The soul is called to glorify God, as reflected in the words, "Praise the Lord, O my soul" (Psalm 144:1). In times of trials and temptations we may find our souls distressed, a struggle articulated in another psalm. To alleviate this turmoil, joy is offered—not in present reality, but in the assurance of hope—and in times of sadness, it is proposed to the troubled soul, "Hope in God, for I will yet confess before him."
Now, who speaks thus and to whom? Can it be the flesh urging the soul, "Praise the Lord, my soul"? Can the flesh truly guide the soul? Even when the flesh yields and serves us under the strength God grants, it remains a servant; its obedience is enough if it does not obstruct our spirits. The body, being physical, is inherently inferior to the soul, which is far more precious—every soul, regardless of its flaws, possesses a dignity that surpasses even the most commendable body. This may seem surprising, but the intrinsic value of the soul is greater by nature, not merely by actions. A soul, though stained with sin, still holds worth; just as tarnished gold is valued more than polished lead.
As we contemplate creation, we see the truth of this assertion: the soul, despite its shortcomings, is of greater honor than an esteemed body. There are, indeed, two entities to consider: the soul and the body. The soul is reproached for its sins, while the body is esteemed for its health. In my own reflections, I both acknowledge and admonish the soul, and similarly honor or critique the body. If one asks which is superior, prepare for an astonishing revelation.
Consider how we might praise a fine horse but still favor it for its utility. The nature of the soul exceeds that of the body; it is spiritual and incorporeal, akin to the very essence of God. The soul, somewhat unseen, directs the body, influences actions, engages the senses, forges thoughts, and perceives a multitude of images. In summary, dear brethren, who is there to whom the soul's praises are insufficient? Despite this, it is grace that enables one to proclaim, "Praise the Lord, my soul."
It is not the body that declares this, for even an angelic-form human being is still beneath the soul’s divine nature and offers no counsel to the higher calling. When the flesh is in proper subservience, it becomes a helper to the soul; the soul commands while the body complies. Thus, can it be that the soul speaks to itself, urging and questioning its own state? Struggling due to passions in one portion of its nature, the soul engages reason—attaching itself to God and yearning for Him—realizing that lower aspects may be clouded with worldly pursuits, leading it away from the divine presence. Thus, it recollects itself, shifting focus from earthly matters back to the divine, and proclaims, "Praise the Lord, my soul."
The soul, enlightened by God’s light, understanding wisdom from its Maker’s eternal essence, recognizes what must be feared, esteemed, cherished, desired, and chased after. At times, dazzled by divine brightness, it finds difficulty staying there. Therefore, it regains awareness, affirming, "Praise the Lord, my soul." Then, as if weighed down and unable to rise correctly, the soul echoes back, "In my life I will praise the Lord" (Psalm 145:2). What does it mean to live in such a way? While in the shadow of death, the soul must first encourage itself, proclaiming, "Praise the Lord, my soul."
In response, the soul might admit, I can praise but weakly, only feebly. Why so? Because while we dwell in the body, we are distanced from the Lord (2 Corinthians 5:6). "In my life," the soul might say, though it can also respond, "My death." From whence comes this death? It arises from being separated from the Lord. If life is found in clinging to Him, then separation signifies death. What then is your comfort? Hope. We live in hope; in hope, we shall praise, and in hope, we shall sing. Our death stems from the sorrows of this life while we hold hope for the life to come. How will I extol my Lord? "I will sing to my God as long as I exist." What does it mean to exist? To sing in eternal praise is to enjoy everlasting life.
Dear brethren, consider your existence. Will you lift your voice in praise as you exist? Often, we lose ourselves in pursuits, failing to sing, yet we still exist; yet mere existence devoid of praise is insufficient. If we live solely in existence without glorifying the Creator, what benefit is there? The "while I exist" suggests a question: Is there an end to this existence? No, for true longevity is everlasting; for anything with a temporal conclusion, no matter how extended, lacks true perpetuity.
"Put not your hope in princes" (Psalm 145:3). We are reminded of our significant calling. As a voice from above, we are advised not to allow despair to rule in times of hardship, leaning instead on mankind. When advising someone in distress, we could say, A powerful figure may offer salvation—he smiles, brings joy, and appears exalted. Yet when you mention, "May God deliver you," his attitude shifts toward despondency. Why cherish reliance on transient beings over the eternal God? You rejoice in the promise of help from one who, too, requires salvation while dismissing assistance from the eternal Liberator. Such thoughts reveal a profound sadness and a great danger.
Let us draw near and long for the One who created us; He will never abandon His work unless we forsake Him. "His breath shall go out, and he shall return to his land: in that day all his thoughts shall be gone" (Psalm 145:4). Where lies arrogance, pride, or boasting? No matter how glorious they seem, they may meet their end. I cannot say where proud souls have departed, as such a fate is written of in another psalm, revealing their wicked journey.
"I saw a wicked man lifted up above the cedars of Lebanon, and I passed by, and behold, he was not there; and I looked for him, and there was no place for him." The righteous, who pass by the wicked, reach a destination where the unholy do not dwell. Thus, dear ones, let us heed this wisdom: regardless of tribulation or heavenly aspirations, do not place your hope in princes or in mankind, for in them lies no salvation; their essence is mortal, transient, and fleeting. What shall we do when we cannot rely on human aid? "Blessed is he to whom the God of Jacob is a Helper" (Psalm 145:5). Not reliant on man or angels, but blessed is he who finds assistance in the God of Jacob, the same God who guided Jacob to become Israel.
Oh mighty Helper! He now watches over Israel, as they behold God. While still wandering in faith without fullness of sight, if you make the God of Jacob your Support, you shall be transformed from Jacob into Israel, and your struggles shall cease, burdens lift, and joy-filled praises abound. Just as Jacob finds happiness in hopeful trust amid life's groanings, we must find our faith in the Father, the Creator of all, through our Lord Jesus Christ (1 Corinthians 8:6).
Let Him be your hope; trust in the Lord your God, knowing that even those who worship other deities may eventually find hope—whether Saturn, Neptune, or otherwise—each drawn by their own beliefs. The blessed one, however, finds hope in the Lord his God, "Who made heaven and earth, the sea and all that is in them" (Psalm 144:6). Great is our God; let us praise His holy Name for making us His inheritance. Though we do not see Him yet, our love for Him can grow as we marvel at His creation.
As you behold the heavens and the earth and consider the vastness of the sea, you can hardly grasp the expanse of creation. Observe the innumerable stars and the plethora of life across the earth, in the skies, and in the waters—all awesomely crafted by our God. Place your hope in Him for true happiness, for He is a strong and benevolent Creator.
If His greatness gives rise to doubt, contemplate that He has also fashioned you alongside all creation. You might claim to be neither the heavens nor the earth nor the sea, yet at least you inhabit the earth. God created all within the heavens, earth, and sea; you are not too insignificant in His sight. He cares for each created being, including sparrows and worms, and those He created He also sustains.
His concern goes beyond rules; legislative laws are directed solely to humanity. Reflect on this: God does not care for oxen (1 Corinthians 9:9), but His providence oversees every facet of creation. "You, Lord, will save both man and cattle." Some question these differing views across Testaments, yet our Lord Jesus teaches us to observe the birds—they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, yet your heavenly Father feeds them (Matthew 6:26). Even creatures devoid of the law receive His nurturing gaze.
"Are not two sparrows sold for one farthing?" And not one falls without your Father's will (Matthew 10:29). Perhaps you doubt your significance in this vastness. Be assured that even the hairs on your head are counted (Matthew 10:30).
What then is truth that endures? What eternal verity is preserved by Him? He executed justice on behalf of the wronged (Psalm 145:7), ensuring retribution for injustices suffered. Yet take heed, Apostle Paul reminds us, "Therefore, all guilt is among you…" (1 Corinthians 6:7). He urges us to bear unjust suffering rather than cause strife among ourselves, as not all trials stem from wrongdoing.
Reflect on your situation—consider the actions that brought you to your state of suffering. Not all who encounter hardship are deserving of it. Both thieves and the wicked face tribulations without true consequence. Going through hardship unjustly is one thing; experiencing rightful consequences is another. Recognize where you stand, understand your reasons for suffering—clarity will help you discern whether you are truly under unfair trials versus consequences of actions taken.
God nourishes the hungry. Who are the hungry? All creation. Each living being, all men, receive sustenance from God. For His beloved, He has something special. We must discern what their hunger signifies to find suitable nourishment: "Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be filled" (Matthew 5:6). We must genuinely hunger for God’s justice.
"The Lord sets the bound free; the Lord lifts up the fallen; the Lord makes the blind wise" (Psalm 145:8). In this statement lies a summation of many preceding thoughts: when speaking of deliverance, we must consider chains that ensnare the guilty. Reflecting on falling, we must realize there’s more than mere physical missteps; spiritual blindness, deeper darkness, and true enlightenment exist as well.
As the blind find wisdom, the imprisoned are liberated. By what have we become bound? By what means have we brought ourselves down? Once our bodies were a source of grace, now we are shackled by our own failings. Our mortality often binds us; yet God loves those who strive towards righteousness. Who then are the righteous? They are like you; the Lord sustains the proselytes (Psalm 144:9).
The proselytes, or strangers, among the peoples emulate the fathers not through bloodline but through faith. Yet, it is the Lord, not man, who keeps watch over them. He embraces the orphan and widow—not due to a claim over them, but because of a loving relationship. We must remember that on a deeper level, we are all orphans—not because our Father is dead, but because He is presently distant.
He will also uproot the paths of sinners; what is this path? The path that mocks our narratives. Those questioning our faith invite doubt, emphasizing worldly pleasure and dismissing spiritual realities. The temporal pursuit—“Let us eat and drink, for tomorrow we die” (1 Corinthians 15:32)—is a dangerous mindset.