How would you define the “Gospel”? Orthodoxy is unanimous in its assertion that at the heart of whatever the Gospel is, at its core stands the death, resurrection, and ascension of Jesus. Paul states, “For Christ did not sent me to baptize but to preach the Gospel, lest the cross of Christ be emptied of its power” (1 Cor. 1:17). The power of the Gospel is derivative of the cross of Christ. Ironic isn’t it? The power of the Gospel lies in God’s letting go of all His rights and enduring the horror of Calvary.
1,500 years prior to Golgotha, Moses murdered a man in Egypt. He fled Pharaoh’s wrath and eventually ended up near a well in Midian (East of Egypt). Moses met a shepherd name Reuel, married his daughter, and entered into the family business. Exodus three picks up the story,
Now Moses was keeping the flock of his father-in-law, Jethro, the priest of Midian, and he led his flock to the west side of the wilderness and came to Horeb, the mountain of God (v. 1).
Suddenly, an angel of the LORD appears to the aging shepherd and out of a burning bush God speaks to him,
I have surely seen the affliction of my people who are in Egypt and have heard their cry because of their taskmasters. I know their sufferings, and I have come down to deliver them out of the hand of the Egyptians and to bring them up and out of that land to a good and broad land, a land flowing with milk and honey…” (v. 7-8).
Milk and honey. Interesting way to put it, God. Why not, “a land of gold and jewels”? Or, how about, “I am going to build an empire out of my oppressed people”? Milk and honey.
It’s important to understand that Moses’ context was Egypt. He apparently grew up within close proximity to the most powerful man on the planet: Pharaoh (Ex. 2:1-10). Why was Pharaoh so powerful? Simple: he owned the Nile River. It’s no accident that the Egyptians and Babylonians trade places as world-dominating empires for much of the first 3000 years of recorded human history. Egypt had the Nile, Babylon had the Euphrates. Both empires occupied vast stretches of relatively flat land which allowed irrigation, and therefore wheat farming to occur. Powerful rivers, flat lands, and effective irrigation: the perfect ingredients for empire building.
When most people read God’s description of the future dwelling place of ancient Israel, “A land of milk and honey,” they think, “BMW’s, ivory palaces, and overweight men sitting on leather couches, lighting massive cigars with hundred dollar bills.”
Israel is different than Babylon (Southern Iraq) and Egypt. It has no powerful river (the Jordan River is barely a trickle at most places), and possesses the topographical variety of California within a space half the size of New Jersey (i.e. it’s not flat). Milk and honey was likely not a euphemism for prosperity, but rather a statement God used to juxtapose the land that would become Israel with Egypt. Milk was not generally produced by cows, but by sheep or goats (which would imply a shepherding lifestyle). Honey likely referred to a paste that was make from figs (implying only limited agricultural possibility [thus the need to supplement agriculture with shepherding]). Moses clarifies any confusion on the eve of the Israelite entry into Canaan,
For the land you are entering to take possession of it is not like the land of Egypt, from which you have come, where you sowed your seed and irrigated it, like a garden of vegetables. But the land that you are going over to possess is a land of hills and valleys, which drinks water by the rain from heaven, a land that the LORD your God cares for. The eyes of the LORD your God are always upon it, from the beginning of the year to the end of the year (Deut. 11:10-12).
What does this mean from a practical, agricultural standpoint. Simple: In Israel, God had better come through, or else nothing survives. Typically, it rains only about five months out of the year (November through April). From May to November there isn’t a drop. Instead of the winds carrying moisture form the Mediterranean, during the Spring and Summer months, the winds reverse and the Arabian deserts carries into all corners of Israel nothing but hot, dry air. If the rains don’t come during the winter months, there’s no food for an entire year. This happens from time to time.
Israel is a land that God, Himself cares for and looks after, which means you had better trust, obey and cling to Him. A clear picture of the Gospel is painted in God’s calling and carrying of Israel from the plentiful (though oppressive) land of Egypt into the faith-sharpening crucible of Canaan.
‘Then he isn’t safe?’ said Lucy.
‘Safe?’ said Mr. Beaver; ‘don’t you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the king I tell you.’
So what do vineyards have to do with the broken and treacherous ground of the Promised Land? More importantly, what do they have to do with the topic at hand (in case you’ve forgotten), The Song of Songs?
O my dove, in the clefts of the rock, in the crannies of the cliff, let me see your face, let me hear your voice, for your voice is sweet and your face is lovely. Catch the foxes for us, the little foxes that spoil the vineyards, for our vineyards are in blossom (Song of Songs 2:14-15).
Next to wheat, grapes are the second largest crop produced in the Promised Land. However, unlike wheat, tending vineyards is an exercise in extreme patience. Here’s a glimpse into how the process works:
1. Establish Vineyard: build terraces, clear the largest stones, cut a winepress (probably into bedrock), and plant vines.
2. Wait three to five years for vines begin to actually produce grapes.
3. Once vines mature: Remove stones, repair terrace walls (because hillsides erode every year in places where vineyards grow), plow ground, kill weeds and create mulch.
4. Prepare for first harvest (again, after everything goes perfectly during the three-five years of maturation): build a watchtower to guard against thieves and wild animals, prune, tend, spill sweat to reap a harvest of a few bunches of grapes.
Establishing and caring for a vineyard is an all consuming process, and therefore provides a beautiful metaphor for love. Solomon is perhaps the least-likely candidate to heed such a lesson. 1 Kings tells us,
Now Solomon loved many foreign women, along with the daughter of Pharaoh: Moabite, Ammonite, Edomite, Sidonian, and Hittite women, from the nations concerning which the LORD had said to the people of Israel, ‘You shall not enter into marriage with them, neither shall they with you, for surely, they will turn away your heart after their gods,’ Solomon clung to these in love. He had 700 wives, princesses, and 300 concubines. And his wives turned away his heart” (1 Kings 11:1-3).
Needless to say, Solomon was NOT the most patient man around. When he saw a woman he fancied, based strictly on the numbers above, he made her his own.
There was apparently something different about the beloved one mentioned in the Song of Songs. The power of their love was turning his heart away from the flippant and selfish sorts of relationships he had known for so long, and the two had given their love time. The grape vine was beginning to blossom. The woman is speaking here and is apparently well aware of the fact that there were forces in Solomon’s life, other forces, which were eager to draw his away from the kind of honorable love that was on the verge of produce the fruit of patience–let’s call them foxes.
Songs of Songs is a poetic book that possesses deep echos of the unfolding narrative of redemption. There no reason why a king would choose to pursue a shepherdess, but he does. And in so doing, we, the readers, are confronted with the undeniable fact that weak things (like Shulammite women) possess the propensity to teach us a thing or two about the Kingdom of God. Patience, honor, the hidden blessing in being still and knowing that while our momentary cravings continuously craw at our hearts, God will provide what we need for today. He proved it to Moses, to the people of ancient Israel (as long as they clung to Him), to the king as his beloved (as they waited and trusted), and God is poised to do the same for us.
My time in the land of milk and honey continues to testify to this remarkable truth.


Been reading your entries. Pastor Paul G. has been emailing them out. Loving them! Sounds like you’re loving the experience as well. Blessings to you!