Love is a Black Hole

Song of Solomon repeats this warning about love:

I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem,
by the gazelles or the does of the field,
that you not stir up or awaken love
until it pleases. (Song of Solomon 2:7; 3:5; cf. 8:4)

Having pondered those words a couple of weeks back, I've been oddly reminded of them since. I've had trouble waking up lately, especially today, when I went to bed early enough but still hit the snooze for a good 90 minutes. At least I made it to work on time, but Saturday I regret how late I slept. A good friend was visiting, and we foolishly stayed up past 3 AM, rambling on about bitter failed relationships. Thinking back in light of the text above, I realized that at least one of my errors was that I awakened love too soon; I jumped in when I should've waited and sought wisdom. My friend planned to wake up at 8:30 to meet another friend for breakfast, and I set my alarm for 9:15 thinking he'd either wake me before leaving or wait until I woke up. When I woke up at 9:15, he was gone without a trace, and actually I haven't heard from him since.

Sunday night when I picked up some white canned coca-cola classic from Food Lion, a deer was loose in the store, apparently a fawn that had been hit by a car on Herlong Ave. I went to the back of the store to see it, but it was in the back room, and the swinging door was spattered with blood. Police and animal control were there; it was a bizarre scene.

Why "by the gazelles or the does..."? Why is love compared to a sleeper not to be stirred up? Is prematurely awakened love grumpy? I don't know the answers to these questions. I do know that the other subjects of deer imagery in the song are...interesting. And I know that I have made the mistake numerous times of awakening love prematurely, and the results have been disastrous.

Tonight I read this New York Times article about the discovery of supermassive black holes. It ends thus:

Astronomers also think the supermassive black holes in galaxies could be the missing link between the early universe and today. In the early days of the universe, quasars, thought to be powered by giant black holes in cataclysmic feeding frenzies, were fountaining energy into space.

Where are those quasars now? The new work supports a growing suspicion that those formerly boisterous black holes are among us now, but, having stopped their boisterous growth, are sleeping.

Mr. McConnell said, “Our discovery of extremely massive black holes in the largest present-day galaxies suggests that these galaxies could be the ancient remains of voracious ancestors.”

Let’s try not to awaken them.

At first I didn't understand how black holes could power quasars that "fountain" energy into space, but after further reflection I realize that the light and energy put off by the quasar might be from the stars that haven't yet "gone down the drain". But I was struck by the final sentence: "Let's try not to awaken them." It's a joke, of course, but it served to alert me to the possibility that black holes bear some resemblance to love. Solomon or whoever wrote the song wasn't aware of black holes, but he chose something that was to the ancients probably as mysterious and fearful as black holes are to us today:

for love is strong as death,
jealousy is fierce as the grave.
Its flashes are flashes of fire,
the very flame of the LORD. (Song of Solomon 8:6)

The word translated "the very flame of the LORD" (yes, that's one word in Hebrew) is שַׁלְהֶ֥בֶתְיָֽה, which is also found in Job 15:30: "he will not depart from darkness; the flame will dry up his shoots, and by the breath of his mouth he will depart" (Job 15:30 ESV). The preceding phrase "he will not depart from darkness" is at least interesting in this context of deep space objects with such strong fields of gravity that not even light escapes. And I wonder how much love is like a flame, a hurricane, or a black hole: love pulls together, consumes, makes those under its spell more bright and energetic, yet doesn't reveal its secrets to those who look on from the outside. I think I'll let that one lie.

As usual, I'm reminded of musical poetry by these thoughts, but I can't decide to go with "won't you wrap the night around me?...love is drowning in a deep well, all the secrets, and no one to tell..." or "the wreckless raging fury that they call the love of God." So I'll go with both. Enjoy.