THEOSISAugustine of Hippo
The title of this eighty-seventh Psalm introduces a topic for exploration: the words used here, directed towards Melech, are unique in their context. We have previously discussed the interpretations of the titles Psalmus Cantici and Canticum Psalmi; the mention of the sons of Corea is frequently reiterated and often elaborated upon. However, the inclusion of the term Melech in this title is quite distinctive. In Latin, 'Melech' can be interpreted as 'choir,' which aligns with the Hebrew interpretation of the word. This passage foretells the suffering of the Lord. The apostle Peter asserts that Christ suffered for us, providing us with an example that we should follow in His footsteps (1 Peter 2:21). This forms part of the response. Likewise, the apostle John states that just as Christ gave His life for us, we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers (1 John 3:16), reinforcing this idea. The term ‘choir’ implies unity in love; thus, if one mimics the Lord’s Passion but lacks love, their actions, like giving one’s body to be burned, bear no fruit (1 Corinthians 13:3). Furthermore, akin to the roles of Precentor and Succentor in music, this passion song illustrates how the chorus of martyrs follows Christ to the ultimate victory in heaven. The sons of Corea here represent those who emulate Christ’s adversities, with the reference to Calvary, signifying the Hebrew term Cor (Matthew 27:33). The mention of Aman signifies brotherhood, as it suggests an understanding of the mystery of the Cross, and highlights those who embrace it without shame, humbly acknowledging their merits as a reflection of divine grace. Thus, one could say of them, "Behold a true Israelite, in whom there is no guile" (John 1:47), as Israel itself is portrayed as pure (Genesis 25:27).
O Lord God of my salvation, I have cried out to You day and night (Psalm 86:1). Let us now hear Christ's prophetic voice singing before us, to which His own choir must respond in imitation or in gratefulness. O let my prayer come before You; incline Your ear to my cry (Psalm 87:2). For our Lord prayed not in the form of divinity, but as a servant, and in this, He also endured suffering. He prayed both during moments of prosperity, denoted by the day, and in times of distress, symbolized by night. The act of prayer entering God’s presence signifies its acceptance, while His attentive ear represents a compassionate response; for God does not possess physical attributes like we do. This repetition serves this theme.
My soul is filled with evil, and my life draws near to the grave (Psalm 86:3). Could we speak of Christ's soul as being filled with evil when passion could touch only His body? Hence, the soul experiences anguish apart from the body, while the body cannot exist without the soul. Why then might we not assert that Christ’s soul bore the burdens of humanity's afflictions, although not human sins? Another prophet records that He bore our griefs (Isaiah 53:4), and the Evangelist notes that He took Peter and the two sons of Zebedee with Him, beginning to feel deep sorrow (Matthew 26:37-38). The psalmist, anticipating this sorrow, depicts Him as saying, "My soul is full of wickedness, and my life draws near to the grave." The sentiment of sorrow aligns with the proclamation that He felt overwhelmed with grief. Our Lord embraced human frailty, taking on flesh not out of necessity but from the free choice of His mercy, embodying in Himself His Church, of which He is the Head, to reassure His disciples that, even amidst temptations, suffering does not equate to being estranged from divine favor. The body learns from its Head that these pains are expressions of mortal frailty rather than sin. The apostle Paul, a significant member of this body, confessed to feeling profound sorrow for his brethren, the Israelites. If we assert that Christ also grieved for them anticipating His Passion, we think rightly. Finally, when He uttered on the Cross, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do" (Luke 23:34), His lament is echoed in this Psalm: "I am counted among those who go down to the grave" (Psalm 87:4), for those who did not comprehend the gravity of their actions perceived Him as merely human and subject to vulnerability. The term 'grave' suggests depths of sorrow or damnation: I am a man without aid.
Free among the dead (Psalm 86:5). Here, the identity of our Lord is profoundly displayed; who else but He, though appearing in the likeness of sinful flesh, is distinctly sinless among sinners (Romans 8:3)? Thus, He remains free among the dead, possessing the authority to both lay down His life and take it again, for no man could seize it from Him; He offered it willingly. He could also restore His flesh after they had destroyed the temple, in accordance with His will. Though abandoned by all during His Passion, He was not forsaken, as He testifies that His Father had remained with Him (John 8:29). Meanwhile, those who enacted His crucifixion, ignorant of their actions, were considered powerless and abandoned, as if lifeless in their graves. Yet, He notes, "Whom you do not yet remember”: here we observe a critical distinction between Christ and all others who lie dead. Though identified as wounded and lifeless in the tomb (Matthew 27:50, 60), those who remained unaware of His true identity saw Him as just another fallen victim—unaware that their time for resurrection had not yet arrived. Scripture describes the deceased as sleeping to imply their destiny of revival. But He, wounded and laid to rest, arose on the third day, likened to a solitary sparrow perched on the roof, representative of His resurrection and ascension to the right hand of the Father in heaven; from this point onward, death shall hold no power over Him (Romans 6:9). Thus, He is notably distinct from those whom God had yet to summon forth in resurrection; the events that were to unfold in the Head awaited the Body at the consummation of time. God's remembrance signifies His action, while forgetfulness denotes His inaction, for God cannot forget nor remember in the human sense, being immutable. In contrast, those who misidentify Me see me as a man without aid, while I am free amongst the dead. These detractors view me as wounded, yet they remain distanced from Your care; in denying my aid, they too find themselves cut off from Your hand. They who presumed me to be without help became ensnared in their own traps, as stated, "They have dug a pit before me and found themselves trapped within it."
They have cast me into the deepest pit (Psalm 86:6); indeed, this refers to the utmost depth of despair. In Greek, it is rendered as 'the lowest pit.' But what constitutes this lowest pit but the supreme anguish, deeper than any other? This reflects another psalm, which declares, "You have drawn me up from the pit of misery," amidst shadows and mortal peril. Those who did not comprehend placed Him there, tragically honoring Him in their ignorance. The term 'shadow of death' may refer to corporeal death or the spiritual darkness in which those walk who lack the Light, as described in Isaiah 9:2. Faith led many from the gloom of sin into the illumination of life. Those who thought of our Lord thus, in ignorance, counted Him among those He sought to rescue, not realizing the depth of their misjudgment.
Your indignation rests upon me (Psalm 87:7). This verse can be rendered as Your wrath or fury, with the Greek term θυμὸς undergoing various interpretations. When Greek texts employ ὀργὴ, translations commonly express this as Latin ira, yet others find difficulty in translating θυμὸς in the same way. I shall not delve into the arguments surrounding this: if I were to pose another suitable term, I would find 'indignation' more palatable than 'rage,' as this latter term is rarely applied to humans in ordinary sense. What does ‘Your wrath rests upon me’ signify except the misguided faith of those who do not recognize the Lord of Glory (1 Corinthians 2:8), believing erroneously that God’s wrath had fully manifested upon Him whom they unjustly condemned to death—not merely death, but the most ignoble death of crucifixion? Hence the apostle elucidates, "Christ redeemed us from the curse of the Law by becoming a curse for us, for it is written, ‘Cursed is everyone who is hanged on a tree’" (Galatians 3:13). In affirming His obedience, which humbly accepted even the extremities of death, He stated He humbled Himself and became obedient to death—even death on a cross (Philippians 2:8). Likewise in this Psalm, He mentions, "All your waves have surged upon me," or as some translate, "Your billows have swept over me." Another psalm declares, "All your waves and tempests have gone over me;" where the Greek captures a notion of passing over, distinguishing it from the Hebrew expressions depicting direct infliction upon Him.
You have removed my acquaintances from me (Psalm 86:8). If we interpret 'acquaintances' as those known by Him, it reflects upon humanity as a whole; who indeed is unknown to Him? He speaks of acquaintances who recognized Him, at least to the extent of perceiving Him as innocent, albeit viewing Him merely as man rather than God. Even so, He might term the righteous as familiar and the wicked as unknown, whom He must eventually declare, "I never knew you" (Matthew 7:23). Who among men has not harbored disdain for Him? Perhaps in comprehending deeper meanings, "I did not step forth out of my hidden counsel" reflects His essence; it implies His non-disclosure of His identity. Thus, it continues, "My eyes grow weak with need" (Psalm 87:9). For whose eyes could this refer? Certainly, He did not suffer physical weakness from hunger during His Passion, as He was betrayed post-supper, nor did His spiritual insight diminish. It seems more plausible that through his eyes, He indicates His body members, which He cherished above all. The apostle notes this body, saying, “If the whole body were an eye, where would the hearing be?” (1 Corinthians 12:17-21). His intent was made clearer by affirming, "You are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a member of it" (1 Corinthians 12:27). Accordingly, His followers, the holy apostles, known not through human understanding but through divine revelation, missed seeing Him as they wished to; in their bewilderment at His suffering, they struggled with what appeared to be weakness, finding themselves wanting as if their sustenance had vanished.
He continues, "And I called upon You." Clearly, this was most evident during His time on the Cross. But what follows? "All day I stretched out my hands to You." We must determine how this is understood. If we perceive this as a reference to the Tree of the Cross, we must reconcile this with the notion of 'all day.' Could it mean He remained on the Cross throughout the day, given the inclusion of night in this phrase? If we consider 'day' strictly as daylight, one may argue that He hung from the cross during part of that day. But if we interpret 'day' in a more expansive sense, as the time He spent on earth carrying out His works, the dilemma persists, since He did not stretch out His hands on the Cross continuously. If 'day' is intended to indicate the entire timeline of His ministry, then it becomes increasingly complex, especially since in Latin it is presented in a feminine gender often denoting time.