Set me as a seal upon thy heart, As a seal upon thine arm For love is strong as death; Jealousy is cruel as Sheol The flashes thereof are flashes of fire, Flames of Jah.
The Song ends with the bride asking for one thing: a place on the heart and arm of the one she loves, held there like a signet ring. Two questions follow. What does a seal secure, and why does she measure love by death and the grave?
This cry answers something the Bridegroom has just said. The whole book leads up to it.
This last chapter takes up and sets forth all the principles of the whole song... In verse 5 comes the exclamation, "Who is this that comes up from the wilderness, leaning on her beloved?" Then the Bridegroom reminds His bride that she owes everything, wholly and entirely, to His grace — all the blessing she has entered into, and her very existence as the object of His affection and the companion of His joys. It is in response to this that she cries, "Set me as a seal upon your heart, as a seal upon your arm."
So whose love is she counting on?
She does not doubt his love, but she realises that all her blessing depends on his love, not hers... So the restored soul delights to say of Christ: "My confidence is that my name is on His heart — I have a place in His affections. My name is on His arm — I have the protection and support of His strong arm." We can trust His heart and His arm, though we cannot trust our own.
The picture may come from Israel's high priest, who wore the nation's names cut into stone.
The heart and the arm (probably the shoulder) are emblems of love and strength, as always in Scripture. They may refer to the names of the twelve tribes engraved on the breastplate, and on the onyx stones on the shoulders of the high priest. The meaning will then be: set me as a seal on Your heart and shoulders. The seal is a symbol of security, for a divine seal can never be broken. Set me there, so that Your divine love may always carry me and Your divine power uphold me.
Why measure love by death, of all things? Death is the strength no man has ever beaten.
The Bridegroom's love is the ground of the bride's confidence, as the love of Christ is the ground of our confidence. This love has been proved, and found to be strong as death. Death makes sport of all man's puny strength. From the fall onwards men and death have been in mortal combat, and death has triumphed all along the line. Then at last love — love divine — went down into the dark valley and entered into combat with death. At the cross love came into conflict with death, and love triumphed. Death took away His life, but death could not take away His love. Love prevailed, because love yielded to death so that love might triumph over death.
The second comparison moves from strength to refusal to let go.
If death takes a strong hold of a person, the grave keeps it. It is unyielding... It holds fast its prey. Beg the grave on your knees, as earnestly as you like. It will never give you back the loved one torn from your heart and buried in its deep caverns.
The word "jealousy" sounds bad to us. Scripture uses it differently.
Almost universally people speak of jealousy in an evil sense; Scripture hardly ever does. It even speaks of a godly jealousy. The Apostle can say of believers, "I feel a divine jealousy for you, since I betrothed you to one husband, to present you as a pure virgin to Christ" (2 Cor. 11:2).
The ESV calls this fire the very flame of the LORD. Older translations read "a flame of Jah."
This love is so intense that it can only be compared to the consuming and purifying effects of fire — "a flame of Jah." That takes us back to the essence and greatness of its character, for love and light are the words used to express the divine nature.
That fire is not only His. It catches.
We see the vehement flame of love carrying Paul through that remarkable life. He spent and was spent for the saints. He left home and ease, and faced hunger and thirst, cold and nakedness, dangers, persecutions and death, constrained by the love of Christ... The flame of love that glowed in the martyrs' hearts triumphed over the flame of the fire that burned their bodies.
- Grace first. The Bridegroom first reminds her that all her blessing, and her very place as His beloved, came from His grace. Only then does she ask for the seal.
- Sealed, not clinging. Heart and arm recall the high priest carrying Israel's names on his breast and shoulders. Her security rests on His love and His power, and a divine seal cannot be broken.
- Strong as death. Death had beaten everyone until love met it at the cross; it took His life and could not take His love.
- Cruel as the grave. The grave never gives back what it holds — so His jealous love tolerates no rival for the heart it has claimed.
- A flame that spreads. The same fire that burned in Him burned in Paul and in the martyrs, outlasting every flame set against them.
Many waters cannot quench love, Neither do the floods drown it Even if a man gave all the substance of his house for love, It would utterly be contemned.
The bride's plea in verse 6 ends with a claim about love itself: floods cannot put it out, and no money can buy it. Commentators read this as the love of Christ, tested at the cross, and they ask what it asks back from us.
These words close the Song. One writer sets them in the day when Israel returns to her Messiah, and reads both halves of the verse as one answer:
Then the prayer will be answered. Zion will be set as a seal on Messiah's heart and arm. How strong and jealous His love — and there is the answer to it in that day. Death and the grave only proved His love. The flame of the LORD tested it. Waters and floods could not quench it. It cannot be bought, and it is above all price, so that all a man can give is utterly despised beside it.
The "many waters" and "floods" are not left as poetry. One writer takes them to the cross, where love went under the water and came up unchanged:
Nothing can quench divine love. The Lord Jesus faced the "many waters," but they could not quench His love. He faced the "floods," but they could not drown His love. At the cross "the floods lifted up their voice." Divine love proved mightier than the noise of many waters… All the billows and waves of God passed over Him (Jonah 2:3), but His love never passed from Him. His love has triumphed, and His love abides.
Verse 6 sets love beside death. One writer asks where we can find love like this, and gives only one answer:
Where shall we find love like this? Only in the heart of Jesus. What takes such a hold as death? What keeps it like the grave? What is so unsparing as the fierce flame? There is nothing to compare with love… When love and death met in fearful conflict on the cross, love triumphed, and death was forever defeated.
The second half of the verse moves from strength to price. A man may offer everything he owns for love and get only contempt. One writer sets what Christ gave up beside what He gave, then turns the question back on us:
Love cannot be bought. It is true that Christ gave up, as it were, the "substance of His house." He gave up kingdoms and thrones and crowns. But He gave more — He "gave Himself," and in giving Himself He proved His love… And in response to this great love He looks for love. Nothing but love from our hearts will satisfy the love of His heart. We may offer the work of our hands, our silver and our gold, our acts of charity, even our bodies to be burned. But if there is no love, it will be utterly despised.
It matters who first said this. One writer comments on Mary, who poured costly perfume over Jesus. He notes that the man who wrote these words could afford to test them:
The love that prompted it was of God, and this is above all price. "If a man offered for love all the wealth of his house, he would be utterly despised." These are the words of the man who knew, better than anyone, how empty human love is. He had the greatest wealth ever given to the head of any house.
Love cannot be bought, and it cannot be worked up in us either. One writer says what to do when your love for Christ feels cold:
If He had only given all His possessions it would have been a wonderful gift. But He has not only given all that He has — He has given Himself, and all that He is, for us and to us… So never try to fan up the flame of your flickering love for Him by your own effort. It cannot be done that way. Instead, dwell on His intense, eternal and unchanging love for you, and you will find it warms your affections for Him.
One writer turns this into three exchanges to make when you fail Him:
When you have to mourn the coldness of your love, think of His love that the many waters could not quench. When you have to confess your forgetfulness and unfaithfulness, give thanks that He cannot forget, and that He loves His own to the end. When your selfishness and reserve fill you with shame, bless His name that He held back nothing, but sold all that He had, and gave Himself for you.
- Tested — the waters and floods were real. Christ went under them at the cross, and His love came up unchanged.
- Triumphant — love and death met in conflict at the cross; love won and death lost.
- Unbought — He gave up thrones, then gave Himself; no fortune offered in return can touch a love of that order.
- Unsatisfied by less — He looks for love back, and works, money and charity without it are worthless to Him.
- Answering — cold affection is not warmed by effort but by dwelling on the love that could not be quenched.