PARSHAT TERUMAH
(5768)
INSIDE, OUTSIDE
“They shall make an ark of acacia wood, two and half cubit long, a cubit and a half wide, and a cubit and a half high. Overlay it with pure gold – overlay it inside and out – and make upon it a gold molding round about.” (Exodus 25:10-11)
My daughter has a wonderful job in an Orlando resort, working in the recreation department, doing programming for children or helping out at the swimming pool. It is a fancy place with beautiful art and expensive carpeting. One day while staying at the resort, I had to go with my daughter back into the employees-only area to handle some business with the human resources office. This area was far shabbier – older carpeting and bare walls. I walked only a few feet into this area when a security guard stopped me. “She is an employee; she can be back here. But you are not allowed in this area.” So I had to leave and she went on alone.
I understand the need to have an “employee-only” area where paying guests such as me are not welcome. But what was particularly noticeable was the difference in ambiance between the outside where hotel guests came and the inside where only employees came. And this is a hotel that has been wonderful to its employees. But there is a difference between the outside and the inside. This should not surprise me. I have been on the “inside” of hotels, catering halls, restaurants, even a cruise ship. The fancy decorations are saved for the paying guests. Employees and backstage workers have minimal amenities.
This is the way it is in the world of buildings that serve the public. There is the fancy outside the public sees, and there is the employee-area which is utilitarian at best. However, there is one public building that took a very different approach. When Moses gave instructions on building the ancient tabernacle that the Israelites carried through the desert, he insisted that the inside had to match the outside. Both the outside and the inside of the ark had to be overlaid with pure gold. The part of the building nobody saw had to be as beautiful as the part everybody saw. The Rabbis of the Midrash had a phrase for this – tocho kevaro “the inside has to match the outside.”
Rabbinic literature built on this fundamental idea that the inside has to match the outside. “A learned person should be the same on the inside as on the outside.” (Tanhuma Vayakhel 7). “Any student whose inside does not match his outside should not enter the house of study.” (Berachot 28a) A person must not simply develop a certain exterior to show to the world; rather that person must develop those same qualities on the interior where nobody sees. One of the challenges of life is to develop an interior to match our exterior.
Such a match between our inside and our outside is not always easy. Dick Van Dyke sang in the musical Bye Bye Birdie, “Put on a happy face.” Often we must pretend to be what we are really not deep inside. There is a classic story many preachers like to tell. A man goes to a psychologist deeply depressed. “I hate my life. I am so unhappy and I do not know what to do.” The psychologist replies, “You need to cheer up. The circus is in town, and they have a clown named Grumaldi who is very funny. Why don’t you go see Grumaldi? I am sure he will raise your spirits.” The man answers the psychologist, “You do not understand. I am Grumaldi.”
The difficult question is whether we can develop our inner self to match our outer self. If we want people to see us as cheerful and joyous, can we be deep in our inner selves cheerful and joyous. If we want the world to see us as kind and charitable, can we be deep in our inner selves kind and charitable. If we want the world to see us as humble and self-effacing, can we be deep in our inner selves humble and self-effacing. And if we want the world to see us as practitioners of our faith, can we truly feel that religious faith deep in our own souls.
Hotels can afford to be fancy on the outside and simple on the inside. Human beings, if they are to be successful in life, should strive to be the same on the inside as on the outside. That is the lesson of the ancient tabernacle.
PARSHAT TERUMAH
(5767)
MEETING GOD
“Let them make me a sanctuary that I might dwell among them.”
(Exodus 25:8)
Western Civilization has its roots in both Athens and Jerusalem. How we see the world is based on both how the ancient Greek philosophers and the ancient Hebrew prophets saw the world. Western thought combines two very different world outlooks to provide a consistent vision of God and humanity.
To the Greeks, God was an impersonal force. Plato saw God as the Good, the form behind all the forms. Aristotle saw God as the unmoved mover, the agent behind all causation. Neither saw a God one could pray to, argue with, or encounter. To the Greeks God was not a person but an impersonal force. The Greek view appealed to the head but not to the heart.
Not so the Hebrews. In the Bible God is a person. God has a will and encounters people in relationships. Abraham argues with God over Sodom and Gemorrah. Moses sees God on a mountain and comes down a changed man; he must wear a mask to protect people from the strange light coming from his face. The great literary prophets Isaiah, Jeremiah, Amos, and others, meet God as a person and speak passionate words in God’s name. This was a God who touched our hearts.
Later Jewish, Christian, and Moslem thinkers combined the Greek impersonal God and the Biblical personal God. God is the unmoved mover. But God can be encountered in prayer. Combining two very different conceptions of God did not always work well. But out of this combination grew our Western conception of God, one that appeals to both the head and the heart.
If God is a person and not just a force, where can we meet this person? How can we encounter this person? This is the key question in this week’s portion. The Torah this week, and for the next several weeks, describes the building of a place where the Hebrews can meet God. It is called a mishkan (literally “a place of dwelling” from the Hebrew word meaning “to dwell.” The mystical feminine name of God Shekinah comes from the same root.) In English we unusually translate this place a “tabernacle.” The Israelites must build a tabernacle as a place to meet God.
Later the tabernacle will be replaced by a Temple, the great Temple in Jerusalem built by King Solomon and later rebuilt in the days of Ezra. Twice the Temple was built and destroyed; Orthodox Jews pray for the rebuilding of a third Temple. Non-Orthodox Jews including the Conservative Movement no longer pray for the rebuilding of the Temple. We must find an alternative place to meet God.
Some would say that our synagogues ought to be a place to encounter God. For many Jews, synagogues are a mikdash m’at, a small Temple, a place to encounter God. Often people will come into our sanctuary just to sit, even when no formal services are taking place. They want to encounter the person of God. All who care about synagogue life must ask the question: have we built a place to encounter God?
The Rabbis of the Talmud felt that we Jews encounter God through the study of Torah. Wherever Jews discuss words of Torah, there the Shekinah dwells. If we cannot meet God on a mountain as Moses did, we can encounter God through the study of sacred texts. That is why Torah study has become the key to Jewish spirituality.
I believe there are many places where we can encounter God. But there is one particular place, also hinted at in this portion. In the tabernacle, God communicates between the faces of the Cherubim, human-like figures which covered the holy ark. God is between the faces. So it is that whenever we encounter a human being face-to-face, being fully present, there we encounter the face of God. As Jean Valjean sang at the end of the musical Les Miserables, “To love another person is to see the face of God.”
PARSHAT TERUMAH
(5766)
IN THE ZONE
“And you shall hang up the veil from the clasps, that you may bring in there inside the veil the ark of the Testimony; and the veil shall separate for you between the holy place and the most holy.” (Exodus 26:33)
Like many of you, I enjoyed watching the Winter Olympics over the past several weeks. There were many highlights. But let me focus on one moment, the performance of the talented ice skater Sasha Cohen.
Sasha skated to perfection in the short program. You could see it not only in the way she skated but in her eyes. She was totally focused, oblivious to any distractions, hitting all her jumps and outshining every other skater. She finished the evening in the lead. It was an inspiration.
Not so two nights later when she skated her long program. She had fallen during warm up and seemed distracted as the program began. Her eyes looked scared. She fell twice. Then, through shear guts and persistence, she finished by skating beautifully. The gold medal was out of reach, but she won the silver.
What impressed me was a television interview afterwards. The interviewer asked her what happened in the long program. She had admitted that she was not fully focused, not in the zone. So they asked how she was able to continue and win the silver. She replied that it was due to her training. Excellent training raised her to the level of the silver. But it takes something beyond training, almost a moment of grace, to reach that gold medal. One needs to be in the zone.
I wrote something similar about a Miami Hurricane football game a few years ago. I watched the football game on television between the University of Miami Hurricanes and the University of Florida Gators. I watched something happen to the mind of the Hurricane quarterback Brock Berlin. The first half of the game he was unfocused, going through the motions without concentration. At one point he threw the football right into the arms of an opposing player. Early in the third quarter the Canes were down by 23 points and it looked as if they were going to bring in the second string quarterback. Then something mysterious happened. Berlin became focused. He started completing pass after pass. After three unanswered touchdowns, he had tied the game. In the end, the Canes won 38 to 33 in a huge come from behind victory.
Every sports coach in the world wishes they could bottle this change in focus of an athlete. Reporters asked Berlin how he had turned it around. "I asked God for peace: `Lord, just give me peace right now and help me lead my teammates and be able to do something here,'" Berlin said. "He did give me peace and I was able to stay comfortable the whole game."
We have all seen athletes who suddenly are in the zone, able to mentally reach that higher level. There is no guarantee that it will happen; sometimes we train hard but we are mentally not quite there. But then there are times when we reach a higher level, almost as if God takes control of our mind. What is true for athletics is true for many other areas of human endeavor. There are times that I go through the motions of being a rabbi – giving a sermon, counseling an individual, performing a life cycle event. Thanks to training and experience, I am able to do an adequate job, maybe even win a silver medal. But I know that I am not at my best. But other times I am in the zone. It is as if God’s grace is bringing me to a different level. I feel it; I will win a gold medal in rabbi-ing.
I have been looking at the philosophy of Martin Heidegger, a great thinker and one of the founders of twentieth century existentialism. (Sadly, Heidegger never renounced his early flirtation with fascism. Hopefully, we can separate the man’s philosophy from his politics.) His main idea was the notion of dasein, which can be translated as “being there.” Dasein, being fully present, is the goal of authentic human existence. Heidegger admits that no one can be fully there, fully present at all times. The best we can do is train ourselves for such moments of absolute presence.
From ice skating to existential philosophy, there is an important idea lurking here. Perhaps it is symbolized by our portion. There is a holy place. Then there is the holiest place, the Holy of Holies, separated by a curtain. The Holy of Holies is not accessible to everybody at all times (later it would only be open to the High Priest, and only on Yom Kippur.) We can train ourselves to enter the holy place. Then, sometimes God calls us into the Holy of Holies. All we can do is train and be ready. Hopefully we can all have those gold medal moments, when we are truly in the zone.
PARSHAT TERUMAH
(5764)
SPIRITUAL CONNECTIONS
"There I will meet with you and I will commune with you, from above the ark cover, from between the two Cherubim which are upon the ark of testimony."
(Exodus 25:22)
Allow me to share a memory. When I was a college student studying in Israel, I went on a brief vacation to Athens, Greece. I recall one evening wandering the city near the Parthenon, meeting another American several years older than me, and sitting talking for several hours. I do not remember his name, nor have I ever seen him again. I do not believe he was Jewish. But that brief encounter and evening of conversation was influential in pushing me towards a decision I had been considering, to become a rabbi. A chance encounter with a total stranger pushed by life in the direction it was meant to go.
This idea is already found in the Bible. Joseph became lost in his attempt to find his brothers. "A certain man found him and behold, he was wandering in the field, and the man asked him, what do you seek. And he said, I seek my brothers." (Genesis 37:15-16) The man pointed Joseph towards his brothers, who threw him into a pit, leading to a series of events which would result in the Israelites' enslavement in Egypt. A chance encounter with a stranger changed the course of history.
Many New Age thinkers would reply that this is not surprising. There are no coincidences, whatever happens is what was meant to happen. We meet whom we need to meet at each particular moment in life. I am not sure that I totally share the New Age outlook, but I believe there is a touch of truth to the idea of spiritual encounters.
There are certain souls to whom we are connected in a profound way. Perhaps it is the soul of our spouse or lover, the soul of our parents or children, or some other family member. Perhaps it is the soul of a close friend and confidant. Or perhaps it is the soul of a person we meet by a chance encounter, who helps us correct the trajectory of our lives. God sends such people to us to help our soul fulfill its particular mission on earth. Perhaps there are people we meet because, on some spiritual level, we are meant to meet them. We are already connected to them on a spiritual level.
There is a new book on the bestseller list by Mitch Albom, the author of Tuesdays with Maury. The book is entitled The Five People You Meet in Heaven. It tells the story of an elderly man killed in a tragic accident, who then meets a series of people in the next world. Each person explains his or her role in the life of this man. In heaven he learns the purpose of his life and the meaning of his encounters with a series of individuals. He discovers a spiritual connection with other people that goes beyond this physical life.
According to the Torah, humans are created from the dust of the earth, and then animated by the breath of God. Each of us has a physical reality, a body which is born, lives for a certain period, and eventually dies. But each of us also has a spiritual reality, a part of us which goes beyond the physical. It is the part of us that exists after our physical selves are gone. As the Bible teaches, the dust returns to the earth from where it came but the spirit returns to God.
People also encounter other people on this spiritual level. We have soul mates, people who are connected to us in a way that goes beyond the physical. We encounter certain people in our lives, sometimes for a moment and sometimes for a lifetime, who are connected to us in a deep and profound way. They have the ability change our lives.
This idea is shown symbolically in this week’s portion. In the ancient tabernacle two Cherubim were built, golden statues of two humans facing one another. Some saw the Cherubim as two children, while others saw them as a man and a woman. God would speak from between the faces of the two Cherubim. The symbolism is clear; there are moments when two humans meet face to face. In the presence of such a human encounter, God dwells. The spiritual dimension is most present when we connect to other humans on a spiritual level. Our lives are filled with deep spiritual connections, if only we can open our eyes and see them.
PARSHAT TERUMAH
(5763)
LOST IN SPACE
"The curtain shall serve you as a partition between the Holy and the Holy of Holies."
(Exodus 26:33)
It has been a sad week for our nation. Seven brave astronauts perished when the space shuttle Columbia disintegrated over Texas while coming in for a landing. NASA is already studying how this happened and how it can be prevented in the future. Spiritual seekers ask the deeper question - Why? Where was God and why did God allow this to happen?
For Jews who love Israel, the tragedy took on a particular poignancy. One of the seven was Ilan Ramon, the first Israeli astronaut. He saw himself as a representative of the Jewish people, requesting kosher food in space and carrying with him a painting by a boy who perished in the holocaust. That boy is gone from this earth. Now the painting and the astronaut who carried it into space are also gone from this earth. Where are they?
At our Shabbat services we will quote the words of John Gillespie Magee, Jr., a pilot who perished in World War II. Before his death at the age of nineteen, Magee wrote a poem entitled High Flight. He began his poem with the line that President Reagan used after the Challenger disaster
"Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth."
He ended with the words:
"And while with silent lifting mind, I've trod,
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand and touched the face of God."
When we go into space do we touch the face of God? Decades ago the cosmonauts from the former Soviet Union bolstered their nation's atheist policy by proclaiming, "We went into space and looked for God, but He wasn't there." Many today would see this tragedy as proof that there is no God, and that when we leave this earthly existence we are no more.
What the world needs to hear is that God is beyond space! At the memorial service in Houston, Texas for the astronauts, the rabbi who spoke quoted the traditional Jewish words of comfort, "HaMakom (May God) grant you comfort with the other mourners of Zion and Jerusalem." The word for God HaMakom literally means "The Place." There is no place that can hold God; God is beyond the physical limitations of space. To put it differently, God is not within space, but space is within God.
In this week's Torah reading we read of the building of a portable tent that the Israelites would carry through the wilderness. The tent was divided up into spaces with various degrees of holiness. There was the holy area in the center. And then divided by a curtain, was the holiest area, known as the Holy of Holies. About fifteen feet cubed, this is where the two tablets of the Ten Commandments were kept. But did God dwell in this confined space?
The Torah does not say "Build me a tabernacle and I will dwell in it." Rather it says, "Build me a tabernacle and I will dwell among you." God does not occupy a particular space. Rather, when we do God's work, God dwells among us. Whether it is building a beautiful tent to carry through the desert, or sending human beings hurling beyond the earth to explore the frontiers of space, when we do God's work God dwells among us. And God dwelt among the seven astronauts on that day.
So where are these seven brave men and women now? They no longer exist in this world of space. They have returned to God Who made them, to a spiritual dimension beyond space, a place of light and unity and joy. When they began their journey we can say that God was with them. Now that they have come home, we can say that they are with God. May they rest in peace and may their memories be for a blessing.
PARSHAT TERUMAH
(5762)
FOUR ATTITUDES TOWARDS MONEY - PART 2
"Speak to the children of Israel that they take for me an offering, of every man whose heart makes him willing you shall take an offering." (Exodus 25:2)
This message, a continuation of last week (Mishpatim 5762), is taken from my new book The Ten Journeys of Life.
The Scarcity Mind-set
"What is mine is mine, what is yours is yours,- this is a mediocre person. Some say this is the way of Sodom."The Torah describes the destruction of the evil cities of Sodom and Gemorrah. What was so evil about these two cities? The rabbis teach that their evil ways were based on their attitude toward money.
The people of Sodom hoarded their money. When Abraham’s nephew Lot moved into town, they welcomed him. He was a wealthy man, and they saw an economic advantage in having him as a neighbor. However, poor people, beggars and visitors without money to spend were not welcome in Sodom.
According to the rabbinic midrash, when a certain poor man came into town a young woman was kind to him and shared her money. When the people heard this, they attacked and tortured her (Sanhedrin 109b). Helping the poor, they believed, would set a bad precedent for the community; beggars and poor people would move into town. The Torah teaches that "God heard her cry (Genesis 18:21), the cry of a generous young woman attacked by her wicked neighbors.
The people of Sodom had a scarcity complex. They believed there was only so much wealth to go around and that if people shared money each would have less. This scarcity attitude toward money leads to people hoarding and being selfish. That was the mistake of Sodom, and the mistake of too many selfish individuals today. That is why the Torah tries to inculcate in us humans a prosperity mind-set that sees wealth as ever-expanding and the sharing of wealth as leading to abundance.
The Prosperity Mind-set
The Sodom and Gemorrah story teaches us to have a different attitude about money - to believe that wealth is to be shared and passed on: "What's mine is yours, and what's yours is yours, this is the way of the righteous." Or, as a Buddhist leader taught, "Money is round so that it will keep rolling." Many great teachers have taught that when we share our wealth, our charity comes back to bless us and we receive more in return.
Numerous times during my career, someone successful in business has spoken to me about their success. "Rabbi, a few years ago I went through a very hard time. I do not know how we survived financially. However, we decided that we would continue to make our donations and support worthy causes. Whatever little money came in, we always gave something back to the community. I am convinced that our giving led directly to our success today."
Rather than a scarcity paradigm (wealth is limited and the more I give away, the less I have), we ought to live by the prosperity paradigm: Wealth is unlimited. If one person has more, it does not mean that someone else has less. Because Bill Gates is a multibillionaire does not mean that the rest of us are poorer. (If anything, his wealth has created more wealth.).
The biblical lesson is that we live in a world of unlimited wealth, and that wealth is given to us with the condition that we constantly give some away. The biblical ideal prompts us to move from a scarcity paradigm to a prosperity paradigm, to recognize that God created a world filled with almost unlimited opportunities to successfully provide for ourselves and our families.
PARSHAT TERUMAH
(5761)
A TIME TO PLAY, A TIME TO WORK
"Tell the people Israel to bring Me gifts, you shall accept gifts for Me from every person whose heart so moves him." (Exodus 25:2)
I spent last weekend in Shreveport, Louisiana, where I served as their scholar-in-residence. The most exciting activity in the city that weekend (besides my visit) was preparation for Mardi Gras. I always thought Mardi Gras was more a custom of Catholic New Orleans, not their Southern Baptist neighbors in the northern part of the state. But even in Shreveport, it was an excuse to party.
Mardi Gras means fat Tuesday. It is part of the Catholic calendar, the day before Ash Wednesday and the beginning of Lent. The celebrations, whether in New Orleans or at Carnival in Rio is transformed into the serious introspection of the Lenten period.
Someone asked one of my hosts why she was not in costume for Mardi Gras. She tried to explain that she was Jewish, and Mardi Gras is really not a Jewish tradition. I reminded her that our Jewish version of Carnival really comes one week later. This coming week we celebrate the festival of Purim, a wild celebration of the events described in the Biblical book of Esther. We celebrate with parties, costumes, food, and for many Jews, too much to drink. (The Talmud says one should imbibe enough so that we are unable to differentiate between "blessed be Mordecai" and "cursed be Haman." I know many Jews who are lax about other observances but rigorously keep this one.)
Like our Catholic neighbors who follow Mardi Gras with Lent, our festival of Purim is immediately followed by the serious preparations for Pesach. We clean our homes of hametz (leavening) and prepare ourselves for the dietary disciplines of the Passover holiday. The party is over; the serious business of self-discipline now begins.
There is a lesson in all of this. As human beings we need to celebrate. We need our Mardi Gras and our Purim, our opportunities to party and celebrate. We need amusement parks in our lives. We need fun and diversion. However, a lifetime of amusement parks is not a successful nor a happy life. Fun and diversion must be balanced with hard work and serious self discipline. Catholics need their Lent; Jews need their Passover preparations. We all need to balance the party of life with self-discipline and commitment.
Unfortunately, I meet many people who want the Mardi Gras without the Lent, who want the Purim without the Pesach. They want to have fun and party without the serious self-discipline and commitment that makes for a successful life.
Last week I also visited our college students up and down the state of Florida. Most of them work hard to succeed with their studies. But I also meet many college students who like to party too much, who are irresponsible with their new found independence. I meet students who discover too late that drinking and partying must give way to hard work and serious self discipline. Too many of our students cannot handle the fun and fail or drop out.
California author and radio personality Dennis Prager has commented that we mistake fun for happiness, we search for immediate pleasure rather than the long term achievement that will ultimately bring us happiness. In fact, Prager teaches that fun and happiness are really opposites.
This week's Torah reading speaks of serious commitments, of giving towards the building of a tabernacle. What is important in life is to balance the partying and celebration with the commitment that comes afterwards.
PARSHAT TERUMAH
(5760)
COVERING IT UP
"The partition shall separate for you between the Holy and the Holy of Holies." (Exodus 26:33)
I asked a group of teens in my synagogue how they would react if they saw the scroll of the Torah lying uncovered and open. They answered, as I expected, that they would immediately cover it up. I asked why. They said that an uncovered Torah is open and vulnerable. Leaving a Torah open and uncovered somehow marred their sense of the holiness of the Torah.
The teens' answers told me something profound about Jewish thinking. If we want something to be holy, we cover it up. Leaving it exposed takes the mystery and specialness away. This is the reason that we carefully dress our Torahs, and keep them in the holiest spot in the synagogue - the ark. We open the ark and undress the Torahs only at a special moment in our religious service; opening the ark, undressing and dressing the Torah are considered honors.
In this week's portion we learn the ideal of achieving holiness by covering up. The entire tabernacle is covered by heavy curtains. God commands Moses to build a special partition to separate the holiest spot from the rest of the tabernacle. "Make a partition of turquoise, purple, and scarlet wool, together with twisted linen." (Exodus 26:31) Top quality material is used to set off the Holy of Holies from the rest of the tabernacle.
Separating and covering up is part of how we achieve holiness. In the ancient Temple in Jerusalem the Holy of Holies was off limits except for the High Priest, and then only on Yom Kippur. The people were truly in awe of that moment when the High Priest entered the Holy of Holies on Yom Kippur. A mistake at that moment could create havoc. Successfully exiting the Holy of Holies was a cause for joy and celebration. This moment is recreated in the liturgy for Yom Kippur afternoon.
It is worth exploring the idea in our contemporary society of covering up in order to achieve a sense of specialness, of holiness. Perhaps a secular way to understand this idea is to consider a stretch limousine with tinted windows. People see the limo and ask, "Who is it? A movie star? A sports hero? A celebrity?" In truth, anybody with a few hundred dollars can hire a limo for an evening, be covered, and feel special. People rent a limo for a wedding, a prom, a special date, a time when they want to feel separated and elevated.
The Bible takes this emotion and places it in a religious context. In the Garden of Eden we humans were animal like. We still had not eaten of the Tree of Knowledge, we still did not make moral decisions. We were "naked and not ashamed." Animals live naked and feel no shame as they go about fulfilling their bodily functions. The moment Adam and Eve ate the fruit, they felt shame. They immediately covered themselves. Part of rising above the animal kingdom and achieving holiness is to cover ourselves up.
The Torah uses a fascinating term for forbidden sexual relations, "uncovering nakedness." Noah was the first man to lie with his nakedness uncovered, causing a series of events that led to Noah's cursing his grandson. On Yom Kippur we read a series of laws regarding forbidden sexual relations, all of them using the phrase "uncovering nakedness." Later the rabbis would rule that for three transgressions a Jew should die rather than break the law. One of those is gilui arayot, "uncovering nakedness." One of the criticisms of our secular society is that we have uncovered what once was kept covered. We have lost our sense of modesty and discretion. Private behavior is now discussed in public. We wear clothing which expose our bodies in ways that would have made our ancestors cringe. A sexual revolution has taken the holiness out of our most intimate relations. Too often sex becomes recreational, a source of pleasure rather than holiness. Like the animal kingdom, we are naked and not ashamed.
Perhaps the Torah is saying, to achieve holiness, keep covered what ought to be covered.