In Psalmum 50 homilia

Homily on the inscription of the fiftieth psalm, and on the repentance of David, and on the matter of Uriah. 1. Painters imitate nature by their art, and mixing colors, they paint images of visible bodies, and they make men, and animals, and trees, and wars, and battles, and streams of blood, and spears, and breastplates, and shields, and kings, and private citizens, and a royal throne, and a king seated, and a barbarian subject, and a sharpened spearpoint, and flowing rivers, and varied plains, and in short everything visible they imitate through their art, providing a spectacle to those who see. So too the prophets are certain painters of virtue and vice. For they also depict by speech the sinner, the just man, the one repenting, the one standing, the one falling, the one rising, the one wavering. And just as painters make wars and slaughters, so too these make sin, sometimes advancing, sometimes being cast down, and again demons, now warring, now being warred upon, and the devil, sometimes plotting, sometimes also being defeated.

Since their art is of such a kind, let us examine it with precision. For when we look at the paintings of painters, we depart gaining nothing. For what benefit is it to me to see an image of a king or a consul? I can neither become a king, nor do I wish to. What benefit, then, is the spectacle, whose desire I do not have, and if I should desire it, I am punished? What benefit is it to me to see a man who is wealthy? If I am poor, I envy; if I am rich, I am envied. Suffering the same things again, I lament. Leave those images aside, and look at this spectacle. If I see a consul, what is that to me? If I see a sinner who has fallen and then risen again, the spectacle becomes a subject of instruction for me. If I see a righteous man standing, the spectacle leads me toward philosophy. From the spectacle I learn the battle, and I am taught the victory. If I see a righteous man tripped up, again I become wiser from the spectacle. All these things have not been said to me simply or in vain, but because the image of the psalm read today leads us into this subject of instruction. For what does the prophet say? "Have mercy on me, O God, according to your great mercy; and according to the multitude of your compassions, blot out my lawlessness." This is the image. For I call the psalm an image. For I see various persons in the psalm: sin approaching and being slain, repentance standing by and fighting alongside God, philanthropy shining from above, providing philosophy, and having many springs of tears from confession.

These are the figures of the image. But before I begin the psalm, it is necessary to explain its inscription to you more precisely. For just as images have inscriptions, so also do the psalms. For images standing above have below them boards of purple, who the king is, and of whom, and what war he accomplished; but upon the psalm the inscription is placed above, what the subject is, and what the teaching, and what the root, and for what reason the psalm was spoken. Lend me your ear with precision to the discourse. For our exposition is not about ordinary matters. A psalm for David, when the prophet Nathan came to him, when he went in to Bathsheba the wife of Uriah. This is the inscription. Let us learn, then, who Nathan is, and who Bathsheba is. Who then is the wife of Uriah? And when did the prophet go in to her? And for what reason did he write this psalm? For not all the psalms are spoken about David. For all are by him, but not all are spoken about him. For he did not only narrate his own sufferings, but also sang of the misfortunes of others. For example, "By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down and wept"; it is evident that the psalm is not spoken about him, for he neither went to Babylon, nor saw a land of barbarians, nor sat in a foreign land and wept, but he narrates the sufferings of the Jews. Again, when he says, "They dug my hands and my feet, they counted all my bones," he does not explain his own suffering, but proclaims the cross, the sacrifice for the salvation of the world, for the salvation of our race.

For it is an image that contains varied teaching. Sometimes it relates its own affairs, sometimes those of others. Since this psalm also relates the affairs of others, it is for this reason that it is inscribed, "When the prophet Nathan came to him." So the inscription does not allow us to be sluggish, nor to carry our mind elsewhere, but such things stand as guardians and teachers, and it also teaches other meanings which the inscription tells us. 2. But pay close attention, both the righteous and the sinners. For the psalm is useful to each party: to the righteous, that he may not be negligent; to the sinner, that he may not despair of his own salvation. For both are hard to censure. For the righteous, if he becomes negligent, is cast down, and the sinner, if he despairs, does not rise. So that neither this one may remain in a fall, nor that one may fall into a fall, this psalmody of this psalmist is given as saving to each party. I am about to relate a great and grievous sin of the prophet. But let none of us condemn. For the love of God for humanity, taking thought for the common race of men, has transformed both the achievements of the saints and their sins into remedies, so that the wounds of some become medicines for others, and the shipwreck of the righteous becomes a harbor for the sinner. For when the righteous man sins, I no longer despair of my own salvation; when I see that he was brought down from the heavens, his fall becomes for me a basis for rising. For this reason the grace of the Spirit has recorded not only the achievements of the righteous, but also their sins.

For he not only made mention of those earlier events, but also of those that happened afterward. I wish therefore to show you this noble man wounded, fallen, risen, wrestling, defeated, victorious, crowned. For I do not show him lying in his fall only, but also raised up, so that you may gain from both sides, so that when you sin, you may not despair, but immediately run to the resurrection; nor say, "Woe is me, I am lost, I committed adultery, I fornicated, I murdered." For you have a harbor of salvation that repels sin. For when you see such a man receiving wounds and being torn apart, immediately run to repentance, and boldly pour forth streams of tears, so that through his repentance you may learn your own salvation more precisely. I mean something like this: Many have often fallen, both men and women, into a severe and incurable disease. Tears were shed, medicines were consumed, the medical art was at a loss, beauty was wasted, the body gave up. Then the woman goes about: "Where shall I go? What shall I do? I have spent money, I have called doctors, medicines have been consumed; the disease remains, the wound is not healed.

Often it has happened that one of those visiting would say: "I too fell into such a suffering, and so-and-so, or such-and-such a woman, applied a remedy to me and relieved me of the pain." Then he urges: "Show me the woman. Go to the narrow street." So also now, since he committed adultery and murder, and the wound is grievous, I show you how he was healed and what remedy was applied. And I do not say: "Go to the narrow street, ask this one or that one." There is no need of toil, no need of labor, nor is it necessary for you to cross thresholds, but standing here you may receive the remedy. Only pay attention to what is said. For it is necessary to introduce the account and to tell the time when he sinned, and the place, and the person, and the repentance, and the correction, and the remedy, so that having learned everything with precision, you may depart accordingly. This David, then, being young and quite a youth, of an obscure father, and attending to the land and the flocks, fled cities and regions and tumults, and in the wilderness displayed philosophy, having nothing in common with worldly affairs, but from his earliest age living with the companion of virtue, quietude, and sitting as if in a harbor in the wilderness, he practiced the kingdom of heaven through the oversight of sheep. This one, then, was young, quite a youth, young in age but gray in mind; and the incompleteness of his age did not hinder such great virtue; but being very young, he conquered not by strength of body but by strength of faith. But pay close attention to the account.

It became necessary at some time for a king to be given to the Jews, since the first one who had been appointed was unworthy. God immediately sends Samuel to his father. When Samuel came to Jesse, the father of David, the child was among the flocks, very small. I never cease speaking constantly about youth, so that no one may slander a young person nor praise an old person. For neither is gray hair virtue, nor is youth vice. Many have displayed wisdom in youth, and many have been tripped up in old age. For the three youths were in the fire and quenched the flame. And Daniel, being twelve years old, made the lions into sheep, not by changing their nature, but by bridling their ferocity with faith; and after refuting the foolish elders, he was appointed judge of Israel. And Stephen, the foremost of the deacons, full of grace and power, filled from youth, conversed with the Hebrew people. Paul, however, was aged and gray-haired, and earlier he had been a plunderer of the churches, but afterward he seized the prize of faith and became a sheep of goodness. Therefore, do not slander the young person, nor praise the aged one. For virtue and vice are not in the difference of age, but in the difference of disposition. If you are sober, the untimeliness of age does not harm you at all; if you are lazy, old age will not benefit you. For gray hair is not white hairs, but virtue of soul. This one, then, being young, possessed the ripe fruit of virtue.

Samuel came to Jesse, not surrounded by a throng of bodies, but holding the horn, where the holy oil was. And what does he say? "God sent me to make a king from among your sons." Jesse, hearing "king," and thinking that the office was suitable for himself, brings his first son. "Bring him forward," he says; "God did not approve of him." The second—"Not this one either." The third, the fourth, the fifth. The whole band of children was exhausted, and the one sought was not found. He says to him, "Do you have another?" The father was ashamed. "I have one," he says, "younger and insignificant, a shepherd." "You seek to make a king, a small and insignificant one?" A man despises, but God crowns. For God does not see as a man sees; a man looks at the face, but God looks at the heart. Are we not seeking an abundance of flesh? We long for nobility of soul. Pay close attention to the word. God did not say to him, "Go, anoint David for me," but, "Go, anoint for me one of the sons of Jesse." And why is he at a loss? And why does he not mention the name? So that David might not suffer what Joseph suffered. For just as those men, having learned that the one sought was their king, plotted against him,

they made war, they sold; such was the fear that these too might do the same. So ignorance became the mother of security. The prophet stood perplexed: "Give me one of your sons." "I do not have one," he says, "but a small boy tending the sheep." A man will not see as God sees. Where are those who pride themselves on beauty of face? Do not speak to me of bodily beauty, but look at the beauty of the mind. For what is a beautiful woman? A whitewashed tomb, if she is not chaste. Beauty is a pit dug open, a poison prepared for others, if she is not chaste; or it withers with disease and is cut short by death. But the beauty of the soul remains immortal and unblemished, and then especially does it display its own loveliness when the passions cease and the mind is in calm. So if you see a man or a woman who is beautiful, do not marvel. For even oaks, raised to a height, have no fruit useful to men, but only to beasts; while the vine, lying low, has ripe fruit of grapes. What then do you want, to have a vine or an oak? Clearly a vine; for the oak, standing in height, has its fruit as food for wild beasts. What is more insignificant than a bee? What is more beautiful than a peacock? But which is better, a bee or a peacock? Clearly a bee. Remove the peacock, and you have harmed nothing; remove the bee, and many things are crippled. So David came, the oil was poured out, and he was anointed by the decree of God, through the ministry of a man. The horn was placed upon him, and it became for him instead of a purple robe and a diadem.

And he went forth holding the kingship, not clad in a breastplate, not in a shield, nor spears, but holding the very vote of God, which is more powerful than all. This man, indeed, when war was summoned and affairs were in turmoil and the barbarians were pressing upon the Jews, went out to see the battle line and to challenge the barbarian to single combat. And no one dared to leap forward and go out. David came, saw the enemy flashing and being irresistible, and all cowering in fear. The shepherd in the war, and those trained in war could not even bear the voice of the enemy; but he, who conversed with trees and shadows and springs, stood before his eyes and said: "Who is this uncircumcised one who has insulted the army of the living God?" And they said to him: "Whence this audacity of yours?" And he: "It is not audacity, but faith; I possess not arrogance, but piety; I arm myself not with a breastplate, but I am clad in faith; I do not look at his size, but at the barrenness of his mind; I do not see that the ship is large, but that it has no pilot. I do not fear him (for he is an enemy of God), even if he is ten thousand times powerful. For because of the divine influence from above, this uncircumcised one is weaker than all." "In what arms do you trust, O David?" "Not in fleshly ones, but in spiritual ones.

For our weapons are not fleshly, but spiritual. And how is it that you are small and weak? But the Master is great. The weapon is cheap; but the one who sent it is strong. He made the sea dry, split a rock, transformed the elements; much more does he prevail over a single man. 4. So he came to the men and says to them: What will be given to the man who lifts his head? He speaks of rewards, not that he may receive a reward, but that he may lead them to faith. What then do the brothers? Again envy, again malice. Why did you leave those little sheep? We know the pride and the wickedness of your heart. O envy, filled with passions, a fire that is not quenched! For just as a worm consumes the wool, so envy wastes away the one who envies, but makes the one envied more brilliant. So it happened also with Joseph and his brothers. For those who envied were reduced from freedom to slavery, while the one envied became king. Again then the brothers:

We know your pride and the wickedness of your heart, because you came down for the sake of seeing the war. What did they begrudge? What did they envy? They heard a word; they could not bear the success of his words. But what did this wise man do? He withdrew from them, cutting off the sore, and went to the other part of the war, and says: What will happen to the man who lifts his head? And they brought him before the king. So he saw the king sitting, cowering, afraid, trembling, and says to him: Why has the face of my lord fallen, and in the midst of success does he confess servitude? Who is this? Shall I not go and take off his head? What then does the king say? And how can you, since you are a small child, but this man is a warrior from his youth? Do not look at what is seen, but at what is understood; do not see that he is small in stature, but that he is great in spirit. What then is to happen? The king disbelieves; David is then compelled to tell him his own achievements. I, he says, was a small child by my father's flock; and when a lion or a bear came and took sheep from the flock, I went out after them, and snatched them from their mouth, and killed the lion and the bear; and this man will be like one of those beasts, because he insulted the army of the living God. And Saul said to David: Go, the Lord is with you. And he gave him weapons, and David could not carry them. Why?

God does not permit this, that he might conquer unarmed, so that the arms might not share in the victory of the achievements, so that the king might not say, "My arms conquered." He casts aside the arms and puts on faith; he goes out unarmed, and armed with reverence; he goes out a shepherd, not a soldier; he lets go a stone, trusting not in the nature of his body but in the power of faith, and he carried off the victory; he ran, took his sword, cut off his head. And the scripture was fulfilled: "The sinner was caught in the works of his hands." Again envy, again malice. I continually dig up the spring, so as to find the eye itself. This man, then, such and so great a man, about whom God says, "I have found David the son of Jesse, a man after my heart." Oh, a lofty commendation! Oh, a proof of virtue! His Master says, "I have found David the son of Jesse, a man after my heart." This man, then, who overcame wild beasts, who killed Goliath, who strangled the lion, who seized the bear, who was gray-haired in youth, small in body and lofty in spirit, who in the royal robe displayed the austerity of monks—for he bathed, not with pearls, but with tears, wetting his bed each night. For people now sleep even in the day, but he was anxious even in the night. Why at night? Because being king in the day, he was overwhelmed by countless affairs; but at night, as if spending time in a harbor, then alone he conversed with God alone, and poured forth streams of tears, and bathed his own bed.

This man, then, so great and so remarkable, who had drawn down the grace of the Spirit, who had grown grey in the age of youth, who had touched the arch of the heavens, who had enjoyed a gift and grace from above, who had ended wars, who had displayed countless achievements against the devil, after temperance, after gentleness, after dignity, when he held the kingdom, when he conquered countless enemies, when he subdued nations, when there was peace on all sides, became more negligent, so that you might learn how many good things affliction brings, and how many evils ease brings. And when? At high noon. After lunch, rising from his couch, he was walking, and he saw a woman naked, bathing, beautiful and very fair. But beauty is not a fault; for beauty is a gift of God. He saw a woman bathing in an upper room, a soldier's wife, beautiful, lovely. He saw, he was winged in his eye, he received the arrow. 5. Let the curious listen, those who pry into and study the beauties of others. Let those mad for the theatres listen, those who say, "We look, but we are not harmed at all." David was harmed, and you are not harmed? He was conquered, and I am to trust you? He who had such grace of the Spirit received an arrow; and you remain unwounded in the contemplation of improper things? And yet he did not see a prostitute, but a chaste and modest woman; and not in a theatre, but in a house; you, however, in a theatre, where even the place punishes the soul; where you not only see, but also hear shameful words, and see a harlot's dress and diabolical songs; and from all sides your mind is struck: by sight from what you saw;

by hearing, from what you hear; by the nose, from what you smell. So many corruptions, so many abysses, and can I assure you that you will not be captured by the beast? For are you stone? Are you iron? You are a human being, subject to the common weakness of nature. You hold fire, and are not burned? How is that reasonable? Place a lamp on hay, and can you tell me that the hay is not burned? What the hay is, that also is our nature. He saw her bathing naked, was captured by her beauty, received the arrow, took the wound, sent for her; and as soon as she came to him, he committed the transgression, fulfilled his desire. He orders her to go to her own house. But I say these things and bring the wounded man into the midst, so that all who stand around may see how he is healed. For a physician, when operating, has all those standing around, so that they may see how by his art he overcomes the disease; much more, when a prophet is being operated upon, all must run together, so that we may see how we ought to be freed from the rot and the worms. The sin is grievous; desire was fulfilled, the sin was completed, and there was no healer. The woman conceived. For a time the king thought he was hiding it from her husband. For even if he was a prophet, still desire had completely darkened him. The woman conceived, became pregnant; she runs swiftly to the king. "O king, I am undone." "What is the matter with you?" "I am pregnant. The fruit of the sin has sprouted; I carry the accusation in my womb; the proof of the sin has grown; I have the evidence from within myself. If my husband comes and sees, what can I say? Or what shall I speak? Consider how great an evil sin is.

The king fears the soldier. For no one is a slave except the one who commits sin. He had put on a diadem, and he feared the reproach. Are you not king? Do you not have authority of the sword? Yes, but I have also committed a grievous sin. O sin, mother of cowardice! O reproach of dishonor! O subject of silence! I am afraid, I tremble, because you have shamed me; I have the reproach within me. If my husband comes, what shall I say? What shall I speak? He will find me pregnant, and he will kill me, who have within me the reproach of the sin. Do you see the shipwreck that was premeditated? Do you see how great an evil sin is? What then does the king? He adds sin upon sin. For the account of the narrative must be expanded. Uriah, her husband, came from the war, and Uriah went in to the king. And the king says to him: What is it, Uriah? How is the war? He says: Well; we have conquered. The king heard that the soldier had conquered, and he himself was defeated; the soldier had subdued the war, and the king was defeated by pleasure; the soldier had prevailed over the war, but he himself had been cast down by sin; the soldier was proclaiming the victory, but he himself, from shame, did not even dare to speak of the defeat. We have conquered, he says, and we have prevailed. The king was at a loss; he did not perceive the victory of the war because of the shame of the defeat by which he himself was defeated. He says to the soldier: Go to your house; bathe, and enjoy a meal, and enjoy your wife. Why? So that he might conceal the wound, so that the child might be thought to be born from him. But the sleepless eye did not permit this to happen, sparing the wounded one.

What then does the soldier say? "How can I leave you and indulge myself? Israel is in the war, the commander-in-chief is in the battle line, the ark of the Lord is in the camp, and I am to go to my house and intend to indulge myself?" The soldier said these things in ignorance. But it became a reproach to the king, that the soldier, having come from the war, did not even wish to see his own house, while the king had committed such transgressions as to impose necessity on his own soldier to behold his own wife, so that he might conceal his own wound. He went off to the war, and the child was born. What then does he do? Since he could not conceal the sore, he writes to the general of the war: "Take Uriah and station him in the strong part of the war." Why? So that he might be killed. And he entrusts the letter to him. O the licentiousness! To what savagery did that sin lead that most gentle man! The wronged man carried the sword against himself, and he bore a letter full of blood, and went off. For I must cut it short. What then happens? In the war he fell, he was slain. Behold two sins: adultery and murder. Murder became the fruit of adultery.

6. I say this for the sake of sinners who are conscious of many evils in themselves, so that hearing this they may not despair of their own salvation. For it is written: "You shall not kill, you shall not commit adultery." He transgressed these two first commandments. He committed adultery, and then he killed the one who had been wronged. The wound is grievous, the injury great. Since Uriah went off to war and was slain, and the sin that had been concealed immediately sprang forth, then at last the prophet Nathan went to him. The desire was fulfilled, the lawlessness was completed, the wronged man was killed. A prophet rebukes a prophet. Why? Yet David was a prophet; how then does he not heal himself? Just as physicians, when they are ill, need other physicians, and illness impairs their art, so too here: that one was a prophet, this one is a prophet. But that one was not lying on a bed, but was caught up in sin. They say to him: "Nathan the prophet is outside." He says: "Let him enter." The prophet enters. He sees him sitting with great splendor and royal pride. And what does he say? "I have a case, O king; hear me." O the wisdom of the physician! He entered carrying a scalpel to cut the wound, but he does not show it to the patient, lest he be deprived of the treatment; he conceals it within, not under his garment, but under the drama of the narrative. For as soon as he entered, he did not say to him: "O lawless one, O profane one, O adulterer, O murderer!" He does not bare the reproach, nor does he employ frankness without a mask; but he carries the hidden iron and says: "I have a case, O king; hear me.

So what does the king do? "Pronounce the sentence," he says. And he says: There was a certain rich man; he had many flocks and herds. And there was a certain poor man. Two men, Uriah and David. Learn the characters in the truth. The poor man had only one ewe lamb (he means the woman who was seduced), which ate from his table, drank from his cup, and slept in his bosom. Do you see that poverty is a foundation for affection? For among the rich there is much pride; but among the poor, the wife becomes a servant and attendant, and when she bears a child, she becomes both mother and nurse. But among the rich it is not so; rather, when she bears a child, she gives it away, and pride cuts off affection. The mother gives birth, but does not become a nurse. For the mother is ashamed to become a nurse. But Christ is not like this. For he gave birth to us, and he himself became our nurse. Therefore, instead of food, he nourished us with his own flesh, and instead of drink, he gave us his own blood to drink. So the ewe lamb slept in his bosom. The tragedy was heightened by the description of the affection. Then a stranger came to that rich man. Who is the stranger?

Lust. So, in order to show his decency, he called lust a stranger by way of the story. For he never broke into another's marriage, nor did he look with unjust eyes; but, wounded by that woman, he lost his decency, and having relaxed a little, he fell from what was fitting. The stranger came—that unbridled, bestial lust came to him. A stranger came to that rich man, and did not take from his flocks and herds, but sent and took that lamb, which was sleeping in the poor man's bosom and eating from his table. What then? The king became angry. For he thought he was judging another's case. The king became angry, and pronounced the just sentence with great brilliance. For it was not affection that was corrupting justice. "By the sword," he says, "he shall die, and he shall pay fourfold for the lamb." He commands beyond the law. For the law commands that the thief pay fourfold; but he has exceeded the law, for he commands both that he be put to death and that he pay fourfold. He delivered the verdict and completed the condemnation. Then the prophet throws off the mask and says: "You are the king, O king." Oh, the incision—not cutting the sensation of pain with a sword, but in the brevity of the rebuke! For when it was necessary, he acted out the drama; but when there was need of rebuke, he immediately gave it and cut off, not causing much pain: "You are the king, O king." What then does he do? "I have sinned against the Lord." Do you see, even in the sickness, the nobility of the soul? He did not say to him: "O wretched and miserable one," nor did he wish to rebuke him openly.

What then does the king say? I have sinned against the Lord. And what does the prophet say? And the Lord has taken away your sin. Repentance is swift, but forgiveness is swifter. Speak your transgressions first, he says, so that you may be justified. You sinned by deeds, and repent by words. 7. I say these things so that sinners and those who have fallen into sins may hear and not despair of their own salvation. I have sinned, he says, against the Lord. And the Lord has taken away your sin. You said, A sword will fall upon him; but I say, You will not die. Do you see how God dissolved the prophet’s judgment? Speak your transgressions first, so that you may be justified. But let us go back to the beginning. A psalm for David, when Nathan the prophet came to him. Here his gratitude and forgiveness are shown. See then, you have learned how he was healed and what remedy he received. When God acquits, who condemns? For he did not say, I forgive, but, The Lord has taken away your sin. He cut the wound, he healed the injury. You will not die, he says. Having said these things, he departed. I wish then to show also his gratitude and the correction of his mind, what forgiveness of the sin he received, what remission of the offense he found. For when Uriah came from the campaign and announced the victory of the war to the king, the king, wishing to hide the wronged man from the fact that he had committed adultery with his wife, exerted such great effort to conceal the sin that he even wove murder together with adultery.

And after this he became a philosopher from repentance, he who previously concealed his own sin came to repentance; and after the forgiveness that came from God's assent, after the prophet came and said, "The Lord has taken away your sin, you will not die," not only does he not hide the passion, but after this he made it known to all generations, and wrote a psalm, so that those after this might learn how great a tragedy the passion holds. For since repentance came, it brought boldness. "I was saved," he says; "why should not others also be saved through my account? God forgave me. For this reason I write these things, so that they may learn both the wound and the remedy. I do not fear shame, since I desire my own salvation." So also Paul does: the sins forgiven him he exposes, and says, "I have gratitude to Christ who strengthened me, that he considered me faithful—me who was formerly a blasphemer and persecutor and insulter, now he considered me faithful. For this reason I expose myself, so that if anyone is an unbearable blasphemer, he may see that he has hope of salvation.

And you, O David, because you committed adultery and murder, and received forgiveness from God, do you therefore expose yourself? Yes, he says, so that if anyone is an adulterer and a murderer, he may learn how he can obtain salvation. For this reason he lays aside the sin and accepted repentance. This, then, is the only point at issue: that he made it clear to all and was corrected. Or is there something else? Yes, there is something else; and how, I will tell you. For just as you have heard that repentance brings great forgiveness, and brings us great and abundant confidence, so it is necessary for you to learn this as well: that he who is wrapped in many sins also possesses great shame, and is not content with repentance alone, but fears and trembles lest he fall into the same things again. I wish, then, to show that the psalm reveals to you not only the sinner, but also the penitent. And I will tell you this so that no one may be confident in himself after repentance, but rather may more carefully secure his own salvation in the harbor. I wish, then, to show that he was healed and became better than himself, and more capable and stronger. How, then, after this desire did he again fall into another sickness? Again war, again sin, again battle, again a contest, again desire came upon him, again a war was stirred up, a grievous war, and armies stood arrayed.

There was a spring in that place. And since the war was fierce, David saw her and was brought down by a most grievous thirst; he therefore desired to drink. Again desire, but not forbidden: then of the body, now of water. He desired to drink, he was burning with thirst, and he says, "I thirst, I am perishing." So some of those wishing to serve him went, and brought him water at the cost of their blood, and through the enemy they conveyed the water. But when the water was brought, the king reflected on what he had done, that in that war he had not restrained his thirst. And what did he do? Taking the water, he did not drink, but poured it out as an offering to God. For it seemed not to be water, but blood, attending not to the nature but to the intention. Do you see, then, how, having been disciplined by the former desire, he later became more self-controlled? He who desires bodies does not desire water; rather, he did desire it, but he restrained himself. For I do not say that he was free of desire, but that he overcame desire by philosophy, and did not touch it. 8. I advise these things for those who fornicate. Have you fallen in love with a prostitute? Have you fornicated? Do you wish to repent? Do not add sin to sin, and do not say to me, "How can I not fornicate?" I tell you how you can. Does desire burn you? But you have a wife; and if you do not have one, take one, so that you may have pleasure with safety. But I cannot restrain myself. But these things are from indolence. For when I bring you another who does not have a wife but is chaste, what excuse or what pardon do you have? He in the open sea does not suffer shipwreck, and you in the harbor suffer the fall?

You have a wife, and you fornicate—or rather, commit adultery? And how am I to get the better of this sore, he says. Enjoy your wife. Shall I enjoy my wife? Yes. Consider what the blessed Paul says: On account of fornications, let each man have his own wife, and each woman her own husband. The wife does not have authority over her own body, but the husband does; likewise, the husband does not have authority over his own body, but the wife does. Therefore, if a prostitute summons you, consider the saying with respect to yourself, and say: The husband does not have authority over his own body, but the wife does; and write the saying in your heart, and say to the prostitute: Why do you summon me? The body is not mine, but my wife’s; I dare not, then, betray what belongs to another. I dare not diminish her dowry, nor dare I squander her possessions, and shall I dare to defile the body? How? I cannot. Say to the prostitute: Why do you summon me? You will not approach it; for this is not mine, it is another’s. Is the body of the prostitute not hers? I do not accept the body of a prostitute; this is my wife’s. Fear Christ, and say: Our bodies are members of Christ. Let women also hear this, and consider where Christ has called them—that it is altogether in sanctification—and let them say: The wife does not have authority over her own body, but the husband does. Consider what Paul’s wisdom says.

Since many practice continence and have chaste and temperate wives, and yet their continence becomes, contrary to expectation, a pretext for adultery, for this reason he says: Let each enjoy his own wife. And he is not ashamed, but enters and sits down on the marriage bed night and day, and holds the husband and the wife, and thus unites them, and cries out and shouts: Do not deprive one another, unless it be by mutual agreement. You practice continence, and you do not wish to sleep with your husband, and he does not enjoy you? He goes away and sins, and then that sin is charged to your continence. It is better for him to sleep with you than with a prostitute. Your enjoyment is not forbidden; hers is forbidden. If he sleeps with you, there is no offense; if he sleeps with her, you have lost your limbs. So he sits almost on the marriage bed of the husband and wife, and cries out: Do not deprive one another, unless it be by mutual agreement. For this reason you took a husband, for this reason you too took a wife, that you might be chaste. Do you wish to practice continence? Persuade your husband also, so that there may be two crowns, chastity and concord; so that there may not be chastity and strife, so that there may not be peace and war. For when you practice continence, and he is inflamed with desire, and Paul says, Do not fornicate, he is immediately disturbed, tossed about. Do not deprive one another, unless it be by mutual agreement. For where there is peace, there are all good things; where there is peace, chastity shines; where there is concord, continence is crowned; but where there is war, even chastity is undermined.

Do not, therefore, deprive one another, unless it be by mutual agreement. For Paul surpasses every matchmaker, the matchmaker of the world. For this reason he is not ashamed to say: Marriage is honorable in all respects, and the marriage bed is undefiled. For his Master also entered into marriage, honoring marriage by his presence, and brought gifts. For he changed water into wine. So run as much as you wish; but when you grow weary, take intercourse as a remedy, so that Satan may not tempt you. Let each, therefore, have his own wife. For there are these three things: virginity, marriage, fornication. Marriage is in the middle, fornication below, virginity above. Virginity has a crown, marriage has moderate praise, fornication has punishment and penalty. So see how you practice continence: if you can bear the weakness of the body, and do not wish to rise above the measure, lest you fall below the measure. Just as one who is about to dive enters only as far as he is able to come out, and when he enters, he considers how far he must come out, so also you should be chaste only as far as you can endure, lest you fall below the measure. And for all these things let us give thanks to Christ, because to him belongs the glory and the power, together with the Father and the Holy Spirit, now and always, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.