Psalms 128-130 (MT 129-131); Isaiah 42:6-7; 1 Peter 4:12-14.
We continue with our pilgrimage up to God’s holy presence in the Orthros Psalms and Songs of Ascent, this time focusing on the Tone Four anabathmoi, and Psalms 128-130 (MT 129-131). These three psalms, with the antiphons that are based on them, emphasize the humble condition of God’s people, and our need to cry from the depth to the One whose glory is seen most fully on high. But that light reaches to the most humble, and enlightens them. The theme of light in our darkness is first sounded in the introduction to the first Antiphon, which recalls Pascha morning: “The ointment-bearing women hastened, running to the Apostles and related to them the account of thy Resurrection, O Christ, saying Thou hast risen because thou art God, granting the world Great Mercy.”
This memory of our greatest hope, the Resurrection, casts its light on the humble recognition of the first Antiphon that follows:
The many sufferings from my youth combat me, but thou, O my Savior, assist and save me. O ye haters of Zion, depart in shame from before the Lord, for ye shall be dry by fire as the grass.
Though this antiphon looks at first blush simply as a dualism, in which the people of God are contrasted with the haters of God, who will be destroyed, the final word of this section reminds us that some of those “many sufferings” which fight against us are internal. Within each of us is that which “hates Zion” and which must depart from the LORD, for it is only chaff, and not really wheat. So we hear this reminder about the importance of purification for each and all of us: “By the Holy Spirit every spirit shall live and shall be purified, ascending, and brilliant, through the one hidden and pure Trinity.”
Here, then, is a particularly Christian way of reading the ancient Psalm 128/9, which speaks movingly of the afflictions of God’s people in exile, how they were whipped, and persecuted, but how God has sustained them. Here is the Psalm:
“Greatly have they afflicted me from my youth”—
let Israel now say—
“Greatly have they afflicted me from my youth,
yet they have not prevailed against me.
The plowers plowed upon my back;
they made long their furrows.”
The LORD is righteous;
he has cut the cords of the wicked.
May all who hate Zion
be put to shame and turned back.
Let them be like the grass on the housetops,
which withers before it grows up,
with which the reaper does not fill his hand
nor the binder of sheaves his arms,
nor do those who pass by say,
“The blessing of the LORD be upon you!
We bless you in the name of the LORD!”(Psalm 128/9)
Though, in morning prayer, we sing a shortened Christian interpretation of this Psalm, during the Pre-Sanctified Liturgies in Lent, we have been hearing the entire Psalm on a regular basis, so it is not sufficient for us to simply substitute the anabathos for the Psalm. Within the Psalm itself, there is much to learn. First, though there are internal enemies, the experience of God’s Old Testament AND New Testament people is such that we should not be surprised at suffering in society. The Church, in reciting this Psalm, reminds us that suffering has always been the lot of God’s people, from its youth, until even today, and that even if our backs have not received the stripes of the whip, many of our fathers in Christ—for example, St Paul—have. After all, Jesus was Himself chastised in this way, receiving blows from those who should have welcomed Him. The epistle of Peter, placed alongside this Psalm, teaches us to anticipate affliction, and not to be overwhelmed by it:
Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice insofar as you share Christ’s sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when his glory is revealed. If you are insulted for the name of Christ, you are blessed, because the Spirit of glory and of God rests upon you.
1 Peter 4:12-14
After all, those who hate God’s people do not see the whole picture, nor do they understand that their hatred and oppression are not true strengths—they are the tantrums of those who rebel against God, and will in the end be like grass with no soil, which burns up and cannot survive. The way of God’s Enemy, and those who join with that one, ends in destruction, for it is fighting against the LORD of life. There may be an initial appearance of flourishing, as with grass that grows for some while without soil, but no harvest can come of it. That flash-in-the-pan brilliance will soon burn away, and is not worthy of praise by those who walk by, and would normally say to the ones harvesting grain for the community, “May God bless you!” No, seeming strength and “life” that comes from rebellion against God and hatred bears no goodness in itself, though for a time it may have the appearance of vitality. If we suffer under those who are set against God, we may remember two things, then: that this should be no surprise, since we are following in the way of the crucified one; and that in the end, that which only seems strong will perish.
The second Antiphon and its foundational Psalm 129/130, picture the stance of someone who is indeed in the depth of darkness, needing God’s rescue:
To thee, O Lord, have I cried fervently from the depth of my soul. Let thy divine ears listen to me. All those who have placed their trust in the Lord shall transcend all sorrows.
This cry for help, and statement of assurance, is capped by another promising word concerning the life-giving One: “Verily, the Holy Spirit doth overflow with streams and passages of grace, and doth water all creation with refreshing life.”
Taken together, this Antiphon recalls the Psalm, but matches it with Jesus’ words in John’s gospel concerning the Holy Spirit who will spring forth from those who belong to Him: “ Whoever believes in me, as Scripture has said, rivers of living water will flow from within them” (John 7:38). We rightly look for help from the heights, knowing our humble condition in the depths. But there is a promise not only for help from above, but also from around and within, for since the Incarnation, God has indwelt His creation deeply, and overflows from within us, not merely from His heavenly throne!
The entire Psalm speaks poignantly of our human condition, God’s mercy, His forgiveness of our sins, and the importance of waiting for God’s appointed morning, which will bring more grace than we can imagine:
Out of the depths I cry to you, O LORD!
O Lord, hear my voice!
Let your ears be attentive
to the voice of my pleas for mercy!If you, O LORD, should mark iniquities,
O Lord, who could stand?
But with you there is forgiveness,
that you may be feared.
I wait for the LORD, my soul waits,
and in his word I hope;
my soul waits for the Lord
more than watchmen for the morning,
more than watchmen for the morning.
O Israel, hope in the LORD!
For with the LORD there is steadfast love,
and with him is plentiful redemption.
And he will redeem Israel
from all his iniquities.Psalm 129/130
With God there is steadfast love, and plentiful redemption—a love and redemption that goes beyond the forgiveness of sin, wonderful though that is, and indwells us, making us new. The morning for which the women disciples watched was the morning of the new creation, and we re-enact this watchfulness each Sunday Orthros as we prepare for the weekly mini-Easter of the Divine Liturgy. Jesus’ answer to the human cry from the depths was to forge a way not only for the Old Covenant people, but for everyone. The prophet Isaiah saw this in a passage that we read this week during the appointed Thursday readings for this fifth week of Lent. The Father says to the Suffering Servant, His Son: “I will keep You and give You as a covenant to the people, as a light to the Gentiles, to open blind eyes, to bring out prisoners from the prison, those who sit in darkness from the prison house” (Is 42:6-7). We cry from the depths, and are both rescued and healed.
Because of these assurances, the final and third song, with its foundational Psalm 130/131, models for us a stance of patient waiting and hoping in this forgiving God:
“Let my heart rise to thee, O Word, and let not the pleasures of the world enter into me to vie with the earthly life. And as each of us hath surpassing love to his mother, the more should we love the Lord with utmost fervor.”
Here is a prayer that we should continue to fix our attention on the Giver of life, without distraction, as a child looks to his or her mother. With toddlers, we know, sometimes no one but mom will do—much to the chagrine of a tired mom, who would like a break! But with God there is no such fatigue, for He is entirely self-sufficient, and able to meet every need. This is reflected in the closing statement:
“By the Holy Spirit cometh the riches of divine knowledge, divine vision, and wisdom; for through Him the Word doth proclaim all the commandments of the Father.”
This third anabathmos reflects wisely on the beautiful and “homey” psalm upon which it is based:
O LORD, my heart is not lifted up;
my eyes are not raised too high;
I do not occupy myself with things
too great and too marvelous for me.
But I have calmed and quieted my soul,
like a weaned child with its mother;
like a weaned child is my soul within me.
O Israel, hope in the LORD
from this time forth and forevermore.
Psalm 130/131
For adults, humility is hard to come by. We all too quickly forget that we are in the depths, and in need of God’s rescue and illumination. So we must cultivate quietness and calm as we wait for the LORD, and not think, ridiculously, too highly of our importance. Sometimes the most perfect worship is to wait in silence, not to fill our minds and the air with puffed-up ideas of our importance, as did the Pharisee.St. John Cassian amplifies this for us:
And so it is most clearly established by examples and testimonies from Scripture that the mischief of pride, although it comes later in the order of the combat [against sin], is yet earlier in origin and is the beginning of all sins and faults. Neither is it (like the other vices) simply fatal to its opposite virtue—that is, humility—but it is also at the same time destructive of all virtues. Nor does it only tempt ordinary folk and small people, but chiefly those who already stand on the heights of valor. And so the blessed David, although he guarded the recesses of his heart with the utmost care, so that he dared to say to him from whom the secrets of his conscience were not hid, “Lord, my heart is not exalted, nor are my eyes lifted up; neither have I walked in great matters, nor in wonderful things above me. If I was not humble” and again, “He that is proud shall not dwell in the midst of my house.”) Still, because he knew how hard that watchfulness is even for those that are perfect, he did not so presume on his own efforts, but prayed to God and implored his help, that he might escape unwounded by the darts of this foe . . . . For he feared and dreaded falling into that which is said of the proud, namely, “God resists the proud” and “Every one that exalts his heart is unclean before the Lord.” INSTITUTES 12.6. NPNF 2 11:281(alt).
It may be that some would argue with St. John about pride being the first temptation: for example the Apostle Paul and Fr. Alexander Schmeman speak of lack of thankfulness and refusal to worship (Romans 1; For the Light of the World). Nevertheless, pride is certainly related, for a lack of thankfulness implies that we think that WE know better than God. And it is certainly the case that in our Christian pilgrimmage, pride may intrude and spoil all that has gone before in our efforts against passions and sin. So, then, this final Psalm teaches us the humility of a child, about which Jesus Himself said, “of such is the kingdom of heaven.” Here is the starting point, then, for our entrance into the Divine Liturgy—recognition of our need, and whole-hearted dependance upon the One whom we approach. Out of the darkness we call to Him, and He hears us.
Edith M. Humphrey 