Sermons on the Song of Songs

“Therefore young maidens have loved Thee exceedingly.”

I will begin, my brethren, with the words of our master, St. Paul: “If any man love not our Lord Jesus Christ, let him be anathema.” Surely, He is most deserving of my love, from Whom I have existence, life, and understanding. If I be ungrateful for these benefits, I thereby prove myself unworthy of them. Evidently, he is unworthy to live at all, whoever, O Lord Jesus, refuses to live for Thee. Yea, he is already dead! And whoso has no understanding of Thee, is only a fool. And he that desires to exist save only for Thee, is to be esteemed as nothing, for nothing he is indeed. But “what is man” apart from the fact “that Thou art made known to him”? Thou, O God, hast made all things for Thyself. Hence he must be nothing, as outside this universality of being, who wants to exist for himself and not for Thee. “Fear God and keep His commandments,” says Solomon, “for this is all man.” But if this is all man, it clearly follows that, without it, all man is nothing. Bend to Thyself, O my God, the insignificant little thing which Thou hast condescended to will I should be. Accept, I beseech Thee, the years that remain of my miserable life; and for those which I have squandered away by evil living, “a contrite and humble heart, O God, Thou wilt not despise.” “My days have declined like a shadow,” and have passed without fruit. But as it is impossible now to recall them, let it content Thee, in Thy gracious mercy, that I recount them to Thee “in the bitterness of my soul.” Then, as regards understanding, “before Thee is all my desire,” and the intention of my heart. Thou seest that if I possessed any wisdom I would consecrate it to Thee. But, O God, “Thou knowest my foolishness.” Still, perhaps it is some wisdom even to acknowledge my foolishness, as I do in truth by Thy grace. Multiply, O Lord, that grace in me, since I am not ungrateful for the little I already possess, but only anxious for that which is still wanting to me. Therefore, in return for the benefits of existence, life, and understanding, I offer Thee all the love I am capable of.

But there is another incentive to love which has still greater power to move, and to arouse, and to inflame me. What makes Thee, O good Jesus, amiable to me above all things is the chalice Thou didst drain for us, the work of our Redemption. This easily attracts to Thee all the love of our hearts. This it is, I say, which most sweetly allures our affectionate devotion, most justly exacts it, most forcibly constrains it, and most powerfully binds it to Thine own Divine Self. For therein the Saviour had to undergo immense labour. As Creator, the making of the whole universe did not cost Him the slightest effort. Of that mighty work we read “He spoke and they were made; He commanded and they were created.” But in order to redeem us, it was necessary for Him to endure contradiction to His words, criticism of His actions, mockery in His sufferings, reproaches at His death. Behold, my brethren, how He loved us! Remember, too, that in this He was not making any return, but only a further advance of love. For “who hath first given to Him, and recompense shall be made to him?” Rather as St. John Evangelist says, “Not as though we had loved God, but because He hath first loved us.” Finally, He loved us even before we existed, and, what is more, loved us when we resisted His love. Such is the testimony of St. Paul, where he says, “when we were as yet enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of His Son.” For otherwise, unless He loved us when we were His enemies, He never could have loved us as His friends; just as we should not have existed at all to be the objects of His love had His love not embraced us when as yet we were non-existent.

His love for us is sweetly tender, and wise, and strong. It showed itself tender, I say, in that it induced Him to assume our flesh. Its wisdom appeared in His refusing to resemble us in sin. It manifested its strength by leading Him to die for us. Although visiting us in the flesh, He did not love us according to the flesh, but in the prudence of the Spirit. For “Christ the Lord is a Spirit before our face,” jealous of us “with the jealousy of God,” not, mind you, with the jealousy of man, but “with the jealousy of God,” a jealousy, therefore, wiser than that which the first Adam entertained with regard to the first Eve. Consequently, those whom He sought in the flesh, He loved in the Spirit, and redeemed in His power. It is assuredly a privilege full of divine sweetness, of inexpressible delight, that man should be permitted to see his Maker in the flesh. But whilst, with divine prudence, He chose for Himself a nature immune from guilt; He also with power equally divine, expelled death from that nature. In assuming flesh He condescended to my infirmity; in avoiding sin He looked to the interests of His own glory; in submitting to death, He made satisfaction to His Father’s justice, thus exhibiting Himself as a sweet Friend, a prudent Counsellor, a powerful Helper. Securely may I entrust myself to Him, Who has the good will to save me, and the knowledge of the means to be employed, and the power to put them into execution. After seeking me out, after calling me to Him, think you He will cast me forth now when I am answering His summons? Neither do I fear that any force or fraud whatever shall be able to snatch me out of His hand, for He is the Conqueror of death which had conquered all beside, and, by a holier craft than Satan used, the Circumventor of that old serpent who circumvented the whole world, surpassing the former in power and the latter in wisdom. He took on Him indeed the reality of our flesh, but only the similitude of our sin, thus, at the same time, sweetly bringing consolation to the weak, and prudently laying the snare of deception for the demon.

Moreover, in order to reconcile us to the Father, He underwent and vanquished death by the might of His fortitude, shedding His Blood as the price of our Redemption. Hence, to sum up, had He not loved me with tender affection, that Divine Majesty would never have sought me in my prison. But to tenderness of love He united wisdom, whereby He deceived the serpent, and to both He added patience, by which He appeased the anger of His offended Father. Such, my brethren, are the characteristics of divine love, which I am under promise to explain, viz., to love with tenderness, with prudence, and with strength. And the better to commend them to your observance, I have begun by drawing your attention to them as they are exhibited in the charity of Christ.