Saturday, July 4, 2020

Song of Solomon 2:8-13

Song of Solomon 2:8-13

The voice of my beloved!

Look, he comes,

leaping upon the mountains,

bounding over the hills.

My beloved is like a gazelle

or a young stag.

Look, there he stands

behind our wall,

gazing in at the windows,

looking through the lattice.

10 My beloved speaks and says to me:

“Arise, my love, my fair one,

and come away;

11 for now the winter is past,

the rain is over and gone.

12 The flowers appear on the earth;

the time of singing has come,

and the voice of the turtledove

is heard in our land.

13 The fig tree puts forth its figs,

and the vines are in blossom;

they give forth fragrance.

Arise, my love, my fair one,

and come away.

 

The Song of Solomon is an ode to erotic love that describes what could have been and can be again. The passionate longings of its characters give us important insights into the nature of human desire and the nature of God's desire for us. The Song does not mention the name of God, a characteristic it shares with Esther. Yet, as part of the canon, we as readers find hints of the divine. God does not simply tolerate us - weak and fallible creatures that we are. Instead, God has a passion for each one of us and a hunger to be intimately involved with us. The references to vineyards and gardens in the Song may refer to the Garden of Eden. That story did not end happily. It ended with alienation and separation. This Song suggests restoration of the intimacy that existed there, between man and woman and between humanity and God.[1]

The attempt to turn this little book into an allegory of the relationship between the people of the Lord and the Lord fails for lack of evidence within the book. Pilgrim’s Progress by John Bunyan is a good example of how an allegory is not subtle. Nothing in the book suggests that when it speaks of the kiss between these two lovers it is referring to anything other than their passionate kiss. The allegorical approach arose with the rise of a form of Platonism that suggested one could nourish the life of the soul only if one ignored or suppressed the desires of the body. In some ways, the Freudian openness regarding sexuality allows us to see the honesty regarding romantic love contained in this book better than the ancient church. We are ensouled bodies (Barth), and thus are not whole persons if we ignore either aspect of who we are. The intimate relationship between man and woman is a gift of creation. God has an interest in us as whole persons. Granting that the relationship between Adam and Eve in both its intimacy and its alienation is the story of every male and female relationship, then the poetry of the Songs of Songs reflects the redemption of intimacy and sexuality. The couple is naked in the garden and enjoying each other fully and thoroughly. The book contains a celebration of sexuality and caution regarding it. 

I invite you to reflect upon the discipleship dimension of our enjoyment of the pleasures of this life. The text properly focuses upon sexuality. Most of the Bible seems content to refer to sex either with prohibitions or with the restrained references to marriage and posterity. The church hesitates to talk about sexual love. We are rightfully modest about these matters. Such things are private and reserved for the intimate relationship between couples. Yet, our society forces us to think about sexual matters in an increasingly public way. Since the beginning of the 20th century, our culture has compulsively talked more about sex than it has anything else. We have become so preoccupied with sex, and yet, derive so little meaning, happiness, and fun from having it. Yet, the Song of Solomon revels the “more” of romantic, sensual love. This fact could be a doorway for us as followers of Jesus to enjoy not only sexual pleasure, but also other pleasures of this life that may come our way as well. To state the obvious, we ought not to derive our meaning and purpose from finite pleasures. Of course, one could become addicted to any of these pleasures. Any designed pleasure can become a path to self-destruction. Such is the power of sin. Yet, the danger ought not to keep us from genuine enjoyment. Such reminders represent the modesty we need to have regarding our desires. However, we would hardly be disciples who have learned to express gratitude if we did not enjoy the pleasures of this life. It seems quite right to offer to the Lord the right-minded desires of our hearts (Psalm 20:4). The Lord withholds no good thing from those who live rightly (Psalm 84:11). The fulfillment of the desires of the heart becomes a tree of life (Proverbs 13:12). A realized desire is sweet to the soul (Proverbs 13:19). Rightly ordered desire ends only in good (Proverbs 11:23). God will grant rightly ordered desire (Proverbs 10:24). Of course, the rightly ordered desire of our hearts do not always find fulfillment. Such experiences are part of the suffering and struggle of this life. Even then, our desire may well have dictated certain courses of action that proved their worth. Sexual desire, rightly ordered, leads to an encounter that a man and a woman have the privilege of enjoying. My suggestion is that if that is true, then other desires of our hearts are also important to God. If we have some good fortune, we may find that desire fulfilled as well. 

Sensuality and the dual reproductive apparatus provide for new human beings in succession. Inescapably, the vagina and the penis are made for each other. Sexuality is this coincidence of sensuality and male-female differentiation. The union that occurs is not an impersonal event, but an event in which we captivate each other and become bodily present to the other. Sexuality rescues the human communal character from being a mere ideal. We have no choice but to be fellow-human, and this receives emphasis in that we cannot say “human” without saying man and woman. The woman is for this man, and the man is for this woman, which is the eminent and decisive fellow-human moment. This difference is the only structural difference between human beings, for all other distinctions are human creations. One may hate the shape of one’s body, but maleness or femaleness are not the product of malleable or contingent psychology or social construction. Such givenness of our maleness or femaleness does not allow us to shirk the responsibility of embracing the task and opportunity of being the man or woman whom God has called us to be.[2] A consequence of this sexual reality is that the family is the essential institution of any community. The laws that regulate sexuality, that stipulate what constitutes a family and enforce its integrity, are a condition of all other law-making. Laws regarding sexuality are the reality test of law, for the future of society is at stake. Since the stability of satisfying sexual desire encourages cultural stability, sexual anarchy will lead to rule by arbitrary force, for it brings with it the weakening of the home. A second consequence of sexuality is its humanizing rule. Intercourse is a gesture toward another, a promise of shared life, as one body engulfs another and that body enters another, abolishing the distance between the two. Intercourse is something less than this type of communication, for sin touches it as well. A final consequence of this view of sexuality is that a society will do all it can to encourage heterosexual monogamy. A form of serial polygamy occurs as divorce legislation liberalizes. [3]

The Song of Solomon itself is a reminder of the power of sexual desire.[4] As part of a sacred text, it points to both romantic love and the divine reflection of that love. 

First, the Song reminds us that sex is good and is a gift of God. At the same time, the collection of songs expresses the elusiveness of love, the blessedness of beauty, the importance of devotion, and that love is lasting until death. This text reminds us that sexuality for us is not simply a biological urge to merge. It represents so much more than that. This text celebrates romantic love. God created us with sexual desire, including passion and romance.  The story communicates the elusiveness of romantic love.  Sexual love is desire, and as such, it will not bring fulfillment into our lives. I grant that in romance novels people speak of romantic love as if it brings union with another human being. The quest for oneness with another human being always ends with the awareness that you are still two persons who must work out the complexities of a relationship. As important as romance may be to us, we recognize at some level that we need more than romance. True lovers seek to bring pleasure to the other person. Yet, too often, our expression of sexual desire is little more than getting the other to meet our needs. In the Song of Solomon, we find love woven with play, imagination, and delight — a nudity that it both exalted and desired. Moreover, there is no guilt found anywhere regarding the body or sexual desire. Considering this song invites us to consider the good gift of God that sex is. 

Second, as a gift from God, this little Song invites us to honor our sexuality. The Bible and the church are not against sex, although it can feel like it at times. Christians have been part of movements that have banned books due to their sexual content. Yet, discomfort with sexual content is unfortunate because it causes us to miss the wider value of these banned books and to see the role that sexual material plays in the larger stories. At the same time, the Bible and the church have a profound respect for the power of sex. It can give life or death. It can heal and destroy. Yet, this Song can become quite steamy. The woman says, "Your love is better than wine, your anointing oils are fragrant, your name is perfume poured out; therefore, the maidens love you .... I held him, and would not let him go until I brought him into my mother's house, and into the chamber of her that conceived me." The man says, "Your two breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle, which feed among the lilies .... How sweet is your love, my sister, my bride! How much better is your love than wine, and the fragrance of your oils than any spice." The woman says, "My beloved thrust his hand into the opening, and my inmost being yearned for him. I arose to open to my beloved, and my hands dripped with myrrh, my fingers with liquid myrrh, upon the handles of the bolt. ... I am faint with love." Yes, this Song can get steamy. I wonder how many Christians would want it banned! Yet, these words come from Holy Scripture (Song of Songs (Solomon) 1:2-3; 3:4; 4:5, 10; 5:4-5, 8). Sex motivates us consciously or unconsciously when we fall in love. If the relationship continues long enough, we will fall out of love. Sexual love needs time to mature into real love as a couple works at building an enduring relationship. Otherwise, all sexual attractions end in disappointments and disaster.[5] The Song is a reminder of the human fear of isolation, aloneness, and separation that forms the foundation of much our anxiety. We long for an encounter that will address our anxiety. Yet, we avoid a genuine encounter when we lose ourselves in work, pleasing others, popularity, and wealth. We long for an encounter with something greater than we are. Yet, we focus upon and cling to finite things. Our longing may result in the false encounters created by addiction to drugs, alcohol, sexuality, or religion. We might even submerge our individual longing into those of the crowd and identify with its customs and beliefs. Such attempts to overcome our fear of aloneness are futile because they seek fulfillment in finite things. As important and valuable as finitude is, it derives its meaning from a connection from the Infinite and Eternal. The finite can only be a partial answer to the longings of the human heart. It ought not to surprise us that we find a hint of the answer to our longing for an encounter in love.[6]

Third, the Song hints at the discipline we need as we experience sexual desire. It hints at the genuinely enjoyable nature of our sexuality. It suggests that our desires are strong enough that they may occur outside of a committed relationship. When we consider the rest of Scripture, we need to remember that the happiness of a home outweighs the momentary nature of sexual desire. We need to note the close connection between God and Eros. This Song stands as a long description of the rapture, the unquenchable yearning and the restless willingness and readiness, with which both partners in the covenant hasten towards an encounter. With this covenant in view, man and woman must hasten toward an encounter despite any hindrance and restriction.[7]Thus, the recurring themes of waiting and longing are not forms of punishment to these lovers. There is no sense of “wanting it all and wanting it now” with them. Instead, the lovers are willing to wait for one another because they know that each is fully committed to the relationship. They can dream of one another, wax poetic about each other, search for one another, even risk harm for one another (5:7), all because each knows that the other is waiting. This is no one-night stand, no dark-alley tryst — it is about unbridled passion found within the bonds of committed love. The truth is that real intimacy (and good sex, by association) is the result of a lot of time and energy invested in commitment, loving our partners with our hearts long before loving them with our bodies. They delay consummation of their love and sexual gratification in favor of a playful and passionate sense of anticipation. Throughout the Song, the lovers move toward and away from one another, in a sense revealing that desire and anticipation are often more intoxicating than instant gratification!

 

The song contained in 2:8-13, a song that extends to verse 17, is a springtime rhapsody, but one of multiple similar songs within the collection that speaks of love between a man and a woman. In this case, her boyfriend is approaching her home. He has nobility, vigor, and gracefulness. He seems wary of coming too close. This segment describes the wish of the woman for the couple to run away together, to be alone in nature in the springtime. The passage is is full of flora and fauna.

The voice of my beloved (dôdî[8] which is a favorite term for her boyfriend). The first trait that the young woman identifies in her beloved, while he is still at some distance, is his voice. This noun occurs twice more in this scene (vv. 12, 14), serving to tie the passage together. (The noun does not occur again until the very end of the book, at 8:13, despite the elaborate physical descriptions of the lovers in chapters 5 and 7, where the synonym “speech” is used instead of “voice,” 5:16.). Look, he comes, the young woman describing his approach to her family’s home. He comes, in images of both nimbleness and eagerness, leaping upon the mountains, bounding over the hills. Few books in the Bible, and certainly none as brief as eight short chapters, contain such a wealth of pastoral imagery and vocabulary as the Song of Songs. It does not escape the young woman’s notice to see — and comment on — how eagerly the young man makes haste to her window.  My beloved is like a gazelle[9] (an honorific designation for nobility or royalty who have demonstrated military prowess). My beloved is even like a young stag[10]denoting vigor and gracefulness. Look, inviting others to look with her, there he stands behind our wall, gazing in at the windows, looking through the lattice. The groom often must stay outside the house while attendants prepare the bride for the wedding.  The groom is like a peeping tom. He seems wary of coming too close to human habitations and prepares for flight at the first sight of the brothers of the girl.  Verses 10-13 are one of the few places in the Old Testament that celebrate the beauty of the land of Israel. 10 My beloved speaks and says to me, noting that in this delightful poem the woman quotes the man in expressing his desire to be with the object of his desire: “Arise, my love, (a favorite physical and erotic term of the boy for the girl) my fair one (an oblique but pointed refutation of the young woman’s complaint in 1:5-6 that outside manual labor has darkened her skin, making her, in some eyes at least, less desirable than a pampered light-skinned maiden) and come away; (supporting notion they are not married) 11 for now the winter is past, the rain is over and gone. This suggests the time for leaving is optimal. The rains of spring made travel on the roads difficult. The lack of a suggested destination is not significant, for as long as they are together, it will be enough for them. 12 The flowers appear on the earth; the time of singing has come, whether the singing connected with fieldwork or simply the singing that emerges spontaneously in response to spring’s beauty and the well-known experience that spring is the time for love is unknown, and we hear the voice of the turtledove (as they return from their winter migration) in our land. 13 The fig tree puts forth its figs, and the vines are in blossom; (all of which suggests the April and May period, with temperatures ranging from 40s to low 70s). Further, the vines give forth fragrance. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away. It seems that with springtime comes belief in new adventures, new possibilities, and a new outlook on life.[11] Spring is a time to be outdoors in a private garden setting. It is a time to remove clothes, a time of new growth and fertility, as well as fragrant smells.

When we make love, the instinct, rhythm, and radiance of the human body come alive. The wisdom of the body has its own grace, ease, and joy. Making love is rich in symbolism and ambivalence. It arises on the threshold between solitude and intimacy, skin and soul, feeling and thought, memory and future. As an expression of love, it becomes an act of great beauty that brings celebration, wonder, delight, closeness, and shelter. If we are ensouled bodies (Barth), then making love is the entwining of two souls.[12]

Making love is that moment when everything seems okay with the world. Its brief moments become an escape from the pain, suffering, and brokenness of life. The world seems right for a brief time, even if things appear to be falling apart. The longing contained within the act of making love is start to again, to give yourself away, to at least make oneself available for hope, healing, and restoration. Sex is so powerful because it provides a glimpse into the world we desire but cannot seem to create.[13]

In the Song of Songs, we can see the basis for sex being a sacramental act. It gives us a glimpse, taste, and sense of the love of God. Divine and human love are embodied, particular, passionate, and playful. Such love is full of hyperbole, longing, and surprise. We best evoke such love with the language of eros. Human eros points us toward God, and in that sense, is sacramental. It becomes such in the context of genuine care, tenderness, and fidelity because God is caring, tender, and faithful. As such, we are not trifle with sex. We need to treasure it, nurture it, and give it room to grow.[14]

Divine and human intimacy share dynamics that make one a school for the other. The safety of the embrace helps us to keep growing and changing.[15] Understanding intimacy in this way takes us beyond the simply sexual. In a culture so obsessed with sex, it desperately lacks intimacy. If we view the sex act itself as the height of intimacy, then we will miss the true gift of intimacy. Human sexuality is itself the desire for intimacy with another, of which the act of sex is only a part.[16] Thus, sharing moments of life, whether it be what happened while apart, sharing housework and raising children, play, and so on, are important ways of developing intimacy that can culminate in the act of making love. Our cultural image is that the best sex is occurring among the wild and free single crowd. Yet, studies regularly show that as a rule, the most satisfied people with their sex life is occurring between two people who are married, over 30, faithful to each other, and who enjoy marriage.[17] Real intimacy (and really good sex) is the result of a lot of time and energy invested in commitment, loving our partners with our hearts long before loving them with our bodies.

I offer a prayer. 

God of love, for all your gracious gifts, I give you thanks. I especially thank you today for the gift of love. You have not left me alone, as if I were to make my way on my own on this earth. From the first, others loved and cherished me. Others touched my life. I give you thanks for the love parents, friends, and family could offer. Help me to be a better lover. Enable me to express myself better with others. Enable me to give rather than take. Teach me to look upon others in love rather than remake them into my image. Help me to see the gentle, loving, and lovable aspects of others. Give me patience with the foibles and weaknesses of others, in the hope that one day, they will be patient with mine. Remind me that I love because I have received love. You are the God who is love and thus loves unconditionally and committedly. My thankful awareness that I have received love makes be better able to love others. I ask that others will see, in my faithful attempts to love them, some measure of the love with which you have loved us all. Amen.



[1] Phyllis Trible, “A Love Story Gone Awry” (in God and the Rhetoric of Sexuality, Fortress Press, 1978).

[2] (Jenson, Systematic Theology, 1997) Vol II, 88-90.

[3] (Jenson, Systematic Theology, 1997) Vol II, 90-93.

[4] The Sumerians had similar love poems, Dumuzi and Inanna being one and Set Me Free, My Sister is another.

[5] Scott Peck, in The Road Less Traveled,

[6] Eric Fromm, The Art of Loving, 78

[7] Barth, Church Dogmatics, III.1 [41.3] 313-5.

[8] The term occurs elsewhere in the Hebrew Bible (only once, however, with the first-person singular suffix, in Isaiah 5:1), and it can mean simply “love” or “friend” or even “uncle.” The girl also refers to the boy as “the king” (1:4, 12), one of several terms (such as “sister” and “bride” at, for example, 5:1) being used figuratively to convey the extravagant emotions each lover incites in the other. As the narrative of the Song makes clear, taking the terms literally poses grave difficulties for the sense of the poem.

[9] The word “gazelle” is used elsewhere in the Hebrew Bible, as well as in Ugaritic literature, as an honorific designation for nobility or royalty who have demonstrated military prowess (cf. David’s lament for Saul and Jonathan, II Samuel 1:19, where the same word as “gazelle” is translated there in its metaphoric extension as “glory”).

[10] The Hebrew word translated “stag” (’ayil) is from a root meaning “to be in front of, precede, lead,” and has been connected by some scholars with the noun/proper name ’el/’El, “god/the god El.” The terms are used in synonymous parallelism in the present bi-colon, both denoting the young man’s vigor as well as his gracefulness.

[11] Renita Weems, New Interpreter’s Commentary on the Bible.

[12] —John O’Donohue, Beauty: The Invisible Embrace (Harper Perennial, 2005).

[13] —Rob Bell, Sex God: Exploring the Endless Connections Between Sexuality and Spirituality (Zondervan, 2008), 166-167.

[14] —Elizabeth Myer Boulton and Matthew Myer Boulton, “Sacramental sex: Divine love and human intimacy,” The Christian Century, March 11, 2011.

[15] —Adapted from Richard Rohr: Essential Teachings on Love, eds. Joelle Chase and Judy Traeger (Orbis Books: 2018), 149-150, 52-53.

[16] —Corey Farr, “Singles Myth: The Intimacy Challenge,” Patheos.com, January 10, 2020. https://www.patheos.com/blogs/jesuscreed/2020/01/10/singles-myth-the-intimacy-challenge/ Retrieved February 3, 2020.

[17] —Tim Gardner, “Exposing the Sex Lie,” Christianity Today International/Marriage Partnership magazine, Summer 1998, Vol. 15, No. 2, 72.

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