When have you heard the voice?

As a child, at the age of three or four, I first entered a church. It was an earthen house in a suburban courtyard. If it weren't for the door number engraved in red at the door, no one would think it was a church. At that time, I had to accompany my grandmother, who had inconvenient legs, to worship, and sometimes I would go to the preaching of the pastor (actually, I don't know what that is). Having started to learn to read, I read the Bible with my grandmother, and I can't remember the content. I only vaguely remember the full house during the service, the red drink in the plastic cup, a small piece of cake, and the cries of the people. Standing in the courtyard waiting for my grandma, I didn't understand what people were doing, didn't think about the reasons, I just saw going to church as part of taking care of my grandma.

At the age of 24, Berlin, at the Berlin Cathedral. When looking at this magnificent building from the outside, one cannot help but marvel at its beauty. But as soon as he entered, tears streamed down his face. The huge church radiated a soft light. The believers were sitting and praying with Bibles. In the center of the distance was the golden crucifixion. The candles on both sides were burning gently. At this time, my grandmother had passed away for half a year. Standing in front of the cross, the white light from the window shines on my body, just like in the play, the difference is that I didn't hear any calm voice, but at that time I was so hopeful that there would be a voice. I don't know how to pray, despite watching my grandma pray for over twenty years. He could only stand in front of the cross with tears in his eyes, looked at the statue of Jesus in front of him, and told him that he hoped he could take good care of his grandmother, but he did not respond.

In the play, the Pope asks: When did you hear the voice? The man replied like a poem reciting: Right here.

Seeing this, I don't know what to think. envious? Still in doubt? Religion works wonders and people need it differently. Some people look for its help when facing life and death, just like me; some people think of it when they are looking for themselves, each for its own reasons. But some people can hear that voice, and some people can't.

Perhaps the scientific power of atheism is too strong, it has always triumphed over my inner religion. It made me unable to wake it up when faced with pain, and could only helplessly listen to the cruelty brought to me by science.

Where is that voice?

Did you hear it?

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