Homilies on the Psalms 1.1–1.4

“All Scripture is inspired by God and useful”; … for this reason, so that, as in a common hospital for souls, all of us human beings may each choose the remedy for our own ailment. For “healing …” The prophets teach some things, the historians others, the law others, and the form of proverbial counsel others still. But the book of Psalms has taken in what is useful from them all. It foretells what is to come, recalls histories, gives laws for life, suggests what is to be done, and, in a word, it is a common storehouse of good teachings, carefully finding for each person what suits him. For it heals the old wounds of souls, brings quick recovery to the newly wounded, tends what has fallen sick, and keeps what is sound unharmed; and, as far as possible, it removes altogether the passions that in various ways hold sway over souls in human life, and this with a certain harmonious delight and a pleasure that instills sober thought. For when the Holy Spirit saw that the human race was hard to lead toward virtue, and that because of our leaning toward pleasure we neglect the upright life, what does he do? He mixed the delight of melody with the doctrines, so that through the gentleness and smoothness of what we hear we might receive, without noticing it, the benefit of the words, like wise physicians who, when they give … medicines, often smear the cup with honey. That is why these harmonious melodies of the psalms have been devised for us, so that those who are children in age, or young in character altogether, may seem to be singing but in truth be training their souls. For hardly anyone among the many, the careless, ever went away holding in memory a command of an apostle or a prophet; but the sayings of the psalms they sing at home and carry about in the marketplace. And somewhere a man who has become quite savage with anger, once he begins to be soothed by the psalm, goes away at once with the wildness of his soul [lulled to rest] by the melody

A psalm is calm for souls, the arbiter of peace, quieting the turmoil and surging of thoughts. It softens the angry part of the soul and chastens the intemperate part. A psalm brings friendship together, unites those who are separated, reconciles those at enmity. For who can still regard as an enemy someone with whom he has sent up one voice to God? So psalmody provides the greatest of goods, love, devising the singing together as a kind of bond for unity and fitting the people into the harmony of one choir. A psalm is a refuge from demons and draws in the help of angels; it is a weapon in fears, a safety …, an adornment for those in their prime, a comfort for the elderly, the most fitting ornament for women. It peoples the deserts and brings the marketplaces to sobriety. For beginners it is the first lesson, for those making progress growth, for those being made perfect a support; it is the voice of the Church. It brightens the feasts; it produces the grief that is according to God. For a psalm calls forth a tear even from a heart of stone. A psalm is the work of angels, the heavenly way of life, the spiritual incense. O the wise contrivance of the teacher, who arranged that we should at once sing and learn what is profitable! Hence the teachings are somehow impressed more deeply on our souls. For a lesson learned under constraint does not usually last, but what enters with delight and charm settles more lastingly in our souls. What could you not learn from here? Not the greatness of courage? the exactness of justice? the dignity of self-control? the perfection of prudence? the way of repentance? the measures of patience? whatever good thing you might name? Here is complete theology, the foretelling of Christ's coming in the flesh, the threat of judgment, the hope of resurrection, the fear of punishment, promises of glory, revelations of mysteries: all is stored up in the book of Psalms as in a great common treasury. Though there are many musical instruments, the prophet fitted this book to the one called the psaltery, showing, it seems to me, the grace that sounded in him from above from the Spirit, because this alone of musical instruments has the source of its sounds above. For with the cithara and the lyre the bronze resounds from below under the plectrum; but the psaltery has the sources of its harmonious rhythms above, so that we too may practice seeking the things above and not be carried down by the pleasure of the melody to the passions of the flesh. And this too, I think, the prophetic word teaches us deeply and wisely through the construction of the instrument: that those whose souls are harmonious and well tuned have an easy road to the things above. But let us now look at the beginning of the Psalms. [3] “Blessed is the man who has not walked in the [counsel] of the ungodly.” Builders raising great structures to a height lay foundations in proportion to the height; … fix the keel [in proportion to the size of] cargo [ships]. And in the generation of living beings the heart, laid down first by nature, receives from nature a foundation in proportion to the animal that is to be formed, because the body is woven around its own beginnings in due measure, and so the differences in size among animals come about. What, then, a foundation is in a house, and

a keel in a ship, and a heart in the body of a living being, that is the power, it seems to me, which this short preface has for the whole composition of the Psalms. For since, as the discourse goes on, he is going to urge many toilsome things, full of countless sweats and labors, he showed the athletes of godliness the blessed end beforehand, so that in the hope of the goods laid up for us we might bear the pains of life without grief. So too, for travelers going along a rough and hard road, an inn they look forward to lightens the toil; the desire for cargo makes merchants dare the sea; and the hope of the harvest steals away the farmers' labors. Therefore the common corrector of life, the great teacher, the Spirit of truth, wisely and skillfully set the rewards before us first, so that, looking beyond the labors at hand, we might press on in mind to the enjoyment of eternal goods. “Blessed is the man who has not walked in the counsel of the ungodly.” What is properly and primarily to be called blessed is the truly good. And this is God. Hence Paul too, when he is about to mention Christ, says, “According to the appearing of the blessed God and our Savior Jesus Christ.” For truly blessed is the beautiful-in-itself, to which all things look, which all things desire: the unchangeable nature, the sovereign dignity, the untroubled life, the painless existence, in which there is no alteration, which no change touches; the gushing spring, the unstinting grace, the inexhaustible treasure. But ignorant and worldly people, not knowing the nature of the good itself, often call blessed things of no worth: wealth, health, a conspicuous life. None of these is good by its own nature, not only because each easily turns into its opposite, but because none can make its possessors good. For who is just because of money? Who is self-controlled because of health? On the contrary, each of these often becomes an instrument of sin for those who use it badly. Blessed, then, is the one who possesses what is of greatest worth, who shares in the goods that cannot be taken away. And how shall we recognize him? “Who has not walked in the counsel of the ungodly.” And before saying what it is not to walk in the counsel of the ungodly, I want to [resolve] the [question raised] in this place … singles out only the man and calls him blessed? Has he then shut women out of blessedness? By no means! For the virtue of man and of woman is one, since creation is of equal honor for both, so that the reward too is the same for both. Hear Genesis: “God made man,” it says; “in the image of God he made him; male and female he made them.” Those whose nature is one have the same activities, and those whose work is equal have the same reward. Why, then, having mentioned the man, did he pass over the woman in silence? Because he thought it enough, since the nature is one, to indicate the whole from the more governing part. “Blessed, then, is the man who has not walked in the counsel of the ungodly.” Consider the exactness of the words, how each expression is full of doctrine. He did not say, “who does not walk in the counsel of the ungodly,” but “who has not walked.” For one who is still in this life is not yet to be called blessed, because the outcome is uncertain; but one who has fulfilled what fell to him and closed his life with an end beyond dispute is now safely called blessed. Why, then, … “Blessed are those who walk in the law of the Lord”? For there the word calls blessed not those who have walked but those who are still walking, because those who do good have acceptance in the very work itself, whereas those who flee evil are not praiseworthy if they turn aside from sin once or twice, but only if they can escape the experience of evil altogether. From the sequence of the passage another difficulty has come to light for us. Why does he call blessed not the one who achieves virtue, but the one who has not committed sin? For in that way a horse and an ox and a stone will be called blessed. For what lifeless thing has stood in the way of sinners? Or what irrational creature has sat in the seat of the pestilent? Wait a little, and you will find the remedy. For he adds, “But his will is in the law of the Lord.” Meditation on the divine law belongs to the rational being alone. But we also say this: the beginning of taking up good things is withdrawal from evil things. For “Turn away from evil,” it says, “and do good.”

Wisely and skillfully, then, leading us toward virtue, he made withdrawal from wickedness the beginning of good things. For if he had set the perfect things before you at once, you would have shrunk from the attempt; but as it is, [he accustoms you] … to what follows. For I would say that the practice of godliness resembles a ladder, that ladder which the blessed Jacob once saw, whose lower parts were near the earth and close to the ground, while its upper parts reached beyond heaven itself. So those who are being introduced to the life of virtue must set their foot on the first rungs and from there always climb the next ones, until by gradual progress they ascend to the height attainable by human nature. As, then, in … so in the life according to God the beginning of progress is separation from evil. In general, idleness is easier than any action whatever: for example, “You shall not murder; you shall not commit adultery; you shall not steal.” Each of these requires only idleness and not moving. But “You shall love your neighbor as yourself,” and “Sell your possessions and give to the poor,” and “If anyone forces you to go one mile, go with him two”: these are actions fit for athletes, needing a soul already vigorous to accomplish them. So admire the wisdom of him who leads us toward perfection through what is easier and easier to grasp. He has set before us three things worth guarding against: not to walk in the counsel of the ungodly, not to stand in the way of sinners, not to sit in the seat of the pestilent. Following the nature of things, he gave these sayings this order. For first we deliberate, then we make the plan stand, then [we settle] in what we have planned. Blessed first of all, therefore, is purity in our mind, since the plan in the heart is the root of the actions done through the body. For adultery is first kindled in the soul of the pleasure-lover, and so brings about the corruption that is done through the body. That is why the Lord says that what defiles a person is from within. And since ungodliness is properly the name for sin against God, God forbid that we should ever admit, out of unbelief, a doubt about God! For this is to walk in the counsel of the ungodly: if you say in your heart, “Is there a God who governs all things? Is there a God in heaven who manages each particular thing? Is there a judgment? Is there a recompense to each according to his work? Why then are the just poor and sinners rich? Why are these sick and those strong? these without honor and those in high repute? Perhaps the world is carried along at random, and irrational chances distribute the lots of life to each without order?” If you think these things, you have walked in the counsel of the ungodly. Blessed, then, is the one who has not entertained doubt about God; who has not lost heart about present things but awaits those that are hoped for; who has held no unbelieving opinion about him who created us. And blessed is he also who has not stood in the way of sinners. Life is called a way because of the haste of each one born toward his end. For as those asleep on ships are carried of their own accord to harbor by the wind, even if they do not perceive it, while the voyage presses them toward its end, so we too, as the time of our life flows by, are hurried on, each toward his own limit, by a kind of continuous and unceasing motion, the unnoticed course of our life. For example, you sleep, and time runs past you; you are awake and busy in your mind, and yet life is spent, even if it escapes our perception. We are all running a race, then, each hastening toward his own end; for this reason we are all on the way. And you might take the idea of the way like this too. You have set out as a traveler into this life: you pass everything, everything falls behind you. You saw a plant on the road, or grass, or water, or whatever sight was worth looking at; you were delighted for a little, then you ran past. Again you met with stones and ravines and cliffs and crags and stakes, or perhaps wild beasts and reptiles and thorns and other troubles; you were annoyed for a little, then you left them behind. Such is life: it keeps neither its pleasures lasting nor its pains enduring. The way is not yours, nor are present things yours. Among travelers, as soon as the first has moved his foot, the one after him has at once set down his step, and after him the next. [5] Consider too whether the things of life are not similar. Today you have farmed the land, and tomorrow another, and after him someone else. Do you see these fields and the costly houses? How many names has each of them changed since it came into being! It used to be called so-and-so's; then it was renamed for another; it passed to so-and-so; now it is called someone else's. Is not our life, then, a way, taking now one and now another, and having all following one another? Blessed, then, is the one who has not stood in the way of sinners. And what does “has not stood” mean? While we human beings are still in our first age, we are neither in wickedness nor in virtue, for that age cannot receive either disposition. But when our reason has come to maturity, then there happens what is written: “But when the commandment came, sin revived, and I died.” For evil thoughts spring up, born in our souls from the passions of the flesh. For in truth, when the commandment has come, that is, the discernment of good things, if it does not master the worse reasoning but allows reason to be enslaved by the passions, then sin revives and the mind dies, having become dead in its trespasses. Blessed, then, is the one who has not lingered on the way of those who sin, but has leapt across by better reasoning to the godly way of life. For there are two ways opposed to one another, the one broad and spacious, the other narrow and hard. And there are two guides, each trying to turn the traveler toward himself. The smooth and downhill way has a deceitful guide, an evil demon, dragging those who follow him by pleasure toward destruction; but the rough and steep way has a good angel, [leading] through the toils of virtue toward the blessed [end] … each of us is, pursuing what is pleasant at the moment, and takes no thought for the future. But when he has become a man, once his notions are fully formed, he seems to see his life split toward virtue and wickedness, and, turning the eye of his soul often toward each, he compares what belongs to each. The life of sinners shows all the delights of the present age; the life of the just shows only the goods of the future. And the way of those being saved, the more fair the things it promises for the future, the more toilsome it makes the present; whereas the pleasant and licentious life offers its enjoyment not as something expected later but as already present. Every soul, then, grows dizzy and [is tossed] in its reasonings: when it thinks of eternal things it chooses virtue, but when it looks toward present things it prefers pleasure. Here it sees the comfort of the flesh, there the enslavement of the flesh; here drunkenness, there fasting; here unrestrained laughter, there abundant tears; here dancing, there prayer; flutes here, groans there; here sexual immorality, there virginity. Since, then, the truly good is grasped by reasoning through faith (for it is far removed, and “eye has not seen, nor ear heard”), while the pleasure of sin is close at hand and offers enjoyment flowing through every sense, blessed is the one who has not been turned toward destruction by the baits of pleasure, but waits with patience for the hope of salvation, and in choosing between the two ways has not set foot on the way that leads to the worse. [6] “And has not sat in the seat of the pestilent.” [Does he mean] these seats on which we rest our bodies? And what transfer of sin is there from wood, that I should flee as harmful a seat a sinner sat on before me? Or must we think that “seat” means a settled and lasting persistence in the judgment of wickedness? This we must guard against, because to dwell assiduously on sins produces in souls a habit hard to move. For a passion of the soul grown old, and the practice of evil confirmed by time, is hard to heal, or even wholly incurable, since habit generally turns into nature. It is a thing to pray for, then, not to touch evil at all. The second-best course is to flee at once after the experience, as from the bite of a venomous creature, according to what is written by Solomon about the bad woman: “Do not fix your eye on her, but spring away; do not linger.” But I know some who in youth slipped into the passions of the flesh and, through the habit of evil, remained in their sins right up to gray hair. For as pigs rolling in mud always plaster themselves with more mire, so these people wipe on more of the shame of pleasure every day. Blessed, then, is not to think the evil thought at all; but if, through the enemy's surprise attack, you received thoughts of ungodliness in your soul, do not stand in the sin. And if this too has happened to you, do not settle down in evil. So do not sit in the seat of the pestilent. If you have understood what seat the word means, that it speaks of a lasting attachment to evil, examine now whom it named “the pestilent.” Those skilled in such matters say that pestilence, once it touches one man or beast, spreads by transmission to all who come near, for the nature of the disease is such that all fill one another with the sickness. Such too are the workers of lawlessness. For one [passes] the disease to another … Do you not see the fornicators who sit in the marketplace, mocking the chaste, telling of their own shameful deeds, the practices of darkness, and listing the passions of their dishonor as if they were feats of valor or some other brave deeds? These are the pestilent, who strive to spread their own evil to all and are ambitious that many become like themselves, so that in the fellowship of evils they may escape reproach. For neither can fire, once it has caught easily burned material, fail to spread through all of it, especially if it meets a wind that carries the flame; nor can sin, once it has touched one person, fail to pass to all who come near, while the spirits of wickedness kindle it. For the spirit of sexual immorality does not allow the dishonor to stop with one person, but at once companions of the same age are drawn in: revels, drinking bouts, shameful stories; a courtesan … and setting all ablaze together toward the same sin. Is this pestilence small, or the spread of the evil slight? And what of the man who envies the greedy man, or one clothed in some conspicuous political power through some other wickedness, or one holding rule over nations, or a commander of armies, who is then wallowing in the most shameful passions: has he not received the pestilence into his very soul, making his own the evil of the one he envies? For the … of conspicuous men in life: soldiers for the most part become like their commanders, while those in … In short, when the evil of one is thought by the many worthy of imitation, it may fitly and properly be said that a pestilence of souls is spreading through life. For what is conspicuous in wickedness draws many of those who slip easily into the same zeal. Since, then, one is filled with corruption by another, let such people be said to infect souls with pestilence. So do not sit in the seat of the pestilent; that is, do not share in the council of corrupting and ruinous men, or do not remain in what has been wickedly planned. But the discourse is still in its opening, and I see its length exceeding due measure, so that it is neither easy for you to keep more in mind nor for me to carry out the ministry of the word, because the weakness of voice that has long been with me is failing us. And if what has been said has been said incompletely, flight from evil having been shown but perfection through good works having been left aside, still, entrusting what we have said to kindly ears, we promise, God granting, to supply what is lacking as well, unless we fall into complete silence from now on. May the Lord grant to us the reward of what has been said, and to you the fruit of what you have heard, by the grace of his Christ, for to him belong the glory and the power to the ages of ages. Amen.