Psalm 139 (138):11Meaning & Commentary from the Church Fathers

To clarify this point, the prophet states: "And I said, ‘Will darkness cover me?’ Yet even the night shines with delight. For darkness is not dark to You, and the night is as bright as the day: whatever the darkness may be, that is how its light will appear." Having articulated previously that God is not only omnipresent but also actively guiding, shielding, and safeguarding, he now highlights something remarkable—that God's protection is supernatural. He mentions: "Your hand will guide me and Your right hand will hold me," and then adds: "And I said, ‘Will darkness cover me?’" Another interpretation suggests: if I say, "Perhaps darkness will envelop me." A third perspective states: "It will conceal me." Here, "darkness" signifies anguish.

Our Lord Jesus Christ communicates through the Prophets, sometimes using His own voice and at other times voicing our sentiments, as He unites Himself with humanity. This is reflected in the saying that a man and woman shall become one flesh. Therefore, when He speaks in the Gospel concerning marriage, He asserts that they are no longer two but one flesh. This unity stems from His taking on humanity due to our mortality; He is one flesh, but not one deity, for He is the Creator and we are His creation. Thus, whatever our Lord proclaims through the Flesh He assumed pertains to both the Head that has ascended to the heavens and the members still navigating earthly existence. Let us listen to Christ as He speaks through the prophecies. The Psalms were sung long before He was born of Mary, though not before He became Lord; for He has been the Creator from eternity, yet at a specific time, He became part of His own creation. Let us affirm our belief in His Divine nature, seeking to comprehend Him as being equal to the Father. This equal Godhead chose to share in our mortality, taking flesh not from His own essence but from ours, so that we might partake in His Divine nature, which is not drawn from our essence but from His.

"Lord, Thou hast tried me, and hast recognized me" (Psalm 138:1). May the Lord Jesus Himself express this, and may He also address the Father: "Lord." This is because His Father is not merely His Lord unless He willingly accepted to be born in the flesh, being the Father of God and the Lord of man. Do you understand who His Father is? The equal Son. The Apostle states, "Who, being in the form of God, thought it not robbery to be equal with God" (Philippians 2:6-7). The Father refers to that equal Form, the only begotten Son, begotten of His own Essence. For our sake, so we might be redeemed and become partakers of His Divine nature, He embraced our mortal condition. What does the Apostle declare about Him? "But He emptied Himself, and took upon Himself the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of man, and was found in fashion as a man" (Philippians 2:7). He was in the Form of God, equal to the Father; yet He assumed the form of a servant, that He might, in that condition, be less than the Father.

"You have recognized my sitting and my rising" (Psalm 138:2). What does it mean to sit and to rise? One who sits humbles himself. The Lord sat during His Passion and arose in His Resurrection. You knew this, meaning you willed it and approved it; it was accomplished by your will. If you are to accept the words of the Head as expressed by the Body: a person sits down when he humbles himself in repentance, and he rises when his sins are forgiven, being lifted up to the hope of eternal life. Do not elevate yourselves before you have first humbled yourselves. Many strive to stand before they have knelt to confess their sins.

"You have understood my thoughts from afar; You have marked out my way and my limit" (Psalm 138:3); "and all my ways You have seen before" (Psalm 138:4). What is the meaning of afar? While I journey through life, before I reach my true homeland, You have discerned my thoughts. The parable of the prodigal son illustrates this, as he wandered far off. After enduring toil, suffering, sorrow, and lack, he remembered his father and resolved to return, saying, "I will arise and go to my father." Here we can see him as he says, "You knew when I sat down and when I arose." I sat down in need, and I rose with a desire for Your bread. You have understood my thoughts from afar. As far as I have wandered, where can He be whom I have forsaken? Thus the Lord proclaims in the Gospel that his father saw him while he was still a long way off, for he perceived his thoughts from afar. "What is my way?" It is that by which I left my father. "What is my limit?" It is what I have accomplished. You have traversed my path and measured my bounds. Though these limits may seem distant, they are not hidden from Your sight. Even as far as I have gone, You were present. You saw all my ways beforehand. He did not say "saw" but "saw in advance," indicating that before I journeyed along them, before I engaged in them, You perceived them; and You permitted me to pursue my labor, that I might find my way back to You when I desired to desist from my labors. For there is no deception on my lips. What does he imply by this? He confesses, “I have gone my own way and strayed far from You, distancing myself from the One who was my good,” realizing that life without You is unworthy.

"Behold, O Lord, Thou knowest all my works" (Psalm 138:5). You recognized my last actions when I fed the swine, and You saw my past actions when I sought my share of the inheritance. My early wrongdoings ushered in the newest woes: the original sin at our fall and the final chastisement upon entering this perilous and wearisome life. If this was our end, it can also be our new beginning if we choose to return. For indeed, there remains a last term for some wicked individuals, to whom it will be said, "Depart into everlasting fire" (Matthew 25:41). You formed me and laid Your hand upon me—fashioning me during this mortal existence for the tasks to which we are all called. No one is born without God’s creation; there is no being whose Maker is not God. You have shaped me for this toil, laying upon me Your avenging hand that humbles the proud, for thus He brings down the proud to heal and to lift up the humble.

"Thy art hath marvellously manifested itself in me: it hath become strong; I shall not be able to attain it" (Psalm 138:6). Now hear something profound yet comforting: Moses, God's holy servant, received His word through the cloud, needing to hear from Him through the works of His hands. He fervently longed to witness the fullness of God's glory, saying to God, "If now I have found favor in Your sight, show me Yourself" (Exodus 33:13). When he passionately begged to see His glory, God replied, "My Face you cannot see; for no man may see My Face and live" (Exodus 33:20). Still, He promised, "I will place you in the cleft of the rock and cover you with My hand while I pass by; then you shall see My back, but My Face shall not be seen." From these words emerges a mystery, a shadowy figure of truth. God spoke of His back as if one side had a face while the other did not. We can conceive no such notion of His Majesty! For he who contemplates such unfitting thoughts of God might well ask in vain, "What good is it to me if temples stand empty?" These words harbor great mysteries. Those angered by the visible Lord now seek counsel for salvation, and they are instructed to "Repent, and let every one of you be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ, and your sins shall be forgiven" (Acts 2:38). Indeed, they beheld His back, for His face had been hidden. While His hand shielded their eyes, they would later inquire of the disciples, "What shall we do?" First filled with wrath, then transformed into love, first angry, then afraid; first hardened, then softened; first blind, then enlightened.

"Where shall I go from Thy Spirit?" (Psalm 138:7). The fugitive in a distant land cannot hide from the watchful eyes of his pursuer. Where will he run when he has exhausted all limits? He asks, "Where shall I go from Thy Spirit?" Who can flee from that Spirit which fills the world? "And where shall I flee from Thy presence?" He desperately seeks refuge from God's wrath, but where will He find safety? Those who shelter runaways question them about their past, and if they find they fled from a lesser master, they may hide them without fear, reasoning that he has no authority to pursue. Yet when a mighty lord is mentioned, even the strongest may hesitate to hide, for how can anyone deceive God? Who goes unseen by God? Where could that fugitive hide from God? As he twists and turns looking to escape, he laments, “If I ascend to heaven, Thou art there; if I make my bed in hell, Thou art present" (Psalm 138:8).

Ultimately, miserable fugitive, you have discovered that there is no departing from the One from whom you wish to flee. Behold, He is present everywhere; where could you possibly go? He found the counsel to return to Him who inspired it. Even if I sink into the depths of wickedness and refuse to acknowledge my wrongs, thinking "Who sees me?"—for in Hades, who would confess?—He is there to enforce His punishment. Where can I escape Your presence, that is, where might I avoid finding You angry? He devises a way to flee: “If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea” (Psalm 138:9). Can fleeing to the far side of the sea shield me from Your presence? What, indeed, is the end of the sea but the end of the world?

Let us go forth with anticipation toward the edges of the sea, sheltered only by the love that surrounds us, seeking rest there, for if we seek comfort elsewhere, we shall be cast into tumult. Let us soar towards the horizon of the sea and embrace the wings of deep love; as we strive toward God in hope, let our hearts dwell on what lies at the other end of the sea. Now listen to the One who can lead us forth. The very One whose face we seek to evade in anger. "And there Your hand shall lead me, and Your right hand shall hold me fast" (Psalm 138:10).

Let us reflect on this, dear brethren, as our hope and comfort. Let us reclaim the wings of love that we lost through lust. Lust pulled us down from the heavenly liberality, weighed down by the mire that kept us captive. He redeemed us with His blood, save us from that which we fled. He grants us the wings of His commandments; raised up, we are free from sin. We must have these wings, and we surely need His guidance, for He is our Helper. We possess free will; yet what can we accomplish without the one whose commands empower us?

Upon considering the length of this journey, he reflects: "Perhaps darkness shall encompass me." Yet now, having believed in Christ, I am lifted on the wings of profound love. As for the length of the voyage, I say, "The night illuminated my joy." The night became bright to me in my delight because, through my desire to overcome such trials and make it to the most distant shore, I am grateful to Him who sought me while I was lost. He disciplined my back with the lashes of correction and called me back from my ruin, transforming my darkness into light. As long as we dwell in this life, the night arrives; yet how did the night become radiant? Because Christ entered into the night.

“For darkness shall not be dark unto Thee” (Psalm 138:12). Do not let your own despair deepen that darkness; God does not extinguish it but rather illuminates it still more. In another Psalm, it states: “Thou, O Lord, wilt light my candle: my God will enlighten my darkness.” Who, then, darkens the enlightening? The wicked and perverse, for when they sin, they embody darkness; their refusal to confess defends their darkness, intensifying it. Thus, if you have sinned, you exist in darkness, yet through confession, your darkness shall be transformed into light; to defend your wrongdoing, however, only shadows your understanding further. To whom shall you escape from this greater darkness, you who struggle even under the weight of lesser darkness?

Let us not further deepen our shadows by defending our sins; instead, let our hearts soar toward light and joy in the darkness. The night shall shine as bright as day. The day signifies worldly success, while the night represents adversity; however, when we perceive that through our spiritual trial we undergo adversity, even the scourges of our Father become sweet to us, lest the judgement of the Judge turns bitter. If we grasp that the darkness we endure is merely the light of our trials, then we discover that Christ's presence within our souls, which promises another kind of light, brings us wisdom. He teaches us not to rejoice in worldly gain nor to collapse under trials, but rather to honor God in all circumstances: not only in abundance but also in loss, to praise Him when we are well and when we suffer.

I inquired, "Will the shadows consume me?" It is stated, "Will consume me," rather than "will cloak me and shield me from Your vision." Yet, even this darkness appears as brightness in Your presence.

Simmachus rendered it in this way: If I declare, "Perhaps darkness will envelop me," meaning whether I seek shelter in the dawn or the dusk, I cannot evade Your authority. If I try to find solace in the shadows of night, I still will not be hidden; for to You, even darkness is as light.

I questioned, "Will the shadows consume me, and will the night illuminate me through my delight?" He goes on to reflect, admitting that he once believed he could find refuge in darkness, thinking the night would envelop him, like one whose feet cover the earth beneath. Yet he later realized that even the night and darkness serve as light in his joy, which he equates with God’s presence. He describes God as his sweetness, just as he refers to the remembrance of the Lord as a source of happiness: “I mentioned God, and rejoiced” (Psalm 76:4). This taught him that no darkness can hide him from God.

During times of solitude, the ascetic should not perceive himself as uncovered, for he feels a sense of shame when in the presence of others. It is vital that the all-seeing eye of God does not behold anything within him that he desires to conceal from human gaze. As he begins to bask in the illuminating joy of purity, he is able to echo the words of the prophet: “Perhaps the darkness will hide me, and the light around me will become night”; yet, the darkness cannot conceal anything from You, and the night shines as brightly as the day: darkness is as light to You.

At times, an individual might express to another, “I am unable to escape your presence.” Though such sentiments may be uttered by people, attributing this thought to anyone is fundamentally mistaken. For even common folk, as well as kings who wield authority, can be evaded and concealed from, as we observe. Thus, the phrase “I can’t go anywhere from you” is truly a statement only fit for God to declare. There is no fleeing from Him, regardless of where we attempt to escape, nor can we find refuge from Him, no matter our hiding place. He goes ahead of us wherever we aim to flee and is present in every place we might wish to conceal ourselves.

The prophet contemplates whether it is possible to conceal oneself from God within the shadows of night. He resolves that such evasion is impossible because the darkness of God is not true darkness but rather a manifestation of light, as stated in the Gospel of John: God is light, and the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness does not comprehend it (John 1:5). Much like the sun's rays, which keep darkness at bay, the uncreated light—God Himself—cannot be overshadowed by any kind of darkness; His presence dispels even the densest gloom. Thus, humanity has no hiding place from the omnipresent sight of God.