Anchored in Faith
The Might and Majesty of Nature
Close your eyes for a moment. Let your senses tune in to the might and majesty of nature. Listen closely. Can you hear it? The relentless roar of the vast, deep ocean, waves crashing with unbridled fury. The shrill cries of the wind, whipping and swirling, a force both awe-inspiring and terrifying.
You're no longer in the confines of this sanctuary; you're on a ship, adrift amidst the stormiest of nights. The vessel, though sturdy, is at the mercy of the elements. With every rolling wave, it's lifted high only to be dropped into the troughs of the vast liquid mountains, groaning under the strain. Saltwater sprays across the deck, as sailors clutch the rails, fighting to maintain their footing, their shouts barely audible over the cacophony of nature's wrath.
The darkness is near total, the moon and stars cloaked behind thick clouds, leaving only the occasional flash of lightning to reveal the enormity of the tempest. Each ship in this vast expanse, though distant from the other, faces the same peril, their paths unknown, their fate uncertain.
But just when despair threatens to sink deep, a glimmer emerges from the void. At first, it’s nearly imperceptible, a mere flicker. But as the ships draw closer, it grows stronger, brighter. Through the dense fog and rain, a beacon of hope shines - the lighthouse. Majestic and unwavering, it stands tall against the tempest, its light cutting through the gloom like a radiant sword. It's not merely a fixture of stone and light but a symbol, a promise.
You can open your eyes.
To the sailors, this isn’t just a route to safety, it's an affirmation. A testament that amidst life's most tumultuous storms, amidst the waves of challenges and torrents of doubts, there exists a constant, an steadfast guide.
A Cacophony of Distractions
Because in the vastness of the ocean, a ship without a compass is lost. It’s a small instrument, but its significance is monumental. This navigational tool discerns direction when all seems alike. However, a ship's journey is filled with distractions: conflicting winds, deceptive currents, and even the allure of unknown lands. It takes a skilled sailor to trust the compass, to rely on its steadfast guidance, even when everything else points in a different direction. So it is with our lives. We are constantly bombarded by voices that tell us where to go, how to think, and what to do. There's a cacophony of distractions, each more enticing and demanding than the last.
The allure of materialism, the seductive call of instant gratification, and the siren song of societal approval often drown out our inner compass of spiritual direction. This week we're going to be in Colossians 3 - so if you have your Bible, go ahead and open it up, we're going to start right at the beginning.
“If then you were raised with Christ, seek those things which are above, where Christ is, sitting at the right hand of God. Set your mind on things above, not on things on the earth.”
When Paul penned these words to the Colossians, he was addressing a community torn by different philosophical and spiritual views. They too grappled with distractions, not unlike our modern-day dilemmas. In this epistle, Paul doesn't merely remind them of their identity in Christ but also provides a directional focus, much like that trusty compass on a ship.
Seeking "those things which are above" is a clarion call to elevate our gaze, to look beyond the immediate and immerse ourselves in the eternal. The North Star, in its silent splendor, doesn't force ships to follow it, but it remains a reliable point of reference. Christ, in His resplendent glory, calls us to a similar unwavering focus, a unity in purpose.
In practical terms, setting our minds on things above requires intentional efforts.
Daily Devotions: Immersing ourselves in God's Word daily is akin to a sailor routinely checking his compass. It recalibrates our thoughts, aligns our actions, and offers direction. Even a few moments of scripture-focused mindfulness can set the tone for the entire day.
Gratitude Practice: Remember the calm after a storm? The profound relief and gratitude a sailor feels when he touches solid ground? A heart steeped in thankfulness perceives God's hand even in the minutiae of life. It's no surprise then that a heart full of thanks indeed sails smoother seas. Like a ship, majestic and in its prime. It’s faced many a storm and emerged unscathed. Yet, as we’re about see in the next part of Paul’s letter, that over time, without the proper care, it can gather barnacles beneath and rust can corrodes its hull. The ship's once robust momentum wanes, making it susceptible to even the mildest of storms. Continue with me in vv. 5-9.
“Put to death therefore what is earthly in you: sexual immorality, impurity, passion, evil desire, and covetousness, which is idolatry. On account of these the wrath of God is coming. In these you too once walked, when you were living in them. But now you must put them all away: anger, wrath, malice, slander, and obscene talk from your mouth. Do not lie to one another, seeing that you have put off the old self with its practices”
See, the unchecked sins — the barnacles and rust of our lives — can become hindrances in how effectively we’re following the Lord’s guidance.
And Paul, in his profound wisdom, begins by identifying the overt sins. The "sexual immorality, impurity, passion,” and “evil desire" he speaks of aren't just individual issues, but rather, they’re symptomatic of a heart wandering away from guiding light of the lighthouse, of the Lord’s guidance.
Specifically, there are four elements of sinful sensuality that must be executed.
The first is “sexual immorality” (v. 5), porneian, from which we get the word pornographic. It means every kind of immoral sexual relation. Paul’s call to the pagan culture was radical in its day, and it’s almost just as radical today.
The second element of sensuality that we are to kill is “impurity” (v. 5), moral uncleanness. This is wider and subtler than physical immorality, for it embraces the lurid imagination, speech, and deed of a sensual heart or filthy mind.
The third element is “passion” (v. 5), the shameful emotion that leads to sexual excesses. Paul used the same word to describe the passionate lust of the Gentiles who do not know God (1 Thessalonians 4:5).
The fourth element of sensuality is “evil desire” (v. 5)—wicked, self-serving, rapacious lust.
What a deadly quartet we have here, and Paul said it must be slain outright. A violent metaphor – one that so clearly expresses pain and effort. Killing naturally means tears and blood, but here it means even more.
As Alexander Maclaren said:
“It is far easier to cut off the hand, which after all is not me, than to sacrifice passions and desires which, though they be my worst self, are myself.”
Yet, it’s important to notice, that in this list of sins dealing with sensuality that we must put to death, Paul concludes with "covetousness," a subtle yet insidious desire. And that’s because in the original language and the way that Paul is using it, it doesn’t merely refer to the definition that we so often think of.
No, what Paul is referring to is not just the desire for more, the desire for things that others have and that we want, or the desire to possess more than someone else has, but it’s a desire for what doesn't rightfully belong to us.
And the mention of this at the end of a list of sexual sins is highly significant, for Paul is telling us that it is intimately associated with them. It is really another form of the same evil desire, except that it is fixed on material things. See, often when sensuality loses its hold, materialism takes its place. And when Paul then elevates this desire to the status of "idolatry" – it’s a stark reminder of the gravity of misplaced priorities. And the transition from seeking sensual pleasure to chasing material gains isn’t coincidental; both derive from a misplaced source of satisfaction. As the adage goes: a man intoxicated by wealth is as lost as one drowned in wine. Because, and I’m paraphrasing something Josh said many sermons ago, when we dive into God’s Word, when we seek Him, it leads to action. And in our case today, as dire as the situation seems, Paul's message isn't one of hopelessness. Embedded within is a call to transformative action. To transformation. Not a passive transformation, mind you; it's a rigorous, active "putting to death" of our sinful nature, namely sensuality and materialism/covetousness.
This is serious business, because both these sins, as we learn, provoke the wrath of God: “On account of these the wrath of God is coming. In these you too once walked, when you were living in them” (vv. 6, 7). Paul’s message is clear:
since we have died and have been buried,
resurrected,
and ascended with Christ,
since we have been made full of his fullness,
there are some things we must put off:
namely, sensuality and materialism. We are to slay them, regardless of the blood and the pain!
We are also to put off evil attitudes and speech: “But now you must put them all away: anger, wrath, malice, slander, and obscene talk from your mouth. Do not lie to one another” (vv. 8, 9a).
Jonathan Edwards’ Daughter
It is said that Jonathan Edwards, third president of Princeton and America’s greatest thinker, had a daughter with an ungovernable temper. As is often the case, the problem was not known to the outside world. A young man fell in love with this daughter and sought her hand in marriage.
“You can’t have her,” was the abrupt answer of Jonathan Edwards.
“But I love her,” the young man replied.
“You can’t have her,” said Edwards.
“But she loves me,” replied the young man.
Again Edwards said, “You can’t have her.”
“Why?” asked the young man.
“Because she is not worthy of you.”
“But,” he asked, “she is a Christian, is she not?”
“Yes, she is a Christian, but the grace of God can live with some people with whom no one else could ever live.”
So it is with the believer filled with “anger, wrath, malice” (v. 8).
The “anger” described here is growing, inner anger, like sap in a tree on a hot day that swells the trunk and branches until they are in danger of bursting.
“Wrath” is that anger boiling over. We see it in a quick temper. “Malice” bespeaks a viciousness of mind. It is the malignant attitude that plans evil and rejoices when misery falls on the one it hates, like Haman’s glee in building the gallows for Mordecai (Esther 5:14). These evil attitudes must be put away.
Further, “slander” (v. 8) will follow—that is, hurtful speech that defames another’s character. This rust in the hull, left unchecked, will turn into “obscene talk from your mouth” (v. 8)—foul, abusive speech. Do not naively suppose that such things do not exist among professing believers. They can, and do.
Paul continued, “Do not lie to one another” (v. 9a). Lying is a great sin against God, against the Church, and against love. That is why God struck down Ananias and Sapphira in the first church. He wanted truth, not deception, not hypocrisy. “Therefore, having put away falsehood, let each one of you speak the truth with his neighbor, for we are members one of another” (Ephesians 4:25). I’ll even put it like this: A great church demands great honesty.
Paul’s message is unmistakable: Pursue radical spiritual transformation. This isn’t merely about avoiding things, about not doing certain bad things, but pursuing an active embrace of God’s design for us. It's a journey of shedding the old to adorn the new. It’s a commitment to regularly inspecting and maintaining our spiritual vessel. For in doing so, we ensure our journey is not just one of motion, but one directed by the steadfast beacon.
To truly understand the transformation Paul speaks of, let's continue reading from vv. 10-14:
“and have put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge after the image of its creator. Here there is not Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave, free; but Christ is all, and in all.
Put on then, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience, bearing with one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other; as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. And above all these put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony.”
Imagine a seasoned ship, a grand vessel that has journeyed through the calmest waters and faced the fiercest storms. Over time, it has collected barnacles and damage, each marking a challenge it has encountered. The worn-out deck, with its scars and slightly chipped edges, narrates tales of battles with nature's wrath. In these markings, we see reflections of our own lives. Like the ship, our souls bear the scars of personal trials, mistakes, and the sins that occasionally beset us. These are not mere blemishes but stories, lessons, and often, calls to reflection. Just as a storm has the capacity to drown a ship, unchecked sins and behaviors have the power to disrupt entire communities. Pastor Jeff Cramer at Westminster Calvary Chapel in Westminster, Colorado puts it like this:
“A storm in one heart can stir the waters for many.”
With this quote he just encapsulates the interconnectedness of our actions and their broader repercussions. And as such, the ship's crew knows that to face future voyages, they must attend to the vessel. They scrub off the barnacles, repair torn sails, and mend the worn-out deck, renewing the ship to its full glory. Similarly, Paul's teachings guide us in a spiritual rejuvenation, urging us to shed old burdens and to adorn virtues by transformation from within.
I love how Paul begins this new section in v. 12 with a welcome and a soothing description of believers: “God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved” (v. 12). What is remarkable is that each of these three titles was an honored Old Testament appellation for Israel, “God’s chosen ones.”
Being Transformed
And as “God’s chosen ones,” how are we to be transformed?
By putting on:
Compassionate hearts
Kindness
Humility
Meekness
Patience
Compassionate Hearts
The first trait is to have “compassionate hearts.” The old King James Version renders this more literally, “bowels of mercies” because the original word in the Greek that’s used here literally refers to the stomach or entrails - where so much of our emotion is felt.
Paul is telling us here that if we are new creatures in Christ, we must be compassionate people. John Perkins, in his book Let Justice Roll Down, tells about a time of dark, extended discouragement in his life when he was ill and seriously thinking of giving up the struggle. Then he met a Dr. Roberts. In Perkins’s words: “Dr. Roberts was one of the few white persons I had contact with at that time, and she—well, she met me on the level of my humanity and not just on the theological level preferred by so many church folks.” Dr. Roberts saw him through his great crisis with her merciful compassion. This is something of what we are called to—every one of us! All of us must be tenderly merciful.
The ancient world, apart from Biblical revelation, was merciless. The maimed and sickly and aged were discarded; the mentally ill were subjected to inhumanities. But Christianity brought compassion, and it still does. “It is not too much,” says William Barclay in his commentary on Philippians, Colossians, and Thessalonians, “It is not too much to say that everything that has been done for the aged, the sick, the weak in body and in mind, the animal, the child, the woman has been done under the inspiration of Christianity.” The gospel brings with it sympathy and tenderness of heart.
Kindness
The second trait is simply, kindness (also v. 12). And although it’s a simple trait, how easy is it for our natural default to not necessarily be kindness? The Greek word here translated “kindness” is a lovely word for a lovely quality. It is also used to describe wine that has grown mellow with age and has lost its harshness, and it was the same as used by Jesus to describe his yoke: “my yoke is easy” (Matthew 11:30).
Humility
Humility – what a virtue. One of those things that as soon as you’re aware you have, you now don’t – by nature. But it’s the same trait and the same word that’s used here was also used to describe Christ’s humbling himself by becoming obedient to death (Philippians 2:8). Christians are called to serve God (Acts 20:19) and one another (Ephesians 4:2) with all humility and lowliness. Jesus himself invited his followers to learn from him, as he was lowly in heart (Matthew 11:29).
Jesus was not suggesting a cringing, groveling servant-hood; nor was he teaching his followers to think poorly of themselves. Rather, the lesson for us to learn from this, is that He was teaching the necessity of the absence of self-exaltation. He wanted us to have nothing of the arrogant pride that Churchill evidently saw in Sir Stafford Cripps when he remarked as Cripps walked by: “There, but for the grace of God, goes God.”
I’ll put it this way: one who has humility knows three things:
who God is,
what mankind is,
and who he or she is.
Meekness
You know the verse, the meek shall inherit the earth, right? Well I think if anyone other than Jesus was saying that verse, someone who was really just – well – meek, I think that phrase would have been delivered as, “The meek shall inherit the earth—if that’s okay with everybody.”
And then their symbol could be a traffic light just forever on yellow. And I joke, because isn’t that how we think of meek people? Of meekness? As gentlessness to the point of weakness?
Well, I’ll tell you this: nothing could be farther from the truth. Behind the gentleness of a biblically meek person is a steel-like strength, for the supreme characteristic of the meek believer is that he or she is someone who is under control. So lets define it like this: meekness is strength under control. And that’s not just my definition. Don’t just write it down because they handed me the mic today.
Numbers 12:3 tells us that Moses was the most “meek” (KJV) man on earth, but at the same time Moses was a man who could act decisively, be as hard as nails, and rise in anger at the proper time. Those exhibiting the trait of gentleness/meekness are immensely powerful people, for they are controlled by God.
Patience
The final trait is “patience,” long-suffering in the face of insult or injury (v. 12). This is one of the fruits of the Spirit (Galatians 5:22), and it means more than just enduring difficulties or passive resignation to the circumstances. It is based on a lively, outgoing faith in God.
So just as rust and barnacles can encumber a ship, so too can sin weigh down our spirits. But with Christ, we find the strength to scrub away the old and sail anew. A diligent crew knows the art of restoration. With concerted effort, they scrub away the barnacles, repair the sails torn by gusty winds, and mend the once robust deck that time has worn. It's a labor of love, respect for the vessel that has carried them through thick and thin. In much the same vein, Paul's teachings in Colossians serve as a spiritual manual for soul maintenance.
Calm Waters
And now on our journey, we’ve come out from the other side of the storm to calm waters, still under the watchful gaze of the lighthouse. The sky, once a canvas of menacing clouds, now dawns hues of pastels and golds. The crew having once battled fierce winds and mighty waves, now stand together, reveling in the calm. Their bonds are stronger, their laughter louder, and in their eyes, there's a gleam of gratitude. This isn't just the relief following a storm; it's the harmony of souls who've journeyed through the storm together.
Colossians 3:15-19 reads:
“And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom, singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, with thankfulness in your hearts to God. And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him. Wives, submit to your husbands, as is fitting in the Lord. Husbands, love your wives, and do not be harsh with them.”
A ship doesn’t meander aimlessly in the vastness of the ocean. Every movement, every direction it takes, is deliberate and purpose-driven. Beneath the orchestrated dance of the sails and the hum of the sailors lies an innate understanding: they are all headed towards a common horizon. Every hand on deck, from the captain to the deckhand, is vital. Each has a role, and when combined, their concerted efforts create harmony – and seafaring precision. This unity, this synchronicity, is what Paul alludes to when he speaks of the church, the body of Christ, and the Christian home. Each believer, regardless of their role, is crucial in the larger tapestry of God's kingdom. Paul's message is just as potent and just as clear as ever: As the crew is to the ship, we are to the body of Christ, moving with purpose, direction, and in unity under His guidance. I mean, think about it - with countless souls embarking on diverse journeys across the planet, no one is alone.
Have you heard the phrase, “I came into this world alone, and I’m going to leave it alone.” As a follower of Christ, my response is – “No you didn’t. And no you aren’t.” The Bible gives us a different sentiment: No matter how alone you may feel, no matter how solitary the journey may seem, you’re not alone. Whether you're battling a storm or reveling in calm waters, God is with you. And the power of Christ's peace is beyond words. It's an anchor in turbulent times, a compass when we're lost, and much needed water to our weary and thirsty souls. But Paul doesn't stop at just seeking peace. He urges for gratitude — a deep, heartfelt appreciation for the journey, the lessons, the ties that bind us, and above all, for God's unwavering and steadfast love.
R. E. O. White, the British preacher, observed regarding the fullness that these verses command:
“The surest sign that you are carrying a full bucket is wet feet.”
That is true to our experience, is it not? Whenever we attempt to carry a full bucket to clean the floor or wash the car, we always get wet feet! And when our lives are full, they will overflow. Our actions must say that Jesus is and does exactly what he claims! Just a few seconds of sin can disgrace the greatest of names.
What a responsibility we have! The fullness of Christ comes from an overflow of his peace and his Word and his name. It is also seen in our thankfulness. Notice that we told three times to have thankfulness. Verse 15 ends with, “And be thankful.” Verse 16 concludes with, “thankfulness in your hearts to God.” Verse 17 says, “giving thanks to God the Father through him.” The most direct of these is in verse 15, “And be thankful.” Literally it says, “become thankful,” because we are to keep on striving for a deeper gratitude than we have yet attained. Full pails cannot help but overflow. Paul's message extends to our personal relationships too. He emphasizes the sacred bond between husbands and wives, urging them to navigate their journey with love, respect, and kindness.
Paul’s words to us in the Christian home is: “Wives, submit to your husbands, as is fitting in the Lord” (v. 18).
Did you feel the change in the room when I read that? I know of few statements that will as quickly rouse division within our culture than this.
But – guess what? There it is. Right there in God’s Word, and as such, we must resist those who would explain it away. It is God’s design for fullness. Are there qualifications? Of course. “Submit” is not a synonym for just absolute servile, menial bondage. The message is to free, responsible Christian households, and - can only be heeded voluntarily. Moreover, no one, ever, is being called to follow it into sin or irrationality or harm of any kind. “We must obey God rather than men” (Acts 5:29). This is a charge for Christians who are living as Christians.
And as such, the Christian ethic for a husband’s love for his wife was light-years beyond the formal domestic ethics of the day.
“Husbands, love your wives, and do not be harsh with them.” (v. 19)
Here the commandment to men is just as radical as that to women. As Eduard Lohse in his commentary on Colossians and Philemon actually mentions that such a command does not appear in any of the extra-Biblical household rules of the day. A command for husbands to love their wives didn’t appear outside of the Bible in that time. Really? But Paul is calling men to more than just, “ooo you give me butterflies when I see you.” He’s calling men to agape love, an unceasing care and loving service for the wife’s entire well-being. Again, light-years beyond the formal ethics of the day, and sadly, in many cases, still light-years ahead.
A parallel passage (Ephesians 5:25–33) gives the archetype of the love that is called for here, especially verse 25: “Husbands, love your wives, as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her.” There you go. Wow. You could put it like this: Paul’s radical command to love is only fulfilled when a husband loves his wife in imitation of Christ’s love for us.
Now, before we conclude today, I want to read from something that I hold pretty dear.
Colossians 3:23
In my office, there hangs a framed page, positioned strategically so that it's the last thing I see as I leave and the first thing that catches my eye when I sit down each day. It's a page from a Geneva Bible. The Geneva Bible is pretty important as it’s the first mass-produced Bible with verse numbers. And this particular page was printed, and then by hand lined in red ink (which is now pretty faded) 426 years ago in 1597.
Now, what I think is just incredible is that I didn't acquire this page with any prior knowledge that we’d be doing a sermon series on Colossians, and I didn’t know that I would be preaching on Colossians 3 – which is just so happens to be the exact chapter this page has on it. I actually acquired this as it has a verse on it that is incredibly important to me. Col. 3:23. There was a time in my life when the work that I was doing was making me bitter from the inside out. And that time was before I ever came to New Hope. Just wanted to specify. But there was a time back then that I felt like each and every day was a waste. I know that it wasn’t, but I still had thoughts like, “What am I doing with my life?” “I need to be in the church.” “I need to be in ministry.” And it’s easy to look back now and almost lessen those times, with thoughts like, “Well it all worked out. Awesome!” But I had no idea that was the plan in those days. And then there I was one night, reading through Colossians and I came to the section of Col. 3:22-25.
“Bondservants, obey in everything those who are your earthly masters,[a] not by way of eye-service, as people-pleasers, but with sincerity of heart, fearing the Lord. Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the inheritance as your reward. You are serving the Lord Christ. For the wrongdoer will be paid back for the wrong he has done, and there is no partiality.”
See – these “nothing” tasks (as I had categorized them) were actually noble when done for Christ. At the end of verse 22, Paul adds that our work is to be done “fearing the Lord.” The pagan slave served his master because he was bound by fear; the Christian slave served his master better because he feared God. Working hard at our tasks from the heart brings glory to God. Our lives will be full when we do our very best, “not by way of eye-service, as people-pleasers, but with sincerity of heart, fearing the Lord” (v. 22).
I’m going to go ahead and call the worship team back up to the stage, and as they make there way up here, Gerard Manley Hopkins put it this way, and I love this:
“Smiting on an anvil, sawing a beam, white-washing a wall, driving horses, sweeping, scouring, everything gives God some glory if being in His grace you do it as your duty.”
He is so great that all things give Him glory if you mean they should. If your motivation is toward worshipping Him in all you do. In following the beacon in the fog, “not by way of eye-service, as people-pleasers, but with sincerity of heart, fearing the Lord” (v. 22).
This page that hangs in my office doesn’t hang there because I think it’s cool – I do think that, but that’s not the point – it’s a daily reminder of the timeless nature of God's Word. Every day, as I pass by this page, I'm reminded not only of how God was able to turn my bitterness into worship and service, but also of the connection that I share with believers from nearly 4 and a half centuries past. Those who've read these words, who've found strength, guidance, and comfort in them, much like we do today.
At the end of the day it’s important to be mindful of, focused on, and thankful for the enduring spirit of God's Word.
Communion
You know, as we enter into our time of communion, the original Greek word for “thankful” used in Col. 3, is the word eucharesteo, from which we get the English word Eucharist, another, fancy, word for the Lord’s Supper—a time for giving thanks. So let me encourage you think of the Word of God as our eternal lighthouse, guiding us through the storms, calm waters, and everything in between - and the sacrament of the Eucharist, the Lord’s Supper, or Commuion, as the harbor where we, as believers and followers of Christ, gather, refuel, and find peace. No matter how tumultuous the journey, "When we anchor ourselves in faith, the storms may come, but they will not sweep us away." So just take a moment to reflect on the immense sacrifice Christ made for us and acknowledging the profound love and grace bestowed upon us. Full pails, indeed, cannot help but overflow. It's a love that transcends time, a love that binds us all. Let’s pray, and then you can take of the elements:
“Heavenly Father, we come before You with hearts full of gratitude. Thank you for the eternal Word that has guided generations before us and continues to light our path today. As we partake in the Lord’s Supper, may we be filled with your Spirit, reflecting on the immense sacrifice of Your Son, Jesus Christ, and seeking Your strength, guidance, and presence. Bless our community, draw us closer in unity and faith, and may we always be anchored in Your love and truth. Amen.”