Solomon's Song i. 7, 8

Tell me, O thou whom my soul loveth, where thoufeedest, where thou makest thy flock to rest at noon: for why should I be as one that turneth aside by the flocks of thy companions? If thou know not, O thou fairest among women, go thy way forth by the footsteps of the flock, and feed thy kids beside the shepherds’ tents.

THERE is scarcely any state of spiritual life that is not here and there described in the Song of Solomon, at least in the way of allusion. This little book is a true mirror of the heart of every child of God. The impure world, indeed, discovers in it only its own vile likeness. But is the stream to blame, that, when a Moor surveys himself in the pure and limped waters, an ugly black countenance is presented to his view? The fault lies not in the mirror, but in the face of the Moor; and were he on that account to censure the innocent stream, or, in imitation or a certain raging conqueror, to beat it with rods, would it not be absurd and unjust? Yet such is the procedure of unbelievers with the Song of Songs. But, let us not be turned aside thereby from this stream which flows from the rock of Zion, or suffer our pleasure therein to be corrupted. We drink water from it which springs up to everlasting life.

The text contains a conversation between Christ, the heavenly Bridegroom, and his Bride, the Church or the

soul of an individual believer. The sentiment breathed by the Shulamite, is that of longing for the coming of the Lord, and ardent desire to be near him. But the answer of Christ calms the longing soul, points out to it the way, and imparts wholesome advice. Many a soul amongst us is in the same state with Shulamite; many require the same refreshment. Let us therefore consider the words more fully, and reflect, I. On Shulamite’s state. II. On her address to the Lord.

III. On her question.

IV. On Christ’s counter-question.
V. On His advice.

I. — We are already acquainted with the state of Shulamite’s soul. She has herself, in the preceding words disburthened her heart, and discovered to us its inward aspect. * I am black,’ she complains, ‘O ye daughters of Jerusalem. Look not upon me because I am black, because the sun hath looked upon me.’ In the text she describes her appearance as that of noon-day — that is, she is exposed to the noon-day heat, when the sun has attained his greatest altitude, and shoots his scorching rays perpendicularly on the head. ‘Tell me,’ she exclaims, ’ where thou feedest, where thou makest thy flocks to rest at noon?’ The raptures of morning are past! For it is the morning in the soul, when it resembles a garden of spices, and the Spirit, like the south wind, blowing freshly through it, causes our fragrance to flow abroad; and we hear its sound, and percieve its influence. It is morning when the King himself draws nelar, and our spikenard sends forth its perfume; when our inward spiritual life assumes sensibility and feeling, and floods the soul like a fruitful vivifying water; when the presence of the Lord is powerfully experienced, the comfort of assurance blissfully enjoyed, the love of Christ ardently felt, and the powers of the world to come tasted in copious draughts. How delightful is morning! How pleasant the air! How mild and exhilarating the warmth of the sun! Then the valleys are filled with balsamic odours, and the plains are moistened by the early dew; then the vines breathe forth their fragrance, and the turtle is heard in the grove. It was morning in the life of Shulamite, when she exclaimed: ‘Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth: for thy love is better than wine. Thy name is an ointment poured forth; therefore the virgins love thee. Draw me, we will run after thee: the king brought me into his chambers; we will be glad and rejoice in thee.’ Yes, then the light of morning shone upon her head. What a happy state! To soar above the earth, like a young eagle; to be placed beyond the fear of death and hell; to be able joyfully to embrace all the brethren in Christ; to have a heart expansive as the ocean; to be also dear to all the brethren, and overflowing with streams of living water!

But the light in which we now meet the beloved Shulamite, is not that of morning; alas! all with her is changed. Her very appearance betrays it. Where is now the dear- sunshine, that once animated her countenance; and the eye, sparkling with joy, the lip breathing eloquence, the lofty enthusiasm, the intense love of her espousals, and her glowing testimony? What became of it all? Alas! they seem to have died away.

She resembles a flower that has lost both its scent and its enamel. Shulamite is afflicted a*nd cast down. What then has happened to her 1 Has she perhaps sustained a serious fall? Not exactly so. Then she is assailed by doubts, and asks with John, ‘Art thou he that should come V Not so. Then she has encountered severe temptations, and conflicts with Satan? No that is not the case. She says, it is noon in her soul. She reminds us of a hot, sultry, summer ’s-d ay; all nature droops; the flowers hang down their head; the grass is faded and dry; the beasts pant for breath, the birds are silent in the trees; dark clouds of dust obscure the roads, and all is dull weary and languid. And this she will say is her spiritual state. Oh, we understand her well; it is the state of barrenness, of insensibility, in which she finds herself; the state of spiritual nakedness and destitution, in which we ourselves perceive no trace of the new life, and of the gracious presence of the Lord; in which a difference between ourselves and the unregenerate is scarce discernible; in which we feel no love, no necessity of prayer, and we begin to waver, and to doubt whether we are in a state of grace, or no. This is the noon in which we find the Shulamite.

n. — Shulamite in her distress applies to the Lord; to him she will make known her grief. In this she does wisely. There is no helper besides Him; and even though we may be unable to pray, we should prostrate ourselves in silence before him, as if we would say, Behold our misery! It is vain to look elsewhere, this is the only well from which water can be obtained in time of drought. c Thou,’ she sighs, ’ whom my soul loveth!’ Thou! What a singular address! Why does she not acW his name? Ah, in her present state of mind she knows not what to call him. There are times, in which we know not how to address the Lord, except with a simple, Thou! Thou! and that is all. Thus we sometimes experience sudden abstractions of mind, like in the third heaven; moments of unequalled mental vision and communion with Jesus; when suddenly he, who is the fairest amongst the children of men, displays himself to our view in all his beauty, as though we saw him face to face; and all the bliss, that is eternal at his right hand, is imbibed into the soul, as with one draught. The entire greatness of his love, is unveiled to our view; the happiness of being reconciled by his blood, is felt in all its magnitude, and the delight of the heart exceeds all bounds. Then, indeed, one would gladly speak, and call him by name; but what name is sufficiently expressive to describe Him whom we behold and taste. His most glorious titles appear to us inadequate, and too mean for such a Lord. Absorbed in admiration and excess of bliss, a simple ( O Thou!’ is all we are able to utter. But there are other states of feeling in which wre know not by what title to address him. By what name shall we call upon him, when, as convicted sinners, we lie prostrate in the dust before his throne of grace, and cannot venture even to lift up our eyes. Shall we call him our Lord? Ah, we are rebels, and not servants. Shall we address him as Savior? How can we presume; what claims have we on his mercy? Or as our Mediator and Intercessor? Alas, for creatures so deeply fallen as we are, he will never intercede! All the sweet and endearing titles by which his children are permitted to address him, falter upon our tongues; and Thou! Thou! is all that our trembling lips can utter. And when in his mysterious dealings he has again deprived us of all that he had once vouchsafed to us — has withdrawn himself from our view, and surrounded himself with clouds and darkness, so that we no longer taste his grace, or enjoy his love, as was the case with Shulamite, — how shall we then call upon him? By what name address him? As a friend 1 We no longer recognize him as such. As a Bridegroom? Ah, the days of our espousals are past. As a Prince of peace 1 Where is his peace! As our guide? Alas, we wander forsaken. At such times we are tempted to ask with Manoah, ‘< What is thy name V And, Wonderful! is the only title by which we can address him! Sometimes even we appear to have lost all trace of him as a 4 Wonderful God;’ it seems as though he guided us no longer, or concerns himself no more about us. Then a sighing of c O Thou!’ is our only resource. Thus it was with our Shulamite. But the remainder of her address must cause us astonishment; * Thou,’ she says, * whom my soul loveth.’ How strange! We thought her love was at an end. Yes, that she herself also most firmly believes. But does she not say, ‘Thou whom my soul loveth V The words have indeed escaped her, but I believe she is not insensible of it. Ah! how frequently is this the lamentation of benighted and tempted souls. Their complaint is incessant, that there is no more love in their heart, no desire after the Lord, and yet, in contradiction to themselves, they continually exclaim, if not in words, yet most loudly

by their actions: ( Thou whom my soul loveth!’ Singular people! who do nothing else than run about from morning till night inquiring and seeking after Jesus, like sheep lost in the desert, bleating after their shepherd. How delighted would you be to find him again; and should any one advise you to abandon the search, “not for mines of gold, or royal diadems,” would be your answer; “no, ‘rather give up all than give up Christ.” And yet, you say, you have no love to him after whom you long: no, not the smallest!! How strange, how singular! thus to run after one in whom you have no interest; thus to lament his absence with so much affliction. O ye favored children! This afflicted look, this oppressed mien, this painful lamentation, “I have lost the Lord” — this seeking and longing — what is it but an expressive, ( Thou, Thou, whom my soul loveth.’ What is itj however its reflection may be concealed from yourselves, but a look of the purest love, which, be assured, still exists and works unseen in the deep recesses of the soul; which, in the children of God, can never be extinguished; which survives the bitterest temptations, the greatest spiritual desertions, and proclaims, under every change of circumstance, its existence and life, by manifold, though not unfrequentlyby very faint, manifestations. Yes, the lambs of Jesus always love him; and even when the lamentation escapes them, that they love him not, the tone in which the complaint is uttered, imparts to it an entirely different meaning; and a sensitive ear distinctly perceives in it the tender greeting, ‘Thou whom my soul loveth.’

Ill, — Having listened to the salutation of the afflicted Bride, let us now hear what it is she really desires, and what the nature of the inquiry she has addressed to the Lord. * Tell me,’ she says, ‘O Thou whom my soul loveth, where thou feedest, where thou makest thy flock to rest at noon; for why should I be as one that turneth aside by the flocks of thy companions V His companions are the ministers of his word, the preachers and prophets whom he has called; and it is a great honor, which Shulamite confers on them, when she calls them the companions of Christ! Elsewhere, we are termed messengers in Christ’s stead, and his fellow laborers. To what dignity are we here raised! Our hearts might well be oppressed, and force us to exclaim, “Lord God! send another, I am not fit to preach.” The flocks of these companions, are those who have believed through their word, their spiritual children. Amongst these Shulamite had wandered; but she had no desire to do so longer; what had it availed her? Nothing; no sermon, however beautiful, no devotional exercises, no exhortations of the brethren, had been able to make her depressed and withered heart again to blossom, or to re- assure her sinking soul. ‘Ah,’ she says, * suffer me no longer to wander in vain among the flocks of thy companions; but come to me thyself!’ But the words may likewise be rendered thus, * That I may no longer be amongst the flocks of thy companions, as one veiled’ — that is, as a widow. “Ah,” she will say,” while thy other children boast of the sweetness of thy presence, of the consolations they receive from thee, and of the frequency of thy visits; must I cast down my eyes in melancholy and silence; and be a barren tree amongst the fruitful, or as a sick lamb amongst the vigorous of the flock? No one derives benefit from me; I am to the brethren as one dead; I have lost my beloved; my friend has forsaken me; he cheers me no longer; I am solitary and disconsolate; and shall I not wear the veil of mourning? Such is the state in which Shulamite describes herself to be, and she prays the Lord to relieve her from it.

6 Tell me,’ she says, f where thou feedest, where thou makest thy flock to rest at noon.’ Yes, that is what she most desires to know. In the first place, where he is in circumstances like those in which she then found herself, where he really feedeth? But what is it you wish so much to know, beloved Shulamite? We do not understand your words. Do you inquire where he would then find food for himself? Oh, he would .find abundance in your heart, although you do not think so. This anxiety about him, this seeking and longing, this inquiry and running after your lost friend, he is well pleased to see; that is to him food, a delight, a sweet repast; even in the barren desert he can find food. But probably you wish to know what food he has provided for such poor miserable sheep as you have now become? Secret food, hidden pastures. He sustains them by an unseen energy, with a concealed faith, of which they are not sensible; and with a hope whose sweetness they have not tasted; but yet it is near them. He likewise sometimes feeds such afflicted lambs who know not whether they belong to the Shepherd or not, upon the field of their own early experience; he conducts them back in spirit to the period when they certainly experienced the kiss of his love, and when he made his covenant with them. With David they then remember their song in the night; and the recollection, in some degree, revives their courage. Or he points them, in. his word, to the promises which assure them that the bruised reed shall not be broken, or the smoking flax be quenched. In short j there is never any. want of food and spiritual nourishment for Christ’s sheep; no, not even when they, appear to wade in the sandy desert, where no vegetation regales the eye, where not a blade of grass presents itself to their longing appetites. e Tell me, the Shulamite asks -again, c where thou resteth at noon T That he rests — that she knows, that she feels. The sound of his footsteps she no longer hears, neither can she perceive any trace of his presence or his influence, either within or around her. Ah, beloved soul, if thou didst but know it, he rests quite ‘near to thee, in thy bark, in thy chamber; yes, even in thy heart ;- — though indeed thou perceivest him not. Now she has no rest till she -has again found him, till she again possesses him, and can say, * My beloved is mine, and I am his: he feedeth among the lilies.’ Without Him a oh! where can she be at peace, with all her sinfulness, her misery, her weakness and infirmity? No, she must have him again! She wanders from place to place; now she seeks him in the solitude of her closet, if peradventure she may find him there; now she looks for him amongst the assembled brethren, and asks, Is he here 1 Then she searches for him in books and spiritual songs, if by any means she may find him. All kinds of advisers come to her; “Oh!” they say, “be not so vehement; wait with patience, till the Lord shows himself again.” But she indignantly rejects such counsel. The matter is too urgent. She must seek him. Or, it is said, “Enjoy the beauties of nature, cheer yourself in pleasant society.” “Ah,” she replies, “I covet no rest, till I can enjoy it in the arms of Jesus.” Her dejection increases, and she knows no other resource than to call upon him, f Tell me, thou whom my soul loveth, where thou feedest, where thou makest thy flocks to rest at noon V

W. — Thus she inquires, thus she laments. At length she obtains an answer. The Bridegroom replies to her with another question; and he asks, ‘Dost thou not know, O thou fairest among women V In what a delightful sense those words may be understood! A child in its distress flies to its mother for consolation; she listens to its complaints, and laughs away its tears. In this sense must we understand the reply of Christ. Shulamite stands mourning and distressed before him; she thinks herself black, and that she no longer belongs to the fold. The Lord laughs at her complaint, and seems to say, “Yes, thou hast really cause to be dejected about thy soul!” “Shulamite,” hast thou then forgotten? Dost thou really not know, O thou fairest among women 1 Thou who art arrayed with the glory of the Sun, who hast been made partaker of my nature, who art adorned with my righteousness, the righteousness of God; wilt thou hang down thy head as a bulrush? O thou fairest among women! be sensible of thy glory; for know I have invested thee with my own; and in truth no angel is so beautiful as thou art. This is the meaning of the words employed by Jesus. How often might they be repeated! How often do we meet with souls like Shulamite, whose very appearance says, ‘. Do not look upon me, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, I am altogether too black.’ They will perceive nothing of the Divine nature in themselves; they deem themselves at a great distance, and rather number all others among the children of God, than themselves. Yet in all they say and do the seal of the Lamb that they bear upon them is visible: their sighs, their patience, their hunger and thirst, their love, all make it convincingly evident that they are the children of God, and are clothed with the righteousness of Christ, or that none are. And still they persist in believing that all with them is a delusion; and though we address them in the words of Christ, ’ 0 thou fairest among women, dost thou really not know thyself T What does it avail that we speak? They usually do not believe us.

V. — But yet Shulamite is again to be comforted, and to obtain peace. To this end the Lord gives her, in the first instance, the good advice to go forth. To go forth! And from whence? To go forth from herself. Undoubtedly much of our spiritual dejection arises chiefly from our thoughts being too constantly turned within ourselves, busied in the contemplation of our own frailty and misery. We ought, indeed, to watch over our hearts, and daily and hourly to be mindful of our wretchedness, misery, and sin; but we ought likewise to look out of ourselves. Many are as completely absorbed in the thoughts of their own misery, as if there were nothing else to be considered; as if no cross had been erected, and no blood had flowed from it, to wash away sin. They view their depravity, as if unatoned for on Golgotha, as if there had been no Son of God to pay all our debts to the uttermost farthing; as if through Christ no paternal heart had been opened in heaven; and as if there were no such thing as free grace to justify the sinner, requiring nothing,. but bestowing all. What can possibly arise from so partial a consideration of our state but dejection and anguish. Go forth, thou afflicted soul, from the gloomy melancholy corner of thy poor heart. Go forth to the pleasure garden of Gethsemane; visit Gabbatha, and the accursed tree of Golgotha: .view the wedding garment, the glory that is there prepared, and’ which Eternal Love presents to every longing sinner, let his inward state be ever so wretched. Such sights and contemplations, in spite of the dreary state of thy soul, will revive” thy courage. Go forth also from thy great pretensions. Thy desires are too vast; thou requirest greater things than have been promised to the children of God in this world. Thou wouldst taste and see;. but this is the time of faith, away, away, with such pretensions. Dost thou desire the sweets and pleasures of heaven? Rejoice, O sinner, if thou hast grace;, and let grace suffice thee. Thou wouldst wish the Lord to lead thee in the way which thou thyself prescribest. Go forth from these wishes! Offer them as a sacrifice. Go forth from thy own will, and enter quietly and confidingly into the will of God! Let him do with thee what he pleaseth; or wilt thou be his counseller? Let Him- pro vide for thee, and thou wilt do well. All this the. Lord requires, when he commands ’ to go forth.’

Let us now inquire what further counsel the Lord gives her! ‘Go forth,’ he says, by the footsteps of the flock.’ The tendency of this advice likewise is to restore peace to the dejected Shulamite. In the first place, it contains a serious reproof, similar to that which was given to Peter; when not altogether satisfied with the career marked out for him by the Lord, he pointed to John, to whom so rough a course was not assigned, and presumed to ask, And what shall this man do?’ To which the Lord replied, * What is that to thee 1 follow thou me.’ He says the same to Shulamite, in the words, Go forth by the footsteps of the flock. Observe the sheep; they do not wander where they please, but they quietly and silently follow their shepherd. Do thou likewise, my beloved Shulamite. Consider what happens when one of the lambs goes a little astray from the fold, how the Shepherd employs every means to restore it. Somewhat similar is the way that I deal with my sheep.’ This is what the Bridegroom will in the first place intimate to her. But at the same time he will point out the way in which she may again obtain consolation. * Yes,’ lie will say, ‘I perceive clearly that thou no longer knowest thyself, O thou fairest among women. Thou art a child of God; but thou belie vest it not, and art a stranger to thyself. Thou art lxprn again; but thou art no longer sensible of it Thou art clothed with my righteousness, and hast every reason to be joyful; but thou canst not believe it. And why not? Because thou feelest thyself barren, and thy spiritual life is not in a flourishing state. But that is no ground for despair. Go forth by the footsteps of the flock.’ And Shulamite would certainly have done so. But what are we to understand that she has done? She has observed other children of God, has considered the ways of the saints; and what has she there discovered? That she is no solitary bird upon the housetop; and that her experience has nothing peculiar, or unusual. Where did she find the footsteps of the saints ‘? Alas! not always on verdant. and luxuriant pastures, but most frequently on rugged paths and obscure cross-roads, in barren deserts and dreary wastes. The most favored servants of God she has heard complain; i Ah! my tongue cleaveth to the roof of my mouth-; my strength is dried up like a potsherd!’ The most holy she has seen prostrate in the dust, groaning and complaining.

And yet, miserable, as they were, the Lord was with them; they were still the people after God’s own heart, the apple of his eye, his peculiar care. But in due time they had again their hours of refreshment; and showers of rain descended upon the parched and withered meadows; and at length, after all the difficulties upon earth, their footsteps still shone above the clouds, among the stars of heaven; they took their place in the midst of Paradise, and appeared among the holy angels, before the throne of glory. Such was the discovery made by the beloved Shulamite. O how encouraging and consoling was it to her,. to find that all who had reached Canaan had traversed the same path on which she then was. She could then again believe that the Lord was with her; that he guided and sustained her, and that her path also would terminate in glory. Thus she thought she had her Bridegroom again; she would again believe that He still holds her by His right hand, though in darkness; and her going forth by the footsteps of the flock had been blessed and consoling to her.

0 ye that are dejected and disconsolate, who, like Shulamite, are languishing in the heat of mid-day, follow her example. Turn your gaze and your reflections away from your own hearts, and from your own misery. .Go forth to the ocean of mercy and love which flows on Golgotha; the sight will produce an immediate change, and inspire you with other and more agreeable meditations. Then go forth by the footsteps of the flock, and learn that you tread the same path that the most distinguished saints have trod before you. This will support you; it will revive your courage and renew your hope. Then feed your kids and your young lambs beside the shepherds’ tents. The Bride is here compared to a shepherdess with a flock of hungry lambs. Her heart hungers, her spirit hungers, her understanding hungers, to comprehend the darkness that surrounds her; her soul to be assured of the presence of the Lord; her weak faith hungers after strength, her glimmering hope after food, and her expiring love to be revived. O all ye weary souls, go ye likewise forth; and feed the kids beside the shepherds’ tents. The shepherds are the men of God, who have spoken by the Holy Ghost, the ancient Fathers and Prophets, the Evangelists and Apostles; and where they speak, instruct and console; in their revelations, in their sermons, in their histories, and in their epistles; there behold their tents, and the most luxuriant pastures. There learn that God is faithful; that he ever views his people with complacency; and that, even when they have left their first love, he recollects with delight the love of their espousals, and their first surrender of themselves to him. There learn that the entire foundation of your hope is not to be found within but without yourselves That will strengthen your heart and enable you to wait patiently till it please him again to pour down upon you his quickening grace. Rouse, then, thy afflicted senses! Know thyself again, O Shulamite, thou fairest among women, adorned with purple and jewels. Wait but a little, and thy feet, after all thy doubts and fears, will also tread the golden streets of the heavenly Jerusalem, in the land of rest, and of an eternal sabbath. O sweet termination of all complaints and sorrows! The Spirit and the Bride say, Come! And let him who heareth say, Come. And the Bridegroom saith, * I come quickly. Yes, even so come, Lord Jesus!’ Amen.