Here we have the second volume of Gregory of Nyssa’s Homilies on the Song of Songs published in the Sources Chrétiennes series. The very first book in that series, published in 1942, was Jean Daniélou’s translation of Gregory’s Life of Moses. It is therefore satisfying that, at last, Gregory’s other great work of mystical exegesis is joining the ensemble. This volume covers homilies vi–x, which comment on Song of Songs iii.1–v.2a. The first volume (SC lxxiii), published in 2021, contained homilies i–v (Song i.1–ii.17), and there is a third volume, with the final five homilies (Song v.2b – vi.9), still to come. In the familiar format, the Greek text is on the left-hand side, and the French translation on the right. The Greek edition is that of Hermann Langerbeck, published in 1960 as volume vi of Gregorii Nysseni Opera (ed. Werner Jaeger and others). Numbered subdivisions have helpfully been added to each homily (just as Daniélou provided the much-used numbering for Life of Moses). There is no text-critical apparatus, but eleven emendations to Langerbeck’s edition are listed on p. 13, with further explanation in footnotes. The French translation is provided by Mariette Canévet, who has been working on these homilies for over half a century, having first published a compilation of translated extracts in 1967. Françoise Vinel has collaborated with Canévet over the footnotes and six Notes complémentaires, which cover angels; the friends of the Bridegroom and the daughters of Jerusalem; the infinity of God and the infinity of desire; ‘from the beginning of faith’ (LXX Song iv.8); Methodius of Olympus and Gregory of Nyssa; scriptural sources and philosophical sources: the authority of Scripture. The Greek text and French translation, but not the notes, are available on Sources Chrétiennes Online (<https://about.brepolis.net/sources-chretiennes-online-sco/>), which opens up the possibility of targeted searches.
After reading tidy descriptions of Gregory’s understanding of spiritual progress, such as Daniélou’s three stages of light, cloud and darkness, it is always salutary to return to the writings on which they are based, and be reminded that these are biblical commentaries. Thus, they are not systematic theological expositions, nor practical guides to the life of prayer, but explorations of biblical imagery, discerning divine mysteries in the enigmas of the biblical text. Gregory transposes the earthy, sensual descriptions of Song of Songs into lessons on spiritual ascent. Of course, he is imposing his philosophical and theological commitments upon the text, in moves that today’s biblical critics would deem unacceptable. But he still needs to find imaginative ways in which to do so, pivoting between the bride as symbolic of the soul and as representing the Church, depending on the suitability of the biblical imagery. Expressions of longing are attributed to the soul, whereas some lists of the bride’s attributes are correlated with the Church’s characteristics. Canévet and Vinel argue, however, that ‘Les versets du Cantique ne s’appliquent pas, comme chez Origène, soit à l’Épouse soit à l’Église, mais indissolublement aux deux’ (p. 12). A measure of the bride’s progress is that her breasts flow with wine (cf. LXX Song iv.10) – she provides fountains of good teachings for the Church (Cant. 9.2).
Song of Songs does not have a clear narrative line, or any straightforward progression of ideas. As he follows the twists and turns, Gregory uses this to his advantage. Song of Songs ii evokes the beauty of springtime and ends with the bride and her beloved together, only for chapter iii to begin with the bride embarking on a frantic search to find the one whom her soul loves. The rapture of union has turned into the desolation of separation. Gregory starts homily vi by recapping the imagery so far, saying that it has portrayed the soul ceaselessly being changed for the better. Yet having received the object of her desire, she is once again thrown into despair. This plays into Gregory’s doctrine of epektasis, named after his use of Philippians iii.13, in which Paul portrays himself as ‘straining forward’ (epekteinō) to what lies ahead. The verse is referred to seven times in the homilies. According to Gregory, the soul progresses ‘from glory to glory’ (2 Corinthians iii.18; Cant. 6.4, 8.4), ‘from strength to strength’ (Psalm lxxxiv.7; Cant. 8.1), ‘from beginning to beginning’ (Gregory’s own expression in Cant. 8.1), with each stage achieved being but a starting point for the next. Gregory maintains, in opposition to the Greek philosophical tradition, that God is infinite (apeiros) and without limits (aoristos), as well as inaccessible and incomprehensible (e.g. Cant. 6.1). He also characterises the human spiritual quest, its growth towards the better, as being without limits (e.g. Cant. 8.1). As Canévet and Vinel note, ‘Dans Cant., les deux significations, du côté de l’Épouse et du côté de Dieu, ne cessent de s’entrecroiser’ (p. 292). Human beings, created in the image of the infinite God, have an unlimited desire to approach the divine.
Canévet and Vinel point out the priority that Scripture holds for Gregory, over against Greek philosophical sources. Making sense of the imagery presented to him, however, is not always an easy task, and Gregory occasionally expresses perplexity. How does one fathom the bride’s hair being ‘like flocks of goats that have been revealed from Galaad’ (LXX Song iv.1; Cant. 7.7)? He resorts to imagining Elijah living an ascetical lifestyle, dressed in goatskin, on Mount Gilead (cf. 1 Kings xvii.1; 2 Kgs i.8–9). Drilling down into his interpretations reveals how many of them depend upon the Greek biblical text, and simply would not work with the Hebrew. At Song of Songs iv,1, the Hebrew text talks of the bride’s dove eyes behind her veil. The Septuagint consistently translates ‘veil’ (tsammah) as ‘taciturnity’ (siōpēsis), possibly because it misunderstands the root of the rare Hebrew noun, enabling Gregory to commend not only that which is unseen, but also that which is unspoken (Cant. 7.6). At Song of Songs iv.8, the Septuagint renders ‘from the peak of Amana’ (mero’sh ’amanah) as ‘from the beginning of faith’ – translating the place name along etymological lines instead of transliterating it. Gregory then assumes that the phrase refers to baptism (Cant. 8.2). And some of Gregory’s extended treatments of breast imagery, involving both the breasts of the bridegroom (Song i.2, 4) and those of the bride (Song iv.10), are only possible because the Septuagint assumes a different vocalisation (dadim – ‘breasts’) to the Masoretic Text (dodim – ‘love’). Thus, ‘how much better is your love than wine’ (Song iv.10) becomes ‘how your breasts have been made beautiful by wine’ (LXX Song iv.10), leading to Gregory’s musings on how the bride is no longer providing milk for infants (cf. 1 Cor. iii.1–2) but the wine of gladness for those who have matured towards perfection (Cant. 9.2).
Canévet and Vinel have provided an excellent resource not only for Gregory of Nyssa scholars, but also for those interested in patristic exegesis or mystical theology. The notes and bibliography supply plenty of leads to be followed up. And we look forward to the next stage of the bride’s ascent with the publication of the third volume.
