He who had perished in Adam had to be restored in Christ. That is why we have, at the head of the psalm, To the end, because Christ is the end to which all our hope is directed. He is our consuming interest, the object of all our wishes and desires. He is the fullness, the consummation, of all the universe. He is the very sum and pinnacle of every virtue. . . . He, and he alone of all the world, took our sins on himself in his own flesh. He is the one and only Lamb of God who took away the sins of the world.^[1] Only he wiped out our bond by the shedding of his blood. He took that bond and fastened it to his own cross. He who is all wisdom knew how to undo the ancient sin that held fast the world. He who is our redemption^[2] knew how to renew our race and free it from guilt. He who is holiness knew how to sanctify and make us holy, leading us back to grace.

Since the Lord says, for the Scripture to be fulfilled, and shows the present psalm applies to him and no one else, I consider it rash and presumptuous to develop another explanation not applicable to him.

[One] will not be able to merit the mercy of God who himself has not been merciful, nor will [one] gain any request from the divine love by his prayers who has not been humane toward the prayer of the poor.

Clearly, as often as we succor the wretched, we give to ourselves. The dispensing of our resources is our gain. For if you consider again the hope of future reward, whatever is given to the poor is reckoned as a profit. That is what the prophet states: Blessed is he who understands concerning the needy and the poor: the Lord will deliver him in the evil day.

You should recognize Christ in the needy to the extent that your resources allow. Christ our Lord gives testimony to the fact that he is the one whom we clothe, support and feed in them. That is how strongly he has recommended the poor to us.

Faith comes first, and mercy comes second. . . . Happy, therefore, is the one who understands the poverty of Christ, his utter destitution. Christ, though he was very rich, became poor for us.^[1] In his kingdom, he was rich; in his flesh, he was poor, for he took on himself the flesh of the poor. We had indeed become very poor, because, by fraud practiced on us by the serpent, we lost the rich robes of virtue and were put out of paradise. We were thrown out of our native land and banished into exile. We were even stripped of clothing. Our lovely vesture of virtue that once covered our body was snatched from us by sin. . . . Have understanding as regards the poverty of Christ, so that you may be rich; understand his weakness and suffering, so that you may become strong and whole; understand his cross, so that you will never blush for it; understand his wound, so that your wounds may be cured; understand his death, so that you may gain eternal life; understand his tomb, so that you may discover the resurrection.

Though having lordship of visible and invisible things, he had nowhere to lay his head, was born of a virgin and through lack of bed was laid in a manger. Consequently, the inspired Word declares blessed the one able to understand this poverty and filled with zeal to sing the praises as far as possible of the one who accepted it.

The Word defines blessedness for us in another way than at the beginning. For in the first psalms, to depart from evil was blessed, but here to know the good more fully is pronounced blessed. Now the nature of the good . . . is the only-begotten God, who, though he was rich, for our sake became poor.^[1] The Word here predicts his poverty in the flesh, which is pointed out to us through the Gospel account, pronouncing the one who has recognized that poverty with understanding blessed. He was poor in relation to the form of a servant^[2] but blessed in relation to the nature of deity. For in the opening words of the psalm the Word calls him needy and poor; at the end of the section he says, Blessed be the Lord God of Israel from eternity to eternity. So be it. So be it.^[3]

By evil day he refers not to it as naturally evil—a day not being evil by nature, since if it were, the day would transfer the responsibility to its creator. Instead, by evil day he refers to the one on which a person is enveloped in distress, affliction and pain or falls victim to illness or some other hazard. So he means, when such a day comes, God, who lends help, is not asleep.

The day of judgment is bitter, and we dread it. There is no one to whom it does not appear evil, because it is fraught with terror. It is the day on which the Lord will judge not only what we did in public but even our most secret actions.^[1] On that day each of us will have to show clearly what we have done and what we have thought. Therefore many will be condemned, and few will win the crown.

He comments on God’s favors to him in different ways: he will give freedom from perils, he says, will closely guard him so that he will suffer nothing, provide him with life and make him appear as blessed by the vast number of favors in the sight of everyone.

All believers live in Christ’s name, and all in their different walks of life fulfill Christ’s commandments, whether as married people or as celibates and virgins; they live the best and fullest lives the Lord’s gift enables them to live, and they do not rely on their own powers to do so but know that they may boast only in him.^[1] . . . So do not say to me, Who is able to keep such a law? He keeps it in me, he who was rich but came to the poor, indeed came as a poor man to the poor but as fullness to those who were empty. Anyone who bears all this in mind . . . does not disdain Christ’s poverty but rather understands Christ’s riches. Such a person is blessed on earth and is not delivered into the hands of that enemy who tries to persuade us that we should worship God with an eye to heavenly benefits but the devil for our earthly needs.

We can call the members of our own bodies our beds, in which our souls repose so delightfully as if in a bed. I think that is what the holy prophet had in mind when he says: You have turned his whole bed in his sickness. Blessed is he whose bed the Lord turns in his sickness in order that he who not long ago was prone to anger, an adulterer, wanton and full of every sin due to his weaknesses, becomes chaste, humble and modest when the Lord turns a body which was accustomed to evil.

Bedding suggests something to do with the earth. Every weakly soul looks for something earthly to rest on in this life, because it is too great an effort to keep the mind stretched toward God uninterruptedly. It looks for something on earth on which it can rest, where it can take time off from its efforts and lie down. This could be an attraction for innocent people just as much. We need not speak of the desires of bad people. . . . Yet because God wants us to be in love only with eternal life, he mingles bitter elements even with these innocent pleasures, so that even in them we experience distress. He overturns all our bedding. . . . We are being taught to love better things by the pain we endure in those that are inferior; the wayfarer traveling toward his homeland must not fall in love with a stable instead of home.

May the Lord help him. That even in the present time the truth of these prophetic promises may be found. Many, laboring in sickness and disease, when they leave behind their own poor and needy works, are changed for the better. For if even on a future day judgment triumphs over mercy, what a marvel it would be, if also he would turn away by his rich mercy the death which we await, and he would restore strength? Surely this is the frailty of spirit, which is received in the inner man, wherein he has determined hands or the strength to do things. Even crippled knees are healed that were not strong before to walk on the way to life. Then the mercy bequeathed to the poor heals and revives the spirit held back by its grave disease of folly and brought to death from its sin. He, therefore, immediately added: I said: Lord, have mercy on me, heal my soul, because I have sinned against you.

Every sin is a disease of the soul, and when it spreads, the inner person’s health is impaired. He who cried out to the Physician realized his sickness, but he was healthy in understanding when he was aware of his infirmity. So he longs for his soul to be healed, that is, by remission of sins.

Your accuser goes on scoring points off you, as long as you insist on making your own excuses. So do you want to ensure that your accuser—the devil, that is—suffers and groans? Do what you have heard, do what you have learned, and say to your God, I myself have said it, Lord. Have mercy on me, heal my soul, since I have sinned against you. I myself, he says, I myself have said it; not the devil, not luck, not fate. I myself have said it. I’m not making excuses, on the contrary, I accuse myself. I have said it. Have mercy on me, heal my soul.

The reason he says, I myself have said it, Lord, is to thrust before our eyes the fact that the will and decision to sin arises from the soul and that we are fully capable of destroying ourselves, while it takes God to seek that which was lost and to save that which had wounded itself.

I am the one who is poor, he is saying, who embraced voluntary poverty, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world, who makes my own the sufferings of human beings, who though having committed no sin offers the prayer for human nature as nature’s firstfruits. It should be noted, however, that Symmachus said not because I sinned against you but even if I sinned against you.

God will heal you if only you admit your wound. You lie under the physician’s hands; patiently implore his aid. If he bathes or burns or cuts it, bear it calmly; do not even pay any attention to it, provided you are cured. Moreover, you will be cured if you present yourself to the doctor. Not that he does not see you hide, but confession is the very beginning of restoration to health.

When sinners are rebuked for their crimes . . . they do not all accept it with humility and obedience. Many do not blush to reply with most insolent boldness, saying, Am I the only one who did this? Have not those people, and those, done similar things or worse? Do not even the clergy with major orders commit such sins? Unhappy soul! A crowd of miserable people is a comfort to you. Can the individual sinner be tormented any less if immense crowds of sinners begin to be tortured in eternal punishment with him? How much better it would be for each one to flee the evil of his sins and exclaim in humble confession, I said, O Lord, be merciful to me. Heal my soul, for I have sinned against you, and, I know my iniquity, and my sin is always before me. For the good of his soul he should follow the examples of those who were honestly converted after many sins, rather than propose for imitation those who will suffer endless punishment after brief joy.

He died, but his name did not disappear; far from it. Rather was his name sown like seed. . . . As the grain was dead, the harvest sprang up. No sooner had our Lord Jesus Christ been glorified than people came to believe in him far more strongly and in much greater numbers; and then his members began to hear the same mutterings that their Head had heard. Our Lord Jesus Christ is enthroned in heaven, but in us his members he is still struggling on earth. . . . For the devil stirred up persecutions against the church to destroy the name of Christ. . . . The martyrs were killed so that Christ might suffer anew, not in himself but in his body. The holy blood was shed because it was powerful for the growth of the church, and the death of the martyrs was added to Christ’s sowing. . . . The Christians multiplied and multiplied again, and the expectations of their enemies who asked, When will he die and his name disappear? were not fulfilled. But the same thing is still being said today. . . . Still they are asking, When will he die and his name disappear? You have been proved wrong twice; at least have some sense this third time. . . . Christ foretold his own death and resurrection; he foretold the deaths of his martyrs and their crowning; he also foretold the future fortunes of his church. If he spoke truly in the first two instances, did he lie in the third?

Now, the outcome of events testifies to these things: furtively they conversed together and looked for the way to implement the plot. Then they made a charge of overthrow, saying to Pilate, He makes himself king and forbids us paying tribute to Caesar,^[1] which is what the prophecy says: They set up a lawless plan against me. That is, they leveled a charge of lawlessness against me.

Judas went out, and he spoke. He went out from the faith, he went out from the council and number of the apostles. He went out from Christ’s banquet to the villainy of Satan; he went out from the grace that sanctifies to the noose that strangles. He went to speak vain things to infidels. He went outside, leaving behind the mysteries of life that lay within. He went out, for he had never known the mysteries that are contained in Scripture.

Judas was close to our Head; he was accustomed to come in and see: to spy on him, I mean, not looking for something in which he might believe but hoping to find grounds for betrayal. . . . The same one who came in to see used to go outside and talk. If only he were inside and spoke the truth! Then he would not go outside, where he tells lies. He is a traitor and a persecutor, and after going outside, he talks. If you belong among Christ’s members, come inside and hold fast to the Head.

We need not imagine that Jesus did not know that Judas was going to betray him. . . . Of course Jesus knew it. But in order to emphasize how damnable was the deed, Jesus speaks of the hopes he had held regarding Judas’ loyalty. . . . We come down more heavily on one in whom we say we had high hopes or great trust, if afterwards that person robs us of our hope and high opinion. . . . This is why Jesus says that he had hoped, it was as though he had a right to hope. For surely one would expect an apostle to lay aside his old ways and follow new and better ways.

The one who shared the same table with me and the same food proved to be a foe the more threatening the more he concealed his malice under his close relationship. The Lord also suffered this in the case of Judas: in that case, too, it was not someone from the outer group of disciples who concocted plots but one who gave the impression of being closely related and sharing with him table and food.

O Lord, as you have raised your Son from death, so lift me from sin. Lift me, and I will repay them. In this I know that you suffered for me so that my enemies may not rejoice over me. You have not refused even to die for me. I feared you lying in the tomb, but since you have arisen my enemy will not rejoice over me. You have sustained me on account of my innocence. The church speaks in the apostles and prophets because the farmers and fishermen raised up by God, not the philosophers and teachers, have built the church that God has confirmed in his sight forever.

Notice when this prayer was made, and how it has been answered. The Jews killed Christ in order not to forfeit their national place. But after killing him they lost it; they were uprooted from their territory and dispersed. When Christ was raised from the dead he requited them with tribulation, but the recompense was dealt out as a warning, not a final condemnation.

All this was said on the part of the nature assumed, which was involved also in the passion. . . . Since, then, the assumed nature remained free of all wickedness, it was right for him to say, But you supported me for my innocence and confirmed me in your presence forever: I received a stable unity, the combining was indivisible, the glory everlasting.

You notice that he hints more clearly at the repayment here in his mentioning, not vengeance by the wronged but personal disappointment by the frustrated, which resulted in their punishing themselves on seeing the one they envied held in high esteem. His meaning here is, in fact, Show, Lord, how you care for me by their not rejoicing in the vile hopes they have for me.

What a truly holy innocence and simplicity, a truly blessed humility! . . . . He did not defend himself with any struggle. He was moving toward the cross with a peaceful spirit, going to die with a tranquil mind. He fulfilled all the words predicted by the prophets by his own undefiled integrity. He felt grief at the misfortunes of his persecutors, and when he was hung on the cross, he prayed for his enemies in an act of incredible mercy, for he had determined that all the faithful should also do this. . . . Now that he has laid aside the weakness inherent in a mortal body, the God-Man, one of two natures, also continues in these two distinct and complete natures in eternal glory. His name is above every name; his power commands heaven and earth.

God has disposed all things and ordered all things for our salvation. He foretold it before we existed, he has fulfilled it in our time, and what he has not fulfilled yet, he will. We hold fast to him as one who keeps his promises, and therefore we can believe him to be our debtor still; for as he has already given what had not been given when it was prophesied, so will he give what has not been given yet.

Be not offended, careful reader, that we draw a mystical matter from a moral explanation. For just as the Pharisees beset Judas to betray the Lord by offering him his own safety to turn him over, so also unclean spirits beset my outer man which eats my bread and offer to it now money through greed, now luxury through desire, by which, if it accepts, it fails, and when it fails they drive him to hang himself in a noose,^[1] that is, so that he despairs that he is able to be freed by repentance. But he says to them: He who sleeps, will he not arise? . . . Let us cease to harm ourselves, and let us be made innocent so that each one may say rightly to God: On account of my innocence you have sustained me, and you who had cast me away from your countenance because of sin, now through repentance strengthen me in your sight forever.

So be it, so be it is also an indication that you have reached the end of a book. The psalter appears to be divided into five books, and the first book ends with this psalm, namely, the forty-first. The forty-first psalm concludes very fittingly with the passion, just as the forty-day period of Lent concludes with the Lord’s passion. This allows the second book to begin with the mysteries of regeneration.