THE Song of Solomon is a song of loves, especially of that love which is the right of relationship.
We have had before us some few. characters, illustrative of such love―a love leading the heart to forsake all for its object. Thus, Abigail could leave all for David; also Rebekah, who, as we have seen, could forget all else, even her father’s house, for the love of her heart to Isaac. The same with Rachel. And Ruth also, the poor Moabitish one, who, having found that Boaz could not rest until he had finished that redemption which would put her down co-inheritor of his greatness, yielded herself as the loved object of his affection. The favored one of Psa. 45 enjoys a relationship precious in nature. “Hearken, O daughter,” is the language of Him who is King―the King who in His beauty will own her as such. It is as daughter whose covering is of wrought gold, and who, in her mind, her heart, her affections, is all glorious within, that she is addressed, whose beauty the King greatly desired.
Though the bride in this Song is doubtless a type of her who will share with the true Solomon the glories of the throne of David, yet the experiences recorded, and the vicissitudes felt, find a present, and oftentimes painful, fulfillment in our own lives.
The bride in the Song tells of deep inward feelings which are not expressed by any of those whose histories we have recorded. Over and over again she is in deep sorrow of heart till she can enjoy her Beloved. It is not that established love which is natural to the Church. And such exercises, often painful, can never have place in the heart of the Lamb’s bride in the day of her espousals to the true Solomon. Mirror is it all now of the cravings of many, alas! who are too content to let slip that sense of the love of Christ which they once enjoyed.
The bride is distressed unless in communion with her Beloved. But it is blessed that, however altered she may be, whether in or out of her enjoyment of Him, He is always the same, unchangeable. When low in soul, it is in the thought of His love that we find so sweet a restorative power. “I change; He changes not,” is one of the sweetest notes in our own song of love. He is always the same, as well when we are cold in love, or “strong in the Lord, and in the power of His might” (Eph. 6:1010Finally, my brethren, be strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might. (Ephesians 6:10)).
Why then, are we not always happy? especially with such a Beloved, and with such provision as God has for us in Him; the very same, in fact, as that which He has for Himself. Hence true communion is that which is common to God and to us; it signifies joint proprietorship which we have along with God in Christ, also along with Christ in God. It is expressed in the words, “My Father and your Father, My God and your God.” We accordingly, strictly speaking, can never lose the communion itself; we may, and, alas! do, lose our enjoyment of it. Oh, how happy when the soul enjoys all in God and in the Beloved! for He is the manifestation of God and of the Father. “He that hath seen Me hath seen the Father.”
I am now on the question of our affections. Some are full of truth, who never seem to have the affections engaged. It is not so much truth that many of us need as to have the heart benefited―made alive to what we have in Christ. “Knowledge puffeth up, but charity [love] edifieth.”
The love of Christ dwelling in our hearts would be productive of all manner of holy blessedness in our lives. Apart from that love, all our controversies about the truth are cold and barren. A real love of heart towards Christ knows no bounds. It lays aside all weights, and longs after the true perfection, viz., to be with Christ, to be like Him, to see Him as He is. It is thus now that the righteousness of the law which required, but never could produce, holiness is fulfilled in us who, filled with Christ, walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit. Those who have no love to Christ have no true obedience, no righteousness of life, and have never yet taken the first practical step towards cleansing themselves from all filthiness of the flesh and spirit, perfecting holiness in the fear of God. He who loves fulfills the law.
But there are diversities of love. For example, this love of relationship. Singular the words—not surely normal to the Christian—not the words of those who are as He is, in closest relationship, being “members of His body.” Such have not to say, “Oh that thou wert as my brother!” It is, in fact, a longing for relationship; it is a longing of love which wants the right which pertains to relationship, as much as to say, “If he were my brother, I should have a right to closest intimacies; I should have a right to dearest love; I should love him as I list.” It is the natural expression of―
“A bowing, burdened head,
That only asks to rest
Unquestioning, upon a loving breast.”
Are we longing for this right? In a sense, “Oh that thou wert as my brother!” is a happy longing we should like to see in many a child of God; and “Let Him kiss me with the kisses of His mouth” (Sol. 1:22Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth: for thy love is better than wine. (Song of Solomon 1:2)). But Ephesian truth goes higher. There Christ is more than brother; and His love is always the same. There it is not “draw me;” for we are one with Him, and can never be nearer. Nor is it “look not upon me.” How can He fail to see Himself? We are as He is. Nor is it “tell me where thou feedest.” For we know where He is! He went as far as Bethany, and thence into heaven. We can still, as it were, see the cloud which received Him, and the blue sky into which He entered. We know He is in heaven; and where He is, is our rest. No; being made nigh where God is, and one with Christ, we are in the very highest of all relationships, and are entitled to the enjoyment of the deepest love. But the Shulamite was craving for such portion as in nature belongs only to brother with sister, or sister with brother, or friend with friend. Hence, elsewhere knowing now her relationship, she longs for some expression of it. “Let Him kiss me,” she says, “with the kisses of His mouth.” Mark the pronoun. There is no need to name her Beloved; it is simply “Him.” Like Mary at the sepulcher: “Tell me where thou hast laid Him.” She was so occupied with her Beloved that to distinguish Him seemed unneeded.
Why does she long for this expression of His love? Let me ask another question: Why did the Lord ask Peter, “Lovest thou Me?” (John 21:1717He saith unto him the third time, Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me? Peter was grieved because he said unto him the third time, Lovest thou me? And he said unto him, Lord, thou knowest all things; thou knowest that I love thee. Jesus saith unto him, Feed my sheep. (John 21:17)). Plainly He knew the fact of his love; but He liked to be told it. “Swear to me again,” said Jonathan to David; for he loved him as he loved his own soul, and liked to hear its declaration again and again. Remember also Simon. Did not the Lord say “Thou gavest Me no water for My feet, thou gavest Me no kiss: but this woman?” (Luke 7:4545Thou gavest me no kiss: but this woman since the time I came in hath not ceased to kiss my feet. (Luke 7:45)). He well knew her love, and He delighted in these the expressions of it. Thus with the Shulamite. She knew the love of her Beloved, but she desired an expression of it; and she had dearest warrant to expect it being His spouse.
Yet how evident it is that relationship itself is not enough. It does not of necessity ensure its corresponding experience. The heart, notwithstanding its right, may wander from its enjoyment. Hapless Shulamite Though in relationship, see her wandering at dead of night in quest of her Beloved. How could He be absent, and she happy? Apart from Christ, nothing can make us happy; not any present or future blessing here. We shall never be fully satisfied until we awake with His likeness. “Satisfied” is a word of rest; words fail to express it. It is infinite, never to be less; eternal, never to end.
Observe the manner of her communion. “His left hand is under my head, and His right hand loth embrace me.” The head is the seat of the mind; and her mind could rest there upon the once pierced One, upon His pierced hand; nothing to interrupt communion between her and that left hand which was under her head. How deep the fellowship! How precious His love, the knowledge of His thoughts! “His right hand,” which is the symbol, of power, she says, “doth embrace me;” securely sheltered by the power of that which had been made bare for salvation.
What a hand is that pierced hand! The print of the nail never to be erased through the ages of ages. The glory will leave it just the same forever. He will be seen a Lamb as it had been slain. Firstborn among many brethren, He will be distinguished by the glory radiant on His riven side, or streaming through His hands and feet, each telling of His once suffering love. This is no mere fancy of the mind, but a reality. Christ both suffered and died for us. The Son of God, in love, died accursed for us, on a tree. Are we living in communion with such love? His hand under our head; that hand ready, while we are yet in the wilderness, to minister to us; if hungry to feed; if weary to refresh; if weak to support; if burdened to rest; if bereaved to console; even now, in a sense, “He wipes the tear from every eye.” Do we know this? Alas! many have the doctrine; but the heart is not benefited. His right hand embracing us, who can pluck us thence? Safely resting there, possessed of His thoughts of love from the eternal ages of the past to the ages of ages to come, and the Father’s thoughts concerning Him, can we say, “O Lord, Thy hand which is under me was pierced for me, fruit of Thy love? Thou hast died that Thou mightest rejoice over me, as a bridegroom rejoices over his bride. Having invested me with Thine own holiness and perfectness, Thou mayest indeed say to me, ‘Thou art My beloved; thou art fair, My love’” ―My companion as the word is. For fair she is. In her perfectness in Him she is as a lily among thorns, perfect and spotless in His sight, though here below in the midst of the unfruitful and pain-inflicting thorns of the world.
Where did He find her? Under the apple tree. That apple tree is Christ. “As the apple-tree among the trees of the wood, so is my Beloved.” The apple tree is distinguished for its floral beauty in the springtide of the year, and for its fruit in its season easily distinguished from all the trees of the wood. So Christ is chief among ten thousand, and altogether lovely. Scars in His hands? yes; and in His feet and side? yes; still “ALTOGETHER lovely.” The apple tree is full of refreshing to the eye, and, moreover, refreshing as a shade. The image is full of Christ. It is in Him we possess our fruit; pardon, righteousness, peace, light, life, holiness are all in Him. Oh, to dwell ever beneath the boughs, enjoying the rich clusters of His fruit, who of God is made unto us wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, and redemption! But the bride is found under the apple tree. This is not the highest place. We, as Eve, were found in Christ; as in Ephesians, chosen in Him, accepted in Him. “According as He hath chosen us in Him before the foundation of the world [before the eternal times]” (Eph. 1:44According as he hath chosen us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and without blame before him in love: (Ephesians 1:4)). “In whom we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins, according to the riches of His grace;... having made known unto us the mystery of His will, according to His good pleasure which He hath purposed in Himself... whom also we have obtained an inheritance, being predestinated according to the purpose of Him who worketh all things after the counsel of His own will:... the eyes of your understanding being enlightened; that ye may know what is the hope of His calling, and what the riches of the glory of His inheritance in the saints, and what is the exceeding greatness of His power to us-ward who believe, according to the working of His mighty power, which He wrought in Christ, when He raised Him from the dead, and set Him at His own right hand in the heavenly places, far above all principality:... and hath quickened us together with Christ,... and made us sit together in heavenly places in Christ Jesus” (Eph. 2:66And hath raised us up together, and made us sit together in heavenly places in Christ Jesus: (Ephesians 2:6)). This is the Church’s place―in Christ. It is all “in Him,” and all according to the working of His power, who raised up Christ, and so us also, from the dead.
Here mark another thing. Who that knows Christ thus never ought to have communion with Him disturbed. Nothing is so sensitive as the ear, specially the ear of the roe or of the hind. When at rest, the merest whisper of the wind, or the falling of a leaf, may disturb it. Hence the bride charges the daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes and by the hinds of the field, that they stir not up, nor awaken her Beloved, till He please. Mark that word, “Till He please!” If a change is ever to be effected, let Him make it; anything that He may please. It is all Himself her Beloved Her cup of happiness is full when she is with Him. And she fears lest the least thing should disturb Him. Thus the slightest thought, the merest mention of evil, may disturb our enjoyed communion. Oh, for that loved and long communion which knows no disturbance, which has no limit, and no end!
The question is asked, “Who is this that cometh up from the wilderness?” As we may say, What sinner is this claiming such a relationship? Elsewhere she tells of herself, “I am black, but comely,” as it were, “two armies;” i.e., of a twofold nature―the one black and the other comely. She was looking on herself when she said, “I am black;” she was looking on her Beloved when she said, “I am comely.” But how did she know she was comely? This is blessed. He Himself had told her, and she believed. He had shown her that which He had made her for Himself. He had told her, “Thou art all fair, my love; there is no spot in thee.” She consents to this. What else could she do? Oh, thus it is when God tells me I am holy, I must believe it! I say, how wonderful! what joy! And though it is all different from what I should have thought―so sinful, so unholy, that is, in myself―yet am I to deny Him? He tells me that I am “made the righteousness of God in Him;” that I am “washed, and sanctified, and justified” in Christ. I believe it. Can I deny it? But though thus comely, she adds, “I am black.” Let me linger a little over this; for it is just now of greatest interest. Through all dispensations the Adam-heart is the same sinful, corrupt thing; nothing has ever changed or improved it. After the flood, as before, it was the same. During the millennium the stony heart will be taken away as a special blessing promised to Israel, and a heart of flesh given in its stead; so that, for that term of blessedness on the earth, there will be, among the saved, no old nature and no old enemy. Glorious relief! Satan will be chained; the heart changed! But man, after the millennium, will show he is still the same.
It was when the sun looked upon our Shulamite that she saw she was black. It was when the patriarch saw God, he said, “I abhor myself.” Also the prophet who exclaimed, “Woe is me!” But when it was said, “Thine iniquity is purged,” then was the prophet, as God saw him, comely. These words, “black, but comely,” are full of divine truth; the old nature and the new, the flesh and the Spirit, self and Christ, the law in the members and the law of the mind, are all there. The one comprehends all that which, as a child of Adam, I am in myself; the other all that which I am in Christ. The history of the world, with all its sins and ills, is in the one; the history of the new creation, with all its bliss, is in the other.
How far Solomon or his Shulamite knew their import we cannot say. The Spirit of truth has now come, and we know the things which are freely given to us of God. But how many do not know. To learn the doctrine is one thing, to know it for one’s own soul is another. To the late Mr. Haldane a student remarked, “I have found original sin in the Bible.” “Well,” replied the latter, “have you found it in your own heart?” Few know the many hells of evil which lie in the abysses of their own heart.
Sometimes they are exposed to view as the candle of the Lord is let down into them. Then what abhorrence! But God’s abhorrence is seen at the cross. It was because of our vileness that He poured out His wrath on His Son. Hence the deeper my sense of what God did with sin at the cross, the more shall I see its vileness. But it is one thing to see what vileness is, and quite another to see release. Many, professedly holding to the cross, practically deny its power. They say they are vile, that “in their flesh dwells no good thing.” But they do not see that on believing in Christ they are comely; neither do they see that they have power over it as in Rom. 8:3, 43For what the law could not do, in that it was weak through the flesh, God sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh, and for sin, condemned sin in the flesh: 4That the righteousness of the law might be fulfilled in us, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit. (Romans 8:3‑4). They are still working, as did the woman with the issue of blood, and waiting for a better, a less defiled heart. But, unlike her, they have not found the value of a simple touch of Christ, who has judicially on the cross put away the “vileness.” Alas! the holiest can say, “I carry a dark plague in my heart.” But to one intelligent in the truth, instead of that plague driving to despair, it causes to look to Christ who took its doom on the tree. Such can say, “I have a vile heart, a heart which never knows peace; (for does God ever give that heart peace?) but I have another heart, a new heart, a heart to know Christ, and to know that Christ did not come to get holiness out of the sinful Adam-heart, or to make it whiter than snow, but to condemn it, and to make atonement for its guilt.” What meets the case is not mending or washing, or dreaming that it is clean gone because lost to our own consciousness, but death. Can I by any effort of mine effect this? No; it was judicially effected when Christ died. The “I am black,” the “I am vile,” came to its judicial doom on the cross. Christ dying on the cross took all on Himself, and endured the penalty of all, as we sing―
“Our sins, our guilt, in love divine
Confessed and borne by Thee,
The gall, the curse, the wrath were Thine,
To set Thy members free.”
“Free” not from the presence of the flesh, or from sin in the flesh, but from our guilt, and the judgment due to us. We are saved not from the presence, but from the doom and power over us of our own sinful nature, and have now a new nature, another life than that which we have by nature. In Christ God condemned sin in the flesh. Our connection now, by faith, is with Christ after He has done with sin. We have died with Christ, and are risen with Christ, and are not counted by God as being in the flesh though the flesh is still in us. “Christ is now my life,” may the believer say, “and I am responsible to live the life I have in Him. If I abide in Him, I shall not sin, shall not practice sin. It is looking at Christ, beholding as in a glass the glory of the Lord, that I am changed into the same image.” Thus for the child of God, as another has said, “there is power in Christ to subdue the evil by engaging the heart with Christ.” The very evil he finds in himself becomes an occasion of communion with Him who has borne its judgment, that he may be delivered from its dominion. He keeps his eye on Christ, and lives by another; thus the evil which would spring up if his eye were averted is subdued, and the power of Christ rests upon his weakness, and he can therefore glory in it. He “walks in the Spirit,” and does not fulfill “the lusts of the flesh.”
We have ever to remember that if the flesh is not kept in subjection by the power of the Holy Ghost, or is vainly supposed to have gone, it will cut out plenty of sorrowful work for us. But, blessed be God, Jesus ever liveth. Here is our strength and comfort in all our conflict and exercise of heart. We can count on Him, and find Him amply sufficient for the need of every hour.
As to Rom. 8:1313For if ye live after the flesh, ye shall die: but if ye through the Spirit do mortify the deeds of the body, ye shall live. (Romans 8:13), the apostle states the great broad truth: that to live after the flesh is the way of death, and to live after the Spirit is the way of life. That is, living after the flesh, we are, as the word is, “about to die;” but living after the Spirit, we are not about to live, but we shall live. In John 4:4747When he heard that Jesus was come out of Judea into Galilee, he went unto him, and besought him that he would come down, and heal his son: for he was at the point of death. (John 4:47) the nobleman’s son was “at the point of death” ―the same form of expression as “ye shall die,” or are about to die.
In Gal. 5:19-2119Now the works of the flesh are manifest, which are these; Adultery, fornication, uncleanness, lasciviousness, 20Idolatry, witchcraft, hatred, variance, emulations, wrath, strife, seditions, heresies, 21Envyings, murders, drunkenness, revellings, and such like: of the which I tell you before, as I have also told you in time past, that they which do such things shall not inherit the kingdom of God. (Galatians 5:19‑21), the apostle sets forth the moral features of the flesh, and declares that those who are characterized thereby shall not inherit the kingdom of God. But the Christian is not so characterized, though surely, if not watchful, he will exhibit some of these hideous features. May we be kept ever looking off unto Jesus, that we may not walk after the flesh, or manifest its fruits! Our God has graciously given us wholesome words of exhortation and warning, and we should never try to take off their edge by any system of interpretation that might tend to make out an easy way for the flesh, or imagine there can be any perfection of it. Every true lover of holiness will delight in the pungency and power of the Spirit’s admonitions, not forgetting that “there hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man: but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it” (1 Cor. 10:1313There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man: but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it. (1 Corinthians 10:13)).
Appropriate to the two natures there is a striking dividing of this truth, quite in itself a Bible study, in Rom. 3, taken in connection with chap. 4 of our Song. In the one we see what we are in ourselves; in the other what grace has made us. Over the one you might inscribe “black;” over the other “comely.”
In Rom. 3 we are “in the flesh;” nay, we are “flesh” ―sinful, corrupt. In the Song quite another nature, the nature of the dove, is ascribed to us. There the bride has “dove’s eyes.” The dove is remarkable for seeing her cot from far-off distances. As Noah’s dove knew the ark, keeping it in view, knowing amidst the wilderness of waters where it was, so do we through grace ever keep Christ in view, tempest-tossed though we be. It is our one life act as Christians, however much at times we may fail.
In the Epistle the “mouth full of cursing;” the “poison of asps” is under their lips. In the Song they are as “a thread of scarlet,” reminding us of how we were redeemed. Moreover, they “drop as the honeycomb: honey and milk are under thy tongue.” In the Epistle we are altogether “unprofitable;” in the Song we are altogether “fair.”
The way of the sinner in the Epistle is HARD and destructive, and the way of peace he has not known. The true way for the bride is only PLEASANTNESS.
These truths indicate two natures, two fountains, else how could the one fountain send forth bitter and sweet? Blessed well of water hath the bride now springing up in her when she can say, “My Beloved is mine, and I am His” Blessed experience truly these two things! In the one, “My Beloved is mine” ―her cup is full; in the other, “I am my Beloved’s” ―it runs over. Our knowledge of Christ, that He is our Beloved, is one thing; but to know and enjoy His thought of us, that we are His Beloved, is another. Sweet indeed to own Him as our Beloved; but sweeter to know that we are His beloved, and that we have found our place as those dearly loved by Him―never out of Him, but always in Him, in the love and purpose of God, from all ages.
Chapters 2:16 and 4:6, 7, 8 are another landing stage in this subject, and should be read in connection. Sweet is the voice of the bride, “He feedeth among the lilies!” She herself is a lily; as a lily among thorns, so is she among the daughters. He feeds on the confidence and love of those for whom He died. We remember how with one such at the well of Jacob, He had food to eat of which others knew not. He was manifesting grace suited to our need; was receiving the confidence and love of a poor city sinner and thus was doing the will of His Father. This is a day of grace; but how long is the day to continue? Until He come— “until the day break, and the shadows flee away.” What then? Why, wait and watch for His coming. “I will get me to the mountain of myrrh, and to the hill of frankincense.” Is this the sense you have of Christ? We desire Him; He will come. What height and depth of blessedness is this!
In chapter 4 He calls her “My garden” ― “A garden enclosed is My sister, My spouse; a spring shut up; a fountain sealed.” Mark, the garden is enclosed; it is all for Himself, all for His own enjoyment, as we find in chapter 5:1, where He says, “I am come into My garden.” She had said―and He hears the merest breathing of our desire― “Let Him come;” not “let Him” in the sense of being indifferent to His coming. Ah, no! nothing on her part hinders. She is waiting; she is longing. But no sooner asked than He does come; comes, shall I say, to receive― comes to feast on. His garden fruits. He does not send to gather the fruit, but says, “I have gathered My myrrh with My spice.” He considers everything in His garden as His own, and says, “My honeycomb, My honey, My wine, My milk.” It is all “My, My.” Precious truth! we are not our own, we are bought with a price. The gardener, indeed, may and does come―but to labor; not so with the owner, who comes to eat, to feast on the fruits of the garden, to see the beauty and inhale the fragrance of its fruits and its blossoms. Ah! it is thus that the Beloved comes more to receive than to give. When Abraham had spread for the Lord a feast at Mamre, knowing the secret of his heart, he said “For therefore art Thou come.” The Lord had come for that very end. Oh, it is thus. He comes now! He does bestow, but His delight is to receive, and all we can give is welcome.
Not the honey merely, but the honeycomb as if He would have all. When Jonathan ate the honey his eyes were enlightened. The Word is honey to our taste, and the word of Christ is to dwell richly in us in all wisdom. Thus He receives of His own. In Christ “the Beloved” our whole selves are accepted. He hath redeemed all; the spirit is the Lord’s, the soul is the Lord’s, and the body is the Lord’s. Let, the afflicted in body think of this. Poor and weak the body may be, in torment of suffering even; it is all His. He can do with His own as He pleases, drawing forth our love, our trust, and confidence in the darkest trial. The same with all else. All we are and have are His. Ah, it is as if He had said, I am come for what I have before enjoyed―your love, your confidence, your memories of Me, of My death; all are precious―as if He had said, I have eaten, I have drunk; I have often come, and I am come again, knowing of a certainty I shall receive.
Oh, saints of the Lord, if you will look at self, look at it thus. Look at yourselves as He looks at you, specially at such times of communion as you enjoy at His table. He says, I am in your midst; I am come down into My garden. Give Me your memories of My love, of My sorrows, of My death. Remember how I have suffered; remember Me as still absent; remember that I am coming again. “Eat, O friends, drink, O beloved; do this in remembrance of Me.” Such then is the spouse of Christ, a garden, a fountain of gardens, that which satisfies Christ.
Applying it to ourselves, poor creatures that we are, who have fallen so low, well may the wondering universe exclaim, “Who is this?” And none may wonder more than ourselves at the grace in which we stand―we, who in ourselves are but vile, miserable sinners, once living at enmity with God, but now Christ’s beloved, His garden, His friends, His love. The secret of all is His own love. God so loved the world, that He gave his only begotten Son; land Christ so loved His Church, that He gave Himself. God is love. He has, so to speak, saved us on His love, in righteousness through Christ, who hath redeemed us unto Himself. We are set as a seal upon His heart, and as a seal upon His arm, where none can perish, neither can any be plucked away. We are near His love―near His power. What is worn on Christ’s heart and arm is the image, not of a crown or a star as with kings and princes, but of a sinner, the dearest object of His love. A seal shows possession. The Shulamite is as a seal on His heart; she owns His affections, has a right to His love; she can say, “My Beloved.” Moreover she is as a seal upon His arm; she has His power. All power is His in heaven and earth; and none can break the seal in presence of such an arm. The seal is on His arm. Thus she says, “My Beloved is mine.” The love which made Him such was His own love.
And His love is strong as death; it hath a most vehement flame, which many waters cannot quench, many floods cannot drown. He went down in death lower than our sins, lower than the curse, lower than the deepest wrath. All the floods passed over Him, but His love for us sustained Him―it had a vehement flame―in the midst of it all, and remained unquenched.
Our sins did not alter it; Satan could not. Death and the grave made no difference; it was strong as death and the grave. Oh, how strong is death! In the past human world it has laid hold of all the generations of men, putting them in the dust of the earth. Till the Lord comes, “every man who dies,” Job says, “shall draw after him as there are innumerable before him” (Job 21:3333The clods of the valley shall be sweet unto him, and every man shall draw after him, as there are innumerable before him. (Job 21:33)). Its bill of mortality, how great! Who can stand against death? If the blessed Lord should tarry, we too shall have to succumb to its power; if He wait, “the grave will be our house.” Thus, as none can keep us out of the power of death, or disentangle the ashes of the departed from the dust of the grave, so is it sweet to think that, once in the power of Christ’s love, none can separate.
No condemnation! ―blessed is the word!
No separation! ―forever with the Lord.
This sweet Song now changes. “Solomon had a vineyard.” The, singer looks out upon glorious times ―the sunny season of the millennial earth. For the most part all the brides of Scripture do this. This is our thought in dealing with them. What glory in the latter day! What riches! For in the day of the Solomon-glory the earth will be the Lord’s, with the fullness thereof; the mountains dropping wine; the cattle upon a thousand hills. And others will share the inheritance. Hence, “My vineyard, which is mine, is before me: thou, O Solomon, must have a thousand, and those that keep the fruit thereof two hundred.” Always chief in her affections, the Bridegroom must have the thousand. In the millennial earth the Lamb’s bride will have her part, but in all things He will have the pre-eminence.
And when He who is greater than Solomon has His vineyard, and the marriage of the Lamb has come, the Nazarite vow being no longer needed, He will drink the wine with her new in His kingdom.
Sweet to forecast this glory yet to come! but its delights and enjoyments are all arranged. “I appoint unto you a kingdom, as My Father has appointed unto Me; that ye may eat and drink at My table in My kingdom, and sit on thrones judging the twelve tribes of Israel” (Luke 22:3030That ye may eat and drink at my table in my kingdom, and sit on thrones judging the twelve tribes of Israel. (Luke 22:30)). The Lord will then drink of the fruit of the vine in His kingdom in token of His joy, and we shall eat and drink at His table in His kingdom with Him.
Surely there will be the joy unspeakable and full of glory then―the joy of the heavens filled with the glorious millions once on earth, but now as bride or guest at the marriage supper of the Lamb, or in the golden city over the earth―and joy on the earth through the long term of its millennial blessedness, in which nothing shall “hurt nor destroy in all My holy mountain,” saith the Lord. The bride longs for this joy. The Spirit in us says, “Come,” and the bride long waiting says, “Come.” Hence the words, “Make haste, my Beloved” ― “flee away!” as the word is, bound! How beautiful! It is He who is to make haste. Truly how beautiful! For she has no need (oh, would that it were always so with us!) to make haste, or get herself ready; she is in haste (this is our normal state), she is ready, her heart is engaged and is longing, and would bound away to Him at any moment. She who at the beginning longed for the relationship of sister, that she might indulge her heart’s affections, cannot be unwilling, cannot be unready, nay, is willing and ready, now that He calls her His beloved, His fair one, and comes to claim her with whom He has chosen to enjoy an eternal relationship better than that of son or daughter; so that through His own will, His own death for her, it will be hers to say, as the bride of His heart forever, “I AM MY BELOVED’S, AND MY BELOVED IS MINE.” Oh! is it not in knowing this that the soul is humbled, subdued, satisfied. Drinking from such a cup, we shall never thirst. To be what He has made us―to be His beloved―this forever is enough!
Reluctantly we now part with this beautiful Song. May the affections of our hearts correspond with those of the bride, which tell us how the love of Christ in us can express itself whilst communing with its soul-satisfying, soul-ravishing object.