Your riches have wasted away, and your clothes have become moth-eaten.
Sell what belongs to you, and give in charity. Make yourselves purses that will not wear out--an inexhaustible treasure in Heaven, where no thief comes near, or moth works ruin.
Suppose a man should enter your Synagogue, with gold rings and in grand clothes, and suppose a poor man should come in also, in shabby clothes,
given us the new Life of undying hope, that promises an inheritance, imperishable, stainless, unfading, which has been reserved for you in Heaven--