詩篇註釋 第 6 章 第 1/3 段

For the end, concerning the secret things of the Son, a psalm of David. Another version: A triumphal song upon the death of the Son, an ode of David. Another: Of the youth of the Son. I will confess to You, O Lord, with my whole heart; I will declare all Your wondrous works.

This too belongs to the wisdom of the Spirit.

For He neither made them all short, nor drew them all out to great length, but varied the book even in its measure — by length rousing our sloth, and by brevity giving rest to our weariness.

I will confess to You, O Lord, with my whole heart; I will declare all Your wondrous works.

The kind of confession is twofold.

For it is either the condemnation of one's own sins, or thanksgiving to God.

Here, however, it signifies thanksgiving.

And what does it mean, 'With my whole heart'? With all eagerness, with earnestness, he says.

Not only in prosperity, but also amid adverse things.

For this above all marks a thankful soul, this a soul given to true wisdom — to give thanks even in griefs, to glorify Him for all things, not only for the benefits, but also for the chastisements.

For this procures a greater reward.

For in giving thanks for good things, you have paid a debt;

but in giving thanks amid evils, you have made God your debtor.

For he who has fared well, and acknowledges the favour, has repaid what he owed.

But he who has fared ill, and yet glorifies God, has established a debt in his favour.

In return for this thanksgiving, then, God renders many other good things, both then and now;

so that we shall not even feel the perception of our hardships.

For no one grieves over the very things for which he gives thanks to God;

so that we shall reap yet another gain — the driving away of despondency.

For when you are deprived of money and give thanks, the loss cannot sting you as much as the thanksgiving gladdens you.

This is a mortal blow to the devil;

this makes the mind given to true wisdom;

this establishes the true judgment concerning present things.

For many of mankind do not hold the true estimate concerning the things here below;

Thus also madmen fear things that are not fearful, and often dread things that have no existence, and flee from shadows.

To these are like also those who dread the loss of money.

For the fear is not of nature, but of the will.

For if the thing were truly grievous, all who are deprived of it would necessarily grieve;

but if we do not all grieve when we fail to obtain it, then the grief comes no longer from the nature of the thing, but from an imperfect mind.

For just as in the dark a man often fears even a rope, taking it for a serpent, and suspects everything, and reckons friends to be enemies;

so also those who are held fast by unreason, as though seized by some deep darkness, do not recognize the nature of things,

the nature of things, but wallow in the mire, and do not consider grass to be grass;

and being filled full of avarice, they do not perceive its foul stench;

but if they withdraw from it, then they will know.

And just as those who love an ugly woman, when they cease from the malady, then perceive her hideousness;

so also do the lovers of avarice.

'And how,' someone says, 'shall I be able to quench this passion?' Once again I will make use of the same illustration.

Just as the man who is enamoured of an unlovely woman, if he continually keeps company with her, fans the furnace into flame; but if he withdraws himself a little, the passion by degrees ebbs away;

so also do you withdraw a little, yield but a little, and that small space will become a great distance.

Only make a beginning of the good work.

Have you a house to spare? Sell it, and give to the needy, not reckoning that you are alienating it from yourself, but rather that you are making it more truly your own.

Look not at the outlay, but at the revenue;

not that you are deprived of it here, but that you become its lord and master there.

And thus you will also be able to declare the wonders of God without ceasing.

For this is what the psalm says from the very beginning.

Whereas the lover of money cannot greatly occupy himself with this;

for continually he is anxious over interest, over contracts, over bonds, over merchandise, over wills, over the prices of fields, the prices of houses, over gains and trafficking, and both in his talk and in his cares he never leaves off.

For where a man's treasure is, there is his heart also.

These are the things he utters, these are the things over which he frets;

and just as servants are anxious about their masters' affairs, so also is this man anxious about the affairs of his Master, Mammon;

what has it commanded? what has been accomplished? what has not yet been accomplished but is still to come? For this very reason I exhort you, once you are freed from that siege, to occupy yourself with these narratives, recounting day by day the wonders of God, both those wrought privately and those wrought in common, those toward all and those toward each single person.

For the things of this life are full of such narratives;

and from wherever you begin, you will see the theme welling up more splendidly, whether from heaven, or from earth, or from the air, or from the irrational creatures, or from seeds, or from plants;

whether you wish to recount the ancient gifts, or those before the Law, or those under the Law, or those in the age of grace, or those after our departure hence, or those in death itself, you will find countless seas of these narratives.

What folly, then, would it not be, when we have so much to recount, whereby both delight and gain and profit come to the soul, to defile our reason in the mire by talking of covetousness and rapine? 2.

And if you will, leaving the things above, let us discourse concerning the earth: its magnitude, its position, its usefulness, its nature, its perpetual travail, the produce that springs from it, so varied and manifold, the seeds, the herbs, the plants, the flowers, the meadows, the gardens.

From these again let us in our discourse mark off each tree's form, its position, its height, its fragrance, its fruit, its season, its service, taking account of all the rest, and of the earth itself, both its fruitful and its unfruitful parts;

for one part has brought forth iron, another copper, another gold, another silver;

and another spices, and another medicinal herbs of all kinds and every sort.

What could one say of the use of the waters, both fresh and salt; of the service of the mountains; of the quarries of various marbles, the springs within them, the trees suitable for roofs and for building? All these are the fruit of the wilderness;

it also nourishes all the living creatures and the wild beasts.

What could one say of the lakes, the springs, the rivers? For just as women who have borne children pour forth a fountain of milk and thereby furnish nourishment to their offspring;

so also does the earth, stretching out to gardens and paradises its rivers and springs as breasts, furnish abundant irrigation.

But in the case of women, the child must come to the breast;

whereas here the earth herself stretches out her breasts,

reaching them out everywhere, bringing them down from on high.

The wilderness has yet another use as well.

For it is the more suitable for the body's health, affording a purer air to breathe, and the vantage from a height to survey the whole inhabited world, and to give oneself to contemplation in the solitude, and to draw a little breath free from the cares of this life.

What could one say of the songbirds, and of the way of life of the creatures that may be taken in the hunt? The wilderness has yet another use.

For often it has served the lands in place of walls, having mountains raised up to a great height, and ravines, and precipices.

What could one say of the herbs that spring up in them, rendering great service to bodies that are sick? But if of deserts and mountains the use is so great, and the supply of good things so abundant,

if you should come to the arable land and the level plains, consider how many springs of narratives you will behold.

For just as in our body some parts are bones, others sinews, and others flesh;

so also in the earth, some parts are mountains, others ravines, and others rich and fertile regions.

Why do I speak of the earth, so vast an element? If you should be willing to tell of but a single tree, its form, its use, its fruit, its leaves, its season, and all the rest, you would see the narrative grow great;

if you should proceed in your discourse to the position of the mountains, to all the other things, to man himself and the fashioning of his very body, here again you would find countless seas of narratives.

Let us therefore dwell upon these things; from them will come to us the greatest delight, from them gain, from them an unspeakable wisdom.

Wherefore also, making this plain, he went on to add:

'I will be glad and rejoice in Thee.'

'I will sing praise to Thy name, O Most High.'

This is no small kind of wisdom, to find one's gladness in God.

For he who rejoices in God, as he ought, casts out every pleasure of this life.

And what is the meaning of 'I will be glad in Thee'? It is as if he said: Having such a Master, this is my delight, this is my exultation.

If anyone knows this delight as it ought to be known, he perceives no other delight;

for all the rest are but names of delight, empty of the reality.

This delight lifts a man on high;

this delivers the soul from the body;

this gives it wings toward heaven;

this raises it higher than the concerns of this life;

For if those who love beautiful bodies are aware of nothing in life, but are given over to one thing only, the sight of the beloved,

then he who loves God as one ought to love will thereafter be sensible of what, whether of the agreeable things in this life, or of the painful? Of nothing;

but he will be exalted above all things, revelling in immortal joys, since He whom he loves is Himself immortal.

For those who love other things are quickly and against their will turned to forgetfulness, since the objects of their love perish and wither away;

but this love is boundless, unending, having the greater delight and the fuller gain;

and again it cheers the one who loves by this very fact, that it is never dissolved.

'I will sing praise to Thy name, O Most High.'

This above all is the custom of one who loves.

For those who are in love sing songs to their beloved;

and even when they do not see them, they console themselves through their song.

Even so, then, does the Prophet also do;

since it is not possible to see God, he composes songs to Him, holding converse with Him through his songs, kindling his longing, and seeming even to behold Him;

or rather, through his singing and hymning he kindles longing in many.

For just as those who love utter the praises of their beloved and carry their names about with them,

so too does this one: 'I will sing praise to Thy name, O Most High.'

See how he suspended himself from the earth, and hung his whole being upon that One, dedicating himself to God.

For this reason he continually turns His name about upon his lips;

for this too is the custom of one who loves.

'When mine enemy is turned back'

'backward, they shall be made weak and shall perish at Thy presence.'

Another version: 'When mine enemies are turned back, stumbling and perishing from before Thy face.'

And this above all belongs to one who loves: to recount the benefits continually, and to glory in them;

for this comes from affection, and it in turn rekindles the affection.

And one would not err in saying that here he speaks also of spiritual enemies.

For these too are turned back, whenever they find a noble soul.

For just as a spear falling upon a shield cuts through it if it is soft, but if it be hard and resistant accomplishes nothing, but with its point bent back falls away;

even so does it happen in the case of the soul.

For if the darts sent by the devil find the soul soft and slack, they sink into its very depths;

but if they find it hard and stronger, he himself departs without success, and has wrought no dreadful thing against it.

And two gains come of it, or rather even three:

for he did the soul no harm, but rather made it stronger, while he himself has thereby become weaker.

Consider now how he proclaims the strength of God.

'They shall be weak,' he says, 'and shall perish at Your presence.'

Again, when you hear of 'presence' (face), suspect nothing bodily.

For here it signifies His working, His manifestation, the effortless ease of His strength.

'He who looks upon the earth, and makes it tremble;'

so then here too he says the same thing.

For His mere oversight suffices to destroy the wicked.

For if the presence of holy men makes the strength of demons weak, how much more the presence of God.

If His lightning, when it appears, strikes all with terror, consider that indestructible power of His: how it strikes with terror, how it destroys the wicked.

Have you seen a form of hymnody? Have you seen a manner of doxology, and how he recounts His power? And from this too he teaches no small doctrine of true wisdom by saying, 'I will sing praise to Your name, O Most High.'

'When my enemy is turned back.'

What then is this? That not only in afflictions, but also in times of ease, he was sober and watchful.

For many, when they are humbled by evils, become more earnest;

but by good things they become more slothful and more slack;

which is what he says further on concerning the Jews:

'When He slew them, then they sought Him.'

but he is sober even in prosperity, and is fully awake.

And this is no small thing toward true wisdom.

'For You have maintained my judgment and my cause.'

'You have sat on the throne, You who judge righteousness.'

'You have rebuked the nations, and the ungodly has perished.'

'You have blotted out his name for ever and ever.'

See again the true wisdom of the man: how he does not himself take vengeance on his enemies, but yields the retribution to God, keeping the apostolic precept:

And this is not the only thing one may see, but also that he was suffering these things unjustly.

For unless he had been suffering unjustly, God would not have taken up his cause.

'You have sat on the throne, You who judge righteousness.'

He speaks in a more human fashion, saying 'throne' and 'seat.'

But the phrase 'who judge righteousness' declares what is customary to God, and what is peculiar to His essence.

For of men one cannot say this.

For they do not by any means always judge righteousness, even if they be righteous ten thousand times over, being sometimes through ignorance, sometimes through slothfulness ignorant of what is just;

but God, being freed from all these things, both knowing and willing, brings forth a just verdict.

So then the phrase 'You have sat on the throne' means 'You have given judgment, You have taken up the cause, You have avenged.'

'You have rebuked the nations, and the ungodly has perished.'

Do you see how He has no need of weapons, nor of sword, nor of bows and arrows, but those things are spoken in a more human fashion?

For it suffices for God to rebuke, and those who are about to be punished perish.

But that you may learn His strength, listen also to what follows:

'Thou hast blotted out their name for ever, and unto ages of ages.'

Thou hast uprooted them, thou hast so utterly effaced them, that the very memory of them has perished.

'The swords of the enemy have failed utterly.'

What does this mean? That, having consumed his devices and his counsels, he says, thou hast made him destitute of his own weapons.

For such is the wrath of God:

it effaces all things and destroys them.

Or, as another interpreter teaches, having said 'Desolate';

that thou hast made desolate not only their cities, but even their wilderness places, and hast overthrown their cities.

For thus did the righteous man wage war, thus did he cast down his adversaries, not by employing weapons and spears, but by having the aid that comes from God.

Therefore his warfare was brilliant and illustrious, and his victory was won by main force.

'His memorial hath perished with a sound.'

What does 'with a sound' mean? Either he speaks of the utter ruin, or of the resounding magnitude of the evils.

And this too belongs to the providential care of God, that He does not do these things secretly, so that by the calamities of some others too may become better.

The word therefore signifies the conspicuousness of the destruction.

'And the Lord abideth for ever.'

For 'to sit' is in many places used of the permanence of His being;

as Jeremiah also declares, saying, 'Thou that sittest for ever.'

And the Hebrew here says 'Yesheb.'

The prophet says this continually with regard to the destruction of men, showing the endlessness of His being, and that while the race of men is perishable,

yet His being and His majesty are without end.

And this he does by holding fear over them, so that they may tremble before Him on both accounts: both because of the greatness of His glory, and because of the imperishableness of His own being; both as one who abides for ever, and as one who ever punishes with exceeding severity.

But if it is needful to say something also according to a higher spiritual sense, we must not decline it.

For some things may be contemplated in a deeper sense;

but other things must be understood only as they have been stated;

as the saying, 'In the beginning God made the heaven and the earth';

while other things are contrary to the words themselves;

as the saying, 'Let the hind of love, and the colt of thy graces, keep company with thee.'

'Let them be for thee alone, and let no stranger partake with thee.'

'Let the fountain of thy water be for thee alone.'

For if thou shouldst understand what is literally set down, and shouldst not flee the word but pursue the meaning, it is a mark of great inhumanity not even to share water with anyone;

but here the discourse is concerning a wife, that one should enjoy her with chastity, calling her a fountain of good things, and a hind, on account of the purity of the marriage union.

But in some cases one must accept both the literal sense, and that which is signified through it;

as is the case with, 'Even as Moses lifted up the serpent.'

For this too we must believe, that it happened; for indeed it happened; and yet what came of it was a type of Christ.

So here too one would not err in taking the things that are said with reference to the Jewish matters.

'Thou hast sat upon the throne, thou that judgest righteousness.'

'Thou hast rebuked the nations, and the ungodly hath perished;

thou hast blotted out his name for ever, and unto ages of ages.'

'The swords of the enemy have failed utterly, and thou hast overthrown their cities.'

'His memorial hath perished with a sound.'

For the calamity of the very men who crucified Christ is manifest throughout the whole inhabited world, their cities were destroyed, the devil's contrivances failed, and the providential care of Christ has laid hold of all things.

But leaving these matters to be fitted together by those who love learning, let us hold to the subject before us.

He has prepared His throne in judgment.

Another version reads, 'He has established it for judgment.'

And He Himself will judge the world in righteousness; He will judge the peoples in uprightness.

Do you see how little by little he leads his discourse upward? For since he had made mention of a throne, he shows the nature of that throne—not composed of wood, nor of any material, but of righteousness.

For it is founded upon righteousness, he says.

He will judge the world in righteousness.

He foretells both things present and things to come.

For the universal judgment is reserved for that other place;

but the partial judgment takes place even here.

For He works many things even now, so that the insensible may not suppose that things exist without providence.

But if not all receive their crowns here, do not marvel.

For He has prepared a day on which He is about to judge the world;

but the present life is a stadium, a contest, and a wrestling-match.

For this reason not all receive their due here; rather, for those who do well the rewards are stored up in that other place, and for those who fall away the punishments;

but here there is forbearance and long-suffering, so that through repentance one may wash away his sins.

Since even a murderer, so long as he is still on the road, has the power to change and to be delivered from punishment;

but once he has come under the sentence of the judge, thereafter there is the sword, the executioner, and the pits of doom.

So long as we are in this present life, it is possible by changing our ways to escape the retribution;

but once we have departed there, we shall lament without remedy.

For He has prepared His throne in judgment.

But if anyone should take the word 'He has prepared' in the way it has been stated, he will not err;

for all things are made ready—both the things of punishment, and the things of crowns, and the things of the sentence.

There is no delay, nor time, nor tardiness with God, when the living shall by no means precede those who have fallen asleep, even as Paul says, that 'We who are alive, who remain unto the coming of the Lord, shall by no means precede those who have fallen asleep.'

Behold the wisdom of the Prophet, how he speaks of things present, and how of things to come.

You have rebuked the nations, and the ungodly one has perished.

He has prepared His throne in judgment.

And He Himself will judge the world in righteousness.

And this he does, so that those who disbelieve in those future things may receive the proof from things present.

And the Lord became a refuge for the poor man.

Continually he calls himself both poor and needy, and that though he dwelt in royal palaces.

But I am poor and needy.

For he knew, he clearly knew, that all human things are feebler than a shadow, and that nothing is so truly our own as virtue, while all other things are like leaves attached from without.

For that virtue is truly our own is plain from this.

Wherever we go, we carry this about with us.

Therefore this is more truly our own, while all other things are far off.

Just as, then, we call our own the one who is near to us,

so also we call this virtue more truly our own than riches, since it is always near to us.

Consider for me also his thankfulness of heart and his philosophic soul.

For though he had horses, and armies, and ten thousand things beside, he let all those go and drew down to himself the help that comes from above, and to God he entrusted his deliverance.

For he did not say, 'My armies became a refuge for you,' nor 'my riches,' nor 'my walls';

but, 'The Lord became a refuge for the poor man.'

'He himself,' he says, 'set me in safety';

for nothing is equal to this refuge, both in point of ease and of safety.

For the other refuges may be plotted against, and it is not possible to find them quickly and ready at hand, but they are hindered by time and place and by ten thousand circumstances;

but this one you find near at hand, only if you seek it with exactness.

'For while you are yet speaking, I will say, Behold, I am here.'

And, 'I am a God who draws near, and not a God afar off.'

We have need therefore neither of running nor of a journey abroad, but even while sitting at home it is possible to draw to ourselves this refuge.

And sometimes he delivers men out of their dangers;

but sometimes he even makes them themselves more illustrious and mightier than their enemies, and both of these at the fitting season.

For when those who enjoy his help are moderate, he grants both.

But if they do not possess this virtue in full measure, he stops at the one, so that by the addition

of the second they should come to madness.

And that you may learn that this often lifts men up to madness, Hezekiah was thereby exalted;

yet even so God did not overlook him, but since the prosperity of victory had exalted his mind, he brought upon him the correction that came through his sickness.

'A helper in good seasons, in afflictions.'

What is the meaning of 'In good seasons'? 'In due time,' he says, 'seasonably.'

He speaks of a twofold opportuneness, both that he helps, and that he helps in due season.

For here he calls affliction a 'good season.'

Why so? Because it is the mother of true wisdom, and it delivers a man from death, and above all it draws down the inclination of God.

Then sloth is done away with, and dissipation;

then we become more earnest in our supplications.

And just as winter is the fitting season for the tilling of the earth,

so is affliction for the tending of the soul.

For we always have need of his help, even when we are in prosperity;

but then most of all, when we are in afflictions.

Here he also hinted at another thing:

that we too must be active and diligent.

For he who helps, helps the one who is working.

We must not therefore lie back in idleness, but must bring supplication, and almsgiving, and all that lies within our own power.

Since allies too give aid to those who are fighting, not to those who lie back and are idle.

If then you wish to enjoy the alliance of God, never betray what depends on your own self.

Thus also Job was helped, standing firm and contending like a wrestler.

Thus also the apostles, being active and diligent.

'And let those who know your name hope in you.'

The Prophet does this continually, turning his discourse from prayer to exhortation, being the common teacher of the whole world, and setting forth into the midst the treasure of true wisdom.

Well did he say, 'Let those who know your name hope.'

For those who know you, he says, and your succour and your alliance, have as a sufficient anchor the hope that rests upon you, a sufficient ally, and an unbreakable tower, which promises not only the loosing of their troubles, but also does not permit them to be thrown into confusion even while the troubles are present.

For the man who has freed himself from human concerns and has fastened himself to the hope that comes from above not only draws to himself the swiftest deliverance from his troubles, but even in the midst of those very troubles he is neither thrown into confusion nor disturbed, being aided by the hope of that anchor.

So it was, at any rate, that the three young men not only were delivered from the furnace, but did not even become disturbed while they lingered within the furnace.

For they knew the alliance that comes from God.

For this very reason another also says:

'And they shall trust'—which is to say, they shall be of good courage.

For far greater than the security that comes from the beginning of tumults is the security that comes from hope in God.

For the one is human, but the other is divine and invincible.

Since he said that He became a helper, that He became a refuge, he now shows also in what way this comes to pass.

How, then, does it come to pass? When we continue steadfastly hoping in Him.

But if He does not immediately dissolve your troubles, this too comes to pass for the sake of your testing.

For just as, being able not to permit trials to come upon you, He permits them, that He may make you more steadfast;

so also, being able to dissolve them from the very outset, He delays and again defers, straining tight your vigour, exercising your hope, making your disposition toward Him more earnest; and He neither permits us to be forever afflicted, lest we grow utterly weary, nor forever at ease, lest we sink into slackness.

For You have not forsaken those who seek You, O Lord.

Another rendering: For You did not forsake.

So also another says: 'Look back to the generations of old, and see: who ever hoped upon the Lord and was put to shame? Or who ever called upon Him, and He forsook him?' And how, one asks, is God to be sought, seeing that He is everywhere? With diligence and eagerness, and by freeing oneself from all the affairs of this life.

For often, though we have many things before our eyes and in our hands, we do not know it, but go about searching for what we already hold fast, whenever the mind is turned toward something else.

How, then, is it possible to seek God? When we strain our mind toward Him, when we free ourselves from the affairs of this life.

For indeed the one who seeks, casting all things out of his soul, comes to that which is sought.

And one must not merely seek, but also seek diligently.

The one who seeks diligently does not seek by himself alone, but also takes others as helpers, so as to find what is sought.

But in the affairs of this life we have often sought and yet not found;

in spiritual things, however, this cannot be, but it is altogether necessary that the one who seeks should find.

For if we but go forth to seek, God does not permit us to labour hard for long;

Sing praises to the Lord, who dwells in Zion.

Declare among the nations His doings.

Another renders it: Among the peoples His devices.

What are you saying? He whose throne is heaven and whose footstool is the earth, in whose hand are the ends of the earth—does this One dwell in Zion? Yes.

For by 'dwelling' here he does not mean His being enclosed—for His majesty is boundless—but rather His intimate closeness to the place, and His holding it as His own, because through this condescension He drew the Jews toward Himself;

since a house too is so called with regard to us, because of our holding it as our own.

And He is said to dwell in us as well—not as being contained by us, but as holding us as His own.

And Zion, by way of a higher interpretation, is called the Church.

For 'you have come to Mount Zion, and to the Church of the firstborn.'

And fittingly the Church is called a mountain, because of its firmness, and steadfastness, and immovability.

For just as it is impossible to shake a mountain, so also is it impossible to shake the Church of God.

Declare among the nations His doings.

He wishes them to be heralds of the benefactions of God, and never to conceal His benefactions.

And this He seeks everywhere, both for the sake of those who speak and for the sake of those who hear.

For there is gain both for these and for those, if they give heed.

For He who requires their blood has remembered.

Do you see what sort of 'doings' he means? The benefactions.