Let the priests, the Lord’s ministers, weep between the portico and the altar. Let them say, ‘Have pity on your people, Lord, and do not make your inheritance a disgrace, an object of scorn among the nations. Why should it be said among the peoples, “Where is their God? ” ’
Thanksgiving will come out of them, a sound of rejoicing. I will multiply them, and they will not decrease; I will honour them, and they will not be insignificant.
For who despises the day of small things? These seven eyes of the Lord, which scan throughout the whole earth, will rejoice when they see the ceremonial stone in Zerubbabel’s hand.’
While they were killing, I was left alone. And I fell face down and cried out, ‘Oh, Lord God! Are you going to destroy the entire remnant of Israel when you pour out your wrath on Jerusalem? ’