How do you paint the love of God? Love is not something we will ever see directly, and this creates difficulties for artists who work in a purely visual medium. The answer for many who wish to represent the greatest virtue has been to seek inspiration in the allegorical account of God’s love in the Song of Songs, and in Mary, the great lover and most beloved Mother of God.
Fair in every part, my true love, no fault in all thy fashioning!
Venture forth from Lebanon, and come to me, my bride, my queen that shall be! Leave Amana behind thee, Sanir and Hermon heights, where the lairs of lions are, where the leopards roam the hills.
What a wound thou hast made, my bride, my true love, what a wound thou hast made in this heart of mine! And all with one glance of an eye, all with one ringlet straying on thy neck!
Sweet, sweet are thy caresses, my bride, my true love; wine cannot ravish the senses like that embrace, nor any spices match the perfume that breathes from thee.
Sweet are thy lips, my bride, as honey dripping from its comb; honey-sweet thy tongue, and soft as milk; the perfume of thy garments is very incense.
My bride, my true love, a garden enclosed; hedged all about, a fountain shut in and sealed! What wealth of grace is here!
Well-ordered rows of pomegranates, tree of cypress and tuft of nard; no lack there whether of spikenard or saffron, of calamus, cinnamon, or incense-tree, of myrrh, aloes or any rarest perfume.
A stream bordered with garden; water so fresh never came tumbling down from Lebanon.
North wind, awake; wind of the south, awake and come; blow through this garden of mine, and set its fragrance all astir. (Song of Songs 4:7-16)
By tradition, the eight chapters of the Song of Songs describe the love of Solomon and one of his wives for each other in lyrical-dramatic scenes and reciprocal songs, each addressing the other in turn.
Commentators have seen the account of romantic love between Solomon and his beloved as an allegory that reveals some of the mystery of the nature of God’s love, as multifaceted and superabundant. It has been interpreted, for example, as a symbol of the love of God for his chosen people, Israel; of Christ for his Church; of Christ for each of us, as members of the Church; of God for all humanity; of the Father for the Son; and of the Father for the Mother of God. It is the last example that we consider today.
The variety of loves that it represents tell us of the multi-faceted nature of God’s love. We might say that God’s love is a simple single utterance that is, paradoxically, infinitely faceted and deep. Human love, therefore, for all the intense passion we read in this book, is but a pale imitation of a tiny part of the greater love that it points to.
The interchange of love in the Song of Songs takes place in a secluded and beautiful garden. But at times the imagery blurs the distinction between the protagonists and their setting, so that the people are likened to the beautiful and fruitful plants and animals within the garden. Most powerfully, as in the passage quoted above, the beloved becomes the garden itself. This emphasizes that the beauty of all creation, and the fruitfulness and fertility that we see in it, are all perceptible signs of God’s immense love.
It is interesting to note also that in the course of the Song of Songs’ eight chapters, the voice of the lover switches. The book is written as a first-person narrative, in which the lover describes the beloved to the reader or addresses the beloved directly. This style never changes. But what does change periodically, without warning or explanation, is the subject who is speaking. At one moment, the narrator addressing us is the bridegroom speaking to and of his bride; the next the narrator is the bride addressing the bridegroom. This flipping of the subject occurs several times, and is a key to understanding an aspect of the Christian ideal of love that is exactly contrary to the caricature that is portrayed by ardent critics of Christianity today.
Christian or not, few I suggest would argue with the idea that when true love exists between two people, both are lover and beloved in the relationship, interacting in a dynamic exchange of love. The regular change of narrator communicates to us that natural kind of loving interaction.
The steady and rich flow of love between them is a constant element. It is as though this canticle is not so much about the lovers as it is about love.
One traditional pictorial representation of God’s love as described in the Song of Songs, focuses on the interpretation of the Song of Songs as an allegory of the Father’s love for Mary, the Mother of God. In Latin this genre of paintings is called Hortus conclusus—garden enclosed—and Fons signatus—sealed fountain, taking inspiration from from verse 4:12: “She is a garden enclosed, my sister, my promised bride; a garden enclosed, a sealed fountain.”
This image of the Mother and her Son, the two greatest lovers, was painted in Italy in the 15th century in the late Gothic style by the artist Pisanello. The art of this period is also known as quattrocento, from the Italian for the 1400s. The artist was known for his studies of birds and nature and he has included many in this painting. He represents the rose garden in great detail and it is known as the Virgin of the Quail, for the large bird painted bottom right.
This is as much a painting of Mary as the garden, as it is of her in the garden. I love the graceful flow of the lines in the drapery and the gentle touch of the hands on her Son, emphasized by the artist in enlarging the hands beyond natural proportions as they draw the Son and Mother into a an embrace.
The balanced, simple, and harmonious flow of the broad design is embellished with gorgeous detail in the portrayal of the flora and fauna (which extends into the design of the embossing in the gold in the upper part of the painting). Gold is used to suggest the heavenly dimension and we see two angels crown her as Queen of heaven.
The Mother of God is likened by the Church Fathers to a garden because of her fertility as a perfect mother, and the source of the cultivation of the new Tree of Life, which was originally in the Garden of Eden and described in the book of Genesis. The Fall, which took place in Eden, resulted from Adam and Eve succumbing to temptation and eating the fruit of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. St. Ephraim the Syrian, a Christian commentator from the fourth century who was declared a Doctor of the Church in 1920 by Pope Benedict XV, believed that Adam and Eve were subsequently expelled from Eden to prevent them from eating of the Tree of Life. Had they eaten the fruit of the Tree of Life, he says, it would have resulted in their living forever in the misery of their fallen state. With Christ’s establishment of his Church, Christians in communion with the Church are now able to eat the fruit of the Tree of Life, the fruit of which is Christ himself present in the Eucharist. By this, we are permitted to live forever, partaking of the divine nature.
Mary is not only the garden, she is also the fons conclusus, a fountain of life sealed by her perpetual virginity. The image of living, that is, flowing, water is often connected to the Spirit that brings life out the dry ground of our hearts and leads us to eternal life. So the Virgin is a garden, watered by the living water of the Holy Spirit, from which springs the Tree of Life, Christ. The garden is enclosed and the fountain sealed because she remains perpetually a virgin.
The Mother both the lover and the beloved of the Father. As such she is most beloved and the great lover of God, both active and passive. She is the greatest lover in the human race, aside from Christ himself.
We should all look to Mary, therefore, in the hope of perfecting the pattern of our love of others.