Song of Solomon 3:1-3

I sought Him, but I found Him not.

Hidings of God

Prophetically these verses may be taken as delineating the sorrow of the first disciples at the departure of Christ from the earth. Between Easter Day and Pentecost the infant Church was very much as here described. We would not, however, limit the application of this passage to the apostolic age. It has its fulfilment, we believe, again and again. The leading idea is that of a temporary estrangement, real or imaginary, between Christ and His people, during which they seek Him but cannot find Him.

I. There would be nothing remarkable in the Redeemer denying the consolations of His Presence to those who were careless about Him. The remarkable point suggested by the text is that there is such a thing as desiring ,God and being disappointed. Now it would seem to be an ordinary feature in God s providence to withdraw occasionally from the saints, in order to increase that very craving after Him which He declines to gratify. He suspends His operations in their behalf until what we call the last moment (John 2:4; John 6:5). Again and again have dangers and distresses thickened round about the Church. The heathen have furiously raged together. The kings of the earth have stood up, and the rulers taken counsel together. The tyranny of despotic monarchs has well-nigh crushed the Church at some periods: at others, heresies have prevailed so widely that the whole community has appeared tainted. This was the case with Arianism in the fourth century. They who maintained sound doctrine cried unto the Lord, and apparently in vain. They sought Him, but they found Him not. And this is no solitary instance. How often has it happened with those who have gone to bear the cross into heathen lands! They have laboured and toiled, and caught nothing. For months and years they have preached, and made no converts. Nor is it difficult to perceive that all this is a discipline to the souls of the faithful; nay, not only a discipline, but a test of the reality of their faith. How could the fervour of a man’s heart be proved, if he was heard at the first petition? How could the depth of the soul’s yearning after the Divine Being be manifested, if He was to be found as soon as sought for? Again, it is not unusual to find persons complaining that they are at times quite unable to experience pleasure or consolation in religious exercises. They go through the service of the Church without once being able to realize the presence of God, or the solemnity of what they are about. Their hearts respond not to the words of thanksgiving or of prayer. Everything seems heavy, wearisome, and cold. People are frequently discouraged when they find their souls thus chilled and lifeless--utterly unable to rise to the level of their work; but if you get possessed of the principle which we are illustrating, there will be no need for this discouragement. We are not always to blame when we are listless and cold in Church. If we do not try or desire to be otherwise, of course the fault is our own; but if we try to be devout and cannot, it may be only that God is dealing with us--that He is subjecting us to a discipline which He sees necessary. For example, He may be teaching us not to rely upon warm emotions--not to build overmuch upon feelings, however good.

II. Now from the foregoing considerations there flows a very solemn thought. We have said that, as well to individuals as to the Christian Church at large, the Redeemer applies a sort of discipline in modifying at times or altogether withholding the consolations of His Presence. What follows? Why, that He must personally engage Himself about every soul. The spirit of each man and woman is a separate planet in the spiritual system whose summer and winter, whose storms and sunshine are regulated by Deity alone. Hence the full meaning of that passage in which Christ Jesus is called the Shepherd and Bishop of our souls. It intimates that the human soul is so fine and subtle a thing that none but He can supervise and tend it. From the moment of our new birth He takes us in hand. Every trial and temptation has been appointed by Him; every annoyance and disaster has been weighed out by Him. His seat is in heaven, yet is His hand upon each one of us. He shrouds Himself from the gaze of the seraphim, but He is about the path and bed of every child in this assembly. And this is what we would have you learn secondarily from the text, “I sought Him, but I found Him not.” His withdrawing Himself is a proof of His individual care. When anything happens out of the common course, it speaks to us of God. When with all our exertions we fail to find Christ, it is evidence that He is working in and about us. We recur to the main lesson involved in what has been said, which we desire especially to enforce. It is this. We are not to expect to find always great delight in the path of duty; we are not to be anxious about our feelings, if our actions are right. Daily service and weekly communion will often be attended coldly, and as we fear without heart. It must be so. It is the tendency of repetition to diminish ecstatic emotions; still we are to go on steadfastly on our road. The spiritual life is very like the natural, it has its bright days and its gloomy, its calm and its storm, its hours of exultation and depression. Let us take each as it comes, doing our work in each with care and sobriety and perseverance. Yet a little while and these variations shall be no more. We are travelling onward to a land where the sun never goes down, and the noise of the waterfloods is never heard. (Bp. Woodford.)