Moralia in Job 1347

What Scripture understands by 'shadow.' Overshadowing in the sacred word is sometimes put for the incarnation of the Lord, or for the refreshment of the mind from the fervour of carnal thoughts, whence by the appellation of 'shadow,' this very refreshment of the heart from the supernal protection is wont to be intimated. But sometimes 'shadow,' charity receding, is taken for the torpor of a cold mind. For that the Lord's incarnation, the truth of the history being preserved, is signified by the appellation of overshadowing, the angelic word testifies, which says to Mary: The power of the Most High shall overshadow you (Luke 1:35). For because a shadow is not otherwise produced except by light and a body, the power of the Most High overshadowed her, because in her womb the incorporeal light took a body.

From that shading, then, the mind receives within itself its whole refreshment. Again, by 'shade' is expressed the refreshment of the heart that comes from protection on high, as the Psalmist says: 'Under the shadow of thy wings protect me' (Ps. 16:9). Or as the bride in the Song of Songs, awaiting the coming of the bridegroom, foretells it, saying: 'Under his shadow, whom I had desired, I sat down' (Cant. 2:3). As if she were to say: From the heat of carnal desires I found rest under the protection of his coming. Again, by 'shade,' as charity withdraws, is expressed the torpor of a cold mind, as it is written of the man who sinned, that 'he followed the shadow' (cf. Gen. 3). For fleeing the warmth of charity, man forsook the sun of truth, and hid himself under the shadow of his inward chill.

Hence too by the voice of that same Truth it is said: 'Iniquity shall abound, and the charity of many shall grow cold' (Matt. 24:12). Hence the first man, after his fault, is found hidden among the trees of paradise at the breeze after midday (Gen. 3:8). For because he had lost the noonday heat of charity, he now grew torpid under the shadow of sin as though under the chill of a breeze. Satan easily takes his rest, as it were beneath a shade, in those whom he makes cold; in them he lies secure. This Behemoth, then, because he finds a kind of repose in those whom, by drawing them away from the heat of the true Sun, he renders cold, is said to sleep beneath the shade.

Sometimes, however, by 'shadow'—if indeed it is placed together with the addition of 'death'—is expressed either the death of the flesh, or any of the reprobate who imitate the darkness of the ancient enemy by their zeal for depraved conduct. Hence by the voice of the martyrs it is said through the Psalmist: 'Thou hast humbled us in the place of affliction, and the shadow of death hath covered us' (Ps. 43:20). For the shadow of death covers the elect of God when the death of the flesh, which is the image of eternal death, separates them from this life; for as that death separates the soul from God, so this separates the body from the soul. Or certainly the shadow of death covers them, because of the ancient enemy it is written: 'His name is Death' (Rev. 6:8). The shadow of death, then, are all the reprobate, because they imitate the wickedness of his pride;

and they express his image as it were a shadow, while they draw upon themselves the likeness of his malice. These cover the elect of God, when for a time they prevail against them in the cruelty of persecution. In this passage, however, by 'shadow' is understood the torpor of wickedness, in which this Behemoth sleeps; for against hearts glowing with charity he watches anxiously, but in cold minds he lies secure. For he cannot sleep in the minds of the saints, since even if for a brief moment he settles himself in them, the very heat of heavenly desires wearies him, and he is stung, as it were, to withdraw as often as they sigh from their inmost love toward eternal things. So many voices rouse him as there are holy thoughts crying up to heaven from their minds.

Whence it comes about that, terrified by the arms of good actions and pierced by the darts of holy sighs, he flees, and returning to the cold hearts of the reprobate, he seeks the shadow of malice which he may possess in security. And where this is found by him is shown, when it is at once added: 'In the secret of the reed.' The reed and the cane have various significations in Holy Scripture. In sacred discourse, by the name of 'reed' or 'cane' is sometimes understood the abiding Word, sometimes the skill of teachers, sometimes the fickleness of the mind, sometimes the splendour of temporal glory. By the reed, indeed, is designated the eternity of the Word, when by the voice of the Father it is said through the Psalmist: 'My tongue is the pen of a writer that writeth swiftly' (Ps. 44:2).

For because what we speak passes away, but what we write remains, the tongue of the Father is called the pen of the writer, because from Him is the Word, coeternal with Him, and begotten without passing away. Again, by 'reed' is expressed the teaching of writers, as the prophet promises concerning the holy Church, saying: 'In the dens where dragons dwelt before shall rise up the greenness of the reed and the rush' (Isa. 35:7). By which sentence, indeed—as we said far above in this work (see Bk. XXIX, n. 51)—by the reed is expressed the doctrine of those who write, by the rush the greenness of the hearers. Again, by 'reed,' or certainly 'cane,' is designated the fickleness of the mind, as is said by the Lord to the crowds of the Jews in praise of John: 'What went ye out into the desert to see?

A reed shaken by the wind?' (Matt. 11:7)—so that it may be understood: no. For John was not a reed shaken by the wind, since no blast of tongues could bend his mind, made firm by the Holy Spirit, in diverse directions. Again, by 'reed' or 'cane' is expressed the splendour of temporal glory, as is said of the just through Wisdom: 'The just shall shine, and shall run to and fro like sparks among the reeds' (Wisd. 3:7). For it calls the life of worldly men a reed-bed, who, after the manner of reeds, advance outwardly as though to lofty heights through temporal glory, but within are made empty of the solidity of truth. Hence also the kingdom of the Jews is compared to a reed, when it is said through the prophet, at the appearing of the Lord in the truth of the flesh:

'The bruised reed he shall not break, and the smoking flax he shall not quench' (Isa. 42:3). For what does he denote by the name of 'reed,' but the temporal kingdom of the Jewish people, outwardly indeed rising up, but inwardly empty? And because in that same people the royal line had now failed, and a foreigner possessed their kingdom, fittingly he calls this same kingdom a 'bruised reed.' And what is expressed by the 'flax,' but their priesthood, which wore vestments woven of linen? Which, because at the coming of the Lord it lost the ardour of charity, was, as though the fire of faith were already lost, not burning but smoking.

But the incarnate Lord did not break the bruised reed, nor quench the smoking flax, because the kingdom of Judaea, which was already almost destroyed, and its priesthood, which held not the fire of faith, He did not strike with the power of judgment, but tolerated with the long-suffering of patience. The minds of worldly men given over to temporal glory are like the reed. In this place, therefore, what else is designated by the name of 'reed' but the minds of worldly men given over to temporal glory? Who become the more empty within themselves, the more lofty and gleaming they are shown outwardly; because while they flow away toward outward glory through mere surface, they are consolidated by no inner firmness.

For after the manner of a reed they are indeed empty within through vanity, but outwardly beautiful in appearance and ostentation; yet the more eagerly outward glory is sought by them, the more their hearts are agitated by heavier goads of thoughts. Whence rightly now this Behemoth is said to sleep in the secret of the reed, because he silently holds the hearts of those whose zeal he stirs toward the craving for temporal splendour and loftiness; and, as it were, he himself sleeps there quietly, where he permits not those whom he possesses to be at rest.

For while they aspire to surpass others in the loftiness of goods, while after the manner of a reed, through the splendour of outward polish, they overcome the appearance of the just as though the bark of solid trees, in this very thing—that they themselves remain empty within—they afford to this Behemoth a place where he may repose within them. Whence also in the Gospel the Lord says that the unclean spirit which finds no rest in dry and waterless places, because it finds the house it had left empty and swept with brooms, enters it in greater number (Matt. 12:43ff). For because ground that is watered becomes soft, the dry and waterless places are the hearts of the just, which through the strength of discipline are dried of all moisture of carnal concupiscence.

Whence here also it is shown where this Behemoth may sleep, when it is at once subjoined: 'In moist places.' Carnal men are like moist places. The devil lords it over men through pride or through lust. For the moist places are the minds of earthly men, which the moisture of carnal concupiscence, because it fills them, makes fluid. In which this Behemoth impresses the traces of his iniquity the more deeply, the more his passage descends in those same minds as it were into soft ground. For moist places are voluptuous works. For the foot slips not on dry ground, but once set on slippery ground it is scarcely held.

In moist places, then, do those make the journey of the present life who cannot in it stand upright toward righteousness. In these same moist places, therefore, Behemoth sleeps, because he takes his rest in the slippery conduct of reprobate men. Some, however, suppose the moist places to be the genital members. And if this be so, what else is openly designated by moist places but lust—so that by the reed is expressed the glory of pride, and by moist places the lust of the body? For these are the two vices which savagely lord it over the human race, the one namely of the spirit, and the other of the flesh. For pride exalts the spirit, lust corrupts the flesh.

The ancient enemy, therefore, oppressing the human race chiefly either through pride or through lust, sleeps in the secret of the reed and in moist places, because he holds condemned man under the dominion of his lordship either through pride of spirit or through corruption of the flesh. Some indeed he possesses in both, because when the spirit of pride lifts them up, no shame of corruption bends them down from the swelling of their loftiness. But do not the masters of the virtues within holy Church watch unceasingly, day by day, against these? Do they cease to rebuke the lowest pleasures, and to urge the joys of the heavenly homeland? Yet the minds of the depraved so much the more obstinately hear not the highest things, the more closely they have clung to the lowest.

For whom it is not enough that they themselves perish, but still, what is worse, when they see any being reproved and amended, they oppose the rebukes of the just, lest at least others should be corrected. Whence too it is well subjoined: