Sermon: It's no secret (Feb. 15, 2015)

Transfiguration B

February 15, 2015

Mark 9:2-9

            In the church calendar, this Sunday before Ash Wednesday, the Sunday before we begin the season of Lent, is always Transfiguration Sunday. It is the day we hear this mysterious and miraculous story about Jesus bringing his favorite disciples up on a mountaintop, and before their very eyes he changes into something so bright and glorious that words cannot describe. (Did you notice that the gospel writer Mark tries to explain by saying, “His clothes were dazzling white,” but quickly adds the equivalent of, “But actually way more than that. Believe me, this was whiter than anything you can even imagine.”) The Transfiguration is, arguably, one of the most important events in Jesus’ earthly life – right up there with his charming birth narrative, horrifying death, and

Transfiguration
JESUS MAFA, 1882

inexplicable rising from the grave.

            Why is this story so important? Up until this point, the disciples have seen Jesus heal, preach, and change lives wherever he goes, but all that he has done has been very… human. He is to them an extraordinary human (and just before this experience Peter has rightly pegged him as the Messiah), but they have seen him as human nonetheless. But not so in the transfiguration. In this moment, for the first time, the disciples see Jesus as something otherworldly – angelic, maybe, in a way that cannot be described in mere words, and certainly can’t be explained, not to each other and definitely not to anyone who wasn’t even there to see it! Yes, Peter, James and John have seen Jesus for who and what he truly is: the glorious Son of God.

            It’s a great story, with many entry points for the preacher. Oh yes, the preacher could reflect on how Jesus was transfigured or changed before them, and when we are in God’s presence, we too, are changed. Or she could focus in on God’s voice from heaven telling them to “listen to him,” and our own need to listen to Jesus. Or she could wax on about how often we try to explain things, but that God is indeed inexplicable, and instead we should just make room to revel in God’s glory. Yes, all of these would make splendid sermons – I have either heard or preached them all myself.

            But what grabbed my attention this time around was none of that exciting and rich preaching material. No, this time I got bogged down by that frustrating last line: “As they were coming down the mountain, Jesus ordered them to tell no one about what they had seen, until after the Son of Man was risen from the dead.”

            What?! Don’t tell? Why not? If I had been one of the disciples there, I would have put up a fuss: “Come on, Jesus, that was awesome! I mean, this is good stuff here – if you really want people to believe in you and follow you, this is the kind of story that’s gonna sell. It’s just good marketing.

This totally turns the table, dude. You’re gonna get everyone to follow you now!” Even beyond wanting to promote the gospel that Jesus was proclaiming, I would be dying to share this secret with everyone for my own self-promotion! Who doesn’t love a good story to tell at parties? I mean, I’ve got a stash of stories myself that I love to whip out, that I know will get a laugh, or sympathy, or understanding – don’t you? And this, this story is gold!

            But no, Jesus will have none of it. He wants them to keep it a secret.

Have you ever had a really good, juicy secret? I mean, a life-changing secret, the kind of secret that, when you share it, you know nothing will ever be the same again. Do you remember how it felt to finally share that secret? Maybe it was when you told your family you were engaged. Or when you shared that you were pregnant. Or maybe when you told your kids you were moving to a new town. Or maybe it wasn’t such a good secret – maybe it was that you lost a job, or got a dreaded diagnosis, or have been engaging in unhealthy or destructive behavior that someone needs to know about.

Whatever the secret, whether good or bad, there is a certain relief to sharing it, isn’t there? In the case of those difficult secrets, it is likely very hard to finally share with your loved ones, but once you do, the tears can flow and healing can start to happen. In the case of those happier secrets, there is likely joyful shouting and hugging. Sometimes secrets can be a mixture of pain and happiness. Whatever the case, we know that nothing can move forward until the truth is out there.

            I wonder what it was like for those disciples to hear from Jesus, “You’ve got to keep this to yourselves.” …Actually, maybe I don’t wonder that, because you know what? Sometimes I think we are still keeping that secret. We are still keeping to ourselves the truth about God’s glory, or at least only talking about it with a select group of people who already know about it. We are keeping secret the ways that being in God’s presence transfigures us, our lives, our actions. We are keeping secret the ways that a relationship with Christ gives us freedom from the burden of sin, and nourishes and guides us on our journey. We are keeping all of that secret right along with the disciples.

            But if you’ll notice, keeping the secret is only the first part of the commandment. There is a second part to the command: “tell no one until after the Son of Man had risen from the dead.” Last I checked, that already happened. Jesus is risen from the dead. He already did have the angel tell his disciples that it’s time to go and tell everyone.

            So what’s keeping us from spilling the beans on Jesus’ super juicy secret? What’s keeping us from telling the world about how our eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord? What’s keeping us from letting the light of Christ shine through our every pore? What’s keeping us from sharing with others about how freeing it is to live a life in which you know always of God’s unconditional love, in which forgiveness is always offered, in which being dedicated to love and serve one another is a way of life? To me, that stuff is too darn good to keep secret!

            So how do we do it? How do we spill the beans? The easiest way is to invite. People are much more likely to come to church if they are coming with someone – aren’t you more comfortable going to a strange place if you know someone there? We often have “side door events” here, which are meant to be low-pressure – such as game nights, or this week’s All-You-Can-Eat Pancake dinner on Tuesday. Our Lenten series this year is also an entry point. The topic of simplicity was intentionally chosen as one that is sort of hip right now even in secular culture, meaning that it speaks to something people are already interested in. We have some wonderful sessions planned, some with experts on the topics, and this is basically an opportunity to invite people for an hour of free education as well as a warm meal, fellowship with nice people, and a time for quiet with God (though people are welcome to come for as much or little of that as they like!). You might also take an extra copy of our devotional to give to someone you think could use a little more intentional reflection on God in the coming weeks. And of course, you can always invite someone to come to church on Sundays – I don’t think we’re such a bad group of folks, and people might actually enjoy what they find here!

            Brothers and sisters, don’t keep this a secret anymore! This is juicy stuff. Share it widely and creatively. The story of Christ is a story full of good news… we don’t want to keep this to ourselves a moment longer!

            Let us pray… God of Glory, on a mountaintop you revealed to your disciples your true nature. Reveal yourself to us every day, and give us the courage and creativity to share you and your many gifts to those whom we meet in our daily life. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

How cutting back on plastic is changing my life

As I mentioned in a recent post, I'm on a bit of an anti-plastic crusade as a part of my preparation for my congregations' Lenten focus this year on simplicity. I have to say: trying to live without plastic (or

at least with less plastic, as I don't intend to go off the deep end on this... Read: I'm not going to start brushing my teeth with baking soda. I have limits.) has actually been really fun and helpful, for at least three reasons:

1) I have to think creatively about different options. If I can't get this item in the form I'm used to, what other form can I get it? Is there a more natural alternative? Is there another vessel I could put it in? Could I buy that food in bulk somewhere? If I need to go elsewhere to get it in bulk, what else can I get at that store to make the trip worth it? Just because I have always done something one way doesn't mean it is the best way, and certainly doesn't mean I have to keep doing it that way.

2) I have to constantly evaluate what is really important to me. If I can't find other options, or am unwilling to use those other options, I think, "Okay then, how essential is this really to my life? Can I do without it?" Often the answer is yes, which then helps another aspect of the whole striving for simplicity thing I'm going for here. (But again: I'm not quitting brushing my teeth. I did buy natural toothpaste.)

3) It is a concrete activity that reminds me, on a regular basis, of the impact of my seemingly harmless actions. The women who wrote the book that got me going on this crusade (Plastic-Free: How I Kicked My Plastic Habit and You Can Too) was first moved toward this effort because she saw this picture (right) of an albatross who had eaten plastic, thinking it was food. When the bird died, the plastic remained in his stomach, completely intact - because nothing about plastic is biodegradable and certainly not digestible. So I think, "Oh, this lighter stopped working," and I toss it out. No biggie, right? Except it is, because now it is inside this innocent bird's belly. That is a problem - for my faith, and for my status as a human and citizen of this planet.

The other thing I have noticed is that pretty much all of the plastic-free alternatives are actually much, much better for my personal health, and often my wallet. They avoid processed food. They encourage homegrown things and whole foods, generally bought in bulk. They result in me knowing exactly what is in things I'm putting in or on my body, because I made it myself. They involve making things (not just food!) myself because the version you can buy is not only cased in plastic, but is also loaded with chemicals. So not only am I avoiding the plastic of the store-bought laundry detergent, I am also avoiding the chemicals, AND the cost of all those chemicals that at the end of the day work just the same as something homemade. All it took was about 10 minutes of my time. Is saving 10 minutes really worth it?

The bad news, of course, is that for some people, 10 minutes saved is really worth it. And they make enough money to buy something already made (but loaded with chemicals and packaged in plastic), so just picking this up off the shelf and saving the few minutes of hand grating bar soap is, for them, totally worth it.

Turns out, living simply is not the same as living easily. You'd think that simplicity might go hand-in-hand with convenience, because convenience makes our lives easier. Not so. Living simply takes a little bit of work at first (maybe even a lot), as you figure out how to change habits that have been ingrained and try to find alternatives that work for you. But aren't most things like that? When I started cooking, I had to check a recipe five times to make sure I was doing the right thing. I had to figure it out as I went along. Recipes that allegedly took 30 minutes to prepare took me an hour, or even longer if I had to throw it out and start over because I had ruined it. But now what took me an hour only takes me 45 minutes, and I trust that if I keep cooking, then maybe next year I will actually be able to make recipes in the amount of time the recipes says it will take.

Part of the Great Pacific Garbage Patch

Yes, learning to live simply can be difficult at first. But even at this early point in my journey, the payoffs are so, so good. I feel good about myself as I fill a fabric bag with bulk food instead of a plastic one, smiling as I notice people see me do this with a face that says, "Huh, I hadn't thought to do that." Local and ethically raised food is a little more expensive, it's true, but it turns out food isn't cheap to raise and make, and knowing I am paying what it is worth (and what the workers are worth!) makes me happy. When I pour my homemade laundry detergent in the washer, I smile knowing that, over the course of my lifetime, I will be contributing dozens upon dozens of fewer empty plastic jugs to the Great Pacific Garbage Patch. To me, these joys that I find are absolutely worth the little bit of extra effort I have to make up front.


What I've done so far:
* I have always brought my own grocery bags, as well as bags into other stores. In addition, I have now acquired some mesh produce bags and organic cotton bulk food bags, which I dutifully bring with me to the grocery.

* I have located and gone to our local co-op, Abundance (great name, right??) and explored what they have to offer, which includes a great bulk food section where you can get pasta, nut butters, various grains and cereals, and even toiletries in bulk.

* I am trying the "No 'Poo Method" of hair-care. Cosmetics are almost always in plastic bottles, and also almost always loaded with chemicals that are not tested or approved. (Watch this video for some horrifying truths about The Story of Cosmetics.) In fact, there are hardly any regulations on hygiene products! So far, I am a week into either not washing my hair, or washing it with baking soda and apple cider vinegar, and the result: my hair is falling into really nice curls and isn't frizzy at all, which is exactly what they said would happen. So far it feels a little but heavy at the roots (my scalp is still adjusting to having to produce less oil), but it doesn't look dirty.

* Also in the personal hygiene area, I'm going to switch to bar soap made of natural ingredients and wrapped in paper as soon as my current products are gone. Handmade soaps look, smell, and feel so
lovely anyway. (I'm stoked to go to the Lilac Festival and stock up this spring!)

* One more hygiene item: I have the ingredients to make my own deodorant. Especially as a breast cancer survivor, do I really need to be putting chemical grossness on my armpits - especially right after they have ben shaved, this seems like a terrible idea. (I had already switched to natural deodorant, but it is cased in, you guessed it, plastic.)

* I have started asking that when people ship things to me, they do is plastic free. So far, it is working! Yes, you can ask this! They may not do it, but you can always ask. The package pictured on right is from an etsy.com artist (got my love some custom-made cufflinks for Valentine's Day!), and you'll probably find most Etsy dealers will be happy to comply. (Plus, you'll be supporting small business and hand crafts, and hardly anything on Etsy is plastic, so what else could you want?) In this case, the only plastic was the tape.

* I have been making my own laundry detergent for several months already with great success. I use this recipe.

* I have started refusing straws at restaurants. Someday, maybe I'll get this straw.

As you can see, they are all pretty small steps, but I have more in mind: I'm going to try to be better about bringing empty containers to restaurants so I can put leftovers and take out in them. I will acquire a stainless steel water bottle soon, but I'm fairly attached right now to my plastic one, for some reason. I'm very interested in something like this to substitute for saran wrap and plastic baggies (which I do wash and reuse), and I'm considering buying a tiffin for my lunches.

Well, what do you think? Are you convinced to try? What small steps can you take?

Sermon: And there he prayed. (Feb. 8, 2015)

Epiphany 5B

February 8, 2015

Mark 1:29-39

Isaiah 40:21-31

            This week Michael was out late at a meeting one night, so Klaus the Dachshund and I had the house and the night to ourselves. We decided to spend it binge watching a new-to-us TV show called Parenthood. I know many of you are familiar with it, but in case you aren’t, here’s the story: it’s about four grown siblings and their families, as they all learn the joys and challenges of being parents, as well as learning how to start being more parent-like to their own aging parents. There is the wild, youngest brother, who has recently found out that he has a 5-year-old son, and he has to learn how to be a responsible adult. There is the high-powered lawyer sister, whose husband is a stay-at-home dad. There is the sister who is doing everything she can to help her teenage kids in the aftermath of her painfully broken marriage. And there is the responsible eldest brother Adam, who serves as chief confidant and mentor to all his younger siblings, solid and responsible rock for his parents, supportive husband to a wife who would love to go back to work, and father to a 15-year-old daughter and a newly diagnosed autistic 9-year-old son. In addition he works a demanding job to provide for his family. All of this responsibility is a lot to manage, even for “perfect Adam.”

            After a few episodes of trying to juggle all the responsibility he has taken upon himself, he finally has a meltdown, after not being able to carve out even a little time for a walk with his wife. In response, his wife says, “So take a break!” He retorts that

he can’t take a break – if he does, everything will fall apart. His wife insists, “Yes, you can!”

            The fight is never resolved, per se. But in the last scene of the episode, Adam, whose daughter has just ditched early on their father-daughter-date, is donning a wet suit and walking out toward the ocean, surf board in hand, and a determined smile on his face. The very last scene shows him jumping into the waves in the background, and in the foreground, his ringing cell phone left unanswered.

            Now, I’m not anywhere close to being in Adam’s position in life, but still this closing scene spoke to my heart. The pressing needs of this world and those we love do take a toll on us sometimes, don’t they? And it may seem impossible to take a break, to put aside all responsibilities and just go jump into the waves while our phones are left ringing and unanswered. I know that I, for one, have a hard time taking real rest for myself – I do it, don’t get me wrong, but I find it a challenge. There is just too much else to do, too many things to tend to. Resting seems self-indulgent and irresponsible. Shouldn’t the third of my life I spend sleeping be enough rest?

            Perhaps the reason I was so moved by Adam’s character finally taking a much needed rest for himself, is that I was already thinking this week about how Jesus does the same thing in our Gospel text for today. Today’s text is sort of strange because it is three stories, all crammed into one short reading. That’s very characteristic of the Gospel according to Mark, which has from its very start a sense of urgency, a sense that we have to get as much information about Jesus as possible out there in as short a time as possible. And so today we first get the story of Jesus healing Peter’s mother-in-law, a beautiful story in which Jesus takes this sick woman by the hand and lifts her up and immediately the fever leaves her and she is ready once again to serve. Then we hear about how quickly Jesus’ fame as a healer spread, such that “the whole city” was soon enough crowded at his door, wanting to be healed. Poor guy! People with everything from a runny nose to a demon possession are begging for his attention, begging for his healing touch. And Jesus delivers, healing many of them and casting out demons left and right.

            It is no wonder that he needed some time to himself. And so the very next line, Mark tells us that Jesus got up early the next day, before the dawn, before anyone

could come begging for his attention, and he went to a quiet and deserted place. And there, he prayed.

            I need to read this brief verse in Mark every day. I need to remind myself every day that Jesus carved out time from his day, even as he knew that people were clambering for his attention, even as he knew how much more work needed to be done – he carved out some time to spend in a deserted place all by himself, and there he prayed. It is a sharp contrast to the bookending stories, which are nearly frantic in mood as people hunt for him and beg and need need need – but here we see only Jesus, in the quiet darkness. And there he prayed.

            Jesus, we say, is the only sinless human ever to live. If he is without sin, then by gosh, it turns out taking time for myself must not be self-indulgent and irresponsible after all! On the contrary: making time for Sabbath and prayer is something that is so important to God that God did it, too. On the seventh day, after creation was complete, God rested. God found rest so important that it was included in the 10 commandments: Remember the Sabbath, to keep it holy. It is so important, that God continues to remind the Israelites about it throughout the Hebrew Bible, urging rest for slaves, servants, kings, aliens, wanderers, everyone.

            And it is so important that Jesus himself practices it. He does it here, in our text today. He does it before he is about to endure a most humiliating death, when he goes out to the Garden of Gethsemane to pray by himself. He does it at other points in his ministry. Rest and prayer, it would seem, are an essential part of a faithful life.

            And yet, notice too that Jesus doesn’t stay there. His disciples find him, and tell him of all the needs he still has to tend to. “Everyone is looking for you!” they tell him. And Jesus gets right back up and says, “Okay, let’s go. I was sent here to proclaim the message of God’s kingdom, and that is exactly what I will do.” And they go on to the next city to continue doing God’s work. The time for rest that he took was necessary – after all, not only is he only human, he is also divine, and the Bible shows us that human and divine alike need their rest! But it was necessary so that he would be able to continue to do God’s work.

            This, too, is something I need to remember. Rest is not self-indulgent. It is not

irresponsible. It is not lazy. It is time that is essential for gaining the strength necessary to work for the kingdom of God: to be present with the sick, to comfort the brokenhearted, to tend to the poor and hungry, to work for justice and proclaim truth. These things cannot be done without spending time resting with God.

            Our reading today from Isaiah echoes well this sentiment. As our closing prayer today, I would like to read it again for you. Let us pray…

            God, you give power to the faint, and strengthen the powerless. Even youths will faint and be weary, and the young will fall exhausted; but those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength. They shall mount up with wings of eagles. They shall not be weary. They shall walk, and not be faint. May it be so with us, Lord. May it be so with us. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Sermon: The complexity of relationships with people and things (Feb. 1, 2015)

Epiphany 4B

February 1, 2015

1 Corinthians 8:1-13

Mark 1:21-28

            If you’re happy and you know it, eat a snack! If you’re sad and you know it, eat a snack. If you’re sad because you’re angry, feeling down or generally bad, if you’re sad… eat a snack.

If you’re bored and you know it, eat a snack. If you’re lonely and you know it, eat a snack. If you’re sleepy and you know it, if you’re guilty and you know it, if you’re stressed… eat a snack.

If you’re human and you know it, then your face will surely show it. If you’re human, eat your feelings. Eat a snack.

            Has anyone seen this commercial? It’s a recent Weight Watchers commercial. I think it ends with something like, “We’ll help you with the hard stuff.” It’s sort of a cute approach, using a child’s song, but the first time I saw it, even though I chuckled, I also found it deeply unsettling. It is such an accurate assessment of the relationship so many of us have with food. Food is this wonderful gift from God that serves to nourish our bodies and provide what we need to be strong and healthy – and yet for many of us, it is something with which we have a complicated relationship: we eat when we’re stressed, we eat when we’re bored, we eat when we’re tired, we eat when we’re sad… just like the song on the commercial says. What should be a gracious gift from God becomes for many of us an enemy to combat, a temptation to overcome, a continuing foe, which stalks us and grips us every

moment of the day.

            And that is just a reflection on our personal relationship with food – it says nothing of our global relationship, and the broader impact of our food choices. In the Western world, we have very little sense of what goes into the food we eat. I know we have several farmers and gardeners in this congregation, but in a lot of communities, especially urban ones, people have no sense of what food looks like in its raw form. They just take for granted how it appears on their plate or in the grocery store. Many of us don’t know what goes into its growth, harvest, and production – including how many pesticides are used, how much water, how farm workers are treated, and in the case of livestock, how the animals are treated, what drugs they are given, how much land is used, how much toxic gas they emit into the atmosphere, how much oil is used to get all this food to our communities from far away… And then of course there is the processed food, which, somewhere between its initial growth and its appearance on the grocery store shelf, is loaded with chemicals, sugars, and preservatives to give it lasting shelf life and appealing taste. All of this process for getting food from land to plate is very involved and complex, and the decisions we make about what food we buy and eat affects a long line of people, not to mention animals and the environment.

            Yes, human relationship with food is complicated, whether you are thinking about it in terms of you and the delicious looking pastry in front of you, or in terms of the larger scheme of food production. What should be a gracious gift from God and a supplier of nourishment for our bodies becomes one of our biggest challenges.

            Apparently human relationship with food has long been a challenge, albeit in different ways. We see it in our passage today from 1 Corinthians. This is one of those passages that might at first seem completely inapplicable to our 21^st century context, as it begins, “Now concerning food sacrificed to idols...” Sacrificing food to idols is not something in which most Christians participate

Ruins in the city of Corinth

today, so we may just decide to write off the rest of the passage. But in fact this passage has much to say to us regarding our own relationship with food, and our relationship with the other myriad things that demand our attention.

            The original question, about eating food sacrificed to idols, likely arose out of a dispute between members of the very diverse Corinthian church, who came from varied backgrounds. When you bring such varied backgrounds together, you are bound to get a clash. But Paul’s approach to the dispute is not only about the particulars of that question, but more broadly how to live as a Christian, a Christ-follower, in a world that often makes this a challenge. Corinth, you see, was a quintessential pagan city, and so being a Christ-follower there was particularly challenging: how do we follow Christ when there are so many cultural norms around us that go against what Christ calls us to do?

            The question of trying to live a Christian life among so many things that battle that effort is one that hits very close to home. It brings me to our Gospel text today, in which Jesus confronts a man with a demon possession. We don’t talk much about demon possession these days, outside of horror films, but it is true, isn’t it, that there many things in the world that possess us, that have a grip on us, that tempt us and control our actions – even if we don’t call them “demons.” Food can certainly be one of these. So can alcohol or other drugs, or even things that seem noble and harmless, like being possessed by a need to work, or with a particular hobby. Or we may be possessed by our fears, or our past failures. Even relationships might possess us – whether it is one that is damaging or lacking or harmful, or even an infatuation with someone. Or we are possessed with a need to have the latest and greatest toys and gadgets. So many things in this world can possess us, and when they do,

Jesus Heals a Man Possessed by a Demon in the Synagogue,
illustration for ‘La Vie de notre Seigneur Jesus-Christ’,
published in Tours 1896 (color litho) by Tissot,
James Jacques Joseph (1836-1902)

they take our attention away from God.

            This threat of possession by the things of this world is a part of the reason we will be focusing on simplicity during Lent this year. The hope is that as we journey together with Christ, we will be able to identify some of those possessions, those things in life that hinder our relationship with God and place our focus elsewhere – and then that we will be able to move past those possessions and focus on love: of God, of our neighbor, and even of ourselves.

            Today’s texts give us strength for that journey. In his letter to the Corinthians, Paul makes clear that the ultimate concern is not knowing what is wrong and what is right, but rather, awareness of how our actions and behaviors affect our relationships – with God and with our neighbor. Our behaviors are to be guided not by knowledge, which “puffs up,” but by the love of God, which “builds up,” and how that love is expressed in community.

For example, does eating tomatoes that I know were unethically harvested reflect love for my neighbors working in the field? Does addiction to alcohol affect familial relationships negatively? Does allowing fear to guide your actions and behaviors allow you to treat people lovingly? Do the things that possess you enable or prevent you from living in love of God and neighbor? Paul says this question should be our guiding light in deciding how to act.

            That’s all well and good, and a wonderful possibility in theory, but that can be really hard! And so it is our Gospel text that gives me hope for actually overcoming our various possessions. This encounter that Jesus has with the demon-possessed man is, in Mark’s Gospel, his first public act of ministry. In other words, this is significant. This action frames his entire ministry. What it says to us is that Jesus is someone who is here to confront our demons with authority. He is someone who not only walks with us, but who stands up for us, who says to the voices of the world that would challenge our efforts to live faithful lives, “Be silent, and come out of him!”

            We will not always be successful in navigating the complicated relationships we have – whether that is with food, with addiction, with our work, with past failures or fears, or even with each other. But, we can always be certain that Jesus came to confront our challenges with us, to help us face the temptations of the world, and to offer to us not death and failure, but life and freedom.

            Let us pray… Ever-living God, we live in a world full of things that demand our attention and try to take our focus away from you. Help us to trust in your Son, who confronts our possessions, and promises to bring us into everlasting life. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.