Commentary on the Psalms 37

They that trust in the Lord shall be as Mount Zion.

What does the addition of 'Zion' intend? For why did he not say simply, 'as a mountain,' but makes mention of that particular mountain? To teach us not to be brought low in calamities, nor to be plunged under, but, clinging to the hope that is in God, to bear all things nobly—wars, and battles, and tumults.

Since this mountain too, having once become desolate and stripped bare of its inhabitants, returned again to its former prosperity, recovering its ancient wellbeing by the return of its own people and by the displays of wonders;

In this way the noble man also, though he suffer countless dreadful things, will not be overturned.

Do not, then, seek the life free from danger, unburdened by affairs, and untouched by hardship, but rather the life that is not swept away by dangers.

For it is not the same thing to display one's skill while sitting in harbour, and to display it while tossed about on the open sea.

For the one becomes sluggish, and soft, and without vigour;

but the other, having endured many hidden reefs, many rocky shoals, many violent winds, and all the other perils that come from the sea, and having come safely through them all, renders his soul stronger than itself.

For it is for this reason that you were brought forth into the present life: not that you should be idle, nor that you should lie slack, nor that you should suffer nothing dreadful, but that, having suffered, you might become more resplendent.

Let us not, then, seek ease, nor the life brimming with luxury.

For such a craving belongs not to a noble man, but to a worm—to an irrational creature rather than to one possessing reason.

But pray above all not to fall into temptation;

do not be vexed, do not be alarmed, nor be troubled, but do everything so that you may become more resplendent.

Do you not see how the bravest of soldiers, when the trumpet summons, look toward the trophies, toward the victories, toward the crowns, toward those of their forefathers who have triumphed? You too, then, when the spiritual trumpet sounds, stand firm, becoming fiercer than a lion;

step in, though it be fire, though it be sword.

Even the elements know how to stand in awe of those who are truly brave.

Even the wild beasts know how to dread those who are thus noble.

Even though it be maddened by hunger, or by its very nature, it forgets all things when it beholds a righteous man, and it masters its passion.

Fortify yourself, then, with these weapons, and you will not fear even fire, even though you see the flame mounting up to heaven.

You have a noble Commander, who is able to do all things, and who by a mere nod loosens dreadful perils.

All things are His—heaven, and earth, and sea, and beasts, and fire;

for Him all things are easy both to transpose and to remove with perfect ease.

Whence, then, do you fear? Tell me.

From nowhere else, but only from sluggishness and your own slothfulness.

Is not death the crowning point of evils? Yet even this is a debt owed to nature.

Why do you not turn the debt to profit? For if it is necessary to travel this road, whether willing or unwilling, why not do so with gain? Yet the gain comes with torments that are not fleeting, but yield a pleasure greater than the pain.

But if these things seem to you to be hard, consider those who suffer without any reward:

those given over to a long-drawn decay, those wrestling with unremitting hunger, those afflicted with incurable and lingering diseases—on account of which they have often prayed to end their lives, and many have even rushed to the noose and to the sword.

But before you lies heaven, and the good things that are in the heavens; and do you not shudder, and are you not afraid of growing soft, and that too when you have such an Ally? Do you not hear the Prophet saying, 'They that trust in the Lord shall be as Mount Zion'? For he said 'mountain' to signify that the hope which rests on God cannot be overturned—that it is firmly fixed, unconquerable, invincible.

For just as, though a man bring against it countless engines of war, he will be able neither to uproot nor to shake a mountain;

so he who assails the man who has his hope set upon God will retire homeward with empty hands.

For far more secure than a mountain is the hope that is set upon God.

'He that dwells in Jerusalem shall not be shaken for ever.'

Another translator says, 'That which is inhabited about Jerusalem shall be unshakable for ever.'

What then? 'Were not the three children and Daniel shaken?' one may ask. Away with the thought!

For they fell from their homeland and underwent captivity, yet never any tossing whatsoever;

but amid such a tumult of affairs, and being in so great a multitude of waves, they suffered nothing disagreeable, as though standing upon a rock and lying at anchor in a calm harbour.

Do not, then, call the pressure of circumstances a tossing.

For this is not tossing, but rather the ruin of the soul, and the falling away from virtue;

which those who are sober do not endure in the midst of dangers, but rather they possess their own philosophy the more securely, and shine forth the more brightly.

But if you wish to take what has been said in a higher, anagogical sense—namely, that 'He that dwells in Jerusalem shall not be shaken for ever'—then picture that abiding portion there, in the mother-city on high.

For those who have received that city are set free from every circumstance;

there is no longer there anything to trip us up—no craving, nor pleasures, nor the pressure of sin, no grief and anguish and danger, but all these things are put out of the way.

As for Jerusalem, mountains are round about her, and the Lord is round about His people from henceforth and even for ever.

By these words he indeed speaks of the natural defence that belongs to the city by reason of its position;

yet he does not permit them to take courage in these things, but lifts them up to the invincible help, namely God.

For even though the mountains wall her about, he says, yet she has need of that security;

and it is this that renders her impregnable. Wherefore another interpreter also says, 'And the Lord is about His people.'

That is to say, do not take courage in the encircling wall of the mountains.

For that which makes her impregnable is this: that the Lord will not suffer the rod of sinners to rest upon the lot of the righteous.

He states a reasonable ground for God's help, so that those men also may take courage.

And what is this ground? He would not endure, he says, that the good things of the righteous should be in the hands of sinners.

This he said, at once making them confident concerning God's alliance, and persuading them to abide in virtue, if indeed they wished continually to enjoy His help and to be masters of their own good things.

For by these words he shows that both the possession and the security lie in their own disposition of mind.

And by 'the rod of sinners' he here calls the kingdom of the enemies.

And what he means is this:

He will not suffer them to prevail over the inheritance of the righteous.

For even if He has done this for a season, yet it was for the sake of correction and admonition and chastening.

That the righteous might not stretch out their hands unto iniquities.

Another rendering: 'For this cause the righteous do not stretch out their hands unto lawlessness.'

For what cause? Because of what was said, that He will stand as their protector, that He will avenge, that He will repel, that He will drive away the enemies from their possessions.

Being chastened by the trial, and becoming better by the supply of good things, they will continue to abide in virtue, and will not lay hold of wickedness on either side.

So that the whole came to pass for this end, that their soul might become better, being corrected by the visitation of hardships, and being rendered more eager by the giving of good things.

Do good, O Lord, unto the good.

And unto them that are upright in heart.

But as for such as turn aside unto crooked ways, the Lord shall lead them forth with the workers of iniquity.

Do you see how in every case the beginnings both of enjoying good things and of undergoing punishments come from us? But even if the beginnings are from us, nevertheless even so the great splendour of God's love for mankind is displayed;

for out of His great abundance He surpasses us in His recompenses;

and in the case of sins He brings a measured punishment, but in the case of good deeds He bestows a recompense that exceeds all bounds.

And 'the upright' he here calls those who are without guile, without dissimulation, who have nothing shadowed over and festering within.

For such is uprightness, which above all God seeks in every place.

Such is virtue, smooth and easy; just as wickedness, on the contrary, is distorted, manifold, and impassable;

and this one may see from the very facts themselves.

Consider, at any rate, the man who wishes to lie and to stitch together deceits, how many things he attempts, how much intricacy he requires, what fabricated words, how great a cleverness.

But he who speaks the truth needs no toil, no difficulty, no dissembling, no contrivances, nothing of the sort, since that truth of itself shines forth by its own light.

For just as bodies that are ill-formed need many external artifices and coverings from without to conceal the deformity that comes from nature;

while those that are by nature beautiful shine of themselves, contending on their own;

so also in the case of falsehood and of truth one may find it to be, and of vice and of virtue.

Whence it is plain that vice brings on its own punishment even before the punishment, and virtue gives its own reward even before the recompense.

For just as she, virtue, has her prizes in herself even before the crowns;

so also she, vice, has her punishment in herself even before the chastisement.

For what could be more grievous than sin, considered as a punishment? For this reason Paul also, having made mention of those who prostituted themselves, who gave over their bodily prime and overturned the laws of nature, declared this to be the greatest punishment, even before the chastisement.

For 'men with men,' he says, 'working that which is unseemly, and receiving in themselves the recompense of their error which was meet.'

calling their licentiousness and their conduct the recompense of their sin.

He brought his discourse to a close with a prayer.

For such are the souls of the saints;

to their exhortation and counsel they add prayer, thereby bringing to their hearers a most powerful ally.

By peace here he means not only this peace that is perceived by the senses, but also that which is higher than it, from which this peace too is born; and he prays that the soul may not be at strife with itself, bringing upon itself the war of the passions.

This peace, then, let us also seek, that we may be able to attain the good things that have been promised, by the grace and loving-kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be the glory and the might, unto the ages of ages.