Popular Culture and Ideas, Religion

Holy Christmas, Batman … they’re thinking, talking and writing about Christianity

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Several times a year (today being one of those times) I’ll see a post on my Facebook timeline from some old friend or colleague, who I haven’t seen for years, saying something to the effect, “Heard you(‘re) pretty religious.” Actually, that’s a verbatim quote from today on Facebook. But similar sentiments crop up several times a year, sometimes seemingly out of the blue, sometimes in relation to something I’ve recently written and posted on Facebook, or perhaps just re-posted from somewhere else. Usually it is framed more as a statement with a dangling question mark rather than a direct question.

The questioner in this case was a former roommate, who last I checked in with him on the matter about 30 years ago, was himself a committed atheist. And also a good guy, as we might say, principled and ethical. A good friend. A third member of our university roommate trio, who visited me after more than 20 years last summer, had also heard I was “pretty religious,” he told me. His wife, who I haven’t met yet, had suggested that before he visited, after reading some of my Facebook posts. My friend isn’t actually on Facebook himself but trolls his wife’s account from time to time, as do most Facebook objectors I know. A non-committal agonistic, he told me his response was sort of to shrug and say not to worry, “John’s always been a Catholic.”

When I hear or read this kind of thing, several things occur to me. One is the sobering fact that people I consider friends or former colleagues, who I worked with years ago, apparently in many cases find any connection between religion and me surprising and noteworthy enough to comment on. What, I wonder, does this say about how I lived my life in the years that I worked with or lived near them? As I said, sobering. And a bit rhetorical, as I’m not sure that I’d want them all to answer that, at least not on my timeline on Facebook.

As for their question, which might be paraphrased as, “When did you get religion?” how exactly does one answer that? I suppose Protestant evangelicals might point to their “born again” experience as that moment. Catholics …. well, infant baptism.

I can almost picture Pope Francis reminding me about the Sadducees, Pharisees and clericalism, should I start boasting about how religious I am. Pope Francis really is not a fan of legalism or legalists. He sees the Church as a big field hospital for sinners, of which he includes himself.

Given that I work 18 hours on Saturdays and Sundays, my parish priest might be surprised to hear how religious I am, too, given my mass attendance for the one mass I might attend weekly on Saturday nights at 6:30 p.m., after working 10 of those 18 hours, is pretty abysmal. No excuse. Sadly, “The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak” many times and an after-work nap beckons.

But when I am awake, I do write about religion with some frequency. I also read about it, think about it and think it matters far more than most journalists understand. However, that’s not exactly a new realization that I’ve come to. Almost 18 years ago, I was among the 270 participants on both sides of that great divide, interested in the intersection of religion and politics in the public square, when I attended the first-ever Faith in the Media conference at the Carleton University School of Journalism in Ottawa for three days from June 7-9, 1998. The Peterborough Examiner, while it didn’t have a religion beat in 1998, graciously picked up the tab for their city hall reporter to go.

Toronto’s Roman Catholic archbishop at the time, Aloysius Cardinal Ambrozic, noted that the Church makes truth claims and demands, which are absolute, while the media tends to be liberal, and, as such, opposed to absolutes. “(The) media are adept at showing the ills of society, but not the remedies … Most of our media are not interested in Christ’s self-emptying death, only in sweating and weeping Madonnas. The media love religious kitsch.” But Ambrozic quickly added, “We, the religious professionals, are not very forthcoming sometimes, perhaps out of a fear of sensationalism. Nor do we always explain ourselves well. At other times we kowtow to the media when we should question its mindset.”

I had also been able to write about religion some during the early to mid-1990s at the Kingston Whig-Standard, where religious coverage was quite possible on weekends, especially if you initiated it. One of my more surreal moments of religion coverage came in June 1995, less than two months after Timothy McVeigh, radicalized after the Waco Siege and Ruby Ridge incident, killed 168 people when he bombed the Oklahoma City federal building, and I covered a conference in Kingston called “Take A Stand ’95: Defending Your Faith in the New World Order.”

Gary Kah, of Indiana, and Eric Barger, of Texas, two of the rising stars of the televised Bible prophecy circuit, told me it was tough going in the immediate wake of Oklahoma City to deliver their message. I imagined it would be.

McVeigh himself was a baptized Roman Catholic but self-professed agnostic, who would later receive the Roman Catholic Sacrament of Anointing of the Sick, formerly known as Last Rites or Extreme Unction, administered through a federal Bureau of Prisons chaplain, minutes before his execution in the federal death chamber at Terre Haute, Indiana on June 11, 2001.

While it may have been tough going at the time in 1995, Kah and Barger are still going – strong, or at least, so it seems.

And the interesting thing is that much of what they talked about that June day more than 21 years ago has come to pass.

A “cashless” society, biometrics, including palm geometry and retinal scanning;  these things are no longer the stuff exclusively of the religious right and tin foil hat meme.

Or how about Implanted  RFID (radio frequency identification) chips? … hmm … sounds kinda like something from the pages of a script for one of the late Iowa filmmaker Russ Doughten’s movies, such as his 1972 film, A Thief in the Night, followed by its three sequels – A Distant Thunder in 1978, Image of the Beast in 1980 and The Prodigal Planet in 1983. Doughten, who earned his master’s degree from Yale Drama School in 1954, died at the age of 86 in August 2013.

While one friend on Facebook today was musing, “Heard you(‘re) pretty religious” another a few hours later sent me a link to Laurie Goodstein’s keynote address at the symposium on religious literacy in journalism earlier this month at Harvard Divinity School for the Religious Literacy Project.

I had read part of her speech last week. “I’m glad that we’re all here because we now have urgent work to do,” Goodstein said in her keynote speech Dec. 8. “Religious literacy has probably never been more important, or more of a challenge. The grounds are shaking, the fissures are cracking open all around us, and the faultlines all seem to intersect. Race, class, gender and underneath it all like molten lava: religion.”

Goodstein is the national religion correspondent for The New York Times. After earning a B.A. from University of California Berkeley and an M.A. from the Columbia School of Journalism, she began her journalism career in 1989 at The Washington Post.

She started as news assistant before becoming a metro reporter and then national reporter. While at the Post in both 1995 and 1996, she won two major awards for religion newswriting, The Templeton Religion Reporter of the Year and the Supple Religion Writing Award.

She joined The New York Times in 1997. “Her work for the Times has covered a wide range of topics and religious traditions, offering a nuanced rather than monolithic view of American Catholics, evangelicals, and Muslims, among others,” said Harvard Divinity School. “In 2004, she won the American Academy of Religion’s award for best in-depth news reporting on religion, an award she won again in 2009. In 2015, she also won the Religion Newswriters Association’s award for excellence in religion reporting. Her recent work has covered American evangelicals’ support for Donald Trump, the possibility of female deacons in the Catholic Church, and Muslim opposition to ISIS.”

I grew up Roman Catholic in an extended family of mainly Protestants (primarily United Church, but with a smattering of Anglicans) with a few Mormons and Jehovah’s Witnesses also added to the mix. I still have my dad’s 1927 United Church certificate for perfect Sunday school attendance. He was a member of the United Church when he married my mother in June 1942 – an era when “mixed marriages,” as they were quaintly called, were still rather uncommon and somewhat frowned upon by both Protestants and Catholics.

Eventually my dad converted to Catholicism of his own accord. But it was strongly suggested to me by my parents during my childhood that religion wasn’t a particularly suitable topic for discussion at large extended family events given the plurality of beliefs and the conviction with which they were held. I thought religion and politics were about the two most interesting topics one could talk about at the dinner table, so this imposed considerable restraint on me. Still, if my Uncle Morley and Aunt Dot weren’t bringing The Watchtower or Awake! around to the house on visits (and they weren’t), it seemed a reasonable accommodation. My dad and Uncle Morley found their common ground in a boat fishing. All in all, my parent’s live-and-let-live theology has struck me as increasingly wise as I get older.

Christmas dinner next week for many means travelling long miles only to be thrust together in close quarters with other annually seasonally-close family members and friends who hold somewhat different cultural, political, sports or even religious beliefs than you do.

In terms of the latter, this happens even among Christians, hard as that may be to believe, marking the birth of the saviour some 2,000-plus years ago in Bethlehem – or is it Nazareth? Take your pick.

The Gospels of Saint Matthew and Saint Luke opt for Bethlehem, while Saint Mark and Saint John seem to lean more toward Nazareth.

As for the year, month or day of Jesus’ birth, you can likely rule out Dec. 25 for the latter two and settle on sometime between 7BC and 4BC for the year. Popeemeritus Benedict XVI in his book, Jesus of Nazareth: The Infancy Narratives wrote that Jesus was born several years earlier than commonly believed because the entire Christian calendar is based on a miscalculation by a sixth century monk known as Dionysius Exiguus, or in English, Dennis the Small.

Given these antecedents it perhaps should come as no surprise then that Roman Catholics and their Protestant brethren some five centuries almost after the Reformation still don’t see eye-to-eye on some of the theological fine points of Christianity. In fact some evangelicals are pretty sure Catholics aren’t really Christians when it come right down to it and remain “unsaved” if they’re not “born again.”

The Catholic response is often a dismissive exercise in pulling rank and saying, in essence, “we were here first” and we are therefore synonymous with being “the Church.” As in one and the same in an unbroken line from Saint Peter to Pope Francis.

How this might play out at a Catholic-Protestant Christmas dinner has been nicely illustrated by Chris Castaldo, lead pastor at New Covenant Church of Naperville in Naperville, Illinois. Castaldo, who was raised as a Catholic and who had an uncle who was a cardinal,  several years ago did a 4:38-video promo for his book, Holy Ground: Walking with Jesus as a Former Catholic, where he plays the role of the Catholic brother, “Vito” at the Christmas dinner because, he says, he was a natural as a former Catholic – and “a Long Island Guido” – to play the role.

“Pastor Dave,” Castaldo’s good friend, Lon Allison, pastor of teaching and evangelism and missions at Wheaton Bible Church in West Chicago, Illinois, plays the Protestant minister.

The video, which can be seen at http://vimeo.com/2702601, is based on a true incident that happened to Castaldo as a minister at College Church in Wheaton, but whereas the actual incident happened right in the church, the fictional video setting has been moved to the family Christmas dinner. To say more about it here would make me a spoiler.

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Anglican, Roman Catholicism

Michael Coren leaves the Roman Catholic Church – again

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The Catholic blogosphere has been all atwitter in recent days over the defection of one of its highest profile Conservative writers, Canadian pundit Michael Coren, who was received on Sunday, April 19 into the Anglican Communion; to wit at the Cathedral Church of St. James on Church Street in Toronto, greeted outside by Rev. Canon Susan Bell, an honorary assistant at the cathedral and canon missioner for the Diocese of Toronto. St. James Cathedral is both a parish church ministering to the historic St. Lawrence neighbourhood and a cathedral church.

Coren, 56, was born in England and raised in a secular home, which he has described as “semi-culturally Jewish.” He says he became a Christian in 1984 and was received into the Roman Catholic Church in 1985 when he was 26. His wife, Bernadette, and four children are Catholic. They met in Toronto at a Chesterton conference held in 1986 to coincide with the 50th anniversary of the death of the legendary Catholic apologist – and perhaps someday saint – Gilbert Keith (G.K.) Chesterton. Coren moved to Canada from Britain in 1987.

“I could not remain in a church that effectively excluded gay people,” Coren told Joseph Brean of Toronto’s National Post newspaper in a May 1 story headlined,”‘I felt a hypocrite’: Author Michael Coren on why he left the Catholic Church for Anglicanism.”  Coren went on to tell Brean, “That’s only one of the reasons, but for someone who had taken the Catholic position on same-sex marriage for so long, I’d never been comfortable with that even though I suppose I was regarded as being a stalwart in that position. But I’d moved on, and I felt a hypocrite. I felt a hypocrite being part of a church that described homosexual relations as being disordered and sinful. I just couldn’t be part of it anymore. I could not do that. I couldn’t look people in the eye and make the argument that is still so central to the Catholic Church, that same-sex attraction is acceptable but to act on it is sinful. I felt that the circle of love had to be broadened, not reduced.”

The Anglican Church of Canada into which Coren has been received is an autonomous national church within the Anglican Communion consisting of over 800,000 members on parish rolls. The Anglican Communion, representing those in communion with the Archbishop of Canterbury, derives their forms of worship and the orders of their bishops, priests and deacons from the Reformation settlement in England. Anglicanism worldwide shares a common liturgical and theological tradition, catholic and reformed, which is expressed in local contexts in a wide variety of languages and customs. While each national or regional church within the communion is autonomous, the Archbishop of Canterbury is its spiritual head and the chief sign of its unity.

The first Anglicans in Canada were 16th century English explorers led by Martin Frobisher and his chaplain, the Rev. Robert Wolfall.

The Anglican Church did not become established in Canada, however, until the consecration of Charles Inglis as bishop of Nova Scotia in 1787. The head of the Anglican Church of Canada is the primate – Archbishop Fred Hiltz of the Diocese of Nova Scotia and Prince Edward Island.

Personally, I’ve always found Michael Coren’s politics way too conservative for my taste, and his tone mean-spirited at times, although he showed evidence of mellowing in recent years, even while still a Catholic.

He penned a column on religious bookstores for the long-defunct Idler, a Canadian general interest magazine for intellectuals edited by David Warren, which was sort of a forerunner to The Walrus, for the November-December 1991 issue where he wrote: “The Evangelicals may be intolerant, small-minded, and repellent, but at least they hold a consistent set of beliefs.”

This is also not Coren’s first defection from the Catholic Church. He also left in 1994 to attend several evangelical churches, including Baptist, and also attended Anglican services, after he wrote a June 1993 Toronto Life profile on Cardinal Aloysius Ambrozic, then archbishop of Toronto, in which he accurately quoted Ambrozic as using the words “frigging” and “bitch” and calling the late Spanish dictator Francisco Franco “a conservative Roman Catholic and not a bad fellow.”

The Catholic Church “circled its wagons around Ambrozic” and Coren, who had been a Roman Catholic for about eight years, “was deluged with hate mail,” Toronto-based freelancer Ron Csillag, who joined Religion News Service in March 2002 and covers eastern Canada, noted in a Sept. 2, 2011 obituary story on Ambrozic in the Globe and Mail.

Eventually, Coren returned to the Catholic Church and became one of its chief polemicists with the publication of two books, Why Catholics Are Right in 2011, and The Future of Catholicism in 2013.

And now he’s gone. Again. Defected this time to the Anglican Communion.

While I may have found an earlier version of Coren mean-spirited at times and nasty in his conservative tone, much of the reaction in the Catholic blogosphere and media over the last week or so has been even more mean-spirited, nasty and personally vindictive than vintage late 1980s and 1990s Coren.

Michael Voris founder of Saint Michael’s Media in Ferndale, Michigan  a religious apostolate of on-demand video programs, including The Vortex, on the website ChurchMilitant.TV, was vitriolic and boorish, as is his custom, whenever the Catholic Pharisee is indignant and offended, which is pretty much daily. It’s not that Voris is wrong in his Catholic theology; he’s not, at least in the most legalistic sense. But it’s a good thing it was Jesus and not Voris who met the Samaritan woman at the well or wasn’t there when Jesus invited he who was without sin to cast the first stone at the adulterous woman. At best, Voris plays lip service to things like mercy.

Voris, a former third degree member of the Knights of Columbus, who left the fraternal order as a matter of conscience after three years as a knight in 2011 because he said the national or supreme and some state councils were “nothing more than a [insurance] business” with “no real sense of attachment to the teachings of the faith” may not think of himself as being without sin, but he needs no invitation to cast a stone – first, middle or last – anywhere, anytime. Cardinal Timothy Dolan, archbishop of New York, was metaphorically stoned by Voris not long ago for being grand marshal of New York City’s St. Patrick’s Day parade March 17, a parade in which the OUT@NBCUniversal was allowed to march and publicize its identity, the first time an LGBT advocacy group has been allowed to march in the annual parade.

To be fair to Voris, who is a very smart guy with a Sacrae Theologiae Baccalaureus from the Pontifical University of Saint Thomas Aquinas, or Angelicum, in Rome, some of his criticism of the Knights of Columbus, however stinging, has been right on the money. Such as last month when he went after the Indiana State Council of the Knights of Columbus for refusing to back a resolution:

(1) clearly and publicly declaring support for the teachings of the Catholic Church on marriage as described in the Catechism of the Catholic Church;

(2) adopt and administer a policy consistent with teachings of the Catechism of the Catholic Church to provide councils with guidance as regards the rental of or use of halls and other facilities owned by or affiliated with the Knights of Columbus; and

(3) take all necessary legal steps to defend these policies in accordance with the free exercise of religion clause of the First Amendment of the U.S. Constitution.

Given the options to adopt the resolution, reject the resolution, vote no action on the resolution or refer the matter to Indiana state officers, the knights voted “no action.” The issue arose in late December last year after Knights of Columbus Council #934 in Madison, Indiana backpedaled on  their decision to not rent their hall to two lesbians, Alexandria Marie Shields and Taylor Butcher, for their wedding reception last month (ironically, the same weekend as the Indiana State Knights of Columbus convention).

In addressing Coren’s defection to Anglicanism, Voris had this to say on The Vortex May 5: “Michael Coren … has placed his immortal soul in deep jeopardy by renouncing the Catholic Church and joining a church founded by a man based on divorce and murder. Cut it up and make it attractive in whatever way you want, but that is what has happened here … the so-called worship offered up by King Henry’s church based on divorce and murder is fake worship because there is no Eucharist in that man-made religion.

“He later adds he began reading Anglican theologians. No such thing. There are no theologians outside of the Catholic Church – not legitimate ones, because they do not have the necessary graces to study in Catholic faith the things of God. They have nothing to offer because anything they offer begins with the supposition that the Catholic Church is not established by the Son of God … He says it doesn’t really matter what religion you belong to as long as you have a relationship with Jesus Christ.

“And there it is, perfectly summed up – the whole stinking rotten filth of Protestantism: that the person decides for himself.”

The real stink here is Voris’ tone. It is one thing to be combative and even a bit abrasive in one’s intellectual discourse; it is quite another to be the worst advertisement on Earth for the Catholic Church. Any non-Catholic – and even some practicing Catholics – seeing Voris’ 5:27 rant here at http://www.churchmilitant.com/video/episode/the-vortex-michael-coren, are likely going to wonder why it took Coren so long to leave the Catholic Church again – or why he came back in the first place (the Eucharist is what Coren said on that point).

Carl E. Olson, editor of Catholic World Report, an orthodox Catholic perspective online news magazine, who had been publishing a monthly column by Coren since September 2013, has written a much more measured response, which you can read here: http://www.catholicworldreport.com/Blog/3851/michael_coren_goes_anglican_denounces_catholic_moral_teaching.aspx

Olson grew up in a devout Fundamentalist Protestant home in western Montana. After two years of art school, he attended Briercrest Bible College, an Evangelical Bible college in Saskatchewan, graduating with an associate’s degree in 1991. His wife, Heather, is a graduate of Multnomah Bible College in Portland, Oregon. They married in 1994 and entered the Catholic Church together in 1997.

Olson also later graduated from the University of Dallas, a private Catholic liberal arts school in Irving, Texas with a masters degree in theological studies in 2000.

Olson asks not unreasonably, “How far, then, should the circle of love be broadened? Does it bother Coren that the Catholic Church also considers adultery, polygamy, pornography, and incest to be serious sins? Is he bothered that polygamists and people in incestuous relationships are ‘effectively excluded’ by the Catholic Church? Where does he want to draw the line? And why?”

Olson, and others, including Dorothy Cummings McLean, a columnist for the Catholic Register in Toronto, have quite rightly criticized Coren for clandestinely taking professional Catholic writing and speaking fees for somewhere between a year and a year and a half while making his under-the-radar journey into to the Anglican Communion, long attending services before his formal reception April 19. Point well taken methinks. “As a Roman Catholic in communion with the Holy See, I do not believe that an Anglican – above all a secret one – can  speak authoritatively about ‘the Catholic Church,'” wrote  Cummings McLean in a May 7 article headlined, ” Professional Catholics must be professional and Catholic” found at: http://www.catholicregister.org/opinion/cummingsmclean

Lea Singh in her Culture Witness blog posted at http://leazsingh.blogspot.ca/2015/05/so-long-michael-coren-newest-member-of.html on May 3, “So Michael Coren has become Anglican. Not surprising at this point, considering his about-face in 2014 on the issue of homosexual relationships, but still a sad and disappointing twist in the life story of a man whose words and books inspired many Catholics in Canada and elsewhere.

“In particular, one revelation rather stunned me: that he has been quietly attending the Anglican church for about a year.

“What this really means to me is that Michael Coren knowingly misled his Catholic audience. He continued functioning publicly as a Catholic apologist, writing articles for Catholic publications and circulating on the Catholic speaking circuit, without disclosing this very pertinent bit of information that would surely have given many of his Catholic promoters serious pause. Did Coren see no conflict between his public role as an outspoken Catholic and his Sunday attendance at another church?”

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Church of England

C.S. Lewis’ 1947 essay ‘On Forgiveness’: Written for the parish magazine of the Church of St. Mary, Sawston, Cambridgeshire

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As the parish church of Sawston, Cambridgeshire’s largest village, situated on the River Cam seven miles south of Cambridge, St. Mary’s is part of the Diocese of Ely, which is one of 44 dioceses of the Church of England, with more than 300 parishes in the county of Cambridgeshire, together with the western quarter of Norfolk, and a few parishes in Peterborough, Essex and Bedfordshire counties in the East of England.

The Church of England belongs to that part of the Christian tradition known as the Anglican Communion, representing those in communion with the Archbishop of Canterbury and deriving their forms of worship and the orders of their bishops, priests and deacons from the Reformation settlement in England.

The 44 Church of England dioceses are divided into two Provinces, the Province of Canterbury (with 30 dioceses of which Ely is one) and the Province of York (with 14 dioceses). The archbishops of Canterbury and York have pastoral oversight over the bishops within their province. The structure of dioceses within the Church of England was inherited from the Roman Catholic Church. The See of Ely was created in 1109 out of part of the Diocese of Lincoln.

In the centre of St. Mary’s lies the memorial slab to William de Sawston which was probably put in place between 1325 and 1340. Around the edge it reads ‘Here lies Sir William de Sawston for whom whoever passes by may say a Paternoster (Our Father)’.

The Black Death came to Sawston in the middle of the 14th century and killed at least 28 peasants, probably considerably more. After the Protestant Reformation and the visit of Puritan William Dowsing, inscriptions, stained glass and crucifixes in St. Mary’s were destroyed in 1643. Restoration wouldn’t come until the Victorian era of the late 19th century. In 1963, two memorials to Jesuit priests who had served at Sawston Hall were rediscovered during further renovations.

C.S. Lewis’ essay “On Forgiveness” was written for the parish magazine of St. Mary’s  and sent to Father Patrick Kevin Irwin on Aug. 28, 1947. In the short essay, which runs around 1,350 words, he wrote about the phrase in the Apostle’s Creed, “I believe … in the forgiveness of sins.” He distinguished between forgiving and excusing, calling them almost opposites, neatly drawing out the difference between asking God’s forgiveness and merely asking Him to excuse our behaviour:

“I find that when I think I am asking God to forgive me I am often in reality (unless I watch myself very carefully) asking Him to do something quite different,” Lewis wrote. “I am asking him not to forgive me but to excuse me. But there is all the difference in the world between forgiving and excusing. Forgiveness says, ‘Yes, you have done this thing, but I accept your apology; I will never hold it against you and everything between us two will be exactly as it was before.’ If one was not really to blame then there is nothing to forgive. In that sense forgiveness and excusing are almost opposites. Of course, in dozens of cases, either between God and man, or between one man and another, there may be a mixture of the two. Part of what at first seemed to be the sins turns out to be really nobody’s fault and is excused; the bit that is left over is forgiven. If you had a perfect excuse, you would not need forgiveness; if the whole of your actions needs forgiveness, then there was no excuse for it. But the trouble is that what we call ‘asking God’s forgiveness’ very often really consists in asking God to accept our excuses. What leads us into this mistake is the fact that there usually is some amount of excuse, some ‘extenuating circumstances.’ We are so very anxious to point these things out to God (and to ourselves) that we are apt to forget the very important thing; that is, the bit left over, the bit which excuses don’t cover, the bit which is inexcusable but not, thank God, unforgivable. And if we forget this, we shall go away imagining that we have repented and been forgiven when all that has really happened is that we have satisfied ourselves without own excuses. They may be very bad excuses; we are all too easily satisfied about ourselves.”

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