Tell me, you whom I love, where you graze your flock and where you rest your sheep at midday. Why should I be like a veiled woman beside the flocks of your friends? Song of Songs 1:7
Last time thought
how important it is to appreciate what kind of literature we are
reading when we come to different parts of the Bible. If we are not to
misunderstand them, the various books have to be understood in their proper light
and applied in their proper context.
To illustrate
this principle I picked one of the Bible’s most puzzling books, the Song of
Songs, and focussed pretty much at random on the verse above, asking what sense
we can make of it. What sort of book is the Song? Why has God (who is never
mentioned, by the way) seen fit to give it to us in his word? Is there
something wrong with us if we find it almost hopelessly obscure?
It’s probably
easier to say what it isn’t than what it is. It isn’t law, like Leviticus or
Deuteronomy. It isn’t history, like Kings or Chronicles or a Gospel. It isn’t a
letter or a prophesy. It isn’t praise of God, like the Psalms. It isn’t
visionary material – “apocalyptic” – like Ezekiel or Daniel or Revelation.
So… what is
it?
Traditionally,
it has been grouped with books referred to as “Wisdom” literature, along with
Job, Proverbs and Ecclesiastes. These books are largely poetic, and they do
their job more by creating impressions, thoughts and questions in our minds, and
by stirring our imaginations, than by straight teaching. They very often deal
with down-to-earth, everyday life, and challenge us about how we grapple with
these issues. Its wisdom with its sleeves rolled up, not just intellectual cleverness.
Broadly
speaking, the Song has been interpreted in two main ways throughout both Jewish
and Christian history.
First, allegory.
An allegory is
usually a simple enough story, but one which carries a second meaning for those
with eyes to see. On the face of it the Narnia stories are tales about a magic
land, a lion and four children. But the lion experiences death and returns to life
to win freedom and joy for Narnia and the children. So no wonder Christians
have seen the stories as being really about Jesus.
Jesus himself,
in some of his parables, used allegories. The sower who goes out sowing his
seed is the messenger of God spreading the good news of the kingdom. The
different types of toil represent the people who hear and respond in different
ways.
And likewise
the Song portrays the relationship between God and his people Israel, or Jesus
and his church, as a love relationship between a man and a woman. There is
intense joy; there is pain; there is deep longing; there is ultimate
fulfilment.
Convincing?
To most Bible-readers this smacks more of wishful thinking than of realistic
reading. True, Jesus is described in the New Testament as a shepherd, like the
main male figure in the Song; and he is also pictured as the bridegroom of his
bride, the church. But once you’ve said that, that’s about it, and it certainly
isn’t an interpretation that hits you between the eyes!
Second, it’s exactly what it first appears to be: a love
poem, or perhaps a sequence of love poems. And the reason God has given it
to us in the Bible is to remind us of the sheer beauty of love between a man
and a woman – yes, even along with some of the pains and hurts that such love
brings. That understanding has the merit of being natural and literal.
It is frankly
erotic – the very first line, “Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth”
reminds us that sex, properly used, is good. (It was, after all, invented by
God (who else!?), and should be delighted in.)
The beauty of
nature is also something to be enjoyed – the fragrances and fruits, the trees
and the flowers, the wonder of the human body (not least the female body). We
read about gazelles and does and stags as well as sheep, and are reminded of
the teeming vitality, energy and fruitfulness of the animal kingdom. This could
almost be a picture of Adam and Eve before the fall!
If you are
determined to find a story in these eight chapters, you won’t be the first to
try; there certainly are scraps of narrative along the way, but trying to piece
them together is a lost cause. (One theory is that the woman is a simple
country girl longing for her childhood sweetheart while King Solomon is on the
prowl, wanting to add her to his harem. Convincing?)
A vital
principle of Bible-reading is to take it in the most natural sense possible,
unless there is very good reason. And for my money, that means that the Song of
Songs is a poem designed to fire our imaginations and to cause us to delight in
both the wonders of creation and, particularly, the beauty of human love.
That’ll do for me!
Father
in heaven, thank you for your greatest gift of all, the gift of love. Thank you
for your love for us so clearly demonstrated in Jesus. But thank you too for
human love, the love of man and woman, family love, friendship love, the love
of nature, and sexual love. Teach me always to love with faithfulness,
sacrifice and purity. Amen.
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