Cadets

Fourth Sunday of Lent

    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  Over the past ten or so years, the Michigan State Police has re-vamped its Cadet Program as a way to get young men and women connected to the State Police while still college-aged.  Part of the expectation is that they use the time (for which they get paid) to make sure they are physically fit enough to be admitted to recruit school.  Recently I was present when a few cadets, including our two cadets at the Flint Post, did a baseline assessment of their physical fitness.  They had to do 32 sit-ups and 30 push-ups (each within a minute), do a vertical jump and reach at least 17.5 inches from their vertical arm extension, and do a half-mile shuttle run in 4:29.  Most cadets don’t simply do this physical test cold: they work at surpassing the standard before they take the test.  But if they don’t pass it at first, they have more opportunities before they are accepted to reach the physical standard and hopefully enter the 20-week academy to become a Michigan State Police Trooper.
    Just as the cadets have to keep their eyes on the goal of becoming a Trooper, the Church sets before us today the goal of making it to heaven.  For the gradual today we pray Psalm 121: “I rejoiced when they said to me: let us go to the house of the Lord.”  For the tract we heard Psalm 124: “Those who trust in the Lord are like Mount Zion, that stands forever.”  And we will return to Psalm 121 at the Communion Antiphon, as we hear: “Jerusalem is built as a city, strongly compact.  It is there that the tribes go up, the tribes of the Lord.”  Of course, while the psalmist had the earthly Jerusalem in mind, God, the divine author, had the Jerusalem above in mind.  We rejoice because we go on pilgrimage through life towards heaven.  And when we trust in the Lord, nothing can shake us, because we are like heaven, which endures even as the ages pass.
    St. Paul, in his epistle to the Galatians, also references the Jerusalem above, which is like Isaac, whereas Sinai, the mountain of the law, references the earthly reality.  The Apostle challenges us not simply to look to the rules, but to the freedom that comes from allowing God’s grace to transform us, and the freedom that comes from conforming our wills to God’s.  During our Lenten pilgrimage, we do well to keep this in mind.  Our goal should not just be not eating meat on Fridays, or certain extra prayers, or generosity to the Church and the poor through almsgiving.  Those practices, like the law, do not save in and of themselves.  But when we utilize those penitential practices to live a life more like Christ, that is, allowing those practices to put to death in us anything that does not come from God, we gain freedom because we live as God created us: in accordance with His will.
    It can be so easy to keep the law mentality that St. Paul critiques in the epistle.  We set out penances for ourselves and presume that they will save us.  We take on a Pelagian mentality that we earn our salvation by the good works we do, and God simply approves of our struggle and rewards us for it.  But our penitential practices, like the law, does not save.  Christ saves us; we do not save ourselves.  But we follow God’s eternal law and we chastise ourselves with Lenten practices in order to discipline our flesh and realize that all too often we live more like an animal, by instinct and drive, than like a child of God, living by following the will of God and the higher ends of the spiritual realm.  
    We don’t teach, like the Manichaeans, that the body is evil, but we do know that it operates under the weight of sin and concupiscence, and desires things we should not desire, or desires things at inopportune times.  We strive to live, not just by bread, but by the Word of God.  We pray because we need communion with the Father to ignore the temptations of the devil.  We give alms because generosity with others, especially those who will not return payment, makes us more like our heavenly Father who makes the sun shine on the good and the bad, and makes the rain fall on the just and the unjust.  

    And just like the cadets not only have to work out to be able to do their push-ups, sit-ups, and run, but also have to eat well to stay in shape, we hear the miracle of the multiplication of the loaves and fish in today’s Gospel, which starts out the famous Bread of Life discourse, which is St. John’s treatment of the Eucharist (rather than the synoptic Gospels which focus on the Eucharist at the Last Supper).  The Eucharist is the spiritual food that we need, not only to help us during our Lenten penances, but also to help us on our pilgrimage to heaven.  When we receive Holy Communion in a state of grace, God strengthens our souls to more easily choose the good and reject the bad.  He gives us the Body and Blood of His Son, Jesus Christ, to transform us and make His will our own more and more.  
    We are all cadets, not striving to be Michigan State Police Troopers, but striving to be the saints that God called us to be in Holy Baptism.  To do that, we have to keep our mind on our heavenly goal, and eat the right spiritual food that will strengthen us towards our divinely-appointed end.  May our Lenten practices and our worthy reception of Holy Communion keep us in good spiritual shape so that we can appear, without trepidation and with a clear conscience, at the judgement seat of our Lord Jesus Christ, who with the Father and the Holy Spirit lives and reigns for ever and ever.  Amen.   

Tempting

Ninth Sunday after Pentecost-Commemoration of St. Lawrence

    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  St. Theresa of Calcutta, aka Mother Theresa, famously once said, “I know God will not give me anything I can’t handle.  I just wish he didn’t trust me so much.”  Given that this is also the feast of St. Lawrence, who is commemorated today, this seems fitting as both this comment and St. Lawrence’s famous quote while being burned alive on a grill (“Turn me over, I’m done on this side,”) can elicit a chuckle.
    But when we’re in the midst of temptations, it doesn’t seem so funny.  And today’s words from St. Paul, that God does not test us beyond our strength, may not seems funny or may seem discouraging.  Temptations, which, by the way, are not sins in themselves, can sometimes seem overwhelming that clamor for our attention like a petulant child.  It’s one thing when it’s just that draw to say something about another and we catch ourselves before we actually say anything.  It’s another when that temptation just seems to take all our attention and won’t let us go.  
    There are different approaches to try to fight temptation.  Many saints of course will recommend turning to prayer when you are being tempted.  And for some people and for some temptations that can work really well.  Pious phrases like, “Jesus, deliver me!” can help us focus away from that which tempts us and calls upon divine assistance to open us up to the grace that will keep us from giving in to that temptation and committing a sin.
    For some people and some temptations, prayer doesn’t seem to work as well.  I think this can certainly be true with sins of the flesh.  Many people when facing a sexual temptation find it difficult to focus on anything else, even just being able to say a quick prayer.  St. Francis of Assisi famously jumped naked into a rose bush to fight temptation (though some say it was to fight discouragement, not sexual sins), and that rose bush no longer has thorns.
    But no matter what the temptation and how we fight it, it may seem odd that we even have to undergo temptation.  I mean, isn’t original sin washed away in Holy Baptism?  So why, to paraphrase St. Paul, do we not do the good we want to do, and we do the evil that we don’t want to do?  Why would a loving God allow us to have to choose between Him and sin more than just once in our life?
    While Holy Baptism does wash away original sin, that original disobedience that was passed down to us from Adam and Eve from their choice against God, we are still left with concupiscence, or a disordered affection for that which is contrary to God.  Concupiscence is not a sin in itself, but is the fomes peccati, or the tinder or fuel for sin (and the dating app Tinder is often a fuel for sin).  
    But concupiscence is part and parcel of a system where we have free will.  Our proper use of free will allows us to choose the good.  But baked within that free will is the ability to use free will poorly and choose the bad.  But we can’t love without free will, which is the main desire of God: that we love Him and grow in our relationship with Him so that He can configure us more and more to Himself.  God does not want us to fall to sin, but He also loves us enough to allow us to exist in a system that allows us to love Him, but also allows us not to love Him.

Church of Dominus Flevit, where Christ wept over Jerusalem

    And as we look to the Gospel, as we look to Christ weeping over the city of Jerusalem, we see Him weeping over the misuse of that free will.  The Chosen People had been prepared as best as God could to welcome the Messiah who was not simply a human leader of the Jews but the very Son of God Himself.  While He worked many miracles to back up His claim that He was God, many, in the end, would not accept that revelation, which would lead to the very destruction of the Holy City itself.  
    And we are more important even than the City of David.  Yet God demonstrates His love for us time and time again, just like He revealed His divinity.  In the midst of our temptations God never abandons us or leaves us to temptation.  In fact, the Church teaches us that God always gives us sufficient grace, the grace we need to respond to His will and avoid all mortal sin.  But we do have to accept that grace.  Grace never forces itself upon another.
    Part of our response should be to avoid what we often call the near occasion of sin.  If we know that we are tempted in certain circumstances, we should do our best, whenever possible, to avoid those circumstances.  It should be no surprise that when an alcoholic goes to a bar, he or she is more likely to have a drink.  The alcoholic can’t really complain that temptation is so hard to fight when he or she goes to a place where the temptation is readily present.  Or, if a young man and a young woman who are dating go into a bedroom when no one else is home and sit on the bed, it’s not so surprising if they end up giving into grave sexual sins because they put themselves in a near occasion of sin.  They not only have the kindling for the fire of sin, they brought a butane lighter and poured lighter fuel on the kindling.  
    With other sins like judgement, we cannot always avoid other people who tend to upset us or make us want to judge them, but do we have the foresight to pray before we get into that situation, or maybe even just finger the beads of the rosary that we keep in our pocket to help us remember to whom we belong and what He wants for us to thrive spiritually.
    In order for us to love God as He wants us to love Him and in return for His love for God, God does trust us to choose the good in a situation where good and bad are two different options for us.  God does trust us to choose Him even when sometimes we find that very difficult.  May we lean into the grace of God that helps us to fight temptation and avoid sin, and so come to enjoy the bliss that St. Theresa won by her charity to the poor and St. Lawrence won by the shedding of His blood for Christ, who with the Father and the Holy Spirit live and reign for ever and ever.  Amen. 

Cars and Jerusalem

Ninth Sunday after Pentecost
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  While this is my eighth year living in Vehicle City, I will admit that I’m not a car guy.  That is to say, I don’t get cars and how they work.  I know how to use them, but if I were to pop the hood, I wouldn’t know how everything is supposed to work together.  I know there are things like spark plugs, carburetors, belts, fans, etc., but how they are all supposed work together is beyond me.  My grandfather, who worked tool and die at Fisher Body in Lansing for most of his adult life, probably would just shake his head at my ignorance, if he were alive today.
    But when we don’t understand how something is supposed to go together or function properly, we can easily miss when something is amiss.  We might have a sense that something is wrong (is my car supposed to sound like that?), but we couldn’t really tell you if something was really wrong, or what it might be.  

Church of Dominus Flevit

   That’s sort of what Christ bemoans in the Gospel today.  This is the time when the Lord weeps over Jerusalem because she does not realize the time of His visitation, the presence of the long-awaited Messiah, the Prince of Peace.  There is a beautiful church just outside the old city of Jerusalem called Dominus Flevit, Latin for the Lord Wept, that recalls this Gospel passage and could have been the place where the Lord wept over Jerusalem, because you can see much of the old city from this elevated point outside.  There is a chapel that has an iron grate, which stands between the viewer and the old city, and the grate has both a chalice with a host, as well as a cross seemingly overlaid over the landscape of modern Jerusalem.  
    Jerusalem had a particular destiny, as the king’s city, to welcome the Messiah when he came.  But because of the hardness of their hearts, most did not recognize the Lord as their long-awaited Messiah, and they missed the opportunity to welcome the Prince of Peace into His city.  So, because Jerusalem rejected peace, the Redeemer prophesied that war would come the city and stone would not be left upon stone, a prophecy that was fulfilled some forty years later when the Romans sacked Jerusalem and destroyed the ancient city, and took away many of the treasures that were there.
    We, too, are meant to recognize the Messiah when He comes.  Of course, we recognize that Jesus is the Messiah, the Christ, as far as the macro scale goes.  We know we’re not waiting for His first advent, but His second advent, His return in glory.  But do we recognize His third advent, how he comes to us each day, month, and year?  Do we recognize what God is trying to do in our life?
    If we don’t, we might still arrive at the destination the Lord desires for us: heaven.  But it will be much harder than it has to be.  A blind man may reach his destination by wandering around and bumping into obstacles.  But it helps if he has a guide to make sure he doesn’t fall into holes, or lose his sense of direction and start walking towards a destination he doesn’t desire.  So, too, for our salvation: if we are not attentive to God, we might still make our way to Him.  But it will be much easier and less dangerous if we attend to how God communicates.  How does God communicate?
    First, we can look to the Scriptures.  St. Jerome famously said, “Ignorance of Scripture is ignorance of Christ.”  By reading the Bible, whether as a whole or in a guided Bible study or at least the more prosaic parts (I know the genealogies of the Old Testament can be tough to get through), we come to see how God works.  We see His special love for the poor, the widow, and the orphan.  We see how He often chooses those whom the world considers losers or worthless to accomplish His mighty deeds.  We see how He calls people to follow His will, and gently (and sometimes not-so-gently) reminds them to come back if they have wandered away.  
    Secondly, we can look to the Church.  The Church takes all the Scriptures and reads it in the light of Christ and salvation.  Our Holy Mother Church teaches us what we need to know about how to be saved, which is really just teaching us how to follow Christ.  She helps us to recognize, through saints and reflection on God’s revelation, how God is working, and how His voice sounds, as opposed to the voice of the world, which can often sound more enticing.
    Thirdly, we can look to prayer.  A daily habit of prayer doesn’t meant that life will go smoothly for us.  But it does mean that through the ups and downs of life, we can better see what God is doing because we’re asking Him on a regular basis, “What are you doing, Lord?”  In prayer we should take time to bring our joys and sorrows, our understanding and our questions to God.  But we should also make time to listen, silencing our minds as best we can to allow God to speak to us and enlighten us with His plan, which, as God said to the prophet Samuel, is not always what we would do.  
    When we come to know God’s will, we can have peace.  Not simply a peace that means we are not struggling, but a peace knowing how the struggle will work out, or at least that it will in some way work out in a way that God has directed for our salvation and the salvation of the world.  The saints show us this peace time and time again, even in the midst of violent persecutions, because they know that whatever God allows will somehow give us the opportunity to grow closer to Him, even to the point of shedding our blood, if necessary.
    Throughout life, we might not understand how everything fits together and works out.  It might seem as foreign to you as the inner workings of a car seems to me.  But if we are attentive to Christ’s presence in our life and in the world, we are more likely to understand, and cooperate with God’s will, rather than working to frustrate it or simply wandering around in the dark.  Lord, through your word in the Scriptures, through your Bride, the Church, and through our daily commitment to prayer, help us to know your will, to love your will, and to embrace your will.  In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

Speaking of Segue

Ninth Sunday after Pentecost
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  In conversation, there are times where you really want to talk about something, but it’s not really part of the conversation at that time.  So you just wait for some word that bears some tangential connection to the point that you want to make, and then pounce and try to steer the discussion to the topic you desire.  Or, if the conversation is not going well, or going in the wrong direction, I will sometimes use the cheeky phrase, “Speaking of segue…”

    Last Tuesday I attended the episcopal consecration of Bishop Edward Lohse, the fifth bishop of Kalamazoo.  Archbishop Vigneron, the metropolitan of the Province of Michigan, gave the homily.  And he said something that I wanted to preach on here, but I didn’t know if it would fit with the readings.  The phrase was, “You are no poorer than Jerusalem at the beginning.”  So, when I came, as I prepared my homily, upon the words, “when Jesus drew near to Jerusalem,” I was so excited!
    So, speaking of Jerusalem, speaking of segue, I would like to draw us deeper into these words of Archbishop Vigneron.  He was speaking, of course, of God providing a shepherd to the Church in Kalamazoo, and how Christ pours out all necessary gifts for every local church, just as He sent the Holy Spirit to the Apostles and disciples gathered at Pentecost. 
    But the same applies to us, even without consecrating a new bishop today.  We are no poorer than Jerusalem at the beginning.  We have all the gifts that God gave to His nascent Church in that Upper Room fifty days after Easter.  We lack nothing of what it means to be a true church, an 𝜀𝜅𝜅𝜆𝜂𝜎𝜄𝛼, a people “called out” (𝜀𝜉 𝜅𝛼𝜆𝜀𝜊) of darkness into the light of Christ.
    What are the necessary aspects of being a Church?  First, it is that we are founded by Jesus Christ, and faithful to what He taught.  All other religions in the world are about man seeking out God.  Judaism, and its fulfillment in Christianity, is about God seeking us out.  We don’t make up teachings because we think they make sense to us.  We read and ponder the revelation of God, given to us through the Scriptures, and interpret it through the authentic teaching of the bishops in union with the pope.  We cannot contradict what Christ taught or what Christ did.  We do not refrain from ordaining women priests because we hate women.  Indeed, the holiest person ever is a woman, the Blessed Virgin Mary.  But Christ did not ordain her a priestess, nor anyone else.  It was only to the Apostles that He gave the sacred office.  We do not use rice and rice wine in Asia because we reject those staple food and drink of another culture.  We use bread and wine because that is what Christ Himself used.  We are not the masters of theology, but the servants of preserving it, even as we delve deeper and come to understand it more fully. 
    Even our Protestant brothers and sisters, who are united to us in baptism, while they can point to Christ, cannot claim that their ecclesial communities (things which look like churches but are not, strictly speaking, churches) were founded by Christ.  They were founded by Luther, Calvin, Zwingli, the Wesley brothers, etc.  It strikes me that so many of the communities founded on sola scriptura are now divided because at least some in their official governance bodies want to walk away from Scripture because it is no longer fashionable, or seems, to the modern person, discriminatory.  To be a church, we must be founded by Christ and be rooted in what He has revealed.
    To be a church, we need to have all seven sacraments, all the major vehicles of sanctifying grace, that God has given us to become saints.  We share baptism with most of the Protestant denominations (I say most, because some have messed with the necessary words that effect validity).  But we also have six other ways that God makes us holy: the Sacraments of Penance, Eucharist, Confirmation, Holy Matrimony, Holy Order, and Anointing of the Sick.  God  takes these ordinary elements (water, oil, bread & wine, voice, consent, the laying on of hands) and makes them a way that His life is given to us, in a way that sitting in nature, or watching a religious movie never could.  The sacraments, which not only remind us of Christ but actually cause His life to increase in us, help us to develop in our relationship with Him, and then share that relationship with the world. 
    To be a church, we finally need connected to the Apostles.  We are truly an apostolic church, because our bishops can trace themselves back to the college of bishops at Pentecost, with Peter as their head.  Our Lord founded His Church in a particular way, such that those who listened to His Apostles listened to Him.  We mention their names at every Mass (in this form) in the Roman Canon: Peter and Paul, Andrew, James, John, Thomas, James, Philip, Bartholomew, Matthew, Simon and Jude (and Matthias gets mentioned later in the Canon).  And even every post-Conciliar Eucharistic prayer mentions the Apostles.  Those Apostles laid hands on their successors, giving them the Holy Spirit to continue their work and their connection to Christ. 

   At Pentecost, even in seminal form, all these things were present: right belief; seven sacraments; apostolic foundation.  And we retain all those elements.  And those elements allow us, clergy and lay faithful, to proclaim the Gospel, just as the Apostles and disciples did at Pentecost, leading to the conversion of many peoples.
    It seems like every one to two months, Amanda, our Director of Faith Formation, is telling me about another person who wants to become Catholic.  Some have never been baptized; some have been baptized in other ecclesial communities.  And we don’t just “make them Catholic” and never see them again.  They continue to participate in the life of this parish community.
    We are proud of our two young men, Joseph and Glen, who have heard the call to become priests and will continue to discern that call in seminary.  You strongly participate, whether at home with your families, or in our different formational groups and classes, in growing in your faith and deepening not just your knowledge of facts about the Lord, but your knowledge and love of Him, a real Person who lives.
    We don’t have money for fancy programs.  In many ways our parish, in both ways that the Mass is celebrated, is not culturally up-to-date or cutting edge.  We are certainly not the largest parish in Genesee County, not by a long shot.  But I would argue that we’re doing something right, because we do continue to bring people into relationship with Christ.  How?  Because we are no poorer than Jerusalem.  God has given us everything we need to proclaim His Gospel: fidelity to the teachings of Christ; the sacramental life of the Church; apostolic foundations and succession.  As long as we have that, we will continue to draw others to the truth and beauty that are part and parcel of our Catholic faith, founded by Jesus Christ, who with the Father and the Holy Spirit is God, for ever and ever.  Amen.  

People of the Empty Tomb

The Resurrection of the Lord—Easter Sunday

There I was, standing in line to go into the aediculum, the structure which is built over the tomb of Jesus in the Church of the Holy Sepulcher in Jerusalem.  I don’t know what I was expecting to see, but I know that I was getting more and more excited just to go inside and see whatever it was that was in there.  I had been waiting in line for a while with all the other pilgrims who wanted to see the place where Jesus had been buried.  Finally, it was my turn.  I ducked down to walk inside the structure.  I waited in a very small ante-chamber for the group of four people ahead of me to leave.  And then I went in, and guess what I saw?  Nothing!

Now sure, there were candles and icons, but it was an empty tomb!  Jesus was not there.  I saw almost the same thing that Peter and John saw when they arrived at the tomb: nothing.  They saw Jesus’ burial cloths, but other than that, they saw nothing.  I wasn’t expecting to see Jesus’ Body there, but still I think I did expect to see something amazing.  Instead, it was not very ornate: just a few icons of the Resurrection and a few candles burning.

We should be people who expect to see nothing.  Our faith centers around going to a certain place to see nothing.  As believers in the Resurrection, we are believers in not seeing what we should have seen: a corpse of a 33-year-old Jewish man.  Instead, just as Mary of Magdala told Peter and John, and just as Peter and John told the other apostles and disciples in the Upper Room, there was nothing there.  We are the people who rely on the eyewitness testimony of at least four or five people that the tomb is empty.  We are also the people who rely on the eyewitness testimony of the apostles and disciples who not only saw or heard about an empty tomb, but saw the risen Jesus.  

We are the people about whom St. Peter spoke in the first reading: the people who must rely on the witnesses chosen by God in advance, the witnesses who ate and drank with Jesus after He rose from the dead.  We are the ones who received the good news from our parents, who received it from theirs, who received it from theirs, all the way back to eleven, mostly uneducated, men, who told our ancestors that they saw Jesus risen from dead and that if we want that new life, then we, too, must be baptized for the forgiveness of sins and believe in Jesus and follow Him and His rule of life.

Because Christianity has become so common, we often forget the power of the message that there is new life after death.  We forget what force that proclamation has.  But to the first believers it was incredible–literally unbelievable.  How could a man rise from the dead?  But the story was too consistent.  The uneducated fishermen, tax collector, and rag tag bunch of men had too convincing of arguments.  And they were willing to die for that message.  Certainly if they had made it up, they would have recanted as they were about to be skinned alive, crucified, or beheaded.  But they didn’t.  They were joyful, even feeling unworthy to die in a manner like their Lord, and “love for life did not deter them from death.”  Those who believed the apostles also put up with horrible pain and torture; even though they had never seen Jesus.  They just trusted the words of these men.  They were nailed to posts, doused with oil, and lit on fire to illumine the Roman evening.  They were fed to wild beasts, maimed, tortured, and mocked.  But the power of the testimony of those witnesses was strong enough to give them no fear over those who could harm the body but not the soul.  They believed the story of the empty tomb.  Do we?

To believe in the empty tomb, the empty tomb that I saw with my own two eyes, is to fear nothing but to be separated from God.  To believe in the empty tomb is to be impelled, drawn, summoned to proclaim it to others.  To believe in the empty tomb is not simply to believe in a negative, a lack of something, but to believe that the tomb is empty because Jesus is not dead, but alive, and that when Christ returns to show Himself to those who believed in the words of His witnesses, they, too, “will appear with him in glory.”

When was the last time we lived as if we believed in the empty tomb?  When was the last time we lived not worrying about those who can harm our prosperity, but focusing on the one who saved our soul?  That belief is not meant to eliminate all the suffering in our life, but to help us to realize that suffering is not the end unless we want it to be.  And then it only is the end for us because we would rather have the suffering we know than the heavenly bliss that we have to take on the words of eleven uneducated men.  

Believers in the empty tomb still struggle to make a living; still get sick; still watch their loved ones struggle with pain and even death.  But believers in the empty tomb can at the same time know that for those united to Christ in baptism, they have already died with Him, and should rise with Him, too.  

I have been to the tomb in Jerusalem.  I have seen the candles and the icons.  I have seen the emptiness which means that the Resurrection is real.  I still struggle to live each day as a believer in the empty tomb, giving proof that I do not fear what the world may throw at me because I belong to Christ and Christ belongs to God the Father, and the Father cares for those who are His own.  Maybe you struggle to live that way, too.  But today, let us reaffirm our faith in the empty tomb so that we can live like the eleven whose lives were changed by the Resurrection, and who changed others’ lives by the Resurrection.  Today, as the first of many days, let us live as people of the empty tomb with zeal for the kingdom and confidence that God will take care of us in all circumstances, just as He took care of Jesus, His Beloved Son, in raising Him from the dead.