Blessed are the dead to read. Jun Aivide Lindkvist "Blessed are the Dead"

Dedicated to Fritjof

If the river turns around in a dream

Death is gostra golka,

Primushuyucha to see

I turn on the light,

Visvitlyuvav all our life.

- Salute, commander!

Henning lifted a box of wine, addressing the vіtannya memorial plaques in the asphalt. Pozhovkla troyanda was lying on the very same place, sixteen years ago, Olof Palme was killed. Hennіng sіv navpоchіpki і provіvі hand over swollen letters.

- So, - having said wine, - do our trash. Chuesh, Olofe, clean up the trash.

The head was cracking, but the wine was not up to anything here. Passers-by walked, drunk on the ground, squeezing their temples with their palms.

That evening everything, it seemed, felt a thunderstorm, but the tension and without that electrified wind became more and more faint. The tension became unbearable, but the bridging didn't work. No gloom in the sky, no thunderous grumbling in the distance. There was a lot going on outside the window, an invisible magnetic field was choking the evening place.

It seemed that the supply of electricity was no longer stale with the work of power plants - in the ninth year of the ninth, it was impossible for the whole of Stockholm to turn off the light, or turn off the electrical appliances. Likewise, the plug was humming, the socket hooted menacingly with sparks, and electric discharges were worn between the contacts, preventing the attachment from plugging in.

And the magnetic field grew.

Henning's head was cracked, instead they wrapped it with a prickly dart under tension. Pulsating beat tore at the temples. Tse guessed vitonchene katuvannya.

"Shvidka" rushed past the whistles - chi after the term-term call, chi simply did not turn on the siren. Here in Uzbekistan there were cars with upgraded engines.

Farewell, commander!

Henning lifted the package of wine, raised his head and turned the tap. Chervony strumin sloshing on the pidboriddi and sweat on the shii, the first lower vin managed to direct the yogo into the mouth. Vіn flattening his eyes, having grown a couple of greedy kovtkіv. Droplets of wine were already dripping down their breasts, rippling out of sweat.

More damn speck!

The forecasts of meteorological services throughout the country showed some sleepy cola, which only laughed. The stones of the pavements and wakes went wild with heat, which had piled up during the day, - and strike at once, about the eleventh night, it was thirty degrees on the street.

Nodding goodbye to the late prime minister, Hennig straightened at the bik Tunnelgatan behind the killer's route. The plastic handle of the wine packaging was torn off, while the car was still in the air, and now it was squeezing the box under the incense. Vlasno head was given to you at once majestic, as if a sack was turned, - the chola stumbled out about every sudden change.

On the dotik, everything was bulo garazd, hiba scho yogo's fingers swollen in the speck of that wine.

Weather, your mother. Damn it.

The street rose steeply uphill. Hopping on to the railing, climbing up the gathering after gathering, carefully rearranging the legs. The skin of the unsteady croc, sounding like a ring at the head, zavdayuchi beat. Vіkna on the offence, the sides of the descent were vіdchinenі navstіzh, the lights were on fire. From three apartments the valley was full of music.

Tsієї khvilini Henning is painfully thirsty for darkness. Darkness and silence. For the sake of this varto, it was drunk until you spend your remembrance.

Having risen from the gatherings, I started to take a breath. Yomu became daedalі hіrshe — chi vіn zovsіm raskleїvsya, chi was given a sign of all the devil with electricity. The knock at the cloaks changed the hellish white that pierced the brain through and through.

Ni, on the right is clearly not in the new.

I remembered the car, parked quickly on the pavement. The engine of inclusions, the doors of the water, the speakers - "Living Doll" to the fullest. And water navpochipki, right in the middle of the street, hugging your head with your hands and sitting.

Henning having flattened his eyes, then let's re-flatten his eyes.

Blessed are the dead who die with the Lord. Їy, like the Spirit, the stench will calm down in the presence of their own, and let them go after them.(Announcement 14, 13), - preaching to us the word of God.

Praise our conversation with you on the day of commemoration of the dead, we are dedicated, my dear, to holy words. The holy whistle, which we have guessed to you, prompts us to think not less about them, as if they were already dreaming of their death, and about themselves, the living, who are still approaching the skin of their life to the threshold of death.

Death is the end of earthly troubles, people's worries, earthly troubles, end of life and numerical, often severe ailments and suffering, which we know so often, one might say, stretching out our life. Mine live with you, we will appreciate the land, and the stench, the dead, have already reached the Heavenly Motherland. We, live, are still swimming in life's troubles, and the stench has already gone to the quiet harbor of eternal life. Mine is in the fetters of his body, and the stench is already in the will of the spirit.

All earthly joys, earthly sorrows and earthly lures are now nothing for them. The stink of the dead is dead. Yakby was troubling with the lifeless body of the dead treasures of the world's treasures, cold hands do not reach out for these treasures. None of the cries of merriment and none of the rejoicings awaken the bodily hearing of the deceased, which has gone out forever. Everyday hot tears do not grow colder, breathless body.

Death is a man's calm(Job 3:23). Death is the calm body of a person. Ale, a calm body, like it is for a dead skin, does not mean the peace of mind of our brother, leaving the earth. For them, our dead ones, there are no joys of earthly sorrows, but the stinks of their joys and their sorrows in eternal life, where the stinks have moved with an immortal soul.

With such sorrows, the soul of a sinner enters the eternal life, without repentance, lying at his sins, without washing the grace of repentance, forgetting about God, and about his immortal soul! I’m like a joy, like happiness, like a moment - the share of the tієї vіddanї to the Lord of the soul, like it prepared for itself until the life of the future century and moved there, to the land of a never-ending life, with faith and its good Christian life!

Axis why and tell us the word God: Blessed are the dead who die with the Lord. The word God did not say: Blessed are the dead, but add: what die in the Lord. Having moved into life, as if they didn’t know the end, the stench went up to the Heavenly Father’s Budinka.

Who lives in the Lord, who is the one who directs his soul to God in his earthly life, who lives by faith in the New, our youngest Savior and Heavenly Father. Vіn vіruvav at Nyogo, like Dzherelo our life, Yakiy gives us unfailing blessings and among them - one of the first and most expensive blessings - earthly life for preparation for eternal life. Vіn іz tієyu viroi i crossed the threshold of death.

The one who strikes death with light in the soul, loving the Lord, in the days of her earthly life, with all the strength of her soul, that heart. Vin wanted to live as the Lord commands us to live; having defeated the one, so that the Lord zapanuvav have yogo souls, schob Vin Himself cherubov yogo thoughts, yogo feelings, yogo bazhannyami. Such a love to love your Lord, good Christian.

Finish your earthly path with the Lord, who, chanting the commandment of Christ about love to your neighbor, hastening, while walking on this earthly path, wipe the tears of the weeping, help the poor, generously forgiving, image, cover, image, without paying for good with evil, without repenting to evil evil. By the method of this life, it was possible to create more good for people. About such a person and yogo’s foe could not have been otherwise, lower saying Saul of the prophets of David, being a fierce yogi foe: “You are right for me, for you have done good to me, and I have given you evil” (1 Samuel 24, 18).

Worthy enter the eternal life of the one who, following the commandment of Christ, joking us in front of the Kingdom of God and the Truth of Yogo. Vin by no means forgetting about his immortal soul, lively її Divine spiritual hedgehog. In the middle of your life, work and turbot wines, start remembering that with the first thought, the first yogo bajan, the first yogo may be the salvation of the soul, so that the immortal soul stood before the Special God, ready to eternal life, let us drink it in the Lord, let's make love with the son of the Heavenly Father.

Go to death is alive(Іo. 5, 24) that Christian, who was heard by the Holy Church, for її calling came to the holy temple of God, loving the holy saints, having a believing soul experiencing the sacred podії, which are haunted by the days of our great saints, chanting the saints of God, reverently at the temple hearing the words of prayers, the words of the Divine Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ and the pastoral sermon.

The one who wants to die as a true Christian - with a protracted life of his own, whispers of Christ's truth to his lawless and sinful filth, does not pay repentance for sins in the absence of a new "tomorrow". For the mind, cry for your falls, which represent holiness and love to the new Heavenly Father. With fear, faith and love, accept the Holy Mysteries of Christ, as a pledge of eternal life and our eternal life, do not stick to the life of the future age, sympathy with the most recent Lord.

Die in the Lord, who - as a blessing to you, the Lord to die at the witness - call on the servant of Christ's Church and punish yourself for the rest of the ways, saying goodbye to earthly lives, standing by the mystical threshold of death, through which we will inevitably cross, if we come for the skin of us the rest of the year.

Whoever lives in the Lord, blessed, speak the word God to us.

If the Lord hadn’t buried Yogo’s soul before Himself, chi in deep human old age, chi in the development of earthly life; that a person has passed through a long life of testing, an ailment, that sorrow has not yet caught the suffering of suffering, that peace; if you will die, your relatives and dear ones, as if in the hands of people who are dearest to you, if it is possible, the Lord will send people's death far away from us, left us and deprived without everyday turbos, maybe in the midst of heavy torments, in such cases not a moment of yoga vryatuvat or make it easier - the one who has lived his life with the Lord, dying, say with your believing heart: "Ni let your servant, Vladiko!"

Say such a servant of God to your heart: "You, Lord, bring my soul out of the bodily wound, take it to Yourself from the countryside, crying tears, those sorrows there, de nema ne zithan, ne ailment, ne sadness. You call my soul before Myself I sing to You there and bow there to You before Your Most Pure Face. May Your will be good!"

I have a great hope for my life from the Lord and I hope for those that the Lord will have mercy on him in His Eternal Life, to bring malt and the terrible year of my death.

And, perhaps, say one of you, my dear: in order to die like this - with light, with joy - you need to be holy, you need to reach the heights of holiness. And how can we, German, sinful, fall into new and new sins today? Axis, dear: there is a great difference between those who fall and those who are left to lie in their sins and among those who fall, and then rise again from the yami of their fall. The word of God to tell us that this righteous man falls once a day, but, falling, he rises again (Prinov. 24, 16) and the power of God strengthens him.

If Yuda was killed with a grave mortal sin. I leaned in nets, at the full of the devil, the enemy of the human race. Ale Judas, without trying to break through the tears of repentance, those diabolical nets, with which you have entangled the yogic enemy of our guard. Vіn not repenting and perishing with eternal death, pressing in.

The Apostle Peter three times recited his Lord, his Divine Teacher, repented - and immediately wept with tears of repentance. Qi tears vryatuly yoga in death; the stench turned to a new love and likeness of Christ. Marked by the grace of the Holy Spirit, the Apostle Peter became the First Supreme Apostle of our Holy Church, the great bearer of holiness about the Lord.

Can we live our lives sinlessly? Ni. Zhodna lyudina "will be alive and will not die". But you need to be afraid of sin, you need to hurry up in the face of something new, for sin leads to eternal death.

How can one of us say that we are victorious in our lives all the commandments of God? Ni. The invisible enemy of our salvation stole the soul of a person on the skin, sob shovhnut її on sin. And yet we cannot be deprived of the sinless, we can and are guilty, loving the commandments of God, with all our souls bazhat tsimi commandments of God to live, win them over from your life.

How can we say that we will be left clean until the end of our days? Ni. Alemy is guilty of loving purity, pragnate before it, so that your heart and soul are not engulfed in a sinful maze, in slavery to the devil, whichever you want, to infect the immortal soul of a person, more out, - like a holy apostle, - like a roaring the lion whispers, whom to perish (I Pet. 5, 8), and, whom you know, cherish yourself.

It is not possible and cannot be sinless people - one God is without sin. Alemy, I am guilty of my sins to bring God's repentance. For this, having deprived the Lord of the holy sacrament of repentance, so that our immortal soul would often bathe in its sinful filth. For this, having fallen asleep, the Lord took part in the holy sacrament, so that, living with the Divine Body and Blood, we through the ce were with small leaves and needles on the Grape Vine, with which the Lord Jesus Christ equaled Himself (IV. 15, 1-6); so that we were filled with the juices of the grace of God in the New Year, which reminded us of the fight against sins, gave us the strength and fortitude to endure the sins calmly, overcome all the steps of the devil, the father of every sin (Іv. 8, 44).

Hear what St. John Chrysostom, his great teacher of the fourth century of Christianity, roaming over the words of Christ: "Blessed are you servants, such pans, who have come, know the saws" (Lk. 12, 37). The axis of the words of Chrysostom: "Pilnavati over his heart is the Christian Treba Zzhzhdi. Yakshcho Mi pragnemo, viconati viconati to the star, ahead of the heart to protect themselves vid Grih, it is good to bring to the Lord the Schlizni, it is not alerted by our cap. death has come to us raptovo, - the Lord and our namіri, and our nevikonnі porivi accept with love, for Vіn and namiri and good bazhannya hearts live". So preach to us St. John Chrysostom and to his fiery word at the holy night of Easter of Christ.

Tilki can not be trouble-free every day of your earthly life. You can’t be left with lazy slaves, like you forget, or you don’t want to tell yourself about your future death, day after day you are left with your sins, with your weak faith, German hope, not firm and not true love to God. The faithful servant of God needs to churn the faith, churn the churn of love hot. It’s necessary to hurry up - life is so short - it’s possible to do more good things with your earthly life, so that you can do good things there, at eternal life, even earlier for us and there they stunned us, if with your immortal soul we pass by the way of the posthumous funeral angel we will be brought to the judgment of the Heavenly Father and the All-Righte Judgment.

І axis, who lives with the Lord, mourn his sinful fall, foretelling yourself about those who will pass from this life in the next, until we can get ready today; who invests in a treasury for good deeds day after day, wanting to do a little of their good deeds; come to the temple of God for the cleansing grace of Christ; with reverent trembling approach to the Holy Chalice; who forgive their sins to a clean life, that is, by feasible deeds in the name of Christ; who, perhaps, and kulgavimi, stumbling feet, but with such a sure path go to the Kingdom of future life, that go to his Heavenly Father blessed, that you die in the Lord.

About those who are guilty of dying in the Lord, tell us, my dear, all the holy saints, as if they passed their earthly path with glory. All the servants of God, our pious ancestors, are guessing about it, for they were able to live in God's way and died with the Lord at their hearts. It is our duty to learn to live in such a way that we die like this: even if our earthly life - it’s better to mitigate with this eternity, as if to open ourselves before the skin of us.

Vryatuvat your soul in eternal death, bring it there, celebrate the eternal Easter of Christ, de virn servant of God, virn children of your Father, glorify your Lord with one radius and may be glad to bow down to Him and not be separated from Him, but , my dear, priceless, not equal to anything, good luck!

Don't make a mess, don't make a mess, don't let the Lord see none of us, if you will help the skin on the right side of yoga!

By the grace of God and God's help, by the power and action of the Holy Spirit, that you live in a truly Orthodox soul, in the days of our earthly life, do not let us grow up in good time to enter the gates of the Kingdom of Heaven.

And all are quiet, who with faith that hope in the mercy of God pishov at eternity, let the Lord rest at His Heavenly Home!

Metropolitan Mikola Yarushevich

Journal of the Moscow Patriarchy, 1950, N10

Dedicated to Fritjof

Prologue If the river turns into a dream

Death is gostra golka,

Primushuyucha to see

I turn on the light,

Visvitlyuvav all our life.

Eva-Stina Byggmestar, Boyaguz.

Salute, Commander!

So, - having said wine, - do our trash. Chuesh, Olofe, clean up the trash.

The head was cracking, but the wine was not up to anything here. Passers-by walked, drunk on the ground, squeezing their temples with their palms.

It seemed that the supply of electricity was no longer stale with the work of power stations - in the ninth year of the ninth, it was impossible for the whole of Stockholm to turn off the light, or turn off the electrical appliances. Likewise, the plug was humming, the socket hooted menacingly with sparks, and electric discharges were worn between the contacts, preventing the attachment from plugging in.

And the magnetic field grew.

Henning's head was cracked, instead they wrapped it with a prickly dart under tension. Pulsating beat tore at the temples. Tse guessed vitonchene katuvannya.

“Shvidka” rushed past the whistles - chi after the term chime, chi just did not turn on the siren. Here in Uzbekistan there were cars with upgraded engines.

Farewell, commander!

More damn speck!

Nodding goodbye to the late prime minister, Hennig straightened at the bik Tunnelgatan behind the killer's route. The plastic handle of the wine packaging was torn off, while the car was still in the air, and now it was squeezing the box under the incense. Vlasna's head was given to you at once majestic, like a sacked sack, - navitt about every vipadok chola.

On the dotik, everything was bulo garazd, hiba scho yogo's fingers swollen in the speck of that wine.

Weather, your mother. Damn it.

Tsієї khvilini Henning is painfully thirsty for darkness. Darkness and silence. For the sake of this varto, it was drunk until you spend your remembrance.

Having risen from the gatherings, I started to take a breath. Everything became hotter to Yom - chi vins were ripped apart, chi was given as a sign of all the devils with electricity. The knock at the cloaks changed the hellish white that pierced the brain through and through.

Ni, on the right is clearly not in the new.

Henning having flattened his eyes, then let's re-flatten his eyes. Tsіkavo, why do you think it's light at the windows of the truth?

Not all good. Oh, not good.

Carefully, crocodile by crocodile, having turned over Dobelnsgatan and falling into the shade of chestnut trees of St. Johannes. There was no strength to go far. In front of the eyes, everything was clear, but at the vuhah it jiggled, mute at the crown of the trees above it, a bjoline rіy curled. Having continued the pressure of growth, invisible bream squeezed their heads, nibi raptom leaning deeply under the water. From the vіdchinenih vіkons screams rang out.

Well, from i everything. Kіnets.

Bіl buv unhuman - just think, such a small skull - і stіlki pain. More trohi, and the head of a yogo lusne, torn into a thousand pieces. The light at the windows became brighter, the shades of chestnut leaves were painted on his breasts by vigilant visers. Henning threw his guise up to the sky and died in an imminent vibe.

And everything has passed.

Nache htos smyknuv knife switch. One is all.

The head bіl sank like a hand, bjoline dzizhchannya subsided. Everything fell into place. Henning opened his mouth, trying to see a sound from himself, maybe, to inspire a prayer, but in the old strain in the new house it rang.

Hush. Temryava. A dot in the sky is falling down. Henning remembered її, if only a small curl was dipped for a millimeter in the face of yoga. Komakha?.. Under the sweating it was hard and cold, and a little bit turned his head to cool his cheek.

Marmur plate. Vіn vіdchuv schokoy nerіvіvі stone. Letters. Lifting your head, reading wine:

4.12.1918-18.7.1987

16.9.1925-16.6.2002

I gave more names. Family crypt. Carl, then, is a man, and Greta is a team, then a widow. Fifteen fates of selfishness. All clear. Henning, revealing his own little gray old woman - the axis is out of the house, spiraling on a walker, and the axis is already close and close to follow the death.

Out of the corner of my eye, I remembered that I was moving and looked at the stove. caterpillar. It was like a cigarette filter. Vaughn rang so sweetly on the black marmoor that Henning felt її shkoda, and poked his finger into the grass. But the caterpillar was left lying on the stone slab.

What else is it?

Henning was surprised and turned his finger anew. Vaughn nibi has grown in marmur. Henning delivered from the intestines with a lighter, lightened. The caterpillar shifted in his eyes. Henning almost buried his nose in the stove, lit his hair with the fire of the igniter. No, the caterpillar didn’t change, it turned around at the stone, and now only a small tail has been left on the surface.

But no, you can't buti...

About marvelous speeches, ale zovsim stupidly.
The more the works of Scandinavian authors get into my hands, the more often the stench puts me in a deaf hut. So it is obvious that the Scandinavians bring suffering to the greatest literary cult, moreover, suffering is itself moral. Some of the characters did not sound, all the stench only and shy, that they drink in their torments. They do not try to fight with them, as it is customary to describe in the literature, to give the butt of strong-willed men and women, but invariably get bogged down in the worst day of sorrow and mental anguish. And everything is forged by the nastiest kvіt znevіry, so that you don’t get enough of the least enlightenment for a bright prominence.
If you are specifically talking about the book "Blessed are the Dead", then I did my best not to understand. Love and appreciate loved ones, while the stench is in order? It’s hard to make love last for dear ones, if people for joy have spared their resurrected relatives. The one to whom to build the light of the corpses, what did they say? What morality do I create in what is necessary for the people to inspire by appointment until the resurrection dead? Is it necessary to overcome fear and guard (what do I care about the whole natural reaction of a mentally healthy person) and to help the ruined ghouls to destroy the living? M-yes, Lindkvist put a perfect zoom in front of the readers. Prote, that the author really showed something new and hostile, such that there was no stained glass for an hour? For me, the evidence is unambiguous - NOTHING.
I remember that the book of Annabelle Pitcher struck me as a strong hostility, it has a miraculously revealed theme, how important it is to let your dead relatives in at the hour. Axis there is true insight and understanding, now the author is destroying such an important topic. And "Blessed are the Dead" - all a chaotic tvir with a miraculous idea, ale ogidny at the vikonnі.
Shaleno, to the teeth gnashing, the religious-fanatical grandmother was arguing about the order of souls. That woman herself, with ease and without regret, pushed the resurrected man into the hands of the authorities, and then she showed herself defeated! Just outrageous ambivalence and arrogance. It’s obvious, it’s easier to turn around among the living, lower try to understand and help the ruined merts.