Commentary on the Psalms 4 part 1/3

A psalm of David, which he sang to the Lord concerning the words of Cush the son of Jemini.

O Lord my God, in you have I hoped;

save me from all who pursue me, and deliver me.

We ought indeed to have such an exact knowledge of the Scriptures and of the histories that we should not need a longer discourse for the teaching of these things;

but since some, being occupied with the affairs of this life, and others, giving themselves over to slothfulness, are inattentive to these matters, it becomes necessary to draw out the discourse to greater length, setting forth the subject of the psalm.

But give heed with exactness.

What then is the subject? 'A psalm of David, which he sang to the Lord.'

'A psalm concerning ignorance, of David.'

And instead of 'Cush,' it says 'the Ethiopian.' But even so, what is said is unclear, because you are ignorant of the history.

But since one must not only reprove, but also teach, it is necessary to take hold of the narrative.

Who then is this Cush the son of Jemini, and what are his words, on behalf of which David sang this song to God? This must now be told from this point, tracing the account back to its beginning.

Absalom was born a son to David, a young man licentious and corrupt;

This man once rose up in rebellion against his own father;

and having cast him out of his kingdom, his house, and his homeland, he himself seized everything in his father's place; and he stood in awe neither of nature, nor of his upbringing, nor of age, nor of the benefits he had first received.

Rather, he was so utterly savage and cruel, a beast rather than a man, that having burst through all these restraints, he leapt upon the very laws of nature, and filled all things with turmoil and uproar.

For indeed everything was then overthrown: the bounds of nature, the reverence men owe one another, godly fear toward God, humane kindness and mercy, the recompense due for nurture, and the respect owed to old age.

For even if he was unwilling to reverence him as a father, he ought at least to have respected him as an old man;

and if he disregarded his grey hairs, he ought to have been ashamed before him as before a benefactor;

and if not even so, then at least as before one who had done him no wrong.

But the lust for power cast out all this reverence, and made the man a beast.

And so this blessed man, who had both begotten him and reared him,

wandered as a vagrant and a fugitive through the wilderness, like an exile in a foreign land, oppressed by the evils that came upon him from that quarter;

while the other reveled amid his father's good things.

While affairs stood thus, with the armies drawn up on that man's side and the cities under the tyrant's power, a certain man named Hushai, a decent man and a friend of David, continued to preserve his friendship toward him amid this change of circumstances;

and when he saw him suddenly wandering through the wilderness, he tore his tunic, sprinkled ashes upon himself, and wailed bitterly and piteously;

and since he could do nothing else, he offered the consolation that comes from tears.

For he was no friend of the times, nor of power, but of virtue;

and for this reason, when the sovereignty had passed away, he did not change his friendship.

David therefore, seeing him doing these things, said to him:

"These things indeed befit a friend, one truly disposed toward us;

yet they will profit us nothing; rather, we must take counsel and consider by what means the terrible things that have overtaken us may be undone, and we may find some release from our calamities."

Having said this, he proposed to him a plan of this sort:

"Go to my son, and putting on the mask of a friend, scatter his plans for me, and render null the counsel of Ahithophel."

Now this Ahithophel at that time held sway with the tyrant, being formidable in the arts of war, and formidable also as a general in battle and combat;

and for this reason David feared him even more than the tyrant himself;

so formidable in counsel was the man.

Having heard these things, that man was persuaded, and he reckoned nothing faint-hearted or unmanly, nor did he say:

"But what if I am caught? What if my mask is stripped off? What if the drama of my pretense is detected? Ahithophel is formidable;

perhaps he will expose this too, and make it manifest, and I shall perish in vain and to no purpose."

Reflecting on none of such things, he leapt into the tyrant's camp, having cast the whole matter upon God, and flung himself into the midst of dangers.

These things have been told by me, not merely that we may praise, but that we may also learn the grievous sufferings that David endured, and whatever other profits it is possible to reap from the history; and let us bring these too into the open.

For behold: that which is continually inquired after by the multitude, namely why the righteous are afflicted while the wicked are at their ease, this may here be found out.

For the righteous man was in calamities;

while the defiled one, the parricide, the very enemy and foe of nature itself, was in prosperity and in royal courts;

yet neither did the former gain anything thereby, nor was this holy man harmed;

but rather the one became liable to greater afflictions;

while the other shone the more brilliantly, like gold in the furnace, becoming purer through affliction.

This, then, learn first of all from here: not to be troubled amid such misfortunes, when you see them befalling the righteous;

another lesson after this: not to shift with the times, but to know the laws of friendship;

third, to dare even dangers for the sake of virtue;

fourth, to be of good hope even in desperate straits, awaiting the help that comes from God.

For that Hushai too, at that time, looked neither at the army, nor at the fear of the tyrant, nor at the multitude of horses, nor at the phalanxes of the armed men, nor at the cities already seized, nor at David's desolation, nor at his solitude and weakness.

But looking to one thing only, the invincible alliance of God and His good will, he judged both parties in this way, and found the one to be rotten and the other strong.

For the one was acting unjustly, while the other kept himself on the side of righteousness.

Standing therefore not where there was a multitude of men, but where there was the alliance of virtue, he thus drew God to himself.

I say these things so that we too, even if those who hold the just cause be weak, may cherish their side;

and even if those who act unjustly be strong, we may flee their alliance.

For wickedness, even if it should have the whole world with it, is weaker than all things;

but virtue, even if it should happen to be alone, is mightier than all things;

for it has God standing on its side.

Who then can save the one whom God wars against? And who can destroy the one whom He helps? So Hushai, reasoning wisely on all these things and becoming full of good hope, went off to where he was being sent;

and as he arrived, seeing the tyrant riding in, he approached him.

But the other, seeing him suddenly and being drunk with love of power, did not examine matters carefully, but mocking and reproaching him said, 'Be off with your comrade!'—not even deigning to speak his name, out of much hatred and enmity.

To him Hushai, in no way disturbed nor thrown into confusion, said:

'When God was with him, I was minded to his side;

but since He is now with you, it follows that I should serve your interests.'

This lifted up the tyrant and puffed him up, and without examining anything carefully—for a shallow man believes every word—

which indeed that man too suffered, and being carried headlong by the opposite course, he at once brought him in among his trusted men and enrolled him among his foremost friends.

But God was ordering the whole matter, being present and marshalling the things that took place.

And thereafter, when a council was set concerning war, and some were advancing one proposal, others another, as to whether they ought to attack at once, or wait a little,

Ahithophel, that man so formidable in counsel, came forward and, offering his opinion, put forth this advice, saying:

'Let us fall upon your father now, while he is worn out and troubled.

For by not allowing him even a little to stand firm, we would thus overcome him;

for if we fall upon him now while he is unprepared, there will not be even a single labour for us.'

Having heard these things, the tyrant summoned Hushai also, who had deserted to him in pretense, and shared with him too the substance of the counsel;

which was not according to human logic—that one who had come suddenly should be so honoured and reckoned worthy of trust, as even to be deemed worthy of counsel concerning affairs of such gravity;

but, as I said before, when God marshals the battle, even difficult things become easy.

So Hushai was brought in, and the tyrant granted him freedom of speech and bade him say what was on his mind.

What then did Hushai say? 'Never,' he said, 'has Ahithophel failed in his counsel.'

Do you see the man's sagacity? He does not at once cast out his opinion, but does so with a word of praise.

For having first admired him as one who in former times had given timely counsel, he thus finds fault with the present opinion. And what he says is of this sort:

'I marvel how he has now missed the mark;

for this reasoning does not seem to me to be expedient.

For if we attack now, your father, like a she-bear driven mad, full of wrath and despairing of his own life, and warring with his anger at its height, will make no account of his own safety, and will fall upon us with great violence.

But if we yield a little, we shall attack with greater preparation and greater safety, and without toil and with all ease, taking him as in a dragnet, we shall thus bring him back.'

Absalom approved the opinion and declared it to be more advantageous for him.

And Hushai said these things wishing to give time to David, so that he might stand firm a little, and catch his breath, and gather an army.

Having thus cast out the opinion of Ahithophel, he sent word by certain hidden men and reported everything to David—both that the tyrant had ratified his own counsel, the one that would bring victory to David.

For since he had yielded a little, David, having prepared himself, attacked and set up the trophy.

This Ahithophel, perceiving out of much sagacity and cleverness, and thereupon already learning the outcome—that this counsel was destruction for Absalom—not bearing the disgrace that would follow, went off, fastened a noose, and hanged himself, and thus ended his life.

Having therefore learned all these things, David wrote the psalm, offering up hymns of thanksgiving to God, and ascribing to Him the whole stratagem.

Wherefore also, in beginning, he speaks somewhat in this way:

O Lord my God, in Thee have I hoped: save me.

Not in Hushai, nor in human wisdom, nor in that man's shrewdness, nor in my own counsel, but 'In Thee.'

This, then, let us also do: even if some good outcome comes to us through men, let us give thanks to God for these things, both for the benefits that come to us through ourselves and for those that come through others.

For if we act thus, nothing will be difficult nor crooked;

which indeed is what David also did, all but saying:

I did not set the hope of my salvation in the words of Hushai, but in Thine alliance.

And behold with how great an affection he speaks;

for he did not say, 'Lord God,' merely;

O God, my God, unto Thee do I rise early.

For indeed together with all men he had need of Him;

yet in a special way, because of the exceeding greatness of his longing.

Thus God also does this in the case of the righteous, and though He is the common God of all, He says in a special way that He is the God of the righteous.

I am the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.

Having said, 'Lord my God, in Thee have I hoped,' he did not say, 'Punish my adversary, slay my enemy;'

but what? He seeks only what concerns himself, and says, 'Save me' — that is, 'Do not suffer me to be evilly treated, from all them that persecute me, and deliver me.'

Behold how, even while suffering evil, he does not mention the father-slayer by name, both recognizing nature in his calamity, and seeing a son amid the war, and not forgetting his own bowels of compassion amid the dangers.

So loving to his child was he, and so tender-hearted;

or rather, so full of wisdom.

For it was not the tyranny of nature, but the gentleness of his disposition that rather made him to be such; and he reckoned the greater share to the army than to the usurper;

Save me from all them that persecute me, and deliver me.

Seest thou how he does not even vehemently mention those men? For he did not say, 'From them that make war on me, that plunder my goods, that revel in my palaces,' but, 'From them that persecute me.'

Lest at any time he seize my soul like a lion, while there is none to redeem, nor to save.

And yet he had gathered armies, and had many men with him;

how then does he say, 'While there is none to redeem, nor to save'? Because he does not count the whole world as any part of an ally, unless he enjoy the help from above; nor does he count himself to be in a desert, even were he alone, so long as he shares in that One's alliance.

A king is not saved by great power, and a giant shall not be saved by the abundance of his strength.

But some, taking this saying according to a higher, anagogical sense, affirm that the lion and the pursuers are the devil and the demons.

For since he saw his son seized and swallowed up by him, he prays that he himself may never suffer this, and he tells also the cause for which that one so suffered.

And what is the cause? Through his wickedness, he says, he drove the alliance of God away from himself.

For this reason he says, 'While there is none to redeem, nor to save.'

And that the devil is called a lion by the Scripture, hear it saying:

Your adversary the devil goes about as a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour.

And this same prophet in another place:

And thou shalt trample upon the lion and the dragon.

For the beast is of many wiles;

but if we are watchful, this lion and dragon will be cheaper than any mud, and will not even set himself in array against us openly; but even should he set himself in array, he shall be trampled underfoot.

For 'Ye shall tread,' He says, 'upon serpents and scorpions.'

For he goes about indeed with much fury, like a lion;

but if he assails those who have Christ, and the cross upon their forehead, and the fire of the Spirit, and the lamp that is never quenched, he will not be able even to look them in the face, but turning his back he will depart, not daring even to turn around.

And that thou mayest learn that the things said are no empty boast

For he too was a man, and yet this lion so dreaded him that he fled even from his garments and his shadows.

For he could not bear the fragrance of Christ breathing forth and rising up from him, nor was he strong enough to look back against the lamp of his virtue.

O Lord my God, if I have done this, if there is iniquity in my hands.

Everywhere we must observe this, that we must not simply pray, but pray in such a way that we may also be heard.

For it is not enough that prayer should accomplish the matter set before it, unless we frame it in the way that seems good to God.

Since the Pharisee too prayed, and gained nothing; and again the Jews prayed, but God turned away while they were praying.

for they did not pray as one ought to pray.

For this reason we too have been commanded to pray the prayer that is most able to be heard.

This too he made clear in the prayer preceding this one, not simply asking to be heard, but along with contributing what was his own.

And what were these things? The saying, 'I will wash my bed every night, with my tears I will drench my couch';

the saying, 'I am weary with my groaning';

the saying, 'Depart from me, all you who work iniquity';

the saying, 'My eye is troubled because of wrath.'

For all these things are sufficient to draw God to us:

lamentations, tears, groanings, and springing away from the wicked, and dreading and trembling at His verdict.

And elsewhere he said, 'God heard my righteousness';

For being heard comes about in this way:

first, then, from being worthy to receive;

next, from praying according to the laws of God;

fourth, from asking nothing worldly;

fifth, from seeking things that are profitable;

sixth, from contributing everything on one's own part.

See, then, many who were heard in this way:

Cornelius, from his manner of life;

the Syrophoenician woman, from her perseverance;

Solomon, from the manner of his asking;

'Because you did not ask for riches,' He says, 'nor for the lives of your enemies';

the tax collector, from his humility.

As, therefore, being heard comes about from these things, so from the opposite side comes not being heard, even though those who ask be righteous.

For who became more righteous than Paul? Yet because he asked for things unprofitable, he was not heard.

'Concerning this,' he says, 'I besought the Lord three times, and He said to me';

And again, who was more righteous than Moses? Yet neither was he heard, when God said;

For since he asked to enter into the land of promise, and this was unprofitable, God did not permit it.

Along with these there is yet another thing that makes us not heard: when we pray while persisting in our sins.

Which also God said to Jeremiah concerning the Jews:

'Do not pray for this people.'

'Do you not see what these people are doing? They have not turned away,' He says, 'from their ungodliness, and do you offer up supplication on their behalf? But I will not hearken to you.'

Again, when we ask against our enemies, not only are we not heard, but we even provoke God.

For prayer is a medicine;

but if we do not know how the medicine ought to be applied, neither do we reap its benefit.

Let us see, then, what this man too says as he prays:

'O Lord my God, if I have done this.'

What does 'If I have done this' mean? That which I suffer, he says, if I rose up against my father, if I transgressed the law in this way.

But even here again he does not endure to name the one who wronged him, but is ashamed and blushes on behalf of his son.

It is as if some noble man, seeing his own wife committing adultery, would not consent to bring the offence by name into the open;

'If I rose up against him who begot me, if I became a slayer of my father';

For what virtue is there in not becoming a slayer of one's father—a thing which one would not find even among the wild beasts? 'If there is iniquity in my hands.'

I do not speak concerning this particular injustice;

but neither, he says, could any other injustice be found existing in my hands.

He says these things not out of boastfulness, but having fallen into the necessity of speaking of his own good deeds.

But not even so is this a great thing compared with what is about to be said.

And what is this? 'If I have repaid with evil those who repaid me,' he says.

For what is here said is no ordinary matter.

For it is a good thing not to do wrong;

but far greater, and the mark of a philosophic soul, is not to avenge oneself on the one who wrongs.

And yet the Law did allow this, commanding to strike out an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth;

and what was done was no transgression of the Law;

but so philosophic was this man that he not only did not transgress the Law, but even, out of great abundance, surpassed it and leapt beyond the boundary lines.

For he did not think it enough for virtue, unless he should also overshoot the commandments.

Just as Paul also did, who, though commanded to live by the Gospel, yet did not live thereby, but made the Gospel free of charge;

so then also the blessed David, when the Law permitted him to avenge himself on the one who wronged him, did not remain within this measure, but even overshot it.

But of us not this only is required, not to repay, but also to do good.

'For pray,' He says, 'for those who spitefully use you, do good to those who hate you.'

But in David's case not to avenge oneself was no small thing, but even far greater than the precept of the Law.

Therefore he says, 'If I have done this, if there is iniquity in my hands;'

'if I have repaid with evil those who repaid me.'

For in the case of his son even nature itself forbade it;

'but if I have wronged others,' he says, 'or even avenged myself.'

What pardon, then, could we have, what defence, if after the coming of Christ we do not attain to the measure of those who lived under the Old Covenant, and this when a great abundance is required of us? For 'unless your righteousness exceeds that of the Pharisees,' He says, 'you shall by no means enter the kingdom of heaven.'

For just as the one who accomplishes the same deeds under the Law is not equal to the one before the Law;

so neither is the one under grace equal to the one under the Law, but from the very difference of the times a great distinction arises.

Paul, showing this both in regard to vice and to virtue, observe how he both marvels the more at those men, and declares these others to be deserving of greater punishment, speaking thus:

'For when Gentiles, who do not have the Law, do by nature the things of the Law, these, not having the Law, are a law to themselves.'

Do you see how he praises and proclaims aloud those who do right apart from the Law? Observe again how he shows that those who sin under grace are deserving of greater chastisement than those who transgressed under the Law, speaking thus:

'Anyone who has set aside the law of Moses dies without mercy on the testimony of two or three witnesses;'

'of how much worse punishment, do you suppose, will he be deemed worthy who has trampled underfoot the Son of God, and counted the blood of the covenant a common thing?' And again, showing that those before the Law were deserving of less punishment than those who transgressed under the Law, 'As many as have sinned without the Law,' he says, 'shall also perish without the Law;'

that is, more gently, since they do not have the Law as accuser, but only nature;

'and as many as have sinned under the Law shall be judged by the Law;'

that is, more heavily, since together with nature they have also the Law as accuser.

'Let me then fall away from my enemies empty.'

'Let the enemy then pursue my soul and overtake it, and let him trample my life to the ground, and lay my glory in the dust.'

Do you see the boldness of a righteous man, and an excellent conscience? For unless he had exceeding confidence in himself, he would never have called down such curses upon his own head.

And what he means is this:

If I have done wrong, if I have taken vengeance, then let me suffer this and that;

and he pronounces the sentence against himself, and does not think it fit to be judged according to strict measure, but rather to pay a penalty far beyond what is deserved;

and he makes himself liable to a punishment, of which he says:

Let me fall away, he says, empty-handed before my enemies.

Then let the enemy pursue my soul, and overtake it, and trample my life to the ground, and lay my glory in the dust.

That is: Let him destroy me dishonored and nameless, and together with my life let him utterly ruin my glory as well.

What does it mean, And lay my glory in the dust? To bring low, to trample down;

let me become an easy prey to my enemies, he says.

What could be more abominable than Absalom, who persecuted his father—and such a father, one so gentle and forbearing—while he himself was licentious, unbridled, and insolent? What then? Did David repay those who requited him with evil, or bear a grudge? By no means.

And if you examine the history of Saul, then above all you will see this same declaration shining forth.

For though Saul, after countless benefits, and after the trophies and the victories, was wronging him, plotting against him, and desiring to kill him every single day, David, having caught him in his hands—once, and twice, and many times—asleep, and shut up as it were in a prison, and bereft of his bodyguards, while many urged him to slay and destroy him, yet spared him, and mastered his anger; and this though he well knew that by letting him escape he was leaving for himself an implacable foe and enemy.

But nevertheless neither the memory of the past, nor the fear of what was to come, nor any other such consideration, led him on to that slaughter;

but he played the philosopher, and restrained his hand, and bridled his wrath, and chose rather to be in danger and to be plotted against, and even to be driven out of his very homeland and his freedom, than to slay and destroy the enemy who was plotting against him without cause or reason, and thirsting for his blood despite countless benefits received.

And from many other instances as well one may see his philosophic mind;

wherefore he also calls down upon himself many grievous things—such as to return without having accomplished anything, to have his enemies prevail despite all his presence there, to die nameless, to suffer this at the hands of foes, which seems far more grievous than death itself;

wherefore also he devises countless contrivances, that he may be remembered after his end.

See then how many curses he calls down upon himself:

to toil to no purpose, to be overcome by his enemies, to die, and not even by a common death, and to have his very memory blotted out, and that with dishonor;

he would never have called down so many curses upon himself, had he not had exceeding confidence in his conscience.

But if he had an enemy, this was no charge against him;

for he himself gave no handle for it.

For what handle did he give to his son? What to Saul? Did he not, when his son had done deeds deserving of punishment, discipline him for a season, and bring him back and win him again;

and the one who thirsted for his blood, though he took him into his hands many times, did he not save alive? Consider not this, then, whether he had enemies, but whether he himself had made them.

For neither did Christ command this, that we should have no enemies;

for of this we are not masters;

for of this we are masters, but of that not altogether.

But to be hated without cause—the power over this lies not in us, but in those who hate.

For the wicked are wont to hate the good without cause and without reason.

For indeed they hated Christ Himself without cause, even as He says:

And the apostles had the false apostles for enemies, and the prophets the false prophets.

For we ought not to look to this, how we may have no enemies, but how we may not have them justly nor with good reason;

and how, even if we be hated ten thousand times over, we may not hate in return, nor turn away;

for this is enmity, to hate and to turn away.

When therefore I am hated and do not hate, that man holds me for an enemy, but I do not hold him for one.

When I pray for him, when I wish to do him good, how do I hold such a one as an enemy? For this reason Paul said:

If it be possible, as much as lieth in you, live peaceably with all men.

Let us therefore contribute our own part, and by this very thing we shall have praise sufficient.

And what is our own part? I mean something like this:

Does so-and-so hate you and wage war against you? You, for your part, love him and do him good.

Does he insult you and heap abuse on you? You, for your part, bless him and speak well of him.

But even so he does not lay aside his enmity? Then he only gives you a greater reward.

For the wicked, the more they are treated kindly yet do not put an end to their warfare, the more brilliant they procure for us the recompense, while they render themselves the weaker.

For the man who hates, and does not dissolve his enmity, wastes away, is corrupted, and lives together with unremitting war;

but the man who has risen above these darts stands beyond the surging waves, and benefits himself, even more than the other, in the greatest degree, in that, by being eager to be reconciled to that man and not to make war, he delivers himself from war and strife.

Let us therefore flee from waging war on others, and let us tear up the root of these things—vainglory and the love of money.

For a man becomes an enemy either on account of money, or on account of empty glory.

But if we are above these things, we shall also be above being caught by enmity.

And so, should he insult you, bear it nobly;

and should he strike you, do not stretch out your right hand against him in return;

for it is he himself who is the one struck, since while he strikes you with his hand, he strikes himself with his rage, and receives an evil reputation from all.

But if these things seem hard to you, consider this: if a madman had torn your cloak to pieces, whom would you say fared badly—you who suffered it, or he who did it? It is quite plain that it was he.

Then, where it is a cloak that is torn, the one who did it has suffered worse things than the one who suffered it;

then where it is the heart that is torn—for this is what rage does—will you not reckon that he has suffered greater harm than you, who have endured nothing at all? For do not say this, that it was your cloak; but rather that he first tore his own heart in pieces.

For just as jaundice could not arise unless the gall had burst and overstepped its proper bounds,

so too immoderate rage could not arise unless the heart had burst.

As therefore, if you should see someone gripped by jaundice, even were he to do you countless injuries, you would not choose to draw the disease upon yourself;