"His desire is toward me..."

The church has historically thought of the Song of Songs as an allegory of Christ and his church, or of Christ and the individual soul. More recent commentators, who feel that the allegorical approach is a cover up for the church's embarrassment about all things sexual, exalt the Song as a story of two lovers, no more, no less. Delitzsch strikes a middle ground: the Song is a love story, but because all love stories are reflections of The Love Story, it can be considered a type of the greater. So far I hold with Delitzsch.

Interpretive issues aside, no Christian who repeatedly reads the Song can escape finding himself in the narrative. In this entry I want to look especially at the three confessions made by the Shulamite--confessions that are the result of the actions of her lover.

The first confession is "My beloved is mine, and I am his." It follows two opposite experiences: first, disenchantment with serving in the vineyards for her brothers (religious experience defined by someone else--legalism),and, second, the giddy awareness of being in love. She is feeling both the relief of being loved, but also the fear of going back to what she came out of. Note the order of the confession: "he is mine" is spoken first. The relationship depends on her capacity to hold on. She is tenacious out of desperation and fear. While that is a mark of a new Christian fresh from the bondage of the world, it will eventually block maturity.

Her lover does not deal with this fear by consolation. Rather, he creates situations in which she must choose between her fear and her desire for him. She prefers the safety of their country home. But he comes and calls her away--and at least one time mentions the dreaded vineyards. When she disobeys, he withdraws his presence. In two instances he does this, and both times her love for him overcomes her reticence to follow. In one case she is abused by the "watchmen on the walls," the keepers of the status quo who do not believe it is proper for a young lady to demonstrate too much exuberance about her lover.

It is impossible to read these passages and not think of the "dark night of the soul" or the kataphatic/apophatic tension I mentioned in "Boxes," March 6. Most of us spend a long time in this phase. Notice the confession at the end of this process: "I am my beloved's, and my beloved is mine." It is the reverse of the first. It is spoken by one who has learned the joy of obedience.

But it is not the last word. The third confession is "I am my beloved's, and his desire is toward me." The very words create a yearning in the heart, so close and packed with meaning, and yet so far away--causing one to stretch to hear it. This confession is not brought about by withdrawal and discipline. It is preceded by some of the most intense love poetry in any language. It is spoken out of intimacy; it is purely relational. It does not come from external experience, but from direct knowledge of the character of a person.

It is a statement of absolute rest, not lethargy; peace, not timidity; trust, not fatalism. She loves him because she knows the depth and security of his love. She returns to the vineyard, not out of obligation, but because it is where he is. May God bring us all to such a place before we die.

(Picture: 12th Century cover of a manuscript of the Song)