from Sermons on The Song of Songs, 2
It would seem that this holy kiss was of necessity bestowed on the world for two reasons. Without it the faith of those who wavered would not have been strengthened, nor the desires of the fervent appeased. Moreover, this kiss is no other than the Mediator between God and man, himself a man, Christ Jesus, who with the Father and Holy Spirit lives and reigns as God for ever and ever.
I first discovered him a long time ago and was enraptured by his personal knowledge of Christ and his great response of love for Love. The sermons on The Song of Songs can only be called amazing. That a man would have such boldness to write of his love for Christ and Christ's love for him is only matched, if at all, by the writings of SS. Augustine and John of the Cross.
Where are the men today who show us and communicate the Love Who is a Person to us? Why do we not have examples of such in the recent years? Is it that men who are called by God have to be so macho as not to be able to receive Christ's Love? Think on this. The Church has chosen so many business types of priests and bishops that the poets are missing. Our present Pope Benedict XVI in his encyclical on love, which I have written about here, comes close. But, the romantic age seems to be over and the language of love lost.
Here is St. Bernard. How wonderful are these bold words. The conscientious man of those days might repeat to himself: "Of what use to me the wordy effusions of the prophets? Rather let him who is the most handsome of the sons of men, let him kiss me with the kiss of his mouth. No longer am I satisfied to listen to Moses, for he is a slow speaker and not able to speak well. Isaiah is a man of unclean lips, Jeremiah does not know how to speak, he is a child ; not one of the prophets makes an impact on me with his words. But he, the one whom they proclaim, let him speak to me, “let him kiss me with the kiss of his mouth.” I have no desire that he should approach me in their person, or address me with their words, for they are “'a watery darkness, a dense cloud;” rather in his own person “let him kiss me with the kiss of his mouth;” let him whose presence is full of love, from whom exquisite doctrines flow in streams, let him become “a spring inside me, welling up to eternal life.” Shall I not receive a richer infusion of grace from him whom the Father has anointed with the oil of gladness above all his rivals, provided that he will bestow on me the kiss of his mouth? For his living, active word is to me a kiss, not indeed an adhering of the lips that can sometimes belie a union of hearts, but an unreserved infusion of joys, a revealing of mysteries, a marvelous and indistinguishable mingling of the divine light with the enlightened mind, which, joined in truth to God, is one spirit with him. With good reason then I avoid trucking with visions and dreams; I want no part with parables and figures of speech; even the very beauty of the angels can only leave me wearied. For my Jesus utterly surpasses these in his majesty and splendor. Therefore I ask of him what I ask of neither man nor angel: that he kiss me with the kiss of his mouth.
Note how I do not presume that it is with his mouth I shall be kissed, for that constitutes the unique felicity and singular privilege of the human nature he assumed. No, in the consciousness of my lowliness I ask to be kissed with the kiss of his mouth, an experience shared by all who are in a position to say: “Indeed from his fullness we have, all of us, received.”
I know some monks today would be squirming in their stalls today if their abbot spoke like this. But, these are the words of experience, of a mystical union with God. And, as Garrigou-Lagrange writes, this experience is for all Catholics, not merely the great ones.
Do we believe that?
I must ask you to try to give your whole attention here. The mouth that kisses signifies the Word who assumes human nature; the nature assumed receives the kiss; the kiss however, that takes its being both from the giver and the receiver, is a person that is formed by both, none other than "the one mediator between God and mankind, himself a man, Christ Jesus." It is for this reason that none of the saints dared say: "let him kiss me with his mouth," but rather, "with the kiss of his mouth." In this way they paid tribute to that prerogative of Christ, on whom uniquely and in one sole instance the mouth of the word was pressed, that moment when the fullness of the divinity yielded itself to him as the life of his body. A fertile kiss therefore, a marvel of stupendous self-abasement that is not a mere pressing of mouth upon mouth; it is the uniting of God with man. Normally the touch of lip on lip is the sign of the loving embrace of hearts, but this conjoining of natures brings together the human and divine, shows God reconciling "to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven.'' "For he is the peace between us, and has made the two into one.'' This was the kiss for which just men yearned under the old dispensation, foreseeing as they did that in him they would "find happiness and a crown of rejoicing," because in him were hidden "all the jewels of wisdom and knowledge.' Hence their longing to taste that fullness of his.