Chapter Seventeen: The Awake Tree
In the Israel trip I just mentioned there was a powerful moment involving almond trees. It was powerful primarily because of the timing and location. It was October 2017 and we had just announced a name change for our church community. After a clear prompting from heaven, we changed the name to the Almond Branch. A week or so after this, I found myself unexpectedly seeing real almond trees for the first time—in Israel. But God’s hand was especially evident when I realized where I was in the country.
I saw these trees in the place Jesus himself grew up. The One whom the prophets called the “Branch” grew up in the town of Nazareth, which I learned most likely derived its name from a Hebrew term for branch—netzer.
Now, the word almond literally means to watch with open eyes—or to be awake. Thus, the tree is known throughout Hebrew history as the Awake Tree. It holds this title because it’s the first tree to blossom in the winter. As early as late January, almond blossoms emerge like a bright signal fire calling to the rest of the trees, announcing the time has come to awaken from winter’s slumber.
This is the same call that comes to the Shulamite in her moment of unbelief. This voice of truth is radiating through the lattice in her wall and it resounds with the following words:
The season has changed,
the bondage of your barren winter has ended,
and the season of hiding is over and gone.
The rains have soaked the earth
and left it bright with blossoming flowers.
The season for singing and pruning the vines has arrived.
I hear the cooing of doves in our land,
filling the air with songs to awaken you and guide you forth.
Song 2:11-12 TPT
Let’s pause and imagine something for a moment. Let’s say there was a sheltered boy raised in a region high up in the north of a country like Greenland, which despite its name does not know the green wonders of the earth. All this child has ever known are igloos, tundra, and snow. Imagine then that this young person has never accessed the internet and was never told about other climates. His only frame of reference to the outdoors is the strong and icy grip of winter.
So let’s say you come to this young boy with two large photographs. The first is of a scene further south, down in the northeastern United States during the dead of January. It’s a giant field of snow surrounded by dead trees, their branches thick with ice and barely visible against the gray sky. The child would look at this and obviously see something very similar to the world he already knows.
But then you take out the second picture and tell him this is the same exact field. However, this one was taken just a few months later. In this photo, an unbelievable transfiguration has taken place. An alien landscape of color now fills the scene. The mighty weight of snow is gone, replaced with majestic flowers and a sprawl of flying creatures encircling the trees that now bear multiple shades of green.
Imagine the sheer awe that would overtake such a child. This, mixed with a demanding curiosity questioning whether the image was real. And we couldn’t blame him for such doubt. It’s only because we experience seasonal changes that our brains dial down the wonder and impossibility of it all. The transformation of spring is an astounding miracle.
But there is a very real way we can indeed relate to this young friend from Greenland. For we live in a world that is spiritually frozen, and the idea of a spiritual springtime of heaven on earth seems utterly preposterous.
In our state of original blessing, however, humanity was made to burst forth into a landscape of vibrant unity, flourishing joy, and supernatural peace. We were created to blossom with the full fruits of God’s image. Yet in this frozen era of sin most have forgotten this truth and disbelieve its potential. While there may be patches of “green” here and there—fleeting moments of beauty and joy—a global terrain of awakened love seems like an AI-generated piece of fake news.
But alas, divine seeds lie underneath the thick snow of our unbelief. As crazy as it sounds, a springtime of glory is poised to break through the hard soil of hearts currently frozen behind walls of grief, doubt, and religiosity. And the message the King brings to the Shulamite in this part of the Song is that this glorious springtime has already come.
In case you’ve forgotten, the King in this story is Jesus Christ. Earlier in the Song we looked at the glory of his crucifixion and all that this event communicates. Now we come to the power of his resurrection, the world-changing event that followed his tragic death.
Jesus emerged from a tomb, one that was not unlike the countless graves covering the earth like pale frost binding bodies into a frozen void. Nonetheless, his resurrection was the “first-fruits” of a new spring. As the One who stands in our place, representing all humanity together, the resurrection of Christ reveals that under the weight of death there lay seeds of indestructible glory.
Jesus was and is the true almond tree. For this reason, he calls to the Shulamite, the human soul still feeling the frozen pressures of life. He calls through the guilt, shame, and unbelief still bringing sleep to the eyes and covering us in spiritual tombs. His words crack through these perceptions, telling us that even if it seems like a totally alien realm, resurrection glory is here. In fact, it’s already inside waiting to break forth.
This is all possible because of our union with Jesus. We are not only united with him in his death, but also in the momentous occasion of his resurrection. Therefore, this is also a key part of the “kiss” our sleeping souls need to receive. Since we are united with the risen Christ, we can begin accessing the eternal springtime now.
… We have been co-resurrected with him so that we could be empowered to walk in the freshness of new life. For since we are permanently grafted into him to experience a death like his, then we are permanently grafted into him to experience a resurrection like his and the new life that it imparts.
Romans 6:4-5 TPT
Even though it may feel impossibly hidden, the life and joy of the Spirit is ready to bud upon the branches of our lives. We can arise like Christ, for each of us are a branch on the eternal almond tree of his glory.
How the Ice Melts
Buried under the darkness, the promise of the cosmos remains. Our fine-tuned universe is destined to bloom with the colors of a triune spring. The resurrected Christ is the glad announcement of this reality. He is the first-fruits, and we are called to join him in a harvest of divine life.
On that note, there is a holiday the Hebrew people were given during the celebration of the “first-fruits” of the spring harvest. Many know it by the name Pentecost. In the book of Acts, the Spirit of God came during this special feast. However, instead of a dove, the Spirit appeared as flames of fire.
Fire, of course, is what melts ice. In the same way, the gift of God’s Spirit breaks down our icy barrenness and releases a garden within. The Shulamite began to taste of this earlier, but unfortunately cowered back behind her wall. Nonetheless, the Lord comes to her again, encouraging her by saying, “I hear the cooing of doves in our land.” He’s reminding her that Pentecost has come. We are not waiting for something new. We are waking up to what has already been released in the resurrection of Jesus.
And with that, his words continue:
Can you not discern this new day of destiny breaking forth around you?
The early signs of my purposes and plans are bursting forth.
The budding vines of new life are now blooming everywhere.
The fragrance of their flowers whispers,
“There is change in the air.”
Arise, my love, my beautiful companion,
and run with me to the higher place.
For now is the time to arise and come away with me.
Song 1:13 TPT
Chapter Eighteen: Fox and Dove
The Shulamite’s journey heralds the voice of the Maker to every human soul: The new day has come! Wake up from your slumber!
In this, we see the soul’s resistance to such words. Thankfully though, the King will not abandon his pursuit of the beloved Shulamite. He words continue to flow like a river of irresistible force…
For you are my dove, hidden in the split-open rock.
It was I who took you and hid you up high
in the secret stairway of the sky.
Let me see your radiant face
and hear your sweet voice…
Song 2:14 TPT
We have some new symbols to crack open here, particularly the “split-open rock.” When we unfold the larger treasure map of scripture, the meaning of this becomes unmistakable. Christ is not only the “rock” of our salvation (as Solomon’s father wrote in the Psalms); the apostle Paul also connects Christ to a specific rock during the days of Moses—one that was split open.
They all ate the same heavenly manna and drank water from the same spiritual rock that traveled with them—and that Rock was Christ himself.
1 Corinthians 10:3-4 TPT
Paul is referring to when the Hebrew people approached Moses with a frantic demand for water, having been wandering in the wilderness without anything to drink. In response, God told Moses to speak to a rock that would somehow supply water for them. Unfortunately, Moses didn’t listen. He struck the rock multiple times with his rod, but in the grace of God water still gushed forth (Numbers 20:11).
This strange story turns into a prophetic image of the One who would be struck by religious leaders who used the law of Moses against him. Jesus’s body was pierced—split open—and this led to both water and blood flowing out from his side (John 19:34). As we’ve discussed, this was done in order to release a river of life within humanity once again.
Now, if you remember, the Shulamite came to the Shepherd with a similar thirst. She longed for the Spirit’s kiss, the only thing that could bring her back into the springtime glory of Eden. Even though it’s been difficult to receive because of the lattice over the eyes of her heart, God answered the Shulamite’s request with the kiss of original blessing.
He is now continuing to speak of this original blessing as he once again compares her to a dove. But now he goes deeper, calling her a dove hidden within his wounds. This poetic picture of Jesus’s work on the cross depicts us as the beloved of God, surrounded and covered by grace. Anything that speaks contrarily to our “dove” identity has been separated from us. In other words, the sin that stood opposed to us and condemned us has been crucified with Christ’s body.
But now we come to this other part of the gospel’s kiss as it penetrates the Shulamite’s walls. He tells her she is hidden in “the secret stairway of the sky.” The Shepherd is calling her to wake up and smell the reality of her full union with Jesus. Not only are her sins taken care of—she is now co-resurrected with Christ. His plea to then see her face and hear her voice is another invitation to come away from the wall that doubts this perfect union with his death and resurrection.
The Fox of Separation
Unfortunately, we still see some resistance from his beloved one.
Catch the foxes for us,
The little foxes that are ruining the vineyards,
While our vineyards are in blossom.
Song 2:15 NASB95
She speaks of the sly little creatures that sneak through fencing around vineyards and eat away at newly budding grapes. Grapes, of course, are the main ingredient in wine, another recurring symbol packed with treasure. It appears the Shulamite understands that the “vineyard” of the Spirit’s life is blossoming within her. Yet behind her sleepy wall of fear, she worries about things eating away at this life, things that steal love, joy, peace, and every other variety of his heavenly vintage (Galatians 5:22-23).
This seems then like another noble request, but we’ll find in the final part of her statement how a core lie is continuing to impact her perspective…
My beloved is mine, and I am his.
He feeds his flock among the lilies.
Until the day breaks
And the shadows flee away,
Turn, my beloved,
And be like a gazelle
Or a young stag
Upon the mountains of Bether.
Song 2:16-17
To spot this lie, we have to do some digging into the original language in which this poem was written. This passage begins with a beautiful declaration that she belongs to her Beloved. This is wonderful. It shows just how far the Shulamite’s come. Even in her weakness, the Song of the Lamb is breaking through. The victorious banner of love is beginning to roll off her tongue with greater ease.
And yet, a sour note creeps through. Like a little fox, discord enters the Song as the Shulamite rejects his invitation and tells him to turn away. Though she acknowledges their love, she says she will not come away from her wall until the day breaks and the shadows flee away.
The reason, we find, is that she’s waiting for the darkness around her (and whatever else she perceives within) to completely vanish—to flee away. Until this happens, she believes she cannot receive the word that calls her a precious dove. In other words, because of some lingering darkness, the Shulamite cannot come away from the wall that fragments her views of God and herself.
There is also a hint here of someone waiting for what the scriptures call “the day of the Lord,” what many understand to be the time of Christ’s physical return to earth. Because of this perspective, the Shulamite has a hard time accepting that a springtime of resurrection glory has already come, and that she is already lovely, perfect, and victorious.
It seems then that she does not want to walk by faith in her Beloved’s kiss…
This insinuation is confirmed by her final statement. She compares her Beloved to a gazelle running on a specific mountain range in Israel called Bether. This is yet another symbolic term unveiling a mystery to the seeking reader.
The name of this mountain range means “division” or “separation.” It tells us that the Shulamite sees Christ in all his resurrected glory as separate from her. One day the shadows will flee away, she says. A bodily resurrection and all the promises of the end of the age will manifest. Then our faith will be made sight, and we can join Jesus on the mountain of victorious living. But now there are shadows and foxes getting in the way.
But this does not appear to be the Shepherd’s perspective. He invites her to rise like an almond tree that blossoms with resurrection life even while the unbelieving world still experiences a lingering “winter.”
This part of the poem captures so poignantly the fractured beliefs of Christians throughout the ages. We confess that our Beloved is fully ours—we are in him and he in us—yet we still live and sing and pray as though union is far away and can only be attained by scaling massive walls of religious sacrifice. And at the same time, we believe this union isn’t even attainable until we die and get to heaven … or when the day breaks and Jesus returns.
But what if this is the real fox? What if the little lie slipping in is a denial of our perfect union with our Beloved?
Yes, a global springtime of resurrection will manifest across the nations in ways beyond our imagination. But why should we limit ourselves today? Why give in to a lie that says the blossoming of righteousness is not fully ours now; and that his beauty and fragrance do not dwell upon us at this very moment?
Oh, maybe partially, we say. But we can’t claim it all for ourselves just yet. The dove that landed on Jesus remained there, but it only sits on our shoulders momentarily—and only if we’re reading our Bible, fasting, or praying intensely. Most of the time, however, the dove just leaves and hovers, waiting for us to fight off more shadows.
But this is the crux of the matter. Shadows do not have any substance to them! That sense of a lingering separation is a dark nothingness. Therefore, the call remains the same:
Arise, my love, into the truth
that you are already one with me
in both my death and resurrection.
Yes, you are my perfect dove,
hidden in the eternal shelter of my wounds,
and raised into the heights of heaven’s wonders.
Chapter Nineteen: Babylon and Zion
Earlier we took a wide angle shot of the treasure map of the written word. We saw a panoramic view of the human journey captured in two opposing images—a veiled harlot and an unveiled bride. In parallel to these two images is the same truth put into an architectural metaphor instead of a feminine one. Across scripture, right to the very end, we find two opposing cities—the city of Babylon and the city of Zion. Or, in Revelation, the “New Jerusalem.”
Metaphors only go so far, so utilizing a city instead of a woman reveals different facets of the same truth. In this case, it speaks to the human race as a whole, including our transfer from an economy of darkness into the prosperity of God’s original image.
This metaphor makes an appearance in this next part of the Song as we see the veiled Shulamite going on a fruitless search through a city.
By night on my bed I sought the one I love;
I sought him, but I did not find him.
“I will rise now,” I said,
“And go about the city;
In the streets and in the squares
I will seek the one I love.”
I sought him, but I did not find him.
Song 3:1-2
Before this scene, the Shulamite was behind her wall resisting the Shepherd’s call to come away. Now we see her lying in a bed, which we can only assume is where she’s been the whole time. The veil, the wall, and now a bed of sleep all communicate the same message. It’s the same as the veiled prostitute, which now connects to this city known as the Harlot Babylon (Revelation 17). This all speaks to a world spiritually asleep to the grace and truth of God. It’s the life of restlessness that builds entire governments and economies on the broken foundation of insecurity and striving.
She starts seeking the Beloved while on her bed and finds nothing (which you’d expect if your search is limited to your bedframe). Such is the fruit of being spiritually asleep to our union with God. We end up striving after his presence in vain since there’s a veil (or wall) keeping us from seeing the truth.
The Shulamite then states her desire to rise and go about a city. This seems like a great thing at first, as though she’s finally realizing she must leave her state of sleep. Unfortunately, he’s not found in the city either. This is because the city is nothing more than a continued dream state as she remains behind the false security of her wall. (And we’ll see how subsequent chapters reveal that she is still in bed, dreaming.)
Going into the “streets” and “squares” of the city is about going into the realm of religion to find God. This is the way of Babylon, the city of man’s self-inspired and self-defined efforts at godliness.
The word “squares” is particularly telling. It’s a word that literally means “a broad way.” Jesus warned about the broad paths. He said broad is the way that leads to destruction and narrow is the path to true life (Matthew 7:13). The broad places are man’s efforts, the splintered paths billions take throughout the world in a desperate search for true life. The narrow path, meanwhile, is so narrow that only One Man could fit through it. Christ and his finished work is the narrow path of salvation.
Now keep in mind at this point in her journey that the Shulamite has already tasted Jesus’s goodness. This scene does not necessarily mean she is searching for God through paths other than Christ. There are plenty of religious paths right within the world of Christendom. Such is the reason Paul wrote to a group of believers who had tasted grace and yet still needed the following reminder:
For you were included in the death of Christ and have died with him to the religious system and powers of this world. Don’t retreat back to being bullied by the standards and opinions of religion…
Colossians 2:20 TPT
It’s interesting that before her venture down these different avenues, the Shulamite first says she must rise to go about the city. There is indeed a type of “rising” that looks like spiritual growth when it is actually self-righteousness. It is a treadmill of self-effort that makes you feel like you’re getting somewhere (if you put enough sweat into it), and yet it only leads to disappointment with repetitive cycles of guilt, renewed motivation, and more guilt. Paul addresses this when he continues his thoughts to the Colossians:
I know that these regulations look wise with their self-inspired efforts at worship, their policy of self-humbling, and their studied neglect of the body. But in actual practice they do honour, not to God, but to man’s own pride.
Colossians 2:22-23 PHILLIPS
The Fringes
Fortunately, the Shulamite’s search brings her to the outer edges of the city. She comes across the watchmen, men who were posted at the walls surrounding ancient communities.
The watchmen who go about the city found me;
I said, “Have you seen the one I love?”
Scarcely had I passed by them,
When I found the one I love.
I held him and would not let him go,
Until I had brought him to the house of my mother,
And into the chamber of her who conceived me.
Song 3:3-4
Because she finally “passed by” these men, we can assume she’s leaving the boundaries of the city. In other words, she’s moving past the gatekeepers of systems built around guilt, shame, and dualistic identities. It doesn’t come as a surprise then that she begins sensing her Beloved’s presence right away.
Such is the path for many who find God in the outer fringes of man’s systems (including well-intentioned “Christian” ones). So many in their pursuit for something authentic find themselves in the same place, moving to the edges of what others deemed acceptable or normal.
The Shulamite has re-encountered the Lover of her soul. Though we’ll find that she is still asleep and that more revelation is needed, this is a wonderful moment of relief. She continues to grow in her awareness of the Trinity’s loving presence, even in the midst of perceived darkness.
In this moment of encouragement, something is stated that we’ll return to much later—something holding a great mystery spanning all of scripture and all human history. In this fresh experience of his presence, the Shulamite says she wants to bring her Shepherd into “the house of her mother.” Without saying too much now, this speaks to something that arises naturally when we experience freedom. We long to share that freedom with others, especially with those who are still bound up in religion. This is a desire in the Shulamite’s heart that will grow and mature throughout the rest of her journey.
To be truly fruitful, however, she must first awaken more herself. This reality of a continued state of sleep is what we see in the next verse:
“I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem,
By the gazelles or by the hinds of the field,
That you will not arouse or awaken my love
Until she pleases.“
Song 3:5
But this difficult note will lead to one of the most breathtaking parts of the Song. A stunning vision is about to break through the lattice on her soul, even as she continues sleeping restlessly through a veiled night.
Chapter Twenty: Fire and Gladness
People like to divide the terms “judgment” and “grace,” but they are one. The deeper we go into the grace-filled kiss of God, the more we realize it’s also a sword that cuts down our false ways. We find this dimension of grace hidden in another part of the Old Testament in the writings a prophet named Hosea. Through him, God compared Israel to an unfaithful harlot and brought her into a wilderness of judgment. But look at what he says to her…
Therefore, behold, I will allure her,
Will bring her into the wilderness,
And speak comfort to her.
Hosea 2:14
The wilderness now shows up in the Shulamite’s journey. We just saw her leave the boundaries of a city, here we’ll see her leave the boundaries of the wilderness.
Who is this coming out of the wilderness
Like pillars of smoke,
Perfumed with myrrh and frankincense,
With all the merchant’s fragrant powders?
Song 3:6
The veil, the wall, the bed, and the city all pointed to the same issue. They spoke of a worldwide mindset and lifestyle of spiritual harlotry, the very thing from which God is waking up the human soul. Now another symbol is thrown into the mix—the desert. The place of barrenness and wandering. This is a different image, but it carries the same meaning as the rest.
When God spoke of bringing Israel into the wilderness through Hosea, it was the culmination of a fiery judgment upon their prostituting ways. Yet it all led to Israel receiving words of comfort—a kiss, you might say. From there, the wandering harlot is transformed into a beautiful bride (see Hosea 2:15-20).
That brings us back to the final pages of scripture. For when the apostle John received a vision of the harlot city, we find her in a wilderness, and it is there she is engulfed in a heap of smoke.
So he carried me away in the Spirit into the wilderness. And I saw a woman sitting on a scarlet beast which was full of names of blasphemy… The kings of the earth who committed fornication and lived luxuriously with her will weep and lament for her, when they see the smoke of her burning, standing at a distance for fear of her torment, saying, “Alas, alas, that great city Babylon, that mighty city! For in one hour your judgment has come.” And the merchants of the earth will weep and mourn over her…
Revelation 17:3, 18:9-11
The dramatic vision of judgment in the wilderness is then followed by the emergence of a different city—a bridal city.
It’s not hard to see that the destruction of Babylon by fire is a picture of humanity’s harlotry being judged in the flames of love. Yet this is all to unveil our true identity and original blessing—the beloved dove behind the wall.
The King’s Ark
As we look out into the wilderness in Solomon’s poetry, the first things we see are clouds of fragrant smoke. It is as though a bomb went off in a marketplace and all the merchants’ spices were blasted into the air. As the smoke clears, something else emerges.
Behold, it is Solomon’s couch,
With sixty valiant men around it,
Of the valiant of Israel.
Song 3:7
Though this translation calls it a “couch,” this is really a palanquin, one of those covered carriages that held ancient kings as they were carried by servants holding it up on poles. The symbolism here is rich and plentiful, and we don’t have the time to unpack all the meaning, so we’ll just jump right to the heart of the message by looking at the ninth verse:
The king made this mercy seat for himself
out of the finest wood that will not decay.
Song 3:9 TPT
It turns out the Shulamite is receiving a vision of the Ark of the Covenant. This Ark was Yahweh’s palanquin. As the true King of Israel, God’s presence was enthroned upon this royal “mercy seat” and held on poles carried by priestly servants. This seat would be stained with blood each year so that the nation’s prostituting ways might be forgiven (Leviticus 16). The word “covenant” in its title pointed to the New Covenant of Jesus, when there would be a great exchange of his life for our darkness.
Now think back for a moment to the harlot in the wilderness. John had also seen her holding a “cup” filled with abominations (Revelation 17:4). When Jesus came to earth, he was called to drink a terrible cup of judgment on our behalf (Matthew 26:39). As he entered the wilderness of our death, he was also given a scarlet robe, the same color as the beast the harlot rode upon. Furthermore, he was surrounded by sword wielding soldiers who marched him up Calvary’s hill after he was publicly branded a blasphemer.
All of this connects to the vision of Revelation as well as the images hidden in Solomon’s Song. The mystery here is that Jesus took upon himself our beastly, prostituting identity. This is what penetrates the Shulamite’s eyes, and it is sealed with the final words of the chapter:
Go forth, O daughters of Zion,
And see King Solomon with the crown
With which his mother crowned him
On the day of his wedding,
The day of the gladness of his heart.
Song 3:11
On that fateful day of his suffering, Jesus also bore a crown. His “mother” (as in the nation of Israel who had painfully carried the promise of a Messiah in the womb of her existence) had crowned Jesus with thorns. And so, even though Solomon’s poem seems to be describing a happy occasion, it is actually painting a vivid portrait of Jesus’s crucifixion.
Of course, this was indeed a happy day, a Good Friday as we call it. For Jesus went through this experience for the joy set before him (see Hebrews 12:2). He did this to bring an absolute destruction upon the veil that blinded our eyes and perverted our paths. Jesus endured the cross because he knew it would restore the person behind the veil. Someone who was not just a child of the Creator, but a perfect counterpart to the Son of God … a bride.
We see this hidden in the book of Genesis through the characters of Adam and Eve. In the story, Adam’s bride Eve emerges from within him—from the very bones surrounding his heart—and he is overcome by joy when he sees her. He exclaims, “This is bone of my bone, and flesh of my flesh!” This scene of a unique and yet perfect partner becomes a foreshadow of humanity’s identity before Christ—an identity that has been hidden by that corrupting veil of deception.
Therefore, this moment in the Song is truly depicting “the day of his wedding, the day of the gladness of his heart.” At the cross, Jesus was redeeming humankind’s “bridal” status, enacting a new covenant of union based on his continued love for us. It was truly a day of great joy in his heart, even though it looked quite the opposite in the moment.
Furthermore, when Jesus said his final words—it is finished—the prophetic vision of John came true: In one hour, her destruction came.
Swiftly, God lay his fiery judgment upon the false identity. With blazing grace, Jesus forgave our participation in darkness and separated us from its false claims. “In the Son all our sins are canceled,” wrote Paul, “and we have the release of redemption through his very blood” (Colossians 1:14 TPT).
The true bride was always there, but she was hidden behind deception’s covering. So, Jesus redeemed the truth that we are his beloved counterpart and friend. He put away that beastly veil by taking it on his own body and carrying it away into the grave. At the same time, the veil in Solomon’s temple was torn, a sign that the universal veil over humanity had been put to death!
Such is the meaning of this strange vision of a Mercy Seat coming out of the wilderness. In his suffering love, the great Shepherd put us on his shoulders and carried us out of the wilderness of our harlotry.
And this truth will now build to an unimaginable crescendo in the next set of words that flow from his mouth…