雅歌講道 第 1 章 第 9/20 段

through which His love becomes active—not in all does the activity of love find room, but only if some daughter of the Jerusalem above, the free one, be recognized through her life.

That, then, he who bears God within himself is a litter of Him who is enthroned within him, would be plain even before our words;

for he who, according to holy Paul, no longer lives himself but has Christ living within him and gives proof of Christ speaking in him—this man is properly called, and becomes, a litter of Him who is borne within him and carried by him.

But this is not the thing sought after;

rather it is more fitting to consider carefully what the variety and manifoldness of the material intends, and how gold and silver and purple and stones, and the nature of the wood, are taken together into the construction of the litter.

And yet Paul, the wise master-builder, judges the wood, along with the hay and stubble, to be rejected for the building of the house, as being consumed by the destructive power of the fire that tests the work;

not remaining in what it is, but changing itself into gold or silver or some other of the precious things;

for in the great house of God, says the Apostle, there are vessels by nature of gold and of silver—hinting, as I think, through these at the incorporeal and intelligent creation—and others of wood and of clay, perhaps signifying through these ourselves, whom disobedience made earthen and turned into clay, while the sin that came through the tree wrought us into vessels of wood instead of gold.

And the use of the vessels is also apportioned according to the worth of the material;

for those of the more precious material are set apart for honour, while others are cast aside for dishonourable service.

But what does Paul say concerning such things? That the vessel has authority, out of its own free choice, to become golden instead of wooden, or silver instead of earthen;

'For if a man,' he says, 'purge himself, he shall be a vessel unto honour, prepared for the Master unto every good work.'

Perhaps, then, through what has been said we are somehow brought toward the contemplation of the word set before us;

the mountain Lebanon is mentioned in many places of Holy Scripture as an indication of the adverse power, as when it says through the prophet that 'The Lord shall break the cedars of Lebanon, and shall crush them and Lebanon itself as the calf'—clearly that calf which was ground down in the wilderness by Moses and became drinkable to the Israelites by reason of its fineness.

For it is thereby shown through the prophecy that not only the evils that spring from the adverse power, but also the mountain itself—the first root of evil, Lebanon, which nourishes the material of such cedars—shall be brought to non-existence.

We, then, were once the trees of Lebanon, so long as we were rooted in it through the wicked life and the deceit of idols;

but since we were cut from there by the rational axe and came into the hands of the Craftsman, He made us His own litter, transmuting the nature of the wood through regeneration into silver and gold and into flourishing purple and into the radiance of the stones.

And just as the Apostle says that God apportioned to each fittingly the gifts of the Holy Spirit, and to one He gives prophecy according to the proportion of faith, and to another some other of the operations, according to that for which each is fitted and able to receive the grace—becoming either an eye of the body of the Church, or set as a hand, or supporting in the place of a foot—so also in the construction of the litter one becomes a pillar, another a step, and another the part at the head, which he called the 'back' (or headrest); and there are some who are appointed to the interior.

For all of these, according to a certain reason, the Craftsman devises the material not of one single kind for the adornment, but all are indeed adorned with beauty, while for each of these a different and suitable comeliness is devised.

The pillars of the litter, then, are silver; their steps, purple; the headrest that goes beneath the head, on which the Bridegroom reclines His own head, is of gold; and all the interior is adorned with the precious stones.

One must therefore understand as pillars the pillars of the Church, for whom the word is silver, precisely pure and refined by fire, who have ascended to the kingdom in the loftiness of their conduct (for purple is reckoned a special mark of kingship); and their governing part, on which He who fashioned the litter reclines His head, is the gold of the pure doctrines; while whatever things are hidden and secret are beautified by the pure conscience of the precious stones, through all of which love was composed from the daughters of Jerusalem.

(each thing wholly directed toward the perfecting of the saints), so that through these names of the things that contribute to the construction of the litter one may understand priests and teachers, and the venerable virginity within the litter, flashing forth by the purity of the virtues as by certain radiances of stones.

But concerning these things, so much.

The word that follows contains an exhortation addressed to the daughters of Jerusalem, made by the bride.

For just as the great Paul counted it a loss if he did not share his own good things with all (wherefore he said such things to those who heard: 'Be as I am, for I also was once as you are;'

and that 'Be imitators of me, even as I also am of Christ'), so also this bride, who loves mankind, having been counted worthy of the divine mysteries of the Bridegroom, when she saw the couch and became the litter of the King, cries out to the young maidens (and these would be the souls of those being saved), saying: How long will you shut yourselves within the cave of this life? Come forth from the veils of nature and behold the wondrous sight, becoming daughters of Zion; gaze upon the crown fittingly resting upon the head of the King, which His mother placed upon Him according to the voice of the prophet, who says, 'Thou hast set upon His head a crown of precious stone.'

By all means, none of those who have given thought to judging discourses concerning God will quibble over the sense of the name—that a mother is mentioned instead of a father—taking one and the same meaning from either word.

For since the Divine is neither male nor female (for how could anything of this sort be conceived concerning the Godhead, when this does not even remain permanently among us human beings, but when we all become one in Christ we put off the marks of this difference together with the whole old man?), for this reason, for the indication of the ineffable nature, every name that is found is of equal force, since neither the meaning of the feminine nor that of the masculine defiles the undefiled nature.

For this reason, in the Gospel the Father is said to make the marriage for the Son, and the prophet says to God that 'Thou hast set upon His head a crown of precious stone,' while here it is said that the crown was placed upon the Bridegroom by the mother.

Since, then, the marriage is one, and the bride is one, and the crown is set upon the Bridegroom by one, it makes no difference at all whether one calls the Only-begotten God the Son of God or the Son of His love, according to Paul's expression—the power that arrays Him as bridegroom for our cohabitation being one under either name.

'Come forth, then,' says the bride to the young maidens, 'and become daughters of Zion,' so that from a lofty watchtower (for so is Zion interpreted) you may be able to behold the wondrous sight—the Bridegroom bearing the crown.

And the Church becomes His crown, encircling His head all around through the ensouled stones; and the weaver of such a crown is love, which, whether one calls it 'mother' or 'love,' he will not err;

for 'God is love,' according to the voice of John.

And the bride says that He rejoices in this crown, exulting in the bridal adornment;

for He who has made the Church His consort truly rejoices, being crowned with the virtues of those who are eminent in her.

But it would be better to set forth the divine words themselves, verbatim, which run thus:

'Go forth and behold, O daughters of Zion, King Solomon in the crown wherewith his mother crowned him in the day of his espousals, and in the day of the gladness of his heart.'

The word, then, having welcomed such love for mankind on the part of the bride—since in imitation of the Master she too wills that 'all be saved and come to the knowledge of the truth'—renders her more venerable, becoming a herald of her beauty and a painter of it;

for not simply is the praise of her comeliness given, containing some general commendation of her beauty, but the word dwells lovingly upon each of her members, bestowing upon each member its own encomium through comparison and likeness.

'Behold, thou art fair, my neighbour; behold, thou art fair;'

having imitated the Master's love for mankind and, in likeness to Abraham, bidden the young maidens to go forth—each from her own land and from the kinship pertaining to the senses—so that they might see the pure Bridegroom crowning the Church, she truly becomes a neighbour to the lordly goodness, having drawn near to God through love toward her neighbour.

'Thou art fair, then,' says the word to her, 'having drawn near to the good by thy good purpose.'

And the repetition of the praise shows the truthfulness of the testimony;

for the divine law declares that the truth is confirmed by double testimony.

For this reason it says, 'Behold, thou art fair, my neighbour; behold, thou art fair.'

But since the whole Church is one body of Christ, and in the one body, as the Apostle says, there are many members, and all the members do not have the same function, but God formed the eye in the body, and another member was planted as an ear, and there are some who through the operation of the powers become hands, and some are called feet who bear the burdens, and there would be also some work of taste and of smell, and all the several parts of which the human body is composed—it is possible to find in the common body of the Church lips and teeth and tongue, breasts and belly and neck, and, as Paul says, even those very parts of the body that seem to be unseemly.

For this reason the exact appraiser of beauty makes his praise of those members that please him, out of the whole body, proper and suitable to each.

He begins his praises from the most important of the members.

For what among our members is more precious than the eyes, through which the perception of light comes to be, from which arises the recognition of both friends and foes, by which we distinguish what is our own from what is another's, which become the guides and teachers of every work, and the connatural, inseparable escorts of an unerring journey? Their placement, set above the other organs of sense, demonstrates the superior worth of the benefit that comes to us from them for the conduct of life.

It is altogether plain to the hearers to what members of the Church the praise of the eyes refers.

Samuel the seer was an eye (for so he was called); Ezekiel was an eye, appointed by God to watch over the salvation of those kept in his charge; Micah the seer was an eye, and Moses who beheld—he who for this reason was even named a god—was an eye; and eyes were all those who were appointed to lead the people.

These the men of that time used to call 'seers.'

And now those who fill the place of those men in the body of the Church are properly named eyes, if they look accurately toward the Sun of righteousness, in no way dimmed by the works of darkness, and if they distinguish their own from another's, in knowing that everything apparent and temporary is alien to our nature, while what is our own is that which is set before us through hope, whose possession abides perpetually and cannot be taken away.

It is also the work of eyes to discern the friendly from the hostile, so as to love the true friend with the whole heart and soul and strength, but to show a perfect hatred against the enemy of our life.

But he too who is the guide of what must be done, the teacher of what is profitable, and the one who leads by the hand on the journey to God, accurately performs the work of the pure and healthy eye, being displayed above the rest, in the likeness of the bodily eyes, through his lofty manner of life.

Therefore, from this point the Word begins to praise the beauty of the bride, and says, 'Your eyes are doves.'

For seeing that those set forth in the rank of eyes were guileless as regards evil, and approving the simplicity and integrity of their character, He named them doves.

For guilelessness is proper to doves.

Or perhaps the Word bears witness to some such praise of the eyes as this:

that this one takes up its form through the eye, in the manner of a mirror, receiving the impression of the visible shape.

Whenever, then, the one who has received this power of sight in the Church looks toward nothing material or corporeal, the spiritual and immaterial life is set aright within him.

And such a life is conformed by the grace of the Holy Spirit.

Therefore the most perfect praise of the eyes is that the form of their life should be conformed to the grace of the Holy Spirit.

For the dove is the Holy Spirit.

And the pair of eyes is praised, so that the whole person, both the visible and the intelligible, might come to be in a state of praise.

For this reason he added yet another superlative to the praise, saying, 'Besides your silence.'

For of the good life, one part is manifest, so as to be known even to men, but another is hidden and ineffable, beheld by God alone.

He, then, who beholds the unwrought and sees into what is hidden, bears witness that in the person being praised the thing kept silent is more than what is seen.

Through which he says, 'Your eyes are doves besides your silence.'

For that which is marveled at through silence is beyond what has already been praised.

In due course he advances the encomium of beauty, transferring the discourse to the hair, and says, 'Your hair is like flocks of goats that have been revealed from Gilead.'

It is fitting first to understand the nature of hair, and then in this way to recognize the praise that the Word bestows on the bride through the hair.

Now, hair has been named by Paul the glory of a woman, and he says that the hair has been given to the woman in place of a covering.

And he says that modesty and self-control are the fitting covering for women, writing thus in these words: that 'as is proper for women who profess godliness, they should adorn themselves with modesty and self-control'—so that through these, the hair upon the head, in which the woman glories, is understood, by Paul's wisdom, to be modesty and self-control.

For it is not fitting that any other glory be named upon the soul that professes godliness, except modesty and self-control, which he named hair, and which, when she does not have it, 'she shames her own head,' as the Apostle says.

But if Paul philosophized these things concerning hair, then the Apostle's thoughts ought to be brought to bear on the praise of the Church in the discourse about the hair, according to the present utterance which says, 'Your hair is like flocks of goats that have been revealed from Gilead.'

For through these things the Word makes the virtuous manner of life the object of praise.

But it is fitting that this also be added to the discourse about hair: that the locks are devoid of all vital sensation.

For it is no small thing toward the increase of the encomium, that there is in the hairs no perception either of pain or of pleasure.

For the body, from which they grow, is pained when they are plucked out, but the hair itself receives no perception of what happens to it, whether it be cut, or burned, or smoothed by some cosmetic care.

And to be devoid of sensation is proper to the dead.

Therefore, he who admits no perception of the things eagerly pursued in this world—neither puffed up by glory and honor, nor grievously affected by insult and dishonor, but keeping himself in the same state with respect to each of the opposites—this man is the praised hair of the bride, appearing outright dead and unmoved toward the affairs of the world, whether they be thus or otherwise.

But if the excellence of the hair is compared to flocks of goats revealed from Gilead—what one ought to know accurately about these things we have not yet been able to grasp; yet we conjecture that, just as the king, having transformed the woods of Lebanon into gold and silver and purple and precious stones, fashioned for himself a litter, so likewise the good Shepherd knows how, having received flocks of goats, to change into sheepfolds the goatherds' flocks of Mount Gilead.

—of the beauty of the bride, through which self-control and modesty and continence and the mortification of the body are signified, according to the previously contemplated interpretation.

Or perhaps Elijah too contributes something toward the contemplation of the goats, who philosophized for a long time upon Mount Gilead—he who above all led the way in the life of continence, arid in appearance, shaggy in hair, covered with a goat's skin instead of any soft garment. All, then, who order their own life according to that prophet become an adornment of the Church, laboring together at virtue with one another, in flock-like fashion, according to the manner of the ascetic life now prevailing.

But that such flocks were revealed from Gilead holds a superlative even greater than the wonder, because our transition to the philosophy according to God came out of the gentile life.

For it was not Zion, His holy mountain, that led the way in such a manner of life; rather, the nation devoted to idols came to so great a transformation of life that it adorned the head of the bride with the excellences that accord with virtue.

Then the Word sets forth the teeth in the sequence of praises, having passed over the encomia of the mouth and the lips—which it is worthy not to leave unexamined.

Why ever are the teeth set before the lips in the praises? Perhaps one might say, wishing to display the beauty more elegantly, that a smile of the mouth is subtly indicated together through the sketch of the teeth; but I, looking to something else, reckon that the beauty of the teeth takes precedence in the praises before the encomia of the mouth.

For after this he did not leave even the lip un-praised, saying that her lips are a scarlet cord and her speech comely.

What, then, is it that I conjecture concerning this? The best order in learning is first to be taught, and then to speak.

And one who says that lessons are the food of the soul will not miss the truth.

And just as, having ground the bodily nourishment with the teeth, we make it suitable to be assimilated by the inward parts, in the same way there is a certain finely-grinding power of teachings in the soul, through which the lesson becomes profitable to the one who receives it.

The critical and discerning instructors of doctrines, then, through whom teaching becomes readily grasped and profitable to us, I say are figuratively named teeth by the Word.

For which reason the praise of the teeth comes first, and then in this way the encomium of the lips is brought in.

For the lip would not have blossomed with rational beauty, had not those teeth, through the more diligent understanding of the lessons, cast upon the lips the grace that is in words. This, then, we have observed to be the reason for the sequence in the praises concerning the teeth.

But it would be timely to examine the praise itself: how it compares the beauty in the teeth to the shorn flocks, which now, having come up from the washing, all alike exult in twin births.

The praise runs thus according to the text:

'Your teeth are like flocks of the shorn, which have come up from the washing, all of them bearing twins, and there is no barren one among them.'

If, then, we were to look to the corporeal aspect of the image, I do not know how anyone could say that the teeth are praised through the comparison with prolific flocks.

For the praise of teeth is their firmness, and their harmonious placement, and their being firmly implanted in the gums through an even and consistent arrangement; but the flocks coming up from the washing, scattered with their twin offspring over the wooded glens, what sort of comeliness of teeth do they sketch by their own image? It is not easy to grasp offhand.

These stand together in rows, harmoniously holding to one another; but those are scattered apart from one another, spread thin for the need of pasturing.

But also, in comparison to the tooth, which is bare by nature, that which bears wool is not well-matched.

the wool, and to those that have washed off the filth of the body in the washing.

What, then, have we supposed concerning these things? Those who, through clearer exposition, finely grind the divine mysteries, so that this spiritual food may become readily receivable by the body of the Church—these accomplish the work of the teeth, taking the thick and compacted bread of the Word into their own mouth and, through more subtle contemplation, rendering it easily eaten by the souls of those who receive it; as, for example (for it is better to set forth the thought by way of illustrations), the blessed Paul at one point sets before us simply and without elaboration, like some unwrought morsel, the precept of the Law, saying, 'You shall not muzzle an ox that treads out the grain'; but again, softening it through his further explanation, he makes the intent of the Law readily receivable, saying, 'Is it for oxen that God is concerned? Surely it was written altogether for our sakes'—and many other such things, as, 'Abraham had two sons, one by the slave woman and one by the free woman.'

This is the unwrought bread.

But how does he, finely grinding it, make it edible for those being nourished? He takes the narrative up into two covenants, the one bearing children for slavery, the other setting free from slavery.

In this way also, taking the whole Law as a thick body (that we may not spend our time speaking of each particular), he grinds it fine through contemplation, working it into something spiritual out of what was corporeal, saying, 'We know that the Law is spiritual.'

What, then, we have observed in the case of Paul—that he fulfilled the function of teeth for the Church in finely grinding the clarity of the doctrines—this we say also of everyone who, in imitation of him, makes the mysteries plain to us.

Therefore the teeth of the Church are those who finely grind for us and chew as cud the unwrought herbage of the divine oracles.

Just as, then, the divine Apostle sketches the life of those who reach out for the good work of the episcopate, saying in each particular what sort of person the one who has taken hold of the priesthood ought to be—so as, along with all else, to have also the gift of teaching—so here the Word wishes those appointed to the service of teeth in the Church to be, first, shorn, that is, stripped of every material burden; then, cleansed by the washing of conscience from every defilement of flesh and spirit; besides this, always ascending through progress and never dragged back into the pit; and, above all, to exult in the twofold offspring of good conceptions, in every form of virtue, and to be barren in none of the noble pursuits.

And the twofold offspring becomes a riddle of good repute in each of the things understood within us, so that such teeth are bearers of twins, begetting in the soul dispassion, and in the bodily life seemliness.

To these he adds, in due sequence, the fitting praise of the lips, likening the beauty to a scarlet-dyed cord, of which he himself supplied the interpretation, naming the cord a comely speech.

But this has already been contemplated beforehand in what preceded, how the beauty in the lips is made comely by the service of the teeth.

For by the guidance of the teeth (that is, of the teachers) the mouth of the Church speaks in unison.

For this reason the teeth are first shorn and washed and are not barren and bear twins, and then the lips are flushed with the scarlet hue, whenever the whole Church, according to the harmony of the good, becomes one lip and one voice.

And the image of the beauty is twofold.

For he does not say simply that the lips are a cord, but he added also the bloom of their fair color, so that the mouth of the Church might be adorned by both together, by the cord and by the scarlet, each in its own distinctive way in either respect.

For by the cord she is taught unanimity of mind, so that the whole may become one cord and a single strand twisted together out of diverse threads; while through the scarlet she is taught to look toward the blood by which we were redeemed, and always to carry upon her lips the confession of him who bought us back through his blood.

By these things the comeliness of the Church's lips is fulfilled, whenever both the faith of her confession shines forth and love is interwoven with faith.

And if it is fitting, as it were by a certain definition, to encompass the illustration, we shall thus define what has been said:

The scarlet cord is faith working through love, so that by the faith the scarlet is signified, and by the love the cord is interpreted.

That the lips of the bride are adorned with these things, the Truth itself bears witness.

But the phrase 'thy speech is comely' has no need of any subtler contemplation or of any other interpretation;

for the Apostle, going before, has already made plain that this speech is the word of faith which we preach, saying: 'If thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thy heart that God hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved.'

For with the heart one believes unto righteousness, and with the mouth one confesses unto salvation.

This is the comely speech, through which the lips of the Church, after the manner of that scarlet cord, are beautifully brought into bloom.

But after the beauty of the mouth, the Bridegroom is also well pleased with the ruddy hue of the cheek.

This part of the face common usage calls, by a loose extension of the term, an 'apple.'

Accordingly he likens the apple of the cheek to the rind of the pomegranate, writing the praise itself thus in these very words:

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

Now that what is praised is modesty, it is easy for anyone to reckon from the sequence of what has been contemplated;

for the Word, having given the Church a body in the form of the bride and having apportioned each of the virtues suitably to the sketch of the beauty of the countenance, now, through the ruddiness that glows upon the cheeks, fittingly praises self-control, having adorned it with modesty under the riddle of the pomegranate;

for this fruit is nourished with a surface that is astringent and inedible.

Wherefore it is well and fittingly transferred, by way of contemplation, to the achievement of self-control;