Sermons on the Song of Songs

“The voice of the turtle is heard in our land.”

“The voice of the turtle is heard in our land.” My brethren, I cannot dissemble the joy I feel when, now for the second time, I hear Him “who cometh from heaven” speaking of the earth as His home. And He speaks with as much kindliness and familiarity as if He were in truth but one of the children of earth. The Speaker is the Bridegroom, Who after saying that “the flowers have appeared,” explicitly added, “in our land”; and here again announces that “the voice of the turtle is heard in our land.” Shall we suppose such expressions—I shall not say so unworthy of, but—so unusual with God, to be without special significance? Nowhere, as I believe, does He speak in this way of heaven, and nowhere else of the earth. Consider, then, how sweet a condescension it is that the God of heaven should speak of the earth as “our land.” “All you that are earth-born, and you sons of men,” attend and see how “the Lord hath done great things for us.” He hath done great things for the earth, great things for the Spouse whom He has been pleased to take to Himself from the earth. “In our land,” He says. This is not the language of lordship or domination, but the language of fellowship and friendship. The Word is speaking here not as the Lord but as the Bridegroom. What? He is our Creator and does He make Himself as one of us? But it is love that speaks, and love knows nothing of lordship. For this is the Canticle of love and ought to contain no other sentiments than the sentiments of love. God also loves, although the love wherewith He loves is nothing really distinct from Himself. Yea, He loves all the more vehemently for that He is rather Himself substantial Love than possesses love as a quality. And those whom He loves He regards not as servants but as friends. Hence from our Master He has become our Friend. For certainly He would not have called the disciples His friends unless they were so in truth.

Do you observe how even Majesty must yield to love? So it is, my brethren. Love can no more look up to, than it can look down upon, any one. It allows of no distinction between lovers who truly love, but ever brings high and low to an equality in itself. Indeed, not alone does it make them equal, but it even makes them one. Perhaps you have imagined that God is to be excepted from this law of love? But the Apostle tells you that “he who is joined to the Lord is one spirit.” Why should we be surprised at this, since He has made Himself as one of ourselves? I have not said enough. For He has made Himself not merely as one, but really one of ourselves. He is truly Man. Hence it is that He speaks of “our land,” not as a lord but simply as a citizen. And why should He not? It is from the earth He has obtained His Spouse and the very substance of His Body; the Bridegroom Himself is also from the earth, and the “Two in one flesh.” If Bridegroom and Bride have but one flesh, why not also one home-land? “The heaven of heaven is the Lord’s,” says the Psalmist, “but the earth He hath given to the children of men.” Therefore, the Word as the Son of man has inherited the earth, as Lord He dominates it, as Creator He governs it, and as Bridegroom He shares it with His Bride. For when He speaks of the earth as “our land,” He clearly renounces His exclusive proprietorship, and makes Himself a joint-owner. Thus far I have been giving you the thoughts suggested to my mind by the Bridegroom’s gracious condescension in using the familiar expression “our land.” Let us now see what further lessons can be gathered from the words of our text.

“The voice of the turtle is heard in our land.” Taken according to the literal sense, this also is a sign that “winter is past,” and that “the time of pruning is come.” The voice of the turtle does not sound so very sweet; but very sweet are the things it signifies in the mystical sense. The bird itself does not cost much to buy; yet priceless in value is that which it typifies. Its voice, which mourns rather than sings, reminds us of our banishment. Gladly, my brethren, will I listen to that preacher who seeks not to gain applause for himself but compunction for me. Thou wilt prove thyself a turtle indeed, if thou teachest sinners to mourn. But if thou wouldst bring others to penance, thou must rely less upon thine eloquence and persuasion and more upon the example of thine own compunction. Example is in many things more efficacious than counsel, but it is so especially in this matter. Thou wilt add to thy voice the “voice of power,” if thou art known to have first convinced thyself practically of what thou art endeavouring to bring home to thy hearers. The preaching of thy life is more powerful than the preaching of thy lips. Practise what thou preachest, and thus not only shalt thou the more easily convert me, but thou shalt also deliver thyself from no light reproach. For then no one can any longer apply to thee what is said in the Gospel, “They bind heavy and insupportable burdens, and lay them on men’s shoulders; but with a finger of their own they will not move them.” Nor needest thou then have any fear that it shall ever be said to thee, “Thou that teachest others, teachest not thyself.”

“The voice of the turtle is heard in our land.” So long as men received for their service of God only the temporal and earthly reward of a “land flowing with milk and honey,” they were very far from considering themselves as exiles on earth, very far from mourning like turtles, yearning for their heavenly country. Rather they mistook for their fatherland the place of their banishment, and gave themselves up to eating what was fat and drinking what was pleasant. During all this time, therefore, the voice of the turtle had not yet been heard in our land. But when the promise of the kingdom of heaven was made to them, then men understood that they “have not here a lasting city”; then they began with all eagerness to “seek one that is to come”; and then, for the first time, the voice of the turtle was distinctly heard in our land. For whilst each holy soul was now longing for the presence of Christ, and looking impatiently for the coming of His kingdom, and with sighs and tears saluting from afar her much-desired home in heaven, does it not seem to you, my brethren, that every such soul then on earth was acting the part of a most chaste and mournful turtle? From that time onward the voice of the turtle has been heard in our land. Why should not the absence of Christ excite me to constant tears and daily groanings? “Lord, all my desire is before Thee, and my groaning is not hidden from Thee.” “I have laboured in my groanings,” as Thou knowest. But blessed is he who can add with the Psalmist, “Every night I will wash my bed, I will water my couch with my tears.” But such groanings are familiar “not only to me, but to all them also that love His coming.” For this our mourning is the fulfilment of the word of the Lord which He addressed to the disciples of John, “Can the children of the Bridegroom mourn as long as the Bridegroom is with them? But the days will come when the Bridegroom shall be taken away from them, and then they shall mourn.”—As if He should say, “and then the voice of the turtle shall be heard in our land.”