Sermons on the Song of Songs

“I am the Flower of the field and the Lily of the valleys.”

“I am the Flower of the field and the Lily of the valleys.” It appears to me, my brethren, that these words of the Bridegroom are intended as a reply to what the Spouse has just said in commendation of the bed adorned with flowers. Lest she should be tempted to attribute the possession of such flowers to her own industry, the Beloved now proclaims Himself to be “the Flower of the field.” He thus reminds her that it is not the bridal-chamber but the field that produces the flowers, and that they owe their beautiful colours and their sweet smell to His bounty and communication. Being an affectionate Mentor as well as a jealous Lover, He kindly and condescendingly explains to His beloved Spouse to Whom she should ascribe the adornment and fragrance of the couch whereof she is boasting, so that no man may be able to address her in the words of reproach, “What hast thou that thou hast not received? And if thou hast received, why dost thou glory as if thou hadst not received it?” Therefore He tells her, “I am the Flower of the field. That in which thou gloriest is My gift.” To us also, my brethren, this is a salutary reminder that “it is not expedient indeed” to glory in anything, but that “he that glorieth” should “glory in the Lord.” Thus far the literal sense. Let us now endeavour to ascertain the underlying spiritual meaning, with the help of Him to Whom the words belong.

First of all, I wish you to consider the three places where flowers are wont to be seen, viz., in the field, in the garden, and in the bed-chamber, as this will make it more easy to explain why the Bridegroom is pleased to call Himself the “Flower of the field.” Now, although there are flowers in the bed-chamber as well as in the garden and in the field, they are found growing in the two latter places only. Again, they serve to adorn and perfume the chamber no less than the garden or the field; yet not there as elsewhere do they do this standing erect on their roots, but rather lying prostrate, as not being indigenous but imported. Consequently, the flowers in this place have to be renewed repeatedly, because they lose both their beauty and their fragrance in a very short time. I have said in a preceding discourse that the bed bestrewn with flowers is a figure of the conscience laden with the memory of good works. If that be so, you will certainly allow, as the perfection of the analogy requires, that it is by no means sufficient to perform a good work once or twice, but that one must be constantly adding new merits to the old, for “he who soweth in blessings shall also reap blessings.” The flower of a good work soon droops and withers and loses all its beauty and life, if it be not frequently renewed, so to speak, by an unceasing succession of similar acts of piety. All this with reference to the flowers in the bed-chamber.

With the flowers of the garden and the field the case is entirely different. For to these, when once produced, the soil which gives them birth supplies the necessary support and nourishment, so that they can preserve for a considerable time the loveliness of their origin. But even as between the garden and the field there is a difference which concerns the manner of their florescence, in this respect, namely, that whereas the latter blooms of itself and naturally, without the need of any co-operation on the part of man, the former cannot flourish at all unless it be cultivated and tended by human hands. Does it not seem to you, my brethren, that you can now recognise that fertile field, which has never been furrowed by the ploughshare, nor digged with the spade, nor enriched by human culture, nor sown by human hands, and nevertheless is adorned with the magnificent Blossom upon which the Spirit of the Lord, as we know, has been pleased to rest? For it is written, “Behold the smell of my Son is as the smell of a plentiful field which the Lord hath blessed.” This Flower of the field had not yet put on Its beauty, although It was already giving forth Its fragrance, when the holy old Patriarch Isaac, in bodily decrepitude, dim-sighted but keen-scented, was given in the Spirit a foretaste of Its sweetness, and expressed his delight in the words I have quoted. It would not therefore have been right for Him Whose bloom is everlasting to proclaim Himself the flower of the bed-chamber; nor could He be called the flower of the garden, lest it should be supposed that He had a human father. But what He says of Himself, “I am the Flower of the field” is most beautiful and most appropriate. For not only has He sprung up from virgin soil without any human co-operation, but He is also from His origin eternally exempted from the power of blight or decadence, so that the word might be fulfilled, “Thou wilt not give Thy Holy One to see corruption.”

But listen, please, to another interpretation, which, I think, is well worthy of your attention. The reason why the Wise Man represents the Spirit of God as “manifold” is, so it seems to me, because this Divine Spirit is wont to conceal manifold significations of wisdom profound under the one same rind of the letter. Retaining, then, the above threefold distinction of flowers according to the places where they are found, we have the flower of virginity, the flower of martyrdom, and the flower of good works. Virginity blooms in the garden, martyrdom in the field, good works in the chamber. Rightly have I assigned to the garden the flower of virginity, whose characteristics are modesty, avoidance of publicity, love of retirement, and patience under discipline. For flowers are strewn in the chamber, exposed in the field, but enclosed in the garden. So we read, “My Spouse is a garden enclosed, a fountain sealed up.” By this enclosure is meant the virgin’s protecting modesty and her watchful care to live a life of unblemished sanctity. That is, if she is one who aims at being “holy both in body and in spirit.” Rightly also is the flower of martyrdom said to flourish in the field, because the holy martyrs are exposed to the insults of all the world, being made “a spectacle to angels and to men.” Is it not their tearful voice which we hear in the psalm, “We are become a reproach to our neighbours, a scorn and derision to them that are round about us”? Nor is it with less propriety that the flower of good works which tranquillises and lulls to rest the conscience, has been allotted to the bed-chamber. For the repose of contemplation is enjoyed with greater security after the performance of external good works. And the soul approaches the study and pursuit of divine things with the more confidence in proportion as she is the more conscious of not having neglected the duties of charity through love of her own ease.