The Beatles had a big hit with their upbeat song, “Help!”

Help me if you can, I’m feeling down
And I do appreciate you being round
Help me get my feet back on the ground
Won’t you please, please help me?

Commercial music was full of songs about needing and asking for help: “Get Together” (The Youngbloods, 1967), “Teach Your Children” (Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, 1970), “He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother” (The Hollies, 1969), “You’ve got a Friend” (James Taylor, 1969), “Lean on Me” (Bill Withers 1972), just to name a few that have sunk into general awareness.

They’re the complete opposite of Paul Simon’s bleak anthem, “I Am a Rock” (1975). Fed on myths of stoic Pilgrims and self-reliance, our culture came to regard needing help—and asking for it—as a sign of vaguely contemptible weakness, instead of as an integral part of human existence.

By contrast, the psalms are full of pleas to God for help in adversity, in illness, in danger, in any kind of need. As Jesus says in Luke’s parable of the unjust judge, “Will not God then secure the rights of his chosen ones who call out to him day and night?”

Look at that crucial word “rights.” By our baptism, and because we were all created by God, in God’s own image, do we have a right to claim God’s love, God’s help, God’s mercy? Then let us sing “The Cry of the Poor” (Foley), “Abide With Me (EVENTIDE), “Stand By Me” (Kendzia), “Christ Be Our Light” (Farrell), “Shelter Me, O God” (Hurd), “Salvator Mundi, Salva Nos,” and “O Lord, Hear My Prayer” (Taizé)—we have a wealth of songs and hymns that help us ask for help.

And as our prayers rise to God like incense, we give thanks—for how God has helped us in the past and will help us now and in the future.