Selected Comments on the Psalms 1127–1143

[Ps 3, continued] and: “We shall all fall asleep.” And sleep, since sleeping (καθεύδειν) is the same as slumbering: “Many of those who sleep in the dust of the earth will rise.” This is to be compared with what is said of the saints who had fallen asleep. Sleep, however, apart from the sense of the departure from life, also signifies the inattention of the soul, attention being called wakefulness. For the divine word, wishing us to guard against inattention, says: “Do not give sleep to your eyes, nor slumber to your eyelids, so that you may be saved like a gazelle from the noose, and like a bird from the snare.” And the Prophet, wishing to present the slackness and laxity of sinners, says: “They slept their sleep and found nothing”; and: “Awake, O sleeper, and arise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you.” Analogous to the sleep of inattention is the drowsiness of the soul, which Solomon forbids, teaching us to give not only no sleep to our eyes but also no slumber. And the Hymn-writer himself, putting the word “slumber” in a context of blame, says: “All who mounted horses slumbered.”

We say, then, that our Savior Jesus Christ “lay down” in the common death which he died for us, and “slept” when his soul was separated from his body. For just as those who sleep, while the body lies still, are active in the soul, following certain images that come upon them, and do something without needing the body at all, in the same way — the image not being alike in every respect to that of which it is an image, but so that the activity without the body may be shown, of the soul that was separated from it and in this sense was asleep — after “I lay down” comes “I slept.” And what wonder is it if, in the Savior’s case, such sleep is not complete inactivity of the soul, but inactivity only as regards using the body as an instrument? For it is active by itself and on its own, as is shown also by what Job says in the same sense: “Why did I not pass from the womb to the grave? Now I would have lain down and been at rest; having slept I would have rested with kings, counselors of the earth, who gloried in swords, and with rulers whose gold was abundant.” For if he did not understand that there is some activity of the soul in which it rested, enjoying certain good things with such people, he would not have said, “Having slept I would have rested with kings, counselors of the earth, who gloried in swords.” These would be holy soldiers of godliness, using the word that is sharper than any two-edged sword against every word opposed to the truth. And the rulers whose gold was abundant would be interpreted as those who excel the many and in this respect are rulers, being called rich in thoughts and in contemplations of the truth. It is no wonder, then, that the Savior also says, “I lay down and slept,” being much more active for the salvation of souls even at the time of his separation from the body, according to what is said in the Catholic Epistle of Peter: “In which he also went and preached to the spirits in prison,”

[Ps 3, continued] “to those who once disobeyed, when the patience of God waited in the days of Noah while the ark was being built, in which a few, that is, eight souls, were brought safely through water.” After this falling asleep the Father, helping him, raised him up.

“I will not fear the myriads of the people who set themselves against me round about,” and so on. A voice befitting a saint who has attained a very great virtue, fearlessness, through trust in God; like this one: “If an army encamps against me, my heart will not fear.” And the Savior, knowing in the Spirit the myriads of the people of the mutilation who demanded that he be crucified, and seeing his own calm (I say this according to the flesh), might say these words. And if someone perceives the multitude of the darts thrown by the enemies, attacking the soul and troubling it and tossing it like waves, he might well utter at the right time, taking refuge in God: “I will not fear the myriads of the people who set themselves against me round about.”

“Arise, Lord, save me, my God, for you struck all who are hostile to me without cause; you broke the teeth of sinners,” and so on. Consulting the Hebrew, we found nothing that could mean “without cause.” For what does the word “without cause” have in common with “jaw”? And the others have put it as the Hebrew has it. It is likely, then, as some of the Hebrews say, either that the ancient copies had it otherwise, or that the Seventy, avoiding the coarseness of the expression, ventured to put “without cause” instead of “jaw.” Let us understand the text, then, according to the Seventy, and let us go through how one must take what is said in a more human manner about God; from which it is easy to see how it is said, “Arise, Lord, save me, my God.” For when, so to speak, he is asleep toward us, when he has handed us over to the opposing powers for the sake of testing, he rouses himself. And perhaps when he handed over the Savior for us all, the Father was asleep toward him; but he arises, saving him and striking his enemies, whether those of the circumcision or the invisible powers hostile to the truth. There is no account at all of an enemy for the saint; for with those who hate peace the saint is peaceable, loving his enemies. Someone might seem to be hostile to another not “without cause,” whether we examine our enemy in a more human way or in a more godly way: in a more human way, when, turning on the one who began to do some harm, he wishes to retaliate; for thus he would be supposed to be hostile not “without cause” to the one who had wronged him; in a more godly way, if someone should become an enemy because of the truth, as the Apostle says, “I have become your enemy by telling you the truth,” and: “Did I not hate those who hate you, Lord?” And

[Ps 3, continued] we must inquire whether there are some who hate God; no one would admit this, not even the completely unjust and godless. Who, then, are those who hate the Lord? Who openly hate Jesus and curse him? What is done to him is certainly referred to the Father. And everyone who sins hates God, either cheapening wisdom, that is, Christ, or hating righteousness and working lawlessness. And since Christ is righteousness, he who hates Christ, righteousness, hates God. Now that it is clear who hates God, unless we examine closely what “Did I not hate those who hate you, Lord?” means, we shall hate all human beings except a few, since those marked out by their works as loving God are very rare. And what could be more absurd than this, to turn away from everyone, and, if one must say so, from oneself too? For each one, examining his own case fairly, will be found to hate God. Perhaps, then, we must think that the things that hate God are not persons but the evils that have befallen rational beings: for example, injustice hates God, and the unjust man hates God insofar as he is unjust, since the injustice in him does this. We must, then, hate such accidents, which are our enemies first of all, “with a perfect hatred,” that is, one that comes from perfection. For just as righteousness and self-control come from perfection, so does such hatred. We have said these things in examining “You struck those who are hostile to me without cause”: all who are hostile to someone are hostile without cause. Such is the saying: “They hated me without a cause.” And the broken teeth of sinners are of the same kind as those of which it is said: “There will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.” The teeth of sinners are irrational thoughts that come upon us contrary to nature; using these as teeth, the adversaries often come near us to eat our flesh, that is, what grows from the flesh: “Now the works of the flesh are evident,” says the divine Apostle.

“Salvation is the Lord’s, and your blessing is upon your people,” and so on. The one who is persuaded that salvation is the Lord’s — for which reason too “our God is a God who saves,” for “the ways out of death are the Lord’s” — also knows what trusting in the sons of men means, in whom there is no salvation. And his blessing is upon his people, being spiritual, “in the heavenly places in Christ.”

[Ps 4] “For the end, in psalms, an ode of David,” and so on. Since many psalms have the title “for the end” according to the Seventy, and according to the others the renderings that correspond to “for the end,” it is worth tracing out, as far as possible, the meaning signified

[Ps 4, continued] by the expression. We must know that, just as every art and science has its end, toward which one who genuinely pursues the art or the science hastens, so the rational nature too must have an end; and this is to be made alive in Christ, according to the Apostle. We think, then, that the psalms entitled “for the end” bear in their title a sense of the end and call those who understand what is said to it. For everyone who contends, the end is victory. Since, then, as we showed before, Christ is called David, the psalms entitled “for the end, of David” announce the end and the victory of Christ, who would be called “the victor” according to Aquila, since he has won victory for everyone who is conquered; for the one conquered by Christ has conquered the evil that befell him and destroys it, being subject to Christ. For Christ conquers no one against his will, but by persuading, since he is the Word of God. To this victory, Theodotion says, are entitled the hymns or psalms that among the Seventy are entitled “for the end”; and Symmachus would say that these psalms or odes are Christ’s “victory songs.” And if they are said to be “for the end” not only of David but also of Asaph or of the sons of Korah, it is not absurd for us to understand what is said here of all the saints too, who have received the image of Christ.

“In psalms,” as the Seventy and Aquila say, I think is announced more clearly by Symmachus’s “with psalteries,” the three teaching us that this ode or melody was spoken to the instruments called psalteries. For we must look for several instruments by which the “for the end,” or the “victory song,” or the “to the victor” is sung. Theodotion’s “for the victory, in hymns” can also show this. This ode, then, or melody, or psalm, having the theme described, announces what we have explained before: in a more common way for the prophet David, in a more mystical way for Christ, who takes on the person of the saints, sometimes regarding their afflictions as his own, and their enlargements in them (since it is the voice of the saints, “Afflicted in every way, but not crushed”), and sometimes turning back the heavy-hearted and those who love vain things. The difference between the words “ode” and “melody” hardly needs inquiry. For “ode” signifies the inflection of the speaker’s voice, and “melody” perhaps also the art of the mystical tune sung in … According to the laws of the higher sense, the well-ordered way of life, examined according to reason, lived to the glory of God, with sound doctrines and with words useful to others, would be the melody.

“When I called, the God of my righteousness heard me,” and so on. The speaker is either the Prophet or Christ, according to

[Ps 4, continued] the economy he undertook for us. The words show that he is heard not after he has called, but while he is calling. For to the saints, who obey the divine commands in everything, the promise has been proclaimed according to the prophet Isaiah: “While you are still speaking, I will say: Here I am.” It is worth seeing also what calling upon means, since those who have not examined the Scripture think it is the act of anyone whatever who inclines to pray; but the Prophet makes it most clear that calling upon belongs to the saints, who will certainly be saved: “For everyone,” he says, “who calls upon the name of the Lord will be saved.” For if “everyone who calls upon the name of the Lord will be saved,” the one who is not saved did not call upon the name of the Lord, even if he often seemed to have done so. For calling upon the name of the Lord is not judged by the voice, but by the disposition of the one who speaks and by firm faith. Thus in the ninety-eighth psalm calling upon the Lord is ascribed not to ordinary people but to Samuel, who was so honored by God as to be numbered with Moses his friend, as Jeremiah says: “Not even if Moses and Samuel should stand before my face, praying for these ungodly people, will I hear them, says the Lord.” It is written, then, about him: “Moses and Aaron among his priests, and Samuel among those who call upon his name. They called upon the Lord, and he heard them; in a pillar of cloud he spoke to them. They kept his testimonies and the ordinances he gave them. Lord our God, you heard them; O God, you were gracious to them.” For since they kept his testimonies and the ordinances he gave them, when they prayed they were reckoned among those who call upon him. And in the hundred and forty-fourth psalm we are taught more exactly who this one who calls upon him is: “The Lord is near to those who call upon him in truth” — as though some do not call upon him in truth. “For not everyone who says to me, Lord, Lord, will enter the kingdom of heaven, but the one who does the will of my Father in heaven.” For one says “Lord” perfectly when the works too speak and say “Lord, Lord.” It is clear here, then, that the one who calls upon the Lord has righteousness, and true righteousness. And if Christ is righteousness, the righteous man shares in righteousness, that is, in Christ. So that “O God of my righteousness” may not be a boast, we can make use of “who became for us wisdom from God, and righteousness, and redemption”; and it will be equivalent to “the God of my Lord.”

“In affliction you enlarged me; have mercy on me, and hear my prayer,” and so on. Divine Scripture seems, in its own way, without prying into a person’s choice, to call “affliction” the trouble that befalls the saint for the sake of training; what befalls the sinner it calls a scourge. “Many,

[Ps 4, continued] it says, “are the afflictions of the righteous”; and: “Many are the scourges of the sinner.” For example, we shall say that what Job suffered, and what Joseph suffered in Egypt, were afflictions; but what David suffered because of Uriah’s wife and because he numbered the people were scourges. We must observe, however, lest it escape us that in Scripture affliction is sometimes assigned to sinners and the scourge to those already righteous. That the trial given to the saints in their contests is called affliction we are moved to say by many sayings, others besides those already quoted. For it is no wonder if the scourge touches sons who have sinned, as Solomon says: “He scourges every son whom he receives.” And again we must take care to call scourges what befell the Egyptians because of Israel, since being scourged belongs to sons. And in the … psalm it is said: “If his sons forsake my law, and do not walk in my judgments; if they profane my statutes and do not keep my commandments, I will visit their iniquities with a rod.” This being said, being afflicted would not be among the things in our power; but being displeased and giving way is among the blameworthy things in our power, which the Scriptures call being crushed. Not giving way, and moreover rejoicing in afflictions, since they are occasions of greater prizes and promises, is the work of saints, as the Apostle says: “Afflicted in every way, but not crushed.” And blaming the Corinthians, he says that being crushed comes upon them, saying: “You are not restricted by us, but you are restricted in your own affections.” Then, exhorting them by the example of the saint’s condition, he says: “You too, be enlarged.” Here too, then, the Prophet gives thanks to God, who helped him and granted breadth to his will in a time of affliction. For God enlarges not by putting an end to the evils, but by giving greatness of soul.

“Sons of men, how long will you be heavy-hearted? Why do you love vanity and seek falsehood?” and so on. One will think that “sons of men” is said by periphrasis, as is the custom among the Greeks too: “sons of the Achaeans.” Others, starting from the Savior, who is often called Son of Man, will wish to trace the reason why human beings too are often called, not simply “men,” but “sons of men.” For in the case of the Savior his being named Son of Man could not be a periphrasis, since it is said: “He gave him authority to execute judgment, because he is the Son of Man.” We must, then, know this in general: that the name “man,” when the saints are called gods, is taken as blame; but when sinners are called cattle and beasts, it is placed as good praise. An example of the former: “I said, You are gods, and sons of the Most High, all of you; but you will die like men, and fall like one of the

[Ps 4, continued] rulers”; and: “For where there is jealousy and strife among you, are you not fleshly, and walking according to man?” An example of the second: “Man and beast you will save, O Lord.” For the first person named in Scripture as a son of man, a definite person, called by God in the present expression, we find to be Daniel, and after him Ezekiel, prophets who lived in the captivity; but no one before the captivity, as far as we know from the undisputed parts of the inspired books in our hands, is called by this name. And what need is there to speak of the Savior, since the Gospels are full of this expression? We think that, because those in the captivity had become sinners, Daniel alone, as having preserved the dignity of human nature, made according to the image and likeness, hears “Son of man,” to their reproach. The same must be said of Ezekiel too. For the one first named “man” is the one made by God according to the image and likeness, and thus he would be man in the proper sense. We must consider also, in the case of the Savior, whether his humanity is “Son of man” because the human element of the image of the invisible God is a man’s father. The saying, “Both the earthborn and the sons of men,” shows a superiority of the sons of men over the earthborn. But as to the letter, since here they are rebuked when they hear “How long will you be heavy-hearted?” and so on, it will seem that objections about the sons of men have not been rightly raised, unless we must take “man” in two senses, as the Apostle took it when he said: “The first man was from the earth, made of dust; the second man is the Lord from heaven. As was the man of dust, so are those of dust; and as is the heavenly man, so are those who are heavenly.” Again, since the sons of men are commanded to know that the Lord “has made wonderful his holy one,” it will be asked how those who are sons of men in the worse sense are commanded to do the work of the holiest. For to know that the Lord has made wonderful his holy one is an achievement of the holiest. But this is easy to solve, since the same person can, while among the worse, be a son of man according to the man of dust, and, having changed, which is not impossible, become a son of man according to the heavenly man. These sons of men in the second sense, being sons of the one from the earth, made of dust, would rightly be called heavy-hearted, loving vanity and seeking falsehood. For the mind of the flesh is in them, and bodily deceit, and the seeking of the enemy of truth, that is, of falsehood. For the heavy-hearted are those who have in their heart the lawlessness that sits on a talent of lead, which, as being heavier, will sink with the Egyptians like lead in the mighty water of the waves of life. Opposed to the heavy-hearted are those who are under the light yoke of Jesus. And perhaps, since those who have been made disciples are sons of the one who made them disciples,

[Ps 4, continued] while those who teach are themselves according to the image and likeness of God, those who have been made disciples but have not become worthy of their teachers would be reproached as heavy-hearted sons of man, not having followed the starting points given them for the heart to become pure. For it is customary for those who are being taught and do not follow what is said to be called heavy-hearted by their teachers, because of the thickness of their heart. For this reason too they seek falsehood, as not seeing the truth. And, more deeply, since the Savior is the truth, it is clear that his enemy would be a false word professing the truth, which John often calls antichrist. And if one takes “sons of men” by periphrasis, in place of “men,” the psalm blames heavy-heartedness as being for the most part among human beings, so that, casting off their hardness of hearing, so to speak, they may achieve quick-wittedness, and, withdrawing the soul’s power of seeking from the things they should not seek, which are all false, may bring it over to what they should, and seek the truth.

“The Lord will hear me when I cry to him,” and so on. A great voice that reaches to God is not the one that is loud among men and strained by a greater striking of the air, but the pure and untroubled process of the ruling part of the soul, of the words sent up to God. For we must know that there is also a voice of the hidden part of a person’s heart, which does not make use of the body; and at times, having gathered yourself into yourself, entered your inner room, shut the door of the senses, and become wholly outside the body, you send it up to the One who alone hears such a voice. That is why, though no audible voice of Moses is recorded, God says to him, as we have learned from Exodus: “Why do you cry to me?” But every voice is small that is a process concerned with earthly, small, and lowly things, and a request to God about them; the Savior forbids offering this to the Father, saying: “Ask for the great things, and the small will be added to you; ask for the heavenly things, and the earthly will be added to you.”

“Be angry, and do not sin,” and so on. The expression “be angry” signifies the imperative predicate; it also signifies what is called the indicative, which some call the declarative, as in “we are angry, you are angry, they are angry.” Again, in another way, the word “wrath,” from which “be angry” is formed, signifies something chosen, which some have defined as a desire to retaliate against those who seem to have done wrong. But it also signifies something unchosen, which some call a pre-passion, which arises at certain provocations and draws one toward the wrath we have just defined. If, then, we take the second sense of “be angry” — I mean the unchosen one that arises as a pre-passion —

[Ps 4, continued] it is not a sin, a falling away from the good; and in this sense let us not understand “be angry” as said in the imperative (for how could we be commanded to do what is not chosen?), but in the indicative, so that the whole saying is this: “Inasmuch as you are angry, and this happens to you without your thoughts consenting to it, do not add anything of your own”; that is, let nothing blameworthy follow on what happens without blame; which he shows in “and do not sin.” Here too, then, the word knows a kind of anger that is not sin, and does not at all come from what is in our power as something passionate and harmful. Aquila bears witness to the interpretation given of “be angry,” wishing to translate the proper sense of the Hebrew; for, thinking that the unchosen thing, which we said some call a pre-passion, is an agitation and shaking of the soul, he says: “Be agitated, and do not sin.” This “be agitated” is not an imperative (for it would be absurd for the prophet to command being agitated), but, as we said of “be angry,” an indicative, as: “If it happens to you to be agitated, do not sin.”

“What you say in your hearts, be pierced with compunction for it on your beds,” and so on. By these words he seems to teach that each one, going to bed, must demand of himself an account of what he has done in the day, and reproach himself for what has been done contrary to right reason, blaming and pricking himself with reason. For when this is done regularly, it will keep us from falling away from our duties. “What you say,” he says, “let this pierce you at the time when you give yourselves to your beds.” From one part of our sins, he means all our sins; one part of sins is that which is through words; and perhaps a word precedes even the rest of sin in action. The Scriptures often use “be pierced with compunction” in a peculiar sense, perhaps found neither among the lovers of fine Greek nor in the usage of those who speak the Greek tongue; and they record this word of those who are stung because of sins, or for any other reasons. So in the third of Kingdoms, narrating about Ahab king of Israel, how, when rebuked by the prophet Elijah for having coveted the field of Naboth the Jezreelite, he repents, Scripture says this: “But Ahab was vain, who sold himself to do evil before the Lord, as Jezebel his wife changed him. And he was very abominable in going after the abominations, according to all that the Amorite did, whom the Lord destroyed before the sons of Israel. And at the word, Ahab was pierced with compunction before the Lord, and went weeping, and tore his garment, and girded sackcloth on his body, and fasted, and put on sackcloth on the day he struck Naboth the Jezreelite, and went. And the word of the Lord came by the hand of his servant