The Bride's Dowry: My Own Vineyard Text: Song of Solomon 8:11-12
Introduction: Two Economies, Two Vineyards
The Song of Solomon is, on one level, the most glorious love poem ever written between a man and a woman. It is earthy, passionate, and unashamedly physical, a necessary rebuke to all the Gnostic spiritualizers who want a faith with no body. But if that is all we see, we have missed the forest for the trees. The apostle Paul tells us that the union of a man and a woman is a profound mystery because it points to Christ and the Church (Eph. 5:32). This Song, therefore, is the ultimate love song between the Divine Husband and His chosen Bride. It is a story of redemption, courtship, and consummation.
As we come to the end of this book, the Shulamite bride, now secure in her love, speaks with a newfound authority. She is no longer just the recipient of love; she is a fruitful steward of that love. And here, in these two short verses, she draws a sharp contrast between two ways of managing a vineyard, which is to say, two ways of living in the world. She contrasts the vineyard of Solomon with her own vineyard.
This is not just about agriculture. It is about economics, it is about covenant, and it is about worship. Solomon's vineyard at Baal-hamon represents one kind of kingdom, one kind of economy. It is the economy of the world. It is large, impersonal, managed by hirelings, and driven by a fixed, contractual obligation. It is the economy of law, of quotas, of mammon. But the Bride has a vineyard of her own. It is an economy of grace, of delight, of personal devotion. Her vineyard is not a distant holding, but is "before me." It is her own heart, her own life, her own domain of responsibility given to her by her Beloved. And its fruitfulness is not coerced; it overflows in lavish generosity.
We live in a world that only understands the logic of Solomon's vineyard at Baal-hamon. It understands contracts, taxes, and the bottom line. It thinks in terms of power and multitudes. The Church, however, is called to cultivate a different kind of vineyard. We are called to a fruitfulness that the world cannot comprehend, a generosity that looks like foolishness, and a love that is not for hire. These two verses set before us the choice between being a mere tenant of the world's system or a joyful owner-steward in the kingdom of God.
The Text
Solomon had a vineyard at Baal-hamon;
He gave the vineyard to caretakers.
Each one was to bring one thousand shekels of silver for its fruit.
My very own vineyard is before me;
The thousand shekels are for you, Solomon,
And two hundred are for those who take care of its fruit.
(Song of Solomon 8:11-12 LSB)
The Hired Vineyard of the King (v. 11)
First, the Bride describes the worldly system, the economy of the flesh, represented by Solomon's commercial enterprise.
"Solomon had a vineyard at Baal-hamon; He gave the vineyard to caretakers. Each one was to bring one thousand shekels of silver for its fruit." (Song of Solomon 8:11)
Solomon, the great king, the son of David, represents the old order. He is the Christ-figure in this drama, the Beloved, but here he is also presented in his earthly capacity as a king who runs a kingdom. And how does this kingdom operate? He has a vineyard at a place tellingly named "Baal-hamon." This means "lord of a multitude" or "master of wealth." This is the kingdom of bigness, of crowds, of impersonal transactions. It is the corporate farm, the state-run enterprise, the top-down bureaucracy.
Notice that Solomon is an absentee landlord. "He gave the vineyard to caretakers." He is not there, tending the vines himself. He has leased it out to tenants. Their relationship to the vineyard, and to Solomon, is purely contractual. It is a business arrangement. This is the spirit of the hired hand, not the son. The hired hand works for wages; he does what is required and nothing more. He has no love for the sheep, or in this case, the vines.
And the requirement is rigid: "Each one was to bring one thousand shekels of silver for its fruit." This is the language of law, of taxation, of debt. The fruit of the vineyard is not first a cause for celebration and feasting; it is a commodity to be weighed, measured, and monetized to pay off a king. This is the economy of the Old Covenant, which came with blessings and curses, demands and obligations. It is the parable of the wicked tenants in Matthew 21, who owed the owner the fruit of the vineyard. It is a system that runs on "you must." It produces, yes, but it does so under compulsion. This is the religion of the world: do your duty, pay your dues, meet your quota, and hope the master is satisfied.
The Beloved's Vineyard of the Heart (v. 12)
In glorious contrast, the Bride speaks of her own vineyard. This is the economy of the New Covenant, the logic of grace.
"My very own vineyard is before me; The thousand shekels are for you, Solomon, And two hundred are for those who take care of its fruit." (Song of Solomon 8:12 LSB)
The first thing to notice is the radical shift in ownership and location. "My very own vineyard is before me." It is not a distant property managed by others. It is hers. The Beloved has given it to her. This is the Church, the Body of Christ, and it is also the heart of every individual believer. Christ does not lease us out; He purchases us with His own blood and makes us His own possession. Our life, our family, our work, our patch of ground, this is our vineyard. And it is "before me," right in front of us. It is our immediate, personal, delightful responsibility. We are not hirelings; we are owner-stewards. We are cultivating our own garden, and we do it out of love for the one who gave it to us.
And look at the fruit! She says, "The thousand shekels are for you, Solomon." What does this mean? First, it means the economy of grace is wildly more productive than the economy of law. The Bride, working out of love and delight in her own garden, joyfully produces what the law required, and more. She is not paying a tax or a debt. She is offering a tribute of love. She says, in effect, "That thousand shekels the law required? Here it is, my love, and it is my joy to give it to you. My obedience is not a grudging payment; it is a glad gift." Grace does not abolish the law's demands; it joyfully fulfills and exceeds them from the heart (Romans 8:4).
But she does not stop there. The generosity overflows. "And two hundred are for those who take care of its fruit." This is stunning. After giving the King His full due, there is a surplus. And what does she do with it? She gives a twenty percent bonus to the caretakers. Who are these caretakers? They are the ministers, the elders, the teachers who labor in the vineyard of the Church (1 Timothy 5:17-18). They are the fellow workers who help cultivate the fruit. In the economy of grace, not only is the King honored, but His servants are generously rewarded. The river of God's grace is so full that it overflows its banks. This is the principle of cheerful, bountiful giving that Paul speaks of in 2 Corinthians 9. He who sows bountifully will also reap bountifully.
The world's system, Baal-hamon, is a closed loop of obligation. It extracts what it is owed. The Bride's vineyard is a fountain of generosity. It produces not just enough, but more than enough. This is the postmillennial vision in miniature. As the Church, the Bride of Christ, cultivates her vineyard in joyful obedience, she will produce a cultural harvest so rich that it will not only honor the King but will also provide abundantly for all who labor with her. This is how we take the world. Not by becoming absentee landlords of a vast, impersonal system, but by each of us tending our own small vineyard with such love and diligence that the fruitfulness becomes undeniable and overflows to bless the world.
Conclusion: Tending Your Garden
So the question comes to each one of us. Which vineyard are you working in? Are you living your Christian life like a tenant farmer at Baal-hamon? Is your service to God a matter of grimly trying to meet a quota? Is your giving a tax you resentfully pay? Is your obedience a contractual obligation you perform to keep the landlord off your back? That is the religion of the world, and it is a miserable, barren existence.
Or have you understood that, in Christ, you have been given your very own vineyard? Your life is not a rental. It is a gift, purchased and bestowed by the King who loves you. He has made you a steward of your own heart, your own home, your own work. And He asks you to cultivate it "before you," with delight and with love. He is not a distant king demanding silver. He is the Beloved who walks with you in the garden in the cool of the day.
When you grasp this, your work becomes worship. Your fruitfulness becomes a joy. And your giving becomes an overflowing generosity. You will gladly give the King His thousand shekels, fulfilling all righteousness with a glad heart. And out of the abundance He produces through you, you will find yourself with a surplus, a bonus of two hundred shekels to bless those who labor alongside you. This is the logic of the kingdom. This is the economy of grace. Christ has not made you a hired hand. He has made you His Bride, and has given you a glorious vineyard. Go, therefore, and tend it with joy.