Augustine of Hippo
No gift from God could surpass the creation of His Word, through which He brought all things into existence, establishing Christ as their Head and binding them to Himself as His members. This union allows the Son of God to become the Son of Man, sharing divinity with the Father and humanity with us, so that when we seek God's mercy in prayer, we do so without separating the Son from the Father. When the Body of the Son speaks, His Head is manifest; we recognize one Savior for His Body, our Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of God, who intercedes for us, embodies the prayer within us, and prays on our behalf. As our High Priest, He prays for us; as our Head, He prays within us; and we, as His servants, direct our prayers towards Him. We must acknowledge our expressions as His, and likewise recognize His words alive within us. In speaking of our Lord Jesus Christ, particularly in prophecies that suggest a kind of humility that appears beneath God's glory, we grant Him the status He deserves, for He joined us unreservedly. To Him we appeal, in the divine form, as He takes the servant form to pray. The Creator enfolds the created, transforming it while merging our humanity into one—Head and Body. Thus, we pray to Him, through Him, and in Him; we converse with Him, and He resonates our prayers. He echoes the verses of this psalm, known as “The Prayer of David.” Our Lord is the biological son of David, yet He stands as the Lord of David by His divine essence, the Creator of all.
So, when these words reach our ears, let no one declare that "Christ is silent"; nor should anyone say, "I have nothing to voice." If we recognize ourselves as part of Christ’s Body, we can affirm both statements: "Christ speaks, and I speak." Seek not to express anything devoid of Him, for neither does He articulate anything absent of you. "Incline Thy ear, O Lord, and hear me," proclaims Psalm 85:1. He speaks, as a servant ought, answering our cries with divine attention: He hearkens to the humble and draws near, while He remains distant from the proud, save those exalted by His grace.
Thus, God turns His ear towards us. He rules from above, and we dwell below; though we exist in a low estate, we are not forsaken. Christ died for us while we were yet sinners. Rarely would one consider dying for a righteous man; yet for a good man, perhaps one might dare to lay down their life, as noted in Romans 5:8. But our Lord died for the unjust, showing that no merit existed for His sacrifice on our behalf. His mercy is magnified since there was no reason for the Son of God to die other than the depth of His compassion. How sure is the promise that He gives life to the righteous while, for the wicked, He surrendered His life!
I am destitute and in dire straits. Yet the affluent do not invoke His attention; rather, His ear inclines to the humble, to those who confess and yearn for mercy, not to the self-satisfied who claim, "I thank You, for I am not like this sinner." The rich Pharisee boasted of his merits, while the humble publican acknowledged his sins, as recounted in Luke 18:11-13.
Nevertheless, my dear brethren, do not assume from my words that God disregards those possessing wealth or social standing. If they find themselves in such circumstances by birthright, let them heed the Apostle’s counsel to "instruct the rich in this present world not to be arrogant" (1 Timothy 6:17). For in God's perspective, the unrighteous are impoverished, while He listens to the plight of the needy, the lowly, and those who articulate their need for grace.
Recognize that true worth is not found in material wealth but in the spirit of generosity. What is truly commendable stems from acts of charity, whether from a rich man who has the resources and will to give, or a poor man whose heart desires to assist. When the latter casts aside all that elevates worldly status, he aligns with the poor of God, and the Lord's ear inclines towards him, for he is broken in spirit.
Was it for the virtue of his poverty that the poor man was escorted by angels into Abraham's bosom, as portrayed in Luke 16:19-24? Or was it the richness of his pride that condemned the affluent man to torment? The humble man illustrates the honor granted to humility, while the wealthy individual signifies the destiny that awaits pride.
To illustrate, I will succinctly assert that it was not riches, but rather arrogance, that tormented the wealthy man. Indeed, the poor man was welcomed into Abraham's embrace, yet Scripture reveals that Abraham himself was extraordinarily wealthy (Genesis 13:2). If every rich man is destined for despair, how could Abraham stand ready to welcome a poor man, if he had been condemned for his wealth? Abraham, despite his prosperity, remained humble, obedient to God's command, valuing his possessions as insignificant, which compelled him to sacrifice his son at God’s bidding (Genesis 22:10). Therefore, learn to embody a spirit of poverty—whether or not you possess material wealth.
“Guard my soul, for I am holy” (Psalm 84:2). Perhaps no one might confidently declare, “I am holy,” save for Him who walked the earth sinlessly—the One through whom all transgression is forgiven. We discern His voice when He pronounces, “Save my soul, for I am holy,” speaking in the servant's form that He assumed. In Him exists both flesh and soul; He is not merely Flesh and the Word, but also Spirit and Life—the One Son of God, the Devoted Christ, the One Savior, equally divine with the Father, yet servant of His Church.
So when I hear, "For I am holy," I recognize His voice but cannot deny my own. If I claim holiness as self-righteousness, needing no cleansing, I would be both proud and deceived. But if I acknowledge holiness as being set apart, as extolled in “Be ye holy, for I am holy,” (Leviticus 19:2), then Christ’s Body can declare, lifting its voice with confidence, “For I am holy.” For through Him, we receive grace, through baptism, and the remission of sins (1 Corinthians 6:11).
Proclaim to your God: “I am holy, for You have made me holy; because I have received, not due to my actions, but because You have given to me.” To state otherwise is to undermine our Lord Jesus Christ Himself. If all faithful Christians, having been baptized into Him, have clothed themselves in Christ (as the Apostle teaches: “All who have been baptized into Christ have put on Christ” - Galatians 3:27), then if they claim they are not holy, they do harm to their Head, of whom they are parts, and yet claim unholiness.
Consider your standing before Him, extending His dignity upon you. Once, you were in darkness; now you are light in the Lord (Ephesians 5:8). You were once darkness; does the light not change you? Did the Illuminator come so you might remain in darkness, or to transition you into light? Therefore, every Christian can boldly affirm, despite trials and tribulations, “Save my soul, for I am holy,” proclaiming: “O God, save Your servant who trusts in You.”
“Have mercy upon me, O Lord, for I have cried out to You all day” (Psalm 84:3). This plea is not a solitary cry; it reflects continual anguish, resonating in the struggles of the Body of Christ throughout history until the end of time, when sorrows will cease and man will groan before God. Each of us, in our measure, participates in this collective cry—some weeping today, others having recently rested in Him, still others yet to voice their sorrow.
Our Head, positioned at the Father’s right hand, intercedes for us: some He mends, others He refines, some He encourages, others He draws back, corrects, and restores. "Cheer the soul of Your servant, for to You, O Lord, I have lifted up my soul" (Psalm 85:4). Rejoice in it, for I raise it to You; it was once on the earth, encumbered by bitterness. To prevent it from wilting in sorrow and losing the sweetness of Your grace, I lift it up to You for joy—joy is found solely in You, while the world is filled with bitterness.
Certainly, it is paramount that we elevate our hearts towards You above all earthly trappings. Let them hear and act upon this: let them raise their hearts to You, for if the heart is lifted up, it shall not decay. If one possessed grain in low storage, they would elevate it; would you not do the same with your heart? How? By your affections, which are steps towards ascension; your will is the means by which you rise. By loving God, you ascend; through neglect, you descend. Standing on earth, you can still be in heaven, for an exalted heart transforms its will rather than its location.
“For You, O Lord, are good and gracious” (Psalm 85:5). Truly, even our prayers can be hindered by distracting thoughts; it is challenging to maintain focused intentions before God. The heart often escapes its aim, finding no earthly containment or restraint, only distraction. Such experiences are common. Each might acknowledge their struggle, recalling how David prayed fervently, exclaiming, “O Lord, since I have found my heart to pray to You” (2 Samuel 7:27). It is as if his heart habitually fled, and he pursued it like a fugitive.
As I ponder David’s words, I understand that he speaks of grace. He identifies God as merciful, as He bears our shortcomings while longing for our prayers to achieve perfection. When we finally present our earnest pleas, He gratefully receives them, often overlooking the many careless prayers we offer, accepting the one we scarcely find.
What man, upon hearing a friend call for his attention, could endure it if that friend immediately turned away and began conversing with another? Similarly, if you turn to a judge who listens as you speak, then abruptly direct your attention elsewhere, would he tolerate this? Yet God bears with many who pray but whose minds wander in distraction.
Should we then despair of humanity and declare all are condemned whose prayers are marred by wandering thoughts? If this were the case, what hope remains for us? Nevertheless, there exists hope before God, for His mercy is vast. Let us thus proclaim: “To You, O Lord, I have lifted up my soul.” But how is this accomplished? How could You fortify me to catch my heart when it tries to evade me? “In my weakness I falter; heal me, and I will rise: strengthen me, and I shall be whole. Until then, bear with me, for You, O Lord, are good and merciful, filled not just with mercy but great mercy. As our transgressions multiply, so too does Your compassion.
What does Scripture convey in many places? “They will call, but I will not answer” (Proverbs 1:28). Yet You are compassionate towards all who invoke Your name. Some call upon You but do not actually seek the God of whom it’s said, “They did not inquire of God.” They invoke many things they desire and count as theirs.
All who love deeply call upon what they desire to draw nearer. If you cry out to God only for monetary gain, accession to wealth, or worldly position, you are treating Him as a means to fulfill your own desires rather than recognizing Him as the One who meets your greatest needs. Is God good simply because He grants you what you want? If your desires lead you to evil, will He not be more benevolent by withholding those harmful wishes? Thus, should He deny you, He would become inconsequential; and you would lament your unanswered prayers.
Consider this: what were you asking? Perhaps you longed for the demise of your adversary. But what if, at that moment, your enemy offered a prayer for your downfall? The One who created you also created him. You are both human in God’s eyes; the real Judge hears both and selectively answers neither. Rejoice that your prayer may not have been answered, for it might have been to your advantage.
What if you declare, “I did not seek this; I sought my child’s life. What ill desire is this?” While you might think your heart is pure in this wish, consider that the child may have been removed to prevent worsening evil. Therefore, seek only to call upon God for that which aligns with Him. If you truly seek God, you shall surely be heard. You partake in the assurance that He extends “great mercy to all who call upon You.”