Psalm 39 (38):4Meaning & Commentary from the Church Fathers

Caught in a state of uncertain anticipation, torn between speaking out and remaining silent, between those who are quick to criticize and those eager for guidance, I find myself longing for a better circumstance, one unlike the burdensome existence I currently endure, filled with trials and peril. I yearn for a purpose that should not have subjected me to such trials. When the Lord welcomes the faithful steward with the words, Enter into the joy of thy Lord, I find myself in the Gospel's declaration: ‘Then have I spoken with my tongue’ (Matthew 25:27). In this moment of uncertainty, amidst peril and hardship, as temptations abound and love grows cold in many (Matthew 24:12), despite the joy that the Law of the Lord can inspire, it is in this wavering that I uttered my words. To whom did I speak? Not to the audience I sought to teach, but to Him who listens and understands, from whom I yearn to learn. I spoke with my tongue to Him from Whom I inwardly discern all that is good or true. - What have You communicated?

This is the fire that diminishes sin and obliterates its guilt through its warmth. This flame is ignited by reflecting on the divine Scriptures; Jeremiah seems to refer to this when he declares, "And there was a blazing fire enclosed in my bones" (Jeremiah 20:9). Cleopas and his companion may have spoken of this fire after the Resurrection when Christ joined them, asking, "Did not our heart burn when he expounded the Scriptures to us?" (Lk. 24:32). The Lord came to cast this fire upon the earth (Luke 12:49), to enlighten all souls, to ignite fervor, and to consume sin.

When he suggests that we should reflect, he aligns with Theodoret, recognizing that considering both the transgressions he has committed and the afflictions that have arisen from them causes a continuous flame of sorrow to ignite within his heart, consuming his very soul. According to Gregory of Nyssa and the Monk Neil, contemplation of the sacred words of the Spirit, when polished and examined like refined gold, eradicates the essence of sinful thoughts and generates a spiritual fire that nourishes the intellect, preparing it for fervent prayer and presenting reasoned requests to God. For in one who allows meditation on divine truths to be kindled by the fire of David, the flame of love for spiritual reflection ignites, transforming his strong desires into a blazing passion. Origen notes that while contemplating the sacred words, he felt fervent, comparing himself to Cleopas and his companions, who asked, “Was not our heart burning within us?” This reflects the reality of being inflamed with sorrow while remaining silent, resonating with the exhortation to be angry yet not sin. While to avoid anger may be beyond our capacity, the ability to do so through reasoned thought is attainable for the saints. Theodoret speaks of igniting with sorrow over remembered sin. Pachymeris adds that if my heart had not been warmed through constant reflection on my beloved topic, the fire of elevation and completeness could not have been sparked, echoing the truth that "in my meditation a fire will be kindled." As Origen explains, David was quiet before his adversary but spoke to God, indicating that his words were whispered, akin to the ancient Anne, the mother of Samuel. What he communicated is elaborated in the subsequent expressions.

Secret knowledge and contemplation serve as a refuge for the soul, with an unyielding pillar, offering a tranquil sanctuary where the soul finds salvation. The demons are greatly disturbed and say that when a monk immerses himself in hidden teaching, meaning prayer: "Lord, Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me," and engages in solitary reading of the Divine Scriptures, this concealed wisdom acts as a mirror for the mind and a light for the conscience. The hidden doctrine eliminates fornication, subdues rage, dispels anger, humbles pride, eradicates vanity, and alleviates despair. Hidden wisdom enlightens the discerning mind, banishes lethargy, fosters humility, instills the fear of God, and invites tears of repentance. Such knowledge grants the monk genuine humility, serene watchfulness, and sincere prayer. It is a treasure in prayer that dispels contrary thoughts, confronts demons, and purifies the body. The hidden doctrine teaches patience, promotes self-restraint, and warns of Gehenna. It keeps the mind vigilant, directing it to contemplate death. This hidden knowledge is rich with good works, adorned with every virtue, and distanced from all wickedness, although it is not far from temptation.

The Holy Spirit operates in a similar fashion; He embodies peace and love and reconciles opposites so that neither water extinguishes fire nor fire evaporates water, nor does it scorch a feather. Through this, we learn the virtue of peace and love for one another. If we embody gentleness and kindness, we can endure all forms of adversity, and when we reflect upon them in the Holy Spirit, we understand that a dove remains unburned by fire. For purity is fearless in the presence of fire, exemplified by the dove, symbol of purity, which starkly contrasts with the testimony of the fiery furnace in Babylon, where the flames did not harm the three righteous youths.

We might wonder why the Holy Spirit manifested upon Christ as a dove, while He descended upon the apostles in the likeness of fire. Why was the Savior not also enveloped in fire? As we ponder this, we can look to the hymn concerning the Apostles which states, ‘Deliverance and purification, receive the dew of fire, O children of light.’ The apostles required liberation from sin and cleansing, hence the Holy Spirit came upon them in fire to eradicate these sinful thorns. But He did not only come as fire; there was also dew involved, as expressed in the line: ‘Receive the dew of fire.’ The fire was meant to burn away the thorns of sin, while the dew would wash away the ashes. The incarnate Son of God had no need for flame to scorch away sin or for cleansing dew, for He was without sin: ‘Cleansing, as God is, is not required.’ Therefore, the Holy Spirit descended upon Him not in fire but in the guise of a pure dove, embodying Christ's own purity and freedom from sin. While the apostles loved God, their love for humanity was not yet perfected; thus, the Holy Spirit’s fiery descent was necessary to ignite their hearts with the fullness of divine love. In contrast, Christ the Savior did not require such fire, for He was always filled with love and possessed the Holy Spirit—the very essence of love—who binds the Father and the Son in an inseparable union.

Furthermore, the apostles sought enlightenment, having previously dwelled in darkness and lacking complete knowledge of the Holy Trinity. Enlightenment is typically associated with fire, but the Savior needed no such illumination; He was light even while in human form, fully knowing the Father: ‘Who knows the Father, but the Son’ (Matthew 11:27). That is why the Holy Spirit refrained from coming upon Him in the form of fire. Shifting focus, we must regard our faith in the Holy Spirit as ‘the interconnection of the dove in the brilliance of gold.’ Just as the ram's horns connect the two wings, our faith ought to connect—like wings—the love of God with love for one another. Like a bird cannot rise with only one wing, love cannot ascend to heaven with merely one aspect of love. Both aspects must be imbued with the silver of which David stated: ‘The words of the Lord are pure, the silver is refined’ (Psalm 17:31). The wisdom of God instructs us in love for the Divine and love for others; this pure silver represents such wisdom, ignited by fervor for both God and neighbor. The Holy Spirit harmonizes these silvered wings—love for God and love for neighbor—ensuring that neither aspect exists independently, for He embodies the very love shared between God the Father and God the Son, which is poured upon humanity like molten silver or gold: ‘The love of God has been poured out in your hearts by the Holy Spirit who was given to you’ (Rom. 5:5). These wings of the dove, which unite the dual love as two wings, should also shine brightly: ‘her interconnection in the glittering gold,’ for as gold enhances all things, so love is the fullest, most beautiful, and commendable trait, directed toward both God and neighbor, melding them together.

Having likened the Holy Spirit to gold, let us now turn to the symbol represented upon it—the fire that burns upon the altar. There were two fires in God’s temple within the Old Testament tabernacle established by Moses. One fire was kept on the altar. This fire had previously descended from heaven to consume the sacrifices offered by Aaron. By divine command, it was vigilantly maintained to ensure it never extinguished, shining perpetually, both day and night. The priests in charge referred to it as the fire of God, using it solely for specific sacrifices and offerings, while any other use was strictly forbidden. The second fire burned outside the temple’s entrance. This fire was earthly and ordinary, referred to as the fire of strangers, which could not be used for offerings to God nor permitted within the temple. However, when Aaron’s sons, Nadab and Abihu, took this civilian fire into their censers and dared to offer it in the temple, fire from the Lord appeared and consumed them.

Our love for God must always burn within our hearts, fueled and sustained by divine contemplation: ‘In my teaching (i.e., in divine contemplation) shall it be kindled.’ Foreign fire—worldly, sinful influences—must not be welcomed into our hearts, lest we face the eternal flames of judgment. Let us approach the Holy Spirit from our innermost selves, with humility and devotion to the Lord, offering our spirits renewed and penitent. As my words bear witness, God whom I serve with my spirit is my witness. Amen.

This is akin to the experience of the righteous, whose hearts aspire toward the Lord (Psalm 83:6). Had they devoted their hearts to emptiness, they might have escaped the enemy's assault; yet, in their pursuit of God, they provoke opposition from the foe. Thus, when the flesh or the enemy unleashes their arrows against us or ignites a destructive fire within our hearts, let us remember that we face the same trials that confronted David. His life serves as a reflection of human frailty, guiding us to learn from his experience and seek refuge in the protective embrace of the Almighty. These concluding words, which I express clearly, are not without purpose, but rather serve as a sincere acknowledgment of our failings.