Meditations on the Song of Songs-My Beloved had turned away and was gone
Meditations on the Song of Songs
The spiritual read this book and their love for God increases… but the carnal need a guide when reading it, lest they misunderstand it and turn its lofty meaning into worldly ones.
The subject of our previous meditation was:
“I arose to open for my Beloved, but my Beloved had turned away and was gone. My heart leaped up when He spoke. I sought Him, but I could not find Him; I called Him, but He gave me no answer.” (Song 5:5–6).
Let us continue our meditation on these same verses:
“My Beloved had turned away and was gone” — The Periods of Divine Withdrawal
This pampered soul had hands dripping with myrrh — not merely sprinkling perfume upon them, but immersing them in a vessel full of fragrant myrrh while lying on her bed, so that when she arose, her hands were “dripping with myrrh.”
This pampered and slothful soul had excused herself from rising for the Lord, saying, “I have taken off my robe; how can I put it on again? I have washed my feet; how can I dirty them?” This soul was more concerned with her comfort, her sleep, her adornment, her garments, and the cleanliness of her feet than with the Lord and making room for Him in her life.
When this pampered soul finally arose to open to the Lord, she did so late, and her Beloved had already turned away and passed by, leaving her to endure a bitter period of divine withdrawal. Grace had visited her, but then departed because of her laziness and negligence.
Grace often visits a person and watches how he responds to its work within him. If it finds him fervent in spirit, cooperating with the divine work, grace inflames him with love, and he becomes a partner of the Holy Spirit. But if he grows sluggish and careless, disregarding God’s call, grace departs — and he is left alone to taste the bitterness of withdrawal.
Let us give an example of this sloth that causes withdrawal.
You may awake from sleep and hear a deep voice within you saying, “Rise and pray. Speak with God first thing in the morning. Do not be lazy; do not neglect prayer as you did yesterday.” But you reply, “Yes, I will pray — after I wash my face, comb my hair, arrange my clothes, and take care of this or that.” Then many distractions occupy you, and your prayer becomes cold and distracted. You say with sorrow, “My Beloved has turned away and passed by,” remembering David’s words: “O God, You are my God; early will I seek You; my soul thirsts for You.”
How many times grace has touched our hearts, yet we were slothful — losing the feeling, the emotion, the warmth — and our Beloved turned away and passed by! Many have lost their opportunity because they rose to the Lord too late, like the foolish virgins who came after the door was shut. Why do we delay our response to the Lord? Had the soul, upon saying “The voice of my Beloved knocks,” risen quickly and opened even before He spoke, she would have enjoyed His presence and never wept saying,
“My soul failed when He spoke. I sought Him, but I could not find Him; I called Him, but He gave me no answer.”
It is indeed a wonder — the loving, compassionate God who says, “Before they call, I will answer,” is here described by the bride as not answering! The One who said, “Ask and you shall find,” is here sought but not found!
Love, my brethren, is the most sensitive of emotions and the most easily wounded. There is nothing more painful to the heart than to love someone who ignores you, to knock at his door and not be opened to. Thus the Lord said, “I was wounded in the house of My friends.”
The Lord had come to this soul, leaping upon the mountains and skipping upon the hills, speaking tenderly: “Open to Me, My sister, My love, My dove, My perfect one.” Yet she did not respond. Therefore, He withdrew, letting her experience distance from Him — perhaps because He had always been the one to seek her, she grew pampered and sluggish. Seeing that He was the one knocking, she became drowsy and lazy. As the saying goes, “When the offer is abundant, the desire lessens.”
So the Lord withdrew that she might yearn for Him; He left her that she might seek Him; He deprived her of love that she might no longer take it for granted; He let her taste the bitterness of distance that she might appreciate the sweetness of love.
Love, my daughter, is not a tax imposed on you, nor a duty you are forced to perform — it is longing and attraction. You do not wish to open to Me? Very well. I will leave you to your freedom until you realize the importance of My presence in your life and your need for communion with Me. Then you will regret your distance and return. And then you will know that the withdrawal was a spiritually beneficial experience.
Many experience these periods of divine withdrawal — feeling as if a great barrier stands between them and God. They feel alone, dry, without comfort. Their worship lacks emotion, warmth, love, spirit, connection, or response.
There are two kinds of people in times of withdrawal:
One type blames himself, not God, saying: “It is my fault. My ways have caused God to withdraw from me. I should return to my first relationship with Him. God, in His perfect love and abundant goodness, does not deserve such treatment from me. I will be reconciled to Him.”
The other type murmurs against God, protesting: “Where is Your mercy and love? Even if I sinned, why not forgive? Why treat me harshly?” Thus his sin grows worse. Others neither murmur nor repent, but forget God altogether, saying, “If You leave me, I will also leave You.” And thus, in his pride, he drifts further away.
Most often, divine withdrawal happens because of human fault. In the case of the bride of the Song, it was because of sloth and negligence. Another reason is pride.
A person may grow proud in heart, inflated by his inner self, thinking himself something. God’s mercy that preserved him from sin makes him feel sinless and above failure — imagining sin belongs only to beginners. Because of his pride, grace withdraws to show him his weakness.
Then, during withdrawal, he finds himself fallen into sins of beginners. He tries to pray but cannot, strives to repent but fails, and cries from the depths: “I sought Him but did not find Him; I called Him but He gave no answer.” He returns humbled, saying, “I am weak and poor, unable to fight even the smallest enemy.” This leads him to contrition and humility.
Then he learns that “a broken spirit is better than a proud truth.” Truly, before destruction comes pride, and before a fall, a haughty spirit. Pride is one of the causes of withdrawal.
Another cause is judging others.
Sometimes we condemn others for a certain sin, and God allows us to fall into the same sin so that we realize we are no stronger than they. We learn that our stability was due to grace, not our own power. We also understand the enemy’s might and cunning, and instead of condemning others, we have compassion for them.
Indeed, times of withdrawal give the heart compassion for sinners. It understands the meaning of the Apostle’s words: “Remember the prisoners as if chained with them, and those who are mistreated since you also are in the body” (Hebrews 13:3). Thus, seeing a fallen brother, one weeps for him as for himself. Saint John the Short, when he saw someone fall, wept, saying, “The enemy is strong. As he has cast down my brother today, he may cast me down tomorrow.”
Divine withdrawal may only appear to be real. It might simply be a trial in which God allows Satan to attack, while grace never truly departs. The person imagines he has fallen from God’s hand, but God, the Sovereign of all, watches deeply and surrounds him with grace so that he will not perish — as in the story of Job. He thought God had abandoned him, but it was not so, and God rescued him.
Sometimes withdrawal is part of God’s wise training.
It is like a mother teaching her child to walk — holding him for a few steps, then letting go so he falls and cries. She does not lift him immediately, allowing him to rise and try again. Were she to carry him always, he would never learn.
So too, birds teach their young to fly, and parents teach children to swim. Likewise, God trains us through withdrawal — teaching us to fight spiritually, recognize the devil’s strength and cunning, and understand human weakness.
Sometimes God permits withdrawal or even a fall into sin, so that one may gain greater caution, humility, and freedom from pride. Saint Basil says, “Gifts that come easily can be lost just as easily.” Therefore, God may seem distant, that we may labor for our spiritual gains — and once we attain them, we cherish them. Thus, when the bride of the Song found her Beloved after withdrawal, she said, “I held Him and would not let Him go.”
Article by His Holiness Pope Shenouda III — Al-Keraza Magazine, Year 6, Issue 11, March 14, 1975.
