R.C. Chapman’s S.O.S. 1:12

By R.C. Chapman

“While the King sitteth at His table, my spikenard sendeth forth the smell thereof.” —Song of Solomon 1:12

Happy Spirits! Ye who banquet above with Jesus, we give you joy!  Your joy is ours, and our sweet company when ye quit our company, departing to be with Christ; we also see our Lord’s chariot, sent to bear us home, as it were at our very door!  “Tis but an hour or two of waiting; if He come not to receive us to Himself He will compose our body of humiliation to sleep; and pleasant our bed in the grave, while our spirits mount aloft, to join the Lamb and ransomed above.

Thou, Lord, hast proved me by taking to thyself many a lover and friend; but Thou preparest for me a table in the wilderness, Thou anointest me head with oil, my cup runneth over.  In the presence of mine enemies, my Lord will have me sit down with Him at His table.  Many are they which rise up against me; they would cut me off from meeting with my Lord: in His presence, and at His table, I am more than conqueror.

While by the power of my Lord I keep me there, that evil one toucheth me not.  My foolishness and my guiltiness are as a quiver full of sharp arrows in the hand of mine enemy.  Pride, unbelief, ignorance, are his sword and spear: my faith cries out, “The blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth me from all sin” —1st John 1:7, and the victory is mine.  I deny not my debt, but flee to Thee—to Thee, my Lord and Surety! And behold the bond of the Law, the handwriting that was against me, nailed to the cross.  In Thee my great strength lies; and, as I hear Thy voice of invitation, of entreaty, Thy voice of power and love, the cords of mine enemies are as green withes—an host flees before me.

—before the presence of my Lord!  My apparel, I see, is meet for banqueting house and table—the robe of righteousness; the garments of salvation!  I am melted and self-abased as I enter and sit down.  Thou, Lord, dost gird Thyself and serve me! Thy flesh is meat indeed, Thy blood is drink indeed; and Thou fillest my soul with joy unspeakable and full of glory! Access to Thee, my Lord, emboldens me; for Thou hast all to give, and no heart to withhold aught that is good—and Thou art well pleased with my confidence.  Thou holdest forth the golden scepter, and sayest, What is Thy request? I answer, “Lord, that I may behold Thy beauty, sit at Thy feet, and banquet with Thee.”  So shall my lowly, contrite spirit be spikenard, fragrant and precious to my Lord.


R.C. Chapman’s S.O.S. 1:8: pt.1 of 2

By R.C. Chapman

“If thou know not, O thou fairest among women, go thy way forth by the footsteps of the flock, and feed thy kids beside the shepherds’ tents.”  Song of Solomon 1:8



Thine heart, O my Lord! inclines Thine ear to hear.  Thou hast compassion on the ignorant, and on them that are out of the way.  Thou knewest no darkness of error; Thou wast holy, and art the same yesterday, and today, and forever (Hebrews 13:8)

Thou art our near kinsman; thy love and grace made the stoop; thou wast made flesh, and art the Son of Man seated at the right hand of the Majesty on high.  Thou lovest to show us the bosom of the Father, all whose counsels are in Thee fulfilled, and whose utmost glory is manifest in Thee.

Thou art my Prophet, thou Lamb of God!  I love to learn, because of the lesson, and because of the Teacher.  Lord, my soul hangeth upon Thy lips; I cannot know my path but by Thy light, nor pursue my way but as Thou dost sustain my feebleness and check my wandering.

My need compels me, Thy love constrains me, therefore I draw near; I boast no wisdom; I confess my foolishness, and Thou upbraidest me now; rather dost Thou commend me, for by my poverty Thy riches are manifest, and Thou delightest to show me all the lovingkindness of Thine heart.

Behold me, Lord!  The work of Thine hands—not Thy creature only, Thy new creature also, quickened when dead in trespass and sins, without will or power to take hold of Thee, to look unto Thee, or to touch even the hem of Thy garment.

Now, by Thy Spirit quickened and created anew, behold me, wrought by Thyself after Thine own image.  Forsake not, then, the work of Thine own hands! Thou wilt not leave me; Thine eyes look with joyfulness upon me, as with a heart above a mother’s; Thou, abiding in Thine own peace, dost consider me, and watchest over me with tenderness divine.

Thou dost in equal truth and love entitle Thy sister-spouse the fairest among women; each member fair and lovely in Thy sight, and I, among the rest, can say: “Though black, I am comely” (Song of Solomon 1:5). But, “Tell me, O Thou whom my soul loveth, where thou feedest” (Song of Solomon 1:7).  I know Thou hearest me; what then is Thine answer?  Hear it, O my soul; thy Lord, thy Beloved, bids the go thy way by the footsteps of the flock.

Hast thou dreamed a dream of a bed of roses and path of flowers?  Through much tribulation must thou enter the kingdom.  Start now aside; see the footprints of thy Lord.  Such was His cup as only He Himself could drink and drain, full of gall and wormwood of thy sin and curse: and now, thou art forever free.



Excerpt from Meditations on the Song of Solomon, Kindle edition, Loc. 231

Excerpts of Mercy

R.C. Chapman’s S.O.S. 1:7

By R.C. Chapman

“Tell me, O thou whom my soul loveth, where Thou feedest: where Thou makest Thou flock to rest at noon: for why should I be as one that turneth aside by the flocks of thy companions?” Song of Solomon 1:7imageedit_3_5632647361

Lord Jesus, my soul loveth Thee! My heart locks Thee within it, as its precious jewel, and rejoices in Thee as those that find great spoil. Thou knowest all things; Thou knowest that I love Thee.

The flesh lusteth against the Spirit! The Canaanite yet in the land—the foe that I would slay and utterly destroy, but cannot; Thou, Lord, thyself, beholding the war, art moved with compassion, and sayest, “The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak” (Matthew 26:41).

I am bold to say, I love Thee, Thou gracious, glorious, and lovely One! And Thou, hearing me, dost approve my words.  Thou art my portion, O Lord, and gladly will I lack anything to gain Thee.  My thirsty soul desires no fountain but Thyself, and is full of longing to drink yet more abundantly.  She crieth out for Thy pasture, O Thou Shepherd of Israel! Who hast infinite love towards all and each of Thine: Thy blood was their ransom, and Thou sittest upon Thy throne a Royal Shepherd.

Those that are departed to be with Thee abide in the light of Thy countenance; no shades of ignorance nor guilt hide from them thy face. Thou carest for us also, thy flock in the wilderness.  Thou art unto us a shadow from the heat, the shadow of a great rock in this weary land.  All our case is before Thee; to ourselves but little known—to Thee naked, and open—and great is our peace, perfect our safety. Thy power defends, Thy wisdom guides Thy flock; thou leadest them beside still waters, and makest them to lie down in green pastures (Psalm 23:2).

Truly this world is altogether a barren wilderness and a dry land. Alas! Then, my foolishness, that I should ever hew out to myself any broken cisterns! Oh! Why turnest thou aside, my heart? Wherefore stray from the pasture of Jesus? Lord, I call to mind my ways and am filled with indignation against myself, and commit myself afresh to Thy guidance.

O let me not be as one that turneth aside while Thy people follow Thee, hearing Thy voice, drinking the wine of Thy love! They are Thy companions; for is not she Thy companion who is Thy sister, Thy spouse, Thy fair one, thy dove, Thy undefiled! Thou dost grant her freest access to Thee, closest fellowship of the Spirit, such as angels admire, and standing by, rejoice to behold.

Then hear me, O my Lord, tell me where, in this noontide and fierce heat, Thou dost refresh Thy flock! Through temptations manifold, through persecutions and afflictions, I will seek Thee. Thy grace upholding me, I will tread any path where I see the print of Thy feet, for great is the prize I aim to win—it is Thyself! And losing all, but having Thee, I am rich, possessing all things.


Excerpts of Mercy

Meditations on the Song of Solomon: This is 1:7.

1:1           1:4          1:5          1:6          1:7           1:16