Solomon's Song i. 5, 6

/ am black, but comely, O ye daughters of Jerusalem; as the tents of Kedar, as the curtains of Solomon. Look not upon me, because I am black, because the sun hath looked upon me; my mother s children were angry with me, they made me the keeper of the vineyards; but my own vineyard have I not kept,

THE words of the text are those of Shulamite, a redeemed soul; and they contain a remarkable testimony of herself. She here describes her inward and outward state, in a well conceived picture; and she gives us at the same time a passing sketch from the history of her inward life. Let me beg your attention, while endeavoring to investigate the import of her words. We will consider:

I. Shulamite’s blackness: £ I am black — the sun has

looked upon me.’

n. Her comeliness and beauty: ‘I am comely as the tents of Kedar, as the curtains of Solomon.’ And lastly, reflect upon,

III. The experience which she mentions: f my
mother’s children were angry with me; they
made me keeper of the vineyards; but my own
vineyard have I not kept.

I. — ‘I am black!’ Singular confession! The Bride of the Most Lovely, black! In the kingdom of Christ, how counter every thing runs to reason, and our natural conceptions! For example: one would imagine the natural order to be, first, holiness, and then pardon. But the law of this kingdom reverses the matter, and declares, Pardon first, and then sanctification. Reason thinks virtue to be the way to peace; but the Divine rule makes peace with God precede, and virtue follow as the fruit of peace, and not peace as the fruit of virtue. Human wisdom supposes a man must become upright before he can attain the rights of citizenship in the kingdom of heaven; but the wisdom of God appoints the kingdom to sinners, and numbers integrity of life amongst the things to be enjoyed within its boundaries — not without them. Reason cannot think otherwise, than that a child of *God must be pure and immaculate; and behold, here steps forth such a child of God, a soul entirely devoted to the Lord, and declares without the smallest reserve: * I am black, O ye daughters of Jerusalem.’ Black both inwardly and outwardly. Whence then thy blackness, thou fairest among women? * The sun has looked upon me.’ The sun! what sun? Surely not the Sun of righteousness, that bringeth healing in his wings, and is the fountain of all light? Yes, the very same. In his vicinity, in the blaze of his light, the Shulamite has become black.

Whence does she come, the heavenly dove? Can it be from the world, has she there soiled her plumage; or from the paths of sin, or the fires of temptation? By no means; she is come straightway from the King’s chamber; where she has rejoiced in him, and refreshed herself with the fulness of his grace. And she no sooner leaves this sacred place, than she discovers that she is black. Whence then her blackness? She is black from the rays of that Sun, in whose beams she has been reposing; for her king — even Christ, with whom she had been — he is the sun. We are all by nature black; to the very core the complexion of our heart, our life and being, is black. But who is sensible of this 1 We perceive not our blackness and sinfulness, until exposed to the radiance of the Eternal Sun; until the effulgent glory of God’s presence renders our darkness apparent, and the light of his Spirit penetrating the gloom, discovers to us the dark abyss of our nature; then we exclaim: ‘I am black, O ye daughters of Jerusalem; the sun has looked upon me.’ How was it with Isaiah, when he found himself suddenly near this sun, and saw the Lord sitting upon his exalted throne? He was all at once so black, and found himself so unholy and so miserable, that he began to tremble at himself, and before God, and anxiously exclaimed, ‘Woe is me! I am undone; because I am a man of unclean lips.’ WThat happened to Simon Peter, when he became aware that the Day Spring from on high was with him in his boat? As if struck by lightning, he fell at Jesus’ feet, saying: ‘Depart from me; for I am a sinful man, O Lord!’ — that is, in other words, ‘I am black, O ye daughters of Jerusalem; the sun has looked upon me. And when the Lord looked up at the publican Zaccheus in the sycamore tree, what was the first impression which this look produced 1 The publican became a sinner, became black in his own eyes, black as an Ethiopian, and began to make confession: ( If I have taken any thing from any man by false accusation, I return him four fold.’ Thus it is still: when the Lord condescends to draw near to us, the first effect of his presence is, that all our imagined lustre is dispelled like the mist, and our darkness becomes palpable. The sun makes us black. When the Lord rends the heavens, and comes down to commune with a child of man, and to establish his covenant with him, the immediate effect is, that he feels himself black, and knows his misery. And be assured that he who has not experienced the searching power of that Sun, has never yet come in contact with the Sun itself; he is still without; not even having taken the preliminary steps towards the ratification of the covenant.

‘I am black,’ says the Bride. From whence does this confession proceed? Is it the excessive fervor of a first repentance, as a newly awakened sinner? By no means. It issues from her secret intercourse with the Lord, from a state of grace, and from the chamber of her King; as one of the redeemed, as a member of the kingdom. And she is still black? Yes — that appears strange to many. But is it not strange to him who has been planted in the same soil with the Bride, and who has been led in the same way of salvation; he knows well the impossibility of living in the communion of the great Sun of Righteousness, without* daily discovering in himself, by means of the bright rays, new and deeper shades of darkness; that by means of communion with Christ, one becomes daily blacker, and the state of the soul, as it is by nature, appears worse every day. Those who so easily and rapidly pass over into a state of glorying, on account of their progress in holiness, cause us at least to suspect that they do not sufficiently walk in the light of Jacob, nor hold close communion with the Lord himself. It arises from the nature of the’ intercourse itself, and is confirmed by the experience of all the saints, that the more unreserved our confidence is in the Lord, and the closer our intercourse with Him, the more comprehensive will be our perception of the depth of our own ruin. Every fresh insight into the glory of Immanuel becomes a torch, to display, in a clearer light the greatness of our depravity. Every new discovery of the purity of his nature and his will, strengthens the consciousness of our own impurity. Every new communication of his grace will be a coal of fire upon our head, and will deepen and quicken the feeling of our own un worthiness; and every new experience of his love and faithfulness will make us more painfully sensible of the absence of those qualities in ourselves, and of the coldness of our hearts. Thus, in the light of his countenance, we shall daily discover deformities and stains, which we have hitherto overlooked; daily find occasions to humble ourselves at his feet, and devoutly to rejoice that our wedding garment has long been woven and finished for us; and that the blood and righteousness of Christ are abundantly sufficient to cover us before the judgment-seat of God. Yes, only be and walk with Christ, and have fellowship with Him, and I will warrant you that to the end of your days the Shulamite’s confession will be yours. ‘I am black, O ye daughters of Jerusalem; the sun has looked upon me.y

SERMON ill. 223

‘I am black.’ Black is the Shulamite in her own, and black in the eyes of the world. ‘Look not upon me, because I am black.’ Her Sun has deprived her of her natural complexion, and has made her dark. What does the regenerated soul still continue to bear about her of all the world calls beautiful and delightful? It has all faded like grass in the heat of the Sun that shone upon her. She is no longer seen in the assemblies of her former associates; she has forsaken the counsel of the children of this world, in which she once so joyfully participated; she no longer relishes their frivolous jests, and can contribute nothing to their diversions. She no longer attaches importance to appearances and dazzling show. Worldly fashions, and worldly conviviality, have lost their charm, and worldly views and opinions their hold and their reality. The doctrine of insufficiency which the Shulamite professes, which strips man of every thing, and renders him destitute; the air of conscious sinftilness she bears about with her: the gravity she maintains; the sharp condemnation of unbelief and disregard of the truth ever on her lij il singing, praying, and Bible-reading, with which «0i«- -JM -mis hours, and even days; oh how odious and disgustful they are to the world, and how liberally derision and abuse are showered down upon her. She is slandered, decried, ridiculed; and with good reason may she exclaim, ‘I am black, O ye daughters of Jerusalem’ — black in the estimation of the world: but she adds, * The Sun has looked upon me” — in this she rejoices, and lets the world rage. And were she also black through crosses, persecutions, and adversity; black as Job found himself when he said, ( My skin is black upon me;’ even then she would not waver, but would remain unshaken in her confidence that this blackness proceeded likewise from her Bridegroom, from her Sun.

i I am black.’ We have already seen the more obvious and general meaning of the Bride in these words. But perhaps this confession may likewise have its origin in a peculiar state of soul. The Christian experiences, in his communion with the Lord, days and hours in which, so to speak, and to all appearance he ceases to be a dark moon, and breaks forth and shines with all the radiance of the rising sun; in which with holy transport he soars as on the wings of a young eagle, and would even seek for the highest walls, in order to leap over them with his God. O happy state! How gladly would he then see himself surrounded by Antichrist, and all the powers of darkness, that he might testify, to their face, of Christ, and of the efficacy of his blood, and with him trample them under his feet; how joyfully would he then proclaim aloud from the house-tops, and in the streets, that Christ is Lord, to the glory of the Father! How sweetly the heart is then invigorated to the fulfillment of every command! With what intense love, with what ardent devotion, the soul is then inflamed. Faith is changed into sight; we not merely speak, but we prophesy and sing psalms; and the mouth becomes an inexhaustible spring of evangelical wisdom and consolation. We are ready to say with David, ‘Lord, thou hast made my mountain to stand fast; I shall never be moved:” and we already triumphantly exclaim, “the eternal hills are our possession.” But in the midst of all this exultation, our glory becomes suddenly obscured. The daughter of Zion, that had been exalted to heaven, is cast down to the earth again, and her lustre has passed away like a shadow. No sensible supplies of grace are experienced, no blissful emotions are felt, no alacrity of spirit elevates the soul. Prophesying has come to an end; our praises are languid; the law causes us again to labor and to be heavy laden: and, like a tree deprived of its leaves in autumn, all the splendor in which we had for a time been arrayed, to the joy and astonishment of our acquaintance has been stripped off, and not a vestige of its beauty remains. Then, again, we are black; and the daughters of Zion behold it, and compare our blackness and dimness with our former state of life. Those who are but partially enlightened, who are not yet able to estimate these dealings of the Lord, will view it as a melancholy relapse into our former state of nature — as a sudden separation from the Lord, and from his love. But Shulamite may say to them with confidence, Look not upon me because I am black: the Sun has looked upon me.’ Do not judge me by the present darkness of my appearance; be not deceived by the sudden barrenness, stlipidity, and exhaustion, which have come upon me; as though they were a sign that the union between me and my Sun had been dissolved. It is not the absence of the Sun, but his nearness and the fervidness of his beams, that has tinged me with so dark a shade, and rendered me so sterile and devoid of brightness. My Bridegroom has himself withdrawn from me that excess of spiritual excitement in which I revelled, that I might not be high-minded, but fear; that I might not forget my former state of sin and misery, and might learn to trust Him for his word alone, without seeing or tasting: therefore look not upon me, because I am black; and do not start and be confounded: believe me the sun has looked upon me, and our union is as firm as ever.’

There is one other way in which the Lord sometimes makes his people black. To promote their salvation, and their humility, he suffers the leprosy of sin still lurking in their breast, to break forth and to display itself outwardly, that they may not remain ignorant of its existence. On this point much might be said; but as there may be some amongst you who cannot yet bear it, and who might be led by it into lamentable errors, we will pass it over in silence, and turn from the contemplation of the Shulamite’s blackness, to admire her comeliness.

II. — ‘I am black,’ says the Bride * but comely.’ Black and comely at the same time? How contradictory! And yet the Shulamite may say with truth, The blacker I am in my own eyes, the fairer I am before Him. His love to us is in proportion to our self-knowledge, and to the consciousness of our sinfulness. Do we seriously complain to him of the burden of one sin, he welcomes our approach. Do we sigh before him, confessing that our transgressions are more in number than the sands upon the sea-shore, he views us with increased satisfaction. But do we reject all that we have and are, as vile and accursed, and appear before him stripped of all self-righteousness, then we are most pleasing in his siht. There is but one complaint he cannot bear — the complaint, that our sins are too great to be forgiven — for that is the suggestion of Satan, who seeks to close against us the fountain of Christ’s blood, and to derogate from its merits. He delights in the pardon of aggravated sins, and finds most pleasure in the cure of the severest wounds, and in the removal of the greatest afflictions; for thus his love and mercy are most conspicuously manifested, and the renewed soul becomes more closely, gratefully, and devotedly united to him. If the cry ascend to him, from a thorough conviction of our misery, that we are nothing, and can do nothing; oh, how willingly does he hear it! His hands hen unbound, the work is his alone — he has room to display his wonders, and opportunity to shew who he is, and of what he is capable. For this reason, the blacker we are in our estimation, the fairer we are before Him.

‘I am black, but comely.’ In what sense then, is she comely? Comely and beautiful, as the curtains of Solomon. Solomon’s curtains may have been costly and magnificent; but there is one curtain that surpasses every other in splendor and beauty. It was not fashioned by the hand of man, nor can it be imitated by man. It is the work of the Eternal King, who wrought it with many cries and tears. This curtain is the only one that is pure in the sight of Him before whom the heavens are not clean, and who chargeth his angels, with folly. In it he perceives no stain; and so wonderful is its efficacy, that if it were possible for Satan to wrap himself in it, even his blackness would be concealed from the searching eye of Omnipotence.. It was in this covering, that David, Mary Magdalene, the thief, and every other sinner, received the blessing of the Father, and have been raised above the stars in the firmament. And Abraham pleased God, for no other reason than because he was clothed with this golden mantle. What is this wonderful covering? It is the robe of salvation — the righteousness of our Surety, which is imputed to faith by grace. For if we are in Christ, sin has no more dominion over us, as the Spirit testifies. We are accounted as righteous before God, for Jesus’ sake, as fully as though we really were so, because he was. so for us — the curse and condemnation are removed, for they have been sustained by us in the person of our Surety and Substitute. And this garment of imputed righteousness is not circumscribed, nor inadequate to cover all our sins; neither is it of so thin and loose a texture, as not to conceal from the glance of the Almighty every stain and spot upon us. Praise and thanks to God! This garment will suffice in the day of judgement, and will as surely bring us to Jerusalem, as if Solomon himself were entering the city in it. Put on, then, this garment, and the blessing of the Father will descend upon you; and it shall be said of you also, ‘Cursed is he that curseth thee! Blessed is he that blesseth thee!’ Yes, the Shulamite is fair and comely — comely as the curtains of Solomon. She is arrayed in the golden vestments of the king himself — in Solomon’s princely apparel, in his robe of righteousness.

But within also, the king’s daughter, as David says? ip all glorious, notwithstanding her blackness; and she is not only comely, as the curtains of Solomon, but also as phe herself here tells us, as the tents of Kedar. The Kedarites were a pastoral people, living in the deserts of Arabia; and having no abiding place, they roved from pasture to pasture. They dwelt in light huts, or tents, some of which were made of black goat-skins, and others were made black by the scorching heat of un. Such are the Kedarites to whom the Shulamite compares herself. In the first place, because of her blackness; then, with reference to her position in the rays of the majestic Sun, and to her walk in the light of Jacob, and in the sight of the Lord. But by it her thoughts are chieily directed to the idea of ‘Christ in us;’ whilst, in the curtains of Solomon, her eye contemplates, moreover, ‘Christ for us.’

Shul ami te, a Kedar-tent, black in herself, worthless and unsightly, and burnt by the sun — deformed in her own eyes, in those of the world, and beset with misery; but fair, and lovely, and highly exalted — the dwelling of the great Shepherd, the glorious Morning Star, to which he has free ingress and engress — the place of his rest, the theatre of his miracles, where all his wonderful works are made manifest. Christ has taken possession of her, and extends that possession continually. The new man within her also sighs, longs, and struggles upwards — having fallen out with sin, and hating and abhorring it in every form — weeping and mourning over the weakness and corruption of the flesh, feeling himself forlorn, a stranger in the world, and finding no pleasure in its ways; but loving, praising, singing, and praying — behold this is the work of the Lord, fashioned in his’ own likeness, and without weariness. The Lord is ever busied within her, by his Spirit, strengthening and maturing this new creation — in mortifying, weakening, and destroying the old Adam. It is Christ, who inwardly chastens the Shulamite and consoles her; who cheers and strengthens her; who visits her with wholesome affliction, and imparts to her delightful peace, exactly as the case requires. May she not therefore pronounce herself a comely tabernacle, a habitation of the Lord, a tent which her Bridegroom delights to visit? Thus she stands there with the door wide open, imploring and sighing; and it may with truth be said of her, ( Behold a tabernacle of the Lord among men! O, Israel, where is there a people so glorious, to whom their gods are so near, as is the Lord our God and Savior to thee.’

( I am comely as the tents of Kedar:’ this comeliness consists, lastly, in her no longer following her own inclinations; but as the tents .of Kedar are borne by the shepherds, so is she borne by her King, removed and placed wherever it may please Him and His love. She is no longer her own, but her faithful Lord and Savior’s, both soul and body, in life and in death. She knows herself to be in his hands, in his bosom; and she willingly surrenders herself to his guidance, whether he may please to lead her into green pastures, or assign her a place in the desert. And like as the Kedarites wander with their tents, and pitch them sometimes in one place, and sometimes in another; she also is aware that slu- is a stranger in the world, and rejoices in the knowledge that she has here no abiding city, but seeks, with earnest longing, that which is to come, and contemplates the time with joyful hope, when her King shall entirely destroy her earthly tabernacle, and assigns her one all-glorious and beautiful. Yes, thou art black thou bride of the Lord; but we will not look upon thee because thou art black, for the Sun has made thee so. Thou art likewise fair and comely; comely as the curtains of Solomon, and as the tents of Kedar.

111. — Let us now attend to what the Bride has further to relate: * My mother’s children,’ she says, * were angry with me; they made me keeper of the vine-Nan Is; but my own vineyard have I not kept.’ By her mother’s children, she means the children of the kingdom, who journeyed with her on the same road, and participated with her in the same spiritual privileges; but whose walk in the light of Jacob had been of too short duration, and their experience in Divine things too limited, for them to conceive that a life in God could be a concealed one, full of godly activity, but devoid of all exterior splendor. A child of God in a state of dejection was to them as yet an incomprehensible mystery. Now it appears to me, that it may have been precisely such a state of apparent dejection and barrenness, in which they discovered the Shulamite to be. She, whom they had known as so highly a gifted, joyful witness to the truth; whose distinguished and effective course apparently resembled that of a prophetess; who had been as a light shining in a dark place, inexhaustibly rich in sententious wisdom, in awakening addresses, in feeling effusions and fervent prayers; who understood how to make all hearts overflow with living waters, to melt them into sacred emotions, and to hurry them from one fragrant eminence to another; — she, who had only lived for the brethren and their communion; who had hastened from assembly to assembly, there to pour forth her treasures; who had devoted all her energies to the kingdom of God, and from morning to evening, with the most flaming zeal, had thought of nothing but converting, edifying, strengthening, rousing, and comforting the brethren; and in the performance of all which she had been so conspicuous; — behold, how suddenly she is overcome! This overflowing spring, how suddenly is it exhausted; this rose, so recently blooming and redolent, how quickly has it lost its beauty and its fragrance. Behold, the Shulamite’s fire is extinguished, her zeal cooled, her sensibility dried up; her evangelizing spirit, how dead; her mouth closed; her carriage, how constrained, reserved, and unsocial! The sisters see it with sorrow; they are heartily grieved to have no further communion with their friend. Yes, they even behold it with indignation, for in this transformation they perceive nothing less than an entire relapse into a state of nature. Alas! to her own sisters she has become, not only a riddle but a vexation. Yet so far from having fallen away, or from having departed from the school of her Lord and Master, she has been elevated by him to a higher class in this school, where she shall learn to believe without seeing or tasting, and with Asaph to

desire nothing in the world but God: that though heart and flesh may fail, yet to rejoice and be in perfect peace — not as arising from any subordinate communications from the Lord, but because he is himself the strength of her heart, and her eternal portion. With these things her sisters were not then acquainted. Their inward light was too faint for them to perceive in the change that had passed on Shulamite, in her external sterility and blackness, the pure benevolent disciple of the Lord, the guidance of the most faithful of all shepherds. They imagined it to proceed from very different causes, and Shulamite could not please them: ‘My mother’s children were angry with me.’

And what would they now in their folly do with her? They would make her keeper of their vineyards; that is, they would attract her back to the scene of usefulness, activity, and tumult, in which they so greatly delighted: in their kind but blind zeal, they would have her re-assume their favorite form and aspect of Christian life, and thus interfere, uncalled, in the work of the Lord: and behold they succeeded, at least for a short time. The Shulamite yielded, and the Lord permitted it. They made me the keeper of the vineyards.’

The experience of the Shulamite has, in various ways, been that of many. Do you inquire how? Listen: Is a man a Christian, has he bid adieu to the world, and does he live to God? Is he enlightened, rich in experience, and by the brethren accounted faithful, sincere, active, and qualified; they at once begin to calculate how he may be made useful. He is asked to

preach in one place, in another to direct some society; business and labor are heaped upon him, and he is expected to undertake whatever is offered to his management. He submits; though it may often be more from a carnal than a sanctified spirit: for how can he refuse the brethren, particularly as their requests are confined to sacred things. His occupation begins and ends but with the day; he is so active, so clever, does every thing so well, that he is praised and encouraged from all sides, till it becomes his delight. Thus he is incessantly engaged in the work of the Lord. He preaches, exhorts, expounds the Scriptures to the brethren, prays with them, relates to them the passing events of the kingdom of God, superintends their societies, and does a thousand other things. That all this is good and praiseworthy in itself, who will deny? Yet, before he is aware, his own heart, with its wants, has been lost sight of; his secret, healthful intercourse with the Lord is interrupted, and the desire for it gradually extinguished; as if the soul had been satiated with this external employment: but when God in his mercy restores light to the mind of the believer, he is constrained to join in the complaint of the Shulamite: f They made me keeper of the vineyards; but my own vineyard have I not kept.’

But it is asked, was it in this way that Shulamite likewise forgot her vineyard 7 I answer No. She found herself in very different circumstances; and I will endeavor to describe them. The sun has burnt us, when we have lost the sensible tokens of God’s grace, and feel ourselves deprived of the consolation, peace. and hope which had been our confidence and rejoicing, and cast into a barren land. What the love of God designs by such seemingly hard dealings with his faithful people, is well known. Our associates mark the change; they are displeased that our glory has passed away, that our beauty is so faded. They are angry with us, and even apprehensive that we have fallen from grace. Our mortification is deep, we cannot bear! I ir suspicion; and consequently, strain every nerve to re-instate ourselves in our former condition. We again put ourselves forward, but the Lord has not called; we again attempt to prophesy, but the Spirit is not with us; we seek again to appear as one of the anointed, but our oil is consumed; we wish to warm others, but our own fire is extinguished. In short, instead of bowing before the Lord, and awaiting, in prayerful submission, the return of his pentecostal breathing, we try to sail with an adverse wind; we try the oars of our natural strength, and resolve to supply the deficiency of Divine inspiration from our own resources; to take again upon our own shoulders the work which Christ reserves for himself alone; and, instead of drawing water from the Rock that follows us, to force it from the barren sandy waste of our own nature. Our state is lamentable; we are separated from the Lord, and have strayed into, and lost ourselves in, a maze of presumptuous self-will and self-prescribed performances. And if the Lord again open our eyes, we must judge ourselves, and complain, in the language of the Bride, ‘They have made me keeper of the vineyards; but my own vineyard have I not kept.’ Instead of abiding in union with the Lord, enjoying his favor, and participating in the abundant fulness of his vineyard; — instead of remaining at the Fountain of life, and surrendering myself like a child to the guidance of Jesus, I have lost myself in the dark wilderness of self-prescribed duties, estranged from God.

Let us here conclude. My brethren, when after the Babylonish captivity the city of Jerusalem had been rebuilt, Nehemiah gave this command; c Let not the gates of Jerusalem be opened, until the sun is hot!’ This command is spiritually in force to this day. Jerusalem is opened to no one, till the Eternal Sun of the universe has shed his heat upon him; till he has become black in his own eyes. Oh that each one amongst us, who now accounts himself fair and beautiful, may soon, from a deep and thorough conviction of his misery, be able to declare with Shulamite, c I am black, 0 ye daughters of Jerusalem! Not .that he should then attempt to purify himself: the Ethiopian cannot change his skin, or the leopard his spots; but may .he experience the royal purifying power of Him who clothes all his children in white robes. May the Eternal King be with us all; may He encircles us in his golden mantle, and make us comely as the tents of Kedar. Amen.