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The Forty-fifth Utterance

The Word Appears in the Flesh

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The Forty-fifth Utterance

I once chose the fine goods to remain in My house, so that within it there would be unparalleled riches, and it would be thus adorned, from which I gained enjoyment. But because of man’s attitude toward Me, and because of people’s motivations, I had no choice but to put this work aside and do other work. I shall use man’s motivations to accomplish My work, I shall maneuver all things to serve Me, and cause My house to no longer be gloomy and forlorn as a result. I once watched among man: All that was of flesh and blood was in a stupor, not a single thing experienced the blessing of My existence. People live amid blessings but don’t know how blessed they are. If My blessings toward mankind had not existed unto today, who among mankind would have made it to the present and not perished? That man lives is My blessing, and it means he lives amid My blessings, because he originally had nothing, because he was originally without the capital to live between heaven and earth; today I continue to help man, and only because of this does man stand before Me, lucky enough to escape death. People have summed up the secrets of man’s existence, but no one has ever perceived that this is My blessing. As a result, all people curse the injustice within the world, they all complain about Me because of the unhappiness in their lives. If not for My blessings, who would have seen today? People all complain about Me because they are unable to live amidst comfort. If man’s life was bright and breezy, if the warm “spring gust” was sent into the heart of man, causing unsurpassed pleasantness in his whole body, leaving him without the slightest pain, then who among man would die complaining? I have great difficulty gaining man’s absolute sincerity, for people have too many crafty schemes—enough, quite simply, to make one’s head spin. But when I raise objections to them, they give Me the cold shoulder, they pay no attention to Me, for My objections have touched their souls, leaving them incapable of being edified from head to toe, and thus people loathe My existence, for I always love to “torment” them. Because of My words, people sing and dance, because of My words, they lower their heads in silence, and because of My words, they burst out weeping. In My words, people despair, in My words, they gain the light for survival, because of My words, they toss and turn, sleepless day and night, and because of My words, they rush about all over the place. My words plunge people into Hades, then they plunge them into chastisement—but, without realizing it, people also enjoy My blessings. Is this achievable by man? Could it come in return for people’s tireless efforts? Who can escape the orchestrations of My words? Thus, because of man’s failings, I bestow My words upon mankind, causing man’s deficiencies to be nourished because of My words, bringing unparalleled riches to the life of mankind.

I often scrutinize people’s words and actions. In their behavior and facial expressions, I have discovered many “mysteries.” In people’s interactions with others, “secret recipes” practically take pride of place—and thus, when I engage with man, what I gain is the “secret recipes of human interaction,” which shows that man does not love Me. I often reprimand man because of his failings, yet I am incapable of gaining his trust. Man is unwilling to let Me slay him, for in the “secret recipes of human interaction” of man, never has it been discovered that man has suffered a fatal disaster—he has merely suffered a few setbacks during times of misfortune. People cry out because of My words, and their pleas always contain grievances about My heartlessness. It is as if they are all searching for My true “love” of man—but how could they find My love in My stern words? As a result, they always lose hope because of My words. It is as if, as soon as they read My words, they behold the “grim reaper,” and thus tremble with fear. This makes Me unhappy: Why are the people of the flesh, who live amid death, always afraid of death? Are man and death bitter enemies? Why does the fear of death always cause distress in people? Throughout the “exceptional” experiences of their lives, do they only experience a little of death? Why, in what they say, do people always complain about Me? Thus, I summarize the fourth aphorism for human life: People are only the slightest bit obedient toward Me, and thus they always hate Me. Because of man’s hate, I often leave. Why must I subject Myself to this? Why must I always provoke loathing in people? Since people do not welcome My existence, why must I put on a brave face and live in the house of man? I have no choice but to take My “luggage” and leave man. But people can’t bear to let Me go, they never want to let Me leave, they wail and sob, deeply afraid that I will depart, and they will thus lose what they depend on to live. Seeing their imploring gaze, My heart softens. Amidst the seas of the world, who is capable of loving Me? Man is covered in filthy water, engulfed by the force of the sea. I loathe man’s disobedience, yet I also feel compassion for all mankind’s misfortune—for man, after all, is still a victim. How can I cast man into the waters when he is weak and powerless? Am I so cruel as to kick him when he’s down? Is My heart so ruthless? It is because of My attitude toward mankind that man enters this age alongside Me, it is because of this that he has passed these exceptional days and nights together with Me. Today, people are in an agony of joy, they have a greater sense of My affection, and they love Me with great vigor, because there is vitality in their lives, and they cease to be prodigal sons wandering to the ends of the earth.

In My days living with man, people rely on Me, and because I am considerate of man in all things, and meticulous in My care for him, people always live in My warm embrace, enduring none of the blowing wind, driving rain, or burning sun; people live amidst happiness, and treat Me as a loving mother. People are like flowers in a greenhouse, utterly incapable of withstanding the onslaught of “natural disasters,” ever incapable of standing firm. Thus I place them amidst the trials of howling seas, and they can’t help but ceaselessly “waver,” they have practically no power to resist—and because their stature is too lacking and their bodies are too weak, I feel a sense of burden. Thus, without realizing it, people are subjected to My trials, because they are too fragile, and unable to stand the howling winds and burning sun. Is this not My work of the present? Why, when faced with My trials, do people always burst into tears? Am I doing them an injustice? Am I deliberately slaying them? Why does the state of man that is lovable die, never to be resurrected? People always grab Me and don’t let go; because they have never been capable of living on their own, they have always allowed themselves to be led by My hand, deeply afraid of being taken away by someone else. Are their whole lives not guided by Me? During their tumultuous lives, as they cross peak and vale, they have experienced much tumult—did this not come from My hand? Why are people never able to understand My heart? Why are My good intentions always misunderstood by them? Why can My work not be embarked upon successfully on earth? Because of man’s weakness, I have always shunned man, which fills Me with sorrow: Why can’t My next step of work be carried out in man? Thus, I fall silent, carefully weighing him up: Why am I ever constrained by man’s defects? Why are there always obstructions to My work? Today, I have yet to find a full answer in man, for man always blows hot and cold, he is never normal, he either hates Me to his bones, or has the utmost love for Me. I, the normal God Himself, can’t stand such torment from man. Because people are always mentally abnormal, I am seemingly a little fearful of man, and so watching his every move makes Me think of his abnormality. I have unintentionally discovered the mystery in man: It turns out there is a mastermind behind him; as a result, people are always bold and confident, as if they’ve done something justified. Thus, people always pretend to be an adult and sweet-talk the “little child.” Watching man’s charade, I can’t help but grow incensed: Why are people so unloving and disrespectful of themselves? Why don’t they know themselves? Have My words passed away? Are My words the enemy of man? Why, when they read My words, do people grow resentful toward Me? Why do people always add their own thoughts to My words? Am I too unreasonable toward man? All people should think hard about this, about what is contained within My words.

May 24, 1992

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