THEOSISAugustine of Hippo
No greater gift has God bestowed upon humanity than His divine Word, through which all things were fashioned. He formed their Head and joined them to Himself as members, so that the Son of God might also take on the nature of man, being one with the Father as God, and one with humanity as man. Thus, when we seek God's mercy, we must not dissociate the Son from the Father. Likewise, when the Body of the Son prays, the Head is forever linked; He remains our sole Savior, our Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of God, who prays both for us and within us. As our High Priest, He intercedes on our behalf; as our Head, He dwells among us; and we approach Him as our God. Let us, therefore, recognize our utterances in Him and His words in us. Moreover, when the Scriptures reference our Lord Jesus Christ, particularly in prophecies that signify humility beneath His divine majesty, let us readily attribute this to Him who willingly came to join us. To Him we direct our prayers, acknowledging both His divine form and His servanthood; He intercedes as the Creator, while embracing the created. By uniting His nature with ours, He has fashioned us into one body, a union of Head and members. Thus we pray through Him, in Him, and to Him; we speak to Him, and He speaks in us. The prayer of this psalm, referred to as ‘The Prayer of David,’ resonates deeply. For He was, in human form, a descendant of David, yet according to His divine essence, He is Lord even over David and the Creator of all. When we hear these words, let no one say, ‘Christ does not speak,’ nor should anyone declare, ‘I cannot speak.’ Rather, if one understands their presence in the Body of Christ, they can affirm together: Christ speaks, and I too speak. May no desire arise to act independently of Him, for He does not act apart from us.
“Bow down Thine ear, O Lord, and hear me.” He speaks as a servant; thus, let us, in our servitude, also incline our ears toward Him. He listens attentively; when we raise our burdens, He approaches the humble, distancing Himself from the proud, except to those whom He lifts from lowliness. Therefore, in moments of need, God bends His ear to us. He resides above, while we dwell below; He is in exaltation, while we experience humility, yet we are not abandoned. For Christ sacrificed Himself for us, even while we were sinners. Rarely would one die for a righteous person, though for a good person one may take that risk. But our Lord died for the ungodly. There was nothing in us warranting the death of the Son of God, but it is precisely in our lack of merit that His mercy shines brightly. Truly, how firm and unwavering is the promise that ensures the righteous receive life while the unrighteous encounter death! It is true: we recognize our own unworthiness. Yet, while God does not incline to the proud and self-sufficient, He bends towards those grappling with sorrow and need—those who confess their faults, not the self-satisfied who claim independence like the Pharisee who boasted of his virtues while the publican humbly admitted his sins.
However, my brethren, do not misconstrue my words to mean that God excludes those of wealth or status, should they have been born into such conditions. Rather, let the affluent heed the Apostle's warning: “Charge those who are rich in this world not to be haughty.” For the ungodly endure poverty before God, while He listens to the cries of the needy. These individuals recognize that their hope lies not in the riches or transitory abundance they possess. It suffices that wealth does not corrupt them; its goodness cannot be derived from mere possession. Truly beneficial is the charitable action of both the affluent and the destitute: the rich can give both in intention and in deed; the poor can contribute by their desires alone. By renouncing attempts to elevate oneself, one finds a place among the humble of God, who lends His ear to the brokenhearted… Was the poor man taken to heaven for the sake of his poverty, or did the rich man face demise due to his pride? The essence of humility is embodied in the poor man; the arrogance of wealth condemns the rich. One can briefly illustrate that it is not wealth, but pride, that brings torment to the affluent; the poor man is welcomed into Abraham’s embrace. Scripture recounts that Abraham was rich, yet his heart was not attached to his wealth; he valued obedience to God above riches, ready to sacrifice his son at God’s command. Therefore, learn to reside in spiritual poverty, whether in abundance or scarcity.
“Preserve my soul, for I am holy.” It is uncertain if anyone besides He who lived without sin can legitimately say, “I am holy.” He alone remits sins, and His call resonates: “Save my soul, for I am holy.” This statement was indeed uttered within the form of the servant He accepted. Both the flesh and the soul were His. Rejecting claims that He was solely Flesh and Word, we affirm He is simultaneously Flesh and Soul, Word and all things—one Son of God, one Christ, one Savior, equal to the Father in divine form, and servant within the Body of the Church. When I hear the proclamation, “For I am holy,” I recognize His voice; however, do I exclude my own? It is vital to understand that when He speaks, it is that of the united Body. Can I claim, “For I am holy”? If my holiness is without the need for sanctification, it is prideful and false; yet, if I proclaim holiness as one who is set apart, obeying the command, “Be holy, for I am holy,” it becomes possible for the Body of Christ to declare alongside its Head, “For I am holy.” Through the sacraments of grace, baptism, and forgiveness, I have received holiness, not earned it. Therefore, I can say to my God, “I am holy, for You have sanctified me.” You have bestowed upon me, not because of my own merit, but by Your divine grace. Perverting this understanding harms our Lord Jesus Christ. If all faithful Christians, who have been baptized into Him, claim His name yet deny their holiness, they inflict harm upon their Head—their own identity is interconnected with His. Consider your position: you were in darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Have you truly remained in darkness despite the illumination He has provided? Every Christian possesses the ability to speak, to proclaim: “Save my soul, for I am holy”; “O my God, save Thy servant who puts his trust in Thee.” This holy individual is devoid of pride, for their trust rests upon the Lord.
“Have mercy on me, O Lord, for I have cried out to You all day.” When the phrase “all day” is mentioned, it captures the essence of continuous prayer. The body of Christ, groaning amidst tribulations, exhales sighs to God, and each member of the Body contributes their unique voice to this collective cry. You have lamented in your days, and your time has passed; yet others have come after you, crying in their time. The members of Christ weep collectively: some have found comfort, while others persist in mourning. This ongoing chorus articulates the shared experience of the Body of Christ, to which He listens saying, "To You have I cried all day long." Our Head, who intercedes at the right hand of the Father, tends to each member's needs: some He heals, others He chastens, some He purifies, others He comforts. Each experience bears meaning in His grand design.
“Cheer the soul of Your servant, for to You, O Lord, I have lifted my soul.” Rejoice over it, for I directed it to You. Originally burdened by earthly afflictions, I lifted my soul to prevent it from withering in bitterness; rejoice my soul in You. True joy is found in You alone, for the world offers only bitterness. Particularly in moments of struggle, God beckons His members to raise their hearts to Him. Elevating our hearts to God ensures they endure; anything less may lead to decay. If you had grain in one area, you would not leave it to spoil on the ground. Why then allow your heart to languish, when it can rise? You ask, “How can I do that?” Let your love be the means; your will is the pathway. Through love, you ascend; through neglect, you descend. Even while grounded, if your heart cherishes God, you dwell in heavenly places. The heart's elevation surpasses that of the body; while the body’s elevation indicates a change in place, an elevated heart signifies a transformed will.
“For You, O Lord, are good and merciful.” Prayers commonly falter amidst idle thoughts, making it challenging for the heart to remain focused on God. It easily drifts, finding no anchor or safeguard, struggling to find stability to delight in Him. Among many prayers, few genuinely center on the Lord. Recall the time when David sought to center his heart when praying: “O Lord, since I have found my heart, let me pray to You.” He articulated that his heart seemed elusive, fleeing as he attempted to grasp it. As I contemplate his words, I sense he conveys the depth of grace—God’s patience amid our shortcomings while anticipating our prayers to refine us. When received, He accepts them with thankfulness, overlooking our careless pleas and welcoming the heartfelt petitions we hardly manage to voice. What man, when addressed as a friend, would accept when his companion diverts attention elsewhere? If you were speaking to a judge and suddenly turned away, who would endure it? Yet God bears with numerous souls whose prayers are diluted by distractions. Shall we then succumb to despair, perceiving everyone as condemned due to interrupted prayers? If so, what hope remains? Yet, because God’s mercy is vast, let us declare, “To You, O Lord, I have lifted up my soul.” How precisely did I elevate it? Where can I find strength to reclaim it? Out of weakness, I falter; heal me, restore me to strength. Until then, bear with me, for You, O Lord, are good and gracious, and abundant in mercy. Your greatness in mercy aligns with the multiplied depths of our transgressions. What do the Scriptures say? “They will call, but I will not listen.” How contrasting is His grace for those who genuinely seek Him amidst the turmoil of their desires? If one calls upon God solely for personal gain or benefit, he limits God to a means to fulfill his wishes. But true goodness lies not in fulfilling our self-centered wishes but in granting what we truly need. When God remains silent in response to our prayers, we should not measure His grace against our expectations.
“Consider, brethren, what gifts God imparts to sinners and learn what He has reserved for His servants.” Even to those who blaspheme Him, God grants provisions—heaven, earth, sustenance, health, children, abundance. Such gifts are given solely by God. If He blesses those deserving of judgment, surely He reserves much more for His faithful ones. Can we assume that the Almighty, who lavishes the wicked with goodness, neglects the good? No, indeed, He preserves for them not worldly treasures, but heavenly treasures, the very essence of Himself who crafted the heavens. The heavens are indeed magnificent, but far more magnificent is their Creator. The beauty of creation should direct our eyes toward Him. He descended from heaven to earth to cleanse our hearts, enabling us to encounter the One who fashioned all. We await our salvation with patient hearts, trusting in divine treatment—He knows our ailments. In sin, we invite affliction upon ourselves, yet He comes with healing hands to do more than offer comfort; He purges and refines. Aware of the discomfort often caused during healing, we must trust His word of assurance.
“Place my prayer in Your ears, O Lord.” Consider the earnestness of the supplicant's appeal! May my prayers be ever-present in Your sight. How tirelessly he endeavored to reach God's ears! Allow God to respond, stating, “If you desire your prayers to be heard, strengthen My law in your inner being, and heed the voice of My entreaty.”