God Is Throwing a Banquet—and We Are Invited

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By Larry Short

As Elim moves into the next season, God has been directing us to focus our attention on “rolling out a red carpet of Gospel hospitality.” Pastor Ryan even pivoted his sermon this past weekend away from Ecclesiastes and into the scene at the Last Supper where Jesus “showed the full extent of His love” to His disciples by taking on the role of a humble servant and washing their yucky feet—and then urging them (and us, by extension) to do likewise to one another, showing God’s love by serving each other in humility.

While reflecting on this topic of Gospel hospitality, another parable of Christ’s has been demanding my attention. In Luke 14, we find Jesus at the home of a ruler of the Pharisees, invited to a fancy dinner. This was “ordinary hospitality”—invite someone to dinner, and perhaps you will get something out of it: a return invitation, a chance to learn and observe, etc.

But Jesus was also observing. He saw many of the guests vying for the best seats at the table, the seats of honor closest to the host. He warned that in doing so they risked getting displaced by someone the host deemed more important than they and forced to sit shamefacedly in a lower position. He encouraged them instead to seek out in humility the low position, with the possibility that the host might then raise them up.

This principle of humility is one that of course syncs well with Christ’s teaching about washing His disciples’ feet. But it’s the very next thing Christ said, the parable of the great banquet, that really caught my eye:

12 He said also to the man who had invited him, “When you give a dinner or a banquet, do not invite your friends or your brothers or your relatives or rich neighbors, lest they also invite you in return and you be repaid. 13 But when you give a feast, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, 14 and you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you. For you will be repaid at the resurrection of the just.”

15 When one of those who reclined at table with him heard these things, he said to him, “Blessed is everyone who will eat bread in the kingdom of God!” 16 But he said to him, “A man once gave a great banquet and invited many. 17 And at the time for the banquet he sent his servant to say to those who had been invited, ‘Come, for everything is now ready.’ 18 But they all alike began to make excuses. The first said to him, ‘I have bought a field, and I must go out and see it. Please have me excused.’ 19 And another said, ‘I have bought five yoke of oxen, and I go to examine them. Please have me excused.’ 20 And another said, ‘I have married a wife, and therefore I cannot come.’ 21 So the servant came and reported these things to his master. Then the master of the house became angry and said to his servant, ‘Go out quickly to the streets and lanes of the city, and bring in the poor and crippled and blind and lame.’ 22 And the servant said, ‘Sir, what you commanded has been done, and still there is room.’ 23 And the master said to the servant, ‘Go out to the highways and hedges and compel people to come in, that my house may be filled. 24 For I tell you, none of those men who were invited shall taste my banquet.’”

I realized that the part of this parable that begins with Jesus’s words “A man once gave a great banquet” is less parable and more an actual prophecy. Because Scripture tells us of a coming day in which Christ Himself, the Bridegroom of the Church, will indeed throw a great banquet, which Revelation 19 calls the “marriage supper of the Lamb”:

 Let us rejoice and exult
and give him the glory,

for the marriage of the Lamb has come,
and his Bride has made herself ready;

it was granted her to clothe herself
with fine linen, bright and pure”—

for the fine linen is the righteous deeds of the saints.

And the angel said to me, “Write this: Blessed are those who are invited to the marriage supper of the Lamb.” And he said to me, “These are the true words of God.”

A couple of things that jump out at me about this end-times great feast. First of all, while all may be invited, not all will accept the invitation. The original invite list in Christ’s parable was full of people who sadly allowed “ordinary life and business” to get in the way of accepting the Master’s invitation. “Please have me excused,” they begged, and the Master did, even though it caused him distress to do so. God will never compel us to accept His invitation.

And if we do accept it, we must learn the lesson of humility. We cannot seek to seat ourselves at the place of honor, or else we risk being put in our proper place. It is far better to humble oneself than to be humbled.

In Christ’s final great wedding feast, we see that humility in the way the Bride has prepared herself. “It was granted her to clothe herself with fine linen, bright and pure.” That fine linen, we are told, is “the righteous deeds of the saints,” but those saints have been freely granted the privilege of attendance, as that righteousness comes not by our own doing, but at the cost of the blood of God’s sacrificial Lamb, the Bridegroom of the feast.

It takes true humility to realize that we are invited to the wedding not because of how holy we are, but because of how God (at His own expense) has made us holy. And the proper response to such an act of grace is deep gratitude and highest praise!

The third and final aspect of our response (humble acceptance and gratitude and praise being the first two) is shown clearly in Christ’s closing words to His listeners. Once we have accepted God’s Gospel hospitality in humility and thankfulness, we must extend it to others. The Master’s command in Luke 14:23 was to “go out to the highways and hedges and compel people to come in, that my house may be filled.” But God never forces people to accept His invitation. The basis of their acceptance will be love! Thus His mandate in John 13:34 is that we must “love one another just as he has loved us.” It is only and precisely this love and service that will make Christ’s love compelling to others.

Elim is on a journey to learn how to roll out a red carpet of Gospel hospitality to all in our community. Humble acceptance, thankfulness, selfless love, and service will be required of each of us in this priesthood of believers in order to fulfill Christ’s purposes for Elim. Are you on board?

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Loving Jesus and Hating Mammon: A Beginner’s Guide

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By Jason Comerford

If you’re at all familiar with Jesus’s teachings in the Gospels, you’re likely familiar with the fact that much of it centers around money. Jesus has a lot of opinions about how the people of God should handle wealth. One of the more famous sections is found in Matthew 6, wherein Jesus says the following: “No one can serve two masters, for he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and money” Matthew 6:24.

Now, interesting thing about most English translations, they use the word wealth or money” in place of what it actually says, “mammon,” which seems to be a name. This is a small quibble: the meaning does just amount to money, but it’s interesting to me that the text and the name both personify wealth—they act as though it’s a person.

A person you can serve.

The main conflict set up here between God and Mammon is that they make competing claims about themselves. Both God and Mammon will tell you that they are trustworthy, that they are providers, and that they are worth of your admiration and worship. That you need them, because only they can provide for you.

And you can only believe one of them.

While overt worship of Jesus is important (think prayer, songs of praise, communion, etc.), what we do with our money demonstrates the truth of who we really worship in new and clarifying ways. So, I would like to propose some practical ways that we can honor our Lord Jesus and handle the money we have.

  1. Trust in Jesus: Give until it changes your lifestyle. Have you ever given so much that it changed your vacation plans? Delayed the purchase of a new car or a new home? Or even something as simple and small as forcing you to skip a lunch out one day? The one story that the Gospels record of Jesus being truly impressed with someone’s generosity was when a little old lady gave a fraction of a penny while others around her gave huge, significant sums. The difference was that she gave the only money she had to live on, while the others gave out of their excess. Their lifestyles were not changed by their gifts; hers was.

    And friends, don’t miss this. It delights our Lord when we sacrifice for the good of others.

  2. Trust in Jesus: Give immediately. Have you ever run into someone who would really be helped by an extra $500 in their bank account? While money isn’t our savior and provider, by giving it away, we can really help lift the burdens of our neighbors. A new set of tires is no big deal until it’s the thing standing between you and providing for your family. Don’t just limit your giving to the weekly collection at church or your World Vision sponsorship. Find the people around you that need help, listen to that small voice inside you, and help lift a burden right then and there.

  3. Trust in Jesus: Give indiscriminately. How often have you talked yourself out of giving money to someone? “They’ll just spend it on drugs,” we assure ourselves. Or “Maybe they’re not really homeless.” There are many excuses, but it amounts to this: precious Mammon is too valuable to risk on this person.

    While wisdom with our money can be good, I would like to propose that we demonstrate what our God is like when we imitate the God who “makes it rain on the righteous and unrighteous,” the God who instructs us to “invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind” into our homes to feast. The people who cannot pay us back, who might not use our money the way we want—indeed, the people who hate us—are fitting recipients of kindness and generosity in God’s kingdom.

  4. Trust in Jesus: Give until it turns to joy. Here’s the heart of the matter. Our hearts are naturally geared to believe that money gives us power and protection. We’re not naturally going to trust in Jesus to provide for us—we’re going to turn to money for that. Giving up wealth feels like embracing weakness, embracing risk, and embracing death. But what if we so trust Jesus to care for us, to do as He promises, that money loses this terrible psychological grip on us? What if generosity became a free and happy thing, knowing that the God of Heaven cares for us? I Believe one of Christ’s goals in our generosity is that we would, ultimately, delight in it. That His gladness would become our gladness and it would overflow in glad, sacrificial generosity.

Some last things to make clear: Giving money doesn’t earn more of God’s love for us or cause Him to favor us with good finances. It is because God loves us that He calls us to love and generosity. It is because God already loves us that we’re called to become more and more like His Son, Jesus Christ, who laid down his life for unworthy sinners because He loves them.

There’s great joy and peace ahead for us friends—and it’s not in hoarding wealth in a world where it can rot and get stolen. It’s in loving our neighbors so well that we come to find we’ve been storing up treasure in Heaven all along.

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What Does God Expect from Us?

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By Larry Short

“We don’t need your money.” After reflecting on Ryan’s fascinating sermon on Acts 5 this past Sunday, that’s what I considered titling this blog. But then I realized the story of Ananias and Sapphira really isn’t about money at all, and so titling what I wrote in that manner could actually be a distraction from what God really wants us to get out of this story.

And what, exactly, does He want us to walk away with now that Ananias and Sapphira are dead and buried?

Certainly, what it isn’t is that somehow we owe God (or our church, or a ministry, or fill in the blank) our money. We’re not told what happened to the money Ananias and Sapphira brought before Peter, but it was probably a sizeable amount (even if they weren’t being honest about the final sales price), so from Peter’s perspective, why rock the boat?

This may be a spoiler, but I also thought about this in the context of Acts 8, where Philip visits Samaria and the Holy Spirit does a major work to form a new church there. One of the new converts is Simon the Magician, who previously wowed everyone with his magic arts. When the apostles come to convey the baptism of the Holy Spirit upon the new converts through the laying on of their hands, Simon observes this and really wants this new “power” for himself. So, he offers Peter a big donation to give him the ability to lay hands on someone and so convey the Holy Spirit to them.

You may recall Peter’s powerful response in verse 20: “May your silver perish with you, because you thought you could obtain the gift of God with money!” In saying this, Peter is no doubt turning away a very hefty donation, but he doesn’t hesitate. His core values are, once again, clear. (And no doubt the painful memory of Ananias and Sapphira falling dead was still in his thoughts!)

So, what core values do each of these stories demonstrate? If God’s not after our money, what is it He really expects from us?

One interesting facet in both accounts is envy. Simon envied Peter and John’s ability. Ananias and Sapphira envied the respect that Barnabus (“Son of Encouragement”) gained through his generous contribution. They, too, wanted to be thought well of, even if they really didn’t have the love and faith required to “give it all” or to tell the honest truth about what they were able to give.

So, they chose to lie about it in order to hopefully bolster their own reputation and gain respect. And as Peter points out, the lie wasn’t merely to the church or its leaders—it was to the Holy Spirit!

It’s clear that money is a tool we sometimes use in ways that might seem good, but are really designed to make us appear different or better than we really are. I think this is a temptation to envy that we all experience. We all want to be seen as generous, kind, and caring individuals. The question is, do we invest the resources God has given us (money or otherwise) in being generous, kind, and caring, or do we invest them so that we may be seen as more generous, kind, and caring? See the difference here? It really matters.

Elim is a family of generous people. A couple of times I’ve been blown away when someone made a truly generous—and anonymous!—gift. For years I’ve wondered, “Could it have been so and so? Or perhaps so and so?” The humility in anonymity raised the tide that raised all boats, so to speak.

But money isn’t the only asset we sometimes use to puff ourselves up. Recently I was discussing with someone online who had raised a question about the meaning of Matthew 23:8-10, “But you are not to be called ‘Rabbi,’ for you have only one Master and you are all brothers. And do not call anyone on earth ‘father,’ for you have one Father, and he is in heaven. Nor are you to be called ‘teacher,’ for you have one Teacher, the Christ.” One conclusion after reflection was that there was nothing wrong with titles like rabbi, father, or teacher (or pastor, for that matter). When Jesus says “you are not to be called [insert title here],” I think what He’s really saying is that you are not to seek such titles of distinction in order to exalt yourself. This falls clearly in line with His instruction throughout the Gospels not to seek the places of honor, but to humble yourself as a servant. Even when two of His disciples asked to sit at His right hand and at His left in His coming kingdom, He made it clear that such a privilege came at the cost of service and suffering (Mark 10:35-45).

As Ryan mentioned, Jesus decried the Pharisees for doing things in order to be seen by others as somehow “more holy”: “They do all their deeds to be seen by others. For they make their phylacteries broad and their fringes long” (Matthew 23:5).

We don’t do phylacteries or fringes, but what is the equivalent for us? Is it our generosity? Ministry position or title? Praying profound public prayers or writing brilliant Last Words?

What does God expect from us? Humility. Honesty. Service. Seeking to build others up before building ourselves and our own reputations. Bringing glory to God rather than to ourselves. Lord, this is our desire, but such things are all much harder for us and go against our “natural” grain, so please help us as we struggle to become more like You in love, humility and service!

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Love, Pride, and Creativity

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By Jason Comerford

I was recently reading up on the life of French artist Henri Matisse, and came across these quotes from an article he wrote: 

Creation is the artist’s true function; where there is no creation there is no art. But it would be a mistake to ascribe this creative power to an inborn talent. In art, the genuine creator is not just a gifted being, but a man who has succeeded in arranging for their appointed end a complex of activities, of which the work of art is the outcome. 

[…] Great love is needed to achieve this effect, a love capable of inspiring and sustaining that patient striving towards truth, that glowing warmth and that analytic profundity that accompany the birth of any work of art. But is not love the origin of all creation? (“Is Not Love the Origin of All Creation?”)

For an artist who was cryptic about his religious beliefs, I think that’s a shockingly insightful take on where true creativity comes from: love is not only important, but at the center of it all. 

Paul says something strikingly similar that you might be familiar with: 

If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. 2And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. 3If I give away all I have, and if I deliver up my body to be burned, but have not love, I gain nothing. […] 8Love never ends. As for prophecies, they will pass away; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will pass away. 9For we know in part and we prophesy in part, 10 but when the perfect comes, the partial will pass away. 11When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I gave up childish ways. 12For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known. 13So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love. (2 Corinthians 13:1-3, 8-13

Paul goes a bit further than to simply say that love is at the center of all things, but he draws out the clear implication. Anything without love is useless and very likely harmful.  

It’s something I experienced in my early days as a photographer, and I suspect the experience is common to many beginning artists: the desire to be excellent and attain mastery instantly kills creative effort because it’s typically born out of an insecure need to be someone great and to be admired by others as great. It’s not born of any love or interest in the subject and art itself; it’s born of a paradoxically proud and insecure love for only oneself. I’ve found it to be one of the greatest roadblocks in growing as an artist, and even now I wrestle with it as I try to learn and grow in new ways.  

Pride kills creativity because pride is the opposite of love. 
  

As Elim continues towards its next season, I think it’s important for all of us to seriously pray and think about our reasons for existing as a church. Why are we here? Why are we involved? As we learn alongside a new pastor, forge new ministries, and preach the gospel in Puyallup, why are we doing these things? Do we build because we love? Or do we build to be seen? Is the good of our community our great delight? Or do we seek to prove ourselves against others? Is it our glad honor to be part of spreading the good news of our Lord’s kingdom? Or do we just want a kingdom of comfort here and now, for ourselves? 

These are crucial questions because in no small part, hard days are probably ahead. Some ministries will fail, and other efforts will take much longer to bear fruit than we’d like. If our motivations really are an insecure need to prove ourselves or a selfish need for comfort here and now, we’ll have no tolerance for trying new things, for repenting when we’re wrong, and for growing slowly into the church we would like to be.  

But if love is at the center of it all? We will continue to sacrifice, continue to love our neighbor, and continue to do good even when it’s hard. 

Pray with me, Elim. Pray that our Lord would make us more and more a people of deep, compassionate, generous, longsuffering love. Other matters of discipline and ministry style are certainly important—but none so much as us actually loving our God and actually loving our neighbors. 

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Being Thankful

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by Geneva Mooney

Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful. Let the message of Christ dwell among you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom through psalms, hymns, and songs from the Spirit, singing to God with gratitude in your hearts. And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him. (Colossians 3:15-17, NIV)

Thankfulness begins in our heart. What our mind, mouth and actions speak our heart says first: A good man brings good things out of the good stored up in his heart, and an evil man brings evil things out of the evil stored up in his heart. For the mouth speaks what the heart is full of (Luke 6:45). When life goes well it can be easy to respond out of thankfulness and in agreement with others, but what happens when life does not go well? When there are challenging circumstances or disagreements that rise up within us, how do you respond? Do you respond with a thankful heart full of grace and love; a heart full of unforgiveness, judgment and condemnation; or a heart full of anxiety and fear? When faced with a wound or hurt do you easily forgive, or do you hold onto that hurt like a child’s security blanket that has been weathered to the point of disrepair? It is not what happens to us that matters, it is how we respond in our hearts, because our words and actions are an expression of our heart. The heart is the wellspring of life (Proverbs 4:23), and the Lord sees the heart.

The Lord is clear in His word on how we are to respond: Love! Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres (1 Corinthians 13:4-7). But what if it is hard to love others when we are faced with those challenges and conflicts? First, we have a mighty Father who wants to do this in us. He wants to be a part of our brokenness, for us to be willing to look deep into our hearts with Him for the unforgiveness and judgments we may have in our hearts from childhood to today. Why?

Because if we do not forgive, we are not forgiven. For if you forgive other people when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins (Matthew 6:14-15). Forgiveness is not excusing the offense, forgetting, denying the hurt or anger, or trusting the offender. Forgiveness is remitting the punishment or canceling the debt – a work of God’s grace in our lives.

We should also bring past and present judgments to an end, because we are judged in the same way if we don’t. Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you (Matthew 7:1-2). Have you ever wondered why you might be just like your mother or father, in a negative way? Could it be judgment? Just in case you were not sure what judgment is, it’s a sinful reaction to hurt – condemning those who hurt us about what they have done and about who they are.

The good news? We have a big God who wants to partner with us and heal us from the inside out. He wants to heal our hearts so our mourning can turn into joy (Jeremiah 31:13), so we can embrace the life He has given us and be thankful for our lives even in the midst of pain. Our Father cannot violate free will, but He is there weeping with you, angry for you. His heart breaks over you. What was intended for evil He wants to use for good, but we must be willing to go into the deep places of our hearts, invite Him in and address those wounds.

We are all sinners in desperate need of a Savior who died on the Cross and was resurrected after three days for all humanity. Let’s take our unforgiveness, judgments and hurts to the Cross, reckoning them dead so that we can have new life. In your struggle against sin, you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding your blood (Hebrews 12: 4). All suffering is meaningful when it is met with love and the resisting of sin.

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Until We All Have Faces Again

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By Jason Comerford

Hey, fellow Elimites. How’s your fellowship with one another going? If you’re like me, it’s been a struggle.

I’ve grown weary of mainly seeing other humans through my computer screen. Zoom meetings are a handy tool, but they’re a poor substitute for seeing one another in person. And let’s not even get started on Facebook. Chatting with my folks from a thousand miles away can’t replace a good hug.

I think at this point, no one would disagree much about the value of seeing each other in person. It’s incredibly important, and we’re hurting from not having it. But as we move our church services from the parking lot back into the building and tackle the practical challenges of being indoors again, I worry about some of the habits we’ve developed in our extended isolation. I’d like to talk about some of the spiritual challenges in, once again, seeing each face to face.

Seeing Humanity

The first challenge is, I think, the more obvious of the two. We’ve lost sight of our brothers and sisters’ God-imaging humanity. That might sound a bit extreme, but I think that’s what interacting largely through social media and computer screens has been training us to do. As C. S. Lewis said in The Weight of Glory:

There are no ordinary people.

You have never talked to a mere mortal.

Nations, cultures, arts, civilization—these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat.

But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit—immortal horrors or everlasting splendors.

We’ve forgotten what it means to work with, play with, and live with beings made in the wonderful image of our creator God. These are the people we argue with, hurt, and dismiss so brazenly online. When we’re in community and facing one another regularly, it’s much harder to dehumanize the human who’s right in front of you. As we step back into community, we’re going to have to embrace the challenge of seeing and treating one another as image bearers of God and not merely as whatever category social media has trained us to see each other as.

Vulnerability

The second challenge is slightly more insidious—and for me, at least, probably the harder of the two. We’re going to have to let others see us again.

Now, that might sound very obvious and, honestly, pretty easy. Just show up, right? But the natural effect of us dehumanizing and judging one another is that we’ve learned to hide ourselves away to avoid that very same dehumanization and judgment. As we treat others, so we expect to be treated. Other people can’t hurt you if you don’t show up, don’t enter into relationship, and don’t embrace the vulnerability required to live in community. There’s risk in being known, and certainly some hurt. But I think, in this season, one clear act of taking up our cross and following after Christ is going to be in our earnest pursuit of relationship. No hiding ourselves away. We’re going to have to look at one another face to face.

Even as the world has tried to train us to view one another through a combative lens, we must  adhere to the teachings of Jesus when he says:

You have heard that it was said, “You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.” But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven. For he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust. For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? (Matthew 5:44-46)

Fellow Elimites, we are not enemies. However, we do ourselves a disservice if we don’t recognize our drift towards viewing one another that way. It is easy to congregate and gather with those we agree with, but there’s nothing Christ-like about that. True Christlike love will gravitate towards and humbly, kindly serve those who would, according to the world, be our enemies. Even within the family of God, we must find a way to apply this teaching. It might even be harder here, but do it we must.

Think and pray about this. Even if you’re not ready to come to an in-person service, consider how you can creatively (and safely) enter back into relationship with your fellow Christians. Our courage in this season isn’t mainly about how we respond to the virus—it’s about how we respond to each other. Will we give grace and wait on it from our brothers and sisters? Or will we come ready to fight?

P.S.—Shout out to all you who are rightly appalled at the blatant theft of my title from C. S. Lewis’s brilliant book Till We Have Faces.

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