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David as King: Conflict Leads to Gospel-Centered Worship

David as King: Conflict Leads to Gospel-Centered Worship

2 Samuel 2–6

Main Idea: In the midst of conflict and as he experiences divine favor, David moves the ark to Zion and reveals the substance of gospel-­centered worship.

  1. God’s Favor in Conflict
  2. The Punishment from an Offensive God
  3. The Problem of God’s Presence
  4. The Gospel According to the Ark
  5. David’s Response to the Gospel


The more a person steeps himself in the stories of 1 and 2 Samuel, the more he may suspect that the author rather enjoyed the bizarre and risqué. Folks get hacked to pieces, ghosts come back from the dead, sexual exploits (and their graphic consequences) are described in disturbing detail. True to form, 2 Samuel 2–6 does not disappoint.

We have battle where hundreds die, betrayal and murder, political intrigue and assassination, and even a coronation. To top that off, the text records a story where David gets naked and dances before the Lord! Awkward. Cue the snickers from the middle-school crowd—and the middle schoolers at heart.

Second Samuel 6, however, gives contemporary readers a glimpse into the true nature of worship. While we may not strip down to our skivvies and dance our hearts out like David, we have much to learn from this shepherd king about the way the gospel informs proper worship.

Worship has always been a contentious aspect of church services, and contemporary theological arguments prove that this debate has hardly subsided. On one hand, many Christians from Reformed and Catholic traditions prefer worship that is predictable, time-honored, and orderly. They find overly expressive forms of worship uncomfortable, possibly even arrogant and showy. On the other hand, many Christians from the Pentecostal tradition find this type of worship stiff and lacking the Spirit. We yell like madmen at basketball games, for crying out loud, so why should we come before God with less enthusiasm?

There is more to the debate, of course, than these two sides—which we’ve oversimplified to heighten the point. But it is sadly true that worship style tends to divide Christians more than unite us, while far too few of us consider the core of biblical worship—in other words, worship substance. Whether we are Presbyterian hymn singers or Pentecostal back-flippers, David has something to teach us. Before we get there, however, we need to understand how God maintains his favor for David in the midst of terrible conflict.

God’s Favor in Conflict

After the death of Saul and Jonathan (1 Sam 31–2 Sam 1), David has a window to step into the authority God had already granted him. So God gives David the go-ahead to move to Hebron, and the men of Judah anoint David the king over Judah (2 Sam 2:4). David then begins to consolidate his authority and reign (vv. 5-7). It looks like things are going well until conflict comes.

Abner, who was the commander of Saul’s army, takes Ish-bosheth and makes him king over Israel. Ish-bosheth was Saul’s son, and he has a terrible name. His name literally means “Man of Shame.”[9]He reigned over Israel, and David ruled over Judah. This is to provide a glimpse of the division that will take place in the book of Kings, where the northern kingdom of Israel is primarily wicked, but the southern kingdom of Judah maintains its faithfulness slightly longer than the north.

Ish-bosheth’s kingdom and David’s kingdom inevitably engage in conflict and civil war. The battle lines derive from those who are loyal to Saul and those who are loyal to David. We should know by now God’s perspective on the matter: Saul’s kingdom was doomed, so anyone who follows him will be brought to shame; but David’s kingdom is favored and chosen by God to be the instrument through which God will bless the nations. As God’s plans cannot be thwarted, we see the power of divine favor on David:

The war between the house of Saul and the house of David was long and drawn out, with David growing stronger and the house of Saul becoming weaker. (3:1)

Eventually even Abner comes to David’s side. This was short-lived because through a set of circumstances recorded in 2 Samuel 3, Joab (who was David’s commander) did not trust or like the fact that Abner came to David’s side. Part of this, no doubt, was personal and stemmed from the fact that Abner had killed Asahel, Joab’s brother. As a result and in an act of revenge, Joab murdered Abner. David mourned the loss of Abner, the short-lived ally, because he was a king who wanted unity rather than disunity.

The conflict between Israel and Judah finally came to an end when Ish-bosheth was assassinated (2 Sam 4). And he is not just assassinated; he is humiliated. Two men called Rechab and Baanah perform the grisly deed. They stabbed him in the stomach, decapitated him, and then brought his head to David at Hebron. David is not impressed. Instead of greeting this news with joy, he recognizes it as an affront. He has the two men executed, has their hands and feet cut off, and hangs them. He took the head of Ish-bosheth and buried it in the same tomb in which Abner was laid.

Some immediate questions arise from this story:

  • Why do the two men cut off Ish-bosheth’s head?
  • Why does David react so badly, to kill and mutilate these men?
  • Does God approve of these actions?
  • Do these actions have the stamp of God’s favor?

Each of these questions is important, but they can be grouped into pairs: the first two go together, and the last two go together. So taking them in turn, the bodies are mutilated and Ish-bosheth’s head is severed most likely because these were shaming acts. In other words, both were unnatural deaths and involved a shaming of the man. Remember, this is an honor-shame culture. Rechab and Baanah wanted not just to defeat Ish-bosheth but also to shame Saul and his dynasty. As a result, they mutilated Ish-bosheth and thereby brought shame to his entire household. Likewise, David responds by shaming the two men and their household. Mutilating the bodies with hands and feet cut off recalls the fate of the Dagon idol in the Philistine temple (1 Sam 5). David, with utmost sincerity and resolve, denounced the actions of the men by shaming them. Displaying their bodies would ensure that anyone who saw what they did would know it was disgraceful. In a backhanded way David honored the house of Saul with his actions against Rechab and Baanah. He was appalled that they would do this to Ish-bosheth while he was alone, defenseless, and in his bed—no man should die like that (2 Sam 4:11).

But does God approve of these actions, and do we gain God’s favor by doing such horrific and violent things? These last two questions go together. We do not believe God was necessarily pleased with any of these horribly violent acts.

  • There is no divine command demanding these actions.
  • There is no mention from the narrator (who often presents the perspective of God) that these actions were good in the eyes of God.

Because of this, we are comfortable saying God did not love the actions of David, Rechab, or Baanah. The text describes the actions but does not prescribe the actions. Just because these actions of violence happened in the past, it does not follow that these actions serve as blueprints or patterns for our actions as we follow God today. In fact, quite the opposite! Jesus said we are to love our enemies and those who slander us (Matt 5:44). We are not to repay evil for evil (Rom 12:17). We are to be known, as the apostle John says, by our love (1 John 4).

Still, the chapters present the gritty, real, raw, and horrific realities of people on the ground, trying to figure out how to live their lives before God. God does not lift Himself out of these dirty realities, but He does condescend in His grace to work redemptively in those less-than-ideal circumstances. This passage is a hallmark example of how the Scriptures present not the best world or the ideal world, but they do present the real world. That is good, because in the horrific presentation of reality, we can still see a God who maintains favor with an imperfect king like David to achieve His purposes through him. This is good news for you and for me. If God only worked with perfect people, then we would be out of luck (and God would not have anyone to work with)!

After the horrible assassination of Ish-bosheth, all the tribes of Israel made pilgrimage to Hebron to see David and install him as king. David’s installation as king was followed by his defeat of the Jebusites and the establishment of Jerusalem as his capital (2 Sam 5:6-10). The Phoenecians honored him as he was installed as king (vv. 11-12). David brought rest to the people as the Lord defeated the Philistine threat that had plagued Israel for so many years (vv. 22-25). After his installation the question arises as to what kind of king David will be. As we will see, he will be by no means perfect. But David would still receive divine favor since he would be the instrument through which God would bring blessing to all peoples. David would be a man who worships the Lord.

The Punishment from an Offensive God

David again assembled all the choice men in Israel, 30,000. He and all his troops set out to bring the ark of God from Baale-judah. The ark is called by the Name, the name of Yahweh of Hosts who dwells between the cherubim. They set the ark of God on a new cart and transported it from Abinadab’s house, which was on the hill. Uzzah and Ahio, sons of Abinadab, were guiding the cart and brought it with the ark of God from Abinadab’s house on the hill. Ahio walked in front of the ark. David and the whole house of Israel were celebrating before the Lord with all kinds of fir wood instruments, lyres, harps, tambourines, sistrums, and cymbals.

When they came to Nacon’s threshing floor, Uzzah reached out to the ark of God and took hold of it because the oxen had stumbled. Then the Lord’s anger burned against Uzzah, and God struck him dead on the spot for his irreverence, and he died there next to the ark of God. David was angry because of the Lord’s outburst against Uzzah, so he named that place an Outburst Against Uzzah, as it is today. David feared the Lord that day and said, “How can the ark of the Lord ever come to me?” So he was not willing to move the ark of the Lord to the city of David; instead, he took it to the house of Obed-edom the Gittite. (2 Sam 6:1-10)

The ark, we recall, was the wooden box God had instructed Israel to build shortly after the exodus from Egypt. It was overlaid with gold, inside and out, and topped with a “mercy seat” that had two golden angels facing each other. This ark was placed in the innermost part of the tabernacle, in what the Jews called the most holy place, which was intended to be the place where God’s presence would dwell.

Remember, however, that at the start of this story the ark is not in Israelite possession. As we saw in 1 Samuel 5, their disobedience led them to lose massively to the Philistines, and part of the Philistine spoil was the ark. The Philistine leaders, at first, were thrilled to have such a lucky weapon in their new arsenal. But through a series of strange events, beginning with the decapitation of the Philistine idol Dagon and culminating in an outbreak of tumors, mice, and death, the Philistines decided the ark was more trouble than they could handle. They strapped it to an oxcart and pointed it back to Israel.

The oxen made it most of the way but took a pit stop at the house of Abinadab. Abinadab, for his part, was in no rush to do anything with this volatile piece of furniture, so it sat in his back room for 20 years. Until David. David, unlike Saul before him, was jealous for the presence of God, so he did what any type-A leader would have done: he made a plan and followed it through.

The journey begins well enough: David and his retinue have brought out just about every instrument they had on hand, and they are busy having a raucous worship service on the road when suddenly tragedy strikes. The oxen pulling the ark trip, and as Uzzah reaches out to make sure the ark doesn’t fall in the mud, he suddenly drops to the ground, dead. It doesn’t matter what worship tradition you come from, when someone drops down dead, the worship service is over.

Uzzah’s death represents a thread of the biblical narrative that contemporary Westerners find particularly odious. Here we see a picture of an angry God, one who lashes out and kills for what seems to be a trifle. Uzzah wanted to keep God’s ark from hitting the dirt; what is so sinful about that? And even if it were wrong, did God have to levy such a harsh punishment?

What makes this story unique, relative to other biblical texts, is the window we are given into David’s response. He responds just like we do. David looks at God and says, “God, this guy was trying to do You a favor! What gives?” There is no shred of demure acceptance here. David responds with raw, unbridled anger. God has offended him, and he lets God know it.

We in the twenty-first century tend to assume we are the first to encounter truths about God in Scripture and be offended by them. We assume—whether we articulate it in this way or not—that we have only recently achieved a measure of enlightenment sufficient to critique God for His judgmental ways. Previous generations might have simply accepted these truths, but we are savvy enough to see them for what they are.

David’s anger, however, blows that assumption out of the water. David was offended at the way God acted. Nor is he the only one. God is, as has often been said, an equal opportunity offender and has been for as long as people have interacted with Him. Scripture does not show us ignorant men and women blindly following God but pilgrims who struggle to follow God when He offends their sensibilities.

The Problem of God’s Presence

To overcome our offense, we must pause and consider this scene with Uzzah further. What precisely was Uzzah’s crime? How does it relate to this mysterious and dangerous gold-plated box known as the ark?

The ark, we mentioned, represents God’s presence. Throughout much of Israel’s history, the ark brought blessing, security, and power. This is precisely why David wants it back, because he, like all of us, wants to know that the all-powerful Creator is part of his life. But this ark seems rather volatile. The presence of God can bring blessing, but as the Philistines have learned, it can also bring massive destruction. This is no lucky rabbit’s foot its owners can wield for their benefit. This is God’s presence, dynamic but dangerous.

God’s presence, however, is not absolutely mysterious. That was the pattern of the ancient Greek gods, who were so capricious that no one could ever tell what they would do. God’s ways may seem arbitrary to us, but they never are. God did not lash out at Uzzah as a whim but because Uzzah was guilty.

What was Uzzah’s crime? God had given specific instructions about how to transport the ark (Exod 25:10-22). The priests were to use poles that slipped through four rings on the ark so that their hands would never touch the ark itself. But here they were carrying it around just like the Philistines did—on an oxcart. This story alone should tell us how God feels about the attitude that says, “I worship God in my own way. It doesn’t matter how one worships God or what you do, as long as it’s sincere.” God does not take kindly to worship that disregards His standards.

Uzzah, however, was not the only one involved in this faulty worship service. What set him apart was the touch. And why did this matter? Uzzah’s touch represents a failure to understand his own sinfulness. Uzzah saw the ark headed toward the dirt, and he reached out because he assumed his hand was less dirty than the ground. Most of us would have done the same. But think of this: the earth has never committed the blasphemy of rejecting God’s authority. The earth has always obeyed the commands of God. Dirt could never pollute the ark. But the touch of a sinful man could.

Uzzah did not understand this so he tried to do God a favor. David did not understand this so he got upset with God. Chances are, we do not understand this so we join David in his frustration. But the reason we do not understand the judgment of God is that we do not understand the wickedness of our sinfulness.

Scripture offers this truth without apology: that the punishment God gives to sinners is not more severe than the crime. Most of us think that hell, for instance, is too severe a punishment for sin. How can even a full lifetime of sins—say, 70 years—merit an eternity apart from God? We tend to think that God’s justice is an overreaction.

Or think of the cross. Our sin was apparently so heinous that Jesus, the Son of God, had to come to earth and be torn to shreds. Crucifixion was an unspeakably brutal process, meant to inflict maximum pain and to showcase a person’s shame to anyone watching. The crucified person, with holes in his hands and feet, would have to pull up to even breathe in, forcing pressure on these wounds. The utter torment was nearly unbearable even to watch. The Roman author Cicero, for instance, says that when the Romans crucified women (yes, they did), they would crucify them backwards so people were not forced to watch their agony.

This was the punishment God Himself took for our sins. It was brutal. It was unbearable. It was disgusting. And that is precisely the point. The reaction we have to an event as horrific as crucifixion is the reaction we ought to have toward sin. The cross should remind us that our sin is unspeakably wicked. At its core sin is not merely transgressing a boundary. It is a delight in the wrong, accompanied by a hatred of God. And God simply cannot allow an attitude of treason against Him into His presence.

The usual rejoinder to a line of reasoning like this is to point out that God is “a God of love.” But on some level we understand that love itself requires boundaries. If, for instance, an unrepentant, active sexual predator came to our church and offered to volunteer with the children’s ministry, would it be loving to allow him? “Brother, we are so glad you are here! Feel free to roam about. We accept you as you are.” If that is love, it is a narrow and warped view. For the sake of our children, love demands that we also act with wisdom.

What if this sexual predator repented? We would probably still maintain boundaries with our children, but we would have a more welcoming stance. The problem with those in hell, however, is that they refuse to repent. They are not down in hell, begging God for mercy. No, they rush headlong away from God because they resent and resist His authority in their lives. They may hate the pain of hell, but they hate the rule of God even more.

It bears repeating: the punishment is not too severe for the crime. God is so holy that He cannot tolerate impurity. Just as we would rightly resist a blood infusion with “just a little” of the HIV virus in it, God resists sinners who think they are smitten with “just a little” sin. The difference between Uzzah and us is that God gives us time to repent of our callous attitude. If He were to strike us down for picking up His Word with the same nonchalance as Uzzah, who among us would still be alive? Do we realize the magnanimity of His grace toward us, that we can come into God’s presence, day after day, year after year, and not be struck down?

The Gospel According to the Ark

The ark of the Lord remained in his house three months, and the Lord blessed Obed-edom and his whole family.

It was reported to King David: “The Lord has blessed Obed-edom’s family and all that belongs to him because of the ark of God.” So David went and had the ark of God brought up from Obed-edom’s house to the city of David with rejoicing. When those carrying the ark of the Lord advanced six steps, he sacrificed an ox and a fattened calf. (2 Sam 6:11-13)

God would be within His rights as a just God to allow our story to end in verse 10, with Uzzah’s funeral. Yet the love of God breaks through once more, not as a result of any Israelite obedience but by the sheer mercy of God. Obed-edom, the newest landlord for the ark, has seen a change of fortune. Unlike several of the previous takers—for whom the ark only meant tumors, mice, and death—his household has seen the blessing of God.

We risk missing the sweetness of God if we rush too quickly past this point. David’s last interaction with God led him to a crisis of faith, one that caused David to be angry and afraid. David had seen God in action and had pushed Him away. We might expect God to confront David for his disobedience. What we see instead is a slow process in which God woos David back to Himself. David has said to God, “Please leave me alone.” And God has gently responded, “I love you too much to do that.”

David hears the news of Obed-edom as a sort of promise for himself. God’s intention is not to be wrathful forever. So David ends the radio silence between him and God, determined to bring God’s presence back to his city with him.

These three months have been instructive for David, too. He must have done some reading because now, instead of using an oxcart to pull the ark, David has ensured that people are “carrying” it (v. 13). The poles are back in place, and David is attempting to worship God the way God has revealed.

The poles, however, are just the start. The caravan has not even taken a dozen steps before David calls a halt and offers up the chief picture of worship in all Scripture—sacrifice. The Israelite people were familiar with animal sacrifice, harkening back to the great sign of Passover. In the Passover, God had provided a way of salvation for His people: through the death of a spotless lamb, God’s wrath would “pass over” the households of Israel. And Israel’s worship centered on rehearsing this scene, reminding them that God’s presence with His people could only come at the cost of substitutionary death.

The pinnacle of the Israelite calendar was the Day of Atonement, in which a priest took the blood of a sacrificed lamb and sprinkled it on the ark. This was both a reminder of what God had done and a promise that He would one day send an ultimate sacrifice to pay sin’s penalty of death. We now see what Israel only looked forward to—that sin’s penalty of death would be paid by Jesus, the spotless Lamb of God who alone could take away the sin of the world.

Like Uzzah, Jesus would die the death of a sinner, struck down by the wrath of God. But His death would not be the punishment due Him for His own sins; instead His death would be the result of our sins. Just as the Passover lamb shed its blood in place of the Israelite people so they could live in God’s presence, so Jesus, the true Passover Lamb, shed His blood in our place so the presence of God would not be fatal but sweet to us.

Sin requires death. There is no getting around this. And there are only two options: either we reject God and pay the steep price ourselves, or we accept the sacrifice Jesus dearly made on our behalf. His grace is a gift, but it is a gift that must be received. David knew this, and he responded the only way people ever respond in light of God’s gracious love—with overwhelming praise.

David’s Response to the Gospel

Even though chapter 6 is full of worship—and lessons for us about worship—few contemporary readers find these scenes in verses 14-23 normal. David’s first worship service ended with a man being struck dead; his second worship service, although more conventional, involved the slaughter of an animal four times David’s size; and this last worship service finds David stripping down half naked and dancing like a madman (v. 14). Say what you will, but worship with David around was anything but mundane.

David’s dancing, however, irks his wife Michal (v. 20). Unrestrained dancing in your underpants might communicate passion, but it did not—in her mind—communicate dignity. It was conduct unbecoming of a king.

Michal, we recall, is Saul’s daughter, and it seems that the apple has not fallen far from the tree. King Saul was undone because he insisted on preening and peacocking so that others would think highly of him. As a result, he lost the Spirit of God. Now Michal, following her father step for step, prioritizes public image above all else. We ought to seriously ponder whether we find Michal’s reaction in our own heart. We know, of course, that we should defend David. But how often do we consider our image above our devotion to God?

We might have been intimidated by Michal’s attack, but David certainly was not (vv. 21-22). He fired back, “Look, God is finished with Saul and his house. He’s chosen me, but not because of my might. He chose me to put His glory on display, and that is just what I plan to do.” David understood what Saul consistently missed—that God wanted to make a big deal of Himself, not of the king. So if exalting God meant that David needed to be humiliated, David was on board. What is true for David is true for us as well: Only one person can be large in my life. It is either me or God.

David’s worship made clear who was the most valuable person in his life. So what does our worship tell others about the value of God to us?

It is unfortunate how often the word worship gets reduced to singing. Worship includes singing, of course, but biblical worship encompasses so much more. Worship is, in essence, our response to the gospel. It is less about what we sing and more about how we live. The word itself hints at this, since the original meaning had more to do with worth than with songs. People offer “worth-ship” to something because it demands it, because it has inherent worth.

Seen this way, it becomes clear that our entire lives speak volumes to the world about who has the most worth in our eyes. Worship becomes clear in how we spend our free time, where we spend our money, and what we teach our children. Worship comes out in moments of frustration or anger or in the activities we seek for solace. Worship is seen in our lives when we come face-to-face with sin, injustice, and suffering. Will our responses say, like Saul, that we care more for our image than for God’s priorities? Or will we worship God like David, putting ourselves in humiliating positions so long as we make much of Him?

Understanding worship as whole life, however, does not exempt us from applying that attitude to our singing. When we come together as a body of believers and sing praise to God, we are putting on display God’s greatness and glory in our lives. Our worship should put our hunger for God on display. Our physical response should demonstrate admiration, awe, gratitude, and wonder.

Most of us have a lot to learn from our more expressive brothers and sisters in this regard. Granted, we may acknowledge (in some measure rightly) that our personality plays a role in our singing. Yes, be yourself. But think of this: If someone handed you an envelope with one million dollars in it, would your response really be to smile and flatly say, “Thank you. I appreciate it”? Chances are you would show some emotion, regardless of your personality. Could it be that the problem is not personality but the value we are putting on the priceless gift of salvation? Those who are forgiven much love much, and throughout Scripture that love frequently overflows in embarrassing ways. Many of us simply need to admit that our dignity is more important to us than responding to the gospel. And we need to repent.

On the other hand, however, singing in worship need not always be raucous and exciting. There is indeed a time when, like David, the only appropriate response is to shout and dance like a crazy person. But the Bible presents a range of emotions that are appropriate in worship. Sometimes we need to stand in the presence of God in stunned silence. Sometimes we need to sit in awe. Sometimes we need to bow our heads and weep over sin. And sometimes we need to be flat on our face. What we never need is to pretend that what we do with our tongues and our bodies is irrelevant. Worship starts as an attitude of the heart, but it never stays there.

All the teaching in the world, however, will make little difference if our attitude toward worship remains steeped in works. Most of us have had the experience of hearing from the worship leader, midservice, as he castigates the congregation for not being enthusiastic enough. That may work for a little while, but the natural end of it is burnout. David was not dancing because someone told him to; he was dancing because he understood the gospel.

The gospel, and the gospel alone, holds the power to make our worship fruitful. Notice that little detail in verse 19, about “a raisin cake.” Raisin cakes were the aphrodisiac of the ancient world. David ended his worship service by handing out some raisin cakes and saying, “Go home and be fruitful!” There is an illustration here for us. Natural fruitfulness—the kind that results in babies—does not occur through to-do lists. It is the natural end of a process of intimacy. Spiritual fruitfulness works the same way. We cannot drum up emotions of gratitude and awe on our own. They are the fruit, and they only come as we are caught up in the spiritual intimacy of knowing God and knowing what He has done for us.

True worshipers—both in singing and in life—are those who know the character of God, who know His love for them, who feel deeply that they were once lost and are now saved, were once blind but now see.

The opposite side of this coin, though, is tragically true as well. Those who fail to accept the grace of God bear no fruit. Michal, as verse 23 shows us, ended her days childless. Her mocking led to barrenness. This is a serious punishment for what we might consider a relatively minor mistake. In just a few chapters, we will see David travel the road of adultery, cover-up, and murder. Yet David remains fruitful, while Michal does not. Was Michal’s sin worse? Not necessarily. But her dignity was dangerous because it prevented her from throwing herself on God’s mercy. Ultimately, it is not our bad deeds that keep us from God. They can be forgiven. It is our good deeds—that which we take pride in—that keep us from God because they prevent us from knowing how desperately we need a Savior.

Reflect and Discuss

  1. How does this passage help you understand God?
  2. How does this passage of Scripture exalt Jesus?
  3. How have we confused authentic worship with music styles, liturgical styles, and preferences? How have you done that in your own experience?
  4. In what ways does this text about God’s punishment of those who touched the ark create frustration, confusion, or even anger among those who read this text? Why do you think that is the case?
  5. In what ways does this text reveal the power of a wild and holy God?
  6. How do you respond to the fact that God will not tolerate impurity? Write down your thoughts.
  7. What impurity and sin in your life do you bear right now? What does it do to your heart to know that on the cross Jesus bore the impurity associated with sin and made us holy and pure by His shed blood?
  8. In what ways does your attitude toward worship need to change?
  9. How does the gospel once again change us in worship?
  10. How does the gospel engender in us love to God and those around us? Write down your thoughts and be specific.
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