Created and Claimed ~ The omnipotence of the Omniscient...

The Structure and Burden of Psalm 139

Psalm 139 is among the most intimate confessions in the Psalter. Traditionally attributed to David, it weaves together themes of divine omniscience, omnipresence, and omnipotent craftsmanship into a seamless meditation on the God who knows, surrounds, and forms the worshiper. The psalm divides naturally into four movements: first, the exhaustive knowledge of God, who searches and discerns every thought (vv. 1–6); second, His inescapable presence, whether in heaven, Sheol, or the farthest reaches of the sea (vv. 7–12); third, His creative agency in forming human life from the womb (vv. 13–16); and finally, the psalmist’s ethical response, a plea for vindication against the wicked and a request for moral guidance (vv. 17–24).

Within this architecture, verses 13–14 form the theological center of gravity. After rehearsing the ways in which God’s knowledge cannot be evaded, the psalmist turns to the most hidden and inaccessible place of all: the maternal womb. Here, the language shifts from spatial omnipresence to ontological origination. God does not merely observe life; He fashions it. He does not merely watch over human thought; He acquires the very organs of thought themselves. The vocabulary of these verses—qanah (“to create, to acquire, to possess”), kilyot (“kidneys,” the symbolic seat of conscience and hidden deliberation), and sākak (“to cover, weave, or hedge about”)—underscores a double claim: God is both artisan and sovereign. The psalmist is not only fearfully and wonderfully formed but also, from the very onset of existence, placed under the divine yoke of possession.

Thus the psalm’s structure presses the reader toward a profound theological realization: the One who knows our thoughts from afar (vv. 1–6) and who cannot be fled (vv. 7–12) is the same One who first claimed the reins of our inner life in utero (vv. 13–14). Creation and ownership converge, and the ensuing appeal for moral integrity (vv. 23–24) rests upon this foundational truth.

The Philology of Creation and Possession

The hinge of Psalm 139:13 lies in its opening verb, qanita (קָנִיתָ), a second-person perfect of qanah. The semantic breadth of this root is striking. In Genesis 14:19, God is described as “Creator [qōnēh] of heaven and earth,” where the sense is clearly “to create.”¹ Yet in Genesis 25:10, Abraham “acquires [qanah] the field,” where the meaning is transactional ownership.² The psalmist, in a single word, fuses both dimensions: God not only fashions but also claims. The rendering “possessed my reins” (KJV) captures the note of sovereignty, while modern translations such as the NIV (“created my inmost being”) emphasize origination. Both are latent in the Hebrew, and the deliberate ambiguity strengthens the theological point.

The noun kilyotai (כִלְיֹתָי, “my kidneys”), taken literally, may sound jarring to the modern ear. Yet within Hebrew anthropology the “kidneys” were a metaphor for the seat of conscience, moral reflection, and hidden deliberation.³ Jeremiah 17:10 pairs “heart” and “kidneys” as the loci God examines in His judgment, suggesting that the psalmist is not concerned with visceral organs but with the most intimate faculty of the self. Rashi, in his commentary, glosses the line as “My kidneys, the ones that think all my thoughts,” underscoring that God both created and governs the very instrument of counsel.⁴ Radak extends this further: “If You acquired them, nothing they advise is hidden from You,” drawing the possession motif to its logical conclusion—divine ownership of the human conscience itself.⁵

The parallel verb tesukkēni (תְּסֻכֵּנִי) is drawn from sākak, “to cover, weave, hedge in.”⁶ Some commentators (e.g., Metzudat David) stress its protective sense: God shelters the incipient life.⁷ Others highlight its artisanal quality: God weaves the psalmist together like embroidery in the womb.⁸ Both nuances sustain the dual reading of qanah: formation and control, artistry and sovereignty. The psalmist thus articulates not only a biological marvel—life “fearfully and wonderfully made”—but a theological claim: the self, in its innermost faculties, is both crafted and claimed, formed and possessed, woven and governed from conception onward.

Notes

¹ The Holy Scriptures According to the Masoretic Text (Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1917), Gen. 14:19.
² Ibid., Gen. 25:10.
³ Hans Walter Wolff, Anthropology of the Old Testament, trans. Margaret Kohl (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1974), 63–64.
⁴ Rashi, Commentary on Psalms 139:13, in Mikraot Gedolot (ed. M. Rosenbaum; Jerusalem: Mosad HaRav Kook, 1984), 342.
⁵ Radak (David Kimhi), Commentary on Psalms 139:13, in Mikraot Gedolot, 343.
⁶ Francis Brown, S. R. Driver, and Charles A. Briggs, A Hebrew and English Lexicon of the Old Testament (Oxford: Clarendon, 1907), 697.
⁷ Metzudat David, Commentary on Psalms 139:13, in Mikraot Gedolot, 344.
⁸ Robert Alter, The Book of Psalms: A Translation with Commentary (New York: W. W. Norton, 2007), 480.

Comparative Renderings in Greek and Latin

The interpretive history of Psalm 139:13–14 moves decisively through the great translation traditions of the church: the Greek Septuagint and the Latin Vulgate. Each preserves the Hebrew core while shading its meaning toward different theological emphases.

The Septuagint renders qanita as ἐκτήσω (ektēsō), a form of ktaomai, “to acquire, obtain, possess.”¹ In this translation the note of divine ownership comes to the fore. Rather than simply stressing creation, the Greek emphasizes acquisition, as though the psalmist were God’s rightful property. The Hebrew kilyotai is preserved literally as νεφρούς (“kidneys”), retaining the visceral imagery of the inner self. For tesukkēni, the translators chose ἀντελάβου (“you took hold / supported”), a verb that stresses both grasp and aid.² Verse 14 follows with ἐθαυμαστώθην (“I was made wondrously”) and φοβερῶς (“awesomely”), which preserve the numinous awe of the Hebrew text. The overall effect of the LXX is to highlight not only God’s craftsmanship but also His claim of possession and His sustaining intervention.

Jerome’s Vulgate follows the Septuagint closely but introduces its own nuances. Qanita kilyotai becomes possedisti renes meos (“You possessed my kidneys”), an unambiguous declaration of ownership.³ The verb tesukkēni is rendered as suscepisti me de utero matris meae (“You received me from my mother’s womb”), which stresses not weaving or covering but the act of taking up, receiving, sustaining. Verse 14 then reads terribiliter magnificatus sum (“I have been magnified in a fearful way”), with mirabilia opera tua (“wonderful are your works”). The Latin not only confirms the possession motif of the LXX but also tilts toward celebration and magnification, presenting human life as an exalted testimony to God’s wonder.

Patristic commentators followed these renderings closely. Origen, reflecting on the Septuagint, interprets ektēsō as indicating God’s juridical acquisition of the person, a claim of lordship from the very womb.⁴ Augustine, relying on the Vulgate, reads possedisti renes meos as a recognition that God has dominion over the secret places of conscience, where human motives are born.⁵ The trajectory from Hebrew to Greek to Latin therefore reinforces the dual note already present in the Masoretic text: God as artisan who fashions, and God as sovereign who possesses. To be “fearfully and wonderfully made” is not merely to marvel at the biology of human life but to acknowledge the divine claim over its hidden reins.

Notes

¹ Alfred Rahlfs, ed., Septuaginta (Stuttgart: Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft, 1935), Ps. 138:13 (LXX numbering).
² Joseph Ziegler, Psalmi cum Odis (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1987), 410.
³ Biblia Sacra Vulgata, ed. Robert Weber and Roger Gryson, 5th ed. (Stuttgart: Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft, 2007), Ps. 138:13 (Vulgate numbering).
⁴ Origen, Homilies on the Psalms, in Patrologia Graeca, vol. 12, col. 1085.
⁵ Augustine, Enarrationes in Psalmos, in Corpus Christianorum Series Latina, vol. 38, 200 (on Ps. 138:13–14).

Classic Jewish Exegesis

The Jewish exegetical tradition is particularly rich on Psalm 139:13–14, because the verses touch the deepest questions of divine sovereignty, human formation, and conscience. Rabbinic commentators consistently interpret the vocabulary not only as a testimony of God’s artistry but also as a declaration of His lordship over the hidden faculties of the human self.

Rashi (1040–1105) interprets kilyotai (“my kidneys”) as the organs that “think all my thoughts.”¹ This gloss highlights the ancient Israelite view of the kidneys as the seat of deliberation and moral reflection, comparable to what later philosophy would call the “faculty of conscience.” By ascribing them to God’s creative act, the psalmist acknowledges that even the most private movements of thought belong to Him.

Radak (David Kimhi, c. 1160–1235) goes further, emphasizing the possessive sense of qanita: “If You acquired them, nothing they advise is hidden from You.”² Here the double meaning of qanah becomes explicit. God not only made the kidneys but also owns them, and by extension claims sovereignty over the thoughts that arise within them. The implication is not merely that God foreknows human deliberation but that He has rightful dominion over the very instruments of counsel.

Metzudat David (17th century) underscores the protective nuance of sākak (“covered, wove”): “My kidneys are acquired by You because You created them, though they are in the body’s most hidden place… You sheltered me in my mother’s womb.”³ This interpretation preserves both aspects of the Hebrew root—artisanal weaving and protective covering—and reads them together as testimony to God’s creative craftsmanship and providential care.

The Aramaic Targum on the Psalms adds yet another layer by paraphrasing the verse: “You acquired my kidneys; You sustained me in my mother’s belly.”⁴ Here the translation accentuates sustenance and preservation, aligning with the later Vulgate’s suscepisti. The psalmist’s life is not merely created and claimed, but also upheld.

Taken together, these strands of Jewish interpretation coalesce around a theological point that anticipates our broader thesis: to be “fearfully and wonderfully made” is to be formed and possessed, woven and ruled, sheltered and sustained. The psalmist stands not only as a marvel of divine artistry but also as a subject under the divine yoke from the very dawn of life.

Notes

¹ Rashi, Commentary on Psalms 139:13, in Mikraot Gedolot (ed. M. Rosenbaum; Jerusalem: Mosad HaRav Kook, 1984), 342.
² Radak (David Kimhi), Commentary on Psalms 139:13, in Mikraot Gedolot, 343.
³ Metzudat David, Commentary on Psalms 139:13, in Mikraot Gedolot, 344.
⁴ Targum Psalms, in Edward M. Cook, The Psalms Targum: An English Translation (Leiden: Brill, 2001), 312.

Selected Christian and Modern Scholarship

Christian commentators, both patristic and scholastic, read Psalm 139:13–14 through the lens of the Septuagint and Vulgate traditions. The consistent emphasis is that the psalmist’s confession affirms not only the marvel of divine artistry but also God’s dominion over the hidden depths of human conscience.

Augustine, working from the Vulgate, interprets possedisti renes meos as a declaration of divine sovereignty over the secret recesses of the soul: “You possessed my reins, for nothing in me is hidden from You.”¹ For Augustine, the reins symbolize the moral faculty by which a person is guided, and God’s possession of them confirms His lordship over both thought and will. In the Confessions, he echoes this theme when he insists that God “was within me more inward than my inmost part.”²

Thomas Aquinas, in his Summa Theologiae, cites Psalm 138 (Vulgate numbering) to argue that the human soul is immediately created by God and subject to His governance.³ The verse demonstrates, for Aquinas, not only God’s creative act but His providential claim: “For He who fashioned the interior powers of man also directs them.” The psalm thereby supports his broader theology of divine causality and providence.

Among modern commentators, Hermann Gunkel underscores the psalm’s movement from God’s omniscience to His role as creator and possessor of life in the womb.⁴ Hans-Joachim Kraus reads verses 13–14 as “the fundamental declaration of God’s creative sovereignty” and emphasizes that “the organs of moral deliberation are not man’s own property but belong to the Creator.”⁵ Robert Alter, more literary in orientation, highlights the artistry of the verse, noting that “the language of weaving suggests both intimacy and control: life is fashioned and bound within divine design.”⁶ John Goldingay stresses the pastoral application: “The one who weaves us is also the one who rules us, and therefore no thought or counsel is beyond His command.”⁷

Across these traditions—patristic, scholastic, and modern—the consensus is clear: the psalmist proclaims a double truth. To be “fearfully and wonderfully made” is to be a work of awe-inspiring craftsmanship, and to be “possessed in the reins” is to be under God’s rightful sovereignty from the beginning.

Notes

¹ Augustine, Enarrationes in Psalmos, in Corpus Christianorum Series Latina, vol. 38 (Turnhout: Brepols, 1956), 200.
² Augustine, Confessions, trans. Henry Chadwick (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1991), 43.
³ Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, I.q.90 a.2 (New York: Benziger Brothers, 1947).
⁴ Hermann Gunkel, Die Psalmen (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1926), 599.
⁵ Hans-Joachim Kraus, Psalms 60–150: A Commentary, trans. Hilton C. Oswald (Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1989), 514.
⁶ Robert Alter, The Book of Psalms: A Translation with Commentary (New York: W. W. Norton, 2007), 480.
⁷ John Goldingay, Psalms: Volume 3, Psalms 90–150 (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2008), 635.

Theological Synthesis: Fearfully, Wonderfully Formed and Under Yoke

Psalm 139:13–14 has long been read as a hymn to God’s artistry, a celebration of the wonder of human life. Yet when the philological, rabbinic, and Christian traditions are held together, the text presses beyond marvel into sovereignty. To be “fearfully and wonderfully made” is to be both created and claimed, fashioned and governed.

The Hebrew verb qanah fuses these dimensions. It signals God as both the artisan who shapes the human person and the master who acquires ownership of the inmost faculties.¹ The psalmist’s use of kilyotai (“my kidneys”) underscores this possession. In Israelite anthropology, the kidneys were the seat of conscience and counsel.² When the psalmist confesses, “You acquired my kidneys,” he acknowledges that God lays claim to the very center of his moral life. Rashi and Radak, in different ways, both read this as divine sovereignty over human deliberation itself.³

The weaving metaphor of sākak deepens the point. To be “covered” or “woven” in the womb is not only to be protected but also to be bound into a fabric that God Himself designs.⁴ The Septuagint renders this with verbs of acquisition and support (ἐκτήσω, ἀντελάβου), and the Vulgate confirms it with possedisti and suscepisti.⁵ From conception, the human being is both wondrously fashioned and juridically possessed. Origen reads this as God’s juridical claim upon life,⁶ and Augustine as His dominion over the hidden places of conscience.⁷

The theological import is clear: the psalmist is not free-standing clay but yoked clay, shaped by the Potter who also owns the vessel. This resonates with Christ’s later words, “Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me… for my yoke is easy, and my burden is light” (Matt. 11:29–30).⁸ The yoke of Christ is not an alien imposition but the fitting rule of the One who already possesses the reins of the human soul. To confess being “fearfully and wonderfully made” is therefore to confess both ontological dependence and moral accountability.

The psalm, then, is not merely a hymn to life’s biological marvel but a testimony of covenantal sovereignty. To be formed in the womb is to be placed under the divine yoke from the start. Creation entails possession; possession entails guidance; guidance entails obedience. This is the theological heart of Psalm 139:13–14: God both makes and masters, both weaves and reigns.

Notes

¹ Francis Brown, S. R. Driver, and Charles A. Briggs, A Hebrew and English Lexicon of the Old Testament (Oxford: Clarendon, 1907), 888.
² Hans Walter Wolff, Anthropology of the Old Testament, trans. Margaret Kohl (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1974), 63–64.
³ Rashi, Commentary on Psalms 139:13, in Mikraot Gedolot (ed. M. Rosenbaum; Jerusalem: Mosad HaRav Kook, 1984), 342; Radak (David Kimhi), Commentary on Psalms 139:13, in Mikraot Gedolot, 343.
⁴ Robert Alter, The Book of Psalms: A Translation with Commentary (New York: W. W. Norton, 2007), 480.
⁵ Alfred Rahlfs, ed., Septuaginta (Stuttgart: Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft, 1935), Ps. 138:13; Biblia Sacra Vulgata, ed. Robert Weber and Roger Gryson, 5th ed. (Stuttgart: Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft, 2007), Ps. 138:13.
⁶ Origen, Homilies on the Psalms, in Patrologia Graeca, vol. 12, col. 1085.
⁷ Augustine, Enarrationes in Psalmos, in Corpus Christianorum Series Latina, vol. 38 (Turnhout: Brepols, 1956), 200.
⁸ The Holy Bible, New Revised Standard Version (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1989), Matt. 11:29–30.

Comparative Renderings Across Traditions

When verses 13–14 move across the great translation traditions—Hebrew, Greek, Latin, and English—their theological resonance deepens. The Hebrew root qanah holds together the dual sense of creation and possession. It describes God as the one who fashions the psalmist’s inner self and simultaneously acquires rightful ownership of it. The Septuagint sharpens this note of sovereignty by rendering the verb as ektēsō, “you acquired,”² which makes possession the foregrounded image. Jerome’s Vulgate continues the line with possedisti, “you possessed,”³ so that divine ownership stands unmistakably at the center of the verse. English translations have oscillated between these emphases: the King James preserves the older idiom of possession—“thou hast possessed my reins”—while modern versions such as the NIV prefer the language of creation, “you created my inmost being.” The Hebrew ambiguity is not lost but rather magnified by the interpretive history.¹

The term kilyot, literally “kidneys,” illustrates the continuity across languages. In Israelite thought the kidneys symbolized the seat of conscience and counsel.⁴ The Septuagint retained the image with nephrous, and the Vulgate with renes. English first carried it forward as “reins” before adopting the more accessible “inward parts.” The persistence of this image in Greek and Latin shows that early translators resisted the temptation to paraphrase; they chose instead to carry over the visceral metaphor of an inner faculty belonging to God.

A similar dynamic appears in the treatment of sākak. In Hebrew the verb suggests both weaving and covering, combining artisanal and protective senses. The Septuagint chose antelabou, “you took hold of me,”² stressing God’s sustaining grasp. The Vulgate rendered it as suscepisti, “you received me,”³ a word that carries the nuance of sustaining or taking up. English translations balance both, the King James saying “thou hast covered me” and modern versions such as the NRSV and NIV rendering “you knit me together.” What remains constant is the image of God’s intimate involvement in the very fabric of embryonic life.

The climactic phrase of verse 14—“fearfully and wonderfully made”—has also traveled intact through the centuries. Hebrew norā’ōt nifleiti conveys awe and wonder,⁵ the Greek phoberōs ethaumastōthēn mirrors it closely, and the Latin terribiliter magnificatus sum intensifies it into “fearfully magnified.” English has consistently retained the twin adjectives as a hallmark of the psalm’s doxology. The closing refrain—“wonderful are your works”—likewise resonates across Hebrew (niflā’īm ma‘asekha), Greek (thaumasta), Latin (mirabilia opera tua), and English.

Thus the trajectory from Hebrew to Greek to Latin to English shows remarkable fidelity yet subtle shifts of emphasis. The Hebrew allows both creation and possession. The Greek and Latin push possession and sustenance to the forefront. English oscillates, holding the tension between artistry and ownership. The enduring theological meaning is that human beings are not only marvelously formed but rightfully possessed; their innermost selves are both woven by divine artistry and governed by divine sovereignty.

Notes

¹ Francis Brown, S. R. Driver, and Charles A. Briggs, A Hebrew and English Lexicon of the Old Testament (Oxford: Clarendon, 1907), 888.
² Alfred Rahlfs, ed., Septuaginta (Stuttgart: Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft, 1935), Ps. 138:13.
³ Biblia Sacra Vulgata, ed. Robert Weber and Roger Gryson, 5th ed. (Stuttgart: Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft, 2007), Ps. 138:13.
⁴ Hans Walter Wolff, Anthropology of the Old Testament, trans. Margaret Kohl (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1974), 63–64.
⁵ Robert Alter, The Book of Psalms: A Translation with Commentary (New York: W. W. Norton, 2007), 480.

Pastoral-Ethical Trajectory

Psalm 139 is not a speculative treatise but a confession of faith, spoken in prayer. Its central affirmation—that God both forms and possesses the psalmist—carries profound pastoral and ethical consequences.

First, the psalm grounds human dignity in divine craftsmanship. To be “fearfully and wonderfully made” is to bear the mark of divine artistry.¹ Yet this dignity is not autonomy but dependence. The same God who weaves life in the womb also acquires and governs the conscience. Creation entails possession. This dual truth undermines both the arrogance of self-sufficiency and the despair of worthlessness: no life is self-originating, and no life is without value.

Second, the psalm roots moral accountability in divine ownership. The imagery of the kidneys as the seat of counsel implies that our innermost deliberations are not private property but under God’s claim.² This resonates with the prophetic refrain that the Lord “tests the heart and kidneys” (Jer. 17:10). To live under God’s possession is to recognize that motives and decisions are measured by His standard, not our own.

Third, the psalm anticipates the language of discipleship in the New Testament. When Christ says, “Take my yoke upon you” (Matt. 11:29), He does not offer a new master but reveals the true Master already present from conception.³ The “yoke” is not alien subjugation but the rightful rule of the One who has held the reins all along. Thus the call to obedience is not a surrender to foreign authority but a return to the Creator who formed and possessed the conscience from the beginning.

Finally, the psalm leads naturally to doxology. Its intent is not to produce anxiety about divine ownership but to inspire awe and praise: “I will confess You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; wonderful are Your works, and my soul knows it very well.” To acknowledge God as both artisan and sovereign is to be drawn into worship that recognizes His majesty and entrusts itself to His guidance.

Notes

¹ Robert Alter, The Book of Psalms: A Translation with Commentary (New York: W. W. Norton, 2007), 480.
² Hans Walter Wolff, Anthropology of the Old Testament, trans. Margaret Kohl (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1974), 63–64.
³ The Holy Bible, New Revised Standard Version (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1989), Matt. 11:29.

Artisan and Sovereign...

Psalm 139:13–14 crystallizes the theology of the entire psalm. The God who searches and knows (vv. 1–6) and who cannot be fled (vv. 7–12) is the very God who both forms and possesses the human person from the womb. The language of kidneys, weaving, awe, and wonder is not a poetic flourish alone but a theological declaration: the Creator is also the Possessor. The Hebrew qanah binds these truths together, speaking of God as both artisan and sovereign.¹

The translation traditions magnify this double emphasis. The Septuagint’s ektēsō presses the nuance of acquisition,² Jerome’s possedisti confirms ownership,³ and the Vulgate’s suscepisti adds the note of sustaining care. Rabbinic voices such as Rashi and Radak underline that the kidneys symbolize conscience, the hidden faculty of counsel itself under God’s dominion.⁴ Christian theologians, from Augustine’s insistence on God’s mastery over the hidden heart⁵ to Aquinas’s doctrine of divine governance,⁶ carried forward the same theme: to be created is simultaneously to be claimed.

The pastoral implication is both comforting and demanding. Comforting, because no human life is without value, every soul is fearfully and wonderfully wrought by divine craftsmanship. Demanding, because no human conscience is autonomous; the reins of thought and motive belong already to God. The psalmist’s final prayer, “Search me, O God, and know my heart” (v. 23), arises from this realization. The God who created the hidden self also governs it. To confess this is to embrace the yoke of the One who wove us, acknowledging both dignity and accountability under His hand.

Thus the theological heart of Psalm 139 is not only wonder at life’s beginning but submission to God’s sovereignty from the beginning. Human existence is miracle and mastery, artistry and authority. To be “fearfully and wonderfully made” is to be formed by God’s hand and ruled by His reins. Thus the psalmist’s final cry, ‘Lead me in the way everlasting,’ is the natural response of one who confesses both the wonder and the yoke of divine possession.

Notes

¹ Francis Brown, S. R. Driver, and Charles A. Briggs, A Hebrew and English Lexicon of the Old Testament (Oxford: Clarendon, 1907), 888.
² Alfred Rahlfs, ed., Septuaginta (Stuttgart: Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft, 1935), Ps. 138:13.
³ Biblia Sacra Vulgata, ed. Robert Weber and Roger Gryson, 5th ed. (Stuttgart: Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft, 2007), Ps. 138:13.
⁴ Rashi, Commentary on Psalms 139:13, in Mikraot Gedolot (ed. M. Rosenbaum; Jerusalem: Mosad HaRav Kook, 1984), 342; Radak (David Kimhi), Commentary on Psalms 139:13, in Mikraot Gedolot, 343.
⁵ Augustine, Enarrationes in Psalmos, in Corpus Christianorum Series Latina, vol. 38 (Turnhout: Brepols, 1956), 200.
⁶ Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, I.q.90 a.2 (New York: Benziger Brothers, 1947).

om tat sat