Canticles - part II - A - 3

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Second Poem (2:8-3:5)

Now being entirely retires, concentrated, gathered up and collected in itself around its Beloved, whom it senses there … (and) considering the beauty and goodness of this divine object … the soul then contemplates with ardour and a certain fervour, as almost in eagerness, which stirs the entire soul to press and urge itself around its Beloved, as would a spouse who would unexpectedly have found in her bedroom her bridegroom, returned from some long voyage. O God, how she will be moved! What a loving welcome! What eagerness of caresses, without order or method, because love, surprised by such great contentment, ordinarily loses countenance and seems somewhat beyond itself.

Such was the holy Sulamite in the beginning of her passions; she wishes with an admirable eagerness that he kiss her, that he embalms her by his Name, that he binds her with his perfumes, (and) that he leads her to his wine cellars.

And another time, O God, such agitation of heart does she witness:

2:8 I listen… for the voice of my Beloved;

behold him who comes here,

2:9 leaping over mountains, going beyond the hills.

He is similar to a roe and a small stag.

Behold him who is behind our wall;

he looks in by the windows;

he lies in wait by the lattice.

2:10 Ah, behold him, this Beloved who speaks to me.

See how she brims over in a variety of affections – the voice of my beloved, he is in the mountains, he passes by the hills, he is here in our walls, he is in the windows, he looks in, ah, behold he speaks to me! Behold well, O holy Sulamite, the concerns in a single movement. It is fervour which the meeting of the Beloved excites in us.[1]

See this divine Lover at the door. He does not simply knock; he remains knocking. He calls the soul:

Courage, get up, … hurry…[2]

come forth from yourself; take flight towards me,

my dove, my very beautiful (one)

in this heavenly sojourn,

where all things are joyful

and breathe only praise and blessings.

2:11 Everything blossoms there;

everything pours forth sweetness and perfume;

2:12 The turtle-doves,

which are the most sombre of all birds,

nevertheless resonate there their chirping.

2:13 Come, my all dearly beloved,

and in order to see me more clearly,

come and consider my heart

2:14 in the cavern of the opening of my side,

which was made when my body,

like a house reduced to a hovel,

was so pitifully demolished on the tree of the cross.

Come, show me your face.

Ah, I see it now without your showing it to me.

But then I will see it, and you will show it to me,

for you will see that I see you.

Let me hear your voice,

for I wish to join it with mine.

Thus your appearance will be beautiful

and your voice very agreeable.[3]

But so that one may know that the doves do not make their cooing only on occasions of distress, but also on those of love and joy, the sacred Bridegroom, describing the natural springtime in order to express the graces of the spiritual springtime, says: “the voice… of the turtledove has been heard on our earth,” because in springtime the turtle-dove begins to excite itself with love, to which it testifies by its chirping, which it pours forth more frequently. And soon after, he adds: “My dove, show me your appearance; let your voice resonate in my ears, for your voice is sweet and your face very much becoming and gracious.”[4]

2:15 Catch those small fox cubs

which are rummaging (about)

and damaging the vines,

for our vineyard is blooming.[5]

Seize those small fox cubs, he says in the Canticle, for are they demolishing the vines. Such small gallantries are fox cubs which one hardly sees; they are suitable for lurking about because they are small. They will intrude insensibly through the hedgerow of our resolutions, but they do not make a great havoc on account of the little bit of entry (which) one gives them. The true mark of these fox cubs is that they would like neither to speak not to do that which they say and would like that it be known by anyone. They search for darkness and flee the day.[6]

2:16 My dear friend is everything to me,

and I am everything to him.[7]

Lovers always look to speak secretly, although what they have to say are not secrets or things which merit being taken for such.

The faithful friend tries by all possible means to meet everywhere her dear Beloved, in order to shoot forth into his heart some arrows of her loving passion and render to him some small testimony of her love, thought it could be only the ability to say to him:

You are all mine, and I am all yours.

My Beloved is mine, and I am His,

2:17 who grazes among the lilies

as long as the day lasts

and until the shades (of night) descend.[8]

Return, my Beloved,

and be similar to a roe or to a stag’s fawn

on the mountains of Bether.

3:1 (At) night, in my bed,

I have looked for Him whom my soul loves,

and I have not found him.

3:2 I will arise and will go round the city of this world,

and running, sometimes by the earthly bodies,

sometimes by the heavenly,

I have looked for him, and I have not found him…

On the streets and in the squares I will look

for Him whom my heart loves.

I have looked for him,

and I have not at all found him.[9]

When the soul which is so possessed by this holy affection meets creatures, however excellent they may be, and indeed even when they would be Angels, it does not at all stop for them, except as far as is necessary in order to be aided and helped in its desire:

Tell me, therefore, she says to them,

tell me, I implore you,

have you not at all seen

Him who is the Friend of my soul?[10]

My happiness has wished that I remember the Angels who are like the sentinels of the world:

3:3 The sentinels who guard the city have found me,

and (I) resolved to see if in them I will find the consideration of God more enclosed:

Have you not at all seen the Beloved of my soul?

Beyond the angelic nature, I immediately found the divine:

3:4 A little after having passed them,

I found Him whom my soul loves.[11]

Thus, our heart, by a profound and secret instinct, tends towards and aspires to happiness in all its actions and goes looking for it here and there, although gropingly, without knowing, nevertheless, either where it resides or in what it consists, until Faith reveals it by describing its infinite marvels. And then, having found the treasure which it was looking for, alas, what contentment, what joy, what complacence does this poor human heart have!

Ah, I have found him who my soul was looking for without knowing him. I have finally found him, she says[12], Him whom my soul cherishes;

I take hold of him, and I will not at all leave him, until I am introduced to him in the house of my mother, in the bedroom of her who has begotten me.

Therefore, she finds this Beloved, for he makes her feel his Presence by a thousand considerations. She holds him, for this sentiment produces strong affections by which she presses him and embraces him. She protests that she will never leave him, O no, because those affections become eternal resolutions. Yet, nevertheless, she does not think to kiss him with the nuptial kiss until she is with him in the house of her mother, which is the heavenly Jerusalem (Gal. 4:26).

But see, Theotimus, that she thinks of nothing less, this Spouse, than of holding her Beloved at her mercy as a slave of love, for which she imagines that it is hers to lead him in her pleasure and to introduce him to the fortunate abode of her mother where, nevertheless, she will herself be introduced by him…

The eager spirit of loving passion always gives itself a little further to the one whom it loves, and the Bridegroom, himself, confesses that his Beloved has ravished his heart, having bound it by a single hair of her head, (thereby) acknowledging himself her prisoner of love.[13]

She had conceived (of) Him who, being all love, had produced love itself in such a way that one can apply to him, better than to any other, those words of the Canticle of Canticles when the sacred Bridegroom, contemplating his Beloved in her sweet repose, was seized by a holy complacence which made him adjure the daughters of Jerusalem not to waken her at all, saying:

Daughters of Jerusalem, I adjure you,

by the deer and the goats of the fields,

not at all to waken my beloved,

who is my love;

let her will or desire it.

Or, rather, according to another version (Hebrew, Syriac, Arabic):

Daughters of Jerusalem,

I adjure you not to arouse

dilection and love itself;

let her will it.

And this dilection and love is my beloved, meaning the sacred Virgin, who not only has love, but is love, itself.[14]

Thus, after having heard all the praises which so many different creatures, in envy of one another, render unanimously to the Creator, when at last one listens to that of the Saviour one finds there a certain infinity of merit, of value, (and) of gentleness which surmounts all hope and expectation of the heart. Then the soul, as aroused from a profound sleep and suddenly ravished by the extremity of the sweetness of such (a) melody, cries out: Ah, I listen to him, O the voice of my Beloved, the queen voice of all voices, the voice in comparison with which the other voices are only a mute and mournful silence.

See how this dear Friend soars up: “Behold him who comes, leaping over the highest mountains, passing beyond the hills.” His voice resounds above the Seraphim and all creatures.

He has the sight of the roe in order to penetrate farther than any other into the beauty of the sacred object which he wishes to praise. He loves the melody of the glory and praise of his Father more than all; that is why he offers bounds of praises and blessings above everything.

Consider, behold it, this divine love of the Beloved, as it is behind the wall of his humanity. See how he shows a glimpse of himself through the wounds of his body and the opening in his side, as through windows and a lattice through which he looks at us.

Yes, certainly, Theotimus, the divine love seated in the heart of the Saviour as on his royal throne looks, by the cleft of his side, at all the hearts of the children of men, for this heart, being the King of hearts, always holds his eyes upon their hearts.

But (just) as those who look through lattices see but are only imperfectly seen, so the divine love of this heart, or rather the heart of this divine love, always sees ours closely and looks on them with the eyes of his dilection. But we do not see him, however; we only catch a glimpse of him. For, O God, if we would see him as he is, we would die of love for Him, since we are mortals, as he himself, dies for us while he was mortal and as he would still die if he were not now immortal.[15]

But the Spouse, entirely smitten by the love of her divine Bridegroom, does not content herself with the hope of possessing him one day in eternal glory; she wishes still t delight in his Presence as early as (in) this mortal life. And in order to obtain this good, see (with) what diligence she works in order to find him, after which, through the negligence which she had in opening the door to him, he passed by: “I will arise,” she says, “and will look for Him whom my soul cherishes in all the streets and crossroads of the city.”

See, I beg you, with what promptitude she runs after him and how she passes among the guards of the village without fearing any difficulty. Afterwards, at last having found him, see with what ardour she hurls herself at his feet and, embracing him by his knees (and) all transported by joy, says: “ah, I hold him, … the Beloved of my soul. I will not at all let him go before I have introduced him into the house of my mother.”

But consider, I beg you, the ardent love of this Spouse. Certainly, nothing can content her other than the Presence of her Beloved. She does not at all wish for blessings, nor to stop at the hope of some goods to come, as (did) Jacob. S he wants only her God, and provided that she possess him, she is content:

At last, she says, I have found Him whom I love. I hold him, and I will not at all leave him before I have introduced him in the house of my mother, which is the heavenly Jerusalem, which is nothing else than Paradise.

And then, still, I will not at all leave him, because not only would I not like to leave him, but I will then be so perfectly united with him, that never will any other thing be able to separate me (from him).

Behold, therefore, what the love of the Spouse is toward her Beloved.[16]

---- Tenui nec Dimittam ----

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[1] Oeuvres de St. Francois de Sales. Annecy: Religieuses de la Visitation, 1893-1993), Tome 5, p. 323. Treatise on the Love of God, Book 12, Chapter 3.

[2] Oeuvres, Tome 4, p. 118. Treatise on the Love of God, Book 2, Chapter 8.

[3] Oeuvres, Tome 4, p. 295. Treatise on the Love of God, Book 5, Chapter 11.

[4] Oeuvres, Tome 4, p. 309. Treatise on the Love of God, Book 6, Chapter 2.

[5] Oeuvres, Tome 26, p. 22. The Mystical Exposition of the Canticle of Canticles, trans. Henry Benedict, Canon Mackey, D.D., O.S.B. (publication information unknown), Discourse II, p. 12.

[6] Oeuvres, Tome 14, p. 107.

[7] Oeuvres, Tome 4, p. 278. Treatise on the Love of God, Book 5, Chapter 7.

[8] oeuvres, Tome 4, p. 331. Treatise on the Love of God, Book 6, Chapter 8.

[9] Oeuvres de St. Francois de Sales. Annecy: Religieuses de la Visitation, 1893-1993), Tome 26, p. 23. The Mystical Exposition of the Canticle of Canticles, trans. Henry Benedict, Canon Mackey, D.D., O.S.B. (publication information unknown), Discourse II, pp. 12-13.

[10] Oeuvres, Tome 4, p. 278. Treatise on the Love of God, Book 5, Chapter 7.

[11] Oeuvres, Tome 26, p. 23. The Mystical Exposition of the Canticle of Canticles, Discourse II, p. 13.

[12] Oeuvres, Tome 4, p. 278. Treatise on the Love of God, Book 5, Chapter 7.

[13] Oeuvres, Tome 26, p. 23. The Mystical Exposition of the Canticle of Canticles, Discourse II, p. 13.

[14] Oeuvres, Tome 4, p. 138. Treatise on the Love of God, Book 2, Chapter 15.

[15] Oeuvres, Tome 4, p. 188. Treatise on the Love of God, Book 3, Chapter 6.

[16] oeuvres, Tome 9, p. 161.

St. Francis de Sales and the Canticle of Canticles

ST. FRANCIS DE SALES AND THE CANTICLE OF CANTICLES

TABLE OF CONTENTS :: Preface :: Introduction :: Part I :: Part II :: Part III

A Spirituality for Everyone

St. Francis de Sales presents a spirituality that can be practised by everyone in all walks of life