Meditations on the Song of Songs – Who is this coming up from the wilderness?!
Meditations on the Song of Songs
The spiritual ones read this book and increase in their love for God. But the carnal ones, when reading it, need a guide lest they misunderstand it and descend from its lofty meaning to worldly interpretations.
Our contemplation today in the Song of Songs is on a phrase that the Lord said about His Church, mentioned twice in the book:
“Who is this coming up from the wilderness like pillars of smoke, perfumed with myrrh and frankincense, with all the powders of the merchant?” (Song 3:6)
“Who is this coming up from the wilderness, leaning upon her beloved?” (Song 8:5)
Who is this coming up from the wilderness?!
Who is this coming up from the wilderness? Contemplate the beauty of the Church, or the beauty of the human soul, rising from the wilderness, rising in beauty, perfumed with myrrh and frankincense and all the powders of the merchant, like pillars of smoke ascending from the censer.
A song sung for the Church of the Old Covenant
The phrase “coming up from the wilderness” may refer to the Church of the Old Testament, the Church that came up from Sinai and journeyed toward Canaan, leaning upon the arm of her Beloved.
The journey of the Church in the wilderness was truly wondrous—they went out without food, drink, clothes, or any means of provision. They departed simply in the name of God. They set their feet into the sea, leaning on the arm of their Beloved who upholds. He held the waters on one side and the other, and the Church walked through the sea leaning on her Beloved and lived in the wilderness.
They lived by faith—faith that sees the unseen. And in every heart rang the Lord’s words: “And you shall remember that the Lord your God led you all the way these forty years in the wilderness… Your garments did not wear out on you, nor did your foot swell… that He might make you know that man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God.” (Deut. 8:2–4)
Truly, the one who lives by faith, leaning on his Beloved, can experience the wonders of God’s work with him. The Lord can bring forth water from the rock, turn bitter water sweet, divide the sea, and show His protection—covering by a cloud by day, and a pillar of fire by night. He can guard from all enemies: Og king of Bashan and Sihon king of the Amorites fell before them. Thousands may fall at his side and ten thousand at his right hand, but evil cannot come near him. The sun shall not strike him by day nor the moon by night. Such is the one who leans on his Beloved.
Our problem in life is that we do not lean on our Beloved. We may lean on our talents, our strength, our intelligence, our wealth—or on human arms or wisdom—or even the deceit of the devil and his tricks…
The one who leans on God can, like the three young men, walk in the fiery furnace and not be burned. The fire surrounded them, yet had no power over their bodies—“not even a hair of their head was singed.” This happened because they leaned on their Beloved, who walked with them in the fire, one “like the Son of God.” (Dan. 3:25, 27)
Perhaps the angels at that moment looked upon each of the three young men’s souls as they sang: “Who is this coming up from the wilderness, leaning upon her beloved?” They came out of the fire as if emerging from a garden or paradise.
David the Prophet experienced leaning upon his Beloved when he said: “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul; He leads me in paths of righteousness.” And what else? “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.” Why? “For You are with me.”
I lean upon the arm of my Beloved. Likewise, the Church in the world lives leaning upon her Beloved. Notice that it says “leaning upon her Beloved,” not “upon the Mighty or the Strong.” Truly, He is mighty and strong—but the phrase “her Beloved” carries its own power, for “love is as strong as death; many waters cannot quench love.” (Song 8:6–7) And because He loves us, He works all things for our good—with strength and power.
The soul that leans on her Beloved lives in peace, singing to the Lord: “Though an army encamp against me, my heart shall not fear; though war rise against me, in this I will be confident.” Why are you confident, O soul? Because “I am leaning on my Beloved—His left hand is under my head, and His right hand embraces me.” (Song 2:6)
Truly, the soul that lives in God’s embrace is joyful and serene. Whatever obstacles she meets, she is unshaken and says in the confidence of one leaning on her Beloved: “If God is for us, who can be against us?”
A song sung for the victorious Church
This hymn may also be sung in welcome of the victorious Church—the Church that lived in the barren wilderness, toiling and suffering in the narrow way, entering the kingdom through the narrow gate. Thus the angels greet her saying, “Who is this coming up from the wilderness?”
The world was a wilderness to her—barren of worldly pleasures, delights, and vain distractions. For her Lord said: “Do not love the world or the things in the world.” And she answered with the psalm: “My flesh longs for You in a dry and thirsty land where there is no water.” (Ps. 63:1)
This Church comes up from the wilderness, to be caught up by God in the clouds, to be with the Lord forever.
Who is this coming up from the wilderness? She did not live in gardens and paradises as Solomon did when he indulged himself in worldly riches, saying: “I built myself houses and planted vineyards… I made myself gardens and orchards… I gathered silver and gold… I acquired male and female singers and the delights of the sons of men… Whatever my eyes desired I did not keep from them.” (Eccl. 2)
But the Church refused to take her good things on earth. She labored on earth to rejoice in heaven. She lived on earth in the spirit of poor Lazarus—poor, yet leaning on the arm of her Beloved, as St. Paul said: “As poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, yet possessing all things.” (2 Cor. 6:10)
A song sung for the saints of the wilderness
This hymn can also be said of the saints who filled the wilderness with prayers, praises, and hymns—their prayers ascending from the desert.
Every day they sang a new song to the Lord, and the angels whispered in their ears: “Bless the Lord, all you servants of the Lord, who stand by night in the house of the Lord… Lift up your hands in the sanctuary and bless the Lord.” (Ps. 134)
The angels looked upon the prayers of these saints rising from the wilderness and said to the Lord: “Blessed are those who dwell in Your house; they will still be praising You.” (Ps. 84:4)
Worldly people—even when they enter church—may let their thoughts wander to earthly matters during prayer. But these saints—even if occupied with something worldly—would let their hearts wander in God.
They lived in the barren desert without aid, leaning on their Beloved. They sanctified the wilderness by their prayers and lives until it became a second heaven, drawing seekers of the spirit from all corners of the earth. They lived in constant prayer and were called “earthly angels” and “heavenly humans.” When their holy souls ascend to heaven, surely the angels rush to greet them, exclaiming: “Who is this coming up from the wilderness?”
Solomon the Wise, author of the Song, perhaps in a dream or vision saw the multitudes of hermits and monks coming up from the wilderness, and received them with this hymn.
John Cassian, when he visited the Egyptian desert, said that the traveler from Alexandria to Thebes could hear no silence along the way—only continuous hymns and praises, for everywhere were monasteries, cells, and caves inhabited by saints who loved the Lord, loved solitude, and lived as angels on earth.
Every span of that holy land was blessed and consecrated by their prayers and psalms. Even the grains of sand were sanctified, touched by their pure feet.
This holy life—rising from the wilderness like pillars of smoke ascending to God’s throne—makes the heavenly hosts cry out: “Who is this coming up from the wilderness?”
The life the world witnessed in the deserts of Egypt during the fourth and fifth centuries seemed like a dream. We now hear of it as though it were a story! How mightily grace worked in those saints’ souls, with such depth and power. Their spirits were daily ascending and descending on the ladder of Jacob—and at every rung, the heavenly beings marveled and cried: “Who is this coming up from the wilderness?”
What a wondrous sight—to see angels descending from heaven to earth—but even more wondrous to see humans in angelic form ascending from earth to heaven! Not just a few individuals, but multitudes, all sharing the same image of holiness, purity, chastity, and humility. All cry out together at this vision: “Who is this coming up from the wilderness?”
And the great marvel is that those ascending like angels still had physical bodies and lived amid this world and its temptations. They were human, with weaknesses like ours, yet they lived as the image and likeness of God.
They entered the fire like the three young men and were not burned, but rose from it like pillars of smoke, perfumed with myrrh and frankincense.
This is the Church coming up from the wilderness. The wicked descend downward, but the righteous rise upward. Thus the Church is always ascending.
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