Song of Solomon 3:6-11

Who is this that cometh out of the wilderness?

The royal pair in their glorious chariot

Great princes in the East are in the habit of travelling in splendid palanquins, which are at the same time chariots and beds. The person reclines within, screened by curtains from public view; a bodyguard protects the equipage from robbers, and blazing torches light up the path along which the travellers proceed. King Solomon, in this Song, describes the Church of Christ, and Christ Himself, as travelling through the world in such a palanquin. The day is coming when both our Divine Lord and His chosen bride shall be revealed in glory before the eyes of all men.

I. The magnificent progress, the glorious on-going of the Church and her Lord through the world (Song of Solomon 3:6). The equipage excites the attention of the onlooker; his curiosity is raised, and he asks, “Who is this?” The true Church of God is a stranger and pilgrim still; an alien and a foreigner in every land; a speckled bird; a dove in the midst of ravens; a lily among thorns. The ignorance of men concerning spiritual things is not, however, caused by the darkness of the things themselves, for Christ and His Church are the great lights of the world. When great personages travelled in their palanquins, and more especially in marriage processions, they were attended by a number of persons who, at night, carried high up in the air burning cressets which gave forth a blaze of light. Sometimes these lights were simply torches carried in the hands of running footmen; at other times they were a sort of iron basket lifted high into the air, upon poles, from which went up a pillar of smoke and flame. Our text says, “Who is this that cometh out of the wilderness like pillars of smoke?” a beautiful illustration of the fact that wherever Christ and His cause are carried, light is a sure accompaniment. High lift your lamps, ye servants of our Lord. High lift up the Cross of the Redeemer; for in Him is light, and the light is the life of men. But you will tell me that our text rather speaks of “pillars of smoke” than of sparkling lamps. The smoke is but the effect of the flame, and even the pillar of smoke is luminous. What is the smoke that has attended the Church? What but the deaths of her martyrs, the sufferings of her confessors, the patient endurance of her valiant sons? Wherever she goes, the thick smoke of her suffering goeth up to Heaven. It often happens that Oriental monarchs of immense possessions are not content with burning common coals in these cressets, but frequently consume sandalwood and other woods which give forth a delightful smell; or else, if they use ordinary coals, they sprinkle upon them frankincense and myrrh, so that a delicious perfume is spread on all sides. In the olden times, they also went to great expense in obtaining drugs, which the merchants collected from all parts of the earth, and these were carefully compounded into the renowned “powders of the merchants,” which yielded a delicious variety of delicate perfumes, not to be produced by any one aromatic essence. Our inspired poet describes the travelling procession of the royal pair, and fails not to dwell upon the delightful perfume of myrrh and frankincense, with all the powders of the merchant, “which make the wilderness smell as a garden of roses.” Wherever the Church of Christ proceeds, though her pathway is a desert, though she marches through a howling wilderness, she scatters the richest perfume. Among the ten wonders which Jewish tradition ascribes to the temple, we find that the rain never extinguished the fire of the wood which was laid in order upon the altar, nor did the wind ever conquer the pillar of smoke so as to disperse or bend it. Verily it is so with the Church of God, as she cometh out of the wilderness: who shall quench her flaming lamp, or stay the incense of her golden censers. Ride on, Great Prince, and bear Thy spouse with Thee in Thy majestic chariot, till Thou hast lit the world with Thy Divine light, and hast made it a temple filled with a cloud of incense of sweet smell to the nostrils of Jehovah!

II. The security of Christ’s Church at all times. Of course when travelling through a wilderness, a royal procession was always in danger of attack. Arabs prowled around; wandering Bedouins were always prepared to fall upon the caravan; and more especially was this the case with a marriage procession, because then the robbers might expect to obtain many jewels, or, if not, a heavy ransom for the redemption of the bride or bridegroom by their friends. What shall I say of the attacks which have been made upon the Church of Christ, and upon Christ Himself? They have been incessant. We know that Christ’s cause in the world is always safe because of Divine protection, and because the lemons of God’s angels keep watch and ward over the saints. But we have something more tangible than this. Our gracious God has been pleased to commit unto men the ministry of Christ. “Unto the angels hath He not put in subjection the world to come, whereof we speak.” The Lord ordaineth that chosen men should be the protectors of His Church; not that they have any power as of themselves to do anything, but He girdeth the weak with strength and maketh the feeble mighty; so then, men, even the sons of men stand in array around the travelling palanquin of Christ, to guard both the bridegroom and the bride. Read the 7th and 8th verses carefully, and you will notice that there are enough swordsmen. “Threescore valiant men are about it.” There are always enough men chosen of God to guard the Church. Observe that these warriors are men of the right mettle. “Yes,” says poor trembling Little-Faith, “we have hosts of men, but they are not like, the great-hearts of old; they have not the qualifications which the age requires.” Ah! but remember, about the bed of Solomon there are “threescore valiant men;” and glory be unto my Master, while I may not flatter the ministry, I must not dishonour Him by believing that He has left His Church without valiant defenders. “Ah!” I think I hear you say, “but though there may be so many men, and men of the right sort, I am afraid they are not in the right place.” Look again at the text. It is written, “Threescore valiant men are about it”; that is, there are some on that side, and some on this, some before, and some behind; they are all round the travelling chariot of Christ. “I wish there might be one in our parish,” says one. Pray for Him, and He who has promised to send you all good things may yet send him to you. Notice that these men are all well armed. “They all hold swords.” What swords are these? Every valiant man in Christ’s Israel holds the sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God. Besides this, and here is an opportunity for you all to carry swords--every valiant man in God’s Israel carries the sword of prayer, which is comparable to those huge two-handed swords of the olden time, which the soldier lifted up and brought down with such tremendous force as to cleave a man in halves: prayer is a weapon which no man can effectually resist. Further, these men are not only well armed, but they are well trained. They are all expert in war; men who have endured temptations themselves; men whose souls have been exercised; men who have slain both the lion and the bear, and are men of war from their youth. Further, these men were not only well trained, but you will see that they were always ready. Each man has his sword upon his thigh, ready to be drawn forth. Observe also that these men were watchful, for “they had their sword on their thigh because of fear in the night.” They never sleep, but watch always for the Church’s interest. Pray ye that the Lord may raise up many such, who night and day with tears shall watch for the souls of men, and against the enemies of our Israel.

III. The excellency of this chariot in which Jesus rides. It is not difficult to convey to persons the most unacquainted with Eastern manners and customs, an idea of what this palanquin is. It is a sort of large sedan in which one or two persons may recline with ease. Of course, this palanquin could not be made of gold or silver, because then it would be too heavy for carriage; it must be made of wood; hence King Solomon made a bed, or chariot, or palanquin, of the wood of Lebanon. Then there needs to be four pillars supporting the covering and the curtains; the pillars thereof are of silver. The bottom of it should be something massive, in order to sustain the weight of the person; the bottom thereof is of gold. The canopy on the top is a covering of purple. Since to lie on gold would be very unpleasant, it is covered with delicate, daintily wrought carpets; and so we have the bottom thereof paved, or rather carpeted with love for the daughters of Jerusalem. Some delicate devices of needlework adorn the bottom of this bed-chariot in which the king and his spouse recline during their journey. The doctrines of the Gospel are comparable, for their antiquity, for their sweet fragrance, for their incorruptibility, to the wood of Lebanon. The Gospel of Christ never decays; Jesus Christ the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever. Not one single truth bears any sign of rot. And to those souls that are enlightened from above, the Gospel gives forth a fragrance far richer than the wood of Lebanon. As for the silver pillars which bear up the canopy, to what should I liken them but to the attributes of God which support and guarantee the efficiency of the great atonement of Christ beneath which we are sheltered. There is the silver pillar of God’s justice. He cannot, He will not smite the soul that hides beneath the Cross of Christ. Then stands the next, the solid pillar of His power. “They shall never perish, neither shall any pluck them out of My hand; My Father which gave them Me is greater than all, and none is able to pluck them out of My Father’s hand.” Then on the other side is the pillar of His love, a silver pillar, indeed, bright and sparkling to the eye; love unchanging and eternal, strong as the power and fast as the justice which bear up the canopy on the other side. And here on this side stands immutability, another column upon which the atonement rests. If God could change, then might He cast away His blood-bought; but “because I am God and change not, therefore, ye sons of Jacob, rejoice.” As for the covering of the chariot, it is of purple. I need not tell you where it was dyed. No Tyrian hues are mingled here. As for the bottom of this palanquin, which is of gold--may not this represent the eternal purpose and counsel of God, that purpose which He formed in Himself or ever the earth was? Then, to make this all soft and pleasant to recline upon, here is pavement of needlework. Soft cushions of love on which to rest. These is a double meaning here, for both the bride and bridegroom find rest in love. Our Lord finds rest in the love of His people. “Here will I dwell for ever.” They do, as it were, make these carpets of needlework in their love and affection for Him, and in their trust and confidence in Him; and here He rests. On the other hand, our Beloved spent His life to work for us our bed of rest, so that we must translate it “love of,” as well as love for the daughters of Jerusalem. We rest in Christ’s love; He rests in our love.

IV. The duty of every believing heart in connection with the subject. Let every believer, while he recognizes himself as part of the Church inside the palanquin, yet look upon himself personally as one of the daughters of Zion, and let us each go forth this morning to meet King Solomon. He is the Wonderful, the Counsellor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace, and therefore is He King Solomon going forth. Get up from your beds of sloth; rise from your chambers of ease; go forth, go forth to pray, to labour, to suffer; go forth to live in purity, leaving Babylon behind; go forth to walk with Him alone, leaving even your kinsfolk and acquaintance if they will not follow with you. Wherefore tarriest thou at home when the King is abroad? Behold the Bridegroom cometh, come ye forth to meet Him,” and behold King Solomon. To-day let your eye rest upon Him. Let your eye behold the head that to-day is crowned with glory, wearing many crowns. (C. H. Spurgeon.)

Christ’s ascension

The simile is a most striking one. When Christ was on earth, He came, as it were, to a wilderness. He lived in the wilderness while here, in the desert, on the mountain-top. It was at His ascension that He appeared as pillars of smoke rising out of the earthly wilderness. “When He had spoken these things, while they beheld, He was taken up, and a cloud received Him out of their sight.” And when we consider who it was that ascended--the well-beloved Son of God, in whom the Father was well pleased, in whom His soul delighted, who finished His work on earth--we see still further the propriety of the figure. The smoke was not the smoke of offensiveness, but the fragrance of perfume, the smoke of the sweet-smelling incense, filling both earth and heaven with fragrance.

I. Christ’s ascension is the consummation of his work.

1. It was not complete until this had taken place. Before His crucifixion He was working out our salvation and accomplishing the purposes of His Father. When in the grave He was under the dominion of death. After His resurrection He was still in this world of sin and sorrow. But when He ascended into heaven the whole work He had undertaken to perform was carried to a fitting conclusion.

2. We must bear in mind that when Christ ascended into heaven it was not merely a return to the place He came from. He came from heaven a spirit, an essence. He returned, the same spirit indeed, but bearing with Him a human body. His ascension, then, was rather the entrance of renewed manhood into the presence of God, the admission of justified humanity into the kingdom of heaven.

II. Christ’s ascension was the earnest of our personal blessings. Two important objects were to be especially assured to us.

1. The preparing a place--“I go that I may prepare a place for you.” What this preparation involved we cannot exactly say.

2. The giving His Spirit--in other words, preparing us for the place.

3. The officiating as High-Priest.

III. Christ’s ascension was a suitable reward to His work. (Homilist.)

Like pillars of smoke.

Pillars of smoke

The architecture of the smoke is wondrous, whether God with His finger curls it into a cloud or rounds it into a dome, or points it in a spire, or spreads it in a wing, or, as in the text, hoists it in a pillar. In the first place, these pillars of smoke indicate the suffering the Church of God has endured. The smoke of martyrs’ homes and martyrs’ bodies if rolling up all at once would have eclipsed the noonday sun, and turned the brightest day the world ever saw into a midnight. Has persecution ceased? Ask that young man who is trying to be a Christian in a store or factory, where from morning to night he is the butt of all the mean witticisms of unbelieving employees. Ask that wife whose husband makes her fondness for the house of God, and even her kneeling prayer by the bed-side, a derision, and is no more fit for her holy companionship than a filthy crow would be fit companion for a robin or a golden oriole. For the body, thanks to God, there are now no swords or fiery stakes, but for the souls of thousands of the good, in a figurative sense, rack and gibbet and Torquemada. The symbol of the domestic and social and private and public suffering of a great multitude of God’s clear children, pillars of smoke. But nothing can be more beautiful than the figures of smoke on a clear sky. You can see what you will in the contour of this volatile vapour, now enchanted castles, now troops of horsemen, now bannered procession, now winged couriers, now a black angel of wrath under a spear of the sunshine turned to an angel of light, and now from horizon to horizon the air is a picture-gallery filled with masterpieces of which God is the artist, morning clouds of smoke born in the sunrise, and evening clouds of smoke laid in the burnished sepulchres of the sunset. The beauty of the transfigured smoke is a Divine symbol of the beauty of the Church. The fairest of all the fair is she. Her mission is to cover the earth with a supernatural gladness, to open all the prison-doors, to balsam all the wounds, to moss all the graves, to burn up the night in the fireplace of a great morning, to change handcuffs into diamonded wristlets, to turn the whole race around, and whereas it faced death, commanding it, “Right about face for heaven!” According to the number of the spires of the churches in all our cities, towns and neighbour-hoods, are the good homes, the worldly prosperities, and the pure morals, and the happy souls. According as the churches are numerous are the crimes few. According as the churches are few the crimes are numerous. The most beautiful organization the world ever saw or ever will see is the much-maligned Church, the friend of all good, the foe of all evil, “fair as the moon and clear as the sun.” Beautiful in her Author, beautiful in her mission, the heroine of the centuries, the bride of Christ, the queen of the nations! Through her gates will march all the influences for good that shall ever reach our world. Take its membership as a mass, not speaking of the acknowledged exceptions, they are the noblest, grandest, kindest, best men and women of the ages. But for them the earth would long ago have been a burned-out volcano. They have been the salt that has kept the human race from putrefaction insufferable either to human or angelic olfactories. (T. De Witt Talmage.)