Archive for the ‘Anagogic exegesis’ Category
Origen – Allegorical Meaning of the Parable of the Wise and Foolish Virgins
John Melhuish Strudwick, The Ten Virgins (c.1884)
AS an earlier post on the allegorical meaning of Moses defending Jethro’s seven daughters at the well is one of the most-often visited here, I though I’d follow up with another on the parable of the wise and foolish virgins, which, as I mentioned before, seems similar. We’re guided here by several patristic commentaries on the parables, but of course need not restrict ourselves to the meanings they find.
The parable would have a simple and straightforward interpretation if it concerned only one wise and one foolish virgin. It would then affirm the ethical principle of ‘keeping ones lamp lit’ by remaining constantly vigilant and attentive to God. The specific reference to five (and not merely several), however, suggests to several commentators a reference to the senses.
We can parse the parable (shown below) into its main structural elements and their general meanings as follows:
Virgins. The patristic consensus is that these refer collectively a wise or foolish soul. However, since all are virgins (including the foolish ones), there is a also tendency to see them more specifically as souls of those who are at least make the effort to follow a religious life.
Bridegroom. The obvious Christian meaning here is Jesus Christ.
Marriage. Spiritual marriage with Jesus, also understood (as implied by verse 1) as attainment of the kingdom of heaven. Some commentators (e.g., Augustine) take the kingdom here in the most literal sense of attaining heaven in the afterlife, but that opposes meaning implied by Luke 17:21, the kingdom of God is within you. More likely then, the marriage symbolizes the soul’s union with God, a state of being constantly attuned and receptive to God’s Word as it directs and guides our minds.
Lamps. Conscious attention; vigilance.
Oil. That which keeps the lamps lit. Oil suggests grace or Spirit received from God. However the whole point of the parable is to suggest that effort on our part is required to obtain the oil. What distinguishes the wise from the foolish virgins, according to several patristic commentators, is that the former pursue good works (which might be broadly defined to include not only acts of charity, but prayer, reading of Scripture, meditation, etc.). Origen mentions sound doctrine as another form of oil that keeps the lamps lit.
Origen in his commentary on Matthew 1:1ff. understands the virgins as symbolizing “powers of perception,” which include for him both the physical senses and spiritual senses. (Origen is considered the father of the doctrine of spiritual senses.) Right use of sensation requires it being directed by the WORD of God. As with Augustine (Sermon 43 = Ben. 73), good works are needed to maintain this connection, i.e., to keep the lamps lit.
In the earlier post on Moses and Jethro’s daughters, I suggested that the story could be interpreted as either (1) describing a state of spiritualized physical perception — such that, quickened by grace and spirit, our physical senses may perceive material objects in a unitive, holy, and transfigured way, or (2) referring to purely spiritual senses, i.e., those which perceive immaterial things. Origen’s commentary of the parable of the virgins — which, it must be admitted, raises more questions than it answers — nevertheless does not seem inconsistent with either interpretation.
Hans Urs von Balthasar’s theological aesthetics (von Balthasar, 1982; McInroy, 2014) appears to affirm a link between Origen, spiritual senses, the virgins parable and transfigured physical perception. (McInroy, p. 159: “Balthasar calls for perception of a form that contains both sensory and ‘supersensory’ aspects (i.e. a material component and a ‘spiritual’ dimension).”
We add at the end a passage from Pseudo-Macarius’ Homily 4, which refers to the parable. He briefly connects the virgins with the physical senses within a more general discussion of how the mind in its entirely must remain fixed on God and spiritual things, and not lapse into worldly concerns.
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MATTHEW 25:1–13 (KJV)
[1] Then shall the kingdom of heaven be likened unto ten virgins, which took their lamps, and went forth to meet the bridegroom.
[2] And five of them were wise, and five were foolish.
[3] They that were foolish took their lamps, and took no oil with them:
[4] But the wise took oil in their vessels with their lamps.
[5] While the bridegroom tarried, they all slumbered and slept.
[6] And at midnight there was a cry made, Behold, the bridegroom cometh; go ye out to meet him.
[7] Then all those virgins arose, and trimmed their lamps.
[8] And the foolish said unto the wise, Give us of your oil; for our lamps are gone out.
[9] But the wise answered, saying, Not so; lest there be not enough for us and you: but go ye rather to them that sell, and buy for yourselves.
[10] And while they went to buy, the bridegroom came; and they that were ready went in with him to the marriage: and the door was shut.
[11] Afterward came also the other virgins, saying, Lord, Lord, open to us.
[12] But he answered and said, Verily I say unto you, I know you not.
[13] Watch therefore, for ye know neither the day nor the hour wherein the Son of man cometh.
Origen, Commentary on Matthew 25:1ff. (Latin translation = Klostermann Commentariorum Series 63−64)
“Then the kingdom of heaven shall be compared to ten maidens who took their lamps and went to meet the bridegroom and the bride. Five of them were foolish, and five were wise” (Mt 25:1−2)….
Not without reason do we say that the powers of perception of all who have come to know divine things, no matter how they have received the WORD of God, “whether by chance or by truth” (cf. Phil 2:18), are “virgins” — made virgins by the WORD of God in which they have believed or wish to believe. For such is the WORD of God that it shares of its purity with all who through its teaching have withdrawn from the service of idols or from the service of the elements of God’s creation (cf. 1 Cor 10:14; Gal 4:3), and have come to the service of God through Jesus Christ even if they have not carried out good works nor prepared themselves for beatitude. But just as, according to the WORD of truth, the individual virtues — which are, in substance, Christ — go together, so that whoever has one has all (for Christ cannot be separated from himself), so too do all the powers of perception go together; and wherever one of these senses has too little of the right teaching of the WORD, there will all the other senses be deceived, as it were, and turned into fools. By powers of perception or senses I mean both those ordinarily understood as such: seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting, touching, and those which the Book of Proverbs calls divine with the words: “You will find the knowledge of God” (cf. Prov 2:5). But again, the WORD of God is the cause of the right use of the senses, and it is not possible that, . . . someone use certain activities of the senses and neglect others. Thus if the Word has made one of the senses wise, so as to constitute it a virgin, it is necessary for it to pour out its wisdom into the other senses as well. Thus it is not possible that, of the five senses one has, some should be foolish and others prudent; they must rather all be prudent or all wise.
All these senses now take their “lamps” . . . when they accept that the Word of God and the Son of God is the bridegroom of the church; “they go out” from the world and from the errors of many gods and come to meet the Savior who is always ready to come to these virgins so that, with the worthy among them, he might go in to his blessed bride, the church. And after the reception of the WORD, as long as the light of the faithful “shines before men, that they may see their good works and give glory to their Father who is in heaven” (Mt 5:16), they are prudent [maidens], the kind who take along the oil which nourishes the light which is always poured forth in good works, i.e., the WORD of doctrine. They fill the vessels of their souls from this WORD, buying it from the teachers and keepers of the tradition who sell it, as much as is needed, even if their end is late and the WORD coming to their fulfillment is delayed; for they hasten to him to be fulfilled and to be set outside the world. But those who, after becoming Christian, were concerned to receive only enough teaching to last them to the end, … these are “foolish.” They accepted their lamps, which of course were lit at first, but they did not take oil along for such a long journey to go meet the spouse.
“As the bridegroom was delayed, all the maidens slumbered and slept” (Mt 25:5). When the bridegroom delays this way and the WORD does not come quickly to make perfect their life, the senses suffer somewhat while they remain and sleep, so to speak, in the night of the world. For they sleep in that they lose something of their alert vigilance; but those prudent maidens did not lose their lamps nor give up hope of saving their oil. . . .
“But at midnight,” that is, at the high point of that remissness, and at the midpoint between the spent light of evening and the still-awaited light of day, “there was a cry” (Mt 25:6), the cry of angels, I think, wishing to awaken all the slumbering senses and call them to go to meet the bridegroom. Inside the senses of those sleeping they cry out: “Behold the bridegroom! Come out to meet him!” (Mt 25:6). . . . All indeed heard and got up, but not all dressed their lamps in the proper way … and at an inopportune time “the foolish said to the wise, ‘Give us some of your oil’” (Mt 25:8). For although they were foolish, they still understood that they needed to go meet the bridegroom with light, with all the lamps of their senses illuminated. And since this parable was spoken for everyone to hear, Christ added for his disciples the words: “Watch therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour” (Mt 25:13).
Source: von Balthasar, p. 190f.
Pseudo-Macarius, Homilies 4.6f.
6. Take, for example, the five prudent and vigilant virgins (Mt 25:1 ff.). They enthusiastically had taken in the vessels of their heart the oil of the supernatural grace of the Spirit — a thing not conformable to their nature. For this reason they were able to enter together with the Bridegroom into the heavenly bridal chamber. The other foolish ones, however, content with their own nature, did not watch nor did they betake themselves to receive “the oil of gladness” (Ps 45:7) in their vessels. But still in the flesh, they fell into a deep sleep through negligence, inattentiveness, laziness, and ignorance or even through considering themselves justified. Because of this they were excluded from the bridal chamber of the kingdom because they were unable to please the heavenly Bridegroom. Bound by ties of the world and by earthly love, they did not offer all their love and devotion to the heavenly Spouse nor did they carry with them the oil. But the souls who seek the sanctification of the Spirit, which is a thing that lies beyond natural power, are completely bound with their whole love to the Lord. There they walk; there they pray; there they focus their thoughts, ignoring all other things. For this reason they are considered worthy to receive the oil of divine grace and without any failure they succeed in passing to life for they have been accepted by and found greatly pleasing to the spiritual Bridegroom. But other souls, who remain on the level of their own nature, crawl along the ground with their earthly thoughts. They think only in a human way. Their mind lives only on the earthly level. And still they are convinced in their own thought that they look to the Bridegroom and that they are adorned with the perfections of a carnal justification. But in reality they have not been born of the Spirit from above (Jn 3:3) and have not accepted the oil of gladness.
7. The five rational senses of the soul, if they have received grace from above and the sanctification of the Spirit, truly are the prudent virgins. They have received from above the wisdom of grace. But if they continue depending solely on their own nature, they class themselves with the foolish virgins and show themselves to be children of this world.
Just as the souls who have completely given themselves totally to the Lord have their thoughts there, their prayers directed there, walk there, and are bound there by the desire of the love of God, so, on the contrary, the souls who have given themselves to the love of the world and wish to live completely on this earth walk there, have their thoughts there, and it is there where their minds live (Lk 12:34).
For this reason they are unable to turn themselves over to the kind, prudential guidance of the Spirit. Something that is foreign to our basic nature, I mean, heavenly grace, necessarily demands being joined and drawn into our nature in order that we can enter into the heavenly hridal chamber of the kingdom and obtain eternal salvation.
Source: Maloney, p. 52f.
First draft: 9 Oct 2022
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Bibliography
von Balthasar, Hans Urs. Origen, Spirit and Fire: A Thematic Anthology of His Writings. Tr. Robert J. Daly. CUA Press, 2001.
von Balthasar, Hans Urs. Glory of the Lord Vol. 1: Seeing The Form. Tr. Erasmo Leiva-Merikakis. T&T Clark, 1982.
Gavrilyuk, Paul L.; Coakley, Sarah. The Spiritual Senses: Perceiving God in Western Christianity. Cambridge University Press, 2011.
Klostermann, Erich. Origenes Werke: Bd. Origenes Matthäuserklärung, II. Die lateinische Übersetzung der Commentariorum series. J. C. Hinrichs, 1933.
MacMullen, R. G. St. Augustine: Sermon 43. In: Ed. Philip Schaff, Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, First Series, Vol. 6., Buffalo, NY, Christian Literature Publishing Co., 1888. Online (New Advent) version by Kevin Knight.
Maloney, George A. Pseudo-Macarius: The Fifty Spiritual Homilies and the Great Letter. Classics of Western Spirituality. Paulist Press, 1992.
McInroy, Mark. Balthasar on the Spiritual Senses: Perceiving Splendour. OUP, 2014. [dissertation]
Rahner, Karl. The doctrine of the ‘spiritual senses’ in Origen, Theological Investigations 16.81−103; originally published as Le début d’une doctrine des cinq sens spirituels chez Origene, Revue d’ascétique et de mystique 13, 1932, 113−45.
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St. Bernard – Love is the Soul’s Greatness
St. Bernard of Clairvaux, Church of St. Louis, Buffalo, NY
PART of St. Bernard’s commentary on Canticle 1:5, I am black, but comely, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, as the tents of Kedar, as the curtains of Solomon. Here the bride (the soul) says that it is “black” — that is sinful. Yet beneath sin is the beautiful image of God, so that the soul may also claim to be comely. An essential theme of the Song of Songs is the soul’s realization that God finds it beautiful and loves it beyond all measure.
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SERMON 27
The Beauty of the Bride Compared to the Curtains of Solomon, Why She is Called a Heaven
“As the curtains of Solomon.” [Cant 1:5]
“for ye are the temple of the living God; as God hath said, I will dwell in them, and walk in them” [2 Cor 6:16].
IN what way can she be beautiful like the curtains of Solomon, as if Solomon in all his glory could even remotely resemble the beauty of the bride, or possessed anything to match the splendor of her adornment? Even if I were to say that these mysterious curtains refer to the quality of blackness as well as to the tents of Kedar, I should perhaps be correct; there are arguments to support this, as I shall show later. But if we suppose that the beauty of any sort of curtains is to be compared to the glory of the bride, then we need the help for which you have been praying, if we are to be worthy to unveil this mystery. For must not outward loveliness, no matter how radiant, seem to an enlightened mind to be cheap and ugly, when compared with the inward beauty of a holy soul? What qualities can we find within the framework of this passing world that can equal the radiance of a soul that has shed its decrepit, earthly body, and been clothed in heaven’s loveliness, graced with the jewels of consummate virtue, clearer than mountain air because of its transcendence, more brilliant than the sun? So do not look back to the earthly Solomon when you wish to investigate the ownership of those curtains whose beauty delights the bride because so like her own.
2. What does she mean then by saying: “I am beautiful like the curtains of Solomon”? I feel that here we have a great and wonderful mystery, provided that we apply the words, not to the Solomon of this Song, but to him who said of himself: “What is here is greater than Solomon.” [Mat 12:42] This Solomon to whom I refer is so great a Solomon that he is called not only Peaceful — which is the meaning of the word Solomon — but Peace itself; for Paul proclaims that “He is our Peace.” [Eph 2:14] I am certain that in this Solomon we can discover something that we may unhesitatingly compare with the beauty of the bride. Note especially what the Psalm says of his curtains: “You have spread out the heavens like a curtain.” [Ps. 104:2; cf. Isa 40:22] The first Solomon, though sufficiently wise and powerful, did not spread out the heavens like a curtain; it was he, rather who is not merely wise but Wisdom itself, who both created them and spread them out. It was he, and not the former Solomon, who spoke these words of God his Father: “When he set the heavens in their place, I was there.” [Pro 8:27] His power and his wisdom were undoubtedly present at the establishing of the heavens. And do not imagine that he stood by idle, as merely a spectator, because he said “I was there,” and not “I was cooperating.” Search further on in this text and you will find that he clearly states he was with him arranging all things. Therefore he said: “Whatever the Father does, the Son does too.” [Joh 5:19] He it was who spread out the heavens like a curtain, a curtain of superlative beauty that covers the whole face of the earth like a huge tent, and charms our human eyes with the variegated spectacle of sun and moon and stars. Is there anything more lovely than this curtain? Anything more bejeweled than the heavens? Yet even this can in no way be compared to the splendor and comeliness of the bride. It fails because it is a physical thing, the object of our physical senses; its form will pass away. “For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.” [2 Cor 4:18]
3. The bride’s form must be understood in a spiritual sense, her beauty as something that is grasped by the intellect; it is eternal because it is an image of eternity. Her gracefulness consists of love, and you have read that “love never ends.” [1 Cor 13:8] It consist of justice, for “her justice endures forever.” It consists of patience, and Scripture tells you “the patience of the poor shall not perish forever.”[ Ps. 9:18] What shall I say of voluntary poverty? Of humility? To the former an eternal kingdom is promised, to the latter an eternal exaltation. To these must be added the holy fear of the Lord that endures for ever and ever; prudence too, and temperance and fortitude and all other virtues; what are they but pearls in the jeweled raiment of the bride, shining with unceasing radiance? I say unceasing, because they are the basis, the very foundation of immortality. For there is no place for immortal and blissful life in the soul except by means and mediation of the virtues. …
4. Though this visible, material heaven, with its great variety of stars is unsurpassingly beautiful within the bounds of the material creation, I should not dare to compare its beauty with the spiritual and varied loveliness she received with her first robe when being arrayed in the garments of holiness. But there is a heaven of heavens to which the Prophet refers. “Sing to the Lord who mounts above the heaven of heavens, to the east.” [Ps. 68:33] This heaven is in the world of the intellect and the spirit; and he who made the heavens by his wisdom, created it to be his eternal dwelling-place. You must not suppose that the bride’s affections can find rest outside of this heaven, where she knows her Beloved dwells: for where her treasure is, there her heart is too. She so yearns for him that she is jealous of those who live in his presence; and since she may not yet participate in the vision that is theirs, she strives to resemble them in the way she lives. By deeds rather than words she proclaims: “Lord, I love the beauty of your house, the place where your glory dwells.” [Ps. 26:8] …
IV. 6. Contemplate what a glory is hers who compares herself to heaven, even to that heaven who is so much more glorious as he is divine. This is no rashness, taking her comparison from whence her origin comes. For if she compares herself to the tents of Kedar because of her body drawn from the earth, why should she not glory in her likeness to heaven because of the heavenly origin of her soul, especially since her life bears witness to her origin and to the dignity of her nature and her homeland? She adores and worships one God, just like the angels; she loves Christ above all things, just like the angels; she is chaste, just like the angels, and that in the flesh of a fallen race, in a frail body that the angels do not have. But she seeks and savors the things that they enjoy, not the things that are on the earth. What can be a clearer sign of her heavenly origin than that she retains a natural likeness to it in the land of unlikeness, than that as an exile on earth she enjoys the glory of the celibate life, than that she lives like an angel in an animal body? These gifts reveal a power that is more of heaven than of earth. They clearly indicate that a soul thus endowed is truly from heaven. …
10. WHAT a capacity this soul has, how privileged its merits, that it is found worthy not only to receive the divine presence, but to be able to make sufficient room! What can I say of her who can provide avenues spacious enough for the God of majesty to walk in! She certainly cannot afford to be entangled in law-suits nor by worldly cares; she cannot be enslaved by gluttony and sensual pleasures, by the lust of the eyes, the ambition to rule, or by pride in the possession of power. If she is to become heaven, the dwelling-place of God, it is first of all essential that she be empty of all these defects. Otherwise how could she be still enough to know that he is God? Nor may she yield in the least to hatred or envy or bitterness, “because wisdom will not enter a deceitful soul.” [Wis 1:4] The soul must grow and expand, that it may be roomy enough for God. Its width is its love, if we accept what the Apostle says: “Widen your hearts in love.” [2 Cor 6:13] The soul, being a spirit, does not admit of material expansion, but grace confers gifts on it that nature is not equipped to bestow. Its growth and expansion must be understood in a spiritual sense; it is its virtue that increases, not its substance. Even its glory is increased. And finally it grows and advances toward “mature manhood, to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ.” [Eph 4:13] Eventually it becomes “a holy temple in the Lord.” [Eph 2:21] The capacity of any man’s soul is judged by the amount of love he possesses; hence he who loves much is great, he who loves a little is small, he who has no love is nothing, as Paul said: “If I have not love, I am nothing.” [1 Cor 13:3] But if he begins to acquire some love however, if he tries at least to love those who love him, and salutes the brethren and others who salute him, I may no longer describe him as nothing because some love must be present in the give and take of social life. In the words of the Lord, however, what more is he doing than others. When I discover a love as mediocre as this, I cannot call such a man noble or great: he is obviously narrow-minded and mean.
11. But if his love expands and continues to advance till it outgrows these narrow, servile confines, and finds itself in the open ranges where love is freely given in full liberty of spirit; when from the generous bounty of his goodwill he strives to reach out to all his neighbors, loving each of them as himself, surely one may no longer query, “What more are you doing than others?” Indeed he has made himself vast. His heart is filled with a love that embraces everybody…
VII. 12. Do you not now see what heavens the Church possesses within her, and that she herself, in her universality, is an immense heaven, stretching out “from sea to sea, and from the river to the ends of the earth.” [Ps. 72:8[ Consider therefore, to what you may compare her in this respect, provided you do not forget what I mentioned a short while ago concerning the heaven of heaven and heavens of heavens. Just like our mother above, this one, though still a pilgrim, has her own heaven: spiritual men outstanding in their lives and reputations, men of genuine faith, unshaken hope, generous love, men raised to the heights of contemplation. These men rain down God’s saving work like showers, reprove with a voice of thunder, shine with a splendor of miracles. They proclaim the glory of God, and stretched out like curtains over all the earth, make known the law of life and knowledge written by God’s finger into their own lives, “to give knowledge of salvation to his people.” [Luk 1:77] They show forth the gospel of peace, because they are the curtain of Solomon.
Source: Walsh, Killian; Edmonds, Irene (trs.). Bernard of Clairvaux: Sermons on the Song of Songs. Vol. 1. Cistercian Publications, 1971.
Latin: Sermones in Cantica canticorum, Migne Patrologia Latina 183 785A−1198A, Paris, 1854.
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Bibliography
A priest of Mount Melleray. St Bernard’s Sermons on the Canticle of Canticles, 3 vols, Dublin, 1920. (Volume 1, Volume 2).
Eales, Samuel J. Saint Bernard: Cantica Canticorum, Eighty-six Sermons. London, 1895.
Leclercq, J.; Talbot, C. H., Rochais, H. M. (eds.). Sermones super Cantica canticorum, in Bernardi opera, volumes 1−2. Ed. Cistercienses, Rome, 1957−58. Latin critical edition.
Walsh, Killian; Edmonds, Irene (trs.). Bernard of Clairvaux: Sermons on the Song of Songs. 4 vols. CF (Cistercian Fathers Series) vols. 4, 7, 31, and 40. Spencer, MA: Cistercian Publications, 1971−80.
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St. Bernard on the Mystical Sense of Windows and Lattices in the Canticle
MORE from St. Bernard’s sermons on the Song of Songs. He associates the lattices and windows of verse 2.9 with, respectively, two forms of ‘confession’: a confession of our sins, and a confession of praise and thanksgiving. Through these openings — the former the lesser and the latter the greater — God, as Bernard puts it, may “regard thee with a gracious glance.”
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SERMON LVI
On the Mystical Sense of the Wall, the Windows, and the Lattices.
“Behold He standeth behind our wall, looking through the windows, looking through the lattices.” [Cant 2:9]
THERE is another matter which thou shouldst attend to with all possible vigilance. Thou must see to it that the Beloved shall always find wide open the windows and the lattices of thy confessions, if I may so speak, so that through these openings He may regard thee within with a gracious glance. For His regard is thy progress. Lattices (cancelli) are narrow windows, which persons who make a business of writing cause to be opened in the wall, in order to obtain light for their work. Hence, as I believe, the name “chancellors” is given to those who have the office of drawing up charters and other formal instruments. Now there are two species of confession, the one consisting in a sorrowful declaration of our sins, the other in a gladsome acknowledgment of the divine benefits. Whenever, therefore, I make that confession which is always accompanied with anguish (angustia) of heart — I mean the confession of sin — it appears to me that I have opened the lattice, that is to say, the narrow window (angustiorem fenestram). Nor can there be any doubt that He who stands behind the wall as a loving Observer, will gladly avail Himself of this aperture and look in upon me, because “a contrite and humbled heart God will not despise.” [Ps. 51:17] He Himself has told me to open my lattice for Him, saying by His Prophet, “Do thou first confess thy iniquities, that thou mayst be justified.” [Isa 43:26]
But if occasionally my heart dilates under the influence of charity and, thinking of the divine condescension and compassion, I feel moved to let my soul expand in the confession of praise and thanksgiving, at such times I may be truly said to open, not now the lattice, but the widest of my windows, for the sake of the Bridegroom Who stands behind the wall. And I think He will look in through this ampler opening the more willingly in proportion as the “sacrifice of praise glorifieth” [Ps. 50:23] Him more.
Source: St. Bernard, Sermons on the Song of Songs, Sermon 52. Translation: A priest of Mount Melleray. St Bernard’s Sermons on the Canticle of Canticles, 3 vols, Dublin, 1920; vol. 2, pp. 141−142.
Latin: Sermones in Cantica canticorum, Migne Patrologia Latina 183 785A−1198A, Paris, 1854.
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Bibliography
A priest of Mount Melleray. St Bernard’s Sermons on the Canticle of Canticles, 3 vols, Dublin, 1920. (Volume 1, Volume 2).
Eales, Samuel J. Saint Bernard: Cantica Canticorum, Eighty-six Sermons. London, 1895.
Leclercq, J.; Talbot, C. H., Rochais, H. M. (eds.). Sermones super Cantica canticorum, in Bernardi opera, volumes 1−2. Ed. Cistercienses, Rome, 1957−58. Latin critical edition.
Walsh, Killian; Edmonds, Irene (trs.). Bernard of Clairvaux: Sermons on the Song of Songs. 4 vols. CF (Cistercian Fathers Series) vols. 4, 7, 31, and 40. Spencer, MA: Cistercian Publications, 1971−80.
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St. Bernard on Mystical Ecstasy
St. Bruno, Correrie Grand Chartreuse
ST. BERNARD wrote eighty-six sermons commenting on the Song of Songs. A major theme of the commentary is that the Song is an allegory for union or marriage of the individual soul to God brought about, in part, through contemplation. This sermon, which, discusses the ‘sleep of the soul’ or ecstasy, potentially influenced later Christian mystics like St. Teresa of Avila and St. John of the Cross.
An interesting feature is St. Bernard’s distinction between two kinds of ecstasy. The greater kind is the experience of losing awareness of sensations entirely during contemplation. The lesser kind (“to live on earth unfettered by earthly desires”), although the precise meaning is unclear, suggests a kind of waking ecstasy, in which one may conduct the usual activities of life, but detached from earthly concerns.
St. Bernard’s sermons on the Song are surprisingly little studied today.
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SERMON LII
On the Mystical Sleep of the Spouse, and the two kinds of ecstasy.
“I adjure you, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes and the harts of the fields, that you stir not up nor make the beloved to wake till she please.” (Cant. 2:7)
This adjuration, my brethren, is addressed to the young maidens. For they are the “daughters of Jerusalem,” so called because although delicate and tender, and still weak and girlish in their actions and affections, nevertheless they cling close to the Spouse, in the hope of advancing towards and ultimately reaching the heavenly Jerusalem. These therefore the Bridegroom charges not to intrude upon His beloved whilst she is taking her repose, and on no account to presume to awaken her until it is her pleasure. For the reason why He places His Hand under her head, like a most affectionate husband (according to what has been said already), is in order that He may make her rest and slumber on His Bosom. And now the Holy Scripture further tells us that He most lovingly and condescendingly watches over her while she sleeps, lest the young maidens, with their frequent little troubles, should disturb her quiet and compel her to interrupt her repose. Such appears to be the literal connexion of our present text with the preceding. Yet as regards that solemn adjuration “by the roes and the harts of the fields,” if we take the words literally they seem to bear no relevant sense, so entirely are they appropriated to the spiritual signification. But however this may be, at all events, “it is good for us to be here” (Matt 17:4), and to spend a little time contemplating the goodness, the sweetness, the gracious condescension of the heavenly Bridegroom. What tenderness, O man, hast thou ever found in any human affection to be compared with that which is revealed to us here from the Heart of the Most High? And the revelation is made by the Holy Ghost Who “searcheth the deep things of God” (1Cor 2:10), Who cannot be ignorant of anything contained in the Heart of Him Whose own Spirit He is, and, as being the Spirit of truth, cannot speak anything other than what He finds therein recorded.
Nor is there wanting of our own race one who has been so happy as to merit the joy of being made the object of this divine tenderness, and of experiencing in herself this delightful secrets of heavenly love. To question this would be to doubt the truth of the inspired passage which I am now discussing. For the celestial Bridegroom is clearly represented here as most anxiously concerned for the repose of a human Spouse very dear to Him, whom with affectionate solicitude He holds in His arms whilst she slumbers, fearful lest a sleep so pleasant should be disturbed by any annoyance or agitation. My brethren, I cannot contain myself for joy, when I think of how that infinite Majesty disdains not to stoop so low as to engage thus in sweet and familiar intercourse with our poor nature, when I think of how the Most High God vouchsafes to contract a marriage alliance with the soul even during the time of her exile, and to manifest towards her all the tender affection which the most loving of bridegrooms could show to his bride. I have no doubt that what we read of on earth is perfectly accomplished in the case of every soul in heaven. I believe that we shall fully experience there what we here find described in the holy Book; except that no language can give a true idea of the capacity for love which the soul shall have in the next life, nor even of that with which she is at present endowed. What, think you, is the happiness awaiting her in heaven, when even on earth she is treated so affectionately that she feels herself embraced with the arms of God, fostered on the Bosom of God, guarded by the watchfulness and jealousy of God, lest anything should disturb her slumber and cause her to awake before it is her pleasure?
But now, my brethren, let me explain, if I can, what is this sleep which the Bridegroom wants His Spouse to enjoy, and will not allow her to be awakened out of it except at her own desire. An explanation is necessary, because otherwise, when some one happens to read in the Apostle, “It is now the hour for us to rise from sleep” (Rom 13:11); or, in the psalms, that verse where David says to God, “Enlighten my eyes that I may never sleep in death” (Ps. 13:3), he may easily be puzzled by the ambiguity of the term sleep, and be quite unable to discover any worthy interpretation for the slumber of the Spouse, of which there is question here. Nor has this sleep anything in common with that whereof Christ spoke in the Gospel, when He said, “Lazarus our friend sleepeth; but I go that I may awake him out of sleep” (John 11:11). For the sleep He meant was the sleep of bodily death, although the disciples understood His words as referring to ordinary slumber. The sleep of the Spouse has nothing to do with the body. It is as distinct from that gentle sleep which for a time sweetly seals up the material senses, as it is from the more terrible which finally extinguishes the life of the flesh. Still less is it identified with the sleep of spiritual death which paralyses the soul whilst she obstinately perseveres in a state of sin. For instead of bringing darkness and torpor, the sleep of the Spouse is wakeful and life-giving; it illuminates the mind, expels the death of sin, and bestows immortality. Nevertheless, it is a true sleep, which transports rather than stupefies the faculties. It is also a true death. This I affirm without the least hesitation, since the Apostle says, in commendation of some who were still living in the flesh, “You are dead, and your life is hid with Christ in God” (Col 3:3).
Therefore I also can be guilty of no absurdity when I describe the ecstasy of the Spouse as a kind of death, not the death which terminates life, but that which delivers her true life from danger, so that she may say with the Psalmist, “Our soul hath been delivered as a sparrow out of the snare of the fowlers” (Ps. 124:7) . For in the present life the soul is always surrounded by the snares of temptation, which, however, have no power to frighten her as often as she is transported out of herself by some holy and irresistible attraction, if yet the mental exaltation and ravishment be so great as to lift her above the common and usual modes of thinking and feeling. So we read in Proverbs, “A net is spread in vain before the eyes of them that have wings” (Prov 1:17), Douay). For what has such a soul to fear from sensuality, since she has lost even the faculty of sensation? No longer conscious of material impressions, though remaining still the principle of life to the body, she is necessarily inaccessible to temptations from the senses. “Who will give me the wings of a dove and I will fly and be at rest?” (Ps. 55:6) Would to God that I could often endure a death of this kind and thus escape the snares of a more terrible death! So should I be insensible to the fatal allurements of luxury; so should I be unconscious of the stings of the flesh, of the suggestions of avarice, of the swellings of anger and impatience, of the torments of anxiety and the miseries of care. “Let my soul die the death of the just” (Num 23:10), so that deception may no longer have power to ensnare me nor sin to seduce! Happy death which destroys not life, but changes it to better! Happy death which lifts the soul to heaven without laying the body low!
Yet this manner of dying is peculiar to men. Therefore, “Let my soul die the death of the angels” also (if I may use the expression), so that escaping from the memory of all present things, she may strip herself, not alone of the desires, but even of the images of inferior and corporeal objects, and may converse spiritually with them whom she resembles in spirituality! The name contemplation, as it seems to me, belongs either solely or principally to such a mental ecstasy. It is the part of human virtue to live on earth unfettered by earthly desires; but to be able to contemplate truth without the help of material or sensible images is the characteristic of angelic purity. Yet each of these two is the gift of God. Each is a true ecstasy. In each the soul rises above herself, but in the second far higher than in the first. Blessed is the soul which can say in this sense, “Lo, I have gone far off, flying away; and I abode in the wilderness“! (Ps. 55:7) It is not enough for her that she is transported out of herself, unless she can fly far away and be at rest. Thou hast obtained such a victory over the temptations of the flesh that thou dost no longer gratify its concupiscence nor yield assent to its enticements. This certainly is progress. Thou hast truly gone forth from thyself. But thou hast not yet flown afar, unless, by the purity of thy mind, thou art able to rise above the images of sensible objects, which are constantly rushing in upon thee from every side. Until thou hast attained to this, do not promise thyself any rest. Thou art in error if thou thinkest that the place of repose, the quiet of solitude, the perfection of light, and the dwelling of peace can be found any nearer. But show me the man who has arrived at this point, and I shall unhesitatingly pronounce him to be at rest and qualified to say, “Turn, O my soul, into thy rest; for the Lord hath been bountiful to thee” (Ps. 116:7). Here truly is a home in solitude, and a dwelling in the light, and, according to the Prophet Isaias, “a tabernacle for a shade in the day-time from the heat, and a security and covert from the whirlwind and from the rain” (Is. 4:6). It is of the same the Psalmist sings, “For He hath hidden me in His tabernacle; in the day of evils He hath protected me in the secret place of His tabernacle” (Ps. 27:5).
It appears to me, therefore, that it is into this solitude the Spouse has retired, and there, overpowered by the beauty of the place, has sweetly fallen asleep in the arms of her Beloved. In other words, she has been visited by the slumber of spiritual rapture, and this is the sleep out of which the young maidens are forbidden to awaken her, until she herself pleases. … [JU: the remaining section considers the allegorical meaning of “the roes and the harts.”]
Source: St. Bernard, Sermons on the Song of Songs, Sermon 52. Translation: A priest of Mount Melleray. St Bernard’s Sermons on the Canticle of Canticles, 3 vols, Dublin, 1920; vol. 2, pp. 91−100.
Latin: Sermones in Cantica canticorum, Migne Patrologia Latina 183 785A−1198A, Paris, 1854.
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Bibliography
A priest of Mount Melleray. St Bernard’s Sermons on the Canticle of Canticles, 3 vols, Dublin, 1920. (Volume 1, Volume 2).
Eales, Samuel J. Saint Bernard: Cantica Canticorum, Eighty-six Sermons. London, 1895.
Leclercq, J.; Talbot, C. H., Rochais, H. M. (eds.). Sermones super Cantica canticorum, in Bernardi opera, volumes 1−2. Ed. Cistercienses, Rome, 1957−58. Latin critical edition.
Walsh, Killian; Edmonds, Irene (trs.). Bernard of Clairvaux: Sermons on the Song of Songs. 4 vols. CF (Cistercian Fathers Series) vols. 4, 7, 31, and 40. Spencer, MA: Cistercian Publications, 1971−80.
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Philo and the Liber Mundi
(Not Philo, but maybe he looked like this!)
LAST week I felt inspired to look at Philo’s On Dreams again. The Introduction in Colson & Whitaker’s translation didn’t turn up much of new interest, until I got to their summary of Philo’s interpretation of Jacob’s ladder dream.
Philo pays particular attention to Jacob’s statement, “this is a gate of heaven” (Gen. 28:17). Here Philo sees a reference to how the sensory world is a ‘gate’ to the Ideal world — every material thing being an image or shadow of a corresponding eternal Idea. To me it seems Philo isn’t making so much a technical metaphysical point as a practical, psychological and experiential one: in the proper frame of mine, we can ascend from material things to catch sight of Eternal Beauty, or of objects belonging to that realm.
There are obviously Platonic overtones here — implicit references to the ascent to God from contemplation of beautiful things in Symposium 201–212, parts of the Timaeus, and the ‘pure world’ myth of Phaedo 107c–115a. But in another sense it comes across (at least to me) as reminiscent of Neoplatonism — not just Plotinus, but of the characteristically Renaissance Neoplatonism idea that the world is a Book of God, a mirror or gateway into a corresponding universe of eternal, perfect Forms. One proceeds, say, from seeing an actual beautiful flower to somehow intuiting or contemplating a truth that the object not only instantiates, but one which the object is intended to convey to us for some didactic purpose.
IF that corresponds to Philo’s intentions it seems worth mentioning, because then it means that Philo is expressing this typically Neoplatonist idea two centuries before Plotinus.
Or perhaps I’m reading too much into the passage. This general subject has been on my mind lately as I’ve recently collected and placed online quotations from American Transcendentalists and others about the transcendent beauty and meaning of flowers, illustrated with my photos (Visit the new website Florigelium here).
Genesis 28
[10] And Jacob went out from Beer-sheba, and went toward Haran.
[11] And he lighted upon a certain place, and tarried there all night, because the sun was set; and he took of the stones of that place, and put them for his pillows, and lay down in that place to sleep.
[12] And he dreamed, and behold a ladder set up on the earth, and the top of it reached to heaven: and behold the angels of God ascending and descending on it.
[13] And, behold, the LORD stood above it, and said, I am the LORD God of Abraham thy father, and the God of Isaac: the land whereon thou liest, to thee will I give it, and to thy seed;?
[14] And thy seed shall be as the dust of the earth, and thou shalt spread abroad to the west, and to the east, and to the north, and to the south: and in thee and in thy seed shall all the families of the earth be blessed.
[15] And, behold, I am with thee, and will keep thee in all places whither thou goest, and will bring thee again into this land; for I will not leave thee, until I have done that which I have spoken to thee of.
[16] And Jacob awaked out of his sleep, and he said, Surely the LORD is in this place; and I knew it not.
[17] And he was afraid, and said, How dreadful is this place! this is none other but the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven.
Philo, On Dreams 1 (De Somniis 1)
XXXII. [184]
Rightly, therefore, was he afraid and said in an awestruck tone, “How dreadful is this place” (Gen. 28:17). For indeed most difficult of the “places” in the study of nature’s verities is that in which men inquire as to where, and whether at all in any thing the Existent Being is. Some say that everything that subsists occupies some space, and of these one allots to the Existent One this space, another that, whether inside the world or a space outside it in the interval between worlds. Others maintain that the Unoriginate resembles nothing among created things, but so completely transcends them, that even the swiftest understanding falls far short of apprehending Him and acknowledges its failure.[185]
Wherefore he straightway cried aloud “This is not” (ibid. 17); this that I supposed, “that the Lord is in some place” (ibid. 16), is not so; for according to the true reckoning He contains, but is not contained. But this that we can point out and see, this world discerned by sense, is, as I now know, nothing but a house of “God,” that is, of one of the Potencies of the Existent, that is, the Potency which expresses His goodness.[Note: Yonge translates this paragraph in a somewhat less difficult way as: “wherefore (Jacob) speedily cries out, This is not what I expected, because the Lord is in the place”; for he surrounds everything, but in truth and reason he is not surrounded by anything. And this thing which is demonstrated and visible, this world perceptible by the outward senses, is nothing else but the house of God, the abode of one of the powers of the true God, in accordance with which he is good;”]
[186]
The world which he named a “house,” he also described as “gate of” the real “heaven” (ibid. 17). Now what is this? The world which only intellect can perceive, framed from the eternal forms in Him [Note: Perhaps meaning the Logos] Who was appointed in accordance with Divine bounties, cannot be apprehended otherwise than by passing on to it from this world which we see and perceive by our senses.[187]
For neither indeed is it possible to get an idea of any other incorporeal thing among existences except by making material objects our starting-point. The conception of place was gained when they were at rest: that of time from their motion, and points and lines and superficies, in a word extremities from the robe-like exterior which covers them.[188]
Correspondingly, then, the conception of the intelligible world was gained from the one which our senses perceive: it is therefore a kind of gate into the former. For as those who desire to see our cities go in through gates, so all who wish to apprehend the unseen world are introduced to it by receiving the impression of the visible world. The world whose substance is discernible only by intellect apart from any sight whatever of shapes or figures, but only by means of the archetypal eternal form present in the world which was fashioned in accordance with the image beheld by him with no intervening shadow, — that world shall change its title, when all its walls and every gate has been removed and men may not catch sight of it from some outside point, but behold the unchanging beauty, as it actually is, and that sight no words can tell or express.
p.s. This passage connects with an earlier one in On Dreams about which I wrote previously.
Reference
Colson, F.H.; Whitaker, G. H. On Dreams. In: Philo in Ten Volumes, Vol. 5. Loeb Classical Library, Cambridge, MA, 1938.
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Philo’s Use of the Book of Psalms
Papyrus Fragment: LXX Psalm 88:4-8 (P.Duk.inv. 740), Duke University
AN EARLIER post suggested that Philo’s psychological method for interpreting the Pentateuch could be applied equally well to the Book of Psalms. Philo’s exegetical writings focus almost exclusively on the Pentateuch, citing each of its five books hundreds of times, and Genesis and Exodus more than the others. By comparison, he cites Psalms only about 25 times — although this is his next most common Old Testament source outside of the Pentateuch. A list of his references to verses from Psalms is appended to this article.
By examining how Philo himself uses Psalms, we can check our earlier hypothesis: when Philo cites verses from Psalms, does he find in them meanings consistent with his interpretations of Genesis, Exodus, and the other Pentateuch books? The answer is yes, and three representative examples are shown here.
1. Psalm 23:1. The LORD is my shepherd (Agricultura 50−54, Mutatione 105−120)
In his exegetical works, Philo twice refers to perhaps the most famous verse of Psalms, The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want. (Ps 23;1; herein we shall use the King James Version translation and numbering). These occur in On Agriculture (De Agricultura) 49−54 and On The Change of Names (De Mutatione Nominum) 103−120.
In the former, he begins by explicitly stating that we may interpret the verse psychologically. God is the good shepherd, and different parts of the soul (psyche) are what need shepherding. Reliance on God’s guidance puts all parts of the soul under a common leader, so that they may operate harmoniously and effectively. Otherwise it is compelled to heed many different leaders with conflicting aims.
The Universe itself, Philo tells us, relies on God as its shepherd. The guiding influence comes not from God directly, but through the agency of his firstborn Son, the Logos, who governs all as though a great King. If this is true of the entire Universe, then each soul should likewise utter the same cry, “The LORD is my shepherd.” As long as ones soul follows the guidance of the King, it is not only harmonized within itself but aligned with the universal plan of God’s goodness. By Providence all things will work to good for the soul and all needs are supplied — such that it may then add with confidence, “and nothing shall I want.”
Philo’s second mention of Psalm 23:1 — longer, and more complex psychologically — occurs in On the Change of Names (De mutatione) 103−120. The context — as the title of the book implies — concerns a change of names: Moses’ father-in-law is called in Exodus both Jethro and Raguel or Rauel. We first learn that he is a priest of the Midianites. By Philo’s etymology, ‘Midian’ refers to judgment. (Philo’s etymologies are often notoriously idiosyncratic, but this association seems reasonable, as “Midian” does suggest an association with the proto-Indo-European roots *medyo– [‘middle’] and *me– [measure].)
Jethro first sends his seven daughters to water his sheep at a communal well. At the well they are harassed by wicked shepherds. Moses arrives on the scene and opposes these other shepherds. Jethro’s daughters then water their flock. Jethro is pleased to see them return sooner than usual and wonders why. When they explain what happened, he invites Moses into the clan, where he becomes the head shepherd. At this point, Philo tells us, Jethro’s name becomes Raguel, which means “the shepherding of God,” because now the daughters have “discarded their kinship with vanity” and have “resolved to become a part of the holy herd which is led by God’s Word.” This leads Philo to mention Psalm 23:1.
As for the psychological meaning, the seven daughters, Philo tells us, symbolize seven elemental powers (dunameis) of the soul: the five senses (aisthesis), the “reproductive power” (gyne) and “voice” (phone) (Mutatione 111). As the meanings of the last two powers aren’t fully clear, let’s consider here the five ordinary senses. These are sent by Jethro, the governing or father part of the mind in its worldly orientation (104), to water their sheep. There they fill the “troughs of the soul” — perhaps what we would call the sensorium, or, alternatively, centralized conscious experience (111). However this is opposed by the wicked shepherds, who symbolize disordered passions, “comrades of envy and malice” (112).
Moses, a teacher/leader/prophet mental disposition or sub-ego (see earlier post for discussion of these terms), discerns the nature of these opposing forces and prevails over them. In this way he functions symbolically as did Phineas (108), who, when an Israelite man slept with a Midianite woman, slew them both (Numbers 25:1–9) with a lance or sword that symbolizes discernment (cf. Philo, Allegorical Interpretation 3.242). The sense/daughters may then water their sheep and return to their mind/father who is now in a reformed condition and guided by God. Similarly, when passions dominate our mind — when we cling to them, as it were — sensation becomes impure and corrupted. The mind is now distracted, consciousness is divided, and sensation partial, fragmentary and unclear. When Moses overcomes the bad shepherds, sensation is restored to purity and the mind to its natural integrity.
We can find a modern parallel in Abraham Maslow’s (1971) distinction between what he called D-mode (Deficiency) and B-mode (Being) cognition. Whereas D-mode sensation regards objects as means to egoistic goals, Being cognition enjoys sensations purely and for their own sake, as ends in themselves. It corresponds to the unitive state described by Christian and other religious mystics. One is in the world but not of it (118).
When the daughters return to their father with alacrity they explain that this is not due to themselves, but through the agency of the Moses, an Egyptian. Moses is an incredibly important archetypal figure in Philo’s writings. He is not only a leader/prophet, but a Hebrew raised as a prince of Egypt (that is, both a ‘seer of God,’ yet also with an interest in the world of sense):
For the senses are on the border-line between the intelligible realm and the sensible, and all that we can hope is that they should desire both realms and not be led by the latter only. To suppose that they will ever give their affections to the things of mind only would be the height of folly, and therefore they give both titles. By the word ‘man’ [Ex. 2:20] they point out the world which reason alone discerns, by ‘Egyptian’ they represent the world of sense. (Mutatione 118; tr. Colson & Whitaker)
Perceptual experience in the properly oriented mental condition (Raguel) is more light and subtle, and at the same time more vital, detailed and nuanced. One may, say, savor a single sip of wine instead of gulping down an entire cup whilst already imagining a second one. This mode of perception does not weigh down consciousness or disrupt or distract higher cognitive powers. In this more peaceful frame of mind, one may also receive subtle thoughts and impulses that originate from ones higher nature. (120) One is able to recognize, profit from and enjoy the multitude of providential gifts God supplies (116).
2. Psalm 46:4. There is a river (Somniis 2.246− 2.300)
There is a river, the streams whereof shall make glad the city of God, the holy place of the tabernacles of the most High.
Our second example is Philo’s use of Psalms 46:4, There is a river, the streams whereof shall make glad the city of God, the holy place of the tabernacles of the most High (KJV; LXX Ps. 45). He discuses this verse in On Dreams (De somniis) 2.246−254. The context is his analysis of Pharaoh’s dream of the seven fat and seven gaunt cattle (Gen. 4), which Joseph interpreted. In the dream, Pharaoh is standing by a river (And it came to pass at the end of two full years, that Pharaoh dreamed: and, behold, he stood by the river. Gen.41:1; KJV). Philo uses the opportunity to discuss the symbolic significance of rivers, contrasting two meanings, both allegorically understood to relate to the human soul and both being connected (though differently) with logos.
The first type of river is the constant flow of words or logoi of God, by which He providentially orders and directs all Creation, including the human soul. This is a very Stoic notion. For Philo, this activity is collectively directed by the Logos — understood as the Son or Chief Angel of God. This direction is manifest as discrete units, words or logoi. As they affect the human soul, Philo likens these to an irrigating river of Wisdom. In this discussion he alludes to the four rivers of Eden, a subject that figured prominently in his earlier work, Allegorical Interpretation 1.19.63−89. As we are told there, this separates into four rivers, corresponding to the four cardinal virtues, watering the Garden of Eden, which symbolizes the human mind filled with holy, virtuous and divine thoughts.
In contrast, a soul in the fallen condition is subject to a different kind of river: a flow or confused torrent of disruptive, distracting thoughts (logismoi). Philo sees an allegorical reference to this other river in Exodus 7:15 Behold, he is going forth to the river, and thou shalt stand in the way to meet him, on the bank of the River. This refers to that more famous Pharaoh with whom Moses contended in Exodus. There are, then, figuratively speaking, two rivers, and a principal ethical and spiritual task of ours is to orient our soul to the divine one. This is done by following Moses’ instruction to the Israelites, “Be still and hear” (σιώπα και άκουε; Deut. 27:9). This Philo understands to mean a state of pious humility and trust, leading to a quietude of mind and an ability to perceive God’s guidance.
Note also Philo’s likening the soul of the righteous person to a city of God. He is certainly aware of Plato’s city-soul analogy in the Republic, and makes frequent use of it in his works.
3. Psalm 31:18. Let lying lips be silenced (Confusione 21−40)
Let the lying lips be put to silence; which speak grievous things proudly and contemptuously against the righteous.
Philo mentions this verse in On the Confusion of Tongues (De Confusione). This work of Philo, which interprets the Tower of Babel story in Genesis, bears an especially strong connection with Psalms. The tower’s builders were punished by God by having their languages confused, which, understood psychologically, is the same as being scattered. Punishment of the wicked by scattering is mentioned in at least 10 different psalms.
Philo begins the discussion in On Confusion by noting that, while there are many evils in life capable of producing a painful and harmful upheaval of the psyche (wherein, among other things, it is easy prey to vice) the worst threat comes from evils produced from within the soul itself. He then reviews the familiar Platonic tripartite model of the psyche, with its appetitive, irascible and rational elements. Each of these is susceptible to its own mischiefs — both as it relates to itself and as it relates to the other elements. A breakdown of the rational element is the most dangerous, however, as this inevitably affects the integrity of the others. Philo likens the situation to a ship, where the steersman (rational nature), passengers (appetitive nature), and crew (irascible nature — the equivalent of Plato’s guardian class in the Republic) all cooperate in folly, leading to certain disaster. The mutiny may begin with the appetitive and irascible passions, which then seek to corrupt captain and steersman to effect their nefarious aims (cf. Plato’s ship analogy in Rep. 6.487–6.491a). Similarly, if physicians themselves become sick, it is much harder to control an epidemic.
Philo sees scriptural references to this negative alliance amongst mental powers in the story of the deluge, where the “cataracts” (plural) were opened, corresponding to a flooding torrent of multiple passions simultaneously. He also alludes to the confederation of heathen kings — enemies of Abraham — who met at the salt ravine (Gen. 14:3). And also the mob in Sodom who surrounded Lot’s house and threatened his guests (Gen. 19:4), allegorically understood as disordered passions “conspiring against the divine and holy Thoughts, who are often called angels” (Conf. 27f).
It is against such harmful thoughts that a distinctive leader/prophet mental disposition symbolized by Moses must stand to oppose. An analogy is drawn to Moses meeting Pharaoh at the edge (which, in Philo’s vernacular, is also called the “lips”) of a river (Ex. 7:15). Lips is an apt term, because the river is the flow of thoughts — which here are understood as mental speech or inner voices.
Moses stands by the river because he is stable, exemplifying the virtue of faith. The speech of the passions consists in part of sophistries which seek to justify or rationalize vicious behavior. These are reduced to silence by Moses, who demolishes them with clear reasoning. However in this work Moses cannot rely solely on his own power. Ultimately to defeat the sophistries of vice he needs the assistance of God. Therefore we must beseech God’s help, as in the psalmist’s words in this verse.
This is a particularly good example where Philo musters many verses from the Old Testament to support his argument. The allegorical meanings he gives these verses are not arbitrary or implausible. Rather, they rely on a consistent ethical and psychological model that combines Platonic psychology, Stoic ethics and Jewish piety before a personal God.
Conclusion
These examples demonstrate that Philo used the same hermeneutical approach to interpreting Psalms that he used for Genesis, Exodus, and the other books of the Pentateuch.
As noted in the previous article (Uebersax 2021), his model is consistent and representative of the perennial ascetical-mystical philosophy, Platonist/Stoic ethics, and certain modern theories of personality psychology. This is not a conclusion of mere academic interest. Rather, it has practical value in that it means we may ourselves continue and extend Philo’s exegetical work: we may apply the principles Philo demonstrates in his masterful interpretations of Genesis and Exodus, with no modification, to understand the Book of Psalms.
We should also note that Philo did not merely see Psalms as a text to be critically interpreted. As a devout, practicing Jew of Alexandria, he would have prayed and sang psalms regularly. Therefore his critical analysis would have been supported by an experiential understanding. We should always bear in mind that Philo was not only a philosopher, but a self-avowed mystic. He tells us, for example, that he has many times:
suddenly become full, the ideas falling in a shower from above and being sown invisibly, so that under the influence of the Divine possession I have been filled with corybantic frenzy and been unconscious of anything, place, persons present, myself, words spoken, lines written. For I obtained language, ideas, an enjoyment of light, keenest vision, pellucid distinctness of objects, such as might be received through the eyes as the result of clearest shewing. (Migratione 35)
Similarly, in Special Laws 3:1−6 he describes gaining spiritual wings and being “wafted by the breezes of knowledge.”
It must be emphasized that we are not discussing Philo as a sterile exercise in the history of religion. It is assumed, rather, that the ability to experience transcendent states of consciousness is something real and vitally important for us as human beings. Scriptures like the Book of Psalms are a repository of the spiritual wisdom of our ancestors from which we may draw. Philo himself gives us an example of how to make use of this wisdom: by an integrated approach that involves attentive reading, exegesis, intuition, and personal practice.
Update: Some time after writing this I learned of an article by David Runia, Philo’s Reading of the Psalms. It is difficult to find, but an abstract is here. Runia agrees that Philo uses the same exegetical method for Psalms as he does for the Pentateuch. He also suggests that Philo does not take advantage of the full spiritual potential of Psalms, perhaps because his thorough exegesis of the Pentateuch makes it unnecessary.
At the same time I found an article by Maren Niehoff, Paul and Philo on the Psalms. Interestingly, Niehoff suggests that “Philo uses the Psalms as a spiritual key to Genesis” (p. 401).
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References
Cohen, Naomi G. Philo’s Scriptures: Citations from the Prophets and Writings. Brill, 2007.
Colson F. H.; Whitaker, G. H.; Marcus Ralph (eds.). The Works of Philo. 12 vols. Loeb Classical Library. Harvard University Press, 1929−1953.
Maslow, Abraham H. The farther reaches of human nature. New York: Arkana, 1993 (first published Viking, 1971).
Niehoff, Maren R. Paul and Philo on the Psalms: Towards a Spiritual Notion of Scripture. Novum Testamentum 62.4, 2020, 392−415.
Runia, David T. Philo’s Reading of the Psalms. Studia Philonica Annual 13, 2001, 102–121.
Uebersax, John. On the psychological and sapiential meaning of the Book of Psalms. Christian Platonism website. 12 Dec 2021.
Uebersax, John. Psychological Allegorical Interpretation of the Bible. Camino Real, 2012.
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Appendix. Philo’s Quotations From Psalms
Psa 23:1
[1] The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.
Agricultura 50−54
Mutatione 115
Psa 27:1
[1] The LORD is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? the LORD is the strength of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?
Somniis 1.75
Psa 31:18
[18] Let the lying lips be put to silence; which speak grievous things proudly and contemptuously against the righteous.
Confusione 39
Psa 37:4
[4] Delight thyself also in the LORD; and he shall give thee the desires of thine heart.
Plantatione 39
Somniis 2.242
Psa 42:3
[3] My tears have been my meat day and night, while they continually say unto me, Where is thy God?
Migratione 157
Psa 46:4
[4] There is a river, the streams whereof shall make glad the city of God, the holy place of the tabernacles of the most High.
Somniis 2.246−254
Psa 62:11
[11] God hath spoken once; twice have I heard this; that power belongeth unto God.
Quod Deus 82
Psa 65:9
[9] Thou visitest the earth, and waterest it: thou greatly enrichest it with the river of God, which is full of water: thou preparest them corn, when thou hast so provided for it.
Somniis 2.245
See Psa 46:4 above.
Psa 69:33
[33] For the LORD heareth the poor, and despiseth not his prisoners.
Questions and Answers on Genesis 4.147
Psa 75:8
[8] For in the hand of the LORD there is a cup, and the wine is red; it is full of mixture; and he poureth out of the same: but the dregs thereof, all the wicked of the earth shall wring them out, and drink them.
Quod Deus 77−82
Psa 78:49
[49] He cast upon them the fierceness of his anger, wrath, and indignation, and trouble, by sending evil angels among them.
Gigantibus 16f
Psa 80:5
[5] Thou feedest them with the bread of tears; and givest them tears to drink in great measure.
Migratione 157
See Psa 42:3 above.
Psa 80:6
[6] Thou makest us a strife unto our neighbours: and our enemies laugh among themselves.
Confusione 52−54
Psa 84:10
[10] For a day in thy courts is better than a thousand. I had rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God, than to dwell in the tents of wickedness.
Quis heres 290
Psa 87:3
[3] Glorious things are spoken of thee, O city of God. Selah.
Confusione 108
See Psa 46:4 above.
Psa 91:11−12
[11] For he shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways.
[12] They shall bear thee up in their hands, lest thou dash thy foot against a stone.
Quod Deus 182
Psa 94:9
[9] He that planted the ear, shall he not hear? he that formed the eye, shall he not see?
Plantatione 29
Psa 101:1
[1] I will sing of mercy and judgment: unto thee, O LORD, will I sing.
Quod Deus 74−76
Psa 115:5−8
[5] They have mouths, but they speak not: eyes have they, but they see not:
[6] They have ears, but they hear not: noses have they, but they smell not:
[7] They have hands, but they handle not: feet have they, but they walk not: neither speak they through their throat.
[8] They that make them are like unto them; so is every one that trusteth in them.
Decalogo 74
Psa 115:8
[8] They that make them are like unto them; so is every one that trusteth in them.
Specialibus legibus 2.255
Psa 115:17
[17] The dead praise not the LORD, neither any that go down into silence.
Fuga 59
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Psalm 45. The Mystical Marriage
Monastery of St. John the Baptist, Megara
PSALM 45 (Ps. 44 LXX) is another hidden gem. The Book of Psalms is a magnificent work — even by itself one of the greatest treatises on spiritual life we possess. The weakening of spiritual life in the West today is proportional to the loss in fervor with which people study and pray Psalms, which in previous centuries was a mainstay of Christian spiritual life. It’s not enough to read or hear isolated verses of Psalms during masses and liturgies. A thorough, attentive, and repeated reading of the whole work is needed. Only then may one recognize it as an organic unity with an express aim. That aim is to help effect a transformation of soul. Psalms not only give us a conceptual framework for understanding that process of transformation, but, insofar as we pray individual psalms (or perhaps sing them) devoutly and meditate on their meanings, it becomes a means of effecting that transformation.
The subject is a marriage involving the soul. The resemblance to the Song of Songs is evident and striking. It would be interesting to know which was written earlier: does the first epitomize the second, or the second expand the first?
To begin there is one verse of introduction, a masterpiece of economy and eloquence, and immediately rivets our attention on what is to follow:
[1] My heart is inditing a good matter: I speak of the things which I have made touching the king: my tongue is the pen of a ready writer.
There is no doubt — on this virtually all commentators agree — but that this psalm does not describe any historical event, but its meaning is found in symbolism and allegorical interpretation. There are two principal figures in the psalm: the King, and the Bride.
The King
[2] Thou art fairer than the children of men: grace is poured into thy lips: therefore God hath blessed thee for ever.
[3] Gird thy sword upon thy thigh, O most mighty, with thy glory and thy majesty.
[4] And in thy majesty ride prosperously because of truth and meekness and righteousness; and thy right hand shall teach thee terrible things.
[5] Thine arrows are sharp in the heart of the king’s enemies; whereby the people fall under thee.
[6] Thy throne, O God, is for ever and ever: the sceptre of thy kingdom is a right sceptre.
[7] Thou lovest righteousness, and hatest wickedness: therefore God, thy God, hath anointed thee with the oil of gladness above thy fellows.
[8] All thy garments smell of myrrh, and aloes, and cassia, out of the ivory palaces, whereby they have made thee glad.
The King here is almost universally understood to signify Christ. However, it’s also possible to understand the figure as symbolic of an Inner Christ within the soul. These two interpretations are not mutually exclusive, but to supply a satisfactory discussion of the relationship of Christ to the Inner Christ (however valuable that might be) is beyond the present scope. We may observe, though, that such a parallel is implied by the important Christian doctrine of theosis (becoming like God). Most unfortunate it is that this doctrine receives so little attention today outside the Orthodox Churches. We come to see, know and love God only to the degree that we become like Him. Our spiritual life is one of gradual coming to be like God, as we proceed from glory to glory. (2 Cor.3:18)
Of what, then, does the beauty of the King consist? We are told that He has the qualities of truth, meekness and righteousness. As we read and reflect on the psalm, we rediscover a great truth of our own soul: that we find this figure of supreme righteousness innately and irresistibly attractive. We cannot help but love deeply and intensely these divine virtues, because these also constitute the deepest nature of our own soul. We love in others what we treasure — sometimes without realizing it — in ourselves. Reading these verses and calling to our imagination a vision of this King, we are confronted with a great truth of our own soul: we love Righteousness and Moral Beauty — and far more so than anything related to the material world. This realization jolts us into a proper remembrance of our true nature.
Yet the King is not only great in moral beauty, but also awesome and sublime in a sense that is, we might say, terrifying. The very perfection of truth and righteousness which we admire in the King makes falsehood and wickedness perfectly unacceptable to Him. Hence He is also portrayed as taking an aggressive stance against evil. This creates a psychological paradox for us — one that, in a sense, is the same paradox inherent in that potent expression, fear of the LORD. The same pure King of Righteousness, whose beauty we find so irresistibly attractive, is also a source in like degree of great apprehensiveness. For we do not believe we are pure and holy. Even the best of us harbors a deep awareness of our carnal nature and selfish tendencies. As we are drawn toward the beautiful King, we recoil, as though feeling as St. Peter did when he said, Depart from me; for I am a sinful man, O Lord. (Luke 5:8)
Therefore, while Christ, loving and patient, continually beckons us forward, saying, “Fear not! Come into your Father’s house, to the place that has been prepared for you,” we are divided. We wish both to proceed and to draw back, lest, coming into the presence of the Father, our sinful side will be seen and incur rejection and wrath.
This is an elemental conflict which must be resolved within the psyche of the devoted reader. The harder task, perhaps, is not so much the elimination of all sin, but to accept that God loves us completely despite our sins. This is a matter of great import. For insofar as guilt and shame dominates our mind, we will seek to by our own efforts to conquer sin — the polar opposite of what we need. But if we focus our attention on God’s generosity, understanding and love, we will see that it is by grace we are saved. So far from human understanding is this great truth!
The Bride
[9] Kings’ daughters were among thy honourable women: upon thy right hand did stand the queen in gold of Ophir.
[10] Hearken, O daughter, and consider, and incline thine ear; forget also thine own people, and thy father’s house;
[11] So shall the king greatly desire thy beauty: for he is thy Lord; and worship thou him.
[12] And the daughter of Tyre shall be there with a gift; even the rich among the people shall intreat thy favour.
[13] The king’s daughter is all glorious within: her clothing is of wrought gold.
[14] She shall be brought unto the king in raiment of needlework: the virgins her companions that follow her shall be brought unto thee.
[15] With gladness and rejoicing shall they be brought: they shall enter into the king’s palace.
[16] Instead of thy fathers shall be thy children, whom thou mayest make princes in all the earth.
[17] I will make thy name to be remembered in all generations: therefore shall the people praise thee for ever and ever.
The bride here has traditionally been given three alternative meanings: (1) the Church, (2) the soul, and (3) the Blessed Virgin Mary. Examples of all three interpretations can be found throughout ancient and medieval commentaries on the Song of Songs. The meanings overlap and are interact, so we need not worry overmuch about making an exact distinction among them. The Church, after all, is a collection of individual souls, and what applies to one, generally applies to the other. Similarly, the Blessed Virgin is frequently taken as a kind of ideal for the individual soul. This not withstanding, our focus of attention here is on the bride as an individual soul.
Why is the soul symbolized as a female figure, as it would seem to transcend distinctions of gender. Apparently what is symbolized is not the entire soul, but that part of it that is connected with such things as feeling, sensation, emotion and desiring. This affective soul (anima) would be the counterpart of another part of our soul, the intellective (animus). In that case, we might possibly interpret the King as a symbol of the animus, to which the anima soul is being united in some new and fundamentally improved way. Such an inner marriage has many archetypal counterparts in mythology (e.g., Martinus Capella’s Marriage of Philology and Mercury and Apuleius’ Marriage of Eros and Psyche), and some alchemical literature. A Jungian would see this as a representation of a conjiunctio or marriage of the conscious and unconscious psyche.
It is not correct for Christians to summarily and completely dismiss secular psychological or esoteric writers merely because they depart from orthodox Christianity. Even if they are merely half-right, we must pay attention to the half that is right. Just as St. Augustine in On Christian Doctrine reminds us to read Scripture charitably, so as to not miss important meanings, so the principle of charity applies to reading secular works and writings from other spiritual traditions.
That said, the orthodox Christian (or, for that matter Jewish) and the Jungian view produce two complementary psychological interpretations of the marriage. The former sees the mystical marriage as an ascent of human consciousness to God. The latter sees it as an integration of psychic functions that produce an intensification and revitalization of waking consciousness in and of this world — that is, attainment of what Abraham Maslow called Being-experience. Elsewhere I have suggested that Plato’s philosophy, as shown particularly in his myths, can be understood as helping to attain both: mystical ascent and Being-experience. These two meanings are not mutually exclusive, and there is much in the Gospel to suggest it is as much concerned with the latter as the former. The telos of Christian ethics must be complete and integral if it is to be satisfying and compelling.
To return to the psalm, the Queen has female attendants, which may symbolize particular powers or faculties of the soul. For example, they could mean the senses, or perhaps higher-level creative powers such as are symbolized in Greek myth by the Muses. Her garment of finest gold and its fine embroidery suggest a radiant and beautiful assortment of virtues.
The bride is told to leave her father’s land. Many commentators plausibly suggest that this refers to the soul leaving its natural homeland of attachment to sensory and worldly goods, and fixing its affection on spiritual things. (See excerpt from St. Ambrose below.)
In verse 11 we see that it is precisely because the soul rejects the worldly and turns to heavenly things that the King finds her beautiful. This is a key point, and a magnificent one. It addresses and solves the aforementioned paradox. Despite our fears and misgivings about being acceptable to God, we here are taught that we already possess, at least in potential, something that God treasures dearly. Our soul becomes not just good, but supremely beautiful — possessing the very kind of moral beauty that the King prizes — by making the moral choice to turn from flesh to spirit. We need not recoil from God due to an our awareness of sinfulness, for God has endowed us with a nature He finds supremely beautiful. We must constantly redirect our attention to that fact.
Attending the wedding as a guest is another female figure, the Queen of Tyre. Tyre is a Philistine (i.e., heathen) city — so this figure may indicate some ruling power or sub-personality (for clarification of these terms see my previous post on Philonic interpretation) concerned with worldly things. Significantly, this woman bears a gift. What that gift is we are not told, and it is up to us to learn experientially. It might involve the ability to enjoy sensory goods and pleasures to a far greater degree than we could before. That is, if we are attached to the senses, we cannot really enjoy their offerings, because we are divided: we are simultaneous aware of defection, of giving our allegiance to the wrong place, which degrades the integrity of consciousness and diminishes enjoyment. But if our allegiance remains in heaven, then we my touch the world of sense delicately, savoring it as we would the delicate scent of a rose, rather than dulling our senses with cheap perfume.
Princely offspring of the bride are also promised. Perhaps these would be intellectual activities, projects, and works initiated by the redeemed, reformed and divinized mind.
Conclusion
These are some possible interpretations. They are only tentative, approximate and suggestive — hints, hopefully to that fuller understanding attainable only by devout reading and meditation.
As said before, there is an important performative dimension to interpreting the psalms. Understanding comes more from praying than analyzing them. This is true generally of biblical exegesis, and perhaps especially the Wisdom Books. There is a self-referential or circular quality: by spiritual mindedness we understand the deeper meanings, and a main purpose of the Bible is to help us gain spiritual mindedness. Norris puts this well:
“[Gregory of Nyssa] says not only that the Song in some fashion narrates an exemplary soul’s progress in knowledge and love of God but also that readers of the Song may themselves, through their comprehension of it, be brought along as actual participants in the same progress. The text of the Song has a kind of symbolic or sacramental character, then, in that to understand it fully is to be involved with the reality it speaks of.” (p. xlv).
Similarly, Origen, in his Commentary on the Song of Songs, interprets the words behold, thou art fair; thou hast doves’ eyes (Song 1.15) to mean that the eyes of the exegete are illumined by the Holy Spirit and enabled to see spiritual meanings of Scripture. (Origen Comm. Cant. 3.1)
Thus it is not the purpose here or in other articles to replace the effort of each reader with formulaic interpretations.
Let us, then, simply close with a passage from St. Ambrose’s commentary on the Song (found in his work On Isaac, or the Soul) I encountered in preparing this article which seems very relevant:
(8.78) Let us then take up these wings, since like flames they aim for the higher regions. Let each man divest his soul of her baser coverings and approve her when she is cleansed of the mire just as he would approve gold cleansed by fire. For the soul is cleansed just like the finest gold. Moreover the beauty of the soul, her pure virtue and attractiveness, is her truer knowledge of the things that are above, so that she sees the good on which all things depend, but which itself depends on none. There she lives and receives her understanding. For that supreme good is the fountain of life; love and longing for it are enkindled in us, and it is our desire to approach and be joined to it, for it is desirable to him who does not see it and is present to him who sees it, and therefore he disregards all other things and takes pleasure and delight in this one only. …
Let us flee therefore to our real, true fatherland [cf. Plotinus, Enneads 1.6.5]. There is our fatherland and there is our Father, by whom we have been created, where there is the city of Jerusalem, which is the mother of all men. (8.79) … Let us flee with the spirit and the eyes and feet that are within. Let us accustom our eyes to see what is bright and clear, to look upon the face of continence and of moderation, and upon all the virtues, in which there is nothing scabrous, nothing obscure or involved. And let each one look upon himself and his own conscience; let him cleanse that inner eye, so that it may contain no dirt. For what is seen ought not to be at variance with him who sees, because God has wished that we be conformed to the image of His Son. … This is the eye that looks upon the true and great beauty. Only the strong and healthy eye can see the sun; only the good soul can see the good. Therefore let him become good who wishes to see the Lord and the nature of the good.
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References
Astell, Ann W. The Song of Songs in the Middle Ages. Cornell University Press, 1990.
McHugh, Michael P. (tr.). Saint Ambrose: Isaac, or the Soul (De Isaac vel anima). In: Michael P. McHugh (ed.), Saint Ambrose: Seven Exegetical Works, Fathers of the Church 65, CUA Press, 1972 (repr. 2010); pp. 9−65.
Lawson, R. P. (tr.). Origen: The Song of Songs Commentary and Homilies. Ancient Christian Writers 26. Newman Press, 1957.
Norris Jr., Richard A. (tr.). Gregory of Nyssa: Homilies on the Song of Songs. Society of Biblical Literature, 2012.
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On the Psychological and Sapiential Meaning of the Book of Psalms
Illuminated manuscript, 14th century. King David. Oxford Bodleian Library,
Preface: A Word for the Wise
THE BOOK OF PSALMS is a great treasure, a source of immense consolation and inspiration and one of the greatest religious scriptures humanity possesses. Few people make a sufficient effort to penetrate the depth of its meanings. My aim here is not to attempt to explain all the meanings — psychological and spiritual — of Psalms. Rather I would be content if this short work motivates a few people to read Psalms more attentively and devoutly. Therefore the more brief the exposition, the better. Only a word to the wise — those who already hunger and thirst for inner righteousness — is sufficient. A more elaborate treatment would not benefit such readers, for ultimately they must learn by their own work and engagement with the work. Neither would it persuade those others not already motivated and ready to commence such study. A brief treatment, moreover, duly acknowledges the limitations of my own powers.
Those who have read anything I’ve written will probably know that my orientation is in line with Roman Catholicism and Orthodox Christianity. On the other hand, I also have the perspective of a (1) contemporary psychologist with (2) a strong appreciation of ancient philosophy. I mention these things only to reassure prospective readers they need not fear being exposed to ‘heretical’, vague esoteric, or merely idiosyncratic notions on the one hand, or dogmatic Christian moralizing, on the other. Everything presented here is given in the spirit of plausible conjecture — possibilities which readers may experimentally confirm or disconfirm based on their own experience.
The discussion here has three sections. First, an introduction, including a list of guiding premises, will be presented. Second, the key themes of Psalms will be identified. Third, these themes will be explained in comments on particular psalms and verses. To try to explain every line in every psalm would be a mistake, I believe. The point is to equip each reader with sufficient skills to productively make their own interpretations: in learning from Scripture, the seeking and the finding often coincide.
If the writing below seems in places more like an outline than polished prose, that is by design. Reading a single psalm is more valuable than any commentary, and there is no reason to delay readers from this pursuit by unnecessary prolixity here. It is not expected that everything said here is correct. It is only hoped that some parts are.
Introduction
Premises
Our main premises are as follows: (1) the Book of Psalms is a unified work that carries deep meanings of both a spiritual and psychological nature; (2) it can be understood as conveying in a concise and comprehensive form what has been called the perennial philosophy, and (3) as a means to unlock psychological and sapiential meanings of Psalms we may do well to follow the exegetical methods of the Jewish Platonist philosopher, Philo of Alexandria. Although Philo mentioned Psalms infrequently (Note 1), he produced many commentaries on the Old Testament books of Genesis and Exodus, and there is scarcely any theme in Psalms that is not also found in these earlier books. As we shall see, the system of Philo is well supported by modern psychology, including Carl Jung’s archetypal psychology, ego/sub-ego theory, and contemporary Stoic cognitive psychology. However we emphasize that our interest here is not Philo, but the Book of Psalms. In a sense, Philo serves mainly as a particularly clear and eminent example of the tradition of Greek (or Alexandrian) allegorical interpretation of the sapiential meanings of myth and scripture.
The Perennial Philosophy
Psalms is one of the Wisdom Books of the Old Testament. This designation acknowledges a common purpose with the other Wisdom Books, including Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, Wisdom of Solomon, Sirach, Canticle and Job. The subject is a transformation of consciousness, moral renewal, and the attainment of ‘wisdom.’ By wisdom here we mean neither abstract metaphysical truths nor practical wisdom (phronesis), but rather moral truths of the human soul, ones that may be directly experienced. Wisdom in this sense might be understood as a distinct state (or set of related states) of consciousness.
Psalms expresses in a very complete and useful form what has been termed the perennial philosophy. The perennial philosophy is a system of principles and practices, at the intersection of religion, philosophy, and moral psychology, that supply a blueprint for self-realization. As human nature is basically constant throughout history and across cultures, and as the obstacles to self-realization are similarly constant, we should expect that similar means of removing psychological obstacles and for achieving self-realization develop across time and place.
The term perennial philosophy has an long history. It goes at least as far back as the Renaissance (e.g., Marsilio Ficino and Pico della Mirandola). Later proponents include such figures as Agostino Steuco, Leibniz and, more recently, Aldous Huxley (1947). As we understand it here, the perennial philosophy is roughly synonymous with ascetico-mysticism. In the ascetical or negative aspect, this entails a moderation of passions (thus harmonizing them), elimination of moral error (wrong judgment and bad action), and control of thoughts. This produces a mental condition of undisturbedness (ataraxia) and dispassion (apatheia) — or, more accurately, properly measured or ordered passions (metropatheai).
In the mystical or positive aspect, mental calmness and harmony allow one to be more attentive to subtle, transcendental and spiritual thoughts, judgments and impulses. The fruits of this include correct reasoning, spiritual senses, holiness and divinization (becoming godlike). At the same time, a purification and moral re-alignment of the psyche allows one to experience material existence with greater vitality, meaning and purpose; one may experience the world as transfigured.
In discussing the perennial philosophy, some mistakenly place undue emphasis on the attainment of a momentous and ultimate mystical experience of Cosmic Consciousness. However, especially since this is an experience enjoyed only by very few, the more relevant goal is to (1) be divine while (2) living in the world. That is, to experience oneself and the world — however briefly, for it can never be a permanent state in this life — as an incarnate divine being. In addition, psychological salvation in this life, meanwhile, prepares us for a better afterlife.
A useful framework for understanding the perennial philosophy is the traditional three-fold distinction between stages of (1) purification, (2) illumination and (3) unification (Underhill, 1927). The last itself has three components: unification within ourselves, with God, and with the world (including other human beings.) These, it should be added, are not fixed stages that one finishes completely before moving to the next. Rather one moves between them constantly throughout ones life.
The greatest obstacles to self-realization are (1) our ego, and (2) our immature, selfish emotional and acquisitive tendencies. Our journey — a natural developmental process, biologically, psychologically, and spiritually — is one from what is traditionally called carnal (or worldly) mindedness (an orientation towards acquisition of material and sensory goods) to spiritual mindedness and transcendence (orientation towards spiritual and eternal goods, and, ultimately to God). This is not only a traditional religious and philosophical concept, but is also present in modern psychological theories of moral development (e.g., Kohlberg). It is a natural progression from infantile narcissism to a transcendent personality structure.
Self-realization is incompatible with the myriad forms of psychological dysfunction and disordering of thought we experience on a daily basis. Therefore the purification or ascetical component of the perennial philosophy should be of interest to secular psychologists as well as those with religious sensibilities.
Part of the telos or desired end state of the perennial philosophy is a life in harmony with Nature (understood in the broadest sense to include both physical and metaphysical realities). This condition is more or less synonymous as a life in accord with Truth, the Way, the TAO, Torah, etc.
To live in this way, one must remain constantly receptive to higher inspirations and guidances. This, I propose, is the true meaning of what the Bible calls following or heeding God’s guidances, judgments, directions, commands, etc. By this view, we should seek not so much to be ‘obedient’ to God’s commandments in the sense of following fixed, written dictates; but rather to remain constantly and spontaneously attentive and receptive to subtle higher promptings The former is, as St. Paul explains in his letter to the Romans, the ‘law which killeth’; the latter is the way of the Spirit which giveth life.
The concept of a core perennial philosophy still allows for variation in its expression as well as its gradual refinement and evolution over time. The Bible is a good complement to Platonism, because it better emphasizes the central importance of ones loving relationship with a personal God, and a God who actively reaches out by grace and Providence to assist with our psychological and spiritual salvation.
Here our main concern is in those parts of the perennial philosophy that may concern both secular psychologists and ‘religionists.’ The perennial philosophy is concerned with the attainment of immortality or a propitious afterlife, as well as with flourishing in this one. We by no means disregard the former concern, but propose that in order to achieve it, then the former — a good, wise and virtuous present life — is a necessary stepping stone. Therefore by focusing here on how Psalms relates to the more psychological component of the perennial philosophy, it is hoped to be relevant to the greatest number of readers.
Philo of Alexandria
Philo (c. 25 BC − c. 50 AD) was a prominent member of the Jewish community of Alexandria and a Platonist philosopher. He wrote numerous books explaining the Old Testament — chiefly the five books of the Pentateuch. Though he wrote with different purposes for several audiences, his best known works today contain a detailed allegorical interpretation of Genesis and Exodus. These apply the philosophical principles of Platonic, Stoic and Pythagorean philosophy to the stories in these Old Testament Books. Philo’s brilliant allegorical interpretations remain unsurpassed. His work was largely ignored by later Jewish exegetes, who gravitated instead towards the style of Midrash. However Christian Platonists, including Clement of Alexandria and Origen, adopted his method. Later Christians strongly influenced by Philonic interpretation include Basil the Great, Gregory of Nyssa and Maximus Confessor (in Eastern Christianity) and Ambrose of Milan, Jerome, and Augustine of Hippo in the Latin tradition. In the Middle Ages, allegorical interpretation based largely on methods pioneered by Philo became a fixture in the Latin and Byzantine traditions of Bible exegesis. Ironically, then, Philo, a Jewish Platonist, might well be considered the father of Christian allegorical interpretation of the Bible.
Reasons we may expect success by taking Philo as a guide to the psychological and sapiential meaning of Psalms, include the following:
- Philo wrote two millennia ago. While modern society is more advanced technologically, the most valuable religious and philosophical ideas we possess originate from antiquity. If the ancients were sophisticated enough to write the Iliad, Odyssey and the Old Testament, we should be similarly respectful of the skill and depth of insight of ancient allegorical commentators like Philo.
- Moreover, Philo, writing in the rich, varied, and cosmopolitan milieu of Alexandria, was able to draw from the best of several more ancient traditions, including not only Judaism, but many Greek philosophers, as well as potentially from elements of Egyptian religion.
- Philo was heir to the Stoic method of interpreting Greek myths as philosophical allegories. Heraclitus the Allegorist — whose Homeric Allegories (Russell & Konstan, 2005) is especially noteworthy in this regard — wrote a little after Philo’s time, and applies methods that had been in development for some time. The Greek-influenced Roman poet, Virgil, writing around the time of Philo’s birth, not only incorporated philosophical themes into his mythic epic, the Aeneid, but quite possibly did this consciously and intentionally. Philo was, arguably, personally not too far removed from the Jewish Wisdom tradition of the Bible, himself having once been considered the author of the Wisdom of Solomon. Thus with Philo we arguably have the tradition interpreting itself.
Philonic Interpretation
A brief explanation of Philo’s system of interpretation and its connections with modern personality theory is found in Uebersax (2012). The main features relevant to our present task may be summarized as follows:
1. Personification
Philo’s main tool for allegorical interpretation is personification: each person in the Old Testament is understood to correspond to some structure or operation of the psyche. A generic term for these psychological correspondents is mental dispositions, but this word is not very informative. We may understand these psychological correspondents in a more technical sense as what modern writers have called subpersonalities (e.g., Rowan, 1999) or sub- or part-egos (Sorokin, 1956; cf. Uebersax 2014). According to this view, human personality can be understood as a configuration of interacting, smaller components: in an important sense, our mind operates somewhat not as a single self, but as a community of sub-selves. At a biological level, each sub-self can be understood as a complex, with both cognitive and emotional aspects.
Subegos or subpersonalities are evidently very numerous (for example, we have, in theory, a separate one associated with every social role, personal interest, ambition, attachment, and biological instinct). In addition, we tend to create in the psyche internalized versions of other people — actual people we’ve known, and even historical and fictional ones. So, as unsettling as the notion may seem at first, we have within our minds countless numbers of sub-egos of various levels of complexity.
It is not necessary, however, to reify or take too literally this theory. Our present discussion applies if we merely allow that our minds operate “something like this” — that is, as if we were congeries of competing subpersonalities. [Note 2]
2. Hierarchical organization
These sub-egos or subpersonalities are of different orders of complexity. For example, we may have individual sub-egos associated with particular foods we like to eat, and also one for the eating and enjoyment of food in general. In Philo’s system, Old Testament references to tribes and rulers correspond to smaller sub-egos and higher-level, ruling ones, respectively.
3. Internal conflict
Having so many components of the psyche, each with its individual interests and aims, naturally sets the stage for inner conflict. For Philo, of primary concern is the conflict between, on the one hand, our virtuous and holy parts, and, on the other, our vicious and impious ones. Here Philo reflects not only his Jewish roots, but his grounding in Platonic, Pythagorean and Stoic philosophy, which all have a somewhat dualistic model of human nature. In keeping with the Platonic and Pythagorean view, our virtuous nature is concerned with eternal things, and our lower nature focused on material and world things.
For Philo, this fundamental conflict in human nature is represented repeatedly by contrasting pairs of figures: Cain vs. Abel, Jacob vs. Esau, Joseph vs. his brothers, Moses vs. Pharaoh, the Israelites vs. their enemies, etc.
Similarly, in Greek myths this fundamental inner war (psychomachia) is symbolized by, for example, the conflicts of the Olympians vs. the Titans, and, in the Iliad, the Greeks vs. the Trojans. The same symbolic trope is expressed in a very elaborate and psychologically complex form in the great Indian epic, the Mahabharata (see Uebersax, 2021).
We should note that, although in an actual war the goal may be to completely destroy an enemy, that seems less feasible in the case of internal ‘war.’ Even though they may seem to oppose virtuous tendencies, worldly concerns are part of us, and they tend to have some foundation in instinct and biology. Hence a more productive goal may be to seek harmonization or subordination of our lower nature to the higher. In effect, rather than raze the heathen cities of our soul, we may wish to make them client states.
A simple way to sum up the preceding is this: that within each person’s psyche there are inner correspondents to all the main figures of the Old Testament. We have an inner Adam and Eve, and inner Cain and Abel, an inner Noah, Abraham, Jacob, and Moses, inner Israelites and Egyptians, etc. But the Bible is doing more than reminding us that these inner characteristics exist. It uses this figurative language to explain how we can achieve a more happy, harmonious and productive inner organization.
4. Ethics
Philo adheres closely to the virtue ethics that run consistently — whether implicitly as in Hesiod’s myths, or explicitly as in Platonism and Stoicism — throughout Greek philosophy. According to this view, the common or unredeemed condition of the human mind is fallen. We see this view graphically expressed as Plato’s cave (Republic 7.514a–521d). The fallen condition affects both the intelligence and the will. Until we are redeemed, our minds are habitually sunk in folly, delusion and chronic negative thinking, and we are unhappy, unproductive and unfulfilled.
In the three books of his Allegorical Interpretation, Philo uses the story of Adam and Eve in the Garden to supply an insightful and detailed analysis of the cognitive psychology of the fall of the psyche.
While this fallen state is our usual condition, it is not our natural one: we are intended and designed for a better and higher psychological life — to which it is the task of true philosophy and religion to restore us. For Philo, the process of return and redemption basically follows the already mentioned three stages of ascetico-mysticism: moral purification (ascesis), illumination and union (Underhill, 1928).
The ethical summum bonum for Philo is union with God. This means becoming like God (being holy, virtuous and wise; cf. Plato, Theateus 176a−b), gaining in some sense a vision or knowledge of God, and, finally, having a personal loving relationship with God.
Again, various events and figures in the Old Testament, for Philo, are associated with each of these stages. For example, Jacob is a symbol for the practicer of ascesis.
5. Spirituality
Ultimately Philo sees the ideal human life as spiritually oriented. This involves the moderation of appetites and passions, the practice of prayer and contemplation, the development of spiritual senses, and an influx of spiritual inspirations, insights and guidances.
In modern (e.g., Jungian) psychology this has various counterparts, including the integration of conscious and unconscious mental operation, the ‘sacred marriage’ of ego and Self, the harmonious cooperation of the brain hemispheres (McGilchrist, 2009), and Being-cognition (Maslow, 1971).
St. Paul — a contemporary of Philo, and, like him, familiar with the prevailing currents of Stoic ethics, as well as steeped in the psychology of the Old Testament — summed up our condition as a tension between carnal mindedness (concern with worldly things) and spiritual mindedness (a personality organized by spiritual concerns). He also uses the terms ‘old man’ and ‘new man’ to refer to these conflicting dimensions of our personality. This is what St. Paul means when he says the flesh lusteth against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh: and these are contrary the one to the other (Gal. 5:17). The redeemed psychological condition then, for both St. Paul and Philo, can be understood as the return to spiritual mindedness. To jump ahead a little historically, the movements of psychological fall and salvation correspond, in the system of Neoplatonism’s founder, Plotinus, to what he calls the descent and ascent of the soul (Uebersax, 2014).
Jungian Psychology
Besides its connection with subpersonality theory, Philo’s system finds counterparts in the archetypal psychology of Carl Jung (in fact, Jung admits borrowing the term ‘archetype’ from Philo). While they are by no means identical, Philo’s and Jung’s systems agree on these points:
- Scripture and myth serve the purpose of communicating universal psychological truths;
- Their chief aims include the amelioration of mental dysfunction and attaining of self-realization; and
- The characters of myths and scripture are images of archetypes, that is, representations of universal structures and processes of the human psyche. Philo does not, though, as do some neo-Jungians, see archetypes as existing autonomously as somewhat like living metaphysical entities; for example, Abraham in Genesis is an archetypal symbol, but not an ‘Archetype’ with independent existence.
In consequence, both Philo and Jungian writers like Jung himself and Campbell (1949) understand exegesis of myth and scripture as in large part a deciphering of the universal psychological meanings of the figures and stories therein.
The Jungian psychiatrist, Edward Edinger, wrote several books applying archetypal exegesis to the Bible. His works are interesting and worth reading, but must be approached cautiously, as they are often no more than half-true. To his credit Edinger writes well and draws into discussion an interesting array of works from numerous disciplines — for example, Ginzberg’s Legends of the Jews and Milton’s Paradise Lost. On the negative side he bears an undisguised and militant antipathy towards organized religion, especially Christianity. He implies that traditional Christianity is obsolete and will be replaced by a new system based on Jungian psychology! As a result, his interpretations frequently miss the mark. His prejudice filters out any conclusion that might present traditional religion in any but an unflattering light
These cautions notwithstanding, Jungian psychology supplies a vocabulary and conceptual scheme very helpful for understanding Philo’s system — and the psychological meaning of Psalms — in modern terms. It also supplies an alternative perspective — something valuable, if not indispensable in any scientific-minded investigation to help prevent the close-minded dogmatism to which the human ego is always vulnerable.
Related Literature
As noted, Philo does not cite Psalms often, but the handful of examples in his works suffice to show that he did not hesitate to apply the same exegetical methods there that he used for interpreting Genesis and Exodus. Evagrius of Ponticus — strongly influenced by Origen (who himself used Philo’s exegetical methods) authored Scholia on Psalms (Dysinger, 2005), but these unfortunately has not been fully translated into English. Pseudo-Procopius of Gaza (an anonymous author, possibly Byzantine) wrote a Commentary on Proverbs (Gohl, 2019) that adheres closely to the Platonic/Philonic psychology.
St. Augustine learned Bible interpretation from St. Ambrose — who himself was well acquainted withe Philo’s works, producing Latin paraphrases of several of them. Therefore we are not surprised to find in Augustine’s Annotations on Psalms many examples of Philo-like interpretation. However these are mixed with several other levels of interpretation.
A modern compilation of patristic interpretations of Psalms can be found in Blaising and Hardin (2014) and Wesselschmidt (2007; cf. Neale & Littledale, 1869−1874). Spurgeon’s Treasury of David contains many choice excerpts on the inner meaning of Psalms by writers from 16th through the 19th centuries.
Themes of Psalms
The 150 psalms all express a relatively small set of interacting and interpenetrating psychological themes. These are expressed in the voice of the psalmist, but as it is we who pray the psalms, they must be understood as applying to ourselves:
- Lamentation. We lament being persecuted, oppressed, threatened or held captive by powerful opponents.
- Penitence. We acknowledge and experience regret for past wrongdoings, and for our own weakness and propensity for sin.
- Trust. We trust, hope, and have confidence in salvation from God.
- Thanks. We thank God for deliverance,.
- Praise. We praise God for His goodness, glory and countless blessings.
- Contemplation and ascent. We express a desire to ascend to a more contemplative and spiritual condition of mind.
- God’s Name. Frequent reference is made to God’s name. Here God’s name seems to be understood in the sense of reputation. Confidence is expressed that God will want to redeem us that much more, because in doing so his reputation is enhanced, leading other people to seek salvation.
- Suffering servant. Many verses refer to a suffering servant: a virtuous character who endures hardship and makes sacrifices to aid the process of salvation. Conventionally this has been taken as a prophecy of the life and death of Jesus. That interpretation may have had some value as an apologetic device in the early years of Church history. However that meaning has little practical value today. As we believe Psalms has enduring relevance, it seems reasonable to prefer a psychological meaning. Hence the suffering servant would, to put the matter in the broadest of terms, be some aspect of the psyche which willingly undergoes suffering as part of the process of psychological and moral salvation.
These are not independent themes, but interact in a complex way as saga of our salvation. It seems fairly clear that a kind of cyclicity is involved, such that there is a process of fall into sin and mental disorder, and return. This cycle repeats itself in ones life — perhaps on a daily basis. There is something like a holographic quality to Psalms, such that each psalm helps illumine the meaning of the others.
Finally, we may briefly note the range of characters in Psalms. There is, first, the psalmist. Sometimes this is explicitly identified as David, and sometimes someone else. It seems uncertain — if not plainly unlikely — that any of the psalms were written by a historical King David. Besides speaking to himself, the psalmist addresses several other parties, including God (the LORD) and his persecutors (a term used more or less synonymously with ‘heathen’). A figure that often appears is the “Son.” Again, it does us little practical good to equate this reflexively with an allusion to Jesus Christ. From a psychological standpoint, rather, the Son might be understood as a new component of the psyche which develops to facilitate the inner process of salvation. In short, we might think of this as an ‘inner Christ,’ or Christ consciousness. Finally, references are made to a judge who condemns and punishes the wicked. Once again the most productive course is to try to associate this figure with some inner psychic mechanism.
Let this suffice, then, as an introduction. Everything said here must be regarded as tentative. Nothing is stated dogmatically, and everything said here is really just an example of what might be true — an initial approximation. To arrive at true meanings is something that requires dedicated and repeated reading, prayer and inspiration. In the end, perhaps these things cannot be communicated by words to others. It is hoped merely that this short introduction will convince readers that there is a valuable psychological message in Psalms, and help motivate people to seek it.
Because so much depends on personal effort, the last thing that would be appropriate, I believe, is an exhaustive line-by-line commentary on Psalms. It’s much better to illustrate how the reader may apply the interpretive rules implicit in the above to arrive at personally relevant meanings. Accordingly, I will simply perform a commentary on a few representative psalms — which should be sufficient to demonstrate the ‘Philonic’ method of interpretation.
Interpretation
From here the plan is to apply the principles above to the Book of Psalms. To begin, we will initially consider Psalms 1 and 2. More material will then be added over time.
To avoid repetition, symbols and meanings once discussed in an earlier psalm will not be repeated when the appear in later ones. Therefore it will not be necessary to treat every verse, or every psalm.
Psalm 23 (the Good Shepherd) and Psalm 119 (the Great Psalm) have previously been considered (Psalm 23, Psalm 119).
Text and numbering of the psalms follows the King James Version (KJV).
Psalm 1
The first psalm has traditionally been seen as a preface to the entire book, summarizing and touching on all it’s main themes. (Fuller discussions of Psalm 1 along the present lines can be found here and here.)
[1] Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly, nor standeth in the way of sinners, nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful.
- Blessed. Makarios. At the beginning we see that the aim is the condition of blessedness. This can be understood here as the telos or ethical summum bonum of human life.
- Next follows three principal obstacles to blessedness, which can be interpreted as corresponding to characteristic problems associated with the three Platonic divisions of the psyche.
- Counsel of the ungodly. The rational part of our mind is subjected to impious counsels — that is, thoughts that originate from purely material and worldly concerns.
- Way of sinners. Mental temptations associated with aberrations of the desiring/appetitive part of the psyche.
- Seat of the scornful. The scornful (also translated as scoffers) represent cynical, overly critical and hostile thoughts that originate in the ambitious or spirited part of the mind.
[2] But his delight is in the law of the LORD; and in his law doth he meditate day and night.
- Delight. Hedone: what the will seeks, what is in a broad sense pleasurable.
- Law of the Lord. Not written commandments, but a more subtle concept: remaining in a state of continuing communion with God, attentive and responding to God’s mental guidances, inspirations, directions, etc.
- Meditate. Directing ones mind to, making the effort to focus attention on.
- Day and night. Day may be understood as times of mental clarity. Nights, as in ‘dark nights of the soul,’ where the clear and tangible signs of God’s activity in ones life are not present; one must then exert effort to persevere in the Way.
[3] And he shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that bringeth forth his fruit in his season; his leaf also shall not wither; and whatsoever he doeth shall prosper.
- Rivers of water. Streams of spiritual nutrition, flowing from the unconscious — but ultimately from God.
- Fruit. Spiritual fruits of insight, wisdom, virtue. Also acts of charity, including socially relevant creative activity.
- Prosper. We cannot prosper when we are not focused on God and God’s ways, because in that case (1) we are divided against ourselves, (2) were we to prosper in this condition, it would fuel pride and draw us away from God; and (3) it glorifies God and inspires other people if we prosper through inner righteousness.
[4] The ungodly are not so: but are like the chaff which the wind driveth away.
- Ungodly. Ourselves, when our thoughts and actions are directed by worldly concerns.
- Chaff, wind. This trope, which includes the notion of scattering, is most interesting, and evidently important as it is found throughout Psalms, as well as elsewhere in the Bible. Here it may mean that when we are in a worldly condition of mind, our thoughts are inevitably scattered. Scattering of thoughts may be a kind of punishment, as in the confusion of tongues in the Tower of Babel story.
[5] Therefore the ungodly shall not stand in the judgment, nor sinners in the congregation of the righteous.
- Judgment. Not a historical Last Judgment, but some existential, ultimate inner cognitive judgment. This may allude to an ultimate arbiter and judge of our thoughts within the psyche. We will return to this topic in the next psalm.
- Congregation of the righteous. Following our hermeneutic rules, this would suggest some kind of assembly or congregation of virtuous elements of the psyche. The word suggests a large number, rather than a small band. This is a lofty topic about which we simply know virtually nothing, nor has it been the subject of much rational speculation. Compare this, however, with what vast choirs of angels may symbolize at the psychological level (cf. Pseudo-Dionysius).
[6] For the LORD knoweth the way of the righteous: but the way of the ungodly shall perish.
- Shall perish. Our ungodly thoughts, the fruits of our worldly dispositions, have no permanence. They are ultimately unreal (in a Platonic sense); and, as we have said above, conflict with other worldly thoughts. Only thoughts that originate in or comport with our spiritual nature are harmonious, within and without. That which is internally inconsistent and incongruous with Nature will be short-lived.
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Psalm 2
The second psalm is, again, sometimes understood as a preface, as it introduces basic themes that are repeatedly addressed later.
Whereas the first psalm excites our hopes, the second presents difficulties now to be faced.
[1] Why do the heathen rage, and the people imagine a vain thing?
- Heathen rage. The heathen are worldly dispositions or subpersonalities, those concerned with achievement of ambitions and satisfaction of appetites. Rage, rebellion, agitation and disquietude may accompany the frustration of the aims of these elements.
- imagine a vain thing. This suggests a connection between the activity of our frustrated carnal nature and deluded thinking. This view is not implausible or without precedent. In Plato’s cave, prisoners’ thinking is imaginary and deluded, as they consider mere shadows on the wall. The chains that prevent them from turning away from delusion are their attachments to unmoderated passions. Recall the paradox of Socrates: are we ignorant because we are unvirtuous, or unvirtuous because we are ignorant?
- We should not necessarily assume, however, that passions automatically become unruly when frustrated. Rather, it would seem we are designed to seek inner harmony, and it is in the interests of all sub-egos to cooperate with this. It could be, then, that some outside or additional element — a free-floating urge to disharmony — exists. And, if so, we may find this and its remedy described in Psalms and elsewhere in myth and scripture.
[2] The kings of the earth set themselves, and the rulers take counsel together, against the LORD, and against his anointed, saying,
[3] Let us break their bands asunder, and cast away their cords from us.
- kings of the earth. As already mentioned, certain higher-order carnal dispositions exist that somehow control and organize others. Insight into the psychological meaning of ‘kings of the earth’ can be found in Philo’s writings, as he addresses theme as it occurs throughout Genesis and Exodus. Pharaoh is the most important example of such a king of the earth.
- take counsel together. Implying some capacity of these sub-egos to communicate and form confederations. This confederation potential of sub-egos has been noted by both Rowan (1990) and Lester (2012).
- his anointed. See below.
[4] He that sitteth in the heavens shall laugh: the Lord shall have them in derision.
- He that sitteth in the heavens. This could refer either to God, or a Higher Self. Perhaps one can say that both are meant. Importantly, from the perspective of the ego, this almost doesn’t matter. The ego knows only there is something above it — some benevolent, saving power to which it must turn.
- Further, assuming God and a Higher Self are separate entities, it is possible that the latter mediates the relationship of the ego to God. In humbling itself before a Higher Self, then, the ego is also humbling itself before God.
[5] Then shall he speak unto them in his wrath, and vex them in his sore displeasure.
- Commentators on Psalms have long found a stumbling block in the frequent references to a wrathful God, whom the psalmist asks to bring about the destruction of enemies. Taken literally this is diametrically opposed to the sound Gospel principle of loving and forgiving ones enemies. Our strong-psychological reading of Psalms removes this difficulty. The enemies are inner enemies. The right use of anger and wrath is to empower the overcoming of ones own vice. Wrath is misused when directed against other human beings.
[6] Yet have I set my king upon my holy hill of Zion.
[7] I will declare the decree: the LORD hath said unto me, Thou art my Son; this day have I begotten thee.
- set my king; my Son. In Psalms we must note the clear distinction between God (the LORD) and the Son. The latter we propose is a new ruling, kingly and priestly sub-personality that develops, ordained by God with the express purpose of leading a spiritualization and moral reformation of the entire personality. We might see it as a Christ principle, a keystone of a new edifice of the personality which is being constructed in the process of psychological salvation.
[8] Ask of me, and I shall give thee the heathen for thine inheritance, and the uttermost parts of the earth for thy possession.
[9] Thou shalt break them with a rod of iron; thou shalt dash them in pieces like a potter’s vessel.
- heathen for thine inheritance. The LORD will assist the new, king/priest sub-ego to gain authority over the personality.
- rod of iron. This personality element has the power to control heathen subpersonalities.
- dash them in pieces. The Son is also an inner judge and, avenger. He is able to scatter the thoughts of heathen sub-egos, rendering them ineffectual.
- This presents us with an important question. If thoughts are (as so often is the case) scattered and confused, is this (1) a sign of oppression by frustrated heathen sub-egos, or (2) the result of punitive actions of a righteous inner judge upon rebellious inner heathens? Could it even be both are the same thing, viewed from the perspectives of different sub-egos? Perhaps this will become more clear as we continue this exercise of interpretation. Regardless, scattering and confusion of thoughts is eliminated when the personality is harmonized by holiness; gratitude, humility, trust, hope and the condition of giving God thanks and praise.
[10] Be wise now therefore, O ye kings: be instructed, ye judges of the earth.
[11] Serve the LORD with fear, and rejoice with trembling.
[12] Kiss the Son, lest he be angry, and ye perish from the way, when his wrath is kindled but a little. Blessed are all they that put their trust in him.
- Kiss the Son. The kings of the earth may be reconciled to the overall project of harmonization, integration, holiness and ascension (a topic we have not yet addressed). Therefore the goal is not to destroy, but convert them.
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Notes
1. Philo quotes Psalms about two-dozen times, often supplying a psychological interpretation consistent with his exegesis of Genesis and Exodus.
2. A monitoring of ones thoughts for five minutes suffices to show how many mental characters, roles and orientations we regularly assume and how rapidly these change.
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References
Asrani, U. A. The psychology of mysticism. In: John White (ed.), The highest state of consciousness 2nd ed., White Crow, 2012. (Article originally appeared in Main Currents in Modern Thought, 25, 1969, 68–73.)
Blaising, Craig A.; Hardin, Carmen S. (eds.). Psalms 1−50. Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture. InterVarsity Press, 2014.
Campbell, Joseph. The Hero with a Thousand Faces. Princeton, 1949.
Colson F. H.; Whitaker, G. H.; Marcus Ralph (eds.). The Works of Philo. 12 vols. Loeb Classical Library. Harvard University Press, 1929−1953.
Dysinger, Luke. Evagrius Ponticus: Scholia on Psalms. Web article. 2005.
Edinger, Edward F. The Sacred Psyche: A Psychological Approach to the Psalms. Inner City Books, 2004
Gohl, Justin M. Pseudo-Procopius of Gaza, Commentary on Proverbs 1-9 (Ἑρμηνεία εἰς τὰς Παροιμίας). 2019.
Huxley, Aldous. The Perennial Philosophy. London: Chatto & Windus, 1947.
Lamberton, Robert. Homer the Theologian: Neoplatonist Allegorical Reading and the Growth of the Epic Tradition. Berkeley: University of California, 1986.
Lester, David. A multiple self theory of the mind. Comprehensive Psychology, 2012, 1, 5.
Maslow, Abraham H. The farther reaches of human nature. New York: Arkana, 1993 (first published Viking, 1971).
McGilchrist, Iain. The Master and His Emissary: The Divided Brain and the Making of the Western World. New Haven: Yale, 2009.
Neale, John Mason; Littledale, Richard Frederick. A Commentary on the Psalms. 2nd ed. 4 vols. London: Masters, 1869−1874.
Rowan, John. Subpersonalities: The People Inside Us. Routledge, 1990 (repr. 2013).
Russell, Donald Andrew; Konstan, David. Heraclitus: Homeric Problems. Atlanta, 2005.
Spurgeon, Charles Haddon. The Treasury of David. 7 vols. London: 1881−1885.
Uebersax, John. Psychological Allegorical Interpretation of the Bible. Camino Real, 2012.
Uebersax, John. The monomyth of fall and salvation. Christian Platonism (website). 2014.
Uebersax, John. The soul’s great battle of Kurukshetra. Satyagraha: Cultural Psychology (website). 2021.
Uebersax, John. Pitirim Sorokin’s personality theory. Satyagraha: Cultural Psychology (website). 2015.
Underhill, Evelyn. Mysticism. 12th ed. New York: E. P. Dutton, 1930.
Wesselschmidt, Quentin F. (ed.). Psalms 51−150. Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture. Intervarsity Press, 2007.
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Psalm 19
Caeli enarrant gloriam Dei
Psalm 19 (KJV)
THE HEAVENS declare the glory of God; and the firmament sheweth his handywork.
[2] Day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto night sheweth knowledge.
[3] There is no speech nor language, where their voice is not heard.
[4] Their line is gone out through all the earth, and their words to the end of the world. In them hath he set a tabernacle for the sun,
[5] Which is as a bridegroom coming out of his chamber, and rejoiceth as a strong man to run a race.
[6] His going forth is from the end of the heaven, and his circuit unto the ends of it: and there is nothing hid from the heat thereof.
[7] The law of the LORD is perfect, converting the soul: the testimony of the LORD is sure, making wise the simple.
[8] The statutes of the LORD are right, rejoicing the heart: the commandment of the LORD is pure, enlightening the eyes.
[9] The fear of the LORD is clean, enduring for ever: the judgments of the LORD are true and righteous altogether.
[10] More to be desired are they than gold, yea, than much fine gold: sweeter also than honey and the honeycomb.
[11] Moreover by them is thy servant warned: and in keeping of them there is great reward.
[12] Who can understand his errors? cleanse thou me from secret faults.
[13] Keep back thy servant also from presumptuous sins; let them not have dominion over me: then shall I be upright, and I shall be innocent from the great transgression.
[14] Let the words of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart, be acceptable in thy sight, O LORD, my strength, and my redeemer.
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St. Gregory the Great on the Two Doors of Contemplation
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Peter Paul Rubens,The Ecstasy of St Gregory the Great (1608)
THE Homlies on Ezekiels is an important but little studied work by St. Gregory the Great. It contains twelve homilies on the vision of Ezekiel 1 and ten homilies on the temple vision of Ezekiel 40. Contemplation is a main theme of the latter. The excerpt of Homilies below gives a anagogical interpretation of Ezekiel 40:13, He measured then the gate from the roof of one little chamber to the roof of another: the breadth was five and twenty cubits, door against door.
Cuthbert Butler writes: “[A] passage, extending over §§ 8−20 of the Homilies on Ezechiel, II. v., is the one piece in St Gregory’s writings that may claim to be in any way a scientific or psychological exposition of the process of contemplation. Striking passages of the kind have been adduced from St Augustine, wherein is described under the act of introversion the soul’s search to find God within itself, a search which for St Augustine appears to have been a process predominantly intellectual, but culminating in a fully religious experience. St Gregory’s passage on introversion, though of greatly inferior power, is of much interest, as being the only account he gives, known to me, of the intellectual side of contemplation. It is difficult in places to understand, and very difficult to translate, the doctrine of contemplation being couched in terms of an allegorical interpretation of the doors and windows of Ezcchiel’s Temple. An attempt will be made to reproduce the teaching positively, detached as far as may be from the references to the Temple, and in a contracted form. He starts from the words of Ezechiel xl. 13, A door against a door, that is, an inner door opposite to an outer one. He [St. Gregory] proceeds:”
Other important discussions of St. Gregory’s on contemplation are found in his Moralia on Job and Homilies on the Song of Songs. Ancient editors also collected many passages from his other works that interpret the Song of Songs in a contemplative framework (DelCogliano, 2012).
Concerning St. Gregory’s influences, DelCogliano writes:
“It is notoriously difficult to pinpoint Gregory’s sources. His writings are so suffused with the thought of his patristic predecessors [JU: e.g., Origen, St. Ambrose, St. Augustine] that it is tough to demarcate where their doctrine ends and his begins. He has made the preceding patristic tradition his own. Gregory absorbed the teachings of his predecessors and reexpressed them in a way that reflected his concerns as well as those of his audience. He was no mere copyist; he digested the thoughts of others and ruminated on them in the light of his own experience as a pastor, ascetic, and contemplative. This would often transform the ideas of his sources in striking ways. Hence, we find in Gregory’s writings sentiments that are simultaneously very familiar and very novel.”
It is clear in any case that St. Gregory bases his writings on deep personal experience with contemplation, and they are full of practical knowledge.
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References
Latin Text
Adriaen, Marc (ed.). Moralia in Job. Corpus Christianorum Series Latina, vols. 143, 143A & 143B. Latin critical edition. Brepols, 1979/2005.
Adriaen, Marc (ed.). S. Gregorii Magni Homiliae in Hiezechihelem Prophetam. Corpus Christianorum Series Latina, vol. 142. Latin critical edition. Brepols, 1971.
Gregorius I. Homiliae in Ezechielem. J. P. Migne, Patrologia Latina 76 0785A−1072C, 1849.
Gregorius I. Moralia. J. P. Migne, Patrologia Latina 75 509D−1162B. Paris, 1849.
English Translation
Bliss, James and anonymous (trs.). St. Gregory the Great: Morals on the Book of Job. Three vols. Library of the Fathers. Oxford, 1844−1850.
DelCogliano, Mark. Gregory the Great on the Song of Songs. Liturgical Press, 2012.
Kerns, Brian (tr.). Gregory the Great: Moral Reflections on the Book of Job. Six vols. Liturgical Press, 2014−2022. (English translation of Latin critical edition.)
O’Donnell, James J. (tr.). Saint Gregory the Great: Moralia or Commentary on the Book of Blessed Job. Online text (unpublished)
Tomkinson, Theodosia (tr.). Saint Gregory the Great: Homilies on the Book of the Prophet Ezekiel. Second Edition. Center for Traditionalist Orthodox Studies, 1990. English translation of Migne, Patrologia Latina, Vol. 76, 785A–1072C.
Secondary Literature
Butler, Cuthbert. Western Mysticism, Constable, 1922; St Gregory the Great, pp. 89−133. Butler’s excerpts from St. Gregory’s works (but not the analytical discussion) are reproduced in: Egan, Harvey D. An Anthology of Christian Mysticism, Liturgical Press, 1991, pp. 105−113.
McGinn, Bernard. Contemplation in Gregory the Great. In: Ed. John C. Cavadini, Gregory the Great: A Symposium, University of Notre Dame Press, 1995/2015.
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Written by John Uebersax
September 10, 2022 at 5:33 pm
Posted in Allegorical interpretation, Allegorical interpretation, Anagogic exegesis, Anagogy, ascetical psychology, Commentary, Contemplation, Exegesis, Gregory the Great