Verses 73–80

The tenth stanza is headed by the letter ‘yod’—‘hand.’

The hand is a symbol of God’s omnipotence. He created all things, and He holds all things and provides for all things in His right hand. The content of this stanza corresponds to this. After mentioning that God created him and granted him understanding to fulfill his appointed purpose (verses Ps. 118:73, 74), the prophet then prays that the Lord would improve also his outward circumstances, to the glory of a God-pleasing life. Rightly, he says, have You humbled me, O Lord (verse Ps. 118:75); but let Your mercy be upon me and let Your compassions come to me—first, according to Your word (verse Ps. 118:76); second, that I may live (verse Ps. 118:77); third, that the proud may be put to shame (verse Ps. 118:78); fourth, that those who fear You may turn to me (verse Ps. 118:79). But above all, arrange that my heart may be blameless in Your statutes (verse Ps. 118:80).

This stanza, in its content, is very similar to the preceding one, for it considers the moral life from the same perspective.

Ps. 118:73. Your hands have made me and fashioned me: give me understanding, that I may learn Your commandments.

The prophet mentions creation not in order to expound on this subject, but to draw from this act of God support for his prayer for God’s help toward his own moral progress. I am Your creation, O Lord; and You did create me not to perish, but to be found worthy of eternal blessedness. And since for this it is necessary to fulfill Your will as expressed in the commandments, give me understanding and teach me how to do this.

By the mention of creation, the prophet brings to mind the ultimate purpose of man, and in pointing to it gives a motive for a God-pleasing life. Man was created in the image and likeness of God in order to live in a God-like manner and through that God-likeness to enter into living communion with God. God is good—be you good also; God is long-suffering—be patient yourself; God is righteous—keep righteousness yourself; God is true—love truth yourself; God is meek and lowly in heart—be you likewise; God has mercy—forgive you also; in a word, be you such as God has been pleased to show Himself. Therefore it is said: ‘Be you perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect’ (Matt. 5:48). But if we gather all these attributes of God and, accordingly, express our obligation to imitate them, the entire circle of God’s commandments will result. Thus it follows that to live in God-likeness means to live according to God’s commandments. The prophet says directly: ‘Give me understanding, and I shall learn Your commandments.’

‘Give me understanding, and I shall learn.’ You have given me reason, O Lord; but reason is not the source of truth—it is a faculty that receives truth. It cannot see all things as they ought to be on its own; but it is capable of understanding all that Your wisdom reveals to it. Such You have made it; such is mine also: give me therefore understanding; implant in my mind the comprehension of all that is needed for fulfilling Your commandments—that is, implant both the very knowledge of the commandments with the acknowledgment of their urgency, and the firm intention to live by them. Then I shall learn in actual practice how to fulfill them, and shall know by experience how blessed a life according to them is, and how directly it leads me to my ultimate purpose.

‘The prophet,’ reasons St. Ambrose, ‘begins his speech by presenting himself as a work of God’s hands, so as more easily to incline the good will of the Creator toward His creation; for although the material for our body was taken from clay, although we are clothed in flesh, bound together with bones and sinews, no one will doubt that man is the finest of God’s creatures. Look at the very structure of the body alone, and you will find that nothing can be more beautiful and well-ordered. The forms of bodily members are also excellent in other animals, but beyond that there is nothing in them worthy of praise; whereas man is excellent not in what is visible, but in what is invisible—in that which, though contained in a mortal body, is destined for eternity, and which, while dwelling in an earthly inn, lives as a citizen of heaven and is in living union with God. Therefore Solomon rightly cried out: “A great thing is man” (Prov. 20:6), for he is the interpreter of the divine creation and an imitator of God. For this reason man was created after heaven and earth had already been ordered, and not with the word “let it be,” but after a kind of divine counsel: “Let us make man in our image and after our likeness” (Gen. 1:26). God was beginning, as it were, a particular labor—not because creating great things was any different from creating small things for Him, but to show the special dignity of man. “And He breathed into his face the breath of life” (Gen. 2:7). Therefore know yourself, O man, and strive toward Him by whose breath you are inspired. Know in what your greatness consists, and be zealous to be great in that. The earthly in you is not so great, but great is that which bears within it the image of God. Unspeakably great is this privilege! See then—guard it and do not squander this great gift. How to do this, the prophet teaches you, both praying himself and teaching you to pray: “Give me understanding, and I shall learn Your commandments.” Acknowledging himself to be spiritual, he asks for the gift first among the gifts of the Spirit—the spirit of wisdom and understanding—not in order to search out heaven and earth, but to discern exactly the will of God and faithfully to fulfill it.’

Ps. 118:74. They that fear You will be glad when they see me; because I have hoped in Your word.

‘I shall be a cause of joy to the devout,’ says the prophet, ‘because I hoped in You and attained an end befitting that hope.’ So Theodoret explains this passage. ‘The prophet teaches,’ says St. Athanasius the Great, ‘that this gift will not be granted to him alone (that is, that having received understanding he will learn the commandments of God), but that it will be extended to all who fear the Lord; for one who has learned the commandments is pleasing only to the devout, who perceive him tangibly both in word and in the outlines of the wisdom he possesses; whereas to others it is burdensome even to see him, for his life is unlike the life of others and differs from their paths. Therefore he says: “they shall be glad, because I have hoped in Your word.”’

Having received understanding from the Lord, the prophet hopes that, with the help of divine wisdom, he will learn well to live according to God’s commandments—that is, will appear perfect in the moral sense. Now he says that all the God-fearing, seeing him as such, will rejoice. At what? — ‘Because I have hoped in Your word’—either at the fact that I did well to place my hope in Your words, having surrendered myself to them wholeheartedly and fulfilled them perfectly,—or at the fact that I did not hope in vain, but attained what I hoped for. Either way, it is the same. The thrust of the thought is not there, but in the fact that the God-fearing, seeing his moral progress, will rejoice. The prophet of God does not stand apart, but recognizes himself as being in union with all the God-fearing, who are ordinarily concerned not only with their own personal success, but above all with the success of others who are zealous to please God. They see the glory of God and the glory of a God-pleasing life in the fact that a God-pleasing life flourishes, that the number of those living according to God increases, and that every one who has begun his work brings it to completion without stopping halfway.

But in setting this before the Lord as an appeal for help, he makes clear that it is also pleasing to the Lord Himself to see such a common rejoicing in the progress of a good life. The Lord created us for joy; ‘there is no joy for the wicked’ (Isa. 48:22)—joy belongs only to God-fearing piety. And so the Lord, seeing how this joy spreads, takes comfort in it, for it means that His purpose in creation is being achieved. In heaven, the choirs of angels rejoice continually together as one; on earth, following their example, the community of God-fearing people likewise rejoices with a common joy. The joy of life spreads everywhere. The prophet appeals to the Lord through the consolation He has in beholding the joy of the God-fearing.

From this it is clear that not only the consciousness of living union with God, but also the consciousness of living union with all who please God is part of the spirit rightly disposed toward God—an inseparable characteristic. A certain intellectual said: I do not see this union. No wonder; for it is invisible and is formed without special efforts or seeking. In every locality, those who are similarly disposed toward God naturally come to know one another, for, seeing one another’s common strivings, they converge and rejoice together. ‘The pure,’ says St. Ambrose, ‘is naturally drawn to the pure and rejoices with him; the merciful is drawn to the generous and rejoices with him; the faster to the faster, the one who prays to the one who prays.’ Though they are not together in body, they are always inseparable in spirit. Should one of them happen to be in another place, there too he soon becomes acquainted with those of like mind and enters into one spirit with them. Another locality—another fellowship. Thus spiritual communion spreads in widening circles. One sitting in a narrow corner is in living heartfelt union with all the God-pleasing people he knows, and holds them in his thoughts more than some hold a person they are with face to face. In this fellowship lies the strength of life. Whoever considers himself alone before the face of God, let him not boast that he stands before God as he ought. God neither wills nor takes pleasure in such solitary ones. But what of the desert-dwellers? — The desert-dwellers carry the whole world in their hearts: they are not solitary in spirit.

Ps. 118:75. I know, O Lord, that Your judgments are right, and that in faithfulness You have humbled me.

It is assumed that the prophet has received wisdom, learned the commandments, entered into union with the God-fearing, and gladdened them all by his perfection. Thus this spiritual side is bright. Now he begins to pray that the Lord would bring his outward circumstances to the same level. First he acknowledges that if those circumstances have not been bright until now, there is nothing unjust in their being so: I myself am to blame; rightly, O Lord, have You humbled me. ‘The prophet,’ interprets Theodoret, ‘says this, expressing above all his own gratitude. I know full well, he says, that rightly and justly have You pronounced sentence upon me, and subjected me to all manner of tribulations.’

‘I know…’ — when was this? After he repented, after he began to live uprightly and, having asked for understanding, learned God’s commandments. And what was the case before? Before, it never even occurred to him to look at his own life from this point of view—that is, how and why the hand of the Lord was directing its course as it did. Or if the thought did come, his own sinfulness and guilt were never placed at the root and cause of why life was as it was. A sinner, while still in sin, is blind and does not see the finger of God upon him; and although he is surrounded on all sides by his sins, he does not bear in mind that in the changes of his circumstances he is bearing the punishment for those sins—rather he inclines toward the conviction that he is suffering unjustly, and is ready to murmur against the arrangements of divine Providence. So twisted is his mind! And no wonder, for through sin the enemy—the father of lies—gained access to it and fills it with his own distorted interpretations.

But when grace touches the heart of a sinner and he awakens from his sinful sleep, the fog that covered his mind begins to disperse. When repentance is completed by the resolve to live uprightly, there is already enough light around him. An upright life according to the commandments strengthens this light. When a virtuous character is fully established, the atmosphere of the mind clears, and the mind sees plainly why each thing happened in his life. Then he says with the prophet: ‘I know’—now I see clearly—‘that Your judgments are right, and in faithfulness You have humbled me.’

‘Whoever,’ writes St. Ambrose, ‘understands the ways of divine Providence can use the same words that holy David here utters. Nothing happens without God’s knowledge; all that happens, happens by His judgment. But understanding of this is brought about by what he prayed for above—that God would give understanding how to learn the commandments. Having received such understanding, he also understood the righteousness of God’s judgments. This understanding is the possession of a perfect man. It is one thing to believe and another to understand. Faith belongs to one who has received the fear of God; understanding belongs to one who is already made wise to salvation… I was humbled in order to understand this, for those who are proud of heart have no eyes to see such truth. When we are humbled, we recognize our sins, and by the very act of humbling we cleanse our falls. “I was humbled,” he says, “and He saved me” (Ps. 114:5). Truly humbled is the one who is humbled to salvation; not in vain did one undergo sorrows who was led by them to repentance. But between the understanding of this truth and the fear that brought about repentance there is a distance. The Lord says to Jews who had believed in Him: “If you abide in My word… you shall know the truth” (John 8:31–32). You see—understanding is not given from the very beginning, as soon as someone hears God’s word out of the fear of God.’

Ps. 118:76. Let, I pray You, Your merciful kindness be for my comfort, according to Your word to Your servant.

‘To Your servant’ can be related either to ‘Your word’ or to ‘let Your mercy be upon Your servant.’ The latter is better, since the former is self-evident. So St. Athanasius interprets it: ‘I beseech You that, according to Your word, Your mercy may be a comfort and encouragement to Your servant; for many, having received comfort, give themselves over to the delusion that they have obtained it by their own prudence. That I too may not fall into the same error, let Your mercy be to me, Your servant, according to Your word.’

But in what connection does this stand with what precedes? — In this one: ‘But it is time,’ says Theodoret, ‘for loving-kindness and consolation, for You have promised Your good will to those who repent. God said the very same thing through the mouth of Isaiah: “When you return and mourn, you shall be saved” (Isa. 30:15), and through the mouth of Malachi: “Return to Me, and I will return to you” (Mal. 3:7). What then is there to ask? — The mercy of consolation, according to the word of the Lord.’

One may, however, understand this also in this way: change the sorrowful and humbling circumstances that oppress me into consoling ones. The poultice has done its work—remove it now. Though the Physician of souls and bodies knows far better than we do the right time for this, it is nonetheless not inappropriate to pray for it—only not unconditionally, but with the implied understanding: if it is pleasing to You, O Lord; if it will be for my salvation—that is, to pray without stepping outside the bounds of submission to God’s will, which is the soul of a God-pleasing life. We see from experience that the Lord sometimes changes sorrow into consolation, as for example in Job; and at other times keeps a person in a humbling state to the very end of life, as we see in Lazarus, who was taken from his sore-covered body to the bosom of Abraham.

St. Ambrose holds that the prophet prays only for the mercy of consolation, not touching on the humbling circumstances and leaving it to God’s will whether to change them for the better or leave them as they are. ‘Another person,’ he says, ‘humbled by calamities, prays that temptations may cease, that the Lord may calm the raging storm of misfortunes against him; but the prophet, like a strong and courageous wrestler who has understood how adversities and sorrows raise the soul to perfection, does not wish to have the suffering removed or the adversity deflected—he does not ask to have cut off all that causes fatigue and toil, but prays that during his toilsome struggle against the storm of temptations he may be given consolation, so as to bear with courageous spirit what is brought upon him, and so as not to be weakened by the onsets of grief and despondency. Thus he implores the goodness of God not to allow that, being deprived of the help given by consolation, he might abandon without completing the good warfare he has begun. In heaven, consolation is without doubt prepared for all who endure for the sake of virtue, and the greater the sorrows endured, the greater the consolation; but here also, for fear of falling under the weight of calamities, beseech the Lord to grant you consolation, as He granted it to St. Paul, who testifies: “Blessed be God, even the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies, and the God of all comfort; Who comforts us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort them which are in any trouble, by the comfort wherewith we ourselves are comforted of God” (2 Cor. 1:3–4).’

But one cannot fail to see that, beyond spiritual consolation, the prophet also expects outward consolation, as the course of the speech itself suggests. Below he says that he wishes his enemies to see this and be put to shame, and that the God-fearing likewise turn toward him (verses Ps. 118:78–79). Both of these are possible only when the consolation is not merely poured into the heart, but also outwardly manifested.

Ps. 118:77. Let Your tender mercies come to me, that I may live; for Your law is my delight.

‘The prophet,’ says Theodoret, ‘deprived of God’s good will, considers himself as dead; therefore he entreats that he may, as it were, live again through God’s love for mankind.’ ‘Let come,’ interprets Zigabenus, ‘O Lord, Your mercies upon me, who am consumed by sorrow, and I shall live by them; let them come upon me because the subject of my constant thought and care is Your law, and not any good thing of this world.’

‘Mercies’—tender compassion that bestows good, not only as good will but as one that shows generosity by actual deeds. ‘Let come’—mercy, as said above, ‘let be, and tender mercies let come’—mercy as a constant covering, and tender mercies as the intermittent bestowal of needed goods that come and go. ‘And I shall live’—and I shall revive. Just as one says ‘he came to life’ of one who was struck down by grief and then gladdened, or of one who was impoverished and grows rich again, or who was dishonored and is restored to honor—so also the prophet asks for mercies in order to revive in the feelings of the heart. This revival here, like the preceding mercy of consolation, stands in the prophet’s thought in opposition to the humbling or belittling circumstances righteously sent by God, as he confessed above. Therefore, in the course of the speech, they refer to the restoration of the outward circumstances of the one who has repented and reformed. That it is fitting to ask for this also is clear from the Lord’s Prayer, in which, alongside the highest spiritual goods, stands—‘Give us this day our daily bread’ (Matt. 6:11). But in doing so one must bear in mind: if the Lord so wills. If You see, O Lord, that such and such is beneficial for my salvation, then grant it to me. It is absolutely fitting to ask only for spiritual goods—repentance, the preservation of the resolve to live well, understanding of God’s will, prayer, patience, and the like. For outward goods, one should always pray conditionally, or better still—committing one’s circumstances to the will of God.

And ‘I shall live’—one may understand, as St. Ambrose understood ‘let it comfort me’ in the previous verse, also as the enlivening of the patient spirit of courage. Straitened circumstances produce two kinds of effects: they bring on grief and undermine energy. In the previous verse the prophet prayed for the mercy of consolation, which drives away grief; and here he prays for the revival of energy. Let everything remain as it is, he seems to say—let me continue under the humbling burden, but my hands are drooping, my courage is weakening: breathe into me then unshakeable steadfastness and fearless cheerfulness of heart, so that both I myself may feel, and others may see, that however straitened my circumstances, I am in no way weakening in moral strength, but am still the same, still stepping out just as boldly into the struggle against privations and sorrows.

‘For Your law is my delight.’ Here the prophet bases his hope that his prayer will be heard. My thoughts are taken up with nothing else, he says, but Your law; my only concern is how to fulfill it better; and by Your judgment, blessed are those whose delight is in Your law, who meditate on it day and night. Have You not said: ‘I love them that love Me, and those who seek Me shall find grace’ (Prov. 8:17)? ‘Therefore,’ adds St. Athanasius, ‘as You have promised consolation, so do, showing compassion upon Your servants.’

For the mercy of consolation the prophet prayed as a servant; for the mercies of enlivening he prays as a zealot of the law. Both together teach that those who may come before God with petitions in prayer with well-grounded hope are only those who diligently serve and strive in every way to please Him. We often complain that our prayer is not heard: we did not serve God—and so our prayer is not heard.

Ps. 118:78. Let the proud be put to shame; for they dealt perversely with me without a cause: but I will meditate in Your precepts.

By ‘the proud’ the prophet means the despisers of the law, who, not loving the law, do not love its zealous observers either—they despise them, mock them, and do not hesitate to cause them all manner of harm. Seeing those who are zealous to please God by keeping His commandments in a humbling position, they attack them and their way of life all the more fiercely. This is what it means to deal perversely and unlawfully with them. The prophet prays: take away from them, O Lord, this occasion to speak contemptuously of the law and to treat its observers in the same way. Restore to me a bright condition and thereby put an end to their triumph. Let it be plainly evident before all that Your servants do not keep Your law in vain, and let these proud men, who openly revile Your law before all, be put to shame. All who see the change for the better in me will, instead of having previously looked with an unfriendly eye at me and at Your law, thereafter look contemptuously at those same proud men and mock them.

External shaming may or may not be accompanied by shame before oneself and one’s own conscience; it may leave unchanged the former attitude toward the law and its zealots. But in the prophet’s words one can also see the further desire that the proud should be ashamed of having been as they were, should change and correct both their view of the law and their life in relation to it.

‘The prophet,’ says blessed Theodoret, ‘does not curse his enemies, but prays for them, for shame opens the way to salvation. Having himself benefited from such a remedy, he wishes them to have it as well.’ St. Ambrose continues the same thought: ‘Having been healed, he has become a physician and wishes to heal even those who wounded him, so that, recognizing their own wrongdoing, they may be ashamed of their evil deeds. Shame for the most part serves our correction. When a person begins to be ashamed of some action of his, by that very fact he is moved to abandon what causes shame. This is precisely what the prophet wishes for them—namely, that they should recognize how badly they have acted, and recognizing it, be ashamed, and being ashamed, abandon their former wrongdoings.’ St. Athanasius develops the same thought: ‘If,’ he says, ‘You change my lot for the better, the proud will be put to shame, and I will not be puffed up that they are shamed, but “I will meditate in Your precepts.” This will not weaken my zeal to please You by fulfilling Your commandments, but will, on the contrary, strengthen it. “I will meditate”—I will sit beside them, I will redouble my diligence and labor, I will be so persistently occupied with it as one who is assiduously engaged in a beloved occupation. When the straitness passes away, my hands will seem to be freed. The strength that was spent on bearing the burden lying upon me I will turn toward the fulfillment of the law: I will study it more, devise greater means for its fulfillment and its application to life in my improved circumstances.’ The prophet is preparing a resolution for action, so that when what he asked for comes, he will be ready to act thus, and will not say to his soul: ‘Soul, you have much goods laid up for many years; take your ease, eat, drink, and be merry’ (Luke 12:19).

Ps. 118:79. Let those who fear You turn to me, and those who know Your testimonies.

Blessed Theodoret reads this passage as ‘let them turn to me,’ and expresses the meaning of the text thus: ‘The prophet entreats that he may once again be in unity and have fellowship with the righteous. More clearly,’ he notes, ‘Symmachus expressed this: let those who fear You bring me back—bring me back, that is, to themselves; let them receive me, that is, into brotherly fellowship.’

‘Let them turn to me.’ Since he presents himself as already turned from sin to virtue, and not only turned but also having advanced on this path, the meaning of such a turning is no longer fitting here. It is therefore better to understand this word as: ‘let them turn to me’—turn back to me. They cast me out for my sins, as unworthy of their company; my humbling condition turned me onto the path of virtue, but it also concealed my reformation—or if it could not conceal it, since reformation is transparent, it could not fail to cast doubt on whether I had been received back into Your favor. The righteous would have been ready to enter into fellowship with me, but, judging from my unsettled circumstances that I stood under Your wrath and disfavor, they did not dare. When You change my lot for the better, the righteous will see that You have returned Your good will to me and turned me back to Yourself, and they will call to me, receive me, turn to me with open arms, and once again enter into brotherly heartfelt union with me.

The righteous do not break off visible fellowship even with those who have fallen into sin; on the contrary, they enter into the person’s situation and strive in every way to bring them back onto the path of righteousness. But intimacy between them naturally ceases, since those who have fallen now have different conversations, different thoughts, different occupations. The righteous find it difficult to carry on conversation with them: the righteous converse only about what is in their hearts—about God and pleasing God—while sinners talk about everything worldly. They find each other’s company wearisome, and so sincere fellowship between them naturally ceases of its own accord. But when the sinner turns, the righteous cannot fail to see this, to rejoice in it, and to help strengthen him in the good path. Yet, taught by the experience of his fall, they keep themselves somewhat at a distance—that is, they do not immediately begin to live as one soul with him, sharing with him the secrets of their hearts, the secrets of the spiritual life. When he has already shown clear proof that he is firmly established on the good path, then they too turn to him with an open heart. All this proceeds according to the straightforward laws of relations between souls. The prophet sets the return of God’s mercies to him as the sign that he has fully reformed. When they return, the righteous will also turn to him—not for the sake of the return of mercies, but for the sake of the moral perfection of which that return is the sign.

‘Those who fear You and know Your testimonies’—that is, not only the God-fearing, but those who are also experienced in the fulfillment of the law and who truly know all the mysteries of life according to God. Here it is deliberately added: ‘who know Your testimonies,’ to indicate the point on which heartfelt fellowship is once again established—fellowship based on mutual sharing of the secrets of a God-pleasing life for mutual edification in spirit and assistance to one another in advancing in the spiritual life.

Ps. 118:80. Let my heart be blameless in Your statutes, that I may not be put to shame.

In the moral life there are two sides: good conduct and blamelessness of heart. Good conduct is not difficult to direct and maintain, but to acquire and preserve a blameless heart is a great labor. Everything the Lord has arranged for our salvation amounts to this: that the heart should become blameless. Its blamability consists of the passions that have taken root in it. Though they are unnatural, they have entered deeply into us and have taken their place alongside the natural needs, so that making the heart blameless is the same as remaking it. Obviously, no one can do this except the Creator. He has done everything to this end: He established the means of justification, granted new life, filled us with powers, instituted the sanctifying and corrective rites, established fatherly guidance. Grace comes and lays the foundation of blamelessness; then the labors of self-opposition and self-correction, under the guidance of the sanctifying rites, drive out the passions one by one and plant good dispositions in their place. At the end of these labors the heart appears wholly blameless, filled with all the fruits of the Spirit that St. Paul mentions: ‘love, joy, peace, longsuffering, kindness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance’ (Gal. 5:22–23), or such as the Lord portrays in the Beatitudes: contrite and humble, meek, loving righteousness, merciful, pure, peacemaking, patient, hopeful. A blameless heart is not only free from everything blameworthy, but full of every goodness—it is good.

‘That I may not be put to shame.’ The prophet does not mention where or how he should ‘not be put to shame.’ The nearest form of not being put to shame comes during the rising of inner conflicts. The enemy raises a storm of thoughts and evil movements, but when the heart is blameless and good, these onslaughts, approaching from without, meet in the good dispositions rooted in the heart—which are contrary to those onslaughts—a powerful repulse: anger is repulsed by meekness, pride and vainglory by contrition and humility, impurity by purity, covetousness by uprightness and mercy, offenses by patience—and whatever evil impulse approaches, it will find in the heart’s contrary good disposition a resistance to itself. However cunning the enemy may be, he cannot overcome one whose heart is blameless: the latter will never be put to shame before the former.

The second moment of not being put to shame is the time of death and the passing through the toll-houses. However wild the thought of toll-houses may seem to the intellectuals, passing through them is unavoidable. What do these toll-collectors seek in those who pass by? They look for whether the traveler has any of their wares. And what are their wares? The passions. Therefore, whoever has a blameless heart free from the passions—in such a person they can find nothing to which they might attach themselves; on the contrary, the goodness opposite to their wares will strike them as lightning bolts. On this a not inconsiderable learned man expressed the following thought: the toll-houses present themselves as something frightful; but it is quite possible that the demons, instead of something frightful, present something alluring and deceptive. They present the enticing and alluring, in all the forms of the passions, to the passing soul, one thing after another. When the passions have been driven from the heart during earthly life and the contrary virtues have been planted in their place, then, whatever alluring thing is presented, the soul, having no sympathy whatsoever for it, passes by, turning from it with loathing. But when the heart is not cleansed, then to whatever passion it still harbors the greatest sympathy, the soul rushes toward it there. The demons take hold of it, as if they were friends, and then they know where to take it. It is therefore very doubtful whether a soul, as long as sympathies for the objects of any passions remain in it, will not be put to shame at the toll-houses. To be put to shame there means that the soul itself rushes into hell.

But the final not-being-put-to-shame is at the Last Judgment, before the face of the all-seeing Judge, before the assembly of angels and all the saints. This picture all of God’s righteous ones had constantly in mind and strove in every way to keep the mind fixed on that moment when from the lips of the Judge there shall come forth: ‘Depart,’ or ‘Come,’—so that in it they might have a motive for guarding themselves not only from manifest sins, but from sinful thoughts and feelings. This alone burned away all that was evil in them and planted all that was good. Therefore there is no doubt that in the prophet’s words at this point what is chiefly intended is this last not-being-put-to-shame, for the thought of it is the best means for planting blamelessness in the heart.