22nd Sunday after Trinity 2024

So this picks up in Acts 16 at verse 35.

But when it was day, so you have to remember what's happened here is

the jailer has come to see Jesus in the Acts of Paul.

And in the morning, the magistrate sent to the police saying,

let those men go.

And the jailer reported these words to Paul,

saying the magistrates have sent to let you go.

Therefore, come out and go in peace.

But Paul said to them, they have beaten us publicly,

uncondemned men who are Roman citizens and have thrown us into prisons.

And do they now throw us out secretly?

No, Paul said, let them come themselves and take us out.

The police reported these words to the magistrate,

and they were afraid when they heard that they were Roman citizens.

So they came and apologized to them,

and they took them out and asked them to leave the city.

So they went out of the prison and visited Lydia.

And when they had seen the brothers, they encouraged them and departed.

One of the sort of recurring dreams I think human beings have,

one of them is ending up at work and somehow being dressed and still wearing your pajamas.

And the one of a preacher that moves from church to church,

you're showing up and having prepared a sermon on a different text.

So thank you for that.

Will you pray with me as we turn to the word of God?

Holy God, as we come together remembering how you inspired and established this congregation

and how you have provisioned them to fully embrace the commission into which they are baptized,

we turn to your word.

Fill us with hope and the desire for you alone.

Fill us with eager anticipation and excitement for every opportunity to speak your truth and to do your will.

Fill us with steadfast love for your people.

Help us be steadfast in the work that you give us wherever you send us.

You are the cornerstone of every Christian existence.

Let our lives be built upon that sure foundation,

inspiring us a yearning to hear and see and love and respond as people called by you.

And now as we turn to your word,

let the words I speak and the meditations of all our hearts be of you and be acceptable to you,

our Lord and our God.

Amen.

It's a joy to be with you guys this morning.

I just, I don't get a lot of opportunities to preach in the job that I do.

It's very much legal and bureaucratic and financial.

So when I get a phone call from a fellow pastor and he says,

will you come and preach?

It's like, okay, I'm on my way.

And then he has to tell me it's a month from now.

But I do thank you for this morning and just for the joy of being able to be with you,

my sisters and brothers in Christ and share God's word.

And Daniel mentioned that you are reading through the book of Acts.

And so this morning's message is going to be centered on a question.

And that question is, what do you value?

It's a significant question.

And as we read the book of Acts, it's a fair question to ask,

because in the Acts, we see what the early church valued.

And we see what they endured and suffered because of what they valued.

Considering what you value is important,

because what you value motivates you.

It drives your choices.

It drives your behaviors.

It's what you apply the time that God gives you in this life toward.

It's what you use the biological and financial and physical resources

that God entrusted to your care for.

What you value most captivates you.

Jesus told us what we value and what we do and what we seek to acquire

paints a picture of who we are.

It reveals what we worship.

And as we read through the Acts,

it's significant to note what the church clearly identifies

as their highest priority, their greatest value.

And we might note how that was evident in their Acts.

Acts are significant.

They are important in the book of Acts.

Jesus warns us,

some of us will be pretenders.

Some of us will claim to believe.

Some of us will call out to him,

Lord, Lord,

cloaked in a Christ-likeness.

But when it comes right down to it,

when push comes to shove,

he tells us that far too many,

even most of us,

though claiming to be of Christ,

will value the ways,

the ideals,

the ambitions of the world above Jesus.

It will be evident,

he told us,

in our Acts.

Among Jesus' followers,

I believe,

is more than a mere statement.

It is a way of life that is obvious to everyone around them.

The Acts,

the fruits,

the outcomes of their Christian lives

will leave no doubt of their Christian belief.

No doubt about what,

or more precisely,

who they value.

And you know,

as much as we might try to say otherwise,

our belief is actually revealed in actions

driven by our choices

and motivated by what we truly value.

We bear witness of this truth

as we read through the book of Acts.

You see,

in those early days,

Jesus and his church were an outrage,

a ridiculous religious parody,

a heresy,

a scandalous contradiction

of Roman interest

and Roman values.

In Rome,

Jesus' followers were ridiculed.

There's a bit of graffiti.

You can find it on the internet.

And it's graffiti that is mocking a man

called Alexa Menos,

a Christian worshipping his crucified God,

which is depicted as a donkey.

Then and now,

life was hard.

It was expensive to just get by.

Raising a family was demanding.

Building a home was tough.

Eking out a living was grueling.

Making ends meet was a challenge.

Life could be dangerous.

And you know,

it was heartbreaking.

Cultural rejection,

political marginalization,

social persecution,

and economic exclusion

are not just recent phenomenon

faced by Christians.

these persecutions have endured,

have been endured by the church

from its very beginning.

And in the face of all this,

Jesus doesn't just say,

hey,

keep your head down.

Take care of yourself.

Do what you can.

Look out for you and yours.

Seek your fortune.

Make your name.

Instead,

he says,

you will love the Lord your God

and you will love others.

You will serve them

and even suffer

and die for them.

You will put their needs

and their well-being

ahead of you

and your own.

And you will care

for their eternal life.

Why?

Because you love the Lord your God

and you know God's love

for others

and his eternal value

of them.

And when you love,

your belief in God

is obvious

because you value

what God values

and the acts of your life

will reveal that truth.

Thy will be done.

We pray it.

We pray it every week.

The word will

is a broad word.

It's a big word.

It's expansive.

We are praying

that what God values

and desires about anything

will be fulfilled

and scripture

is clear.

What God desires

is the restoration

of his people

to himself

in that beautiful

free relationship

he created

and chose for himself

and his people.

A relationship

we call love.

So in Acts,

we encounter a conflict.

A conflict between

value systems.

Between lives lived,

inspired,

and ordered

by biblical divine love

and lives centered

on the preservation

of self,

the elevation of self,

the idolatry of self,

the worship of self,

what the Romans

called dignitas.

In Roman society,

the word dignitas

characterized

the highest ideal

of life,

the very object

and objective

of life.

Dignitas,

valued authority

and wealth accumulation

and physical power

and influence

and self-reliance

and prestige

and charisma.

It was about

commanding dominance

and demanding respect,

being admired

and imposing

your will.

But Jesus said,

it's simply

not that way

among my followers.

it won't be that way

among you.

So this Jesus,

this Jesus who shunned,

being made a king,

who spurned comfort

and luxury

and treasure,

who gave up self

and home

and family,

who prayed,

let thy will,

not my will,

be done,

who would not make

long prayers

and sacrifices

for himself

and his own benefit,

but instead

sacrificed himself

so that others

might come

to know God

and to love God.

That Jesus,

then,

as he is so often now,

was an absurdity,

a caricature,

an utter failure,

a delusion,

a donkey,

crucified on a Roman cross.

Today,

in Acts,

we read

of the first

few days

when this

Christian way,

the Christian gospel,

had reached

Philippi,

a city

on the very doorstep

of what

is today

modern Europe.

Philippi

was a capital city,

a center

of Roman culture,

of Roman commerce,

of Roman influence,

of Roman government,

a center

of worldly pride,

and of Roman

dignitas.

When Julius Caesar

was assassinated,

his adopted son,

Octavian,

defeated the armies

of the assassins

at Philippi,

initiating the golden age

of the Roman Empire.

He conquered,

he became

Caesar Augustus

at Philippi.

Philippi

was a monument

to his dignitas,

a dignitas

forged

by his iron fist

and maintained

by the fear

of Rome.

Much,

Octavian said,

could be accomplished

under him.

Build your name,

seek your fortune,

establish your

family dynasty,

but pay

your tax

and offer

your tribute

and worship

Caesar Augustus

or else.

In the shadow

of Caesar Augustus,

you could claim

your own

muted form

of dignitas.

What we read

in Acts

this morning

was the arrival

of the Evangelical

Church

in Philippi.

Not great armies,

not big enterprises,

nor an elegant

emissaries,

but four guys.

four travel-wearied

guys

wandering along

a riverbank

encountering

a small group

of women.

And one of these

guys,

Paul,

had been hopping

from city to city

in recent times.

In Damascus,

his own people,

the Jews,

had plotted

to kill him

because of the chaos

he had caused

by all his

wild Jesus talk.

You know,

Paul was once

an up-and-coming

leader,

an admired scholar,

a respected citizen,

a defender

of the Jewish faith.

But now,

Paul was a

despised idolater,

and worse,

worse,

he was a Christian.

He lost everything

because of this Jesus,

and he was now

trying to convince us

of how much

he'd gained.

On Cyprus,

he had confronted

a mystical cult

of a man

called Elimus.

At the mention

of Jesus' name,

that Elimus

was blinded.

His physical reality

brought into alignment

with his spiritual darkness.

The proconsul there

had converted.

His eyes were opened

and stepped into the light.

Love God.

Love each other.

Seek first

the kingdom of God.

Don't store up

for yourself

resting treasures.

Use the resources

that God

has entrusted

for you

for God's glory,

not for your own

personal dignitas.

And you know what?

Even as I say

these words,

I feel the anxiety.

There has to be

another way.

Surely,

our modern

Canadian dignitas

and divine love

can somehow

coexist.

But that anxiety

that I feel

and that I know

many feel

begs the question,

what do you value?

Honestly,

what do we value?

And you know,

God sees into our hearts.

He knows the answer.

He knows what drives us.

He won't be deceived.

He knows the struggle

between love

and dignitas.

He knows how it will

play out in you

and among us.

You know the unbelievers?

The unbelievers

will have all the toys

and trinkets

and trappings

of prosperity.

They'll have all the bells

and whistles of a good life.

The big house,

the condo,

the cottage,

the best tech,

the car,

the boat,

whatever else.

Because that's what

they value.

That's what they chase.

But the Christian asks,

what motivates me?

What drives me?

What do I truly value?

The early Christians

faced the same realities

as we do.

And they faced

the same implications

of belief

and worse.

They faced

the iron fist

of Rome.

In Acts,

these are the Christians

that we meet.

In Antioch,

Paul had caused

a near riot

as the whole city

heard him speak.

And when their golden ambitions

were threatened,

the influential women

and the men of Antioch

rose up

and chased that Paul

and his Jesus

out of town.

In Iconium,

again,

Jews and Gentiles

heard the truth.

And yes,

some came to believe.

But again,

disputes and divisions

and conflicts

arose

as this Jesus movement

challenged

their status quo.

And again,

Paul ran

for his life.

But now,

I imagine,

Paul was beginning

to wrestle

with the question,

why exactly

am I running?

What do I fear?

What do I believe?

What do I value?

The idols

of self-preservation.

Is that

what I'm clinging to?

See,

Paul was just

a guy.

He was just

a person like us,

flesh and blood.

He had nothing.

He gave up

career

and business

and academia

and prestige

and family.

He was on the run.

Did he have moments

when he pled

with God?

Surely,

God,

after all I have done,

I deserve

better than this.

At Lystra,

Paul resisted

the paganization

of the gospel.

It was a religious

commercialism

of sorts,

a prosperity gospel

that would just

fold Christianity

into a vibrant

local culture,

just another ethic

to sample

in pursuit

of dignitas.

when Paul

adamantly

opposed this

and more intensely

and precisely

declared the gospel

again.

Again,

the religious

and secular leaders

twisted the Christian

claims

of a unique,

exclusive truth

into an offense

against

the tolerant

social fabric

of Lystra.

And again,

people were incensed.

They forced him

outside the city,

stoned him,

and left him

for dead.

You can hear

the echoes

of Christ's word.

I will show him

how much he must

suffer for the sake

of my name.

And you cannot

serve two masters.

Who do you serve?

What motivates you?

What do you value?

Persecution takes

many forms,

from marginalization

to murder,

from economic oppression

to criminal

incarceration.

I wonder

how many of us,

for the sake

of peace

at home

or work

or school

or in the community,

to avoid

rocking the boat

and the consequences

of following

Jesus openly,

just kind of

quietly go along

to get along.

Religion,

we convince ourselves,

is a private matter.

I have a personal

faith.

I have a personal

savior.

I am saved.

It is well

with me.

But that's not

really the gospel,

is it?

It's all true.

But it's not

the way,

it's not the work

that we're called

into.

In a way,

it is a modern

dignitas.

Standing firm

and standing up

is not easy.

It's costly.

It's the way

every Christ follower

is called to.

Paul was dragged

outside of Lystra

and he was left

for dead.

So you know,

he returned to Antioch

and he just decided

that enough

was enough.

He needed to look

after himself.

He needed to heal

his body and soul.

He needed to build

a home and a plan

for his old age.

Surely he reasoned

that's what God

desires for me.

It's his goodness.

It's his blessing

on me.

And all of that

that I just said

was nonsense.

Total nonsense.

Of course Paul

didn't think any

of that.

He was a Christian.

He and those

who had been with him

gathered the church

together.

They declared

all that God

had done with them

and how God

had used them

and opened the door

of faith

to the Gentiles.

I can imagine

them saying,

you know,

they practically

killed me.

But you see them

over there?

You see those

folks?

They were pagan

Gentiles.

But now,

they're pagan

no more.

They loved God.

And the church

prepared for the

next mission

into hostile

territory,

a mission that

would lead

to Philippi.

So,

as we read,

Paul,

Silas,

and Timothy

have approached

a small group

of women

praying by a river

and as they spoke,

God moved in the

heart of Lydia

and she sees

and she believes

in the Christ

that Paul and

his team

are speaking

of.

And that's

how God

has chosen

to work

through his

people speaking.

Paul was

doing what

Christ Jesus

asks of every

single one

of his faithful

followers.

He was doing

what Jesus

asks of you.

What Jesus

commissioned his

church,

that's you,

to do.

What Jesus

planted this

congregation,

again,

that's you,

to do.

Every single

day of your

life offers

multiple opportunities

to share the

gospel,

to celebrate

Jesus,

to talk about

him,

and so to

respond to

the commission

that he has

given each of

you.

The commission

you stepped

into on your

baptism to go

and make

disciples of

Jesus,

immersing them

in the knowledge

of who God

is,

and to go

and speak,

to tell

them about

Jesus.

When Paul

spoke,

God opened

the eyes of

Lydia's heart

and she saw

and received

Jesus.

She and the

whole household

entrusted to

her care

came to

faith in

Jesus.

Wayne Gretzky,

how's that for

transition?

Wayne Gretzky

once said,

he missed

every single

shot that he

failed to

take.

And every

time we

fail to

speak,

when we

are given

a God-given

opportunity,

we miss the

mark.

We miss the

opportunity that

God gave us

to reveal him

and to watch

him work.

Paul spoke,

God moved

in the heart

of Lydia,

and you know,

this was no

small thing.

Lydia was

a business

person,

and her

product was

extremely

expensive,

so her

clientele would

be among the

mega-rich,

the social

elites.

Lydia would

have been the

equivalent of

a modern-day

Paris or New

York fashion

designer,

mixing with

the rich and

the famous,

mingling with

the latest

sensual cults

in the temple

spas,

moving among

celebrations of

human ecstasy

in the shrines

where the

bounds of

respectable

depravity were

pushed.

That's where

she plied her

purple.

And you can

imagine the

gossip that

week after

her conversion,

you know,

the prestigious

purveyor of

purple passes

on the feast

of Dionysus,

house of

purple awash

in Christian

red.

You can hear

her associates,

girl, girl,

what are you

doing?

What are you

doing hanging

out with those

Christians?

Don't get

caught up in

their nets.

We might like

to imagine

that Lydia

just carried

on business

as usual.

We like to

believe the

things that we

wish were

true, but you

know, it's

simply not

possible.

In Christ,

Lydia was no

longer of

Caesar.

As she

entered the

river and

was baptized,

she crossed

her own

Rubicon.

We cannot

serve two

masters.

We cannot

worship two

gods.

her life

would change.

Paul sees

the burden

building.

It all

happened so

fast in the

twinkling of

an eye.

And so in

his compassion,

it seems that

he's trying to

give Lydia a

little bit of

space.

But Lydia,

her heart

open to

Jesus is

having none

of it.

It's almost

like she

prevails on

them and

says, you

know, we're

in this

together.

She opens

her home and

her heart to

them.

because belief

in Jesus

Christ looks

like something.

It looks

fearless.

It stands in

the light.

It's generous.

It's

compassionate.

It's

self-expending.

It's

selfless.

It goes

into the

public square.

It goes

into the

marketplace.

It goes

into the

halls of

justice and

into the

houses of

government.

And it

does not

ever hide

in the

shadow,

nor is it

reserved for

merely private

moments.

being Christian

looks like

Jesus,

steadfast in

the face of

any cost or

any persecution.

Today, we

see something

of Jesus in

Lydia.

So next,

Paul and

his group

hanging out

in Philippi

and they're

being heckled

by this

slave girl.

And you

know how it

goes.

The stain of

Lydia's

conversion is

spreading through

the town and

the hucksters.

You know,

they seek to

capitalize.

You worship

the most high

God,

a slave girl,

mocks Paul

and his

friends.

Acts tells us

this girl had

a spirit or

a nature.

In Greek,

it says,

of python,

of a snake,

of a deceiver,

of a purveyor

of divination.

She wraps you

in her coil,

she squeezes you

for all your

worth,

and she

destroys you.

But notice

this,

this supposed

prophetess says

nothing mysterious

or particularly

unknown.

Lydia's story

was surely

rattling through

the gossip

chains of the

city,

and Paul's

mission was

no secret.

But the girl

had a reputation,

so through her

voice,

mere statements

of truth take

on some kind

of sinister

tone of

divination.

question.

Why?

Why do we

so easily

give ourselves

over to the

deceit and

nonsense of

the occult?

And look at

All Hallows'

Eve, look how

it's been

appropriated by

secular culture,

a precious

Christian time,

now deeply

and darkly

overshadowed.

There's nothing

like a public

accusation and

a titillating

conflict to

promote a

psychic fraud.

You think

your Jesus is

the only way

to heaven,

you think

your Jesus

is the only

truth,

so you think

he's right

and everyone

else is wrong,

your way is

the only way,

what makes

you so sure

of yourself?

What makes

you so

privileged?

Her supposed

prognostications

had made

this slave

girl's owners

a ton of

cash.

So when Paul

had finally

had enough,

he spoke

the name of

Jesus at

which darkness

must flee,

at which evil

and deceit

must flee

and in

Jesus'

name he

commanded it

to just

stop and

get lost.

And immediately

the slave

girl's income

generating potential

evaporated.

How many

claim Christ

as king

just so long

as he can

share the

reign over

their lives

with cash?

And you know

cash is

alluring.

It's an

alluring king

who has long

ruled over the

human heart.

And the

moment this

Jesus disrupts

the marketplace,

that's when

he's gone

too far.

First Lydia,

now the

girl.

This Jesus

must go.

Paul and

his friends

must be made

an example

of.

The lies

are concocted,

the prosecutions

are fabricated,

the Roman

lictors,

the local

judges who

exact punishment

were all too

happy to

wield their

rods,

the symbols

of their

office,

to bloody

these Christians

and to beat

this Jesus

nonsense out

of them.

And note

how Paul

responds.

Does he

renounce his

faith?

No.

Does he

capitulate

and plead

with these

secular

authorities

for leniency?

Does he

complain to

God about

the injustice

of it all?

Surely God

I deserve

better?

Isn't that

what you

promised?

Does he

cry out

for God's

wrath to

rain down

upon his

abusers?

No.

Just the

opposite.

He absorbs

the loss.

He tolerates

the intolerance.

He sings

through suffering.

He praises

through pain

and he prays

for his

persecutors

and his

prison guards.

He trusts

God with

his trauma.

And again,

God acts.

He breaks

their bonds

and bursts

their prison

wide open.

Paul sees

the opportunity,

not his

freedom,

but the

chance

to see

that

jailer

freed.

You see,

suddenly

everything

has flipped.

It's the

jailer

who's

threatened

and traumatized.

Surely

his prisoners

have escaped

and now

he's the

one in

fear of

Roman

justice.

He'd

rather kill

himself

than face

what Paul

had just

endured at

his hands.

But that

ridiculous

Christian,

that Paul,

and those

prisoners

immersed in

prayers and

surrounded by

the praises

of God,

they honored

God by

living love

in an

abundance of

integrity and

compassion and

generosity even

for this

abusive jailer.

They don't

just seek their

personal freedom

in the darkness

through those

open doors.

Most every

criminal would

run given

such a chance,

but not

those

Christians.

He stood

firmly,

integrity,

compassion,

love.

We're all

here, he

said.

Impossible.

Impossible.

Yet, the

jailer saw

him.

There he

stood.

What else

would Paul

do?

God moved

in the

jailer.

The

encrusted

stone and

the iron

chains that

had held

the jailer's

heart captive

were burst.

The door

of grace

flung open

and that

jailer stepped

into the

light.

And again,

we see the

wondrous response

to love.

We see

repentance.

We see

restoration.

We see

compassion and

generosity.

In Paul and

in this

ridiculous,

awesome way

of the cross,

that jailer

met Jesus.

Paul would

later write

its foolishness

to the Greeks,

but its wisdom

given by God

for his

kingdom's

advancement

and for

gospel growth.

The man

was changed

and like

Lydia,

his whole

house was

opened and

there was an

abundance of

compassion,

an expression

of Christian

love.

Enemies

became brothers

and through

it all,

another family

came to

know Jesus.

The jailer

had asked,

what must I

do to be

saved?

The answer,

believe.

And believe

in a way

that is seen

in the way

you live.

Live a

belief that

is seen

in your

acts.

His belief

too looked

like something.

It looked

like Jesus

steadfast

even in

the face

of dire

consequences.

Without

this jailer's

sacrifice

and homage

to Caesar

Augustus,

this jailer

would simply

not be

tolerated.

His life

would be

at risk,

his family

would be

upended.

Sacrifices

and worship

of Caesar

Augustus

were required

of him

as a Roman

official.

They were a

condition of

his employment.

We are not

told how he

fared,

but to imagine

he lived

somehow

consequence

free.

No member

of the early

church,

knowing Rome

as they

did,

would make

that mistake.

This

conversion

would be

a marvel

of surrender

and sacrifice

and a mighty

testimony

to the

gospel.

So finally,

note what

happens when

those Roman

lictors are

confronted

by the

truth.

In fear,

they offer

a quiet

appeasement.

Just let

them go.

Let them

go.

Get them

out of

here.

But then

there's that

Paul again,

that Christian.

No way,

he says.

He claims

the public

square.

You condemned

me in public.

Now admit

your grievous

error in

public.

You've seen

the hand

of the

Most High

God,

to whom

even Octavian

Caesar

Augustus

will bend

his knee.

So now

let everyone

bear witness

of the acts

of this

one true

God.

Bear witness

of his

truth,

his gospel,

and the

way of

his Christ.

Bear witness

of him

who vibrantly

inspired Lydia,

who silenced

the Satan

in the slave

girl,

who captivated

the jailer,

and who set

his followers

free.

Paul had

suffered as a

Christian,

celebrating,

praising,

praying,

and singing

to God.

God.

And now

he stood

in the

public

square,

in the

marketplace,

in the

face of

government

and Roman

justice,

and in

the dungeon

doing exactly

what Christ

Jesus had

asked of

him,

and what

he asks

of each

of us.

He believed.

He valued

God.

He loved

God.

And it was

obvious,

and it

shaped his

acts.

In

believing,

Lydia and

that jailer

valued Christ,

and it

shaped their

acts.

In

Philippi,

God changed

hearts and

restored people

to eternal

life.

Homes and

families were

changed.

A church

was planted.

Years later,

Paul would

write that

church,

and he

would tell

them of his

ministry in

Rome,

his mission

to the

imperial

guard.

He would

write of

his

imprisonment

and his

evangelism

of a

whole new

group of

abusers,

liars,

persecutors,

prosecutors,

and jailers.

And I

can't help

but wonder,

as the

Philippians

read that

letter that

he had

written to

them from

a Roman

prisoner,

what they

would remember

as they

read,

describing how

he again

was suffering

in a jail.

and still

he was

advancing the

gospel.

You are

partakers

with me

of grace,

Paul wrote,

both in

my imprisonment

and in

the defense

and confirmation

of the

gospel.

It is my

prayer that

your love

may abound

more and

more with

knowledge and

all discernment

so that you

may approve

what is

excellent and

so be pure

and blameless

for the

day of

Christ,

filled with

the fruit

of righteousness

that comes

through Jesus

Christ to

the glory and

praise of

God.

Today,

as you

remember your

first three

years of

ministry together

as a

congregation in

this capital

of Canada,

let Paul's

prayer to

that church

planted in

Philippi,

a capital,

a leading

city of

another nation,

be my

prayer for

each of

you and

all of

you.

My hope

is you

will be

the church

boldly

standing in

the public

square,

fearlessly

standing in

the marketplace,

leaving no

doubt in

the halls of

justice and

the houses

of government

that Christ

alone is

your king

and that you

will serve

him with

everything

entrusted to

you from

the breath

you just

took to

the home

you inhabit

to the

abilities and

education and

bodies and

you use to

produce incomes

to the

resources placed

in your

hands to

the very

lives he

invested in

you to

the spirit

that he

breathed into

you.

I pray you

will love

him with

your whole

heart,

that you

will value

him above

all and

so be

his church.

Will you

pray with

me?

Amen.

Amen.

Amen.

Amen.

Amen.

Amen.

Amen.

Amen.

Amen.

Amen.

Amen.

Amen.

Amen.

Amen.

Amen.

Amen.

Amen.

Holy God,

it is all

about you.

You are the

beginning and

the end,

the Alpha and

the Omega.

For those who

believe,

you are the

center of

every hope,

of every

dream,

of every

ambition,

of every

motivation.

Give us

eyes that

seek only

you.

Give us

ears that

strain to

hear your

truth.

Give us

hearts,

hearts that

desire only

you,

hearts that

value

you.

give us a voice that speaks courageously

let us be as steadfast as Jesus Christ was

steadfast even in the face of trials

persecution death on a cross

let your love abound more and more

with knowledge and all discernment among your people

gathered here today

give them the mindset of Christ

so that they may approve what is excellent in your eyes

and so be pure and blameless for the day of Christ

filled with the fruit of righteousness

that comes through the knowledge and love of Jesus

God the Son

our only true Lord

our only King

to the glory and praise of you we live in Christ alone

Amen