Good Friday, a wonderful day

Sermon for Good Friday

Isaiah 52:13-53:12  +  John 18:1-19:42

I recently reminded someone that Good Friday was coming up, and she said, “Oh, that’s the sad day—the day Jesus died.” But is that right? Is today a day when we remember with sadness that Jesus died? Would God have you be sad and mournful on this day? I’ll tell you the truth, the only ones who should mourn and be sad on this day are those who still will not repent of their sins, who do not believe in Jesus Christ and Him crucified as the atoning sacrifice for their sins. For them, as long as they remain in unbelief, this day is the harbinger of imminent judgment and condemnation. They should mourn and be sad, because Jesus is the world’s Savior. There is no other. Those who will not be saved by Him will not be saved at all. But for those who believe, this day holds no sadness. What it holds, is wonder. Good Friday is a wonderful day.

What’s not wonderful, what’s not surprising is that Jesus should be so hated and mistreated by His enemies, and so forsaken and abandoned by His friends. None of that should make us wonder in the least. It’s at the heart of the human condition. We see it all around us. And if we’re honest, we see it within ourselves. The hatred of God, disobedience toward God, the mistreatment of God’s servants, the sinful weakness of believers, too—those are ancient attributes of mankind, and all the wickedness and evil we witness in this world, whatever form they take, are symptoms of the same sickness that lies at the bottom of every single heart. Are you shocked, are you amazed, do you wonder at the appalling actions of ISIS or of other Muslim extremists? Do you wonder at the adamant support for homosexuality in our country and at the hatred those supporters display for anyone who expresses a Christian opinion? You shouldn’t wonder at that. Those things are symptoms of the same sickness that lives in you.

Evil comes in many forms. Yes, the Muslim religion is inherently evil. Yes, the whole LGBT movement is inherently evil, and to support it is just as evil. So is all sex outside of marriage. So is all the selfishness or anger displayed within a marriage. So is the lust of the heart that is never acted upon. So is every twisting of God’s Word into false doctrine. So is laziness. So is skipping church on a regular basis. So is snapping at your neighbor in frustration. So is exalting yourself above your neighbor in your heart. All of these are forms of evil, and there are many, many more forms as well. Not all of them destroy a society, but all of them earn God’s wrath and displeasure. All of them earn death for the sinner. And without the new birth that God has given to believers in Christ, without the power of the Holy Spirit to restrain it in believers, the sin that dwells in every human heart would eventually erupt into the same kind of degradation and wickedness and rebellion in everyone.

So when you hear how Judas betrayed Christ, how the Jews raged against Him and called for His crucifixion, when you hear how Pilate abandoned justice for the sake of expedience, when you hear how the religious leaders mocked Jesus, how the soldiers mocked Jesus and twisted together a crown of thorns for Him, when you hear how they tortured Him and nailed Him to a cross and rejoiced to see Him suffer, do not wonder at any of that, and do not imagine that they were any worse than anyone who has lived since. It’s just sin, on full display. This is what sin does. It rages against God and against all that is right and good while often pretending to be godly and religious. This is what sin does. It crucifies the Son of God.

No, the depth of the depravity of man is not the thing to wonder at on Good Friday. Instead, the wonderful thing is the depth of the grace of God, who gave His Son so that sinners like that, so that sinners like us might be saved.

We have to wonder, not that Jesus was despised and rejected by men, but that “He was wounded for our transgressions, bruised for our iniquities.” God’s reaction to mankind’s rebellion was to punish Jesus for it, to send Jesus to suffer for it, to lay on Him the iniquity of us all. “It pleased the LORD to bruise Him”—Him, the beloved Son of God with whom God was well-pleased. Him it pleased the Lord to bruise on the cross rather than bruising us for all eternity in hell. Wonderful!

We have to wonder that Christ willingly went along with this plan. We wonder at His sincere, genuine love for His Father, at His willingness to drink the cup which His Father gave Him, and at His silence before His accusers, as a sheep before its shearers is silent, because His goal wasn’t to stop His execution, but to allow them to go through with it, according to His Father’s will. Wonderful!

We have to wonder at Jesus’ loving treatment of everyone throughout the Passion History, from His defense of His disciples who would abandon Him, to healing the servant named Malchus whose ear Peter had cut off, to the respect Jesus showed before the Sanhedrin and before Pilate, to His love for His mother, even while dying on the cross—sincere genuine love and willing obedience to the commandments, love for God and love for His neighbor, obedient to the last, no matter how much He Himself was suffering. Wonderful!

We have to wonder at the “It is finished!”, because it means that Jesus completed His mission to earn forgiveness, life and salvation for sinners, all by Himself, all without any help from any of us. His is the suffering, the blood, the death that atones for sin—not anything you or I could ever do. Someone Else has suffered for us. It is finished! It is wonderful!

And still part of the wonder of this day is that, even now, almost 2,000 years later, God continues to hold Christ crucified before the eyes of a thoroughly corrupt and sinful world in the preaching of the Gospel, still calling sinners to repentance, still holding out forgiveness, still urging sinners to believe in Jesus Christ and Him crucified and be saved before the Day of Judgment. The Word of God that you are hearing with believing hearts paints the death of Christ onto you, even as the Baptism with which you were baptized washed the death of Christ onto you. The Sacrament of the Altar puts the death of Christ into your very mouth. And now, wonder of wonders, God considers you to have died with Christ. God considers you to be righteous with the righteousness of Christ. And God has raised up a new-born creature within you, even as He raised Christ from the dead, to live before God in holiness and in obedience to His commandments, to be imitators of God as dearly loved children, to suppress and restrain your sick, sinful flesh so that it doesn’t do whatever it wants, because you have been crucified with Christ, and now you, Christian, no longer live, but Christ lives in you.

So, is today a sad day? Hardly. There were certainly sad things that happened on the first Good Friday. And Good Friday should still work sadness and sorrow in those who sin so securely and impenitently. But for the penitent who flee for refuge to the cross of Christ, God would not have you be sad on this day. He would have you find rest and comfort in the wounds of His Son. He would have you give thanks to the Lord, for He is good and His mercy endures forever. And he would have you sit back and contemplate the cross of Christ in awe and wonder on this wonderful, wonderful day. Amen.

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The Christian Passover surpasses the Jewish Passover

Sermon for Maundy Thursday

Exodus 12:1-14  +  1 Corinthians 11:23-32  +  John 13:1-15

For 1500 years, from the days of Moses until Maundy Thursday, God’s people Israel were commanded to celebrate the Passover in commemoration of that night when God’s destroying angel passed over the houses of the Israelites who had painted the blood of the Passover lamb on their doors. Jesus was eager to celebrate the Passover meal with His disciples, because it would be the last Jewish Passover ever celebrated. Now, even though Jews have continued to observe the Passover for the 2000 years since that Maundy Thursday—in fact, tomorrow is the beginning of the Jewish celebration—the truth is, the Passover that Jesus celebrated with His disciples on Maundy Thursday was the very last legitimate Jewish Passover in history, even as it was the beginning of the Christian Passover that has no ending date, but keeps going on and on and on until the end of the world.

Let’s compare the Jewish Passover with the Christian Passover. And as we do, we’ll see just how far superior the Christian Passover is.

Both Passovers were instituted by God. The Jewish Passover was about deliverance from slavery in Egypt. That slavery was horrible. It was oppressive and painful and sometimes lethal. But it was still only temporal and only a superficial slavery—a slavery of the body, but not of the soul. The Christian Passover is about deliverance from a slavery that is far worse, a slavery of both body and soul, a slavery to sin and to death and to the power of the devil, all of which are far worse taskmasters than the Egyptian Pharaoh was. And worst of all, the slavery to sin cuts a person off from God and continues even after death, continues for all eternity.

The Jewish Passover involved a spotless young lamb. Actually, it involved thousands of spotless young lambs, one for each Israelite household in Egypt. Such spotless lambs were not at all uncommon or hard to find, and sheep were slaughtered all the time anyway. Their blood was not all that precious. But the Christian Passover involves a single Lamb, the Lamb of God, the only-begotten Son of God and Son of Man, one perfect, sinless life whose blood is infinitely precious. To slaughter a thousand lambs is nothing. But to slaughter the Lamb of God? That means…everything.

At the Jewish Passover, only the firstborn in the family was at risk, so only the firstborn was actually saved by the lamb’s blood painted on the doorframes of the house. But the blood of the Lamb of God is applied to the heart through faith, and it saves from death everyone to whom it is applied. It doesn’t just save the firstborn. It saves the whole family of believers by means of the death of the Firstborn—the Firstborn Son of God.

The Jewish Passover meal consisted (chiefly) of roasted lamb, unleavened bread, and bitter herbs. The lamb had to be roasted in the fire. The bread had to be unleavened, both because of the haste with which it had to be made, and as a symbol of the sinlessness that was required to approach God. The herbs had to be bitter to remind them of their bitter slavery in Egypt. There are no bitter herbs in the Christian Passover meal, instituted by Christ on Maundy Thursday. All the bitterness of sin and death was tasted by Christ for us. The Christian Passover meal consists of the unleavened bread of sincerity and truth, and the wine of joy and celebration.

It also consists of lamb. And you say, what? There is no lamb on our altar, no lamb included in our Christian Passover meal! Ah, but there is. Not the meat of an animal, but the very body and blood of the Lamb of God who was sacrificed for us on the cross—His body and blood that are truly present in, with, and under the bread and wine, so that the bread is His true body, and the wine is His true blood—the body and blood of the Lamb, a true communion with our Savior Jesus Christ in which He visits us here, in space and time, gives us Himself and unites us to His death and resurrection.

The Jewish Passover happened only once at the time of Moses. All the Jewish Passovers after that first Passover were mere commemorations. There was no more destroying angel, there was no more blood on the doorframes of Jewish houses; just a remembrance of God’s great deliverance of their Israelite forefathers. But the Christian Passover is more than just a remembrance of something that happened in the past. It’s an ongoing thing, an ongoing remembrance of Christ who not only died as the Passover Lamb but rose from the dead and now lives to save His people. The Lamb was sacrificed once for all, but His blood is constantly being applied to sinners through the Means of Grace, our deliverance from sin and death is constantly being carried out by Him, and His body and blood are offered to His people “as often as you drink it,” as often as we celebrate the Sacrament of the Altar. He continues to forgive us our sins by these Means, and by them He continues to preserve us in the faith and guard and protect us from sin, death, and Satan until He brings us safely into His heavenly kingdom.

The Jewish Passover was part of the Old Covenant that was always destined to pass away and be replaced by the New Covenant, the New Testament in the blood of Jesus the Christ. So we will never celebrate a Jewish Passover Seder at our church. It’s over. It’s obsolete. It has been replaced by something far, far better. Christ, our Passover Lamb, has given us His Holy Supper, the Eucharist, Holy Communion, the Sacrament of the Altar, which both replaces and surpasses all that came before. This is the Christian Passover—the Passover that we call “Easter” and the Passover meal that we call the Lord’s Supper. And we will continue to celebrate it, not only on Maundy Thursday, but every Sunday and sometimes in between for the rest of our earthly lives, proclaiming the Lord’s death until He comes. Amen.

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A lesson from Peter, Judas, and the two thieves

Sermon for Holy Tuesday

+  Luke 22 – 23  +

Out of all the things to consider from the Passion History, let’s focus this evening on what the Holy Spirit teaches us from Peter’s threefold denial of Jesus, and from Judas’ remorse, and from the thieves on the cross.

In Peter, Judas, and the thieves, we see the ugliness of sin show itself in different ways, and we also see their different responses to sin and to Christ.

We have Peter, the devout disciple of Jesus who once confessed his faith in Christ so boldly: “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God!” And even on Maundy Thursday night, Peter boldly objected when Jesus foretold his falling away: Lord, I am ready to go with You, both to prison and to death. No doubt Peter believed his own words earlier in the night. But when the moment of truth came, when the three moments of truth came, each time Peter went back on his word. Each time Peter turned his thoughts and the confidence of his heart away from Christ and toward his own devices, toward the cross he might have to bear if he were to confess his friendship with Jesus. So he denied his Friend, his Savior, his God. He refused the cross and walked away from His Lord. Three times.

But then the rooster crowed and the Lord Jesus turned and looked right at Peter, recalling to his mind the fateful prediction Jesus had made hours before and the horrible crime Peter had committed in denying the Christ before men. Jesus had once said, “Whoever denies Me before men, him I will also deny before My Father who is in heaven.” Confronted by the Word of Christ and the gaze of Christ, Peter acknowledged his sin; he repented. Repentance includes both sorrow over sin and faith in Christ, who bore that sin on the cross. Peter went and wept bitterly over his sin. “What have I done?!?” But to that sorrow, faith was added, so that Peter turned again to Christ in his heart—to Christ who doesn’t save the deserving, but the undeserving. And so Peter was restored and forgiven—forgiven as Peter applied to himself the words Jesus had spoken earlier that same evening, “Simon, Simon! Indeed, Satan has asked for you, that he may sift you as wheat. But I have prayed for you, that your faith should not fail; and when you have returned to Me, strengthen your brethren.”

Then we have Judas, who may have believed in Christ at some point, though it seems he was never really sincere in his faith, never wanted Jesus as a Savior from sin. He was an impenitent thief, even before he chose to sell his Lord for thirty pieces of silver. He was so angry at Jesus’ kindness, like His kindness shown to Mary when she anointed Him with that costly perfume—that was the last straw. He was ready to be done with Jesus. So he sold Jesus to the highest bidder and betrayed the Son of Man with a kiss of phony friendship.

Luke doesn’t mention it, but the other Evangelists do: Judas was driven to remorse after he saw that his actions had led to Jesus’ death sentence. Apparently he thought it wouldn’t come to that. He was sorrowful over having betrayed innocent blood. But that wasn’t yet repentance, because he put no faith in that blood to cover his sins. He despaired of God’s mercy and imagined his sins to be more powerful, more important, more valuable than the blood of Christ. So he hanged himself and was condemned before God.

Then we have the thieves on the cross, both of whom were criminals, robbers, rebels, both of whom had been impenitent unbelievers, with no prior association with Jesus until they were hung beside Him on their own crosses. One of them, now facing imminent death for his trespasses, still wanted nothing to do with Jesus. He would rather go to hell than rely on the blood of Christ. But the other—the other sees the guiltless Lamb of God, or as the sign above His head read, “Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews,” and he believes and seeks pity and pardon from that King. And he receives it! He finally enters into Christ’s kingdom, even there on the cross, and has Paradise promised to him before the day’s end.

Four men—all sinners from birth. Four men—none of whom deserved anything from God but condemnation. One, a devout believer who stumbled severely, but repented and was received back again. One, a hypocrite who recognized his sin of betrayal but still didn’t look to Christ for forgiveness. One, a robber who never acknowledged his sin nor believed in Jesus. One, a robber who finally did acknowledge his sin and believed in Jesus.

Two of these men—Peter and the one robber—were eternally saved. The other two were eternally condemned. What was the difference? Was it the gravity of their sins against God? No, Peter’s denial of Christ was just as damnable as Judas’ betrayal, and the two robbers committed the same crimes. What was the difference? Was it the desire of God that two of the four be damned? No, for God says, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but that the wicked turn from his way and live. What was the difference? Was it that Christ didn’t do enough to make up for sins of the two men? No, He Himself is the propitiation for our sins, and not for ours only but also for the whole world. What, then, was the difference? The difference was that Peter and the one robber were brought by the Holy Spirit to repentance, while Judas and the other robber resisted the working of the Holy Spirit, pointing them to Christ as their Savior. Two were saved by faith. Two were condemned in unbelief.

Who in the world isn’t like one of those four men? The believer who stumbles, the hypocrite who pretends to be a Christian but doesn’t believe, the heathen who is never converted and the heathen who finally is. Notice what we don’t have in the whole Passion History: the believer who never stumbles, the disciple who commits no sin. There is a lesson for us in this, and St. John summarizes it well in his first epistle: My little children, these things I write to you, so that you may not sin. And if anyone does sin, we have an Advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous. Always turn back to Him, your Advocate with the Father, if you do sin. Always know that God earnestly desires your repentance, not your death. And see in the Passion History how Jesus never, ever turned away the one who looked to Him for mercy, but always forgave, always restored. And He always will. Amen.

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A lesson from Jesus’ prayer in Gethsemane

Sermon for Holy Monday

+  Mark 14 – 15  +

The Passion History is so rich in teaching and meaning that we could spend the rest of our lives delving into it and we still wouldn’t cover it all. But consider with me this evening for just a moment Jesus’ prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane.

All alone the Son of God will bear the sins of the world. Before He does it, before He can do it, there’s something He must do: He has to pray. He prays: Abba, Father. “Abba” is just “Father” in Aramaic, the first language spoken by Jews at that time. St. Mark otherwise wrote in Greek, but here is this little Aramaic word thrown in to give us a glimpse into Gethsemane, to the first word that poured from Jesus’ lips, straight from the heart, in the agony of His soul. “Abba.” Father. No matter how painful the cross, no matter how difficult was the task before Him, Jesus knew that nothing could happen that was outside of the will and permission of His Father who loved Him as His dear Child and was well-pleased with His beloved Son. So Jesus knows His prayer will be heard and will be pleasing to His Father, because it is uttered in faith.

It’s the Spirit of Jesus who now makes sinners into children of God by bringing them to faith in Jesus. With the same love, with the same confidence, with the same boldness, you who believe in Christ are now invited to call upon God as your dear Father, even as Paul writes to the Romans, you received the Spirit of adoption by whom we cry out, “Abba, Father.” Just like Jesus. No matter how painful the cross, no matter how difficult may be the task before you in this life, nothing is beyond your Father’s control, and nothing is too big or too small to ask.

All things are possible for You. That’s at the heart of every prayer, or it should be: that God has the power to do anything, from small to big, from simple to miraculous. That’s why it was a misguided prayer when the man once came to Jesus and said, “if You can do anything.” That’s just it: Jesus can do anything. His Father can do anything. It’s possible for God to make the sun stand still in the sky. Or to cause the storm to be stilled, or to make the dead rise. Surely it was possible for God the Father to thwart the betrayal of Judas and the plans of the murderous Jews. Surely He could save His Son from condemnation and from crucifixion and from death.

Take this cup away from Me. This cup, this course upon which Jesus had been placed by His Father, was, of course, the very reason why Jesus had taken on human flesh in the first place. This course of betrayal, condemnation, crucifixion and death had been laid out for the Son of God since before the foundations of the world were laid. He was, as John referred to Him in his Revelation, “the Lamb slain from the foundation of the world.” The Scriptures had to be fulfilled, and Jesus knew it. Indeed, Jesus had just a short time ago blessed the cup of the New Testament in His blood, which He had already given to His disciples to drink. He knew this cup was already poured out for Him. And yet still He prays, “Take it away from Me.”

That wasn’t a sinful prayer. It’s a prayer that shows us just how much Jesus dreaded what was coming, just how painful He knew it would be, just how much He would have to suffer to make atonement for the sins of the world. We shouldn’t imagine that Jesus approached the cross easily. He felt the temper’s temptation to drop the cross and walk away.

Jesus earnestly prayed, “Take this cup away from Me.” But He just as earnestly added: Nevertheless, not what I will, but what You will. Jesus wouldn’t put the cup down without His Father’s permission. See, there are levels of willing or wanting. You may want, on some level, to be at home right now resting or getting housework done. But more than that, you wanted to come here to hear the Word of Christ. So, too, Jesus wanted to avoid the cross. But more than that, He wanted to do His Father’s will, to obey His Father, to serve His Father, and in the process, to serve us. So, then, in the words of the writer to the Hebrews: let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.

A final thought for this evening. Consider this: if your beloved son were about to be betrayed and innocently condemned and ruthlessly tortured and painfully slaughtered, and if it were possible for you to stop it, wouldn’t you? The only reason you wouldn’t is if you loved someone else more than your son, someone else who would benefit from your son’s death. You can’t even imagine that, can you? But see how great is the love of God toward us sinners, toward us who were His enemies and not even His sons. In order to spare us from death and hell, God refused to spare His Son. So we must conclude with St. Paul: He who did not spare His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all, how shall He not with Him also freely give us all things? Who shall bring a charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifies. Who is he who condemns? Because Jesus yielded to His Father’s will, the answer to that question is, No one! Amen.

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Not a whatever-you-want-Him-to-be kind of King. But a Redeemer-King.

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Sermon for Palmarum

Philippians 2:5-11  +  Matthew 21:1-9  +  Matthew 26-27

It’s good that we connect the beginning of Holy Week to the end of it, that we connect Jesus’ Triumphal Entry into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday to His humiliating entry into the grave on Friday afternoon. That way, we learn to expect the right things from King Jesus.

It’s true that some people expect absolutely nothing from Jesus. They want nothing from Him except for Him to shut up and go away, because His unwavering truth and His unchanging moral Law nag at their consciences, and His Gospel of free forgiveness through faith in Him is repugnant to them. But He’ll never shut up and He’ll never go away. Jesus is the King, whether a person believes it or not, whether a person wants Him for a king or not. No one can remove Him from His well-earned throne—the throne at the right hand of God that is not only His by right, but His by merit, because He humbled Himself and became obedient to the point of death, even the death of the cross. Therefore God also has highly exalted Him and given Him the name which is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow.

Still, many people want or expect something different from this King than what He actually came to give. Some people see Him riding into Jerusalem on a donkey, and they want or expect an always-mild, never-offend-anyone, never-get-angry, let-you-go-on-living-in-sin kind of King. Such people should consider that immediately after riding into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, Jesus went to the temple and drove out all those who bought and sold in the temple, and overturned the tables of the money changers and the seats of those who sold doves. The same Jesus warned those who rejected Him that they would see Him one day coming on the clouds of heaven for judgment.

Many people want or expect a make-the-world-a-better-place kind of King, or a make-my-life-better kind of king, or a make-me-feel-good kind of king. But you can’t honestly follow Jesus through Holy Week and pretend that Jesus fits that description. No, even if you got that impression from Palm Sunday and the celebration that accompanied it, you get to Maundy Thursday and Good Friday, and you’re left with the glaring reality: That isn’t Jesus. His kingdom is not of this world. He’s not that kind of King.

What He is, is a King who knows the future like the palm of His hand, who knows where His disciples will find those donkeys tied up, who knows how He will be despised and hated, betrayed, arrested, condemned, tortured, ridiculed, crucified, dead, and buried by Friday afternoon, but still He sends for those donkeys that will transport Him into Jerusalem. Still He gets up on those donkeys and rides gently and humbly into the city, Jerusalem’s true King, righteous and having salvation.

What Jesus is, is a King who knows just how dark and evil the human heart is by nature, who knows your darkest thoughts and your vilest deeds, and yet still He rides into Jerusalem and walks resolutely toward Gethsemane, where He knows His betrayer will find Him. He chooses to drink the cup His Father gives—the cup that was yours and mine to drink.

What Jesus is, is a King who wasn’t ashamed to be dressed in a scarlet robe and a crown of thorns, to receive the mock-worship of Pilate’s soldiers, to make Himself of no reputation, taking the form of a bondservant, and coming in the likeness of men, a King who yielded to His Father’s will, obedient, obedient, obedient unto death, like a Lamb who went uncomplaining forth, the guilt of all men bearing, a King who, though He knew no sin, became sin for us, so that in Him we might become the righteousness of God.

What we have in Jesus is the kind of King who earned eternal life for sinners by shedding His innocent blood on the cross, and then gives it all away—His body, His blood, and the forgiveness they earned—through a new Sacrament He instituted, a New Testament in His blood, that He instituted to be administered, not once or twice, but over and over and over again, as long as you have sins in this life that need forgiving, as long as you have need of the atoning blood of Christ. He gives it in Holy Communion.

This is your King, O Jerusalem, O Church of God: not a whatever-you-want-Him-to-be kind of King. But a Redeemer-King who purchased and won you from sin, death, and the power of the devil. A crucified-for-you-and-risen King, a standing-between-you-and-death kind of King. Hosanna to the Son of David! Hosanna in the highest! Amen.

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