Honey, Wax, and the Shell

I suffer pains until Christ is formed in you. They do not become outside of the belly; they are not orphaned. Moreover, 'has my heart become like melting wax?' (Psalm 51:7). I said that what is said about it according to the human might be said also about everything righteous. His heart, when it is not light, but has something material mixed in, melts. But toward the beautiful, the melting happens; for the melting wax does not become outside of the one having it. 'In the midst' therefore 'of my belly.'

Concerning the intelligible, different names signify the same thing. I call the sheep an intelligible thing which is under the true Shepherd. This sheep is also called light in another way. Indeed, having once been asked by a philosopher whether I have something to say from the Scripture that the soul is incorporeal, I said these things: every name of a body signifies only that alone by which it is called. For example, the sensible vine is nothing other than a vine, and the stone which is so named bodily is nothing other than a stone. But when many dissimilar things are spoken of concerning the same essence, it is clear that this essence is an intelligible one also we speak concerning God that He is incorporeal, since He is also named light and fire and spirit and spring. These things cannot be anything bodily, but according to an intention. And such intentions concern the intelligible.

If, therefore, the man or the soul is called light, and is also called a sheep and a plant—for it is indeed called both a plant and a sheep—it cannot bodily be all these things, so that it is an intelligible essence. If, therefore, you hear it spoken concerning the soul, you hear it spoken concerning a heart, an intellect, a belly, a spring; and for it is indeed called both a plant and a sheep, do not take it according to sensation. The vessel, therefore, of the soul, in which it receives spiritual nourishments, is called a belly. Furthermore, since it is also generative, one possesses this belly both as receiving nourishments and as giving birth. You know that the wax is a follower of the honey. The composition of the honey existed previously, and because of the honey there is the wax, not because of the wax there is the honey. And just as regarding a plant, the fruit is not because of the leaf, but the leaf is because of the fruit—for it is a protector of the fruit—so the wax is not something preceding, but a follower. If, therefore, the soul...

If it possesses the preceding virtues, it is honey. But if, along with those, it has something of matter mixed in, it is wax. For this reason, he says that the sinners melt like wax 'from the presence of fire'. Honey, however, is praiseworthy; it is a preceding substance, and it signifies sweetness. Just as to sweeten is to have a healing quality. Therefore, the 35 preceding things of the soul—which are good both in movements and in activities—resemble honey; but the second things, having something of the sensible and material mixed in, are wax.

Thus a man sometimes melts; the material sometimes falls away from the intellect and the heart, so that the mind no longer has anything entangled with it, but is entirely incorporeal, just as it surpassed the beginning. 'My strength has dried up like a shell' (Ps 101:7). My strength has cast off all moisture and all liquidity, as if it had been thrown aside like a shell. And it can be said otherwise: that which is muddy in us—and you know what that is—if it remains mud, it is dissolved by the passing of moisture. But when it takes on dryness and casts off all the moisture from without from the matter, it dries up according to the shell.

Each of the examples taken is taken according to something. This is often said; for if it were taken from everything, it would not be an example, but that very thing which we wish to show. Therefore, the shell is often mocked in this way: a vessel made of shell, if broken, they say, does not receive liquid, nor can it be glued. I say in another way: that which is made from clay, when it is hardened by fire and a kiln, casts off the soft and the easily broken. Thus 'my strength' 'has dried up like a shell'. We take it in both ways: it no longer has any moisture, nor a muddy state. It can also be taken otherwise: it has cast off all bitterness from the much approaching affliction.

'And my tongue is stuck to my jaws' (Ps 118:13). It is the custom of Scripture to speak of the sticking of the tongue to the throat to mean silence. Since my sweet things are no longer present, and since those concerning me and my listeners are no longer present, lest I seem to carry the word in vain, I have been silent: 'my tongue is stuck to my throat'. But it is not stuck when we are conversing. Through the movement of the tongue, the word is carried forth. But when it is stuck to the throat, it is silence.