The Enarrations, or Expositions, on the Psalms

^6. But this man being troubled and made sad was praying, his eye being disturbed as it were on account of anger. But the anger of a brother if it shall have been inveterate is then hatred. Anger does trouble the eye, hatred does quench it: anger is a straw, hatred is a beam. Sometimes you hate and chidest an angry man: in you is hatred, in him whom you chide anger: with reason to you is said, “Cast out first the beam from your own eye, and so you shall see to cast out the straw from your brother's eye.” For that you may know how much difference there is between anger and hatred: day by day men are angry with their sons, show me them that hate their sons! This man being troubled was praying even when made sad, wrestling against all revilings of all revilers; not in order that he might conquer any one of them by giving back reviling, but that he might not hate any one of them. Hence he prays, hence asks: “From the voice of the enemy and from the tribulation of the sinner.” “My heart has been troubled in me”. This is the same as elsewhere has been said, “My eye because of anger has been troubled.” And if eye has been troubled, what follows? “And fear of death has fallen upon me.” Our life is love: if life is love, death is hatred. When a man has begun to fear lest he should hate him that he was loving, it is death he is fearing; and a sharper death, and a more inward death, whereby soul is killed, not body. You minded a man raging against you; what was he to do, against whom your own Lord had given you security, saying, “Fear not them that kill the body”? He by raging kills body, thou by keeping hatred hast killed soul; and he the body of another, thou your own soul. “Fear,” therefore, “of death has fallen upon me.”

7. “Fearfulness and trembling have come upon me, and darkness has covered me”. “And I have said,” “He that hates his brother, is in darkness until now.” If love is light, hatred is darkness. And what says to himself one set in that weakness and troubled in that exercise? “Who shall give me wings as to a dove, and I shall fly and shall rest?”. Either for death he was wishing, or for solitude he was longing. So long, he says, as this is the work with me, as this command is given me, that I should love enemies, the revilings of these men, increasing and shadowing me, do derange my eye, perturb my sight, penetrate my heart, slay my soul. I could wish to depart, but weak I am, lest by abiding I should add sins to sins: or at least may I be separated for a little space from mankind, lest my wound suffer from frequent blows, in order that when it has been made whole it may be brought back to the exercise. This is what takes place, brethren, and there arises ofttimes in the mind of the servant of God a longing for solitude, for no other reason than because of the multitude of tribulations and scandals, and he says, “Who shall give me wings?” Does he find himself without wings, or rather with bound wings? If they are wanting, be they given; if bound, be they loosed; because even he that looses a bird's wings, either gives, or gives back to it its wings. For it had not as though its own them, wherewith it could not fly. Bound wings make a burden. “Who,” he says, “shall give me wings as to a dove, and I shall fly and shall rest?” Shall rest, where? I have said there are two senses here: either, as says the Apostle, “To be dissolved and to be with Christ, for it is by far the best thing.”...Even he that amended cannot be, is yours, either by the fellowship of the human race, or ofttimes by Church Communion; he is within, what will you do? Whither wilt go? Whither separate yourself, in order that these things you may not suffer? But go to him, speak, exhort, coax, threaten, reprove. I have done all things, whatever powers I had I have expended and have drained, nothing I see have I prevailed; all my labour has been spent out, sorrow has remained. How then shall my heart rest from such men, except I say, “Who shall give me wings?” “As to a dove,” however, not as to a raven. A dove seeks a flying away from troubles, but she loses not love. For a dove as a type of love is set forth, and in her the plaint is loved. Nothing is so fond of plaints as a dove: day and night she complains, as though she were set here where she ought to complain. What then says this lover? Revilings of men to bear I am unable, they roar, with frenzy are carried away, are inflamed with indignation, in anger they shadow me; to do good to them I am unable; O that I might rest somewhere, being separated from them in body, not in love; lest in me there should be troubled love itself: with my words and my speech no good can I do them, by praying for them perchance I shall do good. These words men say, but ofttimes they are so bound, that to fly they are not able. For perchance they are not bound with any birdlime, but are bound by duty. But if they are bound with care and duty, and to leave it are unable, let them say, “I was wishing to be dissolved and to be with Christ, for it is by far the best thing: to abide in the flesh is necessary because of you.” A dove bound back by affection, not by cupidity, was not able to fly away because of duty to be fulfilled, not because of little merit. Nevertheless a longing in heart must needs be; nor does any man suffer this longing, but he that has begun to walk in that narrow way: in order that he may know that there are not wanting to the Church persecutions, even in this time, when a calm is seen in the Church, at least with respect to those persecutions which our Martyrs have suffered. But there are not wanting persecutions, because a true saying is this, “All that will godly to live in Christ, shall suffer persecution.”...

8. “Behold I have gone afar fleeing, and have abode in the desert”. In what desert? Wherever you shall be, there will gather them together other men, the desert with you they will seek, will attach themselves to your life, you can not thrust back the society of brethren: there are mingled with you also evil men; still exercise is your due portion, “Behold I have gone afar, and have abode in the desert.” In what desert? It is perchance in the conscience, whither no man enters, where no one is with you, where you are and God. For if in the desert, in any place, what will you do with men gathering themselves together? For you will not be able to be separated from mankind, so long as among men you live?