St. Augustine: Exposition on the Book of Psalms, Psalm XLII
In St. Augustine’s Exposition on Psalm 42, he interprets the soul’s longing for God as a profound thirst, like a deer seeking water. Augustine teaches that true peace and fulfillment are found only in God, encouraging steadfast faith through life’s trials.
1. We have undertaken the exposition of a Psalm corresponding to your own “longings,” on which we propose to speak to you. For the Psalm itself begins with a certain pious “longing;” and he who sings so, says, “Like as the hart desireth the water-brooks, so longeth my soul after Thee, O God” (ver. 1). Who is it then that saith this? It is ourselves, if we be but willing! And why ask, who it is other than thyself, when it is in thy power to be the thing which thou art asking about? It is not however one individual, but it is “One Body;” but “Christ’s Body is the Church.” Such “longing” indeed is not found in all who enter the Church: let all however who have “tasted” the sweetness “of the Lord,” and who own in Christ that for which they have a relish, think that they are not the only ones; but that there are such seeds scattered throughout “the field” of the Lord, this whole earth: and that there is a certain Christian unity, whose voice thus speaks, “Like as the hart desireth the water-brooks, so longeth my soul after Thee, O God.” And indeed it is not ill understood as the cry of those, who being as yet Catechumens, are hastening to the grace of the holy Font. On which account too this Psalm is ordinarily chanted on those occasions, that they may long for the Fountain of remission of sins, even “as the hart for the water-brooks.” Let this be allowed; and this meaning retain its place in the Church; a place both truthful and sanctioned by usage. Nevertheless, it appears to me, my brethren, that such “a longing” is not fully satisfied even in the faithful in Baptism: but that haply, if they know where they are sojourning, and whither they have to remove from hence, their “longing” is kindled in even greater intensity.
2. The title then of it is, “On the end: a Psalm for understanding for the sons of Korah.” We have met with the sons of Korah in other titles of Psalms: and remember to have discussed and stated already the meaning of this name. Yet we must even now take notice of this title in such a way, that what we have said already should be no prejudice against our saying it again: for all were not present in every place where we said it. Now Korah may have been, as indeed he was, a certain definite person; and have had sons, who might be called “the sons of Korah;” let us however search for the secret of which this is the sacrament, that this name may bring to light the mystery with which it is pregnant. For there is some great mystery in the matter that the name “sons of Korah” is given to Christians. Why “sons of Korah”? They are “sons of the bridegroom, sons of Christ.” Why then does “Korah” stand for Christ? Because “Korah” is equivalent to “Calvaria.” . . . Therefore, the “sons of the bridegroom,” the sons of His Passion, the sons redeemed by His Blood, the sons of His Cross, who bear on their forehead that which His enemies erected on Calvary, are called “the sons of Korah;” to them is this Psalm sung as a Psalm for “understanding.” Let then our understanding be roused: and if the Psalm be sung to us, let us follow it with our “understanding.” . . . Run to the brooks; long after the water-brooks. “With God is the fountain of Life;” a “fountain” that shall never be dried up: in His “Light” is a Light that shall never be darkened. Long thou for this light: for a certain fountain, a certain light, such as thy bodily eyes know not; a light to see which the inward eye must be prepared; a fountain, to drink of which the inward thirst is to be kindled. Run to the fountain; long for the fountain; but do it not anyhow, be not satisfied with running like any ordinary animal; run thou “like the hart.” What is meant by “like the hart”? Let there be no sloth in thy running; run with all thy might: long for the fountain with all thy might. For we find in “the hart” an emblem of swiftness.
3. But perhaps Scripture meant us to consider in the stag not this point only, but another also. Hear what else there is in the hart. It destroys serpents, and after the killing of serpents, it is inflamed with thirst yet more violent; having destroyed serpents, it runs to “the water-brooks,” with thirst more keen than before. The serpents are thy vices, destroy the serpents of iniquity; then wilt thou long yet more for “the Fountain of Truth.” Perhaps avarice whispers in thine ear some dark counsel, hisses against the word of God, hisses against the commandment of God. And since it is said to thee, “Disregard this or that thing,” if thou prefer working iniquity to despising some temporal good, thou choosest to be bitten by a serpent, rather than destroy it. Whilst, therefore, thou art yet indulgent to thy vice, thy covetousness or thy appetite, when am I to find in thee “a longing” such as this, that might make thee run to the water-brooks? . . .
4. There is another point to be observed in the hart. It is reported of stags . . . that when they either wander in the herds, or when they are swimming to reach some other parts of the earth, that they support the burdens of their heads on each other, in such a manner as that one takes the lead, and others follow, resting their heads upon him, as again others who follow do upon them, and others in succession to the very end of the herd; but the one who took the lead in bearing the burden of their heads, when tired, returns to the rear, and rests himself after his fatigue by supporting his head just as did the others; by thus supporting what is burdensome, each in turn, they both accomplish their journey, and do not abandon each other. Are they not a kind of “harts” that the Apostle addresses, saying, “Bear ye one another’s burdens, and so fulfil the Law of Christ”? . . .
5. “My soul is athirst for the living God” (ver. 2). What I am saying, that “as the hart panteth after the water-brooks, so longs my soul after Thee, O God,” means this, “My soul is athirst for the living God.” For what is it athirst? “When shall I come and appear before God?” This it is for which I am athirst, to “come and to appear before Him.” I am athirst in my pilgrimage, in my running; I shall be filled on my arrival. But “When shall I come?” And this, which is soon in the sight of God, is late to our “longing.” “When shall I come and appear before God?” This too proceeds from that “longing,” of which in another place comes that cry, “One thing have I desired of the Lord; that will I seek after; that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life.” Wherefore so? “That I may behold” (he saith) “the beauty of the Lord.” “When shall I come and appear before the Lord?” . . .
6. “My tears have been my meat day and night, while they daily say unto me, Where is thy God?” (ver. 3). My tears (he saith) have been not bitterness, but “my bread.” Those very tears were sweet unto me: being athirst for that fountain, inasmuch as I was not as yet able to drink of it, I have eagerly made my tears my meat. For he said not, “My tears became my drink,” lest he should seem to have longed for them, as for “the water-brooks:” but, still retaining that thirst wherewith I burn, and by which I am hurried away towards the water-brooks, “My tears became my meat,” whilst I am not yet there. And assuredly he does but the more thirst for the water-brooks from making his tears his meat. . . .”And they daily say unto me, Where is thy God?” For if a Pagan should say this to me, I cannot retort it upon him, saying, “Where is thine?” inasmuch as he points with his finger to some stone, and says, “Lo, there is my God!” When I have laughed at the stone, and he who pointed to it has been put to the blush, he raises his eyes from the stone, looks up to heaven, and perhaps says, pointing his finger to the Sun, “Behold there my God! Where, I pray, is your God?” He has found something to point out to the eyes of the flesh; whereas I, on my part, not that I have not a God to show to him, cannot show him what he has no eyes to see. For he indeed could point out to my bodily eyes his God, the Sun; but what eyes hath he to which I might point out the Creator of the Sun? . . .
7. “I thought on these things, and poured out my soul above myself” (ver. 4). When would my soul attain to that object of its search, which is “above my soul,” if my soul were not to “pour itself out above itself”? For were it to rest in itself, it would not see anything else beyond itself; and in seeing itself, would not, for all that, see God. Let then my insulting enemies now say, “Where is thy God?” aye, let them say it! I, so long as I do not “see,” so long as my happiness is postponed, make my tears my “bread day and night.” Let them still say, “Where is thy God?” I seek my God in every corporeal nature, terrestrial or celestial, and find Him not: I seek His Substance in my own soul, and I find it not, yet still I have thought on these things, and wishing to “see the invisible things of my God, being understood by the things made,” I have poured forth my soul above myself, and there remains no longer any being for me to attain to, save my God. For it is “there” is the “house of my God.” His dwelling-place is above my soul; from thence He beholds me; from thence He created me; from thence He directs me and provides for me; from thence he appeals to me, and calls me, and directs me; leads me in the way, and to the end of my way. . . .
8. For when I was “pouring out my soul above myself,” in order to reach my God, why did I do so? “For I will go into the place of Thy Tabernacle.” For I should be in error were I to seek for my God without “the place of His tabernacle.” “For I will go into the place of Thy wonderful tabernacle, even unto the house of God.”
“I will go,” he says, “into the place of the wonderful tabernacle, even unto the house of God!” For there are already many things that I admire in “the tabernacle.” See how great wonders I admire in the tabernacle! For God’s tabernacle on earth is the faithful; I admire in them the obedience of even their bodily members: that in them “Sin does not reign so that they should obey its lusts; neither do they yield their members instruments of unrighteousness unto sin; but unto the living God in good works.” I admire the sight of the bodily members warring in the service of the soul that serves God. . . . And wonderful though the tabernacle be, yet when I come to “the house of God,” I am even struck dumb with astonishment. Of that “house” he speaks in another Psalm, after he had put a certain abstruse and difficult question to himself (viz., why is it that it generally goes well with the wicked on earth, and ill with the good?), saying, “I thought to know this; it is too painful for me, until I go into the sanctuary of God, and understand of the last things.” For it is there, in the sanctuary of God, in the house of God, is the fountain of “understanding.” There he “understood of the last things;” and solved the question concerning the prosperity of the unrighteous, and the sufferings of the righteous. How does he solve it? Why, that the wicked, when reprieved here, are reserved for punishments without end; and the good when they suffer here, are being tried in order that they may in the end obtain the inheritance. And it was in the sanctuary of God that he understood this, and “understood of the last things.” . . . For he tells us of his progress, and of his guidance thither; as if we had been saying, “You are admiring the tabernacle here on earth; how came you to the sanctuary of the house of God?” he says, “In the voice of joy and praise; the sound of keeping holiday.” Here, when men keep festival simply for their own indulgence, it is their custom to place musical instruments, or to station a chorus of singers, before their houses, or any kind of music that serves and allures to wantonness. And when these are heard, what do we passers by say? “What is going on here?” And we are told in answer, that it is some festival. “It is a birthday that is being celebrated” (say they), “there is a marriage here;” that those songs may not appear out of place, but the luxurious indulgence may be excused by the festive occasion. In the “house of God” there is a never-ending festival: for there it is not an occasion celebrated once, and then to pass away. The angelic choir makes an eternal “holiday:” the presence of God’s face, joy that never fails. This is a “holiday” of such a kind, as neither to be opened by any dawn, nor terminated by any evening. From that everlasting perpetual festivity, a certain sweet and melodious strain strikes on the ears of the heart, provided only the world do not drown the sounds. As he walks in this tabernacle, and contemplates God’s wonderful works for the redemption of the faithful, the sound of that festivity charms his ears, and bears the “hart” away to “the water-brooks.”
9. But seeing, brethren, so long as “we are at home in this body, we are absent from the Lord;” and “the corruptible body presseth down the soul, and the earthly tabernacle weigheth down the mind that museth on many things;” even though we have some way or other dispersed the clouds, by walking as “longing” leads us on, and for a brief while have come within reach of that sound, so that by an effort we may catch something from that “house of God,” yet through the burden, so to speak, of our infirmity, we sink back to our usual level, and relapse to our ordinary state. And just as there we found cause for rejoicing, so here there will not be wanting an occasion for sorrow. For that hart that made “tears” its “bread day and night,” borne along by “longing to the water-brooks” (that is, to the spiritual delights of God), “pouring forth his soul above himself,” that he may attain to what is “above” his own soul, walking towards “the place of the wonderful tabernacle, even unto the house of God,” and led on by the sweetness of that inward spiritual sound to feel contempt for all outward things, and be borne on to things spiritual, is but a mortal man still; is still groaning here, still bearing about the frailty of flesh, still in peril in the midst of the “offences” of this world. He therefore glances back to himself, as if he were coming from that world; and says to himself, now placed in the midst of these sorrows, comparing these with the things, to see which he had entered in there, and after seeing which he had come forth from thence;
“Why art thou cast down, O my soul, and why dost thou disquiet me?” (ver. 5). Lo, we have just now been gladdened by certain inward delights: with the mind’s eye we have been able to behold, though but with a momentary glance, something not susceptible of change: why dost thou still “disquiet me, why art thou” still “cast down”? For thou dost not doubt of thy God. For now thou art not without somewhat to say to thyself, in answer to those who say, “Where is thy God?” I have now had the perception of something that is unchangeable; why dost thou disquiet me still?
“Hope in God.” Just as if his soul was silently replying to him, “Why do I disquiet thee, but because I am not yet there, where that delight is, to which I was, as it were, rapt for a moment? Am I already drinking’ from this fountain’ with nothing to fear?” . . . Still “Hope in God,” is his answer to the soul that disquiets him, and would fain account for her disquiet from the evils with which this world abounds. In the mean while dwell in hope: for “hope that is seen is not hope; but if we hope for that we see not, then do we with patience wait for it.”
10. “Hope in God.” Why “hope”? “For I will confess unto Him.” What wilt thou “confess”? “My God is the saving health of my countenance.” My “health” (my salvation) cannot be from myself; this it is that I will say, that I will “confess.” It is my God that is “the saving health of my countenance.” For to account for his fears, in the midst of those things, which he now knows, having come after a sort to the “understanding” of them, he has been looking behind him again in anxiety, lest the enemy be stealing upon him: he cannot yet say, “I am made whole every whit.” For having but “the first-fruits of the Spirit, we groan within ourselves; waiting for the adoption, to wit, the redemption of the body.” When that “health” (that salvation) is perfected in us, then shall we be living in the house of God for ever, and praising for ever Him to whom it was said, “Blessed are they that dwell in Thy house, they will be praising Thee world without end.” This is not so yet, because the salvation which is promised, is not as yet in being; but it is “in hope” that I confess unto God, and say, “My God is the saving health of my countenance.” For it is “in hope” that “we are saved; but hope that is seen, is not hope.” . . .
11. “My soul is disquieted on account of myself” (ver. 6). Is it disquieted on account of God? It is on my own account it is disquieted. By the Unchangeable it was revived; it is by the changeable it is disquieted. I know that the righteousness of God remaineth; whether my own will remain stedfast, I know not. For I am alarmed by the Apostle’s saying, “Let him that thinketh he standeth, take heed lest he fall.” Therefore since “there is no soundness in me for myself,” there is no hope either for me of myself. “My soul is disquieted on account of myself.” . . .”Therefore I remember Thee, O Lord, from the land of Jordan, and from the little hill of Hermon.” From whence did I remember thee? From the “little hill,” and from the “land of Jordan.” Perhaps from Baptism, where the remission of sins is given. For no one runs to the remission of sins, except he who is dissatisfied with himself; no one runs to the remission of sins, but he who confesses himself a sinner; no one confesses himself a sinner, except by humbling himself before God. Therefore it is from “the land of Jordan I have remembered thee, and from the hill;” observe, not “of the great hill,” that thou mayest make of the “little hill” a great one: for “whoso exalteth himself shall be abased, and whoso humbleth himself shall be exalted.” If you would also ask the meanings of the names, Jordan means “their descent.” Descend then, that thou mayest be “lifted up:” be not lifted up, lest thou be cast down. “And the little hill of Hermon.” Hermon means “anathematizing.” Anathematize thyself, by being displeased with thyself; for if thou art pleased with thyself, God will be displeased with thee. Because then God gives us all good things, because He Himself is good, not because we are worthy of it; because He is merciful, not because we have in anything deserved it; it is from “the land of Jordan, and from Hermon,” that I remember thee. And because he so remembers with humility, he shall earn his exaltation to fruition, for he is not “exalted” in himself, who “glories in the Lord.”
12. “Deep calleth unto deep with the voice of thy water-spouts” (ver. 7). I may perhaps finish the Psalm, aided as I am by your attention, whose fervour I perceive. As for your fatigue in hearing, I am not greatly solicitous, since you see me also, who speak, toiling in the heat of these exertions. Assuredly it is from your seeing me labouring, that you labour with me: for I am labouring not for myself, but for you. “Deep calleth unto deep with the voice of thy water-spouts.” It was God whom he addressed, who “remembered him from the land of Jordan and Hermon.” It was in wonder and admiration he spake this: “Abyss calleth unto abyss with the voice of Thy water-spouts.” What abyss is this that calls, and to what other abyss? Justly, because the “understanding” spoken of is an “abyss.” For an “abyss” is a depth that cannot be reached or comprehended; and it is principally applied to a great body of water. For there is a “depth,” a “profound,” the bottom of which cannot be reached by sounding. Furthermore, it is said in a certain passage, “Thy judgments are a mighty abyss,” Scripture meaning to suggest that the judgments of God are incomprehensible. What then is the “abyss” that calls, and to what other “abyss” does it call? If by “abyss” we understand a great depth, is not man’s heart, do you not suppose, “an abyss”? For what is there more profound than that “abyss”? Men may speak, may be seen by the operations of their members, may be heard speaking in conversation: but whose thought is penetrated, whose heart seen into? What he is inwardly engaged on, what he is inwardly capable of, what he is inwardly doing or what purposing, what he is inwardly wishing to happen, or not to happen, who shall comprehend? I think an “abyss” may not unreasonably be understood of man, of whom it is said elsewhere, “Man shall come to a deep heart, and God shall be exalted.” If man then is an “abyss,” in what way doth “abyss” call on “abyss”? Does man “call on” man as God is called upon? No, but “calls on” is equivalent to “calls to him.” For it was said of a certain person, he calls on death; that is, lives in such a way as to be inviting death; for there is no man at all who puts up a prayer, and calls expressly on death: but men by evil-living invite death. “Deep calls on deep,” then, is, “man calls to man.” Thus is it wisdom is learnt, and thus faith, when “man calls to man.” The holy preachers of God’s word call on the “deep:” are they not themselves “a deep” also? . . .
13. “Deep calleth to deep with the voice of Thy water-spouts.” I, who tremble all over, when my soul was disquieted on account of myself, feared greatly on account of Thy “judgments.” . . . Are those judgments slight ones? They are great ones, severe, hard to bear; but would they were all. “Deep calls to deep with the voice of Thy water-spouts,” in that Thou threatenest, Thou sayest, that there is another condemnation in store even after those sufferings. “Deep calls on deep with the voice of Thy water-spouts.” “Whither then shall I go from Thy presence? And whither shall I flee from Thy Spirit?” seeing that deep calls to deep, and after those sufferings severer ones are to be dreaded.
14. “All Thy overhangings and Thy waves are come upon me.” The “waves” in what I already feel, the “overhangings” in that Thou denouncest. All my sufferings are Thy waves; all Thy denouncements of judgments are Thy “overhangings.” In the “waves” that deep “calleth;” in the “overhangings” is the other “deep” which it “calls to.” In this that I suffer are all Thy waves; in the severer punishment that Thou threatenest, all Thy “overhangings” are come unto me. For He who threatens does not let His judgments fall upon us, but keeps them suspended over us. But inasmuch as Thou sittest at liberty, I have thus spoken unto my soul. “Hope in God: for I will confess unto Him. My God is the saving health of my countenance.” The more numerous my sufferings, the sweeter will be Thy mercy.
15. Therefore follows: “The Lord will commend His loving-kindness in the day-time; and in the night-time will He declare it” (ver. 8). In tribulation no man has leisure to hear: attend, when it is well with you; hear, when it is well with you; learn, when you are in tranquillity, the discipline of wisdom, and store up the word of God as you do food. For in tribulation every one must be profited by what he heard in the time of security. For in prosperity God “commends to thee His mercy,” in case thou serve Him faithfully, for He frees thee from tribulation; but it is “in the night” only that He “declares” His mercy to thee, which He “commended” to thee by day. When tribulation shall actually come, He will not leave thee destitute of His help; He will show thee that which He commended to thee in the daytime is true. For it is written in a certain passage, “The mercy of the Lord is seasonable in the time of affliction, as clouds of rain in the time of drought.” “The Lord hath commended His loving-kindness in the day-time, and in the night will He declare it.” He does not show that He is thine Helper, unless tribulation come, from whence thou must be rescued by Him who promised it to thee “in the day-time.” Therefore we are warned to be like “the ant.” For just as worldly prosperity is signified by “the day,” adversity by the night, so again in another way worldly prosperity is expressed by “the summer,” adversity by the winter. And what is it that the ant does? She lays up in summer what will be useful to her in winter. Whilst therefore it is summer, whilst it is well with you, whilst you are in tranquillity, hear the word of the Lord. For how can it be that in the midst of these tempests of the world, you should pass through the whole of that sea, without suffering? How could it happen? To what mortal’s lot has it fallen? If even it has been the lot of any, that very calm is more to be dreaded. “The Lord hath commended His loving-kindness in the day-time, and in the night-time will He declare it.” . . .”There is with me prayer unto the God of my life.” This I make my business here; I who am the “hart thirsting and longing for the water-brooks,” calling to mind the sweetness of that strain, by which I was led on through the tabernacle even to the house of God; whilst this “corruptible body presseth down the soul,” there is yet with me “prayer unto the God of my life.” For in order to making supplication unto God, I have not to buy aught from places beyond the sea; or in order that He may hear me, have I to sail to bring from a distance frankincense and perfumes, or have I to bring “calf or ram from the flock.” There is “with me prayer to the God of my life.” I have within a victim to sacrifice; I have within an incense to place on the altar; I have within a sacrifice wherewith to propitiate my God. “The sacrifice of God is a troubled spirit.” What sacrifice of a “troubled spirit” I have within, hear.
16. “I will say unto God, Thou art my lifter up. Why hast Thou forgotten me?” (ver. 9). For I am suffering here, even as if Thou hadst forgotten me. But Thou art trying me, and I know that Thou dost but put off, not take utterly from me, what Thou hast promised me. But yet, “Why hast Thou forgotten me?” So cried our Head also, as if speaking in our name. “My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me?” I will say unto God, “Thou art my lifter up; why hast Thou forgotten me?”
17. “Why hast Thou rejected me?” “Rejected” me, that is to say, from that height of the apprehension of the unchangeable Truth. “Why hast Thou rejected me?” Why, when already longing for those things, have I been cast down to these, by the weight and burden of my iniquity? This same voice in another passage said, “I said in my trance” (i.e., in my rapture, when he had seen some great thing or other), “I said in my trance, I am cast out of the sight of Thine eyes.” For he compared these things in which he found himself, to those toward which he had been raised; and saw himself cast out far “from the sight of God’s eyes,” as he speaks even here, “Why hast Thou rejected me? Why go I mourning, while mine enemy troubleth me, while he breaketh my bones?” Even he, my tempter, the devil; while offences are everywhere on the increase, because of the abundance of which “the love of many is waxing cold.” When we see the strong members of the Church generally giving way to the causes of offence, does not Christ’s body say, “The enemy breaketh my bones”? For it is the strong members that are “the bones;” and sometimes even those that are strong sink under their temptations. For whosoever of the body of Christ considers this, does he not exclaim, with the voice of Christ’s Body, “Why hast Thou rejected me? Why go I mourning, while mine enemy troubleth me, while he breaketh my bones?”
You may see not my flesh merely, but even my “bones.” To see those who were thought to have some stability, giving way under temptations, so that the rest of the weak brethren despair when they see those who are strong succumbing; how great, my brethren, are the dangers!
18. “They who trouble me cast me in the teeth.” Again that voice! “While they say daily unto me, Where is thy God?” (ver. 10). And it is principally in the temptations of the Church they say this, “Where is thy God?” How much was this cast in the teeth of the Martyrs! Those men so patient and courageous for the name of Christ, how often was it said to them, “Where is your God?” “Let Him deliver you, if He can.” For men saw their torments outwardly; they did not inwardly behold their crowns! “They who trouble me cast me in the teeth, while they say daily unto me, Where is thy God?” And on this account, seeing “my soul is disquieted on account of myself,” what else should I say unto it than those words:
“Why art thou cast down, O my soul; and why dost thou disquiet me?” (ver. 11). And, as it seems to answer, “Wouldest thou not have me disquiet thee, placed as I am here in so great evils? Wouldest thou have me not disquiet thee, panting as I am after what is good, thirsting and labouring as I am for it?” What should I say, but,
“Hope thou in God; for I will yet confess unto Him” (ver. 11). He states the very words of that confession; he repeats the grounds on which he fortifies his hope. “He is the health of my countenance, and my God.”