Sermons on the Song of Songs

Not without reason, as I think, is the historic sense compared to a garden, because in it we find men of virtue, like to fruit-trees in the garden of the Bridegroom, in the paradise of God, from whose virtuous actions and holy lives we may gather the fruits of good examples. Does any one doubt that the good man is a tree planted by the hand of God? If so, let him listen to David, “And he shall be like a tree which is planted near the running waters, which shall bring forth its fruit in due season, and his leaf shall not fall off.” Hear Jeremias singing in concert, in the same Spirit, and almost in the same words, “And he shall be as a tree that is planted by the waters, that spreadeth out its roots towards the moisture, and it shall not fear when the heat cometh.” Again the Psalmist, “The just shall flourish like the palm-tree; he shall grow up like the cedar of Libanus.” And again of himself, “But I (am) as a fruitful olive-tree in the house of God.” The Scripture history, then, is a garden, and contains three divisions. In it are comprised the Creation of heaven and earth, the Reconciliation, and the Restoration. Creation may be considered as the sowing, or the planting of the garden, and Reconciliation as the growth of what has been sown or planted. For in the fulness of time, when the heavens dropped down dew from above and the clouds rained down the Just, the earth opened and budded forth the Saviour, by Whom was effected the Reconciliation of heaven and earth. “For He is our peace, Who hath made both one,” “making peace through the Blood of His cross, both as to the things on earth, and the things that are in heaven.” The Restoration is reserved until the end of the world. For then there shall be a “new heaven and a new earth,” and the good shall be collected from out the midst of the wicked, as fruit from the garden, to be laid up in the divine storehouses. “In that day,” so Isaias, “the bud of the Lord shall be in magnificence and glory, and the fruit of the earth shall be high.” You have, consequently, three distinct departments in this garden of the historic sense.

In the moral signification, likewise, three things have to be noticed, as it were three cellars in the same storehouse. And perhaps this is the reason why we have “storerooms” in the plural, rather than “storeroom,” to indicate, namely, the number of cellars. Hence, later on, we shall hear the Spouse boasting of the fact that she has been brought into the wine-cellar. We are told in Proverbs, “Give occasion to a wise man, and wisdom shall be added to him.” Therefore, as the Holy Spirit has given the occasion in the name which it has pleased Him to impose on this cellar, let us not hesitate to give names to the other two also, calling one the cellar of spices and the other the cellar of unguents. The reason of such appellations I will explain afterwards. Observe, meantime, how everything about the Bridegroom is sweet and health-giving: wine, and ointments, and spices. “Wine,” as the Scriptures bear witness, “rejoiceth the heart of man.” We read also that he “maketh his face cheerful with oil,” which oil has been mixed, no doubt, with odoriferous elements, so as to make of it an ointment. The aromatic spices are not only prized for the sweetness of their fragrance, but also for their medicinal properties. Good reason, therefore, had the Spouse for boasting of her admission into those cellars which are filled with such abounding treasures of grace.

But I have other names besides for these three cellars, which, it seems to me, are even more evidently applicable than those I have just explained. To proceed in due order, I call the first cellar Discipline, the second Nature, and the third Grace. In the first we learn, according to the rules of sound morality, how to be subject to others; in the second, how to be equal, in the third, how to be superior. In plainer words, we learn how to live under others, how to live on terms of equality with others, and how to rule over others. Or again, we are taught in the first the duties of subjection; in the second, the duties of equality; and in the third, the duties of superiority. Therefore, Discipline teaches us how to be disciples, nature how to be equals, and Grace how to be superiors. By nature, indeed, all men were made equal. But their natural perfection having been corrupted by pride, they grew impatient of this original equality, endeavoured to rise each above the other, and desired to surpass each other, led on by the love of vainglory to mutual envy and jealousy. In the first place, therefore, and in the first cellar, the wantonness of our manners and characters must be kept in restraint by the yoke of discipline, until the will, its obstinacy having been worn away, as it were, by the friction of the hard and long-pressing precepts of our superiors, shall thus be humbled and healed, and recover that natural integrity which it lost through pride. Then, when we have learned to live peaceably and sociably, as far as it depends upon us, with all who share our common nature, namely, with all men, and that not through fear of correction, but solely from a sentiment of natural affection—then, I say, we shall pass from the cellar called Discipline into that of Nature. Here we shall experience the truth of what is written, “Behold how good and pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity, like precious ointment on the head!” For to disciplined morals, as to sweet spices pounded together, there is added now the oil of gladness, that is to say, the perfection of our nature is restored, and the result is an ointment exceedingly “good and pleasant.”

This unguent renders a man sweet and mild, makes him such that he never complains, never overreaches, never strikes or otherwise injures anybody, never boasts or prefers himself to anyone and, moreover, he enters gladly into the kindly intercourse of friendship which consists in the interchange of all good offices.

If you have well understood the properties of these two cellars, I think you must admit that not altogether fanciful are the names I have given them, calling the first the cellar of spices, and the second the cellar of unguents. For, just as the violent pounding of the pestle presses and squeezes out the essence and fragrance of the aromatic elements, so does the force of authority and the pressure of discipline in the cellar of spices beat out and extract, so to speak, the natural excellence of good morals. In the cellar of unguents flows that pleasing and spontaneously obliging sweetness of a free and, as it were, instinctive affection, like the ointment on the head, which, at the slightest touch of heat, trickles down and spreads itself over the whole body. Hence, the aromatic elements are contained in the cellar of Discipline, but as yet dry and uncompounded; and this is my reason for naming it the cellar of spices. In the second cellar, which I have called Nature, the confected ointments are stored up and preserved; to this fact it owes its name of the cellar of unguents. And I think the third has been called the wine-cellar, for no other reason than because it contains the wine of zeal, fervescent with charity. He who has not yet deserved to be introduced into this, ought not by any means to undertake the government of others. For every ruler should be aglow with this wine, as was the Doctor of Nations when he exclaimed, “Who is weak and I am not weak? Who is scandalised and I am not on fire?” Otherwise, you act very wickedly in seeking to govern those whom you feel no desire to benefit; and by insisting too ambitiously on the submission to your authority of men for whose salvation you have no concern. To this cellar I have given the second name of the cellar of Grace, not indeed as if even the other two can be attained without grace, but because of the plenitude of all graces, which is received in this alone. For “Charity is the fulfilling of the law.” And it is also written that “he that loveth his neighbour hath fulfilled the law.”