Wednesday, November 26, 2025

Turn, Turn, O Perfect One! Turn, Turn

“Turn, turn, O Perfect One! Turn, turn, that I may stare at you! Why do you gaze upon the Perfect One like the dance of the Mahanaim?” Song of Solomon 6:13 NET

Today, we will immerse ourselves in the depths of Chapter 6, Verse 13 of the Song of Solomon, the final verse in Chapter 6. While some may view it as a mere precursor to Chapter 7, it possesses its own unique significance, worthy of our contemplation.

In this beautifully enigmatic verse, the Shulamite woman is called to turn or “return,” a gesture that seems to beckon admiration and curiosity. This act is not just a physical movement; it is an invitation to witness a sublime, captivating beauty, as if she embodies the essence of all that is exquisite in the world.

Following this elegant invitation, we are met with a profound question, likely posed by an observer or a collective voice that speaks to the heart of admiration: “Why do you gaze upon the Perfect One?” or, in other translations, “What will you see in the Shulamite?” This question invites an exploration of the nature of beauty and desire, urging us to consider what draws our gaze to the seemingly perfect form before us.

The response is equally evocative: “One like the dance of the Mahanaim,” or in some renditions, “as upon a dance between two armies.” This vivid imagery brings to mind a scene of dynamic motion and grace, painting the Shulamite’s allure as something akin to an exquisite performance, a ballet of beauty caught in the tension of passion and admiration. The comparison to a dance not only emphasizes her charm but also implies a celebration of love and attraction that transcends the ordinary.

Is this solitary verse ample to satiate our spiritual yearning? I assure you, it is not merely enough; it is a wellspring of richness and inspiration, inviting us to reflect deeply on the intricate dance between love, beauty, and the profound connections we forge with one another.

This verse uses the Hebrew verb “shub,” which means “turn,” and does so with remarkable emphasis, repeating it four times—an unusual occurrence in the Old Testament. Intriguingly, this theme of turning is mirrored in another poignant verse, Jeremiah 15:19, in which the Lord speaks directly to His prophet, who finds himself in a profound moment of spiritual decline. Even a great man like Jeremiah, revered for his prophetic insights, faced undeniable moments of weakness. He had backslidden, drifting away from his steadfast faith amid adversity.

Let us take a few moments to explore the Jeremiah text, where the word “shub” also appears four times, paralleling our focus in the Song of Solomon. For context, in verse 18, Jeremiah’s voice rings with deep sorrow and lament: “Why must I continually suffer such painful anguish?” This rhetorical question encapsulates the weight of his torment, felt over more than fifty years of tumultuous ministry. He elaborates, “Why must I endure the sting of their insults like an incurable wound?” This raw imagery vividly portrays his emotional agony; Jeremiah faced relentless mockery, abuse, and even imprisonment, leading him to a perilous brink of despair where he contemplated surrendering his prophetic calling.

In his anguish, he cries out to God: “Will you let me down when I need you, like a brook one goes to for water but cannot rely on?” This poignant metaphor paints a picture of his perceived abandonment, likening God to a parched creek, dry and unyielding in his time of need—an illustration of profound disillusionment with both the Lord and the people who were supposed to heed his divinely inspired words.

God’s response to Jeremiah’s lament in verse 19 is both direct and corrective: “You must repent of such words and thoughts! If you do, I will restore you to the privilege of serving me. If you speak what is worthwhile instead of what is worthless, I will again allow you to be my spokesman. They must become like you; you must not become like them.” In this passage, “shub” surfaces again, translated as ‘repent,’ ‘restore,’ and twice in the imperative form ‘become.’ This repetition underscores a profound need for transformation—both in Jeremiah’s heart and in his mission among the people he was called to serve.

It is noteworthy that Jeremiah heeded God’s call to repentance, thereby realigning himself with divine purpose, leading to a period of powerful preaching and conviction in the latter years of his life. Despite initially accusing God of failing him, comparing Him to a dormant brook providing no sustenance, Jeremiah ultimately embraced God’s invitation to renewal and restoration.

Thus, in both Jeremiah 15:19 and Song of Solomon 6:13, the recurrence of “shub” reinforces their shared theme of returning to God. Recall the beginning of Song of Solomon chapter 5: the bride has slumbered into a state of indifference, allowing spiritual apathy to seep into her relationship with the Lord. When the Lord approaches, she recoils, preferring the comfort of her bed to the call of the One who loves her the most. This imagery vividly portrays Solomon—symbolizing Jesus—imploring the Shulamite: “Return, return.” In this context, “repent, repent” emerges as a resonant call, urging her to turn back, rekindle her relationship with Him.

This message aligns with the heart of 1 John 1:9, which assures us: “If we confess our sins, He is faithful and righteous to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” The overarching truth remains: if we sincerely confess our sins and humbly return to God, expressing our genuine sorrow and a commitment to forsake our wrongs, He stands ready to hear us, forgive us, and cleanse us once more. Therefore, the directive resonates profoundly: “Turn, turn, O perfect one, turn, turn.”

The translation I have chosen describes the bride in the text as “O perfect one,” a phrase that captures her exquisite beauty and intrinsic value. Other translations refer to her as the “Shulamite,” a term that invites deeper contemplation. I often use “Shulamite” to suggest that she originates from a place called “Shula.” This prompts an intriguing question: what does “Shulamite” signify within the context of this narrative? This mystery enriches our understanding and invites us to explore its implications.

While there is no mention of a city named Shula, archaeological efforts to locate it have, to date, proven fruitless. In fact, no known area even resembling the name Shula has yet been discovered. This absence leads us to speculate that the Shulamite is a country girl, hailing from a quaint, unincorporated town that might easily go unnoticed by a traveler passing by. Her humble origins evoke a sense of warmth and relatability, suggesting that she embodies the simplicity and charm of rural life, free of the sophistication of city living.

Another intriguing interpretation is that “Shulamite” in Hebrew is a derivative form of the name “Solomon.” This notion implies that she has willingly adopted the name associated with her beloved, much like how women traditionally embrace their husband’s surname upon marriage. This concept presents a profound spiritual truth: as Jesus is our Savior and our eternal Bridegroom, we are called to take on His name and identity in the tapestry of our daily existence.

In Acts 11:26b, we learn that “it was in Antioch that the disciples were first called Christians.” Initially, this label may have first been used derisively, as the people of Antioch mockingly referred to believers as “little Jesuses.” However, God transformed this seemingly derogatory term into something rich with significance and grace. Today, if we truly love our Lord and engage in a daily walk with Him, actively nurturing a heartfelt relationship, we will naturally begin to embody His name and reflect His character in our lives. We embrace the title of Christian, even as we recognize and confess our shortcomings and imperfections. Ultimately, our longing is to be regarded as “Christ-like,” as others observe us, it is Christ in us demonstrating the fruit of the Spirit: love, joy, and peace in action through us.

The label “Shulamite” has many meanings. She may not only evoke the characteristics of a devoted follower but also bear the legacy of Solomon himself. Additionally, both “Shulamite” and “Solomon” are intriguingly tied to the Hebrew word for “peace,” which is “shalom.” This connection is particularly poignant, as it suggests that upon encountering her Bridegroom and embracing love, the Shulamite (or peace) may face moments of spiritual complacency or uncertainty. However, through her journey of discovery, she realizes her need for Him, facing trials and tribulations as she longs for Him to be with her (His peace) with a persistent heart, until she ultimately finds Him.

The text offers a glimpse of Solomon/Jesus’ tender, understanding attitude toward the Shulamite woman when she initially resists His call for intimacy in Chapter 5. When she chooses the comfort of her bed over His presence, He withdraws, allowing her space for reflection and growth. Yet when she takes the brave step to seek Him and discovers her inability to find Him, His response is both gentle and compelling: “Turn, turn, O perfect one, turn, turn.” This heartfelt invitation encapsulates God’s constant message to His wandering children: “Return, come home, I love you unconditionally, even in your moments of weakness and spiritual lethargy. My love for you remains unwavering, unconditional, and eternal.”

As expressed in John 13:1b, “Having loved his own who were in the world, he now loved them to the very end.” This phrase, “to the very end,” transcends merely the conclusion of Jesus’ earthly life or the end of the world; it speaks to an eternal bond of love with our Savior and to the ongoing journey toward spiritual maturity. Ephesians 4:13-15 elaborates beautifully on this journey: “Until we all attain to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God—a mature person, attaining to the measure of Christ’s full stature. So we are no longer to be children, tossed back and forth by waves and carried about by every wind of teaching by the trickery of people who craftily carry out their deceitful schemes. But practicing the truth in love, we will in all things grow up into Christ, who is the head.”

Our heavenly Father loves us through every season, even when we feel spiritually sluggish or uncertain. His promise of love endures until we are transformed into the very image of His Son, reaching the fullness of maturity as a believer. As Paul assures us, “For I am sure of this very thing, that the one who began a good work in you will perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 1:6). This promise is the essence of God’s unconditional love and divine purpose in our lives, guiding us steadily on a journey toward completeness, maturity, and fulfillment in Him.

Isn’t that what the prophets of the southern kingdom spoke to the king of Judah regarding the northern tribes of Israel when they urged: “Turn, turn, O perfect one, turn, turn”? Alternatively, this sentiment could also be expressed as “Return.” The southern kingdom, composed of two tribes—Judah and Benjamin—was distinctive in both its geography and governance. The northern kingdom, consisting of the remaining ten tribes, extended northward to Bethel and encompassed a variety of regions, while the southern kingdom ended in the arid landscape of the Negev Desert to the south. Its eastern boundary was marked by the life-giving Jordan River, while the western edge met the Mediterranean Sea’s shores. Jerusalem, strategically located and fortified, served as its capital and a central hub of worship and governance, enduring as the seat of power from approximately 922 to 586 B.C.

The division between these kingdoms arose dramatically when Rehoboam, the son of Solomon, refused to alleviate the burdensome taxes and forced labor that his father had imposed, which were particularly harsh on the people (1 Kings 12:1-24). This heavy-handed approach led to a revolt, as the ten tribes north of Bethel decisively declared independence, seeking relief from Jerusalem’s centralized power.

Alongside this political rupture, Judah faced an unexpected calamity. Shishak, the Pharaoh of Egypt, seized the opportunity to invade Judah, plundering the riches stored in the Temple and the royal palace. His forces not only looted vast treasures but also destroyed critical infrastructure by dismantling several newly constructed fortresses, leaving the southern kingdom vulnerable (2 Chronicles 12:1-12). The impact of this invasion was profound and long-lasting, as Judah struggled to regain its former wealth and stability. The region’s less fertile land compared to the northern kingdom meant that Judah would constantly grapple with economic limitations and a diminished capacity for prosperity.

Rehoboam, intent on unifying the kingdom through military force, was divinely warned against such an action. “But God told Shemaiah the prophet, “Say this to King Rehoboam son of Solomon of Judah, and to all Judah and Benjamin, as well as the rest of the people, ‘This is what the Lord has said: “Do not attack and make war with your brothers, the Israelites. Each of you go home. Indeed, this thing has happened because of me.” So they obeyed the Lord’s message. They went home in keeping with the Lord’s message.” (1 Kings 12:22-24).

Moreover, this theme of turning back and reconciliation resonates in the New Testament, as highlighted in the book of James. It concludes with a poignant reminder: “My brothers and sisters, if anyone among you wanders from the truth and someone turns him back, he should know that the one who turns a sinner back from his wandering path will save that person’s soul from death and will cover a multitude of sins.” (James 5:19-20). This call to return is not just a matter of physical migration but a deeper spiritual journey toward truth and redemption; it is about the repentance of the heart and mind.

“Turn, turn, O perfect one, turn, turn,” the Bridegroom, often identified as Solomon, expresses His longing with these words, “…that I may stare at you.” The English Standard Version (ESV) interprets this as “that we may look upon you.” This brings up the question: who does the “we” refer to in this verse? I believe the “we” represents not just the Bridegroom himself but also the collective of all those who love and admire him. Together, they are drawn to the Shulamite woman, eager to witness the beauty that emanates from her relationship with the Bridegroom.

The term used for “look” or “stare” here is the Hebrew word “chazah,” which conveys a deeper meaning than a mere glance. It signifies the act of prophesying or perceiving through the eyes of faith. This term underscores a spiritual dimension to their longing, suggesting that they wish to see not just her outward appearance, but the essence of her character and the divine love she embodies.

The Bridegroom’s fervent desire to behold His bride is a powerful testament to the depth of His love and admiration. He anticipates not only her beauty but also the richness of her inner life and the flourishing of their connection. This longing is intricately detailed in Chapter 7, where the beauty of the Shulamite woman is further celebrated and explored, highlighting the profound impact of their relationship.

Jesus emerges as a profound type and shadow, intricately foreshadowing the future Church. As beautifully articulated in Ephesians 5:25-27, it states, “Husbands, love your wives just as Christ loved the Church and gave Himself for her to sanctify her, cleansing her with the washing of water by the word, so that He may present the Church to Himself as glorious—not having a stain or wrinkle, or any such blemish, but holy and blameless.”

This passage resonates with the depth of Christ’s sacrificial love, highlighting His unwavering commitment to nurture and purify the Church. He tenderly invites us, saying, “Turn, turn, my Darling. I am a Husband and a Savior of grace, that I may gaze upon you.” Through this intimate invitation, we witness the profound affection and admiration that Jesus has for the Church, which He sees as breathtakingly beautiful and radiant, adorned with virtues and grace.

This heartfelt connection naturally transitions into the next chapter, often regarded as the longest poem in the book, a sentiment that may spark differing opinions. In Chapter 7, Jesus exclaims His admiration anew, lavishly detailing her beauty and virtues. He eagerly invites her, “My Darling, come, I long to gaze upon you. I yearn to craft a poem that captures your very essence, illuminating your unique attributes and the captivating features of your godliness.”

As followers of Christ, we are beckoned to embrace a dynamic and vibrant Christian life. Striving for excellence in our endeavors is not about earning His favor or approval; we already have that. Instead, it is a heartfelt response to His immeasurable love and worthiness. He cherishes our beauty—not merely in our outward appearances but within our character, actions, and unwavering devotion to His love. In embodying these qualities, we reflect His divine glory, honor the sacred relationship we share with Him, and showcase the splendor of His grace. Paul the Apostle said, “Do your best to present yourself to God as one approved, a worker who has no need to be ashamed, rightly handling the word of truth.” (2 Timothy 2:15). The Bridegroom is saying, “I want to stare (gaze) at you, in all of your beauty.”

The text begins with a profound question: “Why do you gaze upon the Perfect One?” This inquiry invites readers to delve deeply into the significance of the Shulamite woman within the enchanting verses of the Song of Solomon. The English Standard Version (ESV) captures this moment as, “Why should you look upon the Shulamite?” Here, the maidens of Jerusalem curiously probe the bride about her relationship with her elusive Bridegroom, asking her when she last encountered him and lamenting his absence from her side. Her response is tinged with longing and vulnerability as she admits, “If you see Him, tell Him that I love Him; I am lovesick for Him. I yearn to be reunited with Him.”

The maidens, intrigued, question her further: “What is so special about Him? What does your beloved possess that no other beloved does?” This pivotal inquiry prompts a self-reflective moment for the bride, leading her to ponder her own worth and significance as she asks, “Why do you gaze upon the Perfect One? What do you see? What is so remarkable about her?” This introspective dialogue serves as a catalyst, guiding us into Chapter 7, rich with poetic imagery that glorifies the bride’s beauty and the profound delight it brings to her Bridegroom.

In this section, the passage conveys that her beauty evokes immense joy and pleasure in the Beloved—a vivid reflection of one of Jesus’ virtues: the remarkable capacity to recognize and nurture the potential within individuals through the transformative power of the Holy Spirit. A poignant example of this is evidenced in the relationship between Jesus and Peter. Despite Peter’s flaws and moments of doubt, Jesus envisioned him as a foundational leader for His Church.

Consider the intimate interaction in John 21:15-17, which unfolds after Jesus’s resurrection: “When they had finished eating, Jesus said to Simon Peter, ‘Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?’ ‘Yes, Lord,’ he replied, ‘you know that I love you.’ Jesus then instructed him, ‘Feed my lambs.’ A second time, Jesus asked, ‘Simon, son of John, do you love me?’ Peter affirmed, ‘Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.’ Jesus responded, ‘Take care of my sheep.’ Finally, He posed the question a third time: ‘Simon, son of John, do you love me?’ Peter, pained by this repetitive questioning, declared, ‘Lord, you know all things; you know that I love you.’ Jesus replied lovingly, ‘Feed my sheep.’”

This exchange raises a compelling question: “What will you see in the Shulamite? Why do you gaze upon the Perfect One?” It beckons us to explore how the Lord perceives us. Often, we’re prone to underestimate our inherent worth, viewing ourselves through a lens of imperfection and unworthiness. In Chapter 1, verse 7, the Shulamite articulates her self-perception: “I am so black, yet lovely and pleasant. O you daughters of Jerusalem, I am as dark as the tents of Kedar, like the beautiful curtains of Solomon!” Here, she candidly acknowledges her sunburnt skin, equates it with unattractiveness, yet simultaneously affirms her inner beauty and worth.

The inquiry surrounding her beauty receives its first answer in verse 13, likely spoken by the Bridegroom: “...Like the dance of the Mahanaim.” The term “Mahanaim” is steeped in Old Testament significance, representing ‘God’s camp’ or a sacred ‘resting place.’ Notably, Mahanaim once served as a brief capital of Israel during the reign of Ish-bosheth, the son of Saul (2 Samuel 2:8). Thus, the Bridegroom articulates, “I’ll tell you what I see in her; when she turns, her fellowship is sweet. When I am in the garden communing with her, I experience an intimacy that fills my heart with joy. I see in her a harmonious company of two armies.”

This vivid description evokes images of a vibrant congregation, paralleling the Church’s description. The Greek term for Church, “Ecclesia,” signifies a gathering of ‘called out ones.’ We are summoned from the world and our flawed pasts by the Holy Spirit, saved by the rich grace of God, and united as a body of believers who cherish the name of Jesus as our own—a formidable company composed of two armies. The word ‘armies’ evokes imagery of a substantial multitude, suggesting the expansive reach of believers.

Why are there two distinct armies mentioned? This intriguing concept can be traced back to the profound narrative found in Genesis, where it is revealed that God created humanity in His own image, reflecting His essence and nature. The purpose behind God’s creation of humankind was intentional and imbued with significance—He envisioned humanity as an extension of Himself, establishing a familial bond that would enable humans to serve as His human/divine council on earth.

In the celestial realm, God initially established a council of divine beings who faithfully attended to Him and fulfilled their sacred duties with reverence. However, the Scriptures bear witness to a dramatic rebellion, as two-thirds of these celestial beings turned away from their appointed roles, forsaking their place in the heavenly hierarchy. This act of rebellion resulted in their descent to earth, marking a profound disruption in the divine order and creating a chasm between the divine and the earthly realms.

In this richly layered context, I propose that the two armies referenced in the poetic verses of the Song of Solomon symbolize devoted human believers stepping into the roles abandoned by the rebellious celestial beings in God’s divine council. These faithful followers of God, filled with purpose and determination, unite with the remaining one-third of celestial beings still loyal to their Creator. Together, they form a reconstituted divine council that unites the natural and spiritual realms, embodying the fullness of God’s overarching design for harmony and order in heaven and on earth.

This interpretation highlights the critical role that believers play in God’s divine plan, underscoring their essential involvement in His ongoing work. Their engagement signifies a restoration of divine order and purpose, thus bridging the gap between the spiritual and physical realms and fulfilling God’s ultimate intention for a world woven together in love, service, and communion with the divine. Jesus taught us to pray this way in understanding the ‘Lord’s Prayer.’ “So pray this way: Our Father in heaven, may your name be honored, may your kingdom come, may your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” (Matthew 6:9-10)

 While Christians may frequently feel like a minority in society, we can take heart in the comforting truth that, in the divine presence of God, we belong to an immeasurable collective of faith, as it says in Hebrews 12:1: “Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, we must get rid of every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and run with endurance the race set out for us.” This beautifully illustrates the Bridegroom’s vision for His bride; we are adorned with a glorious banner proclaiming His love over us. I believe this signifies local groups of believers and various assemblies spread across the globe, all coming together when He returns—a magnificent company of two armies. The term “armies” not only infers unity but also reflects the reality of spiritual warfare.

In Chapter 6, verse 4, we encounter a poetic portrayal of her beauty: “My darling, you are as beautiful as Tirzah, as lovely as Jerusalem, as awe-inspiring as bannered armies.” When Christ Jesus gazes upon His Church, He perceives a valiant army; He sees us as a resolute group of soldiers donned in the whole armor of God. We are envisioned as the Church militant, where even the gates of Hell shall not triumph against us. Furthermore, He sees us as the Church triumphant; through our Savior, death, Hell, and the grave have been vanquished as enemies, and we shall reign eternally alongside Him as the victorious Church triumphant.

What does the phrase “like the dance of the Mahanaim” truly convey? In the King James Version (KJV), this section is translated as “As it were the company of two armies.” Remarkably, the word “company” is rendered as “dance” or “dancing” in seven different instances throughout the Old Testament, making this the singular occasion where it appears as “company.” This invites a thoughtful question: What kind of army is described as a dancing army? It evokes an image of a joyful, triumphant, and praising force, brimming with enthusiasm and joyful abandon.

Consider the awe-inspiring moment when the children of Israel dramatically crossed the Red Sea, having just witnessed the divine power that led to Pharaoh’s army being drowned in the depths. Their liberation sparked an explosion of uncontainable joy and gratitude. Miriam, Moses’s sister, was a fearless prophetess who led the people with joyous tambourines, filling the air with vibrant songs of victory. They danced with unrestrained exuberance, their movements celebrating the monumental triumph over oppression and slavery. This vivid scene reveals a lively, rejoicing battalion of warriors, all glorifying an all-powerful God. Through this lens, we understand that biblical dancing is inextricably linked to themes of celebration and triumph, underscoring its continued significance and acceptance in today’s worship practices.

An equally poignant example of a jubilatory, dancing community unfolds with the return of the Ark of the Covenant to Jerusalem. Scripture tells us, “King David was told, ‘The Lord has blessed the family of Obed-Edom and everything he owns because of the ark of God.’ So David went and joyfully brought the ark of God from the house of Obed-Edom to the City of David. Those who carried the ark of the Lord took six steps, and then David sacrificed an ox and a fatling calf. Now David, wearing a linen ephod, was dancing with all his strength before the Lord. David and all Israel were bringing up the ark of the Lord, shouting and blowing trumpets.” (2 Samuel 6:12-15). This vivid portrayal stands in stark contrast to notions of a lifeless or overly formal Church. Instead, it reveals a dynamic and spirited community that thrives on worshiping an omnipotent and all-knowing God. Modern congregations need to embrace this rich legacy of joyful expression, recognizing that such celebration lies at the heart of worship and is a vital aspect of their faith journey.

What is profoundly striking about this succinct verse is its vivid portrayal of a God who personifies the essence of second chances. He is ever-present, extending His loving call, urging us to turn (or return) to Him, even when we find ourselves steeped in feelings of failure or disappointment. His grace is an open invitation, compelling us to return to the embrace of His love over and over again. “Turn, turn, O Perfect One! Turn, turn, that I may gaze upon you!” This heartfelt plea underscores that His gaze is not one of judgment concerning our sins or flaws; instead, it is filled with deep admiration for the beauty that resides within us.

He is passionately in love with us for the treasures He has placed in our hearts—each of us represents a sacred dwelling place, a thriving garden that nurtures seeds of potential, blossoming and unfolding with each passing day. This garden, rich with life and hope, is a sanctuary where He yearns to visit, to rejoice in the abundant fruits of our spiritual growth and maturity.

“Why do you look upon the Perfect One like the dance of the Mahanaim?” she questions, her voice tinged with vulnerability as she expresses, “I’m not much to look at.” The maidens of Jerusalem, intrigued and puzzled, echo her sentiment, asking, “What do you see in her?” The Bridegroom, embodying divine love and acceptance, answers with confidence, “I see armies; I see a victorious Church; I see a glorious, triumphant people, clothed in the full armor of God, boldly marching forward in glorious victory.”

This singular verse artfully sets the stage for the unfolding narrative in Chapter Seven, where the Bridegroom continues to celebrate His bride’s beauty and worth, revealing the depth of His regard for her. It is crucial to grasp that this message transcends the singular figure of the Shulamite bride; it serves as a rich metaphor for the collective identity of the Church, illustrating how God perceives His people with profound honor, dignity, and limitless potential for greatness.

Stephen Barnett

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