Go, cry out this message for Jerusalem to hear! I remember the devotion of your youth, how you loved me as a bride, Following me in the wilderness, in a land unsown.
They say to a piece of wood, “You are my father,” and to a stone, “You gave me birth.” They turn their backs to me, not their faces; yet in their time of trouble they cry out, “Rise up and save us!”
I thought: How I would like to make you my children! So I gave you a pleasant land, the most beautiful heritage among the nations! You would call me, “My Father,” I thought, and you would never turn away from me.
With weeping they shall come, but with compassion I will guide them; I will lead them to streams of water, on a level road, without stumbling. For I am a father to Israel, Ephraim is my firstborn.
I will punish her for the days of the Baals, for whom she burnt incense, When she decked herself out with her rings and her jewelry, and went after her lovers— but me she forgot—oracle of the Lord.
A son honors his father, and a servant fears his master; If, then, I am a father, where is the honor due to me? And if I am a master, where is the fear due to me? So says the Lord of hosts to you, O priests, who disdain my name. But you ask, “How have we disdained your name?”
And you say, “Why?”— Because the Lord is witness between you and the wife of your youth With whom you have broken faith, though she is your companion, your covenanted wife.