Gregory of Nyssa
Nicene & Post-Nicene · AD 325–500 · 406 passages across 37 books
Commentary
A bundle of myrrh is my wellbeloved unto me; he shall lie all night betwixt my breasts.
Behold, thou art fair, my love; behold, thou art fair; thou hast doves' eyes.
I charge you, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes, and by the hinds of the field, that ye stir not up, nor awake my love, till he please.
The voice of my beloved! behold, he cometh leaping upon the mountains, skipping upon the hills.
By night on my bed I sought him whom my soul loveth: I sought him, but I found him not.
Who is this that cometh out of the wilderness like pillars of smoke, perfumed with myrrh and frankincense, with all powders of the merchant?
What then is their meaning? Perhaps the loveliness of the divine beauty has something fearful about it as characterized by elements contrary to corporeal beauty. What attracts our desire is pleasant to the sight, soft to the touch, and not associated with anything fearful or terrifying. But that incorruptible beauty is fearful, terrifying and not easily frightened. Since our desire for carnal things in the body’s members is subject to passion and defilement, like a band of robbers it ambushes the mind, captivates it and carries away the will. Therefore it becomes God’s enemy; as the apostle says, the wisdom of the flesh arises from what is inimical to God. It follows that the love of God arises from what is opposed to carnal desire. If carnal desire consists of weakness, laxity and laziness, the love of God is made up of a fearful, terrifying fortitude. An unrelenting anger scares and puts to flight the ambush resulting from pleasure, thus revealing the soul’s beauty as pure and no longer sullied by a desire for carnal pleasure. The king’s nuptial bed is therefore surrounded by armed…
He made the pillars thereof of silver, the bottom thereof of gold, the covering of it of purple, the midst thereof being paved with love, for the daughters of Jerusalem.
Thy teeth are like a flock of sheep that are even shorn, which came up from the washing; whereof every one bear twins, and none is barren among them.
How fair is thy love, my sister, my spouse! how much better is thy love than wine! and the smell of thine ointments than all spices!
Thy plants are an orchard of pomegranates, with pleasant fruits; camphire, with spikenard,
I sleep, but my heart waketh: it is the voice of my beloved that knocketh, saying, Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled: for my head is filled with dew, and my locks with the drops of the night.
I opened to my beloved; but my beloved had withdrawn himself, and was gone: my soul failed when he spake: I sought him, but I could not find him; I called him, but he gave me no answer.
The bride says, “I sought him, but found him not.” How can the bridegroom be found when he does not reveal anything of himself? He has no color, form, quality, quantity, place, appearance, evidence, comparison or resemblance. Rather, everything we can discover always transcends our comprehension and completely escapes our search. Therefore the bride says, “I have sought him by my soul’s capacities of reflection and understanding. He completely transcended them, and he escaped my mind when it drew near to him.”How can that which is always beyond everything we know be designated by a name? For this reason the bride understands every function of a name as a sign of the ineffable good. The significance of each word falls short and shows something inferior to the truth.… The soul thus calls the Word as best it can. It cannot do so as it wishes, for the soul desires more than it is capable of. The soul does not wish what it is incapable of receiving, such as God himself, but its choice is in accord with its wish. Since the one called is unattainable, the bride says, “I called him, but he d…
The soul thus calls the Word as best it can. It cannot do so as it wishes, for the soul desires more than it is capable of. The soul does not wish what it is incapable of receiving, such as God himself, but its choice is in accord with its wish. Since the one called is unattainable, the bride says, “I called him, but he did not answer.”
My beloved is white and ruddy, the chiefest among ten thousand.
All flesh implies birth, with marriage as the means for bringing it about. The person, however, who is not subject to a birth of flesh with respect to the mystery of religion does not submit to the actions effected by human nature or to the passions arising from the mind. He understands that the generation of the flesh belongs to all humankind. The bride says that he who partakes of flesh and blood is “white and ruddy.” However, by indicating the body’s nature by these two colors, she does not say that Christ partakes of that birth common to humankind. Rather, God assumed our human nature from the multitude of people he had begotten. From the passage of succeeding generations, Christ alone entered this life by a new form of birth. Nature did not cooperate in this birth but served it. Therefore, the bride says that her spouse is “white and ruddy.” That is, he dwells in this present life through flesh and blood while having been begotten from virginal purity. His conception is virginal. His birth is undefiled and without pangs. His bridal chamber is the power of the Most High overshado…
His eyes are as the eyes of doves by the rivers of waters, washed with milk, and fitly set.
His legs are as pillars of marble, set upon sockets of fine gold: his countenance is as Lebanon, excellent as the cedars.
Turn away thine eyes from me, for they have overcome me: thy hair is as a flock of goats that appear from Gilead.
My dove, my undefiled is but one; she is the only one of her mother, she is the choice one of her that bare her. The daughters saw her, and blessed her; yea, the queens and the concubines, and they praised her.