Verses 129–136

The heading for this octet is pe — mouth.

The mouth of God utters commands and commandments; the mouths of God-fearing people, having confessed their complete submission to God, pray to Him to teach them and give them strength to fulfill exactly all that has been spoken by His mouth, expressing contrition and repentance if they should at any time depart from it. All of this is the subject of the present octet, in various nuances and expressions.

Ps. 118:129. Your testimonies are wonderful; therefore does my soul keep them.

The “testimonies,” or witnesses of God, encompass all of Divine Revelation: concerning the all-perfect God Himself, concerning His attributes and works, His creation and Providence—and most of all concerning the ordering of our salvation in Jesus Christ, which was seen by faith even before His coming in the flesh. But since the present psalm speaks throughout of God’s commandments—that is, not of God Himself, but of how to please Him—in the present verse by “testimonies” we are to understand God’s commandments, the rules of life. And indeed, all of Divine Scripture teaches primarily how to live, while mentioning other things only in passing, as it were—for its task is to prepare not sages but holy people.

Why, then, are these testimonies, these commandments, “wonderful”? That God is wonderful, that all His perfections are wonderful, that His creation and Providence are wonderful, and especially salvation in the Son of God—this is self-evident; but in what sense are the commandments wonderful? — They are wonderful because they are full and perfect, because together they encompass everything, and each one is without the slightest defect. Thus do we speak of things beautifully made: “Wonderfully fine—one could not take one’s eyes from them!” The testimonies of God are wonderful in their fruits, for they place the man who faithfully fulfills them in his proper station and elevate him above all creation, clothing him in the likeness of God. They are wonderful also in where they lead: having clothed one in the likeness of God here, they after death usher one into the realm of eternal rest and blessedness. They are wonderful finally because in many respects they are incomprehensible. Besides moral prescriptions, God’s testimonies defined the entire order of worship. This order was both simple and mysterious, for it served as a shadow of the good things to come. The prophetic spirit discerned this coming reality through the shadow, and could not but marvel at its height—though not fully comprehending it. Blessed Augustine says: “It is wonderful that a law was given that could not give life, yet was nonetheless the unavoidable path to true life.”

If we turn from the old to the new, the wondrous character of God’s testimonies is stamped on their every feature. What a thing it is that the Son of God, who is God, had to come, become incarnate, and suffer? What a thing it is that without faith in the coming, the incarnation, and the redemption through the death of the Son of God, one cannot even think of appearing pleasing to God or drawing near to Him, however virtuously one lives? What a thing it is that despite such a sacrifice, it was necessary for the Lord after the Resurrection to ascend to heaven and in His place to send another Comforter? What a thing it is that without this ascension—as though a path were being opened—the Spirit of God could not descend and dwell in us? What a thing it is that one who wishes to please God and save his soul must receive the Spirit of God into himself—and moreover in such a way that, besides faith, the desire for God, and complete self-surrender to His all-acting will, it is necessary to partake of the sacred mysteries, in which alone the invisible Spirit is communicated through the medium of visible matter? What a thing it is that without the all-acting grace of the Spirit, true moral life is impossible—and moreover in such a way that this Spirit does not act without the all-acting freedom and personal powers of man? What a thing it is that in order to be clothed in a new spiritual life, one must die—though not bodily? What a thing it is that without real participation in the cross of Christ through painful self-mortification, deprivations, and agonizing struggle to the grave, life in the Spirit is not given?..

All these are wonders in the general structure of Christian life—but how many wonderful commandments there are in detail! If someone strikes you on the cheek, offer him the other; if someone wishes to take your outer garment, give him your inner one also; if someone forces you to go one mile with him, go two with him; love your enemy, do good to your wrongdoer, forgive every injury done to you; give to whoever asks, demanding and expecting no return; and so on. And all of this is urged as the most perfect manner of action, leading most quickly and directly to the goal, as the most evident seal of true Christianity. Reflecting on all of this, how can one not exclaim: “Your testimonies are wonderful, O Lord!”

The awareness of the wondrous character of God’s testimonies disposes one to wonder at them—that is, to look upon them, to penetrate and search them, with love and the desire afterward to realize them in one’s life. This occupation stands at the transition to fulfilling them in deed. Therefore the prophet says that, marveling at God’s testimonies, his soul set itself to searching them—and not in any half-hearted way, but with all diligence: “Therefore does my soul keep them.” “Keep”—it set itself to searching intensely, according to the interpretation of Zigabenos and Anthimos. Such searching keeps the memory and attention fixed upon how to live; and having grasped the beauty of the rules of life, it inclines one toward them and kindles zeal to live by them. That is why one who meditates on the law of the Lord day and night will be “like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that brings forth its fruit in its season” (Ps. 1:3). Scripture does not know scholarly research aimed at bore knowledge: its speech is always of life and of its ordering. Academic inquiry is born of indifference to life—to cover with an appearance of industry one’s idle doing-nothing.

Ps. 118:130. The unfolding of Your words gives light; it gives understanding to the simple.

What is “the unfolding of words”? When a king is in his chambers, no one can see him; but when he comes out onto the balcony, anyone may see him. So it is with God’s testimonies: while they remain in the mind of God they are invisible, but when they go forth from His mouth they become manifest. It is of this unfolding of words that the prophet speaks here. It is as if he were saying: the words that go forth from Your mouth give light and wisdom to the simple.

One may further understand here the following: only the unfolding of Your words gives light. Were it not for this unfolding, there would be no enlightenment. The conscience does testify to what is right, but not always clearly, not always fully, not always convincingly and effectively; and therefore it does not always move one to action and remains fruitless. But the word that goes forth from the mouth of God is clear, full, and effective. It falls upon the conscience and, awakening it, penetrates to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, of joints and marrow.

“It enlightens and makes wise…” When the sun rises, it illumines everything, and all objects, all paths among them with all their branchings, become visible. The traveler then walks joyfully and without fear. So too the word of God, proceeding from the mouth of God, illumines all the paths of a life pleasing to God, and one who has taken up the zeal to walk those paths sees clearly where to go and walks boldly, without fear of stumbling. How great this blessing is may be seen by comparing the condition of those who do not have the enlightening word of God with those who do have it and live by it. The brightness of the eyes and the radiance of the face bear witness that behind them is a soul illumined by the word of the mouth of God.

Enlightenment shows the order and rules of life, while the making wise teaches how to live and act according to them. This is the most essential aspect for the one who works at it. The skill to live and to perform the works of virtue always at the right time, in the right place, and in the right measure—a skill that lends to those works a gracious beauty and fruitfulness—such skill is a great gift of God. It is imparted through the words of the mouth of God. These words not infrequently point out directly how each thing ought to be done; but more than that, by the power of their influence they attune the mind and conscience to determine, in the moment of need, the manner of acting from every angle, as the all-governing Lord would have it appear. The one who remains faithful to the word of God always attains to this.

But the word of God enlightens and makes wise “babes.” One way to understand this: the word of the mouth of God is so adapted to our understanding that even a little child of little discernment can comprehend it and be instructed by it. By “child” one may also understand simple, unlearned people. But more directly, those who are simple in heart are meant here, even if they be highly educated. The word of God enlightens and makes wise those who receive it guilelessly, who do not question why and wherefore, who do not waver in deliberation—“Is it really so?” — but straightaway, as they hear, so they follow it, whatever it commands. Worldly wisdom, once it intrudes, will not leave the simplicity of the word of God unharmed and will only disturb the steps of those who wish to follow its guidance. That wisdom must be bent beneath the word of God; and then the childlike reception of the word in the heart will make it fruitful, just as the earth is fruitful when it opens its depths without objection to receive seeds.

Ps. 118:131. I opened my mouth and drew in breath, for I longed for Your commandments.

These words literally express the same thing as a common turn of speech among us, when someone who has long and earnestly sought and striven for something finally achieves what he desired. “Glory to God,” they say then, “at last I can breathe freely; I have attained what I longed for!” In keeping with this, holy David describes his inward state as he experienced it when he found the commandments and entered upon their path. He had strongly desired to know them and, having them in his heart, to live by them so as to please God thereby and to abide in God’s love. But who can say that he may reach this on his own? The holy prophet did not presume to, but he sought. And so when he heard the commandments that proceeded from the mouth of God—wondrous, enlightening, and making wise—when he loved them with his whole heart and rushed upon their path, he could not restrain himself from crying out: “Glory to God! I breathe freely, for I have attained what I longed for: I have come to know the commandments and have entered upon them; now I am on the way to the goal. There is nothing more to desire, if only I do not stray from this saving path.” What freshness of spiritual life! What a living and heartfelt relationship to the commandments! He does not relate coldly to the given manner of life, merely adopting its outward form, but rushes toward it with his whole soul, seeing no other good on earth save to be faithful to the commandments and the will of God Most High. This is the root, the wellspring of truly moral life—strong, abundant, inexhaustibly flowing.

Yet all our commentators—Athanasius the Great, Theodoret, Saint Ambrose, Augustine, Hilary, Anthimus, Zigabenos, and those cited by the last of these: Basil the Great, Gregory the Theologian, Gregory of Nyssa, and the Venerable Nilus—do not stop at the literal meaning but see in these words a deeper sense. They understand by the opening of the mouth the opening of the mind and heart—an expression of the soul’s thirst—and by the drawing in of breath, the desire and reception of the Spirit of grace, who strengthens and assists in the keeping of the commandments, loved with the whole heart. “By ‘mouth,’” says Saint Athanasius the Great, “the prophet here means the heart’s ardor,” because, as the blessed Theodoret explains, it draws the grace of the Spirit, just as he says in another place: “Open your mouth wide, and I will fill it” (Ps. 80:11). “Understand, then,” teaches Saint Ambrose, “what the mouth is. It is the heart, or the striving of the inner man. The soul too has its own mouth. Open it to Christ, that you may draw in His Spirit.” “The heart opened by faith thirsts to be fed with heavenly truth,” Saint Hilary reflects; “but it is the Spirit who writes it upon the tablets of the heart (2 Cor. 3:3). The prophet seeks to draw the Spirit in, since the Spirit comes only when He is sought. Therefore one must desire, seek, draw Him in, to be nourished by Him with spiritual food, as an innocent child is nourished with milk from its mother’s breast.” “What did the prophet so earnestly desire?” writes the blessed Augustine. “The fulfillment of God’s commandments. He desired it, but did not hope to attain what he desired. Therefore he opened his mouth to draw in that by which he might attain it—opened it by asking, seeking, knocking; and in his thirst he was refreshed by the good Spirit, that by His power he might accomplish what he could not accomplish on his own, that is, to fulfill the commandment that is ‘holy, righteous, and good’ (Rom. 7:12). For if we, being evil, know how to give good gifts to our children, how much more shall the Father, who is from heaven, give the Holy Spirit to those who ask Him (Luke 11:13). Not those who act by their own spirit, but those who ‘are led by the Spirit of God, these are sons’ (Rom. 8:14). And they become good sons of God all the more, the more abundantly the good Spirit is given to them by the Father.”

Ps. 118:132. Look upon me and have mercy on me, according to the judgment of those who love Your name.

He has already loved the commandments, has entered upon their path, has acknowledged the safe certainty of this path, and has drawn in the Spirit of grace—what more does he desire? The unbroken covering of God’s protection and God’s favor. In spiritual life one cannot yield to carelessness for a single moment: there are obstacles everywhere, enemies on all sides, and before one knows it they may creep up and crush. Only the eye of God sees all; only the covering of God will make safe from everything. Hence the cry: “Look upon me and have mercy on me. Have mercy”—that is, show favor and goodwill—“according to the judgment,” or manner, “of those who love Your name.” “The prophet,” says the blessed Theodoret, “entreats to be counted worthy of God’s favor, yet not simply, but in the way that is customary for You—O God—to show Your mercy to those who love You. I entreat that the same decree be given concerning me as concerning them.” “As You have decreed,” explains Saint Athanasius, “to look upon those who love Your name and to count them worthy of Your great visitation, so count me worthy of the same mercy!” Thus the one who diligently strives to please God by keeping the commandments perceives himself as continually upheld in the hands of God; and yet, seeing the abyss beneath him, he prays that the Lord not withdraw His right hand from him. True life in the spirit is sustained by a continuous mutual movement, so to speak, of God toward the spirit and the spirit toward God. When there is a living striving of our spirit toward God and an effective in-flowing of the Spirit of God toward our spirit, then spiritual life is in motion. This is what constitutes that spiritual breathing by which spiritual life is sustained, just as bodily life is sustained by bodily breathing. There is no life in a bodily organism without breathing; there is no life in the spirit without this communion with God. And there is nothing incredible in this. God is everywhere and fills all things. When the heart opens itself by faith, by seeking, by self-surrender to God, God enters and fills it. There is the life of the spirit! One can only marvel that not all of us live this life. Many do not even know what this life is, for it is invisible and, so to speak, intangible, though all-effectual. Others understand by it something altogether different from what it truly is. And this is even more pitiable: they deceive themselves, thinking they possess it, when in fact they have nothing at all. The wisdom lies in finding the true path. But the one whom the Heavenly Father draws will always find it.

The words “according to the judgment of those who love” also point to God’s love. Thus God Himself has promised: “I love those who love Me” (Prov. 8:17). The heart of the beloved receives the love of God and feels its warmth. And one’s own love for God is a warm feeling. Warmth meeting warmth, fusing together, kindles a burning within a person’s spirit—a burning that does not consume but gives life. So it is with all those who walk the true path. Since God is light, those beloved of God are overshadowed by a cloud of light, which makes them visible to all who love God and are loved by God, and hides them from enemies and those who fight against God, blinding them. The love of God is the natural covering of those whom He loves and who love Him. Such is the manner of those who love the name of God. It is for this that the prophet prays: “Have mercy on me, according to the judgment of those who love Your name.” May my soul always be clothed in the covering of light shed by Your love, so that, warmed by its heat, it may live joyfully within itself, and, illumined by its radiance, may repel its enemies, abiding as though in some impregnable stronghold.

Ps. 118:133. Order my steps according to Your word, and let no iniquity have dominion over me.

The prophet continues to express what he still needs after having found, loved, and resolved to fulfill the commandments uttered by the mouth of the living God, whom he sees and loves: “Order my steps according to Your word.” He is already walking, yet still fears making a false step, for there is much that seems proper without truly being so. On this very thing is built the most dangerous snare of the enemy, by which he catches those who are zealous but not yet experienced. He sets before them for practice a good that is either out of place, or out of season, or ill-suited to the person acting or to those around him. The inexperienced person acts; and since deeds of this kind are accompanied by a turmoil of thoughts and feelings, he is thereafter subjected to a fiercer attack by the enemy, who is a great master at catching men in that turmoil, which dims the clarity of consciousness. Then come suggestions that are already less good, but of a kind whose impurity is not so plain amidst the turmoil. Take one step along them—and it is already a half-fall; and from there, the full fall is not far off. This is why in all God-fearing people there always glows a most sincere prayer: “Order my steps according to Your word.” “God Himself,” says Saint Athanasius the Great, “directs the course of those who, having left vice and ignorance, have entered upon the path of virtue and knowledge.” “And only those,” the blessed Theodoret adds, “who are counted worthy of such guidance and submit to it, walk safely and surely. One who has surrendered himself to God is not abandoned by God; and when we add our own zeal to that, God grants help and directs our course.” Just as the holy apostles said of themselves that they could not even think of anything fitting on their own in the affairs of their apostolic service, so every zealot for his own salvation confesses the same—and that salvation is at the same time God’s work, the first and most desired by Him. How guidance is given, how it is received, recognized, and accepted, no one can know or explain except one who has been counted worthy of it. But even here everything takes place as it does in ordinary affairs—that is, after a certain inquiry, and then a decision; otherwise one cannot escape ambushes. It happens that feeling determines directly, but only those who have already acquired trained sensibilities in the discernment of good and evil follow it directly.

“And let no iniquity have dominion over me.” Where does this prayerful cry come from, given such zeal, such closeness to God, such wondrous guidance? How could iniquity find any place to dominate here? — Truly, it has no place, but it may gain one. Fearing this, the prophet prays that he not fall under such tyranny. Sin does not leave alone the one who has entered upon God’s path of virtue, and what is sinful swarms around the head of the one walking it like a cloud of gnats, buzzing and attempting to sting. These are thoughts, temptations, impulses. Who is free from them? But for the one who is faithful to his resolution, they come and go—with nothing; they beckon, but do not drag away, for they hover only around him and swarm above his head. But there are those that pass inward as well, and among these are old friends; they can so seize hold and draw with such force that the one who experiences this is led, as if on a leash, toward what is not good. If help from above does not come—how long before a fall? That is why the prophet prays: Do not permit, O Lord, that sinful impulses, contrary to You, should ever gain mastery over me, overpower me, and drag me toward what is evil, to Your dishonor.

Ps. 118:134. Deliver me from the slander of men, and I will keep Your commandments.

The holy prophet had just spoken of inward temptations drawing him toward sin, and had prayed that they might not prevail over him; now he prays for deliverance from outward temptations, singling out the most painful of them—slander: “Deliver me from slander.” Visible affliction and false accusation are bitter, but more bitter still is the invisible kind, when, without open attack, harm is done in secret by spreading slander. Slander, when it reaches the ears of the slandered, even before it causes any visible harm, already constricts the heart, weakens the energy for doing good, and cools one’s ardor for it. A traveler who receives an unexpected blow to the chest, though he does not fall, nevertheless stops in bewilderment. So too does slander strike the one who is walking the path of virtue. Of course, the witness of conscience is a strong repulse to slander, but even it is somewhat shaken and for a time gives way before the malicious effect of slander. The sympathy of those around us is not the productive force of virtue and ought not to be so, but it is a very favorable atmosphere for its blossoming and bearing fruit. Its absence—and all the more the presence of the opposite, that is, false interpretation of one’s deeds—acts on their performance the way frost acts on plants in springtime. It is clear, then, why the prophet couples deliverance from slander with the vow: “And I will keep Your commandments”—as if to say: and I will keep Your commandments without hindrance; or: and it will be easier and more fitting for me then to keep Your commandments.

To ward off this evil influence of slander upon the workers of virtue, Christ the Lord, encouraging those who are zealous for it, added at the end: “Blessed are you when men reproach you… and say every evil word against you falsely, for My sake. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven” (Matt. 5:11–12). Slander sets one apart from others and kills with the feeling of loneliness in the midst of many. The prophet experienced this himself, expressing it elsewhere thus: I look around and see no one familiar—as though all are strangers to me. And what happened? My legs gave way, he says: “Escape has failed me.” Where can a man turn when forsaken by all? Nowhere, save to heaven. “I cried to You, O Lord, I said: You are my hope” (Ps. 141:5–6). Having forsaken the world and all that is in it, such a person must transfer his hopes upward, and find rest there, trusting in the unfailing word of the Lord: “Blessed are you when men reproach you.”

Comparing this verse with the preceding one, where the prophet prays that inward temptations toward sin not overpower him, one may think that here too, praying for deliverance from slander, he is praying for deliverance from its destructive effect upon the soul—that is, that slander might not prevail over him, might not constrict the heart, might not wound or cool him toward what is good. God is able to stop slander’s mouth, but He does not always do so. Instead of this, leaving slander to live and roam, He sends consolation into the heart of the slandered and thereby delivers him from the danger to which the soul is exposed when it yields to the grief that slander causes.

Ps. 118:135. Make Your face to shine upon Your servant, and teach me Your statutes.

From a person’s face one can guess the disposition of the one encountered toward the one who encounters him—whether it is good or ill, benevolent or unfavorable. A dark face signifies ill will; a bright face signifies goodwill, a loving relationship, and in its highest form—a protecting and defending gaze, with the desire to do every good. Therefore, saying “Make Your face to shine,” the prophet is praying for God’s loving goodwill toward himself.

The face of God is invisible, but it is contemplated by the mind. In this, the conscience makes known what relation the one who contemplates God stands in to the all-seeing God whom he contemplates, and in the feeling is reflected God’s goodwill or ill will toward him, corresponding to the witness of his conscience. This is not something imaginary, but what truly takes place in the spirit from the actual action of God upon it. God is everywhere and contains all things; He holds the spirit of man as well. This holding is reflected in the spiritual feeling, corresponding to the spirit’s condition. Therefore “make Your face to shine” can also mean: grant me, O Lord, to always gaze upon You with the eyes of the mind without fear or perturbation on account of my failings before You. Grant me to “always set” (Ps. 15:8) You before me and never dare to offend You in anything, or compel Your goodness to overshadow Your bright face. In the peaceful, undisturbed, bold gazing toward God lies the comfort and strength of those who are zealous to please Him. It fills the spirit with a sweet warmth and keeps all the powers in a state of eager readiness to turn at once to whatever deed is required for the Lord’s sake, as the current circumstances indicate. This is the most saving state—to gaze with a bright face upon the bright face of God. It alone can take the place of all ascetic methods, though without them it is difficult, and perhaps even impossible, for it to be established and sustained.

But who is pure? Even apart from our awareness, how many failings and impurities there may be! The Lord condescends to our weaknesses and covers them with His mercy. But the zealot for pleasing God, breathing love for Him, cannot be indifferent to this, and with his whole desire he longs to be perfectly clean in everything before God. Therefore he prays: “Teach me Your statutes”—teach me to be always right before You in deeds, words, thoughts, feelings, and undertakings—not only in those that are outwardly visible, but in the most hidden ones as well, known and seen by You alone. The Lord gradually leads those who pray thus sincerely into the knowledge of their hidden failings, and teaches them to correct and amend them, so that they may finally stand completely pure and blameless before the very face of God and be so attested on the Day of the Lord.

Ps. 118:136. Mine eyes pour out streams of water, because I have not kept Your law.

The prophet had just suggested the thought of unrecognized failings; here he speaks of failings that are recognized, testifying that such recognition draws from his eyes two fountains of tears. By this he expresses sincere repentance for everything that he has consciously permitted in his outward life and in his inward movements that is displeasing to the Lord and contrary to His plain will expressed in the commandments.

A traveler or a man occupied with labor will inevitably get dusty and soil his clothing; therefore he has need to wash himself and change his garment. So too the one walking the path of spiritual life, amid all his labors of doing good, frequently falls short—now from short-sightedness, now from inattentiveness and accidental distraction of thoughts, and sometimes from a sympathy or impulse that bursts forth. All of this, in varying degrees, is defilement that weighs upon the conscience—weighs upon it, I say, but does not crush it. Recognizing these things, the zealous person is stirred and hurries to cleanse what is unclean—with what? With the water of tears. He is not content merely to acknowledge his failing and form the intention of not committing it again; but he grieves over it and is so deeply and sincerely contrite that from the anguish of his heart his eyes become “fountains of water.” Tears of contrition are a spiritual washing. And this is not something imaginary—it is truly accomplished. One who has wept is renewed. But this renewal is sealed only upon one who has received absolution through confession. And so the person is pure again. If you become defiled again, use the same washing again, and so throughout your life. There are those who love bodily cleanliness so much that they change their linen and use ablutions every day. If this is done for the body, how much more earnestly should the same be done for the soul!

What draws such water from the eyes of the penitent? Not fear and anxiety for oneself, but love. Fear and anxiety for oneself can produce only the resolution to amend and be more careful about future failings; but the tears that wash away moral defilement are drawn forth by love. Love cannot endure stepping outside the will of the beloved. Among people, such instances are often covered over by the fact that the beloved does not learn of the departure from his will—this comforts and pacifies the one who loves; but with respect to God, such a refuge is out of place. Every violation of His will is known to Him. The one who has become conscious of this in himself perceives at the same time that it is known to the Lord and cannot but grieve Him. Love, which always sees the face of the Lord, cannot fail to see how it is clouded by this or that offense; and seeing this, cannot but be contrite; and being contrite, cannot but shed tears. Thus holy Peter, after his denial of the Lord—in some inexplicable moment of stupor—when his eyes met the reproachful gaze of the Lord, “went out from the courtyard of the high priest”—the place of his offense against the Lord—and “wept bitterly” (Luke 22:62).