"Passion for God's House"

Have you ever done something with such zeal that you felt like you gave yourself to it completely, no matter what it cost? These are the moments when the Spirit is flowing and you feel like you are so at one with what you’re doing that there’s no difference between the doer and the thing done. I remember once when I was preaching, I had a kidney stone attack. I agonized through the sermon, toughing it out through the pain, yet I had such zeal for what I was doing that it ended up being one of my best, most fiery sermons. Sometimes we get carried away in our zeal, and the result is that God does something great.

In the second chapter of John’s gospel, we read about an incident where Jesus demonstrated his zeal in such a way that God did something great. It reminded the disciples of a prophecy from the Scriptures, “Passion for God’s house will consume me (John 2:17 // Psalm 69:9).” What did Jesus do that causes such a stir? Verses 13-16[i] say:

It was nearly time for the Jewish Passover celebration, so Jesus went to Jerusalem. In the Temple area he saw merchants selling cattle, sheep, and doves for sacrifices; he also saw dealers at tables exchanging foreign money. Jesus made a whip from some ropes and chased them all out of the Temple. He drove out the sheep and cattle, scattered the money changers’ coins over the floor, and turned over their tables. Then, going over to the people who sold doves, he told them, “Get these things out of here. Stop turning my Father’s house into a marketplace!”

First, we have to understand what this story isn’t about, before we can appreciate what it really is about. This story isn’t about fundraising in the Temple. I’ve heard a lot of people who have used this passage of scripture to promote the idea that it’s wrong to do church fundraisers on church grounds. Such ideas prohibit yard sales, bake sales, Brunswick stews, on church property, because the church property is seen as to be too holy for such activities. In reality, this wasn’t Jesus’ issue at all. To make it easier for people to purchase animals for sacrifice, animal vendors were allowed on Temple property. Money changers were necessary because Roman coins weren’t allowed in the Temple—so purchases had to be made with Temple shekels. These transactions had to be made so that people who couldn’t raise their own sacrificial animals might have animals to offer God. So Jesus didn’t object to the presence of moneychangers or vendors in the Temple. If not this, then what did Jesus get upset about?

First, the moneychangers were offering an unfair exchange rate, making a huge profit and off a religious practice that was required by Law. Second, the vendors were likewise charging too much money for their livestock. Third, their setup was blocking the Court of the Gentiles, so that the outsiders—perhaps those who needed God the most—weren’t able to come in. For this reason, Jesus couldn’t help himself. He had to do something, regardless of the risk. He got carried away for the sake of God’s house, and the result was that God did something great.

However, sometimes we can become so zealous that we actually cause harm. Halford Lucock says, "I was impressed several years ago when I read that Eugene Ormandy dislocated a shoulder while directing the Philadelphia Orchestra. I do not know what they were playing, but he was giving all of himself to it!"[ii] Ormandy’s zeal was, quite literally, his undoing. One translation of John 2:17 is, “Concern for God’s house will be my undoing[iii].” So, I guess we need to ask ourselves whether our zeal for God’s house is something that might be painful yet constructive, or whether it could be something that undoes us or even undoes the church.

How could zeal for God’s house be destructive instead of constructive? When the physical church building becomes more important than the people inside. When the people on the inside become more important than the people on the outside. When our reverence from policies and procedures prevents real ministry. When we become more concerned about the forms of worship than either the One we worship or the needs of the worshipers. When the way we’ve always done it before keeps us back from the way God wants to do it in the future. This type of zeal undoes us, undoes others, and undoes the church. And I’ll say boldly that this is a large part of the reason why churches are in decline today. Too many people are zealous for God’s house, but they’re zealous for the wrong things!

To be sure, Jesus’ zeal certainly was destructive—but it tore down obstacles to worship, and also built people up. It created equal access to God for everybody. It exposed those who were in the Temple because it was a business or a show or just a habit. Certainly, it didn’t win Jesus any admirers when He overturned the tables. From the beginning of Jesus’ ministry, His actions began to overturn the status quo. In the same way, we’ve got to let zeal for God’s house consume us. We’ve got to put our own needs and wants last, letting our egos be undone rather than allowing our agendas to cause the undoing of the church. We’ve got to be able to say, “Passion for God’s house will consume me!” Then, allowing it to consume us totally, we need to get out of the way and let God do something great.

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[i] All scriptures taken from the NLT.

[ii] Progress Magazine, December 31, 1992.  http://www.sermonillustrations.com/a-z/z/zeal.htm.  September 29, 2016.

[iii] NLT footnotes

"A Point of Emptiness"

I used to preach with PowerPoint. Not like I do now, with just the scripture on the screen so people can see it, but also with intricately designed slides full of outlines, diagrams, and artwork that illustrated each point. I have always spent a lot of time in sermon preparation because I believe the Holy Spirit honors good planning. But I think in those days I spent more time on the PowerPoint presentation than on the sermon. Any given sermon might have twenty slides to click through, not including the scripture. The story of the Prodigal Son could have a picture of a father embracing his son. A sermon on giving might feature scattered images of pots of gold, people holding their wallets and shrugging, or empty offering plates. The audio-visual team downloaded the sermon on Sunday morning and clicked through it, and I moved through the slides on my tablet at the pulpit. Then one Sunday something went wrong. From a technical perspective, I don't know to this day what happened, but the effect was that the message was gone and could not be retrieved, either from the sanctuary computer or my tablet. So during Sunday School I had to scramble to re-create the sermon from memory, and preach without PowerPoint as a prop. Know what happened? It turned out better than it did before. I had to start over in order for the message to be what it needed to be. I had put in a lot of my own effort, but I believe God used technology problems to show me that I had to get to a point of my own emptiness and say, “Now what, God?” Then, and only then, the Spirit could flow within me.

In the second chapter of John’s gospel, we see three points of emptiness that needed to come together in order to create a miracle at the wedding of Cana. We find emptiness in the wine cups, Jesus' openness in a time that was not yet full, and the stone jars. For Jesus, emptiness is not a problem, but it is the raw material God uses to work wonders. Richard Rohr writes: 

"When we are nothing, we are in a fine position to receive everything from God. As Merton says…, our point of nothingness is 'the pure glory of God in us.' If we look at the great religious traditions, we see they all use similar words to point in the same direction. The Franciscan word is "poverty." The Carmelite word is nada or "nothingness." ...Jesus speaks of being "poor in spirit" in his very first beatitude."[i]

At Cana, the first point of emptiness was found at the bottom of the guests’ wine cups. Psalm 104:15 says that wine makes people’s hearts glad, making it clear that in this story the wine represents joy. It’s not until the people’s cups are empty that Jesus can make new wine and fill them again. In the same way, when our lives are joyless, it’s often not until we reach a point of emptiness that we are prepared to let Jesus fill us. Too often we are so full of ourselves that there’s no room for Jesus’ joy. Only when we empty ourselves of our selves can there be enough room for a miracle of gladness.

The next point of emptiness comes in Jesus’ openness in a time that was not yet full. Paul Masson’s slogan used to be, “We will sell no wine before its time.” Jesus would have had a similar slogan, but for the insistence of Mary. Verses3-4[ii] say, “The wine supply ran out during the festivities, so Jesus’ mother told him, ‘They have no more wine.’ ‘Dear woman, that’s not our problem,’ Jesus replied. ‘My time has not yet come.’” When the Bible talks about time being “full” it means an occasion when all things are ready in order for a significant event to happen. Jesus was saying that his time wasn’t full—in fact, it was empty. Yet, though He wasn’t yet ready to act, He was open to consider that there might be a bigger plan unfolding. This is why He was willing to relax His grip on His own self-determination, and empty Himself of His ego. In this emptiness, He allowed His empty heart and hands to be filled in order to do God’s will. When we make ourselves similarly open, great things can happen in our lives.

The final point of emptiness is found in the great jars that Jesus used to turn water into wine. Made of stone and used for ritual purification, these vessels represented the Old Testament Law which, in its emptiness, was unable to bring joy and fulfillment to God’s people. Yet it’s when we come to the bottom of the Law and realize that it cannot save, that’s when we recognize our need for a Savior. Without emptiness, we can’t come to the point of being ready for God to fill us. But when we allow God to replace our cold, stony religion with the living water of true faith, transformation can happen. Only emptiness can make us ready to receive this kind of miracle.

The great composer Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827) lived much of his life in fear of deafness. He was concerned because he felt the sense of hearing was essential to creating music of lasting value.

When Beethoven discovered that the thing he feared most was coming rapidly upon him, he was almost frantic with anxiety. He consulted doctors and tried every possible remedy. But the deafness increased until at last all hearing was gone.

 Beethoven finally found the strength he needed to go on despite his great loss. To everyone's amazement, he wrote some of his grandest music after he became totally deaf. With all distractions shut out, melodies flooded in on him as fast as his pen could write them down. His deafness became a great asset.[iii]

I wonder, what areas of your own life feel empty right now? Do you feel drained, like the bottom of a cup where the joy is gone? Do you feel unready for the next big thing, unsure of yourself, and unwilling to step into the unknown? Have you reached the bottom of religion and found nothing but cold empty stone? Perhaps it’s just this point of emptiness that you need, in order for God to do a miracle. Hope is found in emptiness. In Genesis 1:2, we read, “The earth was formless and empty, and darkness covered the deep waters. And the Spirit of God was hovering over the surface of the waters.” First, there had to be emptiness, before God could create. If you’re at a point of emptiness, remember that God’s spirit is hovering over you still, ready to make something new. As long as you’re full of yourself, you can’t be filled by God. But when you’re empty, there’s room for God to work wonders. I pray that when you reach a point of emptiness, you’ll see it as a good thing instead of bad, and that you’ll then open your heart and hands for God to do something new.

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[i] Richard Rohr's Devotion: A Point of Nothingness.  Friday, August 5, 2016.  Adapted from Richard Rohr, Everything Belongs: The Gift of Contemplative Prayer (Crossroad Publishing: 1999, 2003), 76-78.

[ii] All scriptures taken from the NLT.

[iii] Daily Walk, August 9, 1993. http://www.sermonillustrations.com/a-z/l/loss.htm. September 22, 2016. 

"Who Am I?"

There comes a time in life when each of us must decide exactly who we are. What kind of man or woman will we be? Will we do the easy thing, or the right thing? Will we choose convenience, or conscience? Will we choose to follow our egos or the Spirit of God? There comes a time when we need to ask, “Who am I?” In John 1:19-51, we encounter several men who had to ask themselves the same question.

John the Baptist was faced with a moment like this as well. His ministry was going so well that crowds of people were coming to him, to listen to his preaching and to be immersed in the Jordan. I wish my church could report baptism records like his, to our denominational office! God was moving. People saw what John was doing, and they wanted to be part of it. People had such high expectations of him that many thought he could be the coming Christ. Verses 19-20[i] say, “This was John’s testimony when the Jewish leaders sent priests and Temple assistants from Jerusalem to ask John, ‘Who are you?’ He came right out and said, ‘I am not the Messiah.’”

John was humble enough to know who he was NOT. John gained this knowledge of who he wasn’t, long before this encounter with the Jewish leaders. The son of Zechariah the Levite, John would have been expected to follow in a long line of priests, when he came of age. Yet, despite the honor of this calling, John rejected people’s expectations because he knew who he was not. He might have been a Levite, but he was no priest. And nothing that anybody could do could make him into an effective one. This reminds me of a story in Today the Word: “An interesting cartoon shows a fourth-grade boy standing toe-to-toe and nose-to-nose with his teacher. Behind them stares a blackboard covered with math problems the boy hasn't finished. With rare perception the boy says, ‘I'm not an underachiever, you're an overexpecter!’"[ii] I’m the same way: In school, nobody could ever have convinced me that I was meant to be a mathematician. In order to know what you can be, you have to know what you aren’t. John knew that he wasn’t a priest, and that nobody should be able to put that on him with their expectations.

John also knew not to be driven by his own ego—that it was more important to be who God wanted him to be, than it was to be some grandiose image of himself. No matter what people were telling him, he didn’t let it go to his head. He knew he wasn’t the Messiah. God had different plans for him, which were also good, even though they weren’t as glorious. Part of discovering who you are, is realizing who you aren’t.

It’s important to understand that John’s lack of ego wasn’t a self-esteem problem. It was humility. He did have a good sense of who he was. The leaders asked, “Then who are you…What do you have to say about yourself?” John replied in the words of the prophet Isaiah: ‘I am a voice shouting in the wilderness, ‘Clear the way for the Lord’s coming (verses 22-23)!’” Later, John says something that sounds like self-esteem issues, but it’s really just John recognizing how special Jesus is, not how undeserving John is. “John told them, ‘I baptize with water, but right here in the crowd is someone you do not recognize. Though his ministry follows mine, I’m not even worthy to be his slave and untie the straps of his sandal (verses 26-27).” John understood who he was in the scope of God’s plan, and how that fit into who Jesus was. Verses 6-8 say, “God sent a man, John the Baptist, to tell about the light so that everyone might believe because of his testimony. John himself was not the light; he was simply a witness to tell about the light.” John understood who he was, and he did his job well, without expecting to be something that he was not.

Then we come to the story of Jesus calling the disciples. Again, the question of identity comes up. In verse 42, Jesus told one of them, “Your name is Simon, son of John—but you will be called Cephas” (which means “Peter”). When Jesus comes into your life, He changes you completely. As He changed Peter from a fisherman to a rock-solid leader of the church, so He changes us into who He wants us to be. After that, Jesus called Philip and Nathanael. Verses 47-49 say:

As they approached, Jesus said, “Now here is a genuine son of Israel—a man of complete integrity.”
“How do you know about me?” Nathanael asked.
Jesus replied, “I could see you under the fig tree before Philip found you.”
Then Nathanael exclaimed, “Rabbi, you are the Son of God—the King of Israel!”

Fig trees were known to be places of meditation and prayer. So Jesus is saying, “Look—I saw you speaking to My Father, and I can tell by that, what kind of man you are.” Jesus was saying, “You are the kind of man who seeks after God, so because of this, I want you to follow me.” Just as Jesus knew Nathanael’s true identity, God knows exactly who you are as well. Sometimes discovering the real YOU can be exciting and sometimes it can be frightening. But always it’s an adventure when Jesus calls.

So what about you? Who are you? I know it’s a pretty basic question—but it’s also a very deep one. “Who am I?” is more than just your name. It’s your identity in Christ. It’s your calling from God. It’s a sense of who you are to your very core. Your purpose. Your identity at heart-level. God has a plan for each one of us. God told Jeremiah the prophet, “I knew you before I formed you in your mother’s womb. Before you were born I set you apart (Jeremiah 1:5a).” God tells you the same thing. Finding your identity begins with knowing who you’re not. You are not other people’s expectations of you. Neither are you your over-inflated ego. Who are you? Maybe, like John, you’re in the wilderness of your life right now. Maybe you’re not the one who has all the right answers at the moment. But maybe—just maybe—you’re the one who’s asking the right questions. And that’s probably more important, anyway.

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[i] Scriptures taken from the NLT

[ii] Today in the Word, MBI, April, 1990, p. 30.  http://www.sermonillustrations.com/a-z/e/expectation.htm.  September 16, 2016.

"Who Am I?"

There comes a time in life when each of us must decide exactly who we are. What kind of man or woman will we be? Will we do the easy thing, or the right thing? Will we choose convenience, or conscience? Will we choose to follow our egos or the Spirit of God? There comes a time when we need to ask, “Who am I?” In John 1:19-51, we encounter several men who had to ask themselves the same question.

John the Baptist was faced with a moment like this as well. His ministry was going so well that crowds of people were coming to him, to listen to his preaching and to be immersed in the Jordan. I wish my church could report baptism records like his, to our denominational office! God was moving. People saw what John was doing, and they wanted to be part of it. People had such high expectations of him that many thought he could be the coming Christ. Verses 19-20[i] say, “This was John’s testimony when the Jewish leaders sent priests and Temple assistants from Jerusalem to ask John, ‘Who are you?’ He came right out and said, ‘I am not the Messiah.’”

John was humble enough to know who he was NOT. John gained this knowledge of who he wasn’t, long before this encounter with the Jewish leaders. The son of Zechariah the Levite, John would have been expected to follow in a long line of priests, when he came of age. Yet, despite the honor of this calling, John rejected people’s expectations because he knew who he was not. He might have been a Levite, but he was no priest. And nothing that anybody could do could make him into an effective one. This reminds me of a story in Today the Word: “An interesting cartoon shows a fourth-grade boy standing toe-to-toe and nose-to-nose with his teacher. Behind them stares a blackboard covered with math problems the boy hasn't finished. With rare perception the boy says, ‘I'm not an underachiever, you're an overexpecter!’"[ii] I’m the same way: In school, nobody could ever have convinced me that I was meant to be a mathematician. In order to know what you can be, you have to know what you aren’t. John knew that he wasn’t a priest, and that nobody should be able to put that on him with their expectations.

John also knew not to be driven by his own ego—that it was more important to be who God wanted him to be, than it was to be some grandiose image of himself. No matter what people were telling him, he didn’t let it go to his head. He knew he wasn’t the Messiah. God had different plans for him, which were also good, even though they weren’t as glorious. Part of discovering who you are, is realizing who you aren’t.

It’s important to understand that John’s lack of ego wasn’t a self-esteem problem. It was humility. He did have a good sense of who he was. The leaders asked, “Then who are you…What do you have to say about yourself?” John replied in the words of the prophet Isaiah: ‘I am a voice shouting in the wilderness, ‘Clear the way for the Lord’s coming (verses 22-23)!’” Later, John says something that sounds like self-esteem issues, but it’s really just John recognizing how special Jesus is, not how undeserving John is. “John told them, ‘I baptize with water, but right here in the crowd is someone you do not recognize. Though his ministry follows mine, I’m not even worthy to be his slave and untie the straps of his sandal (verses 26-27).” John understood who he was in the scope of God’s plan, and how that fit into who Jesus was. Verses 6-8 say, “God sent a man, John the Baptist, to tell about the light so that everyone might believe because of his testimony. John himself was not the light; he was simply a witness to tell about the light.” John understood who he was, and he did his job well, without expecting to be something that he was not.

Then we come to the story of Jesus calling the disciples. Again, the question of identity comes up. In verse 42, Jesus told one of them, “Your name is Simon, son of John—but you will be called Cephas” (which means “Peter”). When Jesus comes into your life, He changes you completely. As He changed Peter from a fisherman to a rock-solid leader of the church, so He changes us into who He wants us to be. After that, Jesus called Philip and Nathanael. Verses 47-49 say:

As they approached, Jesus said, “Now here is a genuine son of Israel—a man of complete integrity.”
“How do you know about me?” Nathanael asked.
Jesus replied, “I could see you under the fig tree before Philip found you.”
Then Nathanael exclaimed, “Rabbi, you are the Son of God—the King of Israel!”

Fig trees were known to be places of meditation and prayer. So Jesus is saying, “Look—I saw you speaking to My Father, and I can tell by that, what kind of man you are.” Jesus was saying, “You are the kind of man who seeks after God, so because of this, I want you to follow me.” Just as Jesus knew Nathanael’s true identity, God knows exactly who you are as well. Sometimes discovering the real YOU can be exciting and sometimes it can be frightening. But always it’s an adventure when Jesus calls.

So what about you? Who are you? I know it’s a pretty basic question—but it’s also a very deep one. “Who am I?” is more than just your name. It’s your identity in Christ. It’s your calling from God. It’s a sense of who you are to your very core. Your purpose. Your identity at heart-level. God has a plan for each one of us. God told Jeremiah the prophet, “I knew you before I formed you in your mother’s womb. Before you were born I set you apart (Jeremiah 1:5a).” God tells you the same thing. Finding your identity begins with knowing who you’re not. You are not other people’s expectations of you. Neither are you your over-inflated ego. Who are you? Maybe, like John, you’re in the wilderness of your life right now. Maybe you’re not the one who has all the right answers at the moment. But maybe—just maybe—you’re the one who’s asking the right questions. And that’s probably more important, anyway.

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[i] Scriptures taken from the NLT

[ii] Today in the Word, MBI, April, 1990, p. 30.  http://www.sermonillustrations.com/a-z/e/expectation.htm.  September 16, 2016.

"Light & Life"

Bob Woods tells the story of a couple who took their son, 11, and daughter, 7, to Carlsbad Caverns. As always, when the tour reached the deepest point in the cavern, the guide turned off all the lights to dramatize how completely dark and silent it is below the earth's surface. The little girl, suddenly enveloped in utter darkness, was frightened and began to cry. Immediately was heard the voice of her brother: "Don't cry. Somebody here knows how to turn on the lights." In a real sense, that is the message of the gospel: light is available, even when darkness seems overwhelming.[i]

This word, gospel, means “Good News.” To someone overwhelmed by darkness, turning on the light is very good news. To a world trapped in darkness, Jesus is that light. This article marks the beginning of an epic journey in which we explore the light of Jesus in the Gospel of John. The books about Jesus written by Matthew, Mark, and Luke are all called synoptic gospels because they make an effort to tell the Lord’s story in the order that each event happened. But the John’s gospel takes a different approach. Rather than designing his book to give a blow-by-blow account, John tells stories that make spiritual points about Jesus. Different from the other writers, John’s Jesus tells no parables and performs only seven miracles. John uses these miracles, and the arrangement of his narrative, to make theological statements about Jesus’ divinity and mission. John’s writing also tends toward a more mystical spirituality than the other gospels. While scholars debate whether the author was the actual apostle John, or a later community that developed around that disciple’s teaching, for the purpose of these articles we will simply refer to the writer as “John.” John actually states the purpose of his own book as follows: The disciples saw Jesus do many other miraculous signs in addition to the ones recorded in this book. But these are written so that you may continue to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that by believing in him you will have life by the power of his name (Jn 20:30-31[ii]).

John begins his book with a song that became famous in the early church as “The Hymn to the Logos.” Verses 1-5 say:

In the beginning the Word already existed. The Word was with God, and the Word was God. He existed in the beginning with God. God created everything through him, and nothing was created except through him. The Word gave life to everything that was created, and his life brought light to everyone. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness can never extinguish it.

Even though Christians refer to the Bible as The Word or The Word of God, John is not referring to the Bible here—The Bible didn’t even yet exist in its current form. For John, The Word is Christ. Though the traditional translation for logos is word, it can also be translated as an accounting, command, saying, statement, cause, or reason. I’m going to step out on a limb and paraphrase it as authority. Yes, Greek scholars will say that word is exousia and not logos, but Word falls far short, and command has too much sense of Old Testament Law. For me, authority expresses not only the fact that God spoke the world into being with words, but that God had the power to command it. Everything Jesus did, both in the act of creation and also in flesh, He did with the authority of God. That authority “became human and made his home among us. He was full of unfailing love and faithfulness. And we have seen his glory, the glory of the Father’s one and only Son (v. 14).”

Jesus isn’t just the authority of God that came to life in human flesh. He doesn’t just have life. Even greater than that, Jesus is life itself. Everything that lives, lives because of the life that Christ gives. Just as He gives life to our bodies, Jesus also gives light to our souls. Verses 12-13 say, “But to all who believed him and accepted him, he gave the right to become children of God. They are reborn—not with a physical birth resulting from human passion or plan, but a birth that comes from God.” All creatures are given physical life and light, but God gives eternal life and light to those who turn to the Word.

There are a lot of translations for the final phrase of verse 5 that says that darkness “can never extinguish [the light] (NLT); did not comprehend it (NASB); has never put it out (ISV); has not mastered it (NET); did not overcome it (HCSB); did not perceive it (YLT).” The Greek word in question is κατέλαβεν (katelaben). It means, literally, to aggressively take hold of, to seize with eager self-interest, to overtake, or apprehend, or make one's own. For that reason, I probably prefer the NET for this verse. No matter how much it tries, the darkness can never grasp the light of Christ. It can't grasp him intellectually. It can't fathom His beauty. It can't lay hold of him to control Him. It can't defeat Him. Darkness cannot dominate the light.

In the legends and histories of many cultures there are stories of emperors who don the clothing of peasants in order to walk among the common people, bestowing gifts and blessings. John begins his gospel by portraying Jesus in this way. Jesus is the authority of God, made flesh, and walking among us. Verses 16-17 say, “From his abundance we have all received one gracious blessing after another. For the law was given through Moses, but God’s unfailing love and faithfulness came through Jesus Christ.” As we begin our walk through the Gospel of John, we celebrate the love of God who not only created the world but cared enough to visit it and bring his light. Shedding light on the problem of sin, Jesus loved us enough to offer his eternal life to all who will receive it. “No one has ever seen God. But the unique One, who is himself God, is near to the Father’s heart. He has revealed God to us (v. 18).” I pray that as we embark on this journey together through the Gospel of John, that Christ would reveal God to you as well.

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[i] Bob Woods, Pulpit Digest.  http://www.sermonillustrations.com/a-z/g/gospel.htm.  September 9, 2016.

[ii] All scriptures taken from the NLT.