Leaving the Comfort Zone

The lectionary today directs us to the marvelous little book the Song of Songs. The choice of reading surprised me as it didn't seem to relate to the other readings. Nonetheless, I was glad to be reminded of it. I have always had a soft spot for this little love poem. Reading it again took me back eighteen years when Jane and I wrote our first book, The Kiss of Intimacy: The Soul's Longing After God. It took me even further back to our first wedding anniversary. I bought Jane a rather special Folio Society version of the Song and gave it to her with a single deep red rose. We kept some of the rose petals and pressed them in the book (where we keep also a few petals from Jane's wedding bouquet and some petals from her father's funeral flowers.)
Seeing the reading for today prompted me to find a copy of our book to see what we had to say then about the passage.

The voice of my beloved!
Look, he comes,
leaping upon the mountains,
bounding over the hills.
My beloved is like a gazelle
or a young stag.
Look, there he stands
behind our wall,
gazing in at the windows,
looking through the lattice.
My beloved speaks and says to me:
‘Arise, my love, my fair one,
and come away;
for now the winter is past,
the rain is over and gone.
The flowers appear on the earth;
the time of singing has come,
and the voice of the turtle-dove
is heard in our land.
The fig tree puts forth its figs,
and the vines are in blossom;
they give forth fragrance.
Arise, my love, my fair one,
and come away.
Song of Songs 2:8-13 (NRSV)

Strangely, as I opened our book it fell immediately to the passage I was looking for: Chapter 5 "Comfort Zones and Calling." I read the chapter with some enjoyment. We likely wouldn't write the book in quite the same way now, but I found something there still profoundly true.
The Song of Songs has often been taken as an extended allegory of the yearnings of the seeker after God. We read it so in 1994. Our telling of the story was of a tender relationship between a young shepherd and his love. Like Romeo and Juliet, their love was at the margins—inappropriate, frowned on, illicit. The villain of the piece was King Solomon who wanted the young woman as one among the hundreds in his harem. We took Solomon to represent the distractions and temptations that face the seeker after God.
At the point in the story we read today, the young shepherd has come to take his lover away from the tents of Solomon. However, she has become content, comfortable in her surroundings. If the story continued, we would find that she refuses to leave the comfort of Solomon's court for the life of hillside wandering with the shepherd. The shepherd leaves, and it breaks her heart. Too late, she tries to follow him, but he has gone. The story continues with more twists and turns, for the course of true love does not run smooth, but to say more would be a spoiler!
Our musings in 1994 suggested that the spiritual life (of love for God and seeking deeper love) was a struggle with apathy, with contentment, with settledness. We said,


Comfort zones are great places to be. Like a warm, quilted bed the comfort zone gives us a sense of well-being and security. We like to be there. But one of the principles of life is that for growth and development there is always need to leave a comfort zone, to stretch further, to move on. It is nearly always worth it, as the benefits of growth outweigh the early discomfort. It is the initial 'leaving' which is the most difficult (1995, 66-67).
How true that has proved in the divine romance! In a comfort zone? Listen for the voice of the shepherd who is like a gazelle or a young stag on the cleft mountain.
+Ab. Andy