Chapter 2 storm set (2)

When Jesus said this, I really wanted to kneel down and worship Him, but I was too shy to move or say a word. But finally I spoke up and said, "I want to pray now, but I can't speak, please teach us how to pray." Jesus replied: "As you pray, let your thoughts speak. Now in my thoughts, pray as follows: Our Father between heaven and earth, holy is your name, Let your will be with us as it is in heaven. Provide enough bread for our day; Forgive us with your love, enlighten us for each other; Lead us to you, reach out to us in the dark; Because the kingdom of heaven is yours, only in you can we have our strength and satisfaction. "

It was evening now, and we all followed Jesus down the hill.Walking behind Jesus, I repeated his verses and recalled all his instructions.I know that the words that fall like snowflakes today will condense and become solid as crystal; the wings that flap over our heads will shake the earth like railways. john son of zedetais You have noticed that some of us call Jesus "Christ", some call him "Word", others call him "Nazaret", and still others call him "Son of Man". Let me explain the meaning of these names according to my own understanding. "Gypsum", which has existed since ancient times, is the flame of God burning in the human spirit, the breath of life that visits us, and he appears in the same body as us.

He is the will of the Lord. He is the original Word, speaking with our voices and living in our ears so that we can heed and understand its truth. The "Word" of the Lord, our God, builds a body of flesh and blood to become like you and me. For we cannot hear the shapeless windsong, nor see our larger selves walking in the mist. "Christ" has come to this world many times, he has been to many regions, and he is often regarded as a weirdo and a madman. Yet his voice never descends in the void, for man retains in memory what his mind does not heed. This is "Christ", the most profound and the most sublime, who advances with mankind toward eternity.

Have you not heard of him, at the crossroads of India, in the land of the magi, in the deserts of Egypt? Here, in your northern lands, your troubadours have sung of Prometheus the fire-stealer, man's dream fulfilled, his captive hope set free; Phus, who, with his voice and lyre, gave life to the souls of man and beast. Do you know King Mithras?Know the Persian prophet Zoroaster?It is they who have awakened from the ancient sleep of mankind, and stand beside our sleeping beds. We ourselves, when we meet once in a millennium in the invisible temple, become anointed; then one emerges in the flesh, and our silence becomes song with his coming.

Yet our ears are not always listening, nor are our eyes always watching. Jesus of Nazareth was born and raised like us; his parents were like our parents.He is human. And "Christ", the primordial "Word", the "Spirit" who wishes us to live a fuller life, came to Jesus and was with him. The "spirit" is the finger of the holy mistress, and Jesus is the harp that "he" plays. The "spirit" is the hymn, and Jesus is the tune to which the hymn is sung. Jesus of Nazareth, host and mouthpiece of "Christ," walks with us in the sun and calls us friends.

In those days his voice was heard everywhere in the hills and valleys of Galilee.I was young, and I walked in his ways and followed in his footsteps. I followed in his footsteps and walked in his way, just to hear the word of "Christ" from the mouth of Jesus of Galilee. Now you wonder why some of us call him "Son of Man". He himself would like to be called that, because he knows people's hunger and thirst, and has seen people seek The "Son of Man" is the merciful "Christ" who is willing to be with us all. He is Jesus of Nazareth, and he will lead all his brothers to the "anointed one", to the "Word" that has been with God from the beginning.

In my heart dwells Jesus of Galilee, the man above all, the poet who made us all poets, the "spirit" who knocks at our doors; who wakes us.Rise up and go out to meet a young priest of the naked and unrestrained Mashabainong He was a pure juggler, a sorcerer who bewitched the vulgar with magic and spells.He distorted the words of our Prophets and touched upon our Holy Forefathers. bark!He also went so far as to let the deceased act as his witness, and let the silent grave work as his precursor and evidence. He tricked the women of the suburbs of Jerusalem into his snare with the trick of a spider for a fly.

Women are weak and empty-headed, and they follow him because he soothes their unrequited passions with sweet words.If it were not for these vacillating and obsessed women, his name would have been lost from people's memory. Who were the men who followed him?They are a group of enslaved and trampled down.From ignorance and fear they would not have disobeyed their rightful master; yet when he had placed them high in his imaginary kingdom, they were at his mercy like clay in the hands of the potter. Don't you know: In dreams, slaves often become masters, and weaklings become lions? This Galilean is a sorcerer and a liar, who pardons the crimes of all sinners, to hear their foul mouths hail him Hail and Hosanna; To make them obey his words and orders.

He joined others in violating the taboos of the Sabbath in order to win the support of the outlaws; he slandered our high priest in order to make a sensation in the Sanhedrin and gain fame by rebellion. I have said over and over that I hate this man.Yeah, I hate him more than the Romans who really rule our country.Even Nazareth, his native land, was once cursed by our Prophet as a dunghill gathered by heretics, and nothing good will come out of it. A rich Levite near Bengal He is a good carpenter.He made doors that could never be opened by thieves; he made windows that could be opened at any time to let in the east or west wind.

The chests he made of cedar wood were bright and durable; the rakes he made were strong and easy to use. He used golden mulberry wood to carve the pulpit for the church.At either end of the table on which the holy books were placed, he carved outspread wings; below the dais, he carved the heads of bulls and doves, and a deer with wide eyes. He carves in the style of the Syldeans and the Greeks, yet there is something in his craft that is not of the Taldeans and the Greeks. My current house was built thirty years ago by many people.I selected bricklayers and carpenters from all parts of Galilee, each of whom had a good trade, and I was satisfied with all their work.

But look, those two doors and this window were made by Jesus of Nazareth, and they're so strong they dwarf the rest of my house. Do you see that these two doors are different from the others?Is this window that opens to the east different from other windows? All the other windows and doors in my house are in disrepair, but those he made are the only ones that have weathered the weather and are still as strong as ever. Look at the studs, how well they are fitted; and look at the nails, driven in from one end of the board, and nailed so densely on the other. And what is remarkable is that this craftsman, who deserved double wages, received only one wage; it was this craftsman again who is now regarded as a prophet in Israel. If I had known that this young man with the saw and plane was a prophet, I would have asked him to give me lectures instead of work, and I would have paid generously for his lectures. Today, I still employ many people to work in my home and fields.How can I tell who is the craftsman with the tools and who is drawn by the hand of God? Yeah, how can I recognize the hand of God? A Shepherd in Southern Lebanon The first time I saw him was late summer, walking with three other people on a distant road.It was getting late, he stopped and stood on the road at the end of the grassland. I'm playing the flute and my sheep are grazing around.Seeing him stop, I got up and walked over to him. He asked me, "Where is Elijah's tomb? Isn't it around here?" I replied, "There, sir, just under the pile of stones. Even now, every passer-by adds a stone to the pile." He thanked me and left, followed by his friends. Three days later Mary the shepherd told me that the passer-by was a prophet of Judea.I didn't believe it, but I thought about him for months. When spring came, Jesus walked through the grassland again, this time alone. I'm not in the mood to play the flute that day because I've lost a sheep.I was depressed and sullen. I went up to him, and stood silently before him, wanting to be comforted by him. He looked at me and said, "You don't play the flute today, why do you look sad?" I replied, "My flock is missing a sheep. I searched everywhere but couldn't find it. I don't know what to do." He was silent for a while, then smiled and said to me, "Wait here a little while, I will go and get your sheep back." Then he walked away and disappeared into the mountains. An hour later he came back, my sheep followed closely beside him.When he stopped in front of me, the sheep looked at his face with the same look I had looked at him.I hugged the sheep happily. He put his hand on my shoulder and said, "From now on, you will love this sheep very much, because it is lost and found." I happily hugged the sheep again, the sheep) L snuggled up to me, and I didn't speak. When I looked up and thanked Jesus, he had gone far away, but I didn't have the courage to follow him. John the Baptist: To a Disciple As long as the voice of Jesus is still singing on the battlefield, I will not be silent in this filthy cave; as long as he enjoys freedom, I will not be controlled and strangled. People tell me: snakes are coiling around his waist.But I replied: "The poisonous snake will only arouse his strength, and he will crush him with his feet." I was just the thunder before his lightning; although I spoke first, what he said was the truth and purpose. The enemy captured me without warning.Perhaps, they will harm him too.And before that, he will spread his word, and he will conquer them. His chariot will run over them, the hooves of his horse will trample them, and he will be the victor. They will march forth with sword and spear, and he will fight with the strength of spirit. His blood will soak the earth; but they will be humiliated and afflicted.They will be baptized in their own tears until their sins are washed away. Their great armies will attack his city-state with iron hazels, but they will be drowned in the Jordan River on the way. His walls and towers will rise higher, and the shields of his warriors will shine brighter in the sun. They say that I am his ally, that our purpose is to incite the people to rise up against the Jewish kingdom. I answer, wish I could speak with fire.If they call this evil sound a kingdom, let it crumble and burn to smoke!Let it repeat the mistakes of Sodomy and Gomorrah, let this nation be forgotten by God, and let this land be reduced to ashes! off. chew!Beyond the walls of this prison, I am indeed an ally of Jesus of Nazareth, who will command all my chariots and horses.And myself, although I am also a general, I am not even worthy to untie his shoelaces. Go to him, repeat my words, and ask his comfort and blessing in my name! I will not be here long.At night, every time I wake up from a dream, I hear neat footsteps stepping slowly over me; when I listen carefully, I hear raindrops beating on my grave. Go to Jesus and tell him: The spirit of John the Caedron who was haunted is free from the ghost, and he is praying for you, while the gravedigger stands by and the executioner holds out his hand for his reward. Joseph of Arimathea You want to know what was the first object of Jesus, and I would love to tell you; but no one can put his finger on the life of the blessed vine, or see the sap that nourishes the branches. Though I have eaten the grapes, and tasted the new wine from the winery, I cannot tell you all. I can only tell what I know of him. Our Lord, the Beloved, lived only three prophetic seasons: his spring of song and music, his summer of rapture, and his autumn of passion.Each season is a thousand years. His spring of song and music was spent in Galilee.It was there that he gathered around his lovers; it was there by that blue lake that he spoke for the first time of the Father, of our emancipation and freedom. On the shores of the Sea of ​​Galilee we sacrificed ourselves and found the way to the Father.Oh, what a huge gain for such a small sacrifice! There, angels sing in our ears, telling us to leave the wasteland and go to the garden we want. He spoke of fields and green meadows, of Lebanon's airy hillsides, where white lilies bloomed and ignored the dusty caravans swaggering past the valleys. He spoke of the wild rose that smiles in the sun and gives its fragrance to the wind that blows. He also said: "Lilies and wild roses only live for one day, but this day is an eternal life spent in freedom." One evening, as we sat by the brook, he said, "Look at the brook, and listen to its deep joy. It will follow the sea forever, and yet it sings its mystery every noonday." "May you follow your Father as the brooks follow the sea." Then came his summer of ecstasy, and we bathed in the June of his love.At this time, he only talked about other people—neighbors, fellow travelers, strangers, our childhood playmates. He talked about the travelers from the east to Egypt, about the farmers who drove their cattle home at dusk, and about the uninvited guests who came to our door in the evening. He always said: "Your neighbor is the self you don't know when you see it. His victory will be reflected in your still water. If you gaze at the water, you will see your own face in it." "If you listen at night, you will hear your neighbor's words, and his words will be the beating of your own heart." "Treat him how you want him to treat you." "This is my law, and I will teach it to you, and to your children, and they will pass it on to their children, and so on from generation to generation, until the end of time." Another day he said: "You don't become yourself alone. You exist in the actions of others; others, though they don't mean to, are with you all the days." "For every crime they commit, your hand is with theirs." "They won't fall unless you fall with them; they won't get up unless you rise with them." "Their highway to the temple is also your highway; as they go to the ruins, you go with them." "You and your neighbor are two seeds sown in the ground, and together you will grow, and together you will shake in the wind, and neither of you will claim the land alone, for the growing seed does not take its own joy boast." "Today I am with you. Tomorrow I will go west, and before I go, I warn you: Your neighbor is the self you meet but do not know. Visit him with love, and you will know yourselves, For only in this understanding do you become my brothers." Then came the autumn of his passion. He talks to us about freedom, which he talked about in Galilee at the Spring of Music.But this time, he asks us to understand his words more deeply. He said that leaves sing only when they are blown by the wind, and that man is the cup filled by the day's rescue angel to quench the thirst of other angels, whether the cup is full or empty, it is Put the crystal clear on the feast of the "Most High". He said: "You are the cups, you are the wine, drink yourselves! Or remember me, and you will be satisfied in the remembrance." When we were on our way to the south, he said: "Although Jerusalem stands proudly on the top, it will surely sink into the depths of the black valley of Jehannam, and in its ruins, I will be alone. "The temples there will be reduced to dust, and around the porticoes of the temples you will hear the cry of widows and orphans, and men fleeing in haste will not even know the faces of their brothers, for all are terrified." "But even here, if two of you meet together, say my name, and look westward, you will see me, and these words of mine will come to your ears again." When we reached Mount Bethany, he said, "Let us go to Jerusalem, the city is waiting for us, and I will ride through the gates on a horse, and I will preach to the people." "Many want to bind me, many want to extinguish my flame, but from my death you will find eternal life and you will be free." "They will pursue my breath, which flies from heart to thought, as the swallow from field to nest; but my breath has escaped them, and they will never conquer me." "The walls my Father built around me will never fall, nor the ground he sanctified shall be defiled." Q "When the dawn comes, the rising sun will crown me, and I will face the day with you , that day will be eternal day, and there will be no more twilight in the world." "The literati and the Pharisees say that the earth thirsts for my blood, and I will drain the dryness of the earth with my blood. But my drops of blood will moisten the oak and maple, and the east wind will carry the seeds to him. Q And he said, "A king will arise in Judea, and the nation of Judah will go out against the great army of Rome. " "I will not be king of Judea. For Zion's crown is made for a smaller forehead, and Solomon's ring won't fit on my finger." "Look at my hand. Don't you see how powerful it is, that it doesn't bother to touch a staff, or swing an ordinary sword?" "No, I will not stir the souls of Syria against the Romans. But you will awaken the city with my words, and my spirit will speak to her second dawn." "My words shall be an invisible army with horses and chariots. Without battle axes and spears, I shall defeat the emperor of Jerusalem and priestly Rome." "I will not sit on the throne where slaves ruled slaves, nor will I fight against the sons of Italy." "But I will be the hurricane that blows through their skies, the song that sings in their souls." "I will be remembered." "They will call me Jesus the Anointed." These words were spoken by Jesus outside the city before entering Jerusalem. His words are engraved in people's hearts like a knife Nathanael They said that Jesus of Nazareth was humble and weak. They said that although he was just and just, he was a coward and was often bullied by strong men and warriors.He also said that when he stood in front of the powerful, he was just a lamb in front of a lion. But I want to say that Jesus has his own authority over everyone.He knew his might, and he had shown it in Galilee, in Judea and in the cities of Fat Nicki. What succumbed and weak man dares to say, "I am the life, I am the way to the truth?" What weak and lowly man can say, "I am in God our Father, and God our Father is in me?" Whoever does not know his own strength will say: "He who does not believe in me, also does not believe in this life and eternal life" Who who has no faith in tomorrow will declare, "Before my words are lost, your world will be destroyed like ashes?" If he doubts himself, when people embarrass him with whores, he will shout: "Whoever has no crime, just come up and throw stones?" Had he feared the authorities, would he have driven the money changers sanctioned by the priests out of the temple compound? Had his wings been cut, he would have cried out, "My kingdom above all the nations of your land?" Had he defended himself with words, he would have repeated over and over again: "Destroy this temple and I'll rebuild it in three days?" If he was a coward, would he wave his arms in front of the powerful and denounce them as "hypocritical, low, dirty and degenerate"? Could the man who had the courage to speak so bluntly to the rulers of Judea be considered weak and humble? No, vultures don't make their nests in weeping willows, and lions don't choose their dens in daisies. Whenever I hear cowards, justifying their own cowardice, claim Jesus is humble and weak; whenever I hear downtrodden wretches, in order to find a soul mate for comfort, say Jesus is the glowing light around them every time I hear this, I'm going to gag and my insides are going to churn. Alas, I am sick of such people!What I want to praise is the almighty hunter, and the invincible, majestic spirit. Sabah of Antioch On this day, I heard Saul of Tarsus preaching Christ to the Jews in the city. He now called himself Paul, the Apostle to the Gentiles.I have known him since I was young.At that time, he persecuted the friend of the Nazarene.I still vividly remember how elated he was when his accomplices stoned the young Stephen in his prime. This Paul is indeed a strange man, and his soul is not the soul of a free man. At times he seemed like game in the woods, wounded and hunted, looking for a cave to hide in, hiding his pain from the outside world. He doesn't talk about Jesus, he doesn't repeat what Jesus said, he talks about the Messiah that the ancient prophets foretold Though he himself was a learned Jew, he addressed his fellow Jews in Greek, which he stuttered and phrased in many ways. But he has a hidden power, which is quite popular with the audience around him.Sometimes, he could convince them of things he wasn't sure of himself. Those of us who knew Jesus and heard him speak believe that Jesus taught man how to break the chains that bind him, and thereby free himself from yesterday. But Paul makes chains for tomorrow's man, and in some name he does not understand, he strikes the anvil with his hammer. The Nazarene wants us to pass this time with passion and joy; the Tarsus wants us to remember the laws written in ancient books. Jesus breaths His breath to the breathless dead; I believe and understand this miracle in lonely nights. When he sat at the table, the stories he told brought joy to the diners, and his joy sweetened their meals. But Paul wants to prescribe our meals and cups. Now please let me look elsewhere! Salome's song to a girlfriend He is like a poplar shining in the sun, Like a lake among lonely mountains, Glistening in the sun; And like the snow on the top of the mountain, So bright and white in the sun. Sniff, he's like all this. I fell in love with him. But I'm afraid to see his face, My legs cannot bear the burden of my love, I can't wrap my arms around his legs and feet. I want to tell him: "I killed your friend on the spur of the moment, Will you forgive my sins? Will you be merciful, Free my youth from my folly, Let her use your light to go forward? " I know he will forgive my dancing, For this dance his friend lost his holy head; I know he'll see me as an audience, Hear his teachings and sermons; For there is no valley of hunger that he cannot cross, Nor was there a dry desert through which he could not walk.Smell, he is like a tall and straight poplar tree.Like the lakes in the mountains, like the snows of Lebanon, I would like to cool my hot lips with his clothes.But he was far away from me, and I was already ashamed.Whenever I wanted to go to find him, my mother would drag me back.Every time he passed by, I longed for his heroic appearance, but my mother would frown contemptuously, and hurriedly pulled me back from the window and let me go back to her boudoir.And she would cry out, "Isn't he just another locust from the desert?" Laurel crown? Wasn't it he who instigated the foxes and jackals of the cursed land to howl in our palace and snatch our throne? From now on, hide your face until one day his head falls, but it doesn't fall on you on the plate." My mother said these words, but I didn't remember a single word of hers in my mind.I secretly fell in love with him, Fire burns in my sleep. Now he is gone, Something in me has also gone, Maybe it was my youth, I don't want to stay here any longer, For the spirit of youth has been slain. Rachel, an apostle I often wonder: Is Jesus a person with a flesh and blood like us, or is it an invisible thought in the brain, or a concept of a vision that visits people? I have often felt that he was a dream dreamed simultaneously by countless men and women, in a deep sleep deeper than sleep, at a dawn quieter than all dawns. I think: when we tell each other about our dreams, we start to take it as a real reality; s material. In fact, however, he is not a dream.We've known him for three years, we've seen him when we opened our eyes at high noon. We have touched his hands and followed him from place to place.We have heard his speeches and seen his deeds.Would you think that we are just a thought in search of a higher thought, or a dream in the realm of dreams? Great deeds always seem short-lived in our daily life, although their essence may be rooted in our nature; they come and go quickly, but they will be passed on from generation to generation. Jesus of Nazareth himself was a great miracle.This man whose parents and brothers we know was himself a miracle that was wrought in Judea.Yea, all the wonders of his own wrought would not reach even the height of his ankles if placed at his feet. All the rivers flowing through the ages cannot take away our memory of him. He is the mountain that burns in the night, and the soft gleam of distant mountains; he is a hurricane in the air, and a whisper in the mist at dawn. He is the turbulent current rushing down the plain from the top of the mountain, washing away everything that stands in its way; and he is as gentle as the laughter of a child. Every year I am waiting for spring to come to this valley, waiting for the lilies and cyclamen to bloom, but every year I am full of melancholy; I have been looking forward to having fun with spring, but I can't get it. And when Jesus came to me, He brought the true spring, the promise of all the years to come.He filled me already with joy, and like a violet, I grew shyly under his light. Now, the temporal changes of the world that is not ours will never erase his beauty from our world. No, Jesus is not an apparition, not an imagination of the poet.He is like you and me, but only in sight, touch, hearing, and in every other respect he is different from us. He is a happy man.On the path of joy he has met the sorrows of all, and from the height of his sorrow he has looked down on the joys of all. He sees sights we do not see, hears voices we do not hear; he seems to speak to unseen multitudes, and often through us, to the unborn. Jesus was often alone.He is among us, but not one with us.He is on the earth, but he belongs to the sky.Only in solitude can we visit his solitary country. He loves us tenderly.His heart is a wine press, you and I can approach and drink from a cup. One thing about Jesus never ceases to baffle me: His willingness to play with his audience, his willingness to crack jokes and quips; even when there was foresight in his eyes and sorrow in his voice, he laughed heartily.But now I understand. I always think of the earth as a woman with her first child.When Jesus was born, he was the newborn baby; when he died, he was the first to die. Didn't you notice that on that dark Friday the earth was still and the heavens were at war? Don't you realize that when his butt disappears from our sight, we seem to be only memories in the mist? Cleopa of Bertron When Jesus spoke, the whole world listened in silence.His words are not addressed to our ears, but to the elements with which God created the earth. He talks to the sea, the sea is the great mother who gave birth to us; he talks to the mountain, the mountain is our elder brother, and the mountain top is a promise made. He spoke to the angels above the sea and the mountains, to whom we dreamed long before the clay on us dried in the sun. His words are like a half-forgotten love song, still dormant in our breasts, but sometimes they burn themselves, shining in our memory. His words were plain and cheerful, and his voice was like a spring flowing from a dry place. Once he raised his hand to the sky, his fingers like banyan branches, and he said in a loud voice: "The prophets of old have spoken to you, and your ears are filled with their words. But I warn you: take everything from your ears." "However, I warn you" these words were proclaimed not from the mouths of us earthly humans, but from the army of seraphs marching over Judea. Several times he would go through the law and the words of the prophets three times, and then he would say, "But I admonish you." Oh, what a fiery word it is, what a raging sea unknowable by the shores of our thoughts! — "However, I warn you." What unsearchable stars search the darkness of the soul, what watchful sleepless souls wait for the dawn! Whoever talks about the speeches of Jesus needs to know the truth in his speeches or their echoes. And I did not see the truth in his speech or its echoes. Forgive me for a story I cannot close.That ending is not yet on my lips, but still a love song on the wind. Naim of Glasham, friend of Stephen His apostles were scattered.Before he died, he left a painful legacy for the apostles.They were hunted like stag and fox in the field, and the hunter's quiver was full of arrows. And when they were captured and killed, they rejoiced, and their faces glowed like the bridegroom's at a wedding feast, for Jesus also left them a legacy of joy. I have a friend from the Northland named Stephen.He was taken into the street and stoned for declaring that Jesus was the Son of God. Stephen fell with outstretched arms, as if to die like his Lord.His outstretched arms are like wings ready to fly.When the last gleam in his eyes faded, I saw a smile on his lips.This smile is like the breath blown by the end of winter, bringing the promise and promise of spring. Stephen seemed to be saying, "If I were to go to another world where people would take me to another street and stone me, I would still preach his word for what he had. For the sake of the truth already possessed." I also noticed a man standing nearby, watching with delight the stoning of Stephen. He was Saul of Tarsus, and it was he who handed Stephen over to the priests and Romans to be stoned. Saul was bald, of short stature, with slumped shoulders, and his features were incongruously matched.I don't like this person. It's unbelievable to hear that he's preaching about Jesus from the rooftops these days. But the tomb could not stop Jesus from walking through the enemy camp, subduing and capturing his opponents. I still don't like the man of Tarsus, although people say that after Stephen's death Saul was subdued and converted on the way to Damascus.But he has too much brainpower but not enough sincerity to be a true believer. However, I may be wrong in my judgment.I am often wrong. Thomas My grandfather who was a lawyer once said, "Let our eyes see the truth, but only when the truth is revealed." When Jesus calls me, I listen to him because his powerful commands shape my will.But I still reserve my opinion. I listened impassively while he talked and the rest of the audience swayed like branches in the wind.But I love him. Three years ago, he left us.We the scattered people still sing his name and stand as his witnesses in every country. Back then I was called "Thomas the Doubter," and my grandfather's shadow still hung over me, and I always wanted to tell the truth. I even had to put my hand over my wound and feel the blood flow before I believed my pain. The man who loves in his heart but doubts in his mind is like the hired slave on a sailing ship: he sleeps at the oars, and dreams of his freedom, until the master's whip wakes him. I was such a slave myself, I dreamed of freedom, but my grandfather's drowsiness remained with me.My flesh needs the whipping of my own day. Even with the Nazarenes present, I have closed my eyes and imagined my hands tied to the oars. Doubt is a pain too lonely to know that faith is its twin brother. Doubt is a wretched lost outcast who, though always found and embraced by his mother, still fears and recoils. Doubt will only know the truth when the wound is healed and healed. I doubted Jesus until he revealed himself to me and let me put my hand in his wound.After that I really believed it.At last I am free from my yesterday, from the yesterday of my ancestors. Thomas, one of the twelve apostles of Jesus, did not believe in the resurrection of Jesus, but after Jesus let him touch himself, he began to believe. The dead in me buried itself, and the living shall live for the anointed King, for the Son of Man. Yesterday it was said that I should go far and tell the Persians and Hindus his name. I will travel far.From this day until my end, in all the dawns and dusks, I will see my Lord standing majestic, and I will hear His words. logician el madan You want me to talk about Jesus of Nazareth, and I've got a lot to talk about, just not yet.But what I say now is all true, because all words are worthless unless they reveal the truth of the facts. He was an outlaw, rebelling against all order; a beggar, against all property; a drunkard, happy only among the scoundrels and wretches. He was not the proud son of the Jewish state, nor was he a protected citizen of the Roman Empire, so he despised both the Jewish state and the Roman Empire. He would live as free and cynical as a bird in the air; so the hunters shot him down with arrows. No one can knock down the tower of yesterday without being crushed by the falling stones. No one can open the ancestral floodgates without being submerged.This is the law.Because the Nazarene broke the law, he and his mindless followers perish. There are many others, like him, who want to change our destiny.As a result, they themselves have been changed, and they are losers. Beside the wall grew a barren vine, which climbed up the stone wall.If the vine said in its heart, "By my strength and weight I will tear down these walls," how would the other plants feel?Surely they would laugh at its folly. Sir, I can only sneer at this fellow and his deluded apprentices. a woman named maria His head was always held high, and the light of God shone in his eyes. He is often melancholy, but his melancholy is the love shown to the suffering and the comfort to the lonely. When he smiles, his smile is like the longing of those who seek the unknown, like stardust falling on the eyes of a child, or like a piece of bread in the throat. He is melancholy, but his melancholy rises to his lips and melts into a smile. His melancholy is like the golden slowness in the forest when autumn comes to the world, and sometimes like the moonlight shining on the lake. When he smiled, his lips seemed to sing at a wedding feast. But he is melancholy, and his melancholy is the melancholy of those who grow wings and do not wish to soar above their fellows. greek poet romanos He is a poet.He sees for our eyes and hears for our ears.Our silent words hung on his lips, and his fingers touched things we couldn't feel. Countless singing birds flew out of his heart, some flying south and some flying north.The small flowers blooming all over the foot of the mountain also made him stop and watch on the way to heaven. I have often seen him stooping to caress the blades of grass in the field, and I hear him whisper in my heart: "Little green creature, in my kingdom you will be as dear to me as the oaks of Besan and the cedars of Lebanon." I am with you." He loved all things beautiful, the timid faces of children, myrrh and frankincense from the South. He liked a pomegranate, or a glass of wine, kindly presented to him, whether by a stranger at an inn or by a wealthy host. He loves almond blossoms.I have seen him pick handfuls of almond blossoms and cover his face with the petals.He is willing to embrace all the flowers and trees in the world with love. He knows the mysteries of the sea and the sky.He speaks of pearls, but the pearl's luster is not earthly; he speaks of stars, but the stars shone beyond our night sky.