A restaurant.
“I’d like the Valseschotel.”
“Certainly sir.”
A short wait. Drinks. Conversation.
The food arrives.
“Excuse me, I ordered the Valseschotel”
“Of course, sir. This is the Valseschotel.”
“It doesn’t look like Valseschotel to me.”
“It’s the way we always make it, sir. Have you had it here before?”
“No, but a friend told me I would love it. That can’t be it.”
“But, sir… This is the dish.”
“It doesn’t look like it. Are you sure the chef didn’t make a mistake?”
“It’s our signature dish, sir. There’s no mistake. See, your wife ordered the same.”
“Hers looks different. Hers looks like it has chicken. I only like chicken.”
“I’m afraid there’s no chicken in either serving, sir. It’s a beef dish.”
“No.”
“I’m sorry, sir?”
“No, I only like chicken. My friend said I’d like the dish. This can’t be it.”
“And you’ve never eaten Valseschotel before, sir?”
“No, what difference does that make? This *isn’t* it.”
“I’m afraid it is, sir.”
“NO. LET ME SPEAK TO THE OWNER.”
Fin.
.
.
.
So…
Why do we try and order our God that way?