Psalm 120 (119):6Meaning & Commentary from the Church Fathers

Do you recall how our Lord Jesus Christ voiced the weight of sharing space with such people? When He asked, "How long shall I be with you? How long shall I bear with you?" (Matthew 17:17), He was alluding to the significance of dwelling among the inhospitable. These are they who barbarically regard others as mere beasts, residing in tents and caves, embodying the savagery of wild animals. Even more reprehensible are the exploiters, the corrupt, who indulge in excess. "Long lived my soul," they assert, yet their days are but seventy years. The prophet refers to them as many, not by count but due to the severity of their plight. For those in affliction, even a brief span feels prolonged. We ought to share this perspective: though our years may be few, we should regard them as many, fueled by a fervent hope for future blessings. I mention this not to disparage the present life—which is indeed a divine creation—but to inspire in you an ardent yearning for future rewards, encouraging you not to grow attached to the now, to cling to the flesh, or to emulate the timid who, despite living for a thousand years, deem it insignificant. What could be more foolish? How much more coarse is it to anticipate heaven and its celestial treasures, "eye hath not seen it, ear hath not heard it" (1 Cor. 2:9), yet to pursue mere illusions, seeking to be engulfed by the tumult of the present life, fraught with unending waves, storms, and shipwrecks? Paul was not of this mind; instead, he pressed forward, driven by a single concern—the salvation of others (Philippians 1:23).

This is intended to nurture them with the milk of spiritual sustenance until they are mature enough to embrace solid food.

When a person begins to contemplate their spiritual ascent—more simply, when a Christian starts to seek transformation—they inevitably encounter the criticisms of adversaries. Anyone who has yet to face such opposition has not truly advanced; those who cannot endure it have not committed themselves to genuine self-improvement. If one wishes to understand this concept more deeply, let them also encounter the words spoken against us. As one seeks to reform and aspires toward spiritual elevation, desiring to let go of temporal, fleeting desires and considering worldly fulfillment of little value, focusing solely on God, they should be prepared to experience the slander of detractors and persistent opponents—along with the even greater peril of misleading advisors who may lead them astray from salvation.

The one who is lifted up begins their defense with prayer, invoking God against these very criticisms: “When I was in trouble, I called upon the Lord; and He heard me” (Psalm 118:1). Why did He respond? So that He might elevate them to new heights.

“Deliver my soul, O Lord, from deceptive lips, and from a wicked tongue” (Psalm 119:2). What does a deceitful tongue signify? It suggests counsel that is insincere and the curse of true evil. These are the voices that prompt, “Will you do what no one else dares to do? Will you be the singular Christian?” Some grow discouraged by excuses, while others are dissuaded by flattery. Given that this lifestyle has become widespread, it is remarkable that even those outside the faith hesitate to disparage Christ. Those who cannot criticize Him tend to read about Him. They cannot oppose Christ, nor contradict the Gospel; for He stands beyond reproach. A deceitful tongue may masquerade as praise, turning it into an obstruction. If you offer praise, then encourage; do not discourage with empty commendation.

This excuse shifts again, as through disingenuous praise, one might deter me from genuine acknowledgment of Christ. Within this context, there are those who claim, “You may not be capable of this—if you attempt to rise, you may stumble.” This serves as a warning: it is akin to a serpent, a deceitful tongue with venomous intent. Pray against it if you truly wish to ascend.

And your Lord inquires, “What will they provide you, or what shall they give you against the deceitful tongue?” (Psalm 119:3). What will be given to you—what weapons can be used against a lying tongue for self-defense? He prompts you to reflect, for He will respond to His own query. In response to the sharp arrows of the Almighty, He offers coals that destroy (Psalm 119:4). Whether desolating or devastating—both concepts bear a similar significance, as it is evident that what leads to destruction does so quite easily. What do these coals represent? First, dear brothers and sisters, grasp what these arrows signify. The sharp arrows of the Almighty are God’s words.

What then are the destructive coals? It is insufficient to merely pray against a deceitful tongue and wicked lips with words; it is equally necessary to provide examples to justify our prayers. Hence, the term “coals” refers to the testimonies of many who have turned to the Lord. Observers may say, “I knew that individual, so attached to drink, a villain, a lover of entertainment, a deceiver: look how they now serve God, how pure they have become.” Do not be astonished; they are as burning coals. You rejoice that the one you despaired for as lost is now alive. When you commend the living, ensure your praise also stirs to life the dead; apply it to them that they may be reignited. For whoever remains indifferent to following God may be seen as an extinguished coal; they must receive the arrow of God’s word, along with the scorching coals, to confront the fraudulent tongue and deceitful lips.

“Alas, that my sojourn has become distant!” (Psalm 119:5). It has strayed far from you; my wanderings have been extensive. I have not yet arrived at the place where I will no longer have to coexist with any evildoer; I have not yet reached the company of Angels, where I will fear no offense. But why am I not there yet? For a sojourn signifies a pilgrimage. An alien is identified as one who resides in a foreign land rather than their homeland. When does that journey feel distant? Sometimes, dear ones, when a person travels abroad, they find themselves among better people than they might encounter at home; yet this is not the case when one moves farther from the heavenly Jerusalem. A traveler may change their surroundings, which can sometimes be beneficial; in their travels, they may discover faithful friends absent in their homeland. They might have had adversaries at home, propelling them to leave, but when they venture forth, they find what they could not find before. Not so with the land of Jerusalem, where all are righteous; anyone drifting from there is amidst the wicked. One can only escape the wickedness when they return to the assembly of angels, returning to where they belonged before their journey. In that realm, everyone is just and holy, savoring the word of God without the need for texts; for that which is written for us flows from the presence of God.

What a magnificent country! Truly a splendid place, and pitiable are those who stray from it.

When one states, “My pilgrimage is far off,” they voice the experiences of the Church herself, toiling in this earthly realm. It is she who cries out from the ends of the earth in another Psalm, declaring, “From the ends of the earth have I cried unto Thee…” How does she groan, and among whom does she dwell? “I dwelt among the tents of Kedar.” This Hebrew term may not be immediately familiar to you. What does it mean to dwell among the tents of Kedar? Kedar, as we recall from the meanings of Hebrew words, signifies darkness. In Latin, Kedar translates to “tenebrae.” We know that Abraham had two sons, referenced by the Apostle as archetypes of the two covenants. Ishmael represents darkness, while Isaac represents light. Anyone pursuing earthly happiness within the Church of God will align with Ishmael. These are the ones who criticize and diminish the efforts of spiritual seekers, wielding deceitful tongues and unjust lips. Against them, the Psalmist battled in prayer, and he was armed with burning coals, with blazing, sharp arrows from the Almighty. For he remains among them until the entire earth is sown; thus, he articulated, “I dwelt among the tents of Kedar.” The tents of Ishmael are identified as the tents of Kedar. Genesis 25:13 states that Kedar belongs to Ishmael. Therefore, Isaac coexists with Ishmael; those who belong to Isaac find themselves among the descendants of Ishmael (Galatians 4:29). These individuals aspire to ascend higher, while others aim to bring them down; these wish to soar to God while others attempt to clip their wings.

“My soul has wandered much” (Psalm 119:6). To avoid confusion with physical wandering, he refers to a wandering of the soul. The body may journey physically, but the soul wanders in its affections. When one loves the earthly, they drift away from God; to love God means to ascend toward Him. Let us nurture our love for God and our neighbor, so that we may return to a state of charity. If we fall away, we shall wilt and decay. However, one came down to this fallen individual so that they might rise again. Reflecting on his time of wandering, he noted he had dwelt among the tents of Kedar. Why? Because my soul has wandered much. It ascends only when it is not tethered to the body. But where does this ascent occur? It takes place within the heart.

“With those who hate the world, I found peace” (Psalm 119:7). However, beloved brethren, no matter how often you listen, you cannot truly prove the authenticity of your song unless you begin to live out what you sing. Regardless of how many times I articulate it, and regardless of the methods or expression I employ, it will not penetrate the heart of someone who is not applying it in their life. Begin to act, and you will see the essence of what we are speaking about. Then, tears will flow at every expression, and the Psalm will resonate with the heart, as it truly engages with the song.

Who are those who despise the world? They are those who disrupt unity. If they did not loathe worldly pursuits, they would remain in harmony. Instead, they separate themselves to uphold righteousness, so that the unrighteous do not mingle with them. These words are either ours or theirs; choose whose they are. The Catholic Church asserts, “Unity must not be compromised; the Church of God must endure.” Thus, God shall judge both the wicked and the righteous.

We declare, too, to love the world is to love Christ. For those who love the world genuinely love Christ. Therefore, when we express, “Love the world,” we are saying, “Love Christ.” Why? Because the Apostle asserts of Christ: “He is our peace, who hath made both one” (Ephesians 2:14). Hence, if Christ embodies peace by uniting two, why do you break apart what He has joined? How can you be peacemakers if, when Christ establishes unity from disparity, you create division from union? Because we declare this truth, we walk as peacemakers alongside those who despise worldly desires; however, those who abhor the world have declared war against us in vain when we speak to them.

Notice the emphasis the Lord places not on our grievances but on our brother’s. It might feel unjust—if the focus were on our grievances, we could remain in control. Yet the Lord points out, "If you remember that your brother has something against you." We might protest, “Lord, I bear no ill will toward my brother—his matters do not concern me. Why should my offering be deemed unacceptable?” The Lord's directive is clear: "If you bring your gift to the altar and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift and go and be reconciled to your brother, and then come and offer your gift" (Matthew 5:23-24). Yet, what if I hold no grievance? The Lord will respond, "Wretched servant, I see your heart. You have no animosity? But do you love him? If you truly care for him, why not seek to restore him? If he is dear to you, inquire whether he harbors any ill will toward you, so he may find salvation. Your lack of desire to save him reveals your insincerity in love. Go to him, kneel before him, imploring night and day: 'I have left my gift at the altar because I cannot offer sacrifices knowing you are troubled.' He may reconsider and ask, 'If someone who seeks forgiveness has not offered their gift, how can I refuse to forgive?' This is why the apostle instructs us to treat our enemies with kindness. And what occurs? "If your enemy is hungry, feed him, and if he is thirsty, give him drink; for in doing so, you will heap burning coals on his head" (Romans 12:20). One might wonder, "Should I show such kindness to my enemy, leading to their condemnation?" The truth is this: if he has wronged you and you respond with goodness, you are purifying him of his wrongful desires, igniting the flames of his repentance.

Consider what the holy prophet declares: "With those who hate peace I am at peace." He does not say he is with those who merely dislike peace, but with those who actively detest it. They may reject peace, but he chooses to love them nonetheless. Consequently, the apostle advises, "If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone" (Romans 12:18). Let us inquire of our brother if he sees us as an adversary. Let us ask several times. "Lord, if my brother sins against me, how many times should I forgive him? Seven times?" But He replies, "Not seven times, but seventy-seven times" (see Matthew 18:21-22). In essence, that is four hundred and ninety times. If we were to attempt to keep track, it is unlikely we could offend that many times in a single day. The Lord's message is clear: if a person sins against you seventy times but genuinely repents and seeks forgiveness, you must forgive. You might argue that he does not return fully sincere and is deceitful. However, do not judge; leave that matter to God. Whether he is insincere or genuinely contrite, God knows his heart, just as He knows yours. Distrust your senses; listen to his words, yet recognize that Christ discerns the true intentions within. Therefore, focus on your reward: his deception will lead to his downfall, while your integrity leads to salvation.

Why do I share these truths? In the monasteries, particularly in the common areas, we tend to grapple with such vices. We are unashamed; we do not mourn the sacrifices made—leaving behind mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, wives, and children. We abandon our homelands and the places of our upbringing only to squabble over trivial matters within the monastery. We traded everything for this life, yet we continue to bicker over insignificant issues. I find myself unable to bear a harsh word spoken against me, allowing it to fester in my heart for days on end. I might approach my brother who has wronged me and offer words of reconciliation, but internally, I harbor resentment. Often, my eyes and mind reveal the turmoil within. When our hearts are wounded towards someone, we cannot regard them with composure; our expressions betray our inner turmoil. The Scripture relates, "And they could not speak peaceably to him" (Genesis 37:4)—we cannot pretend peace exists when it is absent from our hearts.

I speak these words not for my own ease. The pursuit of truth compels me. The tongue presents a grave danger. "Lord, deliver my soul from the mouth of the wicked and from the deceitful tongue"—not from others, but from my own. A foreign tongue poses no real threat to me; it is my own tongue that becomes my adversary. "Lord, rescue my soul from my tongue: it is a weapon that destroys." I may mistakenly believe I am wounding my enemy while oblivious to the self-destruction I cause. I need not retaliate against my adversaries when engaging with them; let me communicate peacefully. Though they possess a combative spirit, we are called to exude peace. The Scriptures record, “And the troops of Israel went to battle with a peaceful heart” (see 1 Chronicles 12:38)—who truly goes into conflict bearing such tranquility? The Christian’s strength lies in peace. "And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding" (Philippians 4:7) serves as our foundation. Blessed are the peacemakers—not only those who reconcile others but also those who maintain internal peace. Blessed are the peacemakers. If others are at odds but I remain centered and conciliatory while harboring unrest within, what value is there in resolving their conflict? "Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God" (Matthew 5:9). Blessed are those who foster harmony even among those who disdain peace. Christ embodies peace. If Solomon, a type of Christ, carries the meaning of "peacemaker," then our Lord, Christ, is our peace. Upon His ascension, He imparted to us the inheritance of peace, saying, "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you" (John 14:27). Let us cherish and uphold this gift of peace from Christ, serve it, and allow it to govern our lives in Christ Jesus, to whom be the glory forever and ever. Amen.

Maximus observes that in its fullest sense, as long as the soul ascends from one strength to another and from one glory to a greater glory—progressing from virtue to virtue and from knowledge to deeper understanding—it will continue to experience exploration, as it is stated: my soul wandered extensively. There is a vast expanse of wisdom it must journey through before arriving at the wondrous abode, even the house of God. Nicetas, in his commentary, observes that the soul meanders in this realm: it is not the physical body that is taken from the earth, but the soul itself which roams. He adds that he coexisted peacefully with the tumultuous and unruly residents of Kidar, not resisting them in any way, but rather surrendering to them as a servant. This teaches us to follow suit and cultivate peace with all. If we can maintain peace with those who despise tranquility, how much more should we strive for peace with those who cherish it? We achieve this when we navigate this world as sojourners or temporary inhabitants, living our earthly lives without attachment to worldly matters and viewing them as fleeting. Chrysostom asserts that he maintained peace even with those who sought discord. How can we expect retribution if we find animosity even among friends? How might we rectify this? By living as transients, with no earthly possessions holding sway over us. For the love of present wealth, fame, and pleasure breeds chaos and animosity; if we sever these ties, where can enmity arise? The Monk Nikita emphasizes that we, as followers of Christ, must uphold peace in all dimensions, outwardly with those who despise harmony, as a servant of the Lord must avoid conflict, and inwardly with our divine spirit and with God and His angels. When the forces of our soul are at rest, moved by the Holy Spirit, we are at peace within ourselves, our conscience untroubled, allowing us to approach God confidently, as the Apostle indicates. With a heart free from guilt, we find tranquility with God, are reconciled with the heavenly powers, and at peace with those who reject worldly values. Chrysostom adds that we should not claim, "He is wicked and intolerable to me," for it is primarily through our meekness that we reveal true strength. When we exhibit this quality even towards those who are cruel, the true power of meekness becomes manifest, as does its genuine activity, perfection, and fruit.