hymns to my heart's content. including the gloria patri, whose awkward strains and beloved lyrics surface from long-term storage. jianti zi and fanti zi interchangeably and unself-consciously alternate on the slides alongside painfully incompetent english. it is a time capsule of a church service and quite attractively vintage.
unfortunately the sermon is anodyne and just a little bit theologically wonky*. 'nuff said.
*on the meaning of suffering except it fails to talk about self-inflicted suffering before waxing on God-permitted suffering and we all know the self-inflicted bit can be fearsome too.
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