An Invitation to Celebrate Mormon Women in Sacrament Meeting

This year, the 171st anniversary of the establishment of the first Relief Society falls on Sunday, 17 March 2013. With this, an opportunity is created for branches and wards throughout the world to have sacrament meeting on this day devoted to Mormon women and the Relief Society. What’s that you say? Mother’s Day is all about women? No. It is not. Mother’s Day is about mothers. Although all mothers are women, not all women are mothers. This is a chance for all church members to gather, teach and learn about the contribution of women who are devoted to Christ.

True to my conscience, I emailed my Relief Society president with this suggestion. She responded by asking my for listed talks and special musical numbers that I thought would be fitting. I was happily surprised that my email had been noticed so quickly, so spent a day asking what others thought about topics for talks about women. My response is included below, and although it is specific to my ward, the same topics can be adapted to any ward or branch in the church.

Please join us in encouraging leaders at a local level to enlist Sunday, 17 March 2013 with a Sacrament Meeting program dedicated to Mormon women of the Relief Society.

 

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“That’s Just Like Me…”

“That’s Just Like Me…”

The theme for our Mothers’ Day service was to reflect on the blessings and struggles of being a Mormon Mom. Because my husband is in the bishopric and conducts in May, when the main speaker got sick I was the last minute substitute. So late Saturday night, I found myself pondering the highs and lows of raising kids and wondering what on earth I could share. 

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When the Bishop Stops by and You Look Like a Deer in the Headlights

When the Bishop Stops by and You Look Like a Deer in the Headlights

It’s been two months now since the Bishop stopped by my house and asked me to serve as Relief Society President.  It was completely unexpected.  I think I’m still in shock!  Well, the shock was followed by fear, and now peace, but you get the idea.  I still picture this as something my mother would do.  Also,  I think  I was under the impression that there was some sort of “hierarchy of holiness” in the ward with the most spiritual people being asked to do these sorts of callings.  That left me feeling pretty safe.  Well, at this point, I’m pretty sure that’s not how it works!

I’ve learned that the Lord doesn’t necessarily wait until we are prepared, feel up for the task, and have our lives all together. He doesn’t always choose the person who is the most experienced, or the most gifted. He pretty much takes us as we are, with all our flaws and inadequacies. I suppose that’s the beauty of grace. We are all inadequate and flawed and he will love us anyway.

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Women of Righteousness: A Mother's Day Talk

For Mother’s Day, I was asked to speak, as a surprise for my mother, in my parents’ home ward. The bishopric asked me to address Elder M. Russell Ballard’s talk entitled “Women of Righteousness.” I took the opportunity to expand on his talk’s treatment of what it means to be righteous women. In my talk, I try to illustrate that righteousness has very little to do with what work we are asked to do (whether the work of mother- or fatherhood, community service, career, or church service) and everything to do with the manner in which we accomplish the work we are given. In my opinion, that truth means that gender, marriage, and mother- or fatherhood are unnecessary categories for understanding what it means to be a “righteous woman” or a “righteous man.” Caroline asked me to share my talk here.

In his talk, “Women of Righteousness,” Elder M. Russell Ballard addresses a concern voiced by a faithful sister in the church. In a letter sent to church headquarters, this sister wrote the following:

“I have a wonderful husband and children, whom I love deeply. I love the Lord and His Church more than I can say. I know the Church is true! I realize I shouldn’t feel discouraged about who I am. Yet I have been going through an identity crisis most of my life. I have never dared utter these feelings out loud but have hidden them behind the huge, confident smile I wear to church every week. For years I have doubted if I had any value beyond my roles as a wife and mother. I have feared that men are that they might have joy, but that women are that they might be overlooked. I long to feel that I, as a woman, matter to the Lord.”

In his talk, Elder Ballard replies to this sister’s concern with a “resounding yes”—women do matter to the Lord.

This sister’s concern may seem misguided and even ungrateful. It may seem absolutely obvious to us that of course women matter to the Lord. Of course they are of equal value to and deserve joy as much as men. Of course God loves his daughters and would never have them be overlooked.

But no matter how obvious this may seem to us, my experience and friendships with LDS women tells me that this concern is very real—that many women in the church wonder whether they have worth in the eyes of the Lord.

In response to the problem of what value this sister has outside marriage and motherhood, Elder Ballard says that while the doctrine of marriage and family “sometimes causes women to ask: ‘Is a woman’s value dependent exclusively upon her role as a wife and mother?’ The answer is simple: No.” When we hear women voice this concern, we far too often glibly dismiss it by asserting that being a wife and a mother is the most important thing a woman can do. This is certainly true—marriage and parenting—creating families—is the most important thing either a woman or a man can do. But that does not change the fact that many women find themselves wondering what other contributions they can make—how they can make contributions as themselves, not only through others, even when those others are as dear to them as their husbands and their children are. It is a heartbreaking and very real problem for many of our sisters.

And then there are women in my position. Women who are not wives or mothers. Again as faithful Latter-day Saints, we often too easily dismiss this situation by assuring single women or women who are not mothers that all women are by nature mothers. That they will be given this blessing sometime. That they can nurture and love children around them, whether nieces and nephews or children in the primary. It is true that all of us, whether women or men, can and should reach out in love to the children in our lives whether they are our own children or not. But believe me, when faced by loneliness and depression, these assurances are very cold comfort. Even when I am happy and trust that, in his goodness, God will bless me with the opportunities of marriage and motherhood whether in this life or the next, the fact remains that I am here on earth with a life to live now—a life I thought would be full every single day with teaching and loving children together with my eternal companion, but which is not.

So, if motherhood is not always enough and if it is not even an option, what does it mean to be a righteous woman? In a church which places so very much emphasis on family in general and, for women specifically, on being a wife and mother, the answer to this question is not always apparent. Too often we use “wife and mother” as a kind of shorthand for righteousness in women. But I don’t think it’s that simple. After all, there are many wives and many mothers who are anything but righteous. I would like to present the examples of three righteous women whose righteousness is not entirely rooted in their roles as wife and mother: Eliza R. Snow, Deborah, and Esther. Each of these women were wives, but Eliza R. Snow never had children and the Bible leaves it unclear whether either Deborah or Esther bore children. Each of them teaches us a great deal about what it means to be righteous regardless of gender.

When the Relief Society was first organized in 1842 in Nauvoo, Eliza R. Snow served as its first secretary. 25 years later, Brigham Young called Sister Snow to help establish Relief Societies in the wards of Zion. Serving as president of the Relief Society for twenty years, she pioneered a variety of programs meant to educate the women of the church and promote the church’s self-sufficiency. For instance, she asserted that “We want sister physicians that can officiate in any capacity that gentlemen are called upon to officiate . . . Women can occupy precisely the same footing that men occupy as physicians and surgeons.” She proceeded to establish, with President Young’s support, programs to send LDS women to medical school to become doctors and to train LDS women as nurses. Under her leadership, the Relief Society established a hospital where a woman served as head surgeon.

In many ways, President Snow’s efforts epitomized the spirit of President Hinckley’s recent advice to the young women of the church. At the spring 2007 General Young Women Meeting, he said: “You may plan on marriage, and hope for it, but you are not certain that it will come. And even though you marry, education will be of great benefit to you. Don’t just drift along, letting the days come and go without improvement in your lives. The Lord will bless you as you make the effort. Your lives will be enriched and your outlook broadened as your minds are opened to new vistas and knowledge.” Eliza R. Snow’s efforts as the president of the Relief Society encouraged women to gain knowledge and valuable skills, allowing them to establish successful silk manufactures, mercantile commission exchanges, grain storage systems (which outstripped the system run by the church’s bishops), publications, and educational institutions.

As a result of her dedication and diligent work to establish the kingdom of God on earth, Eliza R. Snow was frequently referred to as both a prophetess and a “mother in Israel.” The last seems a rather strange title to be given to a woman who, though married to first Joseph Smith and then Brigham Young, never bore children. But that title’s meaning is illuminated through the story of another prophetess, the Old Testament judge in Israel Deborah, who is the first woman to have been called a “mother in Israel.”

Deborah had many roles. Poet. Prophetess. Judge. Leader of military action. As a prophetess and judge, she received instruction from God that Barak should raise an Israelite army and move against the Canaanites who held them captive. Even after Deborah assured Barak that God would deliver the leader of the opposing army into their hands, Barak insisted that he would not go to war unless Deborah accompanied h
im. Barak lead the army; Deborah, in her role as prophetess and judge, lead Barak, making possible through revelation his military victory.

While Barak’s army, with God’s divine assistance, defeated the much more powerful Canaanite army, Deborah advised him that “the Lord shall sell Sisera [the leader of the Canaanite army] into the hand of a woman.” True to this prophecy, Sisera fled sure destruction on the battle field and took refuge in the tent of Jael, the wife of an Arab chief allied with the Israelites. Having made Sisera comfortable and promised to hide him, Jael waited for him to sleep and then killed him.

Both Deborah and Jael righteously performed the work of God, but they did so by performing actions that fall outside what we would think of as women’s typical roles. In doing so, these women demonstrated that what matters is not necessarily fitting ourselves to preconceived notions of what it means to be a woman (can you imagine what would have happened had Deborah refused to go into battle with the Israelite army because it would be dirty and difficult and dangerous? or had Jael hesitated to kill Sisera because such a deed did not conform to notions of femininity?); Deborah and Jael help us understand that it’s more important to do the work God gives us to do, and to do it well, than it is to try to force ourselves into being what we think it means to be a woman, or for that matter a man, and therefore failing to do what needs to be done.

After the Israelites’ victory over the Canaanites, Deborah sings in praise of God that “the inhabitants of the villages ceased, they ceased in Israel, until that I Deborah arose, that I arose a mother in Israel.” How is it that she arose “a mother in Israel” as she first revealed God’s plan and then accompanied the army into battle as it fulfilled God’s plan? At the end of her song of praise, Deborah sings: “So let all thine enemies perish, O Lord; but let them that love him be as the sun when he goeth forth in his might. And the land had rest forty years.” Deborah’s efforts, Jael’s actions, and the Israelites’ obedience to God’s commands resulted in forty years of peace. The number forty represents the gestation period—forty weeks to bring forth new human life. This symbol is repeated throughout the Old and New Testaments: forty years of peace, forty years wandering in the desert, forty days fasting in the wilderness. In each instance, this period of time functions as an incubator to foster new spiritual life. While we do not know if Deborah actually had children, her righteousness fostered the spiritual life of her community just as Eliza R. Snow’s dedication and hard work fostered the physical and spiritual strength of the early church as it settled in the west.

Esther, like both Eliza R. Snow and Deborah, dedicated herself to preserving her community and did so at great risk to herself. We all know that in entering the presence of the king in order to seek protection for her people, Esther risked her own life. The extent of that danger becomes more clear when we understand what went before. When Esther took this risk, she had not been queen for very long. The previous queen, Vashti, had been put aside by the king, Ahasuerus, because she disobeyed his command. As a result, all of the king’s provinces were instructed that women must obey their husbands and all of the young women of his kingdom were brought to the court so Ahasuerus could choose a new queen. When Esther chose to disobey the king’d command that no one enter his presence without his having summoned them, she did so knowing that her predecessor had lost her position because of disobedience. She further knew that her people were threatened because her uncle, Mordecai, had disobeyed another of the king’s commands when he refused to bow to the king’s first in command, Hamar. In spite of these two powerful examples of how disobedience to the king could result in a loss of status, home, and position at best and life at worst, Esther risked entering the king’s presence in order to save her people from death. Her uncle Mordecai first suggested this course of action; Esther in turn suggested that she and her attendants, her uncle, and all of the Jews in the king’s provinces fast and pray for three days prior to her entering the king’s presence and making her request. Esther’s selfless sacrifice and her recognition of the power of fasting and prayer saved her people from destruction.

Each of these women, with their obedience and dedication, helps us understand that righteousness is not a factor of the role we fill in this life. Instead righteousness is about how we do the work we have been given to do, whether it is the work of mother- or fatherhood, of our careers, of public service, or of church service.

In his ministries in both Jerusalem and the Americas, the Savior said: “Therefore what manner of men (and women!) ought ye to be? Verily I say unto you, even as I am.” He is our ultimate example of what it means to be righteous. If we will worry less about making ourselves the perfect woman, or man, and instead embrace the example of the Savior, we will live lives of righteousness and meaning. As we become loving, compassionate, strong women and men of Christ, we will change our selves, our families, our communities, and ultimately our world and help build Zion.

I have been richly blessed with parents who set an example of such righteousness. Today I would like to honor my mother. I know no more perfect example of Christlike love and service. Her love and compassion have taught me to reach out to others. It is her example of righteous living and her belief in me that makes it possible for me to find happiness in my life.

I know that as we strive to live as Christ did, we will lead lives of righteousness that will allow us to bless our families and communities. In the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.

{I’d like to thank our Deborah and those who commented on her lovely post about being the namesake of the Old Testament prophetess Deborah. I used their thoughts in preparing my own thoughts about Deborah.}

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Easter Sacrament talk

I’ll be cheating on my posts for the next little bit having recruited some guest posters who are far more eloquent than I am while I remain sleep deprived with a newborn (born on Monday–a week before his due date, lucky me!).

This is the Easter talk my mom, Mary P. Clyde, gave in her ward last Easter. It’s always so hard to write “the Easter talk” and come up with something new and original. I like her approach of looking at the Easter story as a story complete with archetypes, character development and all that other good stuff an English professor (which she is) would analyze.

EASTER, HAPPILY EVER AFTER
by Mary P. Clyde
In my life, spring signals not just the celebration of Easter, this occasion both solemn and joyous. Spring is not just bunnies, chicks, and eggs—natural and fanciful or chocolate, the best combination. It’s not just our desert that flowers as if it’s forgotten for a moment that it is a desert. But at this time of year, as surely as our citrus trees bloom, for me, the college semester starts to wind down.
And it is at this point in the semester, coinciding with spring fever and imminent graduation, that inevitably a student in one of my fiction classes will slump in her seat and wearily raise her hand. Typically, she’ll make a face before she asks, “Are we ever going to read anything with a happy ending in this class?”
I’ve responded to the question in various ways: Sometimes I launch into an earnest, too-long explanation about the nature of art and literature. That’s never interested them much. Sometimes I remind them that art mirrors life, and there are conflicts in life. I know this explanation is solid and true, but it’s the end of the semester and they don’t want, or need, any reminders about tests and trials. Sometimes the student’s question prompts me to point out some story endings that are “sort of” happy: where most of the family makes it to the refugee camp or where we aren’t sure that the character is still addicted to heroine. I nod convincingly and try to look wise. But even as I defend unhappy endings, I understand it can be disheartening to read about disheartening subjects. I recognize the students’ hunger for an ending where everything works out. The spirit—all of our spirits—hunger for such a story; we long for reassurance and hope, for an understanding that our trials are to a purpose and that a situation, or a life, can turn out well.
But today, on Easter, instead of speaking just about how fictional stories work and those not-quite-happy endings, I have an opportunity to examine a true story, a story more amazing than any fiction, more far-reaching, more profound. Here is the ultimate happy ending. The characters (and the readers) can live happily ever after and forever and ever!
The story of Jesus Christ’s life and resurrection is a story with not just a main character, not a mere archetypal hero, but a god, an immortal who took on mortality. The plot of this story involves not just action, but much of the kind of action and conflict that my students would hope to avoid: betrayal, hatred, violence, suffering, and death. However, I am right when I tell students that there is no story at all without conflict. A story where everyone loves everyone else and where there is no pain or disappointment is not just unbelievable, it’s not a story. Characters and human beings don’t live “happily ever after” without first living with some unhappiness. As the Savior said to His disciples, “In the world ye shall have tribulation.” (John 16:33) But then He added, “but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.”
There it is—a happy ending! The Savior overcoming the world is that illusive happy ending, and it is not just a happy ending, but the happiest ending of them all, an ending that is not an ending, but a continuing story with joy that is eternal and shared by all the characters, living, dead, and yet to be born.
Jesus Christ’s life has often been referred to as the greatest story ever told. Of course, it has all the elements of a story. I’d like to speak about three of them: the main character, the conflict, and the ending.
Christ is the “main” character in every way and its focus, as He should be in our lives. He reveals the attributes of divinity, including love and power. Reading the scriptural accounts of the Savior at Gethsemane and during the crucifixion, because of our limited human experience and understanding, we can only glimpse the fullness of His love. But this is love abounding.
A writer once famously claimed that all stories are essentially love stories. The resurrection is a story about an unimaginable love, infinite, and all-encompassing. As difficult as it is to comprehend the enormity of the Savor’s love that caused Him to give His life for us, evidence of it is everywhere in the story and manifest in all His actions.
He took Peter, James, and John to Gethsemane, explaining to them that His soul was “sorrowful unto death.” (Matthew 26: 38) Imagine how heartsick and sad He must have looked as He said that and as He asked them to watch with Him. He went into the garden and prayed not far away, asking if it be the will of his Father that He might not drink from this bitter cup. An angel appeared, strengthening him, but still we have been told that this was the hour of His greatest suffering. Yet, when He returned twice to His disciples, each time He found them asleep.
But in His hour of greatest need, when He found Peter napping, the Savior’s response was not one of anger, but of disappointment, “What could ye not watch with me one hour?” (Matthew 26:40) Then, ever the teacher, He gives instruction, “Watch and pray, that ye enter not into temptation,” and finally He shows His understanding and compassion: “The Spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is week.” (Matthew 26:41) It is important to recall these words in context of what the Savior went on to do. His flesh was not weak. With willing spirit and flesh He died for us. But when He returns to find His disciples sleeping a third time, He says, “sleep on now, and take your rest.” (Matthew 26:45) Surely there is pain in these words, but they are also a tender expression of His love and patience for His all-too-human disciples.
We see His love throughout the story: when He pauses to heal the high priest servant’s ear that Peter has cut off, when He asks John to take care of His mother Mary, when He comforts the thief who is being crucified next to Him by telling him, “Today shalt thou be with me in paradise.”
Beyond the enormity of the act of giving His life for us, perhaps the most amazing demonstration of His love is found in one of His final utterances, “Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.” He says this in the midst of His suffering, while not far away the soldiers are casting lots for His clothing.
President Ezra Taft Benson wrote: “The mortal mind fails to fathom, the tongue cannot express, the pen of man cannot describe the breadth, the depth, the height of the suffering of our Lord—nor his infinite love for us.”
With this suffering we can also glimpse a second divine attribute, His omnipotence. Understandi
ng His power is crucial to understanding the story. Elder James E. Talmage tells us that what Christ suffered was not merely a physical pain, nor a mental anguish, but “a spiritual agony of soul such as only God was capable of experiencing.” This becomes all the more unfathomable when we recognize that the Savior had the ability to stop His suffering at any moment. He says to Peter after the mob comes to get him, “Thinkest thou that I cannot now pray to my Father, and He shall presently give me more than twelve legions of angels?” (Matthew 26:53) Those legions of angels were ever available to Him. The crowd taunts Him about his powers, about destroying and building the temple. In saying so not only do they not understand His meaning, but they are mentioning only the smallest part of what He is capable of. The God whose creations include this world has infinite power and glory. As Christ later tells Pilate, “Thou couldst have no power at all against me, except it were given thee from above.” (John 19: 10)
Here love and power come together in an incomprehensible way. It is because of His power that He can suffer the sins of mankind, that He could literally defeat death. It is because of His love that He is willing to do so.
The element of conflict is essential for a good story, and this story begins with conflict when Judas comes with what John calls “a band of men and officers from the chief priests and Pharisees.” They come with “lanterns, torches, and weapons.” (John 18:3) Surely this is an ominous beginning, but the Savior’s response foreshadows all of His mild responses to all that He is subjected to. He says to the mob, “Are ye come out as against a thief with swords and staves for to take me? I sat daily with you teaching you in the temple, and ye laid no hold on me.” (Matthew 26:55)
The list of the tortures He suffers seems endless: the beatings, the crown of thorns, the other various forms of mockery including carrying the cross that He was to die on, but in the midst of it all, His response when He was not directly showing love or compassion to someone else was to remain silent or to answer simply, “Thou sayst.”
In considering the Savior’s calm acceptance of all that was inflicted on Him during these hours, I humbly remembered my response one day when I dropped something on my foot. I was extravagantly angry about it. I was outspoken, even melodramatic. But it was I who dropped the paperweight on my foot. It was even my paperweight. No one else was in the room. Who did I have to be mad at? The Savior’s patient calm stood in stark contrast to my anger. Furthermore, I was as guilty of causing my pain as the Savior was innocent of causing His. But he did not rage.
Crucifixion causes terrible thirst. Elder James E. Talmage points out that it was that thirst that caused the Savior to utter the one recorded expression of His physical suffering: “I thirst” (John 19:28)
Unlike most characters in stories, the conflict in the story of Jesus is in no way of His making. Rather it is what He willingly suffers because of His love for mankind, a suffering He could end at any juncture, but He lovingly forbears to do so.
The happy ending of the story is technically not an ending. It is only a part of a beautiful story that does not end. Its open ending is evidenced in all of our lives and due to the sacrifice of the Savior.
Elder Talmage suggests that after the sponge with vinegar is pressed to the Savior’s lips, He realizes that He is not forsaken and that His sacrifice is complete and His mission is accepted by the Father, and He exclaims in a loud voice of holy triumph: “It is finished” (John 19:30) This is where the happy part begins, and ironically, it is in His act of dying, because He does it voluntary, for just as He lays down his life, He takes it up again.
Of course, He had told his disciples many times that He would be resurrected, but it wasn’t something they could fully understand. When Mary Magdalene and the other women tell the apostles that they have seen the resurrected Lord, the apostles think, “their words seemed to them as idle tales, and they believed them not.” They thought that this most true of all stories was fiction! After Peter found the tomb was empty he left, “wondering in himself at that which was to pass.” When the Savior shows Himself to His disciples after His death, many do not recognize Him. Some suppose they have seen a spirit. Thomas becomes “Doubting Thomas” and forever a symbol of faithlessness, because of his refusal to believe without the proof of the resurrected Lord.
It is Mary Magdeline who first sees the resurrected Jesus. We are told that Mary Magdeline and other of the women who love Him watch the crucifixion helplessly from a distance. Notice that when Mary Magdeline sees the Savior after His death, she is on an errand of service. She has come to the tomb and remains there after the others have left because of her great love. Fresh pain has been added to her already terrible grief in that she fears that someone has stolen His body. She stands outside the sepulcher weeping when a man she assumes to be a gardener, asks her two simple, kind questions: “Woman, why weepest thou? Whom seekest thou?” She responds, probably with tears obscuring her vision, pleading that if this stranger knows where the body is, will he please tell her that she might take it away.
“Jesus saith unto her, Mary. She turned herself.” (John 20:15-16)
Because I am a Mary, I may have a unique perspective on the Savior calling her name. That scripture reminds me of the way my grandmother said my name. Though she has been gone many years now, I can still hear the way she said it. I can hear the tone and inflection. And most of all I can hear her love. Imagine the Savior saying your name. For he knows you and your name, and also that of your friends, neighbors, and loved ones. There will be love in His voice when He says our names, though we undoubtedly have some of the traits and shortcomings of His disciples in Jerusalem. We have slept when we didn’t mean to, or at times, we have lacked courage. The Savior is aware of this. He cannot pretend that we are perfect, as my grandmother willingly pretending I was. And yet, He will say our names, with an unequalled love.
I know that something like that occurred for Mary Magdeline when she heard Jesus say Mary. She knew Him, that He loved her–that He is risen!
She must have moved to embrace Him, because He cautions her not to touch Him because He has not risen yet to the Father. Imagine her joy. This is real happiness. She does not think she’s seen a spirit. She knows she’s seen the risen Lord.
There are few artistic representations of the Savior smiling. I think my students would agree that up until this point in the story there hasn’t been much to smile about. Judas’s betrayal, Peter’s denial, these acts from loved ones are not the stuff of happy endings. But when He sees Mary Magdeline on what was to come to be called Easter morning, I know He smiled. That is part of the happy ending. He is risen! That is what happily ever after means to those who love Him, to those who call themselves by His name.
The Book of Mormon prophet Abinadi taught, “The grave hath no victory, and the sting of death is swallowed up in Christ. He is the light and the life of the world; yea, a light that is endless, that can never be darkened; yea, and also a life which is endless, that there can be no more death” (Mosiah 16:8-9)
He is risen! It is an ending that is endless, a love that knows no bounds, suffering that ends in the ultimate triumph ov
er evil and death. He is risen! It is not a fiction. It is the most profound, exquisite truth.

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