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Is this mic on?  OK. Can everybody hear me OK?  Can you hear me in the back?  OK, that’s great.  I’m so glad you could be here today.  By the way, did you know today is Sarah’s birthday?  Let’s all give Sarah a warm welcome. Great, thank you.  Turn in your Bibles, turn with me if you will to Exodus chapter two and verse 15.  Exodus chapter two and verse 15.  I hear those pages turning, bless God.  I love to hear those pages turning.  Hold up.  Did I say chapter two?  I meant chapter 3.  Now we have to start all over!  Please turn to Exodus chapter three and verse 15.  And so this verse kind of reminds me of a poem I think my kids had to memorize in high school. What was it called?  It was called something like Ozymandum. It’s about kind of a ruler who really thought his kingdom was like such a big deal that he was he was going to be remembered for a—that we would remember him forever, right?  But, you know, it’s like there’s kind of not nothing left of him.  You know what I mean?  And, I mean, that’s not what’s going to happen to God’s—the name of Jehovah. You know what I mean?

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Exodus 3:15 says, God also said to Moses, “Say this to the people of Israel: ‘The Lord, the God of your fathers, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, has sent me to you.’ This is my name forever, and thus I am to be remembered throughout all generations.

How long is God going to be remembered? Forever. 

This reminds me of the poem Ozymandias by Percy Bysshe Shelley about a king who thought he was so great that, like God, his name and his works would be remembered forever. 

I met a traveller from an antique land,
Who said—“Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. . . . Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;
And on the pedestal, these words appear:
My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings;
Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.”

Like all of man’s glory, in time, nothing was left of Ozymandias’ great name but his claim of greatness, nearly buried in the dust.

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