Why Your Faith Feels Flat

Please turn for a little time to Colossians—Colossians 2—this evening, beloved. And He thought upon us in our lowest state, praise His name. We’re so thankful for God’s grace and intervention in the great needs of men and the willingness of our God to redeem, save, and keep.

As I was thinking about tonight and trying to encourage thanksgiving in your heart, my mind was drawn here to Colossians 2. We’re going to read the opening seven verses, so give attention to God’s Word. Colossians 2 is a tremendous epistle in which the Apostle Paul exalts the person and work of Christ and also, in a specific way, answers some of the rising threats of heresy emerging in the church. Again, when dealing with heresy, so often the answer is a better understanding of the gospel. That really is what it comes back to. Do we truly understand the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ? If we don’t, we are going to be prone to various heresies and falsehoods, and sometimes we find ourselves, in our ignorance of the gospel, fighting error or heresy by dealing with the fruit issues rather than the root. The gospel gets to the root and helps us understand what we are to believe.

So, Colossians 2, let’s read from verse 1:

“For I would that ye knew what great conflict I have for you, and for them at Laodicea, and for as many as have not seen my face in the flesh, that their hearts might be comforted, being knit together in love, and unto all riches of the full assurance of understanding, to the acknowledgement of the mystery of God and of the Father and of Christ, in whom are hid all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge. This I say, lest any man should beguile you with enticing words. For though I be absent in the flesh, yet am I with you in the Spirit. Joying and beholding your order and the steadfastness of your faith in Christ. As ye have therefore received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk ye in Him, rooted and built up in Him, and established in the faith as ye have been taught, abounding therein with thanksgiving. Amen.”

We trust God will bless the public reading of His precious Word. This is the inerrant Word of God, which you are to receive, believe, and obey. And the people of God said, Amen.

Let’s pray.

Lord, help us as we bring this day to a close, having come in here in the morning and not left the house of God—it has been good for us to be here. We have enjoyed hearing from Thee and Thy Word already today, and our hearts have been enriched as we have prayed together. We thank Thee for the grace that Thou hast given, even as we have experienced a measure of brokenness, as we’ve been made conscious of our need. As we have heard the sincere and necessary prayers of thy people, we have found ourselves in the place of prayer, bearing one another’s burdens. Lord, I pray for each one here—those who express their cares and those who hold onto them in the privacy of their own souls—that thou wilt help us to realize that in the place of prayer is where we will find the victory. Help us to really believe it. Help us to put it into practice consistently. And may we, as a people, prove the sufficiency of Thy grace. Help us now as we consider Thy Word as it is before us here. Bless our time and give to this preacher the Holy Spirit, and to each hear the encouragement that is needed from the precious Word of God, we pray, in Jesus’ name, amen.

One of the challenges of being a Christian is remaining vigilant and zealous as a Christian. We all know the feeling of weariness, of being worn down. We see it in the Word of God—those who find themselves getting weary in well-doing. And even in the first-century church, when there was so much blessing and enrichment for the church as they witnessed powerful things occur, yet still there were those who would grow weary.

You think of how Paul, near the end of his ministry, expresses that he is ready to be offered. He notes there how Demas hath forsaken me, having loved this present world. Now, this is a man who had espoused Christ, professed a love for Christ, given his loyalty to Jesus Christ, and was known within the church—a key player in the ministry at that time. And you might have looked at him and said, “There’s a man who loves the Lord. He loves the Lord, and he did.” At least, to anyone’s guess, looking at him, Demas loves the Lord. But something happened. Demas grew weary. In his case, I think I’ve expressed this before; I’m inclined from the context to think that it was the pressing matter of persecution. Paul’s about to be offered; Demas may have to pay the ultimate price himself, and at that point, his attachment to Christ is found wanting because he still has an attachment to this world in the longing to preserve his own life. “Demas hath forsaken me, having loved this present world.” Persecution, then, can bring a weariness. Trials bring weariness. You see it in the life of Job. The trials that he endured brought a weariness and a difficulty to continue on with hope and expectation.

But sometimes what we deal with is just a lull—just the lull of life—a weariness that sets in upon us spiritually because of the mundane experience of this world. And we find that the zeal that once filled our souls is no longer present. In the ordinariness of our lives, we find the soul becoming flat. There’s no resonance. Our worship is dull. Our prayers lack warmth. And there’s no overflow of our excitement into witnessing.

I mean, various methods have been used over the years to try and get people to witness—to get God’s people to witness. Of course, you can fill them with a sense of guilt, berate them—“Don’t dare go through this week without telling someone about the Lord Jesus Christ”—and try to make them feel really bad about it all. But ultimately, it’s not something you have to drive at or force if there is a natural overflow of joy. I think I’ve shared this before. It stands out every time I think about the way in which we should witness. A dear brother that I used to pray with, much more mature in years and more experienced than I, used to express it in this way: when the risen Christ is in the soul, it’s akin to the tomb. He cannot be contained. He will burst forth out of there and will be known. If you can see your own soul, your own heart, that way—like the tomb—and if the risen Christ truly is there, then the door must be open and the overflow of appreciation and joy will be natural. It doesn’t need then for the preacher to get up and to tell you off to do what you’re meant to do. We are called, then, to live in the joy of what the Lord has done.

But, as I say, weariness is a real experience. And when that happens, of course, it opens the door to things like novelty—a new idea, a new expression of religion, or even of Christianity. The Apostle Paul in Colossians is concerned that the believers in that area are under the influence, or the threat, of ideas and thoughts that would be novel and wrong. And you can see him lay out his burden for them in verse 1 of chapter 2: “‘I would that ye knew, O that ye knew, that you could read my heart what great conflict.’” The idea is care—the care that I feel for you and for them at Laodicea, and for as many as have not seen my face in the flesh. This was part of the challenge. If you had never met the Apostle Paul, it would be hard to know he really loves you. But when in His presence, when under His direct influence, there’s going to be a sense of, “Here’s a man,” and you might be able to find fault and critique in various ways, but I cannot critique His passion. Because here’s a man—as He expresses to the Galatians—“He travailed in birth until Christ be formed in you.” Well, here he’s concerned. And part of it, of course, is Gnostic influence—the idea of where to find wisdom, where to find knowledge. And what does he say? What’s the answer? Verse 3, pointing to Christ, “in whom are hid all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge.” The answer for you, in your search for knowledge and wisdom, and what is to be discovered of meaning in this world, is in Christ. Christ. And you assess it then, you diagnose it, and you think, “How could it be that these people could ever want anything else? How could it be that they would be in any way under threat of being drawn away to something other than Christ?” Well, you get weary. You get dull. That which once captivated your imagination—God sent His Son to be the Savior of the world. This message of the good news is to be sent and preached and heralded to all nations. You, Colossians, this message is for you. Christ died for the ungodly, and you can have all your sins washed away, pardoned freely, that there in Jerusalem. On Mount Calvary, God gave His Son to be a sacrifice for sin and laid our sins upon Him so that by His stripes you can experience healing. And in your pursuit of God, you can get to know the true and living God and be reconciled to Him in a way where you cannot ever be severed or removed from His love. And, of course, many of them had received it. They had come to embrace it. They had been moved to join this.

Verse 4, I’m telling you, it’s in Christ what you need—all the treasure of wisdom and knowledge. And “this I say, lest any man should beguile you with enticing words”—with something novel, something new, something enticing to the flesh. For though I be absent in the flesh, yet am I with you in spirit. My heart is with you, and I rejoice. I am joying, beholding your orders, seeing the steadfastness of your faith in Christ.

Here’s a man of concern. He wants to get ahead of the problem. He wants to attack the threats before it entrenches itself within their souls. The answer for them was to have underlined afresh the gospel—the personal work of Jesus Christ put before them. So, as the Apostle addresses this issue—and, of course, our context is different—but as he does so, he says in verse 6, “As ye have therefore received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk ye in Him, rooted and built up in Him, and established in the faith as ye have been taught, abounding therein with thanksgiving.” Now, he was brought to meditate on verse 7 particularly—to think about this—and really, my focus was actually on the latter part of the verse, “abounding therein with thanksgiving.” Abounding therein with thanksgiving. I thought, that’s what I want. I want for you to abound in thanksgiving.

Of course, the “therein”—the question arises: to what does it refer? Of course, it’s what proceeds in verse 7—it’s the faith. The faith rooted and built up in Him and established in the faith as you’ve been taught, abounding therein in that faith with thanksgiving.

And I’m well aware, beloved, that you have, in your experience, the threat of becoming weary and perhaps even being drawn to novel ideas—maybe especially among the young—because there tends to be, among the young, a proclivity to be drawn after something that is fresh or novel or is presented in a certain way. As you get on in years, you become a little more fixed, and the novel doesn’t seem to have the same appeal, at least to some degree. We’re still susceptible in our own way.

So, I’m not thinking that the particular doctrinal issues that are relevant to the book of Colossians are threatening any of you, but I think the atmosphere with which a new thing can come in is a real thing—just getting weary with the gospel, just not appreciating what it is we have in Christ.

So I’ve titled my message, “Why Your Faith Feels Flat.” Why Your Faith Feels Flat. When you get to this place where it’s just flat—there’s just a kind of nothingness to your experience—you become open then to all sorts of enticements and errors and unhelpful things. And so, whatever those things might be, whatever those concerns or whatever those threats might be upon your soul—I may not know—but I can address the problem, this flat experience within your soul. And the question is, why? Why do we get to this place? How come we become open to new, or, to use the language of verse 4, enticing words?

Well, first of all, because of forgetfulness—because of forgetfulness. Verse 7: “rooted and built up in Him, established in the faith as ye have been taught, abounding therein with thanksgiving.” You can see the way it’s constructed here, part of what the apostle is putting them in remembrance of—what they already know, as ye have been taught. You know these things: being rooted and built up in Christ and established in the faith as you have been taught, abounding therein—abounding in that faith with thanksgiving.

So what happens to believers is they forget these things. They forget the things they’ve been taught. They begin to not reflect upon them helpfully as they should. There’s a number of things that you see that they might forget.

First of all, you forget the grace of your union. You forget the grace of your union. “Rooted” is the word in our translation. Rooted—it speaks of a finished act. It’s the perfect passive participle. So he’s talking about something that happened once. It’s fixed. It’s done. You were rooted. And so this calls us to think upon something that happened in the past as a fixed act. And you forget this. You forget that something happened before in your life. And what happened before in your life, beloved, is that you were rooted—or, to use the language, you were put into Christ. What does it say? “Rooted and built up in Him.” Rooted in Him. It’s this language of union, this sense of being placed into Christ.

Now, you can discuss how Ephesians 1 says that we are chosen in Christ from before the foundation of the world, but there comes a time where it happens in time—in the present—where you are, in a real sense, placed into Christ. And you can say, “There it occurred.” There’s an error—I might go as far as to say heresy, but I’ll pull back from heresy and just say a real unhealthy error where it talks about eternal justification—the doctrine of eternal justification—where people, because of Ephesians 1, say we’re justified; we’ve always been, because we’re chosen in Christ from eternity past; we’re always, therefore, justified. They talk about eternal justification, but it’s not right. It’s erroneous. It’s unbiblical. Because while it’s true we’re chosen in Christ, it happens in time—where you are rooted in Him. You have to be saved. You have to come to Christ. You have to believe in the Lord Jesus Christ and be saved.

And so there comes a decisive moment. And children, you need to understand this. There comes a decisive moment where you must decide, as it were, “Put your soul into Christ.” Say, “Yes, Christ for me. I’m believing, I’m resting, I’m taking His promise to save the sinner, and I’m coming to Him.” And Him that cometh to me, Jesus, says, “I will in no wise cast out.” But we may forget the grace of our union—the glory of being rooted in Him. And this is unhelpful when we forget, as it were, the pit from whence we’ve been digged. We don’t recollect all that the Lord has done for us. But it’s foundational. And all spiritual vitality flows from remembering that we are rooted in Him. Christianity is not some external form. It’s living. It’s vital. We are to abide in the vine. So there’s real life. Many professing believers feel a dryness in their soul because they have functionally divorced their faith from the reality of their union. They don’t consider that, “I can’t be dry, I can’t be dead, I can’t be cold, I can’t be indifferent. I am in Him. I am rooted in Him.” The One who is life Himself—in Him was life, and life is the light of men—and you’re rooted in Him. We forget this, and so we get weary and flat and dull. But it ought not to be. We need to remember.

Also, you forget the grace of your sanctification—the grace of your sanctification. “Rooted and built up in Him.” “Built up in Him” is in the present tense. It’s ongoing. It’s continuous. The experience of being built up in Him, in Christ, is an ongoing experience. And so, you had been taught that, yes, you’re rooted; you’re placed into Christ; you’re in union with Christ; you’re justified freely by His grace through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus. That’s something fixed—that happened, you believed, and were saved. You’re placed into Him and joined to Him, but there’s a building up—an ongoing work built up in Him. And so the foundation has been laid, but there’s a structure that is arising—a work that is being done by the Holy Spirit in your life. This is the doctrine of sanctification: that God is performing something in you. And you think about this—that God is working—we marvel at the work of His creation and all that He has made. And we think then He is doing an ongoing building work. Not in the created world, but in you. He is still working, still actively doing something in you. It’s an amazing thing.

You know, God made the world in six days and promised it all very good and sat back, as it were. There’s His universe, and He, by His providence and His sovereign hand, governs all things by the word of His power. But He is continuing to work. You think of Ephesians 2 again: “For by grace are ye saved through faith, and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God, not of works, lest any man should boast.” We know all that. For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good works, which God hath before ordained that we should walk in them. And so He has this desire: We are being built up in Him—and we forget this. We forget that God, God, is working in me. If you’re saved, if you’re joined to Christ, He is working in you. He can not not. He doesn’t take vacations from this work. He doesn’t take days off from this work. He doesn’t slow down in this work, as it were, and say, “I’m going to relax a little bit.” He is constantly at work, building you up. It’s a wonderful thing. What is He doing? He’s making a habitation for Himself—living stones made into a holy temple.

We think, “Well, nothing really is going on in my life. God’s not at work in my life. God is not really doing anything with me or in me or through me.” Is that so? Not according to the Holy Spirit-inspired Word. You’re built up. You are being built up. He is building you up. He is working in you. So you think, “God is at work in my life.” No, it may be different than the time when you were saved—the time you were saved, He saved you, filled you with a sense of joy that everything is new. He puts you in this bubble, protects you from a lot of temptations and trials, and you’re going on zealously and joyfully. And then He begins to—He wants to see those muscles grow. He wants to see growth in you. So there are times of testing and trial and difficulty. And in those trials and difficulties you think He has withdrawn—but no, He’s not. He’s actually as close as ever, building up the spiritual muscle, strengthening you in the inner man. But you forget this. You forget. You think, “My life has gone dull and the Lord is not near me anymore.” No, He is. He is. Passive voice—you are being built. Even the language of it, even the grammatical structure of verse 7—“rooted and built up in Him”—shows that sanctification is not a sole work of man’s grit and determination. He is at work. He is the one building up sanctification by grace and working in your heart, working in your life, using means—even like preaching like this, and you reading the Word faithfully and singing His praises and spending time with His people and so on. But you forget it. You forget it. And you start to get dull, and you think, “Oh, we need something fresh. We need something new. I want a new experience.” And so you come, and you’re beguiled with enticing words. Oh, may the Lord deliver us. Help us to remember the grace of our union, the grace of our sanctification, and also the grace of our perseverance, established in the faith. Established in the faith—you are in a place where you’re meant to keep going on. You must be firm in this faith. You must stay by the truths that you were taught. Remain there. Don’t move.

You can imagine their thinking—some of them may have been adopting, or certainly open to the possibility—not of abandoning Christianity, but synchronizing it, trying to pull the new ideas in. Well, Christianity would be better if we just added in this other idea. We supplement it, and so you have Christian Gnostics. But it’s erroneous. Christ doesn’t want anything to compete with Himself—not interested in your attention being drawn to anything but Him, the sufficiency of His person and His work and all that He has accomplished for you. And you’re established in the faith. You’re to stay there in what you’ve been taught.

You children, you’ve been taught the catechism, taught the Word of God, and you’re taught these truths. And what I hope you discover as you mature is that your mind—as you grow, and you experience life and your own story in this life—you find your heart and mind going back to things you were taught, and you barely remember not knowing. And you keep going back and going, “How precious is that truth that I have known nearly all my life?” You walk through your life and face these trials, and all of a sudden, in the midst of them, He comes to your heart with a truth that you’ve known for years, and yet it never really mattered to you as much as in that moment. Established in the faith—staying there, right there where the Lord has planted you.

So we forget that this is what He is doing. He wants us to stay, to persevere—not to move, not to drift, not to seek new ideas, not to pursue other things—but to be established in the faith, the faith, the Christian faith, the articles of faith that are Christian.

So our forgetfulness—because of forgetfulness—we get into the state of being flat and looking for something else. But also because of our heartlessness. Our heartlessness: rooted and built up in Him, established in the faith as you’ve been taught, abounding therein with thanksgiving. Abounding therein—abounding in that faith that we’ve already considered. You’re to abound in it—not just to appropriate it, believe it, mentally assent to it. You are to abound in it. You’re bound. You’re to be excited about it. You’re to be moved by it. You’re to find joy in it. You’re to say, “Isn’t this an amazing thing that the Son of God took on flesh and died for sinners?” This is amazing. All the believers—and I count myself in this rebuke—would go around and people would go, “What has gotten into you? What is wrong with you?” And they ask the questions. “What’s going on?” And you tell them, “It’s amazing. God’s Son died for my sins.” And they look at you like you’ve lost it a little bit. You walk in the next day, and He’ll say, “What’s up with you?” It’s the same thing. It’s the same response. It’s amazing. It’s even more amazing today because I’ve sinned more since we last discussed this. And still, the blood of Jesus cleanses me from all sin. It’s even more amazing than it was yesterday. They start looking at you. They start—maybe go to your boss. They say, “I think he needs some vacation time or maybe needs to go somewhere to get help.” You say, “No, no, I’m abounding in this.” And we may have been there at some point in our life. And you say, “Yes, I remember. I remember a time when these truths, this faith, was very much at the forefront of my thought. And I abounded therein. I abounded there. I abounded in that faith.” And so things like evangelism and service to the Lord, gathering to worship Him, and whatever else I could do—I did with a real spring in my step. But maybe not so much now. What’s changed?

There was an elderly lady who was part of the church in Calgary, and she was never an active part of the congregation when I went there. She already was in care. And every time I would go to see her—nearly every time, definitely nearly every time, if not every single time—I went to see her, she would have expressions that exuded a sense of lacking assurance. And I would try to reassure her, encourage her, and remind her of the simple, basic gospel promises that were just as true the day I was uttering them as they were when she first cast anchor into Christ. But one of the things she used to say was, as she would lament and feel like the Lord was distant from her, she would say, “Who moved? Who moved?” That’s a question, isn’t it? “Who moved? Did God leave me or have I left the Lord? Who moved?”

So you recall to your mind a bounding in the faith. You’re pounding at it, but not so much now. You’ve stagnated. You are flat. You are heartless. Why? And this is not unusual. I mean, the great Ephesian church—this Ephesian church is one of the church of churches. Paul spent three years there ministering. They were strong. They knew their doctrine. They knew the gospel. And they could fight. And when he writes his letter to them, “Revelation, I know thy works, thou hatest the Nicolaitans,” they knew the truth. But, I have something against thee—“Thou hast left thy first love.” Often misquoted: “We’ve lost our first love.” No, you haven’t. No, you have not. Those are very different things. When you lose something, you do so unintentionally—“Where’d I put my keys? I don’t remember.” But when you leave it, when it’s there and you leave it, it’s intentional, and you know exactly where it is. The problem is not finding it, it’s going back. And that’s what believers do. We don’t lose our first love in some way; we’ve mislaid it—we don’t know where to find it. No, you know. You know, you know the sin. You know the discipline—or lack thereof. You know the relationship. You know what it is that brings the charge that you have left your first love.

Paul says, “No, no, no, no, no.” I want you to abound—rooted and built up in Him, established in the faith as you’ve been taught, abounding therein, abounding in this faith. Why does your faith feel flat? Because of your forgetfulness, because of heartlessness, but also because of thanklessness. With thanksgiving—abounding therein with thanksgiving. This shows the vitality. Thanksgiving—thanksgiving is evidence of vitality. You’re not just to abound in a sentimental way in the faith. So you know the truths; you haven’t forgotten them; you remember them; and you’re abounding in it, but it is to be expressed in very intentional thanksgiving, where you’re taking what you know, rejoicing in what you know concerning Christ and your standing in Him, and what He’s doing in your life—making you more holy and so on—and you’re taking all of that and then you’re expressing it upward toward the Lord in thanksgiving.

Now, we all know this. We know this with regard to relationships. We know it. The Lord is so wired and sets everything in motion in our experience so that there are correlations that we can easily relate to. So why does God require? You say, “God can see my mind. He can see that I appreciate what He has done. He can see that I’m even joyful in it.” But He wants it expressed, and you know that feeling. You parents know it. You don’t want your children growing up and saying, “Well, you know that I’m thankful.” Well, it’d be nice if you expressed it sometimes—if you just said, “Thank you, Mom.” You know, every meal that’s set down in front of you, all the things that are done—there your clothes are, washed, neatly tucked into the drawer, and they’re all there for you. Everything’s always vacuumed. Everything’s always done for you. Everything is in order. Things are where they belong. Why? Not because of you, but because of Mom. And it would be nice sometimes if we just said to Mom, “Thank you, Mom.” You know, express it—not just have it like, “Oh, Mom, you know I’m thankful.” Say it. We know this. God requires gratitude to be offered to Him, expressed to Him, to ascend to Him as testimony.

Psalm 40: “I waited patiently for the Lord, and He inclined unto me, and heard my cry. He brought me up also out of an horrible pit, out of the married clay, and set my feet upon a rock, and established my goings. And He hath put a new song in my mouth, even praise unto your God. Many shall see it, and shall fear, and shall trust in the Lord as testimony.” The world is meant to see your gratitude to your God.

So, why is your faith flat? Well, because of these things: forgetfulness, heartlessness, and thanklessness. And if you get a hold of these things—if you start really understanding and remembering that you’re rooted and built up in Him, established in the faith, and all the things we have considered pertaining to those—and you abound with heart in the faith, and do so with thanksgiving, then you will not be vulnerable to new enticing words. Because you will say, “To whom else can we go? Thou hast the words of eternal life.” You’ll not be interested in anything but Jesus Christ. And all the world may forsake Him, just like happened there in John 6, when multitudes turned their back and left Jesus, and the disciples were left; and as I’ve just said, Jesus asked the question, “Will ye also go away? Why would we go away? Why? Why would we do that?” Everything we need is right here in you. And you’ll feel the same way. You’ll not be open to all the new ideology, all the nonsense, and the next trend in churches and Christianity so-called. You’ll not be open to that because you’re living in a vibrant experience and reality of what you have in Jesus Christ—remembering daily what you have in Him. I am rooted. I am being built up. I am called to be established in this faith. And I abound therein. It’s the joy of my life. And I express it publicly and unashamedly to the world. This God is my God, and He will be my guide even unto death. That’s what the world needs to see. That’s what needs to be true in every one of our hearts.

If not, then you’ll be asking, “Why does my faith feel flat?” Get back to these truths. It will come alive. May God give us grace.

Let’s bow together in prayer. Maybe there is, despite the fact we’ve had a day of prayer, someone here who is walking afar off. Like Peter, you’re in the crowd of unbelievers. You’re being swayed by their influence. You’re warming yourself at the fire of the world, and your love for Christ is dim. The Lord is putting His finger right on you, and He is saying, “Return, O backsliding Israel, return. Repent and do the first works.” You will not regret it. And if I can be of any help to you, and you need God’s Word to be opened and for prayer to be offered on your behalf, please don’t go home without requesting the help you need.

Lord, bless thy precious word. Help us to retain what we have considered today. We ask, oh God, for the grace to be what we’ve been called to be. There are not many mighty, not many noble, are called; and thou hast chosen the weak to confound the mighty. Help us then to appreciate the love that thou hast shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost, and to embrace our standing in our Savior. I pray for the young people tonight. Remember them and the temptations that they face—the allurements and enticements that come their way. Please let them remember what they have been taught and abound therein with thanksgiving.

Continue with us through this week. Do remember, as the fires have been raging, we thank you for this rain as an answer to prayer. We thank the Lord for hearing us. We pray it will rain even more heavily and all those fires will be put out. We pray, God, again, spare our community. Hear then these, our requests. Be with us, O God, through the week, filling us with the Holy Spirit and with joy and peace and believing. May the grace of our Lord Jesus, the love of God our Father, and the fellowship of the Spirit be the portion of all the people of God, now and evermore. Amen.