Thus saith the LORD, the Holy One of Israel, and his Maker: Ask me of the things that are to come concerning my sons, and concerning the work of my hands, command ye me.
Woe unto him that striveth with his Maker! a potsherd among the potsherds of the earth! shall the clay say to him that fashioneth it, What makest thou? or thy work, He hath no hands?
A son honoureth his father, and a servant his master: if then I be a father, where is mine honour? and if I be a master, where is my fear? saith the LORD of hosts unto you, O priests, that despise my name. And ye say, Wherein have we despised thy name?
Furthermore, we had the fathers of our flesh to chasten us, and we gave them reverence: shall we not much rather be in subjection unto the Father of spirits, and live?