-In memory of the last seven words Jesus said on the cross.
Forgive them-(one of seven words in ten frames)
"father! Forgive them because they don't know what they are doing. "
You were on the cross and watched the disciples disperse. Or stand far away and wait for the result-magical birth? Or a natural death?
Women cry, men look, no one wants to participate in your life and death process.
No one counts your sweat as blood. Prayer has been taken away by the night sky, tears and blood are mixed in the soil, and no one has packed it up and hidden it in his arms.
They either sleep, draw their swords or run away. You experience it alone, just like Gethsemane Garden under the night sky.
People have seen you perform miracles and heard you tell the mysteries of the kingdom of heaven in gorgeous language. Now I just watch in disappointment, taking what you said as a lie and what you did as a cloud. The person who wants to pay for your death died, lost his breath and fell crying in the distance. A crowing rooster judges people's loyalty.
You were on the cross, and you swallowed "death". In the oozing lung cavity, all human suffocation and panic have accumulated. Do you enter a limited body with infinite spirit just to experience this pain? In order to cry out in spasms and gasps-for help for those who suffocate in sin?
Oh! You, on the cross. Lower your eyes, look at the soldiers who tore you naked, and look at their hands. Their hands are whipped, and they hit you in the face; Their fingers look for the softness of your wrist and smash the nail in; Their hands pass you bitter wine ... at this moment, they are twisting their hands to possess your underwear, and they will not tremble at all because of the temperature on their clothes.
Only you, trembling for them. Through greedy eyes and cold swords, I deeply realized the coldness, hunger and poverty in people's hearts.
"father! Forgive them because they don't know what they are doing. "
The greatest poem of mankind tells the story of humiliating and cruel instruments of torture between two criminals, spreading the wings of motherhood and sheltering the crying and frightened soul. There is no gorgeous light, only simple and endless vastness-
What a pity-"they don't know". When human beings are proud of "knowledge" and make knowledge and wisdom a thin piece of gold that covers everything, whose conscience and soul depend on this compassion and this reason-"I don't know".
Father! Forgive them—
Together in heaven (two of the seven words in ten frames)
I tell you the truth, you will be with me in paradise today. ( 1)
You are imprisoned in shame. Naked. Like the prisoners around them, they were deprived of their dignity and ran away.
Who can understand? Why perfect truth and evil crime are nailed together in human instruments of torture; Compassion and evil spirits are presented together—
Contempt surrounds you. When you accept punishment by substituting innocence for guilt, ridicule will surround you.
If what you get is commensurate with what you do, people can put it down and let you go quietly. Whether you are from God or from a bright heaven, go back! You are the unworthy person in the world. May your glory and holiness leave us.
Or, you can hide in the mountains and recite vague scriptures in cigarettes.
Or, you can just walk into the steeple, write a book and talk about it.
People want to see saints who don't drink or eat, whose feet are not stained with mud, whose heads are not stained with dust, and who are far away from daily life; I hope the light stays away from the eyes that adapt to darkness.
"That light is the true light, illuminating all people born in the world. He is in the world, and the world was made through him, but the world doesn't know him. He came to his own place, but his own people did not receive him. " (2)
You shouldn't pick up an adulteress who was caught and say to her, I won't condemn you, go! Don't commit crimes from now on. (3)
You shouldn't go to the well in Succar and ask a disgraced woman for water to quench your thirst. Your revelation should be in the temple, not in front of the sinful woman. (4)
You shouldn't sit in a tax collector's house and talk about the beauty of the kingdom of heaven; (5) Don't look for food from ordinary fig trees. (6)
Oh! You shouldn't-let the light suddenly approach the darkness; Let heaven approach the earth so eagerly, and let people adapt to the dark eyes and shed tears in the light.
Son of man! You can't hide the light of life, but you can't help being close to the person you love. Oh-you are a real poet! It took you thirty-three years to swallow this sadness bite by bite until you die.
Until a condemned person-the one who was forced to give up his life, the one who confessed his sin and purified his soul-turned his face to you. He surpassed the humiliation seen by his eyes and saw the glory that his eyes could not see. Please remember him.
Oh! Son of man. It seems that the poems of your life can only be written for him, and all your blood and tears will only flow for him. Say to God the Father and heaven and earth: Today, I have a companion in heaven. He will eat and drink with me, and I will call him brother.
Mother (three words in ten frames)
"Mom, look at your son!" -"Look, your mother!"
Mom, look at your son-
When your heart is pierced by a knife, can that famous ode to the Lord build a temple for your broken heart?
"My heart respects the LORD, and my spirit delights in saving my God. From now on, ten thousand generations will call me blessed ... "
Now that the blessing cup has become a bitter cup, can you watch your son drink it all at once?
The angel who delivered the good news has returned to heaven, and you bear the fate from God alone. Totally lonely. Neither the children of the flesh nor the husbands of the world have the right to participate in this glorious cause. You and your god have experienced the loss of children respectively.
Mom, look at your son-
The one who loves me, my spirit is in him. He seems to be my poem, a continuation of my material life on earth.
Oh! Mother, you gave birth to an indelible life. This is a fact. This is the way. This is the conscience of mankind. Look! He is standing right next to you. I know and echo your lonely uterus in him; His love is with your blood and makes you cry.
Oh! Mom, I have created a miracle for you, turning water into wine. You can't bring unleavened cakes to the table again. When I am about to save mankind and open the door to heaven and hell, everything will fall at my feet again, but I can't help worrying about your daily life and diet.
Oh, mom! My hand is nailed. Please don't cry, because I can't wipe it off for you.
Disciples! Listen, your mother.
See the mother of the earth for your Lord and your God.
Look at her sadness, look at her hunger and cold, look at her hair turning white.
If God's love is in you, so is love and the love of all things. If you love truth, you love sinners.
Please live with the mother who lost her son on the ground for me!
Why did you abandon me (four of the seven words on the cross)
"Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Why did you abandon me? "
"Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Why did you abandon me-"
Why didn't I shout like this?
When I left Eden, people were with God there; When the flames around me blocked my way home, why didn't I shout like this on the way to exile?
When "survival" is abandoned by "life", when thoughts are abandoned by revelation, and when wisdom is abandoned by truth, why didn't I shout to heaven on this earth?
I sweat in the mud; I chew the same kind with sharp teeth and claws; I was thrown around by the world. Why don't you call for help like this?
I am the earth abandoned by heaven. I am abandoning the history of light. I am a child abandoned by my father-
When God hides his face because of human evil, why is no one afraid in this great darkness?
Is it because people are greedy and drunk? Or do people need to get drunk? In the indifferent death, human conscience, have you ever shouted? Can you still cry? Can you still pay attention to God? Experience how holiness was raped by sin and how a father was crucified by his son.
Oh, my god Oh, my God!
Do you want to show your broken heart with a corpse and a cavity of blood?
But the blind are still blind, and the indifferent are still indifferent.
Crying imprisoned in the human soul will only tear you-the only softness-into the sky.
At this moment, you hide your face from yourself. Let the lamb-like body suck up the filth, bitterness, fierceness and fornication of human beings. ...
Heaven and earth hide their faces from you-
Those who are cleansed by you hide their faces from you. Those who die of impurity hide their faces from you.
But no one understands the tearing sound inside you. This sound lasted for thousands of years. What a long process, is it a moment? Is it eternal? How can people really understand you!
Eli. Eli. Rama Saba Patani-
I'm thirsty (five out of seven words)
The crucified God said to mankind: I am thirsty!
He said to the rich man: I am thirsty; He also said to the poor: I am thirsty. He said to the nobles: I am thirsty; He even said to the humble: I am thirsty.
He said to those who have ears and those who have no ears, I am thirsty.
Scholars hear it-regard it as a profound philosophical proposition. Spend your whole life looking for everything. But I can't quench my thirst with this glass of water.
The poet heard it-thirst burned on his lips and tongue. Pieces of text have been cracked, and no more bleeding and tears can be squeezed for God and people. Die or give up poetry.
The emperor heard it-just like facing a question. Staring at the seal in your hand, watching the shadow of life and death in the wind. Void void, everything is void. The more wisdom, the more troubles.
The preacher heard it. Like a phone call. With a mission, they traveled everywhere and collected souls like water drops. God drank, but still looked at him and said-thirsty.
A woman in a high wall heard it.
She walked out of the high wall and walked into the thirsty people in the world, helping every "god" who fell on the side of the road.
For more than half a century, she has given up on herself again and again, only to wet the dust of the world.
However, God looked at the woman and helped her stop running. They are thin, cracked and rough. Many times, I am as naked as the feet of the son of God. In the dust, I walked to the thirsty people again and again, to the thirsty God.
Oh, my god I am thirsty!
When my thirst meets your thirst, I will return to your heart, so that we will not be thirsty.
Done (six out of ten words)
Are you describing it calmly? Or proudly declared?
Did you make a hullabaloo about at the resort? Or a whisper of comfort?
Talking to yourself? Is it comfort? Is it to expose a fact? Or cover hundreds of millions of dreams?
At that moment, I felt the change of heaven and earth, huge and mysterious.
It explodes in the air, travels through time and space, penetrates all kinds of barriers in the universe, penetrates the atmosphere in the human spirit, and pounces on cheeks and chest.
Humans have different views on this. How many wise men wrote great chapters for these two words, but they could not satisfy my delicate love.
I am eager to see every flashing process in your eyes from these two words; Look at your brow clearly and shake it loosely and tightly. Eager to distinguish the countless melodies in your voice. Understand the lingering sound, which ray of Ran Ran rises and which ray falls heavily.
I even wish I could feel the breathing in your lung cavity and the change of your blood pulse. If you allow me, I ask you to let your humble maid share your lonely, forbearing and meticulous feelings.
Through the light of these two words, I saw the dead saints in the grave.
Seeing their weak fingers, how to hold back their palms one by one; See how those eyelashes shake off the dust of death and slowly lift them up like a cheering forest; See the truth clearly and open your eyes to mankind again; Seeing the glorious awe, how to walk from the wilderness into the city of people.
The Gate of Hell, the stone tablet that seals life, is cracked because of the two syllables spit out from your mouth. It has been expanding and extending.
I open my heart and lungs to approach and feel this ability, absorb and store it. I am eager to use it to break the "death" of every moment in my life. I can't praise the dullness of every moment. .
My spirit! Come back. Can you follow the ancient saints, get up from the cracked grave, enter the city gate and reveal "heaven" to me? Knock on the door of my rusty lock with the word "finish"; Can you live in this empty house again and let it drink cigarettes with a smile?
Father-(seven out of ten words)
"father! I put my soul into your hands. "
At this moment, you wander between heaven and hell, letting life and death tear you apart.
All the people in the world are eager to escape from this panic. But no one can escape, and "fear", such as last night's dream-leaving-cannot disappear.
And you, the "Tao" that enters the world, are different from the world. The eternal father is the rock of your soul and blood. Say: Dad! I give my soul to you.
Thus, in this sentence, your soul has become the center of the whirlpool of the universe and has become an absolute and fragrant "rest".
This sweetness is beyond the reach of human beings. This kind of "rest" hangs over human "beauty", so that "beauty" can't stop trembling for a moment, and it can't avoid its own imperfections for a moment.
That regret made the revelers drink but not get drunk; Those who avoid the world are silent and can't be quiet. It is a mirror in front of philosophers and a red dancing shoe in the poet's soul.
Father!
Where is my father? Where is the father who can rest my blood? Where are those warm knees?
How I wish my soul could perch on it, like a dove with broken wings. Stop the tumultuous resentment and crazy questioning.
Father, you are the anchor of my blood.
Have your broad palms reached out to me now? Can you let me put "life" and "death" on it, melt into your palm and become a "rest" with no beginning and no end?
In this life, I have been betrayed repeatedly by "sobriety" and "intoxication"; I wander back and forth between wisdom and ignorance. I entered the WTO and was born again. I am celibate and indulgent. There is no place for me on the ground or in the sky; There is no room for me to hide in the underworld and hell.
Father of life, my fate seems to be a pattern of clothes hanging from you, a word hidden by light.
Father who knows my soul, where are you?
How can I give you back my breath and blood? How can I enter your glorious bloodline-rest in peace?
The son of God rests on the cross, an instrument of death.
People's daughters cry in their thoughts, which is a torture device for survival.
If you enter my crying on the ground, can I enter your rest in heaven? ——
In 20031February, it was completed in Sha Ying Building.