The soul is called to exalt God, prompting a personal reflection: “Praise the Lord, O my soul” (Psalm 144:1). In moments of trials and temptations of life, our souls may find themselves in distress, as expressed in another psalm. To alleviate this unrest, joy is presented—not yet realized, but anticipated; thus, we are reminded in our sorrow, “Hope in God, for I will yet confess before him.” But who makes this declaration, and to whom is it directed? What can we discern, dear brethren? Does our flesh instruct the soul to “Praise the Lord”? Can the body provide wise counsel to the soul? Although the flesh can be subdued and serve us through the divine grace bestowed by the Lord, it is simply a servant in our service; it is sufficient that it does not obstruct us. The body, being earthly, is subordinate to the soul; indeed, every soul possesses intrinsic worth greater than even the most esteemed body. Do not be surprised that even the most flawed and sinful soul surpasses the finest body in worth—not in merit, but in essence. Although the soul may be blemished by sin, it remains more precious than a shiny and polished body, for even a tarnished gold retains more value than fine lead. Reflect on all of creation, and you will find that it is not astonishing that a guilty soul may still be more commendable than an honorable body. We recognize two entities: the soul and the body. While I critique the soul for its sin, I commend the body for its vitality. Yet, within my critique of the soul, I acknowledge its worth; likewise, I commend or critique the body as the case may be. If you inquire which is superior, whether my critique or my praise, a remarkable reply will emerge. You might speak of a finer horse versus a lesser man, yet ultimately, your preference lies with the horse you commend. The nature of the soul excels beyond that of the body; it is spiritual and immaterial, akin to the essence of God. It is somewhat elusive, governing the body, orchestrating its movements, guiding its senses, preparing thoughts, executing actions, and perceiving countless images. In conclusion, beloved brethren, who is able to suffice with mere praises of the soul? Despite this, such grace is bestowed upon this individual, prompting him to say, “Praise the Lord, my soul.” It is certainly not the flesh that makes this proclamation. Though the body may appear angelic, it is always beneath the soul, incapable of advising the higher realm. When the flesh is in proper subjugation, it becomes the soul's servant: the soul commands, the body follows; how then can the flesh offer such guidance to the soul? Is it not the soul itself that engages in self-talk, motivating and interrogating itself? Due to certain passions in one aspect, it may hesitate, yet in another, termed reason—the wisdom that facilitates thought—it seeks union with God, yearning and recognizing that certain lower inclinations pull it toward worldly distractions, instead of remaining within God. Therefore, the soul reorients itself from external matters back to its true essence, affirming, “Praise the Lord, my soul.” The soul draws wisdom from the divine light, through which it grasps the truth captured within the eternal nature of its Creator. In this divine light, it perceives matters to be revered, cherished, desired, and pursued—overwhelmed by this radiant truth, it finds no power to linger there. It eventually regains composure, declaring, “Praise the Lord, my soul.” As if burdened and incapable of standing as it should, the soul responds: “In my life, I will praise the Lord” (Psalm 145:2). What encompasses my life? Here I am, amidst my own mortality. It begins with a self-encouragement: “Praise the Lord, my soul.” Your soul echoes this back, responding as best it can, albeit weakly and faintly. Why? Because while we dwell in the flesh, we are distanced from the Lord (2 Corinthians 5:6). When considering life, what is it? It may retort: “My death.” What produces my death? It stems from my separation from the Lord. If remaining close to Him signifies life, then being distanced equates to death. Yet, what provides comfort? It is hope. You currently live in hope: through hope you will praise, through hope you will sing. Your mortality arises from the sadness of this life; you live in anticipation of eternal life. How will you extol your God? “I will sing to my God as long as I exist.” What entails this praise I will sing as long as I exist? Contemplate, dear brethren, what true existence is: where there is perpetual praise, there one finds eternal life. You currently exist; will you not sing to God while you exist? You may have sung in devotion to some cause, but now your voice is silent, yet you maintain being: you possess existence without song. Perhaps your pursuits drive you towards it; you may not only refrain from singing, but also disturb God's hearing. What does it profit to praise in mere existence? And what of this existence? Will there come a time when it ceases? No, rather it is everlasting, and thus truly enduring. Whatever has a terminus in time, no matter how long, is still not eternal.
“Put not your hope in princes” (Psalm 145:3). Brethren, a significant task is presented to us—a divine call resonating from above. In moments of weakness, humanity often turns to despair, relying more on flawed beings than on God. When faced with calamity, we might say, “There is a great man who can assist you; he appears magnanimous, joyful, exalted.” Yet should we utter, “May God deliver you,” one may respond with coldness or despair. Why is it that a mortal’s aid brings joy, while the promise of divine assistance invokes sadness? You are assured deliverance from one who too requires salvation, and yet you rejoice; you are promised salvation from the Liberator who needs no deliverance, and you despair as if confronted with a myth. Woe to such beliefs; they reveal a tragic disconnect. Come nearer, begin to thirst, seek the God who created you; He will not abandon His creation unless His creation forsakes 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 is the boasting? Where is the arrogance? Perhaps such a one will find a good place, if indeed it exists. Yet, I do not know where he who boasts has gone. He spoke in pride; yet, I can see that their passage is indeed a wicked one. “I saw a wicked man exalted above the cedars of Lebanon; I passed by, and behold, he was not there; I searched for him, but there was no place for him.” The righteous, who noticed the absence of the wicked, have reached the realm where the unrighteous cannot tread. Therefore, beloved brethren, let us heed this truth: in any affliction, or pursuit of heavenly gifts, let us not place our trust in princes or the sons of men, for in them there is no salvation. All these are transient, ephemeral, and decaying. What is our recourse if we cannot rely on humanity? “Blessed is he to whom the God of Jacob is a Helper” (Psalm 145:5): not merely this man or the next, not any angel, but blessed is the one whose Helper is the God of Jacob, for He has proven Himself a mighty Helper to Jacob, transforming him into Israel. Oh, mighty Helper, he, as Israel, glimpses God. While yet an exile, unable to see God, if you possess the God of Jacob as your Helper, you too will rise to become Israel and shall behold God; all burdens and sorrows will alleviate, and joyful praise will prevail. Blessed is the one whose aid is in the God of Jacob. Why is such a one blessed? He places his trust in the Lord his God, even amidst groaning in this life. Who then is the Lord, his God? We acknowledge one God, the Father, from whom are all things, and one Lord, Jesus Christ, through whom are all things (1 Corinthians 8:6). Therefore, let the Lord your God be your hope; in Him your hope should rest. He also places his hope in a god; perhaps he worships Saturn, or Neptune, or Mercury, or even those who idolize their own desires, as stated: “whose god is their belly” (Philippians 3:19). Each adheres to their own god. Who is this blessed one? His hope lies in the Lord his God, the One who fashioned heaven, earth, the sea, and all that dwells within them (Psalm 144:6). My brethren, we serve a great God—let us bless His holy Name for deigning to make us His own. Though we do not yet see God, nor can we fully love what lies unseen, all we perceive has been wrought by His hand. You marvel at creation; why not marvel at the Creator? As you gaze upon the heavens, you are in awe; as you contemplate the earth, you tremble. Can you grasp the vastness of the sea? Look at the countless stars, the multitude of plant life, the diversity of creatures that swim, crawl, and soar; consider the beauty, magnificence, and wonder of it all! Behold, the One who brought forth all creation is your God. Place your trust in Him, that you may find happiness. His hope rests in the Lord your God. Take heed, dear brethren, for God is strong, good, the Creator of all. If He merely stated this, you might respond, “God who made the heavens, the earth, and the sea is indeed a great God; but does He regard me?” You would be reminded, “He created you.” In what manner? Are you the heavens, the earth, or the sea? Surely, you are neither; yet you dwell on the earth. At least acknowledge your earthly existence. But listen further: God did not only create the heavens, the earth, and the sea; He fashioned all that resides within them. Therefore, since He created all therein, He created you as well. It is a small matter to assert that you exist; even the sparrows, locusts, and worms, though lesser, are in His continuous care. His providential care does not concern merely His commandments; such commandments were bestowed uniquely upon humanity. Regarding the content of His commandments, He does not regard oxen (1 Corinthians 9:9), but He oversees the universe with care, guiding all creation. “You, Lord, will save both man and beast.” Here, some may argue: “God does not concern Himself with oxen,” pointing to the New Testament; while “You, Lord, wil save both man and cattle,” is drawn from the Old Testament. Detractors might claim that these Testaments lack coherence. Let us instead listen to our Lord, who is the Head and Teacher of the Apostles: “Consider the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, yet your heavenly Father feeds them” (Matthew 6:26). Hence, even apart from humanity, these creatures are nurtured by God’s hand. While they do not receive the law, they are provided for. As for the law, God is unconcerned with oxen. When it pertains to creation and sustenance, all rests with God. “Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing?” asks our Lord Jesus Christ, declaring that not a single bird falls to the ground without the Father’s will; how much greater value are you than they?