Make haste, my Beloved, and be Thou like to a roe or to a young hart upon the mountains of spices (Song of Solomon 8:14).
This wonderful song now ends with an expression of intense desire on the part of the bride-elect, imploring her Beloved to come back for her. As she began the song, so she ends it, with words of great affection. The bride has had her ups and downs in the circumstances and experiences of life, but none can doubt where her affections lie and what is uppermost in her spiritual desires. The song ends on the same note as the last book of the Bible: “Even so, come, Lord Jesus” (Revelation 22:20). All of us should have that cry rising from the deepest affections within our hearts—”Make haste, my Beloved.”
The Title She Gives Him
“My Beloved” seems to have been her favorite endearment of Him throughout the entire song. She delights in it. She uses it as a vehicle to express her affection for Him. There is no rival and no other on the horizon.
Now there are many who believe in the Lord and who indeed have believed unto salvation, but do they really, really, love Him? Do the heart’s affections flow out spontaneously and vigorously from the heart? There are many whose chief interest is doctrine, or prophecy, or history, or works, but one can have these interests and yet be without very much love for Him. The true knowledge of the Lord will surely generate love.
And please note the personal “my.” She says He is my Beloved—not beloved to all the world, for the vast majority love Him not. But the elect bride has rich experience of His love and distinguishes Him far above all others. These two words plainly tell us who belongs to the company called the bride, and they are the epitome of spiritual rhetoric. Wonderful words! Most excellent title!
The Request She Makes of Him
“Make haste, my Beloved.” She is doubtless referring to His second coming. This is a true bridal heart. She longs and pants after that day when He will come to join her to Himself in marital union. This is her last petition: her last prayer, as John, the lover of the Lord, closes the book of the Revelation. She would have Him return as speedily as possible. Great love begets great longing, and great longing can at times be impatient. Yet He cannot come before the time appointed by the Father. But we can be assured He will not delay a moment beyond that appointed time. She would not have Him come sooner than that, but she does long that all that is necessary to be accomplished previous to His coming may speedily be fulfilled.
Let us remember, though none of us need reminding of it, that our present circumstance is in a filthy, hostile world which hates all that is of God and which has expressed its hostility in the crucifixion of the Lord Jesus and by the martyrdom of millions of His people. Our lot is cast in a godless world among a godless people, all the doings of whom vex the righteous soul of the saints.
It is not only the world without but the state of the professed church within which is a sore grief to those of mature bridal affections. This big thing called Christendom is riddled through with heretical teachings, meaningless ceremonies, and satanic delusions. It is honeycombed with worldliness and shot through with attitudes which ignore and insult the Lord of glory. “O Lord,” His loved one cries, “How long? Make haste, my Beloved.”
The real Church desires His coming so that “the dead in Christ” shall rise and be clothed with bodies of glory. Then there shall be an end to pain and heartache; there shall be no more curse; then “God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away” (Revelation 22:3; 21:4).
But it is not to escape this filthy house nor its pain and suffering which inspired this bride. It is rather that her eyes see something of the Bridegroom-Lover in His glory. “Him hath God exalted.” Surely our eyes should long to see Him in His exaltation.
The Place From Which She Calls Him
“Be Thou like to a roe or to a young hart upon the mountains of spices.” She wants Him to come speedily. The creatures mentioned here, as she has before mentioned them in 2:9, are remarkable for their swiftness. But there are other reasons, too. The roe and the hart are pleasant and delightful, and the Lord is full of such sweet virtues. His love for His bride has been proved for its reality and strength and unchangeable character. It is clearly exhibited in His sacrifice in order to make her His. In His Person, in His offices, in His virtues, in His works, in all His ways He is most excellent.
The place where He now is, is referred to as the mountain of spices. There is mention of not a few mountains in this song—“the mountains of Bether” in 2:17, which may refer to His first coming; “the mountains of the leopards” in 4:8, which no doubt refers to the fierce opposition to Him in the days of His flesh; “the mountain of myrrh” in 4:6, which speaks of the bitterness of death and the grave; and now “the mountains of spices,” as at the Father’s right hand. It is from thence that she calls Him. She knows where He is. She has Him in the highest Heaven, and He is there in all the fragrance of His infinite merits. He is way yonder—far above the foul pollutions of this world, and it is yonder He has prepared a home for His loved bride. She knows it, and she longs that He would come and transport her to it, that she may be in His sweet company forever, for “In Thy presence is fulness of joy; at Thy right hand there are pleasures for evermore” (Psalm 16:11). “Even so, come, Lord Jesus,” and take Thy waiting people home.
I’m waiting for Thee, Lord,
Thy beauty to see, Lord,
I’m waiting for Thee—for Thy coming again.
Thou’rt gone over there, Lord,
A place to prepare, Lord,
Thy home I shall share at Thy coming again.
’Mid danger and fear, Lord,
I’m oft weary here, Lord,
The day must be near of Thy coming again
’Tis all sunshine there, Lord,
No sighing nor care, Lord,
But glory so fair at Thy coming again.
E’en now let my ways, Lord,
Be bright with Thy praise, Lord,
For brief are the days ere Thy coming again.
I’m waiting for Thee, Lord,
Thy beauty to see, Lord,
No triumph for me like Thy coming again.
Hannah K. Burlingham