Tag Archives: Song of Songs

Thy Rod and Thy Staff

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Mary, the Mother of God, is identified with the Bride in the Song of Songs. As the bride, she is also the Church. Through her consent to bear Christ and through the prayers of the Church, Christ is in the midst of his people who can approach him in the Cup which overflows with blessing (Psalm 23).

Thy rod and thy staff, they have comforted me. (Psalm 23) The great King David tells us that this rod causes a consolation, not a wound. Indeed, it is by this rod and staff that the divine table is prepared and all these other details as well: oil for the head, a cup of unmixed wine (for sober intoxication), the mercy of God that follows us so well, a long dwelling in the house of the Lord. These are the blessings implied by that sweet striking…. hence, that striking must be a good thing since it produces such an abundance of grace…. the divine rod, or staff, that brings comfort and cures by striking is the Spirit…. This shows us that the wounding of the bride, by which her veil is stripped off, is a grace. In this way the soul’s beauty is unveiled and not hidden under the mantle of darkness. (St. Gregory of Nyssa, On the Song of Songs)

Psalm 23 is associated with the Eucharist because not only does King David describe the table that the Lord prepares and the cup of blessing but because King David is said to have composed this psalm when he was hiding from King Saul, who was intent on murdering him. Hiding in the dry Judean wilderness, and on the brink of death without food or drink, he was miraculously saved by God, who nourished him with a taste of the World to Come. David gratefully burst out in song, describing the magnitude of his trust in God.

According to the traditional Jewish interpretation of the psalm, David alludes to how God provided for the Jews’ every need throughout their 40-year sojourn in the desert, and to how they will sing when God brings them back to the Promised Land; David sings, not just for himself, but for every Jew.

As Christians, we understand how King David sings for each of us as well, as we taste the food of the World to Come: the Bread of heaven and the Cup of salvation. We often read Psalm 23 either in thanksgiving after the Eucharist or in preparation before the celebration of the Eucharist.

St. Gregory of Nyssa points out that the rod and staff mentioned in the psalm are the sufferings of the faithful by which God strikes us in order to help us become more spiritually beautiful. Just as David was struck by affliction–running for his life and hiding in the desert as he and his followers nearly starved to death–we are also struck by various afflictions that are certainly hard to see as “good” as we experience them but which we can see later to have enabled us to experience the presence of God afresh. More deeply. More profoundly.

In some liturgical practices, these sufferings that lead us to experience God anew are summarized in the striking of the chest at the beginning of the Eucharist and again just before approaching Holy Communion. (St. Jerome remarked that the reason we strike our chest, rather than any other body part, is because the heart is the seat of all desires and it’s our desire to do our own will that causes suffering by dividing us most from the will of God.)

The shepherd’s staff–the Spirit of God–both wounds and heals. The wounds come, whether we want them or not. It is our choice to see them as the opportunity for healing.

Joy of all who sorrow

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This Russian icon of the Mother of God, the “Joy of all who sorrow,” depicts the Mother of God holding Christ in one arm while holding a scepter aloft with her right hand. She receives the prayers of various groups of the needy, those in distress or sorrow: the elderly, the poor, the hungry, those naked and cold. They pray, certain that she and her Son will provide what they need. They receive these gifts from her and from the Church.

“You have stolen my heart, my sister, my bride.” (Song of Songs 4:9)

“I think that the expression, You have stolen my heart, means the same as You have given us life or You have put heart in us. For the sake of clarity … I will call on the divine Apostle for an explanation of these mysteries. For he tells us, in writing to the Ephesians, about the great economy of salvation through the epiphany of God in the flesh, that the Church–the bride of Christ–reveals the manifold wonders and wisdom of God to the race of angels as well as to the human race…. If the Church is Christ’s body and he is the head of the Church, then it is his face we see on her. Perhaps this is what the friends of the Bridegroom saw when they were given heart: in her they see clearly what is otherwise invisible…. So the friends of the Bridegroom see the Sun of Justice by looking upon the face of the Church as though it were a pure mirror. Thus, the Bridegroom can be seen by his reflection.” (St. Gregory of Nyssa, On the Song of Songs)

Christ, the image (lit. icon) of the invisible God is seen in both his Body–the Church–and in his most holy mother. He continues to act in this world through both his mother–who gave him flesh–and his body, the community sustained by his Body and Blood.

It is too easy to forget that everything human about Christ comes from his mother Mary. His flesh is her flesh, his blood is her blood, his DNA is her DNA. When we see her, we see her Son; when we see him, we see his mother. And when we see him, we see the whole Christ–that includes his body throughout time and space. Wherever Christ is, there his whole body is. When we encounter him–whether in personal prayer at home or in liturgical prayer at church–we encounter ALL of him.

And when we encounter all of him, our hearts are stolen.

“I am wounded with love”

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Painter: Greek School 17/18th Century Medium: Tempera on panel Location: National Museum of Fine Arts, Valletta, Malta

The bride says: “I am wounded with love.” (Song of Songs 2:5) She explains that the dart has gone right through her heart and the Bowman is love. We know that God is love (1 John 4:8) and that he sends forth his only begotten Son as his chosen arrow (Isaiah 49:2) to the elect, dipping … its tip in the Spirit of life. The arrow’s tip is faith and unites to the Bowman whomsoever it strikes. (St. Gregory of Nyssa, On the Song of Songs)

The bride in the Song is wounded by the arrow shot by the divine Bowman. The arrow, whose tip is dipped in the Spirit of life rather than the venom or poison common in the ancient world, binds her to the one who shot the arrow: God, the Father. Christ is the arrow and—unlike most arrows we are familiar with—this arrow’s wound does not kill; it causes the bride to live. Forever. Bound by faith and love to the Bowman who shot the arrow into the world, she shares the divine life of the Bowman (the Father), the arrow (Christ), and the Spirit.

The Mother of God, brought to the Temple when she was three years old, is presented by her parents to be brought up serving the Lord in his house. We see in the upper left hand corner of the icon the angel that brought her bread from heaven each day; this is a pictorial way of saying that she trusted in the Lord for her sustenance and support and so was capable of conceiving the one who is the true bread come down from heaven. This bread that she received from the angel united her in love to the giver of the Living Bread just as the arrow united the bride to the Bowman. The bread brought by the angel is spiritual sustenance just as the arrow’s point was said to be anointed with the Spirit.

Annunciation is the only time we read of in the Bible when the first words out an angel’s mouth were not “Don’t be afraid! Fear not!” The daily visitation of the angel to bring bread to the Mother of God is also a way to explain why she was not shocked to see the angel Gabriel although she was shocked at the angel’s announcement.