Commentary on the Psalms 3

'O Lord, rebuke me not in Your wrath, neither chasten me in Your anger.'

When you hear of wrath and anger in connection with God, suspect nothing human;

for these are words of condescension.

For the Divine Nature is free from all these things.

But He speaks thus in order to take hold of the minds of the grosser sort.

Since we too, when we converse with barbarians, make use of their tongue;

and if we speak to a little child, we lisp along with it, and though we be wise ten thousand times over, we condescend to its lowliness.

And what wonder is it if we do this with words, seeing that we do it even in deeds — biting our hands and feigning anger, in order to set the child right? So then God also, wishing to lay hold of the grosser sort, has used such words.

For He was not eager to speak according to His own dignity, but according to the profit of those who heard.

Since elsewhere again, showing His freedom from anger, He said:

'Is it Me that they provoke, and not rather themselves?' But how would you have Him discourse to the Jews — that He is not angry, nor hates the wicked? For hatred too is a passion;

nor that He looks upon human affairs? For seeing too is borrowed from bodies;

nor that He hears? For this too is from the flesh.

But from this another wicked doctrine would have been brought in — namely, that all things are without providence;

and shunning to hear such things concerning God, many of those in that day would even have been ignorant that there is a God at all;

and this being unknown, all would have been lost;

but that doctrine being once introduced, the setting-right quickly followed upon it.

For he who has been persuaded that there is a God, even though he does not hold a worthy conception concerning Him, but suspects something grosser, will in time be persuaded that there is nothing of the sort in God;

but he who has been persuaded that God takes no forethought, nor cares for the things that are, nor even that He exists — what will he gain from the doctrine of the divine impassibility? For this very reason, having first discoursed to them in that manner, once He had implanted in them the belief that He exists, He again purges them little by little, leading them up to this doctrine, uttering the loftier things concerning Himself, and setting in motion the teaching about His impassibility.

For another prophet also says:

'He shall neither hunger nor grow weary.'

And so he who said that He is angry, the same again, showing that the Divine Nature is impassible, adds:

'Is it Me that they provoke, and not rather themselves?' And he who said that He is in the temple, the same again says: 'There is no holy man in you,'

'and I will not enter into the city;'

that is to say, I am not contained by place.

But if he did not treat of every case, he left it to the more discerning hearer to gather from what has been said that the man who has been set free from the tyrannical passions—even from those without which one cannot live—has all the more been liberated from the rest.

'Be not as a man that sleeps.' And everywhere he stirs up the theme concerning freedom from passion.

So that here too, when you hear of 'wrath,' do not suppose it to be a passion.

For if men who practice the pursuit of wisdom remain, so far as it is possible for them, free from anger, how much more that imperishable Being—incorruptible, ineffable, and incomprehensible?

Do you not see that physicians too, when they cut or cauterize, do this not out of anger but with a view to correction, not being enraged at their patients but pitying them and delivering them from their diseases? So then, when he says:

'Rebuke me not in Your wrath,' this is what he means:

Do not exact from me the penalty for my sins, nor proceed against me for my transgressions.

'Have mercy upon me, O Lord, for I am weak.'

This is the cry we all need, even if we have succeeded ten thousand times in ten thousand things, even if we have attained the very summit of righteousness.

Wherefore he himself also, proceeding further, says again:

'In Your sight shall no living man be justified.'

And the passage, 'If You should mark iniquities, who shall stand?' And Paul says:

'I know nothing against myself, yet am I not hereby justified.'

'Who shall boast that he has a pure heart? Or who shall speak with boldness that he is

clean from defilement?' All of us therefore stand in need of mercy, but not all of us are worthy to be shown mercy.

For even though it is mercy, nevertheless it seeks out the one who is worthy;

just as He Himself said to Moses:

'I will have mercy on whom I have mercy, and I will show compassion on whom I show compassion.'

So then, the one who has done something worthy of being shown mercy will say:

but the one who has cast himself out from obtaining this pardon will say in vain the words:

For if mercy were to come upon all men, no one would ever be punished.

But this too exercises a certain judgment, and seeks out the worthy and the fitting, so as to enjoy it.

At any rate, many have often become liable for the same sins, yet did not pay the same penalty, having other causes that stood as advocates on their behalf;

and, if you are willing, let us now dwell upon this point of discourse.

All the Jews sinned and worshipped idols;

but they did not all pay the same penalty;

rather, some fell, while others obtained pardon.

For in the matter of sins, it is not only the nature of what has been done that is examined, but also the intent, the occasion, the cause, and what follows after the sin;

whether some persisted while others repented, and whether it was done through circumstance, or through deception, or by deliberate design.

And many are the things inquired into: the difference of the occasion, and the condition of one's manner of life.

Those under the Old Covenant sinned, and those under the New sin also;

yet the two do not pay the same penalty, but these latter a more grievous one.

And making this clear, Paul said:

'A man that has set at nought the law of Moses dies without mercy on the testimony of two or three witnesses.'

'Of how much sorer punishment, do you think, shall he be counted worthy who has trodden under foot the Son of God, and has counted the blood of the covenant a common thing?' And when he says, 'Of how much

do you think, of how much sorer punishment shall he be counted worthy,' he shows that the chastisement is intensified.

Those before the law sinned, and those under the law.

Again, the former pay a milder penalty.

'For as many as have sinned without law shall also perish without law.'

The phrase 'without law' signifies not something more grievous, but something milder.

And as many as have sinned under the Law shall be judged by the Law.

Why so? Because the one class has nature as their accuser,

while the other has, together with nature, the Law as well;

and by how much more they enjoyed the benefit of teaching, by so much the greater a punishment will they undergo.

Again, one may see the very same thing coming to pass in the case of ranks of office, and it is clear from the matter of the sacrifice.

At any rate, for the whole people when it sinned there was offered a sacrifice as great as that which was offered for the priest alone;

the passage thereby showing that, by how much greater the rank, by so much the more severe is also the punishment in the things wherein they sin.

For this very reason a woman who had simply committed fornication was put to death,

but the daughter of a priest was burned with fire.

It is possible also from another quarter to see pardon and an intensifying of punishment taking place;

as, for instance, when someone who has sinned pays the penalty here, while another enjoys ease and luxury.

For the one will undergo a greater punishment there, but the other a lesser one, unless he here discharges the whole of it.

And declaring this too, Christ introduces Abraham saying to the rich man:

You received your good things, and this man his evil things;

and now this man is comforted, but you are in anguish.

But this man laid aside his whole punishment, on account of the evils he had suffered;

while others lay aside not the whole, but only a part;

wherefore they too are punished more gently.

And one might also see a difference of punishment arising from intensity of understanding and from simplicity, when He says:

The servant who knew his master's will, and did it not, shall be beaten with many stripes;

but he who knew it not, and did it not, shall be beaten with few.

And one might find many other things which produce a difference of punishment, and a difference of mercy and loving-kindness.

But consider also in the case of the first-formed man.

Eve sinned, Adam also sinned, and the sin was one and the same.

For both ate of the tree, yet both did not pay the same penalty.

Cain committed murder, and Lamech committed murder;

someone gathered sticks of wood on the Sabbath, and obtained no pardon at all;

David committed murder and adultery, and yet enjoyed loving-kindness.

Let us therefore dwell upon the inquiry;

for it is far better to investigate these things than to be nailed fast to idle talk and to the gatherings in the marketplaces.

For not only to find out such matters, but even to seek them, is great gain, even if we do not find them.

For we shall be constrained to be occupied in these things, and to spend all our time upon them.

For what reason then—for we must run back to the former discourse—when all the Jews had made the calf, were some punished but others not punished? Because these repented, and disregarded nature itself, out of piety slaughtering their own kinsmen;

so that the sin, on the one hand, was equal;

And for what reason, in the case of Adam and Eve also, was the punishment not the same, even though the sin itself was the same? Because it was not an equal thing to be deceived by a woman and to be deceived by a serpent.

Wherefore Paul called that a deception, saying:

Adam was not deceived, but the woman, being deceived, fell into transgression.

And for what reason did the man who gathered the sticks of wood not obtain loving-kindness? Because it was an act of great lawlessness to transgress the commandment straightway from the very outset, and it was needful that much fear should be instilled into the others also.

This same thing came to pass also in the case of Sapphira and Ananias.

We too therefore, whenever we sin, let us consider whether we are worthy of mercy, whether we have done anything so as to be shown mercy, whether we have repented, whether we have become better, whether we have departed from our sin.

For indeed, that the one who has repented should be saved is to be saved out of mercy.

So it is, then, that this man too begs to be saved by this means—by his tears, by his lamentations.

'For I will wash my bed every night,' he says;

'I will drench my couch with my tears.'

That is to say, from his compunction.

'My bones were troubled, and my soul was troubled exceedingly.'

He does not say these things straightaway, but takes refuge in the proneness of our nature to slip, saying:

'Have mercy on me, O Lord, for I am weak.'

He spoke thus to show that this alone is not enough;

for if it were enough, we should all be saved on this ground;

for we are all human beings.

But to me, if one must speak somewhat more precisely about this, he does not seem even to be saying this.

Rather, he hints at the weakness that arises from temptations, putting forward this too as no small plea for obtaining mercy and loving-kindness.

This, at any rate, he hinted at as he went on, saying:

'I have grown old among all my enemies.'

For he knows that affliction borne with thanksgiving furnishes an occasion for much loving-kindness, and renders God gracious.

This, then, is what he seems to me to be hinting at here also, when he says:

'Heal me, O Lord, for my bones were troubled, and my soul was troubled exceedingly.'

He did not say, 'Relax it for me,' nor, 'Give me relief,' but 'Heal.'

For he begs that his former wounds be made to disappear.

By 'bones' here he means all his strength;

and by 'trouble,' the blow, the chastisement, the punishment.

'Heal me, O Lord, for my bones were troubled, and my soul was troubled exceedingly.'

As, then, in the case of physicians there are these three things—or rather four, or even five: the physician, the art, the patient, the disease, the power of the remedies—and a kind of drawing-up of battle-lines and a contest takes place;

for if, together with the physician, the art, and the remedies, the patient's own will is also present, they overcome the disease;

but if the patient gives up ranging himself in battle alongside them, he delivers himself over to the sickness;

or if, together with that sickness, he ranges himself against the physician and the remedies and the art, he carries himself off.

So then it comes to pass in our case also;

or rather not so, but in a far more marvellous way.

For in the case of physicians it often happens that, even with the disease, the art, and the remedies, the patient comes to a standstill and gains nothing—nature having grown weak, the art having been at a loss, and

the power of the remedy having fled away because of some mischance;

but in the case of God this cannot be; rather, if you stand firm together with the Physician, the sore must by all means be healed.

For it is not a human art, that it should be at a loss, but a divine power, which prevails over natures and diseases, over wickedness and every evil.

It was for this very reason, then, that this man too, coming to God as to a physician and pouring out his lament, said:

'Heal me, O Lord, for my bones were troubled.'

But some say that here he is speaking of that trouble which arises from sin.

For just as, when violent winds fall upon the open sea, they throw everything into confusion, and the sand of the deep is carried up on high, and those who sail are placed in danger;

so indeed with us also the soul is troubled, the body is set in motion, everything is filled with tempest, and thereafter our vessel is full of turmoil, and there is deep darkness, and all things pass away, forsaking their proper place, and there is great confusion.

This is wont to happen especially in the lusts of licentiousness;

this too in anger and in calamities.

For all these things throw both soul and bones into confusion; the pupils of the eyes are distorted, and the eyes no longer see in their proper order;

but, just as when a charioteer is thrown into panic the horses run wild without discipline,

so too, when the reasoning faculty is thrown into disorder, everything is confounded, everything is distorted, and it loses its own proper path.

But how this disturbance comes about, it is necessary to say this also.

For it does not happen as in the sea, by the onset of the winds; so also in the soul it does not come about through some unexpected circumstance, but through our own slothfulness.

For we ourselves are the cause both of its coming to be and of its not coming to be.

When desire is aroused, unless you kindle the flame, the furnace is not set ablaze, unless you supply fuel to the matter.

And the furnace is not kindled, unless you busy yourself with beautiful faces, unless you pry curiously into other forms of beauty, unless you go up into theatres of lawlessness.

For if you do not fatten the flesh with luxury, if you do not drown your reason in wine, the flame is not raised, the furnace is not kindled, the beast does not become more savage, the purity of the mind is not torn apart as though by wild winds.

Are these things then sufficient, one asks, for escaping the flame of sin? These alone are not sufficient, but other things too must be added: unceasing prayers, the company of holy men, moderate fasting, a frugal manner of life, necessary occupations, and above all else the fear of God, the judgment to come, the unbearable punishments, and the promises of good things.

Through all these things you are able to bridle the raging desire, and to still the surging sea.

And Thou, O Lord, how long? Return, O Lord, deliver my soul; save me for Thy mercy's sake.

Continually he sets down the word 'Lord,' as though putting forward some plea for pardon and grace;

for this is our greatest hope: His unspeakable love for mankind, and the fact that He is so ready to grant pardon.

And the phrase 'How long' belongs not to one who despairs or is exasperated, but to one who grieves and is in pain, and cannot bear the burden that comes from trials.

Return, O Lord; deliver my soul.

Here he sets down two things: that He should turn back, and that He should deliver my soul.

For this above all is what the righteous earnestly long for: that He be reconciled to them, and be gracious and kindly disposed, and not turn away.

For upon this there also follows another thing: the salvation of the soul;

not as many of mankind do, and especially the more carnal-minded, who seek one thing only, namely, that they may enjoy their present prosperity;

but rather that they may enjoy the salvation that pertains to the soul, than which nothing was more precious to them.

For in death there is none that remembereth Thee;

and in Hades who shall give Thee thanks? See how many reasons he sets down.

Because I am weak, he says; because my bones are troubled; because I ask these things of the Lord; because in death there is none that remembereth Thee;

not saying this, that our existence lasts only up to the present;

for he knows the doctrine concerning the resurrection;

but that after our departure from this world repentance would have no opportunity.

Since the rich man also confessed and repented, but gained no benefit because of the unseasonableness.

And the virgins too wished to obtain oil, but no one gave it to them.

This therefore is what this man also asks, to wash away his sins here, so that at the fearful judgment-seat he may enjoy boldness of access.

Then, teaching the hearer that together with the love of God our own part must also follow — for whether we plead our weakness, or the disturbance, or the goodness of God, or this very thing that he was saying, yet if what is required from us is not added, we gain no profit — see what he goes on to add:

I am weary with my groaning; every night I will wash my bed;

I will drench my couch with my tears.

Let those who live in humble circumstances hear what repentance a king, clothed even in purple, displayed;

he did not simply grow weary, but he toiled in groaning;

he did not simply weep, but he washed his bed — not for one day, or a second, or a third, but every single night;

and he speaks not only of the past, but also of the future.

For do not suppose that, having done this once, he thenceforth gave himself over to ease; rather he continued to do this unremittingly throughout his whole life.

Not like us, who, doing this once in a single day, or not even once, give ourselves over to laughter and luxury and ease;

but he continued in unceasing tears.

This confession, then, let us too imitate.

For if we are unwilling to weep here, it will be utterly necessary to lament and to weep there;

there to no profit, but here with gain;

and there with shame, but here with much seemliness.

For that this must come to pass, hear what Christ says:

There shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth.

But not so those who weep here;

rather, they shall enjoy much comfort: for 'Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted.'

'Woe unto you that are rich, for ye have received your consolation.'

Let those who possess silver couches hear what manner of couch the king had:

not set with precious stones, not overlaid with gold, but washed with tears.

For him the nights were not nights of rest, but nights of lamentation and mourning.

Since in the daytime many cares hemmed him in, the very season that all men make a time of rest, that season he made a time of confession, mourning then all the more fervently.

For it is always good to weep, but especially in the season of the night, when no one drives one out of this wondrous delight, but it is possible for whoever wishes to take his fill with all freedom.

Those who have gained experience of what I say know how much gladness these fountains of tears contain.

These tears are able to quench the unquenchable fire, that river which is drawn along before the judgment-seat.

For this reason Paul also wept for three years, night and day, setting right the passions of others;

but we do not weep even over our own, but giving ourselves over to laughter and luxury, we bury the night in deep stupor.

And some are nailed fast to a sleep that resembles death;

while others keep a wakefulness more grievous than death, reckoning up at that hour their interest, their loans, and the schemes of others.

But not so those who are sober; rather they cultivate their own souls, using these tears like rain, and causing the seeds of virtue to grow.

To all vice and wantonness the bed that receives such tears is impassable.

He who lets fall such tears deems nothing of the things upon the earth, but frees his soul from every siege,

and renders his mind brighter than the sun.

And do not suppose that I say these things to monks only;

for the exhortation is to worldly people also, and to these more than to those;

for these are they who most of all have need of the medicines of repentance.

He who mourns in this way will rise up with his soul in a better state than a calm harbor, having cast out all the passions;

such a one, filled with much gladness, will come to the house of God with boldness;

he will converse with his neighbor with pleasure;

for no wrath lurks within, no desire inflames him, no love of money, no envy, nor anything else of the sort.

For all these, like wild beasts lurking in their dens, that groaning and those tears have caused to sink down and hide away through the night.

My eye was troubled because of wrath.

Do you see a contrite soul? Having spoken of repentance, he speaks again of the passions, of the tumult in the mind, of the fear that arises from the wrath of God.

For here by 'eye' he means the eye of the soul, that discerning and rational faculty, which the thought of one's own sins is wont to trouble.

For since he continually kept his transgressions before his eyes, and reckoned up the wrath of God, being in fear, not living without feeling as the many do, but agonizing and trembling.

Such tumult is the mother of calm;

such fear is the ground of confidence.

He who is thus troubled casts out every storm;

he who does not have his soul in such a state will undergo a grievous tempest.

And just as a ship without ballast, delivered up to the rush of wild winds, is quickly plunged beneath the waves,

so also a soul that lives without any sense of feeling lies exposed to a thousand passions.

Therefore the blessed Paul also, pointing to this affliction, said:

"Who, being past feeling, have given themselves over unto lasciviousness, to work all uncleanness with greediness."

And just as a helmsman, so long as he is troubled by his cares for those aboard, keeps them all in calm; but if, freed from this concern, he falls asleep, he brings on great turmoil;

the one who is anxious and trembling and troubled sets his own mind at rest;

but the one who gives himself over to the slumber of indolence sends the vessel to the bottom.

"I have grown old among all mine enemies."

What does "I have grown old" mean? "I have been weakened," he says, "by my enemies."

For our life is a life of struggle, and our existence is filled with a thousand enemies, who grow the stronger whenever we fall into sins.

Therefore we must do everything to escape their grasp, and never to be reconciled with them;

for this is for us the foundation of the greatest security.

Paul, making known the phalanx of these enemies, said:

"Our wrestling is not against blood and flesh, but against the principalities, against the powers, against the world-rulers of the darkness of this age."

Since, then, the phalanx of our foes is such as this, we must arm ourselves always and unceasingly, and flee the onsets of sins.

For nothing is so wont to make one old as the nature of sin.

Wherefore Paul also, bidding us shake off the aging that comes from this source, said:

"Be not conformed to this age, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind."

So then, whenever you have been made old by sin, renew yourself through repentance.

"Depart from me, all ye workers of iniquity, for the Lord hath heard the voice of my weeping."

"The Lord hath heard my supplication; the Lord hath received my prayer."

This too is no small road leading to virtue: to flee the wicked.

This very thing Christ also demands of us with such surpassing strictness, that He bids us cut off even friends who are to us in the rank of most necessary members, whenever they cause us to stumble, and their company brings us some harm.

"For if," He says, "thy eye cause thee to stumble,"

"and if thy hand cause thee to stumble, cut it off, and cast it from thee;"

not speaking of bodily members—far from it—

but of genuine friends, whose friendships we ought to hold in dishonour whenever there comes no gain either to them or to us, but only harm.

Having achieved this virtue, this man too not only did not pursue such fellowships, but even urged these men to leap away from him.

This is the fruit of repentance; this is the gain of tears.

For a mind thus broken is no longer held fast by any attachment.

This, then, let us also do;

even if it be one who wears a very diadem, yet if he harms us, let us hold his friendship in dishonour.

For nothing is more worthless than a man, even a reigning one, when he lives with wickedness;

just as nothing is more kingly, even a prisoner, when he has acquired virtue.

"For the Lord hath heard the voice of my weeping."

He did not say, "Because He heard my voice," simply, but, "The voice of my weeping."

Do you see how he brings in his own contributions too with great abundance—both a voice and a weeping—here calling "voice" not the pitch of the outcry, but the disposition of the mind, and "weeping" not only that from the eyes, but also that from the soul? For he who brings repentance and is heard by God can easily accomplish this good thing also: to thrust away the fellowship of the wicked.

"Let all mine enemies be ashamed and sore troubled;"

"let them be turned back, and be put to shame very speedily."

This prayer has the greatest benefit—I mean both the being ashamed and the going back.

For those who run in an evil course, if they are put to shame and turn back again, will make an end of their wickedness.

For just as, if we see a man being carried toward a precipice, we pull him back from his forward rush, saying:

'Man, where are you being swept? A precipice will meet you ahead!'

even so does he too deem it fitting that the wicked should run back again in the other direction.

So too, if one does not swiftly rein in a maddened horse, it will swiftly perish.

So too physicians, when the venom of some serpent is often spreading with great speed over the whole body, halt its further advance, checking its malignant force.

Let us then do this very thing, and let us hold back the wickedness within us with great speed, lest as it advances it should increase the disease.

For when they are neglected, the wounds of our sins grow greater, and the effects of the disease and infirmity do not stop at wounds, but even give birth to death that never dies; whereas if from the very beginning we do away with small things, neither will the great ones follow.

He who has taken care not to insult will not even know how to quarrel;

he who does not know how to quarrel will also succeed in loving;

he who has succeeded in loving will have no enemy;

and he who has no enemy, but displays love, will achieve every virtue.

Let us then not neglect the first things, lest our evils be raised up to something greater.

Judas, if he had chastised the love of money, would never have come to sacrilege;

and if he had restrained this, he would never have leapt out to the very crown of evils.

For this reason Christ too holds back not fornication only, nor adultery only, but even the unchaste glance, plucking up the root from below, so that it may be even easier to overcome wickedness.

This he did also in the case of the Jews, though in a coarser manner and as it were through riddles, since the discourse was addressed to those more carnal; yet he did it nonetheless.

How, and in what manner? He did not permit any mixture among cattle from different kinds; he did not permit the eating of the blood of irrational beasts; he did not permit the holding of pledges after evening, thereby holding back great evils:

by the first, unnatural intercourse between males; by the second, murders; by the third, cruelty and inhumanity.

But now all things are done unrestrainedly and with much shamelessness;

for this reason everything has been turned upside down.

Whenever, therefore, you admit some small passion, do not regard this, that it is small, but consider that what is nourished from it gives birth to the greatest terrors.

For indeed, when we see a small piece of tow catch fire in a house, we are alarmed and thrown into confusion;

for we do not attend to the beginning, but reckoning the end from the beginning, we are alarmed and run about, so as to quench the whole furnace.

More fiercely than this fire does wickedness feed upon the soul.

For if we grow slothful, the correction becomes more difficult.

One may see this happening on a ship also, and the sailors thrown into confusion, not when they see the sea already flooding over, but even when it is about to do so.

Let us therefore not be slothful toward small sins, but let us hold them back with great vehemence, so that we may be delivered from the greater ones and may attain to the things to come, by the grace and lovingkindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, might, and honor, now and ever, and unto the ages of ages.