This rabbi spoke with shrew command but hardly wrote a line.
He taught on hills, near streams, on sand with words of great design.
He asked, What profit can you gain to worship selfish goals? What way of life can people claim who march with steely souls?
He rubbed his spit on man’s blind sight and said to wash them free. The man rejoiced as night turned bright; the others would not see.
Kyrie eleison, miserere nobis. Kyrie eleison, miserere nobis.
He makes them see themselves. He makes us see ourselves He frees us from our hell, He’s our Emmanuel.
Arrested by a mobs death wish, accused by men in the dark, He had the court of a hooked fish thrown into a sea of sharks.
Some ponder now that ancient site, long after icons dull They raised him up, those men of might, to die upon a skull.
Messiahs words, alive today, speak out from hearts and shelves. The crime his judges had to slay? He made them see themselves.
He makes them see themselves. He makes us see ourselves. He breaks deaths ancient hell. He’s our Emmanuel