Story of a life and a name

December 15, 2016

Dear Isaac Karl Rehbaum,

You’re here! Born Dec. 7 (Pearl Harbor Day), 6:37am, 7lb 10oz, 20in. And just as your conception was a surprise to us, your birth story was also full of surprises. I wanted to tell you about three things about that special day: the story of your birth, the story of your name, and our very first impressions of you, our beautiful son.

Unlike your sister, you started your way into this world on the eve of your due date, like a reasonable baby! (Grace was 13 days overdue!) It was actually right after my Concentus concert, which I was really hoping I would be able to sing in – so thanks for waiting until after! After getting yourself queued up on Sunday night, you waited a couple days, then continued your journey beginning the night after your due date. Usually contractions (the muscle movement that pushes baby out) start off shorter with more time in between, and as it gets closer to the time for baby to make his grand entrance, they are closer together (2-5 min) and a little longer (2 min). You split the difference: contractions were longer from the beginning, but spread out, which allowed me to sleep between them (thanks!). The entire time, all night long, I had stuck in my head one line from one of the pieces we had sung in my concert. It became the rhythm that carried me through the labor pains. It was in Latin, though, so I looked up the meaning after and it is from Psalm 99:3 in the Latin Vulgate (Bible translation): “Know ye that the Lord is God: he made us, and not we ourselves.” I can’t think of a better labor refrain!

Brand new!

Then came the surprising part. Contractions continued to be pretty far apart, but were getting more painful, such that your dad insisted we go to the hospital. Now, I am a rule-follower, and the doctor had said to wait until they were 5 min apart, so I said, “No, not yet.” But he insisted! And good thing he did, because by the time we got to the hospital, I was so close to giving birth to you we thought it might happen in the car! They rushed me off to a room. From the time we arrived to the minute you were born was only 37 minutes!

When you came out, we were amazed how much dark hair you had. Grace had very little hair, and it  

was red. Yours is dark with blond highlights. Your dad wept beside me, saying, “A boy! I have a son!” When they put you on my chest, I smiled and said, “Hi baby!” You didn’t have a name yet, but I felt like I already knew you. Both your dad and I were enamored with you from the beginning. Even your big sister Grace, only 15 months old, came to visit a few hours later, and she was very curious and interested. One of our most cherished memories was that she came over and patted you, and kissed you on the cheek. Love at first sight!

A kiss from sister

We spent your first hours just admiring you. To me, you looked very wise, like the type who was just taking in information to use later, and who has a much deeper grasp on the world and how it works than most people. We have been talking about what we would name you for months and months and

had not come to a consensus, so we kept trying out names on you and seeing how you reacted – sometimes with a grimace, sometimes with eyebrows raised or furrowed, sometimes with blinking. We couldn’t decide – but one thing we could not get over was how very handsome you are!

First family of four picture!

As we considered your name, we were considering several factors: 1) We both wanted to use family names. In particular your dad wanted to use his father’s name, Karl, because your Grampy Karl died last year and never got to know he had a grandson. 2) You were born on Pearl Harbor Day, Dec. 7. This is a major day in American history, and especially in naval history (your Grampy was a Navy man), and your dad, who is both a history buff and a particular lover of military history, was quite taken with this fact. 3) I wanted your name to mean something important, not just to be a name we like, but one that tells a story. With that in mind, we had several names, and were trying to figure out which to use and what order: Karl, Richard (my dad and maternal grandpa), Luke (my brother, as well as my favorite Gospel, which includes the story of Advent and Christmas, the season you were born, and it also means “light”), and finally Isaac, which is not a family name for either of us but has been on my list of “names I want to name my children” for a long time. It’s a strong name we both liked the sound of. I love the meaning and biblical connection: Isaac is the name of the long awaited son of Abraham and Sarah, and when they found out they would have a son in their old age, Sarah laughed because it was so unbelievable! So Isaac means “laughter.” As we looked into it, your dad discovered that at Pearl

5 days old

Harbor, there was a Rear Admiral named Isaac Kid who died and received the Medal of Honor, the highest award given to military or civilian in this country. He was so moved by this connection, he started crying all over again!

And so, several hours after your birth (but within 24 hours!), we had your name: Isaac Karl Rehbaum. Isaac to recall those who have waited and longed for and finally received God’s promises, and been so delighted by it that they laughed aloud, and for those who have bravely given of themselves for the sake of others, and for the laughter we hope will surround you all your days; and Karl for the grandfather who never knew you, but who also would have laughed with delight to know you existed. He would have been so proud of you, my son!

We love you, so much, Isaac Karl, and are enchanted and delighted by you in our lives.

                                                                   Much love,

                                                                                Your mom

Isaac Karl's Birth Story

I love birth stories. Good or bad, I find them fascinating. If you do, too, mine was a pretty good one, so read on! (All the gory details...)

At my 40 week appointment on my due date (Dec. 5), the doctor told me she expected labor to start in the next few days, since I was already 3 cm dilated. (Contractions had started the night before, right after I finished singing in the Concentus concert I was determined to perform in, but they let up.) Sure enough, I felt a contraction at 9:30 Tuesday night, Dec. 6. I felt a much stronger one about 11pm. For the rest of

Day before due date,
with my favorite girls

the night, I felt strong contractions that I had to breathe through, but weren’t too painful (I didn't wake Michael with my managing of them), irregularly every 30-90 minutes, for 1:30-2min each, but I was able to sleep between them. All night long I had a line from one of the pieces we had sung in the aforementioned Concentus concert stuck in my head: "Scitote quomiam dominus ipse est Deus ipse fecit nos et nom ipsi nos." I looked it up later to find it was Psalm 99:3 in the Latin Vulgate: "Know ye that the Lord is God: he made us, and not we ourselves." This was the refrain to which our wee son began his entry into the world!

Finally around 4am contractions got to be about half hour apart, then 20 min, then 12-15 min, now lasting 2 min. The doctor had told me to come to the hospital when they were 5 minutes apart, so when Michael said at 5:45am, “We’re going to the hospital,” I said, “They aren’t close enough. They’ll send me home.” He insisted we would go. Between that insistence and actually getting out of bed to get ready, the pain got so bad and consistent that I couldn't even put pants or shoes on. I had asked my parents to come stay the night so they'd be there with Grace whenever we had to go, and when I said we were leaving (they were asleep) and my mom got up to give me a hug and say she loved me, even that was excruciating. I had the foresight to ask Michael to grab the tub under the sink in case I threw up (I had with Grace), and off we went. 

We called the doctor from the car. I couldn't even answer the series of questions ("How far apart are your contractions? Who is your doctor?"), so Michael took over answering, as he was racing at 65 MPH in a 35 zone, while, sure enough, I put that tub to good use! I can't say this was my most enjoyable car ride, and I'm so grateful it was only a mile and a half to the hospital!

We pulled up by the door at 6am, and Michael hopped out to grab me a wheelchair. Somewhere in my strange brain I thought to grab the parking pass out of my purse and throw it on the dashboard, then got in the wheelchair. Michael explained to the man at the door that I was in active labor, and that sainted security guard, looking at our running car in the driveway, realized the urgency and offered to take me upstairs while Michael parked. Somehow I found a way to get out my ID for the admitting desk (all the while thinking, "My ID? You are joking, right? Do you see the state I am in??"), then they wheeled me off to triage. 

A kindly woman who looks exactly like you would expect a midwife to look was introduced to me as the midwife, and she would check to see my progress while people tried to put monitors and various things on me. As she checked, Michael explained this was happening really soon, and sure enough the midwife said through smiling, kindly eyes, "You're 10 cm!" I said something like, "Holy crap!" Another surge of pain came and I was on my hands and knees, head buried in the pillow to muffle my cries. Next I knew, I had a blanket throw over top of me and I was being wheeled down the hall into the first available room, all the while offering the whole maternity floor my best warrior cry to fend off the pain. Never have I felt such urgency and intensity in my life!

Once in the room, I was swarmed with people trying to catch up with my rapid progress. Someone asked if I felt the urge to push, and I said no, then suddenly, for the first time, I did, and said, "Yes!" They said, "Go right ahead! Push however much you want!" That's when my water broke: 6:18am (and what a relief! A brief respite!). As I kept pushing, I heard someone say, "Just let her do her thing. She knows what to do," and they didn't interfere for a short time besides to offer me affirmations, and help along the work I was doing. 

Soon enough, someone said, "There's so much hair! So much hair!" I kept pushing, now more

intentionally with advice from the doctor. It was about this time that our doula arrived - she almost missed the whole thing because it happened so quickly!

Me and my boy, under the
blanket together

When Grace crowned, she was out in two pushes. So I couldn't understand why after Isaac crowned, I still had to push several more times (maybe 8-10 rounds, still not bad!). Until now I had been on my knees, facing the wall, as I had delivered Grace. Now they told me, due to the baby's position, I should try turning around on my back, and using my knees to press down on my belly. Sure enough, it worked - just a few more pushes, and I felt that wonderful feeling of all his little limbs, slinking out into the world. So incredible! Michael was weeping beside me. Someone asked him, "Dad, can you see what we have?" And Michael said, "A boy!" I knew it!!

Baby Boy Rehbaum

They placed that skinny little boy on my chest, and similar to with Grace, I wasn't so much flooded with emotion, but rather, I thought, "Well hello! Nice to see you!" I think I said, "Hi baby!" I was a little frustrated that the angle he had been placed made it hard to see his face, but I figured I'd have plenty of time to see his face later, and just enjoyed his warm body on mine, both of us under the same blanket together in our own little world. Michael continued to weep beside us.

In all that, I managed not to tear at all. I had remembered to gasp out at some point, "Delayed chord clamping," which they did, and I remembered to both ask to see the placenta and to remember what it looked like, which apparently also happened with Grace, but I have no recollection of it. The doctor

even showed me how it worked. :)

All in all, it was a pretty freaking awesome experience. Women's bodies are sure incredible, and I am once again stunned and impressed by my own unknown strength and ability to step up to do something that, even in the moment, seemed completely impossible. (I insisted "I can't!" many more times in this labor than with Grace, and was repeatedly told, "Yes, you can!" Turns out they were right!) 

The next part of the drama of Isaac's birth was coming up with his name, but that is for another post. Stay tuned for next time!

Preparing for "Twos"

Dear "Twos,"

Very soon now you will make your appearance into this world! At this point, we don't know if you are a boy or a girl, or what your name will be (we have affectionately called you "Twos" for the duration of this pregnancy). All we know about you is that you are a healthy, growing baby, measuring in the 50th percentile, and not causing your pregnant Mama too much trouble... at least so far!

Actually, I wonder if I might know a little more about you than that. I remember when I was pregnant with your sister Grace, I had developed a whole personality for her based only on how she lived and moved in my belly. Turned out, when she came out, she was a lot of the things I had suspected. So, I'm going to give this a whirl with you, too.

36 weeks

First of all, in my mind, you are a boy. When I first saw the positive pregnancy test, after the initial shock wore off (you came a LOT sooner than we were planning!), I thought, "BOY." I'm not sure where that came from, and over the course of the pregnancy, that feeling has been less at times and
more at others, but overall I have in mind that you are a boy. (If you come out a girl, we will be surprised, but not disappointed!)

Like your sister, you have been a very agreeable pregnancy, not causing too much trouble, not causing unhealthy cravings, or indigestion, or any of the yucky pregnancy side effects. I am tired, more tired than with Grace, but I think that has less to do with you, and more to do with the fact that I'm running after your sister and trying to manage a lot of things at work. You, my dear, have hardly imposed yourself at all; you just keep to your allotted space, occasionally tickling my sternum with your toes, or stretching out into my rib cage. You move a lot, but it is always very gentle and sweet, not nearly as dramatic as your sister.

I imagine you as a quiet kid, introspective and thoughtful. I think you will be more outwardly loving than your sister (who is NOT a cuddler), but still independent and interested in trying things out on your own. Despite your quiet thoughtfulness, I also imagine you to have a bit of a mischievous streak. I think you are a joker! I imagine you with a huge smile that makes an appearance when one of your clever jokes has become apparent.

39 weeks

Perhaps you and Grace will be in cahoots. I could see that - using your respective skills to pull off hilarious pranks on your poor mom and dad. I could also see you carefully observing her, and finding ways to work either with or against her for the ultimate achievement. I think you and Grace will mostly get along, but your different styles of being in this world will likely rub against each other in frustrating ways, and you will have to learn how to live together. Grace has such a strong personality, I think you will (by necessity) learn to find your own way in the world, quietly letting your unique gifts shine, and not being as dependent as she is on making an obvious impression.

I think you will teach us to notice things. I think you will move more slowly, and help us to see things we would otherwise have missed. I think you will take delight in simpler, less obvious things. My goodness, my child, I am already learning from you!

I also imagine you are strong, and resilient. I'll confess to you, this has not been an easy pregnancy for me, emotionally speaking. I have been working through some tough things, and I have worried about you, even apologized to you for whatever strain that may have caused on you and your development. But from you, I have only felt care and strength and steadfastness. Honestly, my sweetheart, this has brought me much comfort these 9 months, and I thank you.

One of the names we are considering for you if you are a boy is Isaac, which means laughter. Another is Jonah, which means dove (the bringer of peace). A third is John, which means God's gracious gift. All of these things I have already discerned in your personality, and any of them would fit. We are waiting to make our final decision until we see your sweet face, to see who you are. Whoever and whatever you are, my child, we love you!

Love,
Your mama

Preparing Grace for sisterhood

December 1, 2016

My dear Grace,

Very soon, your life is going to change dramatically. Until now, you have been the sole apple of our eye, our pride and joy, the center of our lives. But in just a few days, you are going to have a little brother or sister! That doesn’t mean we will love you any less, of course. But it does mean our attention will be split between you, that we will love another little human just as much as we love you, and that our lives will no longer center around you alone, but around both of our beautiful children.

Of course, you will also have an important role, as the big sister! We have delighted in watching you the past several weeks grow into a little person with a deepened sense of the world and your role in it. We have seen your heart grow in its ability to love. While you have never been a very cuddly baby, lately you have taken to hugging a lot more, sometimes throwing your arms around our legs or necks. You will crash into us on the couch, arms out, and offer one of your famed open mouth kisses (you haven’t quite figured out how kisses work, so yours are often quite wet, but you still make a sort of clicking sound with your tongue because you have figured out that kisses come with a sound!). You willingly blow kisses to us, to new friends, even to your grandparents’ pictures or over the phone. What has been perhaps sweetest of all is that you have latched on to a couple of “babies” of your own – in particular, to the pink bear Gramma Lo made you, and the “Bebe” toy that your Grammy MayMay got you that is just like daddy’s childhood favorite toy. First thing in the morning you will smile, jump up, and point to one of these toys, looking at us and asking, “Bah-by?” As soon as we hand it over, you grin and throw your arms around the toy and hug and kiss it. Then you will proceed to carry them with you all over the house. Sometimes we will catch you sitting Pinky on your Y bike to give her a ride, or holding your empty bottle up to Bebe’s mouth to feed her. Once I saw you trying to put shoes on Pinky. You are learning, my dear, how to love and care for another, for someone who is important to you, and it gives us a beautiful glimpse into the bigness developing in your heart.

 

We hope that you will share this love also with “Twos.” We will certainly do our best to love and care for the new baby like we have for you, but we are grateful to have your help in this! He or she will be so lucky to benefit from the love and care of three Rehbaums, and you, his or her wonderful big sister, will be an important part of that.

There are so many other things we hope you will teach Twos! You, my darling, are so adventurous and brave. You have become very interested lately in your little bike, rolling it to different parts of the house so you can use it as a stool to see something new. You always want to walk yourself rather than be carried, so you can stop and look at things if you want. You can even go up and down steps several inches high! When you fall (which is often, given your bravery and adventurous spirit!), you get right back up again, unfazed. So we hope you will teach your little brother or sister to be brave, to be unafraid to try new things, to trust in his or her abilities.

You are joyful. You are clearly delighted by life. You sing, you smile,

you make jokes and laugh at them, you draw us into conversation, you share your toothy grin eagerly (and always have). Whatever it is that has given you such a spirit, my sweet, we hope you will share your secret with Twos.

You love to learn. You are always taking everything in. Your dad and I have watched you be mesmerized by airplanes, watching them move across the sky until they can no longer be seen or

Always exploring something...

heard (you are your daddy’s daughter!). You carefully examine new people and things, maybe trying to mimic their sound. You are always pointing at things and asking, “Wha-dah?” and then sometimes trying to say the word. When we sing you songs, you listen carefully, then try to repeat them to us. (You’re favorite right now is, “Row, row, row your boat” – you can get as far as, “whoa whoa whoa…”and you have taken several stabs at the ABCs.) We hope you will help Twos to learn! You have learned so much in your first 15 months, and he or she will have a lot of catching up to do to keep up with older sister Grace!

Oh my darling, I could go on and on about your charms. Please just know that even though your life is going to change, it will be for the better, and that we will only continue to love you more and more each day. We think you’re tops! You will always be our darling Grace, loved and adored for exactly who you are, and we cannot wait to see you as an older sister!

                                                                                                Much love,

                                                                                                Mom

Sermon: Disruptive peace (Advent 1, 11.27.16)

Advent 1A

November 27, 2016

Isaiah 2:1-5; Psalm 122;

Romans 13:11-14; Luke 24:36-44

            As we gear up for another Advent season, I have a question for you: How many people here love Jesus?

How many love him because he forgives us? How many because he is our friend, and loves us? How many because he shows us a good way of living?

How many love him because he was a disrupter? How many because he challenged the government? How many because what he had to offer was so entirely counter to the status quo, and so upsetting to those dedicated to the government and others who would keep that status quo, that he got himself killed?

The first few things were easy to love, right? The Jesus who stands up to authority and rocks the boat… depending on who you are, maybe not so easy to love.

And yet this is the Jesus with whom we are confronted each year in Advent. Oh, we’d love to focus this month on the wee babe on his way, as we speak, to the manger, surrounded by lowing and cooing animals, as we hang beautiful things from evergreen branches. It’s all so domesticated and easy to take. But each year in Advent, even though I know to expect it, it takes me by surprise: instead of that warm-fuzzy stuff, we get a lot of yelling – from Jesus, from Isaiah, from Paul, next week from John the Baptist… This week the yelling can be summarized: “Wake up, people! Don’t you see what is coming? Don’t you see what has been happening? God is doing something new and different. So buck up, step into the light, and get busy participating in God’s work in this the world!”

It is hard to see this Jesus as loving, much less as peaceful and serene. But it would seem that peaceful, serene face of Jesus we have come to know and love is not all there is to him. When it comes down to it, Jesus is a disrupter – one who urges us to love one another, yes, but not always in the ways that are easy or even socially acceptable. Jesus is a disrupter, and these first texts we hear in the season of Advent urge us to be disrupters, too.

            But how can Jesus be a disrupter, when we call him the “Prince of Peace”? Isn’t disruption of the status quo the opposite of peace? It does seem paradoxical. Lucky for us, Lutherans love a good paradox – our theology is full of them!

            So let’s start by just looking at this concept of peace. We all want it, right? Isaiah talks about it

"Swords Into Plowshares"
UN Garden in NYC

in our first reading, saying that the people of many nations – lots of people who are different from one another – will “beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks.” In other words, these instruments of war will be recreated into tools of growth, tools of farming and agriculture, that prepare the soil for seed, and harvest it so that all may be fed. What a gorgeous image! And Isaiah seals the deal by adding, “Nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war anymore.” Now that is an image of peace if I ever heard one!

The Psalmist wants peace, too; we are even invited in this Psalm to pray for peace in Jerusalem, a city which today plays host to Christians, Jews, and Muslims. If ever there was a place that needs prayer for peace, it is Jerusalem.

So peace – we can all agree that this is a goal. Do you want peace? Yeah, me too! Okay, so the next question is: what is peace?

This is where the problem arises, because we all have a different idea of what peace really looks like, and sometimes, what looks like peace from our vantage point does not look like peace from someone else’s. In fact, sometimes for others to have peace, our own peace is compromised.

Allow me to explain what I mean. Since Nov. 8, we have seen a very unpeaceful in America. Some 800 race, gender, sexuality, or ethnicity related hate crimes were reported in the first week alone: Muslim women having their hijabs pulled off; swastikas painted in playgrounds and at churches; gay pride flags being burned; women being grabbed and touched inappropriately because, quote, “it’s okay now!” and that’s only a few of what have been reported – many more were experienced but not reported.

In addition, lots of anti-Trump protests have broken out. Some have taken their protesting to social media. Some protests have come in the form of various petitions and rallies to call representatives. And some, of course, have come in the form of demonstrations and gatherings (the sort protected by our first amendment, “the freedom of assembly”), and while many have been peaceful, a few have, unfortunately, turned violent and aggressive.

It is especially these more public, physical demonstration protests that have upset a lot of people. Either they want people to “get over it and move on,” or they think it is an over-reaction, or

maybe they just don’t like or agree with the message. Their idea of peace would be for people to calm down, accept the world as it is, and stop making a fuss. Let’s come together as a country and work together for good.

And yes, that would bring peace in the moment. But on the other hand, the people who are protesting are also seeking peace – and feel the only way to get it is to not be silent and compliant in this moment. To be silent, they feel, is only to allow injustice to continue, which will, in the end, not bring peace for some of the most vulnerable among us.

So protesting folks have a different idea of what peace would look like – many ideas, in fact, based on their particular experience. For people of color, peace would mean that they don’t fear for their children’s lives when they walk down the street, or their own when they get pulled over for a minor traffic violation. For immigrants, peace would mean that they can live in the country they have come to love, where they have built a life, without fear of being deported and separated from their families. For refugees, peace would look like getting out of the place where life was hell, where they were in constant danger, and to a place where they are safe. For Muslims, peace would look like being able to practice without persecution their faith – which is at its heart a faith of peace and love – just like the first amendment allows them. For someone living with a disability, peace might look like not being judged based on first impressions, indeed being treated like a person who has something valuable to offer this world, even if that looks different from what someone else offers. For someone of the LGBTQ community, peace might look like the ability to live with and love another person, and have the same legal rights as others in legal, monogamous relationships. For a woman who is a survivor of domestic abuse, peace will look like safety from her abusive partner, as well as safety from the threat or talk of such abuse from others in the future.

I suspect some of those descriptions made a few people uncomfortable, as they rubbed against your own sense of peace. That’s sometimes how peace is, isn’t it?

Do these various and beautiful children of God experience peace right now? Will they experience such peace in the coming years? I suppose it depends on a lot of factors, and one of those factors is how seriously we take Jesus’ call to us. I mentioned earlier that both Isaiah and the Psalmist urge us toward peace today. The Gospel text, however, isn’t quite so clear. Rather than obvious peace, Jesus calls us to “keep awake!” to resist falling into the safe, peaceful slumber that would allow us to be complacent in the face of injustice, in the face of an absence of peace for our brothers and sisters. So what does that mean, to “keep awake”? What do we do in our wakefulness? What peace do we seek? Peace for ourselves? Peace for our neighbors? Which neighbors?

I think Jesus answers this question in the next chapter of Matthew. Anyone remember what famous passage appears in Matthew 25? It’s the one about how Christ identifies himself with the most needy, with “the least of these”: “As you did it [or did not do it] to the least of these members of my family,” he says, “you did it [or not] to me.” He refers to feeding the hungry and thirsty,

"As you did it to one of the least of these..."

welcoming the stranger, clothing the naked, caring for the sick, and visiting the imprisoned. 

Yes, it seems Jesus is quite clear about where and for whom our peace-seeking efforts should lie: with the most vulnerable, the most needy members of society. For all his hard-to-love disruptive qualities, this is what the love of Jesus looks like: like keeping awake and constantly vigilant to serve “the least of these,” to do what is necessary to bring peace to them. Jesus showed us in his life that this sometimes means being an agitator, being prepared to rattle the status quo, to put on the armor of light that is Christ and fight the good fight for those in need – even if that means our own comfort is compromised as a result. It sometimes means standing up to government and authority, like Jesus did so many times in his ministry, and not allowing them to trample the needy. It means not escaping to our own peace until that work is done.

But as he showed us in his life how to love one another and work for peace, Jesus also showed us in his death and resurrection God’s immeasurable love for us. It is this love that fuels our work for peace. It is this love that we celebrate when a babe comes to a couple of poor travelers. It is this love that carried those travelers-turned-refugees out of Bethlehem and into Egypt when the government threatened their safety. It is this love that showed us ultimately that nothing is more powerful than God, not even death.

As we look forward for the next four weeks toward the coming of this love to earth, may we be emboldened by the disruption such love causes, and by the ultimate peace that it brings.

Let us pray… Prince of peace, only you can turn our swords into plowshares, turning our animosity into opportunity for growth. Help us to put on the armor of light, and fight for those who are most in need, to stand up to anything that would threaten the peace of our most vulnerable brothers and sisters, and always to seek to bring your disruptive love to all the world. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.