Since blood was needed to redeem,
It sprinkled all the holy things.
Since sin had made it all unclean,
More blood was needed, more they bring.
But Christ, the perfect sacrifice,
Had blood that would forever cleanse,
Poured out in heaven to suffice,
As our eternal recompense.
And dying once, then all is done,
As our redemption is complete.
Remember, He is yet to come,
To trample death beneath His feet.
There is a temple real and true,
A dwelling place for God on high,
And all His saints may there commune,
Whose vaults resound with seraphs’ cries.
Yet not on earth was this tent laid,
Nor was it raised by mortal man.
A tent of skin in heaven made,
Erected by the Father’s hands.
Then all the temples which were made:
Of Moses, Solomon began,
Of Ezra, Herod, gold inlaid,
Were shadows, substance-less, and bland.
But Jesus was the true High-Priest,
Who ministered in this true tent.
The temple, yet, though none can see,
Out-shines all sensory content.
Yet Jesus is Himself this place,
For God and man unite in Him.
He is the temple of God’s grace,
And He is the true tent of skin.
To maturity let us be born,
The foundation is Jesus our Lord.
Here we build, and we hang all our hope,
Keep these ever in view as you grow:
All our works are as dung unto Him.
We are dead, and therefore must repent.
For by grace, through our faith, we are saved,
And that faith is a gift that God gave.
There are baptisms given by God:
Those of water, and fire, and blood.
The assembly of saints in His church,
Is essential to grow in His word.
Every man will be raised from the dead,
All those mortal immortal instead.
They’ll be judged by eternal decree,
To be punished, or paradise see.