THE GAZELLES AND THE DEER – Charles Spurgeon
THE GAZELLES AND THE DEER
“By the gazelles, and by the deer of the field.” — Solomon’s Song 2:7
The spouse was in the full enjoyment of fellowship with her Beloved. Her joy was so great that it almost overwhelmed her, and yet, so closely does fear tread upon the heels of joy, she was filled with dread lest her bliss should come to an end. She feared that others might disturb her Lord, for if He were grieved, she would be grieved as well. If He departed, the banquet of her delight would be over. She was even afraid of her friends, the daughters of Jerusalem. She knew that the best can interrupt fellowship just as easily as the worst, and therefore she entreated even Zion’s daughters not to sin against Zion’s King. Had they awakened her Beloved and broken His sacred peace, she would not have found any recompense in their company but would rather have regarded them with scorn for robbing her of her chief delight.
The entreaty she used is a fine example of Oriental poetry. She charges them, not as we might do in a prosaic manner, by everything that is sacred and true, but “by the gazelles, and by the deer of the field.” As much as we understand her meaning, we will endeavor to profit from it during our brief meditation. It touches one of the most mysterious points of the secret life of the believer, and we will need the guidance of the Holy Spirit while we seek to open up its meaning.
Beauty in Fellowship
“The gazelles and the deer of the field” are creatures of great beauty. Who can gaze upon them as they wander among the ferns without an inward admiration? Now, since nothing is more lovely than communion with Jesus, the spouse exhorts the daughters of Jerusalem, by all the loveliest objects in nature, to refrain from disturbing it. No one would wish to drive away the gazelle, but would rather feast his eyes upon it. And yet, its graceful elegance can never be compared with the beauty of holiness, that comeliness of grace found in fellowship with Jesus! It is beautiful from both sides! It is a lovely display of condescension for our Beloved Lord to reveal Himself to us, and on the other hand, it is a charming manifestation of every admirable virtue when a believer enters into fellowship with his Lord. He who would disturb such mutual communion must be devoid of spiritual taste and blind to all that is most worthy of admiration.
As one delights to see the red deer in the open glades of the forest and counts them the finest ornaments of the scene, so do those whose eyes are opened rejoice in the saints whose high communion with Heaven renders them beings of superior mold to common mortals. A soul in communion with its God is the admiration of angels! Was ever a lovelier sight seen than Jesus at the table, with the beloved disciple leaning on His bosom? Is not Mary sitting at our Master’s feet a picture worthy of the choicest art?
Do nothing, then, O you who delight in things of beauty, to mar the fellowship in which the rarest beauty dwells! Neither by worldly care, nor sin, nor trifling, make even the slightest stir that might break the Beloved’s repose. His restful Presence is Heaven below and the best foretaste of Heaven above—in it, we find everything that is pure, lovely, and of good report. It is good and only good! Why, then, O daughters of Jerusalem, should you stir up our Beloved and cause His adorable excellence to be hidden from us? Rather, join with us in preserving a joy so fair, a bliss so comely!
Tender Innocence and Love
The next thought suggested by “by the gazelles, and by the deer of the field” is that of tender innocence. These gentle creatures are so harmless, so defenseless, so timid, that one must have a soulless soul to do them harm or cause them fright. By all that is tender, the spouse beseeches her friends not to disturb her Beloved. He is so good, so kind, so holy, harmless, and undefiled that even the most indifferent ought to be ashamed to molest His rest! About Him, there is nothing to provoke offense and everything to forbid it. He is a Man of Sorrows and acquainted with grief. He gave His back to the smiters and His cheeks to them that plucked off His hair. He hid not His face from shame and spitting. Being reviled, He reviled not again, but in His death agonies, He prayed for His enemies. Who, then, could find cause for offense in Him?
Do not His wounds ward off the blows that might have been challenged had He been of another character? Who would wish to vex the Lamb of God? Go elsewhere, you hunters! “The Gazelle of the morning” has already sweat great drops of blood falling to the ground! When dogs compassed Him and the assembly of the wicked enclosed Him, He felt the full of grief—will you afflict Him again?
In fellowship with Jesus, there is a tenderness that ought to disarm all opposition and even command respectful deference. A soul communing with the Son of God challenges no enmity. The world may rise against proselyting zeal, or defiant controversy, or ostentatious ceremonialism—for these have prominence and power and are fair game for martial spirits—but fellowship is quiet, retiring, unobtrusive, harmless. The saints who most abound in it are of a tender spirit, fearful to offend, non-resistant, and patient. Surely it would be a superfluity of cruelty to wish to deprive them of their unselfish happiness, which deprives no hearer of a drop of pleasure and costs no eye a tear! Rather, let even those who are most indifferent to religion pay a generous respect to those who find their delight in it.
Though the worldling may care nothing for the love which overpowers the believer’s ravished spirit, let him tread with reverent care when he passes the closet of devotion or hears a stray note from the song of meditative gratitude. Rough men have paused when they have suddenly come upon a fair gazelle grazing in a secluded spot. They are so charmed by the sight of such tender loveliness that they scarcely dare to move a foot lest they should alarm the gentle animal! Some such feeling may well forbid the harsh criticism or the vulgar laugh when even the infidel beholds a sincere heart in conversation with its Lord.
The Tenderness of True Fellowship
As for those of us who know the blessedness of fellowship with Jesus, it behooves us to be doubly jealous of our words and deeds, lest in a single instance we offend one of the Redeemer’s little ones and cause him to lose, even for an hour, his delight in the Lord! How often are Christians careless about this? Until at the sight of some professors, the more spiritual may well take alarm and cry out in anguish, “I charge you, O you daughters of Jerusalem, by the gazelles and by the deer of the field, that you stir not up, nor awake my love, till He pleases.”
A third thought most certainly had place in the mind of the anxious spouse. She meant to entreat and persuade her friends to silence by everything that sets forth love. The lilies and the gazelles have always been sacred to love. The poet of the Canticles had elsewhere used the symbol of the text to set forth married love. “Let her be as the loving gazelle and pleasant doe” (Prov. 5:19). If ever there was true love in all this selfish world, it is the love of Jesus, first, and next the love of His people. As for His love, it passes the love of women—many waters cannot quench it, neither can the floods drown it. And as for the love of the Church, He who best knows it says, “How fair is your love, My Sister, My Spouse! How much better is your love than wine! And the smell of your ointment than all spices!”
The Sanctuary of Divine Love
If love, therefore, may plead immunity from war and ask to have its quietude respected, the spouse used a good argument when she pleaded, “by the gazelles and by the deer of the field,” that her royal Bridegroom’s rest of love might not be invaded. If you love, or are loved, or wish to be loved, have a reverent regard for those who commune with Jesus, for their souls take their fill of love—and to drive them from their bliss would be inexcusable barbarity!
O you who have hearts to feel for others, do not cause the bitterest sorrow by depriving a sanctified soul of the sweetest of delights! Draw not near here with idle tales, or wanton speech, or empty mirth—the place where you stand is holy ground, for surely God is in that place where a heart, enamored of the altogether Lovely One, delights itself in the Lord! O that all believers were so anxious to retain the enjoyment of Divine love that they would warn off every intruder, whoever they might be!
The Delicate Sensitivity of the Beloved
Once more, upon the very surface of the figure lies the idea of delicate sensitiveness. The gazelles and the deer of the field soon disappear if anything disturbs them. In this respect, they represent the speediness with which the Beloved departs when He is annoyed by sin. He is as a deer or a young gazelle for this quality, among many others, that while He comes leaping upon the mountains, skipping upon the hills, He also soon withdraws Himself. The Lord our God is a jealous God.
In proportion to the fire of love is the heat of jealousy, and therefore, our Lord Jesus will not brook a wandering affection in those greatly beloved ones to whom He manifests Himself. It requires constant watchfulness to maintain constant fellowship. Hence, the spouse entreats and beseeches those who came near her not to give offense to her Lord. They might do this unwittingly, hence she warns them. They might do it in wanton carelessness, hence she “charges” them. She would have them speak softly and move gently, lest He should be disturbed.
Should we not feel the same anxiety that nothing in our families, or in any of our relations or connections, should be tolerated by us that could envelope us in the wrong and grieve our Lord? Should we not especially watch every thought of our mind, every desire of our heart, every word of our tongue, and every deed of our hand, lest any of these should offend Him and break our rapturous communion?
Conclusion
If we would be favored above others, we must be more on our guard than others are. He who becomes “a man greatly beloved” must keep his heart with sevenfold diligence, for to whom much is given, much will be required. Kings will bear from common subjects behavior which could not be endured in favorites. That which might cause but slight pain from an enemy will sorely wound if it comes from a friend. Therefore, the favored spouse may well use, in her entreaty, the name of the most tenderly susceptible of love’s favorites and plead, “by the gazelles, and by the deer of the field.”
Dear friend, do you know what communion with Jesus means? If so, imitate the spouse whenever you are in the enjoyment of it. Be jealous of yourself and all around you, that the Well-Beloved may not be vexed. Aim at the maintenance of life-long communion. Remember how, for centuries, Enoch walked with God. Our lives are but a span compared to his—why should we not always come up from the wilderness leaning on our Beloved? The Holy Spirit has almighty power. Let us ask and receive, that our joy may be full!
If you do not understand this precious secret, may the Lord reveal it to you even now. You must first receive the Lord Jesus as your Savior, or you can never know Him as your Bridegroom. Faith must trust Him before love can embrace Him. You must be washed, or you can never be banqueted. Pant after the Redeemer as the deer pants after the water brooks, and when you have drunk of the Water of Life, then shall you be as a gazelle let loose! Then, too, your feet shall be like deer’s feet, and you shall be set upon your high places.
When this has been made your own by experience, you shall understand the text and shall also breathe the prayer of another verse from the same song: “Make haste, my Beloved, and be like a gazelle or young stag upon the mountains of spices.”