THEOSISAugustine of Hippo
Look closely, a humble individual prays, and his prayers are far from quiet. This allows us to hear his voice and discern his identity, the one of whom the apostle mentioned, "Though He was rich, yet for your sakes He became poor, that ye through His poverty might be enriched" (2 Corinthians 8:9). If he is indeed this figure, then why does he appear poor? In what understanding can one who lacks vision be called rich? Who can surpass Him, the Creator of all riches, including those that lack true value? It is through Him that we possess not only material wealth but also the gifts of capability, remembrance, integrity, physical well-being, and the design of our very beings; for when these are safeguarded, even the destitute find abundance. In Him, we also discover the true treasures of faith, devotion, righteousness, love, and purity, for none can attain them apart from Him who sanctifies the sinner. These are indeed great riches! How do we find such expressions among one who possesses so much? "I ate ashes as bread, and mingled my drink with weeping." Has such immense wealth culminated in this? The initial fortune is exceedingly lofty, yet the present state appears most lowly. Yet we are called to examine whether this destitute figure is indeed He. "And the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us" (John 1:14). Additionally, consider the words, "I am your servant, and the son of your servant." This servant is pure, a virgin, and a mother; for in that moment, He took on our lack, donning the form of a servant and emptying Himself, that we need not fear His wealth and hesitate to approach Him in our own spiritual poverty. Thus, He enveloped Himself in the guise of a servant, took upon Himself our neediness, rendered Himself poor while making us rich. As we draw closer to understanding these truths about Him, we must tread carefully in our declarations.
Let Him then add more to His state of poverty, transforming our lowly existence into His own; let Him be our Head, and we, His body, as the two become one flesh (Philippians 3:21). He has chosen to regard us as His body. The repentant are included among His members, not set apart from His Church. For without those words, "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand" (Matthew 3:2), He would not have taken a bride in the Church. Let us attentively hear what the Head and body, the Bridegroom and the Bride—Christ and the Church, united as one—communicate in prayer. Yet the Word and the flesh, while distinct, are not completely separated; the Father and the Word are one, just as Christ and the Church reflect a singular perfect man in His fullness. Therefore, let us listen to Christ, who is poor among us, with us, and for us. The very title indicates this poverty. Finally, recognize my endeavor to identify that poor figure: let us hear His prayers and acknowledge His identity, and do not err when encountering sentiments that cannot relate to the Head; this introduction is to clarify that all you hear in this description should be understood as emanating from the frailty of the body, allowing us to perceive the voice of the body’s members in the Head. The title is, "The Prayer of the Suffering Man," who, in anguish, poured out his prayers before the Lord. This is the same poor soul who elsewhere states, "From the ends of the earth I will call upon Thee when my heart is in travail." He endures suffering because He embodies Christ, who, as the Prophet indicates, assumes the roles of both Bridegroom and Bride: "He hath put a diadem upon me as the bridegroom, and as the bride hath adorned me with jewels" (Isaiah 61:10). He identifies as both Bridegroom and Bride, for these designations signify the Head and the body. Hence, they are a unified voice, for they are one flesh. Let us listen and find ourselves reflected in these words; should we discover ourselves outside of this unity, let us strive to belong.
"Hear my prayer, O Lord, and let my cry come unto Thee" (Psalm 100:1). To plead "Hear my prayer, Lord" is akin to imploring, "Let my cry come unto Thee"; the expression of the supplicant is clear through repetition. "Turn not away Thy face from me." When has God withdrawn His countenance from His Son? When did the Father shun Christ? However, due to the scarcity of my members, I beseech, do not hide your face from me: in my day of distress, lend an ear to my plea (Psalm 101:2). You are presently in distress, I am in distress; this generation, and those who follow, are in distress, all as part of my suffering. To the end of time, all who suffer through my body are encompassed in my anguish. Peter prayed, Paul prayed, the other Apostles prayed; faithful believers of past, present, and future have prayed in unity. Soon, I ask earnestly for that which You stand ready to provide, not seeking earthly riches as a mere mortal would. Rather, liberated at last from my past bondage, I yearn for the heavenly kingdom. "Hear me soon," for it is this very longing that prompts Your remark: "Even while Thou speakest, I will say, Here am I" (Isaiah 58:9). For what purpose dost thou call? What sorrow has led you to this cry? O destitute one, before the bountiful gates of God, what yearning compels your request? What need beckons you to seek relief?
"My days have vanished like smoke" (Psalm 100:3). O days! If we speak of days, where light exists, there must also be understanding. My days, my times; thus, like smoke, are they not manifestations of pride? Look how smoke, akin to pride, rises, swells, and withers away, deservedly fading and lacking permanence. "And my bones are burnt as in a furnace." My very bones and strength are not devoid of sorrow or burning. The bones of Christ's body, His strength, is beyond that of the holy apostles. Yet, you witness the suffering of His bones. Who among you is unscathed from this burning? "Who is weak, and I am not weak?" (2 Corinthians 11:29). They are bold, faithful, skilled interpreters and heralds of the Word, living as they preach, proclaiming the truth as they hear it; they exhibit courage, yet those who are offended act as a furnace against them. In their midst exists love, and even deeper within the bones. Bones reside in all flesh, upholding our physical form. If someone suffers grievance that endangers their soul, the intensity of their suffering is proportionate to their flawed nature.
Consider Adam, the source of humanity. From him arose the spread of sorrow. From his actions came inherited poverty. Let one who once despaired in his flesh now, standing in the body of Christ, declare with hope, "My heart is afflicted and withered like grass" (Psalm 101:4). This is fitting, for all flesh is but grass (Isaiah 40:6). But how did this come to be? For he has "forgotten to eat his bread." God established His command regarding bread. What, then, constitutes the bread of the soul? The serpent compelled, and the woman sinned, reaching for the forbidden fruit (Genesis 3:6); thus, he neglected the commandment, resulting in the affliction of his heart, wilting as grass, for he forsook his sustenance. In neglecting to consume this bread, he drinks in poison: his heart bears the weight of desolation and is withering like grass. Now partake of that bread which you have forsaken. But lo, that very Bread has come, within whose body you may recall the echoes of your neglect, and cry out for abundance from your state of need. Now partake, for you are within Him, as He affirms, "I am the living bread which came down from heaven" (John 6:41). You have neglected your sustenance; however, post-crucifixion, all the earth's corners will recall and turn to the Lord. Having forgotten, may your memory return; partake of the bread from heaven to sustain your life, not manna—the bread of those who ate yet perished (John 6:49)—but that of which it is declared, "Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness" (Matthew 5:6).
"From the voice of my groaning my bones have cleaved to my flesh" (Psalm 101:5). Many groan, and I too join in groaning; even in this I lament, for they grieve over a misguided act. A man loses a coin and laments; yet he loses his faith and does not mourn. I weigh gold against faith and find more grounds for sorrow for him who fails to groan as he ought or does not groan at all. He commits deceit and rejoices, but with what gain, and what loss? He has acquired wealth but surrendered righteousness. It is for this reason that those who know how to lament DO lament; those who are close to the Head, who cling rightly to the body of Christ, groan from this connection. Yet the carnal disregard true groans and fabricate their own since they groan for the wrong reasons. We cannot disdain them if they either do not groan or groan for misguided intents. Our intention is to correct their course, and when we cannot, we groan; when we groan, it does not separate us from them.
"I have become like a pelican in the wilderness, and like an owl among the broken walls" (Psalm 100:6). Three birds and three locations are denoted: the pelican, the owl, and the sparrow, found in the wilderness, amongst the ruins, and on the roof of a house, respectively. The pelican dwells in isolation; it hails from a region that makes it unfamiliar to us, specifically near the banks of the Nile River in Egypt. It resides in desolate places—this is what the Psalm declares. Why delve into its form, limbs, sounds, or habits? As the Psalm indicates, it lives alone. The owl prefers the night, while the ruins—walls devoid of roofs and inhabitants—serve as its home. The sparrow is known to all, perching on the roof. Hence, I envision a member of the body of Christ, a laborer of the Word, compassionate toward the weak, seeking the victories of Christ and being mindful of their ultimate Lord (Matthew 25:26). Consider these three elements through the lens of His stewardship. Did such an individual approach non-believers? He is like the pelican in the wilderness. Did he come to Christians and withdraw? He becomes the owl amongst the broken walls, for he does not abandon those lost in darkness; he seeks to reach them all. Yet if he encounters Christians who reside in the home as though rejecting their faith, or if they partake in the warmth of genuine belief without truly adhering, the sparrow communicates not in wilderness, for they are believers; nor in the ruins, for they have not crumbled. Instead, he ships from the roof; and precisely because they dwell under flesh.