Sermons on the Song of Songs

But sin has played havoc with our natural benignity, just as, in the words of the Wise Man, “Dying flies spoil the sweetness of the ointment.” And because we have not in ourselves wherewith to repair the damage done, by a most lamentable change we find ourselves fallen to that condition of which Holy Scripture truly says, “The imagination and thought of man’s heart are prone to evil from his youth.” Nothing good, therefore, but something evil is designated by the youthfulness of that younger son who demands the sequestration of his own portion of the patrimony, and wants a division of the inheritance which would be more sweetly enjoyed in common, yea, who would have exclusive possession of that which communication does not diminish, but which is lost when divided. For it is written that “he wasted his substance living riotously” with evil companions. Who are these evil companions? It seems to me that by them, as by the “dying flies” which “spoil the ointment” of our innocence, we are to understand our carnal passions, against which Holy Scripture most wisely warns us, where it says, “Go not after thy lusts.” And very properly are the “flies” represented as “dying,” since “the world passeth away and the concupiscence thereof.” Thus, by endeavouring to secure to ourselves the private and personal good of sensual gratification, we forfeit the enjoyment of the sweeter good which is social and communal. But how filthy and venomous must these flies of passion be, seeing that they can so destroy the original beauty of our nature, so torment our minds with cares and anxieties, so “spoil the sweetness of the ointment” of social love and good fellowship! Hence, in the Gospel, man is called the “younger son,” because having degraded his nature by following the lusts of his thoughtless youth, he lost all the vital sap of virile sobriety and prudence. As a consequence, his soul has been dried up and abandoned to bitterness, so that he now despises everyone except himself, “being without affection.”

Accordingly, from the very beginning of this his most unholy and most unhappy youth, “the imagination and thought of man’s heart are prone to evil,” and his fallen nature more inclined to anger than to pity. Indeed, it may be said that man has put off his nature completely, inasmuch as he is unwilling that other men should receive in their necessities the assistance which he would not have denied himself in his own. A man himself and a sinner, he nevertheless judges, despises, and scorns other men who are sinners, “not considering himself, lest he also be tempted.” From this deplorable condition, as I have already remarked, human nature will never of itself be able to rise, nor can it recover unaided the ointment of spontaneous benignity, the sweetness whereof has been spoiled by sin. But grace can accomplish what is impossible to nature. Whomsoever, therefore, the Holy Spirit by His unction deigns out of compassion to re-invest in his original and natural kindliness, he shall be restored forthwith to the integrity of his manhood, yea, shall receive from grace a perfection more sublime than ever belonged to his nature. For “He shall sanctify him in faith and meekness,” and shall give him not ointment only, but also balsam “in the vineyards of Engaddi.”

To me it seems evident that the “better gifts” flow from the “fountain of the kid,” by being washed in which the kids are transformed into lambs, and sinners transferred from the left hand to the right, in order that “where sin abounded, grace might more abound.” And you also, my brethren, do you not suppose that he may be regarded as reinstated in his manhood, who, having laid aside the ferocity of a worldly disposition and recovered, even with the added unguent of grace, the ointment of human gentleness, so utterly spoiled by the “dying flies” of carnal concupiscence, discovers now in the very human nature in which he participates, or rather which he is, the motive and the measure of the meekness to be exercised towards other men, and recoils in horror, as from the open jaws of a wild beast, from the bare thought not only of doing to any man the evil he would not have done to himself, but even of omitting to do to all the good he wishes done to himself? This, as I believe, is the source of the oil. But whence comes the wine? Unquestionably from the “cluster of Cyprus.” For if you love the Lord Jesus with your whole heart and with your whole soul and with all your strength, can you possibly restrain your feelings when you behold Him exposed to insult and injury? No, surely not. Rather each one of you, carried away by the spirit of righteousness and the spirit of zeal, “like a mighty man that hath been surfeited with wine,” and inflamed with the holy ardour of Phinees, shall say with the Psalmist, “My zeal hath made me pine away, because my enemies forgot Thy words,” and with the Saviour, “The zeal of Thy house hath eaten me up.” Fervent zeal, therefore, is this wine, pressed from the cluster of Cyprus; for an inebriating chalice is the love of Christ. “Our God,” so we read, “is a consuming fire,” and the Prophet Jeremias declares that “from above He hath sent fire into my bones,” because he was all inflamed with divine charity. Having, then, the oil of meekness from the love of your neighbour, and the wine of zeal from your love of God, you may securely undertake to heal the wounds of the man who “fell among robbers,” being fully qualified to act the part of the Good Samaritan. Securely also can you say with the Spouse, “A cluster of Cyprus is my Love to me in the vineyards of Engaddi.” That is to say, “the zeal of justice is the love of my Beloved to me amidst the affections of fraternal piety.”

Let so much suffice for the present. As often on other occasions, so now also my weakness obliges me to break off. You know yourselves, my brethren, how frequently I am thus compelled to interrupt my discourses and to reserve their completion for another day. But am I complaining? No, no! “I am ready for scourges,” knowing well that what I suffer is far less than my deserts. Let Him scourge me by all means, let Him scourge me, I repeat, as a wicked servant, provided only my stripes be accounted as merits. Perchance after punishment I may obtain mercy from Him Who can find in me no good to reward, the Bridegroom of the Church, Jesus Christ Our Lord, Who is over all things, God blessed for ever. Amen.