Who do you serve? You gotta serve somebody

It's funny, I don't think I appreciate R & B or Gospel very much. In reality, I like both more than I can say. While I pondered what I might put up as our traditio this afternoon I listened to Marc Maron's WTF podcast. In the episode I heard he interviewed Mavis Staples. Mavis started singing Gospel with her family, the famous Staples Family, when she was very young, like 11 or 12.

Mavis met Bob Dylan when they were both very young. Mavis & Bob were an item in the mid-60s for a while. He is two years younger than her. They've remained close ever since. Man, I love Mavis's voice and I love her cover of this classic from Dylan's Gospel era.

Presentation of Jesus at the Temple by Rembrandt

If you ever want to listen to some amazing Gospel, you can do no better than the Staples Family. If you don't believe me listen to them sing "Uncloudy Day." Mavis is still going strong at 80. God bless her.

Our tradito for this first First Friday in Ordinary Time is Mavis Staples singing a Dylan song written during Bobby Z.'s Gospel period: "Gotta Serve Somebody." This is probably his most well-known song from that time of his long career. I love that Dylan always insists that he is "a song and dance man." I don't think he ever wanted to be anything else.

One of the beautiful things about Gospel music is that at its best it beautifully distills the good news. Since we entered Ordinary Time on Monday, I went back to my normal order of praying the Mystery of the Blessed Virgin's Rosary. This means that on Monday I contemplated the Joyful Mysteries. I was struck as I meditated on the third Joyful Mystery, which is Mary and Joseph presenting baby Jesus in the Temple (see Luke 2:22-28). While in the Temple the couple encounter Anna and Simeon. Both of these elderly Israelites recognized in this child their hope, the hope of Israel, and the hope of the whole world. In doing so, they gain insight into how painful the realization of their hope was going to be. In short, they grasped that hope lies beyond optimism.

The message of Dylan's song could not be clearer or truer: you inevitably wind up serving somebody. If you choose not to decide, you still have made a choice.

You serve the Lord by serving your neighbor. You serve the devil by putting yourself first. It's almost always easier to serve yourself, even when you consider that you don't know what you want most of the time. In short, serving yourself is convenient; you're always right there. Putting yourself first gives rise to optimism. The optimism to which it gives rise is the optimism that finds its roots in believing that happiness is earned and you can achieve it. By contrast, serving others is almost always inconvenient. Very often, one's service to others doesn't seem to accomplish much of anything. If nothing else, it relieves of yourself for a little while. Therein lies hope.

Bridge building spans the chasm

I understand the alarm many people feel in hearing/reading about a recent document from the Congregation for Catholic Education. The document, entitled Male and Female He created them: Towards a path of dialogue on the question of gender theory in education, was sent to the president's of all national bishops' coneferences (see "Vatican issues new document criticizing 'gender theory'"). But if we want to build bridges and not expand chasms. it is important for people with differing viewpoints to speak and/or write from knowledge, not ignorance. Sadly, when it comes to informing us about this document, neither the secular nor the Catholic media have done us any favors.

In the context of various documents produced by various Congregations, Councils, and Commissions, "Vatican" is an ambiguous word. It usually refers to the church's magisterium. Magisterium, in turn, refers to official and authoritative church teaching. It is important to note that not every document that comes from the Vatican is magisterial. Beyond that it is important to point out that even every magisterial teaching is not of the same weight or importance. The document that created such a buzz today, which calls into question some aspects of "gender theory" (another ambiguous term), specifically questioning transgenderism, is one that is not magisterial.

My claim that Male and Female He created them is not magisterial is buttressed by no less than Dr. Richard Galliardetz, professor of theology at Boston College. I have benefited enormously from Dr. Galliardetz's work throughout my graduate theological education. I relied on his work quite heavily in a particular chapter of my recently completed dissertation. On Facebook thread today, in his calm, measured, and generous way, he responded to a post that seemed to exaggerate the importance of this document:

it might be worth noting that this particular document was issued “in forma commune” and not “in forma specifica.” In the latter instance, the curial document must be received as authoritative papal teaching. In the former instance, which applies to this document, it does not carry papal authority and therefore is not to be considered magisterial teaching

Does this insight remove all suspicion? I seriously doubt it. But I think it provides some much-needed perspective for people on both sides- those who will say, "See! The Magisterium rejects transgenderism!" as well as those who see an article and say, "There they go again!" Precisely, Because it is not magisterial, nobody need feel compelled to agree with it.

In terms of church teaching, the issue of transgenderism is not completely closed. I think it bears noting that in recent years there has been no little tension between various lesbian and gay groups and individuals, as well as certain feminists, and transgender people and those who advocates. It's a complex , multi-faceted issue. Because it involves people, we need to lead care and concern for people who, through medical science, have transitioned. Loving and caring for people comes first always. I'd venture to say that few things are more complex than human sexuality. Let's take up the challenge issued by the document's subtitle and walk a path of dialogue.

Along with Francis A, Sullivan, S.J.'s Magisterium: Teaching Authority in the Catholic Church, Galliardetz's By What Authority?: Primer on Scripture, the Magisterium, and the Sense of the Faithful is indispensable for anyone who cares to know how church teaching works, its various levels, the authority any given document, teaching, or assertion carries, etc. If you care enough to know, it's that not that difficult to find it.

In other direction, I found "The Church & Transgender Identity Some Cautions, Some Possibilities," by Luke Timothy Johnson and David Cloutier quite informative. I know I need to learn more.

In short, what the document expresses is nothing new. It sets forth a long-held view rooted in a theological anthropology derived from a certain fairly narrow conception of natural law. From a philosophical perspective, I find this view to be based on an outdated metaphysics of substance rooted in a certain articulation of Aristotle. Jumping from philosophy to theology, it has been pretty rare for the Church to apply kingdom ethics to sexual morality. It is his doing just this that makes Robert Song's little book A Covenant Calling (mentioned and linked to a previous post) such valuable reading.

Pentecost

And suddenly there came from the sky
a noise like a strong driving wind,
and it filled the entire house in which they were.
Then there appeared to them tongues as of fire,
which parted and came to rest on each one of them.
And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit
and began to speak in different tongues,
as the Spirit enabled them to proclaim (Acts 2:1-4)

Come Holy Spirit and renew the face of the Church.

I wanted to keep it simple today. After Easter, Pentecost is the most important day on the liturgical calendar. The Holy Spirit is the mode of Christ's resurrected presence among us, in us, and through us.

Jesus ascended in order to draw closer, not to disappear

Readings: Acts 1:1-11; Ps 47:2-3.6-9; Heb 9:24-28.10:19-23; Luke 24:46-53

It constantly amazes me how individualistic many Catholics, including clergy, maybe especially clergy, have become. The Ascension is a perfect example of this. What do I mean? I mean that, like tent revivalists, Catholic preachers sometimes get hung up on "going to heaven." They insist heaven is up there somewhere in the sky. Hence, reaching heaven becomes a matter of personal effort, which mostly consists of rejecting "the world" and living what I can only describe as a kind of spiritualized life.

By "the world" they mean something different than what is meant when that term is employed in the New Testament, especially in the Johannine corpus. Instead, they mean everything on earth, they mean life and what is required to live it, everything pertaining to God's good creation, which tells of God's work through Christ by the power of their Spirit bringing to its beautiful completion, a work in which God, in his goodness and through grace, invites us to participate.

In one of his early works, The Wound of Knowledge, Rowan Williams explored the bizarre dichotomy some Christians make between what he terms "compromising activities" and "pure realities." Such people insist that engaging in every day activities, rather than being the very stuff of salvation, compromises us somehow before God. In reality, it is the other way around; focusing on "heaven" disconnects us from the world and those things through which our salvation is brought about. All one needs to do to see that this is antithetical to Christianity properly understood and lived is to read one of the four Gospels. It is in the Gospels that we read about Jesus engaging fully in the everyday life of the world.

Because the Incarnation of the Son of God is its point of origin, Christianity in its essence is incarnational, something that happens not only in the world but through the world, in space and time. This is what distinguishes Christianity from Gnosticism and the Eastern religions. Our salvation is worked out precisely in and through our day-to-day activities, not somehow over and above them.

Each year on Ascension I am struck by what one of the men dressed in white says to the astonished apostles as they stand there looking up at Jesus as he disappears into the cloud: "Men of Galilee, why are you standing there looking at the sky? This Jesus who has been taken up from you into heaven will return in the same way as you have seen him going into heaven" (Acts 1:11). Notice the word "men." It is a translation of the Greek word Ἄνδρες, which transliterates as andres. Andres is plural for people of the male gender. My point? The women who followed Jesus from Galilee to Jerusalem, who did not abandon him during his passion and death, and who were the first ones to experience his resurrection, were probably already getting on with Christ's mission.

In Luke's account of this as written in the Acts of the Apostles two key things happen prior to Jesus's Ascension: he promises to send the Holy Spirit (Acts 1:4-5) and the apostles inquire about the final establishment of God's kingdom (Acts 1:6-9). As to the latter, Jesus tells them God's reign will be fully established at some indeterminate point in the future. He doesn't bother correcting their mistaken notion about what the establishment of God's kingdom will consist of. It is something they will come realize over time as they carry out the mission entrusted to them. As to the first, it is the Holy Spirit who will empower them to bear witness to Jesus and begin making God's kingdom present throughout the world. It is by means of the Holy Spirit that Jesus remains present in us, among us, and through us until he returns. The Holy Spirit is nothing other than Jesus's resurrected presence.

The Ascension, by Hans von Kulmbach, ca. 1508

Jesus sends the Holy Spirit so that those who are called and sent (an apostle is one who is sent) can carry out the mission of establishing God's reign in advance of his return, when God's kingdom will be fully established on the earth, not in some inchoate heaven somewhere up in the sky. Here's the crux of this: the heaven-centered life is easily disconnected from real life, it is "spiritual" in that weirdly persistent Gnostic sense to which human beings are so prone. Gnosticism is a spiritual virus. Gnosticism, which preceded Christianity by centuries, is a religious parasite. It is Gnosticism that causes people to divorce nature from grace, spirit from body, heaven from earth. Holiness is wholistic, not dualistic. In terms of Jesus's Ascension, he ascended in order to be more present to us by means of the Holy Spirit, not absent or somehow less present.

If you were to encounter Jesus in person, as did many people during his mortal life, it would be no different than encountering any other person. Most people who encountered Jesus were not immediately, or even eventually, convinced he was the Son of God in the flesh, the Savior of the world. In such person-to-person encounters we remain "outside" each other. What makes sexual intercourse so sacred is that by engaging in it two people enter each other. We sometimes call this "knowing" in the "Biblical sense."

At end of his amazingly beautiful reflection on the love members of Christ's body are to have for one another, St. Paul states what it is each of us most desires: to know "as I am fully known" (1 Cor 13:12). The relationship the risen Lord desires to have with each of us and all us together in order to make us his body, the kingdom of God already present in the world, is even deeper and more intimate than that of a lover. This is the work of the Holy Spirit.

How the Holy Spirit comes to be in us most powerfully, most efficaciously, is through the sacraments, particularly the Eucharist, the sacrament of sacraments, the sacramentum caritatis (i.e., the sacrament of love). It is by sharing Christ's body and blood together that we become Christ's body. The effect this is to have is to link us together in a profound way, in the way of divine love. It is the relationship the Spirit establishes between us and among us, a love that is so effusive it spills into the world beyond our parish, or eucharistic community, that constitutes our witness to the world. "This is how all will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another" (John 13:35).

The words addressed to the apostles by the man dressed in white had the effect of leveling their gaze. It is not the essence of Christianity to stand around looking up at the sky. Culturally we're exposed to a lot of well-meaning things that constitute an anti-Gospel. In this regard, the words of a song, an evengelical hymn, come to mind: "This world is not my home/I'm just-a' passin' through/My treasures are laid up somewhere beyond the blue..." This is Gnosticism, not Christianity. For Christians, the kingdom of God is not a dream deferred but a present reality, one we are called to witness to as we await the joyful hope and the coming of Savior, Jesus Christ. Meanwhile we fulfill the mission Christ gave to his Church, which is to be co-workers in bringing about the completion of God's good creation.

The alternative prayer (i.e., Collect) for the Solemnity of the Ascension of the Lord in the Liturgy of the Hours begins: "Father in heaven, our minds were prepared for the coming of your kingdom when you took Christ beyond our sight..." With prepared minds and a leveled gaze, let's set about our mission of ushering in God's kingdom in anticipation of Christ's return.

Quiet revolutions bring lasting change

I have been reading a brilliant book this past week: Pure Act: The Uncommon Life of Robert Lax. Like many people, I had previously only known about Lax via the writings of Thomas Merton. Lax was probably Merton's best friend from their days together at Columbia University until Merton entered Gethsemani. They corresponded regularly until Pater Tom's untimely death, the fiftieth anniversary of which was last December (a mea culpa for not writing about it then). Lax, who was Jewish, became Catholic a few years after Merton.

Bob Lax

Throughout the last two chapters I read, the figure of the eighteenth century saint Joseph Benedict Labre looms large. What I really admire about Robert Lax is the beautiful simplicity with which he lived his the latter portion of his life. He struggled for a long time to discern and then live out his vocation. Ironic as it may sound, in many ways his life was more monastic than was Pater Tom's. Ultimately, Lax very intentionally dedicated himself to peace and love, that is, to following Christ. He did so quietly and without a lot of "Look at me" piety that is so prevalent in this day of monetized faith.

I know, I know, how tiring to write he dedicated himself to peace and love. What a dismissive way to write about someone I am claiming to admire! But he really did this. Predictably, the results of his peaceful, loving life were not widespread. He certainly influenced those in his orbit in a powerful, yet quiet way. He lived for many years on the isle of Patmos in a small fishing village.

Since I've already used the phrase "peace and love," I might as well go the distance and say that Bob Lax was a prophet. By prophet I do not mean someone who was able to predict the future. At least in Biblical terms, this was never the role of the prophet. The role of the prophet is to call us back to fidelity to the God who is love, whose hesed (i.e., lovingkindness) is never-ending. The collected correspondence between Lax and Merton was given the title When Prophecy Still Had a Voice.

Rather than issue lofty proclamations and predictions of doom, to be a prophet in this age means to live prophetically. Living prophetically means to live like the reign of God is even now fully established, which means taking the actual, as opposed to the imagined and unjustly imputed, teaching of Jesus seriously, just as Lax did. To paraphrase Pope Paul VI as he expressed himself in the final major document promulgated during his pontificate, Evanglii Nuntiandi, his Apostolic Exhortation on evangelization, of which Pope Francis's Evangelii Gaudium serves as something of an update, to be a prophet today is to be a witness. Both Joseph Benedict Labre, whose prophetic calling strikes me as very post-modern, and Robert Lax are witnesses.

Quiet revolutions are usually the ones that have a lasting and positive effect. When I think about positive changes in my own life, the ones that have lasted are the ones I have made in the quietness of contemplation and just set about making without really broadcasting them. The ones I proclaim and vocally insist on seem to be the ones that fall by the wayside sooner rather than later.

I am not going to include any long extract from Pure Act. But I encourage you to check out this link.

So maybe there's a change you've been thinking about making. Perhaps you've been wondering how to go about making that change. I would encourage you, after properly discerning the need to make the change, to make a quiet resolution, something between you and God, and then begin making the change, resisting the temptation to tell everyone or maybe even to tell anyone about it. At the end of each day, as part of your daily Examen, reflect on how it went. Be gentle with yourself, especially if living the change didn't go well on a particular day. Ask for the grace to do better on the morrow and then resolve to do better. You can't make a meaningful change effortlessly, despite what hucksters tell you.

Instead of a song for this Sixth Friday of Easter, the day after Ascension Day in most parts of the world (throughout most of the Western U.S., where I live, we observe Ascension this Sunday), our traditio is one of Lax's poems: A Problem in Design. I think what this poem sets forth is nothing less than the esthetic of Lax's poetry. If Lax was a prophet, his oracles are his poems. He wrote in vertical style, which used a lot of space.

what if
you like
to draw
big flowers,

but what
if some
sage has
told you
that
there is
nothing
more
beautiful


nothing
more
beautiful


than a
straight
line
?

what should
you draw:
big flowers?
straight lines?

i think you should draw

big flowers
big flowers

big flowers
big flowers

big flowers
big flowers

big flowers
big flowers

until
they become
a straight
line.

Building the city of God

Readings: Acts 15:1-2.22-29; Ps. 67:2-3.5-6.8; Rev 21:10-14.22-23; John 14:23-19

Our second reading this week is again taken from the twenty-first chapter of Revelation. Once again, Revelation informs us in dramatic but certain terms that heaven will be on earth. The importance of this cannot be underestimated. In fact, how we live our lives and how we proclaim the Gospel hinge on understanding this very fundamental aspect of Christian faith. If we conceive of "heaven" as up in the sky then chances we think of ourselves living eternally as disembodied spirits. Too many Christians think of their beloved dead as angels. Human beings do not become angels because to become an angel would mean taking a step backward, not forward. Because Jesus was resurrected, we will be resurrected. As a result, we are destined to live forever embodied, which is not only how God made us but why God became human. "What is man that you are mindful of him," the psalmist asks God.¹ "Yet you have made him little less than a god," the psalmist continues, "crowned him with glory and honor."²

Thinking of heaven as "up there" somewhere and conceiving of yourself as a spirit trapped in a body is Gnostic, not Christian. It's difficult to think of an outlook more alien to authentic Christianity than Gnosticism. Christianity, which takes the Incarnation of God's only begotten Son as its starting point, has contended with Gnosticism, which is something of a spiritual parasite, from the start.

In his Apostolic Exhortation, Gaudete et exsultate, Pope Francis noted the danger of this Gnostic tendency. "Thanks be to God," the Holy Father writes, that throughout her history, the Church "has always been clear that a person’s perfection is measured not by the information or knowledge they possess, but by the depth of their charity."³ Those who tend toward Gnosticism "do not understand this," he continues, "because they judge others based on their ability to understand the complexity of certain doctrines."⁴ In separating the intellect from the body, these Gnostics render themselves "incapable of touching Christ’s suffering flesh in others, locked up as they are in an encyclopaedia of abstractions."⁵

It bears noting a second time in as many weeks that such a Gnostic view disconnects those who hold it from reality, causing them to constantly look beyond, distracting them from their own lives and the lives of others, especially those in need. It leads to an attitude captured well in the Letter of James. When confronted with someone who is clothed in rags and/or hungry, a person with this disconnected view responds by saying, in effect: "'Go in peace, keep warm, and eat well,' but [does] not give them the necessities of the body..."⁶

Rather than a garden, heaven-on-earth is a city. The city of God marks the completion of God's creation. It is only then that God will rest as will those who enter into the sabbath rest by inhabiting the city of God.⁷

Heavenly Jerusalem

Everyone is invited to live in the city of God. This is made clear by our first reading from the Acts of the Apostles. This reading tells about the somewhat anachronistically named "Council of Jerusalem." This council was convened to ascertain the status of Gentile (i.e., non-Jewish) converts to Christianity. Without a doubt, even prior to Paul's missionary activity among the Gentiles there were Gentile Christians. It's a pretty safe bet that this early on these Gentiles became Christian via Judaism. At this point, there was no hard-and-fast split between the church and the synagogue. This early on, Christians probably gathered in their own synagogues.

The difference between Gentiles who became Christians via Judaism and those who converted in response to Paul's evangelization efforts was that Paul forbade the latter from becoming Jews prior to becoming Christians. For example, Gentile men who converted were not circumcised. Paul emphatically insisted that a one becomes a Christian through baptism. Both men and women are baptized. In his Letter to the Galatians, which is Paul's strongest extant repudiation of the idea that Gentiles needed to become Jews into order to be Christians, wrote: "There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free person, there is not male and female; for you are all one in Christ Jesus."⁸

Understandably, Paul's radical activity quickly became a matter of concern due to the fact that it caused many great scandal. As a result, Paul was called to Jerusalem to answer for himself. It seems that Paul acquitted himself well, at least well enough for the council to reach an accommodation for the Gentiles. This accommodation permitted the continuation evangelization throughout the world to everyone, irrespective of race or gender. This is how the citizenry of the city of God is gathered, shaped, and formed.

Our Gospel for this Sixth Sunday of Easter- the Sunday just before our celebration of Jesus's Ascension- breaks into three separate but related parts. Jesus tells those close to him that they are his disciples only if they keep his word. What is his word? It is the new commandment he gave them in last week's Gospel reading: love another as he (Jesus) has loved them.⁹ Second, Jesus promises them that even though he is leaving he will not abandon them. He promises to send the Spirit. The Spirit will remind them of everything Jesus taught them. Peace is what the Spirit brings in every situation, no matter how perilous. The Holy Spirit is the way Jesus remains present in, among, and through his disciples until he returns. Third, Jesus assures his troubled disciples that he will return. As his disciples, striving to love each other the way Jesus loves us is how we "await the blessed hope and the coming of our Savior, Jesus Christ."¹⁰

"I'm hopeful," the late poet Robert Lax, a close friend of Thomas Merton's, told a young Mike McGrgeor in the mid-1980s, "that the world's societies are caught up in an evolutionary moment, one that will bring us into the ideal city, where music will play and all will move to it. If you decide to put on all blue clothes and do cartwheels across the square, that will be fine and in time with the music."¹¹ When McGregor, noticing no such movement afoot in the world, asked Lax how this might be realized, the poet admitted he didn't know. Lax, who was Jewish and who, like Merton, became Catholic as a young adult, said, "the first step was to be positive and hopeful."¹² He was convinced that we each need to do our part, not only as Christians but as human beings, by living our belief "that violence shouldn't be part of life."¹³ We do this by seeking to eliminate violence from our own lives. "In every moment," Lax observed, "we make decisions, both large and small. True life comes in understanding that these decisions are of ultimate importance."¹⁴

This brings us back to the beginning, to Jerusalem, the holy city coming down from heaven. The holy city will have no temple. God himself and the Lamb, Jesus Christ, will be the temple. Jesus, the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world, will be the lamp that gives light to the city. Jesus Christ, we are told at the very beginning of John's Gospel, is the "true light, which enlightens everyone."¹⁵

How fitting, then, is our Psalm response today- "God, let all the nations praise you"? This is just another way of saying the alternative Psalm response, which can be used every Sunday during Easter: "Alleluia!"

---

1 Psalm 8:5..^↩
2 Psalm 8:6..^↩
3 Pope Francis, Gaudete et exsultate [[On the Call to Holiness in Today's World], sec. 37.^↩
4 Ibid.^↩
5 Ibid/.^↩
6 James 2:15-16.^↩
7 See Hebrews 4:8-13.^↩
8 Galatians 3:28.^↩
9 John 13:34-35.^↩
10 The Roman Missal, “The Order of Mass,” sec. 125.^↩
11 Michal N. McGregor, Pure Act: The Uncommon Life of Robert Lax, 23.^↩
12 Ibid.^↩
13 Ibid.^↩
14 Ibid., 24.^↩
15 John 1:9.^↩

(Dis)Satisfaction

The weather here along the Wasatch Front is rainy and cold. It's still snowing in the mountains. As more or less a lifelong resident of this place, I have to say that I have never experienced anything like this here. I remember one time it snowed in June. Once in awhile we have a summer during which the temperature does not rise to normal levels. The Spring and Summer of 2010 come to mind as fairly cold and somewhat rainy. Prior to that I'd have to go all the way back to 1995. I only mention this at length because it's so unusual. I have to say, I like the weather. I enjoy the rain and coolness.

Weber River

July and August are my least favorite months of the year here. On an unrelated note, I have once again been thinking about contentment and satisfaction. At least for me, this means thinking about how elusive satisfaction is. How often do you feel satisfied? How long does that feeling of satisfaction last? When you are tempted to feel satisfied, or actually feel satisfied, do you catch yourself thinking something like "This will be over in a few hours?" Living in the moment is not as easy as it sounds.

I suppose our longing for satisfaction is what makes us posit something a heaven, a nirvana, or other afterlife. In heaven all our longings are fulfilled, we are satisfied. Nirvana, which consists of the annihilation of one's self, one's self-consciousness, all desire is overcome. This is one of the main reasons I could never be a Buddhist. I happen to think my longing, my desire is what makes me.

I am pretty sure that learning to live in the moment is training for what lies beyond. It makes no sense for the two to be disconnected. One of the reasons I am not an optimist is because I experience moments of satisfaction so rarely. Another reason is that moments of satisfaction usually happen spontaneously. It seems that whenever I have high expectations about some event, the event does not rise to my expectations. I have to say, these days my expectations are usually pretty low. Having low (i.e., realistic) expectations is a key to living in a balanced way.

After that what other choice do I have but to post "Satisfaction" as our Friday traditio. Instead of the Stones, a group I like just fine, I am going with my favorite version of this classic rock song. My favorite version is Devo's.