THE UNSATISFIED LIFE AND ITS REMEDY
Cant. -i
There is no difficulty in recognizing
the bride as the speaker in verses 2-7. The words
are not those of one dead in trespasses and sins, to
whom the Lord is as a root out of a dry ground without
form and comeliness. The speaker has had her
eyes opened to behold His beauty, and longs for a
fuller enjoyment of His love.
Let
Him kiss me with the kisses of His mouth:
For Thy love is better than wine.
It is well that it should be so; it
marks a distinct stage in the development of the life
of grace in the soul. And this recorded experience
gives, as it were, a Divine warrant for the desire
for sensible manifestations of His presence sensible
communications of His love. It was not always
so with her. Once she was contented in His absence other
society and other occupations sufficed her; but now
it can never be so again. The world can never
be to her what it once was; the betrothed bride has
learnt to love her Lord, and no other society
than His can satisfy her. His visits may be occasional
and may be brief; but they are precious times of enjoyment.
Their memory is cherished in the intervals, and their
repetition longed for. There is no real satisfaction
in His absence, and yet, alas! He is not always
with her: He comes and goes. Now her joy
in Him is a heaven below; but again she is longing,
and longing in vain, for His presence. Like the
ever-changing tide, her experience is an ebbing and
flowing one; it may even be that unrest is the rule,
satisfaction the exception. Is there no help
for this? must it always continue so? Has He,
can He have created these unquenchable longings only
to tantalize them? Strange indeed it would be
if this were the case. Yet are there not many
of the lord’s people whose habitual experience
corresponds with hers? They know not the rest,
the joy of abiding in Christ; and they know not
how to attain to it, nor why it is not theirs.
Are there not many who look back to the delightful
times of their first espousals, who, so far from finding
richer inheritance in Christ than they then had, are even conscious that
they have lost their first love, and might express their experience in the sad
lament:
Where
is the blessedness I knew
When
first I saw the Lord?
Others, again, who may not have lost
their first love, may yet be feeling that the occasional
interruptions to communion are becoming more and more
unbearable, as the world becomes less and He becomes
more. His absence is an ever-increasing distress.
“’Oh that I knew where I might find Him!’
’Let Him kiss me with the kisses of His mouth:
for Thy love is better than wine.’ Would
that His love were strong and constant like mine,
and that He never withdrew the light of His countenance!”
Poor mistaken one! There is a
love far stronger than thine waiting, longing for
satisfaction. The Bridegroom is waiting for thee
all the time; the conditions that debar His approach
are all of thine own making. Take the right place
before Him, and He will be most ready, most glad,
to “Satisfy thy deepest longings, to meet, supply
thine every need.” What should we think
of a betrothed one whose conceit and self-will prevented
not only the consummation of her own joy, but of his
who had given her his heart? Though never at rest
in his absence, she cannot trust him fully; and she
does not care to give up her own name, her own rights
and possessions, her own will to him who has become
necessary for her happiness. She would fain claim
him fully, without giving up herself fully to him;
but it can never be: while she retains her own
name, she can never claim his. She may not promise
to love and honour if she will not also promise to
obey: and till her love reaches that point of
surrender she must remain an unsatisfied lover she
cannot, as a satisfied bride, find rest in the home
of her husband. While she retains her own will,
and the control of her own possessions, she must be
content to live on her own resources; she cannot claim
his.
Could there be a sadder proof of the
extent and reality of the Fall than the deep-seated
distrust of our loving Lord and Master which
makes us hesitate to give ourselves entirely up to
Him, which fears that He might require something beyond
our powers, or call for something that we should find
it hard to give or to do? The real secret of an
unsatisfied life lies too often in an unsurrendered
will. And yet how foolish, as well as how wrong,
this is! Do we fancy that we are wiser than He?
or that our love for ourselves is more tender and
strong than His? or that we know ourselves better
than He does? How our distrust must grieve and
wound afresh the tender heart of Him who was for us
the Man of Sorrows! What would be the feelings
of an earthly bridegroom if he discovered that his
bride-elect was dreading to marry him, lest, when he
had the power, he should render her life insupportable?
Yet how many of the lord’s redeemed ones
treat Him just so! No wonder they are neither
happy nor satisfied!
But true love cannot be stationary; it must either decline or
grow. Despite all the unworthy fears of our poor hearts, Divine love is
destined to conquer. The bride exclaims:
Thine
ointments have a goodly fragrance;
Thy
name is as ointment poured forth;
Therefore
do the virgins love Thee.
There was no such ointment as that
with which the High Priest was anointed: our
Bridegroom is a Priest as well as a King. The
trembling bride cannot wholly dismiss her fears; but
the unrest and the longing become unbearable, and
she determines to surrender all, and come what may
to follow fully. She will yield her very self
to Him, heart and hand, influence and possessions.
Nothing can be so insupportable as His absence!
If He lead to another Moriah, or even to a Calvary,
she will follow Him.
Draw
me: we will run after Thee!
But ah! what follows? A wondrously
glad surprise. No Moriah, no Calvary; on the
contrary, a king! When the heart submits,
then Jesus reigns. And when Jesus reigns,
there is rest.
And where does He lead His bride?
The
King hath brought me into His chambers.
Not first to the banqueting house that
will come in due season; but first to be alone with
Himself.
How perfect! Could we be satisfied
to meet a beloved one only in public? No; we
want to take such an one aside to have him
all to ourselves. So with our Master: He takes His now fully
consecrated bride aside, to taste and enjoy the sacred intimacies of His
wondrous love. The Bridegroom of His Church longs for communion with His
people more than they long for fellowship with Him, and often has to cry:
Let
Me see thy countenance, let Me hear thy voice;
For
sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance is comely.
Are we not all too apt to seek Him
rather because of our need than for His joy and pleasure?
This should not be. We do not admire selfish
children who only think of what they can get from their
parents, and are unmindful of the pleasure that they
may give or the service that they may render.
But are not we in danger of forgetting that pleasing
god means giving Him pleasure? Some of us
look back to the time when the words “To please
god” meant no more than not to sin against
Him, not to grieve Him; but would the love of earthly
parents be satisfied with the mere absence of disobedience?
Or a bridegroom, if his bride only sought him for
the supply of her own need?
A word about the morning watch may
not be out of place here. There is no time so
profitably spent as the early hour given to Jesus
only. Do we give sufficient attention to this
hour? If possible, it should be redeemed; nothing
can make up for it. We must take time to be holy!
One other thought. When we bring our questions
to god, do we not sometimes either go on to offer
some other petition, or leave the closet without waiting
for replies? Does not this seem to show little
expectation of an answer, and little desire for one?
Should we like to be treated so? Quiet waiting
before god would save from many a mistake and
from many a sorrow.
We have found the bride making a glad
discovery of a king her king and
not a cross, as she expected; this is the first-fruit
of her consecration.
We
will be glad and rejoice in Thee,
We
will make mention of Thy love more than of wine:
Rightly
do they love Thee.
Another discovery not less important
awaits her. She has seen the face of the king,
and as the rising sun reveals that which was hidden
in the darkness, so His light has revealed her blackness
to her. “Ah,” she cries, “I
am black"; “But comely,” interjects
the Bridegroom, with inimitable grace and tenderness.
“Nay, ‘black as the tents of Kedar,’”
she continues. “Yet to Me,” He responds,
“thou art ’comely as the curtains of Solomon!’”
Nothing humbles the soul like sacred and intimate
communion with the Lord; yet there is a sweet
joy in feeling that He knows all, and,
notwithstanding, loves us still. Things once called
“little négligences are seen with new eyes in the secret of
His presence. There we see the mistake, the sin, of not keeping our own
vineyard. This the bride confesses:
Look
not upon me, because I am swarthy,
Because
the sun hath scorched me.
My
mother’s sons were incensed against me,
They
made me keeper of the vineyards;
But
mine own vineyard have I not kept.
Our attention is here drawn to a danger
which is pre-eminently one of this day: the intense
activity of our times may lead to zeal in service,
to the neglect of personal communion; but such
neglect will not only lessen the value of the service,
but tend to incapacitate us for the highest service.
If we are watchful over the souls of others, and neglect
our own if we are seeking to remove motes
from our brother’s eye, unmindful of the beam
in our own, we shall often be disappointed with our
powerlessness to help our brethren, while our Master
will not be less disappointed in us. Let us never
forget that what we are is more important than what
we do; and that all fruit borne when not abiding in
Christ must be fruit of the flesh, and not of
the spirit. The sin of neglected communion
may be forgiven, and yet the effect remain permanently;
as wounds when healed often leave a scar behind.
We now come to a very sweet evidence
of the reality of the heart-union of the bride with
her Lord. She is one with the good shepherd:
her heart at once goes instinctively forth to the feeding of the flock; but she
would tread in the footsteps of Him whom her soul loveth, and would neither
labour alone, nor in other companionship than His own:
Tell me, O Thou whom my soul
loveth,
Where Thou feedest Thy flock, where Thou
makest it to
rest at noon:
For why should I be as one that is veiled
Beside the flocks of Thy companions?
She will not mistake the society of
His servants for that of their Master.
If thou know not, O thou
fairest among women,
Go thy way forth by the footsteps of the
flock,
And feed thy kids beside the shepherds’
tents.
These are the words of the daughters
of Jerusalem, and give a correct reply to her questionings.
Let her show her love to her Lord by feeding
His sheep, by caring for His lambs (see John xx-17),
and she need not fear to miss His presence. While
sharing with other under-shepherds in caring for His
flock she will find the chief shepherd at
her side, and enjoy the tokens of His approval.
It will be service with Jesus as well
as for Jesus.
But far sweeter than the reply of
the daughters of Jerusalem is the voice of the Bridegroom,
who now speaks Himself. It is the living fruit
of her heart-oneness with Him that makes His love break
forth in the joyful utterances of verses 9-11.
For it is not only true that our love for our Lord
will show itself in feeding His sheep, but that He
who when on earth said, “Inasmuch as ye have
done it unto one of the least of these My brethren,
ye have done it unto Me,” has His own heart-love
stirred, and not infrequently specially reveals Himself
to those who are ministering for Him.
The commendation of the bride in verse 9 is one of striking
appropriateness and beauty:
I
have compared thee, O My love,
To
a company of horses in Pharaoh’s chariots.
It will be remembered that horses
originally came out of Egypt, and that the pure breed
still found in Arabia was during Solomon’s reign
brought by his merchants for all the kings of the East.
Those selected for Pharaoh’s own chariot would
not only be of the purest blood and perfect in proportion
and symmetry, but also perfect in training, docile
and obedient; they would know no will but that of the
charioteer, and the only object of their existence
would be to carry the king whithersoever he would
go. So should it be with the Church of Christ;
one body with many members, indwelt and guided by one
spirit; holding the head, and knowing no
will but His; her rapid and harmonious movement should
cause His kingdom to progress throughout the world.
Many years ago a beloved friend, returning
from the East by the overland route, made the journey
from Suez to Cairo in the cumbrous diligence then
in use. The passengers on landing took their places,
about a dozen wild young horses were harnessed with
ropes to the vehicle, the driver took his seat and
cracked his whip, and the horses dashed off, some to
the right, some to the left, and others forward, causing
the coach to start with a bound, and as suddenly to
stop, with the effect of first throwing those sitting
in the front seat into the laps of those sitting behind,
and then of reversing the operation. With the
aid of sufficient Arabs running on each side to keep
these wild animals progressing in the right direction
the passengers were jerked and jolted, bruised and
shaken, until, on reaching their destination, they
were too wearied and sore to take the rest they so
much needed.
Is not the Church of god to-day
more like these untrained steeds than a company of
horses in Pharaoh’s chariot? And while self-will
and disunion are apparent in the Church, can we wonder
that the world still lieth in the wicked one, and
that the great heathen nations are barely touched?
Changing His simile, the Bridegroom continues:
Thy
cheeks are comely with plaits of hair,
Thy
neck with strings of jewels.
We
will make thee plaits of gold
With
studs of silver.
The bride is not only beautiful and
useful to her Lord, she is also adorned, and
it is His delight to add to her adornments. Nor
are His gifts perishable flowers, or trinkets destitute
of intrinsic value: the finest of the gold, the
purest of the silver, and the most precious and lasting
of the jewels are the gifts of the Royal Bridegroom
to His spouse; and these, plaited amongst her own
hair, increase His pleasure who has bestowed them.
In verses 12-14 the bride responds:
While
the King sat at His table
My
spikenard sent forth its fragrance.
It is in His presence and through
His grace that whatever of fragrance or beauty may
be found in us comes forth. Of Him as its source,
through Him as its instrument, and to Him as its end,
is all that is gracious and divine. But HE
HIMSELF is better far than all that His grace works
in us.
My
Beloved is unto me as a bundle of myrrh,
That
lieth betwixt my breasts.
My
Beloved is unto me as a cluster of henna-flowers
In
the vineyards of En-gedi.
Well is it when our eyes are filled with His beauty and our
hearts are occupied with Him. In the measure in which this is true of us
we shall recognize the correlative truth that His great heart is occupied with
us. Note the response of the Bridegroom:
Behold,
thou art fair, My love; behold, thou art fair;
Thine
eyes are as dove’s.
How can the Bridegroom truthfully
use such words of one who recognizes herself as
Black
as the tents of Kedar?
And still more strong are the Bridegrooms words in chap. iv.
7:
Thou
art all fair, My love;
And
there is no spot in thee.
We shall find the solution of this
difficulty in 2 Cor. iii. Moses in contemplation
of the Divine glory became so transformed that the
Israelites were not able to look on the glory of his
countenance. “We all, with unveiled face
[beholding and] reflecting as a mirror the glory of
the LORD, are transformed into the same image from
glory to glory [i.e. the brightness caught
from His glory transforms us to glory], even as from
the Lord the SPIRIT.” Every mirror
has two surfaces; the one is dull and unreflecting,
and is all spots; but when the reflecting surface
is turned fully towards us we see no spot, we see our
own image. So while the bride is delighting in
the beauty of the Bridegroom He beholds His own image
in her; there is no spot in that: it is all fair.
May we ever present this reflection to His gaze, and
to the world in which we live for the very purpose
of reflecting Him.
Note again His words:
Thine
eyes are as dove’s,
or
Thou
hast dove’s eyes.
The hawk is a beautiful bird, and
has beautiful eyes, quick and penetrating; but the
Bridegroom desires not hawk’s eyes in His bride.
The tender eyes of the innocent dove are those which
He admires. It was as a dove that the HOLY SPIRIT
came upon Him at His baptism, and the dove-like character
is that which He seeks for in each of His people.
The reason why David was not permitted
to build the Temple was a very significant one.
His life was far from perfect; and his mistakes and
sins have been faithfully recorded by the HOLY SPIRIT.
They brought upon him GOD’S chastenings, yet
it was not any of these that disqualified him from
building the Temple, but rather his warlike spirit;
and this though many of his battles, if not all, were
for the establishment of GOD’S Kingdom and the
fulfilment of His promises to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.
Solomon, the Prince of Peace, alone could build the
Temple. If we would be soul-winners and build
up the Church, which is His Temple, let us note this:
not by discussion nor by argument, but by lifting up
CHRIST shall we draw men unto Him.
We now come to the reply of the bride. He has called
her fair; wisely and well does she reply:
Behold
Thou art fair, my Beloved, yea, pleasant:
Also
our couch is green.
The
beams of our house are cedars,
And
our rafters are firs.
I
am (but) a rose of Sharon,
A
lily of the valleys.
The last words are often quoted as
though they were the utterance of the Bridegroom,
but we believe erroneously. The bride says in
effect, Thou callest me fair and pleasant, the fairness
and pleasantness are Thine; I am but a wild flower,
a lowly, scentless rose of Sharon (i.e. the
autumn crocus), or a lily of the valley.
To this the Bridegroom responds:
“Be it so; but if a wild flower, yet
As
a lily among thorns,
So
is My love among the daughters.
Again the bride replies:
As
the apple-tree (the citron) among the trees of the
wood,
So
is my Beloved among the sons.
I
sat down under His shadow with great delight,
And
His fruit was sweet to my taste.
The citron is a beautiful evergreen,
affording delightful shade as well as refreshing fruit.
A humble wild flower herself, she recognizes her Bridegroom
as a noble tree, alike ornamental and fruitful.
Shade from the burning sun, refreshment and rest she
finds in Him. What a contrast her present position
and feelings to those with which this section commenced!
He knew full well the cause of all her fears; her distrust
sprang from her ignorance of Himself, so He took her
aside, and in the sweet intimacies of mutual love
her fears and distrust have vanished, like the mists
of the morning before the rising sun.
But now that she has learned to know
Him, she has a further experience of His love.
He is not ashamed to acknowledge her publicly.
He
brought me to the banqueting house,
And
His banner over me was love.
The house of wine is now as appropriate as the Kings
chambers were. Fearlessly and without shame she can sit at His side, His
acknowledged spouse, the bride of His choice. Overwhelmed with His love
she exclaims:
Stay
ye me with raisins, comfort me with apples:
For
I am sick of love.
His
left hand is under my head,
And
His right hand doth embrace me.
Now she finds the blessedness of being
possessed. No longer her own, heart-rest is alike
her right and her enjoyment; and so the Bridegroom
would have it.
I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem,
By the roes, and by the hinds of the field,
That ye stir not up nor awake My love,
Until she please.
It is never by His will that our rest
in Him is disturbed.
You may always be abiding,
If you will, at JESUS’ side;
In the secret of His presence
You may every moment hide.
There is no change in His love; He
is the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever.
To us He promises, “I will never leave thee,
never fail thee, nor forsake thee”; and His
earnest exhortation and command is, “Abide in
Me, and I in you.”