The Gospel Sung in E Minor: The Shulammite's Desire Text: Song of Solomon 1:1-7
Introduction: The Unembarrassed Word
We live in an age that is simultaneously sex-saturated and profoundly embarrassed by sex. The world wants to drag sexuality out into the public square, strip it of all its covenantal glory, and parade it around like a cheap harlot. And in response, many well-meaning Christians want to lock it away in a dusty theological attic, as though it were a slightly shameful relative we don't mention in polite company. Both are profound errors. Both are a rejection of the goodness of God's creation.
Into this confusion, the Holy Spirit has given us the Song of Solomon. This book is not an allegory in the sense that the characters and events are fake, pointing to some ethereal, "spiritual" meaning up in the sky. No, this is a real poem about the real, earthy, passionate, and exclusive love between a real man and a real woman, within the bonds of marriage. But because all of creation is designed by God to be a theater of His glory, and because marriage is the ultimate icon of Christ and the Church, this very real love story is also a picture of that ultimate love story. It is a type. To deny the literal, erotic love here is Gnosticism. To deny the typological meaning is to be spiritually tone-deaf.
This book is God's Word. Therefore, it is holy, it is good, and it is necessary. It is a rebuke to the prude and a rebuke to the pervert. It teaches us that the world did not invent romance; God did. And He did not invent it as a footnote, but as a headline. The love between a man and his wife is not a distraction from the gospel; it is a declaration of the gospel. The man initiates, the woman responds. The man gives, the woman receives and glorifies. The man dies for his bride, and the bride becomes the glory of the man. This is the music of the universe.
So we must come to this text without embarrassment and without worldly titillation. We come to be instructed by God on the nature of holy desire, the beauty of covenantal love, and the shape of the gospel as it is lived out between two redeemed sinners. The book begins not with the man's voice, but with the woman's. It opens with a burst of pure, unadulterated desire. And in this, we find our first lesson.
The Text
The Song of Songs, which is Solomon’s.
"May he kiss me with the kisses of his mouth! For your love is better than wine.
Your oils have a pleasing fragrance, Your name is like purified oil; Therefore the maidens love you.
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."
"I am black but lovely, O daughters of Jerusalem, Like the tents of Kedar, Like the curtains of Solomon.
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.
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?"
(Song of Solomon 1:1-7 LSB)
The Best Song and the Best Love (v. 1-2)
The book opens with its title and the voice of the bride.
"The Song of Songs, which is Solomon’s. May he kiss me with the kisses of his mouth! For your love is better than wine." (Song of Solomon 1:1-2)
The title itself is a Hebrew superlative, "Shir ha-Shirim." This means it is the best song, the ultimate song. Solomon wrote 1,005 songs (1 Kings 4:32), and this is the one God saw fit to preserve as the pinnacle. It is the song of all songs because it deals with the love of all loves, which is the covenant love that images Christ and His Church. This is not just a song; it is the song.
And then, with no preamble, the Shulammite bride speaks. She does not begin with a polite greeting. She erupts with desire. "May he kiss me with the kisses of his mouth!" This is a raw, passionate longing for intimate communion. She wants the most direct, personal, and affectionate sign of love from her beloved. This is not a side-hug; it is a kiss on the mouth. It is the language of covenantal intimacy.
This is how the Church, the bride of Christ, should long for her Lord. Our desire for Christ should not be a stuffy, formal affair. It should be a deep, soul-level yearning for His presence, for His affection, for the assurance of His love. We should want to be kissed by the King.
She then gives the reason for her desire: "For your love is better than wine." Wine in Scripture is a symbol of joy, celebration, and earthly delight (Psalm 104:15). It makes the heart glad. But she says his love is better than the best this world has to offer. The love of the king, and ultimately the love of King Jesus, is a transcendent joy. It is a deeper, more satisfying gladness than any created thing can provide. This is the testimony of every true believer. We have tasted the world's wine, and we have tasted the Lord's love, and we can say with the Shulammite, "Your love is better."
A Famous Name and a Magnetic King (v. 3-4)
Her praise continues, focusing on his character and the effect he has on others.
"Your oils have a pleasing fragrance, Your name is like purified oil; Therefore the maidens love you. Draw me after you and let us run together! The king has brought me into his chambers." (Song of Solomon 1:3-4a)
Anointing oils in the ancient world were a sign of wealth, health, and festivity. His presence is a pleasing fragrance. But she moves from the external to the essential. His "name" is like purified oil. His name represents his character, his reputation, his very being. His character is pure, refined, and precious. It is not just that he wears a nice cologne; it is that he himself is a fragrant offering.
Typologically, the name of Christ is the sweetest fragrance in the universe. It is the name above every name. It is this name, this character, that makes him lovely. And notice the effect: "Therefore the maidens love you." A man of true character, a king of true renown, is attractive. His goodness draws others. This is not the shallow attraction of a pop star, but the deep admiration for genuine virtue. The maidens, the other attendants, see his worth and are drawn to him. This is not a threat to the Shulammite; it is a confirmation of her good taste. She has chosen a man whom all rightly admire.
This leads to her next plea: "Draw me after you and let us run together!" Here we see the divine interplay of sovereignty and response. She recognizes that he must be the one to initiate. "Draw me." This is the language of effectual grace. Jesus said, "No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him" (John 6:44). The bride knows she cannot come in her own strength. He must pull her. But she does not ask to be dragged. She asks to be drawn so that they might run together. His initiation enables her enthusiastic participation. This is the picture of sanctification. God draws, and we run. He leads, we follow with all our heart.
And where does he draw her? "The king has brought me into his chambers." This is the place of deepest intimacy and fellowship. It is the inner room, away from the crowds. The King has granted her privileged access. This is the joy of every believer whom Christ has drawn to Himself. He has not left us in the outer courts; He has brought us into the Holy of Holies by His blood.
Corporate Joy and Righteous Love (v. 4b)
The voice then shifts from the bride to the chorus of maidens, the "daughters of Jerusalem."
"We will rejoice in you and be glad; We will extol your love more than wine. Rightly do they love you." (Song of Solomon 1:4b)
The maidens, representing the broader community, celebrate this love. They do not envy it; they rejoice in it. A godly marriage is a public good. It is a blessing to the entire community. Their joy is not in the bride, but "in you", in the king. They recognize that he is the source of this blessing.
They echo the bride's earlier sentiment: "We will extol your love more than wine." This confirms that his love is objectively better than earthly pleasures. This is not just the bride's subjective opinion; it is a matter of public record. And then the final line of the verse, likely spoken by the chorus, affirms the whole situation: "Rightly do they love you." The love that the maidens have for the king is appropriate, fitting, and right. It is not a romantic love, but a deep respect and admiration for his righteous character. This is a crucial point. In a world drowning in sentimentalism, the Bible grounds love in righteousness. He is loved because he is lovely. He is admired because he is admirable.
Black, Lovely, and Hard-Pressed (v. 5-6)
The Shulammite speaks again, and her words are a startling mix of confidence and humility.
"I am black but lovely, O daughters of Jerusalem, Like the tents of Kedar, Like the curtains of Solomon. 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." (Song of Solomon 1:5-6)
Here is the paradox of the Christian life, the doctrine of simul justus et peccator, at the same time righteous and a sinner. "I am black but lovely." She is dark-skinned from hard labor in the sun. In that culture, this was not a mark of beauty, which was associated with the pale skin of the aristocracy who did not have to work outside. She is acknowledging her lowly status, her commonness. She is "black." But in the same breath, she declares she is "lovely." Why? Because the king has set his love upon her. Her loveliness is not inherent; it is bestowed. She is lovely because she is loved by him.
This is the Church's confession. We are black with sin, weathered and beaten by the fall. In ourselves, we have no beauty that He should desire us. But, we are lovely because Christ has washed us in His blood and declared us so. Our beauty is a reflected beauty. She compares this paradox to the tents of Kedar (dark, coarse goat hair) and the curtains of Solomon (intricate, beautiful tapestries). She is both at once.
She then explains her condition. "Do not look at me because I am swarthy." She is self-conscious about her appearance. The sun has burned her. This was not the result of a pleasant day at the beach. "My mother’s sons were angry with me; They made me caretaker of the vineyards." She has been mistreated, forced into harsh labor by her own family. This has caused her to neglect her "own vineyard", likely a reference to her own appearance or personal well-being. She has been so busy with the work forced upon her that she has not been able to cultivate her own life as she would have wished.
Here is a picture of the believer's life in this world. We are afflicted. We bear the marks of living in a fallen world, often mistreated even by those who should love us. We are often forced into labors that distract and weary us. And yet, even in this state of affliction, the King loves us. He is not looking for polished perfection. He is looking for faith.
A Longing for Rest and Refuge (v. 7)
Her speech concludes with a final, searching question directed to her beloved.
"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?" (Song of Solomon 1:7)
She calls him "you whom my soul loves." This is a deep, abiding affection. And her question is practical. She wants to know where he is. Specifically, where does he rest his flock at noon, during the heat of the day? She is seeking rest and refuge with him. She does not want to wander aimlessly among the other shepherds, his "companions."
To be "like one who veils herself" is to be like a prostitute, or at least to be mistaken for one. She wants to avoid any hint of impropriety. She wants to be found in his flock, under his care, in the place of rest he provides. Her desire is for exclusive, unambiguous fellowship with her shepherd-king.
This is the cry of the Christian soul. We love the Good Shepherd, Jesus Christ. And we long to be where He is, to find our rest in Him, especially during the heat and trial of the day. We do not want to wander about, seeking comfort from other sources, from the "companions." To do so is to act like a spiritual harlot. We want to be found in His presence, under His protection, clearly and publicly identified as His own. Our souls were made for this rest, and we will be restless until we find it in Him.
Conclusion: The Pattern of Divine Romance
This opening chapter sets the pattern for the entire book, and indeed, for the entire Christian life. It begins with a desire for intimacy with the King, a desire that He Himself has kindled. It acknowledges His supreme worthiness, a character so fragrant that all are rightly drawn to Him. It rejoices in His sovereign initiative to draw us to Himself, into the chambers of fellowship.
And it is honest about our condition. We are black, but He has made us lovely. We are afflicted, but He is our refuge. Our only proper response is to seek Him, to long for the rest that can only be found in His presence, under His care. This is not just a love song. This is the song of all songs, the music of redemption, the gospel sung in the key of covenantal love. It is the story of a glorious King who sets His affection on an unworthy but beautiful bride, and draws her to run with Him into everlasting joy.