In a terrible sunglow the farmers’ distress call resounds: How long oh God will man still be tried, yes with the locust plague that lingers permanently in our midst. Yes we pray for blessing and a little bit of rain, but You send drought or the flood while the injustice is raging in our midst.   In a pitch-black night, like soot, the last remnants of a volk is standing with the beggar’s hat in their hands while they call: Oh God look, our last courage is laying broken in thousands of shards and Raca is victoriously drinking our martyr-blood. So, for how long must the innocent still suffer together with the guilty?

In a sun eruption with radioactive beams speeding towards earth, terrified Jacob is now calling: God has hit me again and my other hip has also said goodbye now and therefore I lay, felled and without any courage. Yes, Israel weeps and says: I do not want to oppose or trump You any longer, so please Oh my God will You stay with me in Your big Mercy, Peace and in sympathy. In vibrating heatwaves raging across the plains, farmers and consumers together are now calling to heaven for help, while one after the other cataclysm is raging. Look, the moon is now shining deep-red like fresh human blood and a straight line of stars changes into a horseshoe. So, on God’s Great day, who is going to flee to the mountains and who is just going to stay, powerless.