Friday, April 18, 2014

Good Friday and the Song of Songs

In the King James Version of the Bible, the phrase "daughters of Jerusalem" appears only in two books: the Song of Songs and one appearance in the Passion narrative of Luke (23:28). I have been contemplating what this would mean: the connection between the passion of the Song and the Passion of the Lord. I have seen some echoes of the Lord's Passion in time, marked by the division of the Song by its common refrain: " I charge you, O ye daughters of Jerusalem...that ye stir not up, nor awake my love, till he please." Good Friday, in this view, might parallel the longest part of the Song (3:6-8:5), but I'm not sure there's such a clear division.

The older Greek theologians speak of Christ's economy in his Passion. Epiphanius of Salamis mentions that the Lord could have sent legions of angels to destroy his enemies etc. In one way or another, He could have directly revealed Himself as He truly is. The Lord as Lord instead is sleeping, unable to be roused. In order to love us, He must be patient. He must have a Passion.

The "day" begins at 3:6 with the description of Solomon's palanquin. "Who is this coming from the wilderness like a column of smoke?" Even just this phrase is pregnant with resonance. The Lord led Israel in the wilderness with a pillar of cloud or smoke by day, and by night, by a pillar of fire. The Lord on this day goes out into the wilderness again, outside of the city gates of Jerusalem, escorted like Solomon is, by "picked warriors", but not of Israel. The triumphal procession (parodos in Greek) of Jesus's ironically royal entry into Jerusalem becomes a new exodos out of the city, carrying a cross.

"Come out, maidens of Jerusalem: you maidens of Zion, welcome King Solomon, wearing the crown which his mother placed on his head, on his wedding day, his day of joy" (3:11).

In traditional Roman Catholic interpretation, the Song is filled with Marian imagery. In the plain meaning, Solomon is crowned by Bathsheba, his mother. In the view I take here, Jesus's crown of thorns is a crown given him by Mary, from whom he derives His human nature. Our sins, weaknesses, and vanities are as a crown of pure gold upon his head.

Here, we also have the resonance with Luke 23, the lamentations of the women along the way. But the Lord says to them, "For the days are surely coming when you shall say 'blessed are the wombs that never bore and the breasts never suckled.'" Our unrepented sins, the systemic evils we tolerate, again and again crowns our children with the crown of thorns Jesus is bearing for us today, once for all. That God executes justice on the human nature resting in Himself allows us to turn in forgiveness to the most unforgivable and seek forgiveness for whatever we need. Gandhi said, "Eye for an eye makes the whole world blind," but the Crucifixion is the only thing that allows us to keep our sight, to have genuine power to break the cycle of vengeance. We cannot do it alone.

And then we go into a love song. This is a mystical reading, so I just let Chapter 4 fill me. Jesus is crucified for us, for love of His Church to whom he imputes righteousness, as a lover imputes every merit to his beloved, whether others would see it or not. Our language parallels the suffering of the lover with every other suffering, so that we can imagine the pain of the world and the deepest depths of human iniquity being transformed into unconditional, one-way love (as Paul Zahl puts it). This is the transformation of the Cross: the mystical conversion of sin into redemptive love.

Christ drives the moneychangers out of the Temple for a variety of reasons, but it also signifies the same thing as the tearing of the Temple's veil. We cannot make any exchange for God's favor or forgiveness. There is only one type of exchange that is needful. And the Song says this, too, "If someone were to offer for love all the wealth in his house, it would be laughed to scorn."

The Song read this way also crosses the boundaries between lover and beloved: bride and bridegroom. Let us remember, "The watchmen came upon me, as they made their rounds of the city. They beat me and wounded me and those stripped off my cloak. Maidens of Jerusalem, I charge you, if you find my beloved, tell him that I am faint with love."

I will admit that I have not seen Mel Gibson's Passion of the Christ . I'm thinking of seeing it tonight after Good Friday services. I've never quite understood the wallowing in Christ's suffering. But the Song changes that for me. The whipping, for instance, now speaks to me of the faintness from blood loss. I know what it is to feel faint from blood loss or dehydration. I know what it is to feel faint with love. It always has been hard for me to understand why we dwell on the brutality of Christ's death. But the world is brutal. And the more brutal it is for Jesus, the more He can convert it to love and embrace us. "When I am lifted up, I will draw all people to myself."

The Holy Brothers pray that you will know the breadth, and height, and depth of God's love for you in the brutality of His Passion.

1 comment:

bls said...

WOw, this is really interesting, Caelius.

I must go read Song of Songs again, with these ideas in mind....