A Sermon On Sunday Evening, Delivered By C. H. Spurgeon, At The Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington. *10/24/2011
Thus says the Lord, “The heaven is my throne, and the earth is my
footstool where is the house that you build for me? and where is the
place of my rest? For my hand has made all those things, and all
those things have been,” says the Lord; “but I will esteem this man,
even him who is poor and of a contrite spirit and trembles at my
word.” (Isa 66:1,2)
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1. That is an excellent answer which was given by a poor man to a sceptic who attempted to ridicule his faith. The scoffer said, “Sir, is your God a great God or a little God?” The poor man replied, “Sir, my God is so great that the heaven of heavens cannot contain him and yet he condescends to be so little, that he dwells in broken and contrite hearts.” Oh, the greatness of God, and the condescension of God! I hope we shall be led to think of both this evening, while we meditate upon the words of the text.
2. We have no time nor need of a preface. The text first of all teaches us that God rejects all material temples as the places of his abode; but, secondly, it informs us that God has made a choice of spiritual temples, in which he will dwell; and thirdly, it tells us of the great blessing these receive.
3. I. First of all, then, let us think a little of GOD’S REJECTION OF ALL MATERIAL TEMPLES.
4. There was a time, when it could be said that there was a house of God on earth. That was a time of symbols, when as yet the Church of God was in her childhood. She was being taught her A B C’s, reading her picture book, for she could not as yet read the word of God, as it were, in letters. She had need to have pictures put before her, patterns of the heavenly things. Then, even then, the enlightened among the Jews knew very well that God did not reside between curtains, and that it was not possible that he could be enclosed in the most holy place within the veil. It was only a symbol of his presence. The fiery cloudy pillar was merely an indication that he was there, in that Tabernacle where he was pleased to say that he particularly revealed himself. But the time of symbols is now passed altogether. In that moment when the Saviour bowed his head, and said, “It is finished!” the veil of the temple was torn in two, so that the mysteries were laid open. I might consider the veil of the temple to be the most august of types, but the dying hands of the Saviour grasped that veil, and tore it in two from top to bottom; and then the secrets within, which were all the more secret because they were symbols, were exposed to the gazer’s eye, and no longer did God condescend to have a place on earth that should be called his house, nor any symbols of his presence whatever among the sons of men; and now it is sheer legality, a defunct ceremony, Judaism, carnality, and idolatry, to go around and say of this place, “This is the house of God,” or of such a chapel, or such a stone edifice, “This is the altar of God,” or of any man who chooses to put on certain robes and ribbons, “This is a man of God,” a priest of the Most High! This is all done away with, and put away for ever. Now, since the church has attained her maturity, she lays aside these childish things. Those orders of divine service which were symbols and nothing more, having served their purpose, are abolished and superseded, and God pours contempt upon the superstitious veneration of their relics. By the mouth of his servant Paul, in the Hebrews, he asks us not to look to the shadows but to the substances, not to the symbols but to the great realities. So, brethren, one reason why God says he does not dwell in temples made with hands, is, because he would have us know that the symbolic worship is ended and the reign of the spiritual worship is inaugurated at this day. It is just as our Lord said to the Samaritan woman at the well, “The hour comes, when you shall neither in this mountain, nor even at Jerusalem, worship the Father. But the hour comes, and now is, when the true worshippers shall worship the Father in spirit and in truth: for the Father seeks such to worship him.”
5. But our text gives, from God’s own mouth, reasons why there can be no house at the present time in which God can dwell; and, indeed, there never was any house of the kind in reality — only in symbol. For, tell us now, where is the place to build God a house? Look around, you ambitious architects who would erect for God a house! Where will you place it? Will you place it in heaven? It is only his throne, not his house! Even all the majesty of heaven is only the seat on which he sits. Where will you place the house then? On his seat? Build a temple on his throne! It cannot be. Do you say you will erect it here, on earth? What, on his footstool? This whole globe is only his footstool! Will you put it where he shall put his foot upon it and crush it? A house for God upon his footstool! The very notion contradicts itself, and men may for ever forego the idea of building a house where God shall dwell, or a place where he shall rest. Fly through infinite space, and you shall not find in any place that God is not there. Time cannot contain him, although it ranges along its millenniums! Space cannot hold him, for he who made all things is greater than all the things that he has made! Yes, all the things that are, do not enclose him. He is without bound or measure, beyond all that he has already made; although the astronomers tell us that so grand is the scale of the visible universe, the scenes opened up by the telescope suffice to baffle the imagination, and overwhelm the reason. All that God has made, is only the drop in a bucket compared with what he could make. Though it might take us endless ages to enumerate the worlds he has created, one single breathing from his lips could create ten thousand times as many, for he is the infinite God. Who then shall imagine, that in heaven, which is his throne, or on earth, which is his footstool, a house shall be built for him?
6. But then, the Lord seems to put it, — “What kind of a house (supposing we had a site on which to erect it) would we build for God?” Sons of men, of what material would you make a dwelling place for the Eternal and the Pure? Would you build with alabaster? The heavens are not clean in his sight, and he charged his angels with folly! Would you build with gold? Behold, the streets of his metropolitan city are paved with it, not indeed the dusky gold of earth, but transparent gold, like clear glass. And what is gold to Deity? Men may crave it and adore it, but what does he care for it? Whereas that city, where the church shall dwell for ever, has foundations of chrysolite and sapphire and jasper and all manner of precious stones, will you think to rival that? Ah, your wealth can never equal such costliness, even though all the royal treasuries were at your disposal. Find diamonds as massive as the stones of which Solomon built his house on Zion, and then lay on rubies and jaspers, — pile up a house, all of which shall be most precious. What would that be to him? God is a Spirit. He disdains your materialism. How can you enclose the infinite mind within your walls, for they are tangible substances at the very best. And yet men think, truly, when they have put up their Gothic or their Grecian structures, “This is God’s house.” Take me to imperial Russia, and point me to the lowliest hovel of the lowliest serf; tell me it is the imperial palace — I might believe it to be possible; but take me to the most gorgeous building that human skill has ever constructed, and tell me that is God’s house! — Impossible! I hold up a snail’s shell, and say, “This is as much the angel Gabriel’s house as that is the house of the living God.” They do not know what they are saying. They are brainless, or they would not think so of him who fills all things!
And then the Lord shows that the earth and the heavens themselves,
which may be compared to a temple, are the works of his hand. How
often I have felt as if I were surrounded with the solemn grandeur of
a temple, in the midst of the pine forest, or on the heathery hill,
or out at night with the bright stars looking down through the deep
heavens, or listening to the thunder, peal after peal, or gazing at
the lightning as it lit up the sky! Then one feels as if he were in
the temple of God! Far out on the blue sea, where the ship is rocking
up and down on the waves’ foam — then it seems as if you were somewhere
near to God, — amidst the sublimities of nature. But what then? He has
made all these objects of nature and they are not a house for him. He
spoke, and they were created. “Earth be,” he said, and up sprang the
round globe in all her comeliness. He only had to say it, and she was
decked in her green mantle. He only had to speak it, and the sun and
moon shone in all their glories. Who then shall think of building a
house for God, when even the heavens are only his throne and the
earth is only his footstool? The notion, brethren, that there are
some places particularly sacred will, however, cling to people’s
minds; even those who call themselves Christians are prone to it; yet
it is a most wicked notion, I truly believe, and full of mischief. I
am sometimes up on the Alps amidst the glories of nature, with the
glacier and snow clad peak; I am in the open, and I breathe the fresh
air that comes from the ancient hills, but you tell me that there I
am on “unholy ground!” There stands near by a little place painted in
all gaudy colours, in honour of a woman — blessed among women — it is
true. I step inside, look around, and behold, the place is full of
dolls and toys! Am I to be told that this is God’s house inside and
that outside of it — it is not God’s house? It seems monstrous! How can
any rational man believe it? Look into a little shell, full of “holy
water.” Go outside, — and see the foaming waters sparkling in the
cascade or coming down from the clouds, and they say “There is no
holiness in that!” It is a wicked notion — wicked, I say — to think that
your four walls make that place holy, and your incantations, and I do
not know what else, consecrate it. But, where God is, outside there,
with the storm and the thunder, the rain and wind, it is not holy.
Oh, sirs, I think the outside is the holier of the two! For my part,
I can worship best there, and love God, and think of him as being
nearer to him there, than I can when inside. The superstitious notion
which makes people think that if they go at particular times to these
places, and go through certain actions, they have done service for
God, leads them to forget, if not altogether to disclaim, God at
ordinary times, and in common circumstances. Their God is a local
God, and his worship is local. So we see men, when they have gone
through the ritual, go back to revel in their vanities, and to repeat
their sins. They do not care about a change of heart: they were
regenerated in baptism. To be taught the way of God more
perfectly — what does that matter? Were they not confirmed? To live
upon Christ and feed upon his flesh and blood in spirit and in
truth — that is nothing. They have had the bread and wine at the
Communion: will that not suffice? The whole thing generates
formalism, and eats out the soul of true piety. However, the
religion of Jesus teaches me that I am always to worship; that family
prayer is as good and as much accepted as the prayer in the great
congregation; that I may pray in private; that every hour, and not
merely at some canonical hour, I ought to pray; that
Wherever I seek him he is found,
And every place is hallowed ground;
that the Lord will bless and accept me, and press me to his heart as his own dear child, wherever I am; for in my Father’s house are many mansions, and God’s grace is not here or there, but everywhere that the true heart seeks it. I want you all to feel this, because somehow or other, the Church does not appear to have learned it. God was with the Covenanters amidst their glens, as gloriously as he ever revealed himself in cathedrals. God has been as earnestly sought, and as truly found in humble cottages where two or three have met to pray, as he ever has been in the largest tabernacle. The sailor’s service read on the sea has been as acceptable to God as worship on land; and the gatherings of humble Romans in the Catacombs, or of the hunted fathers in the secluded dells of our counties were as much the gatherings of the true Church of God as any well appointed assemblies can be in these peaceable times. Thus says the Lord, “Heaven is my throne, and earth is my footstool. Where is the house that you build for me? and where is the place of my rest?” Let us shake ourselves free of all the idolatry and materialism that is so common in the age.
8. II. Now, secondly, let us muse for awhile upon GOD’S CHOICE OF SPIRITUAL TEMPLES. “To this man I will look, even to him who is poor and of a contrite spirit, and trembles at my word.”
9. Observe, beloved, that God chooses to dwell in men’s hearts. He is a Spirit, and he takes our spirits to be the resting place of his Spirit. Will you notice carefully, with respect to the choice of hearts in which God would dwell, what is not said. It is not said, “I will dwell with men who are of high rank.” I never find a single Scripture that gives any special privileges to dignity, nobility, or royalty — no, not a syllable throughout all Scripture that gives any particular gospel promise to the great and the rich of this world. Indeed, “not many great men after the flesh, not many mighty are chosen.” Nor do I read here anything about a particular office. It is not said, “To that man I will look, who is ordained and set apart, and made specially to be a vessel of grace.” No, nothing of the kind — nothing about monks, or priests, or clergy, or ministers — no special class set apart for the reception of the blessing. Far otherwise. Neither do I notice any singular genius necessary. It is not said, “With that man of poetic mind I will dwell,” or, “with that person of refined spirit,” or, “with the man who has an eye for the beauties of colour,” or, “an ear for the harmonies of sound,” — not a word of it. Some men think that genius makes men good, and all who happen to excel are thought to be the excellent of the earth. With God it is not so, and it is not said so here. Neither is it written that God will dwell with people of any special education. It is well to be educated, but a knowledge of Latin and Greek, and Hebrew and Syriac, will not inscribe our names in the Book of Life. A man may be most illiterate, and yet come under the description given here, for there is not a syllable about the learned and highly educated being the temples of God. Neither is there a syllable here said about outward religiousness. It does not say, “I will dwell with that man who attends a place of worship twice on a Sunday, joins the church, is baptized, and receives the Lord’s Supper.” Nothing of the kind. The spiritual temple is not described like that.
10. And then, I need you to notice next, that the points which are selected as descriptive of God’s temple are just such as are frequently despised. “Oh,” the world says, “who wants to be poor?” “Poor in spirit,” we reply. “Ah,” the world says, “we do not want any of your poor spirited creatures: we like a man full of courage and confidence — your self-made, self-reliant men. Poor in spirit, indeed! And,” the world says, “we find the contrite very dull company. Broken hearted people are not the kind we love to associate with.” Oh, no; what in their account can be the value of contrition? And as for trembling at God’s word, why you know it was because the Society of Friends were accustomed to speak much of this, and say that they trembled at God’s words, that they called them Quakers, hence turning their good confession into a term of derision and reproach. And nowadays, if a man is very reverent towards the word of God, and very desirous to obey the Lord’s commands in everything, people say, “He is very precise,” and they shun him; or, with still more acrimony, they say, “He is very bigoted: he is not a man of liberal spirit”; and so they cast out his name as evil. Bigotry, in modern speech, you know, means giving heed to old truths in preference to novel theories; and a liberal spirit, nowadays, means being liberal with everything except your own money — liberal with God’s law, liberal with God’s doctrine, liberal to believe that a lie is a truth, that black is white, and that white may occasionally be black. That is liberal sentiment in religion — the broad church school — from which may God continually deliver us; for there is something true in the world after all, and we shall become corrupt in the heart and rotten to the core if we do not think there is.
11. Only God is pleased to say that the man who trembles at his word, the man of a broken heart, the man who is poor in spirit, is such a one as he will esteem; these are his temples, — these, and these only, are the men in whom he will dwell. And I am so thankful for this, beloved friends, because this is the very state, through God’s grace, which is attainable by all here whom the Lord shall call. Oh, if the Lord said he dwelt in the hearts of the great, there would not be much hope for some of us; or if he said he dwelt with the refined and well instructed, we might never have received a visit from him; but if it is with the poor, it is good for us, since you see it is easier to grow poor than rich, and God by his grace can soon make us poor in spirit. If he dwells with the contrite, why should I not be among the contrite? And if he dwells with those who tremble at his word, — well, that is not a very high degree of grace, — surely through his love I may attain to that, and God may come and dwell with me, and make me to rejoice in his company. For, beloved, these evidences which are mentioned here, are such as belong to the very least of the saints. If the Lord had said he dwelt with those who had full assurance, it would exclude many of us. If the Lord said he dwelt with those who had attained to the higher life, and walked habitually with him, that might also exclude us. But, oh, how condescendingly he has put it — with the poor, the contrite, and those who tremble at his word. Here is God’s architecture, here is his cathedral, here are his tabernacles in which he dwells — the poor, the contrite, and the trembling heart. Let us thank God that these three characteristics are what they are. It is consoling to our spirits that they do not deprive us of hope. Notice these three characteristics one by one.
12. God will esteem the poor, that is, those who are destitute of all merit, who have no good works, who have spent the last rusty farthing of their boasted merit, who have nothing to rely upon of their own. Dear brother, are you completely emptied of everything you could rely upon? You are the man with whom God wishes to dwell. Devoid of all strength, as well as of all merit, do you feel, “I cannot do what I ought to do in the future any more than I did in the past.” Do you feel that even your repentance must be God’s gift, and faith must come from him; that you lie like a dead man at his feet; and, if saved, salvation must be all of grace from first to last? Oh, dear brother, give me your hand, for you are one of those in whose hearts God will dwell. And are you emptied of all wisdom, now? Once you thought that you knew everything, but now you are willing to sit in the lowest grade in God’s school, to be taught as a little child everything by the great Master. Oh, what a mercy it is to be made to feel one’s self a fool, an utter fool, weak, feeble, dead, hopeless, helpless, and lost! Oh, if the Lord has brought you there, dear friends, sorrowful as your condition may seem to yourself, it is full of the brightest hope, for God has said he will esteem him who is poor. Now, why does God come to the poor? Why, because there is room for him there. Other hearts are full, these hearts are empty, and God comes in. God will never come to a heart that is full of self-righteousness; or, if he comes, it will be to empty that heart, and make it poor in spirit. But when he once has made the heart empty and waste and desolate, then he comes and makes the wilderness to rejoice, and the desert to blossom as a rose. I trust that some of you who are poor in spirit, are picking up crumbs of comfort from this precious text.
The next word is, “the contrite” — “of a contrite spirit,” that is, the
man who feels his sin and hates it, who mourns that he should have
rebelled against God, and desires to find mercy. Now, God will come
to such, because there is purity in that heart. “Oh,” says the
contrite spirit, “I do not see any purity in my heart.” No, but what
do you see, then? “Oh, I see all manner of sin and evil, and I hate
myself because it is so.” There is purity in that hatred; at any rate
there is something that God loves in that hatred in your soul, of the
sin that is within, and he will come to you, for there is something
there that is related to his own holiness: he has put it there. You
have begun to appeal for mercy. Oh, then, God’s mercy will come, for
mercy delights to visit misery. Mercy is always at home where there
is a sinner confessing sin.
Mercy is welcome news indeed
To those that guilty stand;
Wretches, that feel what help they need,
Will bless the helping hand.
We all have sinn’d against our God,
Exception none can boast;
But he that feels the heaviest load
Will prize forgiveness most.
Besides, I know what will happen to you if you have a broken spirit: you will value the company of Jesus. No one loves Christ so well as those who hate themselves for their sin. He who strips himself of all pretensions of his own will, admires much, and longs most passionately for, the robe of righteousness which Christ provides. Beloved, because Christ is in you as a contrite soul, and you prize him, — this is one reason why God will come and dwell in you, for he wants no better company than Christ his Son. Besides, your contrition of heart is the work of the Holy Spirit, and where the Holy Spirit is at work, there God the Father loves to be. Do you not see that your contrition comes from the Spirit, and your hope comes from the Son? Should the Father not come and dwell where his Spirit and where his Son already are? Be of good cheer, you with a cast down spirit. Though every hope is broken, and all your joy is dead, though you are brought very low, even to the extreme of doubting and fear, yet God has said it, and he will keep his word: he will come and dwell with those who are of a contrite spirit.
14. The third word describes the temples even more graphically: God will dwell with those who tremble at his word. Now the man who is in a proper state for God to dwell in, trembles at God’s word because he believes it to be all true. If you doubt God’s word, between God and you there is a disagreement, a rupture, a quarrel; and God never will dwell in your soul. The trembler believes it to be all true, and therefore he trembles. As he reads the law, he says, “Your holy law condemns me.” He trembles before the threatenings of that law, for he feels he deserves them to be fulfilled on him. And when the gospel comes, and he receives it and rejoices in it he trembles before it, — trembles at the love that looked upon him from all eternity, — trembles that he should have nailed the Saviour to the cross, — trembles lest, after all, he should not be washed in the precious blood, and he trembles after he is washed, lest he should not walk as blood-washed spirits should. These things are so high and sublime, that he trembles beneath the burden of the glory that he should receive. He trembles at the promise. “Oh Lord,” he says, “let that sweet promise be mine,” and he trembles lest he should miss it, — trembles at a precept lest he should misunderstand it, or not carry it out in a proper spirit. He is not like some, who say of certain precepts, “These are non-essential.” “No,” says the man of God, “I tremble at what you call a non-essential precept.” If there is an ordinance, ordained by God in Scripture, and others slight it and say it is trivial, the man of God, says, “No, to me it is not trivial or unimportant. Anything that is in the word of God and has the stamp of his approval, I tremble at.” Someone once said to an old Puritan, “Some have so shredded their conscience, that you might make a little nick in yours. There is no reason why you should be so precise”; but the other replied, “I serve a precise God.” The God of Israel is a jealous God, and his people know it. Moses was not permitted to enter Canaan, for such a sin that you can hardly tell what it was, — it seemed such a little one; yet he was excluded from the land of promise for it; for God is more particular with those who are near to him than with others. He is jealous with those who are at Court; and he who leans his head on his bosom must expect the great Saviour to be more strict with him than with any of those who are outside. Oh, beloved, we must tremble at God’s word. We know we shall enter heaven if we are believers in Jesus, but we tremble lest by any means we should mar our evidence of being heirs of that goodly land. We know the love of God will never cast us away; we know the eternal love will never reject those whom it has chosen; but we tremble lest we should abuse that grace. The more gracious the doctrines we hear and believe, the more we tremble, lest we should sin against such a gracious God. We go through the world trembling and rejoicing. Now, if that is our condition, God says he will dwell with us. Oh, there are some of you dear hearts here that could not lay hold on this text anywhere, except on this particular point. You can say, “Oh, sir, I do tremble under God’s word. How often under a sermon you make me quiver from head to foot; and, when I am reading the Bible alone, I am melted into tears with it.” Dear brother, I am glad of that, I am glad of that; for a holy trembling is a sign of life. If you can quiver before the eternal majesty of God’s voice, you are not altogether like the stocks and stones, — not altogether dead in trespasses and sins. See then (for I will say no more upon it) what a blessed thing it is to be of this character, that God will dwell with us.
15. III. I will close, lastly, with this: Those who are of this character secure A GREAT BLESSING.
God he says will esteem them. That means several things. It means
consideration. Whoever and whatever God may overlook, he will esteem
a broken heart. This means approbation. Though God does not approve
of the most costly building that is meant to be his house, he
approves of everyone who trembles at his word. It means acceptance.
Though God will accept no materialism in his worship, he will accept
the sighs and cries of a poor broken spirit. It means affection. No
matter who does not receive God’s help, contrite spirits shall have
it. And it means benediction. “I will esteem this man.” I was
reading the other day in an old author the following reflection as
near as I can remember it. He says, “There may be a child in the
family who is very weak and sickly. There are several others who are
in poor health, but this one is severely ill. And the mother says to
the nurse, ‘You shall look after the rest, but I will look after
this one — even this one who is so severely sick and so exceedingly
weak.’ ” So God does not say to his angels, “You shall look after the
poor and the contrite, I have other things to do,” but he says, “Go,
you spirits, you ministering spirits to those who are stronger, and
bear them up in your hands, lest they dash themselves against
a stone; but here is a poor soul that is very poor: I will look after
him myself. Here is a poor spirit that is very broken: I will
bind that up myself. Here is a heart that trembles very much at my
word: I will comfort that heart myself”; and so, he who counts the
number of the stars, and calls them all by name — he heals the broken
in heart; he binds up their wounds. Out of special love for them he
will do it himself. I should like to be the means of comfort to some
contrite spirit tonight. Very likely the Lord will say, “No, I will
not make you the means of it.” Very well, Master: may it be as you
wish; but you will do it yourself. When we write books and tracts, we
wish that we might comfort the desponding. Very likely the Lord will
say, “No, no.” What should we reply to this? “Lord, you can do it
better than we could. There are some sores we cannot reach, some
diseases that laugh at our medicines, but, good Lord, you can do it.”
And the Lord will come to you, poor broken down in heart, — he will
come. Do not despair. Though the devil says you will never be saved,
do not believe it; and above all, turn your eyes full of tears to
Christ on the cross, and trust him. There is salvation in no one
else, but there is salvation in the crucified Redeemer.
There is life for a look at the Crucified One;
There is life at this moment for thee;
Then look, sinner — look unto him, and be saved —
Unto him who was nail’d to the tree.
It is not thy tears of repentance or prayers,
But the blood that atones for the soul:
On him, then, who shed it believing at once
Thy weight of iniquities roll.
His anguish of soul on the cross hast thou seen?
His cry of distress hast thou heard?
Then why, if the terrors of wrath he endured,
Should pardon to thee be deferr’d?
We are heal’d by his stripes; — wouldest thou add to the word?
And he is our righteousness made:
The best robe of heaven he bids thee put on:
Oh! couldst thou be better array’d?
Then doubt not thy welcome, since God has declared,
There remaineth no more to be done;
That once in the end of the world he appeared;
And completed the work he begun.
Look to Jesus, and rest your soul at the foot of his cross, and if you do not receive life today, nor tomorrow, you will receive it; and if you do not have joy and peace in believing for many a day, it will come: it must come, for God will sooner or later esteem him who is poor and of a contrite spirit, and who trembles at his word.
17. Now, many will go away and laugh, and say, “Well, I understand nothing about that.” Poor heart! The more is the pity! If you live and die, not knowing this, your lot will be worse than if you had never been born. May the Lord have mercy on you! Though your pocket is lined with gold, and your back is covered with the finest cloth, and your house is full of splendid furniture, and you have children on your knee, may God have mercy on you if you have never known what a contrite spirit means, for, as the Lord lives, a terrible end will be yours — an end without end, for ever and ever.
But, and if I speak to the poorest of the poor, who came in here
though they thought their clothes were not fit for decent company,
though you do not have a home to go to tonight, and though you do not
have any comfort of conscience by reason of sin; or, if I speak to
those who have many creature comforts, but no comfort in spirit,
because you are pressed down by guilt; bless the Lord here, as you
listen to the proclamation of his tender mindfulness of your low
estate; for the message has come, and Jesus is come to set the
captive free, to open blind eyes, and recover the lost. “This is a
faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptance, that Christ Jesus came
into the world to save sinners.” May you find salvation in him, for
his love’s sake. Amen.
[Portion of Scripture Read Before Sermon — Isa 66]
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