THEOSISAugustine of Hippo
This psalm is titled "For the sharpened." As you have likely perceived, dear friends (I have observed your attentiveness), there is no mention in its contents of any press, wine-basket, vat, tools, or the crafting of lathes; nothing of that sort is evident in the reading. Thus, the significance of this title referring to lathes remains unclear. Had it included references to the material items I just named, those focused merely on the earthly might have interpreted it as a literal song about lathes; however, since it carries this title but fails to elaborate on the well-known lathes, I have no doubt that the Holy Spirit intended to convey a different understanding. Let us then reflect on what occurs within these physical mills and how this reality connects spiritually within the Church. The grapes hang on their vines and the olives cling to their branches, for it is they that typically fill the presses; while they remain in their natural state, free from the pressing, no wine or oil flows. In similar fashion, individuals predestined by God to conform to the image of His only Son, as noted in Romans 8:29, enjoy a transient liberty in this life akin to grapes or olives, prior to engaging in God's service. As scripture advises, "My son, when thou art approaching the service of God, O God, stand in judgment and fear, and prepare thy soul for temptation" (Sirach 2:1). Hence, everyone who approaches God's service finds that they have come to the sharpener; they will experience affliction, they will be broken, they will be oppressed—not for their destruction in this life, but to delve into the treasures of God. The veils of earthly desires are removed from them like grape skins. This mirrors the Apostle's admonition to "put off the old man and put on the new man." Such transformation occurs only through pressure, which is why the Churches of God are often referred to as sharpeners.
But who are those found among the sharpeners? They are the sons of Korah. This follows with "tochilam," the sons of Korah; the sons of the bald. This explanation is as far as they could convey it according to their service to God. While under pressure, we are broken to the end that our love for worldly, temporary, unstable, and perishable things—having subjected us to various torments and trials in this life—might redirect us toward seeking a rest that does not exist in this world or on this earth. In that way, the Lord becomes, as written, the refuge of the impoverished. Who is the poor man? One without support or sustenance, devoid of anything upon which to rest in this life. Such a poor soul encounters God's presence. Even when people abound in earthly riches, they often find themselves consumed by fear rather than joy. What is more unreliable than something that constantly shifts? Although money itself is not wrongful, it cannot be relied upon. Thus, while they may possess wealth, without God, they remain poor. Conversely, those with no wealth but desire it also stand among the rich, who will ultimately be turned away; for God assesses one's will rather than strength. The poor find themselves stripped of worldly possessions, recognizing their fleeting nature; they cry out to God, lamenting their inability to find comfort here, overwhelmed by trials, just as if they were within a lathe, ultimately becoming oil or wine. What are these but noble desires? For God remains their sole object of longing; they cherish Him, the Creator of heaven and earth, although they do not yet dwell with Him. Their yearning, though delayed, serves to strengthen it; the more they desire, the more they are assured of its fulfillment. For God will not withhold from those who earnestly seek Him, and one must engage actively to be ready to receive such a great gift—not merely what He created, but God Himself, the Creator of all things. Prepare yourself to receive God, the eternal treasure you will long for.
Therefore, dear ones, let each make pledges as they are able and render to the Lord what they can. Let none look back, let none find solace in past interests, let none turn away from what lies ahead. Instead, let them pursue until they arrive; our journey is guided not by our feet but by our desires. No one in this life should claim to have arrived, for who among us is flawless as Paul? (Philippians 3:13), yet he declared, "Brethren, I count not myself to have apprehended."
If you sense the allurements of this world, recognize even in moments of happiness that you are within the grindstone. Hence, when the world offers you happiness, envision yourself enduring in that grindstone, and say: "I have found trouble and heaviness, and I have called upon the name of the Lord." He did not specify that he found minor troubles, as some might concealed from those who mistakenly believe they are happy while estranged from God. He states, "For while we are in the body, we are far from the Lord" (2 Corinthians 5:6). If you were to be away from your father, you would feel miserable; how can one be without the Lord and still find joy? Some may believe themselves to be content, but those who, while encountering abundance and pleasure, clearly see that their state is poor when distant from the Lord, possess the discerning insight to recognize their distress and call upon the Lord. Such is the one who sings this psalm. Who does this refer to? The body of Christ. It pertains to you if you choose, and to all of us, for the Body of Christ is one. "How beautiful are Thy dwelling places, O Lord of hosts" (Psalm 82:1); He was within that singular dwelling, the sharpened bush, yet desired other dwellings devoid of pressure, longing for them, flowing into them through channels of deep desire.
And what happens next? "My soul yearns and longs for the courts of the Lord" (Psalm 83:2). It is not enough for it to merely strive; why does it encounter challenges? It longs for the courts of the Lord. Grapes, when pressed, yield to this strain: but for what goal? To transform into wine and flow into the vat, becoming stored in silence. Here they are desired, there they are fulfilled; here it is lamentation, there it is joy; here supplication, there affection; here groans, there exultation. Let no one here feel ashamed of what I have shared, nor hesitate to endure suffering. The challenge arises that if grapes shy away from the sharpening, they might become sustenance for birds or wild creatures.
You have discerned the groaning within the winepress, for "my soul languishes and longs for the courts of the Lord; hear how it holds fast, rejoicing in hope: my heart and my flesh have rejoiced in the living God." Here they rejoiced on this occasion. From whence does their joy stem if not from hope? What was their source of joy? In the living God. In what did you rejoice? In "my heart and my flesh." Why did they find joy? Because, as he noted, "the sparrow has found a home, and the turtledove a nest for her young" (Psalm 83:3). What do these symbolize? He mentions two entities and adds two bird figures that align with them: his heart and his flesh parallel the sparrow and the turtledove. The sparrow discovers a home, just as my heart finds a home. It endeavors to soar through the virtues of this life: faith, hope, and charity—these are what allow it to fly towards its eternal abode. Upon reaching that destination, the sorrow of the sparrow will cease, for it is the same sorrowful sparrow referenced elsewhere, "As a sparrow alone on the rooftop." From the rooftop, it flies toward its home. Let it now stand upon the roof, having trampled down its earthly dwelling—it shall embrace a heavenly home, an everlasting residence, and that sparrow shall no longer embody distress. And to the dove, He provided a calf, representing the flesh: the dove has discovered a nest where she may raise her young. The sparrow possesses a home, and the dove has a nest where she may nurture her chicks. The house is selected for eternity; the nest is ephemeral. With the heart, we contemplate God, as if a sparrow taking flight into its house; with the flesh, we perform good deeds. You can see how many virtuous acts are accomplished through the flesh of the saints; through this, we fulfill the commands meant for this life. "Break your bread for the hungry and bring in the poor and homeless into your home," (Isaiah 58:7) and engage in similar acts of service that we only achieve via the flesh.
We often observe that many appear to perform good deeds outside the Church; many of the Gentiles feed the hungry, clothe the naked, welcome the stranger, visit the sick, and comfort the imprisoned. Many engage in these acts. Yet the dove may give rise to chicks, but lacks a nest. Many works can be done by those outside the Church; they do not provide a protective place for their chicks. They will face trampling and destruction; they will neither be secured nor safeguarded. Within this faith resides your offspring; in that nest lies your undertaking. What are these nests? What is this nest? It is evident: "Your altars, O Lord of Hosts, are my King and my God." Who is my King and my God? The One who governs me, who created me.