Choosing Christ Above All Else (Year A 13th Sunday)

 

Homily on Matthew 10:37–42

"Choosing Christ Above All Else"

My brothers and sisters in Christ,

Today's Gospel is one of the most challenging passages in all of Sacred Scripture.

Jesus says:

"Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me."

At first hearing, these words may make us uncomfortable.

After all, doesn't the Fourth Commandment tell us to honor our father and mother? Doesn't Jesus command us to love one another?

So what is Jesus saying?

He is not asking us to love our families less.

He is asking us to love Him first.

Because when Christ is first, we become better husbands, better wives, better parents, better grandparents, and better friends.

When God occupies the center of our lives, everything else falls into its proper place.

There is a story told about a young husband and father who worked long hours to provide for his family.

He loved his wife and children deeply. He rarely missed a soccer game, attended every school event, and worked tirelessly to give them a good life.

One evening his young daughter asked him, "Daddy, why don't you come to church with us anymore?"

He replied, "Honey, I'm working hard for all of you. Everything I do is for this family."

His daughter quietly answered, "Dad, I know you love us. But Mom says God gave us you to help us get to heaven."

Those words pierced his heart.

He realized that in trying to provide everything for his family, he had neglected the One who had given him his family in the first place.

He had made a good thing—his family—into the ultimate thing.

And only God can be ultimate.

Years later, that man would say that returning to Christ and returning to Mass was the greatest gift he ever gave his family.

My brothers and sisters, that story reminds us that our greatest responsibility is not simply to make a living, but to help one another reach eternal life.

And that is exactly what Jesus is teaching us today.

Jesus says:

"Whoever does not take up his cross and follow after me is not worthy of me."

Notice that Jesus does not say if a cross comes.

He says take up your cross.

Every disciple has one.

For some, it is illness.

For others, it is loneliness.

For some, it is caring for an aging spouse or parent.

For others, it is financial stress, family conflict, addiction, or grief.

The Christian life has never been about avoiding crosses.

It has always been about carrying them with Jesus.

Because a cross carried with Christ becomes the path to resurrection.

But if we're honest, many of us spend our lives trying to avoid crosses rather than embrace them.

And Jesus addresses that tendency directly.

Jesus says:

"Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it."

The world tells us:

"Look out for yourself."

"Make yourself happy."

"Do whatever feels good."

"Live for yourself."

Jesus says something radically different:

"Give yourself away."

True joy is not found in self-preservation.

It is found in self-giving.

Ask any loving parent or grandparent.

The greatest moments in life are often the sacrifices we make for those we love.

The sleepless nights with a newborn.

The years spent caring for an aging parent.

The sacrifices made for children and grandchildren.

Love always costs something.

And the deeper the love, the greater the sacrifice.

Jesus Himself proved that on Calvary.

Men, fathers, grandfathers, husbands—this Gospel speaks directly to you.

The world often tells men that success is measured by money, status, or achievements.

But Christ measures greatness differently.

Great men are men who sacrifice.

Great fathers lead their families to God.

Great husbands love their wives as Christ loves the Church.

Your children will probably forget many of the gifts you bought them.

But they will never forget seeing you pray.

They will never forget seeing you kneel at Mass.

They will never forget seeing you ask forgiveness when you were wrong.

They will never forget your example.

One of the greatest gifts a man can give his family is his faith.

And women, mothers, and grandmothers have an extraordinary role as well.

Many women are the spiritual heart of their families.

You pray.

You encourage.

You sacrifice.

You worry.

You carry children and grandchildren in your hearts every day.

Never underestimate the power of your witness.

Think of St. Monica, whose persistent prayers helped bring about the conversion of her son Augustine.

Many of you are praying for children who no longer practice the faith.

Do not give up.

Keep praying.

Keep loving.

Keep trusting.

God hears every prayer.

The Gospel concludes with what seems like a very small gesture.

Jesus says:

"Whoever gives only a cup of cold water to one of these little ones because he is a disciple... will surely not lose his reward."

What a beautiful promise.

Jesus notices everything.

No act of love is too small.

A phone call.

A kind word.

A meal brought to someone who is sick.

A visit to the lonely.

A prayer offered quietly for another.

A grandparent teaching a child the Sign of the Cross.

These small acts may seem insignificant.

But in God's Kingdom, small acts done with great love change the world.

My brothers and sisters, today's Gospel invites us to ask three important questions:

Is Christ truly first in my life?

What cross is Jesus asking me to carry with Him?

How can I show Christ's love through small acts of kindness this week?

When we place Jesus first, everything else begins to make sense.

Our families become stronger.

Our sacrifices gain meaning.

Our crosses become bearable.

And our lives become a witness to the world.

May we have the courage this week to choose Christ above all else, to carry our crosses faithfully, and to love generously.

For whoever loses his life for Christ will discover the life he has always been searching for.

Amen.

The Wheat, the Weeds, and the Patient Heart of God (16th Sunday Ordinary Time Year A)

 

My brothers and sisters in Christ,

Today's Gospel from Matthew chapter 13 is one of the most realistic and hopeful teachings Jesus ever gives us.

In just a few short parables, Jesus speaks about good and evil, patience, judgment, faith, and the mysterious way God works in our lives.

He tells us about wheat and weeds growing together in the same field, about a tiny mustard seed that becomes a great tree, and about yeast that quietly transforms an entire batch of dough.

At first, these parables may seem unrelated. But together they reveal a powerful truth: God is always at work, even when we cannot see it.

And that is good news, because many of us come here today carrying burdens, disappointments, worries, and questions.

"Lord, where are You in all of this?"

Today's Gospel answers that question.

Jesus begins by telling us about a farmer who sows good seed in his field. But while everyone is asleep, an enemy comes and sows weeds among the wheat.

When the servants discover the weeds, they are shocked.

"Master, did you not sow good seed in your field? Where have the weeds come from?"

If we're honest, that question sounds very familiar.

"Lord, if You are good, why is there suffering?"

"Why are there divisions in families?"

"Why do good people get sick?"

"Why are there wars, addictions, and broken relationships?"

"Why do I still struggle with the same sins after all these years?"

Jesus answers simply:

"An enemy has done this."

Evil is real. Sin is real. Satan is real.

Jesus never pretends otherwise.

But then something surprising happens.

The servants immediately want to fix the problem.

"Do you want us to pull up the weeds?"

The Master says:

"No, because in pulling up the weeds you may uproot the wheat along with them. Let them grow together until harvest."

And that response may leave us uncomfortable because, if we're honest, most of us prefer immediate solutions.

We want God to act now. We want problems solved today. We want difficult people changed tomorrow.

Yet Jesus reminds us that God's timetable is often different from ours.

And perhaps nowhere is that lesson clearer than in the following story.

Several years ago, a man inherited his father's ranch. His father had lovingly cared for the property for decades, planting trees, flowers, and native plants throughout the land.

The son wanted to honor his father's memory, so he took over caring for the property himself.

One spring he noticed patches of scraggly plants scattered throughout the fields. They looked ugly and out of place.

Determined to clean everything up, he spent an entire weekend pulling them out.

A few months later an elderly neighbor stopped by.

"How's the ranch doing?" he asked.

"Proudly," the son replied, "I finally got rid of all those weeds Dad left behind."

The old neighbor's face fell.

"Son," he said quietly, "those weren't weeds. Your father planted those wildflowers years ago. They bloom late in the summer."

The son had removed some of the most beautiful flowers on the ranch because he judged too quickly.

My brothers and sisters, isn't that often true in our own lives?

How often do we look at people—or even ourselves—and assume that God has finished His work?

How often do we write people off?

The rebellious teenager.

The struggling spouse.

The person battling addiction.

The family member who has drifted away from the Church.

The person who hurt us years ago.

The truth is that God sees what we cannot see.

We see the present.

God sees the future.

We see weakness.

God sees possibility.

We see failure.

God sees redemption.

Think of St. Augustine. For years he lived far from God. Many probably thought he was hopeless.

But through the persistent prayers of his mother, St. Monica, God's grace transformed him into one of the greatest saints in the history of the Church.

God specializes in late bloomers.

 

But before we become too focused on the weeds in other people's lives, today's Gospel gently invites us to look inward.

Because the field Jesus describes is not only the world.

It is also our own hearts.

If we are honest, each one of us is both wheat and weeds.

There is goodness within us because we are created in God's image.

But there are weeds too.

Pride.

Resentment.

Fear.

Impatience.

Anger.

Jealousy.

Old wounds.

Unforgiveness.

Perhaps some of us came to Mass today discouraged because we continue struggling with the same weaknesses.

We may wonder:

"Lord, why haven't You taken this away?"

Perhaps because God is less interested in quick fixes and more interested in transformation.

God is patient.

He works slowly.

He shapes saints over years, sometimes decades.

And that patience of God is especially important for many men to hear today.

Men, fathers, grandfathers, husbands—many of you carry burdens silently.

You may look back over your life and think:

"I should have been a better husband."

"I wish I had spent more time with my children."

"I've made too many mistakes."

Today's Gospel offers hope.

God has not given up on you.

As long as you are breathing, God is still cultivating your heart.

The enemy whispers:

"You're finished."

Jesus says:

"I'm not finished with you yet."

And many women carry a different, but equally heavy burden.

Mothers, grandmothers, wives, daughters—you often carry families in prayer.

Many of you pray every day for children who no longer practice the faith, for struggling marriages, or for loved ones who seem far from God.

Do not lose heart.

Remember St. Monica.

For seventeen years she prayed and wept for Augustine.

God heard every prayer.

Keep praying.

Keep loving.

Keep trusting.

God is still working beneath the surface.

And that brings us beautifully to the next two parables Jesus gives us.

Because after speaking about patience, Jesus now speaks about growth.

Jesus tells us that the Kingdom of Heaven is like a mustard seed—the smallest of seeds that eventually becomes a great tree.

He says it is also like yeast, hidden in flour, quietly transforming everything from within.

In other words, God's work is often hidden.

Most spiritual growth happens quietly.

A daily Rosary.

A visit to the Blessed Sacrament.

A sincere confession.

A father blessing his children before bed.

A grandmother teaching her grandchildren to pray.

A simple act of kindness.

Small acts of faith, repeated over time, change lives.

The saints changed the world not through spectacular moments, but through daily fidelity.

So where does all of this leave us?

It leaves us with a choice.

Will we trust the Divine Farmer?

Will we trust that God is still at work—even in situations that seem hopeless?

My brothers and sisters, today's Gospel teaches us three important truths:

First, evil is real, but God remains in control.

Second, God is patient with us and asks us to be patient with others.

And third, even the smallest act of faith can bear extraordinary fruit.

This week, instead of focusing on the weeds in others, let us invite Jesus to tend the soil of our own hearts.

And let us remember:

The Divine Farmer never abandons His field.

He is still working.

He is still planting.

He is still healing.

And He is certainly not finished with any of us yet.

Fatherhood through God's Eyes (Year A 12th Sunday and Father's Day)

 

One of the most memorable moments of my childhood happened when I was about eight years old.

My father and I were walking together after dark.

We were crossing an area with no streetlights, and at some point I became frightened.

I couldn't see very far ahead, and every shadow seemed bigger than it really was.

My dad reached down, took my hand, and said, "Don't worry. I'm right here."

Nothing about the darkness changed.

The shadows were still there.

The path was still dark.

But somehow everything felt different because my father was with me.

I think many of us know that feeling.

There is something powerful about the presence of a good father.

Not a perfect father.

A good father.

A father who shows up.

A father who stays.

A father who says, "I'm right here."

And that is exactly what Jesus is speaking about in today's Gospel.

Three times in this short passage Jesus tells His disciples not to be afraid.

"Do not be afraid."

"Do not be afraid."

"Do not be afraid."

Why?

Because God is not distant.

God is not absent.

God is not indifferent.

Jesus tells us that not even a sparrow falls to the ground without the Father's knowledge.

Even the hairs on your head have been counted.

God knows you.

God sees you.

God loves you.

The image Jesus gives us is not of a king looking down from a distant throne.

The image is of a Father.

A Father who pays attention.

A Father who notices.

A Father who cares.

And that is why Father's Day can be so beautiful—and also so complicated.

For some people, Father's Day brings joy.

For others, it brings grief.

Some are blessed with wonderful memories.

Others carry painful memories.

Some fathers are here today surrounded by children and grandchildren.

Others have lost children.

Some children have lost fathers.

Some fathers are divorced and wonder if they have failed.

Some men longed to be fathers but never had children.

Some carry wounds from fathers who were absent, angry, addicted, or simply unable to give what they themselves never received.

So today we honor fathers, but we do so with humility and honesty.

Because the truth is that most fathers are not superheroes.

Most fathers are simply men trying to do the best they can.

Trying to provide.

Trying to protect.

Trying to lead.

Trying to love.

Trying to figure it out one day at a time.

And sometimes they succeed beautifully.

Sometimes they stumble.

Just like the rest of us.

I think one of the greatest lies in our culture is that fathers don't matter.

The statistics tell a different story.

Children need mothers.

Children need fathers.

Families need fathers.

Society needs fathers.

And the Church needs fathers.

A father's presence communicates something words alone cannot.

It tells a child:

"You are valuable."

"You are safe."

"You are not alone."

"You are worth fighting for."

Isn't that exactly what God the Father says to each one of us?

Jesus says today, "You are worth more than many sparrows."

Imagine hearing those words from your father.

Imagine hearing them from God.

The world constantly tells people they must earn their value.

God says your value comes from being His beloved child.

That is one of the greatest gifts a father can give—to help his children understand who they are.

Not what they achieve.

Not how much money they make.

Not how successful they become.

But who they are.

Beloved sons and daughters of God.

And fathers, that may be your most important job.

More important than paying bills.

More important than coaching Little League.

More important than fixing things around the house.

Your greatest responsibility is helping your children get to Heaven.

That doesn't require perfection.

It requires faithfulness.

Children don't need perfect fathers.

They need fathers who pray.

Fathers who apologize when they're wrong.

Fathers who come to Mass.

Fathers who love their wives.

Fathers who keep showing up.

Fathers who get back up when they fall.

In other words, children need fathers who are disciples.

The Gospel today also speaks directly to courage.

Jesus says:

"Everyone who acknowledges me before others, I will acknowledge before my heavenly Father."

The world desperately needs men willing to acknowledge Christ.

Not just in church.

Everywhere.

At work.

At home.

With friends.

In how they treat their wives.

In how they speak.

In how they live.

Children learn more from what fathers do than from what fathers say.

A father kneeling in prayer teaches more than a hundred lectures.

A father receiving Communion reverently teaches more than a dozen books.

A father asking forgiveness teaches more than a thousand speeches.

Because faith is caught before it is taught.

And today I would also like to recognize another kind of fatherhood.

Father Bernadine.

Father Uba.

Our priests.

The Church has always called priests "Father" for a reason.

Not because they have biological children.

But because they have spiritual children.

They baptize.

They teach.

They guide.

They comfort.

They hear confessions.

They walk with people through life's greatest joys and deepest sorrows.

Their fatherhood is different, but it is real.

And many of us have been blessed by men who were fathers to us even though they were not our biological fathers.

A grandfather.

An uncle.

A teacher.

A coach.

A mentor.

A priest.

A deacon.

A neighbor.

A friend.

God often places father figures in our lives to help us understand His own fatherly love.

And perhaps that's the deepest message of Father's Day.

Every father, every grandfather, every priest, every mentor is meant to point us toward the one perfect Father.

Because every earthly father eventually falls short.

Every one of us.

But our Heavenly Father never does.

His love never fails.

His patience never runs out.

His mercy never ends.

And when our earthly fathers have disappointed us—or when we ourselves have disappointed our children—God's grace remains.

So today, let us thank God for the fathers who sacrificed for us.

Let us pray for fathers who are struggling.

Let us remember fathers who have died.

Let us forgive where forgiveness is needed.

Let us encourage the men in our lives.

And fathers, if you remember only one thing from today's Gospel, remember this:

Your children do not need you to be perfect.

They need you to be present.

They need you to love God.

They need you to keep trying.

They need you to keep showing up.

And they need to know that just as you have imperfectly loved them, there is a Heavenly Father who loves them perfectly.

"Do not be afraid."

Those words are not just for the disciples.

They are for every father.

Every grandfather.

Every priest.

Every spiritual father.

And every child of God.

Because our Father in Heaven knows us, loves us, and walks beside us even through the darkest paths of life.

And when we cannot see clearly ahead, He still reaches down, takes our hand, and says:

"Do not be afraid. I am right here."

Amen.

Do Not Be Afraid - Homily for 12th Sunday Ordinary Time - Year A (Matthew 10:26-33)

 

Homily on Matthew 10:26–33

"Do Not Be Afraid"

Today's Gospel from Matthew 10:26–33 contains one phrase that Jesus repeats three times:

"Do not be afraid."

Whenever Jesus repeats something, it is because He knows we need to hear it.

And perhaps there has never been a generation that needs to hear those words more than ours.

We live in a world filled with anxiety and uncertainty. We worry about our health, our finances, our families, our nation, and our future. We carry concerns about our children and grandchildren. We watch the news and wonder what tomorrow will bring.

Fear has a way of stealing our peace long before any actual suffering arrives.

Yet Jesus, looking into the hearts of His disciples—and into our hearts today—says:

"Do not be afraid."

Not because life will be easy.

Not because suffering will disappear.

But because we belong to Him.

And that changes everything.

But before Jesus speaks about courage, He reminds us of something essential.

Fear often grows when we think we are alone, unnoticed, or forgotten.

That is why the Lord begins not with a command, but with a reassurance. He wants His disciples to know that their lives are fully visible to God.

And so Jesus says:

"Nothing is concealed that will not be revealed, nor secret that will not be known."

At first glance, those words may seem unsettling.

But for those who love God, they are actually a source of comfort.

Because they remind us that God sees what the world often misses.

He sees the mother who stays up late praying for a struggling child.

He sees the grandfather quietly praying the Rosary for his family.

He sees the caregiver who sacrifices day after day for a spouse who is ill.

He sees the person who fights temptation and remains faithful when no one else knows the battle they are fighting.

The world often celebrates the loud, the wealthy, and the powerful.

But God notices the faithful.

There is a beautiful story from the life of Saint Mother Teresa.

One day a volunteer became discouraged because nobody seemed to appreciate the difficult work they were doing among the poor.

Mother Teresa smiled and said:

"God has not called us to be successful. He has called us to be faithful."

What mattered was not who noticed.

What mattered was that God noticed.

And He always does.

Knowing that God sees us should give us confidence.

Yet even when we know God is watching over us, another fear often creeps into our hearts.

It is the fear of what other people think.

The fear of standing out.

The fear of being different.

The fear of openly living our faith in a world that often misunderstands it.

And it is to that fear that Jesus now speaks.

Jesus says:

"Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul."

Most of us will probably never face physical persecution.

But we do face something else.

We face the fear of being judged.

The fear of being ridiculed.

The fear of being labeled old-fashioned or intolerant.

The fear of standing firm when everyone else seems to be moving in the opposite direction.

Many Catholics know exactly what that feels like.

You bow your head and pray in a restaurant.

You defend the sanctity of life.

You uphold the teachings of Christ regarding marriage and family.

You attend Mass every Sunday while others sleep in.

And sometimes people look at you as though you're the strange one.

The temptation is to blend in.

To remain silent.

To keep our faith hidden.

But Jesus never called us to be secret disciples.

He called us to be witnesses.

Years ago, a young Marine attended Mass every Sunday while deployed overseas.

Most of the men in his unit did not share his faith.

Some mocked him.

Others joked about religion.

One Sunday morning, as he prepared to attend Mass in a makeshift chapel, another Marine laughed and asked,

"Why waste your time?"

The young Marine simply smiled and replied:

"Because if Christ was willing to die for me, the least I can do is show up for Him."

He wasn't angry.

He wasn't argumentative.

He simply lived his faith.

Years later, after returning home, he learned that the same Marine who mocked him had quietly begun attending church.

Why?

Because he had never forgotten that witness.

The young Marine didn't convert anyone through debate.

He converted someone through courage.

Never underestimate what God can do through a simple act of faithfulness.

The courage of that young Marine reminds us of an important truth:

Most acts of faith do not happen on grand stages.

They happen in ordinary moments when we choose trust over fear.

But while many of us worry about what others think, there is another fear that may be even more common.

It is the fear of what tomorrow might bring.

If we're honest, this is where many of us struggle.

We can trust God with yesterday.

We can trust Him with today.

But trusting Him with an uncertain future is much harder.

Will my health hold up?

Will my children remain faithful?

Will my grandchildren know Christ?

Will my finances last?

What will happen to our country?

What does the future hold?

Fear often grows when we focus on what we cannot control.

That is why the story of the farmer during the drought speaks so powerfully to the Christian life.

There is an old story about a farmer who endured a severe drought.

Month after month, the fields dried up.

Neighbors complained.

Many gave up hope.

Yet every morning this farmer continued to walk his property, inspecting the soil and preparing for a harvest that seemed impossible.

One neighbor finally asked,

"Why are you working so hard when there hasn't been rain for months?"

The farmer replied,

"I cannot make it rain. That's God's job. But when the rain comes, I want God to find me ready."

That is faith.

Faith does not pretend problems don't exist.

Faith simply refuses to surrender hope.

Faith says:

"I trust God even when I cannot see what He is doing."

The farmer understood something that Jesus wants His disciples to understand.

We are responsible for faithfulness.

God is responsible for the harvest.

And to illustrate that truth, Jesus points to one of the smallest creatures imaginable—a sparrow.

Jesus says:

"Are not two sparrows sold for a small coin? Yet not one of them falls to the ground without your Father's knowledge."

Imagine that.

The Creator of the universe notices a tiny sparrow.

The God who formed the oceans and hung the stars in the sky pays attention to the smallest details of His creation.

And then Jesus says:

"You are worth more than many sparrows."

What an extraordinary truth.

God knows your name.

He knows your story.

He knows your wounds.

He knows your disappointments.

He knows the prayer you've been repeating for years.

He knows the burden you've told almost no one about.

And He has not forgotten you.

Not for a single moment.

What a remarkable image.

A God so attentive that He notices every sparrow.

A God so loving that He counts every hair on our heads.

But what does that kind of love actually feel like?

Perhaps this simple story captures it best.

A father and his young daughter were walking through a crowded city street.

The little girl suddenly became frightened by the noise and the people rushing around her.

She looked up and said,

"Daddy, I'm scared."

The father immediately reached down and took her hand.

A few moments later he asked,

"Are you still afraid?"

She smiled and replied,

"No."

The crowd had not changed.

The noise had not changed.

The circumstances had not changed.

The only thing that changed was whose hand she was holding.

That is the Christian life.

The storms may remain.

The diagnosis may remain.

The uncertainty may remain.

But Christ reaches down and says:

"Take My hand."

And suddenly we discover that courage is not the absence of fear.

Courage is walking forward despite fear because we know we are not alone.

That little girl discovered something every Christian eventually learns.

Courage is not found in controlling circumstances.

Courage is found in trusting the One who walks beside us.

And when we truly trust Him, we become willing to stand with Him publicly, regardless of the cost.

That leads us to the final challenge Jesus gives His disciples.

Jesus concludes:

"Everyone who acknowledges me before others I will acknowledge before my heavenly Father."

Brothers and sisters, the world desperately needs joyful, courageous Catholics.

Not angry Catholics.

Not fearful Catholics.

But joyful Catholics.

Catholics who trust God.

Catholics who love generously.

Catholics who forgive quickly.

Catholics who pray faithfully.

Catholics who are willing to stand with Christ even when it costs them something.

The saints were not fearless because they were extraordinary people.

They were fearless because they trusted an extraordinary God.

And the same Holy Spirit who strengthened them has been given to us.

Brothers and sisters, everything Jesus has said in today's Gospel leads to this moment.

God sees you.

God knows you.

God loves you.

Therefore, you do not need to live in fear.

As we prepare to continue with this Mass and approach this altar, imagine placing every fear you carry into the hands of Christ.

The fear for your children.

The fear for your grandchildren.

The fear for your health.

The fear for your future.

The fear that keeps you awake at night.

Place it all before Him.

Because the same Lord who calmed the storm, who raised the dead, who conquered the grave, is the Lord who speaks to us today.

And His message has not changed.

Do not be afraid.

Not because life will always be easy.

Not because suffering will never come.

But because you belong to Him.

The Father knows every hair on your head.

The Son has redeemed you with His Precious Blood.

The Holy Spirit walks beside you every step of the journey.

And if God is for us, who can be against us?

So leave this church today with confidence.

Leave with hope.

Leave with courage.

And whenever fear begins to whisper in your ear, answer it with the words of Christ Himself:

"Do not be afraid."

"Do not be afraid."

"Do not be afraid."

For the One who conquered death is with you now and always.

Amen.