Da pacem Domine

Yesterday i went for the Way of the Cross. The roads are unusually quiet - hardly anyone outside. Not a single group is seen. The muslim school refused to open the doors for us: it's where we start the 1st Station, so we decided to start the devotion at its front door. There were about 50 friars, 20 sisters and very few (less then 20) lay people - all local arab christians and maybe 5 foreigners.

The Way of the Cross continued up to the Holy Sepulchre Basilica for the last 6 Stations. The Basilica was deadly quiet. No groups. Silence. It was eerie. I thought of staying back to join the procession (daily procession of the altars inside the Basilica) and then maybe celebrate a Mass, but considering that it's Friday and the sky darkens by 5pm, I thought it safer to go home immediately. Most shops are closed throughout the streets.

I guess the Way of the Cross became more poignant for all of us who participated. It was the painful last leg of Jesus' journey up to Calvary to die and be buried. And I'm sure not a single one of us did not think of the suffering in Gaza and the surrounding Jewish areas affected by this war - the many families who are displaced, the injured and dead. It was a very sombre walk to the Tomb of Christ. But also the promise of the resurrection.

As the last Station was prayed in front of the Empty Tomb, our Vicar Custos asked for prayers for peace and we all sang the prayer "Da pacem Domine" (Give us peace, O Lord) It's a beautiful sad hymn. Below is from the website of Jeffrey Tucker who explains the hymn:

To me the early Christian attitude toward war is summed up in a first-millennium chant "Da pacem Domine" that directly addressed the question of war and peace. Like most of the Gregorian repertoire, it wasn't necessarily written at any particular time. It was carried forward through time, long before there was printing or even musical notation, purely as a matter of repetition and tradition. That is to say, these songs developed organically, much like folk songs, except that they were used in the liturgical life of the Church.

But we can say with confidence that it was probably sung in the early middle ages, and it was popular enough to be carried forward even unto the modern age. It has a particular poignancy in our time. It addresses the powerlessness and helplessness we all feel during war, particularly wars that we have not caused and do not want to fight but are nonetheless costly to us in terms of money and cultural wreckage. Sometimes we lose family members.

The subtext of the chant implies an awareness that Hell itself is unleashed in times of war, and there is only one way to fight Hell and that is through divine intervention. We must turn to God in our quest for peace, since no one else is powerful enough to stop war. Nor were the Christians under the illusion that governments can bring peace or that governments are truly fighting for us. Not governments, not soldiers, not politicians – only God serves the interest of peace and is powerful enough to put an end to the madness.

Here are the words:

Da pacem, Domine, in diebus nostris
Quia non est alius
Qui pugnet pro nobis
Nisi tu Deus noster.

The translation:
Give peace, O Lord, in our time
Because there is no one else.
Who will fight for us
If not You, our God?

The beautiful thing here is that the melody itself, written in the minor mode II, illustrates the sad sense that events are out of control. So we pray and beg for assistance.

Try saying this prayer.