On the Inscriptions of the Psalms 1 part 3/9

A "squall" (kataigis) is the name given to a violent wind that does not fall in a straight course, but coils about itself through a sharp whirling; and whenever it happens to fall violently upon the water, as though some great rock had been cast down into it, the sea, undermined by the weight, is of necessity split apart by the force of the wind, wherever the wind, bearing down heavily, may swoop upon it — the impact of that weight making the water spring up on this side and that toward what is above.

For this reason he adds, vividly depicting the terrors, that together with the wind of the storm falling upon it: "The waves of the sea were lifted up, rising even to the heavens and descending even to the depths."

For in truth, the rising up to the height of such waves — I mean, of course, the waves of the passions — becomes the cause of the descent into the abyss.

And we have learned, in many places of Scripture, that the "abyss" is the dwelling-place of the demons.

And those who are engulfed by this disturbance and by the surge of the waves become out of their minds through dizziness, their heads made heavy as though from the drunkenness brought on by the sickness of such a voyage.

For, he says, "They were troubled and reeled to and fro like a drunken man."

But those who have once departed from right reason have no resource of counsel left for their safety; rather, their wisdom suffers shipwreck beforehand, and perishes in advance.

For this reason he says, "And all their wisdom was swallowed up."

And again, even though they have fallen into so great a mass of evils, the release from this helpless distress comes about through the cry to the Divine.

For, he says, "They cried out to the Lord in their affliction, and he brought them out of their distresses."

And at once the storm was changed into a wind both favorable and fit for sailing, and the sea, its waves subdued, grows calm through stillness.

For, he says, "He stilled the storm into a gentle breeze, and its waves were silent."

Perhaps by the term "silence" he signifies that the waves are certain powers possessed of free choice;

through which he indicates the apostate nature, to which the Lord said in the Gospel, "Be silent, be muzzled."

And by "breeze" he means the grace of the Holy Spirit, which, through the intelligible sails, brings the soul to anchor in the divine harbor, while the Word pilots it and directs it on its voyage.

For, he says, "He guided them to the harbor of his will."

This discourse proclaims these wonders of God, through which faith becomes firm for those who hear.

For, he says, "Let them exalt him in the assembly of the people, and praise him in the seat of the elders."

And he adds the reasons for these thanksgivings, namely that by God some rivers come into being, while others perish.

For the streams of vice are made to vanish;

while the outflows of the virtues flood the places that were formerly parched.

For, he says, "He turned rivers into a wilderness, and springs of water into thirsty ground."

By "rivers" he means the influxes of the passions, and by "springs of water" he means the successive sequences of evils —

whenever men, ever joining evil deeds to evil deeds, prolong, as it were some stream, the channel of vice.

But he also, he says, "made the fruitful land into salt-marsh";

for the soul that was fertile in evils, once transformed, became one that thirsts, having been seasoned with the divine salt of teaching, so that the vice of its inhabitants would no longer be nourished and increased by the wicked influxes of water; rather, the salted and thirsting soul, having taken up that blessed thirst, becomes a lake surging like a sea through the confluence of the virtues.

For, he says, "He turned the wilderness into pools of water, and the dry land into springs of water."

And this becomes a city, which those who thirst for righteousness inhabit.

For no one who is sick with nausea and devoid of appetite becomes a neighbor of such a lake and such waters, bringing with him a soul glutted with vice.

And they sow the fields and plant the vineyards;

by such riddles he signifies the divine commandments and the virtuous manner of life.

For the commandment is the seed of the fruit that is to come, and virtue is the vine that, through its rational clusters, pours the wine into the mixing-bowl of wisdom.

And these are nothing other than an abundance of blessing.

For, he says, "He blessed them, and they were multiplied exceedingly, and he did not let their cattle diminish."

By "cattle" he means the subject service rendered by the soul's movements, whenever each of the faculties within us is made useful toward virtue;

spirited passion (thumos) is a good beast of burden, whenever it becomes a yoke-animal subject to reason;

and desire (epithumia) is another such beast, which in a manner carries and bears up the soul on its back, and leads it up to the height, whenever it is guided upward by the rein of the mind.

And all the other faculties too are cattle that increase through the blessing, whenever the service that comes from them proves useful to us for great things.

Then, in the discourse that follows, he makes a recapitulation of all that has been said.

For having in many ways gone through the passions and set the divine benefactions before our sight, now, briefly gathering them together again, he recapitulates his account, in the words where he says, "They were made few, and were afflicted through the oppression of evils and pain" — signifying by the word "few" the brevity, that is, the contraction that came about from height and greatness down into lowliness;

for the word "few" signifies, according to its sense, that which is most brief.

And by "affliction" he means the affinity with evil, while by "oppression" and "pain" he everywhere means the end result of the falling-away from good things — as in another psalm he sets forth the very same thing, saying:

"The pangs of death encompassed me."

Having called sins "the pangs of death" and "the perils of Hades," he then introduces the end in which the nature of sin terminates;

which is nothing other than affliction and pain — just as the Gospel signifies this same reality through "weeping and gnashing of teeth."

Then he adds, in due sequence, the words, "And contempt was poured out upon their rulers."

But if anything has fallen away from being, it is not even in being at all.

For to be in evil is not properly to be, because evil itself, in and of itself, does not exist, but the non-existence of the good becomes evil.

Just as, then, he who is in being exists in being, so he who has come to be in nothing (and this is evil) is "brought to nought," as the text names it.

And this usage of the word has become, as it were, a familiar expression in common speech —

just as we say [wine] is diluted [with water], and we say that iron is set aflame in the fire, so too we say that one who has fallen from being, having come to be in nothing, is "brought to nought."

Therefore, "being brought to nought" is non-existence in what is good.

And this, having come upon those who first began evil — that is, upon the first human beings — was, like some wicked stream, poured out also upon the succession of those who came after.

Since, then, our nature became impoverished of such a possession — I mean, of life — and man became poor through the thief, having been robbed of the divine blessing, for this reason he says, "He helped the poor man out of his poverty."

For by that one's poverty we were made rich.

And the Good Shepherd made them, instead of wild beasts, sheep of a family;

and by "family" he means the assembly of those who contribute to the divine register,

just as the apostle also says, "From whom every family in heaven and on earth is named."

"The upright shall see and shall fear" — teaching, by these words, that the upright, beholding this loving-kindness of God, ought to fear;

for fear proves no small safeguard of good things, sobering, through the memory of what has happened before, the one who has fallen into passion, for what lies ahead.

And when this fear prevails and banishes all the ease toward evil that arises from slackness, "all iniquity," he says, "shall stop its own mouth."

How blessed is that life, in which the mouth of iniquity, like some spring of filth, shall be stopped up forever, no longer polluting the life of men with its stench!

This is the summit of good things, the sum of hopes, the culmination of all blessedness: that our nature is no longer troubled by evil, but that all iniquity is removed.

And this would be the inventor of iniquity.

For this is what the all-encompassing expression signifies: that mouth is to be stopped, whose voice, from the beginning, became for mankind the very substance of death.

When, therefore, everything opposed to the good has been removed, that condition will receive us of which no word will be found to be its herald — a condition which the divine voice has testified to be beyond both sense-perception and knowledge.

To these he adds, like some seal, the concluding words, saying, "Who is wise, and will keep these things?"

"And they shall understand the mercies of the Lord?" For since the activity of wisdom is twofold — the one being investigative and inquiring into what is beneficial, the other being the preserving of what has been found — he means that, at that time, the one work of wisdom, I mean the inquiring work, is meant to have ceased.

For to what end shall we still make use of inquiry, when the thing sought is present? But one task alone remains to be done—that the good thing procured may be guarded, wisdom cooperating with us toward this.

But what is this wisdom, and what is the guarding of good things? It is not to be senseless with regard to the divine loving-kindness.

For one who understands what he has obtained would not cast away the good thing of which he has been deemed worthy.

But he who is senseless with regard to grace will suffer the same as the blind, who, taking into their hands a pearl or an emerald or one of the precious stones, throw it away as some worthless pebble, being unwillingly deprived of their possession through ignorance of its beauty.

CHAPTER 9. Now these five divisions of the Psalms, by means of which—having understood them as certain steps rising one above the other in a certain sequential order—we discerned from the signs already mentioned that the final utterance of each section has a certain resting-point of discourse and a foundation of thought, encompassing within itself the completion of what has been accomplished, through the doxological and thankful utterance that says, 'Blessed be the Lord forever; so be it, so be it.'

For the sense of these words is a certain thanksgiving that continues without ceasing;

since the text, in saying 'so be it,' did not stop the blessing with a single utterance, but by the twofold repetition of the word establishes, in the thanksgiving, its everlastingness.

The text has contemplated in each [division] some particular good, through which blessedness comes to us from God, according to a certain consequent order of the goods observed in each, always translating the soul toward what is higher, until it arrives at the very summit of the goods.

This is the praise of God fulfilled in all the saints, as the last Psalm contains, saying: 'Praise God in his saints,' where 'the firmament of his power' signifies the unshakeable state that comes from the Good, and 'the mighty acts of God' intimate that human nature is no longer dominated by evil, when henceforth human power becomes able to render praise 'according to the abundance of his greatness,' no longer uttering it in small measure, but already surpassing the trumpets in loudness of voice.

For it says, 'Praise the Lord with the sound of the trumpet,' at which time the soul also imitates the harmony of the universe by the variegated and manifold character of the virtues, becoming for God an instrument in the rhythm of melody.

And the text names this, by a certain figurative signification, 'psaltery' and 'harp';

after which, having laid aside everything earthy and mute and voiceless, the soul, in the loud sound of tambourines, joins the sound of its own strings to the heavenly choirs.

And the strings stretched upon the instrument would be that which, in each virtue, is unyielding and unrelaxed toward evil.

Through these comes about the beautiful concord, the cymbal being mingled with the strings, when the sound of the cymbals rouses eagerness toward the divine choral array.

which seems to me to interpret the conjunction of our nature with the angels, in the verse which says: 'Praise the Lord with well-sounding cymbals.'

For such a meeting—I mean, of the angelic with the human—when human nature is restored to its ancient lot, will bring to completion, through their mutual encounter, that sweet sound of thanksgiving;

and, through one another and with one another, it will forever hymn the thanksgiving rendered to God for his loving-kindness.

For this is what the meeting of cymbal with cymbal indicates;

one cymbal is the supramundane nature of the angels;

the other cymbal is the rational creation of mankind.

But sin has separated the one from the other;

When, therefore, the loving-kindness of God again joins the two together, then the two, having become one with one another, will sound out that praise, as the great apostle also says: that every tongue, of things in heaven and on earth and under the earth, shall confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.

And when this comes to pass, the sound of these cymbals will shout aloud a song of victory, arising through their common harmony over the destruction of the enemy.

And when this enemy has been utterly destroyed and has come round to nonexistence, the praise offered to God will forever, unceasingly, and with equal honor be fulfilled in every breath.

For since 'praise is not comely in the mouth of a sinner,' and at that time there will be no sinner, since sin will no longer exist, every breath will praise the Lord throughout all the age.

Such, then, is the way toward blessedness that has been shown to us by this great philosophy contained in the Psalms, ever urging on, toward the greater and higher stage of the journey toward virtue, those who are guided through these teachings toward the heights, until one arrives at that measure of blessedness beyond which the mind is not able, by any conjectures or surmises, to reckon further, nor does reason discover, by logical sequence, what comes next.

But even the movement of hope, which everywhere leaps ahead of our desire and runs before it, when it draws near to things beyond all imagining, remains inactive; and that which is beyond this is greater than can be hoped for—as this very philosophy contained in the Psalter also testifies, through the order that has been observed, having in the first of its words opened for us, as it were a certain door and entrance to the blessed life, namely withdrawal from evil.

For this is what the first words of the Psalter teach, calling estrangement from evil the beginning of blessedness.

Having shown the way, it leads, through the successive ascents, the one who follows this guidance toward the very summit of blessedness.

For this is what the sense of the last Psalm shows you, in which, after the complete destruction of evil, all things that exist will be holy, and all will join in concord toward the praise of God, having equally received, in the firmness of their power, immutability toward evil, and raising up, together with his greatness, an auspicious sound, as with a certain loud-voiced trumpet.

when all creation, both the things above and all the things below, is fitted together into one choral array, and, in the manner of a cymbal, the intelligible creation and that which is now, through sin, divided and separated, shall together produce the good sound from our concord.

When our nature runs together with the angelic, and the divine array, having recovered itself from confusion, shouts aloud the song of victory to the trophy-bearer over the slaughter of the enemies, then comes to be the praise of every breath, extending the grace forever, and increasing through growth unto that continuous blessedness—I mean, that truly blessed state;

in which state the conjectural mind concerning knowledge becomes inactive, and our faculty of hoping also becomes inactive, and there succeeds instead that ineffable and incomprehensible condition, surpassing all thought, 'which neither eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor has entered into the human heart.'

For thus the divine apostle defined the good things laid up in sanctification.

BOOK II, CHAPTER 1. Now that these matters have thus been made clear to us, it would be time to examine also the discourse concerning the inscriptions.

For these also contribute no small help to us for the way of virtue, as one may learn from the very sense of what has been inscribed.

But it would be necessary first, before the contemplation of the Psalms themselves, to make, in a few words, a certain methodical approach to the inscriptions, so that it might become especially clear to us, through these as well, that the whole aim of this divinely-inspired teaching is to lead up the mind to that which is truly blessed.

Now, of the Psalms, some are altogether without inscription;

others, which among us have the inscription of the prophet, do not have it among the Hebrews;

for others, the inscription comes about through a certain conjoining of these names or of these words being written together with one another;

again, in the case of others, certain further words are inscribed along with these, with the phrase 'unto the end' generally placed first, while various and different words are written together with this phrase;

for it inscribes either 'for those things that shall be changed,' or 'for the hidden things,' or 'for her that inherits,' or 'for the eighth,' or 'for the winepresses,' or 'for the help at dawn,' or 'for Maeleth,' or 'for the people who are removed far from the holy things,' or 'destroy not,' or 'for an inscription on a pillar,' or even both of these together, or 'for Solomon,' or 'a song for the beloved,' or 'for the hidden things of the son,' or 'for confession,' or some circumstance drawn from history;

For some of the Psalms, the inscription is the Hebrew word 'Alleluia,' inscribed either twice, the same word repeated, or once; and in the case of others, it is written together, in conjunction with this same inscription, with the names of certain prophets—for example, 'Alleluia of Haggai and Zechariah,' and 'Alleluia of Jeremiah and Ezekiel.'

And again, there is another kind of inscription;

either 'for the sons of Korah,' or 'for Jeduthun,' or 'for Asaph';

and one, by way of special distinction, is inscribed: 'A prayer of Moses, the man of God.'

Now, as for those Psalms which, according to the ecclesiastical text, have the inscriptions they contain, but among the Hebrews are without inscription, we have found this difference:

for in some of them, a certain number of the days of the week is signified together with the Psalm, either 'the first of the sabbaths,' or 'the fourth of the sabbaths,' or 'for the day of the sabbath,' or 'before the sabbath';

while others have some different sense of inscription which is altogether passed over in silence among the Hebrews.

Now that this division among the inscriptions has been made clear to us, it would be useful first to give a more general interpretation of those inscriptions that are alike;

and then thus, in due sequence, to carry the examination forward to the differences that appear.

In general, then, the discourse of the inscription has a twofold purpose:

for it is either inscribed beforehand to indicate the subject-matter, so that we, having been instructed in advance about the aim of the psalm-composition, might become more apt to learn the sense contained in its words;

or, often, the inscription of itself also teaches something to the hearing, indicating, by the sense inherent in the words of the title, some particular accomplishment in virtue;

or rather, in each of the two forms of contemplation of the inscriptions, the purpose is one: to lead toward some one of the good things, whether some historical matter seems to be indicated through what has been said, or whether it happens to be a mere name that has been inscribed.

For divine Scripture does not employ histories for this reason alone, that a knowledge of facts might arise in us, by which we learn certain deeds and experiences of men of old, but rather so that it might show us some teaching toward a life according to virtue, the historical contemplation being transposed toward the higher sense.

This, then, having been agreed upon by us—that we must hold such a conception concerning the inscriptions—it would follow, as we said before, that we should first set forth a more general sense of those inscriptions that are alike, and then make a more particular examination of those that are set forth with some difference.

Since, then, the phrase 'unto the end' is inscribed upon the majority of the Psalms, I think we ought to know, concerning this, what the sense of the others who have translated this same Scripture makes clear.

For one translator, instead of 'unto the end,' says 'to the victor'; another, 'a song of victory'; and another, 'unto victory.'

Since, then, victory is the end of every contest, and it is with an eye to this that those who strip for the contests take up the exertion of competing, it seems to me that, through the word 'end,' the text, by this brief word, rouses to eagerness those who contend through the virtues in the stadium of life, so that, looking to the end—which is victory—they might lighten, by the hope of the crowns, the toil in their contests.

which indeed we see happening even now in athletic contests.

For the crown, being displayed beforehand to those who grapple with one another in the stadiums, strengthens all the more their zeal for victory, the toils that come upon them through the struggle being, as it were, stolen away by the glory that is hoped for.

For evil is that which, in many and varied ways, contends by deceitful wrestling-holds against those who wrestle against it; and for this reason the good trainer of souls displays to you in advance the end of your labors, the adornment that comes from the crowns, and the herald's proclamation upon your victory;

so that, looking toward that end, you might steady yourself upon him who makes you victorious, and prepare for yourself the proclamation of victory.

Now whatever thoughts concerning the teaching toward virtue lie, in consequence, beneath these words, would surely be evident to those who, through this starting-point, look on to what follows in due sequence.

For it is clear that as many as are the passions of the soul, just so many are the holds and wrestling-throws of the enemies that come to be against us, through which reasoning, like some limb of the soul, is often dislocated and put out of joint—unless someone, prepared through practice, secures for himself, in such contests, that which is safe and unfailing, through lawful contending, as the apostle says, thereby winning for himself the victory, which is the end of the contests;

Now the words inscribed alongside the phrase 'unto the end' are certain precepts and counsels toward victory, by means of which the object of one's earnest endeavor might be achieved.

For the phrase 'of those things that shall be changed' suggests the transformation of the soul toward the better;

and the interpretation of 'Maeleth' rouses the athlete to greater eagerness, signifying the choral array that awaits us after the completion of our toils;

for this word has thus been clarified by the others, interpreting 'Maeleth' by means of 'choral dance.'

And all such things one would find, upon careful examination, to be certain athletic exhortations made by the trainer to the athletes, so that one might attain the goal of victory.

Likewise too, if any historical matter is inscribed together with the phrase "To the end," it looks to this very same purpose, so that through historical examples we might be the more strengthened for the contests.

This, then, is the sense of "To the end."

CHAPTER 3. Now psalm, ode, praise, hymn, and prayer have the following difference from one another:

For a psalm is the melody produced through a musical instrument, while an ode is the utterance of the melody made through the mouth together with words; prayer is a supplication brought to God concerning something advantageous; a hymn is the fair speech offered to God for the good things that exist for us; and praise, or laudation (for the meaning is the same in both), contains the commendation of the divine wonders.

For commendation is nothing other than an intensification of praise.

Often, however, these are interwoven with one another in the titles by a certain conjunction, so that the two become one through the interweaving.

For it is either "a psalm of an ode" or "an ode of a psalm," or "a psalm among hymns," or, as we have learned in Habakkuk, also "a prayer with an ode."

The sense according to which we are guided toward virtue by these titles is as follows:

The psaltery is a musical instrument that produces its sound from the upper parts of its construction, and the playing of such an instrument is called a psalm.

Therefore, from the very shape of its construction, the exhortation toward virtue has its emphasis.

For it charges that your life should be a psalm, not resounding with earthly notes—

and by "notes" I mean thoughts—

but rather producing a sound that is pure and clearly audible, arising from things above and heavenly.

Hearing this, we learn by way of a riddle the propriety that pertains to the visible conduct of life.

For just as, from musical instruments, only the sound of the melody falls upon the hearing, while the words themselves that are being sung are not articulated by the notes—

whereas in the ode both come together, both the rhythm of the melody and the meaning of the words that proceeds along with the melody—a meaning which must necessarily go unknown whenever the melody is produced by musical instruments alone.

So too it happens in the case of those who pursue virtue.

For some, holding their mind fast to the contemplative and speculative philosophy of the things that are, achieve virtue in a manner unseen by the many, shutting the good up within their own conscience;

but those in whom the character of life is also, through diligence, brought to fulfillment together with it, publish the well-ordered rhythm of their own life through the propriety of their visible conduct, as though by a kind of word.

Whenever, then, the good is achieved through both together, moral philosophy running together with contemplative philosophy, there arises "an ode of a psalm" or "a psalm of an ode."

But when only one of these stands by itself as the subject of the praises, then either the good pertaining to the mind is signified through the psalm alone, or the character and the propriety of visible conduct is expressed through the ode.

But when a hymn or praise is mingled with the ode, it becomes a precept that we should not presume beforehand upon thoughts concerning God, until we have made our life worthy of such boldness of speech.

"For praise," it says, "is not seemly in the mouth of a sinner."

And God said to the sinner, "Why do you declare my ordinances?" Likewise too, prayer joined with an ode lays down for us the same requirement: that we should first be zealous concerning our life, so that one might not be found disordered and out of tune in one's pursuits, and only then approach God through prayer.

inasmuch as prayer is brought to fulfillment not in words but in life, as in the passage where it says, "If you forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you your sins."

But when praise is inscribed by itself, the meaning contains a certain testimony on the part of the one who dedicates the praises to God.

"A psalm among hymns" leads us up to a more exalted condition, one which the divine apostle also knew, as he says to the Corinthians that he sometimes sings psalms with the spirit, and sometimes with the mind.

Therefore, the psalmody that is mingled with the mind interprets the teaching set forth above, namely that the visible must be worthy of the hidden, so that the ode may correspond to such a meaning.

But the psalmody accomplished by the spirit alone points to the more excellent condition of the saints, when that which is offered to God is superior to what can be shown through visible display.

For the psalm is not, it says, among certain odes that articulate through words the meaning of what is being thought, but "the psalm is among hymns."

This is, in my judgment at least, a teaching as to what one ought to understand by "hymn."

For we learn that this—a lofty life, and setting one's mind on the things above, and having our instrument tuned by heavenly and transcendent thoughts—is a hymn of God, brought to fulfillment not in the power of words, but in a life of surpassing excellence;