Those Loving Feelings

Love Thrives on Confidence and Trust

1 Solomon’s Song of Songs. She* 2 Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth—for your love is more delightful than wine. 3 Pleasing is the fragrance of your perfumes; your name is like perfume poured out. No wonder the young women love you! 4 Take me away with you—let us hurry! Let the king bring me into his chambers. Friends We rejoice and delight in you; we will praise your love more than wine. She How right they are to adore you! —Song of Solomon 1:1–4

*The main male and female speakers (identified primarily on the basis of the gender of the relevant Hebrew forms) are indicated by “He” and “She” respectively. The words of others are marked “Friends.” In some instances, the divisions and their captions are debatable. The Song of Solomon is a song of triumph in love and marriage. It consists of a collection of songs or lyrics, and its objectives are to teach us the sacredness of human love and to elevate our thinking about the function of marriage. The first lyric sings of love’s fulfillment—the fulfillment that comes when romance has flowered into a state of marriage and love is sure. The bride speaks: in her thoughts, she enthrones the bridegroom as her king. Musing upon the king’s love and her new experience in his chambers as his bride, she breaks out in soliloquy. She first expresses her bridal joy over the king’s kisses and love: “Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth—for your love is more delightful than wine.” She could, naturally, be jealous of the virgins in the company of the king, but she doesn’t mind them. If they love the king, their presence is something to be expected: “Pleasing is the fragrance of your perfumes; your name is like perfume poured out. No wonder the young women love you!” She finds her chief joy and delight not in the luxurious chambers where the king brings her, nor in the rare wine served by his cupbearers, but in his person and his love: “Take me away with you—let us hurry! Let the king bring me into his chambers. We rejoice and delight in you; we will praise your love more than wine.” She sees no reason to be concerned if the king finds pleasure in the company of the virgins. In her thoughts, she places their love for him above suspicion: “No wonder the young women love you!” In his poem, “Venus and Adonis,” Shakespeare writes, “Where Love reigns, disturbing Jealousy doth call himself Affection’s sentinel.” In contrast, here in the Song of Solomon is an affection that requires no guarding by that sentinel; it is a love so sure that it leaves no place for distrust, nor for the doubts and suspicions that spring from jealousy. In England, during mediaeval times, a girl customarily led the bridal party scattering flowers along their way. How sad, to leave the flowers of romance to wither on the path until they have no more beauty or life. It is a high moment when the bride and groom stand before the marriage altar and vow to love and cherish each other “until death us do part.” Think of the radiance of love and hope that fills the sky from horizon to horizon. Think of the future years of life-enriching comradeship and domestic felicity promised by that union. Then, think of how frequently marriages that began so happily and promised so much end tragically. Sad, isn’t it? Why is it that so many marriages fail? There are many causes, but a common one is jealousy. Often, there is no basis to it besides low self-esteem. Love feeds on confidence and trust, whereas jealousy feeds on doubt and rumor, and “rumor doth double, like the voice and echo,” as Shakespeare writes. Jealousy is a green-eyed monster you must immediately trample and never allow a chance to invade the sanctity of your home. Above all, never give occasion for jealousy. Think of the infamy of breaking of the marriage bond. Consider what a tragedy divorce is—it means bidding farewell to the heart’s dreams as uttered in the words, “until death us do part.” It is the burial of an ideal, and the saddest death in all the world. Often a husband or wife sues for divorce on the grounds of incompatibility. Recall the Old Testament parable in which “a thistle in Lebanon sent a message to a cedar in Lebanon, ‘Give your daughter to my son in marriage’” (2 Kings 14:9). The thistle and cedar are different plants with nothing in common, no compatibility. A couple contemplating marriage should consider very carefully whether they are temperamentally suited to each other, whether they can walk together agreeably, whether their ideals blend, and whether they can harmonize their personalities and their aims. The Cherokee Indians have an impressive marriage ceremony. The man and woman join hands over running water to indicate that their lives will henceforth flow in one stream. A thistle-and-cedar marriage promises no good to either the one or the other. There can be no real or helpful partnership between a man and woman who are as wide apart as these two plants of the forest. The result would be unrealized ideals, disappointment, unhappiness, and incompatibility—a miserable mess. Marriage calls for mutual fitness as well as an adjustment period. Two opposite natures may learn to adapt to one another when there is mutual love, but it is a difficult thing to achieve, and it requires earnest resolve and mutual effort. The appropriate time to consider the probabilities is before marriage, not afterwards. Marriage should be a matter of prayer. It is too sacred and holy a union to enter into without first seeking divine guidance.