In this sermon, the preacher emphasizes the unchanging nature of God and His Word. He highlights that while everything in the world may change, God remains constant. The preacher encourages the audience to turn to Jesus Christ, who is the same yesterday, today, and forever. He recommends Jesus as the solution to their problems, the answer to their questions, and the source of life, cleansing, rest, and resurrection. The sermon also acknowledges the concept of change in the physical world and in human behavior, but emphasizes the possibility of transformation through the grace of God.

Next Sunday night I hope to speak on the omniscience of God, which means that God knows all that can be known. And I want to explain that, and then apply it and show what that means to us. Tonight I am to speak on the immutability of God, and try to show what that means to us. I have some texts which I'll read, though the entire Bible is the text. But in Malachi 3, there is that well-known verse 6, "...for I am the Lord, I change not." And then over in the book of Hebrews, we read verse 17 of chapter 6, "...wherein God, willing more abundantly to show unto the heirs of promise the immutability of his counsel, confirmed it by an oath, that by two immutable things is the promise and the oath, in which it was impossible for God to lie, we might have a strong consolation, who have fled for refuge to lay hold upon the hope that is set before us." And then in the book of James, these words, first chapter, verse 16, "...every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and cometh down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variableness, neither shadow of turning." And then that very well-known and loved verse, in the 13th chapter of Hebrews, verse 8, "...Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, and today, and forever." Now, the immutability of God, to announce that you are going to speak on the immutability of God, is almost like putting up a sign saying, there will be no service here tonight. Nobody wants to hear anybody talk about it, I suppose, just left like that, the immutability of God. But when it's explained, you will find you have struck gold and diamonds and meat and milk and honey. Now, the word immutable, of course, is the negative of mutable. And mutable is from the Latin meaning, subject to change. Mutation is a word we often use, meaning there has been a change. There is a change in form or nature or substance. And mutability is subject to change, and immutability means that it's not subject to change. I think we could get an idea of what we mean if we would remember Shelley's little poem on the cloud that you learned when you were in high school. It starts out with the cloud talking and says, "...I am the daughter of earth and water and the nursling of the sky. I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores, I change, but I cannot die." That's a cloud. It's cloud now, rain tomorrow, fog the next day, cloud again, snow the next day, ice the next day, boiling hot one day and the next day, cool the next day. It's vaporized and becomes a cloud again. It's constantly changing and passing through the pores of the ocean and shores, and it changes because it's mutable, but it cannot die. Now there is in God no mutation possible. That is, it says there in James, "...with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change." And that verse, "...I am Jehovah, I change not." You couldn't make it any cleaner than that. There isn't one trace of poetry in that. There is no figure of speech, no metaphor. It is just as blunt and prosaic as for me to say, this is February 12, 1961, period. There isn't any way to interpret that. There isn't anything you do with it. You don't go to a scholar and say, what does this mean? You don't need to. "...I am Jehovah, I change not." Two sentences, "...I change not." Incidentally, he's the only one who can say that in the universe. But he did say it, and he simply says that he never changes. That is, there is no change possible in God. God never differs from himself. Now you get a hold of this, my friend. It may be to you an anchor in a storm, it may be to you a hiding place in danger. There is no possibility of changing in God, and God never differs from himself. One of the sickest pains that we know in our lives is how people change. Men smile at you one day, and two weeks later they'll turn their face away. A friend to whom you used to write once a week, you haven't written in five years now, because there's a change taking place. They've changed, you've changed, circumstances have changed. The little babies, I dedicated five, I think, this morning, they're here now little chaps, little, tiny, soft things you pick up. Give them a little while and they'll change. These doting parents who hold these little, tender, pink things in their arms and admire and love them until their love becomes a pain in them, they'll be startled, surprised and somewhat confused and somewhat pleased to see one of these days that little fat body begin to lengthen out and those little dimpled knees becoming undimpled and getting bony. And that tendency to cling to mama disappearing, and the little guy will put his hands on his hips and back off, and he's somebody now. And that's change, that's change. We look at their pictures, my wife and I take the pictures out of the family every once in a while and just look at them, such pretty little fellows they were, and so delightful, but they're great, long, lean fellows now, lanky and tall and bronze, and they're not the way they were, and that's not the worst. Give them forty years more and they won't be as they are now. There is change, always change, change and decay in all around I see. The English poet said, O Lord, my heart is sick, sick of this everlasting change and life runs tediously quick through its unresting race and varied reign. Change finds no likeness to itself in thee and wakes no echo of thy mute eternity. There is only one thing God does not change, and all that changes only proclaims that God changes not. But all things as they change proclaim the Lord eternally the same. That's a theological fact, that's something you can build on. That is revealed truth. That needs no support of poetry, that needs no support of reason. But when once a truth has been declared and established, then I like to reason in it. To quote Ann Selm again, I do not reason or think that I might believe, I reason because I believe. I think not that I might have faith, but I think because I have faith. So I'd like to show you tonight, briefly as I can, three reasons why God cannot change. That's reasoning within the scriptures. For God to alter or change at all, for God to be different from himself or change in any manner whatsoever from himself, one of three things has to take place. Either God must go from better to worse, or he must go from worse to better, or he must change from one kind of being to another. That's so plain that there is nothing profound about that. Occasionally somebody will say, I preach over their head. All I can say is, they must have their head awfully low, because there is nothing profound about this whatsoever. Isn't it reasonable? If anything changes, it has to change from better to worse. An apple out there hanging on the bough changes from green to ripe. That's from worse to better. And if a little boy eats it when it's green as I used to, he'll get sick. I did it once or twice every year when I was a little chap on the farm and went to bed with Paul Remorbis because I'd eaten green apples. Well, when it ripens, it has changed from worse to better, from our standpoint. Let it hang there long enough and it will change from better to worse, and it will rot there and fall away. And so it gets worse from its better state as it had gotten better from its worse state. Now, anybody can get a hold of that. If you can't get a hold of it, brother, shake your head real hard and see if you can't wake up the cells in there. That's so simple. Now, that being true, then if God is to change any, then God has to either get better or worse or different. And God can't go from better to worse because God is a holy God. And God being a moral creature, being a moral being, not a creature, we are creatures, he's the being who gave us life. God being eternal holiness can never be any less holy than he is now. But of course, he never can be any more holy than he is now, because he's perfect as it is and there'll be no change in God. No change is necessary. Changes are necessary in things and people and creatures, but no change is necessary in God, therefore God changes not. And God being the eternal holy God, he cannot change, and therefore he will not go from better to worse. You cannot think of God being any less holy than he is now, any less righteous than he is now. God must remain infinitely holy, therefore fixed forever, unchanging in holiness. He cannot go from worse to better for the simple reason that God being absolutely holy cannot go beyond himself. God cannot get any more holy than he is now, going from less good to better, on up and up. God can't increase that way. You can, you and I can. Thank God we can. Let him that is holy be getting holier still, it says in Revelation. And I believe that since we are creatures and capable of mutation upward toward the image of God, we will become holier and wiser and better while the ages roll. But remember that in becoming holier and better and wiser, we will only be moving on toward the perfect likeness of God, who is already all-wise and all-good and all-holy. So God cannot become any better than he is. These words that you and I use, we use them about ourselves. A man is a good man, another man is a better man. But you cannot say better about God, because God is already there. God is the apex, the fountain, the top. There are no degrees in God. There are degrees in angels, I suppose, and there are certainly degrees in people, but there are no degrees in God. Therefore you cannot apply such words as greater to God. God is not greater, God is great. And greater is a word applied to creatures who are trying to be like God. But you cannot say that God is greater, because that would put God in a position where he was in competition with one else who was great. God is simply God. So you cannot say God is less, God is more, God is older, God is younger. You cannot say God is older, because God has in his bosom all of time, and time casts no shadow on God and changes God not at all. God does not live according to the tick of a clock, nor according to the revolution of the earth around the sun. God does not observe seasons or days, though he allows us to, because we are caught in the stream of time and the sun that goes down at night and rises in the morning, or the earth that goes around the sun in 360 days. This always tells us where we are in time. But not God. God remains eternally the same, absolutely the same. And I'd like to point out another thing, that these suffixes that we have that we apply to ourselves, they are direction words, such as back and down and upward and all such words. You can't apply them to God. God can't go back because God is already there, being omnipresent. God can't go forward because God is already there, being omnipresent. God can't go to right or left because God is already everywhere, and the heaven of heavens cannot contain him. So we do not say that God came from or God goes to. We use the words, but we don't mean about God what we mean about ourselves. Direction words haven't anything to do with next Monday of the week. I'm going to get on an airplane and fly down to Chicago and get on another one there and fly down to Wichita, wherever that is, and get in an automobile and go to Newton, wherever that is. They're both in Kansas, incidentally. And I'll preach a while there in a Bible conference. I will be going somewhere. I will be, and then I will be moving toward somewhere. But God is not one place moving toward another because God fills all places. And whether you be in India or Australia or South America or California or wherever you be around the world or out in stellar spaces, God's already there. If I take the wings of the morning and go to the uttermost parts of the sea, God's there. And if I go up into heaven, he's there. And if I go down to hell, even there, God will be. So these words, these greater and lesser words and these suffixes, backward, downward, upward, onward, these words can't apply to God. God the Eternal God remains unchanging, that is, he is immutable. Then there's a third possibility in changing. A man can go, or a creature can go, from one kind of being to another. That beautiful butterfly that you squeal over in the springtime when it's there so lovely, or maybe occasionally this lovely thing will happen. I've seen this happen in our home a few times. I never knew how they got in. But a moth, one of those great broad moths, as large and wide as my hand, a wingspread as wide as my hand, and just covered with falcon powder. You've seen them just go absolutely lovely. There they are, they usually get on a curtain trying to get to the light. They've hatched there somewhere. And it's so beautiful, we say, isn't it lovely, isn't that a beautiful thing? You pick it up and tenderly take it to the door and let it fly away. But just a little while before, if you'd seen it, you'd turn away from it, you wouldn't want to touch it, because it was a cocoon, which is a worm all wrapped up in winter clothes. And when that beautiful little butterfly that breathes with its wings, you know they do it that way, sitting there on the flower, just a little while ago he was a miserable hairy worm crawling across the road. And you wouldn't have touched him, and you'd have put him down on the table before he'd have squealed and got up and left. But now you see, isn't it beautiful? There is change, you see. Things go from one kind of creature to another. And then there is moral changes that are made. A man can be a good man and change and be a bad man. And then, thank God, he can be a bad man and by the grace of God change and be a good man. We sing sometimes the songs of John Newton. Don't you know John Newton was one of the vilest men that ever lived by his own confession? Don't you know that John Bunyan was one of the evilest men that ever lived by his own confession? Don't you know that the Apostle Paul was one of the worst men, the cheapest of sinners by his own testimony? But these men became Saints of God. And we don't canonize men in the Protestant Church, but if we did, we'd have St. John Bunyan and St. John Newton and St. John Lewis. I don't know how the Johns got so many good things, but there are so many good Johns, bless them. They change, it's possible to change. And some of you who are sitting here now, getting a bit of spiritual help out of this talk about God, there was a time when you would have been bored to tears, as they say, to listen to it. You've changed, you've changed, there's been mutation. You're not immutable, thank God you're not immutable. You're able to change, to change from worse to better, to go from one kind of creature to another kind of creature. But you can't think of that about God. God cannot go. That's unthinkable. The perfect and the absolute and the infinite God cannot become anything else but what he is. Now, let us remember that in teaching the doctrine of the incarnation, we do not teach that God became man in the sense that God left his deity and took humanity. He did that in that Jesus Christ was both God and man. But his manhood and his Godhood, while mysteriously fused, they never passed over into each other. The old Athanasian Creed makes that very clear. Our Father, way back there in the days of Athanasius, makes it very clear. They say that Jesus Christ is man, or God became man, not by the degradation of his Godhood into man, but by the lifting up of his manhood into God. And so while Christ is divine and is God, and was with the Father before the world was, when Jesus was born of the Virgin Mary, he took a tabernacle on himself, but his deity didn't become humanity. His deity was joined to his humanity in one person forever, but God, eternal, uncreated, can never become created. Now, I stand by that, my brethren. I'll stand by that right down to the end. That which is not God cannot become God, and that which is God cannot become that which is not God. But God can come and dwell imminently within this creature. You do not become God when God comes into your nature and fills you with himself. And God does not become you. There is that pantheism. But you and God remain two beings. God is your Father and you are his child, but he dwells in your heart. And experientially you are one, but actually and metaphysically you are two. Buddhists teach that we pass away into nirvana, pass on out into the eternal sea of deity and cease to be like a drop of water into the ocean. I wouldn't look forward to that. If I were on my deathbed and some priest were to come and say, well, Brother Toter, you're just about to pass out and your personality will cease to be and you will be lost and melted up into the vast personality that is God, I'd say, I'm not looking forward to it. I'm going to hang on to my own personality as long as I can, because I like my dreams and my memories and I like my thoughts and my worship and my happiness and to see and to hear and to feel, I like it. I like to be human being and alive and have my own personality. So I never look forward to the time that I shall be dissolved in God and forgotten. I'll never be forgotten. God will always keep me a being, an individual being in his heart, but an individual being capable of memory, capable of imagination, capable of thought, capable of drawing conclusions, capable of worship. Well, oh, I'll skip a lot of this tonight because we started late, but we come to this. Thine own self forever filling, said the same poet, with self-kindled flame, in thyself thou art distilling unctions without name, without veiling of thy features, without worshiping of creatures, God always the same. That was Faber, and I'd like to talk a little more about God always the same. And remember when I say that God is the same always, I'm talking about the three persons. You'll remember that I quoted before, but it says that such as the Father is, such also is the Son, and such is the Holy Ghost. The Father is uncreated, the Son is uncreated, and the Holy Ghost is uncreated. And yet there are not three uncreated, but one uncreated. The Father is incomprehensible, the Son is incomprehensible, and the Spirit is comprehensible, yet there are not three incomprehensibles, but one incomprehensible. So you can run through all the gamut of the attributes of the Deity, and what you say about the Father you can say about the Son without modification, and what you say about the Father and the Son you can say about the Spirit without modification, for they are one substance and are together to be worshiped and glorified. So when we say God is the same, we say Jesus Christ is the same. And when we say the Father and the Son are the same, we say the Holy Ghost is the same. All that God ever was, God still is. And all that God was and is, God will ever be. You'll remember that, my friend. It will help you in the hour of trial. It will help you at death. It will help you in the resurrection. It will help you in the world to come to know that all that God ever was, God still is. And all that God was and is, God ever will be. His nature and his attributes are eternally unchanging. I preached about the selfhood of God, the uncreated selfhood of God. I'll never have to change that nor edit it in any way. I go back over some of my old sermons and some of the old articles I've written, and I wonder why I wrote them like that. I could improve them now. But I can't improve it when I state that God is always the same, that God is self-sufficient, that God is self-existent, that God is eternal, and that God is omnipresent and that God is immutable. There will be no reason to change that, because God changes not. His nature and his attributes are eternally unchanging, I repeat. However God ever felt about anything, he still feels. However he ever thought about anyone, he still thinks. And whatever he wants approved, he still approves. And whatever he condemned, he still condemns, all down the years. You know what we have now in our colleges, and some of our bright young pastors have taken it over, and we have what we call the relativity of morals. They say, well, you can't be too tough on people after all, right and wrong are relative terms. What's right in Timbuktu is wrong in New York, and what's wrong in New York may be entirely right in Buenos Aires. And therefore there's a difference, you see, there's a relativity there. My friend, remember this, that God never changes, and that the holiness is conformity to the will of God. Righteousness is conformity to the will of God. And the will of God never changes for moral creatures. God means that moral creatures should always be like him, always be right, always be holy, always be pure, always be true, always, forever, and never, while God sometimes winked in ancient days because men didn't understand, and the work of salvation was not yet wrought out for men. And while God puts up with some things yet in us because we're still children and don't know and can't yet grasp his eternal purposes for us, he's not excusing it, my friend. He's simply patiently putting up with us until we come around to ourselves. But God always thinks the same. I love to think that Jesus Christ is what God is. If you want to know what God is like, read the story of Jesus Christ our Lord and you'll find that what God is like. For he that has seen the Father has seen me, or he that has seen me has seen the Father, either one. So that however Jesus felt about anything, God feels about anything. The Father feels that way. When Jesus picked a baby up and put his hands on its head, that's the way God feels about babies. Now I can understand how God can love babies. There are some things I don't understand why God loves. I never have been able to understand why God loved me. That is one of my deep theological difficulties, and I'm not trying to be humble, I'm stating a fact. I don't know why God loved me, but I can know and I can understand why he loved babies. I don't understand anybody that couldn't. And Jesus did, and he picked them up and brought them to him, and the disciples said, I'll take those kids away. Why? This is a theological school, don't you know? Here is our faculty, Jesus Christ, and we're the students. We're busy thinkers and we're talking theology. Get those babies away. And the Lord said, Let the little ones come unto me, and forbid them not. And such is the kingdom of heaven. Over in the city of Chicago they had a school among the Italians, and one little girl, Rosie, she memorized the verse, so for the little children to come unto me. And she lived on the street, and on her home playpen was the sidewalk, and her language wasn't the best. And the next day, Sunday, they asked her to quote the passage she had learned the Sunday before, and whoever could. And one little brown hand went up and shook, and it was Rosie, and they said, All right, Rosie, you quote it. It was, of course, so for the little children to come unto me and forbid them not, for such is the kingdom of heaven. And she got the essence of it, but she didn't have the King James Version, and she said, Let the little kids come to me, and don't you tell them they can't, because they belong by me. She had it all right, she had it, but she didn't have the King James Version. Now the Lord loves little ones like that, and he still does. And he still thinks the same of a penitent harlot that he always did, and he still thinks the same of a tender-eyed man seeking eternal life. Always he feels the same about everything, for he did not and does not and cannot change. Now, things serve their end, you know. Things serve their end. They change. We're in the middle of a world that's changing all the time, and I, for one, am glad it's changing. I'm glad weather changes, aren't you? I'm glad weather changes, that there isn't any doubt about it, but if we can hold out, the spring will come around and the birds will come back, those cowards. They leave us just when it gets cold, and down they go to Florida and South America, and they live down there. I always did feel just a little bit put out when the birds that I love so much all leave me and go south. They never come back. Of course, that's not only true of birds, that's true of a lot of these reliance birds, too. They go down south, you know, and don't come back. They don't come back until they can sit out on the front porch. Some of us have to stick right through thick and thin, but we're glad for the change. We're glad when the weatherman says there'll be a moderation. Moderation's another word for mutation, you know. It's going to change and warm up a little bit. We like that, unless it's August, and then we don't want to hear it. Well, in the world of nature, I hardly need to mention it. You know how a seed will produce a plant, and a plant will produce a flower, and a flower will produce a seed, and a seed will produce a flower, and a plant again, and so on, around and around through the eternal cycle. Things are changing. And in the book of Hebrews, which I've quoted before, we learn how God allowed things to change in order that he might establish that which cannot change. The book of Hebrews has this for its thesis, that the altar changed from the temporary altar to the eternal altar, that the priesthood changed from the temporary priesthood of Aaron to the eternal priesthood of Christ, which cannot change. He hath an unchanging priesthood. And the tabernacle changed from the temporary tabernacle in Jerusalem to the tabernacle eternal in the heavens. And the blood sacrificed changed from the blood that was shed every day or every week or every month and every year, to the blood that was shed once for all and needs not to be repeated. The permanency, the immutability of God's redemptive scheme is set forth in the book of Hebrews. Things changed until they perfected themselves, and they changed no more. And all things, as they change, proclaim the Lord eternally the same. Now what does all this mean to you and me? Well, it means a lot. It means, as I have preached through the uncreated selfhood of God, it means that my dependent self, my poor, helpless, dependent self, finds a home in God. God is our home. M. Simpson wrote a hymn on God being our home. My home is God, and we have found in God a home. We look forward, I look forward not so much to heaven as my home, but as God is my home in his heaven. And the eternity of God, we poor victims of the passing moment, we have found a timeless one. Some of you, since I've been preaching, have been looking at your wristwatch. Somebody said it will be all right so long as you don't look at the calendar. But your wristwatch, you're weary, weary. These boys are always doing this, always doing this. I get the heebie-jeebies when I see it. Always this. They are victims of time, always victims of time, counting our pulse beating, tearing off from the calendar that sheet that tells us we've gone one more month on our way. Time, we're victims of time, but there is one who contains time in his bosom. There is the timeless one who stepped out of eternity into time in the womb of the Virgin Mary and died and rose and lives at the right hand of God for us and invites us into his bosom where time is no more. And instead of our getting old, we stay young in Jesus Christ. Have you ever thought that St. Paul, who would now be over 1900 years old, did you ever stop to think in that moment when our Lord returns, St. Paul will be as young as he ever was. Did you ever stop to think those dear old people that we take out old and battered and wrinkled and caved in and sick and pale, and we take them out and with a few flowers unto him we lay them away, did you ever stop to think that they're the victims of the stream of time? Time has done this thing to them, or change has done it, for all time is is a word we use to account for change. Change has done this, but there will be a time, there will be a period there when they rise in newness of life and with a body like unto his glorified body, whereby he is able to subject all things unto himself. Then that old wrinkled lady without teeth and with her poor old cheeks leathery, never looked in the glass anymore, she was too discouraged. Now she looked young as the Virgin Mary, now she looked like an angel in the presence of God. I wouldn't put this down as a dogma that you've got to subscribe to, but we appear to reach our intellectual and physical maturity when we're about 30 or a little later. And if that's true, then Jesus Christ died, he had his life cut off out of the living when he was 33. God raised him from the dead and they recognized him as being the same one that had gone in. He was not younger nor older, he was the same one who'd gone in. And I wonder if it won't mean that forever and ever we will have that supreme apex of mental, moral and physical life which a normal healthy person has when he's 30. We'll all be neither, we'll not be babies. Some of you are looking forward to meeting your babies over there. Well, it's too late and too involved to talk about that tonight, but there'll be no babies in heaven. A lot of babies go there, of course. I believe that babies go there, but I also believe that they do not cease to mature and grow. And when our Lord comes, even the babes of a day old shall be like their Lord, as well as the old patriarchs of a hundred ripe years shall be like their Lord. Timeless God, an unchanging God. Well, now we sing, you know, that song, Rest My Long Divided Heart Fixed on This Blissful Center, Rest. I suppose nobody paid much attention to that. Usually we don't know what we're singing about when we sing songs. We call that preliminary. That's preliminary. I never knew what was preliminary, too. I've heard some sermons that needed some preliminary support, all right, and I've preached some. But we call that the preliminary, and so we wade through the preliminary waiting for somebody to be here in person. He'll be here in person and sing. I don't know how a man could be there if he wasn't there in person, maybe a sandy shirt or something. But he's there in person. Of course he's there in person, so he'll sing. Well, he does. He's there in person. Our brother will be there in person and will preach, and we sing the preliminary. You ever start to think that some of those preliminaries might have more in them than the sermon that follows? Listen to this. Now, Rest My Long Divided Heart Fixed on This Blissful Center, Rest. John Newton. What do you mean? Rest My Long Divided Heart. A house divided against itself cannot stand, said our Lord. And confusion in the little kingdom of man's soul, revolution and tumult, until we find rest in Christ, that blissful center. Who is that blissful center? What is that blissful center? That blissful center is none other than the Son of God made flesh, crucified and risen. And he invites us to rest in that bosom of his, the blissful center. Fixed on this blissful center, rest. And there is a real sense in which nobody knows rest of mind or heart until they find it in Jesus Christ the Lord. God has made us for himself, and we find not rest until we find it in thee, said Augustine. Those wise disciples, how wise they were on that road to Emmaus, they said to the Lord Jesus, Come on in and abide with us, because the day is far spent and the night is at hand. And he went in and ate with them, and they made himself known to them in the breaking of the bread. You will find that same Jesus makes himself known in the breaking of the bread. Ah, I say in the old song we used to sing, but we sing no more in the great congregation. Come, sinners, to the Living One. He's just the same Jesus as when he raised the widow's son, the very same Jesus. Come, feast upon the living bread. He's just the same Jesus as when the multitudes he fed, the very same Jesus. Come, tell him all your griefs and fears. He's just the same Jesus as when he shed those loving tears, the very same Jesus. Calm midst the waves of trouble be. He's just the same Jesus as when he calmed the raging sea, the very same Jesus. And someday our raptured eyes shall see. He's just the same Jesus, O blessed day for you and me, the very same Jesus. And the chorus runs, He's just the same Jesus, the wonder-working Jesus, O praise his name. He's just the same, the very same Jesus. And you will find him yesterday and today and forever the same. He has not receded into history past. He is the same today as before he went away. He is the same Jesus Christ the Lord. And if you will turn to him now, as Mary turned to him and as the rich ruler turned to him and as Jairus turned to him and many others, you will find he'll not fail you. He's not visible to our sight. But lo, I am with you always, even into the end of the world. And if you will turn to him for clear light, you will find him the same Jesus as when he gave the blind their sight, the very same Jesus. He'll feed you as he fed the multitude. He'll calm you as he calmed the sea. He'll bless you as he blessed the children. He'll forgive you as he forgave the woman that fell at his feet in her shame. He'll give you eternal life as he gave eternal life to his people. He'll wash you as you wash their feet back there. He is the same. The God we preach is the same, God unchanging, unchangeable forever and ever and ever. Let men change, God remains the same. Let theology change, God remains the same. I have seen theology change in the last years, the years of my ministry. It hasn't been too long, judged by Abraham and Job, but long enough, judged by ordinary length of life. And I have seen it change. I have seen eschatology change from a vivid, eager expectation of Jesus to apologies. We're apologizing for the coming of Christ now. I've seen that change. I've seen theology change in evangelical circles from a severe certainty of the inspiration of the scriptures, to an uncertainty and apology now in evangelical circles. I've seen it. I have seen it change from believing that the Church of Christ should separate from the world, to a slow breaking down of that, to a point now where men are apologizing for our attitude toward the world and trying to strike a common ground of understanding. Anybody loves the world, the love of the Father, I've seen all that change. But God hasn't changed, the Bible hasn't changed, truth hasn't changed, human hearts haven't changed, and the blood hasn't changed. So that you'll come to him for clear light, you'll find him the same Jesus as when he gave the blind their sight, the very same Jesus. So I recommend Jesus Christ to you tonight, the unchanging one. I recommend to you tonight God's answer to your questions, God's solution to your problems, God's life for your dying soul, God's cleansing for your sin-cursed spirit, God's rest for your restless mind, God's resurrection for your poor dying body, and your advocate above. I recommend him to you. Turn to him tonight, now, and you'll find him all he ever was, the very, very same Jesus. Now, we're going to sing... This concludes sermon number seven. For sermon number eight, next in the series on the attributes of God, please refer to tape number eight.