“Paul and the Levitical Pickle”

A scribe sat down with ink and scroll,
Intent to grasp the Gospel whole.
He’d read of grace and Spirit’s flame
Then Paul arrived and changed the game.

“Now hold,” said Paul, “the Law was good,
But Christ fulfilled it as He should.
No need for goats or temple rites
Just faith and love and sleepless nights.”

“But wait,” the scribe said, scratching head,
“You quote Leviticus with dread!
You say that sin still stains the soul
Yet circumcision’s not the goal?”

Paul winked and said, “It is not magic:
The Law was holy, but also tragic.
It showed our need, it drew the line
But now we walk by love divine.”

“Still,” said the scribe, “you list what’s vile
And some of it feels out of style.
Jesus never said a word
On half the sins that you inferred.”

Paul sighed, “He spoke of hearts and grace,
Of mercy’s touch and love’s embrace.
But truth and love must walk as one
Not every party ends in fun.”

The scribe then groaned, “I need a drink.
This Gospel’s deeper than I think.”
Paul smiled, “It’s not a legal stew
It’s Christ in me, and Christ in you.”

“The Scribe’s Rebuttal: Grace with a Side of Grit”

I’ve copied scrolls from dusk till dawn,
From Sinai’s blaze to Christ now gone.
I’ve inked the Law, the Psalms, the Creed
And now comes Paul with lightning speed.

He speaks of grace, then lists my flaws,
He quotes the Law, then breaks its claws.
He says I’m free, then warns of sin
I’m dizzy, Paul, where to begin?

“You’re saved by faith!” he shouts with cheer,
“But check your morals Paul is near!”
He loves the Gentiles, hates their vice,
Then tells me not to judge them twice.

He circumcised young Tim, no less,
Then told the Galatians, “Don’t obsess!”
He fasts, he feasts, he weeps, he roars
He’s got more footnotes than the Torah’s laws.

I asked him once, “What must I do?”
He said, “Be dead, then live anew.”
I said, “Define that, if you can.”
He grinned, “In Christ, not under man.”

So here I sit, my quill now dry,
My scrolls in knots, my brain awry.
I’ll trust in grace, I’ll love, I’ll pray
But Paul? He knows just what to say.

“An Angel Watches the Scroll Show”

High above the parchment fray,
An angel watched the scroll ballet.
With wings unfurled and brow askew,
He sipped some light and muttered, “Whew…”

Paul was juggling grapes and text,
The scribe looked spiritually perplexed.
Leviticus lay in a heap,
While Romans made the cherub weep.

“Grace!” cried Paul, “It’s all you need!”
The scribe replied, “But what’s the creed?”
They danced through doctrines, law, and love
While heaven chuckled up above.

The angel sighed, “They both are right
One brings the fire, one brings the light.
But oh, the footnotes! Endless scrolls!
They’ll need a glossary for souls.”

He flapped his wings and took a note:
“Next time, fewer scrolls to quote.
Just love, forgive, and walk in grace
And maybe less debate on ‘place.’”

“The Levitical Goat’s Lament”

I once was prized, a sacred beast,
For sin and guilt, I’d host a feast.
They’d lay their hands, confess their wrongs,
Then send me off with priestly songs.

But now I’m told I’m obsolete,
No altar calls, no hooves to beat.
Paul says grace has changed the game
And I’m just livestock with a name.

I watched him preach with scrolls and flair,
While scribes collapsed in ink despair.
He juggled notes and quoted Christ
And left my Law quite sacrificed.

I miss the days of solemn bleat,
Of temple courts and holy heat.
Now Gentiles dine on pork and wine
And I just chew my olive vine.

So here I stand, a goat unclaimed,
My Levitical fame defamed.
But still I hope, in some odd way,
They’ll need scape goat anyway.

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