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Chapter 49

The Son of God spoke to the bride, saying: ”I am like a carpenter who, cutting wood from the forest, carries it off into his house and of it fashions a beautiful image and adorns it with colors and lineaments. And his friends, seeing the image and that it could be adorned with colors still more beautiful, themselves applied their colors too, painting upon it. Thus I, God, have cut from the forest of my Godhead my words that I have put into your heart. My friends, in fact, have redacted them into books, in accord with the grace given to them, and have colored and adorned them.

Now, therefore, that they may be serviceable to more tongues, give over all the books of the revelations of these same words of mine to my bishop, the hermit, who is to write them together and to elucidate the obscure things and to hold to the Catholic sense of my Spirit.
Because my Spirit sometimes leaves my elect to themselves in order that they, in the manner of a pair of scales, may judge and examine my words in their heart, and, after much thought, may expound them more clearly and elicit the better things.
For just as your heart is not always capable and warm for uttering and writing those things that you sense, but now you turn and turn them again in your soul, now you write and rewrite them, until you come to the proper sense of my words, thus with the Evangelists and Doctors my Spirit ascended and descended because now they put some things that had to be emended, now some things that had to be retracted, now they were judged and reprehended by others.
And nevertheless others afterward came, who more subtly examined and more lucidly explained their words. But nevertheless it was from my Spirit, through infusion, that all my Evangelists had the words that they spoke and wrote. Likewise say to the same hermit that he is to do and to fill the office of an evangelist.”

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