Sermons on the Song of Songs

“Our bed is flourishing; the beams of our houses are of cedar, our rafters are of cypress trees.”

“Our bed is flourishing; the beams of our houses are of cedar, our rafters are of cypress trees.” The Spouse, my brethren, is here singing her epithalamium; and in beautiful language she describes the marriage-bed and the bridal-chamber. She invites the Beloved to repose. For this is the better part, to rest and “to be with Christ.” However, the duty of co-operating in the salvation of souls requires her to be constantly employed in external activities. But now, availing of what she considers an opportune time, she announces that the bridal-chamber is ready and pointing to the couch, solicits the Bridegroom to rest Himself thereon, as I have just remarked. Like the two disciples journeying to Emmaus, unable to endure the burning fervour of her heart, she begs Him to accept the hospitality of her love, and constrains Him to pass the night with her, saying with St. Peter, “Lord, it is good for us to be here.”

Let us now endeavour to ascertain the spiritual sense of these words of the Spouse. I should say, then, that, as regards the Church, her cloisters and monasteries represent the bed, because it is in them alone we can live our life undisturbed by temporal cares or worldly distractions. And this bed is manifestly “flourishing” when the conduct of the brethren, faithfully adhering to the examples and institutions of the fathers, borrows therefrom a glory and a fragrance, like a couch bestrewn with sweet-smelling blossoms. Next, we are to understand by the “houses” the communities of simple Christians, who, as walls by girders, are strongly bound together by the justly imposed laws of those “in high station,” I mean, ecclesiastical and civil rulers. For by their authority the subjects are prevented from following their own will and desires, lest, like “leaning walls and tottering fences,” they should thus fall asunder and involve in their ruin the whole spiritual edifice, As for the “rafters” which are firmly fastened to the “beams” or girders and serve as beautiful ornaments to the “houses,” by these, I think, are designated the virtuous and orderly lives of a well-trained clergy, as also their fidelity in the due discharge of their functions. I have said the “rafters” must be attached to the “beams,” for how can there be any stability or regularity in the clerical orders or in their various offices unless they be supported by the beneficence and munificence of their rulers, as rafters on girders, and protected by their power?

But you will notice that the comparison is made with “beams of cedar “and “rafters of cypress trees.” The reason doubtless is because in the nature of such trees we find properties analogous to those which should characterise the two orders aforesaid, viz., the supreme governors in Church and State, and the subordinate clergy. The incorruptibility and fragrance of cedar wood, and the great height to which the tree attains sufficiently indicate the virtues which should adorn whose who are selected to fill the position of girders in the spiritual house of the Church. Therefore firm and resolute ought to be the character of such as are appointed to rule over others. They should be men of invincible hope, men who keep the eye of their soul steadfastly fixed on the things above. In short, the sweet fragrance of their faith and their virtue must be everywhere diffused, so that they can say with the Apostle, “For we are the good odour of Christ unto God in every place.” The cypress also has a pleasant odour and its wood likewise is incorruptible, thus symbolising the inviolable purity of faith and morals which should belong to each of the subordinate clergy, in order that they may serve as “rafters” for the decoration and ornamentation of the Bridegroom’s houses. For it is written, “Holiness becometh Thy house, O Lord, unto length of days.” Here we have clearly prescribed not only the ornament of sanctity, but also an uninterrupted perseverance in grace. It is therefore necessary that no one should be set up as an ornament or embellishment of the house who is not himself adorned with virtues; and although he, as a “rafter,” must be always inside, yet he ought to have good testimony even from those “who are without.” There are other respects also in which the cypress and the cedar tree may be taken as representative of the same two orders. But for the sake of brevity I pass them over.

It is a matter worthy of observation how beautifully this one short versicle embraces all the properties which characterise the different grades in the Church, the authority of prelates and princes, the sanctity of the clergy, the docility of the people, the peace and quiet of monks. Whenever holy mother Church sees that everything is as it ought to be with regard to each of these orders, she certainly rejoices at the view, and she also invites her Bridegroom’s attention to the pleasing spectacle, since she attributes nothing to herself, but refers all the glory to His bounty as to the source of all good. And if she speaks of our bed and our houses, this is evidence not of usurpation but of love. In the confidence begotten of exceeding charity, she esteems nothing not her own of all that belongs to Him. It has been her custom to seek not her own interests but His, and therefore she believes herself entitled to share with Him both His dwelling and His repose. Hence she associates herself with Him in speaking of the houses, etc., as if all things were common to the Bridegroom and His Bride. “Our bed is flourishing,” she says, “our houses are of cedars, our rafters of cypress.” Thus she boldly represents herself as united in ownership with One with whom she knows she is united in love. Very different the soul which has not yet fully renounced her self-will. She lives alone and takes her repose by herself. Or perhaps it would be more correct to say that she spends her time, not in solitude, but in the evil company of her carnal passions, with which she wastes “her substance, living riotously,” and, like the Prodigal, squanders the portion of the inheritance divided unto her at her own demand.