The Song of Songs.
A Brief Exposition of the Song of Solomon
Hamilton Smith.
Contents.
Introduction
Canticle 1.
Canticle 2.
Canticle 3.
Canticle 4.
Canticle 5.
Canticle 6.
Note
The following Exposition is reprinted from "Scripture Truth" (1918), with some slight revisions and additions. The text used is mainly that of the late J. N. Darby's "New Translation." Headings have been added to indicate the different speakers.
The Song of Songs.
Introduction.
1. The Song of Songs, which is Solomon's.
Christ is the great theme of all Scripture, and, in its several parts, the Holy Spirit delights to set forth special aspects of Christ and His glories. Here, in the Song of Songs, His great object is to present the love of Christ for His people.
To set forth this love the Spirit of God has employed the bridal relationship as a figure. In a series of Canticles we have unfolded to us the love of an exalted Bridegroom for a bride of low degree, together with the varied experiences by which she is brought into full relationship with him, and the enjoyment of his love.
The Bridegroom is a king called Solomon or Shelomoh. The bride is a shepherdess called The Shulamite or Shulamith, — the feminine form of Shelomoh.
The song is mainly composed of a series of dialogues between the Bridegroom and the bride. There are other characters introduced, for instance the daughters of Jerusalem occasionally speak; also we have the city watchmen, the keepers of the walls, and the little sister, but these characters take little or no part in the dialogues. In the course of these dialogues we have, first, the unfolding of the infinite and unchanging love of the Bridegroom; second, the development and growth of the love of the bride, and how she is established in relationship with the Bridegroom, brought into the enjoyment of his love and raised from her lowly position to share the throne of the king — her exalted Bridegroom.
Few will question that in the Bridegroom we have a figure of Christ. Some may have more difficulty in the interpretation of the bride. Strictly, however, there can be little doubt that the bride is used as a figure of God's earthly people Israel (or more exactly the godly remnant of the Jews in a future day, who will represent Israel) and the experiences by which they will be finally established in relationship with their Messiah.
The Bridegroom and the bride are figures frequently used by the prophets to set forth this relationship. The prophet Isaiah, looking on to this time, can say, "As the Bridegroom rejoiceth over the bride, so shall thy God rejoice over thee" (Isa. 62: 5). The Lord speaking through the prophet Hosea, and looking on to Israel's future restoration, touchingly says, "I will allure her, and bring her into the wilderness and speak to her heart," and then, her affections having been awakened, He can say to her, "I will betroth thee unto Me for ever; yea, I will betroth thee unto Me in righteousness, and in judgment, and in loving kindness, and in mercies. I will even betroth thee unto Me in faithfulness: and thou shalt know the Lord" (Hosea 2: 14, 19, 20). In the Song of Songs it is these very wilderness experiences, wherein the Lord speaks to the heart of His people, that pass before us in figure.
While however the prophets are concerned mainly with the exercise of conscience by which the godly remnant of the Jews will be led to repentance for having rejected and crucified their Messiah, it is reserved for this one book — the Song of Songs — to present their exercise of heart, and the awakening of their affections by the unfolding of Christ's devoted love — the love which once they had spurned.
This interpretation requires for its acceptance some acquaintance with the future history of Israel as set forth in the Old and New Testament prophecies. Therein we learn that the Jews will go back to their land in unbelief, hoping thereby to find deliverance from oppression, and rest from persecution. In result they will find themselves in such trouble as never was since there was a nation, and never will be again. The northern powers will press upon them from without, and the Beast will oppress them within. Having rejected Christ, they will accept the rule of Antichrist, who, not regarding the God of his fathers, will set up "a god whom his fathers knew not." With the "abomination of desolation" standing in the holy place, they will fall into the grossest idolatry, their last state being worse than their first.
But in the midst of the apostate nation there will be a remnant with whom the Spirit of God will work. This remnant will be afflicted, hated of all nations for the sake of Christ's name which they confess, and many of their number killed. Because of these persecutions some will be offended, and the love of many will wax cold. But God will work on their behalf, and for their sakes the days of the great tribulation will be shortened.
Now it is this remnant that comes before us, under the figure of the bride, in the Song of Songs, and the way in which God, in the midst of all their sorrows, will speak to their hearts and awaken their affections.
But while such is the strict interpretation of the Song of Songs, this by no means hinders its application to the church — the heavenly bride — or to the individual believer. For in God's dealing with all His people there are principles in common. Speaking of the Canticles another has said, "Christ loves His assembly, He loves His earthly people, He loves the soul that He draws to Himself so that there is a moral application to ourselves which is very precious" (J.N.D.). It is this moral application to the individual believer that is mainly in view in the following exposition.
The Song can be divided into six Canticles, the subjects of which may be summarized as follows: —
Canticle 1. (Cant. 1: 2-2: 7): The assurance of love.
Canticle 2. (Cant. 2: 8-3: 5): The awakening of love.
Canticle 3. (Cant. 3: 6-5: 1): The communion of love.
Canticle 4. (Cant. 5: 2-6: 12): The restoration of love.
Canticle 5. (Cant. 6: 13-8: 4): The witness of love.
Canticle 6. (Cant. 8: 5-14): The triumph of love.
Thus, it will be seen, LOVE is the great theme of the Song of Songs — the love of Christ. Under the figures of the Bridegroom and the bride it speaks of all those sweet affections that Christ kindles in the hearts of His own. What more important than having the affections drawn out to Christ! We often mourn that there is little love among the Lord's people, but, alas, this tells a tale of little love to the Lord Himself. And if there is little love to the Lord, is it not because there is little appreciation of the Lord's love to us? The measure of our love to the Lord, is the measure in which we realize the Lord's love to us. Herein is the great value of the Song of Songs. It awakens our love by unfolding His love. There are other songs in Scripture, songs that celebrate creation, songs that speak of victory, and songs of praise and thanksgiving, but the theme of this song is LOVE — the love of Christ — and therefore is it called THE SONG OF SONGS.
Canticle 1. Cant. 1: 2 - 2: 7.
The Assurance of Love.
The Bride. (2-7) .
2. Let Him kiss me with the kisses of His mouth.
The song opens with the voice of the bride. Her first words express the ardent longing of her heart for a pledge of the Bridegroom's love. This is not the language of a stranger to the Bridegroom, nor of one who is indifferent to his love. These are the words of one who has been attracted by the Bridegroom, and longs for, yet lacks, the assurance of his personal love.
At the close of this first canticle she obtains the desire of her heart, for she can say, with great delight, "His left hand is under my head, and his right hand doth embrace me." The desire expressed at the outset is realized at the end. She will have other lessons to learn in the course of the Song, but she has obtained the assurance and enjoyment of the Bridegroom's love. This then is the great theme of the first canticle — The way love takes to confirm the heart of the bride in the love of the Bridegroom.
To lack the assurance of the love of Christ is far indeed from true Christian experience, and yet at the outset of our history with God our souls are not always confirmed in the love of Christ. And when the assurance of His love is possessed it is not always enjoyed; and thus the language of the bride expresses the longing of many a child of God. But the enjoyment of the love of Christ is the secret of all true devotedness. As we trace the devoted life of the Apostle Paul, the persecutions he suffered, the perils he faced, and the hardships he endured, we ask, what was the hidden secret of this marvellous life? And we hear him answer, "The life which I now live in the flesh, I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave Himself for me." Here was the hidden spring of his life, a heart kept in the assurance and enjoyment of Christ's individual love. How deeply important that our souls should be thoroughly assured of the love of Christ. There are other loves in this world, but His love alone can satisfy the heart, — "Let Him kiss me." For satisfaction of heart His love must be consciously known, and this is the import of the kiss, — "Let Him kiss me." But, further, His love must be known as an individual and personal love, "Let Him kiss me."
2. For thy love is better than wine.
3. Thine ointments savour sweetly;
Thy name is an ointment poured forth:
Therefore do the virgins love thee.
Addressing the Bridegroom, the bride discovers to us the secret of her desire for the assurance of His love. She has learnt the preciousness of His love and the excellence of His name. The thought of His love fills her heart with a deeper gladness than "wine which maketh glad the heart of man." His love is better than wine, and His name is like an ointment poured forth. It is the soul's discovery of the infinite worth of Christ that creates the longing for the assurance of His love. His love is better than all earthly joys, of which wine is but the symbol; and His name, when revealed, is like an ointment poured forth. In the Bethany scene of John 12 we see the happy result of the ointment poured forth. In the alabaster box the odour was confined, but when poured forth, "the house was filled with the odour of the ointment." Prophets, priests, and kings, had foretold the coming of Christ and the names He would bear, but in their day the odour of His name was confined, as it were, to the alabaster box. When, however, Christ became incarnate and dwelt among us full of grace and truth, then indeed His name was poured forth: then the name of Jesus stood revealed as the perfect expression of meekness, gentleness, patience, longsuffering, holiness, and love. Other names may stink in the nostrils of men by reason of the cruelty and wickedness of those that bear them, this name is fragrant with every grace. The odour of this name filled the little company gathered around Him on earth; it fills the courts of heaven with its fragrance; it will become excellent in all the earth; it will fill the new heavens and the new earth. But it is only the virgins — the pure in heart — who value His name, and appreciate His love. "Therefore do the virgins love thee." They love because of His love. "We love Him because He first loved us."
4. Draw me, we will run after thee!
— The King hath brought me into his chambers —
We will be glad and rejoice in thee,
We will remember thy love more than wine.
They love thee uprightly.
The preciousness of His love, and the excellence of His name, not only create the longing for the assurance of His love, but also the desire for His company. The bride expresses this desire, as, in company with the virgins, she says, "Draw me, we will run after Thee." She is loved into loving and drawn into running. And, thus drawn, the Bridegroom leads into the secret place of His presence — the chambers of the King. In due time the bride will be a worshipper of the King at His table (12), and yet a little later she will rest with infinite delight in the banqueting house of the King (Cant. 2: 4); but first she must be a learner in the chambers of the King. In that secret place she forgets herself, rejoices in the Bridegroom, and remembers His love. There the King is loved with a pure love — they love Him uprightly. Thus it is that Christ becomes exceedingly attractive to our souls; He draws us after Him; He brings us into His presence, that, alone with Him, we may forget ourselves and rejoice only in Him and His love.
5. I am black, but comely, daughters of Jerusalem,
As the tents of Kedar,
As the curtains of Solomon.
In the presence of the Bridegroom, the bride can only rejoice in Him and His love; but, as the result of having been in the King's chambers, she gets a true estimate of herself, so that before others she owns her true condition. Discovering what we are in the presence of all that Christ is, we can use the language of the bride and say, "I am black," — black as the tents of Kedar. But if we learn what we are in the presence of Him who is the King, we also learn what His grace has made us, and thus while owning we are black we can also add, "but comely" like the beautiful curtains of Solomon's temple. These are lessons that all God's people have to learn. In the presence of God, Job had to say, "I am vile." In the sanctuary, the psalmist had to say, "I was as a beast before Thee." In the presence of the glory, Isaiah says, "I am unclean"; and, as a result of being in the chambers of the King, the bride has to own, "I am black." The soul will be restless and the assurance and the enjoyment of the love of Christ be lacking, until, in the secret chambers of the King, we have learnt these three great truths: (1) The infinite worth of Christ and His love: (2) the utter vileness of all that we are by nature; and (3) the comeliness His grace has put upon us.
6. Look not upon me, because I am black;
Because the sun hath looked upon me.
My mother's children were angry with me:
They made me keeper of the vineyards;
Mine own vineyard have I not kept.
Having seen the King in His beauty and herself in her blackness, she has no desire to attract attention to herself. If she speaks of herself, it is not to draw attention to herself. "Look not upon me," she says, "because I am black." The heat of this world's trials, persecution from those that were nearest to her, slavery in the vineyards of others and neglect of her own things had, all left their mark upon her. And in like manner, having discovered our blackness in the light of Christ's perfection, we realize that we are no pattern for others. As we think of our many failures under fiery trials, how often we have broken down in the presence of the opposition of men of the world, how much we have slaved in the world's vineyards, and how much we have neglected our own things, are we not constrained to say with the bride, "Look not upon me?" And yet how often our words and ways betray the vanity of our hearts which practically says, "Look upon me." The effort to attract to ourselves tells how little we have been in the chambers of the King.
7. Tell me, thou whom my soul loveth,
Where thou feedest (thy flock),
Where thou makest it to rest at noon;
For why should I be as one that turneth aside
Beside the flocks of thy companions?
The bride, who has been speaking to the daughters of Jerusalem now turns to the Bridegroom — the one whom she loves. Questions may arise in her heart as to His love for one who is so black, but she has no doubt as to her love for the King. ,She does not say, "Thou whom my soul ought to love," or even "desires to love," but "Thou whom my soul loveth." And loving Him she desires to feed where He feeds and rest where He rests. Attracted by His love she has no desire to turn aside. And so with ourselves, it is the love of Christ filling the heart, that alone can keep us from turning aside. And yet, alas, have we not each to confess that too often, we are "as one that turneth aside" to seek our food and rest in earthly things. And then we wonder why we make such little progress, and yet, if feeding on the husks of this poor world, the wonder would be if we made any spiritual growth. The philosophy, science and literature of this world will not attract, still less feed, the souls of the lovers of Christ. If we truly say, "Thou whom my soul loveth," we shall surely desire the heavenly food and the divine rest; and the ardent desire for spiritual food is the best antidote against turning aside to earthly supplies.
The Bridegroom. (8 - 11).
8. If thou know not, thou fairest among women,
Go thy way forth by the footsteps of the flock,
And feed thy kids beside the shepherds' tents.
Here for the first time we hear the Bridegroom's voice. He addresses the bride as the "fairest among women." Black in her own sight she may be, hated too and persecuted by others, but in His sight she is the "fairest among women." Nothing will alter Christ's estimate of His people. Neither the failure of the saints, nor the slander of the world, will alter His appreciation of His own. He ever views them in all the value of His own work, and according to the counsels of His grace. Would we know where to find food and rest for our souls we must follow in the footsteps of the flock. Christ has His flock and His shepherds in this world. And Christ, the chief Shepherd of the sheep, leads His flock into green pastures. Would we be fed, then let us follow in the footsteps of the flock. But there is further instruction for the bride. Let her feed the lambs beside the shepherd's tents, and in feeding others she will herself be fed. What is this but the anticipation of that last scene in the gospel of John with the Lord's touching words to a restored backslider, "Follow Me," and "Feed my lambs." To feed the lambs we must follow Christ, and if we follow Christ we shall delight to feed the lambs. The secret of obtaining rest and food for our souls is found in following Christ and feeding His lambs.
9. I compare thee, my love,
To a steed in Pharaoh's chariots.
10. Thy cheeks are comely with bead-rows,
Thy neck with ornamental chains.
11 We will make thee bead-rows of gold
With studs of silver.
Having answered her questions, the Bridegroom is free to express the thoughts of His heart concerning the bride. Like a horse in Pharaoh's chariot, adorned with all the trappings of royalty, so the bride was comely, in His sight, with the beauty He had put upon her; as the Lord can say, by the mouth of Ezekiel, "I decked thee also with ornaments, and I put bracelets upon thy hands, and a chain on thy neck" (Ezek. 16: 11). Does not Christ delight to unfold His thoughts of love towards His own? And more, to let us into the secret of things which God hath prepared for them that love Him — things that eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man? And so the Bridegroom not only expresses His present delight in the bride, but lets her into the secret of all the glory that is purposed for her, "We will make thee bead-rows of gold with studs of silver," doubtless referring to the crown she shall yet wear. There is the present comeliness in which Christ sees His people — for as He is so are we in this present world; and there is the future glory in which the saints will be displayed, when the marriage of the Lamb is come. Beautiful are the saints in His sight even now, but the crowning day is coming by and by.
The Bride.
(12-14).
12. While the king is at his table,
My spikenard sendeth forth its fragrance.
13. A bundle of myrrh is my beloved unto me;
That passeth the night between my breasts.
14. My beloved is unto me a cluster of henna-flowers
In the vineyards of Engedi.
The glowing thoughts of the Bridegroom for the bride calls forth her immediate response. While the King sitteth at his table, the worship of her heart ascends as a sweet odour. The King at his table gives us a lovely picture of Christ in the midst of His own. Not Christ with the girded loins, in lowly service, washing sin-soiled feet; not Christ as the Captain of the Lord's host leading His own in the fight with the powers of evil; not Christ with the tears of divine compassion comforting a sorrowing heart, but Christ at rest, finding joy and delight in the midst of His own. Not Bethany with its sorrow, but Bethany with its feasting — that happy moment when loving hearts "made Him a supper." It was not often in this sad world that any one made a supper for Him. Once in the house of Levi a feast was made that Christ might bless poor sinners, and once in the home at Bethany that Christ might commune with saints. There at last they spread a feast for Him who spread a feast for all the world. There the King sat at His table, and there the spikenard of the bride sent forth its fragrance. It was blessed to sit at His feet as a learner and hear His word, but Mary's spikenard sent forth no fragrance there. It was blessed to fall at His feet in the day of sorrow and receive the comfort of His tears, but it drew no fragrant spikenard from Mary's broken heart. But when the King sat at His table in the midst of His own, — no longer sustaining them in the pathway, comforting them in their sorrows, dealing with their weakness or correcting their mistakes, but now resting in His love in holy communion and intimacy with His own, — then indeed the suited moment had come to bring forth the alabaster box and pour out the precious spikenard upon the King, and the house was filled with the odour of the ointment. It is the presence of the King at His table that calls forth the worship of His own. Only a heart set free from its sorrows, and its exercises, and busy service, can worship in the presence of the King.
To learn at His feet is good, but learning is not worship. To be comforted by His tears of sympathy is sweet, but comfort is not worship. In learning, I am conscious of my ignorance, in comfort, I am thinking of my sorrow. But when we spread a feast for Christ — when the King sits at His table — it is no time for instruction or comfort. There we leave our sorrows, our ignorance, our daily cares behind, and at His supper, He alone engrosses the mind and holds the affections; and when the heart is filled with Christ we worship — "Our spikenard sendeth forth its fragrance."
Worship is the overflow of a heart filled with Christ. When Christ fills the heart we can say, in the language of the bride, "A bundle of myrrh is my beloved unto me." The myrrh speaks of Christ, but not Christ as an object before our gaze, but Christ dwelling in the heart by faith. Myrrh does not attract by its beauty' like the flower. It is a resin precious by reason of its sweet odour. The myrrh, too, is wrapped in a bundle; it is unseen but its fragrance is enjoyed. Such was the beloved to the bride, and such is Christ to the believer when dwelling in his heart by faith. And, says the bride, the bundle of myrrh shall lie all night between my breasts. All through the darkness of this world's night, until the dawn of endless day, the believer has Christ enshrined in the secret of his affections.
But further, the bride likens the Bridegroom to the beauty of a cluster of henna-flowers in the vineyards of Engedi. She would delight in her beloved in the secret of her affections, but she would also enjoy him as the object of her enraptured gaze. So too we need Christ not only dwelling in the heart by faith, but as the attractive Object of our souls, that gazing upon Him with unveiled face we may behold the glory of the Lord and be changed into the same image from glory to glory.
We need Christ to draw forth the fragrance of the spikenard at the feast; we need Christ as the bundle of myrrh throughout the long dark night; and we need Christ as the cluster of flowers in the vineyards of Engedi enshrined, as it were, in His own glory.
The Bridegroom.
(15).
16. Behold, thou art fair, my love,
Behold, thou art fair: thou hast doves' eyes.
The spikenard of the bride has sent forth its fragrance, expressive of her delight in the Bridegroom; now he expresses his delight in the bride. She had said, "I am black," but the Bridegroom says, "Behold thou art fair." Christ, ever viewing His people in the light of His purpose, and on the ground of His work, can say of each one, "Thou art fair." Thus the Apostle John can write, "As He is so are we, in this world." Moreover, the King adds, "Thou hast doves' eyes." The dove mourns and languishes when separated from its mate. Hezekiah could say in his sickness, "I did mourn as a dove." The dove has no eye but for its loved object; and it is those who have before them one object — and that object Christ — of whom He can say, "Thou hast doves' eyes."
The Bride.
(16-2: 1).
16. Behold, thou art fair, my beloved, yea pleasant;
Also our bed is green.
17. The beams of our houses are cedars,
Our rafters are firs.
The Bridegroom had said, "Behold, thou art fair, my love"; and with great delight the bride at once responds, "Behold, thou art fair, my beloved" Her comeliness is the counterpart of his. Is Christ fair? So are His people. The beauty of the Lord God is upon us (Ps. 90: 17). But not only does the bride say, "Thou art fair," but she can add, "Yea, pleasant." Of others it may be said, many are "fair" that are not "pleasant," and some are pleasant that are not fair. Christ is not only fair to look upon, but He is wholly pleasant to engage the thoughts. How "pleasant" was Christ to the Psalmist when he said, ''My heart is welling forth with a good matter"; and how "fair" when he added, "Thou art fairer than the children of men." Well we may sing,
"Each thought of Thee doth constant yield
Unchanging fresh delight."
But more. Not only is the King "fair" and "pleasant," but in his presence there is rest, security, and shelter. "Our bed is green." The bed refers to the couch on which the King and the bride recline at the King's table, and gives the thought of rest. When Christ takes His place in the midst of His own there is found a green spot in this barren world. In His presence there is rest. But it is "our" bed, the rest is mutual. "I with Him, and He with me." In His presence, too, we shall find security and shelter. "The beams of our house are cedar, and our rafters fir." The "beams" support the building and make it secure, the rafters support the roof and make it a place of shelter. In the presence of the King we have security and shelter. What kind of setting has the Bethany scene, when the King sits at His table? Immediately before we read of the great ones of the earth consulting to put the King to death, immediately after Judas covenants to betray Him for thirty pieces of silver. Outside the storm is rising, inside there is shelter and security from the coming storm. One, indeed, will find fault with Mary, but at once the sheltering care of the Lord is seen: "Let her alone, she hath done what she could." No power of the enemy can touch the one of whom the King says "Let her alone."
"In heavenly love abiding,
No change my heart shall fear;
And safe is such confiding,
For nothing changes here.
The storm may roar without me.
My heart may low be laid,
But God is round about me,
And can I be dismayed?"
2: 1. I am the rose of Sharon,
A lily of the valleys.
The King has said "Thou art fair," and in response to his "Thou art" she can rightly say "I am." "I am the rose of Sharon." Faith expresses what grace has made her in His sight — fragrant as a rose and beautiful as a lily of the valleys. Not a lily in some crowded city for the admiration of the world, but a lily for the Bridegroom's delight in some secluded valley. There is no presumption in accepting the place that Christ, by grace, has given us before Himself. Rather is it presumption, when Christ says "Thou art fair," to say "I am unworthy." The prodigal could speak thus in the far country, but when the Father's arms were around him and the Father's kisses covered him all was changed. And, in the presence of the King at His table, we may well take up the words of the bride, not indeed to exalt ourselves, but to magnify the grace of the One who has put His beauty upon us.
The Bridegroom.
(2).
2. As the lily among thorns,
So is my love among the daughters.
This is the response of the King. He affirms what the bride has said. She is the lily; but in the valley where the lily grows there are thorns which serve as a background to bring out the beauty of the lily. In the dark valley of this world there are those who have none of the beauty of Christ upon them, thorns for the burning, thorns that would only wound Him. But there are also His own, those in whom Christ can delight - the excellent of the earth — lilies among the thorns. They are Christ's sanctified ones, and He has put His beauty upon them. Their excellencies are the more displayed by reason of their dreary surroundings. To have His lily Christ had to descend into the valley of the thorns, yea, He must wear the thorns to win His bride. It is by His "one offering He hath perfected for ever them that are sanctified" (Heb. 10: 14).
The Bride.
(3 - 7).
3. As the apple tree among the trees of the wood,
So is my beloved among the sons;
I sit down under his shadow with great delight,
And his fruit is sweet to my taste.
The response of the bride is immediate. If the King sees excellence in the bride above all the daughters of women, the bride sees in her beloved the only one among the sons of men in whom she can find rest, and shade, and fruit. Thus she likens him to the citron tree with its dense shade and luscious golden fruit. Many trees of the wood may appear more imposing to the eye of man, even as men esteem their fellows of more account than the despised and lowly Jesus. Other trees of the forest may give shelter, but yield no fruit; some, too, may yield fruit but give no shade, but this tree alone meets every need. Christ is the true citron tree. Christ is the tree of life. To man's eye, as He passed through this world, merely a root out of a dry ground, without form or comeliness, but to the believer that lowly Man is the only one among the sons of men that can afford shelter, and refreshment, and rest in this dry and weary world. If, with faith's transpiercing gaze, we look on to the New Jerusalem we see the tree of life in the midst of the street, by the river of life, growing in its native soil, and there indeed shall we find eternal rest and perennial refreshment. Like the bride we shall say, "I sit down under his shadow with great delight, and his fruit is sweet to my taste."
4. He hath brought me to the house of wine,
And his banner over me is love.
In the Bridegroom's presence the bride has found rest from toil, shelter from the heat of the day, and fruit sweet to her taste. Now her experience deepens; her needs all met she is led into the full enjoyment of the bounties provided by the King. She is brought into the house of wine, to taste the fulness of his joy and the rapture of his love. Not now "his shadow," nor "his fruit," but himself.
So, in the experience of our souls; we sit down under the shadow of Christ, and in His presence find rest from toil, relief from the burden and heat of the day, and refreshment and nourishment for our souls. But, great as these blessings are, they have in them a measure of relief; and beyond the blessings that bring relief there are others that carry with them richer, deeper, experiences — experiences into which no thought of relief can enter, but only the infinite enjoyment of His fulness. Experiences which answer to the house of wine and the banner of love. Setting us free from earthly things Christ would lead us into His heavenly things. He would give us a taste of the fulness of joy and the pleasures for evermore, there to find His banner over us is love. The banner tells of the conqueror and of victory gained. The love of Christ has conquered. And what a victory has Christ gained for His people! Not a victory such as the poor clay kings of this world gain, who wade to their thrones through the blood of millions of their fellowmen, this mighty Conqueror gains His victory by the shedding of His own blood — by Himself becoming the Victim. And having gained His victory He unfurls His banner, and His banner is love. Love made Him the willing victim; love held Him on His way as He descended into the valley of thorns; love held Him on the cross — no nails of man's forging could hold the Christ of God upon the cross — love that the many waters could not quench or the floods drown held Him there. Love divine, eternal, unquenchable, all-powerful, has gained the mighty victory, and the banner that declares His victory is inscribed with His love.
5. Stay me with flagons,
Refresh me with citrons;
For I am sick of love.
The ecstasy of the house of wine is more than the Bride can sustain. There are spiritual experiences too deep for these weak vessels of clay. Was it not thus with the Apostle when caught up into the third heaven? He heard unspeakable words, not possible to utter. Little indeed may such experiences be the common lot of the Christian life, but at times the Lord grants to His people such an overwhelming sense of His love that we are constrained to cry out in such language as a dying saint once used, "Lord, hold Thy hand; it is enough, thy servant is a clay vessel and can hold no more." One of the later Puritans well expressed such an experience when he wrote:
"The love, the love that I bespeak,
Works wonders in the soul:
For when I'm whole it makes me sick,
When sick it makes me whole."
6. His left hand is under my head,
And his right hand doth embrace me.
This is the answer to the bride's call for sustaining power. The banner of love is over her, and the arms of love are around her. She has attained the longing of her heart expressed in the opening of the canticle. She has reached the assurance and enjoyment of the Bridegroom's love. How happy when the saint finds every longing of the renewed nature satisfied by the love of Christ.
7. I charge you, daughters of Jerusalem,
By the roes, and by the hinds of the field,
That ye stir not up, nor awaken love, till it please.
The canticle closes with an appeal to the daughters of Jerusalem not to disturb the rest of love. The slightest movement would disturb the timid and sensitive roe or hind of the field. With the banner of love over her, and the arms of love around her, the bride dreads the slightest intrusion that would mar the enjoyment of love. And well may the saint, in the enjoyment of the love of Christ, dread any intrusion that would break up or mar that intimacy of love that may exist between him and his Saviour.
Canticle 2. Cant. 2: 8-3: 5.
The Awakening of Love.
The Bride.
(8, 9).
8. The voice of my beloved!
Behold, he cometh.
The first canticle presents a day scene with the King sitting at his table: in the second canticle the enjoyment of love in the presence of the King is past, and it opens with the bride reposing in her home in the plains, with its latticed windows. In the absence of the Bridegroom, she has turned back to her own home, in her own land; like Peter, in a later day, who said, in the absence of Christ, "I go a-fishing." He turned back to circumstances that once he had left to follow Christ. Others follow him, only to find on "that night they caught nothing." The bride is aroused by hearing the voice of her beloved, which tells that he is coming. Then in the distance he is seen approaching over the mountains: a little later he stands behind the wall of the house, then he shows himself through the lattice.
How often, in the history of the Lord's people, a time of great joy and blessing is followed by a season of spiritual torpor. The banqueting house of the King gives place to the latticed home of the bride. Communion with the King at his table is followed by the solitary longings of the bride in her own home.
How soon the early freshness of the church passed away. When "the multitude of them that believed were of one heart and of one soul"; when the saints were marked by "great power" and "great grace"; when they continued daily with "one accord," "breaking bread from house to house," and "did eat their meat with gladness and singleness of heart," may we not say, they were in the banqueting-house, with the King at his table. But when this early freshness passed away, when all sought their own, and not the things of Jesus Christ, must we not admit that spiritual night had fallen upon the saints, that they had lost all sense of their high calling, and settled down in their own homes in the plains of the world?
And what is true of the church as a whole is often true, alas, of the individual. After the early freshness of first love how often the young convert settles down at a low spiritual level, in which, though the outward routine of service may be kept up, yet the constraining love of Christ — the true motive for all service — is lacking.
Such are the conditions portrayed in this second canticle. But further, we see the way love takes to meet this condition, how the King reawakens bridal affections in the heart of the bride. And herein there is rich instruction for our souls, to which we do well to take heed.
The affections of the bride are first awakened by the voice of the Bridegroom. Drowsy though she may be at once she recognizes the voice of her beloved. So with the Lord's sheep: they may wander from Him, but it ever remains true "they know His voice" (John 10: 4). Peter, and those who follow him, may turn back to their poor fisherman's life; but when recalled by the visit of the Lord, at once they discern "it is the Lord."
The voice proclaims that he is coming. Could anything awaken the affections like the news that he is coming? What would so quicken the affections of a wife as the knowledge that at last her husband from overseas is coming? What will quicken the affections of Israel's godly remnant, in the day to come, like the glorious announcement, "The King is coming"? "Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion; shout, O daughter of Jerusalem: behold, thy King cometh" (Zech. 9: 9). So, too, the affections of Christ's waiting church are awakened by the truth that He is coming. All the majestic unfoldings in the Revelation, by elders and angels, of solemn events, of coming glories and eternal blessing, are heard with calm if rapt attention; but when every other voice is hushed, and we hear Jesus Himself saying, "Surely I come quickly," then, at last, the affections of the church are aroused, and the cry goes back, "Even so, come, Lord Jesus."
8. Leaping upon the mountains,
Skipping upon the hills,
9. My beloved is like a gazelle or a young hart.
With the energy of a gazelle or a young hart, leaping from rock to rock on the mountains and the hills, so the earnest desire of the King, to claim his bride, is presented as overcoming every obstacle. The bride may sleep, but not so the King. Israel may sleep, but "He that keepeth Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep." Four times over does the Lord say to His church, "Behold I come quickly"; and does not this word "quickly" bespeak the earnest desire of the Lord for that great day when "the marriage of the Lamb is come"?
9. Behold, he standeth behind our wall,
He looketh in through the windows,
Glancing through the lattice.
Not only does the King awaken the affections of the bride by the sound of his voice, but, in patience, he stands waiting at the wall of the house; and then, showing himself through the lattice, attracts her by the beauty of his person. Was it not thus that Christ dealt with those two disappointed saints on the way to Emmaus? He first made their hearts burn within them as He talked with them by the way. Then He stands at the threshold of their house as a wayfaring man, and at last He reveals Himself to them — just a glance, as it were, through the lattice — and He is gone. And in like manner He deals with His beloved people to-day. He awakens our drooping affections by making His still small voice of love to be heard in the secret of our souls, and in wonderful patience He often stands at our doors, even as He stood at the door of the poor Laodicean, waiting to show Himself and attract our hearts by His excellencies.
The Bridegroom.
(10-15).
10. My beloved spake and said unto me,
Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away.
Hitherto the bride could only catch the sound of his voice, but now she hears the words of his mouth, and gladly repeats what her beloved says. The King would no longer be without his bride; he would call her away from the dark wintry plains to fairer, brighter scenes. His first word would arouse her from her circumstances: "Rise up." His next word proclaims how precious she is in his sight: "My love, my fair one." And lastly, she hears the clear, definite call: "Come away" — telling of the longing of his heart.
And is it not thus the Lord is speaking to His people to-day? Can we not hear His voice saying to us, "Rise up," as He seeks to arouse us from the spiritual torpor that overcomes us and holds us down to earth? Is He not saying to us, "Arise ye, and depart: for this is not your rest"? And again we are reminded by the Apostle, "Now it is high time to awake out of sleep: for now is our salvation nearer than when we believed."
But further, does not the Lord remind us how precious we are in His sight when He tells us how He loved the church and gave Himself for it, that He might sanctify and cleanse it with the washing of water by the word, that He might present it to Himself a glorious church? Should it not move our hearts to their very depths to hear Him still call His bride, "My love, my fair one," in spite of all our coldness, our wanderings, and our breakdown?
Moreover, do we not hear Him calling us away from this poor world, as He says, "Ye are not of this world, but I have chosen you out of the world"? And shall we not very soon hear His voice saying, "Come away," as He calls us to meet Him in the air?
11. For, lo, the winter is past,
The rain is over and gone;
12 The flowers appear on the earth,
The time of singing is come,
And the voice of the turtle-dove is heard in our land..
13 The fig-tree melloweth her winter figs,
And the vines in bloom give forth their fragrance.
Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away!
The King not only calls the bride from her home in the plains, but he unfolds to her a new world of blessing, where neither storm nor winter's blast can ever come, where all is beautiful to the eye, sweet to the ear, and pleasant to the taste — the land of flowers and singing, the land of green figs and the new wine. The presence of the bride is all that is lacking to complete the blessedness of that scene, and therefore the King concludes with the call, "Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away!"
When the Lord gathered His sorrowing disciples around Him, on that last sad night before He left the world, He poured comfort into their troubled hearts by unfolding before them another world, a home that He was going to prepare, beyond this world's wintry night. The storm that was over our heads was about to burst on His Head, and He can look beyond the darkness and the judgment and open to our vision a new home, where faith will be changed to sight — the flowers will appear; where the time of weeping will be past, and the time of singing will be come; where the voice of the dove will be heard, as the saints join to sing the new song of glory to the Lamb. There indeed we shall feed on heaven's fruit and drink of the new wine. And to complete the blessedness of that scene there only wants the presence of the bride, the Lamb's wife. Long has been the waiting-time — the patience of Christ — but ere He went He said, "I will come again and receive you unto Myself," and soon, very soon, the winter-time will be past, the waiting-time will be over, He will come to fetch His bride, and we shall hear His call, "Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away!" Well may we sing, with such a prospect before us —
"Beyond the storms I'm going,
Beyond this vale of tears,
Beyond the flood's o'erflowing,
Beyond the changing years,
I'm going to the better land,
By faith long since possessed,
The glory shines before me,
For this is not my rest."
14 My dove, in the clefts of the rock,
In the covert of the precipice,
The King has told the bride of a land of sunshine and song, when the winter will be past and the rain will be over and gone; but in the meantime she is yet in the land of winter and storm. But the one who is coming for her is the one who protects her. He likens his bride to a dove hiding in the cleft of the rock, and finding shelter from the storm in the covert of the precipice. And even so to-day, while waiting for the Lord, His people have enemies to oppose, and storms to face; but grace has provided a hiding-place and a covert from the storm. As we read, "A Man shall be as an hiding-place from the wind, and a covert from the tempest; as rivers of waters in a dry place, as the shadow of a great rock in a weary land" (Isa. 32: 1, 2). In the cleft of that Rock — the Man Christ Jesus, with the pierced side — how safe from the storm are the Lord's poor people, who may truly be likened to a timid dove. Well may we sing —
"O Lamb of God, still keep us
Close to Thy pierced side,
'Tis only there in safety
And peace we can abide."
14. Let me see Thy countenance, let me hear thy voice;
For sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance is comely.
Through the lattice of her home, the King had revealed Himself to the bride, and spoken to her; but this will not satisfy his heart. He would fain see her countenance, and hear her voice. To his ear her voice is sweet, and in his sight her countenance is fair. May we not say the Lord is not content to reveal His glories to His people and converse with them? He longs for the day when His people will be presented to Him all-glorious, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing — perfect through the comeliness that He has put upon them. And He longs to hear them unite in saying, "Blessing, and honour, and glory, and power, be unto him that sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb for ever and ever."
15 Take us the foxes,
The little foxes, that spoil the vineyards;
For our vineyards are in bloom.
The King has expressed His longing to see the face of His bride, and to hear her voice; but as the foxes, with their young, spoil the vineyards as they break into bloom, so oftentimes evils, of a secret and subtle nature, may be at work which hinder the bride from yielding refreshment to the heart of the King.
Christ longs for the company of His people, His desire is to sup with them and they with Him. To sit at His feet and hold communion with Him, is the "one thing needful." Our busy service He can dispense with, but our company He will not be without. Mary yielded this pleasant fruit to the Lord, but not so Martha. For the moment a fox had made her unfruitful. And how often our case is like Martha's. Some fox — it may be, as nature counts, a little fox — is allowed to work unheeded in the secret of our hearts. Pride, covetousness, lust, unkind and bitter thoughts, murmuring and discontent, irritability and impatience, jealousy and envy, or vanity and levity, may be allowed unjudged, and communion is hindered, and the life becomes unfruitful. We need to keep a sharp watch against the inroads of these foxes, and expel them with ruthless hand if they appear.
The Bride.
(16 - 3: 5).
16. My beloved is mine, and I am his.
The King had paid a brief visit to his bride and was gone; but in that short interview he had awakened her affections, even as in a later day — a resurrection day — the Lord, at another short interview, could turn "slow hearts" into burning hearts. The King had revealed himself to the bride through the lattice: He had poured into her ear the report of a land of sunshine and flowers, a land of rest and song, a land of joy and plenty: He had called her to arise and come away to that happy land: He had disclosed the longings of his heart to see her face and hear her voice, and as she listens to these wonderful unfoldings, her heart is stirred, her love is awakened, and in the realization of his love and devotion, she exclaims, "My beloved is mine, and I am his." He becomes the absorbing object of her heart, through the realization that she is an object to him. And thus it is that Christ deals with His own to-day. He reveals Himself to us; He unfolds to us all that His heart has purposed for us; He tells us how He longs to have us with Him face to face, and to hear our voices as we raise the new song, and thus once again, as He talks with us by the way, He makes our slow hearts burn, and gives us the deep consciousness that He is ours and we are His. And thus, not through the bare statement of a truth, but, through the experimental realization of His love He speaks to our hearts in such wise that each one is compelled to own with great delight, "My beloved is mine, and I am His."
16. He feedeth among the lilies.
17. Until the day break, and the shadows flee away.
The King has already likened the bride to the lily, and has unfolded to her all the thoughts of his heart, and thus she is brought to realize that his food and his delight is in herself. During the night of his absence and until the marriage-day, "He feedeth among the lilies." During the night of Christ's absence what is there to minister to His heart save His beloved people? It is still true, "He feedeth among the lilies, until the day break and the shadows flee away." He would indeed have us with Himself in the glory where He is according to His prayer, "Father, I will that they also whom Thou hast given Me, be with Me where I am," but, during the time of shadows, He delights to come to His own, according to that other sweet word, "I will not leave you comfortless, I will come to you." How true are the words of an old divine, "The believer hath a heartsome life, and a rich inheritance, Christ here, and Christ hereafter."
17 Turn, my beloved: be thou like a roe, or a young hart'
Upon the mountains of Bether.
The bride expresses the longing of her heart for other visits from the King even as the roes and the harts come down from the mountains by night to feed in the plains. So, indeed, may we welcome every occasion on which the Lord comes into the midst of His people as they pass through this dark world.
3: 1. By night, on my bed,
I sought him whom my soul loveth:
I sought him, but I found him not.
The night visit of the King has awakened the affections of the bride. But it was only a visit; he had revealed himself through the lattice; he had unfolded to his bride the. vision of another and a brighter world — a world of sunshine and song; he had called her to arise and come to that good land beyond the mountains and the hills; and then, having awakened her affections, he had withdrawn to his own place, and the bride is left behind in the night. She has heard of the day and looks forward to the daybreak, but she is yet in the night. The presence of the King will bring the day, even as his absence makes the night. So too we may say it is the presence of Jesus makes our day, and the absence of Jesus makes our night. But if the bride is left behind in the night, she is left with deep yearnings of heart for her beloved. She has been aroused from her slumbers. Love has been awakened, and now she delights to speak of her beloved as the one that her soul loveth. Four times over she uses the expression, "Him whom my soul loveth."
But awakened love is not content without its object. Love makes her a seeker. Hitherto the Bridegroom has been the seeker, but now at last the bride is the one that seeks. As with a hardened sinner, so with a sleeping saint. Christ must first be the seeker. There would be no seeking sinner, if there was not first a seeking Saviour. If the Son of Man had not first come to seek and save the lost, we never should have heard of the poor publican who "sought to see Jesus." If "Jesus Himself" had not drawn nigh to the two sorrowing saints on the road to Emmaus, they never would have returned to Jerusalem, that same night, to find "Jesus Himself" in the midst of His own.
Further, we do well to remark that it is the Bridegroom himself that is sought by the bride. It is not the daybreak, the time of singing, or the land of song, that she seeks; it is a person, himself that she longs to see. In her eyes he is fairer than the fairest land, and better than all the blessings that he brings. When love is awakened, Christ alone can satisfy the heart of the Christian. As home-sick saints we welcome the thought that soon the last tear will be wiped away, the last sorrow will be passed, and the last enemy overcome; but as lovesick saints we want "Jesus Himself." To the dying thief, saved by grace, the Lord could not only say, "To-day shalt thou be in Paradise," but "To-day shalt thou be with Me in Paradise." The heavenly city, with its walls of jasper, its gates of pearl, and its streets of gold, would be no heaven without Christ. There, indeed, will be "songs and everlasting joy," but Christ is the theme of the song and the source of the joy. "The Lamb is the light thereof."
But this seeking bride will yield us further instruction. Love has been awakened; love has made her a seeker, but she does not at once obtain the object of her quest. Though she sought the Bridegroom she has to admit, more than once, "I found him not." Why is this? Is she not seeking the right person? Indeed she is, but at first she seeks him in a wrong way. She says, "On my bed, I sought him." She sought him, but, at the same time, she sought to retain her ease. She was not at first prepared to forego her own comfort in the quest for her beloved. How many of us would like to have Christ if we could spare the flesh. The love of Christ would impel us to follow after Christ, but the love of ease would hold us back. We seek Him, as it were, on our bed; and therefore we find Him not. We forget the word which declares, "If any man come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow me."
2. I will rise now and go about the city,
In the streets and in the broadways
Will I seek Him whom my soul loveth:
I sought him, but I found him not.
The power of love prevails with the bride, and she says, "I will rise now and go about the city." She overcomes her love of ease, but only to fail again. She had sought her beloved in a wrong way, she now seeks him in a wrong place. He is not to be found in the city streets and broad highways; he feeds among the lilies. And we too may fall into the same snare. We would like to have Christ, but, we would like to have Christ and the broad highways of this world. But if we cannot have Christ and spare the flesh, neither can we have Christ and retain the world. If the cross witnesses to the dying love of Christ, it also expresses the undying hatred of the world to Christ. Cast out by the world, He has "suffered without the gate," and if we would find Christ we must "go forth, therefore, unto Him without the camp, bearing His reproach."
3. The watchmen that go about the city found me: —
Have ye seen him whom my soul loveth?
For the third time the bride fails in her quest. She has sought the Bridegroom in the wrong way, she has sought him in the wrong place, now she appeals to the wrong people. The business of the watchmen is to govern and keep order. They may administer righteousness, but they cannot help in the quest of love. "If it were a matter of wrong or wicked lewdness," the Gallios of this world will deal with it; but if it is a matter of "love" and "Jesus," then, in the world's sight, it is only "a question of words and names," and the world "will be no judge of such matters." Or if at times they turn judge in such matters, it will only be to persecute the seeker after Christ. In vain, therefore, do we appeal to an arm of flesh, though Christians from early times have fallen into this snare, only to learn that the princes of this world have crucified the Lord of glory. Like the blind man of Bethsaida, with his partly restored sight, we are apt to view men out of all proportion to their true importance. We "see men as trees walking." But the love of Christ would bring us, like the disciples of old, to see "no man any more save Jesus only."
4. It was but a little that I passed from them,
When I found him whom my soul loveth
I held him, and would not let him go
Until I had brought him into my mother's house,
And into the chamber of her that conceived me.
When every hindrance is overcome — the bed, the city, the watchmen — it was but a little ere the bride found her beloved. And when found she "held him, and would not let him go." And may we not say, in our day, the one great need of the Lord's people is this same energy of love, which, overcoming every hindrance, links the soul to Christ, and will not let Him go. But alas, in the light of the prevailing apathy and lack of affection for Christ, we have once again to cry with Isaiah, "There is none . . . that stirreth up himself to take hold of Thee" (Isa. 64: 7). In the day of His presence on earth there came a time when many professed followers "went back and walked no more with Him"; but the twelve "held Him, and would not let Him go." The Lord asks, "Will ye also go away?" And they reply, "Lord, to whom shall we go? Thou hast the words of eternal life." And in these days of His absence in glory, when the love of many grows cold, when hands hang down, and knees grow feeble, when again many turn back and walk no more with Him, how imperative it is that we should stir ourselves up "to take hold of Him"; and, having taken hold of Him in the affection of our hearts, refuse to let Him go.
In the close of the first canticle the Bridegroom conducts the bride into the banqueting house of the King, but in this closing scene the bride conducts the Bridegroom into her mother's house. For the earthly bride the mother represents the nation of Israel (Rev. 12). Not until God's earthly people give the King His rightful place in connection with the nation will they come into blessing. For Christians, Jerusalem, which is above, is the mother of us all. We may attempt to bring Christ back to earth — in other words, we may seek to connect Christ's name and authority with this world — but it will be in vain. Christ is not to be found in the city and broadways of this world, and if He is not found here, He cannot be enjoyed here. He can only be known, and enjoyed, in connection with the heavenly scene where He is and to which we belong. If, as we have seen, He can only be found "without the camp," the "mother's house" would teach us that He can only be enjoyed "within the veil."
5. I charge you, daughters of Jerusalem
By the roes, and by the hinds of the field,
That ye stir not up, nor awaken love till it please.
The canticle closes, like the first, with the earnest appeal to the daughters of Jerusalem, that nothing should be allowed to disturb the enjoyment of love between the Bridegroom and the bride. And in like spirit we may well sing —
"Take Thou our hearts, and let them be
For ever closed to all but Thee;
Thy willing servants, let us wear
The seal of love for ever there."
Canticle 3. Cant. 3: 6 - 5: 1.
The Communion of Love.
The Daughters of Jerusalem.
(3: 6).
3: 6. Who is this that cometh up from the wilderness
Like pillars of smoke,
Perfumed with myrrh and frankincense,
With all the powders of the merchant?
In this canticle we no longer see the bride resting upon her bed, calling forth the grace of the Bridegroom to arouse her flagging energies and awaken her waning love. She is rather presented as enjoying the communion of love and coming up from the wilderness on her way to share the glories of the King. The daughters of Jerusalem inquire, "Who is this?" or as it can be translated, "Who is she?"
Strictly the scene presents a beautiful picture of Israel, of whom the Lord could say, "I found Israel like grapes in the wilderness," and again, "I did know thee in the wilderness, in the land of great drought" (Hosea 9: 10 and Hosea 13: 5). It is true that Jehovah "drew them with cords of a man," and "with bands of love," into a land flowing with milk and honey, but they turned from the Lord and went after strange gods. Yet in the days to come God will again bring Israel into the wilderness, will there "speak to her heart," and from thence open to her "a door of hope" that will lead to the kingdom glories of the true Solomon (Hosea 2: 14-23).
The Church, too, has her wilderness journey — the time of her earthly pilgrimage — before the end is reached in heavenly glory. In this lovely canticle we see the unfolding of this journey, not in its weakness and failure, but according to the thought of God, taken in the communion of love. For the wilderness has its privileges as well as its privations, and this the Song presents, for the journey is made in the King's palanquin. Moreover the very privations become the occasion of calling forth a sweet odour, just as the path of the bride is marked by the smoke of ascending incense, and perfumed with myrrh and frankincense, and with all powders of the merchant. There is spiritual significance in the fact that the powders of the merchant are compounded from plants gathered in the wilderness. The trials, the testings, and the privations of our wilderness journey, when taken from the hand of God, become the occasion of developing the graces of Christ, which ascend as "an odour of a sweet smell" even now, and will be found unto praise and glory at the appearing of Jesus Christ. It is this aspect of the wilderness journey that the Song presents, not the wilderness with our infirmities and God's provision, as in the Epistle to the Hebrews, but the wilderness with its privations and its privileges, as in the Epistle to the Philippians. Paul has to taste the privations of the wilderness, but he rejoices greatly in the Lord that his trials become the occasion of calling forth the grace of Christ in the saints as "an odour of a sweet smell, a sacrifice, acceptable, well pleasing to God." And we, like Paul, can turn our privations into privileges if we but see that every trial is a God-sent opportunity to call forth some Christian grace; Alas, how often the trials by the way call forth some ugly exhibition of the flesh — its tempers and its violence, its envy and its pride, its impatience and its murmurings. We open the door to the flesh by letting our wilderness circumstances come between our souls and God. Let us but keep God between ourselves and our circumstances and then indeed they will call forth the graces of Christ. Faith, hope, love, meekness, lowliness, long-suffering and patience will be the outcome of the trials, and our journey through the wilderness will be fragrant before God with "myrrh and frankincense" and "all powders of the merchant."
Friends of the Bridegroom.
(3: 7-11).
7. Behold his couch, Solomon's own:
Threescore valiant men are about it,
Of the valiant of Israel.
8. They all hold the sword, experts in war:
Each hath his sword upon his thigh
Because of fear in the night.
The bed, or litter, on which the bride journeys through the wilderness is provided by the King. In like manner the Christian has not to travel at his own charges, or according to his own thoughts, but in the way that God has provided. This, however, entails conflict, and hence the wilderness journey, while developing Christian graces, also calls for Christian warfare. For this we need the "valiant men." Paul not only exhorts Timothy to "be strong in the grace that is in Christ Jesus," but He also says, "Endure hardness as a good soldier of Jesus Christ" (2 Tim. 2: 1-3).
And the soldiers that accompany the litter are well equipped. They "all hold swords"; they are "expert" in the use of their swords; and they are ready to use them, for "every man hath his sword upon his thigh because of fear in the night.''
So too the good soldier of Jesus Christ is armed with "the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God" (Eph. 6: 17). Paul reminds Timothy that "all Scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness."
But to have Scripture is not all that is needed. We must be expert in the use of Scripture, and so Timothy is further exhorted to have "an outline of sound words," "rightly dividing the Word of truth" (2 Tim. 1: 13; 2 Tim. 2: 15).
Moreover, we must not only be "armed" and "expert" but ready — every man with "his sword upon his thigh." It was so in Nehemiah's day. "Every man had his sword girded by his side, and so builded" (Neh. 4: 18). The moment of attack will give no time for girding on the sword. We must be ready to "preach the Word," in season and out of season.
9. King Solomon made himself a palanquin
Of the wood of Lebanon.
10. Its pillars he made of silver,
The base of gold, its seat of purple,
The midst thereof was paved with love
By the daughters of Jerusalem.
The introduction of the valiant men is followed by the description of the palanquin, or litter, which they are called to defend. In the details of the palanquin do we not see set forth great truths as to the Person of Christ — the support of our souls and the foundations of our faith? The cedar wood speaking of His perfect humanity, fragrant and incorruptible; the pillars of silver telling of His redeeming power; the gold, of His divine righteousness; the purple, of His royalty; and the pavement of love, of divine love, the foundation of all. Love comes last: as one has said, "There is something beyond gold, there is nothing beyond love."
These are the vital truths that the enemy is opposing and Christendom giving up, but for which the good soldier of Jesus Christ must contend.
11. Go forth, daughters of Zion,
And behold King Solomon
With the crown wherewith his mother crowned him
In the days of his espousals,
And in the day of the gladness of his heart.
The daughters of Jerusalem had been occupied with the bride and the bridal procession, but now they are called to behold the King. Our wilderness journey with its trials and conflicts will end in the Kingdom glories. We have known the King in this wilderness world with the crown of thorns, but we shall yet behold Him in the day of espousals with the crown of glory. The wilderness journey will soon be past. The day of espousals is coming when His people will be presented to Him "a glorious church, not having spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing." Then indeed will be "the day of the gladness of His heart," when "He shall see of the travail of His soul, and shall be satisfied" (Isa. 53: 11).
The Bridegroom.
(4: 1-16).
4. 1. Behold, thou art fair, my love; behold, thou art fair,
Thine eyes are doves behind thy veil;
Thy hair is as a flock of goats,
On the slopes of Mount Gilead.
2. Thy teeth are like a flock of shorn sheep,
Which go up from the washing;
Which have all born twins,
And none is barren among them.
3. Thy lips are like a thread of scarlet,
And thy speech is comely;
As a piece of pomegranate are thy temples
Behind thy veil.
4. Thy neck is like the tower of David,
Built for an armoury:
A thousand bucklers hang thereon,
All shields of mighty men.
6. Thy two breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle,
Which feed among the Lilies.
If the others are occupied with the glories of the King, he, on his part, delights to dwell upon the beauties and perfections of his bride. The bride delights to speak to others of the glories of the King, but it is his joy to unfold to the bride his thoughts about herself. It is blessed to witness to others of the glories of Christ, but for the establishment of our hearts in solid peace and joy, it is necessary to hear from the lips of Christ His own thoughts about His people. It is this that gives the prayer of John 17 such exceeding preciousness, for there we are permitted to hear His thoughts about His own.
The King repeats twice over, "Behold thou art fair," but is not content with a general expression of his appreciation of His bride, he dwells upon her several features. For us, doubtless, these different features set forth the moral graces that Christ sees in His people.
(1) The eyes are the windows of the soul expressing its character and moral condition. Likened to doves would set forth gentleness, purity, and devoted affection, but combined with modesty, for the eyes are seen behind the veil.
(2) The hair is likened to the black glossy hair of the goats seen in all the profusion that a flock would present on the slopes of Mount Gilead. Hair is used in Scripture as the symbol of "subjection" (1 Cor. 11), separation from the world, and consecration to God.
(3) The teeth likened to sheep coming up from the washing would indicate purity; the twins, uniformity, and none barren, completeness, nothing lacking, all qualities that Christ delights to see in His people.
(4) The lips like a thread of scarlet proclaim the healthy condition of the body, just as wholesome speech, of which the lips are a symbol, set forth the condition of the heart, for "out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh." The Lord Jesus was full of grace and truth, and hence we read of Him, "Grace is poured into Thy lips"; and of the bride the King can say, "Thy speech is comely." If the love of Christ is in our hearts, the praise of Christ will be upon our lips, and the grace that was poured into His lips will be expressed by our lips.
(5) The temples. The forehead is used in Scripture to express either modesty or boldness. The prophet had to say of Israel, "Thou art obstinate . . . and thy brow brass" (Isa. 48: 4). Jehovah asks, "Were they ashamed when they had committed abomination?" and the answer is given, "They were not at all ashamed, neither could they blush" (Jer. 6: 15; Jer. 8: 12). In contrast, the bride is marked by modesty. She can blush, so that her forehead becomes red "like a piece of pomegranate," but it is "within thy locks," or as it may read "behind thy veil." Under the outward symbol of subjection there was genuine modesty. Not outward subjection, and inward rebellion. Modesty found with subjection is a precious quality in the sight of Christ.
(6) The neck. The King viewing the neck of the bride adorned with precious jewels likens it to the tower of David adorned with a thousand shields that spoke of David's victories. So too Christ is going to be glorified in His saints and admired in all them that believe.
(7) The breasts set forth the affections. The figure of the roe is used in the same connection in Proverbs 5: 19, to indicate that which is pleasant. The "young" roe sets forth that which is fresh. In the eyes of Christ His people are marked by love that is truly pleasant and that will never grow old.
6. Until the day break, and the shadows flee away,
I will get me to the mountains of myrrh,
And to the hill of frankincense.
Night is coming and the King must leave his bride until the marriage morn. However blessed the communications of love by the way, yet the day of the gladness of the Bridegroom's heart is still future. The bride is in the wilderness; the marriage day is yet to come. Until that day dawns the Bridegroom will go to his own country reminding us, in mystic language, that during our wilderness journey it is the night of the absence of Christ. He may commune with us by the way; He may give us very blessed realizations of His presence with us in a spiritual sense, but personally He has gone to the mountains of myrrh and the hill of frankincense, until the day break and the shadows flee away.
7. Thou art all fair, my love;
There is no spot in thee.
If, for a time, the bride is left behind, it is not because of any lack in herself. In the eyes of the King she is all fair and without spot. And in like manner the Lord's people, viewed in the light of the Lord's purpose, are "holy and without blame before Him in love."
8. Come with me, from Lebanon, my spouse,
With me from Lebanon —
Come, look from the top of Amanah,
From the top of Shenir and Hermon,
From the lions' dens,