Saturday, April 11, 2020

Homily for Easter Sunday 2020

Acts 10:34a, 37-43
Ps 118: 1-2, 16-17, 22-23
Col 3:1-4
Jn 20:1-9

“This is the day the Lord has made; 
let us rejoice and be glad.” 

These joyful words from the responsorial psalm have been circling the globe and stirring the universe for hours. First in Australia, then Taiwan and the Churches of Mainland China.  After passing through Asia and Russia they were proclaimed in Poland, Slovenia and England while the East Coast of the United States was barely waking up. 

这是  上主    所    安排   的   一天, 
我们   要   欢欣  鼓舞。
(Zhe shi  shang zhu   suo  an pan  de yi tian,  
wo men yao  huan yin  gu wu.)

By the end of this day, the joyful command from the psalms will have been repeated in: Mandarin, Fujianese, Swahili, Tagalog, Slovenian, Croatian, Portuguese, Latin, English, and every other tongue in the known world, as the news of Jesus’ resurrection from the dead is proclaimed yet again. 

"To je dan, ki ga je Gospod, naredil, 
veselimo se ga in se radujmo."

The first reading from the Acts of the Apostles summarizes Jesus’ life, beginning with His baptism and ending with His death on the cross.  We hear the commission to the apostles to preach the message of salvation.  It is the same commission we receive: Preach the message of salvation through Jesus!  That message is the reason we are to rejoice and be glad.  Jesus is the one set apart. Those who believe in him have  forgiveness of sins through His name. 

"Este é o dia que o Senhor fez, 
vamos nos alegrar e ser felizes"

As St. Paul so memorably wrote to the Romans:  “God showed his love for us in that while we were yet sinners Christ died for us.”  While we were yet sinners Christ died for us.  Jesus, fully Divine and fully human, Son of God and Son of Mary, like us in all things but sin, died for our sins, because of our sins, and to save us from those sins.  We are sinners.  But, we are sinners passionately loved by God.  We are redeemed by Jesus’ passion and death in a redemption made manifest in His resurrection from the dead.  What more can we say than?

"Oto jest dzień, który dał nam Pan. 
Weselmy się w nim i radujmy."

In the proclamation of John’s Gospel we heard of the disciple’s astonishment, confusion, sorrow, and fear upon discovering that the tomb in which Jesus had been placed was empty. The burial cloths were rolled up and lying off to the side.  The last line of this Gospel reading is instructive:  “Remember, as yet they did not understand the Scripture that Jesus had to rise from the dead.”  They did not yet understand.  Despite the years that they had followed Him the disciples did not really understand who this Jesus was.  But that was going to change at Pentecost when the Holy Spirit descended.

"Haec dies quam fecit Dominus;
exsultemus et laetemur in ea"

The apostle’s confusion and lack of understanding of Jesus mirrors our situation.  Despite Jesus’ action in our lives, we don’t always understand.  Unlike the apostles who lived the events told here in real time we have scripture and the tradition of the Church to instruct us and help us understand.  Still, we don’t always get it.  We sometimes fail to understand how great a gift Jesus is to us. We sometimes fail to appreciate the gift he gave us.  Thus, it is today, and every day, we are called to pray, to meditate on scripture and to receive the Sacred Body and Blood of Christ so that unlike the apostles, we will understand, we will see, and, through understanding and seeing,  we will believe. 

As the paschal candle was lit in those places where Mass was possible the  priest's words, said while inscribing the paschal candle, explain everything. 

“Christ yesterday and today
the beginning and the end. 
Alpha and Omega; 
all time belongs to him, 
and all the ages; 
to him be glory and power, 
through every age for ever.” 

“This is the day the Lord has made, 
let us rejoice and be glad.” 


Alleluia
Alleluia
Alleluia. 

_______________________________
Photos of flowers, mostly, and nature.  No commentary necessary.  Have a Blessed Easter. 
















 +Fr Jack, SJ, MD

Thursday, April 9, 2020

Homily for Good Friday 2020

Jn 19:25-27


. . . But standing by the cross of Jesus were his mother,  and his mother's sister, 
Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene.  When Jesus saw his mother, and the disciple whom he loved standing near, he said to his mother, "Woman, behold, your son."  Then he said to the disciple, "Behold your mother."  And from that hour the disciple took her to his own home." 

The Gospel of the Lord.
_____________________________________________

Stabat Mater dolorosa
Iuxta Crucem lacrimosa
Dum pendebat filius

At the cross her station keeping
Stood the mournful mother weeping
Close to Jesus to the last. 

The 13th century  Stabat Mater Dolorosa is one of the greatest of all Latin hymns.  It has been set to music by composers from Palestrina in the 16th century through Rossini in the 19th to Poulenc and Szymanowski in the 20th.  The hymn meditates on the sorrows of Mary, Mother of Jesus.  It recalls the sorrows prophesied at Jesus' presentation in the Temple as recounted in Luke's Gospel: "Simeon blessed them and said to Mary, his mother, 'Behold this child is set for the fall and rising of many in Israel, and for a sign that is spoken against and a sword will pierce through your own soul also."

Each verse recounts another dimension of the pathos as Mary stood at the foot of her Son's cross--that "sign that is spoken against"--that she heard of in Simeon's prophecy many years earlier.  

"Cuius animam gementem, 
Contristatam et colentem, 
Pertransivit gladius."

"Through her heart, His sorrow sharing, 
All His bitter anguish bearing, 
Now at length the sword had passed."

Place yourself in the scene.  Go to Calvary in your mind's eye and watch the scene described by John.  Jesus, hanging on the cross as life ebbs from his body. Mary, His Mother watching, the words of Simeon ringing in her ears. The beloved disciple.  Helpless and hopeless at the loss of all he had found in Jesus.  How does Jesus' voice sound? Is it strong?  Or does he struggle to speak in a hoarse whisper?  Is Mary standing straight and stoic? Or is she collapsing under the unique grief of a mother watching her child die?  What of John? Does he remain standing in the same in place?  Or does he move closer to the woman who is now his mother?

Note that Jesus said "Behold your mother."  He did not say "my mother" but "your mother."  In this charge and in his words to Mary,  "Woman behold your son" Jesus confirmed Mary's role as the new Eve, mother to us all, a mother whose obedience reversed Eve's sin, a reversal that began when she replied to the angel, "Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord; may it be done unto me according to your word." 

"Pro peccatis suae gentis
Vidit Iesum in tormentis, 
Et flagellis subditum."

"For His people's sins rejected,
Saw her Jesus unprotected, 
All with bloody scourges rent."

Remain there contemplating the scene.  Gaze up at Jesus suspended between heaven and earth.  He is close to death.  Exhausted by the struggle.  Haggard.  Dehydrated.  Pale from blood loss. 

During his two long retreats praying the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius of Loyola, a Jesuit is instructed by Ignatius to place himself at the foot of the cross and then: "Imagine Christ our Lord on the cross.  Ask yourself how, from Creator, Jesus is come to make Himself man, and so to die for my sins.  Likewise, looking at myself ask: What have I done for Christ? What am I doing for Christ?  What ought I to do for Christ? 

However, on this Good Friday, as we commemorate Christ's passion and death, there is another triple colloquy we must make: 

What has Christ done for me?
What is Christ doing for me?
What will Christ do for me?  

While we could probably come to some sort of agreement on an answer for the first question, what has Christ done for me, the answers to, what is Christ doing for me and what will Christ do for me will be unique to each of us.  Perhaps they will never be raised to a level of answers we can articulate.  They may have to remain answers that we can only experience in silent prayer.  

"Fac, ut ardeat cor meum, 
In amando Christum Deum, 
Ut sibi complaceam."

"Unto Christ with pure emotion, 
Raise my contrite heart's devotion, 
To read love in every wound."

We are sinners.  But, we are sinners loved by God.  Loved passionately and completely by God.  We are loved by God who sent His only Son, born of Mary, who now stands at the foot of the cross.  We are loved by God who sent His only Son to die for our sins and the sins of all humankind. 

A little over three months ago--under very different circumstances than today--we were able to gather in churches throughout the world to celebrate Jesus' birth.  We heard Luke's narrative of that event--the Christmas Story as it is commonly called.  BUT . . . It is a story that is incomplete, and indeed, absurd if forced to stand alone.  Were we not contemplating this gospel today, the Christmas story would make no sense.   It would nothing more than a pretty story without meaning.  We can only understand the Christmas story in today's context, it can only exist because of Jesus' passion, death, and resurrection. 

Some of the greatest theological statements in history have been made not by academics, learned and professional theologians who write in jargon and agonize over Greek vowels, or who debate whether Jesus is just a metaphor or a symbol.  The greatest theological statements have been made by men and women who didn’t just talk the talk.  They walked the walk. They did the heavy lifting.  One of them was the late Dag Hammarskjold, third Secretary General of the U.N. who died in a mysterious plane crash while negotiating peace in the Congo in 1961.   

Hammarskjold captured the entire history of our salvation—the reason we are here today—in a haiku; a short poem of twelve simple words, a mere seventeen syllables: 

On Christmas Eve, Good Friday
Was foretold them
In a trumpet fanfare


We know what Christ has done for us. 
Now we are called to figure out,

What have I done for Christ?
What am I doing for Christ?
What ought I to do for Christ? 

__________________________

One of the great graces my first year as a priest was Rev. Anita Ambrose's phone call to my mom in early 2008.  Anita was long-time pastor of the Welsh Baptist Church on Shawnee Ave.  I'd known her for years.  She called to ask mom if I would be interested in preaching at the Ecumenical Good Friday service. Mom, ever practical replied, "Call him.  Here is his number." (She never gave my number to anyone with whom I didn't share a few genes.  Anita was special.)  It took ten seconds to agree with one stipulation; I had to be done by 2:15 as I was the celebrant for the Good Friday liturgy that began at 3 PM at St. Mary's, four blocks away. 

I am grateful to Anita for having me back for several years until distance took its toll, This is one of the homilies.  It is much longer than I would ever give at the very long Good Friday liturgy.  I also feel strongly that a priest should not preach at any kind of length after the reading of the entire Passion.  The Passion can--and must be allowed to--stand on its own. 

Took the photo in the choir loft in the Jesuit church on the grounds of Sevenhill Winery, in the Clare Valley, South Australia.  

+Fr. Jack, SJ, MD

Homily for Holy Thursday

Holy Thursday  
April 2020

We are now beginning the longest liturgy of the year under extraordinary circumstances, indeed under circumstances that are unprecedented in our lifetimes and, one hopes, never to recur.  Mass began in the usual way with the sign of the cross.  That sign of our salvation will not be made in a liturgical setting again until the conclusion of the Easter Vigil Mass some fifty hours from now, a vigil that will also be celebrated under constrained circumstances. However, despite the ability of most of us to attend Mass and the other liturgies in person, the next three days will comprise one uninterrupted liturgy of prayer and contemplation even as we go about our usual daily tasks in quarantine.   

The first reading described the Passover meal that marked the beginning of the Exodus.  Last evening, April 8, Jews throughout the world began their recollection and reenactment of this event at their seder tables.  Part of the seder ritual includes the plaintive question, "Why is this night different from all other nights?"  We can ask the same question.  "Why is this night different from all other nights?" 

Tonight is different from all other nights because we commemorate the institution of the great gift of the Eucharist, the True Body and Blood of Christ, present to us in the sacrament of the altar, present to us who choose and wish to partake. 

Tonight is different from all other nights because it is a night of confused wonder that began with the joy of the Gloria but will end in silence as the altar is stripped.  This three-day liturgy that recalls our redemption from sin and death calls us to prayer and to contemplation of the great truths that mark our faith.  Over the next fifty hours we will hear the proclamation of the Passion on Good Friday and the detailed recounting of our history as a people and as Church in the readings of the vigil Mass.  More critically, however, and indeed, something that we can do in quarantine or out, over the next hours we are called to listen to the silence and to enter into that silence. 

On this night, a night unlike any other in history, not the history of the transient world on which we live but the universe created by God, consider the words of Robert Cardinal Sarah from his book, The Power of Silence: Against the Dictatorship of Noise.

We "encounter God in truth only in silence and solitude" a silence and solitude that is  both interior and exterior.  That silence and solitude is found in the monastic cell or in our own rooms, it is the silence and solitude of the grandparent contemplating a sleeping grandchild or the recently widowed visiting the grave.  It is the silence of Eucharistic adoration and the silence of sitting in a chair looking out the window.  It is a silence that is less dependent on place and setting than it is on our internal dispositions.  

Cardinal Sarah elaborates, "Silence is not an absence.  On the contrary, it is the manifestation of a presence, the most intense of all presences."

Remain with and in that presence over these next three days.
______________________________________________________

Will post homilies for each day from Thursday to Easter Sunday. The photo is from Mass in a monastery where I was asked to photograph the liturgy.


+Fr Jack, SJ, MD


Monday, April 6, 2020

Blessing baskets for święconka

A little earlier today I received an email request from an unknown viewer of this blog asking for permission to distribute the prayers for the blessing of the baskets as it will not be done publicly this year.  The custom of blessing the baskets for święconka or the 'holy breakfast' is something with which I grew up and was later able to perform as a priest.  I've included the prayers in English and translated by Google translate (hilariously, it was a bit of work to get the prayers into usable form) and the Polish prayers that were sent by a Polish friend.  

Lord Jesus Christ, on the day before your Passion and Death, you ordered the disciples to prepare the passover supper.  On the day of your Resurrection you accepted the invitation to join the two disciples you met on the road to Emmaus at table. That evening you went to the apostles and ate with them.  We ask that you grant us the grace to recognize your presence among us during the holy breakfast that we eat on the day you conquered death. May we rejoice in your resurrection and the promise of eternal life forever and ever.  

Amen.

Christ, The Living Bread, you came down from heaven and
gave the gift of the Eucharist to the world. 
Bless the bread + that recalls the manna with which the Father fed the Israelites
as they wandered in the desert, and the bread with which you miraculously fed
those who followed you in the wilderness.

Lamb of God, you who conquered death
and redeemed us from our sins,
bless + the meats, sausages, and all the foods 
that we consume in memory of the Paschal Lamb,
who shared the Passover meal with His Apostles at the last Supper.

Bless the salt + and, as salt preserves food from spoiling,
save and protect us from the corruption of sin. 

Christ, our life and our hope,  bless + the eggs, a symbol of new life,
that we will share with family, friends and guests
and thus, share with them the joy of your presence among us. 
Guide us to your eternal feast, the heavenly banquet, 
where You live and reign forever and ever. 
______________________________________________________

Przewodniczący mówi: (The Celebrant says:)

Prośmy Chrystusa Pana, zawsze obecnego wśród tych, którzy Go miłują, aby pobłogosławił te pokarmy na stół wielkanocny.

Wszyscy modlą się przez chwilę w ciszy. (Prayer in silence)

Panie Jezu Chryste, Ty w dzień przed męką i śmiercią kazałeś uczniom przygotować paschalną wieczerzę, w dzień Zmartwychwstania przyjąłeś zaproszenie dwóch uczniów i zasiadłeś z nimi do stołu, a późnym wieczorem przyszedłeś do Apostołów, aby spożyć wraz z nimi posiłek; prosimy Cię, daj nam z wiarą przeżywać Twoją obecność między nami podczas świątecznego posiłku w dzień Twojego zwycięstwa, abyśmy mogli się radować z udziału w Twoim życiu i zmartwychwstaniu.

Chlebie żywy, który zstąpiłeś z nieba i w Komunii świętej dajesz życie światu, pobłogosław † ten chleb i wszelkie świąteczne pieczywo na pamiątkę chleba, którym nakarmiłeś lud słuchający Ciebie wytrwale na pustkowiu, i który po swym zmartwychwstaniu przygotowałeś nad jeziorem dla swoich uczniów.

Baranku Boży, który zwyciężyłeś zło i obmyłeś świat z grzechów, pobłogosław † to mięso, wędliny i wszelkie pokarmy, które będziemy jedli na pamiątkę Baranka paschalnego i świątecznych potraw, które Ty spożyłeś z Apostołami na Ostatniej Wieczerzy. Pobłogosław także † naszą sól, aby chroniła nas od zepsucia.

Chryste, życie i zmartwychwstanie nasze, pobłogosław † te jajka, znak nowego życia, abyśmy dzieląc się nimi w gronie rodziny, bliskich i gości, mogli się także dzielić wzajemnie radością z tego, że jesteś z nami. Daj nam wszystkim dojść do wiecznej uczty Twojej tam, gdzie Ty żyjesz i królujesz na wieki wieków.

Wszyscy odpowiadają: (All respond)
______________________________________
Wouldn't be official without a photo.  Took this a few hours ago just outside the backdoor of the satellite community in which I live.  

+Fr. Jack

Saturday, April 4, 2020

Homily for Palm Sunday

The Passion of Our Lord Jesus Christ. 
The most horrifying words ever written. 
The Passion of Our Lord Jesus Christ
The most consoling words ever proclaimed. 
On Thursday the Church will commemorate the institution
of the great gift of the Eucharist. 
On Friday the Passion will be read yet again. 
On Saturday the Easter vigil readings will proclaim
the stories of creation and our salvation.
But today we will be weighed down
by the echo of the words:
The Passion of Our Lord Jesus Christ. 
We sit in stunned silence. 
______________________________
Over Holy week I will post homilies for Palm Sunday and the Triduum. It is unnatural not to be preparing to celebrate the liturgies at the Abbey of Regina Laudis in CT, something I've done annually for six years (with the exception of being in Slovenia). Indeed, the plan was to drive down today so as to celebrate the entirety of Holy Week into Easter Monday: Latin liturgy Gregorian chant. The liturgies will occur there, the nuns are cloistered, but they will be at a much reduced level, without the usual people from the community. 
A homily after the reading of passion that is more than about one hundred twenty words is more than any priest should attempt. A homily that attempts to relate the narration of the passion to current social ills is a sacrilege. It is one gospel that must be allowed to stand on its own. 
The attached photos are from Campion Center in Weston, MA the year I celebrated the Palm Sunday Mass.

The palms at the back of the Chapel of the Holy Spirit. 

The red vestments with which I would vest a few hours after taking these shots.

Sacristies are like grandma's attic.  The candelabra are in place for the liturgies later in the week.

I made the very rare hat trick of pronouncing my first vows in 1999 and final vows in 2013 kneeling in front of that altar, and celebrating my first Mass (2007) behind it.

+Fr. Jack, SJ, MD

Saturday, March 28, 2020

Homily for the 5th Sunday of Lent

Ez 37:12-14
Ps 130
Rom 8:8-11
Jn 11:1-45

In the context of today, the readings and the responsorial psalm are both a reminder and a consolation.  The modern world is being forced to confront the reality and unpredictability of illness and death, a reality that was more familiar during times of plague throughout history before the discovery of antibiotics and other health measures.  Even as recently as a century ago the Spanish flu, reminded the world, still in throes of recovering from WW I, of fundamental realities.  Since 1919 medical progress has resulted in a life expectancy that shot up from 49 years of age to almost 80 years of age.  With progress however, comes new complications and new risks.  

Ezekiel begins with a promise:
"Thus says the Lord God: 
I will open your graves
and have you rise from them."

The Jewish Study Bible gives interesting commentary on this passage:  “Traditional Jewish scholars find in this passage, the idea of the resurrection of the dead before the day of judgment. This was a fundamental belief of rabbinic Judaism attributed to Moses.”   Obviously the idea of the resurrection of the dead is not a new belief that emerged in Christianity. But, even within ancient Judaism the resurrection of the dead was not universally accepted or believed.  While the Pharisees believed in the resurrection of the dead, the Sadducees did not.  This raised some complex dilemmas in other gospel narratives.  

The responsorial psalm, Psalm 130 known as De Profundis from the first two words in Latin, is a psalm for today.  It is one of the most beautiful and evocative psalms in the entire psalter.  

De profundis clamavi ad te, Domine:
Domine, exaudi vocem meam.

Out of the depths I cry to you, Lord.
Lord, hear my voice.

We call to the Lord out of the depths of our anguish, our current world anguish and the anguish we've experienced over the years and decades, the personal and private pain we may or may not be able to share with others.  We call from the tomb--self-imposed and imposed upon us--in which we find ourselves again and again.  The psalm reminds us that we call to the Lord who hears our plea; the Lord who forgives our sins.  We wonder if we can forgive ourselves or others.  We implore the Lord for the optimism of a new day, a new dawn, that we eagerly await.  Psalm 130 is short, a mere eight verses.  Read it and meditate on it.  

The readings and psalm prepare us to hear the cinematically detailed story of Lazarus.  It is not only the story of Lazarus.  It is our story.  It is the revelation of being brought from death to life in Christ through the forgiveness of sins until  the final resurrection of the dead.  

Jesus, fully human, weeps at Lazarus’ tomb.  Jesus, fully God commands Lazarus to come forth from that tomb.   This same Jesus, fully human, wept over Jerusalem as he weeps over us.  This same Jesus, fully God,  called the son of the widow of Nain to rise from his stretcher and the daughter of the official to get up from her bed, just as he calls us to eternal life.  

In his commentary on this Gospel  the late Jesuit Father Stanley Marrow points out the fundamental difference between Lazarus, the son of the widow of Nain, the daughter of Jairus; and Jesus. If one were forced to choose only two words to describe that difference they would be reanimation and resurrection.  Lazarus, the widow’s son, and the young girl were reanimated for a period of time, only to die later.  Miraculous?  Yes.  It is not unlike the modern miracle of cardiac resuscitation or the miracles wrought daily in hospitals throughout the world.  We can and do bring people back from that edge, even when they seem to have crossed it.  However, these are temporary stays of death at best.   Only Jesus was resurrected from the dead never to die again.  

If Lazarus is us so is Martha.  The same Martha who complained to Jesus about Mary's inactivity in Jesus' presence  now makes a profound act of faith,  “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.  But even now I know that whatever you ask of God, God will give you.”   And then  the climax of this narrative: 

“I am the resurrection and life;
whoever believes in me will live,
and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.”  

It is not that we will not die to this life.  Jesus is not promising that we won’t become ill and suffer. Our deaths may come quickly without time to prepare.  Our deaths may signify the end of a slow but easy passage from this life; a deep sigh at the end and nothing more.  Or we may die after a prolonged period of pain, suffering, and decay.  The mode of death is not ours to choose, particularly in the planned killing of the sick elderly or the unwanted child.  What Jesus is promising is that, in Stanley’s words, “the eternal life which we possess here and now cannot and will not be interrupted even by death.” 

We cry to the Lord out of the depths.  
The Lord answers with kindness and plenteous redemption. 
What more could  we want? 
 __________________________________________




The cross on top of sv. Višarje, a site of pilgrimage in the Julian Alps in Italy, barely across the borders with Slovenia and Austria.  It recalls the motto of the Carthusian Order. Stat Crux Dum Volvitur Orbis (The Cross Stands Firm While the World Turns)  

There are Carthusian houses in all three countries.   

+Fr. Jack, SJ, MD

Tuesday, March 24, 2020

The Vigil of the Solemnity of the Annunciation

Tomorrow is the Solemnity of the Annunciation of the Lord. It is the day on which we commemorate and celebrate Mary's yes in response to the angel: 

"Ecce ancilla Domini,
 fiat mihi secundum verbum tuum."

Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord, 
may it be done unto me according to your word."

I will post my homily tomorrow morning.  Attached here is a YouTube of Franz Biebl's 'Ave Maria' in the form of the Angelus, a traditional prayer said three times daily; typically at 6 AM, noon, and 6 PM.  

Biebl originally wrote the Ave Maria for acapella four part men's chorus which is the version I put up here.  He later made arrangements for four-part mixed chorus and women's chorus.  There are many YouTube recordings, simply type in his name and Ave Maria.  Hundreds of versions.  The video is a little distracting, flipping as it does between the performance and rehearsal.  

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rby62ZghBWg 

(you may need to copy and paste into browser)

The Angelus includes three versicles and responses followed by the recitation of the Hail Mary. 

Angelus Domini nuntiavit Mariae
Et concepit de Spiritu sancto.
(The angel of the Lord declared unto Mary
and she conceived by the Holy Spirit)

Ave Maria, gratia plena, Dominus tecum.
Benedicta…
(Hail Mary full of grace . . . )

Maria dixit: Ecce ancilla Domini.
Fiat mihi secundum verbum tuum.
(Mary replied: Behold the Handmaid of the Lord, 
May it be done unto me according to your word)

Ave Maria, gratia plena, Dominus tecum.
Benedicta…
(Hail Mary full of grace . . . )

Et Verbum caro factum est
Et habitavit in nobis.
(And the Word was made flesh, 
and dwelt among us)

Ave Maria, gratia plena, Dominus tecum.
Benedicta…
(Hail Mary full of grace . . . )

Amern.