Come Away

Song of Solomon 2:8-13     

James1:17-27   

I read a wonderful little story this past week, about something that has happened in the past and might possibly still be happening today.

The story goes that when a Navy man served on board a submarine, his wife, if he had a wife, was permitted to send him messages – but only short messages. They were limited to eight words. That’s pretty short. And they were censored, if needed. You can just forget about privacy.

But the Navy wives had a secret: The Song of Solomon. They would send messages like SOS 1:2, which counted as only one word. The husband knew that this meant Song of Solomon, chapter 1, verse 2, “Let me kiss him with the kisses of his mouth, for your love is better than wine!” These wives were sending coded messages and some of them were pretty steamy.

So, that’s one thing you can do with the Song of Solomon. Another thing we often do with these verses is to read them in weddings. In fact, we used this particular passage from the second chapter for both my daughters’ weddings. So, weddings and coded messages. But, other than that, we generally don’t know what to do with this book.

We don’t very often read from it in worship.

However, the Song of Songs, as it is often called, is always read during the Passover services in Jewish synagogues. In this tradition, the song is interpreted allegorically as a reflection of God’s amazing love for Israel.

Traditionally, in both Judaism and Christianity, the Song has been interpreted allegorically, rather than literally. The lovers represent God and God’s chosen people. Although, when you actually read the words, it’s not always easy to keep that focus. Because it is obviously about romantic love.

Since the beginning, the book has been controversial. There was a serious debate about whether it was even appropriate to include in the biblical canon. Perhaps the strongest argument for its inclusion was the assumption that it was written by King Solomon – anything written by him should, of course, be preserved. But another reason it was kept was the ardent advocacy of Rabbi Akiva.

Rabbi Akiva is regarded as the greatest rabbi of the late first/early second century. He was a leader in Israel when the Jerusalem temple was destroyed and Judaism began to reorganize itself into the kind of religion it is today, in which the word has essentially replaced the temple as the center of one’s religious practice. He organized and systematized the written and oral teachings of Judaism, which included establishing the canon – the set of scrolls that would be included in the Bible. And when it came to the Song of Songs, Rabbi Akiva said, “While all the sacred writings are holy, the Song of Songs is the holy of holies.” That is, the inner sanctum of the holy temple.

Rabbi Akiva was in awe of the Song. He was not afraid of it. Others, however, have been rather intimidated by its potency. One of the early church fathers, Origen, was very concerned about its potential effect. He warned that this book was so powerful it absolutely should not be read by anyone who had not already conquered their passions. Still, Origen loved the Song just as Rabbi Akiva did. Because, as he and others over the ages have seen, the Song of Solomon’s words may lead us toward intimacy with God.

And intimacy with God is the ultimate pleasure.

The only problem is, intimacy with God might not actually be what we are looking for. Because the truth of it is we human creatures are woefully inadequate to the role of loving God.

It is true, isn’t it, that our relationship with God is often characterized by fear more than enjoyment. We might prefer to keep a safe distance from the Almighty than to risk coming too near. We see the awesomeness of God; a powerful, perhaps angry, God who punishes to the third and fourth generation of those who have sinned against him. Many of us were taught at a young age to be wary of the ones who have the power to punish us, and we know God has that power. Sadly, we humans have a bad habit of doing fear so much better than we do love. And we assume that God is the same.

But here’s the thing: Again and again and again, throughout the ages, we have heard from the mystics – those who have experienced intimacy with God. They have told us one thing: God is beautiful. God is love – pure, absolute, radiant, ravishing love. The experience of God is better than the best thing you have ever seen, heard, felt, tasted, smelled. Meister Eckhart, the German theologian and mystic of the 14^th century, said, “God is voluptuous and delicious.” Can you imagine saying that? I am sure he raised a few eyebrows with that choice of words.

What do you suppose he meant by it?

In spite of how racy it is, the Song of Solomon hasn’t been banned from the scriptures in two thousand years, because it somehow rings true. As weird as it might seem, as uncomfortable as it might be, there is something in us that is drawn to this kind of love. Don’t you think?

The Song leads us toward a full multisensory kind of love, involving our whole being – head and heart, body and soul. A tremendous appreciation for the creation as well as the creator. The Song tells us that love is only really love when it is total and complete. That God loves us in our entirety, and God loves us to love others in their entirety, too.

Because love isn’t only about words, as we know, and the writer of James tells us. Words convey a lot about love, but the words wouldn’t mean a thing to us if not for the real, embodied love that we experience in our lives. And, to paraphrase Paul’s words to the Corinthians, words without loving actions are nothing but a clanging gong – nothing but noise.

The Song of Solomon really is about love between God and God’s people – the metaphor of God the husband to Israel, protecting and caring for her. The image of Jesus as bridegroom, taking the church as his bride. The Song of Solomon is about this kind of divine love.

But the Song of Solomon is also about love between human beings. That much is obvious.

Perhaps this is the point of the Song of Solomon – to show love as something so embodied, so sensual, that we can’t help but see that love truly is built of what we say and do and think and feel That love for one another is about all the ways we appreciate and care for one another. That the love of God toward us is found in the absolutely wonderful experiences we have in life. And even this: that the way we move toward greater love of God is by sharing that love with other human beings – love with heart and mind, body and soul.

I want to suggest that what we think we know about God might actually be countered by what we can know of God, when we experience God. If we dare to approach God. And if we dare to approach God, we might find out just how beautiful God is.

And when we can see how beautiful God is we cannot help but see that all God created is beautiful as well.

Jesus was once asked which of all the commandments was the greatest and he said, “There are two: You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and soul and body and mind. And you shall love your neighbor as yourself. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.”

It’s this simple: Love God; love people. They are inseparable.

Photo by Wolfgang Hasselmann on Unsplash