Sermons on the Song of Songs

“While the King was at His repose, my spikenard sent forth the odours thereof.”

“While the King was at His repose, my spikenard sent forth the odour thereof.” These, my brethren, are the words of the Spouse, the discussion of which I postponed until to-day. This is the answer she made when rebuked by her Bridegroom. Yet it is addressed, not to Him, but to His companions, as you may clearly see from the words themselves. For she does not say, speaking in the second person, “While Thou, O King, wast at Thy repose”; but, “While the King was at His repose,” which makes it evident that she is speaking, not to Him, but only of Him. We may suppose, then, that the Bridegroom, after reprimanding and humbling the Spouse, as we have seen, perceiving her extreme confusion from the blush which mantled her cheeks, withdrew from the company, in order to give her an opportunity of speaking her mind freely in His absence, and, in case she should pass from excessive boldness to excessive timidity and depression of mind, as commonly happens, that she might receive consolation and encouragement from the charity of His companions. Yet He did not neglect to comfort her Himself as far as He judged it necessary at the time. For to make it manifest how pleasing she was to Him, even whilst He corrected her, inasmuch as she bore that correction patiently and in the proper spirit, He could not leave her until He broke forth in praise of her—out of the abundant love, no doubt, with which His Heart was filled—and spoke in admiration of her beautiful cheeks and neck. Therefore, His companions also, who have remained with her, address her in words of gracious kindness and offer her presents, knowing this to be the will of their Lord. Hence, it is to them that she directs her answer. Such, I think, is the literal sense and the sequence of our present text.

But before proceeding to extract the kernel of spiritual truth from this shell of literal meaning, I wish to make one brief remark. Happy the superior whose reprimands are received in that spirit of humble submission of which we have here so perfect a model! Would to God there was no necessity for reprimands at all! That would be better still. But since “in many things we all offend,” it is not permitted me to keep silence, having an obligation in virtue of my office, and a still more urgent impulse from fraternal charity, to reprove transgressors. But if I administer a reproof and so do my part, and if that reproof, proceeding from me, instead of accomplishing its purpose, and correcting the fault to which it was applied, should return to me empty, like a dart which impinges on a hard substance and rebounds, what think you, my brethren, shall be then my feelings? Shall I not be filled with grief and anguish? And to borrow something from the words of my master, St. Paul, since my own wisdom suffices me not, “I am straitened between two and what I shall choose I know not,” whether to approve of my action in making the correction, as being only what I was bound to do; or to repent of it, because it has not succeeded according to my desires and expectations. It was my design to slay an enemy and to deliver a brother. But so far from accomplishing this, my zeal has produced just the contrary effect. For it has wounded my brother’s soul and increased his guilt by adding contempt of authority to his original fault. “The house of Israel,” says the Lord through His Prophet Ezechiel, “will not hearken to thee because they will not hearken to Me.” See now, my brother, what is the Majesty which thou hast treated with contempt. Do not imagine thou art despising only me. The Lord has spoken it, and what He said to Israel by His Prophet, He repeated with His own Lips to His apostles, in the words, “He that despiseth you despiseth Me.” I am not indeed a prophet, nor am I an apostle. Nevertheless, I dare to say it, I hold the office and discharge the duties of both a prophet and an apostle. I am burdened with the cares and responsibilities of those who are far beyond me by the merit of their lives. Although it be to my own great confusion, although it be to my own awful danger, although I cannot pretend to rival the Lawgiver’s virtue or to equal him in grace, still I sit on the chair of Moses. What then? Is that chair less deserving of respect and submission because it is occupied by one unworthy? Surely not. Even if it were Scribes and Pharisees that sat on it we have still the command of Christ: “What they say, do ye.”

As a rule, in such cases, impatience is added to contempt. Not only does the person reprimanded refuse to correct his fault, but he even manifests anger against the superior who has reproved him, like the frenzied patient who repels the hand of the physician. Strange perversity! He is angry with the friend who comes to heal, but shows no indignation with the enemy who has hurt him! For there is an enemy who with his arrows “shoots in the dark the upright of heart,” and it is he who has now wounded thee even unto death. Dost thou feel no resentment against him? And art thou enraged against me, whose only desire is to make thee whole? “Be angry,” says the Psalmist, “and sin not.” If thy anger be directed against thy sin, not only dost thou not sin anew, but thy previous sin is blotted out. But now thou refusest the remedy and thy sin remains. Yes, thou addest sin to sin by giving way to unreasonable anger, and that is a sin of exceeding malice.