Fathers

Song of Solomon 5

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I have come into my garden, my sister, my bride. I have gathered my myrrh with my spice; I have eaten my honeycomb with my honey; I have drunk my wine with my milk. Eat, friends! Drink, yes, drink abundantly, beloved. I was asleep, but my heart was awake. It is the voice of my beloved who knocks: “Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled; for my head is filled with dew, and my hair with the dampness of the night.” I have taken off my robe. Indeed, must I put it on? I have washed my feet. Indeed, must I soil them? My beloved thrust his hand in through the latch opening. My heart pounded for him. I rose up to open for my beloved. My hands dripped with myrrh, my fingers with liquid myrrh, on the handles of the lock. I opened to my beloved; but my beloved left, and had gone away. My heart went out when he spoke. I looked for him, but I didn’t find him. I called him, but he didn’t answer. The watchmen who go about the city found me. They beat me. They bruised me. The keepers of the walls took my cloak away from me. I adjure you, daughters of Jerusalem, If you find my beloved, that you tell him that I am faint with love. How is your beloved better than another beloved, you fairest among women? How is your beloved better than another beloved, that you do so adjure us? My beloved is white and ruddy. The best among ten thousand. His head is like the purest gold. His hair is bushy, black as a raven. His eyes are like doves beside the water brooks, washed with milk, mounted like jewels. His cheeks are like a bed of spices with towers of perfumes. His lips are like lilies, dropping liquid myrrh. His hands are like rings of gold set with beryl. His body is like ivory work overlaid with sapphires. His legs are like pillars of marble set on sockets of fine gold. His appearance is like Lebanon, excellent as the cedars. His mouth is sweetness; yes, he is altogether lovely. This is my beloved, and this is my friend, daughters of Jerusalem.

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What the Fathers say

Song of Solomon 5:1

Eastern Fathers

Cyril of Jerusalem

The place of his burial was a garden.… What is he going to say who was buried in the garden? "I gather my myrrh, and my spices"; and again, "Myrrh and aloes with all the finest spices." These were the tokens of his burial, and in the Gospels it is said, "The women came to the tomb, taking the spices they had prepared," and "there also came Nicodemus, bringing a mixture of myrrh and aloes."

Catechetical Lecture 14:11 ↗

Western Saints

Ambrose of Milan

The groom descends, and delighted by the diversity of its fruits, he rejoices that he has found a stronger food, he has also found a sweeter one. For it is like a certain bread of the word, and honey: one speech is more forceful, another more persuasive. And there is another faith, more ardent, like wine: another, more clear, like the juice of milk. Christ feasts on this food within us, drinks this cup, and by the intoxication of his drink, he incites us to surpass lower things and strive for better and best things.

On Isaac and the Soul 5.49 ↗

Jerome

Indeed, it is written in another place: "Come my sister, my bride." Lest in the fact that it had said, bride, you should understand something shameful, sister is joined, so that all shameful love may be excluded. Come my sister: for the love is holy, and therefore I call you sister. And my bride: therefore I call you bride, so that I may have a wife, and from you make many sons, many sons like clusters from a vine. …

Homilies On The Psalms 42 (Psalm 127) ↗

Bede

Eat, my friends, and drink, etc. That is, you too who are my friends by doing what I have commanded you, are also most dear, embracing me with undivided love: therefore I beseech you to fill your hearts with the acts of the saints, as with the choicest feasts. And not only take care to recall these things to memory, but also turn the very memory of them to the fruit of imitation. …

Commentary on the Song of Songs ↗