Thank you, Father Martin. It's a humbling honor and a distinct pleasure to be invited to join you in the celebration of 50 years of the life of this community. What accomplishments surround us in the several graceful chapels in the monk's quarters and library, in your excellent bookstore, and in the comfortable guest accommodations. I join in thanking God for these accomplishments and for you. Talk of bringing Kohl's to Newcastle. I speak to this community of ways of encounter, meaning ways of encountering God.

[01:06]

Much of what I have to say on how I have heard God, how I've responded to God, must duplicate or echo your own experiences. And I thought it might be worthwhile to bring together the experiences over a lifetime that have composed the consciousness I have of him in whom we live and move and have our being. No one has ever seen God, St. John's Gospel assures us, except the Son. Nor, despite the expression odorous sanctity, has anyone ever smelled God. Taste and see that the Lord is sweet, the psalmist says, but we don't take the advice, literally.

[02:16]

Nor can we reach out, and in the phrase of AT&T, touch God. But do we hear God? Karl Rahner has an essay which is provocatively entitled, Conversations with Silence. The title, at least, suggesting that he hears no response to his words of prayer. Speech is the way one person communicates with another person. If God does not speak to us, we are abandoned. I doubt that we converse with silence. Any modern person hesitates to say that God speaks to him. Quite apart from vestigial echoes of a discredited Freudianism, we are aware of how misleading subjective impressions may be.

[03:29]

Do we hear God's voice or our mother's? Especially does this doubt occur today when we are confronted by militants who claim God's authority for their acts of belligerence. Yet I would have to testify that when attentive to conscience and its guidance and the sense of sin that attends it, I am conscious of listening and of hearing Not by my auditory organs, of course. The speech heard is not conveyed by waves of air, but is part of an internal dialogue whose source is beyond me.

[04:34]

I am perhaps on more objective ground when I recall my encounters with others speaking for God and quoting his words in the context of community. Although we do not often attend to it, we hear God in scripture only as he or his representatives are quoted by the sacred writers There is sometimes an immediacy to the text that impresses us, as if we were hearing the words directly from the original divine speaker. But the Ten Commandments, the ten words in the Hebrew, exist in quotation by the Pentateuchal authors.

[05:40]

The Sermon on the Mount is quoted by Mark, Matthew, and Luke. Scripture is the Word of God, but its inspiration does not convert the text into the direct speech of God. When I first read the words of these messages, I did hear them as the words of God speaking to me. Now I understand that the Hebrew commandments were portions of the legislation of Israel, and that how they are translated makes a difference. Is the commandment, you shall not kill, or is it you shall not murder? And I understand that the author or authors are often

[06:42]

pseudonymous, and that the author of Exodus is quoted by the author of Deuteronomy, so there is at least a double quotation in the transmission of the text of the Ten Commandments in Deuteronomy. And I realize that the Sermon on the Mount may be a composite and not a single discourse And that again here, quotation of a quotation, may occur from a text which is common to the three evangelists. Sensible as I am of these imperfections of the media, I still respond to their teaching as to the voice of God personally heard. To turn to one extra-canonical work of great significance to me since the age of about 11, Thomas Akempa's The Imitation of Christ.

[07:54]

Here is an author who successfully impersonates God. That is, at times, he addresses us as if he were God speaking. For example, I quote, son, you are not yet a valiant and prudent lover. He then interjects the question, why, Lord? And then as God, he continues, because of a little opposition, you fall off from what you have begun. And in the persona of the Lord, the analysis of spiritual sluggishness goes on for several pages of chapter 6 of book 3 of The Imitation. There are parts of The Imitation which could be read as cantos, that is, composites of scriptural verses, as in the introduction to book 4.

[09:06]

I quote, come to me, all you who labor and are burdened And I will refresh you, says the Lord. The bread which I will give is my flesh for the life of the world. Such passages move from explicit quotation to paraphrase, in which the Lord is again presented as the speaker. The employment of scripture adds authenticity to the speaker's voice. And as I read the passage, I hear the Lord. This report, you'll observe, mixes reading and hearing, just as my account of conscience is not literal, but speaks of speech and hearing that do not depend upon tongue or ears.

[10:10]

Reluctantly, I am driven to conclude that the speaking and the hearing are immaterial and must therefore be metaphorical. It disturbed Thomas Jefferson that God should be immaterial. For Thomas Jefferson, what was immaterial was nothing. Almost as for a lawyer, what is immaterial is irrelevant and not admissible into evidence. A believer in God himself, Jefferson contended that God consisted in very fine matter. I sympathize with Jefferson's desire for the intangibility of matter, but I think he has not understood the terms he is using.

[11:24]

A material God would be a finite physical entity. We might be pleased to touch, taste, smell, see, and hear such an entity, but it would not be God. of being unconfined by space and by time. Communication to and from the spiritual being is at least normally spiritual. And that means it must normally be metaphorical. We communicate to God by images derived from our earthly existence. God communicates to us by similar images. God does not have literally a right hand at which, according to the creed, the Son sits.

[12:28]

The coming judgment by the Son will not be a judicial proceeding with witnesses, cross-examination, and an address by defense counsel. The physical image of the right hand, just like the social image of a court, functions to convey a reality that by its nature cannot be captured in literal language. It is thus wonderful, but not so surprising, that I should encounter God in the Eucharist after its consecration by a priest quoting the words of the Lord, this is my body, this is my blood. Now, preceded by hearing, there is taste and smell, touch and see,

[13:32]

of the bread and wine, of course, but understood as a way in which God comes to us. Here is the very tangibility, the materiality for which Jefferson longed. The symbolic, united to the sacramental, conveys a reality present beneath the material signs. The language in which communication of this kind occurs is something that has interested me since childhood. My mother told me the story of Eve and the snake. She recalls that my response at a fairly early age was, what language does the snake speak? More recently, my friend David Dauber, a great student of the New Testament, raised the question of how Jesus and Pilate conversed.

[14:48]

Jesus did not speak Latin. The Roman governor would not have bothered to learn Aramaic. Analogously, but differently, the sign language used for communication in the Eucharist presents the question of whether a translation is needed. But there is a language and presence that dispenses with words. In this ever-repeated ritual, in the books I have mentioned, in my inner being, I have encountered God. Let me add a further place that you will recognize by the words spoken. Ego te absolvo, as the old rite put it. I absolve you, as modern practice phrases it.

[15:54]

Here the priest acting for God performs an act only accomplishable by God. He forgives sins. His act is not psychological counseling, not an exhortation to a better life, not an expression of solidarity in the spiritual journey. The priest's role here is sometimes compared to that of a judge, sometimes to that of a doctor. Ego te absolvo are words that neither a judge nor a doctor can speak. Offenses are being forgiven. Only God can forgive them. In these three simple words, I encounter the ego who's speaking through the sacerdotal surrogate. Is God forgiving?

[16:57]

prayers and rites and sacred books and the promptings of conscience are no doubt only the most formal or the most explicit forms of encounter with God. In a multitude of other ways, in music and painting as well as in reading, in mountains and oceans, storms and starlights, and teachers and pupils, colleagues and friends, above all, and wife and children and parents, I have encountered the providential, the ordered, the gifts that are beyond chance and luck, that are recognizable as manifestations of the Spirit. I could, I suspect, discern a pattern in my life that I could read with devotion as communication from God.

[18:06]

I grasp the possibility of such a pattern. I accept the teaching of Thomas Aquinas that providence has a plan. and the teaching of my friend John Donne that things are meant. But I do refrain from being certain in my reading of the pattern, in my interpretation of the events. I will stick to speaking of encounters with God in the holy books, the holy rites, and in the subjective certainty of conscience. When do these communications from God begin? I have dated with some confidence my first reading of the Imitation to about age 11.

[19:08]

Communion and confession began at the canonical age of seven. But now I am unsure of when I was penetrated by their meaning. Similarly, I heard the Gospels read as soon as I was able to attend Mass with my parents, but I find it difficult to date exactly when the words of the Lord began to speak to me. By 11 or 12, I should guess, I had some sense of God communicating in the ways that I've enumerated. Let me turn to the other side of meeting God, the response side. Of course, the two sides can be separated only for purposes of presentation. One, no doubt, implies the other. But I will speak now of my efforts to communicate.

[20:14]

The Our Father and Hail Mary as well as the story of Adam and Eve and the articulate snake I learned from my mother early in life. You know that in one prayer God is located firmly in a place in heaven addressed only as our common father and celebrated as exemplary in his treatment of offenses. And the other prayer God not addressed directly is mentioned in passing as a child. These two prayers I met again as they form the substance of the rosary. Is it necessary to add that they have been basic to me for about 70 years?

[21:17]

I've sometimes wondered if we should not seek to be original in prayer. Is there not danger in repeating the old formulas? In writing and in public speaking, we value creativity. It's hack work to revise or remodel the words of another. It's plagiarism to copy them. It's parroting to mouth what someone else has put in your mouth. But in prayer, we all say the same old words. Let's grant that stable formulae are the staple of ritual. Why are they a necessity of private prayer? To these questions,

[22:21]

My first response is that the Our Father has the authority of its author. No one will improve on the Lord. The Hail Mary is in part a canto of gospel texts and in part a very old addition to these texts. As a composite, the prayer became popular in Europe is an affirmation of the goodness of procreation in opposition to the Carther view that procreation was a special sort of disaster. Only the salve reginum competes with it in expressing devotion to Mary, and nothing equals its simplicity and succinctness. When such a prayer exists, Ingenious invention is not needed.

[23:26]

My second and deeper response to these questions comes from experience. For daily use, the traditional prayers suffice. Finally, when I ask, do I speak for myself when I repeat, quote as it were, the words of someone else. Do I speak for myself? I am reminded that I am in a community. I use the common words to express our joint petitions to our father and to ask Mary to pray, not for me, but for us. These simple prayers, we all know, form a structure. And with the creed and the Gloria, they become a rosary. Here, the repetition of the words subordinates their meaning to the meditation that accompanies them.

[24:37]

A kind of double consciousness exists, a consciousness of the recited words, a consciousness of the mysteries commemorated. From time to time, at some ages and at some times more than others, I have reached to the rosary. It is indelibly associated for me with my birth month, October, and also with Michelangelo's Last Judgment, as it has been interpreted by Leo Steinberg, noting that the rosary runs down from Mary's lap to the edge of the ledge where sinners may still grasp it and not perish. I turn from these ways of communicating to God known and used since childhood to the ways provided by the Mass

[25:42]

known and used by me almost as long. From a closely woven whole, let me single out three passages as follows. First, the confitio, a wonderful practical compromise, an acknowledgment of sin without specifying any sin. So it is public yet private. A comprehensive acknowledgment, not only of deeds, but of words and of thoughts, so that sin is seen as more than material action. An acknowledgment, first to God, then to the community present, as well as to that community composed by the saints. Secondly, the offertory.

[26:48]

God has asked, and I quote, to grant us by this mystery of water and wine to be co-sharers of the divinity of him who humbled himself to become a partaker of our humanity. Our rise is put in parallel to Christ's incarnation. He became man. We ask to be consortes, co-sharers of his divinity. Is there any bolder prayer? And thirdly, the post-offertory prayer. We ask God to give us some part in partnership with the saints. Into whose consortium we ask you to admit us. I don't suggest an English word for the Latin consortium, which is sometimes translated company.

[27:56]

The Latin emphasizes the idea of co-sharing. As in the offertory, we ask to be co-sharers of divinity. So now we ask to enter the co-sharing of the saints. The repeated appeal to a common destiny with God, transcending our individual lives, is afforded by the Mass together with its central moment of consecration and its complementary moment of communion. All these prayers I came to know through the medium of a missile. a missile so constructed that the English translations ran parallel to the Latin text. I learned to read, to say, to offer the prayers in English.

[29:00]

And then after I began to learn Latin, a subject I studied from age 10 to age 19, I came to know them if not to offer them in Latin. I can't help confessing an admiration for the compactness of the Latin, as well as a sense of impoverishment in the disappearance of the Latin, the disappearance of missiles, and the obfuscation caused by the singing of pallid hymns at the time of the great prayer to be co-sharers of divinity. A liturgy more familiar when I was growing up than it is today was Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament. The star of that service is the poem, Prayer, Pange Lingua, a composition in which Thomas Aquinas showed his truest genius, that of a poet.

[30:11]

I don't know any adequate translation into English. I've tried, without much success, to make one myself. Let me only on this occasion offer a literal approximation of a few verses. Verbum caro, panem verum, verum canem, efecit, translated as true bread is made true flesh. by word flash. The poetry has the concentration of a haiku. It goes on, fit qua sanguis Christi merum et si sensus deficit, ad firmandum quos in gerum sola fides supercit. And pure wine is made the blood of Christ. If the senses fail, faith alone suffices to strengthen a sincere heart.

[31:17]

I've lost the rhyme and the rhythm. The emphasized tension remains between what is perceived and what is believed. And what is decisive? A heart without guile, like Nathaniel's, and faith alone. How Fides sola, faith alone, with echo in another century and another context, is irrelevant. Outside of liturgies and daily prayers, I found the prayers that run through the imitation of Christ to be inspiriting, even though I have read rather than recited them. To read about a person, is not the same as meeting the person, but the reading may excite one's desire to meet.

[32:21]

For example, I quote, invisible God, creator of the world, how wonderfully you act with us, how sweetly and graciously you dispose with your chosen to whom you offer your very self to be consumed in sacrament. from Book 1, Chapter 1. The emphasis on the wonder, sweetness, graciousness of God's action stirs devotion as well as expresses it. I don't mean to disparage other prayers, such as the Psalms, unrivaled in antiquity and range, or such as the ejaculatory evocation of the sacred heart. I speak here only of prayers that have, over a long period, been measurable means for me to petition, celebrate, or thank God.

[33:24]

I need only add that the act of contrition must complete this list. From this selection, you can see how much my approaches to God and my sense of encountering God have been set in certain pathways by the pieties that were almost as natural as breathing in what could now be considered the old church, though one not radically different from the new. No doubt there was greater attention in my upbringing to the relation of the individual to God. more attention than I think would be the case today. But as you can also observe, it was easy to move within the channels constructed by the church. It was within the community that God spoke and was spoken to.

[34:29]

I've had the sense that when speaking tonight I might almost be expected to speak of epiphanies, moments when the grandeur of God or the force of his love enveloped me. As you can infer from what I've already said, my encounters with God have mostly been on lines already laid out for me, not special occasions. But I will speak of three times that were special. Is it a trick of a Trinitarian to think in threes, or do things fall gracefully into such patterns? First, in 1947, age 20, I was doing a postgraduate year at Cambridge University.

[35:37]

And during the spring vacation, visited Capri, Rome, and Lourdes. It was Lourdes that made the greatest impression. The shops selling rosaries and postcards jostled each other like hawkers in a bazaar. Aloof from the sordid commercial scene it generated, the grotto was unsullied. And the worshippers, flocking there by the thousand, were serious, intent, united in prayer. I saw no physical miracle. Lord itself, the peaceful assembling of people from all parts of the world, was a moral miracle, testifying to the power of God.

[36:40]

Ten years later, in the fall of 1957, I was practicing law in Boston, and to tell the truth, bored with the minutiae that make up the day of an associate in a large law firm. Dan and Sydney Callahan, then graduate students at Harvard, told me of a wonderful place in Bethlehem, Connecticut where one could spend the weekend without work or other distractions and find spiritual refreshment. In this way, I discovered Regina Laudis, then a priory of a foundation in France. I had never, as an adult, been on a retreat. And when I had heard of retreats, thought there were too many lectures. At Regina Laudis, there were no lectures.

[37:49]

Only, if one wanted, conversations with Sister Prisca, Mother Jerome, or the prioress, very Reverend Mother Benedictus. Your founder, the founder of Mount Xavier, was no longer on the scene, but was reverently remembered. The thread binding the day together was the office sung in choir by the nuns. One could walk, read, meditate as one chose. It was a place for me of spiritual refreshment and reorientation. I came back to it several times in the next three years. Without the experience of it, the experience of responding to God in the context of such a community, I do not think I would have been ready to make the most important professional change in my life, to move from busily pursuing the business of law to teaching at Notre Dame on a schedule that permitted research in depth on problems of moral theology.

[39:09]

In 1965, now at Notre Dame, I published Contraception, a history of its treatment by the Catholic theologians and canonists. And as a consequence, became a consultant to the Papal Commission on Problems of the Family. I participated in a number of sessions of the commission in which contraception was freely and fairly discussed. An unanticipated benefit of being in Rome for the commission was that I was also there for the fourth and final session of the Second Vatican Council. This experience is the third that I mark as special. I have already commemorated it in the luster of our country and draw on that description. Those of us who had never seen a council, and none of us had, were familiar with the theology that treated as the last word in faith and morals the determinations of a council promulgated with the concurrence of the pope.

[40:30]

Pictorial images of councils presented vast and still assemblages of learned males. In some paintings, a light shone or a dove representing the Holy Spirit of it above the solemn faces. The images were visual embodiments of the pouring out of grace upon the deliberations, which resembled the reception of revelation rather than a parliament of planners. What we found, in fact, was a legislature in action. A legislature with a right, center, and left. A legislature with a variety of committees composing legislation, compromising disputes, considering thousands of amendments. A legislature of bishops guided by staffs of experts. A legislature interacting with the executive power possessed by the folk.

[41:35]

a legislature surrounded by lobbyists on every issue. The conciliar sessions themselves took place in the great basilica of St. Peter, a space suited to the size of the assembly, over 2,000 bishops. The side altars of the basilica were turned into coffee bars, where over an espresso one could engage in an argument with other participants. At the end of each day's session, there were press conferences, lunches, cocktail parties, dinners. The work of the council went on not only in the nave of St. Peter, not only in its coffee bars, but around the town, in religious houses, in hotels, in embassies, in Roman congregations, and in the old palace of the Vatican. The experience of the council was the experience of a demythologized church.

[42:41]

Those experienced in biblical studies knew that in the documents gathered in scripture, God spoke through human tongues in human voices. Now the same phenomenon was observed in the flesh, as it were. The council was the work of human beings. Faith would accept its conclusions as the will of God. But the conclusions did not come in a disembodied voice from heaven, or carved on stone tablets. Je habes one des hommes, God needs human beings. a French film of the day was entitled. At Vatican II, I saw how God works through human beings. In the course of my service on the Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit, I have found that if I deal promptly with each case as it is presented,

[43:54]

I have time to write on other subjects. That time I have used, for example, in the lust of our country, to trace the development and triumph of Vatican II, of the doctrine of religious liberty, of the right given by God to human nature and confirmed by the conduct of Christ in proclaiming his message, the right of every person to form his or her religious beliefs free of physical or psychological compulsion. Beyond that kind of exposition, which was at once historical, legal, and theological, I have sometimes found solace in composing poetry, which is largely, though not wholly, unpublished. Permit me to quote now from The Fish Wheel, a poem celebrating the ordinary ways of salvation. A fishwheel is a wooden contraption I have seen inserted in the rivers of Alaska as a way of catching salmon.

[45:07]

I describe its operations exactly as it works, and at the same time use it metaphorically. The fishwheel, anchored to the shore by sturdy guy wires The fish wheel floats on its log raft and creaks rhythmically as the strong, muddy current turns it. The wire baskets on the wheel scoop up the salmon who swim in and spin them into the bin that is their way station. Without water, the wheel will not turn. Without the wheel, The fish will not be caught. Without the fish, the wheel will be wasted. And the water rush to no purpose. The fish wheel is the church.

[46:12]

The fish are us. The water is the grace of God. Do any of these ways of encountering God Prepare me for the encounter that will follow death. I doubt it. Eye has not seen, tongue has not told what is beyond. Metaphors don't bring us there. We do know, retrospectively as it were, that after we were conceived, we spent nine months submerged. unable to imagine the world beyond the womb. Birth was a transformation and a continuation of life before birth. Will it be that way after death?

[47:15]

So I believe and hope and trust in God who gives me life. So I want to thank all of you, really, for being here, because I think we experience a way of encountering one another and God through John's presentation and through himself as through ourselves. Does anybody have any questions or additions or subtractions they want to make? your initial discourse on communicating to God, right?

[48:20]

It seems to me that there is one role that was not mentioned, and that is involved whereby we think, which is not even a word, sometimes even a vowel. And yet, we do think, think in terms of words and characters. Well, I think that's a perfectly valid point that you're making. I guess I was thinking of forms of thought where the thought was of God or a response to God rather than All thought, which of course takes up a variety of topics and may reflect the presence of God, but it's not something one is conscious of as one solves a problem in mathematics or even as one looks at a brief and also

[49:30]

Well, I'd say he's engaged in preparing himself for work that can be of great value to other human beings and also can be harmed by other human beings and that everything depends on the way he goes about and undertaking to be a lawyer. I have seen people of great courage and rectitude, achieve many good things as lawyers. I've also seen the bad work of bad lawyers. So it's no guarantee one way or the other, but I would congratulate him on doing it, not being discouraged that it's that late.

[50:49]

Well, I don't want to get into all the possible philosophical variations of material. I use it, I think, pretty bluntly as the opposite of physical, the opposite of something that's in space and time. And I do think that the brain is material and the billions of neurons are material and form and are the reason we're able to think, but I don't identify the thought with the action of the neurons.

[52:10]

And I do feel the appropriate analogy is the difference between ink or type and the thought that's expressed by ink or type. You could say all writing can be reduced to what is written with a pen or pencil or typewriter or whatever. If you didn't have those little dots on paper, you wouldn't have any writing. But obviously the writing The thought of the writing is distinct from those little dots, and I believe that's true of human thought. So I would cheerfully say the brain is material, but I would not think the thought was material. Old work, old work is being here.

[53:18]

But the thing that's sustaining me, both the work that you're doing, both metaphysical and everything else, not only for ourselves, but for God. You know, the idea is, how about in years to come, when we offer up these things to you to play with, Well, I'll tell you, in my own experience, I've met relatively few people who I have thought had truly philosophical minds, metaphysical minds, if you like. One was the person who introduced me to the study of Thomas Aquinas. That was Vincent Smith at Catholic University. And there are a few Vincent Smiths in this world. But I think it was a mistake to do as we used to do, have all students of the Catholic College take a set of courses in philosophy.

[54:28]

People just don't have the instinct for it. And I think it's a mistake to think that's the only way one can, that it's the only way reality is structured or the only way to reach reality. So I would like to see more attention paid, but at the same time, I feel it's going to be a limited group of people that will be capable of doing well in it. Yeah. I think we're proving to the public that we need to do that. Well, I touched on it indirectly in saying, at times I think I could perceive it in my own life, but I hesitate very much to impose that interpretation.

[55:43]

And even more so, I hesitate to impose it on large social events so that if someone believes they see the pattern and have some reason for disclosing that perception. I can't say they're wrong, but I think it's awfully difficult to look at past history and say this was providential. I remember one of my old friends, an old theological friend, Ed Bernard, who used to argue that Joan of Arc was providentially provided to the French to save France from undergoing the English Reformation. Well, that seems to me a very difficult thesis to maintain.

[56:44]

But there are many such interpretations that are attempted. But since we don't need to do it, I, on the whole, I think I'd abstain myself. Following up on that, the experience, least experience, of course, in our country is to see people, some in America, some in Reality, which are well in the neighborhood, and have a wonderful life. So I just don't want to spend a year talking about that. To see people whole, and to see people sharing their hearts, I think, just like we're saying in New York. We need to evolve, definitely evolve, to live in a history where we would be living and moving beyond, you know, ongoing.

[57:54]

Well, I certainly agree with you. In moments of tragedy, some things become much clearer and one can see patterns and perhaps rightly see them. And just as moments of joy can be epiphanies, so can moments of terrible sadness. John, very good. We appreciate, I think, or helps us to appreciate the extraordinariness of the ordinary dimensions in our life. That God's presence is not simply a static presence, but a very active presence, not telling us what to do and what not to do, to encourage us really to love God, love ourselves, love our neighbors, and do with a great joy and gratitude whatever it is that we do do, and all that surrounds us.

[59:13]

Now, Compline is very brief, and we always tend to kind of lose people, so it would be good if you could stand up and jiggle, but don't do it. We'll just start Compline right now. After Compton, we go downstairs for an antiphon to Our Lady, and then if you would simply follow us up to the refectory, we have some light refreshments.

[60:33]

Oh, oh, [...] O God, the Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. I don't know. I don't. He's the last one I'll ever know.

[64:07]

I love the old man and he's the one that I should sweetly call. The girl that she tells my heart is the one that moves my heart. I love the old man and he's the one that I should sweetly call. Who prays for you from the corner of your heart. And I will hold you in my [...] heart. What better place to be to escape out of mercy and be happy? For as long as I live, do not want to let me rise up.

[65:16]

It is the law of man's nature to pursue what wants to be loved. But I'm not a man who can pick this way or that way. It doesn't matter what's true or false. What can break us that we can swear to stay? It doesn't matter what's true or false. You have opened my heart and made me whole. And I have found peace no more. I will hardly ever see these hands, feet, arms, and walls, for I knew a lot about earthquake when you were not insane. When you were not seeing,

[66:25]

And a light that shall not be all mine, Turned to the Lord my God, But to no one of my kind. Be it he who will break from the sin Of the God of my foresees, and his Lord, See my spirit You will not be buried, but be gathered from the dead. All of Canaan will die and die in spite of thee. Lord, I would lay my heart at thy feet, but this very day it will not be so. I will not forget all that was done, and the troubles and all that will be. It is for you, it is for you, it is for you.

[67:35]

You have the light in His hands, won't make you blue. You have seen the heart of the Maker, I am with thee. You have said, I am with you. And I believe the Lord is with you. I love you, Lord, we love each other more. You're not there yet, you've got to go and check everywhere. What are you waiting for? [...] You're not there yet, you've got to go and Are you still listening? O come, O come, let us adore Him O come, [...] O come, let us adore Him

[69:27]

Lord of Lords, I beseech Thee, Lord of Lords, and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory, forever and ever. Amen. Now, now, we beseech you, O Lord God of hosts, who I call upon all spirits of the world, let your holy ego dwell with the people of your people, and may your blessing be with us all. We ask this through Christ. I need more water.

[80:38]

What are you talking about? Yeah, I know. Can I have a look at it?

[83:24]

I just have to look at it. I don't get it. Let's go through those.

[86:34]

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