|Lera, the Duchess|
Jesus speaks in metaphors. The disciples hear nonsensical prose.
"Beware of the yeast," he says.
"OMG, we are out of bread!" they cry.
As if Jesus didn't just take care of the bread problem on the hill.
How many times do we need assurance that we are loved
that we are cared for
Seventy times seventy, I say.
Thunder on all you want about faithlessness
Complain, O Lord, these people have no eyes nor ears!
May I remind you that you are the one who made us
And anyway, you speak in metaphors again
Do you not remember how small it is to be human?
How many times must you reassure?
Seventy times seventy
How long must you endure this faithless generation?
Well, you are the one who made the generations
And you are the one taking your sweet time
you give me my daily bread
and my tummy is full
but my spirit is empty
where are you then, O Lord?
Am I supposed to fill my spirit with bread?
Oh, trust me, I have tried to eat my way to fullness!
The tummy is full but the spirit is empty
Where are you now?
and because you like metaphors and special effects
and audio/visuals, here's a song for you.
Seventy times seventy, Lord
To be human is to be small
and to long for what one can never quite grasp.
So yes, you will have to say it again.
Seventy times seventy.