Chapter 4 storm set (4)

In Nazareth there was a poet, He knows us and loves us. Row your oars, my love, Let me pluck my strings. Hannah of Bethsaida: 73 My father's sister ran away from home when she was young and lived in a hut by the old vineyard her father had left behind. She lives alone.Country people come to seek treatment when they are sick.She cured them with green herbs, with dried roots and flowers. People regard her as a prophet, but others say that she is a witch and fairy. One day my father said to me, "Go and give my sister this bread, this jug of wine, and this basket of raisins."

I tied up my things, tied them to my horse, and started on my way till I came to the vineyard.I went into my aunt's hut, and she was very happy. It was cool and we sat.At this time, a person came along the road, and he greeted my aunt: "Good evening, I hope you have a safe night!" So the aunt stood up, respectfully stood in front of this person, and replied: "Good evening, master of all good spirits, hero who conquers all evil spirits!" The man looked at her pleasantly, and then walked away. I snickered inwardly, thinking that my aunt was a little crazy.But I now understand that she was not crazy, but I was ignorant at the time.

She knew that although I didn't show it, I was snickering at her in my heart. She said to me without anger: "Listen, niece, and take to heart my words: He who has just passed this place like a bird's shadow across the air, will conquer the empire of Saza and Tazza; The oxen of the Zeldeans, the lions of Egypt fight, and shall prevail; and he shall rule the world." "And the land on which he walks will be destroyed, and Jerusalem, which sits on the hill, will drift away with the cloud of desolation." Listening to her, I turned from snickering to silence.I asked, "Who is this man, and what country or tribe is he from? How did he manage to defeat the great emperors and rule over their empire?"

She replied: "He was born in this land, but we have conceived him in our thoughts since the beginning of ages. He belongs to all tribes and returns to no tribe. He will be Fire reigns." Then she stood up suddenly, standing like a steep rock, and said: "May the angel of the Lord have mercy on me and say these words: he shall be slain, his youth shall be shrouded in shrouds, he shall be silenced." Rest quietly beside the silent heart of the earth. The maidens of the Jews will weep for him." Then she raised her hand to the air and said, "But he was only physically killed."

"In spirit he shall arise, and with his hosts, march from this land where the sun was born, to the land where the setting sun is mine." "His name shall stand above all." My aunt was an old seer when she spoke these words, and I was a maiden, an uncultivated field, a stone unbuilt in a wall. But everything she saw in the mirror of her mind happened in my day. Jesus of Nazareth rises from the dead, and marches men and women at the head of fallen nations; the city where he was brought to judge is lost; in the hall where he was tried and condemned, owls wail dirges, and night Drops of dew fell on the collapsed marble.

I am an old woman, age has bent my back, my people and my race are dead. I later saw Jesus only once and heard him speak once.He was on top of a mountain, speaking to friends and disciples. Now I am old and lonely, but he still appears in my dreams. He came like a white angel with wings, and his gentleness calmed me from the fear of the dark; he lifted me up to farther dreams. I am still a plowed field, a ripe fruit that will not fall to the ground.My most cherished wealth is the warmth of the sun and my memory of this person. I know there will never again be kings, prophets, or priests among my people, as my aunt once foretold.

We will pass away like flowing water in obscurity. But those who crossed his midstream will be remembered for it. Manasseh, a lawyer in Jerusalem Yes, I used to listen to his speeches a lot.His words hung on his lips, ready to blurt out at any time. But I appreciate him as a person, not as a leader.The truth he preaches is neither of my interest, nor perhaps I can comprehend it.I don't want others to admonish me. I was moved by his voice and gestures, not by the content of his speech.He fascinated me, but never convinced me, because his reasoning was too obscure, too remote and impenetrable to enter my brain.

I've known other speakers like him, but they've never been stoic, persistent people.By eloquence, not by reason, they captivate your ears and influence your flashes, but never enter your heart. It is a pity that his enemies turned against him and resorted to force, which was unnecessary.I believe their hostility only strengthened his resolve, turning him from mild to violent. You say it's strange: when you oppose others, you give him courage, and when you bind his legs, you give him wings! I don't know his enemies well.But I am sure that their fear of a harmless man so much increased his power and made him dangerous.

Jephthah of Caesarea I hate the man you remember by day and remember by night.But you are always willing to trouble my ears with his words and tire my mind with his deeds. I'm sick of everything he says and does.Just mentioning his name, his place of origin, is enough to make me unhappy.I don't want to hear everything about him. Why do you call a man who is but a phantom a prophet?Why do you think of this sand dune as a tower, and the raindrops accumulated in this hoofprint as a lake? I do not mock the echoes of hollows in valleys, or the long shadows of sunset; but I would not hear the lies that whisper in your minds, nor discuss the reflections in your eyes.

Which sentence did Jesus say that Haliyael never said?Which philosophy did he reveal that Dimali did not reveal?How can his eating words compare to Fei Yu's loud voice?Which one of the skills he tapped was not tapped before he was born? I listen to the voice of the cave echoing in the quiet valley, and I see the long shadow of the setting sun; but I would not let this man's heart resonate with another's, nor would this magician's phantom call itself a prophet. Who will give a speech after Isaiah?Who will sing after David?After Solomon went to meet his predecessors, would wisdom still regenerate?

What shall I say about our Prophets—whose words are swords, whose lips are fire? Why did they leave a stalk for the Galilean earbearer, and a falling fruit for the beggar in the northern kingdom?The only thing he can do is to break away the bread our ancestors have baked, and pour out the wine pressed by their holy feet from the grapes of old. I respect the hand of the potter, not the buyer of pottery. I respect the weaver who sits at the loom, not the peasant who wears the clothes. Who is this Jesus of Nazareth?Just an ordinary person who dare not practice his own ideas.Therefore, he ended up in ruins. I beg you, don't keep talking about his words and deeds in my ears.My heart is filled with the deeds of the ancient prophets, and these are enough. beloved apostle john in old age You make me talk about Jesus, but how can I blow from an empty reed the song of the world's longing? Every moment of the day, Jesus felt the presence of the Father.He saw his father in the clouds and the shadows of the clouds passing over the earth. He saw his face in the calm water, and his faint footprints in the desert.He often raises his upper eyelids, gazing upon the Holy Kingdom of the Father. Talked to him at night with the voice of the Father, and in solitude he heard the messenger of the Lord calling to him, and when he slept quietly, he heard the whispers of heaven in his dreams. He is always happy to be with us and he calls us brother. See, He who is the "Original Word" calls us Brothers, the New Voices that spoke yesterday. You ask me why I say He is the "Original Word". Please listen to my answer: In the beginning, God moved through space, and through his random movements the earth was born, and the seasons changed on it. Later, God moved again, and life rushed out, and the desire of life searched up and down, wanting to be carried forward. Later God spoke, and his words were human beings, and human beings are souls born of the Spirit of God. When God speaks, His first word—"Word", is Christ, and this "Word" is perfect.This "first word" was spoken to us when Jesus of Nazareth came to earth, and his voice became flesh. The anointed Jesus is the "first word" revealed by God to mankind, just as there is always an apple tree in the orchard, which germinates and bears fruit one day earlier than other fruit trees.In the orchard of God, this day is all generations. We are all children of the "Most High", but the Anointed One is His Firstborn Son, who resides in Jesus of Nazareth.Jesus walks among us and appears before our eyes. I say all this so that you can understand not only in your consciousness, but also in your soul.Consciousness can measure the situation, but the soul reaches the center of life and comprehends the mysteries of life.The soul seed is immortal. The wind blows, and then it will be quiet; the sea is rough, and then it will be tired; but the heart of life is a quiet and solemn space, where the shining stars are eternal. Manus of Pompeii: To a Greek The Jews and their neighbours, the Fat Nikians, are no more likely than the Arabs to let their gods be at rest in the wind for a moment. They care too much about the divinity of the gods, and care too much whether others observe prayer, worship, and sacrifice. While we Romans build marble temples for the gods, those debate the nature of the gods; we sing and dance around the altars of Vepiter, Juno, Mars, and Venus on happy occasions, and Even in the hour of great joy they will put on sackcloth, anoint their heads with ashes, and even lament the day of their birth. They tormented Jesus, who had manifested God as the God of joy, and finally put him to death. These people would not rejoice with a god of joy, but only their god of sorrow. Even the friends and apostles of Jesus, who knew his joys and heard his laughter, made an idol of his sorrow, and worshiped it. In such worship, they do not ascend to the realm of divinity, but only allow divinity to condescend to them. And I believe that this philosopher Jesus, who is no different from Socrates, will eventually control his nation, and even other nations. Because we are naturally gloomy and fond of pigs and taboos, when someone shouts to us: "Let us have fun with the gods", we have to be wary of his voice.Oddly enough, this man's pain turned into ritual! These people wish to find another Adonis who was slain in the forest, and they will celebrate his slaying.It's a pity they didn't notice his laughter. But we Romans have to admit to the Greeks: Have we ever noticed the laughter of Socrates on the streets of Athens?Even in the theater of Dionysus, when have we ever forgotten the goblet of venom? Don't our elders still tell each other's troubles in the streets and corners, and enjoy the happy moments from remembering the tragic ending of all our great men? Pontius Pilate My wife had talked about him many times before he was brought before me, but I paid no attention. My wife was a dreamer, and like many Roman women of her class, she was fascinated by oriental rituals and ceremonies.These ceremonies were a menace to the Roman Empire, and once they penetrated our women's hearts, they were destructive. Egypt was doomed when the Arabian Hyksos brought their desert god; when Ashtat came with seven maidens from the shores of Syria, Greece was conquered and laid waste. As for Jesus, I had never seen this man before, until he was brought before me as a criminal, as an enemy of his own country and Rome. Jesus was tied up with ropes and taken into the judgment hall. I was sitting in a high chair when Jesus walked towards me with firm strides and stood still, His head held high. I can't describe how I felt at that moment, but I had a sudden desire (though not of my own volition) to get up, get out of the chair, and bow down before him. It seemed to me that the man who entered the hall was Tazza, a figure greater than Rome. But this is only a momentary thought.Then all I saw was a man accused of being a traitor by his own people.I am his ruler and judge. I asked him questions, but he didn't answer, just looked at me.There was pity in his eyes, as if he were my commander and judge. At this time, there were shouts from the crowd outside the door.But he remained silent, still looking at me with pity. I walked out of the hall and stood on the steps.When people saw me appear, they stopped shouting.I asked, "What do you want to do with this man?" They shouted in unison: "We will kill him! He is our enemy and the enemy of Rome!" Some cried, "Didn't he threaten to destroy the temple? Didn't he claim the kingdom? We have only one king." Now I turn away from the people and walk into the courtroom.I saw him still standing alone where he was, his head still held high. I remembered reading a Greek philosopher who said, "He who is alone is the strongest." In this moment, Jesus of Nazareth is greater than his people. I don't feel sympathetic, he doesn't need my sympathy. I asked him, "Are you the King of the Jews?" He said nothing. I asked again: Didn't you say that you are the king of the Jews? " He looked directly at me, and then replied in a calm tone, "You yourselves proclaimed me king. Perhaps it was for this purpose that I was born to bear witness to the truth." See, at such moments he is still talking about "truth"! I couldn't help shouting, to myself and to him: "What is truth? What is truth to a man who has nothing to do when he is picked up by the executioner?" Jesus said forcefully, "No one can rule the world except by spirit and truth." I asked, "Are you spiritual?" He replied, "You too, although you don't know it." When I, for the sake of the country, when someone else sends an innocent person to death in order to stick to the ancient law, what spirit and truth is there? No one, no nation, no empire will stop facing the truth on the road of self-improvement. I asked again, "Are you the King of the Jews?" He replied, "You said it yourself. Before that, I conquered the world." Of all the things he said, this was the only one that didn't quite fit.Because only Rome has ever conquered the world. At this time, the shouts of the crowd reappeared, even louder than before. I got off the high chair and said to him, "Come with me." I was on the hall steps again, and Jesus was standing next to me. When the people saw him, they roared like thunder.Amid the din of voices, all I could hear was: "Crucify him! Crucify him!" I handed him back to the priests who had brought him, and I said, "Do as you please with this righteous man. If you wish, you may take some Roman soldiers to guard him." So they took him away.I ordered it written on the cross above his head: "Jesus of Nazareth: King of the Jews." I should have written: "Jesus of Nazareth: A King." He was stripped, beaten with whips, and finally crucified. I could have saved his life, but it would have caused a riot.It was wise for a governor of a Roman province to tolerate the religious bigotry of a failed nation. I now believe that this man was not just an agitator.My judgment is not of my will, but for Rome's sake. Soon after, we left Syria.My wife became a sentimental woman from that day on.Right here, in this garden, I still see her sad face from time to time. I've heard that she used to talk about Jesus to other Roman women. look!The man I sentenced to death has returned from Hades and entered my home! I asked myself again and again: what is truth?What is not truth? Is it possible that this Syrian ruled over us in the silence of the night? Certainly not. For Rome must overcome the nightmare of our wives. Bartholomew in Ephesus The enemies of Jesus said that he preached to the slaves and the untouchables, inciting them to rebel against their masters; But let's look at who Jesus' disciples were and how he led them. At first he chose for his companions some men from the Northland, free men, strong and strong, and courageous.In the past forty years, they have dedicated themselves bravely and looked at death as home. Do you think these people are slaves or untouchables? Do you think the proud princes of Lebanon and Armenia forget their place when they accept Jesus as a prophet sent by God? Do you think that the sons and daughters of the noblemen of Antioch, Byzantium, Athens, and Rome would be moved by the voice of a slave leader? No, the Nazarene was not with the slave against the master, nor with the master against the slave.He gangs up with no one against anyone else. He is above all others, and the blood rushing in his flesh sings with passion and strength. If nobility consists in appraising others, he is the noblest of all beings; if freedom is manifested in thought, word, and action, he is the freest of all beings; Detached but always gentle and kind, he is the most noble of all living beings. Don't forget that only the strong and fast runners will win the competition and win the crown.Jesus was crowned both by those who loved him and by his enemies, although they didn't know it. To this day, the priestesses of Artemis still coronate him every day in hidden corners of the temple. Matthew One night, Jesus passed by a prison in the "Tower of David", and we followed him. He stopped suddenly, pressed his face against the stone wall of the prison, and said: "My brothers of old, my heart beats with yours beyond the bars, may you be free men in my free kingdom, and walk with me and my companions." "You are imprisoned, but you are not alone. How many prisoners walk in the highway passages! They are like peacocks with wings intact, fluttering and unable to fly." "My brothers of the morrow, I shall soon visit your prisons and bear your burdens on my shoulders. For the innocent and the guilty are as inseparable as the two bones of the forearm." "My brothers today, you swim against the current of the people's reason and are captured for it. They say that I also go against the current. Perhaps, soon I will be with you, a transgressor of the law. one of those people." "Brothers of days to come, these walls shall fall, and he who hath light as his hammer and wind as his chisel shall build with these stones another building. In my new free day you shall stand free ." After saying this, Jesus continued on his way.His hand kept touching the stone wall of the prison until he passed the "Tower of David". Andre Death is painful, but life without him is even more painful.With his silence the day grows dull, and only the echo of my memory repeats his words, and his voice is lost. I heard him say once, "When you desire, go to the fields and sit among the lilies, and you will hear them whispering in the sun. Lilies do not weave cloth nor build stones for shelter. , but it sings." He who "works at night" fulfills the need of the flower, and the dewdrops of his gift shine on the petals. " "Aren't you also cared for by the land that never tires and never rests?" Once again I heard him say, "Your Father has counted all the birds of the sky, as he sees the hairs of your hair. Every bird that falls at the feet of your archers, every thread that grows white or grows old on your heads, All the hairs that fall out at the age of 10 are all due to his will." On another occasion he said: "I have heard you murmuring in your motions: Our God will be more merciful to us, the children of Abraham, than to the Gentiles who at first did not know him." "But I tell you, the owner of the vineyard puts one farmer to work in the morning and another in the evening, and pays both of them the same. The owner has a reason for doing this: can't he do what he wants? Pay your own money?" "Therefore my Father will open the door of the temple to Gentiles who knock, as you knock. He loves new tunes as much as he loves old songs; and he will show special welcome, for this is the youngest chord of his heart." Another time I heard him say, "Remember: A thief is a man in distress; a liar is a man in fear; and the pig that is chased by your watchman in the night is chased by his own watcher in the dark." "I wish you mercy on all these people." "If they visit your house, open the door to entertain guests and let them sit at the table. If you have not accepted them, then you are not innocent of what they have committed." One day, many people and I followed him to the marketplace in Jerusalem, and he told us the parable of the prodigal son, and the parable of the merchant who gave all he had for a single pearl. He's telling how the Pharisees brought up a woman they called a whore.They said to him defiantly: "She violated her marriage vows and was caught in the act of adultery." He looked at her intently, put his hand on her forehead again, and gazed deeply into her eyes. Then he turned to the people who had brought her, looked at them for a long time, then bent down and began to write with his fingers on the ground. He wrote down each person's name, and next to the name he wrote down the crime each person had committed. He was still writing, but those people had slipped into the streets in shame. When he finished writing, only the woman and us were left standing in front of him. He looked into the woman's eyes again and said, "You have too much love, and those who brought you have no love. Actually, they are trying to trap me with you." You go now in peace! " "There is no one here to judge you. If you want to be loving and wise, come to me. People will not judge you." At that time, I had doubts: Did Jesus speak to her like this because he himself was not without sin? After that I pondered for a long time.Now I understand: Only those who have no distracting thoughts will forgive those who drink dead water because of thirst. Only those who walk firmly will lend a helping hand to those who have stumbled. And I will say it again and again: death is painful, but life without him is even more painful. a rich man He made irresponsible remarks about the rich.Once I asked him, "Sir, how can I achieve peace of mind?" He told me to give wealth to the poor and follow him. But he has nothing, so he doesn't understand that wealth can bring confidence and freedom, and he doesn't understand the majesty and self-esteem of having wealth. There are one hundred and forty servants in my house, some of whom work in my groves and vineyards, and some command my armies on long voyages. Now if I give wealth to the poor according to what he said, what will happen to my powerful servants, servants, and their wives and children?Surely they would be reduced to wandering beggars at the city gates, in the porticoes of the temples. no.This good man does not know the secret of wealth.He and his disciples live by the gifts of others, and he wants all to live in this way. It is a real contradiction, a conundrum: Should the rich give their property to the poor?Must the poor get the cup and bread of the rich before welcoming others to the table? Does the owner of the tower have to entertain his employees before he can call himself the owner of his territory? Ants who store food for winter are wiser than those who sing and starve all day long. On the last Sabbath, one of his disciples said in the street market: No one is qualified to pillow on the threshold where Jesus put straw sandals in the kingdom of heaven. " But I want to ask: On the threshold of whose house can this honest vagabond put straw sandals?He had never had a home or fir himself, and he often couldn't even fit in straw sandals when he walked. John in Patmos I'm going to talk about him again. God gave me not words, but a voice and burning lips. I am not worthy to speak the perfect word, but I will call my heart to my lips. Jesus loves me and I don't know why. I love him too, for he lifts my soul above my body and into depths beyond my reach. Love is a sacred mystery. For the lover it never needs words. For those who don't love, it may just be an unintentional joke. Jesus called us when we brothers were working in the fields. I was young then, and only the voice of the dawn ever entered my ears. But his voice, like the sound of a trumpet, marked the end of my labor and the beginning of my passion. So, I have no other way but to go forward in the sunshine and worship the present time. Can you imagine: there is a majesty so benevolent that it is not majestic, and a beauty so provocative that it is difficult to perceive its beauty? Can you hear a voice shy with ecstasy in your dreams? He called me, and I followed him. That evening, I went back to my father's house to get some clothes. I told my mother, "Jesus of Nazareth wants me to be his companion." She said, "Son, go his way like your brother." So I accompanied him. His fragrance calls me, commands me, but only to set me free. Love is a generous host to the guest of love; but to the uninvited guest, the mansion of love is a phantom, and love a mockery. Now, you want to hear me explain the miracles of Jesus. We are all miraculous signs of this moment, and our Lord is the center of this moment. But he doesn't want his signs to be known. I have heard him say to the quilt, "Stand up and go home! But don't tell the priest that I healed you." Jesus' mind was not on the broken, but on the strong and standing. His thought seeks and grasps the thoughts of others, and his complete spirit visits the spirits of others. In this way, his spirit changed the minds and spirits of those people. It may seem like a miracle, but to our Lord it is as easy as a daily breath. Now let me talk about something else. One day he and I were walking alone in a field, and we were both hungry, so we came to a wild apple tree. There were only two apples on the branch. He hugged the trunk and shook it vigorously, and two apples fell down. He picked up two apples, handed me one, and held the other in his hand. I quickly ate the apples in my hunger. After eating, I saw that he was still holding the apple in his hand. He handed me the apple and said, "Eat this too." I took the apple and, feeling ashamed of my hunger, ate it. As I continued on my way, I looked at his face. How can I describe to you what I saw? Torches burn in the air in the night; A dream beyond our reach; At noon all the shepherds watched their sheep grazing with peace and joy; A dusk, a piece of tranquility, a homecoming; A deep sleep, a dream; I saw it all in his face. He gave me both apples, but I knew he was just as hungry. But I understand now: in giving me apples he was satisfied, and he himself ate another fruit from another tree. I would like to tell you more about him, but how can I? . When love becomes broad, it becomes speechless. When the memory load is too heavy, seek the depth of still overflow. Peter Once, in Lin Bainong, my Holy Lord said: "Your neighbor is another you living one wall away. In understanding, all walls will come down." "Who's to say your neighbor isn't a better person in someone else's body? Love him as you love yourself." "He is also a manifestation of the Most High whom you do not know." "Your neighbor is a field in which your spring of hope lingers in green, and in which your winter of wish dreams of snow-capped peaks." "Your neighbor is a mirror in which you see your beautified countenance. What beautifies you is a joy you are not aware of, a sorrow you are not sharing." "I want you to love your neighbor as I love you." At this point I asked, "How can I love a neighbor who doesn't love me? How can I love a neighbor who covets my money and goods and wants to steal my property?" He replied, "When you are plowing the field, and your servant is sowing the seed behind you, will you stop and look back, and drive away the sparrows that are eating your few seeds? If so, you are not worthy of the riches that come with the harvest. " After Jesus finished speaking, I felt ashamed and kept silent.But I'm not scared because he's smiling at me. A cobbler in Jerusalem I don't love him, but I don't hate him either.I listened to his speech not to hear the truth, but to hear his voice.His voice makes me happy. Everything he said was too obscure for my mind, but my ears could hear the music clearly. In fact, if I hadn't been introduced to his teachings, I wouldn't even know whether he was pro-Jewish or anti-Jewish. Susanna of Nazareth, Mary's neighbor I knew Mary, the mother of Jesus, before she married Joseph the carpenter, when we were both unmarried girls. In those days, Mary often saw visions, heard strange voices, and often spoke of angels who appeared in her dreams. The people of Nazareth cared about her very much, paying attention to her comings and goings.They looked at her with pleasant eyes, because her forehead was so high and her steps were so sassy. But some people say that she is possessed by a demon, because she only loves to walk alone. Although she is young, she is very mature in my eyes, because she has harvested in the flowering season and ripened in her spring. She was born and raised among us, but she was like a stranger in our northern land.In her eyes, there is always the confusion of not being familiar with our faces. She is proud, just like Miriam who marched with her brothers from the Nile into the wilderness in ancient times. Later, Mary was betrothed to Joseph, a carpenter. When Mary was pregnant with Jesus, she often took walks in the mountains.There was a look of joy and pain in Mu Guishi's eyes. When Jesus was born, I heard that Mary said to her mother: I am just a tree that needs to be pruned, and I will take good care of this fruit. "That's what Martha, the midwife, heard. I went to see her three days later.Her eyes were a little strange, her breasts rose and fell, and she held her only son in her arms, like a shell containing a pearl. We all love Mary's baby, we look at him, he radiates warmth, his pulse beats to the rhythm of life. As the years have grown, he has become a child with a smile on his face and a somewhat confused expression.None of us can predict what he will do, because he always looks like a foreigner.For all his audacity, no one ever reprimanded him. It was he who played with the other children, not the other children with him. When he was twelve years old, one day he led a blind man across a stream and onto a level road. The blind man asked him gratefully, "Son, who are you?" He replied, "I am not a child, I am Jesus." The blind man asked, "Who is your father?" He replied, "God is my Father." The blind man laughed and said again, "Well said, my boy. Who is your mother?" Jesus replied, "I am not your child. My mother is the earth." "Then I was led across the river by the Son of God and the Earth," said the blind man. Jesus said: "No matter where you go, I will stand for you, and my eyes will follow your steps." He develops and grows like a precious palm tree in our garden. At nineteen he was handsome as a stag, and his eyes seemed honeyed and full of the wonder of the day. In his mouth, there is the thirst of sheep in the desert looking for lake water. We gazed at him as he paced alone in the fields, and so did all the maidens of Nazareth.But in front of him, we are very shy. Love is always shy because of beauty; and beauty will always be pursued by love. Afterwards, the years enjoined him to speak in the temple and in the gardens of Galilee. Mary also often followed him, listening to his words, listening to the voice in her own heart.But when he went to Jerusalem with the people who loved him, she no longer accompanied him. Here's why: We Northerners are often taunted in the streets of Jerusalem, even when we go to the Temple to offer sacrifices.The proud Mary did not want to go to the south to be humiliated. Jesus also went to other countries in the East and the West. Although we don't know where he went, our hearts go with him. Mary was waiting for him at the door.Every evening, she stared at the road, looking forward to his return. And when Jesus came home, she would say to us, "How can I call myself His mother, who is too great for my children, and so eloquent for my silent heart to comprehend?" It seems to us that Mary could not believe that the mountain had been born out of the plain, and in her simplicity she did not see that the ridge was the way to the summit. She understood Jesus, but because he was her own son, she dared not recognize him. One day, when Jesus went to visit the fisherman by the lake, she said to me: "Aren't people just busy beings who wish to rise from the earth? Isn't it just a yearning for the stars?" "My son is a kind of longing, our longing for the stars." "Did I say my son? May God have mercy on me, and my heart desires to be his mother." At this point, it is difficult for me to tell more about Mary and her son.But although I seem to have the scriptures in my throat, and my words are as difficult as those walking with a stick, I will still tell some of my experiences. In the season of youth that year, when the red flowers of Pulsatilla were blooming all over the mountains and fields, Jesus called his disciples and said, "Come with me to Jerusalem to see the slaughter of sheep for the Passover." On the same day Mary came into my house and said, "He is going to the Holy City, will you go with me and the other women?" We followed Mary and her son on a long journey to Jerusalem.A group of men and women greeted us at the city gate, because the coming of Jesus had been heralded to those who loved him. But that night, Jesus left the city with his disciples. We heard that he had gone to Bethany, and Mary waited with us at the inn for his return. On the eve of Thursday, Jesus was caught outside the city and thrown into prison. When news of his imprisonment came, Maria said nothing.There was in her eyes the fulfilled look of pain and pleasure long foretold, which we had seen when she was the bride of Nazareth. She did not cry, but moved among us, like the ghost of a mother who would not weep over the death of her son. We sat on the floor with our heads bowed, while she stood upright, walking up and down the room.For a while, I stood by the window, looking towards the east, with my fingers inserted into my hair and held back. Until dawn, she still stood among us, like a lonely flag in the wilderness after the army has dispersed. We weep knowing what will happen to her son tomorrow.She didn't cry, because she also knew what would happen to him. Her bones are made of copper, her muscles are made of ancient elm, and her eyes are like the sky, vast and fearless. Have you ever heard the thrush sing while her nest burns in the air?Have you ever seen a woman who has no tears to drink when she is extremely sad?Have you ever seen a wounded heart beat in pain? You have never seen such a woman, because you have never stood before Mary, nor embraced by the Invisible Mother. In such silent hours, the bandaged silent hooves trample the sleepless chest.At this time, John, the youngest son of Zebedee, came and said, "Mother Mary, Jesus is leaving, let us go with him." Mary put her hand on John's shoulder and walked out, we followed behind. We approached the "Tower of David" and saw Jesus carrying the cross, surrounded by many people.Two others were also bearing the cross. With her head held high, Mary walks with us behind her son. Behind her, followed by Zion and Rome, rugged.And the whole world!To avenge a free man! When we reached the mountain, he was crucified high on the cross. I look at Maria.Her face was not like that of a woman who had lost her flesh and blood, but a look like that of fertile soil. The fertile soil is always alive, and will always bury her children in the air. Then, she recalled his childhood in her eyes.She yelled: "Not my son's son! You came; I am proud of your strength when you come to my buttocks. I know that every drop of blood that falls from your hands will become the fountainhead of a nation. " "You die in this storm, as my heart died in the setting sun, and I will not grieve." At this time, I really wanted to cover my face with my coat and run back to the Northland.But suddenly I heard Mary's call: Not my son's son!What did you say to the man on the right that made him happy in his agony?The shadow of death on his face talks so much, he can't take his eyes off you. " "Now you smile at me, and by the smile I know you've won." Jesus looked at his mother and cried, "Mary! From now on you will be John's mother." He said to John again, "Be a filial son of this mother, go to her house, and let your shadow cross the threshold I have passed on. You will do all this to remember me." Mary stretched out her right hand towards him, like a tree with only one branch.Again she cried, "Not my son's son! If this is God's work, may God give us patience and knowledge; if this is man's work, may God forgive this man forever." "If this is God's work, the white snow of Lebanon is your spiritual garment; if this is only the deed of those priests and soldiers, I have this garment to cover your body." "Not my son's son! What God has established here shall not perish; and what mortals would destroy remains standing beyond his sight." At this time, God handed him over to the earth, as if leaving behind a cry, a whisper. Mary also delivered him to the people, as if leaving a wound, a balm. She said, "Look, he's gone! The battle is over, the stars are up, the boats are in port, and the pulse of the person I cuddled in my heart is beating in the universe." We approached her and she said, "He was smiling when he died, he won. I would love to be the mother of the winner." Mary returns to Jerusalem, leaning on the young apostle John.She is already a woman whose wish has come true. When I arrived at the city gate, I observed her face, and I was amazed: Jesus' head was the highest of all the people on this day, but Mary's head was also held high. All this happens in spring. It is now autumn, and Mary, the mother of Jesus, has returned to her residence, alone in the vacant room. Two Sabbaths ago my heart was stoned, because my son had left me and sailed in a ship in Tyre, saying he would not come back. One evening, I visited Mary. When I approached her house, she was sitting at the loom, but instead of weaving, she was looking at the sky beyond Nazareth. I greeted her: "Hello, Mary." She opened her arms to me and said, "Come here, sit next to me, and let's watch the sunset pour blood on the mountains." I sat down on the stool beside her, and we looked out the window to the west. After a while, Mary said, "I wonder who nailed the sun to the cross this evening?" I said, "I have come to ask for your comfort. My son has left to find the sea, and now I am alone in the empty room at the intersection." Mary said, "I would love to comfort you, but how?" I replied, "I am comforted as long as you talk about your son." Maria smiled at me, put her hands on my shoulders and said, "Let me just talk about him. What comforts you, comforts me." Then she talked about Jesus, and many things from the beginning. As I listened to her talk, it seemed to me that she treated our two sons as one. For example, she said, "My son is also a sailor. I entrust my son to the waves. Why don't you entrust your son to the waves?" "Women are always buttocks, cradles, but never graves. We die to give life to others, just as our fingers weave the silk weaving the clothes we don't wear." "We cast our nets, but we never taste the fish we catch." "For this we grieve, but in it all there is our joy." Mary told me so. I left her and went back to my own home.Although the day is over, I still sit at the loom and weave. Joseph of Justus They said he was gross, the mediocre fruit of the mediocre seed, nasty and rough. They say that only the wind combed his hair, and only the rain washed his clothes and body. They regarded him as a lunatic, and what he said was a lie to confuse the public. But listen: the despised man voiced a challenge that will never die. He sang a song whose melody no one could catch.This song will be sung from generation to generation, and it will rise up in all nations; the lips that gave birth to this song, and the ears that nurtured this song will also be remembered. He is a stranger, yes, a stranger.He is a traveler to the Holy Land, a visitor who knocks on our door, and a guest from afar.