Homilies on Hebrews
Homily 3 — Hebrews 1, verse 6, to 2, verse 4
Hebrews 1, verse 6, to 2, verse 4
“And again, when he brings the Firstborn into the world, he says, ‘And let all the angels of God worship him.’ And of the angels he says, ‘Who makes his angels spirits, and his servants a flame of fire.’ But to the Son he says, ‘Your throne, O God, is forever and ever.’”
Our Lord Jesus Christ calls his coming in the flesh a going out, as when he says, “The sower went out to sow” (Matthew 13, verse 3), and again, “I went out from the Father, and have come” (John 16, verse 28). You can see this in many places. But Paul calls it a coming in, when he says, “And when again he brings the Firstborn into the world.” By this bringing in he means his taking on flesh. Why has he used this expression? What the words point to is plain, and so is the sense in which they are said. Christ is right to call it a going out, for we were outside, away from God. Think of a royal palace. Prisoners, and those who have offended the king, stand outside. Whoever wants to reconcile them does not bring them in; he goes out himself and talks with them, until he has made them fit to come before the king, and then he brings them in. That is what Christ has done. He went out to us — that is, he took flesh — and talked with us about the King’s business; and so he brought us in, after he had cleansed our sins and made reconciliation. That is why he calls it a going out.
But Paul calls it a coming in, taking the picture from people who come into an inheritance and receive some portion or property. For the words “and when again he brings the Firstborn into the world” mean this: “when he puts the world into his hand.” When he was made known, he also took possession of the whole of it. He is not saying these things about God the Word, but about what belongs to the flesh. For if, as John says, “He was in the world, and the world was made through him” (John 1, verse 10), how is he “brought in,” except in the flesh?
“And,” he says, “let all the angels of God worship him.” He is about to say something great and lofty, so he prepares the way for it and makes it easy to accept, by presenting the Father as the one who “brings in” the Son. He had said above that God “spoke to us not by prophets but by his Son,” and that the Son is greater than the angels, and he proved this from the name “Son.” Here, in what follows, he proves it from another fact as well. What is it? From worship. And he shows how much greater he is — as much greater as a master is than a slave. Just as someone who brings another person into a house at once orders those in charge of it to show him respect, so he says, with regard to the flesh, “And let all the angels of God worship him.”
Is it, then, the angels only? No. Listen to what follows: “And of his angels he says, ‘Who makes his angels spirits, and his servants a flame of fire’; but to the Son, ‘Your throne, O God, is forever and ever.’” Look at the vast difference! They are created; he is uncreated. Of his angels he says, “who makes”; why did he not say “who makes” of the Son? And yet he could have put the difference this way: “Of his angels he says, ‘Who makes his angels spirits’; but of the Son, ‘The Lord created me,’ and ‘God has made him Lord and Christ’” (Proverbs 8, verse 22; Acts 2, verse 36). But neither was the first said about the Son, nor the second about God the Word; both were said about the flesh. For when he wanted to state the real difference, he no longer took in the angels alone, but the whole serving power above. Do you see how clearly he distinguishes between creatures and Creator, servants and Lord, the Heir and true Son and the slaves?
“But to the Son he says, ‘Your throne, O God, is forever and ever.’” Here is a sign of royal office. “A scepter of righteousness is the scepter of your kingdom.” Here again is another sign of royalty. Then, again with respect to the flesh (verse 9): “You have loved righteousness and hated lawlessness; therefore God, your God, has anointed you.”
What does “your God” mean? Having said something great, he tempers it again. Here he strikes at the Jews, the followers of Paul of Samosata, the Arians, Marcellus, Sabellius, and Marcion. How? He strikes the Jews by pointing to two persons, both God and man. He strikes the other Jews — I mean the followers of Paul of Samosata — by speaking this way about his eternal existence and his uncreated being; for to set him apart from the words “he makes,” he put “Your throne, O God, is forever and ever.” Against the Arians there is this same point again, and also that he is not a slave — yet if he were a creature, he would be a slave. Against Marcellus and the others, that these are two persons, distinct in their own real existence. And against the Marcionites, that it is not his being God that is anointed, but his humanity.
Next he says, “above your companions.” But who are these “companions” of his, if not human beings? That is, Christ received the Spirit “not by measure” (John 3, verse 34). Do you see how he always joins to the teaching about his uncreated nature the teaching about the plan of salvation as well? What could be clearer than this? Did you see that what is created and what is begotten are not the same? Otherwise he would not have made the distinction, nor, in contrast to the words “he makes,” have added, “But to the Son he says, ‘Your throne, O God, is forever and ever.’” Nor would he have called the name “Son” “a more excellent name,” if it meant the same thing. For where is the excellence? If what is created and what is begotten are the same, and the angels were made, what is there in him that is “more excellent”? Notice, again: “God,” with the article.
And again he says (verses 10 to 12): “You, Lord, in the beginning laid the foundation of the earth, and the heavens are the works of your hands. They will perish, but you remain; they will all grow old like a garment, and like a cloak you will fold them up, and they will be changed. But you are the same, and your years will not fail.”
You might hear the words “and when he brings the Firstborn into the world” and think of it as a gift added to him afterward. So he corrected that ahead of time above, and here he corrects it further, saying, “in the beginning” — not now, but from the first. See again how he deals a deadly blow to both Paul of Samosata and Arius, by applying to the Son the things that belong to the Father. And along with this he has hinted in passing at something else, something even greater. For by the way he has pointed out the transformation of the world too, when he says, “they will grow old like a garment, and like a cloak you will fold them up, and they will be changed.” He says this also in the letter to the Romans, that he will transform the world (see Romans 8, verse 21). And to show how easy it is, he adds that as a man folds up a garment, so he will fold the world up and change it. But if he brings about the transformation, the creation into something better and more perfect with such ease, did he need someone else for the lesser creation? How far will your shamelessness go? At the same time this is a very great comfort: to know that things will not stay as they are, but that all of them will receive a change and all be altered, while he himself remains, existing forever and living without end. “And your years,” he says, “will not fail.”
Verse 13: “But to which of the angels has he ever said, ‘Sit at my right hand until I make your enemies your footstool’?” See how he encourages them again: their enemies were to be beaten, and their enemies are the same as Christ’s.
This, again, belongs to sovereignty, to equal dignity, to honor and not to weakness — that the Father should be angry over what is done to the Son. It belongs to his great love and honor toward the Son, as of a father toward a son. For how can one who is angry on his behalf be a stranger to him? He says this also in the second Psalm: “He who dwells in heaven will laugh them to scorn, and the Lord will mock them. Then he will speak to them in his anger, and terrify them in his fierce displeasure” (Psalm 2, verses 4 and 5). And again the Son himself says, “Those who did not want me to reign over them — bring them here before me, and kill them” (Luke 19, verse 27). To see that these words are his own, listen also to what he says in another place: “How often I wanted to gather your children together, and you would not! Look, your house is left desolate” (Luke 13, verses 34 and 35). And again: “The kingdom will be taken from you and given to a nation producing its fruits” (Matthew 21, verse 43). And again: “Whoever falls on that stone will be broken, but on whomever it falls, it will grind him to powder” (Matthew 21, verse 44). Besides, he who is to be their Judge in that world repaid them himself far more in this one. So the words “until I make your enemies your footstool” express nothing but honor toward the Son.
Verse 14: “Are they not all serving spirits, sent out to serve for the sake of those who will inherit salvation?”
What wonder is it, he says, if they serve the Son, when they serve even our salvation? See how he lifts their minds up, and shows how greatly God honors us, since he has given the angels, who are above us, this service on our behalf. It is as if he said: This is what he uses them for; this is the angels’ office, to serve God for our salvation. So it is an angel’s work to do everything for the salvation of our brothers and sisters — or rather, it is the work of Christ himself, for he saves as Lord, and they as servants. And we, though servants, are fellow servants of the angels. As he says: Why do you stare so at the angels? They are servants of the Son of God. They are sent out in many directions for our sake, and they serve our salvation. And so they are partners in service with us.
Notice how he puts no great difference between the kinds of creatures. And yet the distance between angels and human beings is great. Still he brings them down close to us, all but saying: For us they labor; for our sake they run back and forth; they wait on us, so to speak. This is their service: to be sent everywhere for our sake.
Both the Old Testament and the New are full of examples of this. Angels bring good news to the shepherds, or to Mary, or to Joseph; they sit at the tomb; they are sent to say to the disciples, “Men of Galilee, why do you stand gazing up into heaven?” (Acts 1, verse 11); they release Peter from prison; they talk with Philip. Think how great the honor is, when God sends his angels as servants, as if to friends! An angel appears to Cornelius; an angel brings all the apostles out of prison and says, “Go, stand and speak in the temple to the people the words of this life” (Acts 5, verse 20); and to Paul himself, too, an angel appears. Do you see that they serve us on God’s behalf, and serve us in the greatest matters? That is why Paul says, “All things are yours, whether life or death, or the world, or things present, or things to come” (First Corinthians 3, verse 22). Well then, the Son too was sent — but not as a servant, nor as one who serves, but as a Son, the only Son, wanting the same things as the Father. Or rather, he was not “sent” at all, for he did not pass from place to place; he took on flesh. But the angels change their places: they leave the places where they were before and come to others where they were not.
And by this, again, he encourages them in passing, saying: What are you afraid of? Angels are serving us.
He has spoken about the Son, both what concerned the plan of salvation and what concerned creation and his sovereignty. He has shown his equal dignity, and that as absolute Master he rules not only human beings but also the powers above. Now that he has made his argument, he next urges them that we must pay attention to the things we have heard (Hebrews 2, verse 1). “That is why,” he says, “we must pay more earnest attention to the things we have heard.” Why “more earnest”? He meant “more earnest” than to the law. But he held back from saying so outright; and yet he makes it plain in the course of his reasoning, not by way of counsel or exhortation. That was the better way.
Verses 2 and 3: “For if the word spoken by angels,” he says, “was steadfast, and every transgression and disobedience received a just reward, how will we escape if we neglect so great a salvation, which first began to be spoken to us by the Lord, and was confirmed to us by those who heard him?”
Why must we “pay more earnest attention to the things we have heard”? Were not those earlier things from God as well as these? So he means either “more earnest” than to the law, or simply “very earnest” — not making a comparison; far from it! Because of the long stretch of time, they thought highly of the old covenant, while these things were looked down on as still new. So he proves, beyond what his argument required, that we ought to pay more attention to these. How? By saying, in effect: both these and those are from God, but not in the same way. He shows this later on. For now he touches on it lightly, but afterward more clearly, when he says, “For if that first covenant had been faultless” (Hebrews 8, verse 7), and many other things like it: “For what is decaying and growing old is ready to vanish away” (Hebrews 8, verse 13). But at the start of his discourse he does not yet venture to say anything of the kind — not until he has first won over his hearer and taken hold of him with fuller arguments.
Why, then, must we “pay more earnest attention”? “So that we never let them slip,” he says — that is, so that we never perish, never fall away. And here he shows how serious this falling away is: it is hard for what has fallen away to come back again, since it happened through willful negligence. He took this way of speaking from the Proverbs, for it says, “My son, take care that you do not fall away” (Proverbs 3, verse 21, in the Greek Old Testament), showing both how easy the fall is and how serious the ruin. In other words, our disobedience is not without danger. And though his way of reasoning shows that the punishment is greater, he again leaves it as a question and does not state it as the conclusion. For this is how to make what one says inoffensive: not always to pronounce the judgment oneself, but to leave it in the hearer’s own power to give the verdict. This would make them more ready to be convinced. The prophet Nathan does the same in the Old Testament, and so does Christ in Matthew, when he says, “What will he do to those tenant farmers” of that vineyard? (Matthew 21, verse 40). In this way he compels them to pronounce sentence themselves; for this is the greatest victory.
Next, after saying, “For if the word spoken by angels was steadfast,” he did not add, “much more the word spoken by Christ.” He let that pass and said something less: “How will we escape if we neglect so great a salvation?” And see how he makes the comparison. “For if the word spoken by angels,” he says. There it is “by angels,” here “by the Lord”; there “a word,” but here “salvation.”
Then, so that no one could say, Are these sayings of yours, Paul, really Christ’s? he proves that they can be trusted, both because he heard these things from him, and because they are now spoken by God. For it is not merely a voice carried on the air, as in the case of Moses; signs are done, and the facts bear witness.
But what does “For if the word spoken by angels was steadfast” mean? In the letter to the Galatians, too, he says something like it: “It was ordained through angels by the hand of a mediator” (Galatians 3, verse 19). And again: “You received the law as handed down by angels, and have not kept it” (Acts 7, verse 53). Everywhere he says that it was given through angels. Some say that Moses is meant, but without reason, for here he says “angels” in the plural, and the angels he speaks of here are those in heaven. What, then, does it mean? Either he means the Ten Commandments only (for there Moses spoke, and God answered him — Exodus 19, verse 19); or that angels were present, with God setting them in order; or he speaks this way of everything said and done under the old covenant, as though angels had a part in it. But how is it said in another place, “The law was given through Moses” (John 1, verse 17), and here “through angels”? For it says, “And God came down in thick darkness” (Exodus 19, verses 16 and 20).
“For if the word spoken by angels was steadfast.” What does “was steadfast” mean? True, one might say, and trustworthy in its own season: everything that had been spoken came to pass. Either this is his meaning, or that the words held good and the threats were being carried out. Or by “the word” he means commands. For apart from the law, angels sent from God gave many commands: at Bokim, for instance, in Judges, and in the story of Samson (Judges 2, verse 1; 13, verse 3). That is why he did not say “the law,” but “the word.” And to me he seems perhaps rather to mean this: the things that are entrusted to the management of angels. What shall we say, then? The angels entrusted with the care of the nation were present then, and they themselves made the trumpets and the other things — the fire, the thick darkness (Exodus 19, verse 16).
“And every transgression and disobedience,” he says. Not this one and that one, but “every” one. Nothing, he says, went unpunished; each “received a just reward” — he says “reward” instead of “punishment.” Why did he speak this way? This is Paul’s manner: he does not make much of his phrases, but freely sets down words of bad sound even where the meaning is good. So in another place he says, “taking every thought captive to the obedience of Christ” (Second Corinthians 10, verse 5). And again he has put “repaying” for punishment, just as here he calls punishment a “reward”: “Since it is a just thing with God,” he says, “to repay with distress those who distress you, and to give rest to you who are distressed” (Second Thessalonians 1, verses 6 and 7). That is, justice was not violated: God went out against them and made the penalty come around on the sinners — though not all their sins are brought to light, but only where the explicit commands were broken.
“How, then,” he says, “will we escape if we neglect so great a salvation?” By this he showed that the other salvation was no great thing. And he did well to add “so great.” For he will not now rescue us from wars, he says, nor give us the earth and the good things on the earth; it will be the undoing of death, the destruction of the devil, the kingdom of heaven, eternal life. All these he expressed briefly by saying, “if we neglect so great a salvation.”
Then he adds what makes this worthy of belief: “which first began to be spoken by the Lord” — that is, it had its beginning from the fountain itself. It was not a man who carried it over to the earth, nor any created power, but the only Son himself.
“And was confirmed to us by those who heard him.” What does “confirmed” mean? It was believed, or it came to pass. For, he says, we have the pledge; that is, it has not been put out, it has not stopped, but it is strong and prevails. And the cause is that the power of God is at work in it. He means that those who heard from the Lord confirmed it to us themselves. This is a great thing, and trustworthy. Luke says the same at the beginning of his Gospel: “Just as they delivered them to us, who from the beginning were eyewitnesses and servants of the word” (Luke 1, verse 2).
How, then, was it confirmed? What if those who heard were forgers? someone says. He overturns this objection, and shows that the grace was not human. If they had gone astray, God would not have borne witness to them; for he added (verse 4), “God also bearing witness with them.” They bear witness, and God bears witness too. How does he bear witness? Not by word or by voice, though even that would have deserved belief. How, then? “By signs, and wonders, and various miracles.” (He did well to say “various miracles,” pointing to the abundance of the gifts. It was not so under the old covenant: there were not such great signs, nor so varied.) That is, we did not believe them on their bare word, but through signs and wonders; so it is not them we believe, but God himself.
“And by gifts of the Holy Spirit, according to his own will.”
What, then, if sorcerers also do signs, and the Jews said that he “cast out demons by Beelzebub” (Luke 11, verse 15)? But they do not do signs of that kind. That is why he said “various miracles”; for those others were not miracles but weakness and illusion, things altogether empty. That is why he said, “by gifts of the Holy Spirit according to his own will.”
Here he seems to me to hint at something more. It is likely that not many among them still had gifts, but that the gifts had died away as they grew more slack. So, to comfort them even in this and not leave them to fall away, he traced everything back to the will of God. He knows, he says, what is best, and for whom, and he hands out his grace accordingly. Paul does the same in the letter to the Corinthians, where he says, “God has placed each one of us as he pleased” (First Corinthians 12, verse 18), and again, “The manifestation of the Spirit is given to each one for the common good” (First Corinthians 12, verse 7).
“According to his will.” He shows that the gift is given by the will of the Father. Often, because of their unclean and lazy lives, many have not received a gift; but sometimes those whose lives are good and pure have not received one either. Why, I ask you? So that they would not grow haughty, so that they would not be puffed up, so that they would not become more careless, so that they would not be carried away. For if the mere awareness of a pure life, even without a gift, is enough to lift a man up, how much more when grace is added too! That is why it was given rather to the humble, to the simple, and especially to the simple; for it is said, “in simplicity and gladness of heart” (Acts 2, verse 46).
Yes, and by this he also spurred them on, and if they were growing careless, he gave them a goad. For the humble man, the one who imagines nothing great about himself, becomes more earnest when he has received a gift, because he has obtained what is beyond his deserts and thinks he is not worthy of it. But the man who thinks he has done well counts the gift as his due, and is puffed up. That is why God distributes this for our good. You can see it happening in the church too: one person has the word of teaching, another cannot even open his mouth. Let this one not be grieved over it, he says, for “the manifestation of the Spirit is given to each one for the common good” (First Corinthians 12, verse 7). If a master of a household knows whom to trust with anything, how much more does God, who understands the human mind, “who knows all things before they come to be.” Only one thing deserves grief: sin. There is nothing else.
Do not say, “Why don’t I have riches?” or, “If I had them, I would give to the poor.” You do not know whether, if you had them, you would not rather be greedy. Right now you say these things, but put to the test, you would be different. It is like this: when we have eaten our fill, we think we are able to fast; but when we have gone without food for a little while, other thoughts come over us. Again, when we are away from strong drink, we think we are able to master our appetite; but not any longer once it has caught us.
Do not say, “Why didn’t I receive the gift of teaching?” or, “If I had it, I would have built up countless souls.” You do not know whether, if you had it, it would not have led to your condemnation — whether envy or laziness would not have moved you to hide your talent. As it is, you are free of all these things, and if you do not hand out “the portion of food” (Luke 12, verse 42), you are not called to account. But then you would have been answerable for many.
Besides, even now you are not without a gift. Show in the little what you would have been if you had had the other. “For if,” he says, “you are not faithful in what is little, who will give you what is great?” (Luke 16, verse 11). Give the kind of proof the widow gave. She had two small coins, and she put in all of it, everything she owned. Are you looking for riches? Prove that you hold the few things lightly, so that I may trust you with the many as well. But if you do not hold even these lightly, much less will you hold the others so.
Again, in speech, prove that you can give encouragement and advice fittingly. You lack the eloquence of the schools outside? You have no great store of ideas? Even so, you know these ordinary things. You have a child, you have a neighbor, you have a friend, you have a brother, you have relatives. Even if you cannot draw out a long speech publicly before the church, you can encourage these in private. Here there is no need of rhetoric or of an elaborate speech. Prove in these that if you had skill with words, you would not have neglected it. But if you are not in earnest in the small matter, how am I to trust you with the great? To show that every person can do this, listen to what Paul says, how he charged even lay people: “Build one another up,” he says, “just as you are doing” (First Thessalonians 5, verse 11); and, “Comfort one another with these words” (First Thessalonians 4, verse 18).
God knows how he should distribute to each person. Are you better than Moses? Listen to how he shrinks from the hardship. “Am I able to carry them?” he says. “For you said to me, Carry them, as a foster father carries a nursing baby” (Numbers 11, verse 12). What did God do then? He took some of his spirit and gave it to the others, showing that even when Moses carried them, the gift was not his own but the Spirit’s. If you had had the gift, perhaps you would have been lifted up; perhaps you would have been turned off the road. You do not know yourself as God knows you. Let us not say, “What is that for? Why is this so?” When God distributes, let us not demand that he account to us for it; that is the height of ungodliness and folly. We are slaves, and slaves far removed from our Master, who do not even know the things in front of us.
So let us not pry into the counsel of God. Whatever he has given us, let us guard it, even if it is small, even if it is the lowest, and we will be fully approved. Or rather, none of the gifts of God is small. Are you grieved because you do not have the gift of teaching? Then tell me: which seems greater to you, to have the gift of teaching or the gift of driving away diseases? The second, no doubt. Well then, tell me: does it not seem greater to you to give sight to the blind than even to drive away diseases? And again, tell me: does it not seem greater to you to raise the dead than to give sight to the blind? And again, tell me: does it not seem greater to you to do this by shadows and handkerchiefs than by a word? Tell me, then, which would you choose: to raise the dead with shadows and handkerchiefs, or to have the gift of teaching? You will say the first, no doubt — to raise the dead with shadows and handkerchiefs.
Now if I show you that there is another gift far greater than this one, and you do not take it when it is in your power to take it, are you not rightly deprived of those others? And this gift is not for one or two; all may have it. I know you are opening your mouths wide in amazement to hear that it is in your power to have a gift greater than raising the dead and giving sight to the blind, doing the very things that were done in the time of the apostles. It seems to you past belief.
What, then, is this gift? Love. Yes, believe me, for the word is not mine but Christ’s, speaking through Paul. What does he say? “Eagerly desire the best gifts. And yet I show you a still more excellent way” (First Corinthians 12, verse 31). What does this mean, “a still more excellent way”? This is what he means. The Corinthians were proud of their gifts, and those who had tongues, the least of the gifts, were puffed up against the rest. So he says to them: Do you want gifts at all costs? I am showing you a way of gifts that is not merely excellent but far more excellent. Then he says, “Though I speak with the tongues of angels, and do not have love, I am nothing. And though I have faith enough to move mountains, and do not have love, I am nothing” (First Corinthians 13, verses 1 and 2).
Have you seen the gift? Eagerly desire this gift. This is greater than raising the dead. This is far better than all the rest. And to show that it is so, listen to what Christ himself says as he talks with his disciples: “By this all people will know that you are my disciples” (John 13, verse 35). And in showing how, he did not mention miracles. What, then? “If you have love for one another.” And again he says to the Father, “By this they will know that you have sent me, if they are one” (John 17, verse 21). And he said to his disciples, “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another” (John 13, verse 34). So such a person is more worthy of reverence and glory than those who raise the dead — and rightly so. For that is wholly from God’s grace, but this comes from your own earnestness as well. This marks a real Christian; this shows the disciple of Christ crucified, the man who has nothing in common with the earth. Without this, not even martyrdom can do any good.
As proof, see it plainly. The blessed Paul took two of the highest virtues, or rather three: those that consist in miracles, in knowledge, and in a way of life. And without this, he said, the others are nothing. I will tell you how they are nothing. “Though I give my goods to feed the poor,” he says, “and do not have love, I am nothing” (First Corinthians 13, verse 3). For it is possible to lack love even while one feeds the poor and spends all one has.
We have already said enough about these things in the place where we spoke of love, and we refer readers there. For now, as I was saying, let us eagerly desire the gift; let us love one another. Then we will need nothing else to gain virtue fully: everything will be easy for us, without hard labor, and we will do everything perfectly and with great eagerness. But look, someone says, Even now we love one another. For one person has two friends, another has three. But this is not loving for God’s sake; it is loving for the sake of being loved. Love for God’s sake does not start from that motive. Such a person will be disposed toward everyone as toward brothers. He will love those of the same faith as true brothers; and heretics and pagans and Jews — brothers indeed by nature, but base and worthless — he will pity, wear himself out over, and weep for. In this we will be like God: if we love everyone, even our enemies — not if we work miracles. For we admire even God when he works wonders, but much more when he shows his love for humankind, when he is patient. If this is so worthy of admiration even in God, it is all the more plain that in human beings this is what makes us admirable.
So let us seek this zealously, and we will be in no way inferior to Paul and Peter and those who raised countless dead, even if we cannot drive away a fever. But without love, even if we work greater miracles than the apostles themselves, even if we expose ourselves to countless dangers for the faith, none of it will profit us at all. It is not I who say these things; he says them, the very nurse of love, and he knows them. So let us obey him, for that is how we will be able to obtain the good things promised. May we all share in them, by the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom be the glory to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, now and forever and ever. Amen.