Verses 9–16

The exposition of the verses of the first octave proceeded without any straining, as everyone can see. This leads one to think that the unity of content they present is not accidental but intentional—that is, these verses were written and selected so as to express one thing: the principal foundations of the holy life. Although a conclusion from this one octave to the remaining twenty-one is not overly compelling, we cannot refrain from supposing that perhaps in them too, for all the apparent diversity of the verses’ content, one thought is always carried through, and that it is hinted at by the significance of the letter with which they begin. We make an attempt with the second octave.

The second letter “bet” means “house.” We suppose that in its verses it is indicated what kind of house we must prepare for the commandments—where and how to give them rest within ourselves. Guided by this thought, we may acknowledge that the first verse indicates as the house for receiving the commandments the whole of human nature, and especially in youth, when it has not yet had time to become corrupted; while the subsequent verses indicate, in particular, the various faculties of the soul: the will—verse 10; the heart—verse 11; the mind—verse 12; speech—verse 13; feeling and taste—verse 14; reason—verse 15; memory—verse 16. In the very course of explanation it will become more evident how this is so. And that the faculties of the soul may have precisely such a function in the spiritual life is indicated in Proverbs, where it says to the student of wisdom: “And do you write them” (the commandments) “for yourself three times, for counsel, understanding, and knowledge” (that is, upon these three powers and actions of the soul, and in general) “upon the breadth of your heart” (Prov. 22:21). This writing signifies an imprinting, a reception within, as into a house.

Ps. 118:9. How shall a young man cleanse his way? By keeping Your words.

He has not yet had time to live, and already he needs correction. This, however, does not mean that the prophet assumes youthful depravity here; rather, it means that youth is such an age that is ready for anything—swift-moving and unrestrained in its impulses. He advises that these impulses be quickly seized and given a good direction. By what means? — By God’s commandments. Let the commandments be to a young person what a bridle is to spirited horses.

By the word of God, “from youth the imagination of man’s heart is evil” (Gen. 6:5) without guidance; but if he is guided, then against evil thoughts good ones will always arise, and if a young person is given even a small habit in goodness, the good will overcome the evil. The Wise Man says: “Foolishness is bound up in the heart of a young man” (Prov. 22:15). Like a weight, it pulls him toward what is bad—the agitation of desires combined with a superficial understanding of life and the consequences of various deeds. It is possible to cut off this weight and attach another, which will pull him in the opposite direction with no less force.

People sometimes wrongly say: “Oh, youth—it will pass!” But experience to the contrary exists both within us and before us. It is time we came to our senses! They say that clay vessels permanently retain the smell of the first substance that saturated them. Such too is man in the moral regard. The direction and habits of the first years either remain or make themselves felt throughout all of life. This is not to say that one who received a good direction cannot go astray, or that one badly directed cannot be corrected—grace is powerful enough to transform even the latter, while sin, through negligence, can corrupt even the former; but a well-formed young man, when he strays accidentally, has within himself many calls and cries—in his conscience and in his early habits—that admonish and restrain him. And how many conditions must be met for him to remain in evil permanently! Such persons quickly come to their senses, and when they do, they quickly succeed in correcting and rebuilding what was destroyed. Those badly formed—especially when, along with passionate inclinations, their very understanding is also corrupted—cannot return to the path of good except through the special workings of God’s grace, and even then always through painful upheavals and breaks. But since there is no law governing such workings, for they depend on the freedom of God, and since their full influence on a person is subject to many-sided conditions, we see that very rarely does anyone among those badly formed from the start return to good. And if anyone by God’s grace does turn back, both the beginning of this conversion is painful and all subsequent life is filled with struggles. True, grace can do all things. We have the radiant examples of Moses the Ethiopian, David the Robber, Mary of Egypt, and others. But it is better not to tempt God’s grace, because its ways are unsearchable.

The wise Sirach teaches thus: “My son, from your youth choose instruction, and even until old age you shall find wisdom” (Sir. 6:18). Good principles, once received, if they are strictly adhered to, will with the passage of life grow ever stronger, expand in their applications, and in the end will occupy all the wellsprings of life and embrace all its movements and manifestations. In old age such a man is perfect, powerful in word and deed. What a rich inheritance!… “But what you have not gathered in youth, how will you find it in old age?” (Sir. 25:5) Thus it is good if a person “from youth takes upon himself the yoke of the commandments” (Lam. 3:27). Let us therefore pray to the Giver of every good thing, “that He may give to the simple prudence, and to the young child perception and understanding” (Prov. 1:4).

Here are the opinions of the holy fathers and teachers of the Church on this matter. Blessed Theodoret says: “Youth is unstable and easily inclined to vice, since it is tossed about by various waves of the passions; therefore it has need of a guide who would direct it to harbor. And this is the property of the words of God, for they, turning us away from contrary paths, are sufficient to set us on the divine path. What a bridle and a rider are to a young horse, the word of God is to a young man.”

Saint Ambrose writes: “We must not only take up the yoke of the word, but take it up in youth. If we take it up late, we shall have to bear more the cleansing labors of repentance for the past than to enjoy grace in the present. Let us forestall this by spending the years of youth in seemly uprightness, so that each of us in old age may, when the occasion arises, say with a good conscience: ‘God, who has nourished me from my youth up to this day’ (Gen. 48:15), rather than lamenting with pain of heart the falls of the past and crying out: ‘Remember not the sins of my youth and my ignorance’ (Ps. 24:7). The latter heals his infirmities, while the former confesses the power of health. To him who takes up the yoke of the good life after the years of youth have passed, the good to be accomplished is not given at once, because passions inflame him, sinful habits unsettle him, and wayward paths prevent him from being steadfast. Such a person must struggle long before he can suppress and root out the evil sown in youth and grown old.” Saint Hilary teaches: “It is difficult to break away from habits, to tear oneself from that with which one has grown intimate, and to sever the bonds of companionship. It is better to appear before God pure not through the forgiveness of sins, but through sheer ignorance of evil (inexperience of the passions). Knowing this, the prophet Jeremiah, in taking up the yoke of the commandments, does not wait for the years of cooled old age, when passions are already dying out of themselves through satiety. He desires a long-serving soldier; he desires this so that the servant of Christ may not even recall ever having been overcome by sin. In one who takes up the good life only in old age there is, to be sure, the gift of gracious forgiveness of falls, but there is not the consolation which a good conscience affords through the memory of labors undertaken.”

So necessary is it for a young man to correct his path early! He can succeed in this, as the prophet indicates, by keeping the commandments, or the statutes of God. To keep them does not mean, says Blessed Augustine, to memorize and retain them in memory, but to fulfill them in deed. Let every member of body and soul take its commandment and be so thoroughly imbued with it that from now on it cannot move otherwise than in accordance with that very commandment. Each member will then become the repository and home of its commandment, and the whole of human nature will become the home of all the commandments. In this way a young man will naturally set his path aright and at the same time give it a good direction for all the subsequent time of his life, which has only just begun.

Ps. 118:10. With my whole heart I have sought You: O cast me not away from Your commandments.

The heart that seeks the Lord is, in particular, the first house within our nature for the commandments. The heart is spoken of in the following verse as well, but not in the same sense. It should be known that in antiquity the heart denoted the entire inner life; therefore, in order to distinguish which particular aspect of this life is meant by it in any given place, one must attend to what is attributed to it. In the present place, seeking, striving, and activity are attributed to it. The active power in the soul is the will—the faculty of deeds, undertakings, and initiatives. Observe yourself from the moment of waking until falling asleep, and you will see that just as the mind is constantly occupied with thoughts, so too the will is occupied with deeds and undertakings; not a moment passes without some action: now one thing, now another. But one may act haphazardly, without discernment, and one may act rationally, in accordance with definite goals; one may act by self-pleasing and people-pleasing, and one may act in accordance with the demands of duty, the commandments, the will of God. The prophet directs all his actions by the commandments, as is evident from the petition he adds: “cast me not away from Your commandments.” And the goal of following the commandments in all things he makes the seeking of the Lord; he says: “With all my undertakings and actions of the will, which I always strive to conduct according to Your commandments, I seek You alone, O Lord.” Deeds and undertakings are the outward activity; the inner side of each deed and undertaking is the commandment of which they are the expression; and the soul of all deeds and undertakings is the seeking of the Lord.

Thus the first house of the commandments is the undertakings of the will. I recall the answer of Saint Anthony to the question “how to be saved?”: “Whatever you do,” he said among other things, “have a testimony from Scripture for it.” This is tantamount to saying: whatever you do, do it with the awareness that God’s commandment requires it; and moreover, whatever you do—whether you eat or drink—do all to the glory of God, as the Apostle commanded (1 Cor. 10:31). And how to ensure that everything we do accords with the commandments, attention and discernment will teach us—those very things spoken of in the previous octave. Sit down and reflect, and in the light of God’s commandments determine how you should act in all the circumstances and contingencies of your own life, and then do not deviate from these determinations; and you will always walk according to the commandments and in God’s will, you will please God in all things, great and small, draw near to Him, seek Him—and at last you will find Him.

Having thus made it a law for himself to conduct every step, every deed and undertaking according to the commandments, the prophet prays: “Cast me not away from Your commandments.” What thought is contained here? Can it really be that God drives someone away from His commandments? — Yes, it is possible even with regard to God’s commandments to conduct oneself as some people conduct themselves with regard to the temple. People are called into the temple of God, not driven out of it. Yet some had placed themselves in such a relation to it that the Savior—embodied meekness—was compelled to take a whip and drive them out of the temple. Let us imagine that the cultivation of the commandments is like the cultivation of a vineyard; laborers are invited and they work; but the master comes and, noticing that one of them does less work than he causes damage, says to him: “You, brother, go away from here; I do not want you to work, for you only cause harm.” And he will say this with even greater emphasis if the laborer has more than once already proven himself a poor workman. So it is with regard to the commandments: there are workers who are not ashamed, and there are workers who are good for nothing—sometimes lazy, sometimes omitting much of what is required, sometimes working not for the Lord but out of self-pleasing, or more often out of people-pleasing; sometimes working carelessly, any old way, sometimes with murmuring and discontent, sometimes with pride and self-satisfaction. All such workers only damage the work rather than do it, and are truly worthy of rejection. How then are they rejected? — Not with a whip, of course, but by the withdrawal of God’s good will. True workers of the commandments receive interior consolations, feel God’s covering over themselves, and experience God’s assistance; the negligent workers, however, are deprived of all this, and being deprived of it are no longer able to fulfil the commandments, and consequently fall away entirely and abandon themselves to vices. Thus “cast me not away from Your commandments” is the same as—do not deprive me of Your good will and Your gracious help, for if You do, it will be for me the same as being driven away from working the commandments.

Why then did the prophet express his thought in this way? — This expression is taken from the feelings of a penitent. A penitent—especially one who has fallen and broken his vows to God more than once—when approaching God cannot help but be aware of his own negligence, and although he believes in God’s mercy toward the penitent, he cannot help sometimes coming to the thought: “But what if God no longer wishes to receive me, has lost faith in me, and pays me no attention no matter how hard I try?” Such thoughts are especially natural when for a long time no fruit of repentance is visible. “He has forsaken me,” a person thinks, “He does not wish to look upon me with His merciful eye!” But God does this in order to more strongly kindle the feelings of repentance and from them forge an even stronger resolution to be always a faithful fulfiller of His commandments.

The entire verse may be paraphrased thus: “You, O Lord, require that we conduct all our deeds and undertakings according to Your commandments, and that in this manner of action we have in mind nothing other than the gaining of You alone. Whoever does not act thus You do not receive, and no help do You render him. Behold, I with my whole heart, with all the deeds and undertakings of my will—which I all conduct according to Your commandments—seek You alone: do not then deprive me of Your good will and Your gracious help, for otherwise I shall be worn out and give up. I have that which is required of me; deprive me not of that which You have promised from Yourself.” This resembles what the Lord said: “To everyone who has, more will be given, and he will have abundance; but from him who has not, even what he seems to have will be taken away” (Matt. 25:29). Saints Ambrose and Hilary at length expound precisely this thought. The resolution to be always faithful to the commandments and in their fulfillment to seek the Lord alone makes the soul a strong vessel, worthy of receiving God’s grace—which to those who have such a disposition is always given, and by its power causes them to be always, in actual deed, faithful to the commandments, just as at the outset they desired to be faithful to Him only in intention. This disposition is like a magnet attracting greater things, or like a capital with which all that is needed can be purchased in abundance.

Ps. 118:11. Your word have I hidden in my heart, that I might not sin against You.

The heart, resting within itself as the power of love, is in particular the second house in our nature for the commandments. One may fulfil the commandments officially; one may fulfil them by calculation or by the rigorist dictates of reason, without the heart’s participation in all such cases. The prophet says here: “I do not act that way; the commandments are not for me an external governing authority—they are within me; I have received them into my heart and have come to love them. Acting according to them, I act according to my heart; and acting according to my heart, I act according to them.”

If we also consider the Savior’s parable of the seed of the word, then the present passage expresses not the seed that fell by the wayside or on stony ground, but that which fell on good earth and brought forth fruit a hundred, sixty, and thirty times over. “Hidden in the depths of the heart,” says Saint Athanasius the Great, “it fears neither being stolen by the enemy, nor—having sprouted—being scorched by the heat of trials and adversities.” It has sunk its roots deep, and the sprout of God-pleasing activity that comes from it is full of life and strength. What member is more tender than the heart? And yet nothing is more reliable than what proceeds from the heart. When the commandments are in the heart, their fulfilment goes on without omission and moreover in the most seemly and attractive manner.

What great perfection it is to have the commandments hidden in the heart! One must know, however, that this is not accomplished as quickly as it is said, or even as quickly as the desire for it is formed. The heart is more closely attuned to the passionate side. For it to be transformed—detaching itself from that side and turning entirely to the commandments—it must be reformed: something must be uprooted from it and something else implanted. The commandment says: be humble-minded, meek, truth-loving, pure, peaceable, patient, and so on; but the heart now prides itself and is vainglorious, now grows angry and hates, now becomes attached and lusts, now quarrels and murmurs, and so on. While it remains such, one cannot say that the commandments are hidden in it, for if they were, not only deeds but also feelings and thoughts contrary to the commandments would not exist within.

How then is the heart to be transformed? — With ardent desire, through labor and patience. But it must be noted that the labor is ours, while the actual work of transformation is from grace. From the very beginning, as soon as someone resolves to work out his salvation through a God-pleasing life, conscience immediately undertakes the fulfilment of every commandment, one and all, great and small, and demands this from the whole person and from all his powers or members to which a given commandment pertains. The usual course of our actions is this: thought, sympathy, desire, deed. Sympathy stands at the transition to desire, and desire precedes deed. Suppose that someone in need comes; conscience immediately demands that he be helped, but the heart—not yet knowing the sweetness of doing good and not yet detached from love of gain—does not show the requisite sympathy and goes contrary. Because there is no sympathy, no desire is born; and without desire, the hands have dropped. So it is in this case, and so in all others. The heart is by nature pleasure-seeking. Until it has tasted sweetness in something, it cannot have sympathy toward it. A person has had no proper practice in fulfilling the commandments—and so the heart does not know the sweetness in it; and therefore, even when a person has already resolved to do everything according to the commandments, the heart shows no sympathy toward this, and so cuts off even the acts done according to the commandments, and consequently deprives itself of the possibility of tasting the sweetness of fulfilling the commandments. What is to be done? — At first, one must act contrary to the heart, by the sole demand of conscience, by the force of rational will supported by the grace of God, bending oneself, so to speak, to the doing of the commandments, as one bends a heated reed when it is necessary to do so. Saint Macarius the Great repeatedly gives the lesson that whoever wishes to succeed in doing good must compel himself to every good deed, contrary to the heart, assuring us that a deed which we do at first with self-compulsion will become dear to the heart, and we will begin to do it out of heartfelt sympathy with it, because it has come to find pleasure in it.

Acting thus in relation to one, then another, then a third commandment—the fulfilment of which will be encountered in the course of our life—a person accustoms the heart to find sweetness in them, and plants in it sympathy for them; or, what is the same thing, he instills the commandments themselves into the heart and hides them in it. The more labors and experiences in the fulfilment of the commandments, the greater the number of them that pass into the heart; and in the end they all find a dwelling there. Such a person may then confess: “In my heart I have hidden all the commandments.”

“So then, these are all one’s own labors—but where is grace?” — The labors are truly one’s own, but it is grace that produces the fruit. Grace is present in a person from the moment of conversion and the reception of the sacraments of baptism or repentance, but it enters into his very being and penetrates his powers only in proportion to the straining of the person’s own efforts. When a person has done everything that is his to do, then grace comes and accomplishes what he is not capable of doing. To graft a commandment onto the heart so that it remains there permanently and governs the heart itself—this is already the work of grace. The person himself, however much he may labor, cannot do this. Thus, with all the person’s labors, the transformation of the heart is accomplished by grace, and by grace alone. This is where the essential difference between a Christian and a pagan lies.

But without labors and struggles in fulfilling the commandments, grace will not graft anything onto the heart either, leaving it as it was—with all its passionate tastes and inclinations—even though such a person is baptized and receives the other sacraments. This is where the difference lies between Christians who pursue laborious struggles and Christians who do not consider it necessary to constrain themselves, though they conduct themselves honorably! The law of the spiritual life is this: whatever has no struggle behind it, grace does not give; yet with struggle alone one will not succeed in anything either.

When, in this manner, all the commandments have been grafted onto the heart, so that they form its essential content, then the heart—together with conscience—will itself begin to demand their fulfilment. As at first it opposed conscience in everything, so now it will second its demands and draw one toward the deeds prescribed by a given commandment. This is why the prophet said that he had hidden the words of God in his heart, so as not to sin before Him. The heart itself, says Zigabenus, no longer allows it. The prophet indicates that he has adopted the most reliable means of not offending God by transgressing His commandments; and through this he also exhorts all: “If you wish not to provoke the Lord to anger with sins—hide His commandments in your heart.” But here, of course, is also implied the lesson that if you desire to attain this, you must employ those methods that spiritual experience has confirmed to those who have labored in this work.

Ps. 118:12. Blessed are You, O Lord: teach me Your statutes.

The third house within our nature for the commandments is the God-taught mind. Teach — give understanding, impart also the skill to act, give my mind knowledge of the commandments and everything pertaining to them, and the ability to see how in each case I ought to act, so that my mind may be a light illumining the paths of life and a faithful guide along them; and especially be pleased that my mind have no wavering vacillations or conjectural opinions, but that everything be established on unshakeable convictions.

“Teach me the statutes”—or the commandments. When one acts, one may have certain commandments in view; but when one wishes to know the commandments, one cannot limit one’s vision to the commandments alone—one must necessarily survey the entire domain of truth, so that the commandments in the mind are not suspended from nothing, or not poured into it like sand, without connection, but enter as a necessary element into the composition of truth and are joined to it by a living bond—so that one cannot touch one without at the same time shaking everything else.

In Christianity the paths of life are illumined by the truths concerning the tri-hypostatic Deity, Creator and Providence; concerning the fall; concerning God’s good will to restore the fallen; concerning the condescension of the Only-begotten Son of God to earth through the Incarnation; concerning His accomplishment of our salvation through His sufferings, death, resurrection, and ascension; concerning the sending of the Divine Spirit upon the holy apostles who established the Church of Christ on earth and instituted in it the sacraments for the sanctification by grace of all believers; and finally, concerning the resurrection, the judgment, and the future all-blessedness of the faithful and the indescribable torments of the unfaithful. All these truths are to the spirit what air is to the body. As air, received by the lungs, passes through the whole body in the blood and vivifies all, so too these truths, being received by the believing mind, pass through the entire composition of the spiritual life and vivify everything in it. From them this life is born, by them it is guided, and in them it beholds its end.

The spiritual life begins with the consciousness of the fall and the impossibility of rising by oneself. This leads to repentance and cleaves one to the Lord as the one Savior. From this come the vow and the resolution to be faithful to Him and to wage unrelenting war against everything that rises up within and meets one from without, contrary to what the Savior requires of us. From this comes hope that, despite the weakness of our nature, the Lord will lead the believer through all temptations and bring him at last into His eternal Kingdom. From this come patience and a merciless labor upon oneself in the cleansing and correction of what is not right, so as to present oneself in all things as a workman who need not be ashamed. From this comes faith that, by thus suffering together with the Lord, one shares in His luminous life even here, though still in a beginning and prefiguration. All this flows from the foundational truths of Christianity and constitutes the basis of the God-pleasing life. Here is the essence of our Christian statutes, and from here the entire system of Christian commandments is ultimately developed.

One will say: “But who does not know this, and why the prayer ‘teach me’?” — But there is bore, purely intellectual knowledge that never rises beyond conjectural views, and there is living, life-giving knowledge in which every truth is as firm as the certainty of one’s own existence. This property is communicated to it by living conviction, which not even death shakes. Praying teach me, the prophet asks that the Lord make all truths—both theoretical and practical—so native to his very being that just as he cannot doubt his own existence by so much as a hair, so he may never be capable of admitting within himself the shadow of a doubt regarding these truths. Herein lies the stability of the God-pleasing life. Just as one cannot walk on a thin, swaying plank, because one’s head will spin and one will fall, so one who has perpetually arising conjectures in his head—“But what if this is how it ought to be? Would it not be better like this? But this is also possible!” — cannot lead a proper life. And one who, having been completely shaken in certain truths, thinks to arrange a God-pleasing life according to his own notions, resembles a man who, building a house, lays rotten logs among the sound ones. From the outside such a house looks both new and solid, but in reality it is already doomed to fall; just so is such a life—outwardly good only in appearance, yet already carrying within itself its own condemnation. Thus this is the essence of the petition! The prophet asks that there be no vacillations in him, but that he may walk amid these truths like a man who, stepping out into the street, feels that the ground beneath him is there and that he stands on it firmly, that everything surrounding him is there, that the sky above him is there—and the thought cannot come to him that any of this might not exist. But how does the prophet ask this after having already hidden the words of the Lord in his heart and conducting all his undertakings according to the commandments, seeking the Lord alone? One cannot act thus without the knowledge for which he is asking only now. But in those good habits of his—in conducting all deeds and undertakings by the commandments and in his love for them—did he become established all at once? Approaching the service of the Lord, he had neither the one nor the other; but conscious of the necessity for it, he no doubt prayed: “Lord, grant me to conduct all my deeds according to Your commandments! Lord, incline my heart to love Your commandments!” The Lord heard his prayer and granted what he asked. There he expresses what he has already acquired at the end of his labors, while here he points to what occurs at the beginning of seeking this good—knowledge with conviction. He is as it were suggesting: “I said — I sought, I hid… — but let no one think that all this happened suddenly—no; labor and prayer preceded it. The matter proceeded in the way I am about to express with regard to the acquisition of knowledge: ‘Blessed are You, O Lord; teach me Your statutes.’”

By this last good the mind is transformed, and by the first two—the will and the heart. The sequence is remarkable! It is taken from life. The mind alone never fully knows the truth; truth is always before it in the form of conjectural views. Except in extraordinary workings of God upon the soul, the God-pleasing life usually also begins in such a state of the mind. But then, together with life, these views begin to pass into living convictions—they mature, multiply, and expand in proportion to the habit of the will in conducting all its deeds and undertakings according to the commandments, and in proportion to the regeneration of the heart’s sympathies toward the commandments. When the latter are fulfilled—fullness is established in the former as well. Strictly speaking, however, one cannot say which comes first and which follows: they all mature together, not falling behind one another. And it is the Lord who builds this interior edifice by His grace, with every possible effort on the part of the person—sparing himself nothing—building a dwelling into which He at last comes and settles, with the Father and the Holy Spirit, as He Himself promised: “We will come to him and make Our home with him” (John 14:23).

Ps. 118:13. With my lips have I declared all the judgments of Your mouth.

This is the fourth house within our nature for God’s commandments—speech, for speech is the house of thought and feeling. Since within the prophet everything is already occupied with God’s commandments, and since the lips utter only what is within, then however a conversation of his may begin, it naturally goes entirely about God’s commandments. “I declared”—I have declared, I declare, and I will declare. I am such a person that I am continually declaring and cannot speak of anything other than Your judgments; even about outside matters I reason in the same spirit.

The prophet speaks here as of something already established in him, giving us a lesson as to what manner of speech to maintain when we meet one another and converse with each other. If in the Old Testament the things of God so powerfully occupied the God-fearing soul, how much more ought they to occupy the Christian, when God has shown us an incomparably greater and more palpable drawing near in the Incarnation of God the Word and in the sending of the Holy Spirit, whose powers operate in us by the faith of believers! But is this the case in reality? Let some slightly notable event occur in everyday or civic life—we cannot be silenced, speaking of nothing else, even if it has nothing to do with us; but the wonderful work of salvation, arranged by God for our sake and destined to operate in each of us, occupies us not at all. Go around an entire city on purpose—and you will nowhere hear a word about it, and if you yourself introduce the subject, people will try to suppress it and turn the conversation to some other topic. Thus, if we are judged by that sure principle that out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks, one might think that in our hearts there is complete emptiness and that the work of God has not taken hold in them and has left no trace. What then is our baptism? What are the so many times repeated fastings, confessions, and receptions of the Holy Mysteries? What are our attendances at the temples of God and all our prayers? — It seems it is not accepted, one is ashamed! — And yet a king, occupied with governing a people and always surrounded by the highest society, was not ashamed to speak of the things of God, was not ashamed to declare the judgments of His mouth. If God was not ashamed to utter His judgments to us for our benefit, how can we be ashamed to utter them? Some minor notable person says something not altogether important, and we count it an honor to insert his word into our conversation; but what God uttered with His mouth would seemingly lower us if we repeat it!.. Have we not come to the point where even the God-fearing are ashamed to speak before us of the judgments of God, lest they cast pearls before…?

And yet there cannot be a richer, more consoling and edifying subject for conversation than the judgments of God’s mouth—that is, everything that the Lord has been pleased to say to us, to do for us, and to establish among us for our salvation. The deeds of Christ the Savior and the holy apostles, the fortunes of the Church, the lives of men renowned in Christianity for teaching and works, the ways of God’s Providence, the manifold occasions in the life of each of us where the finger of God is visible—these are the subjects for conversation between a Christian and a Christian! And how much strength would flow from this for the right ordering of each person individually and then of the whole of society!

Nothing is more easily disregarded than speech; and yet our words always leave a mark behind them, both in the speaker and in the hearer. They are seeds for a whole series of thoughts, from which intentions grow, and finally deeds; they are a lever by which all the relations between persons are set in motion. Good words build up, set in order, and strengthen in what is good; evil words upset and weaken all that is good and prepare the way for evil. And idle talk, though empty, does not go without fruit: it empties the soul; and an empty soul—what is it capable of? After this, the apostle’s warning is understandable: do not grieve the Holy Spirit with any rotten word—the Spirit by Whom we were sealed on the day of our redemption.

Ps. 118:14. I have rejoiced in the way of Your testimonies, as much as in all riches.

And yet another house—or, more directly, the places and fields upon which God’s commandments are realized, where you always meet those who are zealous for pleasing God and where they find their dwelling pleasant. There is no one on earth without consolations: everyone seeks and finds them according to his own taste. One goes to walk in a pleasure garden, another to the theater, a third to an evening party, a fourth to a learned assembly, and so on. But where is it sweetest for a God-fearing person zealous for walking in God’s will? — On the path of God’s testimonies: now in the temple of God, now in hospitals, hospices, almshouses, now at his duty, now at home in devout occupations, now on pilgrimage to holy places. As one who has entered a house full of every good thing and abundance is consoled by finding everything he has grown accustomed to finding pleasant, so a zealous person pleasing God finds pleasure in being in the places mentioned, finding in them satisfaction for the taste that has formed in his heart: there is his delight, there is his paradise. “Nothing captivates me in the present life,” he says with the prophet, “neither gold, nor rank, nor honors, nor power! In place of everything, Your testimonies, O Lord, are both my joy and my riches.”

Thus, “the path of virtue is very laborious,” says Blessed Theodoret, “but exceedingly desirable for those who walk upon it with zeal. This is why our Lord Christ also said: Take My yoke upon you… For My yoke is easy and My burden is light” (Matt. 11:29–30). One may understand the words “as much as in all riches” as comparing only the pleasure of acquiring riches with the pleasure of dwelling upon the mentioned paths of God’s testimonies; and one may at the same time perceive that to dwell upon those fields is as profitable as it is for one to whom all manner of riches flows. Ordinarily, some people think that going to church is a waste of time, yet there can be no better use of time than being in the temple of God; and whoever is there with attention and zeal acquires in a few hours as much as long and many labors outside it cannot give. When some people see someone spending his wealth on the sick, the needy, and those requiring help, they think it a waste; yet nothing can be more profitable than such a use of wealth, for, by the word of God, one who acts thus places his goods in the hands of God Himself, sending them ahead into the everlasting habitations and gathering there treasures that do not grow old. The same should be said about those who strictly keep the fasts, fast and confess with regularity, and go on pilgrimage: “They deplete themselves, exhaust themselves,” people ordinarily say of them—and yet no one grows as rich in spirit as they.

“I have rejoiced”—I tasted sweetness and am satisfied. The experience of all ages shows that only those are truly satisfied who find pleasure in being on the paths of God’s testimonies; they are always cheerful, always in an even disposition of spirit, without outbursts, without ecstasies. Other joys enrapture to the point where a person loses himself and thinks he has been transported to paradise—but this is only for a moment. Such joys quickly pass into an indefinite anguish of heart that destroys even their memory. This is the common lot of all joys that are not spiritual and not subordinated to spiritual interests. In them there is nothing to satisfy the spirit; and the spirit is the chief thing in man—when it is not satisfied, man cannot be content; it is the same as if one who considers himself hungry were not given the favorite dish, though there were many other dishes in abundance. Every effort is made to multiply amusements, but by this one only succeeds in stifling and deadening the spiritual instinct for a time. The time of comfort passes, and the spirit again reasserts itself, scatters all the amusements, and begins to torment man for not heeding it, for not wishing to provide it with the proper, satisfying nourishment fitting to it. Behold a new Samson for you! In a moment of forgetfulness he allowed himself to be entangled, but then when he came to himself—one movement, and everything fell apart (Judg. 15).

Ps. 118:15. I will meditate on Your commandments, and I will understand Your ways.

In the previous verse began the indication of a house of rest—not for the commandments themselves, but for those who are zealous in fulfilling them—showing in what places and occupations they find rest and satisfaction. Before this it was said that all their delight lies in being on the paths of God’s testimonies; and when they return home, what occupies them? — They sit down to examine the questions that arise about life in its relation to the commandments and the works of faith. The prophet gives them instruction on this in the words: “I will meditate on Your commandments.”

“I will meditate”—in Church Slavonic, this word in certain instances means: to sit beside something, to sit over a task with attention and patience, to work diligently and persistently at resolving something. The corresponding Hebrew word means: to question, to weigh what comes before and what comes after—causes and effects, means and ends—and to do so in such a way that, withdrawn from everything else, one is occupied with this alone. Thus the present passage points to contemplative meditation, to which God-loving people ordinarily devote several hours of solitude—for the purpose of clarifying everything connected with the fulfilment of the commandments or with the work of pleasing God in which they are engaged, taking the word of God, patristic writings, and the counsels of experienced men as their guide.

Who can avoid troubling questions and perplexities? And who can say that he has weighed all possible contingencies and knows in advance how to act in each case? Thus, partly to resolve arising questions, partly to forestall them, and most of all to nourish the spirit with contemplative meditation, as soon as you find the time, sit down and immerse yourself in the truths of God—reading the word of God or the patristic writings. The best time for this is morning and evening, and the manner of performing this practice is prayerful. Begin with prayer, continue in a prayerful disposition, and end with prayer. Your guardian angel will then find an opportunity to place in your mind what is needed specifically by you and in your specific circumstances.

Some appoint themselves to read so much from here and so much from there, and read a great deal. The mind may be refreshed by this, but the full benefit is not received; indeed, the reading often turns into a nearly fruitless process. The better order is the following: take a verse, enter into it with all your attention, and unfold it into as many good thoughts as possible. This is the first work. In the thoughts that arise, seek those aspects by which they may breathe upon the heart and draw it toward themselves. This is the second work. Then extract lessons for yourself from them and apply them to your life, marking out for yourself that here this is how you should act, and there—that way. In this manner, a verse will pass through its content through the whole soul, and having left it, will enter into life in due time.

This is the only fruitful contemplative meditation—not a hasty one, to be sure, but one that gives more than any amount of extensive reading and thinking. “But this way,” they will say, “how much will you manage to read and reflect upon?” — Not much, yet much. Some verses will take two or three sessions, some will occupy a whole week. But what is acquired in this way becomes an inalienable, ever-nourishing possession of the spirit. Some verse gives so much light and warmth that it will kindle the spirit for many days. The matter here is not about scholarly reading, but about immersion in Scripture, for the purpose of building up the spirit and clarifying the complex paths of life. Scholars are obliged by duty to read a great deal; but those who seek the building up of the spirit should by no means allow themselves to read a great deal.

More justifiably someone might object: “I cannot reflect—I am not accustomed to it.” But who in the world does not reflect! Take the simplest person, and he too reflects—in the sphere of his own affairs, of course. The practice that has been described is proposed to those who have already entered upon the path of the commandments and have observed themselves on it for some time. Therefore in this domain they are not complete strangers, and can therefore reflect, for all their simplicity. The difficulty is not in inability, but either in mental laziness or in the mind’s acquisitiveness, whereby it wants to grasp more and faster. The first leaves the mind inactive, while the second overwhelms it. He who avoids both takes up the labor of reflection with humility and little by little advances, growing rich in the knowledge of practical life—firm and many-sided. In him the holy prophet’s expectation from this type of practice is precisely fulfilled: “And I will understand Your ways.” One who lives with understanding gathers the lessons of spiritual wisdom grain by grain through immersion in God’s commandments, and arrives at last at a clear knowledge of the ordinances of life according to God, acquiring eventually the ability to teach others as well—plain man though he is and having studied no sciences. Examples of this are scattered throughout the entire history of God’s people in the Church of Christ.

Ps. 118:16. I will delight myself in Your statutes: I will not forget Your word.

This is the third practice in which the God-loving soul finds rest and sweetness. It resembles the previous one, yet differs from it essentially. There it says: “I will meditate” (I will examine diligently), while here it says “I will delight myself”; there the fruit of the practice is given as “I will understand,” while here it is “I will not forget.” “I will not forget” is the work of memory—from this a deduction arises: “I will delight myself” means I will commit to memory.

I will delight myself. I recall that a rule was established even for the first disciples of Saint Anthony to memorize certain psalms by heart immediately upon their arrival in the desert; then they were instructed: when you are in your cell unoccupied or going somewhere, recite from memory the psalms you have learned. This was called “meditation” (poučenie). In our Slavic patristic books the commandment is frequently read: “Have a hidden meditation.” This means: gather your attention and unceasingly repeat: “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner!” Applying this meaning of the word “to meditate” to our text, we may understand that it suggests the memorizing of passages of Scripture by heart and their repetition at a fitting time, so as not to forget the words of God.

Saint Basil the Great testifies that in his time children were made to learn certain psalms and proverbs by heart. Is anything similar done among us? Do even those who have taken upon themselves the yoke of asceticism do anything of the kind?… Yes, in many things we have fallen behind the ancient saving customs! But this does not diminish the worth of the practice indicated in the present verse. It means this: passages from Scripture that have been examined, according to the previous text, learn by heart, and what has been learned, repeat whenever the mind and tongue are free. The Hebrew word corresponding to the word “I will delight myself” means—to roll about in the mind and on the tongue with sweetness, as one rolls a candy in the mouth, for example. Such a practice may be commended to all who sincerely seek to please God in all things.

Among us, many of those who strive read the Psalter in their homes or cells. This partly corresponds to the lesson of our verse. Perhaps private and cell prayer at home may also be referred here. But more directly it means: deliberately to select passages of Scripture for memorizing and then for their repetition in the mind.

By this last practice, the commandments—having already occupied all the powers of the soul—will occupy memory as well and sanctify it. The benefit from this is beyond description! One of the elders said that it is difficult for one living in the world to attain the calming of thoughts, because he sees much evil, which, remaining in the memory, continually presses in upon his attention—even when he sits alone after returning home. What a jostling of thoughts people in the world have—there is nothing even to say about it. Saint Macarius likens the state of their minds to the shaking and tossing of grains of wheat in a sieve. Those who become more sober-minded and begin to walk the path of the commandments are separated from purely worldly affairs, yet they suffer greatly from thoughts—especially at first. Thoughts allow them neither to pray, nor to read, nor to reflect—they drive them away from the work at hand. How then is one to be delivered from this? — There is no better means than to drive out evil memories with good ones… How greatly the learning of passages of Scripture by heart helps in this case—words cannot tell. What happens to the soul here is the same as what happens to soft fruits when they are preserved in sugar. The sugar, having penetrated all their pores, both imparts sweetness to them and preserves them from spoiling. So too the soul, saturated with learned words of God, repels the corruption of shameful and empty thoughts and is filled with sweetness by the remembrance of divine things.

Perhaps this also resolves in general the question of the calming of thoughts; perhaps, that is, the whole matter consists in replacing bad and empty thoughts with good and saving ones—since thoughts about what is good never produce either disturbance or darkness in the mind and heart, but only edification and a good disposition. If this is accepted, then here is a rule for beginners as to how to deal with thoughts: memorize as quickly and as much as possible passages of Scripture—especially the words and deeds of Christ the Savior—and repeat them often. But there is a state granted to those who have been vouchsafed the palpable working of grace, in which there is a special interior peace where even the good multiplicity of thoughts is no longer present, where all is absorbed by the One and where unity and simplicity reign over everything, admitting no plurality whatsoever—not only in desires and feelings but even in thoughts. Over them there already begins to be fulfilled here what the Apostle said of the life of the age to come: “God will be all in all” (1 Cor. 15:28).