Our Lord Jesus Christ communicates through the Prophets, at times in His own name and at others in ours, uniting Himself with humanity, as it is said, "the two shall become one flesh." This explains why, in the Gospel, Jesus refers to the union in marriage: they are no longer two, but one flesh. He assumed a mortal body to identify with our humanity, but He is not merely a human being; He is divine as the Creator, while we are His creations. Thus, whatever our Lord proclaims through the flesh He has taken on is true not only of that Head who has ascended to heaven but also of the body members still journeying on earth. Let us listen to our Lord Jesus Christ through the prophetic utterances. The psalms were chanted long before the Incarnation, although He was recognized as Lord eternally; for as Creator, He existed before time, yet in time He was born of His creation. Let us have faith in His divine nature and strive to comprehend Him as coequal with the Father. However, this divine nature, coequal with the Father, took on our mortal nature, partaking not from His essence but from ours; so that we too might share in His divine nature, not by our essence, but His.
"Lord, You have searched me and known me" (Psalm 138:1). Let the Lord Jesus Himself affirm this and echo it to the Father. For the Father does not truly call Him Lord unless He has willingly taken on human nature. He is the Father of God and the Lord of humanity. Do you know whom He is Father to? To the equal Son. The Apostle states, "Who, being in the form of God, did not consider it robbery to be equal with God" (Philippians 2:6-7). For this form, God is the Father; the Form that is equal to Him, the only begotten Son, coming forth from His own essence. But for our sake, so that we might be transformed to share in His divine nature, being renewed to eternal life, He took on our mortal form. What does the Apostle say of Him? "But He emptied Himself, taking the form of a servant, and coming in the likeness of men, and being found in appearance as a man" (Philippians 2:7).
"You have discerned my sitting down and my rising up" (Psalm 138:2). What does it mean to sit, and what does it mean to rise? He who sits is humbled. Thus, the Lord sat in His Passion and rose in His Resurrection. He indicates that you recognized it; that is to say, You willed it and approved it; it was accomplished by Your will. But should you choose to embrace the words of the Head through the Body: a person sits as they humble themselves in repentance, and they rise when their sins are forgiven, lifted to the hope of eternal life. Do not elevate yourselves unless you have first humbled yourselves. Many wish to be exalted before they kneel down, eager to appear righteous without confessing their sins.
"You understand my thoughts from afar; You discern my path and my lying down, and are acquainted with all my ways" (Psalm 138:3-4). What does it mean "from afar"? While I still journey here on earth, before I reach my true home, You understand my thoughts. The younger son went into a far country. After toil and sorrow, he remembered his father and desired to return, saying, "I will arise and go to my father." He resolved to rise before he sat down. Here, you observe him stating: "You have known how I sat down and rose up." I sat down in want; I rose up craving Your sustenance. You have perceived my thoughts from afar. I have wandered far indeed; yet where can he not find You, from whom I have strayed? Thus, the Lord said in the Gospel that his father encountered him as he went forth. Truly, for he understood his thoughts from afar. "My way," he said, "what but a bad way," the path he took to abandon his father? What is my way? The journey I have traversed. What is my limit? What I have accomplished. You have marked my path and my boundary. Though distanced, that boundary was not hidden from Your gaze. I traveled far, yet You were present. And all my paths You observed beforehand. He didn’t simply say "saw," but "saw in advance." Before I traversed them, before entering them, You saw them beforehand; and You allowed me to wander in toil, that if I chose not to toil, I might return to Your paths. For there is no falsehood on my lips. What did he mean by this? Behold, I confess to You, I have gone my own way, I have distanced myself from You, from whom it was good for me, and in my separation, I have found my own misery.
"Behold, You know all my works, the final and the ancient" (Psalm 138:5). You recognized my recent deeds while tending swine; You recalled my ancient deeds when I requested my share of the estate. Those ancient actions resulted in the beginning of all my present woes: the original sin wherein we fell; the last punishment when we entered this laborious and perilous mortality. If that was the end for us, it will be the case if we now wish to return. For there remains one last fate for some wicked individuals, to whom it shall be declared, "Depart into everlasting fire" (Matthew 25:41). You have fashioned me and placed Your hand upon me. Where have You fashioned me? In this mortality, now prepared for the labor for which we were all created. For no one is born without God's agency, who forms him in his mother's womb; there is no creation whose Maker is not God. Yet You have fashioned me in this labor, laying upon me Your avenging hand, Your chastening hand, humbling the proud. For in such a healing manner He has humbled the proud, that He might elevate the humble.
"Your skill has been wonderfully manifest in me; it has become powerful, and I cannot reach it" (Psalm 138:6). Consider this: it may seem obscure, yet it is delightful to comprehend. Moses, the holy servant of God, to whom God spoke through a cloud, needed to communicate with his servant through some of His created works. He longed to see God’s true presence and implored, "If I have found favor in Your sight, show me Your glory" (Exodus 33:13). When he fervently desired this, God responded, "You cannot see My face, for no man can see My face and live" (Exodus 33:20). "But I will place you in the cleft of the rock and cover you, and when I pass by, you will see My back." From these words arises another mystery, a veiled figure of truth. "When I pass by," says God, "you shall see My back," as if there were a front and a back to His majesty. We find no such notions of this greatness! For if anyone harbors such ideas about God, what benefit is it to him that the temples remain closed? He constructs an idol in his heart. These words convey profound mysteries. Those who were angered by the Lord whom they had seen now seek counsel for salvation, and it is directed to them, "Repent, and be baptized, every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ, and your sins will be forgiven" (Acts 2:38). Behold, they saw His back, even though His face was hidden. His hand was not eternally over their eyes, but while He was passing by. Once He had departed, He withdrew His hand, and then they asked the disciples, "What shall we do?" First they were cruel, then compassionate; first angry, then fearful; first hardened, then softened; first blind, then enlightened.
Behold, you discover that a fugitive in a distant land cannot escape the gaze of the One from whom he flees. And where shall he now go, whose limit is reached? Is this what he questions? "Where shall I go from Your Spirit?" (Psalm 138:7). Who can escape from that Spirit who infuses the entire world? "And where can I flee from Your presence?" He seeks a refuge from the wrath of God. What place can offer shelter for God's fugitive? Those who shelter such individuals inquire of whom they fled; upon learning he is a servant of someone less powerful than themselves, they shelter him unafraid, saying in their hearts, "He lacks a master to pursue him." But, when they hear of a mighty Lord, they either do not offer refuge or provide it out of great fear, for even a mighty man can be deceived. Where is there no God? Who can hide from God? Who is not seen by Him? To whom does He not demand accountability for their escape? Where can the fugitive go from the presence of God? He twists and turns as if seeking a place to flee.
"If I ascend to heaven, You are there; if I make my bed in Sheol, behold, You are there" (Psalm 138:8). Finally, wretched fugitive, you have come to learn that you cannot escape from Him from whom you sought to flee. Behold, He is everywhere; thus, where will you go? He has provided counsel, inspired by Him who enabled you to remember it. If, after sinning, I descend to the depths of wickedness and refuse to confess, thinking, "Who sees me?" (for in Sheol, who confesses to You?), You are present to deal out punishment. Where can I go to evade Your presence, that is, to not find You wrathful? Such plans he concocts: I will flee from Your presence; I will flee from Your Spirit, from Your avenging Spirit, from Your wrathful countenance. How? "If I take the wings of dawn and settle in the furthest parts of the sea" (Psalm 138:9). Thus do I attempt to flee from Your visage. If he can run to the extremes of the sea fleeing the face of God, will not the One from whom he flees be there? For what is the end of the sea if not the end of the world? Let us now fly with hope and yearning on the wings of double love; let us find no rest except in the distant reaches of the sea. For if we desire solace elsewhere, we shall be cast headlong into the sea. Let us escape to the deepest part of the sea and ascend on the wings of dual love; meanwhile, let us turn to God in hope and in unwavering assurance mediate at the other end of the sea.
Now listen to the One who can guide us there, the very One from whose anger we wish to flee. What follows? "There Your hand shall guide me, and Your right hand shall hold me" (Psalm 138:10). On this let us reflect, beloved brethren; let it be our hope, our comfort. Let us reclaim, through love, the wings we lost to lust. For lust was the weight anchoring our wings, drawing us down from the freedom of our heavenly expanse, that is, the unimpeded breeze of the Spirit of God. As we fell, we lost our wings and were thus ensnared by the fowler; however, He redeemed us through His blood, from whom we sought escape. He reshapes our wings through His commandments; we now lift them up, unburdened... Thus, we must have wings, and He must guide us, for He is our Helper. We possess free will, yet, even with this free will, what can we accomplish without Him who commands us offering assistance?
Considering the length of the journey, what did he say to himself? "Perhaps darkness will cover me" (Psalm 138:11). Behold, I have put my faith in Christ; now I soar on the wings of double love. Regarding the distance of the trek, I told myself: the night felt bright in my ecstasy. The night was illuminated in my joy because at that time I feared crossing such a vast sea, overcoming such a great distance, reaching the furthest places, and persevering to the end. I am grateful to Him who sought me as a fugitive, who struck my back with the scourge's blows, who through a call restored me from ruin, and who made my darkness into light. For as long as we exist in this life, darkness will encroach. How did the night turn bright? Because Christ descended into the night... "For the darkness cannot overwhelm You" (Psalm 138:12). Do not let your darkness become dim; God does not dim it but illuminates it greater still; for it is spoken in another psalm, "You, O Lord, will light my candle; my God will enlighten my darkness." Who are those that darken their darkness? The wicked; the perverse. When they sin, they become darkness; when they refuse to confess their transgressions but insist on justifying them, they exacerbate their darkness. Therefore, if you have sinned, you dwell in darkness, but by confessing your plight, you will receive light for your darkness; by defending your sin, you will deepen your darkness. And where can you run from double darkness, having struggled in single darkness? Let us not darken our own darkness by defending our sins, and the night will transform into joy.
THEOSIS