Sermons on the Song of Songs

Hear what God promises, through His Prophet, to persons “black” with this kind of blackness, who appear to be discoloured by the humility of penance, or by the fervour of charity, as if by the scorching heat of the sun. “If your sins be as scarlet they shall be made as white as snow; if they be as red as crimson, they shall be white as wool.” Surely, then, we ought not to despise in the saints this outward blackness which becomes the source of interior brightness, and so prepares in the soul the seat of wisdom. For, according to the Wise Man, wisdom “is the brightness of eternal life.” Hence, truly bright must that soul be which she chooses for her seat. But since we know that “the soul of the just man is the seat of wisdom,” I am safe in concluding that the soul of the just man must be also bright and luminous. Indeed, it is likely enough that justice and spiritual brightness mean the same thing. Now, St. Paul was just, since for him was “laid up a crown of justice.” Therefore there can be no doubt that his soul was bright, and therein was seated wisdom, so that he could “speak wisdom amongst the perfect,” “wisdom hidden in a mystery, which none of the princes of this world knew.” Moreover, this brightness of wisdom and justice in him, was either produced or merited by the external blackness of his “bodily presence,” and his “much watchings” and his “fastings often.” Consequently, even the very blackness of St. Paul is far more precious and attractive than any degree of external beauty, than all the pomp and glory of earthly kings. Not to be compared with it is any comeliness of mortal flesh, any fairness of a skin destined as fuel for the flames, any loveliness of a delicately-tinted complexion, soon to be the spoil of death and putrefaction, any magnificence of dress liable to the corrupting influence of age, any splendour of gold and precious stones, or of anything else that passes away with time.

Good reason have the saints, therefore, for devoting and giving themselves up with all diligence to the business of caring for and embellishing the inward man, who is made to the image of God and “renewed day by day”; whilst they contemptuously refuse any adornment or superfluous attention to their outward man “who is corrupted.” For they feel convinced that nothing can be so acceptable to God as His own image, provided it has been restored to its original beauty. Therefore, “all” their “glory is within,” not outside, that is to say, not in the flower of the field, or in the mouths of the multitude, but in the Lord. Hence do they say, “This is our glory, the testimony of our conscience,” because the only witness of their conscience is God, Whom alone they desire to please, and in pleasing Whom the only true and sovereign glory consists. Certainly, no small glory is that which is within, in which even the Lord of glory disdains not to glory, as David tells us when he says, “All the glory of the King’s daughter is within.” Besides, each one’s glory is all the more secure, the more he possesses it within himself, and not in another. However, it is not alone in the interior brightness, but also in the exterior blackness that there is found occasion for glorying, lest anything in the saints should go for loss, but that all things might “co-operate unto good” for them. Hence we see them glorying in tribulations as as well as in hope. “Gladly,” says the Apostle, “will I glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may dwell in me.” O infirmity worthy to be desired with all ardour, which is compensated for by the power of Christ! Who will grant me not only to be infirm, but to be utterly forsaken and abandoned by my own strength and my own power, in order that I may be propped up by the power and strength of the “Lord of virtues”! For “power is made perfect in infirmity,” as Christ bears witness. Hence St. Paul could affirm, “When I am weak, then am I powerful.”

This being so, the Spouse most skilfully turns to her own glory what her censurers taunted her with as a reproach, boasting not only of her beauty, but also of her blackness. For she is not ashamed of this blackness, knowing that the same kind of blackness appeared even in her Bridegroom. And what matter for glorying it is to be assimilated to Him! Therefore, in her eyes there can be nothing so glorious as to “bear the reproach of Christ.” Hence that “voice of exultation and of salvation,” “God forbid that I should glory save in the cross of my Lord, Jesus Christ.” The ignominy of the cross is gratifying to him who is not ungrateful to the Crucified. It is blackness indeed, but it is also the image and likeness of the Lord. Go to the Prophet Isaias, and he will describe for you how he beheld Him in spirit. For whom but Christ does he call the “Man of sorrows and acquainted with infirmity,” adding that “there is no beauty in Him nor comeliness”? And he goes on, “And we have reputed Him, as it were, a leper, and as one struck by God and afflicted. But He was wounded for our iniquities, He was bruised for our sins, and by His bruises we are healed.” Behold what makes Him black! Add to this the testimony of holy David, “Beautiful in form above the sons of men,” and you will have verified in the Bridegroom all that the Spouse witnesses of herself when she says, “I am black but beautiful.”

Does it not, then, seem to you, my brethren, that according to what has been said, He also could have replied to the Jews who reproached Him, “I am black but beautiful, O ye” sons “of Jerusalem.” Black assuredly was He in Whom there was “no beauty nor comeliness.” Black also as being “a worm and no man, the reproach of men and the outcast of the people.” Again, why should I be afraid to call Him black Who even made Himself “sin,” as the Apostle declares? Lastly, contemplate Him, clad in a ragged and dirty mantle, livid with wounds, defiled with spittle, pale with the pallor of death, and surely now at least you will acknowledge Him to be black. Then question the apostles as to the appearance He presented on the mountain; or ask the angels what is it that makes them desire to gaze upon Him, and you will doubtless marvel at what they shall tell you of His beauty. Therefore, He is beautiful in Himself, but black for our sakes. Yet even in Thy Human Form, according to which Thou art my Brother, how beautiful Thou art to me, O Lord Jesus! Not because of the mighty miracles of Thy divine power, which render Thee so illustrious, but “on account of Thy truth, and Thy meekness, and Thy justice.” Blessed is the man who diligently studies Thee conversing as a Man amongst men, and endeavours to imitate Thee in the practice of these virtues, to the utmost of his power! Already has Thy “beautiful one” obtained this part of her beatitude, the first fruits, as it were, of her dowry, being neither slow to copy what is beautiful in Thee, nor ashamed to participate in the sufferings which make Thee black. For this reason also she said, “I am black but beautiful, O ye daughters of Jerusalem.” And she added the comparisons, “as the tents of Cedar, as the curtains of Solomon.” But these latter expressions are obscure, and we are too weary now to enter upon their exposition. You shall therefore have an opportunity for “knocking” by prayer at the door of Wisdom. If you knock sincerely, there is One Who will come to open for you these mysteries. Nor will He delay to open, since it is He Himself Who invites you to knock. For He it is that “openeth and no man shutteth,” the Bridegroom of the Church, Jesus Christ, Our Lord, Who is blessed for evermore. Amen.