From the sole of the foot even to the head there is no soundness in it: wounds, welts, and open sores. They haven't been closed, neither bandaged, neither soothed with oil.
A certain man who was lame from his mother's womb was being carried, whom they laid daily at the door of the temple which is called Yafeh, to ask gifts for the needy of those who entered into the temple.
Listen, my beloved brothers. Didn't God choose those who are poor in this world to be rich in faith, and heirs of the Kingdom which he promised to those who love him?
He raises up the poor out of the dust. He lifts up the needy from the dunghill, To make them sit with princes, and inherit the throne of glory, for the pillars of the earth are the LORD's. He has set the world on them.