The First Homily
[In the following allegorical interpretation and explanation of its "mysteries," St. Gregory advises that the Song of Songs is a literary embodiment of the purity and chastity of Christian love. This essay is believed to have been written toward the end of the fourth century]
Those of you who, according to the advice of St. Paul, have stripped off the old man with his deeds and desires as you would a filthy garment and have wrapped yourselves by the purity of your lives in the bright garments of the Lord which he displayed upon the mount of transfiguration; you who have put on the Lord Jesus Christ with his holy robe and have been transformed with him into a state which is free from passion and more divine, listen to the mysteries of the Song of Songs. Enter the inner chamber of the chaste bridegroom and clothe yourselves with the white garments of pure, chaste thoughts. Let no one bring passionate, fleshly thoughts or a garment of conscience unsuitable for the divine nuptials. Let no one be bound up in his own thoughts, or drag the pure words of the bridegroom and the bride down into earthly, irrational passions. Anyone who entertains such shameful illusions should be cast out from the company of those who share the nuptial joys to the place of weeping (Mt 22.10-13). I issue this warning before entering upon the mystical contemplation of the Song of Songs. Through the words of the Song the soul is escorted to an incorporeal, spiritual, and pure union with God. For God, who "wishes all to be saved and to come to the recognition of the truth" (I Tim 2.4), shows the most perfect and blessed way of salvation here—I mean the way of love. For some there is salvation by fear: we contemplate the threat of punishment in hell and so avoid evil. Further, there are those who, because of the hope of the reward held out for a life piously lived, conduct themselves virtuously. They do not possess the good out of love but by the expectation of a recompense. On the other hand, the person who is hastening to spiritual perfection rejects fear. (Such a disposition is servile, and the person with this disposition does not remain with the master out of love. He does not run away out of fear of being scourged.) Rather, the person seeking perfection disdains even rewards: he does not want to give the impression that he prefers the gift to the one who bestows it. He loves "with his whole heart and soul and strength" (Dt 6.5), not any of the things that come from God, but him who is the source of all good things. This, then, is the attitude which he commands to the souls of all who listen to him, for he summons to us to share his own life.
The one who establishes this law is Solomon (3 Kg or I Kg 3.12; 5.9-14). According to the divine testimony, his wisdom has no measure. It has no comparison with respect to both all who proceeded him and all who are to come after him. Nothing escapes his notice. Do not suppose that I mean the same Solomon from Bersabee who offered upon the mountains the sacrifice of a thousand victims (3 Kg or I Kg: 11.6-8), who sinned by following the counsel of a Sidonian woman (3 Kg or I Kg 11.1-2). No, another Solomon [Christ] is signified here: one who is also descended from the seed of David according to the flesh, one whose name means peace, the true king of Israel and builder of God's temple. This other Solomon comprehends the knowledge of all things. His wisdom is infinite and his very essence is wisdom, truth, as well as every exalted, divine name and thought. [Christ] used Solomon as an instrument and speaks to us through his voice first in Proverbs and then in Ecclesiastes. After these two books he speaks in the philosophy set forth in the Song of Songs and shows us the ascent to perfection in an orderly fashion.
Not all periods of life according to the flesh are capable of every natural operation; nor do our lives advance in the same way at different periods. (The infant has no share of adult activities, nor is an adult taken up in its nurse's arms, but each time of life has its own proper activity.) So too one can see in the soul an analogy to the body's growth where there is a certain order and sequence leading to a life in accord with virtue.
For this reason, Proverbs teaches in one way and Ecclesiastes in another; the philosophy of the Song of Songs transcends both by its loftier teaching. The instruction in Proverbs provides words fit for the person who is still young, adapting its words of admonition to that period of life. "Hear, my son, your father's instruction and reject not your mother's teaching" (Pr 1.8). You see here that the soul is at a stage of life where it is tender and easily formed. Moreover, it still needs maternal instruction and paternal admonition. In order that the infant may listen more willingly to his parents and be more careful in his lessons, he is promised childish trinkets. Such trinkets are the gold chain shining around his neck and the crown entwined with pretty flowers. It is necessary to understand these things fully if the symbol's intent is to point to something better. Thus Proverbs begins the description of wisdom to the child in several different ways and expounds the ineffable beauty so as not to inspire any fear or constraint; rather, it draws the child by yearning and desire to participate in the good. The description of beauty somehow attracts the desire of the young to what is shown, fanning their desire for a participation in beauty.
In order that our affections may be further intensified after having changed our material inclinations to an immaterial state, Solomon adorns the beauty of wisdom with praise. Not only does he present its loveliness with words, but he also states the wealth contained in wisdom, whose Lord will surely dwell with us. The wealth is then seen in the showy adornments of wisdom. The adornment of her right hand is all the ages, since the Word says: "Length of existence and years of life are in her right hand" (Pr 3.16). And on her left hand she wears the precious wealth of the virtues together with the splendor of glory; "And on her left hand are wealth and glory" (3.16). Then Solomon speaks of the fragrance from the bride's mouth which breathes the good odor of righteousness: "From her mouth comes forth righteousness" (3.16).
In place of the natural redness of the bride's lips, he says, law and mercy blossom. In order that beauty might be fully attributed to such a bride, her gait is also praised: "In the paths of righteousness she walks" (8.20). In praising her beauty, Solomon also praises her great size which equals that of a flourishing plant shooting up into full bloom. This plant to which her height is compared, he says, is the tree of life which nourishes those who lay hold of her, a firm and stable column to those who lean upon her. I think that both examples refer to the Lord: He is our life and support. Thus the text reads: "She is a tree of life to those who lay hold of her" and for those who lean upon her as upon the Lord she is firm. Strength is included along with the remaining praises, that the praise of wisdom's beauty might be completely filled with all good things. "For God founded the earth by wisdom and prepared the heavens by prudence" (Pr 3.19). All the elements in creation Solomon attributes to the power of wisdom and adorns her with many names, for he means the same thing by wisdom, prudence, sense perception, knowledge, apprehension, and the like.
Solomon next escorts the youth to a special dwelling and exhorts him to gaze at the divine bridal chamber. "Do not let her go, and she will cleave to you. Love her and she will guard you. Secure her and she will exult you. Honor her in order that she may embrace you, that she may give to your head a crown of graces, and may cover you with a crown of delight" (Pr 4.6-9). The youth now adorned with these nuptial crowns as a bridegroom is exhorted not to depart from wisdom: "Whenever you walk, bring her and let her be with you. Whenever you sleep, let her guard you in order that when you wake she may converse with you" (6.22). With these and other such exhortations Solomon has inflamed the desire of the one still young according to the inner man, and has shown Wisdom describing herself. In this way Solomon elicits the love of those listening to him. Besides this, Wisdom says: "I love those who love me" (8.17)—for the hope of being loved in return disposes the lover to a more intense desire. Along with these words Solomon added other counsels by clear and easily grasped utterances. He leads the youth to a more perfect state in the final verses of Proverbs where he calls "blessed" the union of love in that section pertaining to the praises of the brave woman. Then Solomon adds the philosophy contained in Ecclesiastes for the person who has been sufficiently introduced by proverbial training to desire virtue. After having reproached in that book men's attitudes towards external appearances, and after having said that everything unstable is vain and passing ("everything which passes is vanity" [Ec 11.8]). Solomon elevates above everything grasped by sense the loving movement of our soul towards invisible beauty. Having thus cleansed the heart with respect to external matters, Solomon then initiates the soul into the divine sanctuary by means of the Song of Songs. What is described there is a marriage; but what is understood is the union of the human soul with God.
Because of this, the son in Proverbs is named a bride, and Wisdom is changed into the role of a bridegroom so that a person might be espoused to God by becoming a pure virgin instead of a bridegroom. By clinging to the Lord he might become one spirit (I Cor 6.17) through a union with what is pure and free from passion and have a pure mind instead of burdened with the flesh's weight (Dt 6.5). Since it is Wisdom speaking, love as much as you can with your whole heart and strength; desire as much as you can. I boldly add to these words: "Be passionate about it." This affection for incorporeal things is beyond reproach and free from lust as wisdom states in Proverbs when she prescribes passionate love … for the divine beauty.
But the text now before us gives the same exhortation. It does not merely offer advice regarding love, but through ineffable mysteries it philosophizes and offers an image of the pleasures of life as a preparation for its instruction. The image is one of marriage where the desire for beauty acts as intermediary. The bridegroom does not initiate the desire according to normal human custom, but the virgin anticipates the bridegroom without shame, openly makes her passion known, and prays that she may enjoy the bridegroom's kiss.
Those attending the betrothed virgin are the patriarchs, prophets, and givers of the Law. They bring divine gifts to the bride, her wedding gifts, as it were. (Some examples of these gifts are forgiveness of trespasses, forgetfulness of evil deeds, the cleansing of sins, transformation of nature, the exchange of corruptibility for incorruptibility, enjoyment of paradise, the dignity of God's kingdom, and joy without end.) When the virgin receives all these divine gifts from the noble bearers who bring them through their prophetic teaching, she both confesses her desire and hastens to enjoy the favor of the beauty of the One she so eagerly desires. The virgin's attendants and associates hear her and spur her on to an even greater desire. The bridegroom then arrives leading a chorus of his friends and well-wishers. These represent either the ministering spirits by whom men are saved or the holy prophets. Hearing the bride's voice, they exult and rejoice (Jn 3.29) at the consummation of the pure union by which the soul that clings to the Lord becomes one Spirit with Him, as the Apostle says (I Cor 6.17).
I will take up again what I said at the start of this homily: let no one who is passionate, fleshly and still smelling of the foul odor of the old man (2 Cor 2.16) drag down the significance of the divine thoughts and words to beastly, irrational thoughts. Rather, let each person go out of himself and out of the material world. Let him ascend into paradise through detachment, having become like God through purity. Then let him enter into the inner sanctuary of the mysteries revealed in this book (the Song of Songs). If the soul is unprepared to hear this, let it listen to Moses who forbids us to ascend the spiritual mountain before washing the garments of our hearts and before purifying our souls with the fitting aspersions of our thoughts. As we apply ourselves to this contemplation, we must put aside thoughts of marriage as Moses commanded (Ex 19.15) when he ordered those being initiated to cleanse themselves from marriage. We must follow his prescriptions when we are about to approach the spiritual mountain of the knowledge of God: thoughts about women, along with material goods, are left with the life below. If any irrational notion should be seen around this mountain, it is destroyed with firmer thoughts as by stones. Otherwise, we would hardly be able to hear the sound of that trumphet reverberating with a great and awesome sound which is beyond the capacity of those who hear it. This sound comes from the dark obscurity where God is and who burns with fire every material thing upon this mountain.
Now let us enter the Holy of Holies, Song of Songs. In the expression "Holy of Holies" we are taught a certain superabundance and exaggeration of holiness. Through the title Song of Songs the noble text also promises to teach us the mystery of mysteries. To be sure, there are many songs in the divinely inspired teaching by which we acquire great knowledge about God from David, Isaiah, Moses, and many others. However, we learn from the title Song of Songs that just as the songs of the saints surpass the wisdom of profane songs, so does the mystery contained here surpass the songs of the saints. Indeed, human understanding left to its own resources could neither discover nor absorb the Song's mystery. The most acute physical pleasure (I mean erotic passion) is used as a symbol in the exposition of this doctrine on love. It teaches us of the need for the soul to reach out to the divine nature's invisible beauty and to love it as much as the body is inclined to love what is akin to itself. The soul must transform passion into passionlessness so that when every corporeal affection has been quenched, our mind may seethe with passion for the spirit alone and be warmed by that fire which the Lord came to cast upon the earth (Lk 12.49).
I have said enough about how those who hear these mystical words should have their souls disposed. Now the time has come to begin our interpretation of the divine words of the Song of Songs. First let us consider the significance of the title. It is not accidental, I think, that the book is ascribed to Solomon. This serves as an indication to readers to expect something great and divine. Solomon's reputation for wisdom is unexcelled, and everyone is impressed by it. Therefore, the mention of his name at the outset raises the reader's expectation to find something great and worthy of such a reputation.
In the art of painting different colors combine to represent the subject portrayed. However, the person looking at the image created by the skillful use of colors does not linger over the colors painted on the tablet; he beholds instead only the form which the artist has shown. Thus it is with the present scripture: we should not look at the material of the colors [i.e. the words]; rather, we should consider the image of the king expressed by them in the chaste concepts. For white, yellow, black, red, blue, or any other color, are these words in their obvious meanings—mouth, kiss, myrrh, wire, bodily limbs, bed, maidens, and so forth. The form constituted by these terms is blessedness, detachment, union with God, alienation from evil, and likeness to what is truly beautiful and good. These concepts testify that Solomon's wisdom surpassed the boundaries of human wisdom. What could be more paradoxical than to make nature purify itself of its own passions and teach detachment … in words normally suggesting passion … ? Solomon does not speak of the necessity of being outside of the flesh's impulses or of mortifying our bodily limbs on earth, or of cleansing our mouths of talk of passion; rather, he disposes the soul to be attentive to purity through words which seem to indicate the complete opposite, and he indicates a pure meaning through the use of sensuous language.
The text should teach us one thing by its introductory words: those introduced into the hidden mysteries of this book are no longer men, but they have been transformed in their nature through the Lord's teaching into something more divine. The Word testified to his disciples that they were more than men. He differentiated them from other men when he said to them: "Who do men say that I am" (Mk 8.27)? The Song's text readily employs words whose obvious meaning indicates the enjoyment of carnal passion. Yet it does not fall into any improper meaning but leads us to the philosophy of divine things by means of chaste concepts. It shows that we are no longer to be men with a nature of flesh and blood; rather, it points to the life we hope for at the resurrection of the saints, an angelic life free from all passion.
After the resurrection, the body which has been transformed into incorruptibility, will again be joined to the soul. The passions now disturbing us because of the flesh will not be restored with those bodies; rather, we shall become tranquil. No longer will the flesh's prudence dispute with the soul. No longer will there be civil war with the passions set against the mind's law, where the soul is overcome and taken captive by sin. Nature will then be cleansed from all such things, and one spirit will be in both. (I mean both in the flesh and in the spirit), and every corporeal disposition will be banished from human nature. Thus the text of the Song exhorts us, even if we now live in the flesh, not to turn to it in our thoughts; rather we should only regard the soul and attribute all manifestations of affection in the text to the surpassing goodness of God as pure, undefiled offerings. For God alone is truly sweet, desirable and worthy of love. The present enjoyment of God is the starting point for a greater share of his goodness, and it increases our desire for him. Thus, in Moses (Ex 33.11) the bride loved the bridegroom. As the virgin says in the Song: "Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth." Moses conversed with God face to face, as scripture testifies (Dt 34.10), and he thereby acquired a still greater desire for these kisses after the theophanies. He sought God as if he had never seen him. So it is with all others in whom the desire for God is deeply embedded: they never cease to desire, but every enjoyment of God they turn into the kindling of a still more intense desire.
Even now the soul united to God never has its fill of enjoyment. The more it enjoys his beauty, the more its desire for him increases. The words of the bridegroom are spirit and life (Jn 5.24), and everyone who clings to the Spirit becomes spirit. He who attaches himself to life passes from death into life as the Lord has said. Thus the virginal soul desires to draw near to the fountain of spiritual life. The fountain is the bridegroom's mouth from which the words of eternal life well forth. It fills the mouth drawn to it, just as with the prophet when he drew in the spirit through his mouth (Ps 118.131). Since it is necessary for the person drawing water from a fountain to apply his mouth to his mouth, and since the Lord himself is a fountain as he says: "If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink" (Jn 7.37), so the thirsting soul wishes to bring its mouth to the mouth that springs up with life and says: "Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth" (1-2). He who wells up with life for all and wishes all to be saved desires every person to share this kiss, for this kiss purges away all filth.
It seems to me that the Lord was reproaching Simon the Leper when he said: "You gave me no kiss" (Lk 7.45). He meant by this: you would have been cleansed of disease if you had drawn purity with your mouth. But in all likelihood Simon was unworthy of love since he had an excess growth of flesh through his illness and remained unmoved in desire for God by reason of his disease. But once the soul has been cleansed and is no longer hindered by the leprosy of the flesh, it looks to the treasure house of all good things. A name for this treasure house is the heart. From it there comes to the breasts the wealth of divine milk by which the soul is nourished and draws grace in proportion to its faith. Therefore the soul exclaims: "Your breasts are better than wine," signifying by the breasts the heart. Nobody will err if he understands by the heart the hidden, secret power of God. One would rightly suppose that the breasts are the activities of God's power for us by which he nourishes each one's life and bestows appropriate nourishment.
We are indirectly taught another lesson through the philosophy of this book, namely that perception within us is two-fold—bodily and divine. As the Word says in Proverbs, "You will find perception of God" (Pr 2.5). A certain analogy exists between the activities of the soul and the sense organs of the body. This we learn from the present text. Wine and milk are distinguished by taste, while the intellectual and apprehending capacity of the soul grasps spiritual realities. A kiss is effected through the sense of touch; the lips of two persons make contact in a kiss. On the other hand, there is a certain sense of touch in the soul which takes hold of the Word and works in an incorporeal, spiritual way. As John says: "Our hands have handled the word of life" (I Jn 1.1). Similarly; the scent of the divine perfumes is not perceived by the nose, but by a certain spiritual and immaterial power drawing in the good odor of Christ by an inhalation of the Spirit. Thus, the next part of the virgin's prayer in the Song's first words says: "Your breasts are better than wine, and the scent of your perfumes is beyond all ointments" (1.1-2).
What is signified by these words is, in our opinion, neither trivial nor unimportant. Through the comparison of milk from the divine breasts with the enjoyment obtained from wine we learn, I think, that all human wisdom, science, power of observation and comprehension of imagination cannot match the simple nourishment of the divine teaching. Milk, the food of infants, comes from the breasts. On the other hand, wine, with its strength and warming capacity, is enjoyment for the more perfect. However, the perfection of the wisdom of the world is less than the childlike teaching of the divine world. Hence the divine breasts are better than human wine, and the scent of divine perfumes is lovelier than any fragrance.
The meaning seems to me to be as follows: We understand the perfumes as virtues—wisdom, justice, temperance, fortitude, and so forth. If we anoint ourselves with these aromas, each of us, according to our own capacity and choice, has a good odor. Each of us has his respective odor—one has wisdom or temperance, another has fortitude or justice, or anything else pertaining to virtue. Another person may have a good odor within himself compounded from all these perfumes. However, all of them together could not compare with that perfect virtue which the heavens contain. As the prophet Habakkuk says: "His virtue covered the heavens" (3.3). This is God's absolute wisdom, justice, truth, and all the rest. Therefore, the odor of the heavenly ointments, he says, holds a delight which is incomparable to any aroma known by us.
In what immediately follows, the soul-spouse again touches on a more sublime philosophy and shows that the divine power is both utterly transcendent and unable to be contained by human conceptions. The text says: "Your name is ointment poured forth" (1.3). To me something like the following is signified through this verse: the unlimited [divine] nature cannot be accurately contained by a name; rather, every capacity for concepts and every form of words and names, even if they seem to contain something great and befitting God's glory, are unable to grasp his reality. But starting from certain traces and sparks, as it were, our words aim at the unknown, and from what we can grasp we make conjectures by a kind of analogy about the ungraspable. Whatever name we may adopt to signify the perfume of divinity, it is not the perfume itself which we signify by our expressions; rather, we reveal just the slightest trace of the divine odor by means of our theological terms. As in the case of jars from which perfume has been poured out, the perfume's own nature is not known. But from the slight traces left from the vapors in the jar we get some idea about the perfume that has been emptied out. Hence we learn that the perfume of divinity, whatever it is in its essence, transcends every name and thought. However, the wonders visible in the universe give material for the theological terms by which we call God wise, powerful, good, holy, blessed, eternal, judge, savior, and so forth. All these give some small indication of the divine perfume's quality. Creation retains the traces of this divine perfume through its visible wonders as in the example of a perfume jar. "Therefore, the young maidens have loved you and have drawn you" (1.3). The bridegroom states here the cause of their noble yearning and loving disposition. Who can help but love such a beauty provided that he has an eye capable of reaching out to its loveliness? The beauty grasped is great; but infinitely greater is the beauty of which we get a glimpse from the appearances.
Passion does not touch those who are still infants, for an infant is incapable of passion; neither is it a problem for those in extreme old age. So too with regard to the divine beauty: both the person who is still an infant tossed about by every wind of doctrine and the aged person approaching death are incapable of desire. The invisible beauty does not touch such people, but only the soul which has passed the state of infancy and has attained the flower of spiritual maturity. Such a soul the text calls young (1.3); it has no spot or wrinkle or the like; it is neither lacking in perception because of infancy nor enfeebled by old age. This soul obeys the greatest and first commandment of the Law—to love that divine beauty with all its heart and strength (Dt 6.5). The human mind is unable to find any description, example, or adequate expression of that beauty.
Therefore, such maidens have grown through their virtues and at the proper time have entered the bridal chamber of the divine mysteries. Now they love the bridegroom's beauty, and through love they draw him to themselves. For he is a bridegroom who repays the desire of those who love and says in the person of Wisdom "I love those who love me," and "I will give substance to those who love me." (The bridegroom himself is this substance.) "And I will fill their treasuries with good things" (Pr 8.17, 21). The souls, therefore, draw to themselves a desire for their immortal bridegroom and follow the Lord God, as it is written (Hos 11.10). The cause of their love is the scent of the perfume to which they eternally run; they stretch out to what is in front, forgetting what is behind. "We shall run after you toward the scent of your perfumes" (1.4).
Those who are not yet perfect in virtue and who are still young promise to run towards the goal which the scent of perfumes represents. For they say, "We shall run toward the scent of your perfumes." But the more perfect soul, having stretched forward more earnestly, has already obtained the goal for which the course is undertaken, and it is worthy of the treasures in the storehouse. For she says: "The king has brought me into his chamber" (1.4). She desired to touch the good with the very tip of her lips and touched the beauty only as much as the power of her prayer could reach. (She prayed [1.2] to become worthy of a kiss through the illumination of the Word.) Now, through what she has already achieved, she has passed to a more interior part of the mysteries with her mind, and she cries out that her passage has brought her only to the vestibule of goodness. By the first fruits of the Spirit of which she was made worthy by the kiss of her spouse she says that she searches the depths of God within the innermost sanctuary of paradise, and, as the great Paul said, sees things unseen and hears words not to be spoken (2 Cor 12.4).
The discourse now reveals an ecclesiastical concern, for those who were first instructed by grace and who became eyewitnesses of the Word did not keep the good just for themselves. They passed on the same grace to those who came after them. Because of this the maidens say to the bride who was the first to be filled with good things by coming face to face with the Word and who was made worthy of the hidden mysteries: "Let us rejoice and be glad in you" (1.4) for your joy is our common rejoicing. Because you love the Word's breasts more than wine, we shall imitate you and love your breasts more than human wine, for through them you feed those who are infants in Christ.
To make the intention of the passage even clearer, consider the following: John, who reclined upon the Lord's chest, loved the Word's breasts (Jn 13.25); and having placed his heart like a sponge, as it were, beside the fountain of life, he was filled by an ineffable transmission of the mysteries hidden in the heart of the Lord. John offers us the teat filled by the Word and fills us with the good things he got from the fountain of goodness, loudly proclaiming the Word who exists eternally. Thus we may now rightly say, "We will love your breasts more than wine," if we have become like the maidens and are no longer infants in mind, yoked to an infantile kind of vanity, and if we are not soiled through sin in an old age unto death. Therefore, let us love the flow of your teaching, for "righteousness has loved you" (1.4). This is the disciple whom Jesus loved, and Jesus is righteousness. The text applies a more beautiful and fitting name to the Lord than the prophet David did, for David says that "The Lord is righteous" (Ps 91.15). This text, however, calls him righteousness. Whatever is crooked he makes straight. May all our crookedness be made straight and all our roughness, smooth, by the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory forever and ever. Amen.
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