Sermons on the Song of Songs

“O Thou, Whom my soul loveth, show me where Thou feedest, where Thou liest in the mid-day.”

“Show me, O Thou, Whom my soul loveth, where Thou feedest, where Thou liest in the mid-day.” The Divine Word, the Bridegroom of our souls, often reveals Himself, my brethren, to fervent spirits, but not always under the same form. Why so? No doubt because they do not yet see Him “as He is.” For this vision is fixed and immutable, as fixed and immutable as the Form of the Divinity Which is its Object. It simply is, suffering no change from the future to the present, nor from the present to the past. Take away “was” and “shall be” and where now is there any room for “change or shadow of alteration”? But whatever exists in such a way that it ceases not to pass from that which it has been, and to tend to that which it shall be, by an uninterrupted process of mutation, has indeed a passage through an indivisible nunc of actual being, but certainly never is. For how can we say that that is which “never continueth in the same state”? Therefore that alone truly is which can neither be separated from itself as it has been by alteration, nor effaced by itself as in the future it shall be, but alone invincibly, unchangeably is, and remains ever that which it is. Its present has co-existed with the whole of the unbeginning past, and shall co-exist with the whole of the unending future. In this way does it vindicate for itself true being, that is to say, uncreated, interminable, immutable being. When, therefore, He Who is such, rather I should say, Who being infinite, cannot be described as such or such at all—when He is seen as He is, the vision must of necessity be abiding, as subject to no vicissitude. And thus to all who enjoy that sight, the one penny of the Gospel shall have been paid in the one same vision, which is offered to all. For as the Object seen is immutable in Itself, It must appear without variation to all those who behold It. And they who contemplate It can wish to behold nothing more desirable or beautiful, nothing more capable of ravishing their hearts. When, therefore, shall that eager appetite give place to satiety, or that sweetness lose its savour, or that truth be found deceptive, or that eternity fall short and fail? But if both the vision itself and the soul’s delight in it shall endure for evermore, surely that is the very consummation of beatitude. For since, on the one hand, the contemplation of the Divine Beauty is all-sufficing and eternal, nothing can ever be wanting to those who enjoy it; and on the other, as their love also is everlasting they can never grow weary of what they behold.

But, my brethren, this vision is not for the present life. It is reserved for the next, and for them only who can say, “We know that when He shall appear we shall be like Him, because we shall see Him as He is.” Now, indeed, He appears to whom He pleases and as He pleases, but not as He is. No sage, no saint, no prophet can see Him as He is, or, at least, could see Him so, whilst clothed in this mortal flesh. But they who are accounted worthy shall enjoy that vision of Him in the immortal body of the future. In the meantime, therefore, He is seen, not as He is, but in the way He wills. So it is, indeed, even with that great luminary, I mean the material sun, which daily rises upon us. For it is never seen as it is in itself, but only by the light which it communicates to the air, for instance, or to the mountain, or to the wall. And we could not see it at all, if the light of our bodies, viz., the eye, did not bear a certain resemblance in its natural purity and clearness to the solar radiance. For no other bodily member is sensitive to light, which is doubtless due to their lack of any such affinity. But even the eye itself, when “troubled,” is unable to perceive the light, because, namely, it has lost the similitude necessary thereto. Therefore, the same faculty which when “troubled,” or clouded, cannot see the bright sun as having no likeness to it, may yet behold it, when rendered bright itself, on account of this resemblance. And it is evident that, were the eye possessed of a purity equal to the purity of the sun, it would be able, by reason of such perfect resemblance, to contemplate with undazzled gaze that luminous body as it is in its meridian splendour. In the same way, the Divine Sun of Justice, “Who enlighteneth every man that cometh into this world,” can be seen by the soul that is enlightened, according to the degree in which He enlightens her, because of the partial resemblance between them. Nevertheless, He cannot yet be seen as He is in Himself, for the reason that the similarity is not yet perfect. Hence, the Psalmist exhorts us, saying, “Come ye to Him and be enlightened and your faces shall not be confounded.” Thus shall it be, no doubt, if only we are enlightened as much as is needful, so that “beholding the glory of the Lord with open face, we are transformed into the same image, from glory to glory as by the Spirit of the Lord.”

Consequently, we must “come to Him,” not, mark you, intrude ourselves boldly upon Him, lest the irreverent “searcher of majesty” should be “overwhelmed by glory.” Not from place to place must we advance towards Him, but by a progress “from glory to glory,” and this not the glory of the flesh, but of the Spirit: “as by the Spirit of the Lord.” Manifestly, I say, it is not by our own spirit that this advance is to be made, but by the Spirit of the Lord. Although it must indeed be accomplished in our own spirit. Therefore, each of us draws nearer to God in proportion as he increases in this spiritual glory or purity. But he who has attained to perfect purity has arrived at the very presence of God. Furthermore, for those who have already reached that divine presence, to see Him as He is is the same thing as to be as He is, and no longer to be confounded because of any dissimilitude. But such happiness belongs, as I have said, to the life to come. In the meantime, this marvellous variety of forms, this infinitude of beautiful kinds in creation, what are they but so many rays, so to speak, from the Sun of the Divinity, showing indeed that He Who is their source, truly is, but not fully declaring what He is? Hence we only see what proceeds from Him, not His own Divine Self. But beholding all the works of His hands, although Himself we cannot see, we still feel assured that He truly exists, and that we have a duty to seek Him out. And grace shall not be wanting to the honest inquirer, nor shall ignorance excuse the slothful and negligent. This mode of vision is common to all. It is within the competence of every one who has attained the use of reason, as St. Paul testifies, “to see clearly the invisible things of God, being understood by the things that are made.”