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Our Lord and God, when Shiloh fell,
Your mercy on Your people
was buried deep, hidden,
in the rubble of disaster.
When the ark of the covenant was plunder,
Your invisible hand held it firm.
When the covenant came back to Israel,
Your hand was still there,
and Uzzah’s hand was impudence.
The silent tabernacle fell
and in that covenant catastrophe
the wine of Your goodness
was aging in casks.
Wait in faith for the fatted calf,
Await the now repentant son,
Tune up the instruments
As David’s tent fills up with song.
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