Psalm 8, Acts 17:22-34
Cynthia O’Brien
"Earth and all Stars"
August 28, 2005
PS 8:1 O LORD, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!
You have set your glory above the heavens.
PS 8:2 From the lips of children and infants you have ordained praise
because of your enemies, to silence the foe and the avenger.
PS 8:3 When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers,
the moon and the stars, which you have set in place,
PS 8:4 what is man that you are mindful of him,
the son of man that you care for him?
PS 8:5 You made him a little lower than the heavenly beings
and crowned him with glory and honor.
PS 8:6 You made him ruler over the works of your hands;
you put everything under his feet:
PS 8:7 all flocks and herds, and the beasts of the field, PS 8:8 the birds of the air,
and the fish of the sea, all that swim the paths of the seas.
PS 8:9 O LORD, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!
AC 17:22 Paul then stood up in the meeting of the Areopagus and said: "Men of Athens! I see that in every way you are very religious. 23 For as I walked around and looked carefully at your objects of worship, I even found an altar with this inscription: TO AN UNKNOWN GOD. Now what you worship as something unknown I am going to proclaim to you.
AC 17:24 "The God who made the world and everything in it is the Lord of heaven and earth and does not live in temples built by hands. 25 And he is not served by human hands, as if he needed anything, because he himself gives all men life and breath and everything else. 26 From one man he made every nation of men, that they should inhabit the whole earth; and he determined the times set for them and the exact places where they should live. 27 God did this so that men would seek him and perhaps reach out for him and find him, though he is not far from each one of us. 28 `For in him we live and move and have our being.' As some of your own poets have said, `We are his offspring.'
In Sunday School, the little ones were learning about creation. The teacher asked, “Who made the sun?”
The students said, “God!”
“Who made the moon?”
“God!”
“Who made the stars?”
“God,” they all said, except for Tyler, who said, “Grandma.”
When the teacher asked him about it, Tyler stuck by his story, that Grandma made the stars.
Later the teacher caught up with the grandma and told her about it. The grandma reacted with surprise: “O, my stars!”
When was the last time you were out at night and looked at the stars? Has anyone been camping this summer or away from the city and looked at the stars? I did when I was up in Leavenworth earlier this summer, since the artist’s guild is located in a valley where there is hardly any artificial light. Also, earlier this summer there was a night when I heard the weatherman on the late news say that the moon appeared very large, and I hadn’t seen it, and since I live on the northwest side of Gresham Butte I had to get in my car and drive around in the middle of the night looking for a good view.
Psalm 8 reminds me to look up.
PS 8:3 When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers,
the moon and the stars, which you have set in place,
This is a night time scene. Over the last couple of weeks, we have reflected on some texts that have beautiful daytime imagery, “For the beauty of the earth,” “the birds their carols raise, the morning light, the lily white”
But I see the opening of Psalm 8 as a night time scene. In the day, you can look around at what God has made on the earth. But at night, when you lift your eyes you look far beyond the earth.
We are fascinated by space. When Canadian astronaut Marc Garneau returned from a flight on the space shuttle, someone asked him what was most memorable. He said, “The view of the Earth! It was incredibly beautiful. The hardest thing I had to do up there was tear myself away from the window.”
Fewer than 500 people have had that view. Only 12 have actually walked on the moon. But now, our generation has been able to reach out to space through robot probes and powerful telescopes and photographs.
The night sky has a powerful attraction for us, at least for me. When I was about 12 years old, my mom went to work for Jet Propulsion Laboratory and NASA in Pasadena, and over the 20 years she worked there she brought home all the latest color photographs from Voyager, pictures of the moon and planets and space. In college I took an astronomy class and subscribed to Astronomy magazine and went out late at night to look through telescopes. Even now, when I read that the Perseid Meteor Shower is coming, I always mark it on my calendar even though I can’t usually go out to Rooster Rock in the middle of the night with the astronomy club.
When you look at the stars, you are seeing history. You are not seeing what they are now, but what they were, decades or centuries ago.
If you are 75 years old and you look at the Big Dipper, you are seeing those stars as they were when you were born. It takes that long for the light to get from there to here. They are 75 light years away.
Other stars you see are 7,000 light years away, yet they are still part of our galaxy, the Milky Way. There is one other galaxy that you can see with the naked eye. It is the nearest one to us, the Andromeda Galaxy, and you can find it in the late fall sky directly south of the constellation Cassiopia’s famous W shape. It looks hazy because it is two million light years away. And that’s the nearest galaxy.
Now, the Hubble space telescope can detect galaxies 13 billion light years away. In 1996 it made a landmark photograph – They pointed the telescope at an unremarkable piece of sky that is about the size of a grain of sand held at arm’s length, about the size of a dime 75 feet away. They made an exposure for 275 hours – Most pictures you take are a fraction of a second, this was 10 days. This image penetrates deep into space. Everything you see here is a galaxy. This yellow spiral galaxy is about 800 million light years away.
We marvel at supernovas and quasars. We wonder at black holes and dark matter.
People in ancient times had many questions about the universe. Carl Sagan said, “Finally, in our generation, the answers we seek are within our reach.” I say, some of them are, many are not. Our increasing knowledge about the universe does not stop us from wondering how it all began, who, if anyone, created it, and what our place is in it.
PS 8:3 When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers,
the moon and the stars, which you have set in place,
This is God’s work. It rolled off God’s fingertips. God set the moon and stars in place.
Space is mostly empty space, even though the photographs make it look like there’s a lot there. In one episode of “Cosmos,” Carl Sagan took a big straw and a bowl of soapy water to demonstrate this. He blew bubbles in it and explained that the galaxies are arranged as if they were on the surface of bubbles in your bubble bath. The stars are on curved planes, with lots of empty space in the bubble, and they bump into other curved planes of galaxies. But, he said, he wasn’t saying whether he knew if there was a bubble blower who arranged them.
You may have heard how some people are advocating teaching “Intelligent Design” in the schools. Proponents of ID say that life was created, although it is silent about who that creator might be.
It doesn’t flatly reject evolution. The movement’s main positive claim is that there are things in the world, most notably life, that cannot be accounted for by known natural causes and show features that, in any other context, we would attribute to intelligence. Living organisms are too complex to be explained by any natural—or, more precisely, by any mindless—process. Instead, the design inherent in organisms can be accounted for only by invoking a designer, and one who is very, very smart.
All of which puts I.D. squarely at odds with Darwin. Darwin’s theory of evolution was meant to show how the fantastically complex features of organisms—eyes, beaks, brains—could arise without the intervention of a designing mind.
We believe that God designed and created our universe, and not only that, but God made human beings. When David wrote this, he juxtaposed the greatness of the heavens with his small self.
PS 8:4 what is man that you are mindful of him,
the son of man that you care for him?
This line demonstrates tremendous humility, but people haven’t demonstrated a tendency towards being humble. We believe we are special because we are naturally self centered. Ancient people believed that the sun, moon, planets and stars all revolved around us, and who could blame them? When astronomers discovered red shifts that indicated that other stars and galaxies were moving away from us, not slowly, but at millions of miles per hour, who could blame them for believing that our galaxy was the center of the universe?
Now we know that we spin around on this medium sized planet around a medium sized star that is located on an edge of a spiral galaxy that is one of an unrecordable number of galaxies.
If a man is small in comparison to creation, a man’s son is even smaller. Let’s look back at verse 2
PS 8:2 From the lips of children and infants you have ordained praise
because of your enemies, to silence the foe and the avenger.
Little weaklings are powerful to God. Nursing babies and toddlers can silence the enemies of God. We are learning something complicated about humanity: We are weak, but God has given us a place of honor, and the responsibility to care for the creation.
By the universe’s standard’s we are insignificantly small and unimportant. But God has given us a speical place in this universe. We have the ability to know God and understand our world. This should do two very important things for us. It should makes us humble, and it should also remind us that we are special to God, the apple of his eye. In ourselves, we are nothing. To God, we are precious. And that is perhaps even more wondrous and awe-inspiring than the greatest mysteries of the universe.
The hymns that we are singing today remind us of these mysteries, if we will pay attention.
JOYFUL, JOYFUL WE ADORE THEE was written by Henry van Dyke graduated from Princeton, served as a pastor for 20 years and became a professor of English Literature. While serving as guest preacher at Williams College, he wrote a hymn, and presented it the next morning to President Garfield saying, "Here is a hymn for you. Your mountains were my inspiration. It must be sung to the music of 'Beethoven's Hymn to Joy.'" which is from Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony. The poem was first published in 1911 and it was called “Joyful, Joyful, We Adore Thee.” It included these words:
All Thy works with joy surround Thee, Earth and heaven reflect Thy rays, Stars and angels sing around Thee, Center of unbroken praise.
Later, van Dyke wrote about it: "These verses are simple expressions of common Christian feelings and desires in this present time, hymns of today that may be sung together by people who know the thought of the age, and are not afraid that any truth of science will destroy religion, or that any revolution on earth overthrow the kingdom of heaven. Therefore these are hymns of trust and joy and hope."
EARTH AND ALL STARS
The hymn “Earth and All Stars” by Herbert F. Brokering is a modern treatment of psalms such as Ps 19 “the heavens are telling the glory of God.” It was written for a Lutheran University and has many more verses includingClassrooms and labs, Loud boiling test tubes Sing to the Lord a new song! Athletes and band, Loud cheering people Sing to the Lord a new song!
Monday, August 29, 2005
Monday, August 22, 2005
Sermon: My Father's World
“My Father’s World”
Cynthia O’Brien
August 21, 2005
Healing service
ISA 55:12 You will go out in joy
and be led forth in peace;
the mountains and hills
will burst into song before you,
and all the trees of the field
will clap their hands.
ISA 55:13 Instead of the thornbush will grow the pine tree,
and instead of briers the myrtle will grow.
Maltbie L. Babcock was born in Syracuse, New York in1858 into a socially prominent family, At Syracuse University, he was a champion baseball pitcher and an outstanding varsity swimmer. His friendliness, coupled with a magnetic personality, made him a natural leader. In the years that followed, he was ordained into the Presbyterian Church and had a distinguished ministry in Baltimore and New York City's Brick Presbyterian Church. He died at the age of 43, while on a Mediterranean tour. Rev. Maltbie Babcock would, by now, be totally forgotten except for one thing: he wrote a song.
He was a skilled musician and a lover of nature. He enjoyed the "great out of doors." While pastoring a church in Lockport, New York, Rev. Babcock was in the habit of taking morning walks to the top of a hill north of Lockport where he had a full view of Lake Ontario and the surrounding countryside. He would say to his wife, "I'm going out to see my Father's world." It was on one of these early morning walks that he was inspired to write these words:
This is my Father’s world, and to my listening ears
All nature sings and round me rings the music of the spheres.
This is my Father’s world, I rest me in the thought
Of rocks and trees of skies and seas, his hand the wonders wrought
This is my Father’s world, the birds their carols raise,
The morning light, the lily white, declare their maker’s praise
This is my Father’s world, he shines in all that’s fair
In the rustling grass I hear him pass, he speaks to me everywhere
Have you ever had a mountain top experience? That’s what we called it when I was in junior high, when we went to camp, you went up the mountain, like when Moses went to meet the Lord, then you came down the mountain, back to school, back to your parents, down to find your heathen friends worshiping the golden calf, so to speak.
I was a camp kid all the way. Starting in Junior High, I went to church retreats every winter and church camp every summer. I also attended a deeply Christian YMCA camp on Catalina Island every summer, and became a perennial counselor and staff person for them over about 10 years. That’s where I took first place in the backgammon tournament, that’s where I learned to row a boat and swallow goldfish, that’s where I had my first kiss, that’s where I fell into a cactus, that’s where I played my guitar until my fingers bled, that’s where I first taught younger people about God. Just mention Catalina and I am back at the place where God is.
And they weren’t really goldfish, they were canned peach slices that we kept in a big bucket of water, pulled them out and wiggled to make them look alive.
Funny how we reach far back in our lifetimes to remember these mountaintop experiences. Fran Sunderland wrote to me of an experience she had:
When I was in junior high I attended a church camp at Silver Creek Falls, now known, I think as Silver Falls. Part of our daily routine right after having breakfast was to go solitary to a place one chose to have devotions. I remember sitting on a slight rise looking down over the small creek and being surrounded by large and numerous fir trees. It was a wondrous sight and one I carry in my memory to this day. It was during this week, being outdoors and having quiet time, that I really began to feel and think of God more closely and deeply by what I viewed from my perch. It was then I my faith became more real to me and I am still awed by His creative hand.
It may not sound like thunder and lightening, but that experience was so meaningful to Fran that it is the one she chooses to tell, some six decades later.
Mountaintop experiences. When you looked out over that vista and you heard the birds sing, even the music of the spheres, when you felt like the planets were aligned and you were at one with the universe. Whether you were on a retreat, or on vacation, or you had a meaningful conversation with someone important, or heard an inspiring message, whether you were hearing some wisdom for the first time, and it was coming to you in a play or in a song. For the time that you were looking at that painting, or hearing that message, you were focused, you were hearing clearly, you were lifted to a higher place.
This is the mountain top experience, when we get away from the distractions of the newspaper or tv, the neighbors, the job, the housework, maybe even from the family, where it’s just you and your best or worst self and God, waiting to be discovered.
It’s on the mountaintop that we find out God is real, that God loves us, that God wants to talk to us. It’s on the mountaintop that we see things as they once were, when God created Paradise, before it was spoiled. It’s on the mountaintop that we get a vision of what we could be, if the way were only clear. God rules on this mountaintop, and that’s the reason we love it so much.
--
We used to sing a song in my high school youth group
And I’d love to live on a mountaintop, fellowshipping with the Lord…
cause I’d love to feel my spirit soar
But I’ve got to come down from the mountaintop, to the people in the valley below
Or they’ll never know that they can go to the mountain of the Lord.
So the mountaintop was not a place you could stay. You had to come down, if only to promote the retreat center to the pagan unbelievers then get yourself back up there where it’s nice.
Well, we do talk about coming down off the mountaintop. Oftentimes we call it “back to reality.” As in, “How was your vacation?” “Great, but now it’s back to reality.”
When we say “reality,” we usually mean, back to the house and the housework, back to work and my insane boss, back to school and having to get up early, back to bad news about Iraq and politics and why do I have to spend $50 on paper towels and markers and paints for my kids’ classroom?
For some of you, “reality” means living with someone who doesn’t treat you well. Not having enough money for the things you need. Spending every morning going to a doctor or trying to straighten out your health care. Worrying about things and people for good reason.
The mountaintop was good, but now here we are. It’s enough to make you discouraged. You were in a place where you said, “This is my Father’s world.” You heard the bees buzz and the birds sing. You were at one with the universe. You saw things as they might have been, as they could be again. But now, “back in reality,” the mountaintop seems like a dream. It was a nice escape, but it’s not real.
Others before me have suggested what I’m about to suggest: Let’s think of the mountaintop as being the reality. Let’s say that reality is what God created and what God rules. It’s not an escape, it’s not a dream, it is the ultimate reality, that God is Lord of creation. God rules that world. It’s love, joy, peace and all the attributes of God. It’s not a retreat, not a getaway.
That’s good news. The great news is that the same creator who made your Paradise, who created your Mountaintop place, is also the creator and ruler of the world you live in. Maybe you work in a place where management yells or cheats. Or you live on a street where all your neighbors are letting developers build homes in between the homes. Or the generation gap is so wide at your family that you’ve given up trying to understand.
God rules your world, too. The God who made the birds sing and the planets converge on your mountaintop is also in the city. God rules your world, and God is just as near as when you were having that lovely moment together.
Rev Babcock didn’t just write about his hilltop view. He had a third verse that talked about how God is the ruler of our troubled world:
This is my Father’s world, O let me ne’er forget,
That though the wrong seems oft so strong, God is the ruler yet.
Then he looked forward to the hope of the future:
This is my Father’s world, the battle is not done
Jesus who died shall be satisfied and earth and heaven be one.
Read in Rev. 21, how this heaven and this earth will pass away, but there will be a new heaven and earth. It won’t be a return to the Garden of Eden, in fact, it’s not a nature scene at all. It is a city, the new Jerusalem, and God will dwell with the people in the city.
It’s easy to see God’s rule in nature. It’s harder to see it in our so-called “back to reality”. So let’s be reminded of this good news:
God cares for you. No matter what you’ve done, or how you’ve messed up, God loves you. And he forgives you. Remember the words we read after our prayer of confession:
PS 103:11 For as high as the heavens are above the earth,
so great is his love for those who fear him;
PS 103:12 as far as the east is from the west,
so far has he removed our transgressions from us.
And when your body is falling apart, when you have a migraine or you’re diagnosed with a serious disease, when your heart is aching with loneliness or when you’re filled with anger, God has compassion on you, too. That’s why we pray for healing, because God is compassionate.
I hope you have had some great mountain top experiences, especially the times when you’ve come away with a sure sense of God’s love for you. And when you come back to this part of your life, recognize that God’s rule is the reality, and God rules our daily life just as much as those special times. God wants to be near you now, as well as on your retreat. God wants to forgive you now. God wants to heal you now.
Cynthia O’Brien
August 21, 2005
Healing service
ISA 55:12 You will go out in joy
and be led forth in peace;
the mountains and hills
will burst into song before you,
and all the trees of the field
will clap their hands.
ISA 55:13 Instead of the thornbush will grow the pine tree,
and instead of briers the myrtle will grow.
Maltbie L. Babcock was born in Syracuse, New York in1858 into a socially prominent family, At Syracuse University, he was a champion baseball pitcher and an outstanding varsity swimmer. His friendliness, coupled with a magnetic personality, made him a natural leader. In the years that followed, he was ordained into the Presbyterian Church and had a distinguished ministry in Baltimore and New York City's Brick Presbyterian Church. He died at the age of 43, while on a Mediterranean tour. Rev. Maltbie Babcock would, by now, be totally forgotten except for one thing: he wrote a song.
He was a skilled musician and a lover of nature. He enjoyed the "great out of doors." While pastoring a church in Lockport, New York, Rev. Babcock was in the habit of taking morning walks to the top of a hill north of Lockport where he had a full view of Lake Ontario and the surrounding countryside. He would say to his wife, "I'm going out to see my Father's world." It was on one of these early morning walks that he was inspired to write these words:
This is my Father’s world, and to my listening ears
All nature sings and round me rings the music of the spheres.
This is my Father’s world, I rest me in the thought
Of rocks and trees of skies and seas, his hand the wonders wrought
This is my Father’s world, the birds their carols raise,
The morning light, the lily white, declare their maker’s praise
This is my Father’s world, he shines in all that’s fair
In the rustling grass I hear him pass, he speaks to me everywhere
Have you ever had a mountain top experience? That’s what we called it when I was in junior high, when we went to camp, you went up the mountain, like when Moses went to meet the Lord, then you came down the mountain, back to school, back to your parents, down to find your heathen friends worshiping the golden calf, so to speak.
I was a camp kid all the way. Starting in Junior High, I went to church retreats every winter and church camp every summer. I also attended a deeply Christian YMCA camp on Catalina Island every summer, and became a perennial counselor and staff person for them over about 10 years. That’s where I took first place in the backgammon tournament, that’s where I learned to row a boat and swallow goldfish, that’s where I had my first kiss, that’s where I fell into a cactus, that’s where I played my guitar until my fingers bled, that’s where I first taught younger people about God. Just mention Catalina and I am back at the place where God is.
And they weren’t really goldfish, they were canned peach slices that we kept in a big bucket of water, pulled them out and wiggled to make them look alive.
Funny how we reach far back in our lifetimes to remember these mountaintop experiences. Fran Sunderland wrote to me of an experience she had:
When I was in junior high I attended a church camp at Silver Creek Falls, now known, I think as Silver Falls. Part of our daily routine right after having breakfast was to go solitary to a place one chose to have devotions. I remember sitting on a slight rise looking down over the small creek and being surrounded by large and numerous fir trees. It was a wondrous sight and one I carry in my memory to this day. It was during this week, being outdoors and having quiet time, that I really began to feel and think of God more closely and deeply by what I viewed from my perch. It was then I my faith became more real to me and I am still awed by His creative hand.
It may not sound like thunder and lightening, but that experience was so meaningful to Fran that it is the one she chooses to tell, some six decades later.
Mountaintop experiences. When you looked out over that vista and you heard the birds sing, even the music of the spheres, when you felt like the planets were aligned and you were at one with the universe. Whether you were on a retreat, or on vacation, or you had a meaningful conversation with someone important, or heard an inspiring message, whether you were hearing some wisdom for the first time, and it was coming to you in a play or in a song. For the time that you were looking at that painting, or hearing that message, you were focused, you were hearing clearly, you were lifted to a higher place.
This is the mountain top experience, when we get away from the distractions of the newspaper or tv, the neighbors, the job, the housework, maybe even from the family, where it’s just you and your best or worst self and God, waiting to be discovered.
It’s on the mountaintop that we find out God is real, that God loves us, that God wants to talk to us. It’s on the mountaintop that we see things as they once were, when God created Paradise, before it was spoiled. It’s on the mountaintop that we get a vision of what we could be, if the way were only clear. God rules on this mountaintop, and that’s the reason we love it so much.
--
We used to sing a song in my high school youth group
And I’d love to live on a mountaintop, fellowshipping with the Lord…
cause I’d love to feel my spirit soar
But I’ve got to come down from the mountaintop, to the people in the valley below
Or they’ll never know that they can go to the mountain of the Lord.
So the mountaintop was not a place you could stay. You had to come down, if only to promote the retreat center to the pagan unbelievers then get yourself back up there where it’s nice.
Well, we do talk about coming down off the mountaintop. Oftentimes we call it “back to reality.” As in, “How was your vacation?” “Great, but now it’s back to reality.”
When we say “reality,” we usually mean, back to the house and the housework, back to work and my insane boss, back to school and having to get up early, back to bad news about Iraq and politics and why do I have to spend $50 on paper towels and markers and paints for my kids’ classroom?
For some of you, “reality” means living with someone who doesn’t treat you well. Not having enough money for the things you need. Spending every morning going to a doctor or trying to straighten out your health care. Worrying about things and people for good reason.
The mountaintop was good, but now here we are. It’s enough to make you discouraged. You were in a place where you said, “This is my Father’s world.” You heard the bees buzz and the birds sing. You were at one with the universe. You saw things as they might have been, as they could be again. But now, “back in reality,” the mountaintop seems like a dream. It was a nice escape, but it’s not real.
Others before me have suggested what I’m about to suggest: Let’s think of the mountaintop as being the reality. Let’s say that reality is what God created and what God rules. It’s not an escape, it’s not a dream, it is the ultimate reality, that God is Lord of creation. God rules that world. It’s love, joy, peace and all the attributes of God. It’s not a retreat, not a getaway.
That’s good news. The great news is that the same creator who made your Paradise, who created your Mountaintop place, is also the creator and ruler of the world you live in. Maybe you work in a place where management yells or cheats. Or you live on a street where all your neighbors are letting developers build homes in between the homes. Or the generation gap is so wide at your family that you’ve given up trying to understand.
God rules your world, too. The God who made the birds sing and the planets converge on your mountaintop is also in the city. God rules your world, and God is just as near as when you were having that lovely moment together.
Rev Babcock didn’t just write about his hilltop view. He had a third verse that talked about how God is the ruler of our troubled world:
This is my Father’s world, O let me ne’er forget,
That though the wrong seems oft so strong, God is the ruler yet.
Then he looked forward to the hope of the future:
This is my Father’s world, the battle is not done
Jesus who died shall be satisfied and earth and heaven be one.
Read in Rev. 21, how this heaven and this earth will pass away, but there will be a new heaven and earth. It won’t be a return to the Garden of Eden, in fact, it’s not a nature scene at all. It is a city, the new Jerusalem, and God will dwell with the people in the city.
It’s easy to see God’s rule in nature. It’s harder to see it in our so-called “back to reality”. So let’s be reminded of this good news:
God cares for you. No matter what you’ve done, or how you’ve messed up, God loves you. And he forgives you. Remember the words we read after our prayer of confession:
PS 103:11 For as high as the heavens are above the earth,
so great is his love for those who fear him;
PS 103:12 as far as the east is from the west,
so far has he removed our transgressions from us.
And when your body is falling apart, when you have a migraine or you’re diagnosed with a serious disease, when your heart is aching with loneliness or when you’re filled with anger, God has compassion on you, too. That’s why we pray for healing, because God is compassionate.
I hope you have had some great mountain top experiences, especially the times when you’ve come away with a sure sense of God’s love for you. And when you come back to this part of your life, recognize that God’s rule is the reality, and God rules our daily life just as much as those special times. God wants to be near you now, as well as on your retreat. God wants to forgive you now. God wants to heal you now.
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