The Beloved Comes a Calling—Lectionary Reflection for Pentecost 15B (Song of Solomon 2)
Song of Songs 2:8-13 New Revised Standard Version Updated Edition
8 The voice of my beloved!
Look, he comes,
leaping upon the mountains,
bounding over the hills.
9 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.
**********************
Solomon
is a beloved figure in biblical lore. He is David’s heir, the builder of a
Temple for God, and renowned for his wisdom. Biblical books including Proverbs,
Ecclesiastes, and the Song of Solomon (Song of Songs, Canticles) are all
attributed to him, though his authorship is largely disputed. The Revised
Common Lectionary (semi-continuous version) has invited us to consider how
Solomon asked God for wisdom and built a Temple, for which he offered a prayer
of dedication (1 Kings 2:10-12; 3:3-14 and 1 Kings 8). Now we turn to another
book attributed to the wise king of Israel (we will then spend three weeks with
readings from Proverbs).
Readers familiar with the Song of Solomon (also known as Song of Songs and
Canticles) will know that it is a rather erotic piece of biblical literature. Sensitive
to discussions of sex, early Christians decided to interpret it allegorically
to speak of the relationship between Christ and the Church (we are the bride,
and he is the beloved). The book itself is in essence a collection of love
songs that are very erotic/sexually-oriented, with two primary characters—a
woman and her lover. As one would expect there are numerous parallels to this
song in ancient Near Eastern literature. While attributed to Solomon, it’s more
likely that it was dedicated to him or written in honor of him. Thus, the
author and date are unknown, though it may have been composed over a time
period that spanned between the mid-tenth and the fourth centuries BCE.
As I noted the Song of Solomon has
been read allegorically, in part to soften the eroticism present. This reading
from Chapter 2 of Song of Solomon is the only passage included in the Revised
Common Lectionary. That is unfortunate because, as Lisa Davison notes “Its very
inclusion in the scriptural canon reminds us that sex, when shared between two
consenting adults, is a gift from God” [The Preacher’s Handbook, p.
127]. While the lectionary doesn’t give much attention to it, and therefore
preachers largely avoid it (not purposely, but if following the lectionary
there’s little incentive to go there). However, once upon a time, during the
medieval era, it was highly regarded, such that it was the most commonly quoted
book of the Bible. What is interesting about this book which has been
interpreted theologically and devotionally to speak of the human-divine
relationship, is that God is never mentioned. As Stephanie Paulsell points out,
“What it includes is erotic poetry that leaves no body part uncelebrated, no
fragrance or taste of the beloved undescribed. What it leaves out is any
reference whatsoever to God” [Lamentations and The
Song of Songs, Belief, p. 172].
Our
reading begins with the words: “The voice of my beloved! Look, he comes,
leaping upon the mountains, bounding over the hills.” The one who sings this song
is female. She is waiting for her beloved to come to her. As she waits, she
hears his voice and then sees him leaping upon the mountains and bounding over
the hills. He is like a gazelle or young stag, and when he arrives he stands
behind a wall, looking through the window and lattice.
Having arrived at the home of his beloved,
he calls to her, saying to her: “Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.” Winter is over, the rains have come and gone,
and the spring flowers are breaking forth across the land. Yes, the fig trees
are beginning to bear fruit, and the vines are blooming giving off fragrance.
It’s a time for singing and for going on a journey together. The imagery is
enticing and inviting. While this reading appears in late summer, when fall is
just around the corner, we know what spring is like. That’s especially true for
those of us who live in regions where winter can be hard and cold. So, spring
is something we relish, even if it often is brief, giving way to the heat of
summer before we’re ready to let go of the sweetness of spring.
The reading as stipulated by the
Revised Common Lectionary ends in verse 13, with the woman’s lover calling out
to her once more: “Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.” As we ponder
this brief excerpt of a larger set of love songs, we have to wonder what is
happening here. It appears that the woman’s lover is standing on the other side
of a wall asking her to join him on a journey. We have to wonder whether this
is an illicit love affair. Is he Romeo
and she Juliet? The good news is that the ending isn’t tragic, but a barrier
does seem to stand between the two lovers.
Whatever the case, she is on one
side of a barrier, and he is on the other side. This springtime experience that
he speaks of takes place on the far side of the wall, not on the inside. If
she’s going to experience the beauty of spring, she will need to leave the
security of her enclosure and join her lover on his side of the wall. Speaking
in spiritual terms, Stephanie Paulsell writes: “To step outside is to join the
earth as it turns and changes and comes to life again. To step outside is to
declare one’s allegiance to the life of the world and to find one’s own life
within it” [Lamentations and The Song of Songs, Belief, p. 214].
So, what should we make of this
passage? How should we read it? What might it say to us? Interestingly both
rabbinic and Christian interpretations have envisioned the beloved one standing
on the outside as being God, who keeps an eye on the beloved one. The call is
an invitation to risk going outside and enjoying the beauty that comes with
joining with God.
Although the imagery is rather
erotic and God is not mentioned, the fact that it is canonical (even if some
rabbis wondered whether it should be included because of its erotic nature),
means that it might carry a spiritual message of some sort, even if that
spiritual message is below the surface. We should celebrate this collection of
love songs for what it is on the surface, a collection of love songs that are
very erotic and can serve as a reminder that sexuality is not foreign to God’s
intention for us as humans. The fact that interpreters have recognized the
possibility of discerning a deeper spiritual message need not be abandoned.
Both can be true and as such offer us different opportunities to think about
the nature of relationships, whether sexual or spiritual.
When interpreted spiritually, it
speaks of a deep intimacy that can exist between God and the people of God. If
we read it with this intention, we might hear God calling to us, inviting us to
enter a more intimate relationship. But, as this passage suggests, there might
be a barrier that needs to be transcended if we are to experience the
springlike beauty described in the song. With that in mind, we would be wise to
consider this word from Rabbi Shai Held: “The relationship the Song describes
is hardly smooth or blissful.” Therefore, he writes that he mentions this “because
even in portraying a moment of intense mutuality (God loves Israel and Israel
loves God), the Song makes ample space for the relation that the love between
God and Israel is always aspirational and never consummated once and for all;
the love between God and Israel is constantly forced to reckon with ‘the
transience of the lovers’ availability to each other’ For God to live with
human beings is for God to face stubbornness and intransigence and just pain
indifference; for Israel to live with God is to face moments of silence and
absence and the scenes of being abandoned” Yet at the same time “as the Song
hints, there are also moments when love is mutual and powerful, so real that
one can almost touch it. Such moments are worth everything, and we see to live
by their light even and especially when the world, and the presence of God
within it, seem to go dark” [Judaism Is About Love, pp. 372-374].
When Christians speak of the
divine-human relationship in terms of love, we tend to draw upon the Greek word
agape, which carries a sense of unconditional commitment to the other. It’s
a powerful term that is found throughout the New Testament. But, while the word
eros isn’t used in the passage, this seems to be a good word to draw
upon at this point. If we think in terms of mutual desire as a key component of
the kind of eros found here, we might have another way of thinking about
the divine-human relationship. The two lovers in the song (and the collection
as a whole) desire each Renita Weems writes that “the poet uses the language
and imagery of a rustic, semi-pastoral culture to evoke passion and desire” [New Interpreter’s Bible, 5:395].
The Greek Orthodox
philosopher/theologian Christos Yannaras makes significant use of the word eros
in his theological work. He writes:
The erotic movement from God towards creatures, and from creatures back toward God recapitulates the mode by which what is is, and reveals the space in the whole universe as the unquantified and unmeasured how of a loving communion—a space which can be understood only in poetic categories (“in the good, from the good, to the good”), only as dynamic disclosure “outside of God” of the mystery of the love of the Trinity. [Person and Eros, p. 120].
Note here that Yannaras speaks of the erotic movement being
initiated by God, to which the creature responds. In our reading from the Song
of Solomon, the woman hears the voice of her beloved and sees him coming toward
her, it is the beloved who calls her to arise and join him outside the wall. It
is in this response to the call that the relationship between God and humans
takes place.
The value of a text like the Song
of Solomon is that it allows us to broaden our vision of life in the presence
of God. It reminds us that God desires to be in a relationship with us and
therefore initiates the relationship. As we respond, we experience the
blessings that come with being in the presence of God. Thus, while the word is
not present in the Bible, we can claim the word eros, for it does help
us see how desire works both in human relationships and in divine-human
relationships. While God does initiate the relationship, we needn’t be passive.
In this passage, the woman waits with anticipation. She’s listening for his
voice. She’s watching him bound across the hills and valleys as he makes his
way to her. So perhaps we might envision this erotic relationship between God
and God’s people to be a matter of mutual pursuit.
The
invitation is clear: “Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.” The question
for us is, are we willing to take the step of faith and leave behind the wall
of security and go on a springtime adventure with God (even if God isn’t
mentioned in the book)? Susan Henry-Crowe speaks of the interplay between the
two lovers as an expression of playfulness. Thus, transformation is the product
of what she calls “playful grace.” So, “Whether the Song is read as a love
story between two people or as an allegory about God’s love for all creation,
its beauty is that it invites all humankind to play as if life and love
depended upon it (as they do)” [Feasting on the Word, p. 6]. The
invitation has been given, might we respond in faith and begin the journey that
leads to intimate relationships with God?
Comments