The Lord of wine and Canaanite whores,
Born from Rahab, Tamar, and Ruth,
Has ceased from His bronze-age holy wars
To offer eternal life and truth.

He’s unimpressed with Judah’s sin,
Talmudic blasphemies and lies;
The other tribes come streaming in
While Roman troops revive and rise.

We sense a second flood is due
To rinse the earth of humankind
And punishing sin, make all things new . . .
Thus Daniel, Job and John divined.

God’s current spokesmouths miss the mark.
Dark clouds are gathering. It looks
Like doors are closing on the Ark;
In vain they seek His face in books.

We take our cues from Pharisees—
Assured we are not Canaanites,
Engrossed in genealogies
While tyrants take away our rights.

But Christ Himself was not ashamed
To have a harlot in His line.
And so the Jews must not be blamed
For willful blindness to His sign.

It’s time for you to to get up to speed,
Take up and read, like Augustine . . .
Discern the messianic seed
And family lines, and in between.



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