Sermons on the Song of Songs

“Draw me after Thee; we will run to the odour of Thy ointments.” Therefore do I require to be drawn, because the fire of Thy love has grown cold within us, and “before the face of cold” like this we cannot run now, as we did yesterday and the day before. But we shall run again hereafter, when Thou shalt restore to us “the joy of Thy salvation”; when the happy season of grace shall return, when the Sun of Justice shall again grow warm and drive away the clouds of temptation which, for the time being, seem to overcast and to hide from us His Face; when at every gentlest stirring of the more balmy summer air the ointments shall begin to liquify, and the aromatic spices to flow and to give out their fragrant odour. Then shall we run, we shall run to that odour. We shall run, I say, to the perfume of the ointments, because our present torpor shall have vanished, giving place to devotion, so that we shall no longer require to be drawn; for under the attraction of the odour, we shall run forward of ourselves. But meantime “draw me after Thee; we will run to the odour of Thy ointments.” Do you not see, my brethren, that he who walks in the Spirit cannot possibly remain always in the same state, nor always advance with the same facility, and that the way of man is not in his own power, but according as the Spirit, Who remains Master of His graces, is pleased to dispense them with varying degrees of generosity, the soul, at one time more sluggishly, at another with greater alacrity, “forgetting the things that are behind stretcheth (herself) forth to those that are before”? I believe that what you now hear me speaking of exteriorly, you may learn interiorly from the testimony of your conscience.

Therefore, when you perceive yourselves to be affected with languor, sloth, or disgust, do not on that account lose confidence or desist from your application to spiritual things. Rather seek for the supporting hand of the Spirit (after the example of the Spouse) begging Him to draw you, until, aroused by grace from the state of torpor, and rendered more alert and active, you will commence to run again, and to say, “I have run in the way of Thy commandments, when Thou didst enlarge my heart.” Yet, when grace is present, enjoy it in such a way as not to fancy you possess it by hereditary right. I mean to say, do not be so secure of it as if it could never be taken from you. Otherwise, when God withdraws His hand and deprives you of His gift, you will suddenly lose heart and become unduly depressed and discouraged. Do not say in thy “abundance, I shall never be moved,” lest you be compelled with tears to say also what follows, “Thou didst turn away Thy Face and I became troubled.” Rather be careful, according to the advice of the Wise Man, “In the day of good things to be not unmindful of evils, and in the day of evils, to be not unmindful of good things.”

Be not, consequently, too secure in the day of thy strength, but, with the Prophet, cry out to God, “When my strength shall fail me, do not forsake me.” And similarly take comfort in the time of temptation, saying with the Spouse, “Draw me after Thee; we will run to the odour of Thy ointments.” Thus you shall not lose hope in the evil day, nor foresight in the good. Amidst the prosperities and adversities of this changeful existence, you will exhibit in yourselves an image, so to speak, of the changeless eternity, by this unalterable and imperturbable equanimity of a constant soul, “blessing the Lord at all times,” and despite the uncertain events and the certain failures of this mutable life, gradually bringing yourselves to a condition of what I may call fixed and stable immutability; whilst you are, at the same time, beginning to renew and restore in yourselves that primordial and glorious likeness to the Eternal God, “in Whom there is no change, nor shadow of vicissitude.” For as He is in His eternity so will you be even in this world, invincibly equable, neither cast down in adversity nor elated in prosperity. Herein, I say, the noble rational creature, made to the image and likeness of his Creator, shows that he is retrieving and recovering the dignity of his ancient honour, in that he judges it unworthy of him to be conformed to the fashions of this fleeting world, and rather strives, according to the injunction of St. Paul, to be reformed in the newness of his mind, unto that image, in which, as he knows, he was created. And thus, as is proper, he will force the world, which was made for his sake, by a marvellous reversal of relations, to accommodate itself to him. For having put off the form of corruption and reassumed that which is proper and natural to him, “all things shall now begin to co-operate unto good for him” in whom they shall recognise, as it were, their lord for whose service and enjoyment they were created.

Hence, I believe that what the Only-Begotten said of Himself, viz., that if He were “lifted up from the earth,” He would “draw all things” to Himself, can be applied equally well to all His brethren, to those, namely, whom the Father “foreknew and predestined to be made conformable to the image of His Son that He might be the First-Begotten amongst many brethren.” Therefore, even I shall make bold to say, that “I, if I be lifted from the earth, will draw all things to myself.” Do not suppose, my brethren, that I act rashly in appropriating to myself the words of One Whose likeness I have put on. And since this is so, let not the rich of this world imagine that the brethren of Christ possess only the goods of heaven, because they hear the Master saying, “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” Let it not be thought, I repeat, that heavenly treasures alone are held by these poor, because only such are mentioned in the promise. Earthly things, too, are possessed by them, who, “as having nothing, possess all things.” They do not beg for such, as the involuntarily poor, but they own them as lords, and the more truly lords of them the less they desire them. In fact, the whole world, is the treasure of the faithful soul. The whole world I say, because both its goods and its evils are equally her servants and co-operate for her unto good.

The avaricious man, like the beggar, hungers for the riches of earth; but the spiritual man, as their lord, despises them. The former has to beg for them whilst possessing them; the latter by despising them, preserves them. Ask one of those who, “with insatiable heart,” yearn after temporal lucre, what he thinks of such as sell what they have, and give to the poor, bartering earthly possessions for the kingdom of heaven. Ask him whether or not they do wisely. “Wisely, indeed,” he will doubtless answer. But ask why he does not himself do that which he approves: “I cannot,” will be his answer. Why? Because his mistress, avarice, will not suffer him. Because he is not free. Because those things which he appears to possess are not really his own. Because he is not even his own master. Then say to him: If it be thine own, put thy money out at interest, and transform earthly into heavenly treasures. If thou canst not do this, then acknowledge that thou art less the master than the slave of thy riches, less the owner than the custodian. Thou art even conformed to thy purse as a slave to his mistress; because, just as the slave must rejoice or grieve with his rejoicing or grieving mistress, so dost thou in thy soul swell with elation or shrink under depression, in harmony with the varying bulk of thy money-bags. For thou dost contract with grief according as these contract with expenditure; and art filled with joy or, at any rate, inflated with pride, in proportion as they are replenished with profits. Such is the life of him who makes himself a slave to avarice. But let us, for our part, endeavour rather to emulate the freedom and constancy of the Spouse, who, instructed in all things, “and learned in heart in wisdom,” knows how to abound and how to suffer want. When she asks to be drawn, she shows that what is wanting to her is not money but virtue. Again, in consoling herself with the hope of a return of grace, she proves that, though fainting, she has not lost confidence.