THEOSISAugustine of Hippo
This psalm is titled "For the sharpened." As you have observed with me, dear friends, nothing is mentioned in its content about any press, wine-basket, vat, or tools related to a lathe; none of this is found in our reading. Therefore, we are left to ponder the significance of this title referring to lathes. If the text had included references to such items, those focused on the material realm might have interpreted it as a song regarding physical lathes. Since the title appears without further mention of the known lathes, I am convinced that there are deeper meanings intended by the Holy Spirit. Let us contemplate what occurs in the physical mills and discern how this relates spiritually to the Church. The grapes remain on their vines, and olives thrive on their trees. These two fruits are typically pressed to extract their juice, and while they cling to their branches, they seem to enjoy unhampered existence; no wine or oil is produced. Similarly, individuals whom God has predestined to be molded after the image of His only Son (Romans 8:29) experience a kind of joyous freedom before they enter into God’s service, akin to grapes or olives hanging on their vines. Yet, it is written, "My son, when thou art approaching the service of God, stand in judgment and fear, and prepare thy soul for temptation" (Sirach 2:1). Thus, everyone who seeks to serve God must confront the sharpener; they will encounter affliction, brokenness, and oppression—not for their destruction in this life, but to access God’s treasures. The veils of worldly desires are removed like the skin of grapes, as the Apostle reminds us to "leave the old man and put on the new man." This transformation is realized through the pressing, which is why the believers in this era are referred to as sharpeners.
Now, who are those placed in the hands of the sharpeners? They are the sons of Korah. This follows the term "tochilam," denoting the sons of Korah, who represent those who seek to serve God to the best of their understanding. In our undergoing of pressure, we are broken so that, through our attachment to worldly and ephemeral things, we may endure suffering, challenges, and temptations in order to seek a rest that transcends this life and this earth. Consequently, the Lord becomes our refuge, as described: "What is a poor man?" A poor man is one who is destitute, lacking help or support, devoid of anything upon which he can rely in this world. For such a person, God is near. Although some may possess wealth on earth, they are often filled with fears rather than joy. What is more unstable than that which constantly shifts? While there is no inherent sin in possessing money, it cannot provide lasting security. Thus, even those who are wealthy remain poor in spirit. Those who desire wealth but lack it are also counted among the unfulfilled, for God assesses intentions rather than mere external appearances. The truly poor recognize their lack of worldly possessions, aware of their fleeting nature, and cry out to God. Oppressed and subject to numerous pressures, they flow forth, transforming into good desires—their sole passion directed towards God. They no longer love the world but instead long for Him who created heaven and earth. Their desire is patient, designed to grow; it enlarges so that it may be fulfilled. God will grant abundant blessings to the seeker, but it takes effort to prepare oneself for such a great gift. Not everything He created will be given, but He Himself, the Creator of all.
Therefore, beloved, let each person make vows and fulfill their obligations to the Lord according to their ability. Let no one look back or find comfort in past matters; let neither look away from what awaits but press on until they arrive. For we run not with our feet but with our longing. Yet, let no one claim to have fully arrived in this life, for who among us can claim perfection, even the Apostle Paul (Philippians 3:13) confessed he had not yet attained?
Should you feel the passions of the world even amidst joy, recognize that you are indeed in the grindstone. If the world smiles upon you, envision yourself amidst the trials and declare, "I have found trouble and heaviness, and I have called upon the name of the Lord." He does not speak of trivial troubles that may hide from some minds, who mistake their state of happiness while being distanced from God. For as it is said, "while we are in the body, we are far from the Lord" (2 Corinthians 5:6). If you were away from your father, wouldn’t you feel miserable? How can one be without the Lord yet claim to be happy? Some believe themselves to be well; yet, those who recognize their need, despite abundant wealth and pleasure, and who understand that good things yielding to their desires do not guarantee joy, grieve while absent from God. With keen insight, they identify their distress and call upon the Lord's name. Such are the ones who resonate with this psalm. Who is he? He is the body of Christ. Who are we collectively, with the desire to be part of this one body? "How lovely are thy dwellings, O Lord of hosts" (Psalm 82:1). He dwells within the forsaken portion but yearns for the places of serenity, desiring also to flow as if through longing desires.
And what follows? "My soul thirsts and long for the courts of the Lord" (Psalm 83:2). It is insufficient for the soul to merely strive; it longs for fulfillment. Why this yearning? The grapes, while pressed, seem diminished, but for what aim? They are pressed to become wine that can be stored away silently in the cellar. In one place, yearning exits while in another there exists satisfaction; here are prayers, there are praises; here are groans, and there is rejoicing. Let no one feel shame in acknowledging what I’ve discussed, nor should anyone hesitate to endure suffering. There is danger for grapes that fear the pressing, for they will not be gathered to bear fruit.
You have heard the sighs of the winepress, where my soul yearns and longs for the courts of the Lord: hear how the spirit holds fast in hope as "my heart and my flesh rejoice in the living God." Herein lies joy, sustained not by emptiness but by hope. What do we rejoice in? In the living God. What rejoiced? "My heart and my flesh." Why did they rejoice? Because "the sparrow has found a home, and the turtledove a nest wherein she may lay her young" (Psalm 83:3). He mentions two aspects, illustrated by two kinds of birds: the sparrow represents the heart, and the dove symbolizes the flesh. The sparrow finds shelter: my heart finds its refuge. It spreads its wings with the virtues of this life, anchored in faith, hope, and charity, which enable it to ascend; and once it arrives, it will dwell there, ceasing its lament. For this is the same sparrow, spoken of in another psalm, "As a sparrow alone on the roof." From this earthly dwelling, it flies home, transcending the confines of the earthly; now, let it tread upon the terrestrial, for it shall find a celestial and eternal home, silencing its complaints. And for the dove, He has provided flesh, that is, the womb: the dove secures a nest wherein it may have its young. The house symbolizes eternity, while the nest suggests temporality: our hearts envision God, like a sparrow seeking its home; through our flesh, good works are achieved. For consider how many acts of goodness are executed through the faithful saints; for it is through such acts that we fulfill our divine commands: "Break bread for the hungry, and bring the poor and homeless into your house; clothe the naked" (Isaiah 58:7), and other acts commanded of us, enabled only through our corporeal nature.
We remark this, dear brethren: how many perform good works outside the Church? How many among the Gentiles clothe the naked, feed the hungry, welcome the stranger, visit the sick, and comfort those in prison? Yet how many noble acts of kindness can heretics perform while being disconnected from the Church? They might not successfully nurture their young, for their offspring will stumble, unprotected. Within this faith lies your offspring, born of divine love; within that nest lie your actions. And what do we equate these nests to? "Your altars, O Lord of Hosts, are my King and my God." What does it mean to claim God as King and God? It refers to Him who governs me, my Creator.
"Blessed are those who dwell in Your house" (Psalm 83:4). If you reside in your own abode, you are poor; if you dwell in God's house, you are rich. In your own dwelling, anxieties about robbers loom; yet in God's house, He Himself guards you. Therefore, blessed are those who reside in His house. They encompass the heavenly Jerusalem freely and without reserve or competition; every person possesses everything. Great is this wealth. Those who are near one another are not encumbered by need; necessity does not infringe upon the divine abode. Consider, dear brethren, how even the highest professions that seem to uphold mankind, such as law and medicine, stem from necessity. Remove litigants, and what of a lawyer’s task? Without wounds or illness, what can a physician heal? All human endeavors arise from necessity—be it plowing, sowing, or swimming. Clear away hunger, thirst, and nakedness, and who would require any of these provisions? For instance, "Break bread for the hungry." To whom would you serve if no one hungers? What stranger could you invite if your entire nation needed shelter? Who would visit the sick in a realm of eternal health? Who would reconcile litigants in a domain of everlasting peace? What deceased person would you inter, where life is eternal? All those righteous deeds peculiar to humanity would cease to exist, as the fledglings soar from their nests. What remains, then? You've already heard what we attain: "Blessed are those who dwell in Your house." What shall they do? I perceive no need urging me onward. Will there be any reasoning there to instruct the ignorant or remind the forgetful? Or will the Gospel need to be recounted in a land where the Word of God is directly understood? They shall always praise You. That shall be our sole duty—unceasing adoration. Do not imagine, brethren, that weariness shall touch us there; if you struggle to endure length here, it is because worldly distractions pull you away from enjoyment. If the things unseen do not bring excessive joy here, how much more shall we rejoice in the presence of the visible? When death is swallowed in victory, when mortality is clad in immortality (1 Corinthians 15:54), none shall sigh of weariness; no one will declare, “I have endured long,” nor “I have fasted long,” nor “I have kept vigil long.” There shall be immense resilience, and our immortal forms shall thrive in the contemplation of God. And if the words we share preserve your fragile flesh for a time, envision the transformation this joy will elicit. For we shall be like Him, as we shall see Him as He is (1 John 3:2). As we become like Him, shall we retain distractions? Brethren, we shall never find satisfaction in praising or loving God; if love were to falter, so too would praise. However, if love persists eternally, with beauty abounding, you need not fear—despite persistent failure in praise, the ability to love Him remains boundless. Let us groan regarding this life.