Tag Archives for lutheran

God Loves You And Has A Wonderful Plan For Your Life

In 1952, Bill Bright wrote The Four Spiritual Laws, an evangelistic tract that became the calling card of Campus Crusade for Christ. While this was three years before I was born, I probably didn’t encounter it until my late teens.

When I started college in 1973, I got to know people from the main Christian groups on the UND campus: InterVarsity Christian Fellowship, and of course, Campus Crusade. I was pretty clueless about denominational differences, and saw nothing odd about being Lutheran. I was pretty accepted by the InterVarsity folks, but I couldn’t understand why the Campus Crusade kids kept wanting to go through the Laws and pray “the prayer” with me. My telling them I was a Christian wasn’t enough; I had to jump through their CC-shaped hoop in order to be accepted by them.

This trite, cookie-cutter approach to evangelism became something of a joke to me, and I recall beginning conversations with kids on campus with the first of the Four Spiritual Laws, “Do you know that God loves you and has a wonderful plan for your life?” Perhaps twenty years later, it would occur to me that God has a rather ironic sense of humor, as my primary message had become that God indeed loves us and has wonderful plans for our lives. As God says to Israel in Jeremiah 29:11,

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” (NIV)

While I can’t recall why I understood this as a young child, I did understand that God loved me and, yes, had a plan for my life. Perhaps it was from the many Bible stories I learned in church and Sunday school about people like David, Samuel and Moses, chosen as children to serve God. Whatever the reason, I not only knew that God loved me, but also knew that I was destined for great things.

The world around me, of course, did everything possible to destroy this sense that I was loved and special. The message that the world gives is that we have to perform to certain standards to receive any love or respect, and that we will never, ever really be good enough. As with shame, this sense of needing to do more and try harder keeps us controllable by the powers that be.

As I left college and entered the corporate nightmare, this became all too clear. No one out there loves you unconditionally, and their plans for you are not necessarily for your own benefit. The message that God loves us and has wonderful plans for us is crucial; I believe this is one reason why Joel Osteen pastors what I understand is the largest church in the country. People don’t hear this in the world (or in many churches), and they are literally dying for it.

Jesus’ message to children was, “You’re special, and you’re loved.” Jesus’ message to Zacchaeus was, “You’re special and you have a purpose; can I hang out with you?” To the sick and the sinners, he said, “I know you, and you’re worth a miracle. There’s a better life waiting for you.” To the least, he said, “Come up higher. I love you and have a wonderful plan for you.”

I relished this message as a young child. I cling to it today. God loves me, this I know, and He has a wonderful plan for my life. And guess what? He’s got a doozey of a plan for you, too.

Questions:

  1. What was your reaction the first time you heard, “God loves you and has a wonderful plan for your life? What is your reaction today?
  2. If you had one message to share with the world, what would it be?

My First Bible Memory Verse

I recall rehearsing for my first Christmas pageant, though I don’t recall the pageant itself.  I don’t have any idea how old I was, but I was possibly three or four. All of us in my Sunday school class had speaking parts; that is, one line Bible verses. We simply were to take turns walking up to the microphone, saying our line, and walking back to our seats. I was naturally quite nervous, and I can recall sitting on my bed while my parents helped me to rehearse my line, over and over:

“God loved us and sent His son. First John, four ten.”

Obviously my practicing worked, as I still remember it.  The full version is this:

This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins. (NIV)

This verse, coincidentally, makes a point that I made previously: It is not our emotions concerning God that is important so much as knowing the truth that God – not just Jesus, but God the Father – loves us. Don’t get me wrong; it’s not inappropriate to display or vocalize our emotions. However, our emotions are capricious; they change quicker than the weather in Oregon and are, therefore, a notoriously bad gauge of truth. The fact that we feel love for God tells us absolutely nothing – the fact that God loves us tells us everything.

Many people have the mistaken belief that Jesus is the “good God” who loves us and the Father is the stern, hard to please God who is just one sin away from zapping us. In truth, while knowing the Father and the Son are separate persons within the Trinity (more on this later), the purposes and emotions of Jesus and the Father cannot be separated. As Jesus so aptly put it, “The Father and I are one. (John 10:30)” Jesus also said, “Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father. (John 14:9)” We know what the Father is like by knowing Jesus. When we see Jesus reaching out to children, the poor, the sick, and the sinners, we see the true heart of the Father.

This means that the God of the Old Testament – the one who obliterated Sodom – is the same God who is revealed to us in Jesus. How can this be? The writer of Hebrews put it like this:

In the past God spoke to our forefathers through the prophets at many times and in various ways, but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son, whom he appointed heir of all things, and through whom he made the universe. The Son is the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of his being, sustaining all things by his powerful word. (Heb. 1:1-3a)

In the Old Testament, God was revealed through men. In the New, we finally see the “exact representation” of the God of the Old Testament. As the New Century Version puts it, Jesus “shows exactly what God is like.” If we know God’s love as expressed in Jesus, we can then begin to see that same God in the Old Testament. Really.

Putting it another way,  reading the Old Testament is like looking at God through a dirty, distorted piece of old glass. Seeing Jesus in the Gospels provided an unobstructed view of God as he really is, a God motivated by love, compassion and grace. If we are shown two photographs of the same person – one faded, dirty, and blurry, and the other in high resolution color – which one would best tell us what the person looks like? There may be some details in the faded photo that are missing in the good one, but first we’d see what the good photo shows us and then look for that person in the old photo. We should start with what is clear, and then use that to understand what is unclear.

What is clear about God is, as my first Bible memory verse said, “God loved us, and sent His son.”

Questions:

  1. What is the first Bible verse that you memorized? At what age?
  2. What has been your image of God, as expressed in the Old Testament?

From Luther, With Love

Growing up Lutheran, I was well acquainted with Martin Luther. As I’ll talk about a bit later, he has always been one of my heroes. Luther, like many Roman Catholics of his day (not to mention most contemporary evangelicals), was heavily influenced by St. Augustine, with his doctrines of man’s total depravity, original sin, and inherited guilt.As anyone who has seen the movie Luther knows, Brother Martin struggled with his sin, his guilt, and the need to know that he was forgiven.

The torment of his guilt was such that when he finally saw that God operated by grace and love and not by our ability to live pious lives or follow men’s rules, he was willing to die rather than retract his teaching. At the Diet of Worms in 1521, Luther responded to the demand that he recant with these words:

Unless I am convinced by the testimony of the Scriptures or by clear reason (for I do not trust either in the pope or in councils alone, since it is well known that they have often erred and contradicted themselves), I am bound by the Scriptures I have quoted and my conscience is captive to the Word of God. I cannot and will not recant anything, since it is neither safe nor right to go against conscience. May God help me. Amen.

Like Luther, the reformer John Calvin was also greatly influenced by Augustine, and we can see Calvin’s Augustinian influence throughout much of the contemporary evangelical church, even in groups who do not identify themselves as Calvinists. However, Luther discovered what Calvin seemed to miss: The primacy of God’s Love. It was the knowledge that God was motivated by His love for us – rather than the need for God to assert His holiness, vengeance, or glory – that finally set Luther free.

I have no doubt that Luther’s beliefs were firmly founded on his reading of Scripture, as he stated at Worms, though I suspect his own personal experience of grace and God’s love that accompanied his theological breakthrough reinforced his commitment to the Gospel. Luther wrote,

“Thereupon I felt myself to be reborn and to have gone through an open door into paradise. The whole of scripture took on a new meaning, and whereas before the ‘righteousness of God’ had filled me with hate, now it became to me inexpressibly sweet in greater love. This passage of Paul became to me a gate to heaven . . . .”

Having this revelation of God’s love, Luther was able to make such bold statements as, “Love God and do as you please” and the oft-quoted and often misunderstood, “Sin boldly.” Anyone who has read Luther will know that by no means was Luther encouraging licentiousness or sinfulness. Rather, Luther was convinced that we did not need to become holy before we can approach God; furthermore, he knew that we couldn’t if we tried. Being human, we will fail – however, that should not keep us from drawing near to God. As the writer of Hebrews said, “Let us therefore come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need. (Heb. 4:16 KJV)”

How else can we ever hope to boldly and with confidence (Heb. 10:19) enter God’s throne room, unless we are first convinced of God’s love for us? Even if we fully believe in the mechanics and legalities of our salvation, without being confident of God’s love, walking into God’s presence would give us a moment of pause. Is He perhaps just a little angry that we got in? Should I have given a dollar to that homeless man yesterday, or tithed more regularly? Will I be one of those to whom God will say, “I don’t know you?”

The true legacy that Luther gave to the Evangelical movement (which later became known as the Lutheran Church) is this certainty that we are indeed loved by God, the Creator of the universe.

It was, then, this rich heritage into which I was born, and for which I am eternally grateful.

Questions:

  1. Do you have a sense of having received a spiritual legacy, either personally, or in the church group you belong to?
  2. How does this flavor your present spiritual experience?

Steeped in God’s Love

(A personal reflection)

I was raised a Lutheran, in a small community in northern Minnesota that very well could have been the inspiration for Garrison Keillor’s imaginary town of Lake Wobegon. My dad came from a long line of Swedish Lutherans who had been part of the Swedish Augustana Evangelical Lutheran Church, which merged with the Lutheran Church in America (now part of the ELCA). Kittson County, where I lived, was at least at one time considered the most Swedish county in the United States and still boasts the highest percentage of Swedish speakers in the country. My dad was raised speaking Swedish at home and my grandfather, who lived with us when I was little, never fully converted to English.

The church we attended was called Grace Evangelical Lutheran Church, a truly wonderful name for a church. “Evangelical” was the term Martin Luther used to refer to his reformation movement, and was kept in the name to honor the former Augustana church. My church was the largest church in town, with a membership of over 1,000 (but an average attendance at less than 1/3 of that). While the LCA was apparently known as the most liberal of the Lutheran denominations, I remember our church as being quite conservative, both socially and theologically.

Oddly enough, the Swedish Lutherans had been pietists, something that I’m sure would have caused Martin to spin in his grave. It was the very thing that Luther had warned about in the introduction to his commentary on Galatians:

I have taken in hand, in the name of the Lord, once again to expound the Epistle of St. Paul to the Galatians; not because I desire to teach new things, or such as you have not heard before, but because we have to fear, as the greatest and nearest danger, that Satan take from us the pure doctrine of faith and bring into the Church again the doctrine of works and men’s traditions.

When my dad was young, for example, playing cards were not allowed (although they could play regular card games with a deck of Rook cards), alcohol was wrong (except for medicinal purposes), and frivolous music was frowned upon.

These trends obviously didn’t stick in my family, as my dad and his brothers were self-taught musicians, my dad playing piano, guitar, and clarinet in a local swing band. My mother was Episcopalian, but joined the Lutheran church when I was little, and began teaching Sunday School, which she did for fifteen or more years. Neither of my parents were drinkers, although they no aversion to making home-made wine on occasion. By the time I was born, playing cards were in abundance in our house, and I could play Rummy as soon as I could count (if not before). My parents certainly demonstrated very high moral standards; however, I was never taught that God would be mad at me if I failed.

I grew up convinced that God loved and accepted me unconditionally. I don’t know where I first learned this, but I was surer of this than anything, even of my parents’ love for me. I’ve often heard that children will form their ideas about God from their relationship with their father. While I had a wonderful dad, I can’t really say that this principle held true for me. Rather, from a very early age I understood that God was the only person who would ever really love and accept me unconditionally. My parents were fallible, God was not. I might fear the wrath of my parents or other authority figures, but I never feared God’s wrath.

And to this day, I never have.

Lutheranism’s Attitude About the Ancient Church Fathers

A nice quote courtesy of Paul T. McCain at CyberBrethren.com:

The Lutheran Church has never despised or even disregarded the traditions that have come down from the ancient fathers of the Church. What has been preserved by the teachings and doings of Christian men from the apostles’ time down to the present day is precious. The light which it gives in regard to the faith and the labors of love which the Holy Spirit wrought in other days, the lives which were rendered luminous by rays from heaven – as others were rendered dark by obscuring blackness from hell, in its rage against the Anointed of the Lord – the Church is not willing to forget. She desires to learn the lessons of history and rejoices in her fellowship with men of God who lived and suffered in the same glorious cause in which she is still engaged with the same assurance of faith which made believers strong in other days. But she knows that some professed to be Christians who were not such, and that Christians could err in the past as in the present, and therefore she applies to the Christians of other times the same unerring rule that she applies now, and holds fast as God’s truth only what is declared in God’s Word.

Matthias Loy, The Augsburg Confession, p. 179.

I would tend to agree with this assessment, judging the teachings of the Church Fathers to the Scriptures, not other Fathers, nor the Lutheran Confessional documents.  While all is helpful, not everything is necessarily correct.

Reminder of a kinder, gentler (Lutheran) time

Whenever I visit my home town of Hallock, MN (which isn’t often), I am reminded – a lot – of Garrison Keillor’s Lake Wobegon. Besides all of the small-town weirdness and the Lutheran culture, there’s something simple and nice and decent about it.  I tend to forget this; living in a non-Lutheran culture, I forget just how civilized rural life can be among Minnesota Lutherans.

Yesterday I along with my Mom and sister were invited to the home of my high school science teacher, Phillip Peterson, and his wife, Marlys. Besides being my science teacher, Phillip was also one of my Sunday School teachers (in the Lutheran church, of course).  Marlys and my mom graduated from high school together and have remained fairly close friends.  So, knowing I was coming home for a quick visit, they called to invite us over for coffee.

I had forgotten how Lutherans do coffee.  Similar to the British tradition of Tea, Minnesota Lutherans routinely stop whatever they are doing and have coffee along with something sweet – cookies, cake, whatever.  We used to call it “lunch.”  Dinner was the noon meal, supper was in the evening, and lunch was around three P.M.

We got to Peterson’s at 2:00 and were ushered into the family room, where we had a nice talk.  After a while, Marlys went to make some coffee.  After a few minutes we were invited to the dining room, where the table was set like something from HGTV.  Upon each dish was a bowl containing 2 varieties of ice cream. There were cups for coffee, and glasses of ice water. There was a plate with 2 varieties of cookies, a plate of chocolate-iced rice krispy bars, and 2 bowls of chocolates. Just looking at the table caused my blood sugar to increase.

I had forgotten what Midwestern hospitality was like.  We’ve become so relaxed, so comfortable in our post-cultural-revolution that we’ve not only lost any concept of formality, but we’ve lost our concept of hospitality.

It’s the same with church, and even our relationship with God.  So many have lost formality, becoming so relaxed and casual that our sense of hospitality and respect for all that’s holy has been lost.

I really enjoyed my visit with the Petersons.  I was reminded of a kinder, gentler time.  I was also reminded that formality and intentionality may be rare, but it’s never out of style.

If you like singing in church, thank Martin Luther

The BBC has produced a very nice documentary on the Lutheran influence in worship, paying particular attention to Bach, probably the most well-known Lutheran organists and composers.  It’s fascinating – anyone who has an interest in worship music should find this particularly interesting.

I hadn’t realized that in the pre-Luther Roman Catholic Churches, the congregation didn’t sing; the hymns were all sung for them by “professionals” – in Latin, of course.  Luther started writing hymns like “A Mighty Fortress” and taught his congregation to sing.  This started a whole new trend in popular worship, as you could imagine.

Again, the documentary is fascinating, and features music by Luther, Bach, and others performed by The Sixteen, conducted by Harry Christophers, as it traces the influence of Luther and his followers on worship music, and specifically that of Bach.

The good news is that this is available as a series of 6 HQ videos on YouTube.  Here’s the first installment:

Paul T. McCain has also blogged about this series here, where he has provided the following links to the 6 videos:

Part 1: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4dAC1lLYJpg

Part 2: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i7-fUPwPHaE

Part 3: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uu1rfLUTzow

Part 4: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8gZKv19KEtA

Part 5: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5lecMZDofRw

Part 6: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wr6g9B4nCnI

Enjoy!

A Tale of One-and-a-half Churches – a sequel

This week my intention was to visit a Missouri Synod Lutheran Church, as to my recollection I have never been to one.  I picked a local church based on the info on their website.  They seemed to know exactly what they believed, which I appreciate.  I also appreciated that they met at 10, which gave me an extra hour to sleep in.  However, I chose to leave part-way through the service and head over to St. Paul’s Episcopal, where I have been regularly attending, to catch their late service.

My decision to leave was based on a couple of factors, one of which kind of surprised me.  First, I was slightly annoyed that although they had brand-new Service Books in the pews, they didn’t use them.  Instead, they had reprinted everything – including the hymns – in the bulletins, which ended up being several pages.  The fact that people would rather waste paper than take the time to pick up a book was actually annoying to me. (Although, a benefit is that I now have a copy of their liturgy, which I’ll hang on to.)

Next, they use “communion cards.”  I was raised Lutheran (LCA) but don’t know what these are.  Why do they keep a record of taking communion?  And, I found out as I read the card that I wouldn’t be able to take communion because I hadn’t gotten “clearance” from an elder first.  Fine time to point that out, after the service has begun.

However, the real reason I decided to leave was that the Lutheran service lacked the pomp and respect that I have become used to in the Episcopal church.  There were no kneeling benches.  I never knelt in church before 9 months ago, and now I miss it.  The Gospel was read from the front, not down among the people.  No one crossed themselves.  The whole service just felt “flat.”  The pastor was cheery enough, but the whole process somehow lacked joy, as well as the sense of reverence that is inescapable at St. Paul’s.

So, I escaped during a hymn.  Walking into St. Paul’s, I felt at home, and loved every minute of it.  Even the sermon – delivered by a guest priest, the Rev. Karen Tiegs – was fantastic, tying in today’s Gospel and Epistle readings. So, I spoke to the priest in charge after the service, and we’re going to get together in a couple of weeks.

Of course, I know that the Episcopal church has issues.  However, I haven’t heard anything in this church in the last 9 months that I have a problem with.

So we’ll see.   It’s an interesting journey.

It’s fun to be in the ELCA

The Evangelical Lutheran Church in America has taken yet one more step away from orthodoxy this week as they voted to endorse same-sex relationships that are “chaste, monogamous and lifelong,” whatever that means.  As Paul McCain has pointed out, they already left the authority of Scripture behind some time ago, so what do we expect?

Another member of the Wittenberg Trail “Ning” blog network, Charles Henrickson, has put all of this in perspective, with the following lyrics, to be sung to the tune, “Y.M.C.A.”

Go for it.

E.L.C.A.

“Luth’ran”
Doesn’t mean quite the same
As what you’ve been
Taught to know by that name.
We’re removin’
All the scandal and shame
Of a church that stands for something.

Luth’ran,
No, you’re not misinformed,
Yes, it’s true now,
We commune the Reformed.
No forced union
Made us bow or conform,
Just a warm and fuzzy feeling.

It’s fun to be in the E.L.C.A.
It’s fun to be in the E.L.C.A.
We have women in black,
Now there’s no turning back
To the hang-ups of dead white guys.

It’s fun to be in the E.L.C.A.
It’s fun to be in the E.L.C.A.
You can set yourself free
From dead orthodoxy,
You can do whatever you please.

Luth’ran,
Won’t you please come along
To the Elca,
Where’s there’s no right or wrong.
In the Elca,
Heretics can belong,
They can teach at seminary.

“Luth’ran,”
But our fingers were crossed,
All our doctrine
Has been totally lost.
All that’s Luth’ran
Is what we have embossed
On our cards and stationery.

It’s fun to be in the E.L.C.A.
It’s fun to be in the E.L.C.A.
We have women in black,
Now there’s no turning back
To the hang-ups of dead white guys.

It’s fun to be in the E.L.C.A.
It’s fun to be in the E.L.C.A.
You can set yourself free
From dead orthodoxy,
You can do whatever you please.

Elca,
Where it’s very uncouth
And unwelcome
To say you have the truth
And where seldom
Is a word ever heard
To discourage sin or error.

Elca,
Where it’s all shades of gray,
I said, Elca,
Where it’s hip to be gay.
Our umbrella
Is as big as a tent,
There’s no need for you to repent.

It’s fun to be in the E.L.C.A.
It’s fun to be in the E.L.C.A.
We have women in black,
Now there’s no turning back
To the hang-ups of dead white guys.

It’s fun to be in the E.L.C.A.
It’s fun to be in the E.L.C.A.
You can set yourself free
From dead orthodoxy,
You can do whatever you please. . . .

“Luth’ran”
Doesn’t mean quite the same
As what you’ve been
Taught to know by that name.
We’re removin’
All the scandal and shame
Of a church that stands for something.

Luth’ran,
No, you’re not misinformed,
Yes, it’s true now,
We commune the Reformed.
No forced union
Made us bow or conform,
Just a warm and fuzzy feeling.

It’s fun to be in the E.L.C.A.
It’s fun to be in the E.L.C.A.
We have women in black,
Now there’s no turning back
To the hang-ups of dead white guys.

It’s fun to be in the E.L.C.A.
It’s fun to be in the E.L.C.A.
You can set yourself free
From dead orthodoxy,
You can do whatever you please.

Luth’ran,
Won’t you please come along
To the Elca,
Where’s there’s no right or wrong.
In the Elca,
Heretics can belong,
They can teach at seminary.

“Luth’ran,”
But our fingers were crossed,
All our doctrine
Has been totally lost.
All that’s Luth’ran
Is what we have embossed
On our cards and stationery.

It’s fun to be in the E.L.C.A.
It’s fun to be in the E.L.C.A.
We have women in black,
Now there’s no turning back
To the hang-ups of dead white guys.

It’s fun to be in the E.L.C.A.
It’s fun to be in the E.L.C.A.
You can set yourself free
From dead orthodoxy,
You can do whatever you please.

Elca,
Where it’s very uncouth
And unwelcome
To say you have the truth
And where seldom
Is a word ever heard
To discourage sin or error.

Elca,
Where it’s all shades of gray,
I said, Elca,
Where it’s hip to be gay.
Our umbrella
Is as big as a tent,
There’s no need for you to repent.

It’s fun to be in the E.L.C.A.
It’s fun to be in the E.L.C.A.
We have women in black,
Now there’s no turning back
To the hang-ups of dead white guys.

It’s fun to be in the E.L.C.A.
It’s fun to be in the E.L.C.A.
You can set yourself free
From dead orthodoxy,
You can do whatever you please. . . .

A Lutheran perspective on North American Christianity

From a recent sermon (Lutheran):

… we need to recognize that the religious culture of North America is Evangelicalism.  This culture has its roots first in Puritanism, which is basically Calvinistic, and secondarily in the great revival movements of the late 18th and early 19th centuries.  Evangelicalism puts the emphasis on conversion as a personal decision and the church as a spiritual democracy.  Evangelicalism’s stress on the autonomy of the believer and the immediacy of spiritual experience apart from sacramental means has shaped a religious culture that accents an individualistic faith over churchly life and tends to characterize Baptism, Absolution, and the Lord’s Supper as peripheral to the Christian life.  This subjectivity, coupled with a suspicion of the intellect, has produced a religious culture that elevates heart over head, and emotion over intellect.  Wherever biblical authority is lost, Christ is displaced, and the Gospel is distorted, then our interests have displaced God’s, and we are doing His work in our own way.  The loss of the centrality of Christ in the life of today’s church in North America is becoming more and more common.  It is this loss that allows us to transform worship into entertainment, Gospel preaching into marketing, believing into technique, and living a sanctified life into feeling good about ourselves. God does not exist to satisfy human ambitions, cravings, the appetite for consumption, or our own private spiritual interests. [emphasis mine]

I wish I’d said that.  I often refer to Marshall McLuhan’s concept, “The medium is the message,” which I think is especially true of our expressions of Christianity. How we worship – what we do on Sunday mornings – speaks volumes about our values and beliefs, more so than we realize.  In many evangelical churches – and to be fair, a number of liturgical churches as well – Christ is not in the center of what is being done.  Sticking to the liturgical book masks this somewhat, but many liturgical churches have left the book for newer, trendier liturgies that are severely lacking.  I actually walked out of one such Lutheran service.  Seeker-sensitive or experientially-focused churches, however, have nothing historical to hide behind, so I think the message they convey in what they do is more obvious.

Is this being judgmental?  Yes, definitely.  But, as GK Chesterton said (my favorite quote), “Tolerance is the virtue of a man without convictions.“  Am I positive that I’m 100% correct in my judgments?  Not at all – however, I will believe what I believe until I have a better revelation of truth.  If you’ve got some, I’d certainly like to hear it.

Thanks to Dawn for the quote.