Psalm 151 is one of my favorite Psalms. I think it is unfortunate that most Orthodox Christians don't even know that it is in the Orthodox Scriptural canon (actually, it's not considered authoritative by all, but in the Russian Church, it's unquestionably canonical). As to why I would do an allegorical interpretation, the answer to that should be obvious: it's relevance for us is minimal except by using an allegorical interpreation.
This is a perfectly Orthodox way of viewing the Psalm, and it is common practice (especially among monastics) to interpret Psalms allegorically and pull things out that are not even hinted at if using a literal, straight-forward interpretation of the text. If allegorical interpretation of a psalm is seen as bad exegesis (or even eisegesis), then all I can say is that I am in the company of some rather saintly bad exegetes! (though of course I realise, in comparison to their writings, that my interpretation is hopelessly more carnal and shallow)
I was the smallest among my brethren, and the youngest in the house of my father
I have but a mustard seed of faith, I am a spiritual infant. Everywhere around me I look, and my brothers are all advancing further in the faith than I. I am not making a comparison out of despair, but recognizing a fact: I am lagging behind according to the world's perception of progress. As the world looks at me, I am the smallest, the least, the most backward.
I did shepherd the sheep of my father.
The world looks down on me: I have a lowly profession. Yet, I complete my job obediently, not aspiring to be "something great," but being happy with what God has seen fit to give me. My Father which is in heaven has given me various tasks, and I have tried my best to take care of what he has given me. Yet for all of this, I recognize that I am but an unprofitable servant.
My hands made an instrument, and my fingers fashioned a lyre,
I have worked and labored to communicate with God. This has been my pursuit in life: not becoming rich, but protecting the rich tapestry of truth that has been given to me; not seeking the golden coin, but following the golden rule; not love of power or wealth or beauty or anything else earthly, but love of God. Therefore, I made an instrument to sing to the Lord the melody of His own theology: I fashioned this Psalm, he fashioned this Psalm through me.
And who shall tell my Lord? The Lord Himself, He Himself shall hearken.
And how will God hear my psalm? Through beautiful singing? Through perfect chanting? No, even in silence, even in the lovely silence of my own heart, God himself will hear my instrument singing it's song. There is no need to shout to the Lord out loud, but I can instead say within me lovingly: "shut to the Lord, with all my heart I will sing, power and majesty, my psalm for my King"!
He sent forth His angel and took me from the flocks of my father, and anointed me with the oil of His anointing.
And because I followed the Lord, because I chose the spiritual riches over earthly ones, God blessed me, and raised me up to greater responsibilities. God bestowed His grace on me, confirming and strenthening my faith, and showing me diverse ways to go "further up and further in". His angel was his messenger, and his messenger was the gentle wind; it was the wind that picked me up and lifted me away; it was then that I understood the words of Saint John Chrysostom: "nothing so much gives the soul wings, and raises it on high, as the attainment of righteousness and virtue".
My brethren were tall and handsome, yet the Lord took not pleasure in them.
And so, even though all my brothers were far more advanced in the faith, and could spend hours discussing the wonders of our sacred texts, and even though they understood the truths of God far better than I: even with all this, God had pleasure because of sinful me, simple and uneducated though I am, rather than my intelligent and pious brothers. Obedient simplicity trumps head knowledge, as surely as spiritual riches far surpass earthly ones.
I went forth to meet the Philistine, and he cursed me by his idols.
But God did not shine His grace on me for no purpose, or just because I pleased Him. God saw that my enemy, Satan, was approaching me, and that he was ready to destroy me. So God prepared me for battle: he armed me with the sword of truth, and the breastplate of obedience, and the shield of love. With these weapons, I went forth to meet my enemy, Satan. He attempted to tempt me in many ways, and constantly attacked me, looking for a way to sneak through my defenses.
But I drew his own sword and beheaded him, and took away the reproach from the sons of Israel.
But Satan could find no hole in my defense, for I was standing on the Rock of Christ, which cannot be moved. Because of this, I turned his own attacks against him: for by withstanding his attacks, I actually grew stronger and more patient. Therefore, the more he attacked me, the weaker he got, and the stronger I became, by God's grace. So Satan ran away with his tail between his legs, embarrassed that someone as simple and unknowledgable as I could defeat him. He still does not understand that it was not I who defeated him, but Christ my God. Satan is still foolish enough to believe that which he believed when he attacked Saint Job: that God allowing him to act freely means that we are seperated from the power of God. The foolish creature! If he knew the Scriptures as well as he thought he did he would know that all good things came from above, and so any victory by us humans is actually nothing more than a victory through God's grace.
