Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit · Sermon No. 1155
“Before I was even aware, my soul made me like the chariots of Amminadib.” Song of Solomon 6:12.
WE cannot be quite sure at this date what these chariots of Amminadib were to which the Inspired poet here refers. Some suppose that he may have alluded to a person of that name who was renowned, like Jehu of old, for his furious driving. Therefore it might have been familiar at the time and afterwards have become proverbial to speak in metaphor of the chariots of Amminadib. The conjecture seems harmless, still it is only a conjecture, and cannot be verified. It is quite possible, however, that our translators may have retained as a proper name a conjunction of two words, which, taken separately, are capable of being interpreted.
You remember the word “Ammi” as it occurs in the prophet Hosea? “Say unto your brethren, Ammi,” which signifies “you are My people,” even as before He had said, “Call his name Loammi, for “you are not My people.” The one word Ammi, thus stands for “people,” and the other word, “Nadib,” means “willing,” so that the two united may be rendered “willing people”—“like the chariots of a willing people.” Or the words may be read, I think, more correctly, “The chariots of the princely people”—the princely chariots, the chariots of the prince.
Some have understood them to mean the chariots of God, of the people that surround the Great Prince, Himself, that is to say, the chariots of the angels, according as we read, “The chariots of God are twenty thousand, even thousands of angels.” In this case the figure would be a very striking one—“Before I was even aware, my soul made me like the chariots of the attendants upon the Great King. I was like the cherubim themselves, all aglow with consecrated fire.” In whatever way the critical point is deciphered, the practical solution appears to be this—the writer’s soul was quickened because full of life, full of energy, full of might, full of spirit and full of princely dignity, too. And not only stimulated to a high degree, but also elevated, lifted up from dullness, indifference, and apathy—“Before I was even aware, my soul made me like the chariots of Amminadib.”
To whom does this text refer? Probably those of us who would never raise a doubt about the Song being a dialogue between Christ and the spouse—a matter we have no intention to canvass just now—as we take it for granted. We might find no small difficulty in determining to which of the two sacred personages this speech belongs, whether it was to Solomon or to Shulamite (the masculine or the feminine variety of the same name)—the Prince the husband, or the princess the spouse—whether, in a word, it was Christ or the Church. There is very much to be said for its being Christ Himself that is speaking.
You will notice in this chapter that, from the fourth verse, He has been referring to His Church. “You are beautiful, O My love, as Tirzah, comely as Jerusalem, terrible as an army with banners. Turn away your eyes from Me, for they have overcome Me,” and so on. He is speaking of His Church on to the 10th verse. “Who is she that looks forth as the morning, fair as the moon, clear as the sun, and terrible as an army with banners?” Then the 11th verse proceeds, “I went down into the garden of nuts to see the fruits of the valley, and to see whether the vine nourished, and the pomegranates budded. Before I was even aware, My soul made Me like the chariots of Amminadib.” May it not be the Lord Himself who is speaking here?
We may entertain the question for a moment without absolutely fixing upon this as its proper solution. If it refers to Christ, it means just this—that He had been, for a while, away from His people. They had grieved Him and He had hid His face from them. Out of very love and faithfulness He felt bound to chasten them, by hiding from them the brightness of His Countenance. But He began to think tenderly of His people—His heart turned towards His Church—and while He was thinking of her, He saw such beauties in her that His soul was melted with her charms. Oh, what an extraordinary thing that He should see loveliness in His poor imperfect Church!
And He saw such a loveliness about her, as her image rose up before His face, that He said, “You have ravished My heart, My Sister, My Spouse; you have ravished My heart with one of your eyes.” “Turn away your eyes from Me, for they have overcome Me.” And then, musing upon her, still, and coming into her garden and seeing the various Graces like plants and flowers in their different stages of development, His heart began to grow warm again towards her and all that concerned her. It had never really been cold—it only seemed so in the deviation of His accustomed manner. But, like Joseph before his brethren, He could not refrain any longer.
When He saw some of His people budding with desires, others bursting into the realization of those desires. When He saw some like ripe and mellow fruit upon the bough, ready for Heaven. When He saw others just commencing the Divine life, He was charmed to be in the garden of nuts—before He was even aware, He found He must be with His people—He must return in the fullness of His love to His Church! Not her beauties only, but the kindling of His own soul began to stir Him. His Free Grace sought free hope—His Infinite love became more than a match for the temporary prudence that had made Him hide His face, and, swift as the chariots of Amminadib, did He speed back to His people to let them see Him again—to let them enjoy His fellowship again.