Psalm 139 (138):15Meaning & Commentary from the Church Fathers

Once more, he refers to the understanding of God, illustrating that He possesses knowledge of all things. He may be indicating either God's awareness of every hidden matter or alluding to the creation and formation of humanity: just as I was intricately crafted. You have not overlooked anything, for You are aware of all things; although nature sculpted me gradually, working in secrecy as if in the depths of the earth, to You, he asserts, everything is bare and visible. Another interpreter (Aquila) expresses it as such: my bones are not concealed from You, with whom I was fashioned in secret. The third (Simmachus) observes: my fortress is not hidden from You, through which I was shaped in secrecy, composed diversely as if from the depths of the earth.

Our Lord Jesus Christ communicates through the Prophets, sometimes identifying Himself directly, and at other times speaking on our behalf, uniting Himself with us, as it is written: "for this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh." This is why He declares in the Gospel regarding marriage that they are no longer two but one flesh. One flesh encompasses our human condition, as He took on our humanity; He is not merely divine, for He is the Creator, and we are His creation. Thus, every utterance of our Lord in the embodiment He assumed pertains both to that Head already ascended to glory and to the members enduring their earthly journey. Let us listen carefully to our Lord Jesus Christ in prophecy. The Psalms were composed long before He was born of Mary, yet He was Lord even then: eternally the Creator of all, but temporally born of His own creation. Let us trust in this divine nature and, as far as we are able, recognize Him as equal to the Father. This divine essence, equal to the Father, shared in our mortal experience, not of His own lineage but of ours, so that we too might share in His Divine essence, not of our nature but of His.

"Lord, Thou hast searched me and known me" (Psalm 138:1). Let the Lord Jesus Christ Himself proclaim this; let Him also address the Father: "Lord." For His Father is not merely His Lord in the sense of authority but in His willingness to be born in human flesh. He is the Father of God and the Lord of humanity. Do you understand to whom He is a Father? 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). The Father is the Form from which the only-begotten Son, begotten of His own Essence, emerges. However, for our benefit, that we might be transformed and partake in eternal life, He embraced our frail nature. What does the Apostle declare about Him? He states: "But He emptied Himself, taking the form of a servant, being made in the likeness of man, and being found in human form." He was in the Form of God, equal to the Father; yet He assumed the form of a servant to be lesser than the Father.

"You know my sitting down and my rising up" (Psalm 138:2). What does it mean to sit or to rise? He who is seated humbles himself. Thus, the Lord sat in His suffering and rose in His Resurrection. You, He says, were aware; that is to say, You willed it and approved it; according to Your will, it was accomplished. Yet, should you choose to accept the words of the Head within the Body's perspective: a person sits when humbling themselves in repentance, and they rise when their sins are forgiven, being lifted to the hope of everlasting life. Do not elevate yourselves unless you first lower yourselves, for many attempt to stand tall before they kneel in humility, to appear righteous before they acknowledge their sinful state.

"You understand my thoughts from afar; You have enclosed my path and my lying down, and are acquainted with all my ways" (Psalm 138:3-4). What is meant by afar? While I am still on my pilgrimage, before arriving at my true homeland, You know my thoughts. The younger son ventured into a distant land. After enduring labor, suffering, and need, he remembered his father and yearned to return, declaring, "I will arise and go to my father." He said, "I will arise," for he resolved to get up before he sat down. Here, you can see him affirming: "You knew my sitting down and my rising up." I sat in destitution; I rose seeking Your Bread. You comprehend my thoughts from far away. Indeed, I have journeyed far; yet, where is He whom I have abandoned? Therefore, the Lord indicates in the Gospel that his father met him while he was still on his way. Truly, for he knew his thoughts from a distance. "My path," he expresses; what else could it be but a misguided path, the one he took in leaving his father? What is my path? The journey I have traversed. What is my limit? What I have attained. You have observed my journey and my end. This limit of mine, regardless of how distant, was never out of Your sight. Though I roamed far, You were always present. "And all my ways You have seen beforehand." The psalmist specified, "have seen beforehand," not merely "saw." Before I walked them, before I entered them, You foresaw them; You allowed me to pursue my path of toil, so that, should I choose not to labor, I could return to Your ways. For there is no falsehood upon my lips. What does this signify? Behold, I confess to You: I have walked my own path, I have strayed from You, from whom I once experienced goodness, and I have suffered from being absent from You.

"Even before a word is on my tongue, behold, O Lord, You know it altogether" (Psalm 138:4). You are familiar with my every action, both recent and ancient (Psalm 138:5). You recognized my later actions when I tended swine; You were aware of my earlier acts when I asked for my share of the inheritance. Those early actions were the origin of my most recent sorrows: the primordial sin of our fall and the final discipline upon entering this wearisome mortal existence. And if there was indeed a last fate for us, so it will be for those who now choose to return. For there remains a final end for some evildoers, wherein it will be proclaimed, "Depart into eternal fire" (Matthew 25:41). "You have formed me and laid Your hand upon me." Where have You shaped me? In this mortality, now for the labors for which we have all been born. For no one is born without God's creation in the womb; there is no being whose maker is not God. But You have fashioned me for this labor and have placed upon me Your avenging hand, Your hand of retribution, which humbles the proud. So, in His mercy, He has brought down the proud to elevate the humble.

"Your artistry has been wonderfully wrought in me; it is marvelous, and I cannot fathom it" (Psalm 138:6). Pay attention now and consider something truly profound, yet delightful to comprehend. Moses, the esteemed servant of God, received words from Him through a cloud, as a human being must engage with the divine through His handiwork. He longed to witness the fullness of God's appearing, pleading, "If I have found favor in Your sight, show me Your glory" (Exodus 33:13). When he fervently desired to gaze upon God’s Glory and Face, God replied, "You cannot see My Face, for no one can see My Face and live" (Exodus 33:20). However, He added, "I will place you in the cleft of the rock and cover you with My hand as I pass by; when I have passed, you will see My back, but My face must not be seen." From this declaration emerges a further mystery, an obscure representation of truth. "When I pass by," God remarked, "you shall see My back," as if He possessed both a face and a back. Our understanding of His Majesty transcends such limited thoughts! For those who harbor thoughts of God in such a way do not find solace when the temples are closed; it is as if they construct an idol in their hearts. These words encapsulate immense mysteries. Those who have faced wrath from the Lord they have encountered now seek counsel on how they may be saved, and they are told, "Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of your sins" (Acts 2:38). Indeed, they glimpsed His back even though they could not perceive His face, for His hand was not hid from their eyes indefinitely; it was only while He was passing by. Once He left, He withdrew His hand from their sight. After this, they asked the disciples, "What must we do?" First, they were harsh, later tender; first, filled with rage, then filled with fear; initially calloused, then gentle; first blind, then enlightened.

"Where can I go from Your Spirit? Or where can I flee from Your presence?" (Psalm 138:7). A fugitive in a distant land cannot evade the gaze of the One from whom they flee. Where shall a person go once their limits are exhausted? Where could they hide from Your Spirit? Who can escape the Spirit that pervades the universe? "And where shall I flee from Your sight?" They seek a refuge from God's wrath. What place could shelter such a fugitive? Those who offer refuge inquire about from whom they have fled; when they find one who is enslaved to a lesser master, they shelter them without fear, rationalizing that the master poses no threat. Yet, upon learning of a mighty lord, they hesitate to provide refuge or do so in great trepidation, recognizing that even a powerful figure may be deceived. Where is there no God? Who can obscure themselves from God? Who exists outside of His awareness? From whom will God not demand an answer? Where will that fugitive go to escape the presence of God? They twist and turn, searching for a place to hide.

"If I ascend to heaven, You are there; if I make my bed in hell, You are there" (Psalm 138:8). At last, wretched fugitive, you have discovered that you cannot elude the One from whom you wish to flee. Behold, He is omnipresent; where indeed can you escape? You have sought counsel of Him who has inspired this realization... If, having sinned, I descend into the depths of wickedness and refuse to confess, reasoning, "Who sees me?" (for in the realm of the dead, who acknowledges You?), You are nevertheless there, poised to punish. Where may I go to evade Your presence, that is, to avoid encountering Your anger? Such a notion he considered: "I will attempt to escape from Your face; I will flee from Your Spirit; from Your avenging Spirit, I shall escape." How? "If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea" (Psalm 138:9). Could I flee from Your presence there? If he scurries to the farthest reaches of the sea, shall not the One he evades also be present? For what is the end of the sea but the edge of the world? Let us now venture forth with hope and longing on the wings of dual love; let us find no rest except in the extremes of the sea. For if we seek solace elsewhere, we throw ourselves headlong into the depths. Let us soar to the sea's edge and rise on the wings of double love; and in the meantime, let us direct our hearts toward God in hope, and with firm assurance let us contemplate the furthest shore.

Now listen to the One who can guide us there. The very One from whose face we wish to escape in anger. What comes next? "And Your hand shall lead me, and Your right hand shall support me" (Psalm 138:10). Let us reflect on this, dear brethren; let it be our hope and encouragement. Let us once more take up through love the wings we have lost to lust. For lust has mired our wings, weighing us down from the freedom of our heavenly existence, which is the gentle breeze of the Spirit of God. As we have fallen into despair, we have lost our wings and have, so to speak, been ensnared by the hunter; from whom He redeemed us with His blood, from those we fled to avoid capture. He empowers us with the wings of His commandments; now we exercise them freely, liberated from the weight of sin. We must possess wings, and therefore He must guide us, for He is our Support. We have free will, yet what can we accomplish with this will unless He who commands us provides assistance?

My bone is not concealed from You, which You have fashioned in obscurity. The formation of the woman, whom You have intricately created from my bone while I lay in a profound slumber, is not unknown to You; in fact, our hidden matters are revealed in secret to the One who designed the woman. You also shape my essence in the depths of the earth. Even if I am shattered and reduced to dust, this too is known to You.

The prophet declares that You are fully aware of all aspects related to me; You have shaped me even while I was concealed in my mother's womb, and brought me into the world as if from the farthest reaches of the earth. Aquila rendered it this way: My bones, which You have skillfully crafted, were not concealed from You, as if I were intricately woven in the depths of the earth. Nothing escapes Your sight, for You are the Creator of humanity, formed in that secret dwelling where all creation comes into being.

My bones, which You formed in secret, are not concealed from You, O Lord. You are aware of the very elements of my bones, which were enveloped by flesh to remain unseen. This could be interpreted differently; the bone of the husband represents his wife, as she is considered one of Adam's ribs. Thus, the woman whom You, O Lord, created from Adam's rib was not obscured from You at the moment of the fruit's consumption in the garden, as Isidore of Pilusiot explains. Isidore suggests that David spoke these words as Adam, expressing that the fall of my wife, fashioned from my bones while I was in deep slumber, was not hidden from You.

In his psalm, the illustrious David speaks of the reason for his forefather's transgression and implores the Lord for merciful forgiveness. While illustrating God's omniscience, from which nothing remains concealed, he also reflects on Adam’s goodwill post-fall, stating, "My bone was not hidden from Thee, which Thou hast made in secret." This means that the sin of my wife is not unknown to Thee, as she was fashioned from my rib while I was in a deep slumber; rather, our concealed matters were well within Thy knowledge, for Thou created her in the depths of secrecy.

The prophet reflects on the creation of humanity to illustrate that nothing escapes God's notice and that He surpasses even the most skilled artisans. Unlike these artists, who require sight to perform their craft, God forges us in the womb without any visual assistance. He likens the womb to the realm of the dead, where only shadows prevail. Consider an artist endeavoring to create in a pitch-black cave, devoid of light—where would he begin, and how could he progress or complete his work? In contrast, God, undeterred by the absence of illumination, brings forth the flawless masterpiece of human creation in the obscurity of the womb, akin to metals fashioned within the earth’s hidden depths. What prompts humanity to think it can conceal itself from God and sin so brazenly as we all do?