Sermons on the Song of Songs

She says, therefore, “Draw me after Thee; we will run to the odour of Thy ointments.” And what wonder that she requires to be drawn, whilst she runs after a Giant, whilst she is trying to overtake Him Who “leaps in the mountains, Who leaps over the hills”? “His Word,” says the Psalmist, “runneth swiftly.” She is not able to keep up with Him; she cannot keep pace with One Who “exulteth as a giant to run His course.” That is to say, she cannot do this of her own strength, and hence she request? to be drawn. “I am tired, she seems to say, “I am fainting from fatigue. Do not abandon me, but draw me after Thee, lest I begin to ‘wander after other lovers’ and ‘run as at an uncertainty.’ Draw me after Thee, since it is better for me that Thou shouldst draw me, even forcibly, either by terrifying me with threats or chastising me with scourges, than, by sparing me, permit me to enjoy a dangerous security in my sloth. Draw me, even against my will, that I may be made willing. Draw me, even in my sluggishness, that I may learn how to run of myself. The time will come when I shall no longer need to be drawn, for we shall run willingly and with all alacrity. I shall not run alone, although alone I ask Thee to draw me. With me shall run the young maidens. We shall run side by side. We shall run together; I to the odour of Thy ointments, they as being stimulated by my example and encouraged by my exhortation. And so we shall all run to the odour of Thy ointments.” The Spouse has imitators of herself, just as she is an imitator of Christ. Hence she does not say, “I shall run,” but “we shall run.”

But the question here arises, when she prays to be drawn, why does she not likewise include the “young maidens” in her petition, and say, “draw us,” instead of “draw me”? Or are we to suppose that, whereas the Spouse has need to be drawn, the “young maidens” labour under no such necessity? O Bride of Christ, beautiful, blessed, and blissful, explain to us the meaning of this distinction. “Draw me,” thou implorest. But why “me” rather than “us”? Is it that thou dost envy us, the “young maidens,” so great a grace? God forbid! For hadst thou desired to follow thy Beloved alone, thou wouldst not have immediately added that the “young maidens” would run with thee. Why, then, dost thou ask to be drawn in the singular, and straightway, speaking in the plural, say “we will run”? “Charity,” she answers, “so requires. Learn from me by these words that in your spiritual exercises you must hope for a twofold heavenly grace, viz., correction and consolation. The former is exteriorly administered, the latter visits you interiorly. The one restrains your boldness, the other props up your hope. Correction engenders humility, consolation supports pusillanimity. By the first you are made cautious, by the second devout. The one teaches you the fear of the Lord, the other tempers that fear by an infusion of spiritual delight, as it is written, ‘Let my heart rejoice that it may fear Thy name.’ Also ‘Serve ye the Lord with fear, and rejoice unto Him with trembling.’”

We are drawn, my brethren, when we are exercised by temptations and tribulations. We run, when visited by interior consolations and inspirations, thus inhaling, as it were, the delicious odour of the Bridegroom’s ointments. “Therefore,” says the Spouse, “whatever seems hard and austere, I keep for myself, as being strong, and whole, and perfect; and so I say in the singular, ‘draw me.’ But all that is pleasant and sweet, I share with you who are weak, and hence I add ‘we shall run.’ Well do I know how tender and delicate these ‘young maidens’ are, and how unfitted to endure the force of temptations. And therefore it is that I want them to run with me, but not to be drawn with me. I wish to have them as partakers of my consolation, but not of my labour. Wherefore? Because they are weak, and I fear lest they should faint, lest they should succumb. Let me, O my Beloved!” she exclaims, “let me be corrected, let me be tried, let me be tempted—‘draw me after Thee,’ ‘for I am ready for scourges,’ and able to bear them. But we shall run together. Let only me be drawn, but we shall run together. We shall run, yes, we shall run, but ‘to the odour of Thy ointments,’ not through confidence in our own merits. It is not in the magnitude of our strength that we hope to run, but in the ‘multitude of Thy tender mercies.’ For whenever, even in the past, we have run or possessed a good will, it was ‘not of him that willeth, nor of him that runneth, but of God That sheweth mercy.’ Only let the same mercy again visit us and we shall run again. Thou as a Giant, and as a Mighty One, runnest in Thy strength. But we shall not run at all unless drawn by the perfume of Thy ointments. Thou dost run in the virtue of that ‘oil of gladness’ with which the Father ‘hath anointed Thee above Thy fellows.’ We can only run to the odour of that ointment, for Thou hast the fulness and we but the odour.” Now would be the time, my brethren, to discharge the obligation which I remember to have undertaken long since with regard to the ointments of the Bridegroom, but to-day’s sermon has already transgressed its limits. Therefore I will postpone to another time the promised exposition, for it would be doing an injury to the dignity and importance of the subject to attempt to compress it within a space of inadequate extent. Pray ye, therefore, the Lord of the ointments that He would deign “to make pleasing the voluntary offerings of my mouth,” in order that I may be able to engrave deeply upon your minds the memory of that abounding sweetness of His, which is treasured up in the Bridegroom of the Church, Christ Jesus Our Lord. Amen.