Surprised by Joy: The Chariots of the Heart Text: Song of Solomon 6:11-12
Introduction: The Goodness of Gardens
The Song of Solomon is a book that makes our modern, sterile sensibilities nervous. It is intensely erotic, filled with poetic imagery that is lush, earthy, and unapologetic. And because we are the products of a dualistic age, an age that pits spirit against matter, we don't quite know what to do with it. The ancient interpreters, some of them, had a tendency to run from the earthiness and turn it all into a disembodied allegory. A woman's belly becomes the Sanhedrin, or her two breasts become the Old and New Testaments. But this is a hermeneutical panic attack. The other ditch, the modern one, is to say it is only about marital sex, a sort of inspired marriage manual, and to leave it at that, stripping it of any higher theological meaning. Both approaches are impoverished.
The way forward is to see the book for what it is: a series of intense, beautiful love poems between a man and a woman, which, because all lawful marriage is a picture of Christ and the Church (Eph. 5:32), finds its ultimate fulfillment in that great mystery. It is not an either/or; it is a both/and. The physical points to the metaphysical. The love between Solomon and his bride is a type, a glorious picture, of the love between Christ and His Church. This means we must take the physicality with utmost seriousness. God invented sex, and He declared it good. He also invented gardens, vineyards, and pomegranates. The whole creation is a theater of His glory, and the Song of Songs is set in the front row.
This book is crammed with pastoral imagery, not of wild, untamed nature, but of nature cultivated. It is about gardens, orchards, and vineyards. This is the imagery of dominion, of man and woman tending the creation as God assigned them to do. It is a picture of Edenic love, a love that is fruitful and ordered. The action here takes place in a garden, which is where everything good in the Bible begins. It is in a garden that the Shulamite bride seeks to evaluate the fruitfulness of her love, and it is there that she is overcome, surprised by the power of her own affections.
The Text
"I went down to the garden of nut trees
To see the blossoms of the valley,
To see whether the vine had flourished
Or the pomegranates had bloomed.
I did not know it, but my soul set me
Among the chariots of my noble people.”
(Song of Solomon 6:11-12 LSB)
The Diligent Gardener (v. 11)
We begin with the bride's descent into the garden in verse 11.
"I went down to the garden of nut trees To see the blossoms of the valley, To see whether the vine had flourished Or the pomegranates had bloomed." (Song of Solomon 6:11)
Here we have the Shulamite bride, having been praised lavishly by her beloved, turning her attention to the garden. This is not a passive stroll. This is an inspection. She goes down to "see," to check on the progress of the fruit. This is the language of stewardship. Love, in the Bible, is not a static emotion; it is a productive enterprise. A good marriage, like a good garden, must be tended. It requires diligence, care, and attention.
She is looking for signs of life and fruitfulness. Have the vines flourished? Have the pomegranates bloomed? Throughout this song, the lovers' bodies are described in garden-like terms. He has gone down to "his garden" to "gather lilies" (Song 6:2). She is a "locked garden," a "sealed fountain" (Song 4:12). This garden, then, is not just a literal place, but a picture of their love, their marriage, their covenantal union. She is examining the health of their relationship. Is it alive? Is it growing? Is it on the verge of bearing fruit?
This is a necessary question for every Christian marriage, and by extension, for the Church. We cannot simply rest on the memory of past affections. We must constantly be examining the state of our love. Is our love for Christ flourishing? Is the church blooming? Are we bearing the fruit of the Spirit, or have we allowed weeds of bitterness, neglect, or worldliness to creep in? The Shulamite's diligence is a model for us. She cares about the fruitfulness of her love, and so she goes down to see.
The Sudden Rapture (v. 12)
As she is inspecting the garden, something unexpected happens. Verse 12 is one of the more difficult verses to translate in the entire book, but the meaning is clear in its effect.
"I did not know it, but my soul set me Among the chariots of my noble people.” (Song of Solomon 6:12)
While she is dutifully, diligently checking on the state of things, her own soul, her desire, overtakes her. "I did not know it" or "before I was aware." This is not a calculated act. It is a sudden, overwhelming wave of affection and longing for her beloved. Her soul, her very being, transports her. It places her among the chariots of her noble people, or "Ammi-nadib." This is a picture of royalty, of glory, of swift and powerful movement. Chariots are instruments of war and symbols of royal power. Her desire for her king is so potent that it sweeps her away, as if in a glorious, unstoppable chariot.
This is a profound insight into the nature of sanctified desire. We often think of our spiritual lives as a grim, plodding march. We do our duties, we check the boxes, we inspect the vines. And that diligence is necessary. But God has designed us in such a way that in the midst of that faithfulness, joy can ambush us. Affection can erupt. Our own souls, awakened by grace, can suddenly place us in the glorious chariot of worship and praise, and we are carried away faster and further than our dutiful feet could ever have taken us.
This is what happens when a believer is going about his business, faithfully reading his Bible, and suddenly a verse leaps off the page and sets his heart ablaze. This is what happens when the church is singing a hymn, and the truth of the lyrics suddenly crashes over the congregation with renewed power. It is a holy rapture, a being "caught up." Duty led her to the garden, but desire put her in the chariot. The Christian life is meant to have both. Our faithfulness provides the context, the garden, in which these sudden blooms of divine affection can surprise us.
Christ, the Church, and the Chariots of God
As with the entire book, this points us ultimately to Christ and His bride, the Church. The Church is Christ's garden. He is the one who tends it, waters it, and causes it to grow. He comes down to His garden to see its fruit, to delight in His people (Song 6:2).
But we, as the bride, are also called to this diligence. We are to take stock of our love for Him. We are to examine ourselves, to see if the vine of our faith is flourishing, if the pomegranates of our good works are in bloom. This is the work of sanctification, the daily business of cultivating our love for God and for one another.
And in the midst of this, we are promised these moments of glorious surprise. As the Church is faithful in her duties, her soul is often swept up in a way she did not anticipate. Think of the great revivals in history. They often came not in times of idleness, but in times of diligent prayer, faithful preaching, and earnest seeking. Suddenly, the Spirit of God moves like a mighty chariot, and the people are carried into a new dimension of love and worship for their King.
Her soul set her among the chariots of "her noble people." The bride's desire unites her with the glorious company of the redeemed. Our personal affection for Christ is never a solo affair. When our soul is swept up in love for Him, we find ourselves standing with the entire host of heaven, the noble people of God, the Church triumphant. Our private worship joins the cosmic chorus. We are seated in the heavenly places with Christ Jesus, among the chariots of God, which are "twenty thousand, even thousands of thousands" (Psalm 68:17).
Conclusion: Cultivate and Wait for the Chariots
This passage gives us a beautiful rhythm for the Christian life. There is the diligent, faithful work of cultivation. We must go down to the garden. We must pull the weeds of sin. We must check for growth. We must be about the business of our sanctification. Love is a verb, and it requires work.
But we do not work for a wage. We work in hope, anticipating the fruit. And we work with the expectation that at any moment, "before we are aware," our souls might be set among the chariots. The sudden, overwhelming joy of the Lord might overtake us. He does not promise a life of constant emotional ecstasy. He promises that for those who are faithful in the garden, there will be moments when the chariots of God arrive to sweep them up in glory.
So, tend your garden. Tend the garden of your marriage. Tend the garden of your heart. Tend the garden of this church. Be diligent. See whether the vine has flourished. And do not be surprised when, in the middle of your faithful work, you find yourself surprised by joy, your soul caught up in the glorious, unstoppable, royal love of your King.