Woe to him who strives with his Maker--a potsherd among the potsherds of the earth! Shall the clay ask him who fashions it, *What are you making?* or your work, *He has no hands?*
When we had all fallen to the earth, I heard a voice saying to me in the Hebrew language, 'Sha'ul, Sha'ul, why are you persecuting me? It is hard for you to kick against the goads.'
But Yeshurun grew fat, and kicked. You have grown fat. You have grown thick. You have become sleek. Then he forsook God who made him, and lightly esteemed the Rock of his salvation.
Not that I have already obtained, or am already made perfect; but I press on, if it is so that I may take hold of that for which also I was taken hold of by Messiah Yeshua.