Commentary on the Psalms 20 part 1/3

For the end, for the sons of Korah.

Hear this, all you nations.

Give ear, all you who dwell in the world.

Another translator renders it, 'the sinking down.'

And the Hebrew has 'Old,' that is, 'both the earthborn and the sons of men.'

Another renders it, 'both humankind, and moreover the sons of every man.'

Together, both rich and poor.

The Prophet is now about to discourse to us of certain great and ineffable things.

For he would not have summoned those in every part of the earth to give hearing, nor would he have seated the whole world as his audience, unless he were about to speak to us of something great, and glorious, and worthy of the magnitude of the assembly.

For he no longer speaks as one prophesying to the Jews who inhabit Palestine, but, like an apostle and evangelist, he directs his word to the whole nature of mankind.

For the Law instructed the nation in one corner of the world;

but the word of the proclamation resounded in every part of the earth, and extended itself, traversing as much territory as the sun goes over.

For those things were a kind of tutelage and introduction, and a ministry of condemnation and death;

but these things are grace and peace.

Since, then, he has called together the whole race to give hearing, come now, let us also

draw near, and see what the psalmist wishes to say to us—he who is the common patron of the race of mankind.

Even if some be barbarians, even if they be wise, even if they be simple folk—do you bid them come? 'Yes,' he says.

For this very reason he said at the outset, 'All you nations;'

and again he intensified it, saying:

'Both the earthborn and the sons of men,' calling all humankind.

how fitting he is for all, and common to all.

For this is why he does not simply call them all, but bids them attend to what is said with great diligence and exactness.

For he did not say merely, 'Hear this, all you nations,' but also, 'Give ear.'

And to give ear is nothing other than to hear with diligence and with a mind intently strained.

For 'to give ear' is properly said when one converses ear to ear, straining himself, and bidding the other attend to what is said.

Give ear, all you who dwell in the world.

And if there are any who are not reckoned among the nations, but are of mixed race, or nomads scattered abroad, these too I call to the hearing.

And behold the sagacity of the public orator.

First he roused their understanding, and made them alert for the hearing, by calling all of them at once.

Then, having called them, he abates their conceit, lest they be lifted up to arrogance by their multitude.

For there is special need of such hearers, when one is about to utter words of wisdom—hearers who are contrite and subdued, delivered from arrogance and vain swelling.

How, then, did he abate their understanding? By reminding them of their nature.

For having said 'nations,' he added:

'Both the earthborn and the sons of men.'

He named the substance from which the beginning of our origin comes; he reminded them of the mother common to us all.

And why did he say, 'The sons of men'? Because, having said 'earthborn,' lest anyone should suppose—after the manner of the pagan mythologists—that men sprang from the earth at the beginning, as certain ones fabled, bringing in a race of 'sown men,' for this reason he added:

For men are your fathers, but the beginning of origin, both for you and for them, is the earth.

Why then does earth and ashes exalt itself in pride? Consider your mother, and abate your conceit;

consider that you are earth, and to earth you shall return, and cast out all arrogance.

For it is such a hearer that I require.

For this reason I gird you round, that I may make you fit for the reception of the things that are to be spoken.

The rich and the poor are gathered together in the same place.

Do you see the nobility of the Church?

For how is it not nobility, when she does not separate her hearer by rank, but pours forth the whole of her teaching equally, and sets one common table before both the rich man and the poor? For after he had spoken of that which unites all men — that they are earthborn, and sons of men — and had shown the common nature we share;

then, bringing forward also that difference and inequality which seems to arise from the things of this life, he casts this too away by his word, calling all in common; for our nature is common: I call all in common.

For our city in common is the whole inhabited world.

But you have devised some difference based on wealth and poverty, and have introduced inequality.

Yet this too I cast away again, neither welcoming the rich while dishonoring the poor, nor calling the poor while excluding the rich, but calling both these and those — and not simply these and those, some first and some later, or some later and some first;

Let the assembly be common, the word common, and the hearing common.

Even if you are rich, you were made from the same clay; you had the same entrance into the world as the poor man, the same coming into being.

You too are a son of man, and so is he.

When therefore the things that are decisive and sovereign are equal and of like honor among you, why do you puff yourself up over shadows and dreams, dividing what is common on the basis of things that are nothing? The things of our nature are common;

common are the things of birth, and the things of our kinship.

Why then do you bring in the outward covering as an occasion for division? I will not endure it.

For this reason I call you together with the poor man, saying:

The rich and the poor are gathered together in the same place.

For in other matters it is not possible to see the rich man and the poor man in the same place;

not in law courts, not in royal palaces, not in marketplaces, not at tables;

but the one is in honor, the other in contempt;

the one in freedom of speech, the other in shame;

for the wisdom of the poor man is despised, and his words are not heeded.

The rich man spoke, and they justified him;

the poor man spoke, and no place was given him.

For neither in the Church do I tolerate greed and unreason, but I set forth teaching common to all.

Behold the discernment of the teacher, how even before he began his public discourse, from the mere calling itself he brought forth a most weighty rule of teaching.

For having called all together, he neither allowed the one to be puffed up, nor the other to be demeaned, but showed that wealth is no good thing, just as poverty is no evil, but that these belong to the superfluous things that are attached from without.

So that it makes no difference to me whether you are this or that;

for I neither see you, being rich, as having more, nor, being poor, as having less.

And why then, being a man and sharing in the same nature, do you deem yourself worthy of such a thing — to think that you are fit to become the teacher of the inhabited world, and to summon together those from the ends of the earth? What have you to say that is worthy of so great a theater? 'Indeed I have,' he says.

For after he had called the inhabited world, in order to make his word credible, hear what he says:

My mouth shall speak wisdom, and the meditation of my heart shall be understanding.

Another version: And my heart shall murmur understanding.

And the Hebrew rendered this as Ouagith.

Do you see how at once he lifted up his discourse? I will not discourse, he says, about riches, nor about dignities, nor about power, nor about bodily strength, nor about any other of the perishable things;

I am about to speak wisdom with exactness, not merely such as has come to me on the spur of the moment.

I will incline my ear to a parable.

Another version: I will incline my ear with a parable.

And the Hebrew says Lamashal.

I will open my riddle upon the harp.

And the Hebrew rendered this as Idathei.

And what sequence has this with what has been said? For in place of a teacher I now see a hearer.

For you summoned us as men who were going to hear something profitable;

but after we had all come and gathered together, and after you had promised to speak something wise, before you have yet uttered a single word, you abandon the position of a teacher and cross over into the place of a hearer.

For 'I will incline mine ear to a parable,' he says.

For what reason does he do this? With great understanding, and in keeping with what has been said.

For since he said, 'I will speak wisdom,' lest anyone should suppose that what was spoken was of human origin, and 'the meditation of my heart,' lest anyone should suspect it to be his own invention, he shows by these words that the things spoken are divine, and that he utters nothing of his own, but says the very things which he has heard.

For 'I have inclined mine ear to God,' he says, 'I have heard from Him, and the things brought down from above into my mind, these I speak.'

Wherefore Isaiah also said:

'The Lord gives me a tongue of instruction, that I may know when it is fitting to speak a word;'

'He has added to me an ear to hear.'

'Faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the word of God.'

Do you see how he too first becomes a hearer, and then a teacher? For this reason another translator also said, 'And my heart shall softly sing.'

What does 'shall softly sing' mean? It shall sing, it shall utter some spiritual psalm.

And if he speaks of 'meditation,' be not disturbed;

for the things which he received from the Spirit, these he continually meditated upon, and stirred up within himself, and then, having stirred them up, brought them forth to others.

And what does 'into a parable' mean? The word has many significations.

For a parable is a saying, and an example, and a reproach, as when he says:

'Thou hast made us a byword among the nations, a shaking of the head among the peoples.'

A parable is also an enigmatic saying, which many

call a riddle: something that hints at a meaning, yet is not immediately evident from the words themselves, but has a sense hidden within, such as the sayings of Samson, which he spoke:

'Out of the eater came forth food, and out of the strong came forth sweetness;'

and Solomon: 'He shall understand a parable and a dark saying.'

A parable is also called a likeness:

'He put forth another parable unto them, saying:'

'The kingdom of heaven is like unto a man that sowed good seed.'

A parable is also called a figurative discourse:

'Son of man, speak this parable unto them:'

'The great eagle, the one with great wings.'

A parable is also called a type and an image, as Paul too shows when he says:

'By faith Abraham, when he was tried, offered up Isaac; and he that had received the promises offered up his only begotten son;'

'whence also he received him back in a parable;'

that is, in a type and in an image.

What then does the 'parable' mean for him here? It seems to me that he means the narrative.

And if he makes his discourse enigmatic and full of much difficulty, be not disturbed even at this;

for he does this in order to rouse the hearer; and besides, since ease leads many into slothfulness, for this reason he speaks in a parable.

Since Christ too spoke many things in parables, but privately expounded these to His disciples.

For the parable separates the worthy from the unworthy;

for the worthy man seeks out to discover the things spoken, whereas the unworthy one runs past them;

for the Jews, not even being roused by the difficulty, were not drawn on to inquiry;

so utterly did they give no heed to the things that were spoken.

But this is sufficient to rouse one to inquiry, when there is something that is veiled in obscurity.

This is why Christ too did this at that time, and spoke in parables, provoking and rousing them toward a longing to listen, sluggish and drowsy as they were;

but not even so did they give heed;

but the disciples pressed close, and though they did not understand, they persevered for this very reason especially, because they did not understand.

Wherefore also privately He would explain to them the parables.

For this reason this man too says:

"I will incline mine ear to a parable; I will open my dark saying upon the harp."

Now a 'dark saying' (proposition) is a word that is veiled and enigmatic, wherefore also in another place he says:

"I will utter dark sayings from the foundation of the world."

For this reason he even ventured to call it wisdom, taking courage from the divine revelation;

for this reason too he says 'upon the harp,' displaying the spiritual character of the teaching, and that its possession came upon him from above, and he makes his counsel in the manner of a song, sweetening the discourse.

Do you see what kind of prelude he has fashioned? He summoned the whole world, he cast out the inequality that exists in life, he reminded them of their common nature, he curbed their pride, he promised to say something great and noble, he said that he would utter nothing of his own but only what he had heard from that One, he hinted that there was much obscurity in the word, thereby making them more attentive;

he promised to teach us a spiritual wisdom, which he continually practised.

Let us therefore give heed, and not run past it.

For if the word is wise, and a parable, and a dark saying, there is need of an awakened mind.

What then is the counsel, and what the dark saying, and what the parable, and what the wisdom which he heard from above? "Why should I fear," he says, "in the evil day?" Another version has, "In the days of the evil one."

"The iniquity of my heel shall compass me about."

But the Hebrew has, "Aon akoubbaei isoubbounei."

Do you see how it is a dark saying, and an enigma, and the word is obscure, and there is much lack of clarity? But, if you please, let us first learn what he means by an 'evil day.'

What kind of day, then, is Scripture accustomed to call an evil day? The day of calamities, the day of punishments, the day of adversities.

"Blessed is he that considereth the poor and needy;"

"in the evil day the Lord shall deliver him."

And such is the day that awaits sinners, that fearful one, and

Do you see the first definition of the highest philosophy, and how the word distinguishes for you which things are worthy of fear and which of contempt? For unless one makes this excellent division, he is left in perplexity, as one carried about in deep darkness and in the confusion of affairs.

Unless we distinguish which things we ought to fear and which to spurn, there will be great wandering in life, and great danger.

For it is the utmost folly to fear things not worthy of fear, and to laugh at things which it is right to fear.

In this too men differ from children, that the latter, being of an imperfect understanding, dread masks and men clad in sackcloth;

but to insult father or mother they count as nothing;

and they leap upon fire and burning lamps, while they are terrified by certain bogeys that hold nothing dreadful;

but men are not turned aside by any of these things.

Since then many are more senseless than children, he makes this distinction, and tells what one ought to fear—not the things that seem fearful to the multitude, I mean poverty, and disrepute, and disease; for these are not only fearful to the many, but also burdensome and oppressive;

but he sets down none of these, only sin;

"The iniquity of my heel shall compass me about."

This then is the enigmatic saying, this the new and paradoxical manner.

For it seems exceedingly new and paradoxical to the multitude to say that one ought not to fear any of the griefs of this life.

"Why then should I fear," he says, "in the evil day?" One thing only—lest the iniquity of my way and of my life should compass me about.

Scripture knows also how to call deceit a 'heel.'

"For he that ate bread with me," he says, "lifted up his heel against me."

And again Esau said concerning Jacob:

"This is the second time he hath supplanted me."

For such is sin: deceitful, and able to sweep one away.

This, he says, is what I dread: the sin that deceives me, that encircles me on every side.

Wherefore Paul too calls it the sin 'which so easily besets us,' signifying that which continually surrounds us, that which does so with ease, with readiness.

Now in these earthly courts of justice men dread many things: abundance of wealth, and power, and insolent oppression, and deceit;

but there nothing of the kind exists; rather, sin alone is fearful, everywhere encircling those it catches, and more grievous than armies encamped against them.

We must therefore do everything so as not to be encircled by it; but when we see it desiring to hem us in, we must slip out of its grasp, just as brave soldiers do;

and if we are also caught, we must quickly cut ourselves loose from it, just as David also did, severing its strength through repentance.

For he was indeed encircled by it, but he quickly escaped from it.

He who dreads this will never fear anything else at all, but will laugh at the good things of the present life, and will despise its sorrows, that fear alone shaking his mind.

For nothing, nothing else is fearful to him who has acquired this fear, not even the very head and summit of things fearful, death itself, but only this alone.

How so? Because it hands one over to hell, because it consigns one to undying punishments.

This again, when set right, brings in the whole of virtue.

For consider how great a thing it is: not to be puffed up by prosperity, not to be cast down by sorrows, to make no account of things present, to look toward things to come, to await that Day, to live together with such a fear.

Such a one will be an angel, dreading this alone, and nothing else at all;

for he will fear none of the other things, if he dreads this alone, as one ought to dread it;

just as, on the other hand, he who does not dread this will be subject to many fearful things.

'They that trust in their own strength, and boast themselves in the multitude of their riches.'

'A brother does not ransom; shall a man ransom? He shall not give to God a propitiation for himself, nor the price of the

redemption of his own soul.'

'And what is this sequence of thought?' one might ask.

Great indeed it is, and closely connected, and very much hanging upon what has gone before.

For since his discourse is concerned with the tribunal, and with that fearful reckoning, and with the incorruptible verdict;

and since many in the courts here have corrupted justice, and have bought judges, and have escaped the sentence;

proclaiming the incorruptibility of that verdict, and increasing the fear which he had earlier spoken of, he added these words, showing that he had rightly said that one should fear one fear—the one arising from sin—and no other.

For it is not possible there to corrupt justice with money, nor by laying down bribes to snatch oneself out of hell;

neither does patronage and advocacy save, nor anything else of the kind.

For even if you be rich, even if a man of power, even if known to someone great, all these things are in vain and to no purpose;

for it is from his works that each one there is both punished and crowned.

Since indeed the man in the account of Lazarus was exceedingly rich, yet his wealth profited him nothing;

and the virgins had the virgins for their acquaintances, yet the familiarity availed them nothing;

for there is one thing only that is sought there.

'You therefore,' he says, 'who trust in wealth, and are clothed about with power, are puffed up in vain and to no purpose;

for neither will the abundance of your riches pass over with you into that tribunal, nor the strength of your power;

but neither will kinship and relationship, nor anything else of the kind, deliver you.'

It is not possible there, by laying down money, nor by propitiation, nor by a price for the soul, ever to be saved.

What then of the fact that the Scripture says, 'Make to yourselves friends of the mammon of unrighteousness, that they may receive you into the everlasting habitations'? What then is the meaning of this saying? It is in no way contrary, nor at variance with what has been said before, but rather very much in agreement with it.

For one must make friends here, in the present life, by laying down money, by spending one's possessions upon those in need.

So it here hints at nothing else than lavish almsgiving.

For if you depart thither having wrought none of these things, no one will stand up for you.

For it is not their friendship that stands up for us, but the becoming friends by means of the mammon;

for this reason he added, 'Friends of the mammon,' that you might learn that it is your very works that will spare you—the almsgiving, the loving-kindness, the generosity toward those in need.

For that neither kinship nor close relationship is of any profit apart from works, hear what the prophet says:

Though Noah, and Job, and Daniel should stand, they shall not deliver their own sons and daughters.

And why do I speak of the age to come, when even in the present life friendship has profited nothing? How much did Samuel bewail and lament, yet he did not snatch away Saul? How much did Jeremiah pray, yet he profited the Jews nothing, but was even rebuked while praying? And why do you marvel if Jeremiah profits nothing, when he says that not even Moses, had he been present at that time, could have saved the Jews of that day, since wickedness had prevailed and they had brought in nothing of their own? 5.

How much did Paul lament over the Jews, saying, 'Brethren, my heart's good pleasure and my supplication to God on their behalf is for their salvation'? What then did his supplication avail? Nothing.

And why do I speak of supplication, when he even prayed to be accursed on their behalf? What then? Are the prayers of the saints superfluous? By no means, but they have very great power—when you yourself also assist them.

Thus Peter raised up Tabitha, not by prayer only, but also by that woman's own almsgiving;

thus the saints, by their prayers, have championed others.

And this indeed holds here, where the arenas and the wrestling-bouts are;

but there none of these things avail; rather, salvation comes from works alone.

And most vigorously does he here hold up to ridicule those who are rich and those who are puffed up.

For he did not say, 'Those who have money,' nor, 'Those who have acquired power,' but, 'Those who trust in the abundance of their riches,' and

'those who boast in their power'—mocking them and reproaching them, because they have trusted in shadows and take great pride in smoke.

And well did he say, 'He shall not give a price for the redemption of his soul';

for not even the whole world is the price of a soul.

'What is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, but forfeit his own soul?' And that you may learn that not even the whole world is the price of a soul, hear also what Paul says concerning other saints:

'They wandered about in sheepskins, in goatskins, being destitute, afflicted, ill-treated—of whom the world was not worthy.'

For indeed the world exists for the sake of the soul.

As, then, a father would not choose his house in exchange for his child, so neither does God choose the world in exchange for the soul;

but there is need of works, and of upright deeds.

Would you learn how great is the price of our souls? When the Only-begotten was about to ransom it, He gave neither a world, nor a man, nor earth, nor sea, but His own precious blood.

'You were bought with a price; do not become servants of men.'

Do you see the greatness of the price? When, therefore, you have lost that which was bought at so great a cost, how will you afterward be able to purchase it back? For Christ, having risen from the dead, dies no more.

Do you see the costliness of the price? Do you see the dignity of the soul? Do not, then, despise it, nor make it a captive.

'And he laboured unto the age, and shall live unto the end.'

Another translator says, 'And he ceased unto the age.'

Another, 'Having found rest in this age, he shall continue living unto the age.'

For since he had spoken concerning the rich, and since he had spoken concerning the mighty, and had shown that there is no gain from that quarter, he now speaks concerning those who have lived in virtue, concerning those who have lived in toil and hardship, anointing the athletes of true wisdom.

'Do not urge this to me,' he says, 'that he had toil and hardship;'

but consider the fruit—that man becomes immortal, that an immortal life succeeds, a life that has no end.

How much better, then, to labour a little here and reap everlasting rest, than to indulge oneself for a little while and be forever in torments? Then, showing that not there only are the prizes and the crowns, but that even from this present life there are the foretokens of the rewards, he adds, saying:

'He shall not see corruption, when he sees the wise dying.'

'Here I give you the pledges of the crowns—or rather the earnest itself—and the rewards.'

How, and in what manner? Because he who pursues true wisdom, and is set upright by the hopes of things to come, will not even regard death as death;

but though he sees the dead man lying before his eyes, such a one will not suffer what the multitude suffer, reckoning up the crowns, the prizes, the ineffable good things which eye has not seen and ear has not heard, that life yonder, the dance with the angels.

As, then, the husbandman, seeing the grain dissolving, does not fall into despondency nor become downcast, but then most of all rejoices and is glad, knowing that that dissolution becomes the beginning of a better birth and the occasion of a more abundant yield;

so also the righteous man, luxuriant with upright deeds and each day looking for the kingdom, when he sees death lying before his eyes, is not distressed as the many are, nor is he thrown into confusion and troubled;

for he knows that death, for those who have lived rightly, is a removal to better things, and a journey abroad to what is more excellent, and a running toward the crowns.

But whom does he call wise? Not those who are truly wise, but those who are reckoned to be wise.

It seems to me that he means the wise men of the outside world, ridiculing them on this very ground, that while seeming to be wise, they became fools, having reasoned nothing wisely concerning the resurrection.

When, therefore, he sees those philosophers perishing, mourned over, wept for, sent forth with wailing, then he himself will suffer nothing of the kind, but will be superior to such darts, being set upright by good hopes, and knowing that this corruption is not the destruction of the substance, but of the …

the wasting away of mortality, and the consuming of corruption.

For this death does not destroy the body, but consumes away its corruption;

so that the substance itself remains, and rises again with greater glory—yet this is not so for all.

For the resurrection shall be common to all, but the resurrection unto glory belongs to those who have lived uprightly.

'Together the foolish and the senseless shall perish, and they shall leave their wealth to strangers.'

'And their sepulchres are their houses for ever, their dwelling-places from generation to generation;'

'they have called their lands after their own names.'

Another version says, 'The inward parts of their houses shall be for ever.'

Another, 'Their dwelling-places unto a generation, having named their lands after their own names;'

and the Hebrew rendered this as 'Alehadamoth.'

Do you see how, not from things to come only, but even from what befalls men here, he leads them away from wickedness and covetousness, and guides them by the hand toward virtue, breaking down the madness for money, and calling those who are enthralled by present things senseless, and demonstrating this from the facts themselves? For what, tell me, is more senseless than a man who toils and afflicts himself, and gathers together so much, only that others may revel in his labors? And what is worse than this futile toil, when he himself departs after enduring the sweat and bearing the hardships, but furnishes the enjoyment to others—and not even to any of his own household or acquaintances, but often to enemies and foes? For this reason he did not say, 'to others,' but, 'They shall leave their wealth to strangers.'

But what does this mean, 'Together the foolish and the senseless shall perish'? 'Along with the things spoken of before,' he says.

Here he seems to me to raise the discourse concerning the ungodly, those who are enthralled by present things and give no thought to the things to come; and from this too he calls them senseless.

For if you suppose there is nothing after this, for what reason do you wear yourself out and afflict yourself, gathering countless riches from every quarter, enduring the toils yet having no share in the enjoyment? 'And their sepulchres are their houses for ever.'

This he says according to their own supposition.

'Their dwelling-places from generation to generation;'

'they have called their lands after their own names.'

What could be worse than this folly—to regard one's tomb as a perpetual dwelling, and to be ambitious about such things? Indeed, many have often made their sepulchres more splendid than their houses.

For they either toil and afflict themselves for their enemies, or for the worm and the dust, squandering these things on what serves no purpose.

For such is the mindset of those who hope for nothing concerning the things to come.