We don’t know how long we have
We don’t know what we hold
He knows all, trumpet call
His earth, His hot, His cold
It seems that we, His children
We’ve inherited so much
Treat, my dear, a call so clear
Protect, steward, touch
One day we’ll find what’s left behind
What’s newly Created, Built
Until then, its sowing sin
On Jesus laid our guilt
It seems that we, His children
We’ve inherited so much
Treat, my dear, a call so clear
Protect, steward, touch
It seems that we, His children
We’ve inherited so much
Treat, my dear, a call so clear
Protect, steward, touch.
Leviticus 25:8-12
The Year of Jubilee
“‘Count off seven sabbath years—seven times seven years—so that the seven sabbath years amount to a period of forty-nine years. Then have the trumpet sounded everywhere on the tenth day of the seventh month; on the Day of Atonement sound the trumpet throughout your land. Consecrate the fiftieth year and proclaim liberty throughout the land to all its inhabitants. It shall be a jubilee for you; each of you is to return to your family property and to your own clan. The fiftieth year shall be a jubilee for you; do not sow and do not reap what grows of itself or harvest the untended vines. For it is a jubilee and is to be holy for you; eat only what is taken directly from the fields.