Book Review: "Wounded I Sing: The Song of Songs and the Incarnation of the Son of God"

A friend recently sent me a copy of Timothy J. Kelly's Wounded I Sing: The Song of Songs and the Incarnation of the Son of God (Os Justi Press, 2026), with the promise that it was right up my theological alley. I was not familiar with Kelly, but he had impressive credentials—professor of dogmatic theology at the International Theological Institute in Truman, Austria and a research fellow of Blackfriar Hall, Oxford. The book also had ringing endorsements from some of my favorite scholars and writers: Fr. John Saward, Scott Hahn, John Bergsma, and Stephen K. Ray. After finishing the book, I add a hearty "Amen!" This four-chapter book takes longer than expected to finish, because its profundity of thought and beauty of expression move you to turn from the text to prayer.

The first chapter was like a return to grad school: This God Who is incomprehensible in His essence, discloses Himself to us by way of analogy to His creation. We must constantly remind ourselves that "however pure the perfection the name might evoke, however immaterial and actual the perfection signified, He infinitely surpasses it and exceeds the constraints our intelligence inevitably associates with the term" (Wounded, 19). In Scripture He goes even further, inspiring its authors to express His love for man via the language of our material passions, our human condition. Such metaphorical use of language, however, finds its embodiment in the Incarnation of the Word. In Christ Jesus and the Church, the spousal relationship between God and Israel described by the prophets achieves an undreamt-of reality.

This leads into a fascinating chapter exploring Jewish and Christian interpretation of the Old Testament's Song of Songs. It is a text which never mentions God and, taken at face value, is a love song in which the affection between lovers is "manifested by way of the language of eros, of human desire" and "embodied, conjugal relations" (Wounded, 37). Even so, the ancient rabbis recognized it as speaking of God's election of Israel; and the first century historian Josephus recorded how it had to be read in its entirety during the Feast of Passover. Christians such as Origen and Gregory the Great interpreted it "in light of the arrival of the Messiah and of the spousal perfections exemplified in His Passion" (Wounded, 40). Kelly then guides us through the Christological interpretation of the Song among medieval writers such as Bernard of Clairvaux, Thomas Aquinas, and William of St. Thierry. (I appreciated Kelly's in-depth footnotes as well as Os Justi Press's wide margins where I could make notations.)

The second half of the book, its final two sections, are a wide-ranging discussion of Christ as the Bridegroom, who bodily manifests His love for the Church in His total gift of Self upon the Cross and in the Eucharist. We consider the full reality of Christ's humanity, soteriology, divinization, created and Uncreated Love, the Blessed Mother, the Theology of the Body, etc. Kelly's insights into the Gospel of John and explication of Saints Thomas and John Chrysostom's Eucharistic teaching alone would have sold me on the book. Kelly employs the Song of Songs to expound upon the most central mysteries of our faith and life. It is profound—theology that moves you to contemplation.