Arise, My Darling, My Beautiful One

"My lover said to me, 'Arise, my darling, my beautiful one, and come with me...'"  Song of Songs, 2:10. 

This week three people died that were close to those I care for.  I couldn't help but to remember a message that I gave for a dear woman in Alpena, Michigan. 

May it ministry to you as it did to me when I wrote it. 

Barb Thompson was a unique woman. The first time I wanted to make a house call to see her she told me not to come. A phone call every once in a while would be O.K.  Later I found out it was because her hair wasn’t done up and she couldn’t find her teeth. Then she made the mistake of being admitted to the hospital, a public hospital, where pastors don’t have to call but can drop in for a visit. Her hair wasn’t done then and her teeth were in a cup but she found out that I wasn’t there to see her hair or her teeth but her sweet spirit.

Barb had a strong faith in God but it didn’t mean that she never wavered or fell pray to doubt. Often the most stalwart Christians find themselves in a crisis of faith. “Is what I’ve been holding on to all my life going to sustain me through this?” It has brought me through life but will it get me through the process of death? On this side of suffering we proudly say “yes, of course!” But when in the throws of pain and suffering the pride and surety of what we know often leads to a greater humility and we pray, “God give me the faith that I need. A faith that is not in theory but one that will withstand the flames of pain, the darkness of night, the coldness of a solitary journey. This is, indeed, a path that I must walk alone; alone, without family and friends, even though their presence is here; alone but not without the hand of God. “For though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me. Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.”

Barb Thompson was a unique woman and she wanted me to preach from a unique passage at her home-going; a passage out of the norm for me, but one that I have grown to love as well.  As I read this passage I want you to imagine Barb lying in her bed, laboring to breath, on the verge of moving from this world to the next.

The Song of Solomon or the Song of Songs, chapter 2, verse 8 begins,

“Listen! My lover! Look! Here he comes, leaping across the mountains, bounding over the hills. ⁹ My lover is like a gazelle or a young stag. Look! There he stands behind our wall, gazing through the windows, peering through the lattice. ¹⁰ My lover spoke and said to me, "Arise, my darling, my beautiful one, and come with me. ¹¹ See! The winter is past; the rains are over and gone. ¹² Flowers appear on the earth; the season of singing has come, the cooing of doves is heard in our land. ¹³ The fig tree forms its early fruit; the blossoming vines spread their fragrance. Arise, come, my darling; my beautiful one, come with me."

Barb chose a passage picturing, not a king calling to his servant, not a lord calling out to his vassal, but a lover calling out to his bride. Jesus, the lover of her soul, was calling out to Barb, “Arise my darling, my beautiful one, and come with me.” It was Jesus calling her home to heaven.

The Scriptures describe the groom not waiting afar but leaping and bounding over the hills to get to the one he loves. He always takes the initiative to come to those he loves. He is one looking for his bride. He said to Barb, “The time is perfect. The winter is past and the rains are over.” The times of life that seem to be barren and described as dormant or dead are passing. You are passing into eternal life, Barb, my love. The time of transition is over. The winter is turning into spring; to a newness the likes of which you’ve never seen. Look at the fruit of your life. As King Hezekiah said, “My life is like a tapestry cut off from the loom.” It is a finished masterpiece; the beautiful work of the master in my life.  Look at the newness and wonder that surrounds being with your beloved. Flowers have appeared on the earth.  Singing abounds. The birds are cooing in contentment. The trees are bearing fruit and the vines are casting forth their sweet fragrance. No more will you gasp for air, Barb, but you’ll breathe deep the fragrances of heaven. No more will you worry about the cares of life for yours will be perfect contentment. No more will your labors be met with weeds and thistles, with hardships and obstacles, but you’ll produce the perfect fruit of the spirit. “Arise my darling, my beautiful one, come with me.”

In the beginning God walked in the cool of the evening in the midst of his creation and called to his beloved. Sin had entered that world and instead of Adam and Eve longing to hear the voice of God, they hid from it. When the people of Israel were delivered from Egypt and gathered to Mount Sinai God wanted to call to them but they said to Moses, “You talk to him, you go to him.  We’ll wait here.” They were afraid.  A sinner meeting a holy God is a fearful thing.

How is it then that Barb could choose a passage like this for her memorial service? It was because the sin was cared for and the fear was gone. Barb believed in the cleansing redemptive power of the blood of Jesus, her Savior, her Beloved. She believed that perfect love casts out all fear. Why should I be afraid of someone who gave his life for me, to save me from sin and self? Why should I fear the lover of my soul? I long to hear the sweet voice of my beloved calling, “Arise, my darling, my beautiful one, and come with me.” 

May I ask you a very personal question this afternoon? What if you were the one lying on that death bed, struggling to breathe, knowing that your last breath would be near? Would you welcome the call to come away or tremble in fear? Why be afraid of the one who took the sting out of death, who robbed the grave? He called Barb to himself last Saturday and his voice is still calling today. It may not be because death is near but it is inescapable, and God, who loves you so incredibly desires to cast out that fear and give you hope, the hope of eternal life. It comes through embracing his son, Jesus Christ, as your savior, your redeemer, the lover of your soul. 

I know that many make professions of faith but never bear the fruit of such a profession. A true confession of knowing Christ always produces fruit. So may I ask you to do a little self-examining today? Are you depending on a prayer said many years ago regarding a Savior that you barely know or are you looking for the long awaited lover of your soul, your groom? So when the time does come, you, like Barb, will listen with anticipation to hear him say, “Arise my darling, my beautiful one, and come with me. Come home.”