Brothers, those tears of Jesus should be very precious and very terrible to us. Precious, because they teach us the sympathy, the tenderness of Christ; terrible, because they show us the awfulness of sin. What must sin be like if it made God weep! Are there no cities, no towns, among us over which Jesus might shed tears? Think of the crimes of our great busy centres of wealth and commerce; think of the fraud and falsehood which too often disgrace our trade; think of the selfish, cruel struggle for wealth, in which the weak are trampled down and ruined; think of the shameful scenes which night after night make our streets hideous, and then ask whether or not Jesus weeps. And more than this, let us bring the matter home to ourselves. Each one of us is, so to speak, a city, a temple of the living God. We have been consecrated to Him in Baptism, as was Jerusalem by the coming of the Ark. God has promised that He will dwell in us. Are we trying to keep our lives pure and holy, remembering that we are the temples of the Holy Ghost? Is God dwelling in the holy of holies of our heart, or have we cast Him out, like Israel of old, to make room for some unworthy idol? A man's god is that which he loves, admires, and trusts to most. It may be money, it may be pleasure, or fame, or beauty: these are all idols. Brethren, who is your God? Who dwells in the secret place, the holy of holies of your heart? God's people Israel were commanded to keep the sacred fire always burning upon the altar of sacrifice. It was never to go out. It was to be fed daily with wood, and with sacrifices of a sweet-smelling savour. It is supposed that this sacred fire was kept burning for a period of eight hundred years, till the reign of the wicked king Manasseh. From his days, when the fire was suffered to go out, the nation fell lower and lower into absolute ruin. When we were baptised, the sacred fire of the Holy Spirit came down upon the altar of our hearts. Are we keeping that holy flame alight? Are we feeding it with offerings of self-sacrifice and love; offerings of a sweet-smelling savour to God? If we have allowed the sacred fire to die out of our hearts God is no longer there. Our life is like the desecrated temple of the Jews, silent, abandoned by all, except by foul things which dwell in desolate places. Oh! that our eyes were open to see our true state; to see the things concerning our peace, before the fatal day when they shall be hid for ever from our eyes! An ancient legend tells us that the Centurion who pierced our Lord's side at the crucifixion was a soldier named Longinus, and that he was blind. When the Blood poured from the wounded side of Jesus it was sprinkled on the blind eyes of the Centurion, and he received his sight and testified, "Of a truth this was the Son of God."