Commentary - Song of Solomon 1:1-7

Bird's-eye view

The Song of Solomon opens not with a slow introduction but with an explosion of pure, uninhibited desire. This is not a book for the prudish, nor is it a book for the licentious. It is a book for those who understand that God is the author of all our proper loves, and that the most intense of our earthly loves, that between a man and a woman in the covenant of marriage, is designed to be a picture of the most intense love in the universe, the love between Christ and His Church. The first seven verses set the stage for the entire drama. The bride, the Shulammite, speaks first, and her words are a cascade of longing for her beloved, the king. She desires his intimate affection, she praises his character, and she yearns to be drawn away with him. Her self-awareness is acute; she knows she is not perfect in appearance, weathered by hardship, but she also knows she is lovely in his eyes. This overture establishes the central themes of the book: the goodness of erotic desire within covenant, the interplay of human love and divine typology, and the secure foundation of a love that is both deeply personal and publicly acknowledged.

We must read this, first, as what it is: a divinely inspired love poem celebrating marital love. To skip over the literal meaning to get to the "spiritual" allegory is to kick out the rungs of the ladder as you climb. God gave us this book to teach us how a man and a woman ought to love one another. But because all of creation is designed to point to Christ, this celebration of marriage is also, and profoundly, a picture of the gospel. The king is a type of Christ, and the bride is a type of the Church. Her desire for him is a model of the Church's desire for her Lord, and his delight in her is a picture of Christ's delight in His redeemed people, whom He sees not in their sun-scorched sin but as lovely and desirable.

Outline

Context In The Canon

The Song of Songs is part of the Ketuvim, or the "Writings," in the Hebrew Bible, and is traditionally identified as one of the five Megillot, or scrolls, read at specific Jewish feasts. It is wisdom literature, penned by Solomon, the king who presided over Israel's golden age and was given unparalleled wisdom by God. It sits alongside Proverbs, which teaches practical wisdom for daily life, and Ecclesiastes, which explores the meaning of life "under the sun." While Proverbs gives instruction on avoiding the strange woman and cleaving to the wife of your youth, and Ecclesiastes reflects on the vanity of pleasure apart from God, the Song of Solomon provides the positive, glorious celebration of the gift of that pleasure within its God-ordained context. It is the Bible's great poem on the meaning and goodness of married, sexual love. Typologically, it is the pinnacle of the Old Testament's presentation of God's love for His people, a theme that runs from the covenant with Abraham, through the marriage metaphor in prophets like Hosea and Jeremiah, and finds its ultimate fulfillment in the New Testament's depiction of the Church as the Bride of Christ.

Key Issues

The Best Song

The very first verse tells us that this is "The Song of Songs." This is a Hebrew superlative, a way of saying this is the greatest, the ultimate, the best song. Just as the Holy of Holies was the most holy place, this is the song par excellence. And it is Solomon's. This is the man who wrote 1,005 songs (1 Kings 4:32), and this is the best of them all. Why? Because it deals with the most profound mystery of human existence, the one that Paul tells us points directly to Christ and the Church (Eph. 5:32). It is the best song because it sings of the best love.

We live in a world that is deeply confused about love and sex. On one side, we have a neopagan culture that has made an idol of sex, divorcing it from covenant, commitment, and fruitfulness, and thereby turning it into a source of endless degradation and misery. On the other side, we have a pietistic and gnostic tendency within the church that is embarrassed by sex, treating it as a necessary evil for procreation rather than a glorious gift for celebration. This book is God's rebuke to both errors. It presents sexual love as something passionate, beautiful, desirable, and holy, but always within the secure and exclusive framework of marriage. This is the best song, and we need to learn to sing it.

Verse by Verse Commentary

1 The Song of Songs, which is Solomon’s.

The title is a statement of quality and authorship. This is the chief song from the pen of the wisest king. Solomon, for all his later failings, was a man who understood the world God had made. God gave him wisdom concerning everything from botany to statecraft, and that included the mysterious way of a man with a maid. This book is not anonymous folklore; it is a product of divinely-inspired royal wisdom, intended to instruct the people of God on the nature of true love.

2 “May he kiss me with the kisses of his mouth! For your love is better than wine.

The poem begins in the middle of things, with the bride's passionate cry. She doesn't begin with a philosophical treatise on love; she begins by wanting to be kissed. This is an earthy, physical, and direct expression of desire for intimacy. And she immediately gives the reason: his love is better than wine. Wine in Scripture is a symbol of joy, celebration, and earthly pleasure. She is saying that the joy she finds in his love surpasses the greatest of natural joys. This is the proper starting point for all Christian experience. The Church's first desire must be for intimate fellowship with her Lord, a fellowship that she knows is superior to all the fleeting pleasures the world has to offer.

3 Your oils have a pleasing fragrance, Your name is like purified oil; Therefore the maidens love you.

Her praise moves from his actions (kisses) to his essence. Anointing oils were fragrant and costly, used to signify honor, joy, and consecration. She says his very presence is like a pleasing fragrance. But then she goes deeper. His name is like purified oil. In Hebrew thought, a name represents a person's character and reputation. His character is pure, precious, and fragrant. This is why others, the "maidens," also love him. A man of true character is attractive not just to his own beloved, but he is rightly esteemed by the entire community. Typologically, this is a beautiful picture of Christ. His character, His reputation, His very name is a fragrant offering to God and a source of attraction to all who are drawn by the Father. The gospel is the good news about His name, and it is this name that the Church loves and proclaims.

4 Draw me after you and let us run together! The king has brought me into his chambers.” “We will rejoice in you and be glad; We will extol your love more than wine. Rightly do they love you.”

Her desire leads to a plea for action. "Draw me." She recognizes his leadership, his initiative. She wants him to take the lead, and she promises to follow eagerly: "let us run together!" This is the divine dance of masculine initiative and feminine response. Then, the scene shifts. Her desire is met. "The king has brought me into his chambers." This is a place of privacy, intimacy, and royal privilege. The response to this union is not just her own, but that of the chorus (the "daughters of Jerusalem"). They rejoice with her, affirming the goodness of this love and echoing her earlier sentiment: "We will extol your love more than wine." The final line, "Rightly do they love you," is a community affirmation of his worthiness. Good and godly love is never a purely private affair; it is a testimony that blesses and is blessed by the community of faith.

5 “I am black but lovely, O daughters of Jerusalem, Like the tents of Kedar, Like the curtains of Solomon.

Now the bride speaks of herself, and she does so with a striking paradox. "I am black but lovely." She is dark-skinned, not from ethnicity in our modern sense, but from exposure to the sun, as the next verse makes clear. This was not the pale ideal of aristocratic beauty. She has been weathered by the elements. And yet, she declares that she is lovely. She uses two comparisons. She is like the "tents of Kedar," which were made of black goat's hair, functional and rugged, yet having their own stark beauty against the desert landscape. And she is like the "curtains of Solomon," the rich, ornate tapestries of the royal court. She is both rugged and royal, weathered and wonderful. This is the Church's confession. In ourselves, we are sun-scorched by sin, bearing the marks of our toil and failure in the world. But in Christ, in the eyes of our King, we are lovely, clothed in the rich curtains of His righteousness.

6 Do not look at me because I am swarthy, For the sun has burned me. My mother’s sons were angry with me; They made me caretaker of the vineyards, But I have not taken care of my own vineyard.

She explains the reason for her dark complexion. It's not her natural state; it's the result of hardship. Her brothers were angry with her and forced her into the hard labor of a vineyard keeper. This is a story of affliction and mistreatment. And in the midst of this forced labor for others, she says, "I have not taken care of my own vineyard." This is a poignant confession. While tending to the affairs of others, her own personal cultivation, perhaps her beauty or her dowry, has been neglected. This is the state of every sinner before Christ finds them. We are forced into the hard labor of sin, serving cruel masters, and in the process our own souls, our own vineyards, are left barren and untended. We have nothing to bring to the King but our own sun-scorched ruin.

7 Tell me, O you whom my soul loves, Where do you shepherd your flock, Where do you make it lie down at noon? For why should I be like one who veils herself Beside the flocks of your companions?”

Her self-awareness does not lead to despair, but to a renewed search for her beloved. She addresses him as "you whom my soul loves," a tender and profound declaration. He is both a king (v. 4) and a shepherd. She wants to know where he is, where he pastures his flock, where he finds rest in the heat of the day. She wants to be with him. The reason she gives is telling: "For why should I be like one who veils herself?" A veiled woman in that context could be mistaken for a prostitute or a woman of ill repute, wandering among the flocks. She desires clear, public, and unambiguous fellowship with her beloved. She does not want to be mistaken for someone who does not belong to him. This is the cry of the true Church. She loves the true Shepherd and wants to be found where He is. She desires to be with His flock, under His care, and she wants her identity as His beloved to be clear to all, not hidden as if she were ashamed or had no right to be there.

Application

This opening chapter of the best song is a foundational text for a Christian understanding of love, desire, and identity. First, it teaches us that intense, passionate, physical desire is not sinful. It is a good gift from God, designed to be expressed with joy and poetry within the covenant of marriage. We must recover this robust, celebratory view of love against both the world's perversions and the church's fears.

Second, it shows us the proper object of our desire. The bride's love is not a vague feeling; it is directed toward a specific person whose character she admires. She loves him because he is worthy of love. Our affections must be trained by the truth. We love Christ because He is altogether lovely. His name, His character, is like precious oil. The more we know of Him, the more our souls will love Him.

Finally, it gives us a model for Christian self-awareness. Like the bride, we must be honest about our condition. We are sun-scorched. We have labored under cruel masters. We have neglected our own vineyards. We have no loveliness of our own to commend us to the King. But we are also lovely. This is the paradox of the gospel. We are lovely not because of what we are in ourselves, but because of who the King is and how He sees us. He has brought us into His chambers. He has declared us beautiful. And our response should be that of the bride: to confess our unworthiness, to glory in His love, and to seek His presence above all else, desiring that our union with Him be known by all.