THEOSISAugustine of Hippo
This psalm carries the title “For the Sharpened.” As you may have observed, my beloved, I appreciate your attentiveness; the text does not mention any tools of trade, nor does it reference items such as a winepress, vat, or any other apparatus associated with woodworking. This absence prompts us to ponder the significance of this title. Had it included descriptions of such implements, worldly-minded individuals might misinterpret it as a simple song regarding material lathes. Yet, given that the title exists but the details do not, I am convinced that the Spirit of God intended for us to uncover deeper meanings beyond the familiar tools. Thus, let us recall the operations of physical mills and translate these lessons into a spiritual context relevant to the Church.
The grapes hang from their vines, and the olives remain on their branches, both of which are the fruits typically pressed for producing wine and oil. While they flourish in their natural setting, they experience no pressing—a condition akin to humanity, whom God preordained to be molded into the likeness of His only begotten Son, as noted in Romans 8:29. This Son, especially in His Passion, exemplified profound constraint. Similarly, those God has chosen seem to enjoy a state of delightful freedom in this world, much like the grapes and olives suspended on their boughs; yet, as it is stated, “My son, when you draw near to serve God, stand in righteousness and fear, and prepare your soul for trials” (Sirach 2:1). Thus, when one approaches divine service, they find themselves taken to the sharpener, where affliction, hardship, and tribulations await—not for their destruction, but so they may reach the treasures of God. The veils of earthly desires, akin to grape skins, are stripped away as a process of refinement occurs; the Apostle articulates this transformation: “Put off the old man, and put on the new” (Ephesians 4:22).
This process unfolds through the pressures we endure; thus, the congregations of God today serve as these sharpeners. But who are we within this sharpening context? We identify with the sons of Korah—the sons of the bald. This title suggests an acknowledgment of our service to God; yet, while under pressure, we may find ourselves broken. We suffer due to our attachment to temporal things, experiencing the challenges and sorrows of life. Nevertheless, through this tumult, we start to seek the rest that exists neither in this life nor upon this earth, just as the Lord is described as a refuge for the afflicted.
What defines a poor person? One who is seemingly destitute, devoid of aid or support within this world. Such is the presence of God in these lives. While some may abound in wealth, they often find themselves plagued by fear rather than joy. For what is as unstable as worldly riches? The problem does not lie in the currency itself, but in its transitory nature; those who possess it may still be in want. On the other hand, those who crave such wealth but do not attain it are numbered among the rejected rich; for God values the intention behind actions more than the outward displays of strength or resources. The truly impoverished feel the weight of worldly distractions and understand their fleeting nature. In their cries to God, they find solace—becoming like oil or wine through their fervent desires. These aspirations reflect the truth: their heart’s only aim is God Himself, the Creator, rather than earthly possessions.
Though their longing may increase over time, it also readies them to receive an abundance from God’s love. It is not a trivial gift that He grants those who yearn for Him; the grace required to accept such immense goodness necessitates substantial preparation. Thus, I urge you, dear friends, to make vows to God according to your ability and commitment; let no one dwell on past comforts or distractions, but pursue the goal ahead of you—running forth not with mere feet, but with the longing of your heart. No man should assert they have reached fulfillment in this life; even Paul, in his perfection, professed, “Brethren, I do not count myself to have attained” (Philippians 3:13).
So, if you sense the world’s passions even in moments of happiness, recognize that you remain in the grindstone. While fleeting joys surround you, envision yourself within the press and echo the call: “I have encountered trouble and despair, and I have called upon the name of the Lord.” Trouble is not a trivial woe that lies hidden; consider how many fail to see their own unhappiness, believing they are content while distanced from God. For as Paul points out, “While we are at home in the body, we are absent from the Lord” (2 Corinthians 5:6). Would you feel joy separated from your father? How can one be happy devoid of the Lord?
Many mistakenly believe themselves fulfilled. Yet, the truly discerning recognize their plight despite having material abundance; even when surrounded by luxury and comfort, their distance from the Lord is a significant loss; thus, recognizing their trials, they call upon the Lord. And who sings this psalm? It is the Body of Christ, represented in you and me; for we are one as His Body. “How lovely are Your dwellings, O Lord of hosts” (Psalm 84:1). He resided in one bush—the sharpened bush—yet longed for others where no pressures existed, sighing toward them, flowing forth through channels crafted by deep yearning.
What follows? “My soul longs and yearns for the courts of the Lord” (Psalm 84:2). This longing does not yield mere effort; it experiences failure, much like grapes under pressure. Why do they fail? To transform into wine and flow into the storehouse, resting silently. Here we have yearning; there, joy; here, prayers; there, praises; here, groans; there, exultation. Let none be embarrassed by what I have stated, nor let anyone shy away from suffering, as it is perilous for grapes that fear the press to be eaten by beasts.
You have heard the petition in the winepress; “My soul longs and yearns for the courts of the Lord” expresses joyful hope: “My heart and my flesh rejoice in the living God.” What is the source of this joy if not hope? Their joy stems from the assurance that “the sparrow has found a home, and the swallow a nest for herself where she may lay her young” (Psalm 84:3). In this metaphor, two distinct aspects arise, likening the heart to the sparrow and the flesh to the dove. The sparrow discovers a home: “My heart has found its place.” In the virtues of this life—faith, hope, and charity—they soar toward their eternal dwelling. Upon reaching it, no more will they utter pitiful cries, for the lone sparrow relocating from the rooftop of worldly existence will ascend to heaven and abide there forever.
Concerning the dove, it is given a nest—representative of its earthly form—where she may lay her young. The house symbolizes eternal life while the nest is for a season. With our hearts, we reflect upon God as the sparrow in its house, and through our actions in the flesh, we fulfill the deeds set before us: “Break your bread for the hungry, and bring the poor and homeless into your home; and if you see someone naked, clothe them” (Isaiah 58:7). These acts, mandated for us, are performed through our physical being. Consider how many appear to undertake good works outside of the Church; numerous Gentiles offer food to the hungry, provide clothes to the naked, welcome strangers, visit the infirm, and comfort the imprisoned.
How many achieve such acts? A mere dove may produce offspring but lacks a nest. Many good works are indeed incomplete without the Church, for they do not secure their young in a nurturing abode, leading only to their offense and harm. In faith lies your chick; therein lies the fulfillment of good works. Know that the “nests” to which I refer are evident. “Having said, ‘And the dove has found a nest for herself,’” what is that nest? “Your altars, O Lord of Hosts, are my King and my God.” Who is my King and my God? It is You who reign over and created me.
“Blessed are those who dwell in your house” (Psalm 84:4). If one possesses their own dwelling, they are impoverished; but if one calls God’s house home, they are wealthy. While one might fear thieves in their own abode, within God’s house, He provides a secure wall. Thus, blessed are those who reside therein. They inherit the heavenly Jerusalem without coercion, without pressure, nor division of boundaries; all partake, and each possesses abundance. Such wealth is indeed marvelous. No brother deprives another, for necessity does not bind them.
What purpose do endeavors serve when necessity compels all undertakings? Consider, beloved, the essence of human labor; remove necessity, and contemplate: without hunger, thirst, or poverty, what needs remain? For instance, who would break bread for the hungry if no one were famished? None could welcome the homeless into their homes. What sick individual do you visit where there is eternal health? Who reconciles disputes in a realm of everlasting peace? Where are the dead interred amid eternal life? Thus, no noble work, no benevolent act, will occupy our time; hence the endless young swallows will depart from their nests.
But what do we anticipate? “Blessed are they that dwell in your house.” Let us glean what tasks await them. I wonder if the need for instruction persists when they are no longer ignorant, nor reminders for those who forget. Will there be need for Scripture to be read in a place where the Word, pure with light, is contemplated? They will praise God unceasingly. Such will be our primary undertaking—an eternal Hallelujah. Do not presume, dear friends, that weariness will ensue. If your patience wanes here, it is due to life’s distractions. If the unseen and intangible bring little joy, consider the intensity of our praise amid trials; how much glorification will arise when we behold His presence, when death shall be swallowed up in victory, and this mortal existence is clothed in immortality (1 Corinthians 15:54)? No one will utter grievances over fatigue; there won't be remarks about fasting long or sustaining vigils.
For there shall be strength. Our resurrected bodies shall be invigorated in the vision of God. If the Word communicated to you sustains your frail form while on this earth, just imagine the delight of total joy! How will this transform us, for we shall be like Him as we see Him as He truly is (1 John 3:2)? When we are conformed to His likeness, can anything detract from our eternal joy? Brethren, we shall never exhaust our love and adoration for God. If it were possible for love to decay, then praise could wither too. But if love is everlasting—an inexhaustible beauty—do not fear; even if your praises may falter, that love for Him remains constant. Let us yearn for that eternal life.
How shall we attain this glory? “Blessed is the man whose strength is in You” (Psalm 84:5). He understood his limitations; he recognized that his physical frailty could not ascend to such joy. He contemplated his burdens, for “the corruptible body weighs down the soul, and the earthly dwelling oppresses the mind” (Wisdom 9:15). The spirit longs upward, yet the heaviness of the flesh pulls it down; this internal battle mirrors the pressure of the grindstone. Listen as the Apostle reflects on this struggle, expressing, “I am wretched; who will deliver me from this body of death?” (Romans 7:24). He recognizes the grace of God through Jesus Christ our Lord.
He delights in the law of God within his inner being. Still, he questions how to soar beyond his limitations. He laments seeing another law at work within his members—one that opposes the law of his mind. And just as this ongoing struggle is eased by acknowledging God’s grace, when he yearns deeply for the house of God and the accompanying praises, he finds renewed hope and asserts, “Blessed is the man whose acceptance is in You” (Psalm 84:5).