Sermons on the Song of Songs

“A cluster of Cyprus is my Love to me in the vineyard of Engaddi.”

“A CLUSTER of Cyprus is my Love to me.” If the Bride loves her Bridegroom in the bitterness of the myrrh, how much more in the sweetness of the cyprus-cluster? My Lord Jesus Christ, then, is as myrrh to me in His death, and in His resurrection as a cluster of delicious grapes. In this way He has made Himself for me a most salutary draught, and has given me for my drink “tears in measure.” He died “for our sins and rose again for our justification,” to the end “that we, being dead to sins, should live to justice.” Hence, my brethren, if you have wept over your sins, you have thereby drunk the pungent draught of myrrh; but its bitterness has been changed for you into the wine which “cheereth the heart of man,” if you are now established in the hope of a more perfect life. And perhaps it was thus, as a symbol of penance, that the Saviour was offered myrrh upon the cross. He refused to drink it, however, to teach us that the cup He now thirsted for was the bliss of a glorious resurrection. You also, as I have said, whilst you enjoy the wine of gladness after the bitter potion of affliction, may confidently exclaim, “A cluster of cyprus is my Love to me in the vineyards of Engaddi.” This word “Engaddi” has a manifold signification. But the various senses complete each other, and can be combined in one adequate interpretation. It may mean “the Fountain of the Kid,” or “the Baptism of the Gentiles,” and thus manifestly has reference to the tears of penitence; another meaning is “the Eye for Temptation.” Now, the eye that sheds the tears, the same it is that discovers the temptations, which, in truth, are never wanting to the life of man upon earth. For the gentile peoples, who walked in darkness, were unable to detect the snares of the tempter, and consequently to avoid them, until, through the grace of Him Who giveth sight to the blind, they were endowed with the vision of faith, until they entered the Church which has “the eye for temptation,” until they submitted themselves for instruction to persons of virtuous life, who, enlightened by the Spirit of wisdom and taught by their own experience, can truthfully say with St. Paul that they are not ignorant of Satan’s deceits and devices.

We are told that Engaddi produces balsam-bearing shrubs, which the natives cultivate and dress after the manner of vines. And perhaps it is to these the Spouse refers when she speaks of the vineyards of Engaddi. For otherwise what would be the meaning of a “cluster of Cyprus in the vineyards of Engaddi”? Who ever thought of carrying clusters of grapes from one vineyard to another? It is only to places, which produce no wine that wine is wont to be brought. Therefore, in the mystical sense, we are to understand by the vineyards of Engaddi the different branches of the Catholic Church, which abounds in the spirit of mildness, as in the sweetness of balsam, wherewith she lovingly fosters the tenderness of such as are still but little ones in Christ, and soothes the sufferings of her penitents. And if any brother should have the misfortune to fall into sin, the priests of the Church, imitating their mother’s example, shall take care to “instruct such a one in the (same) spirit of mildness, considering themselves, lest they also be tempted.” It is to typify this spiritual balsam that the Church is accustomed to anoint with material oil the bodies of all whom she admits to baptism.

But inasmuch as that poor man who “fell among robbers,” and who was carried rather in the arms than on the beast of the Good Samaritan to the inn of the Church, had his wounds healed and his health restored not by means of oil alone, but through oil and wine; therefore the spiritual physician has need to provide himself with the wine of burning zeal as well as with the oil of mercy. For to correct the froward is quite as much a part of his duty as to encourage the pusillanimous. Thus, should he observe that the wounded man, that is, the brother who has committed sin, derives no benefit from the mild and loving exhortations addressed to him, but is rather abusing his patience and clemency and taking occasion therefrom to grow more remiss and to lull his conscience to sleep in greater security; he must desist from using the oil of gentle admonition, which has proved ineffectual, and apply the sharper remedy of the mordant wine. I mean to say, such obstinate transgressors have to be reproved and reprimanded with great severity. Even the rod of ecclesiastical censure ought to be wielded to chastise the contemner of authority, whenever the occasion requires and gentler methods are found unavailing. But whence is this wine to be obtained? For the vineyards of Engaddi yield only oil. We must seek it in Cyprus, in that island which abounds with wine, and wine of the very best quality. Thence must we carry off an immense cluster of grapes, such as that which was brought from the Promised Land by the spies of Israel, hung upon a pole between two bearers, and thus presenting a most beautiful image of Our Lord Jesus Christ, Who came to us preceded by the prophets and followed by the apostles. He, therefore, who obtains such a cluster, can say with all confidence, “A cluster of Cyprus is my Love to me in the vineyards of Engaddi.”

I have now said enough concerning the cluster. Let us next consider how the wine of holy zeal is to be pressed therefrom. When a man, who is himself but a sinner, sees another committing some fault, if he feels his heart overflow with charity as with oil of the sweetest balsam, and, instead of showing indignation, manifests towards the offending brother an affection of tender compassion, we know whence this kindness comes and you have already heard, though perhaps without due attention. I have said in a preceding discourse that it is from a consideration of ourselves we learn to be gentle with others. For in order to “instruct in the spirit of meekness” the brother who has been “overtaken in any fault,” it is necessary, according to the wise prescription of St. Paul, that “thou shouldst consider thyself, lest thou also be tempted.” Indeed, is not this regard to self the very root of that fraternal charity enjoined in the law, “Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself”? For it is quite certain that our love for our fellow-men has its source deep down amongst the most intimate and primordial feelings of the human heart, and that it is from the instinctive, natural affection wherewith each loves himself, as from a vivifying, soil-sprung sap, it draws the nourishment and energy by which, under the influence of heavenly grace, it is enabled to bring forth the fruits of piety, causing us to esteem it a duty not to deny to any of those who participate in our nature, I mean to any man, the good which, by natural necessity, we desire for ourselves; but rather to share it with all, freely and spontaneously, according to our capacity and the wants of our brethren, as if they were entitled to such communication by belonging to the same human family. From human nature, therefore, as it was in its sinlessness, is derived that balsam of sweet and delightful savour. And its presence should be revealed in the disposition, felt and made manifest, rather to pity than reproach the transgressor.