Our Lord Jesus Christ communicates through the Prophets, sometimes speaking in His own name and at other times in ours, for He intertwines Himself with us, as stated: "the two shall become one flesh." This explains why the Lord remarks in the Gospel, in reference to marriage, that they are no longer two but one flesh. One flesh, as He assumed our mortal nature; not one deity, since He is the Creator and we are His creation. Therefore, whatever our Lord declares in the persona of the flesh He adopted belongs to both the Head that has ascended into heaven and those members who continue to struggle on Earth. Let us listen to our Lord Jesus Christ as He speaks through prophecy. The Psalms were composed long before His birth from Mary, yet not before He became our Lord: for from eternity, He has been the Creator of all, but in time, He was born from His own creation. Let us believe in this Divine nature and comprehend, as far as possible, His equality with the Father. Yet this Divine nature, equal to the Father, partook of our mortal condition, not from His own essence but from ours; so that we too may partake of His Divine nature, not from our essence but from His.
“Lord, You have examined me and know me” (Psalm 138:1). Let our Lord Jesus Christ speak this as well; let Him also address the Father, saying: “Lord.” His Father is His Lord only in the context of His incarnation. He is the Father of God and the Lord of Man. Do you recognize who He is 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). It is this form of God that is the Father — the form equal to Himself, the only begotten Son, derived from His own essence. Yet for our benefit, that we might be transformed and made participants in His divine nature to attain eternal life, He took on our mortal nature. What does the Apostle say of Him? “But He emptied Himself, taking the form of a servant, being made in the likeness of men” (Philippians 2:7). He was in the form of God, equal to the Father; He took upon Himself the form of a servant, thus becoming less than the Father.
“You know my sitting down and my rising up” (Psalm 138:2). What does it mean to sit or rise? One who sits humbles himself. The Lord sat in His Passion and rose in His Resurrection. You, He states, knew this; that is, You willed and approved it; by Your will, it was accomplished. However, if you choose to see the words of the Head in the persona of the Body: a man sits down when he humbles himself in repentance, and he rises when his sins are forgiven, lifted to the hope of eternal life. Do not seek to exalt yourselves unless you have first humbled yourselves. Many wish to stand before they have knelt, to appear righteous before admitting their sinfulness.
“You understand my thoughts from afar; You scrutinize my path and my lying down, and are acquainted with all my ways” (Psalm 138:3-4). What does it mean to be afar off? While I journey through life, before I reach my true home, You know my thoughts. The younger son departed to a distant land. After his toil, suffering, and need, he remembered his father and wished to return, saying, "I will arise and go to my father." He declared he would arise before he sat down. Here, you can see him expressing: “You knew how I sat down and rose up.” I sat down in need; I rose up in desire for Your sustenance. You understood my thoughts from afar. Indeed, I have traveled far; but where can I go that He, whom I have forsaken, is not found? Therefore, the Lord states in the Gospel that his father met him on his journey. Indeed, He understood his thoughts from afar. My path, he says; what could it be but a poor one, being the way that led me to abandon my father? What is my path? That which I have traversed. What is my limit? That which I have accomplished. You have traced my steps and my boundaries. Though my limits may seem distant, they are not out of Your sight. I have gone far, yet You were there, and all my ways You foresaw. He did not say, “saw,” but “saw in advance.” Before I walked upon them, before I entered them, You beheld them ahead of time; and You allowed me to wander through labor, so that if I would not toil, I might turn back to Your paths. For there is no deceit on my tongue. What does this imply? Behold, I confess to You; I have walked my own way, grown far from You, and strayed away from You, with whom I thrived, and for me, it has been painful without You.
“Indeed, You know my works, the last and the first” (Psalm 138:5). You recognized my last actions when I was tending swine; You recalled my early deeds when I sought my share of the inheritance. The former actions led to the greatest sorrows: the ancient sin at our fall, followed by the last chastisement as we entered into this burdensome and perilous mortality. But while this was the last point for us, so it shall be if we now desire to return. There remains a final deadline for certain wicked individuals, to whom it will be said, “Depart into everlasting fire” (Matthew 25:41). You fashioned me and placed Your hand upon me. Where did You form me? In this mortal state; for the effort for which we are all born. For no man is born of himself, but God formed him in his mother’s womb; every creature's maker is God. Yet You made me in this endeavor, and laid Your avenging hand upon me, teaching through hardships; for He brings down the proud to lift up the humble.
“Your skill has been marvelously displayed in me; it has become potent; I cannot grasp it” (Psalm 138:6). Listen closely now and grasp something truly profound yet deeply pleasurable to understand. Moses, the holy servant of God, to whom God spoke from the cloud, needed some work of His hands through which to communicate. He yearned to behold the truth of God’s presence and implored, “If now I have found grace in Your sight, show me Your glory” (Exodus 33:13). Desiring deeply and beseeching God with a familiar intimacy, as God deemed it fitting to speak with him, that he might witness His glory and face, God replied, “You cannot see My face, for no man can see My face and live” (Exodus 33:20). “But I shall place you in the cleft of the rock, and I will pass by and cover you with My hand; when I pass by, you will see My back” (Exodus 33:22). From these words arises another mystery, an indirect representation of truth. “When I pass by,” declares God, “you will see My back,” as if He had a face on one side and a back on the other. We should not harbor such thoughts regarding this Majesty! For anyone who thinks of God in this manner, what good does it do him if the temples are closed? He merely constructs an idol in his heart. These words embody significant mysteries... Those who were incensed by the Lord whom they beheld now seek counsel on how to be saved, and it is said 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, which they could not see His face. For His hand was not forever covering their eyes, but during His passing. Once He had moved by, He removed His hand from their sight. When the hand was withdrawn from their eyes, they asked the disciples, “What shall we do?” First, they were cruel, then loving; first angry, then afraid; first harsh, then pleasant; first blind, then enlightened.
Behold, a fugitive in a distant land cannot escape the gaze of the One from whom he flees. And now, where can he go whose limits are exhausted? Is that what he asks? “Where can I go from Your Spirit?” (Psalm 138:7). Who in this world can escape the Spirit that fills it? “And where can I flee from Your presence?” He seeks refuge from God’s wrath. What place can shelter God's fugitive? Those who shelter fugitives inquire whom they have fled from; and when they discover someone enslaved to a lesser master, they shelter him without fear, thinking, “He has no master to pursue him.” But when they learn of a mighty lord, they either do not offer refuge or do so with great trepidation, for even a powerful man can be misled. Where is there no God? Who can deceive God? Who is unseen by God? From whom does God not demand accountability? Where will that fugitive go from the gaze of God? He twists and turns, seeking a place of escape.
“If I ascend to heaven, You are there; if I make my bed in hell, You are present” (Psalm 138:8). Finally, wretched fugitive, you have understood that there is no means by which you can flee from the One from whom you wish to depart. Behold, He is everywhere; where will you go? He found counsel, inspired by Him who chose to remember it. If, having sinned, I descend into the depths of wickedness, refusing to confess, asking, “Who sees me?” (for in Hades, who confesses to You?), You are present there to chastise. Where can I go that I may flee from Your presence, that is, so I may not find You angry? Such was the plan he devised: “I will flee, so I will escape from Your face, so I will flee from Your Spirit; from Your fierce Spirit, from Your stern countenance, so I will escape.” How? “If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the remotest parts of the sea” (Psalm 138:9). Thus might I flee from Your face. If he scampers to the farthest reaches of the sea to escape God's gaze, will not the One from whom he flees be present there...? For what is the end of the sea but the end of the world? There let us run with hope and longing on the wings of double love; let us find no rest save in the furthest depths of the sea. For should we seek solace in any other place, we shall find ourselves plunged into the depths. Let us hasten to the edge of the sea, soaring on the wings of double love; in the interim, may we run toward God in hope, and with assured expectation, may we meditate at the other side of the sea.
Now heed the One who can guide us there. The very One from whom we wish to evade in wrath. What follows from this? “And there Your hand shall lead me, and Your right hand shall uphold me” (Psalm 138:10). Let us reflect on this, beloved brethren; let it be our hope, our comfort. Let us reclaim, through love, the wings we have relinquished through lust. For lust served as the glue that weighed down our wings, casting us from the freedom of our heavenly heights, that is, the liberating breeze of God's Spirit. As we fell, we lost our wings and were, so to speak, ensnared by the fowler; yet He redeemed us by His blood, from whom we fled to face captivity. He restores us with the wings of His commandments; we now lift them up, free from the confines. Thus, we must possess wings, and He must guide us, for He is our Helper. We have free will; yet, even with this free will, what can we achieve unless He who commands aids us?
THEOSIS