詩篇講道 第 1 章 第 12/12 段

Let us, then, be subject to God, because salvation is from him.

And what salvation is, he explains:

It is not some mere activity, affording us a certain grace for release from weakness and for bodily well-being.

But what is salvation? 'For he himself is my God and my Savior, my helper; I shall not be moved any more.'

Our God is the Son who is of God.

The same is also the Savior of the human race, who sustains our weakness, who corrects the agitation that arises in our souls from trials.

'I shall not be moved any more';

in a human manner he confesses the agitation.

'Any more'—for it is impossible that some agitation from trials should not arise in a human soul.

So then, as long as we sin small and few sins, we are gently shaken, like plants stirred by a soft breeze;

but whenever the evils become more numerous and greater, in proportion to the increase of sins the agitation naturally intensifies as well.

And some are shaken more;

while others are overturned even to the point of being uprooted and cast down, whenever, more violently than any tempest, the spiritual forces of wickedness tear away the very roots, as it were, of the soul, by which it had been fixed in faith toward God.

'I, then,' he says, 'was shaken, as a man;'

'but I shall not be moved any more,' because I am upheld by the right hand of the Savior.

"How long will you set upon a man? You murder, all of you, as if against a leaning wall or a tottering fence?" Again the discourse contends against the wicked servants of the devil, accusing the excess of the plot they bring against him.

Because men are a weak creature;

but you attack, not content with the first assault;

but you bring on a second and a third attack as well, until you have so overthrown the soul of the one who has fallen into your hands that it becomes like a wall that has leaned over and a fence that has been overturned.

Now a wall, as long as it maintains its upright position, remains firm;

but once it has leaned, it is altogether necessary that, being loosened, it fall.

For unified masses, after leaning, can be set upright again; but those composed of many parts, once they have inclined to one side, no longer admit of being restored.

The discourse shows, then, that human nature, being composite, was made to lean by sin, and that it must altogether be dissolved;

"You are God's cultivated field," he says, "you are God's building."

This building the enemy has shaken down;

Thus the fall is necessary on account of sin, but the resurrection is great on account of immortality.

"Nevertheless, they took counsel to cast down my honor;"

"they ran in thirst; with their mouth they would bless, but in their heart they would curse."

The honor of man is the blood of Christ;

"For you were bought with a price," he says;

"do not become slaves of men."

This honor, then, the soldiers of the evil one have taken counsel to render useless to us, leading back into slavery those who had once been set free.

He speaks of the vehemence of the demons' plotting, that they run against us, thirsting for our destruction.

"With their mouth they would bless, but in their heart they would curse."

There are many who welcome wicked deeds, calling the buffoon charming, and the foul-mouthed man sociable;

they name the bitter and irascible man "not to be trifled with";

they praise the stingy and unsharing man as thrifty, the prodigal as generous, the fornicator and licentious man as some pleasure-loving and easy-going fellow;

and in short, they give every vice an endearing name drawn from the virtue that lies nearest to it.

Such people bless with their mouth, but curse in their heart.

For by the fair speech of their words they bring every curse upon the life of those they praise, making them liable to eternal condemnation through the very things they approve.

Again he converses with the soul, intensifying its submission toward God.

"Nevertheless, be subject to God, O my soul, for from him is my patience."

He indicates the greatness of the trials, and states the same thing the Apostle says;

that he will not allow us to be tried beyond what we are able to bear.

"For from him is my patience."

"In God is my salvation and my glory;"

"the God of my help, and my hope is in God."

Blessed is he who exults in none of the lofty things of this life, but has God as his own glory;

who has Christ as his own boast;

who is able to say, in the words of the Apostle;

"But God forbid that I should boast, except in the cross of Christ."

But now many glory in the body—those who have devoted their leisure to athletic contests, or in general those who are vigorous in the prime of life;

and many glory in valor in war, those who reckon the slaying of their own countrymen as virtue.

For prowess in wars, and the trophies raised up by a general and by cities, come about in proportion to the abundance of slaughter.

Others are glorified by surrounding cities with walls;

and others by the construction of aqueducts, and by the building of great gymnasia.

And so-and-so, squandering his wealth on beast-fighters, and exulting in the empty shouts of the crowds, is puffed up by their praises and thinks great things of himself, having his glory in his own shame;

he who indeed even has his own sin displayed in writing on tablets in the most conspicuous places of the city.

Another is glorified for his wealth;

and another, because he is some formidable and unanswerable orator, or is versed in worldly wisdom.

The glory of all these one ought to pity;

but one ought to call blessed those who make God their own glory.

For if so-and-so thinks great things of himself because he is a servant of the king, being greatly honored by him;

how much more fitting is it for you to be exalted in yourself, because you are a servant of the great King, called by him into the closest kinship, having received the Spirit of the promise, so that, being sealed in him, you might be shown forth as a son of God? And knowing in himself the benefit of genuine hope in God, he exhorts the people to the same zeal as his own, saying:

"Hope in him, all you assembly of the peoples; pour out your hearts before him."

It is impossible for us to become capable of receiving divine grace unless we first drive out from our souls the passions arising from vice that have already taken possession of them.

The dissolute have stored up within themselves a residue from their manner of living.

But also a vessel that has previously been occupied by some foul-smelling liquid, if it is not washed out, will by no means receive the inflow of perfume.

"Nevertheless, vain are the sons of men,"

He saw that not all follow his precept, nor accept to hope in God, but instead set their hope upon the vanities of life.

"Nevertheless, vain are the sons of men, false are the sons of men,"

Where above all is their falsehood exposed? "In the balances," he says, "so as to deal unjustly."

What balances does he mean? Surely not all men use scales, do they? Are all wool-merchants, or meat-sellers, or dealers in gold or silver, or in general engaged with those materials which merchants are accustomed to exchange by weights and scales? But great indeed is the class of craftsmen who need no scales at all for their work;

and many are those who go to sea;

and many are those occupied with lawcourts and with governing, among whom falsehood indeed exists, but deceit by means of scales is not practiced.

What, then, is he saying? That within each of us, hidden in secret, there is a certain balance, built into us by our Creator, by which it is possible to discern the true nature of things.

"I have set before your face life and death, good and evil;"

two natures opposed to one another;

weigh them against each other on your own inward tribunal;

weigh accurately which is more profitable for you: to choose fleeting pleasure, and through it to receive eternal death, or to choose the hardship found in the practice of virtue, and through this to obtain, as its procurer, eternal delight.

False, then, are men, having the judgments of their soul corrupted;

them also the Prophet pronounces wretched, saying:

"Woe to those who call darkness light, and light darkness;"

"who call the bitter sweet, and the sweet bitter."

But who knows the things to come? You weigh badly, choosing evil things instead of good, preferring vain things to true ones, setting temporary things before eternal ones, choosing passing pleasure instead of unceasing and continual joy.

The sons of men are false in the balances, so as to deal unjustly.

They wrong first of all themselves, and then also those near them—men who become evil counselors to themselves in their actions, and a wicked example to others.

You will not be able to say this on the day of judgment:

Your own scales are brought forward against you, providing sufficient discernment of good and evil.

For the weights of the body we test by the inclinations of the balance-scale, but the choicest things of life we discern by the self-determining power of the soul;

and this he also called a balance, because it is able to receive an equal inclination toward either side.

Trust not in unrighteousness, and set no vain hope on robbery;

Trust in him, all you assembly of peoples.

He saw the sluggishness of their obedience, and pronounced: "Surely the sons of men are vanity."

Again he forbids hoping in unrighteousness.

He who judges that wealth amassed from unrighteousness is a sufficient resource for himself to be strong and to prevail is like a sick man who reckons his good health by the increase of his disease.

This hinders you in every undertaking.

And set no vain hope on robbery.

He exhorts us not to be desirers of what belongs to others.

If riches increase, set not your heart upon them.

If you see one of those who are exceedingly rich, do not call his life blessed.

If money flows around you from many quarters and from unfailing sources, do not welcome its abundance.

The nature of wealth is fluid;

swifter than a torrent it runs past those who possess it;

it is its nature to pass from one person to another at different times.

Just as a river, borne down from a height, draws near to those standing on the bank, yet no sooner touches them than it withdraws again;

so its presence is slippery, being by nature such as to pass from one person to another.

Today the field belongs to this man, tomorrow to another, and shortly after to yet another.

Look at the houses in the city, and see how many names they have already taken on since they were built, being named at different times after different owners.

And gold, ever flowing through the hands of its possessor, passes over to another, and from him to yet another.

You could sooner grasp water in your hand and hold it fast, than keep wealth continually preserved for yourself.

Well then has it been said: "If riches increase, set not your heart upon them."

Do not become attached to it in your soul;

but accept what use may be had from it, not loving and admiring it excessively as though it were one of the true goods, but choosing its service merely as an instrument.

Then, to everything that has been said, he adds a pronouncement—no longer his own words, but one which he heard from God himself.

For, he says, God has spoken once; these two things I have heard.

And let no one be troubled, as though it were a paradox, by the statement of how God spoke once, yet the Prophet heard two things.

For a certain man, meeting someone once, discoursed about many things;

and the one who heard his words can say: "He addressed me once, but he spoke about many things."

This is what is meant here:

God's manifestation came to me once, but there are two things which he spoke.

God spoke one thing, but these two I heard;

for otherwise the statement would seem to contain some contradiction with itself.

What then were the two things he heard? That power belongs to God, and to you, Lord, belongs mercy.

That God, he says, is powerful in judgment, and the same God is merciful.

Therefore do not hope in unrighteousness, nor set your heart on riches, nor choose vanity, nor go about carrying a corrupted judgment of soul.

For not committing injustice, then, fear is good;

but for the one who has once slipped into sin, so that he not abandon himself through despair, the hope of mercy is good.

For power belongs to God, and from him also comes mercy.

For you will render to each according to his works.

For with the measure you measure, it will be measured back to you.

Have you oppressed your brother? Expect the same in return.

Have you plundered the possessions of your inferiors, struck the poor with your fists, shamed them with insults, brought false accusations, told lies, plotted against another's marriage, sworn falsely, moved the boundary-marks set by the fathers, encroached on the possessions of orphans, oppressed widows, preferred present pleasure to the good things promised? Expect the recompense of these in kind.

For whatever each one sows, that also shall he reap.

And indeed, if you have done any good deed, expect for these too a manifold recompense.

For you will render to each according to his works.

Keeping this pronouncement in mind throughout your whole life, you will be able to escape the greater part of your sins, in Christ Jesus our Lord, to whom be glory and dominion forever and ever.

Having occupied this sacred shrine of the Martyrs long ago, propitiating the God of the martyrs with hymns from the middle of the night, you have persevered until this midday, awaiting our arrival.

For you, then, who have preferred honoring the martyrs and the worship of God to sleep and rest, the reward is ready.

But if we too must offer a defense on our own behalf for our delay and our lengthy absence from you, we will state the reason: that in administering another church of God equal in honor to this one, separated from you by no small distance, we spent this portion of the day.

...of your love, render together with us thanksgiving to our Benefactor, who guides by his invisible power this visible weakness of our body.

So that we may not distress you by detaining you any longer, having spoken briefly on the psalm that was being sung to you from the point where we arrived, and having nourished your souls with the word of exhortation according to the power available to us, we will dismiss each one to the care of the body.

What then was being sung? "I have loved," he says, "because the Lord will hearken to the voice of my supplication."

It is not for everyone to say, "I have loved," but for one who is already being perfected and has passed beyond the fear of slavery, and has come to be in the Spirit of adoption.

Now the word "someone" is not attached to "I have loved";

but it is to be understood by us as supplying "the God of all."

For that which is properly the object of love is God;

since the object of love is defined as that toward which all things aim.

And God is the Good—both the first and the most perfect of goods.

I have loved God himself, then, who is the ultimate object of desire, and I have received with joy the sufferings endured for his sake.

What these are he goes on to relate a little later: the pangs of death, the perils of Hades, affliction, anguish—all of which were, for him, made lovable through his love for God, as also was the hope laid up for those who accept sufferings for the sake of piety.

For not against my will, he says, nor violently and under compulsion did I endure the contests, but with a certain affection and disposition did I welcome the toils;

For your sake we are put to death all the day long.

Because the Lord will hearken to the voice of my supplication.

For in this way each of us too is able to accomplish what is toilsome in the commandments, when he displays his own manner of life as though before God of all as his spectator.

For he inclined his ear to me.

"He inclined," it says—not that you should form some bodily notion of God as having ears, and inclining them toward the faintness of a voice, as we do toward those who speak softly;

bringing our hearing close, so that from proximity we may receive by perception what is being spoken. Rather, it says "he inclined" in order to display his own condescension in weakness,

because to me, lying on the ground, he stooped down out of loving-kindness—

just as when someone sick, from great weakness, is unable even to speak clearly, a loving physician, bringing his own hearing close, may learn from near at hand what the ailing person needs.

He inclined, then, his ear to me.

For divine hearing has no need of a voice for perception;

for he knows, discerning even in the movement of the heart the things being sought.

Or have you not heard that Moses, uttering nothing, but pleading with the Lord through his own unspoken groanings, was heard by the Lord, who said:

"Why do you cry out to me?" God knows how to hear even the blood of the righteous, which has no tongue, nor voice traversing the air.

But the presence of righteous deeds is a loud cry before God.

"And in my days I will call upon him."

We, having prayed for one day, or having grieved a little for our sins for one hour, become careless, as though we had already done something to match our wickedness.

The saint, however, says that he displays his confession measured out over the whole time of his life;

"For in all my days," he says, "I will call upon him."

Then, lest you should think that he called upon God only while prospering in this life, with all his affairs proceeding smoothly for him, he recounts the greatness of the circumstances in which, though beset, he did not forget the name of God.

"For the pangs of death encompassed me," he says, "the dangers of Hades found me."

These are set in order after the pangs of childbirth, when the womb, being roused toward its swelling, thrusts the embryo outward;

then the generative parts, being compressed and stretched taut around what is being carried, by spasms and contractions of the fibers produce the sharpest pangs and bitter pains for those in labor.

He has also transferred the word "pangs" to death, the pangs that beset the living being at the separation of soul and body.

He says, then, that he has suffered nothing moderate, but that he has even been tested to the point of the very pangs of death, and has come to the danger of descending into Hades.

Has he, then, suffered only these things for which he takes pride? Or are these often also involuntary sufferings? But nothing compelled is praiseworthy.

But observe the nobility of soul in this contestant.

For since "the pangs of death encompassed me, and the dangers of Hades found me," I was so far from succumbing to these trials that I even set myself, of my own accord, toward trials far more numerous than these.

"Affliction and sorrow I found"—as though I devised them for myself willingly; I was not overtaken by them involuntarily.

For in what precedes it says, "the dangers of Hades found me";

but here, "affliction and sorrow I found."

For since in the former case I was found unyielding toward the things brought upon me by the tempter, in order that I might show the abundance of my love toward God, I added affliction upon affliction, and sorrow upon sorrow;

not rising up against my pains by my own strength, but because I called upon the name of the Lord.

Such also is the saying of the Apostle, who says:

"In all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us."

For he who does not yield to the things imposed upon him by necessity is a conqueror;

but he is more than a conqueror who even of his own free choice draws sorrows upon himself, for the demonstration of endurance.

Let the one who has fallen into some sin unto death say:

"The pangs of death encompassed me."

For it is said, "Everyone who commits sin has been begotten of the devil."

"When, then," he says, "I was a worker of sin, and was being carried in the womb by death, then also I was found by the dangers of Hades."

How, then, did I heal myself? By finding the affliction and sorrow that comes through repentance.

For I devised for myself an affliction of repentance proportionate to the magnitude of my sin, and thus I dared to call upon the name of the Lord.

And what were the things I said? "O Lord, deliver my soul."

"I am held fast in this captivity; do you give the ransom on my behalf, and deliver my soul."

"The Lord is merciful and righteous."

Everywhere Scripture joins righteousness to the compassions of God, teaching us that neither is God's mercy without judgment, nor his judgment without mercy.

Rather, even in showing mercy, he metes out his compassion with judgment to those who are worthy of it;

and even in judging, he brings judgment with an eye to our weakness, requiting us more by loving-kindness than by an equal measure in return.

Mercy is an affection toward those who have been humbled beyond their desert, arising from those who are disposed with compassion.

We show mercy to one who has fallen from great wealth into extreme poverty, to one who has been cast down from the utmost vigor of body into the extremity of sickness, to one who once exulted in bodily beauty and youthful bloom, and has been ruined by the most shameful afflictions.

Since, then, we too were once glorious in our manner of life in paradise, but became inglorious and humbled through the fall, our God has mercy, seeing what we have become in place of what we were.

"Adam, where are you?" For the one who knows all things did not seek to be informed, but wished Adam himself to perceive what he had become in place of what he had been.

"Where are you?" is equivalent to: "Into what a fall have you descended, from so great a height?" "The Lord preserves the infants;"

"I was brought low, and he saved me."

Whether we take it according to the natural sense: human nature could never have been established, had not the very infants—indeed, still babes—been preserved by the Lord,

so as to be able to breathe, nor to live the life of human beings, but instead were borne about in the fluids like fish—unless they were sustained by the guardianship of God. And how, having fallen out into this unfamiliar place, chilled by the air after the warmth in the womb, could they have endured even a short while, unless they were preserved by God? "The Lord, therefore, preserves the infants;"

"I was brought low, and he saved me."

Or you may also understand the saying in this way:

That since I was turned, and became like an infant, and received the kingdom of heaven as a little child, and through guilelessness brought myself down to the humility of children;

the Lord who preserves the infants, since I was humbled, saved me.

"Return, my soul, to your rest, for the Lord has dealt bountifully with you."

The good contestant addresses words of consolation to himself, speaking in a manner like Paul, who says:

"I have fought the good fight, I have finished the course, I have kept the faith;"

"henceforth there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness."

These same things the Prophet also says to himself:

"Since you have sufficiently completed the long race of this life, return now to your rest, for the Lord has dealt bountifully with you."

For eternal rest is laid up for those who have lawfully contended in this life here—not given as a debt owed for works, but bestowed by grace of the bountiful God upon those who have hoped in him.

Then, before recounting the good things in that place, he recounts his escape from the troubles of the world, and for these he gives thanks to the liberator of souls, who delivers him from the manifold and inescapable bondage of the passions.

And what are these things? "For he has delivered my soul from death, my eyes from tears, and my feet from slipping."

By comparison with the things here, he sketches out the rest that is to come.

"For here," he says, "the pangs of death encompassed me;"

"but there he delivered my soul from death."

Here the eyes pour forth the tear that comes from affliction;

But there no longer is a tear darkening the pupils of those who rejoice in the contemplation of the beauty of the glory of God.

For God has wiped away every tear from every face.

Here the danger of slipping is great;

Let him who thinks he stands take heed lest he fall.

But there the foundations are firm;

there is no longer any danger of being carried away into sin.

For there is neither rebellion of the flesh, nor woman's cooperation toward sin,

This world is itself mortal, and a place of those who are dying.

For since the constitution of visible things is composite, and everything composite is by nature such as to be dissolved, we who are in the world, being parts of the world, necessarily share in the nature of the whole.

And let not what is said seem paradoxical to you, but consider the truth of the matter.

For in three weeks of years man is by nature subject to undergo three alterations and changes of ages and manners of life, and in each week there is a particular boundary marking off what has passed, and affording a clear transformation.

The age of the child is bounded, in the shedding of the teeth, within the first week of years.

The term of the child, in turn, who is fit for learning, extends until adolescence.

The adolescent, having reached completion up to the twenty-first year, when he begins to shade his cheeks with down, disappears imperceptibly, as the youth now passes over into manhood.

When, then, you see a man who has laid aside the increase of growth according to age, who is already settled in his reasoning, and who bears no trace of youth, will you not reckon that the things of the past have died in him? Again, the old man, transformed into another shape and disposition of soul, is manifestly other than those who came before.

The life of men is by nature accomplished through many deaths, not only in the change that comes with transitions of age, but also in the falls of souls into sin.

But where there is no alteration either of body or of soul (for there is neither deviation of reasoning, nor shifting of judgment, since no circumstance removes the stability and tranquility of the reasoning faculties), that is truly the region of the living, where they are always like unto themselves.

In this region the Prophet especially professes that he will be well-pleasing to the God of all things, since he will be interrupted by nothing from outside with respect to the aim of that true service, held in equal honor with the angels.

We make it our ambition, he says, whether at home in the body, or away from home from the body, to be well-pleasing to him.

That is the region of the living, in which there is no night, no sleep, the imitation of death;

in which there is no eating, no drinking, the props of our weakness; no sickness, no pains, no medicine, no courts of law, no commerce, no crafts, no money—the beginning of evils, the occasion of wars, the root of enmity;

but a region of the living, not of those dying through sin, but of those living the true life that is in Christ Jesus, to whom be glory and dominion unto the ages of ages.