Welcome to From the Pulpit in Classic Sermons.
Each week we bring you a different message
from some of history's greatest speakers in the
Christian faith and powerful sermons for modern preachers
too.
This week we have Jonathan Cahn with his
message, The Mystery of the Bride and Bridegroom.
In the beginning, before you woke up today,
before this conference and before you were dealing
with whatever burdens you're dealing with, before you
had any worries, before you were grown up,
before you had any responsibilities, before you knew
what work was and before you knew what
it was to be wearied or broken, before
you took your first step as a child,
before you stood in your crib, before your
mother first held you, before there were homes,
before there were trees or heavens or skies
or clouds or anything else, the mystery of
your existence already was.
But before there was anything else, there was
Him.
And the mystery and the meaning of your
existence on this earth is found in His
existence.
In the beginning, there was God and God
is love.
In the beginning, before there was anything else,
was love and that's the mystery of life.
And for you, you exist because of love.
And therefore, you seek love your whole life,
one way or another, knowing it or not
knowing, you're seeking it.
And even more so, your life can never
be complete until you receive, you truly receive
that love and you truly give your life
to loving and living your life for love.
Therefore, no matter whatever else you do or
get in life, no matter what you're achievement
is, without that love and without living for
love, it'll all be for nothing.
God is love.
And so, when He brought forth existence, He
wove into it the mystery of love and
He made life inseparable from love.
He created man, male, and female.
That through male and female, life would come.
And so, when a man and woman come
together in a covenant for the purpose of
love, we call it marriage.
The man becomes the bridegroom, the woman, the
bride.
They come together in a sacred joining called
a wedding and that's why weddings are so
beautiful because they contain this mystery which is
eternal and divine.
But there's one particular wedding that is filled
with the mystery of God and that's the
ancient Hebrew wedding.
I want to take you back, pretend you're
not in Pennsylvania anymore.
I want to take you back to Israel
in the days of Messiah to the mystery
of the Hebrew wedding.
It went like this.
A Hebrew girl and a Hebrew boy would
grow up separately in separate houses.
Often, they'd never know of each other until
the time of their meeting.
They both know that they were going to
be married but they wouldn't know often to
whom.
The Hebrew virgin would dream of the day,
long for the day of finding her beloved
and being joined to him.
When the two now have come of age,
the preparation for marriage begins.
And the marriage could only come about this
way.
The Hebrew bridegroom would, he has to leave
his house and journey to the house of
the bride, to her father's house.
And there he comes and he visits her,
whether she lives down the street, down the
village, across the land.
He has to come to her house no
matter where, in a mansion or a mud
hut, he must visit the bride.
And the bride and her house must open
the door to let in the future bridegroom.
And there in her house, he would pledge
his love to her.
And there, he must offer up a gift
for her, a costly gift.
The gift is called the mohar in Hebrew.
It has to be costly because it's the
sign of his love for her, the bridal
price.
And then he asks her to be his
wife.
And then she has to choose.
Often he's a stranger.
She hardly ever saw him before or never.
To say yes is to leave everything she's
known, to embrace something she's never seen, to
leave her family and her friends and her
house, to go somewhere where she's never been.
If she says yes, the mohar is given,
and she's set free from the bounds of
her house.
The two are pledged to each other.
They enter into a covenant.
They share a cup of wine together, and
a blessing is said.
She is now the kala, the bride, and
he is now the hatan, the bridegroom.
The two are deemed married, but only by
their pledge.
For when the covenant is sealed, the hatan,
the bridegroom, bids his bride farewell, and he
leaves her.
The first visit is over, and it's called
the kiddushim.
They have made a pledge to each other.
They've consecrated each other to each other.
The bridegroom then returns to his house, and
thus begins the great separation.
The two reside in separate places for about
a year.
The groom spends the time preparing a home
for the bride.
There was a law in Israel that the
house of the bridegroom has to be at
least as good as the house that she
came from.
The bride spends the time of their separation
preparing herself for the groom, for the marriage.
Everything looks the same to her.
She's still in her father's house.
She's the daughter in her father's house, but
she's no longer of it anymore.
She is now the kala.
She is pledged.
Everything is changed for her.
It looks the same, but she is pledged.
Her room, her mat, her house looks the
same, but she's in a covenant, and she
is his.
Now her house has become a bridal chamber
just to prepare her for that day.
She has to consecrate herself and keep herself
pure, and give herself to no one else,
even veil herself up so she keeps herself
only to him.
And she spends the time learning how to
say goodbye to everything she's known, letting go
of the old house and all its luxuries,
its burdens, its distractions, its temptations, her claims,
everything.
And suddenly it doesn't matter what her room
looks like anymore because she's in love.
She's got him.
She has one purpose, not to get wrapped
up in the house anymore, but to prepare
to be his companion and to become beautiful.
She is her beloved's, but she doesn't see
him.
Now during the time of their betrothal, the
bridegroom sends a gift for his bride.
It's called the matan.
It's not the price he paid.
It's just a gift of love to encourage
her in the days of their separation, to
beautify her and express his love for her
and reassure her.
The days of the separation preparing come to
an end.
The matan now has finished preparing the house
for the bride.
He now dresses up in his royal clothes
and he dresses as a king with a
garland on his head with fine linen surrounded
by his men.
It is the day of the hatuna, the
wedding day.
It's the manifestation of what they pledged in
secret now is coming into the open.
The bridegroom and his men now begin a
great journey, a procession from the house of
the bride to the house of the bride.
It's his second visit, his second coming.
The first he was dressed in everyday clothes.
Now he's come as a king.
The first time everything else was going on,
it was in secret.
Now everything stops.
The whole village turns and they behold the
bridegroom coming with his men in the streets.
It's nighttime.
The groom and his men come with torches
held high, singing songs of love and praise
to God through the open roads and the
villages.
The bride is meanwhile readying herself with her
maidens bathing in water, being anointed with olive
oil, perfumed and spiced, adorned with costly jewels
and royal linens, a garland put on her
head.
She's made ready as a queen.
She was once just the daughter.
Now she is the kala, the bride.
Her maidens keep watch for the first sign
of the chatan.
Some are standing outside with their lamps lit,
waiting.
And when they see the first torchlight of
the bridegroom's procession, they hear it.
They say, Hinei he chatan!
Behold the bridegroom!
The chatan and his men near the house
of the bride.
The house is waiting, lit up with radiance,
with great expectation.
The appearance of the bride.
And the kala appears through the door.
She's nervous, but she's excited.
She's walked through the door a thousand times
as a little girl, but now when she
walks through it, it's the last time she'll
ever walk through.
Her maidens usher her out, and they bring
her to the groom.
The two stand there looking at each other.
While everyone's watching, a king and a queen,
her face is veiled.
And then he says to her, Remove your
veil.
And nervously she removes her veil.
And they stand there face to face.
And then she puts it up again.
The two of them are lifted up on
a sedan chair by their friends.
They're lifted up with great rejoicing, and the
great procession begins with both bridal and groom's
men and party.
The procession from the house of the bride
to the house of the groom.
With torchlight and great company as it is
written, Kol simcha ve kol sason, kol chatan
ve kol kala.
The voice of joy and the voice of
gladness, the voice of the bridegroom and the
voice of the bride are heard in the
land.
With music and songs of rejoicing through the
streets of the village and the road, she
looks back at her home, sees it fading
away, growing smaller and smaller, knowing it'll never
be her home again.
And waiting for the sight of the house
she's never seen, the house she's never dwelt
in.
And then she sees it, lit up, new
and ready, adorned and waiting for her.
And there inside the house and waiting outside
the house are his family and friends, waiting
to receive her, saying faruch chatan, faruch kala,
welcome bridegroom, welcome kala.
And they are lowered down, and they walk
to the entrance, and the bridegroom takes his
bride through the threshold.
And people are showering them with bruchas, with
blessings.
She's greeted.
She enters the house of the groom, prepared
for her.
She's never seen it before.
This is what she's thought of and dreamed
of in her room.
But now she sees it, and now it
will be her home.
They go inside where the celebration is, and
a great festival is waiting which lasts seven
days.
And in the house is prepared for them
a canopy, the chuppah, a symbol of the
joining of the chatan and the kala under
the bridegroom's covering.
And when she comes under it, everything that
is his becomes hers.
And the two sit there under the chuppah
as king and queen, just sitting in each
other's presence while all around them is celebration.
The two lift up a cup of wine,
a symbol of their oneness, the first since
the day they pledged themselves to each other
in secret.
And during the seven days of their celebration,
the two of them slip away into the
bridegroom's chamber.
And there in the chamber, the two bear
themselves to each other, and the two become
one.
The two become the mystery of the bride
and the bridegroom, and now the meaning, and
now the meaning of life.
Her all existence is a love story.
Her existence has come into being for the
sake of a wedding, and the mystery begins
with the chatan.
The chatan of chatanim, the bridegroom of all
bridegrooms, in light of whom everything else is
just a shadow.
The chatan olam, the bridegroom of existence, the
one who is from the beginning, and for
whom all else is made, and as man
from his rib came woman, so from his
side comes the universe.
He is the source of all love, the
one who alone can fill life, and without
whom everything else is empty, and without whom
everything else longs for completion, and without whose
love all else is wanting and nothing makes
sense.
Who is the chatan?
The chatan is the eternal.
The chatan is God.
He is the Almighty.
He is the king of the universe, but
he's first the chatan, the bridegroom.
And the mystery of the chatan, in Hebrew
the word chatan comes from a word that
means one who joins himself in love.
Who is God?
He's not cold or distant.
He's the one who longs to join himself
in love to his beloved.
And what about the other part of the
mystery?
Who then is the kala?
Who's the bride?
Well, she's right here.
You can't see the chatan, but you can
see the kala.
The voice of the bridegroom calls to the
heart of the bride right now and says,
you, you are the kala.
You are my kala, each one of you,
whether man, woman, Jew, Gentile, old, young, holy,
struggling.
You are my kala, or you were created
to be my kala and are waiting.
You came into existence for one reason only,
to be my kala.
And everything else, everything else is second to
that.
And everything in your being longs for that,
whether you know it or not.
And that's why you search to be married.
That's why you search and go after things
you can marry your soul to, to success,
to security, to ministry, to a million things
because you were meant to be married, but
to me alone.
And that's why nothing else can fill you
because you are the kala, my kala.
And so your deepest part in your life
longs to be one with me.
You are my kala, says your bridegroom.
And I've known you before you existed.
I called you into existence, says the Lord.
I know your heart.
I know your fears.
I know your, your weaknesses and your mistakes
before you make them.
I know your secrets and I know what
you try to hide.
And yet I still love you.
And for you exist to be my kala.
For I am the bridegroom of your soul.
And so there is the bridegroom, there's the
bride.
And the mystery begins with both each dwelling
in a separate house.
So you grow up in a separate house
from his.
You grow up not knowing him, not seeing
him, but longing for something more.
You know there's something more.
There's something or someone, something empty without him
and that's good because it shows you're his
kala.
You're empty without him.
And when he's not first in your heart,
you're empty.
That's good.
Speak unto him.
It's a love story in two different houses,
the eternal and the temporal.
The bride in the temporal, the groom in
the eternal.
According to the mystery, there can be no
marriage until the Chatan makes a journey.
Until the Chatan journeys from his house to
the house of the bride.
And therefore, according to the ancient mystery 2
,000 years ago, the Chatan made his journey.
Not across the village or a town, but
across eternity.
God came to earth.
The Chatan of existence came into our existence.
The bridegroom made the journey into the realm
of time and space.
He came to our house, a world filled
with imperfection and brokenness because it was your
house.
He came as the Hebrew groom came without
great fanfare.
And while everyday life was going on, he
came unassumingly for he must come that way
first for the bride must love him, not
for his riches, but for him and his
love alone.
And it didn't matter what kind of house
she was in.
It didn't matter if it was a mud
hut or a mansion.
The Chatan would come.
He came to the house of Israel and
the house of the bride.
And so in the same way the groom
has made his visit to you, each of
you, you were dwelling in your dwelling place
separate and then one day you heard a
knock on the door.
It was the Chatan who came for you.
And even now he comes because that's his
nature.
Even you who have known him, he still
knocks and he still stands at the house
and the voice of the bridegroom calls to
the bride and says, now I am not
far from you.
I'm right here.
I'm closer to anything or anyone else.
Even the person sitting next to you, I'm
closer.
You could never journey to me, but I
have come to you.
I've come to your house and it doesn't
matter how far away your house has been.
It doesn't matter there's no distance with love.
It doesn't matter what your house is like,
even even now what it's like.
No matter how dark or poor or cold
or cut off from me it's been.
It doesn't matter.
Still I've come and still I knock.
And now I knock at the door of
your life and your heart and still you
have yet to truly let me in and
let me in.
Open the door, my beloved, says the groom.
Open the door to your heart.
Open the door to your hurts and your
your tears and your wounds and your scars
and your loneliness and your fears and your
guilts and your regrets and your unforgiveness.
Let me come in and let me touch
it.
You've got to open the door and let
me in with no reservation and that's the
only way you can be healed and that's
the only way you can be filled because
that's why you exist for me to come
in.
And so the virgin opens the door and
the Chatan comes into her house and he
doesn't judge her for her house because he
doesn't care about that he's come for her.
And so the Chatan comes into your house
and he says I've come in.
I've come into your secret places and there's
nothing that separates us.
Your burdens are my burdens.
Your tears are my tears.
Your weakness is my weakness.
Your sins are my sins and your troubles
are my troubles now and your life is
my life and you never have to go
through any trial or any burden or any
temptation, any hardship alone anymore for you will
never be alone again but you must share
all you carry and let me carry it.
So the Chatan enters the house but for
there to be a marriage according to the
mystery there must be an offering made, an
offering of the bride to the bride from
the groom of his love.
The Chatan must give a gift for his
bride that will show his love.
And so the Chatan according to the mystery
2,000 years ago in our house, in
the bride's house, in this realm, he offers
the greatest of gifts, not silver or gold
but his own life.
The life of God, the giving up of
his life for her, for you and the
greatest gift she can ever receive worth more
than anything else.
So the voice of the bridegroom says, I've
loved you with an everlasting love.
There's no end to my love for you.
For I've given the greatest thing I could
give, your Mohar I have given and there's
no greater love and so no matter what
your life has been like, no matter what,
no matter how hard it is to feel
my love and no matter how many times
you don't feel worthy of my love, it
doesn't matter I've given you your Mohar.
I've given you your gift and that changes
not and if you were the only one
in the universe, I still would have given
it and in my love you're the only
one.
That's how loved you are.
By virtue of my love and that gift
no longer shall you be called forsaken or
rejected.
No longer shall you be called sorrowful but
rejoicing and beloved.
No longer shall you be called alone or
cast off but you shall be called mine.
So when you don't feel my love or
when you do, when you feel close or
far, it doesn't matter.
I've given you your Mohar.
Remind yourself my beloved and that change is
not through the good times and the hard
times, through your dying day, that change is
not.
You are my beloved.
And so the bridegroom offers his Mohar.
It is the visit of the Kiddushin when
they pledge each other to each other and
so the Chatan must ask the beloved to
be his bride and so he does and
she must choose but she's scared.
But the bridegroom asks her to leave everything
she's known to come with him.
Everything she's seen and familiar and even though
it's been dark she's familiar with it and
the Chatan always asks his bride to leave
what she's known and she must choose.
She's pulled by the old.
She's held by her fears but she's drawn
to the new.
Her fears say no but the deepest part
of her heart saying yes, this is it.
And so the voice of the bridegroom calls
to his beloved now.
He says come with me.
Come with me.
Let go of the old.
Don't be held back.
Be not bound anymore by the past.
Let the darkness go behind.
Once that's all you had but now you
have me.
I've come to your house so you can
come to mine.
So the voice of the bridegroom says will
you, will you be mine?
Will you truly be mine?
To have and to hold from this time
forth in good times and bad and to
share all things, to be with me always,
to lean on my shoulders, to bear my
name, to be one life, to love and
to cherish all the days of your life
and then to forever will you be mine?
And the beloved at last says yes.
And the voice of the bridegroom says I,
the bridegroom, pledge you, my Kala, my love
and my life to have you and to
hold you, to bless you and to keep
you, to protect you and to be your
strength, to embrace you and share everything you
have, to carry all your burdens, to lead
and guide you, to comfort and nourish you,
to cleanse and cherish you, to love you
and to never stop loving you and to
never leave or forsake you no matter what,
to be your companion and your best friend
and your beloved from this time forth and
to the days of eternity.
And the voice of the bride must respond
and say I, the beloved, take you to
be the bridegroom of my soul, to have
and to hold you, to keep and be
kept by you.
I pledge to love you with all my
heart, mind, soul and strength, to trust you
with my life, to share all I have
with you, to follow you, to be comforted
by you, to forsake all others and consecrate
my soul to you as my first love,
to love you more than life and be
faithful in good times and hard times, to
never leave nor forsake you, but to be
your companion, your helper, your beloved from this
time forth and to the days of eternity.
And the bridegroom answers, my life is now
your life and your life is now mine
and you are no longer what you were,
you are no longer wounded, you are no
longer forsaken, you are no longer sinful, you
are no longer defeated, you are no longer
far away or wearied or broken down, you
are no longer rejected or closed off or
hurt, you are now the Kala, you are
my Kala and you're never again to live
as if you were not, you are not
what you thought you were, you are not
what others think you are, you are my
Kala and don't let anyone or anything or
any feeling make you forget that.
And so the covenant is sealed, the bride
and the groom pledge and consecrate themselves, you
and he, by the drinking of a sacred
cup of wine, their communion they've made to
each other and he says I will again
drink this with you when I take you
home.
It all takes place in quiet in the
house of the bride in secret.
The kiddushin is sealed, but then according to
the mystery, the Chatan must leave the house
of the bride and return to the place
from which he came.
And so after he gave her mohar in
her house, he offered his covenant, he said
this, let not your heart be troubled and
neither be afraid for in my father's house
are many mansions.
If it were not so, I would have
told you, for I go to prepare a
place for you.
And so the bridegroom left the house of
Israel in the house of time and space,
he returned to the house of the eternal.
The two are separate now, but in accordance
with the mystery in their separation, the bridegroom
sends his bride a gift, the matan, the
gift of love of the spirits, to beautify
her, to reassure her of his love and
a token of his presence and encourage her
in their days of separation.
For now, according to the mystery, they must
dwell separately.
So they are separate, but everything is different.
She is no longer the daughter of her
house, she is now the bride, she is
betrothed now.
They must be separate, but not like before,
for now they are separate only for this
purpose, to prepare themselves for each other and
for eternity.
And so now is the time of your
betrothal, if you've received him, and the voice
of your groom says to you, we must
be separate now, not because I'm distant, but
because this is your betrothal, and this is
the time you have, the only time you
have, to prepare yourself.
For one day the day will be finished,
and that will be next.
And so do not look by your eyes,
if you look at your house, it'll look
the same.
Though you may dwell in the same dwellings
you are in it, but you are no
longer of it.
Once that's all you had, but now you
have something better.
And when you look at your circumstance, know
that you are not of your circumstance anymore,
you are mine.
When you look at your past, know you
are no longer of your past.
Once you were of depression, that is not
your house anymore.
Once you were of anger and fear, you
are no longer of that house.
Once you were of sin and bondage, you
are no longer of that house.
For now you are the color, and nothing
of this world, of this house, can claim
you.
You are not owned by this house or
anything of it anymore.
You are free of all things, that is
our covenant, so stand in it.
I've opened the doors of your life, keep
it open.
This is the time of our pledge, and
this is the time, no matter what you
go through, know that I will be there.
Wherever you go, when you feel distant, I
will be there.
Wherever you go, I will be there.
I will protect you.
And ours is a secret love, so meet
me in the days of our separation, in
a secret place.
For this is our Kedoshim, the time of
our pledge, when we prove our love for
each other.
So keep yourself pure, and keep yourself faithful,
and keep me as your first love.
Don't give yourself to any other, for you
were only made for this.
And now this world, this life, is your
house, is no longer your home, though it
is now your bridal chamber.
It is here, everything you go through in
life, good and bad, is here to prepare
you and make you more beautiful.
I will work all things for good, so
don't waste the time.
This is your preparation, don't get distracted, for
it's only the time you have.
You aren't here to get caught up in
the house, or the details of the house.
You're here to leave the house.
You're here to learn how to say goodbye,
let go of your claims, and say goodbye
to the temptations and the pain.
You are here for that, to become more
beautiful, to be my everlasting companion.
And while you prepare yourself, I'll be busy,
for I am preparing a place for you.
Where your joy waits.
A house unlike anything you've known.
For your first house, it was built in
seven days, it took.
But your new house has been under construction
for thousands of years.
So trust me, it's better.
By my hands and in love, your second
house is better.
Your first house fades away, but your second
is forever.
I has not seen, nor ear heard, nor
the heart of anyone conceived what I have
prepared for you.
And you are of that house, so whatever
you are going through, know that you are
not of this.
Keep your eyes up, keep your heart fixed,
and keep your treasures up there, and no
one can take that away from you.
And the bridegroom said, I go to prepare
a place for you, and if I go
to prepare a place for you, I will
come again, and receive you to myself.
And that where I am, you may be
also.
And so then, according to the mystery, the
days of the separation must come to an
end.
And the Chatan, according to the mystery, must
come a second time.
One more time.
The first was to make his pledge and
his covenant.
The second, though, is for celebration.
The second is to take her home.
And so, as he left, he promised to
come again, and all who receive him, receive
him twice.
First in secret, and then they behold him
faceless.
The first time he comes in quietness, with
no fanfare.
The second time, there's a lot of fanfare.
The second time, all eyes are upon him.
And so he says, be ready, keep your
lights burning, for you know not when your
bridegroom comes.
And then you will see him whom you
have believed by faith, you will see him
to whom you have been pledged, who wasn't
secret, you will see him with your eyes.
The Chatan of all existence will be arrayed
as a king.
He'll be dressed up in his fine linens,
in all his glory, and he with his
companions, the angels and the saints, journey one
more time to the house of the bride.
Not across the village, but across time and
space, with a great procession, all eyes upon
him, to the house of his bride.
And she, the Kala, you are to be
cleansed and spotless and beautiful, and ready to
go home.
For then it'll be revealed who you are,
the Kala.
And then her maidens, seeing the torches and
the signs of his coming, will cry out,
Behold, the bridegroom comes.
Blessed is he who comes.
And then he will come to meet you
this time, this time in glory, and you'll
be ready.
And then he'll stand outside your house, outside,
on you in the entrance, you in the
doorway, on the verge of leaving your house.
And so the voice of the bridegroom calls
to the bride, even now, and says, Come
away, my beloved.
Come away with me, it is now time.
Forget the old, leave the old behind, step
out of your father's house, step out in
faith and journey with me.
Come away, my beloved.
There is nothing to fear.
There is nothing but joy awaiting you when
you come with me.
Leave the old and enter the new, for
the winter is over.
It is time for joy.
I've come this time to take you home.
And then the two will stand there.
You'll be ushered to your groom.
You'll be standing there.
He, your Chatan, you his Kala, the one
who through all your days you prayed for,
who answered your prayers, who took you out
of the pit, who kept you and you
loved him, though you didn't see him.
Now you'll see him, your secret friend.
And the bridegroom says to the bride, Remove
your veil.
It is time to see each other face
to face.
And the Kala will hesitate, for you know
all too well your blemishes and your scars
and your imperfections.
But you'll remove your veil and you'll stand
face to face.
And then he will wipe all the tears
away from your eyes.
And when you remove your veil, he'll say,
I see no blemishes.
I see no blemishes at all.
You see the mystery of the Kala.
Kala means the bride, but it also means
in Hebrew, the perfect one.
For what bride is not the perfect one
in the eyes of the groom?
And so even now the bride must learn
to see herself through the eyes of grace
in the eyes of her bridegroom and become
as he sees you in his grace, his
perfect one, my perfect one.
For now we see through a glass darkly,
but then we shall see face to face.
And then he'll say something like this.
It's been a long time.
It's time to go home.
And you'll be listed up together with him
on the wedding chair by his companion, the
angels.
The procession will begin and you'll be carried
away with him.
And you'll look back and you'll see the
old house, the old life fading and fading
and fading, the earthly dwelling receding, the old
life fading away and all its burdens.
And the bridegroom will say to the bride,
don't look back.
It's not your home anymore.
It was never your home.
It was only the place of your childhood
and your preparation.
For now you will no longer dwell in
a house that passes away.
I am bringing you to an everlasting dwelling
place, from the earthly to the heavenly, the
house prepared for you.
And he'll say, look.
And then you'll see it, the place the
bridegroom prepared for you, the place you set
your heart on.
It'll be beyond anything you imagined.
And the procession will bring you there.
You and the bridegroom will stand and he'll
say, now behold.
Here there are no more thieves to break
in.
Here there are no more moth or rust
to devour, nor time to ravage or make
old or weaken or make fade away.
A house where you can never be heard
again or disappointed or be without or lacking
in peace.
A house that can never be taken away
in a land of no more sorrow.
For here there is no night or darkness
or sorrow or pain or rejection or wounds.
And here all the sorrows of the first
house are redeemed and all you did for
me, my beloved, is now your treasure forever.
And now will your joy be unspeakable.
Enter, my beloved, and he'll bring you across
the threshold.
And then you'll be showered by the blessings
of his companions, the angels, who will say,
Baruch atah hechatan, Baruch at chakala.
Blessed are you, welcome bridegroom and welcome bride.
And you'll know then, for the first time
in your life, that you are home.
And he'll take you under the chuppah, the
symbol of his covenant.
As it is said in that day, he
will spread his chuppah over his people.
And all that was his is yours.
And you'll just be there, you and him.
It'll be just like that.
In his presence.
And there he will lift up a cup.
And he will say, in our betrothal was
the cup of our covenant.
We pledged our lives to each other back
then.
And now it's the cup of our joy.
In all your wanderings was I not with
you?
Was I not with you?
Did I ever leave you?
For my love is as strong as death.
Many waters cannot quench it, nor rivers overflow
it.
By this cup we shared in faith once.
Now let us share it in joy.
And we'll share.
And then comes the time of the consummation.
When the two slip away into the bridegroom's
chamber, which speaks of a mystery we cannot
fathom.
The two shall become one.
The two shall be joined in spirit.
The two shall become one.
And all you ever longed for, or were
made to know, will be done.
And then the seven days of celebration speaks
of completion and perfection and forever.
And then shall be perfect love and perfect
peace and perfect joy.
And you will be called married.
And the mystery will then be fulfilled.
And the voice of the bridegroom calls now
one last time to you, his beloved, and
says, you, you were brought into existence because
of my love.
And for one purpose you exist, for my
love.
Your heart was formed to know my love.
Your soul was formed to know my presence.
And everything else doesn't matter, for you were
made to be my Kalam.
And so on that day, the mystery of
your existence, Kalam, and the mystery of my
existence will be fulfilled.
For I am love.
And I have called you Zodhi, my beloved.
And I call you now, forget not who
you are and why you are.
Remember you are betrothed and bound for blessing.
Stay close to my side.
Keep your heart close to mine.
And keep your hope on your wedding day.
And forget not the time you have and
the reason for it, for the time will
quickly go.
And then we will stand face to face,
me and you.
Be strong in hope and love until comes
the day of our wedding.
So my beloved, my beautiful one, leave the
old behind once and for all.
Let the door close, leave it, and let
it go.
And step out and take my hand.
You've been listening to the From the Pulpit
in Classic Sermon series.
This week you heard Jonathan Cahn with his
message, The Mystery of the Bride and Bridegroom.
Tune in next week to hear Oral Roberts
talk about how to use the faith you
already have on From the Pulpit in Classic
Sermons.