Song of Solomon

Jesus lay on His sleeping mat staring at the flickering lamp dangling from its hanger on the wall adjacent to Peter; who was…. sitting next to John; both of them silenced, and memorized by (once) "dead man (now) walking" present here in quiet contemplation.

If only they could see what is all around them. Jesus smiled to Himself as He looked about at the throngs of angles collected for…. seemingly infinity; and thought of coming Pentecost.

They will then know as they are known. Jesus smiled at Peter and John, sighed in His own joy and rolled over to peer out the window.

For the joy that was set before Him endured the cross….

It had been a long…. day; if that's what He chose to think of it as now: all of time seemed to….. bleed together?

Jesus's thoughts were filled with the buzz of random snippets of the past nearly 4 years; angry pharisees, lepers, sinful women accused of multitudes of infractions of the law, soldiers, masses of humanity, as well as dead children He'd raised; all filtered through His memory.

Then of course the three days and three nights in the heart of the earth. Jesus shuttered as He thought of His Father's face Who sat on HIS throne, as the Lamb slain from the foundation of the world stood with outstretched hands and HE laid the scroll in them.

Yes, time and eternity bleed together in this one event.

Jesus closed His eyes and drifted off to sleep.

As the chaos cleared; verses long ago penned by Solomon floated by:

The song of songs, which is Solomon's.

Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth: for thy love is better than wine.

Because of the savor of Thy good ointments Thy name is as ointment poured forth, therefore do the virgins love Thee.

Draw me, we will run after thee: the King hath brought me into His chambers: we will be glad and rejoice in Thee, we will remember Thy love more than wine: the upright love Thee.

He locked the doors.

Look not upon me, because I am black, because the sun has looked upon me: my mother's children were angry with me; they made me the keeper of the vineyards; but mine own vineyard have I not kept.

Tell me, O Thou whom my soul loves, where Thou feed, where Thou make Thy flock to rest at noon: for why should I be as one that turns aside by the flocks of Thy companions?

She grinned hopefully.

If you know not, oh fairest among women, go your way following by the footsteps of the flock, and feed your kids beside the shepherds' tents.

We will make you borders of gold with studs of silver.

Behold, thou art fair, my love; behold, thou art fair; thou hast doves' eyes.

Behold, thou art fair, my beloved, yea, pleasant: also our bed is green.

The beams of our house are cedar, and our rafters of fir.

He innocently smiled in anticipation as He glanced about at the sanctity of the protective kingdom that now enclosed them. She was safe. They were safe.

She giggled and cried as she held out her arms.

Thank YOU so much; that it is finished. His wearied mind whispered as He too tried not to cry; but alas, a few happy tears escaped as He climbed up among the mounds of richest comfort.

While the King sits at His table, my spikenard sends forth the smell thereof.

A bundle of myrrh is my well-beloved unto me; he shall lie all night between my breasts.

As the apple tree among the trees of the wood, so is my Beloved among the sons. I sat down under His shadow with great delight, and His fruit was sweet to my taste.

He brought me to the banqueting house, and His banner over me was love.

Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples: for I am sick of love.

His left hand is under my head, and His right hand doth embrace me.

My beloved spoke and said to me, Rise up, My love, My fair one, and come away.

For lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone;

She wailed in hearty cries of glorious gratitude.

Behold, thou art fair, my love; behold, thou art fair; thou hast doves' eyes within thy locks: thy hair is as a flock of goats, that appear from mount Gilead.

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.

Thy lips are like a thread of scarlet, and thy speech is comely: thy temples are like a piece of a pomegranate within thy locks.

Thy neck is like the tower of David builded for an armory, whereon there hang a thousand bucklers, all shields of mighty men.

Thy two breasts are like two young roes that are twins, which feed among the lilies.

Until the day break, and the shadows flee away, I will get me to the mountain of myrrh, and to the hill of frankincense.

Thou art all fair, my love; there is no spot in thee.

Come with me from Lebanon, my spouse, with me from Lebanon: look from the top of Amana, from the top of Shenir and Hermon, from the lions' dens, from the mountains of the leopards.

Thou hast ravished my heart, my sister, my spouse; thou hast ravished my heart with one of thine eyes, with one chain of thy neck.

"OHH Thank YOU!" They both wailed as that which resurrected her soul flooded her being.

She was clean and now knew she was filled with life!

Thank YOU!

Jesus sat up… Well yes, He sucked in a deep breath; the day comes Father. He sighed as He looked around. The lamp was almost out of oil and everyone else in the room was in various states of consciousness.

Jesus giggled to Himself a bit as He got up and made His way outside.

How amazing is that? Jesus wondered as a world half shrouded in dreams, as well as jumbled recollections of dreams of real events; of which Jesus Himself was only vaguely aware of who's life they belonged to.

He strolled over, sat down in the glow of Michael's sword and looked up at the scroll that had unraveled itself across the cosmos. The surrounding landscape was filled with the glint of angelic sabers. An army waiting patiently for its next assignment. Jesus let out a bit of a chuckle.

"I haven't seen this many assembled, it seems; since the day I walked into the house of Simon the Pharisee." He commented to Michael.

"Well." Michael quietly admitted. "We were being cautious that day."

Jesus nodded, smiled, looked down at His hands, shuttered and then sighed.

"You're still having dreams; even now after all is finished?" Michael carefully inquired.

"The song of Solomon." Jesus laughed.

Michael flashed his Lord a puzzled look. "But…. isn't that where they….?"

"We." Jesus corrected before He giggled a bit more. "But Yeah." He nodded.

"You?" Michael inquired.

"Yes Me." Jesus confirmed.

"Joy of creating. I guess I don't understand." Michael shrugged.

"Joy of creating resurrected life yes." Jesus smiled and signed contentedly before He went on to explain. "Solomon wrote a real world metaphor of the song. The Paraclete, the Comforter. The channel in which We cleave to their souls. We will be one; just as I and the Father are one." His Lord paused a moment. "Yet all will be different in the new heavens and earth. The cleaving the earthly metaphor represents is also raised incorruptible." Jesus assured Michael with a brotherly pat on the back. "So don't worry. You won't be left out; at least not any more than I have been in this life." His Lord chuckled.

"For when that which is perfect is come; that which is in part shall be done away." Michael replied truthfully; yet still in the absence of his own angelic experience. He looked thoughtfully at his raised... yet still very human King. "Thank You for freeing all of us." Michael quietly whispered.

"My Father can't forsake the righteous. There are beings in this universe who have not fallen" Jesus replied as He gestured 'case in point' to Michael. "Evil is not omnipotent and God can not die."

"Yet You were terrified." Michael lent an observation.

"Very much so." Jesus confirmed. "The Triune God can not forsake Himself, but He can certainly forsake humanity."

"Yet You willingly died." Michael sucked in a sober breath. "Forsaking Your own humanity to redeem them."

"It was the only way." Jesus answered.

"So… what of Pentecost and Your…. dreams?" Michael puzzled some more, then chuckled. "The Spirit poured into their souls. You know, there are quite a few women around here who….. eh.. like You."

"There are many saints through the course of time who have; and, will find that they…. like… me." Jesus chuckled. "But all will be transformed in the new heavens and the new earth."

"Well, admittedly." Michael shrugged a bit anxiously of his own confusion. "Mary made me a little nervous."

"She loves Me." Jesus answered.

"Especially Your feet." Micheal muttered to himself.

His Lord only looked at him and burst out laughing.

"Was that a…. Ruth and Boaz thing?" Michael hesitantly inquired. "Uncover his feet?"

"Sort of." Jesus replied. "But more of: Deliver me from their trafficking schemes. Am I redeemable? Please tell me they have not buried me beneath the filth of their ritual abuses."

"You took her place?" Michael flashed his Lord a perplexed look.

"In a certain sense yes." Jesus answered.

"Lazarus ran out of the house. She followed him. You followed her…"

"And they followed Me." Jesus finished Michael's sentence. "Was I going to take on the town prostitute?"

"The prostitute that they created." Michael lent his sured observation.

"Yes, just like Hosea." Jesus confirmed. "He pleaded with Me over the heart break this caused him; but he understood in the end and Gomer realized he actually did love her." His Lord paused a moment. "Lazarus had hit a spark of revelation and ran to his sister Martha in Bethany; I pointed Mary to follow her brother."

"...when these things begin to come to pass, then look up, and lift up your heads; for your redemption draws near." Michael contemplatively interrupted, deeply immersed in reflective finger wagging, before he lent his next thought. "Of what they refused to see in her. She'd been freed by her kinsmen redeemer who, paid the price for her slavery. You took her place."

"Yes." His Lord nodded affirmingly.

"They read that in the law all the time. Yet, all of humanity, Jew included has prostituted themselves to a god who doesn't care." Micheal amended his observation. "All for the... twisted pleasure of..." He shrugged, as if to present his conclusion.

"Yes, they have." Jesus explained. "Yet God as Love transcends the only pleasure they can scrounge; even but for the flash of a second in all of eternity they ever feel its reflection. They worship the earthly metaphor, because all their rituals can't make God cleave to them. For as the Father raises up the dead, and quickens them; even so the Son quickens whom he wills."

"Buried beneath the filth of their... ritual abuses." Michael concluded.

"In more ways than one." His Lord added.

"Yes, I've noticed that through time." Michael observed. "The lust of their flesh pales sorely to the grandeur of genuine Love. Even for the couples who have some understanding; of those who've born witness that they actually belong to You, their longing for You remains an ever constant. Something the earthly metaphor will never fulfill."

"Life can't help but desire the breath that makes it alive." Jesus nodded. "Even I feel that same sense of overwhelm."

"And You are its source." Michael flashed his Lord a perplexed scowl. "But the Song of Solomon?" Michael pondered a bit more and then let out a chuckle. "When it happened, I kind of gathered; that You'd pulled a fast one on Solomon with it?"

"Confronted by this foreign woman on a quest to find her Maker." His Lord answered. "Yep; he never saw that coming."

"Did You realize it at the time it happened to You?" Michael popped out with a seemingly random question. "But even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from the Master's table." The angel parroted the desperate quote, started to laugh and then sighed as he peered back at his Lord. "You kind of had the same look on Your face Solomon did."

"Yes, these Greek women and Roman soldiers." Jesus snickered. "Here Son; the lost sheep of the house of Israel!" Jesus laughed. "But Father, they aren't Jewish?"

"Yes they are, look closer." Michael dryly amended his Lord's human revelation.

Jesus burst out laughing. "Just like Solomon wanted wisdom. Be careful what you pray for!"

Michael chuckled as he paused to gather in all this revelation.

"And Solomon spent the rest of his days trying to figure out where it all came from and why it left." Michael pondered in his perplexed angelic ignorance. "Of all that he had. Vanity of vanities; all is pointless. So he writes the book of Ecclesiastes."

"Like I said. He wanted wisdom." Jesus chuckled. "Be careful what you pray for."

"So he got Your perspective." Michael nodded. "A perspective he had no way of duplicating; so he wrote a book about it." Micheal shrugged. "And a rather erotic one at that."

"To conceive living fruit is the end game; 'ol king Sol; 'ol boy! And though you will get a glimpse into the pure joy of eternity; you will be too exhausted to rise once the night has passed." Jesus chuckled quietly and then sighed. "I was relieved when it was finished. Even though I could barely see the light. I knew the cosmos was still in tact. Release the spirit, let the body go to its rest."

"You were free and creation was ecstatic!" Michael soberly recounted. "We all collapsed in relief."

"Now you know why Solomon couldn't get up." His Lord peered at Michael and cracked a smile.

"Cosmic climax…." Micheal peered contemplatively back at his Creator. "I think… I get it now. I think?" He thought some more. "Or… at least as well as I ever will." He smiled in satisfaction, shrugged and then chuckled. "I can live with that."

"Well good; you're going to have to." Jesus laughed.

Michael sat for another moment of contemplation before he let out another chuckle himself.

"Well yes; as the proverb of even worldly understanding goes." Michael nodded in agreement. "It's not about getting what you want; it's about wanting what you've got!"

"Yet even you will get so much more than you ever knew you wanted." His Lord smiled back. "For the joy that was set before him." He giggled almost giddily while clapping His hands together like a little child.

"You too are looking forward to the recreated world." Michael smiled while the rest of the host cheered and then broke into song in reaction to the laughter of the raised One.

Somewhere in the glint of a profoundly grateful cosmos; Michael could actually hear God sing.

The Lord thy God in the midst of thee is mighty; He will save, He will rejoice over thee with joy; He will rest in His love, He will joy over thee with singing.

Zephaniah 3:17