Homilies on the Song of Songs 1 part 8/20

For she says: 'Already, as though deemed worthy of perfect things, resting myself as upon some bed in the comprehension of the things known, when I had come within the invisible things, leaving behind the senses, when I was encompassed by the divine night, seeking the One hidden in the thick darkness, then indeed I had love toward the One I longed for, but the very Beloved fled from the grasp of my reasonings.'

'For I sought him upon my bed by night, so as to know what his essence is, whence it begins, in what it ends, in what it has its being.'

'I called him by name, as far as it was possible for me to devise names for the Unnameable; but there was no signification of a name that could reach the One sought.'

For how could the One who is above every name be found out through the appellation of a name? Wherefore she says, 'I called him and he did not answer me.'

'Then I knew that of his magnificence, his glory, his holiness, there is no limit.'

Therefore again she raises herself up and, with her mind, goes about the intelligible and supramundane nature—which she names a 'city'—in which are the principalities and dominions and the thrones assigned to the powers, and the festal assembly of the heavenly ones, which she names a 'marketplace,' and the multitude uncontainable by number, which she signifies by the name 'broad street'—to see whether perchance among these the Beloved might be found.

So she went about, searching through every angelic order; and when she did not see among the good things she found the object of her seeking, she reasoned thus within herself:

'Can it be that even by those beings the One loved by me is comprehensible?' And she says to them:

'Have even you seen him whom my soul loved?' But when they kept silent at such a question, and by their silence showed that the object of her seeking was incomprehensible even to them—so that, when she had traversed by the busy curiosity of her mind that whole supramundane city, and not even among the intelligible and incorporeal beings had she seen the One she longed for—then, leaving behind everything that could be found, she thus came to know the object of her seeking: namely, that which is known in this alone, that it is not comprehended as to what it is, but only that it is; whose every comprehensible mark becomes, for those who search, an obstacle to the finding.

Therefore she says, 'It was but a little that I passed on from them': having let go of all creation, and having passed by all that is conceived within creation, and having left behind every comprehensible approach, by faith I found the Beloved; and I will no longer let him go, clinging by the grasp of faith to the One found, until he comes to be within my chamber.

And the chamber is assuredly the heart, which becomes receptive of his divine indwelling then, when it returns to that condition in which it was at the beginning, when it was fashioned by her who conceived.

And one will not err at all in understanding the 'mother' to be, in every respect, the first cause of our constitution.

It would be time again to set alongside the text itself the divine words, so that the sayings may be fitted to the things contemplated.

'Upon my bed by night I sought him whom my soul loved; I sought him and found him not; I called him and he did not answer me.'

'I will arise now and go about the city, in the marketplaces and in the broad streets, and will seek him whom my soul loved.'

'I sought him and found him not.'

'The watchmen who go about the city found me.'

'Have you seen him whom my soul loved? It was but a little that I passed on from them, until I found him whom my soul loved.'

'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.'

Upon these things, again out of love for humanity, she also converses with the daughters of Jerusalem, whom in the foregoing the discourse, by comparison with the beauty of the bride that was likened to the lily, named 'thorns'; and by the oath sworn upon the powers that are in the world, she rouses them up toward the same measure of love, so that the will of the Bridegroom may become effective in them also.

It has already been said in what preceded what the 'world' is, in which are the strengths and the powers, and what the will of the One loved with all one's heart and soul is—so that there is no need for the discourse again to be lengthened by these same things, since the meaning previously contemplated by us in the sayings sufficiently makes plain also what is here to be understood in this place.

But let us go forward to what follows in the discourse, if perchance it may be possible for us also to ascend together with the perfect dove as she flies up to the height, and to hear the voice of the friends of the Bridegroom as they marvel at her ascent out of the wilderness—which indeed all the more increases the astonishment of the beholders, if the wilderness sends forth such a one, so as to imitate the beauty of the trees that in the wilderness are cultivated by the vapor of the incense.

And the incense was myrrh and frankincense.

A fine diffusion of the aromatics, through which the smoke rose upright and aloft.

'Who is this that comes up out of the wilderness like pillars of smoke, perfumed with myrrh and frankincense, with all the powders of the perfumer?' If one carefully applies his mind to what has been said, he will find the truth of the doctrine we understood beforehand.

For just as in the processions of the theaters, even though those enacting the story set before them be the same persons, nevertheless they seem to appear as different ones from different roles—those who, by the difference of their masks, change the form about themselves; and the one now appearing as a slave or a commoner is a little later seen as a champion and soldier, and again, laying aside his subordinate guise, takes up the form of a general, or even puts on the shape of a king—so also in the advances in virtue, those who are transformed from glory to glory through the desire of higher things do not always remain in the same character, but, in proportion to the perfection ever achieved by each through good things, a certain character proper to his life shines forth, becoming and appearing one after another through the increase of good things.

Therefore it seems to me that the friends of the Bridegroom are struck with wonder at what appears—they who formerly knew her as beautiful, yet as beautiful among women, and afterward adorned her beauty by the likeness of gold with studs of silver.

But now, discerning about her none of the former signs, but characterizing her from things loftier, they marvel not only at her ascent but also at whence she came running up.

For this is what intensifies the astonishment.

The one who ascends is seen as a single figure, yet what appears is likened to a grove of trees;

for stems seem to be seen running up on high and growing, but that which nourishes these stems is no rich and well-watered soil, but is parched and thirsty and desolate.

In what, then, are these stems rooted, and from where do they grow? Their root is the dust of the spices, and their watering is the vapour rising from the incense, which bedews this grove through its fragrance.

How much praise the text contains for her who is thus attested in such matters!

For the very fact that they question one another concerning her who has appeared, as though shown in another form and not according to her former shape, is a most perfect encomium of her advance in virtue, bearing abundant witness to her transformation and transposition toward the better;

for it is the voice of those who are astonished, marvelling at the form that has blossomed upon her contrary to her wonted appearance, saying:

'This one who ascends from the wilderness was formerly seen by us as black.'

How did she wash away her darksome form? How does a snow-white beauty flash upon her? The wilderness, it seems, is the cause of these things, having made her run up on high like a young shoot and change into such beauty;

for her ascent to the heights came to her not from some spontaneous chance, nor by any random and undiscerning lot, but she gained her beauty from her own labours, through self-control and diligence.

So too the soul of the prophet once became thirsty for the divine fountain, since his flesh, having become a wilderness, trackless and waterless, received within itself the divine thirst.

Therefore her ascending from the wilderness contains a testimony that she has run up to such a height through watchfulness and self-control, so as to become a wonder even to the friends of the Bridegroom, who interpret her beauty through many likenesses, since it was not possible for the whole to be comprehended by a single one;

for first they liken her beauty to a stem, and not even to one, but the comparison of the wonders in her is led on to a multitude of trees, so that the manifold and varied character of the virtues might be displayed in the sketch of the grove;

then smoke from incense is taken up into the image of her beauty, and this not simple either, but of myrrh and frankincense mingled together, so that from both there might arise one grace of the vapours, through which the beauty of the bride is sketched;

another praise of hers becomes the mingling of these spices;

for [myrrh] is fittingly suited to bodies, while frankincense, according to a certain principle, is consecrated to the honour of the divine.

He, therefore, who is about to dedicate himself to the service of God, will not otherwise be as frankincense offered up to God, unless he first become myrrh—that is, unless he mortify his members that are upon the earth, being buried together with Him who for our sake accepted death, and taking up into his own flesh, through the mortifying of his members, that myrrh which was employed for the burial of the Lord.

When these things have come to pass, every kind of virtue's spices, being finely ground within the circle of life as in a mortar, produces that sweet powder, which he who takes it up in his breathing becomes fragrant, being filled with the perfumed spirit.

After the testimony to her beauty, the friends of the Bridegroom, the preparers of the pure bridal chamber and the matchmakers who woo the pure bride, point out to her the beauty of the royal couch, that they may the more lead the bride into desire for the divine and undefiled fellowship of life with Him.

And this is the description of the King's couch, which by way of demonstrative speech they set before her eyes in the words they recount:

'Behold the couch of Solomon: sixty mighty men round about it, of the mighty men of Israel, all holding swords, being taught in war;'

'each man his sword upon his thigh, because of terror in the nights.'

That the account concerning the couch is not drawn from history would be evident to everyone from the things related bodily concerning Solomon, whose palaces and table and the rest of his manner of life in the kingdom the text described with all precision.

But concerning the couch he said nothing new or unusual, so that there is every necessity not to remain with the letter in the interpretation, but through a more careful consideration to transfer the discourse to spiritual contemplation, withdrawing the mind from the material appearance.

For what adornment of a bridal couch could come from sixty men-at-arms, whose lesson is the terrors of war, whose ornament is the sword held out before the body, and whose terror surrounds them by night? (For the text, by the word 'terror,' indicates that fearful consternation which arises from certain nocturnal alarms, which it says belongs to these men-at-arms.) Therefore in every way we must seek some meaning consonant, through these sayings, with what has been previously contemplated.

What, then, is the meaning? It seems that the divine beauty has its loveliness in what is fearful, being shown from things contrary to bodily beauty;

for here that which is gentle to the sight and soothing, and separated from every fearful and passionate disposition, is what draws one into desire, but that undefiled beauty yonder is the fearful and astounding manliness.

For since the passionate and defiled desire of bodies, lodged in the members of the flesh, lies in ambush against the mind like some band of robbers, and often leads it captive, snatching it away to its own will—and what comes to pass is enmity toward God, as the Apostle says, that 'the mind of the flesh is enmity toward God'—for this reason it follows that the divine love arises from things contrary to bodily desire; so that where the latter is governed by dissolution and relaxation and languid diffusion, there the fearful and astounding manliness becomes the material of divine love.

For when the manly spirit has terrified and put to flight the ambush of pleasure, then thus the pure beauty of the soul shines forth, defiled by no passion of bodily desire.

Therefore necessarily the King's bridal couch is encompassed round about by the men-at-arms, whose experience in warfare and whose readiness to have the sword upon the thigh works terror and consternation upon the dark reasonings which, in the nights and in the moonless gloom, lie in wait for and shoot at those who are upright in heart.

'each man his sword upon his thigh;'

for truly it belongs to those who know how one must war against flesh and blood, to have the sword fitted to the thigh.

And he who is not unacquainted with the scriptural riddles altogether perceives, from the mention of the thigh, what is signified, and that the sword is the word.

He, then, who has girded on that fearful weapon—I mean the sword of self-mastery—is the one beloved to the incorruptible couch, one of the mighty men of Israel and worthy of the roll of the sixty.

That this number has some mystical meaning we do not doubt, but it is clear only to those to whom the grace of the Spirit reveals the hidden mysteries; and we say it is well to be satisfied with the ready meanings of the text, just as, concerning the Passover, Moses lays it down that having eaten of the flesh that is set forth, one should leave uninvestigated that which is hidden in the bones of obscurity.

But if anyone is a longing seeker after the hidden marrow of the word, let him seek from Him who reveals hidden things to the worthy.

But that we may not seem to run past the passage untried, nor to be slothful concerning the divine command which bids us search the divine Scriptures, let us thus examine the account concerning the sixty:

Twelve rods, according to the number of the tribes of Israel, are taken by Moses at the divine command, but one alone out of all was preferred above the others, having budded by itself.

Again, by Joshua the son of Nun, stones equal in number to the tribes of Israel are taken out of the Jordan, of which not even one is cast aside, all being received with equal honour for a testimony of the mystery concerning the Jordan.

And there is much consequence in the things narrated;

for the text indicates a certain progress of the people toward the more perfect, in that at the beginnings of the lawgiving one rod was found alive and budding, while the rest, being dry and unfruitful, were cast aside.

But when more time had elapsed, and the legal precepts had come to be more accurately understood by them—so that they both understood and received the second circumcision brought upon them by Joshua, the stone knife cutting away from them all that was unclean (and the intelligent hearer altogether perceives what is signified by the rock and the knife)—it was likely that, the lawful and virtuous life having been confirmed among them, not one of the stones taken up in the name of the Israelite tribes should be found cast aside.

But since one must always seek the increases of good things, when the time had advanced, the power of Israel also became greater;

for so the text says in the words set before us, that 'from the mighty men of Israel'—then no longer is one stone or one rod taken from a tribe, but five men of war instead of rods or stones from each tribe, taught in war, bearing the sword; from the mighty men of Israel they encircle the divine couch, of whom for this reason not one is cast aside, because the five become the firstfruits of every tribe, whose number, when reckoned twelvefold, makes up the fullness of the sixty.

One must therefore have five fearful heavy-armed guards from each tribe for the King's couch, so that, if even one of the number of the five be lacking, that which remains also is unacceptable.

Is it then permissible henceforth to venture upon the notion of how the five from each tribe are armed, so that they may become guards of the royal couch, and how each of these five becomes fearful to the adversaries through his armour, holding out the sword from the thigh? Or is it clear that these five men-at-arms are the one man, of each of his senses holding out the sword suited to itself for the confounding of the adversaries? The sword of the eye is to look continually toward the Lord and to see uprightly and to be defiled by none of the filthy sights; the weapon of hearing likewise is the listening to divine teachings and never to admit within itself a vain word.

arming each of the senses—taste and touch and smell—correspondingly with the sword of self-control, through which there comes terror and consternation to the dark enemies, whose season for their designs against the souls becomes the night and the darkness.

For in this the prophet said that the beasts of the field seek out for themselves their wicked food from the flocks of God;

for he says, 'Thou hast made darkness, and it became night;'

'in it all the beasts of the forest shall go about, the young lions roaring to seize.'

Since, then, everyone who is saved becomes Israel (for 'not all who are of Israel are these Israel,' but as many as see God are properly named by this appellation from the very activity), and it is proper to him who sees God to look with none of his senses toward sin (for no one can look toward two masters, but the one must altogether be hated, if the other is to be loved), for this reason the whole that is saved becomes the one couch of the King;

for if all who have become pure in heart shall see God, and those who have seen God properly become and are named Israel, and this name is divided into twelve tribes according to a certain ineffable principle, well is the fullness of the saved summed up in the number of sixty, one being taken from each part, while this one is divided into five men-at-arms according to the number of the senses.

Therefore all who have put on the divine full armour encircle the one couch of the King, all having become one Israel; and, through the twelve tribes—the valour being conceived fivefold and the fullness of the valiant being altogether summed up into the number of sixty—all shall become one battle-array and one host and one couch, that is, one Church and one people and one bride, being fitted together under one commander and Ecclesiast and Bridegroom into the fellowship of one body.

And that the couch is the rest of those who are saved we are also taught from the voice of the Lord, who says to him who shamelessly knocks at the door in the night, that 'The door is already shut, and my children are with me on the bed.'

And well does the Word name 'children' those who through the weapons of righteousness have wrought out for themselves freedom from passion, teaching us through these a doctrine, that the good which accrues to us from diligence is nothing other than that which was implanted in our nature from the beginning;

for both he who has girded the sword upon his thigh has, through attentiveness to the life of virtue, put away passion, and the infant, by reason of its age, is without sensation of such passion;

for infancy does not make room for passion.

Therefore it is the same thing to learn that there are men-at-arms about the couch and infants resting upon the bed;

for in both cases the freedom from passion is one—both of those who have not admitted, and of those who have thrust away, passion;

for the former have not yet known it, while the latter have brought themselves back to such a state, being turned and having become as infants in freedom from passion; so that it is blessed to be found among these, having become either an infant, or a man-at-arms, or a true Israelite—as an Israelite, seeing God in a pure heart; as a man-at-arms, guarding in freedom from passion and in purity the King's couch, that is, his own heart; and as an infant, resting upon the blessed bed in Christ Jesus our Lord, to whom be glory unto the ages of the ages.

Homily 7. 'King Solomon made himself a litter of the woods of Lebanon. Its pillars he made of silver, and its back of gold, its steps of purple; within it a mosaic pavement, love, from the daughters of Jerusalem.'

'and in the day of the gladness of his heart.'

'Behold, thou art fair, my near one, behold, thou art fair.'

'Thine eyes are doves, apart from thy silence.'

'Thy hair is as flocks of goats, which have been revealed from Gilead.'

'Thy teeth are as flocks of the shorn sheep, which have come up from the washing, all of them bearing twins, and there is not a barren one among them.'

'Thy lips are as a scarlet thread, and thy speech is comely.'

'Thy cheek is as the rind of a pomegranate, apart from thy silence.'

'a thousand shields hang upon it, all the darts of the mighty men.'

'I will go my way to the mountain of myrrh and to the hill of frankincense.'

'Thou art wholly fair, my near one, and there is no blemish in thee.'

In many respects King Solomon is taken as a type of the true King, and by 'many' I mean those things recorded of him for the better by the Holy Scripture;

for all these things, and things of this kind, are indeed said of him typologically, yet they foreshadow the power of the Gospel.

For who is so peaceful as He who slew enmity and nailed it to the cross, who reconciled to Himself His enemies—that is, us, or rather the whole world—and broke down the middle wall of partition, 'that He might create in Himself of the two one new man, so making peace,' who 'preached peace to them that were far off and to them that were nigh' through those who bring good tidings of good things? And who is such a builder of a temple as He who lays its foundations upon the holy mountains—that is, upon the prophets and the apostles—and builds upon them, as the Apostle says, 'upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets,' the living and ensouled stones that of themselves roll into the harmony of the walls according to the prophetic word, so that, being fitted together in the unity of the faith and in the bond of peace, they may of themselves cause to grow the holy temple, that it may become a habitation of God in the Spirit? And that Solomon by his own wisdom points to the true Wisdom, no one would gainsay who looks both to the history and to the truth;

for that man is attested by the history to have surpassed the bounds of human wisdom, embracing the knowledge of all things in the breadth of his heart, so as to outstrip those who went before and to remain unattainable to those who came after; but the Lord, according to His own nature, is that very thing—which is truth and wisdom and power—in His essence.

And that the Lord is King of Israel has been attested even by His enemies, who inscribed upon the cross the confession of His kingship, that 'This is the King of the Jews';

for we accept this testimony, even though it seems to diminish the greatness of His dominion by limiting His lordship to the kingdom of the Israelites.

For it is not so; rather, from a part this inscription upon the cross ascribes to Him rule over all, in that it did not add that He is King of the Jews only;

for the word, having attested to Him absolutely the rule over the Jews, by that which was left unspoken included in this confession also the dominion over all;

for he who is king of all the earth assuredly holds dominion also over the part.

And Solomon's zeal for righteous judgment signifies the true Judge of the whole world, who says that 'The Father judgeth no man, but hath committed all judgment unto the Son';

and that 'I can of Mine own self do nothing: but as I hear, I judge; and My judgment is just.'

The highest definition of righteous judgment is not to allot to those being judged anything of one's own out of partiality or arbitrary favour, but first to hear those who are on trial in the judgment, and only then to set forth the verdict concerning them.

For this reason the power of God confesses even that it 'cannot' do certain things;

for the truth is unable to turn judgment aside from what is just.

As for the mystery concerning the Ethiopian queen—how, leaving the kingdom of the Ethiopians and crossing so great an intervening distance, she hastened to Solomon because of the fame of his wisdom, welcoming the king with precious stones and gold and the sweet fragrances of spices—it would become plain to one who considers to what of the Gospel wonders it looks;

for who does not know that at first the Church gathered from the nations was black by reason of idolatry, before it became the Church, being far removed from the knowledge of the true God by the great intervening space of ignorance? But when the grace of God appeared and Wisdom shone forth and the true light sent its ray to those sitting in darkness and in the shadow of death, then, when Israel closed its eyes to the light and withdrew itself from partaking of good things, the Ethiopians come—those from the nations who run to the faith—and those who were once far off become near, having washed away their blackness in the mystical water, so that Ethiopia stretched out her hand to God and brought gifts to the King: the spices of piety, and the gold of the knowledge of God, and the precious stones of the practice of the commandments and the virtues.

But now I will make clear in my discourse to what I look in beginning from here the contemplation of the words set before us, first setting forth the very text of the divine oracles, which runs thus:

'King Solomon made himself a litter of the wood of Lebanon; its pillars he made of silver, and its back of gold, its steps of purple; within it a pavement of love from the daughters of Jerusalem.'

As, then, in what was previously examined concerning Solomon the discourse found things through which the mystery concerning the Lord is prefigured in that person, so also through the construction of the litter is signified the Lord's dispensation on our behalf;

for in manifold ways God comes to be in those who are worthy of Him, being thus present in each according to the measure of power and worthiness that each possesses.

For one man becomes a place of God, another a house, another a throne, and another a footstool.

And there is one who becomes even a chariot, or a well-bridled horse, receiving upon himself the good Rider and accomplishing the course as seems good to Him who directs.

But as we are now taught, one also becomes His litter—he who, according to that wisdom, is fashioned not only from the wood of Lebanon but is also fittingly adorned in each part with gold and silver and purple and stones;