詩篇註釋 第 14 章 第 1/2 段

'As the hart panteth after the fountains of waters.' And for what reason this psalm was brought into our life to be sung with a melody.

And concerning the long-suffering of God.

You indeed marvelled at us the other day, when we set in motion the discourse concerning Melchizedek, at the length of what was said;

but I for my part marvelled at you, for your eagerness and understanding in listening, and because, though the discourse ran on at greater length, you followed us attentively to the end;

and yet the discourse was not merely long, but also had much difficulty in it.

But neither the length nor the difficulty put your eagerness to shame.

Come then, let us render you a recompense for that labour, by making our discourse to you clearer today.

For neither ought one always to strain the mind of the hearers—for it is quickly broken—nor always to relax and let it slacken;

for from this too it becomes again the more sluggish.

Wherefore one ought to vary the manner of teaching, and now to lay hold of more festive discourses, now of more contentious ones.

As then I was saying at that time, that shepherds, when the wolves come upon the flock, lay aside the pipe and take the sling in hand;

so now, the Jewish feasts having passed by—those who are fiercer than all wolves—let us again lay aside the sling and return to the pipe;

and giving rest to the more contentious discourses, let us lay hold of certain other clearer ones, taking up the very harp of David, and bringing into the midst the response which we all sang together today.

What then is the response? 'As the hart panteth after the fountains of waters, so panteth my soul after Thee, O God.'

But rather it is necessary first to say for what reason this psalm has been brought into our life, and why above all this prophecy is spoken with a melody.

For what reason, then, is it said to be sung with a song? Listen.

God, seeing that many of mankind were rather slothful, and were ill-disposed toward the reading of spiritual things, and did not gladly endure the labour that comes from it, wishing to make the toil more desirable and to cut short the sense of weariness, mingled melody with prophecy, so that all, being charmed in soul by the rhythm of the tune, might with great eagerness send up to him the sacred hymns.

For nothing, nothing so uplifts the soul, and gives it wings, and frees it from the earth, and looses it from the bonds of the body, and makes it love wisdom, and laugh to scorn all the things of this life, as concordant melody and a divine song set to rhythm.

So naturally and intimately, indeed, is our nature disposed toward songs and melodies, that even infants at the breast, when they are crying and fretful, are thus lulled to sleep;

for the nurses, carrying them in their arms and often walking to and fro, and crooning over them certain childish songs, so lull their eyelids to sleep.

For this reason travellers too, often driving their beasts of burden along at midday, do the same by singing, soothing with those songs the hardship that comes from the journey.

And not travellers only, but husbandmen too, as they tread the winepress, and gather the grapes, and tend the vines, and do any other work whatever, often sing.

Sailors too, as they ply the oars, do this.

And women likewise, as they weave and disentangle with the shuttle the tangled threads of the warp, often each one by herself, and often all together in unison, sing some single melody.

Women, then, and travellers, and husbandmen, and sailors do this, striving by the song to soothe the toil that comes from their labours, since the soul, if it hears a tune and a song, is able more easily to bear all that is troublesome and wearisome.

Since, then, the soul is so intimately disposed toward this kind of delight, in order that the demons might not, by introducing lewd songs, overturn everything, God set up the psalms as a bulwark, so that the thing might be at once both pleasure and profit.

For from the songs of the outside world there come harm, and ruin, and many dreadful evils;

for the more licentious and lawless of these songs, entering into the parts of the soul, render it weaker and softer.

But from the spiritual psalms there comes great gain, and much profit, and much sanctification, and they may become a foundation for all wisdom, since the words cleanse the soul, and the Holy Spirit swiftly alights upon the soul that sings such things.

For that those who sing with understanding call down upon themselves the grace of the Spirit, hear what Paul says:

Be not drunk with wine, wherein is dissoluteness, but be filled with the Spirit.

And he went on to add also the manner of the filling:

Singing and making melody in your hearts to the Lord.

What does 'in your hearts' mean? With understanding, he says;

that the mouth may not merely utter the words while the mind wanders about outside, straying everywhere, but that the soul may hear the tongue.

And just as where there is mire, swine run to it;

but where there are perfumes and incense, bees make their dwelling;

so where there are lewd songs, demons throng together;

but where there are spiritual melodies, the grace of the Spirit alights, and sanctifies both the mouth and the soul.

These things I say, not that you may only praise, but that you may also teach your children and wives to sing such songs, not only at the loom, nor in your other tasks, but most of all at the table.

For since the devil for the most part lies in wait at banquets, having drunkenness and gluttony as his allies, and disorderly laughter, and a soul let loose, then above all, both before the meal and after the meal, one must set up against him the safeguard that comes from the psalms, and, rising up in common with wife and children from the banquet, sing sacred hymns to God.

For if Paul, with unbearable stripes laid upon him, and fastened to the stocks, and dwelling in a prison, in the middle of the night, when sleep is sweetest and comes upon all men, together with Silas continued to hymn God, and neither by the place, nor by the hour, nor by his cares, nor by the tyranny of sleep, nor by the anguish of those pains, nor by anything else whatever was he compelled to relax from the melody;

much more ought we, who rejoice and enjoy the good things of God, to send up to him hymns of thanksgiving, so that if anything unseemly should arise in our soul from drunkenness and gluttony, all of it may leap away when the singing of psalms comes in;

those unseemly and wicked designs.

And just as many of the rich, having filled a sponge with balsam, wipe down their tables therewith, so that if any stain should come from the foods, it may be swept away and show the table clean;

so let us also do, filling our mouth, instead of balsam, with spiritual melody, so that if any stain has come upon the soul from gluttony, we may wipe it clean away by that melody, and say, standing up together:

You have made us glad, O Lord, in your work, and in the works of your hands we will rejoice.

And let a prayer be added after the singing of the psalms, so that together with the soul we may sanctify the house itself.

For just as those who bring mimes, and dancers, and harlot women into their banquets call demons and the devil in thither, and fill their own houses with countless conflicts—for from this at least come jealousies and adulteries and fornications and countless dreadful things;

so those who invite David in with his harp, through him invite Christ within.

And where Christ is, no demon would ever dare to enter in—nay, rather, not even to peep inside;

but peace, and love, and all good things will come as if from fountains.

Those men make their house a theatre;

but you, make your chamber a church.

For where there is a psalm, and prayer, and the choir of the prophets, and the God-loving disposition of those who sing, no one would err in calling this assembly a church.

Even if you do not know the power of the words, at least for the present train your mouth to utter the words.

For the tongue also is sanctified by the words, when they are spoken with eagerness.

If we establish ourselves in this habit, we shall never, neither willingly nor through slothfulness, forsake this noble service, since custom compels us, even against our will, to perform this noble worship day by day.

In this kind of melody, though a man be aged, though young, though hoarse of voice, though wholly unskilled in any rhythm, no fault is found.

For what is sought here is a sober soul, a wakeful mind, a heart pierced with compunction, a steadfast reasoning, a conscience thoroughly cleansed.

If you enter the holy choir of God possessing these things, you shall be able to stand beside David himself.

Here there is no need of a harp, nor of stretched strings, nor of a plectrum and skill, nor of any instruments;

but if you will, you yourself shall become a harp, by putting to death the members of the flesh, and by making a great harmony between the body and the soul.

For when the flesh does not lust against the spirit, but yields to its commands, and is led onward to the best and wondrous way, then you shall work a spiritual melody.

There is no need here of an art perfected over long time, but only of a noble resolve, and we shall receive the skill in a brief moment of time.

There is no need of a place, no need of a time, but in every place and at every season it is possible to sing psalms in the mind.

For whether you are walking in the marketplace, whether you are on the road, whether you are sitting among friends, it is possible to rouse the soul, it is possible while keeping silence to cry aloud.

Thus also Moses cried out, and God heard him.

Even if you are a craftsman, sitting in your workshop and working, you shall be able to sing psalms.

Even if you are a soldier, attending at the tribunal, you shall be able to do this very thing.

It is possible to sing psalms even without the voice, while the mind sounds within.

For we sing psalms not to men, but to God, who is able both to hear the heart and to enter into the hidden things of our mind.

And Paul, making this plain, cries out, saying:

The Spirit itself intercedes for us with groanings that cannot be uttered.

And he who searches the hearts knew what is the mind of the Spirit, because it intercedes for the saints according to God.

But he said this, not because the Spirit was groaning, but because the spiritual men

those who have the gifts of the Spirit, praying on behalf of their neighbours, and offering up their supplications, did this with compunction and groanings.

Let us also do this, and day by day let us intercede with God through both psalms and prayers.

But that we may not merely offer the words, but may know the very power of the sayings, come, let us bring the very prelude of the psalm into our midst.

What then is the prelude? As the deer longs for the springs of waters, so my soul longs for you, O God.

Such is the custom of those who love, not to keep their love in silence, but to bring it forth to their neighbours, and to say that they love.

For love is by nature something ardent, and the soul could not endure to cover it over in silence.

For this reason Paul also said to the Corinthians, loving them:

Our mouth is open unto you, O Corinthians;

that is to say, I cannot conceal and keep my love in silence, but I carry you about continually, and everywhere, both in my mind and on my tongue.

So too this blessed man, loving God and burning in his love, cannot endure to be silent, but at one time says:

As the deer longs for the springs of waters, so my soul longs for you, O God;

O God, my God, early will I seek you.

My soul thirsted for you, as a land untrodden and waterless and desolate.

For so another of the translators rendered it.

For since he is unable to set forth his love in words, he goes about seeking an example, so that even in this way he may display to us his affection, and make us partakers of his love.

Let us therefore be persuaded by him, and let us learn to love in this manner.

And how can I love God whom I do not see? Indeed, we love many whom we do not behold, such as friends who are away in a foreign land, or children and fathers, or kinsmen and members of our household;

and no hindrance arises from not seeing them, but this very thing above all kindles the affection and increases the longing.

For this reason Paul also, speaking of Moses, says that having left behind treasures, and wealth, and the splendour of royalty, and all the rest of the magnificence that was in Egypt, he chose rather to be ill-treated together with the Jews;

Then, teaching us the reason—namely, that he did all these things for the sake of God—he added:

For he endured as seeing him who is invisible.

You do not see God, but you see his creatures; you see his works—heaven, and earth, and sea.

But one who loves, even if he sees only some belonging of the beloved—whether a sandal, or a garment, or anything else whatever—is inflamed with warmth.

You do not see God, but you see his household servants, his friends, his saints—I mean men who possess boldness before him.

Serve those now, and you will obtain no ordinary consolation for your longing.

For even in the case of human beings, we are accustomed to love not only our friends, but also those who are loved by them.

And if one of those we love should say, 'I love so-and-so,' then, should that person receive some kindness, I reckon that I myself enjoy the benefit.

We do everything and take every pains, just as though we beheld the beloved himself, to display all our eagerness toward that other person.

It is possible to accomplish this same thing now also in the case of Christ.

He has said, 'I love the poor.'

And if these receive some good, then, as though I myself had enjoyed it, so do I render the recompense.

Let us do everything for the sake of ministering to them;

or rather, let us pour out all our possessions upon them, believing that through these we are feeding God himself.

For that he himself is fed when these are fed, hear what Christ says:

'For you saw me hungry,' he says, 'and you fed me.'

And he has given us many occasions for consoling this longing of ours.

In other respects, three things are wont to produce love among us: either beauty of body, or greatness of benefaction, or being loved by the other.

For each of these, of itself and by itself, is able to engender in us a love-charm.

For even if we have received no good from someone, yet if we hear that he continually loves us, praising us

and admiring us, we are at once cemented to him, and cherish him as a benefactor.

But in the case of God, not these things only, but all three of these are to be seen in such excess as no words could ever set forth.

And first, the beauty of that blessed and incorruptible nature, that it is somehow so unattainable and unassailable, surpassing all speech and eluding every thought.

But when you hear of beauty, suspect nothing bodily, beloved, but an incorporeal glory and an unutterable magnificence.

This, then, is what the prophet was declaring when he said:

'And the seraphim stood round about him, and with two wings they covered the face, and with two they covered the feet, and with two they did fly, and they cried, Holy, holy, holy'—out of astonishment, out of wonder, out of that comeliness, out of the glory.

And again David, contemplating this very beauty and struck with astonishment at the glory of that blessed nature, said:

'Gird your sword upon your thigh, O mighty one, in your comeliness and in your beauty.'

For this reason Moses also often desired to see him, being wounded by this love-charm and enamored of that glory.

For this reason Philip also said:

'Show us the Father, and it is enough for us.'

Rather, however much we may say, we shall be able to set forth not even a small or faint trace of that comeliness.

But do you wish that we recount his benefactions? Yet not even these will words be able to set forth.

For this reason Paul said:

'Thanks be to the Lord for his indescribable gift.'

'Things which eye has not seen, and ear has not heard, and which have not entered into the heart of man, the things which God has prepared for those who love him.'

'O the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and of the knowledge of God!'

'How unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways past finding out!'

But the love which he displayed toward us—what words shall set it forth? This, at any rate, is what John, struck with astonishment, was declaring when he said:

'For God so loved the world that he gave his only-begotten Son.'

But if you wish also to hear His own words, and to learn the depth of His longing, listen to what He says through the prophet:

Can a woman forget to have compassion on the offspring of her womb? And even if a woman should forget these, yet will I not forget you.

And just as this one used to say:

As the deer pants after the springs of water, so my soul pants after You, O God;

As a bird gathers together her own nestlings, so did I long to gather your children, and you would not.

And again: As a father has compassion on his sons, so the Lord has had compassion on those who fear Him;

and again: For as the height of heaven is above the earth, so has the Lord made mighty His mercy toward those who fear Him.

And just as the prophet seeks out an illustration in order to display his own longing,

so also God makes use of certain illustrations, in order to show us the love that He bears toward our salvation.

And the prophet spoke of a thirsting deer, and of a parched, burnt-up land;

but God spoke of the tender affection of birds toward their nestlings, and the watchful care of fathers, and the height of heaven above the earth, and the deep compassion of mothers—not because He loves us only as much as a mother loves her child, but because among these limits and rules and illustrations there are with us no other, greater proofs of love.

Since He loves us not merely as much as a tenderly affectionate mother loves her little ones, but far more, listen to what He says:

For even if a woman should forget her offspring, He says, yet will I not forget you.

And He said this to show that His longing for us is warmer than every tender affection.

Gathering all these things together, reckon them up within yourself, and you will make your love fervent, and you will kindle a bright flame.

Since, then, even among us human beings, nothing so

is wont to kindle love as the remembering of the benefits which we have enjoyed;

let us do this also in the case of God.

Let us reckon up how many things He made for our sake: heaven itself, the earth, the sea, the air, the plants that are in the earth, and the manifold flowers, and the beasts, and the creeping things, the things in the sea, the things in the midst of the air, the stars in heaven, the sun, the moon, quite simply all the things that are seen, the lightnings, the good order of the seasons, the succession of day and night, the yearly turnings.

He breathed a soul into us, He bestowed reason as a gift, He honored us with the greatest dominion.

He sent angels, He sent prophets, and afterward His only-begotten Son.

And after those things, again He also entreats, both through Himself and through His only-begotten Child, that you may be saved;

and Paul does not cease to act as ambassador, saying: As though God did beseech you through us, we implore you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God.

And He did not stop even here, but taking as it were the first-fruits of your own nature, He seated it on high above all rule and authority and power, and every name that is named, not only in this age, but also in the age to come.

Truly it is now the fitting time to say:

Who shall tell of the mighty acts of the Lord, and make all His praises to be heard? And that other saying again:

What shall I render to the Lord for all the things which He has rendered to me? For what could be equal to this honor, save when the first-fruits of our race—which had so grievously offended, which had been dishonored—sits enthroned in such height, and enjoys such great honor? And reckon up not only the common benefits, but also the private ones—for instance, if ever, having fallen into a false accusation, you were delivered from the charge;

if ever, at an untimely hour and at midnight, having fallen among robbers, you escaped their treacherous plots;

if ever you shook off a loss that had been brought upon you;

if, having fallen into a grievous sickness, you obtained relief.

Reckon up all the benefits of God that occur throughout your whole life, and you will surely find many—not throughout your whole life only, but even in a single day;

and if God were willing to set forth into the midst all the daily benefits with which He benefits us while we are ignorant and unaware, we should not even be able to number them.

How many demons are borne through this air? How many opposing powers? If He had only permitted them to show that terrible and joyless aspect of theirs, should we not have been beside ourselves? Should we not have perished? Should we not have been utterly destroyed? Reckoning up all these things, then, and our own sins as well—how many we transgress willingly, how many in ignorance—for this too is no small matter in the account of benefit, that God does not day by day proceed against our offenses—we shall be able to love God.

For when you consider how many things you sin each day, how many benefits you receive each day, how great a long-suffering you enjoy, how great a forbearance, and that if God were to proceed against you each day, you would not live even a brief span of time—according to the Prophet who says:

If You, Lord, should mark iniquities, O Lord, who shall stand?

you will know thanks toward Him, and you will be vexed at nothing of the things that befall you;

but you will see that even if you suffer ten thousand things, you have not yet paid the penalty you deserve; and being so disposed, you will kindle a great longing, and you will be able to say, according to the prophet:

As the deer pants after the springs of water, so my soul pants after You, O God.

But it is worthwhile to examine why in the world he brought this animal forward into the midst.

The deer is somehow a thirsty creature, and for this reason it runs continually to the springs of water.

It becomes thirsty both by its nature and from devouring serpents and being nourished by their bodies.

Do you also, therefore, do this same thing;

devour the spiritual serpent;

grind sin to the ground, and you will be able to thirst after the longing for God.

For just as an evil conscience renders us defiled, and drives us into...

so, if we grind our sins to the ground, if we purge away our wickedness, we shall be able to look clearly toward the spiritual longing, and with much eagerness to call upon God, and to kindle our love the more ardently, and to render this obedience in song not by words alone, but also through the very deeds themselves.

For it was for this reason that that blessed man—or rather the grace of the Spirit—sang the psalms to us: not that we should merely utter the words, but that through the very deeds themselves we should meditate upon them.

Do not, then, suppose that you enter here for this purpose only—to utter the words—but rather that, whenever you sing, you should regard your obedience as a covenant.

For whenever you say, «As the hart panteth after the springs of the waters, so panteth my soul after thee, O God,»

you have made a covenant with God, you have written a bond without paper and ink; by your voice you have confessed to love Him above all things, and to prefer nothing before Him, and to be aflame with love for Him.

If then, when you go out, you see some beautiful and wanton woman enticing you and calling you to love of herself, say to her:

«I cannot follow you; I have made a covenant with God, in the presence of the brethren, of the priests, of the teachers; I confessed and promised, through my obedience, to love Him thus, ‹as the hart panteth after the springs of the waters.›»

I fear to transgress the covenant; henceforth I meditate upon love for Him.

If you see silver lying in the marketplace, or golden garments, or others swaggering about, keeping servants and horses with golden bridles, be in no way affected by that display, but again chant to yourself and say to your own soul:

«A little while ago we sang, ‹As the hart panteth after the springs of the waters, so panteth my soul after thee, O God.›

and we made the words our own, and made them to be ours.

Let us then love none of these worldly things, so that that love may remain in us undiluted, and may not, being divided, become weaker.

This wealth will be able to bestow upon us all wealth, all treasure, all good repute, all glory, all splendor.

Let us hold fast to this, and we shall have need of nothing else.

For if those who love this shameful love, and are often inflamed with passion for some beautiful girl, do not turn back even when fathers threaten and friends reproach and many others slander them, but are wholly bent toward her, and despise their house, and their paternal inheritance, and glory, and reputation, and the counsel of friends—reckoning it a great consolation for all these things if only they stand in good favor with their beloved alone, even though she be lowly, even though dishonored, even though whatever she may be—

how much more shall those who love God as they ought take any notice of things human, whether splendid or grievous? Nay, they will not even see the illusions of this present life, being stretched out toward that love, but will laugh at all prosperity and look down upon all adversity, being bound to the longing for God, and beholding nothing else but Him alone, and imagining Him everywhere, and reckoning themselves more blessed than all.

Even if they be in poverty, in dishonor, in bonds, in afflictions, in the utmost of evils, they will count themselves better off than those who reign; having in all that they suffer a marvelous consolation—namely, to suffer these things for the sake of the One they long for.

For this reason Paul also, though in daily deaths, in prisons, in shipwrecks, in deserts, in scourgings, in ten thousand other torments, rejoiced and exulted, and leaped for joy and boasted;

and at one time he said, «And not only so, but we glory also in tribulations, not merely in hope of the glory of God»;

and at another time again, «I rejoice in my sufferings»,

«and fill up in my flesh that which is lacking of the afflictions of Christ»;

and he calls the matter a grace, confessing it thus and saying, «For unto us it was thus given as a grace by Christ, not only to believe on Him, but also to suffer for His sake.»

Let us, therefore, be zealous to have such a mind also, and let us bear with pleasure all the griefs that befall us.

And we shall be able to bear them, if we love God as the prophet loved Him.

For it is not only from this obedience that one may see his love, but also from the words that follow.

For having said, «As the hart panteth after the springs of the waters, so panteth my soul after thee, O my God,» he went on to say:

«My soul thirsted for God, the mighty, the living One;

when shall I come and appear before the face of God?» He did not say, «My soul loved the living God,» nor, «My soul had affection for the living God,» but, in order to display his disposition, he called his love a thirst, showing us both things—the burning heat of his love and the perpetual continuance of his longing.