THEOSISAugustine of Hippo
Behold, a humble man is praying aloud, making his prayers known so that we might recognize who he is: Is he not the one of whom the apostle declares, "Though He was rich, yet for your sakes He became poor, that ye through His poverty might be enriched" (2 Corinthians 8:9)? If this is indeed Him, why is He in such a state of poverty? In what manner can He, who is invisible, truly possess riches? Who is wealthier than He, through whom all riches—including those that are not genuine wealth—came into being? Through Him, we receive not just material wealth but also the gifts of competence, memory, character, health, and the proper functioning of our bodies; for when these are in place, even the impoverished are made rich. Moreover, through Him we also gain the invaluable treasures of faith, reverence, righteousness, love, purity, and good conduct, for no one possesses these virtues save through Him, who justifies the wicked. What immense treasures we see in this rich one! How do we discern these attributes in such a poor figure? "I have eaten ashes as bread, and mingled my drink with weeping." Can such profound wealth lead to the depths of despair? His initial fortunes were vast, yet His current state is abysmally low. Still, let us examine whether this humble figure is indeed He, for, "the Word became flesh and dwelt among us" (John 1:14). Reflect also on these words, "I am Your servant, and the son of Your servant." Note that this servant is pure, a virgin, and a mother; for He embraced our poverty, taking on the form of a servant and humbling Himself, so that we would not be fearful of His riches and feel unworthy to approach Him in our state of need. In this act, He enveloped Himself in our lack, becoming poor in order to enrich us. We are beginning to grasp these truths about Him, yet we are not yet ready to boldly proclaim them...
Let Him continue to add to His humility and transform our lowly bodies into His likeness, making us one with Him, for He has chosen us to be His members. Those who repent are included among His body; they are not separate from His Church, and He would not have made the Church His bride if it were not for the call to repentance, as stated, "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand" (Matthew 3:2). Let us attentively listen to the prayers of both the Head and the body, Christ and the Church, unified as one person. The Word and the flesh are not identical, while the Father and the Word are one and the same; Christ and the Church are one being, one complete man in His fullness. Let us then listen to Christ, who is poor in us, with us, and for us, as His very title suggests.
Finally, take note that I have perceived who this impoverished man is; let us hear His prayer and recognize His identity, ensuring we do not misinterpret anything that cannot be attributed to His Head. It is for this reason that I have introduced these themes, so that whatever you hear regarding this description may be understood as a sound emerging from the weakness of the body, recognizing the voice of the members of the Head. The title refers to, "The Prayer of the Suffering Man," when he was tormented and humbly cried out to the Lord. This is the same poor man who, in another passage, asserts, "From the ends of the earth I will call upon Thee when my heart is in travail." He suffers because he embodies Christ, who, in the words of the Prophet, identifies Himself as 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 calls Himself the Bridegroom and the Bride, as this distinction reflects in the Head and the body—indeed, they are one voice because they are one flesh. Let us recognize ourselves within these sentiments; and if we find ourselves outside of it, let us strive to be included.
"Hear my prayer, O Lord, and let my cry come unto Thee" (Psalm 100:1). To say, "Hear my prayer, Lord," is akin to saying, "Let my cry come unto Thee," signifying the intense urgency of the petitioner through his repeated plea. "Turn not Thy face away from me." When was the Father’s face turned away from Christ? It was during His passion, for the sake of our transgressions. Yet for the sake of my many imperfections, do not turn Thy face from me; on any day I lament, tune Your ear to my plea (Psalm 101:2)... You are now in distress, I am in distress; tomorrow another will be in distress, I am in distress; successive generations will face troubles, I am in distress; until the end of time, anyone suffering in my body will find my heart in agony...
Peter prayed, Paul prayed, and so did all the Apostles; the faithful prayed in past times, are praying in present times, and will pray in future generations. Let this urgency be known: I now request that which You are willing to grant. I do not ask for earthly matters, as one who is of the earth; rather, having been liberated from prior bondage, I yearn for the kingdom of heaven. Answer swiftly, for it is precisely this longing that You have assured, "Even while Thou speakest, I will say, Here am I" (Isaiah 58:9). What prompts Your call? What grief drives this plea? O wretched soul, at the gates of the All-Rich God, for what do you earnestly seek? From what desperation do you seek relief? What need compels you to knock for the door to be opened unto you?
"For my days have vanished like smoke" (Psalm 100:3). O days! If they are days: where light is present, understanding also follows. My days—their passing is as ephemeral as smoke, which reflects pride's puffed-up nature... Observe how smoke rises and swells, only to fade; it is justly designed to dissipate. "And my bones are burned as in a furnace." My bones and my strength are accompanied by sorrow, ignited by anguish. Who can claim greater strength than that found among the saints, particularly the holy apostles? Yet, it remains evident that their bones are scorched. Who is offended, and I remain unscorched? (2 Corinthians 11:29) They are valiant, devoted interpreters and proclaimers of the Word, living authentically, embodying the truth they speak. They demonstrate courage, yet all who take offense serve as a furnace to them. Love resides there, most potently expressed within the bones, which support all flesh.
Consider Adam, the source from which humankind sprang. From him arose our shared misery and inherited brokenness. Let he who once languished in despair within his flesh now proclaim with hope, "My heart is afflicted and withered like grass" (Psalm 101:4). This state is justly warranted; after all, all flesh is merely grass (Isaiah 40:6). How did this affliction befall you? Because I have neglected to partake of my bread. For God has issued His command concerning spiritual sustenance. What is the bread of the soul? When the serpent and the woman sinned, they touched the forbidden fruit (Genesis 3:6), forgetting the commandment; their hearts were struck as they deserved, withered like grass, due to their neglect of their bread. Forgetting to consume that bread, they imbibe poison: their hearts are smitten and fade away like grass...
Now, partake of that bread which you have neglected. For that very Bread has come, administering to your folly, calling you to cry out in your poverty for riches. Now eat, for you dwell within Him who declares, "I am the living bread which came down from heaven" (John 6:41). You have forgotten your sustenance; yet, following His crucifixion, all ends of the earth will remember and turn to the Lord. After forgetting, let the memory return; let us partake of the heavenly bread that we might live—not the manna, which once consumed, resulted in death (John 6:49)—but that bread concerning which it is said, "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 groan; I groan over their groaning, as they lament for their wrongs. Consider the man who has lost a coin, he groans; yet he who has lost faith does not groan. I assess the value of money against that of faith and find more cause for lament in one who remains indifferent to his spiritual condition. He who commits wrongdoing rejoices in it. What profit does he gain, what loss incurs? He has gained mere wealth but forfeited righteousness. This alone is enough for the mindful to mourn; he who draws close to the Head, clinging rightly to the body of Christ, finds his groaning originates from this. Yet the fleshy, carnal individual does not groan for this reason; such a one may even feign groaning, but we should not scorn them despite their misguided perspective. Our aim is correction; when we are unable, we ourselves groan; and in our own groanings, we remain united with them...
"I have become like a pelican in the wilderness, and like an owl among the broken walls" (Psalm 100:6). Three birds are mentioned across three distinct locales: the pelican in the wilderness, the owl in desolate ruins, and the sparrow atop the roof of a house. The pelican, known for its elusive habitation, dwells in secluded areas, particularly near the banks of the Nile. Regardless of its kind, we should focus on what the Psalm conveys: it lives in solitude, signifying a creature which is alone. The owl favors the night, while parietines or ruins stand as walls without roofs or inhabitants—the domain of the owl. The sparrow is familiar, residing upon rooftops—the domain of those who claim the flesh. I see one from the body of Christ—a preacher of the Word, sympathetic to the weak, devoted to the pursuits of Christ, mindful of that which is to come (Matthew 25:26).
Let us relate these three creatures to His stewardship. Did such a messenger approach non-believers? He becomes a pelican in the wilderness. Has he approached believers only to withdraw? He is an owl in the broken walls; for even as he retreats into the darkness, he seeks to reach those who dwell in night. If he is sent to Christians who live under the roof but appear as if they embraced disbelief, or if they have forsaken faith, he would still find the sparrow calls forth to them—not within wilderness, for these are Christians; nor amidst the ruins, for they are not forsaken; but beneath the roof, elements representing the flesh. The sparrow calls to the flesh, unyielding in God's commands, refraining from descending into carnality. What is conveyed in the ear should be proclaimed from the rooftops (Matthew 10:27).
There are three birds and three environments; one individual may embody three creatures, and three distinct individuals may represent them individually; yet the wilderness, the broken walls, and the rooftops illustrate the three classes of people. ...Let us not overlook what is presented regarding this bird—the pelican. I do not make any hasty claims, but rather keep in mind what remains read and communicated by authors. It is reported that these birds, in distress, strike their own chicks with their beaks and then mourn over their loss for three days, through which they restore life. This may indeed be accurate; should it prove true, it corresponds nicely with He who has granted us life through His blood. Just as the motherly flesh provides life to her young through her sacrifice, so does it connect to Him, who likens Himself to a hen brooding over her chicks (Matthew 23:37).
If this aligns, the bird parallels the flesh of Christ, from whose blood we gain life. But how might it synchronize that the bird kills its young? Does it not resonate with this claim: "I kill and bring to life: I wound and heal" (Deuteronomy 32:39)? Would Saul, the persecutor, have perished (Acts 9:4) had he not been stricken from the heavens, or would the preacher have been revived without receiving life through His blood? However, it is essential for those who address this topic to exercise caution; we must not settle our understanding on precarious ground. Instead, let us perceive this bird in the wilderness, as the Psalm states, "The pelican is alone." I contend that this references Christ, born of a virgin; for He was alone in His unique incarnation.