Reflection -- Feast of the Holy Family -- modified

In the readings from Mass today, the Gospel reading is "the Finding in the Temple," the fifth Joyful Mystery of the rosary.


The Gospel includes:

Each year Jesus’ parents went to Jerusalem for the feast of Passover, 

and when he was twelve years old, they went up according to festival custom.  After they had completed its days, as they were returning, the boy Jesus remained behind in Jerusalem, but his parents did not know it.

Thinking that he was in the caravan, they journeyed for a day and looked for him among their relatives and acquaintances, but not finding him, they returned to Jerusalem to look for him.

After three days they found him in the temple, sitting in the midst of the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions, and all who heard him were astounded at his understanding and his answers.

Mary and Joseph searched for Jesus.  We can hear in this a passage from the Song of Songs:

On my bed at night I sought him* whom my soul loves — I sought him but I did not find him.
“Let me rise then and go about the city,* through the streets and squares;  Let me seek him whom my soul loves.”  I sought him but I did not find him.

It is as though you can hear of Joseph and Mary as they "go about the city," and "through the streets" seeking Jesus who is "him whom my soul loves."

We hear a similar theme again on the morning of that 1st Easter in the Gospel of St John :

But Mary stayed outside the tomb weeping.  And as she wept, she bent over into the tomb 
and saw two angels in white sitting there, one at the head and one at the feet where the body of Jesus had been. 
And they said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?” She said to them, “They have taken my Lord, and I don’t know where they laid him.” 
When she had said this, she turned around and saw Jesus there, but did not know it was Jesus.

In both New Testament passages, they are seeking the Lord, the one whom they love.

Jesus asks his mother:

Why were you looking for me?

They searched because he is the one that they love.  And suddenly they came upon him.


As we read in Song of Songs:

Hardly had I left them when I found him whom my soul loves.*  I held him and would not let him go until I had brought him to my mother’s house, to the chamber of her who conceived me.

Then in John we read:

Jesus said to her (Mary Magdalene), “Stop holding on to me,* for I have not yet ascended to the Father.  But go to my brothers and tell them, ‘I am going to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’”

And we can see Mary Magdalene just as she turns she suddenly sees Jesus, not knowing it is he, and that "she held him and would not let him go."  So, Jesus tells her "Stop holding on to me."  And it is evident that this was done to fulfill what was written in the scriptures.

Each of us must seek the one whom we love.  God has made us for himself, and our hearts are ever restless, until they rest in God, as St Augustine has said.

Yet, without the Son coming into the world, none of us could ever find that one whom we love, nor could we find rest.

But Jesus says:  Come to me all you who are weary, and I will give you rest.

Robert Barron on Stephen Hawking

Over the last  week or so, I've come across a couple of items involving Stephen Hawking and the existence of God.

One was an article at WordOnFire, the second is the video incorporated below.  Both are by Robert Barron, a bishop from the archdiocese of Los Angeles.


Bishop Barron begins by praising Hawking, and then adds a 'but:'

by all accounts, he was man of good humor with a rare gift for friendship. It is practically impossible not to admire him. But boy was he annoying when he talked about religion!

He addresses Hawking's most recent book, and in particular his first chapter writing:

Things get off to a very bad start in the opening line of the chapter: “Science is increasingly answering questions that used to be the province of religion.” Though certain primitive forms of religion might be construed as attempts to answer what we would consider properly scientific questions, religion, in the developed sense of the term, is not asking and answering scientific questions poorly; rather, it is asking and answering qualitatively different kinds of questions. Hawking’s glib one-liner beautifully expresses the scientistic attitude, by which I mean the arrogant tendency to reduce all knowledge to the scientific form of knowledge. Following their method of empirical observation, hypothesis formation, and experimentation, the sciences can indeed tell us a great deal about a certain dimension of reality. But they cannot, for example, tell us a thing about what makes a work of art beautiful, what makes a free act good or evil, what constitutes a just political arrangement, what are the features of a being qua being—and indeed, why there is a universe of finite existence at all. These are all philosophical and/or religious matters, and when a pure scientist, employing the method proper to the sciences, enters into them, he does so awkwardly, ham-handedly. 

Many of the people I have known have had a similar perspective as Hawking.  A novel by Douglas Preston, Blasphemy, describes conversations among scientists that are similar to conversations I've had or overheard with scientists and engineers.

It seems as though not one of them has ever read or maybe even heard of the Summa, nor its' discussion about God's existence.


Aquinas' topics include:

1. Is the proposition "God exists" self-evident?
2. Is it demonstrable?
3. Does God exist?

As to 'does God exist' Aquinas writes:

Article 3. Whether God exists?

Objection 1. It seems that God does not exist; because if one of two contraries be infinite, the other would be altogether destroyed. But the word "God" means that He is infinite goodness. If, therefore, God existed, there would be no evil discoverable; but there is evil in the world. Therefore God does not exist. 

Objection 2. Further, it is superfluous to suppose that what can be accounted for by a few principles has been produced by many. But it seems that everything we see in the world can be accounted for by other principles, supposing God did not exist. For all natural things can be reduced to one principle which is nature; and all voluntary things can be reduced to one principle which is human reason, or will. Therefore there is no need to suppose God's existence. 

On the contrary, It is said in the person of God: "I am Who am." (Exodus 3:14) 

I answer that, The existence of God can be proved in five ways. 

It is a good idea to read and consider his five (5) proofs of God's existence.

There is a video discussion involving Bishop Barron on this same topic (Hawking and God's existence) shown below.

It is, as I have commented earlier in this blog, a good thing to have some humility in the presence of God.

Reflection 31st Sunday in Ordinary Time: Hear Oh Israel.....

On Saturday, 27 Oct 2018, a gunman entered a synagogue and opened fire killing eleven (11), and wounding several others.  As the last of those killed was buried, NBC presented the Kaddish, the Jewish prayer for the dead:  NBC Nightly News Kaddish -- Cantor Azi Schwartz of the Park Avenue Synagogue recites the Jewish Kaddish ( hat tip to Deacon's Bench).


Today's 1st Reading includes another very famous and common Jewish Prayer, the Shema:

Hear, O Israel! The LORD is our God, the LORD alone!

The homilist at Mass this morning pointed out that many devout Jews pray this every morning.  

In the Gospel Reading from today's Mass, a scribe approaches Jesus and asks him:

Which is the first of all the commandments?

Jesus' initial response is the shema (Dt 6:4-5).  He then quotes from a passage in Leviticus (Lv 19:18), saying:

The second is this: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no other commandment greater than these.

In today's second reading, from the letter to the Hebrews we read:

      It was fitting that we should have such a high priest:
      holy, innocent, undefiled, separated from sinners,
      higher than the heavens.
      He has no need, as did the high priests,
      to offer sacrifice day after day,
      first for his own sins and then for those of the people;
      he did that once for all when he offered himself.
      For the law appoints men subject to weakness to be high priests,
      but the word of the oath, which was taken after the law,
      appoints a son,
      who has been made perfect forever.

Jesus, the living bread come down from heaven, the way the truth and the life, the light of the world, the Word made flesh, does not offer sacrifice for his own sins, but for the sins of the world.

He who did not know sin became sin, took on the effects of sin, so that we who are sinners might have eternal life.  In his passion death and resurrection he gives himself completely for us, and in each and every Mass, he gives himself completely for us and to us so that we may have life and have it to the full.

Are there Unforgivable Sins?

In the news lately there have been abundant statements, positions and hand wringing about decades old sexual relationships between adults and children, especially between Catholic clergy and some children, and Catholic clergy living as though the Good News meant nothing.  Some have referred to it as a crisis of Faith, and I think that's a good description of what has been happening.

Most of the comments indicate they think there is a serious and fundamental flaw in Catholic Teaching, Belief, and Ecclesiology.  It's as if they are saying "Those darn Catholics.  They're irredeemable."


This is of a piece with something that permeates our culture.  I first noticed it a few years ago, when a certain former NFL quarterback made a comeback after a stint in prison for 'dogfighting.'  Many people I encountered, even in my own family, acted as though someone who had been involved in this activity should never be able to get a good job, or maybe any job ever again.

That seems to be the attitude regarding those involved in these recently reported (though mostly long ago) events.  These men are so bad, they can never have a job, any job, ever again.   

This attitude seems to hold that 'dogfighting' is an unforgivable sin.  And the same can be said about child molestation, or sexual activity outside of Marriage, or clergy breaking their vows of celibacy, or not ratting sinners out to the cops.

But what is an unforgivable sin?  Are there sins that God will not forgive?  Is murder unforgivable? or rape? or theft? or perjury, or prostitution.

Jesus says ( Mark 3:29 ):

whoever blasphemes against the holy Spirit* will never have forgiveness, but is guilty of an everlasting sin.” 

This scripture passage is discussed in the Catechism of the Catholic Church (1864):

"Therefore I tell you, every sin and blasphemy will be forgiven men, but the blasphemy against the Spirit will not be forgiven.”

There are no limits to the mercy of God, but anyone who deliberately refuses to accept his mercy by repenting, rejects the forgiveness of his sins and the salvation offered by the Holy Spirit.

Such hardness of heart can lead to final impenitence and eternal loss.

The failure to repent of our sins can lead to final condemnation.

Every other sin is forgivable.  Jesus came into the world to save us poor sinners, and I say Thanks be to God for that.  Mary Magdalen, commonly thought to have been a prostitute, is heralded as a Saint because she repented.  Levi, the Tax collector, is a Saint, likewise.  The good thief is a Saint.  St Augustine, who shacked up with a woman, and fathered a child with her is a Saint.

Is child molestation or the failure to rat people out to the cops a more serious sin than that committed by St Augustine, Mary Magdalen, St Matthew, or even St Peter?

Is that an unforgivable sin?  I certainly don't think that is the case.

There is however, the need for repentance.  Some wrong doing requires serious penance.

George Weigel addresses historical sanctions for gross misbehavior in the Church at National Review Online closing with:

These decisions by Pius XI may seem antiquated and brutal to those who know only post–Vatican II Catholicism. But severe as they were, they were taken in defense of the Church, its evangelical mission, and the discipline essential to that mission. Such decisive measures, and the motivations that prompted them, should be kept in mind by the relevant authorities in Rome these days, as they consider recent revelations about the betrayals and crimes of Cardinal Theodore McCarrick — and as they weigh the grave and ongoing damage to innocent persons, and to the reputation of the Church and its bishops, that those betrayals and crimes have caused.

Sanctions applied do not suggest that the offense is unforgivable, but that penance is due.   And perhaps that is what is necessary, a greater realization of the consequences of sin.

Witness to the Faith or Silence in the Public Square

In a recent post I commented on a movie, A Quiet Place, discussing its' relationship to our culture.  I was reminded then and posted that:

My dad taught me to never make the sign of the cross at public gatherings.  

I gave up that practice several years ago.  Having read some talks and homilies by several people, including Charles Chaput, the archbishop of Philadelphia,  I began praying before meals in restaurants, making the sign of the cross, even as I did at home.

Chaput writes at First Things:

So let’s start with a simple fact: Catholics have never entirely “fit” in America. We’ve tried, but the results are mixed. In fact some years ago Stanley Hauerwas, the distinguished Protestant theologian, said that we Catholics not only don’t fit in America, we also know we don’t fit. And because we know, we’re doubly eager to prove that we’re more American than anybody else.

and:

I think we need to think and act in the same way Augustine did. Our task as believers, whatever our religious tradition, is to witness our love for God and for each other in the time and place God puts us. That means we have duties—first to the City of God, but also to the City of Man. It means working with all our energy to make our nation whole and good, even as we keep our expectations modest, and even when we experience criticism and failure. And finally, it means realizing that none of us can do this work alone.

It now seems as though whether I am with family at someone's home or in some restaurant, I am the only one there who makes the sign of the cross, and the only one who prays before meals.

This is not the case when I am with people from my parish, and I am very grateful for that.

This is the distinction between being a witness in the society and blending in with the society.

George Weigel and Roe v Wade Derangement Syndrome

In a recent post, I drew a comparison between the movies A Quiet Place and World War Z, and our current culture.  This led to pointing out that normal everyday speech can be labeled hate speech.

George Weigel writes at First Things about what he calls Roe v Wade Derangement Syndrome.

He begins by recalling a NY Times column by Barbara Ehrenreich from 1985, and her unique and callous view regarding abortion.  He then proceeds to discuss Ruth Marcus's recent op-ed in the Washington Post discussing the Down syndrome baby and abortion.

He then identifies Roe-v-Wade Derangement Syndrome:

“Not the child I wanted.” There, in a single phrase, is the moral dereliction at the center of Roe v. Wade Derangement Syndrome: If a pregnancy is inconvenient for career purposes, or the child to be born seems unlikely to tick all the boxes of one’s expectations, one makes the choice—“tragic,” as Ms. Marcus admits, or No Big Deal, on the Ehrenreich scale of values—to destroy the indisputably human life one has procreated. 

Weigel closes by discussing a recent Democrat primary election in Illinois, where pro-abortion and NARALPro-Choice America endorsed Maria Newman, said of her opponent Dan Lipinski:

I know what’s in his heart, and it’s called hate. This guy is dangerous. His views are dangerous.

Then Weigel correctly points out:

That is what Roe v. Wade Derangement Syndrome has done to our politics: It’s made it possible to say that what’s in the heart of a mild-mannered gentleman like Dan Lipinski is “hate”—and get away with it. The defense of the indefensible leads to rage, and rage becomes a form of madness.

You should read his article.

A Quiet Place for me

In a recent post  I commented and pointed to three articles about the movie "A Quiet Place" (Bishop Barron, White, and  Scalia).

Since then I have seen the movie, and want to write a few paragraphs about it in light of these other writers.

Bishop Barron, in addition to his previously linked article has a podcast discussing the movie (it runs about 1/2 hr).

White says of a Quiet Place:

there’s an Internet meme positing that the unexceptional horror movie might just be significant

Bishop Barron refers to it as:

 John Krasinski’s new thriller

And Scalia echoes the view of Barron, that the movie is a thriller and not a horror film.  I go with Scalia and Barron on this, and oppose White's take that it is a horror film.

Scalia sees in Barron's write up an allegory involving the silencing of speech.

White writes:

This is especially sad in the case of A Quiet Place, which merely updates the crude manipulation of The Blair Witch Project and never asks audiences to consider the narrative’s themes of procreation and self-defense.

This film has much more in common with World War Z, I am Legend and Warm Bodies, than it has with The Blair Witch Project.

It is a movie about a family living in horrifying and dire times.

Scalia begins with Zuckerberg's testimony about suppressing wrong and unapproved speech (or more accurately, suppressing written words) before it is published.  She then writes:

Preventing hateful speech before it is uttered (or published) creates an illusion of comity—we don’t see the hate anymore, so it must not exist! It still does, though, and—as with our hidden sun—each time it comes out of hiding, the hatred will seem that much more vivid and febrile.

But more importantly than the hate remaining and being very real is the very real possibility that normal speech will be classified as hate speech.

Before the USA passed the hate-crimes legislation, a Catholic Priest in Canada was arrested and charged with hate speech for reading aloud from the Catechism of the Catholic Church.  That should have been a warning to the USA of the dangerous path it was going down, but that warning went unheeded.

The movie, A Quiet Place, shows a family who remains alive, loving and growing in the presence of terrible forces by keeping silent.

This is similar to some descriptions of the Church in times past in this country where Catholics strove to blend in, to be accepted.

My dad taught me to never make the sign of the cross at public gatherings.  I'm pretty sure he learned this while in the army during WWII.  But in our home, and in other family homes we always made the sign of the cross whenever we prayed.

Silence in the face of terrible forces is also the motif in WorldWarZ,  where after only a few seconds following being bitten by a zombie, a person becomes another zombie and starts a crazed assault on healthy non-zombies.

This is very similar to the gay marriage conversion observed all over the western world in the last decade or so.  It is exemplified by the exchange between Sen Booker of NJ and Mike Pompeo at his confirmation hearing for Secretary of State.

Sen Booker is the zombie in a crazed assault on a healthy man trying to get him, and label his speech and attitude as one of hate.  This is what Zuckerberg was talking of suppressing through AI.

The dire and terrible times are upon us.

A Quiet Place is a very good movie and you should see it.

A Quiet Place -- a few posts

Bishop Robert Barron writes at WordOnFire about the movie "A Quiet Place."

I don’t know if I can find the golden thread that draws all of these themes together into a coherent message, but I think one would have to be blind not to see a number of religious motifs in this absorbing film.

In juxtaposition to this, Armond White writes at NRO contrasting "A Quiet Place" with "Jeannette: The Childhood of Joan of Arc."  White much prefers Jeannette, writing of it:

The story of France’s patron saint who was martyred during the Hundred Years’ War is told through the joyful noise of a heavy-metal musical.

He writes of it further:

So when Bunch caught on to A Quiet Place’s nuclear-family theme, he made a considerable point

and

A Quiet Place, which merely updates the crude manipulation of The Blair Witch Project and never asks audiences to consider the narrative’s themes of procreation and self-defense.

Finally, Elizabeth Scalia writes, also at WordOnFire, about A Quiet Place and relates it to the Zuckerberg comments on extinguishing so called Hate Speech.

Stopping difficult, controversial, or “hateful” words before they are uttered or published will ultimately destroy authentic engagement between people. It may leave our feelings unhurt, but the price of insult-free living will be more loneliness, more isolation, not less. 

Then she wraps up by tying into Bishop Barron's article on A Quiet Place

Bishop Robert Barron recently wrote about actor-director John Krasinski’s new thriller, A Quiet Place, calling it the most “unexpectedly religious film of 2018.” He sees numerous religious motifs running through the film, and I suspect he is on the money.

But to me, the story as described sounds a lot like an allegory for a time when all speakers—for that matter, all artists and writers—are expected to exist uncomplainingly within a narrow lane of social conformity, or risk being eaten alive.

Perhaps instead of obsessing about suppressing so called bullying, and Hate Speech, we should teach our children, or in my case should have taught our children, what my parents taught my sisters, my brother and me:

Sticks and stones can break my bones, but names can never hurt me

I Hope you enjoy reading these articles.

Easter: Eight Days a week

When I was young, the Beetles had a popular song entitled Eight Days a Week.  Here's a video of it.

It so happens that the Church celebrates Easter for Eight Days in a row, 8 days a week.  She calls it an Octave.  The Readings from Mass on Next Saturday,  7 April 2018 have a heading which reads:
Saturday in the Octave of Easter.
The Gospel readings for Mass during this week  are full of readings involving Easter Day.  

Monday:

Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went away quickly from the tomb, fearful yet overjoyed, and ran to announce the news to his disciples.

Tuesday:

Mary Magdalene stayed outside the tomb weeping.  And as she wept, she bent over into the tomb and saw two angels in white sitting there, one at the head and one at the feet where the Body of Jesus had been.

Wednesday:

That very day, the first day of the week, two of Jesus' disciples were going to a village seven miles from Jerusalem called Emmaus, and they were conversing about all the things that had occurred.

Thursday

The disciples of Jesus recounted what had taken place along the way, and how they had come to recognize him in the breaking of bread.

While they were still speaking about this, he stood in their midst and said to them, "Peace be with you."

Friday:

Jesus revealed himself again to his disciples at the Sea of Tiberias.  He revealed himself in this way.  Together were Simon Peter, Thomas called Didymus, Nathanael from Cana in Galilee, Zebedee’s sons, and two others of his disciples.

Friday's does not so much deal with Easter Day, but as another post resurrection appearance of Jesus.

Saturday:

When Jesus had risen, early on the first day of the week, he appeared first to Mary Magdalene, out of whom he had driven seven demons.  She went and told his companions who were mourning and weeping.

Sunday:
(The eighth day of Easter)

On the evening of that first day of the week, when the doors were locked, where the disciples were, for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood in their midst and said to them, "Peace be with you."

8 Days a week, I love you.
8 Days a week are not enough to show I care.

Jesus cares for us so very much.  Peter tells us:
Cast all your cares on him, because he cares for you.

Parkland, Gun Control, and fearing the reaper

For about 6 weeks now, there has been unrelenting advocacy for gun control in the main stream media news organizations, following the school shooting in Florida.

Massive news coverage of teenagers saying they are tired of being afraid of gun violence at schools.

In response, I am reminded of a song from many years ago entitled "Don't Fear the Reaper."

It doesn't say what I intend, but the title is appropriate.

The reaper, obviously, is the grim reaper -- death.  Of which these kids are so tired of being afraid.  

This is the shroud that clouds all of mankind - death and the fear of death.  But I've noted elsewhere, nobody gets out alive.  We are all going to die, and you can't live your life consumed with fear that "today may be the day."

My dad always told me you can't let fear control your actions.  It is OK to be afraid, but don't let fear keep you from doing what's right.

St Paul tells us that whether we live or die, we are the Lord's.

The greatest good is to be with Jesus, who died and rose from the dead.  Which is what Holy Week and Easter are all about:  Jesus' passion, death and resurrection.  Those who die in Christ will rise with him to eternal life.

Now St John Paul II, throughout his pontificate, encouraged us always to "be not afraid."  Don't be afraid to let Jesus into your life.  Don't be afraid to follow Jesus in your vocation.  Do not be afraid.

This is not just wishful thinking: just hoping that faith in Jesus will make a difference, or hoping that it will give us consolation.  Faith in Jesus does console us in the face of death, and faith in Jesus gives us hope.  But it does so because it is true.

Jesus, the living bread come down from heaven, the way, the truth and the life, the fullness of God's revelation of himself, and who reveals the fullness of man to man, tells us that it is his desire that we should be with him (where I am, they may also be).  

He endures his passion and death so that we might be with him always.  

In Christ, we live and move and have our being.  Through Baptism we entered into the mystical body of Christ, as through a door.  Where he has gone we hope to follow.  Whether we live or die, we are the Lord's.

So let us not be afraid of death, or gunmen at school.  Christ is with us, and desires that we should be with him in this life and in the life to come.

May this Pascal time draw us ever closer to him.

more while reading "Strangers"

As I mentioned in a previous post, I am reading "Strangers in a Strange Land," by Charles Chaput.  In Chapter 5, Love Among the Eloi, he writes:

Contraceptive intimacy, in contrast, is finally not "intimacy" at all.  It makes every sexual contact a disconnected point in time and an event without a future -- two people using each other as instruments for their own relief.

This strikes me as being extremely similar to a song from 1976 by Bob Seger:  Night Moves.

The lyrics include:

                 I used her, she used me 
                 and neither one cared,
                 we were getting our share 
                 practicing our night moves.

A song that encapsulates a generation's sad attempt at living in this immoral age.

We are called to so much more than "working on our night moves."  We are called to the fullness of joy.  Not a night of passion, a weekend tryst, a short lived coupling of cohabitation.  

No, we are called to an eternity of intimacy with the source of our existence.  A union we do not deserve, and without which we will remain utterly unhappy, and unsatisfied.

If we seek our fulfillment in this world we cannot be satisfied, because God has made us for himself, as St. Augustine tells us.

Let us not work on our "night moves," but on our relationship with the One who loves us more than we love ourselves.

Marana Tha.  Oh Lord, come!

Reflections on the readings from 20 Jan 2018

The readings for today include the antiphon:

Let us see your face, Lord, and we shall be saved.

St John writes:
What was from the beginning,
what we have heard,
what we have seen with our eyes,
what we looked upon and 
touched with our hands concerns the Word of life—

The face of the Lord has been seen.   Symeon saw it and sang:

Now Lord, you can dismiss your servant in peace, for you have fulfilled your word.  My own eyes have witnessed your saving deed, a light to the nations and the glory of your people, Israel.

Mary saw his face, and  washed it, and kissed it.

The advent of the Lord brought our savior to us, and we have been saved. 

Let us see your face Lord, and we shall be saved.

Charles Chaput and Strangers

Charles Chaput, the archbishop of Philadelphia, has published a book entitled "Strangers in a Strange Land."  The title is take off on a Robert Heinlein science fiction novel, "Stranger in a Strange Land."  But Chaput has a subtitle:  Living the Catholic Faith in a Post-Christian World.

Early in Chapter 1 he is writing about the state of our culture, and what we as Christians are to do about it.  He points at the writings of Tocqueville where he writes about the role of religion in democracies.  Chaput writes:

But religion only works its influence on democracy if people really believe what the religion teaches.  Nobody believes in God just because it's socially useful.  To put it in Catholic terms, Christianity is worthless as a leaven in society unless people actually believe in Jesus Christ, follow the Gospel, love the Church, and act like disciples.  If they don't, religion is just another form of self-medication.  And unfortunately, that's how many of us live out our Baptism.

As I read that this morning, I thought it particularly appropriate as today is the feast of the Baptism of the Lord, and we are reminded not only of the Baptism of Jesus, by John, but also of our own Baptism.