In France during the time of King Louis, there was a poor juggler who was a Compiègne. His name is Banabe. He traveled all over the big cities and performed juggling that required strength and skill.
On the day of the market, he laid out an old tattered blanket in the clearing of the square, and with the jokes he had learned from a very old and very old juggler, which he had never changed word for word, after attracting children and idlers watching the bustle, he made some unnatural gestures, and held a tin basin with the tip of his nose steadily. The onlookers at first looked at him coldly.
But when he was head down, his hands were supporting his body, and he used his two feet to throw six copper balls that were shining brightly in the sun, or bent his body backwards, until the back of his head touched the heel, and the whole person bent into a complete wheel shape, playing with twelve knives while maintaining this posture, a buzz of appreciation rose from the audience, and the coins were thrown onto the blanket.
However, like most people who make a living selling art, The Life of Banabe in Compiègne is very difficult.
He earned bread from the sweat of his forehead, and suffered far more than he deserved because of the transgressions of our ancestor Adam.
Moreover, he could not work as hard as he hoped. Just as a tree needs warm sun and bright daylight in order to show his superb skill. In winter, he was nothing more than a half-dead tree with its fallen leaves. Frozen land is harsh on jugglers. Like the cicada of Marie de France, he suffered from hunger and cold during the ill-weather season. But he was simple in heart and patiently endured his misfortune.
He never considered the origin of wealth, nor did he consider the inequality of the human condition. He was steadfast in his belief that if the world was bad, the other world could not be bad, and that hope supported him. He does not learn from the thieves and non-religious artists who sell their souls to the devil, and he never speaks blasphemous words against God. He lived a dignified life, and although he had no wife, he did not covet the wife of his neighbor, because as the story of Sansson recorded in the Bible proves, women are the enemies of strong men.
Truth be told, he didn't have that carnal nature, and it was much harder for him to give up his glass than for him to give up his woman, because when it was hot, he also liked to drink a few drinks in moderation. He was a noble man who feared God and believed in the Virgin Mary with great devotion.
Every time he walked into the church, he never forgot to kneel before the statue of the Virgin Mary and pray to her:
"Our Lady, please care for my whole life until the day God is willing to let me die; When I die, please let me have the joy of heaven. ”
One night, after a full day of rain, he was hunched over with copper balls and knives wrapped in old blankets, and walked in a melancholy mood, trying to find a barn where he could at least sleep if he couldn't eat dinner. He saw a monk on the main road walking the same path as him, so he respectfully performed a salute to the monk. Because they were at the same pace, they began to talk.
"Friend," said the monk, "why are you wearing a green dress?" Could it be that in which mystery drama did he play the role of the Joker?"
"No, my priest," Banabe replied. "My name is Barnabé when you see this, and I'm a juggler in my profession. If you can earn food by juggling every day, it is arguably the best industry in the world. "
"Barnabé Mingyou," said the monk, "beware of what you say. There is nothing better than the practice of monasticism. The monastics praise God, the Virgin and the saints, and the monastic life is an eternal song of praise to God.
Banabe Q&A:
"My priest, I confess that I speak like a foolish and ignorant man. Your profession should not be compared to mine: although dancing with a copper child resting smoothly on a stick on the tip of your nose is also valuable, this value is very different from yours. I wish I could be like you, my priest, who sang Mass every day, especially during The Virgin's Mass, and I have a special devotion to our Mother. I was happy to give up the skills that made me famous in more than six hundred cities and villages, from Suissons to Beauvais, and to live a monastic life. ”
The monk was touched by the simplicity of the juggler's heart; He was not a man of judgment, so it was immediately clear that Banabé was the kind of person who, of whom God had said, "Let peace and tranquility be with them in the world." So he replied:
"Friends of Banabe, come with me, and I will let you into the monastery where I am abbot." The one who once led the Egyptian woman Mary to the desert has placed me on your way to lead you on the path of soul salvation.
In this way, Banabe became a monk. In the monastery where he was taken in, the monks competed with each other to show their reverence to the Virgin, and each used all the knowledge and skills that God had given them to serve her. The abbot himself wrote several books on the virtues of the Virgin, in accordance with the principles of scholastic philosophy. The Morris brothers copied the papers on refined calf paper with a dexterous hand. The Alexander brothers painted exquisite miniature drawings on these calves. The painting shows four lions guarding the kingdom of heaven sitting on Solomon's throne, and seven doves flying around her wheel of light head, which are the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit: reverence, teaching love, wisdom, fortitude, transcendence, enlightenment, and wisdom. She was accompanied by six blonde virgins who were humble, wise, withdrawn, reverent, virgin, and obedient. At her feet were two naked, snow-white little men, making pleading gestures. It was two souls begging for her mighty intercession for their salvation, and it was certain that begging was by no means futile. On another page, the Alexander brothers, as a contrast to Mary, paint Eve, so that one can see both sin and atonement, the disgraced wife and the virgin who is exalted. In this book one does not appreciate the wells of living water, the clear springs, the lilies, the moon, the sun and the closed garden, the gates of heaven and the city of God, all of which are symbols of the Virgin Mary.
The Malbod brothers were also one of Mary's most gracious children.
He kept carving stone statues, his beard, eyebrows and hair stained with stone powder, turning white, and his eyes were often swollen and tearful. But although he is old, he is full of strength and happiness; It was clear that heaven was protecting her elderly child after the kingdom. Malbod carved her into a statue sitting on a chair with a halo of pearls around her head. He was careful to let the pleats of her skirt cover her feet, and the Prophet said of her, "My good wife is like a closed garden."
Sometimes he also carved her into the appearance of a very lovely child, as if to say, "Lord, you are my Lord!-- you are my God who gave birth to me from my mother." (Psalm 21, v. 11.) )
There were also poets in the monastery, who wrote many continuations and hymns in Latin in praise of the Virgin Mary. There was even a Picardian who wrote the miracles of the Virgin mary into rhymes in plain language.
Barnabé was deeply saddened by his ignorance and simplicity in seeing such a race in praise of the Virgin Mary, and having achieved such fruitful results of his labor.
"Alas!" He walked alone in the small garden of the monastery without a little shadow, sighed and said, "He gave my heart completely to the Virgin, but I feel very unfortunate that I cannot praise her as naturally as my brothers did." alas! alas! I am a rough man with no expertise, O Virgin, and I have no preaching that can be moved, no paragraphs according to the rules, no exquisite paintings, no very precisely carved stone statues, and no poems that calculate the musical steps and pay attention to rhyme, which can be used to serve you. I had nothing, alas!"
He sighed like this, deeply in sorrow. One evening, the monks were chatting for a pastime, and one of them told the story of a monk who could not recite anything but the Virgin Mary. The monk was despised for his ignorance, but when he died, five roses grew from his mouth to pay homage to the five letters that made up Mary's name, and his holiness was thus revealed
Hearing this story, Banabé once again praises the kindness of the Virgin Mary; But this example of a happy death did not bring him comfort, for his heart was filled with devotion, hoping that he would do his part to add to the glory of the Virgin of Heaven.
He thought left and right, but he could not come up with a way, and he felt sad day by day. But one morning he woke up elated and ran into the church, where he stayed alone for more than an hour. Had dinner. Then he went again.
From this time on, he went to the church every day when it was empty, and spent much of the time other monks spent on free art and handicraft art. He was no longer sad, no more sighing.
Such a bizarre act aroused the curiosity of the monks.
They asked each other why the Banabe brothers were so often and constantly meditating alone.
It was the abbot's duty to understand the behavior of his monks, and he decided to observe what Banabe was doing when he was alone. One day, Banabé locked himself in the church as usual, and the abbot, accompanied by two elderly monks in the monastery, observed what was happening inside through the crack in the door.
They saw Banabe in front of the altar of the Virgin Mary, head to the ground and feet to the sky, playing with six copper balls and twelve knives. To pay homage to our Lady, he was playing the vaudeville that had ever won him the warmest admiration. The two older monks did not understand that this simple-minded man was using his talents and abilities to serve the Virgin Mary, shouting that it was blasphemy.
The Dean knew that Banabe was pure in heart, but he thought ThatAbe was insane. The three of them were about to drag him out of the church when they suddenly saw the Virgin Mary walk down the altar steps and use the hem of her blue cloak to wipe the beads of sweat on her forehead for her juggler.
So the abbot crawled down with his face toward the slate floor and said, "Blessed are those who have a simple heart, for they will see God!" Amen!" Two elderly monks kissed the ground in reply.