The face that Dionysos presents to us under the name of Meilikhios is one of joy and gentleness, one of languid pleasure and soothing comfort. He is the god of release of healing from anxieties, emotional distress, and dysmania or unhealthy madness. Athenaeus tells us (3.78c) that on Naxos the people worshipped the god through two masks, reflecting his dual and contradictory nature. The first mask was made out of grape vines and represented Dionysos as Bakkhios, the Raving, a dark, destructive god of madness, of intense, uncontrollable passions, of tension held to the point of breaking. The other mask, made of fig-wood, represented Meilikhios, the Gentle, who was the kind and soothing deliverer from madness, the quiet after the storm, the warm, glowing, post-orgasmic bliss, the tender affection that people feel upon coming together at communal meals.

A key to understanding the nature of the god under this name lies in the wood from which his cult mask was crafted. Figs have always been a staple food in the Mediterranean diet. They are sweet and go well with other foods and in their red, juicy pulp the Greek saw certain obvious parallels to the sexual organs, which provide not just pleasure but the continuance of our species. For this reason the sacred phalloi carried in Dionysos' processions were made out of this wood.

Clement of Alexandria reports (Protr. 30) an Argive story about how the first phallos came to be. They said that even though Dionysos had accomplished many wonderful things in the world, his heart was still saddened by the fact that the soul of his mother languished in the gloomy depths of Haides. So he traveled to Lerna where there was a bottomless lake that was said to lead to the Underworld. But before Dionysos could proceed he was stopped by the Guardian of the Lake who barred his path. Prosymnos, the sentry, had been placed there by Haides himself and threatened with dire punishments should he ever let anyone pass. But upon seeing Dionysos Prosymnos' heart warmed with the memory of what it had been like to be alive and he longed to feel the pleasures of the flesh one last time. Overcome with love for Dionysos he agreed to guide him through the Abyss, even knowing it would cost him dearly, whereupon Dionysos confronted the Lord of the Dead and won the soul of his mother. Dionysos did not forget the pledge he had made to the sentry, and so he returned to the shores of Lerna to lay with him - but Haides had already enacted his terrible vengeance and turned Prosymnos into a fig tree. Dionysos cut off a branch and whittled out an exact replica of his member and adopted the passive role in the sex act that he might grant Prosymnos his final wish and give him the pleasure of his body. Afterwards, phalloi were used in Dionysos' worship and a lamb was submerged into the depths of the lake to commemorate the kindness Prosymnos had shown to Dionysos.

Even in such an odd little story, which Clement presents in the most mocking of tones, we can see how Dionysos longs for us to be happy and joyful, how his presence banishes sorrow and transforms suffering into something beautiful and eternal.

When you hear the name of Dionysos Meilikhios, he who is most gentle, most kind, and most beautiful of all the blessed immortals, let your mind fall to your own life and how the god has touched you, those times when you felt serene and content, when you felt confident and successful, when you felt loved and in love, when you had good food to eat and fine friends to share it with, when you were saturated with the simple joy of existence. Remember these things and give thanks to the god who bestows all of these blessings upon us, these and others beyond counting. And think also about the subtle paradoxical message which lies at the heart of the story of Prosymnos and in the two masks at Naxos - namely that we have Meilikhios only through Bakchios, that joy is the transformation and purification of suffering.

We Dionysians, perhaps more than other people because of our closeness to it, are keenly aware that life does not contain only unmixed joy, but that it can be filled with great suffering and immeasurable pains. Often it can be difficult to perceive the joy and bliss of life through our depression, anxiety, pain and the obstacles that get thrown in our path. Sometimes these things can be so overwhelming that it is difficult to remember a time when we felt otherwise. But we don't have to face these things alone. Dionysos is always there for us - and he is greater than all of our suffering. He who was torn apart by the Titans, he who was driven mad by Hera, he who was rejected in his own home by Pentheus and mocked by the daughters of Minyas - he who as the grapevine is pruned until it seems dead, who as the grape is cut and pressed and stomped upon - none suffers such as he, and yet through it all he continues, persists, and thrives. And what's more, his greatest triumph and gift to man, wine, comes only through that suffering he so directly experiences. There is something of Dionysos within each of us, and like him we shall find glory through the transformation of our suffering. No matter what you are facing, Dionysos can help you get through it, help you weave that suffering into something beautiful and eternal, reshape its nature from sadness into joy, from meaninglessness into value, from hardship into triumph. For this is Dionysos' true gift to man, symbolized by the wine and the phallos made of fig-wood, by the two masks named Bakkhios and Meilikhios, Dionysos dismembered and then remembered through our lives.