Unashamed Affection: The Power and Preciousness of Love Text: Song of Songs 8:1-4
Introduction: Love in a Shameless Age
We live in a world that is confused about love, and particularly about the public expression of it. On the one hand, we have the lingering ghost of a Victorian prudishness, a Gnostic suspicion of the body that wants to keep all affection locked away in the dark, as though it were slightly shameful. On the other hand, and far more dominant today, we have a culture of shamelessness. Our world parades its perversions in the streets and calls it love. It mistakes vulgarity for honesty and exhibitionism for freedom. It has cheapened love, sex, and affection by making them public commodities, stripped of all covenantal context and therefore stripped of all meaning.
Into this profound confusion, the Word of God speaks with startling clarity and beauty. The Song of Solomon is not a book for the prudish, nor is it a book for the shameless. It is a book about holy passion. It is a celebration of the goodness of God's created design for love between a man and a woman, a love that is both intensely private and yet longs for public legitimacy. This is not a contradiction. True love is not ashamed, but neither is it shameless. It understands the sacredness of the marriage bed, and it also understands the glory of a love that can be honored in the sight of all men.
This passage is about that very tension. The bride expresses a deep longing for a kind of public intimacy that is currently denied her, an affection that can be displayed without shame or scorn. And in this, she gives voice to the deepest longings of the Church for her Bridegroom, Jesus Christ. We love Him now, in private devotion and in the gathered worship of the saints. But the world looks on and despises our affection for Him. We are fools in their eyes. And so we long for the day of His appearing, the great wedding feast of the Lamb, when our love will be vindicated, and our public kiss will be the most natural and glorious thing in the universe.
This is a song about a love that is patient, but not passionless. It is a love that understands timing, but still burns with a holy fire. It is a love that is secure in the private embrace, but yearns for the public Amen.
The Text
"Oh that you were like a brother to me Who nursed at my mother’s breasts. If I found you outside, I would kiss you; No one would despise me, either. I would lead you and bring you Into the house of my mother, who used to teach me; I would give you spiced wine to drink from the sweet wine of my pomegranates. Let his left hand be under my head And his right hand embrace me.” “I call you to solemnly swear, O daughters of Jerusalem, Why should you arouse or awaken my love Until she pleases?"
(Song of Songs 8:1-4 LSB)
The Longing for Legitimate Affection (v. 1)
The bride begins with a startling wish:
"Oh that you were like a brother to me Who nursed at my mother’s breasts. If I found you outside, I would kiss you; No one would despise me, either." (Song of Songs 8:1)
We must immediately dispense with any modern, Freudian nonsense here. The bride is not wishing for an incestuous relationship. That is to read our own cultural filth back into the text. She is using a powerful cultural illustration to make a point about legitimacy. In the ancient Near East, the public display of romantic affection between a man and a woman was scandalous. It was reserved for the private chambers. But the affection between a brother and sister, who grew up together, nursed from the same mother, was perfectly acceptable. A sister could greet her brother in the marketplace with a kiss, and no one would bat an eye. It was normal, familial, and honorable.
Her cry is this: "I wish our relationship had the same public standing as that of a brother and sister. I wish our love was so recognized, so established, so unquestioned, that I could show you my affection openly, in the daylight, without anyone despising me." She is not ashamed of her love; she is frustrated by the world's inability to see it for what it is. She longs for her private passion to have public validation.
And is this not the cry of the Church? We love the Lord Jesus. But when we speak of Him, when we sing to Him, when we order our lives around Him, the world despises us. They see our devotion as weakness, our worship as foolishness, our obedience as slavery. We are, to them, pitiable and strange. But we long for the day when our Bridegroom returns. On that day, our love will be the central reality of the new creation. Every knee will bow, and every tongue will confess that Jesus Christ is Lord. Our kiss of adoration will not be despised; it will be the universal anthem of a redeemed cosmos. We long for the day when our love for Christ is no longer a scandal to the world, but the very grammar of reality.
The Hospitality of Covenant Love (v. 2)
Her longing then moves from the public square to the private home, the place of her origins.
"I would lead you and bring you Into the house of my mother, who used to teach me; I would give you spiced wine to drink from the sweet wine of my pomegranates." (Song of Songs 8:2)
The "house of my mother" is the place of her heritage, her upbringing, her deepest identity. It is where she was taught and nurtured. To bring her beloved here is to welcome him into the very foundation of her life. It is an act of total, unreserved welcome. She is not compartmentalizing her life. Her love for him is not a separate room; it is the master of the whole house.
Notice the mention of her mother as the one "who used to teach me." This is covenantal. This is about heritage and wisdom passed down. She is bringing her husband into the stream of covenant faithfulness that she herself was raised in. This is not a rebellion against her past, but the glorious fulfillment of it.
And there, in that place of covenantal intimacy, she would serve him the very best she has. Spiced wine, the juice of her pomegranates. Pomegranates, with their abundance of seeds, were a symbol of fruitfulness and blessing. She is offering him the richest, most delightful fruits of her life. This is worshipful hospitality. It is an picture of a wife delighting in her husband, and of the Church delighting in her Lord.
We bring Christ into our "mother's house," into the heritage of the faith once for all delivered to the saints. We welcome Him into every corner of our lives. And we offer Him our best. Our worship is not a grudging duty; it is the spiced wine of our adoration. The fruit of the Spirit in our lives is the pomegranate juice we joyfully offer up to Him. We give Him our best because He is worthy of our best.
The Security of the Embrace (v. 3)
From the desire for public legitimacy and private hospitality, she moves to the reality of her present security in his love.
"Let his left hand be under my head And his right hand embrace me." (Song of Songs 8:3)
This is a refrain in the Song, a recurring description of perfect peace, security, and intimacy. It is a posture of absolute rest. She is held. She is secure. She is cherished. His left hand supports her head, the seat of her thoughts and worries. His right hand, the hand of power and action, embraces her. She is completely enveloped in his strength and tenderness.
This is not the frantic, grasping insecurity of worldly romance. This is the deep, quiet confidence of covenantal love. She belongs to him, and he belongs to her, and in that mutual possession, there is profound rest.
For the believer, this is the heart of our relationship with Christ. We rest in His finished work. His sovereign strength supports us, and His tender love embraces us. We can cease our striving, our worrying, our attempts to justify ourselves. We are held. Paul says that nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus. This is that truth expressed in the language of intimate love. We are secure in the everlasting arms.
The Sacred Discipline of Timing (v. 4)
After this crescendo of longing and security, the bride turns to the onlookers, the "daughters of Jerusalem," and issues a solemn charge.
"I call you to solemnly swear, O daughters of Jerusalem, Why should you arouse or awaken my love Until she pleases?" (Song of Songs 8:4)
This is the third time this charge appears in the Song, and its placement here is crucial. Right after expressing her intense desire for a public consummation of her love, she warns against impatience. Love is a holy fire. It is powerful, and it is dangerous if mishandled. It must not be stirred up or awakened before its proper time. The "she" at the end refers to love itself. Love has its own timing, its own season, appointed by God.
This is a direct assault on the entire modern ethos of "follow your heart." Our culture tells us that any authentic desire must be acted upon immediately. But Scripture teaches the discipline of desire. This is a call to patience, to wisdom, to honor the covenantal boundaries and the God-ordained timing of love. You do not play with this fire. You do not try to force it or manipulate it. You wait for the Lord.
The application for our courtship and marriages is plain. Do not awaken sexual intimacy before the covenant of marriage. Do not rush the process. Let love mature within the framework of wisdom, family, and covenant. But the application for the Church is just as potent. We long for the return of Christ. We groan, waiting for the redemption of our bodies. But we must not become presumptuous. We cannot force the eschaton. We are not to be date-setters or wild-eyed fanatics who try to "awaken" the final events before the Father's appointed time.
Our posture is one of patient passion. We burn with love for our King, and we wait for His appearing. We are to be faithful in our vocations, diligent in our worship, and patient in our waiting. We trust His timing, because His timing is perfect.
Conclusion: Patient Passion
So what do we take from this? We see the proper posture of the Christian life. It is a life of unashamed affection for Jesus Christ. It is a life of longing for the day when that affection will be publicly vindicated. It is a life of bringing Christ into every room of our heritage and offering Him the best of what we have. It is a life of profound security, resting in His embrace.
And it is a life of disciplined waiting. We are not stoics, devoid of passion. And we are not romantics, driven by every emotional whim. We are the bride of Christ. And the bride waits for the groom. She makes herself ready. She keeps the fire of her love burning, but she waits for him to come for her at the appointed time.
Let us love our Lord with this kind of holy passion. Let us be unashamed of Him in a world that despises Him. Let us rest securely in His arms. And let us wait with joyful patience for that great day when He will call us to the wedding feast, and our love will at last be awakened, fully and forever, when He pleases.