Are you a Christian whose blood pressure rises during the fall because your congregation talks about money for a week or two this season? Are you a pastor who is expected to deliver a message about giving so that the church can create a budget (which seems to be a conflict of interest because it affects your bottom line)? Are you a leader in a congregation who feels pressure to get members of a congregation to "step up" in their giving because you stress out about having to make difficult decisions about program cuts, staff cuts or whether you can keep the church building open?
I do not have the answers to the questions that riddle congregations and their pastors in relation to their resources. My goal is to understand the variables involved in giving and that in my preaching I can connect the generosity of God to a Christian's own response in giving. My goal is to diffuse the fear from giving so that giving can be joyful--which parallels my understanding that God gives out of joy.
Last year, I reflected on the theories why people don't give. I am planning to study a book that examines church giving trends. With the help of my colleague, Pastor Orv Jacobson, I've changed my approach yet again this year. Interim ministry has freed me to change my approaches because giving does little to affect my bottom line in ministry. I will be in a different congregation in 2011.
What startled me in my reflection and practices was my negative approach to giving in the life of a Christian and in a community. I do not mean that I've issued threats related to giving or delivered a negative tone in any of my stewardship preaching. However, if I approach people trying to convince people to give, or I join congregation leaders in merely examining why people aren't giving, I'm not giving people an opportunity for growth. What I've essentially done is offered critique without offering a positive alternative.
Think about what many congregations ask their members to do. There's a hope that people in the congregation will tithe--give 10 percent of their income to God's work through the congregation. My experience has shown that not many people in congregations tithe, yet there is a great respect for people who do tithe. Supposedly that is what people in the congregation work toward. I'm not sure if leaders and pastors expect this kind of giving growth through osmosis, because I usually see little, if any support for giving growth in congregational life. Congregations ask their members to tithe, or to commit to a one percent increase in giving in the coming year. The one percent growth can be a difficult challenge, especially if that household is made up of newly intentional givers.
In the discussion with Pastor Orv, here's what we planned.
1. Ask people to try tithing (see Malachi 3) or growing a percentage for a short period of time. Like three months. There will be no "prosperity gospel" promises, like your business will improve or your possessions will increase or your crops will be better. I will rejoice with them if it does happen, but I won't make those kind of promises.
2. Ask people who try giving growth to write down some regular reflections so they can have a prayerful, thoughtful and learning approach to giving.
3. Check in with the people who are trying giving growth--share a little mentoring.
4. Don't give judgment to people who say they decide not to tithe anymore after three months. At least they tried.
5. Keep the identity of the givers (my congregation already does this) and written reflections anonymous and share those reflections with others in hopes that they may learn.
We have three takers (so far) to try tithing for three months since I issued the invitation eight days ago. The blessing for me is the conversation with these people about their faith, their household, and their vocation--conversations I would not have had otherwise. It makes me think the church has created a culture of orphans (in terms of giving) because giving has been clouded by fear.
This idea has already been a win because of the great connections with people about their faith. If you try something similar to this in your congregation, I would love to learn what you learn. If you want to try tithing for three months and want to share your reflections, please let me know. I always find it a blessing to learn about the generosity of God and how that generosity is lived through God's people.
Monday, September 27, 2010
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Sermon: Why are THESE PEOPLE my neighbors?
Joshua 9
Luke 10: 25-37
People who attend a worship service have come a long way in their understanding of who their neighbors are. For decades and sometimes centuries, what it meant to be part of a congregation in North America was to be part of an ethnic enclave of people (some of these enclaves still exist, and new enclaves are forming). These enclaves may have had some interaction with other enclaves, but it was easy to have social and cultural norms reinforced, especially during church. If you wonder how this ethnic cultural reinforcement works think of the movie My Big Fat Greek Wedding. The Finns had their own church, the Germans had their own church, the English had their own church, the African Americans had their own church, the Scots had their own church, the Norwegians had their own church, the Danes had their own church. Some people in this congregation may have a memory of a marriage or a relationship that was considered dangerous because a Norwegian married a Swede, a Roman Catholic married a Lutheran, or if someone of Northern European descent married someone of Asian descent. Sometimes boundaries aren't negotiated on ethnicity, but political affiliation or theological perspective.
The challenges continue, though the scope of that challenge has changed. The understanding of how we evolve in our relationships with neighbors is often conditioned by recent history and the stress we experience in the world which we live. When we experience stress in relationships, it is tempting to gain immediate relief in those relationships rather than attempt to negotiate their complexity. One of my favorite past times in the midst of stress in relating to my neighbors is to engage in some righteous indignation about the superiority of my perspective. In my Big Fat Greek Wedding, when a Greek father is considering the stress that his Greek daughter is marrying a non Greek man, Costa Portakales directs some disgust to his future son in law in Greek, "my people were developing philosophy while your people were swinging from trees." Sometimes people will join me in my anger, and for a few minutes we experience relief. Other times I pause and reflect on my stress, and realize that I am a fool. Sometimes I don't want to consider that God looks out for my neighbor.
In the midst of the stress of negotiating relationships that we do not understand, we go to our principles of faithful living. Christians go to church, gather in Christian community, and study the Bible as a means of negotiating the world in which we live. The Bible often provides us with a foundational understanding of what it means to relate to God and one another. Some biblical writings are easier to negotiate with others. "You shall not kill" is little easier for most people to reconcile than "you shall love your neighbor as yourself." The question posed by the "lawyer" in Jesus' parable of the Good Samaritan reflects how challenging neighbor relationships can be, because we struggle to relate to the identity of our neighbor. Are our neighbors merely our kin? Does our roster of neighbors include only the people who live in close proximity? How is proximity defined? By city, county or national boundary, maybe college football fan base? Going to University of Washington's Husky Stadium for a football game yesterday it was interesting to see who is the neighbor of a Husky fan. Cougars are not neighbors (even though Cougars and Huskies are neighbors in Washington). Ducks are not neighbors (even though their state is adjacent, and Ducks live among Huskies. (Any mixed marriages of colleges out there)? But Michigan Wolverines? They aren't in as close proximity as Ducks or Cougars, but they were named as neighbors. Why? Because they beat the Notre Dame Fighting Irish! Is our neighbor the person who shares the same ethnic heritage? Is our neighbor the person who shares the same political or theological perspective? In North America, we are able to deal with our understanding of neighbor a little differently based on the sheer fact that we have the ability to move if we don't like how the relationships are going with our neighbors. We move to the suburbs, then we move back to the cities, and so on. Understanding of what it means to be a neighbor is constantly shifting.
The people of the Ancient Near East, in the times of the Bible, did not have the means of mobility that we do. In some ways, we are both mobile societies, but one thing we have in America is space, and lots of it. But people in Bible times have the same struggles with defining the meaning of neighbor as we do, with a lot less space with which to work. If you travel to Israel and Palestine one can see the diversity of people living in a very tight space. When we go to the Bible for guidance in the stressful world of negotiating neighbor relationships, the Bible isn't particularly unified about who our neighbor really is, and I think neighbor confusion is reflected in our public discourse. Sometimes that confusion comes to a violent head, as we have seen recently in the fervor related to Pastor Terry Jones and his congregation in Florida creating an event to burn the Quran, the Muslim holy book. This seemingly insignificant local event became known worldwide, because it served as a lightning rod for the stress related to how Americans negotiate a mosque being built near Ground Zero in New York City. The vitriol exchanged in public discourse is stressful in itself. It's tempting to blame "the media" for the fever pitch coverage of the topic, but often times "the media" reflects the state of the public. This is a relationship of neighbors, and it's not simple, especially when lives are on the line.
How do Christians negotiate a complex web of relationships? How does God?
I offer you the Bible story in Joshua 9 as a means to think about God's action in the midst of complex neighbor relationships. The story tells readers about the Gibeonites, a group who lived in close proximity to Joshua's people in the land of Canaan. They were a group set up to be exterminated according to God's call to Joshua. His conquest in Jericho and Ai were already documented and a reputation for their strength was well known throughout the region. The Gibeonites were aware that Joshua's people were to show hospitality to those who lived far away from Canaan, so they made it look like they came from far away in order that they had a better chance to establish a covenant between the two peoples. The Gibeonites used deception, and the story documents that Israel did not consult God in their dealings with the Gibeonites. A covenant was established between the peoples. When Israel discovered they had been deceived, the leaders were furious they had been tricked, and wanted to destroy them. But Joshua believed they should hold to the oath to God about peace with the Gibeonites.
The circumstances of neighbor relationships change in Joshua 9. An underdog people is spared in the midst of Israel taking possession of the land of Canaan. Why does God not intervene in this story if all the peoples of Canaan are supposed to be destroyed? Is God not only looking out for Israel, but looking out for people who are not part of Israel? Joshua 9 reveals that neighbor relationships are not as cut and dried as we think, and actually in flux. It also reveals that God is looking out for our neighbors, even the neighbors who are different than us. Circumstances matter. Lives hang in the balance. Circumstances matter in Joshua 9, and they matter in public discourse around the mosque near Ground Zero. Listen Up TV www.listenuptv.com has been reporting on the complex web of relationships around Ground Zero--people who have lost loved ones on 9/11/01, as well as Muslim and Christian leaders close to the situation. Their video clip is worth your time (with more forthcoming). Though Jesus gives his followers an ethic of being a neighbor is rooted in mercy,
today's examples provide us insight to the complexity of what it means to be a neighbor, to show mercy in the midst of anxiety, fear, vitriol and demeaning public discourse is an extraordinary act of faith. We cannot do it alone.
If we think of Jesus' last days on Earth, Jesus acted with mercy in the midst of fear, anxiety, vitriol. The parable of the Good Samaritan in Luke 10 is a microcosm and foreshadowing of Jesus' death and resurrection. Jesus had the power of God to crush his enemies and punish those who betrayed him, yet he extended mercy to all of them. Though retribution for the injustice showed to Jesus was justified, Jesus' resurrection overcomes the fear, anxiety, vitriol and demeaning act of crucifixion and brings love and forgiveness to the world.
Ground Zero is hundreds of miles away from much of the US and can seem distant, yet the discussion still matters. What can Christians do in response to the mercy of God in Christ? Faith in Christ is one thing. Keeping public discourse calm in the midst of anxiety is another. Our everyday actions may seem small, but they matter. St. Luke's Evangelical Lutheran Church (ELCA) showed some mercy to their Jewish and Muslim neighbors by posting a message of peace to their neighbors of different traditions on their church sign (quite a contrast to Burn A Koran Day in Florida). How is God calling you to share mercy in the world? How is God calling communities of faith? The life, death and resurrection of Christ reveals to us each day that the power of mercy can transform the world.
Luke 10: 25-37
People who attend a worship service have come a long way in their understanding of who their neighbors are. For decades and sometimes centuries, what it meant to be part of a congregation in North America was to be part of an ethnic enclave of people (some of these enclaves still exist, and new enclaves are forming). These enclaves may have had some interaction with other enclaves, but it was easy to have social and cultural norms reinforced, especially during church. If you wonder how this ethnic cultural reinforcement works think of the movie My Big Fat Greek Wedding. The Finns had their own church, the Germans had their own church, the English had their own church, the African Americans had their own church, the Scots had their own church, the Norwegians had their own church, the Danes had their own church. Some people in this congregation may have a memory of a marriage or a relationship that was considered dangerous because a Norwegian married a Swede, a Roman Catholic married a Lutheran, or if someone of Northern European descent married someone of Asian descent. Sometimes boundaries aren't negotiated on ethnicity, but political affiliation or theological perspective.
The challenges continue, though the scope of that challenge has changed. The understanding of how we evolve in our relationships with neighbors is often conditioned by recent history and the stress we experience in the world which we live. When we experience stress in relationships, it is tempting to gain immediate relief in those relationships rather than attempt to negotiate their complexity. One of my favorite past times in the midst of stress in relating to my neighbors is to engage in some righteous indignation about the superiority of my perspective. In my Big Fat Greek Wedding, when a Greek father is considering the stress that his Greek daughter is marrying a non Greek man, Costa Portakales directs some disgust to his future son in law in Greek, "my people were developing philosophy while your people were swinging from trees." Sometimes people will join me in my anger, and for a few minutes we experience relief. Other times I pause and reflect on my stress, and realize that I am a fool. Sometimes I don't want to consider that God looks out for my neighbor.
In the midst of the stress of negotiating relationships that we do not understand, we go to our principles of faithful living. Christians go to church, gather in Christian community, and study the Bible as a means of negotiating the world in which we live. The Bible often provides us with a foundational understanding of what it means to relate to God and one another. Some biblical writings are easier to negotiate with others. "You shall not kill" is little easier for most people to reconcile than "you shall love your neighbor as yourself." The question posed by the "lawyer" in Jesus' parable of the Good Samaritan reflects how challenging neighbor relationships can be, because we struggle to relate to the identity of our neighbor. Are our neighbors merely our kin? Does our roster of neighbors include only the people who live in close proximity? How is proximity defined? By city, county or national boundary, maybe college football fan base? Going to University of Washington's Husky Stadium for a football game yesterday it was interesting to see who is the neighbor of a Husky fan. Cougars are not neighbors (even though Cougars and Huskies are neighbors in Washington). Ducks are not neighbors (even though their state is adjacent, and Ducks live among Huskies. (Any mixed marriages of colleges out there)? But Michigan Wolverines? They aren't in as close proximity as Ducks or Cougars, but they were named as neighbors. Why? Because they beat the Notre Dame Fighting Irish! Is our neighbor the person who shares the same ethnic heritage? Is our neighbor the person who shares the same political or theological perspective? In North America, we are able to deal with our understanding of neighbor a little differently based on the sheer fact that we have the ability to move if we don't like how the relationships are going with our neighbors. We move to the suburbs, then we move back to the cities, and so on. Understanding of what it means to be a neighbor is constantly shifting.
The people of the Ancient Near East, in the times of the Bible, did not have the means of mobility that we do. In some ways, we are both mobile societies, but one thing we have in America is space, and lots of it. But people in Bible times have the same struggles with defining the meaning of neighbor as we do, with a lot less space with which to work. If you travel to Israel and Palestine one can see the diversity of people living in a very tight space. When we go to the Bible for guidance in the stressful world of negotiating neighbor relationships, the Bible isn't particularly unified about who our neighbor really is, and I think neighbor confusion is reflected in our public discourse. Sometimes that confusion comes to a violent head, as we have seen recently in the fervor related to Pastor Terry Jones and his congregation in Florida creating an event to burn the Quran, the Muslim holy book. This seemingly insignificant local event became known worldwide, because it served as a lightning rod for the stress related to how Americans negotiate a mosque being built near Ground Zero in New York City. The vitriol exchanged in public discourse is stressful in itself. It's tempting to blame "the media" for the fever pitch coverage of the topic, but often times "the media" reflects the state of the public. This is a relationship of neighbors, and it's not simple, especially when lives are on the line.
How do Christians negotiate a complex web of relationships? How does God?
I offer you the Bible story in Joshua 9 as a means to think about God's action in the midst of complex neighbor relationships. The story tells readers about the Gibeonites, a group who lived in close proximity to Joshua's people in the land of Canaan. They were a group set up to be exterminated according to God's call to Joshua. His conquest in Jericho and Ai were already documented and a reputation for their strength was well known throughout the region. The Gibeonites were aware that Joshua's people were to show hospitality to those who lived far away from Canaan, so they made it look like they came from far away in order that they had a better chance to establish a covenant between the two peoples. The Gibeonites used deception, and the story documents that Israel did not consult God in their dealings with the Gibeonites. A covenant was established between the peoples. When Israel discovered they had been deceived, the leaders were furious they had been tricked, and wanted to destroy them. But Joshua believed they should hold to the oath to God about peace with the Gibeonites.
The circumstances of neighbor relationships change in Joshua 9. An underdog people is spared in the midst of Israel taking possession of the land of Canaan. Why does God not intervene in this story if all the peoples of Canaan are supposed to be destroyed? Is God not only looking out for Israel, but looking out for people who are not part of Israel? Joshua 9 reveals that neighbor relationships are not as cut and dried as we think, and actually in flux. It also reveals that God is looking out for our neighbors, even the neighbors who are different than us. Circumstances matter. Lives hang in the balance. Circumstances matter in Joshua 9, and they matter in public discourse around the mosque near Ground Zero. Listen Up TV www.listenuptv.com has been reporting on the complex web of relationships around Ground Zero--people who have lost loved ones on 9/11/01, as well as Muslim and Christian leaders close to the situation. Their video clip is worth your time (with more forthcoming). Though Jesus gives his followers an ethic of being a neighbor is rooted in mercy,
today's examples provide us insight to the complexity of what it means to be a neighbor, to show mercy in the midst of anxiety, fear, vitriol and demeaning public discourse is an extraordinary act of faith. We cannot do it alone.
If we think of Jesus' last days on Earth, Jesus acted with mercy in the midst of fear, anxiety, vitriol. The parable of the Good Samaritan in Luke 10 is a microcosm and foreshadowing of Jesus' death and resurrection. Jesus had the power of God to crush his enemies and punish those who betrayed him, yet he extended mercy to all of them. Though retribution for the injustice showed to Jesus was justified, Jesus' resurrection overcomes the fear, anxiety, vitriol and demeaning act of crucifixion and brings love and forgiveness to the world.
Ground Zero is hundreds of miles away from much of the US and can seem distant, yet the discussion still matters. What can Christians do in response to the mercy of God in Christ? Faith in Christ is one thing. Keeping public discourse calm in the midst of anxiety is another. Our everyday actions may seem small, but they matter. St. Luke's Evangelical Lutheran Church (ELCA) showed some mercy to their Jewish and Muslim neighbors by posting a message of peace to their neighbors of different traditions on their church sign (quite a contrast to Burn A Koran Day in Florida). How is God calling you to share mercy in the world? How is God calling communities of faith? The life, death and resurrection of Christ reveals to us each day that the power of mercy can transform the world.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Movie Reflection: Get Low
As a called and ordained minister of the Church of Christ, and by his authority, I therefore declare to you the entire forgiveness of all of your sins, in the name of the Father, and of the +Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
For 10 years of my young life, The Brief Order of Confession and Forgiveness, page 77 (coincidental to Mt 18:21-22?) in the The Lutheran Book of Worship (aka The Green Hymnal or the LBW) was my regular contact with the concept of forgiveness. I knew the page well, considering how the page curled from regular use, my ink-pen stained finger prints dotted the page, and the growing fuzzy edges prevented paper cuts. The LBW provided tactile reminders of sins committed and assurance of God's love in Christ, like a nun kneels and rubs her fingers along beads of a rosary. The "Brief Order of Confession and Forgiveness" was usually the first act of public worship each Sunday morning. Alongside the sermon, the confession had the most impact on me in early Christian life. This practice suited me not because it's fun, but because I am a naturally reflective person. Where have I been? Where am I going? What is my relationship with God? I could ponder those questions for years, but in the span of a few minutes, my reflections and redemption took shape. Even though I have felt the impact of sin and the liberation of redemption, the power of confession and forgiveness can still be elusive.
Imagine reflecting upon haunting sins and the elusiveness of forgiveness for a span of 40-plus years. Though I could only imagine that kind of torment, the storytelling of the film Get Low took me inside one man's understanding of love, sin, forgiveness, penance and redemption--and how his thoughts and actions influenced others' views and actions. The film is a 1930's period piece from the Bible Belt with an interesting connection to my own faith tradition in the Evangelical Lutheran Church In America. The film made me realize the gift of confession and forgiveness in the life of the church and my own faith, but it also made me realize how the church's rituals and teaching can be deficient in people's real lives. The confession and forgiveness practice can be programmed and sometimes rote, and life in between the rituals and proclamations is much messier than people (clergy included) care to often times understand.
Though forgiveness is the driving theme, the story telling is well crafted and the character development, cinematography, and top notch Bluegrass music (Jerry Douglass and Alison Krauss, to name a few) maximize the theme's impact. Because the film is based on a true story, some details could not be fictionally created (you can't make this stuff up!). After 40-plus years living the life of a hermit, Felix Bush (Robert Duvall) comes to town wanting to throw a funeral party, his own, before he dies. The meaning of this funeral party is revealed through his interactions with a local funeral director Frank Quinn (Bill Murray), his assistant (Lucas Black), two preachers, and an old friend (Sissy Spacek), and other town folk. For Frank Quinn, the funeral is unorthodox, but an opportunity to revive his sagging funeral business. For his assistant, his sense of right and wrong is constantly challenged.
A few sub themes worth noting in "Get Low" include the understanding of vocation in the world and how it is shared. Another sub-theme deals with how little people really know about one another--even in a small town. Another involves reflections upon integrity in the midst of personal identity and promises kept. It's one thing to teach, preach or discuss themes of sin, confession, forgiveness, redemption, vocation, relationships, promises, integrity and peace. Video is a special medium--and film story telling is a unique opportunity for impact, with the cinematography, music, and acting interpretation. Not only is the story and it's themes powerful because of the film making quality, but the humor is prevalent and disarming, but not distracting or trite. I can only tell you so much. Go see the film. Take adults. Take teenagers. Take someone you love. Talk about the film with one another. Journal about the film. Blog about the film. Tweet about the film.
For readers in the Puget Sound area, my wife and I viewed the film at Grand Cinema in Tacoma. This was our first trip to the Grand, and it represents all that is good about a trip to the movies--a non-profit cinema with lower prices and smaller concessions, staffed by friendly volunteers in a well-cared for setting both inside and out. We will go back because of the mission and the experience at the Grand.
For 10 years of my young life, The Brief Order of Confession and Forgiveness, page 77 (coincidental to Mt 18:21-22?) in the The Lutheran Book of Worship (aka The Green Hymnal or the LBW) was my regular contact with the concept of forgiveness. I knew the page well, considering how the page curled from regular use, my ink-pen stained finger prints dotted the page, and the growing fuzzy edges prevented paper cuts. The LBW provided tactile reminders of sins committed and assurance of God's love in Christ, like a nun kneels and rubs her fingers along beads of a rosary. The "Brief Order of Confession and Forgiveness" was usually the first act of public worship each Sunday morning. Alongside the sermon, the confession had the most impact on me in early Christian life. This practice suited me not because it's fun, but because I am a naturally reflective person. Where have I been? Where am I going? What is my relationship with God? I could ponder those questions for years, but in the span of a few minutes, my reflections and redemption took shape. Even though I have felt the impact of sin and the liberation of redemption, the power of confession and forgiveness can still be elusive.
Imagine reflecting upon haunting sins and the elusiveness of forgiveness for a span of 40-plus years. Though I could only imagine that kind of torment, the storytelling of the film Get Low took me inside one man's understanding of love, sin, forgiveness, penance and redemption--and how his thoughts and actions influenced others' views and actions. The film is a 1930's period piece from the Bible Belt with an interesting connection to my own faith tradition in the Evangelical Lutheran Church In America. The film made me realize the gift of confession and forgiveness in the life of the church and my own faith, but it also made me realize how the church's rituals and teaching can be deficient in people's real lives. The confession and forgiveness practice can be programmed and sometimes rote, and life in between the rituals and proclamations is much messier than people (clergy included) care to often times understand.
Though forgiveness is the driving theme, the story telling is well crafted and the character development, cinematography, and top notch Bluegrass music (Jerry Douglass and Alison Krauss, to name a few) maximize the theme's impact. Because the film is based on a true story, some details could not be fictionally created (you can't make this stuff up!). After 40-plus years living the life of a hermit, Felix Bush (Robert Duvall) comes to town wanting to throw a funeral party, his own, before he dies. The meaning of this funeral party is revealed through his interactions with a local funeral director Frank Quinn (Bill Murray), his assistant (Lucas Black), two preachers, and an old friend (Sissy Spacek), and other town folk. For Frank Quinn, the funeral is unorthodox, but an opportunity to revive his sagging funeral business. For his assistant, his sense of right and wrong is constantly challenged.
A few sub themes worth noting in "Get Low" include the understanding of vocation in the world and how it is shared. Another sub-theme deals with how little people really know about one another--even in a small town. Another involves reflections upon integrity in the midst of personal identity and promises kept. It's one thing to teach, preach or discuss themes of sin, confession, forgiveness, redemption, vocation, relationships, promises, integrity and peace. Video is a special medium--and film story telling is a unique opportunity for impact, with the cinematography, music, and acting interpretation. Not only is the story and it's themes powerful because of the film making quality, but the humor is prevalent and disarming, but not distracting or trite. I can only tell you so much. Go see the film. Take adults. Take teenagers. Take someone you love. Talk about the film with one another. Journal about the film. Blog about the film. Tweet about the film.
For readers in the Puget Sound area, my wife and I viewed the film at Grand Cinema in Tacoma. This was our first trip to the Grand, and it represents all that is good about a trip to the movies--a non-profit cinema with lower prices and smaller concessions, staffed by friendly volunteers in a well-cared for setting both inside and out. We will go back because of the mission and the experience at the Grand.
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