Faith that Rejects the World

We're going to read together from Hebrews 11, verses 23 to 28, and then David is going to come after we sing and preach for us.

Hebrews 11:23–28

By faith, Moses, when he was born, was hidden for three months by his parents because they saw that the child was beautiful and they were not afraid of the king's edict.

By faith, Moses, when he was grown up, refused to be called the son of Pharaoh's daughter, choosing rather to be mistreated with the people of God than to enjoy the fleeting pleasures of sin.

He considered the reproach of Christ greater wealth than the treasures of Egypt, for he was looking to the reward.

By faith, he left Egypt, not being afraid of the anger of the king, for he endured a seeing him who is invisible.

By faith, he kept the Passover and sprinkled the blood so that the destroyer of the firstborn might not touch them.

This is God's holy word.

Over the past couple of months, we've been making our way through the text of Hebrews 11.

It's a chapter, a famous chapter in the Bible.

It's sometimes been described as a portrait gallery of faith.

And as we've made our way through, we've been taking time to stop and consider these pictures of faith that our author has selected for display.

The first room, I suppose, that we walked through in this portrait gallery.

We might have called that the Genesis Gallery, lining the way some of the great Old Testament saints from the opening book of the Bible.

Abel, Abel, Enoch, Noah, Abraham, Sarah, Isaac, Jacob, and Joseph.

And the lives of these men and women are really held up as a powerful witness to God's faithfulness and keeping grace.

They lived and died in faith as they looked forward to that city with foundations whose architect and builder is God.

Amid a sometimes hostile, antagonistic world, they each lived by faith in the power and promises of God.

And this evening, however, we step, as it were, from the Genesis Gallery into the Exodus Gallery.

And if the main portrait hanging in our first gallery was that of Abraham,

then here in the Exodus Gallery, it is the figure of Moses that dominates.

And in these verses tonight, our author wants us to stop and consider the life and faith of one of the most significant figures in all of the Old Testament.

He wants us to hear what the life of Moses, this great leader of God's people in the Exodus from Egypt,

has to tell us about living by faith.

And in this section that Corrie read for us that reads from verse 23 to 28,

you might notice that there are really four pictures that are presented to us,

each beginning with the words, by faith.

I want to consider each of those in turn tonight.

And the first that we see here is not really to do with Moses' own faith,

but rather with the faith of his parents.

We have that in verse 23.

By faith, Moses, when he was born, was hidden for three months by his parents,

because they saw that the child was beautiful, and they were not afraid of the king's edict.

Faith does not fear worldly power.

Faith does not fear worldly power.

The reference here of verse 23 takes us back to Exodus chapter 2, 1 and 2, really.

Exodus 2 · chapter mention

As I mentioned, it relates not to Moses' own faith, but rather to the faith of his parents,

Amram and Jochebed.

And if you're familiar with the story, you might recall how in Egypt there arose a pharaoh

who, we're told, knew not Joseph.

Because of the increasing numbers of Hebrews, this pharaoh embarked on a course of government-sponsored

genocide, decreeing that all the male children born in the Israelite community should be drowned in the Nile.

However, Moses' parents didn't comply with the king's edict.

Instead, they hid their baby son for some three months before eventually launching him down the river

in a basket to be found by the daughter of Pharaoh.

An act of faith, not fear.

And that little phrase that we read there, they saw that the child was beautiful.

I think it's to be understood in the sense that they saw that their child was special.

Well, we all think our children are special.

But I think the sense here is that he had a particular destiny to fulfill.

They saw and believed that God's favor in some way rested upon him.

And the writer of Hebrews sees that there was faith at work in the actions of Moses' parents.

They were prepared to defy the law of the land in order to preserve and keep their child safe.

Fear did not keep them from doing what was right.

Disobeying, I suppose, an edict of the king of Pharaoh was a capital offense.

If it was discovered, it would have meant their certain death.

And yet they acted in faith, not fear.

They didn't flinch from disobeying the king and his decree.

They engaged in, I suppose we might say, a policy of civil disobedience.

They feared God rather than man.

They were more concerned to please the king of kings than they were the king of Egypt.

They were prepared to anger Pharaoh rather than anger God.

And that's a very important principle.

And it's one that we see repeated right throughout the Scriptures.

There are times when traveling the way of faith means that we are compelled, really,

to rebel against what rulers, authorities, or governments may demand of us.

Sometimes doing what God wants us to do will bring us into conflict with those in authority and power.

However, as Christians, we are duty-bound to obey God rather than men.

Yes, of course, there is a right and lawful obedience that we owe to the state and government

because we recognize God's authority behind it.

We discover that in passages like Romans 13.

But we must disobey if the government forbids what God commands or commands what God forbids.

Our absolute loyalty and devotion is for God alone.

And that's something that we, again, see not just in Scripture,

but right down through the history of the Christian church.

The Reformers, the Covenanters.

We see it today in different parts of the world also.

And maybe here in Britain in the near future,

we might have to face that same kind of challenge.

Obey God or obey men.

We think of things like the proposed conversion therapy ban.

Well, conceivably, it could lead to evangelism and the sharing of the Christian faith being effectively outlawed.

What might that mean for the church?

What might that mean for us as Christians?

God is the ultimate authority.

The state's power is not absolute.

And so it can't demand of us absolute obedience.

If the state commands what God forbids or forbids what God demands,

our duty is to disobey.

And so, back in the book of Exodus, in Exodus 1,

the Jewish midwives there, we're told,

feared God and disobeyed the king.

In Daniel 6, a passage that we looked at,

Corrie looked at a couple of weeks ago,

Daniel prayed to God in defiance of the king's decree.

In Acts 5, we read of Peter and John saying,

what?

We must obey God rather than men.

I don't doubt that Moses' parents were afraid at the prospect

of being executed for their actions,

but they refused to…

what they refused to do was allow that fear to shape and control their decision.

They did what God wanted,

even at risk of their own personal safety.

And traveling the way of faith means that sometimes we have to face our fears,

fear of what others may think or even do to us.

Faith does not fear worldly power,

no matter how great or terrifying it may be.

And that brings me to the second thing here.

Faith chooses, you'll notice,

in verses 24 through 26,

faith chooses to suffer with the people of God.

By faith, Moses, when he was grown up,

refused to be called the son of Pharaoh's daughter,

choosing rather to be mistreated with the people of God

than to enjoy the fleeting pleasures of sin.

He considered the reproach of Christ greater wealth than the treasures of Egypt,

for he was looking to the reward.

Those verses, I think, are all in one sentence in the original language.

And they relate to the fundamental, I suppose,

the defining decision of Moses' life.

And that was his decision to turn his back on the comfort and security of Egypt

and to identify himself with the suffering people of God.

Human life, as we all know, is full of tough choices.

I think it's in this film,

The Bridges of Madison County,

Meryl Streep says to Clint Eastwood,

We are the choices we make.

That's certainly true here of Moses.

In God's providence, he was led to a point of decision,

a moment of truth.

And that decision revealed just where his heart truly lay.

And sometimes God brings us, his people,

to such moments to reveal, to disclose,

just where our loyalties really lie.

What is really important in our lives?

Moses, though a Hebrew, was raised as Egyptian royalty.

Stephen, in Acts chapter 7,

Acts 7 · chapter mention

in his speech there, Acts 7.22, says,

Moses was instructed in all the wisdom of the Egyptians.

In other words, he had a very privileged upbringing.

I have no doubt he was tempted to remain in Egypt

as the son of Pharaoh's daughter.

He would have enjoyed a life of luxury and worldly pleasure.

But a choice had to be made.

And God led him into the valley of decision.

And the choice he was faced with

was between being called the son of Pharaoh's daughter,

enjoying the security, safety,

the great treasures of Egypt,

and being mistreated

with the despised, suffering people of God.

Some choice.

And yet we're told here that Moses turned his back on Egypt

and on all it could offer him.

He wanted to help his people.

He wanted to see his people delivered.

He could have reasoned, I suppose,

that staying in the royal palace,

working behind the scenes,

might have been the best way to go.

But he resisted that temptation

and turned his back on it all.

Sometimes faith is known

by what it refuses to do.

Faith is known by what it says no to.

There is often this negative side

to traveling the way of faith.

Paul says, Titus 2.12,

the grace of God teaches us

to say no to ungodliness

and worldly passions.

The psalmist, Psalm 1 verse 1,

Psalms 1:1

blessed is the man who walks

not in the counsel of the wicked,

does not stand in the way of sinners,

and does not sit in the seat of scoffers.

Moses said no to Egypt

and yes to Israel.

He didn't sit on the fence.

He had a clarity of thought

that saw all the treasures of Egypt

for what they really were,

the fleeting pleasures of sin.

And he chose to identify himself

with his people.

Well, that's true of all of us.

We belong in one camp or the other.

We belong to Egypt

or we belong to the Israel of God.

We're either storing up for ourselves

treasures in heaven or on earth.

We're either living for God

or for ourselves.

I wonder where you stand tonight.

I wonder where your heart belongs

this evening.

Will you stand with God's people?

Even if that means

you won't really fit in

in this world.

Even if it means you'll be,

always be a bit of an outsider.

Maybe in your work

or place of employment.

Maybe in your family.

Maybe in your community.

Will you call sin

for what it really is?

A fleeting and worthless pleasure.

Or are you someone

trying to keep a foot in both camps?

Pulling out your Egyptian passport

when it suits?

Too many of us

are content to live like that.

But that's not how faith works.

Moses' choice had this twofold aspect.

In order to say yes to Israel

and God's people,

he had to say no to Egypt.

That is, he had to say no

to Egypt's values,

worldview,

and religion.

He refused to be called

the son of Pharaoh's daughter.

What about you tonight?

What are you saying yes to?

And what are you saying no to

in your life?

Moses certainly chose

a hard and difficult path.

He chose to suffer

with the people of God.

Exodus 2 verse 11,

Exodus 2:11

we read,

one day when Moses had grown up,

he went out to his brothers

and looked on their burdens.

By faith,

he chose a path

that meant for him

shame and his grace.

Following Jesus Christ

does not mean

following the path

of least resistance.

It means identifying

ourselves wholeheartedly

with the people of God,

with the church of God.

God.

Back in July 1939,

on the threshold

of World War II,

Dietrich Bonhoeffer,

the German theologian

and pastor,

he traveled to

the United States

of America.

He was offered

safe haven

by some of his friends

there.

But incredibly,

Bonhoeffer

left New York

almost as soon

as he arrived.

He chose to return

to the rising

chaos and confusion

in his native Germany.

This is what he wrote.

I have come

to the conclusion

that I made a mistake

in coming to America.

I shall have no right

to take part

in the restoration

of Christian life

in Germany

after the war

unless I share

the trials

of this time

with my people.

He traveled

the way of faith,

a Moses-like

commitment.

I think about

10, 15 years ago

I visited

Mei La

refugee camp

for the Karen people

in the Thai-Myanmar border.

At that time

it was a huge camp

of about

35,000 people

effectively

imprisoned there,

unable to go anywhere.

It was refugees,

they couldn't enter Thailand,

it was unsafe

for them to travel

back to the Karen state

in Myanmar

because of the military.

And they had

a Bible school there

led by a man

called Pastor Simon.

He was not a refugee.

He had a passport.

He was free to travel.

He had family

in Canada.

And yet for 25 years

he chose not to flee

to a life

of relative

safety and security,

but rather to live,

serve,

and eventually die

amongst

his suffering

and displaced people.

A Moses-like

commitment.

Who knows

when you and I

might be called

to make a similar choice,

to choose

what appears

to be a hard

and unpopular way,

to leave the safe

and the secure

for the demanding

and the costly.

Look at how the writer

puts it in verse 26.

Astonishing words.

He considered

the reproach

of Christ,

greater wealth

than the treasures

of Egypt,

for he was looking

to the reward.

Moses chose

the disgrace

of the Messiah.

For the suffering

of the people of God

and the reproach

of Christ

are one and the same

in both the Old Testament

and the New Testament.

When God's people suffer,

Christ suffers.

Jesus is so united

and connected

to his people

that when they suffer,

he suffers.

That's an astonishing thing

to think about

and to reflect on.

Remember Jesus' words

to Saul

on the road

to Damascus

in Acts 9?

Saul,

Saul,

why are you

persecuting

the church?

No.

Why are you

persecuting me?

Isaiah 63,

9,

in all their affliction,

he was afflicted.

The affliction

of God's people

is the affliction

of Christ himself.

Some of you

may have heard

of the Wigton

martyrs

back in 1685.

Margaret McLaughlin,

Margaret Wilson,

tied to stakes

on the sands

of the Solway Firth,

executed

for their faith

and loyalty

to Jesus Christ.

When asked

what she thought

of her fellow

sufferer

wrestling

in the water

as the tide

came in,

Margaret Wilson

replied,

what do I see

but Christ

mystical

wrestling

there?

What do I see

but Jesus

suffering

there?

Jesus Christ

suffers

in and with

his people.

Exodus 3,

7,

the Lord says,

surely

I have seen

the affliction

of my people

who are in Egypt

and I've heard

their cry

because of their

taskmasters.

I know

their

sufferings.

So friend,

if you're called

upon to suffer

for the sake

of Christ,

to bear

the reproach

of Christ

and your family

amongst your

colleagues,

if you're called

to suffer

for the sake

of the gospel,

you do not

suffer alone

because Jesus

Christ

is always

with his

people.

He will

never leave

you,

he will

never forsake

you.

Sometimes

faith means

choosing a

path

that will

lead to

suffering

along

with the

people

of God.

Faith does

not fear

worldly power.

Faith chooses

to suffer

with the

people of

God.

Thirdly here,

faith keeps

looking to

the Lord.

Verse 27,

by faith

he left

Egypt,

not being

afraid of

the anger

of the

king,

but he

endured

as seeing

him who

is invisible.

Now,

what is the

writer speaking

about here?

There are two

main possibilities.

One,

that this is a

general statement

about the

exodus.

Moses left

Egypt,

leading the

children of

Israel,

not fearing

the anger

of the king,

not fearing

Pharaoh.

The other

possibility is

that it's a

reference to

the time

when Moses

fled Egypt,

traveled into

the desert,

to Midian,

where he

lived as

a sojourner

and as

an exile.

And that's

a better

fit

chronologically.

Whatever view

we take,

the point

is the

same.

Moses

set his

eyes

upon

God.

He

endured

a seeing

him who

is invisible.

He kept

going in

the way

of faith

because he

was looking

to the

Lord.

He was

not looking

to an

earthly

king,

but to

the very

king of

kings.

And if

we take

the latter

of those

two

possibilities,

we are

then being

taken back

to Exodus

2,

reminded of

how Moses

had wanted

to be a

deliverer for

his people.

That led

him to

kill one

of the

Egyptian

taskmasters.

That became

known to

Pharaoh.

Moses had

to leave.

He didn't

raise a revolt.

He didn't

start an

insurrection.

Rather,

he went

into a

kind of

self-imposed

exile for

forty years.

Here he

was,

called to

be the

deliverer of

his people.

This was

his destiny.

But instead,

he spends

forty years

in the

desert.

One writer

puts it,

he spent

the first

forty years

of his

life thinking

he was a

somebody,

and the

next forty

years realizing

he was a

nobody.

Well,

how did he

keep on

going?

How did

he press

on?

How did

he endure?

Because he

had his

eyes set

on the

Lord.

Friends,

sometimes

things in

this life

do not

work out

as we

hope or

plan.

Sometimes

in the

providence

of God,

life throws

up the

unexpected,

the unforeseen.

There are

family problems.

There's a

bereavement

and loss.

There are

broken

relationships,

difficulties

at work,

sickness

and health,

all manner

of anxieties

and stresses

that seem

just to

magically

appear

out of

nowhere.

Maybe

tonight

you're

in that

very

place.

How do

we keep

going at

such times?

How does

faith

persevere?

How do

we press

on in the

way of

faith when

the terrain

suddenly becomes

hard and

difficult?

Well,

like Moses,

we have to

set the

Lord before

us.

We have to

fix our

eyes on

him.

He must

fill our

vision.

If you

can imagine,

if you

will,

an

experience

from my

childhood

when the

carpet of

snow over

a field

up past

our house

glistening

in the

winter

sun

stretching

before me

untouched,

unmarked by

any footprint,

mind the

privilege of

being the

first to

walk across

it,

making any

pattern I

would like.

And I

decide I'm

going to

cut a

straight line

across the

field.

But my

eyes are

looking down

at my

feet as I

cross.

And I

soon discover

as I look

back, I

have left

not a

straight line,

but an

erratic

zigzag

pattern

behind me.

Because

looking

downwards,

it's easy

to become

disorientated.

But if

instead you

fix your

eye on a

tree or a

fence post

on the

far side of

the field

and walk

directly

towards it,

the path

you leave

behind is

remarkably

straight.

because the

truth is we

all tend to

move towards

the object

upon which

we fix

our gaze.

It matters

where our

eyes are

fixed.

We move

towards that

which fills

our vision.

Moses endured

because he was

seeing the

one who was

invisible.

He kept his

eyes on the

Lord, the

eyes of

faith.

And that's

what faith

does.

That's how

faith endures.

Be thou

my vision,

we sang,

O Lord

of my

heart,

not be

all else

to me,

save that

thou art,

thou my

best thought,

by day

and by night,

waking or

sleeping,

thy presence

my light.

Are you

setting your

eyes upon

God?

I mentioned

years ago

spending some

time in

that refugee

camp.

on the

Thai-Myanmar

border.

I was

greatly

struck by

the faith

of the

Karen

Christians,

a people

displaced from

their own

homeland,

in exile,

refugees for

decades,

little chance,

humanly speaking,

of going back

to their own

land.

What kept

them going?

How were

they able to

persevere?

I came

across a piece

of poetry

written by a

student at

the Bible

school.

This is how

it went.

This is how

it goes.

They call us

a displaced

people,

but praise

God we are

not misplaced.

They say

they see no

hope for our

future,

but praise

God our

future is as

bright as the

promises of

God.

They say

the life of

our people

is a misery,

but praise

God our

life is a

mystery.

For what

they see,

say is what

they see,

and what

they see is

temporal,

but ours is

the eternal.

All because

we put

ourselves

in the

hands of

God we

trust.

What were

they doing?

They're setting

their eyes

upon the

Lord.

Like Moses,

they endure

as seeing

Him who

is invisible,

and if we

would endure,

then so

must we.

Faith does

not fear

worldly

power.

Faith chooses

to suffer

with the

people of

God.

It chooses

to bear

the reproach

of the

Messiah.

Faith

keeps on

looking to

the Lord.

And

fourthly and

finally here,

verse 28,

you'll notice

that faith

embraces

God's

word of

salvation.

By faith

He kept

the Passover

and sprinkled

the blood

so that

the destroyer

of the

firstborn

might not

touch them.

That's

referenced

here is

Exodus 12,

the Passover,

the great

redemptive

act of

Old Testament

history,

one that

casts its

shadow

forward to

the coming

of Christ.

In Egypt,

the Lord's

people were

enslaved.

They were a

people trapped

in all manner

of suffering

and pain.

They were

under the

rule of

Pharaoh.

They were

in the

grip and

the power

really of

the false

gods of

Egypt.

Their

enslavement

wasn't simply

social or

economic.

It was also

spiritual,

theological.

In their

Egyptian

captivity,

Israel

succumbed to

idolatry and

false worship.

They revert

to the

worship of

the golden

calf at

the foot

of Mount

Sinai.

Joshua

says to

the people

at Shechem,

Joshua 24,

14,

throw away

the gods

your forefathers

worship beyond

the river

and in

Egypt and

serve the

Lord.

So,

the people's

deliverance and

redemption from

Egypt came,

of course,

through judgment.

Judgment fell

on Pharaoh,

the Egyptians,

even Israel

itself.

Nine successive

plagues,

and Pharaoh

would not

relent.

He would

not let

God's people

go until

the final

plague,

the most

devastating of

them all.

All the

firstborn children

in Egypt

would die in

a single

night.

The angel

of death,

the destroyer,

would sweep

through the

land,

bring judgment

on every

single

household.

I will

bring judgment,

Exodus 12,

12,

on all the

gods of

Egypt.

I am

the Lord.

The blood

will be

a sign

for you

on the

houses

where you

are.

When I

see the

blood,

I will

pass over

you.

No

destructive

plague will

touch you

when I

strike

Egypt.

The blood

there is,

of course,

the blood

of the

lamb,

sprinkled on

the doorposts

of the

houses.

And I

suppose it

all seems

such a

complicated

arrangement.

Why did

God not

simply

distinguish

between the

Egyptians

and the

Israelites

on ethnic

grounds?

Why all

this blood?

God is

omniscient.

He hardly

needed a

red mark

on the

door to

tell an

Egyptian

household

from a

Jewish

one.

So,

what was

going on

here?

I think

the answer

is this,

that this

was not

a matter

of racial

discrimination.

The Jews

were just

as guilty

as the

Egyptians

because they

too had

become

idolaters.

Justice

demanded

that they

be punished

for they

too had

sinned

against

God.

And so,

God does

not issue

some cheap

blanket

decree of

pardon.

He makes

provision

for those

with faith

to believe

His word

that they

might evade

the judgment

to come.

On the

morning after

the Passover

inside every

Egyptian

household,

there was

a dead

son.

And inside

every Jewish

home,

there was

a dead

lamb.

The

conclusion,

the lamb

died in

the place

of the

son.

The

surviving

eldest boy

from every

Jewish family

could say,

that lamb

died for

me.

It died

in my

place.

The

sprinkled

blood,

a sign

that death

had already

taken place.

It wasn't a

marker of

Jewishness.

It was a

marker of a

people who

had placed

their faith

in God's

word of

salvation.

And friends,

the threat of

God's judgment

is as real

today as it

ever was.

Earlier on

in this

letter,

in chapter

9,

26,

He has

appeared,

that is,

Jesus has

appeared once

for all

at the

end of

the

ages,

to put

away sin

by the

sacrifice

of

Himself.

It's

appointed for

man to

die once,

and after

that comes

judgment.

How can

any of us

avoid the

just judgment

of a

holy God?

Because we

too are

idolaters

at heart.

Friends,

the way of

escape is

the same.

We have

to trust

God's

word,

place our

faith in

the blood

of a

slain

lamb.

The lamb

is Jesus

Christ

Himself.

Paul tells

the Corinthians,

our Passover

lamb has

been sacrificed.

The lamb

has been

slain,

our redemption

paid for

in full.

And that's

why the

message of

the cross

lies at

the heart

of Christianity.

That's why

the Lord's

Supper

that we

celebrate

is so

important to

the life

and the

health of

God's

church,

because we

must never

lose sight

of the

lamb.

Behold,

the lamb

of God

who takes

away the

sin of

the world.

We must

never lose

sight of

the cross,

and we

must never

lose sight

of what

Christ has

accomplished

there in

His death.

Jesus is

the sacrificial

lamb of

God.

He was

offered up

as a

propitiation

for our

sins.

He was

given to

bear the

judgment

that was

rightfully

ours.

He was

impaled on

the cross

of Calvary

that God's

wrath might

pass over

us.

His blood

was shed

that we

might say

with the

firstborn of

Israel,

that lamb

died for

me.

He died

in my

place,

name,

bearing

shame and

scoffing

rude.

In my

place,

condemned

He stood,

sealed my

pardon with

His blood.

Hallelujah!

What a

Savior!

I wonder,

can you say

that this

evening?

The lamb

died for

me.

Jesus Christ is my Passover lamb.

Jesus Christ has given His very blood for us.

We find safety and eternal security in Him.

Nothing more is required of us

but to trust in God's Word of salvation,

to trust the message of the gospel.

Whosoever believes in Him shall not perish

but have eternal life.

Like Moses of old, faith embraces God's Word of salvation,

embraces the good news of Jesus,

and finds safety in the blood of the Lamb.

Here in the Exodus gallery,

we have these various portraits of the life of Moses.

But they're not to be viewed as pictures

hanging in a museum of dead heroes.

Instead, they're a vital call to live by faith

now in the living God.

Can you hear the words that they speak to us tonight?

Do not fear the powers of this world,

great though they may be.

Stand with God's people.

Bear the reproach of Christ,

whatever the cost.

Keep looking to the Lord.

Admit all the ups and downs of life.

And perhaps most importantly of all,

embrace the gospel

and trust in God's Word of salvation.

Find deliverance in the blood of the Lamb.

There's an old hymn.

His opening verse goes like this.

My faith looks up to thee,

thou Lamb of Calvary,

Savior divine.

Now hear me while I pray.

Take all my guilt away.

O let me from this day

be wholly thine.

May that be our prayer this evening.

Let's pray together.

God, our Father,

we thank you for your Word.

We thank you for

our Lord Jesus Christ,

our great Savior and King.

Lord, may he be truly

our treasure this evening.

Lord, help us to

rejoice in him,

to enjoy him.

And may his presence in our lives

help us

to cast away,

to throw off

all that would displace you.

Lord, help us to live

lives of living faith

in you,

the living God.

As we pray this,

in Jesus' name.

Amen.