Are there Logical Grounds for the Ten Commandments?
Over the weekend I got a fortune cookie that said,
“Compromise is always wrong if it means sacrificing a principle”
…But what are the principles? Are there right ones and wrong ones? If ours are different, who wins? If I say that mine are right, do I have the right to force you to live by them?
The core of questions like this is the issue ofwhether moral principles exist as relevant, useful, needful aspects of decision-making, or if they’re just words in the head, having not much use outside societal manipulation. Do you act according to moral principles? Is it a set of principles you made up, or one that somebody else gave you? Can you write it all down, right now? Are there ever exceptions to your “code”?
A moral principle is a generalized “rule”, like a “ten commandment”, which is supposed to guide moral action. There can be just one (”do whatever maximizes good for people”), or many, like the Commandments. But as anybody knows, it’s darn near impossible to make these rules such that they really always apply — It can be morally correct to steal (if your choice is between stealing or letting someone you’re responsible for starve, for instance). And if you’ve got a good imagination, you can imagine a situation in which it might be morally correct to do just about anything that looks wrong; or conversely, morally wrong to do just about anything that’s usually considered morally upstanding. Almost nobody argues the point that the situation can have a huge effect on the application of a principle. But then, can there be principles that tell us what we should and should not take into consideration when judging a situation?
Can moral principles be stretched enough to include every possibility? Or can they all be formulated with “holes” in them, where particular things about the situation can be plugged in, a sort of “moral formula” rather than a rule? Like, “It’s always wrong to steal unless you have another moral duty which would be more wrong to violate, and not stealing would violate it” — is that a valid principle? Would it ALWAYS be true? (What if I only believe that I have another, superceding moral duty, but it turns out that I did not?)
These are often questions relegated to religion, which has made a business out of positing horrible consequences of immorality that go above and beyond the horrible consequences we know it can already have, usually for the purpose of getting people to obey the morality that perpetuates the Church…but I’m trying to remove the debate from that arena, where the arguments are obviously biased, and just talk about whether me and you, regular(ish) people, ought to view things in terms of moral principles which we need to learn and obey, or not. What makes the difference here is whether using moral principles works for us, i.e. whether it gets us what we want, assuming for purposes of the argument that we all want to be decent people and to know what the heck we should be doing.
I’ve read a lot about the debate between generalism (pro-moral-principles) and particularism (anti-principles, judge each situation by itself) in class lately. I’m leaning towards particularism. The social / legal value of rules aside (I’m not saying we shouldn’t have (reasonable) laws), it seems that trying to formulate principles is a doomed exercise. It relies on faulty logic, for one thing — you just can’t extrapolate from particular instances into general rules that way. The fact that it was wrong for Suzy to steal that toy has no bearing on whether it’s wrong for John to steal that bread tomorrow — John’s moral stance needs its own judging on its own evidence. In technical terms, “moral rules” as we envision them *aren’t* generalizations of particular moral instances anyway — if they were, then one counterexample would disprove the rule, just like the generalization “all tigers have tails” is disproven by the existence of a tiger that has no tail. But in the case of moral rules, a situation where it was right to steal isn’t considered to have “proven wrong” the rule that it’s wrong to steal — because the rule isn’t a generalization from the particular cases. And if it doesn’t come from particular cases, then why does it apply to them at all? How do you get from the general to the particular?
But do we even need to bother? Even Kant, who certainly liked rules, was dead set against specific rules to govern situations, like the Commandments. He was in favor of a “moral formula” that existed just to give people a guideline for how to make a moral decision, and even that formula is suspect sometimes (though it’s not really any more forceful or offensive than the Golden Rule). Then again, Kant (and others) also argue that people don’t need to be told how to make moral decisions; we know right and wrong, given all the information. The tricky part is knowing which information is important to consider, and paying attention so we don’t miss out on relevant stuff.
The upside of “moral particularism” is that it makes morality accessible to everybody, and makes everybody responsible for their moral actions, no matter how uneducated or uninformed they are — Never having read the Bible is no excuse, for instance. The downside is that it makes judging how moral a particular action was difficult.
Which can also be an upside, IMO. How easy should it be to judge the morality of another’s actions? Do we even have a right to? Keep in mind that judging the legality of someone’s actions is perfectly easy to do without judging the morality of it. Of course we have to judge the legality of what Person X did, if he did it in a society that we share, or in a way that affected us. And it’s likely that morally-wrong things will be legally wrong too, though not for certain. But we know that we can’t have all the information needed to judge whether what he did was “right or wrong”, and why do we need to know anyway? Whether what he did was right or wrong is an issue for him, his integrity, his life, his deity if he has one. What the world “in general” thinks about it…well, why does that matter at all?
In short, particularism makes sense, it allows for the equal moral responsibility of all people, and it throws light on some of the danger inherent in trying to “legislate morality”, a tendency which the formulation of moral principles tends to encourage. I like particularism because it keeps people’s noses out of each other’s personal business. (Unless they’re particularly involved, of course — if I’m your mother, then of course whether what you did was moral matters to me. But I also have much better knowledge and information to go on, if I’m going to judge you, and because I’m your mother, I also have some right to judge you.) I also like it because it fails to make an annoying logical leap, and doesn’t ask people to use what are obviously flimsy, faulty rules as their irrevocable guidelines to making important decisions.
But that’s me. ;)
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Sleep-wise, I got my core down to 4.5 hours last night. Not perfect, but good progress, and unsurprising considering that I could hardly nap yesterday due to oversleeping the two nights before. (As I’ve said, one long core won’t throw me off — but two, argh, two will!)
I’m not tired at all, though I was groggy heading up to 1 a.m. yesterday. (Not Uberman-adjustment groggy, just argh-sleepy groggy.) I didn’t even need coffee this morning to do the drive to work! If today goes well and I can take my usual 3-hour core tonight, I’m calling re-adjustment-after-screwup a breeze, yo. ;)
-PD
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You seem to see moral principles as something to be used for an end. Manipulation of your neighbors could in fact be useful, but not moral as such. Kind of like if they don’t know, it doesn’t hurt them.
Early Christian morals were not understood as rules, but something similar to a (spiritual) sickness. The sickness was separation from God. Healing came from a life in the Church community and participating in the sacraments. Grace was both a sign and cause of healing. It was very clear to early Christians where the line was between separation and communion with God, but as time past people lost a sense of grace (St. John Chrystosom) and people who had that sense acted as guides, and some wrote their knowledge and experience down. Someone who sinned underwent therapy and correction (performing spiritual virtues). The idea of the Redemption in the Christian East today is that Christ came to join humanity to God again, and so Christ took our humanity, killed it, and ressurected it.
So the early Christian church had this huge “tradition” (passing to another) of moral directions.
The Roman church liked laws and legislation and produced lists of laws. During the dark ages sin began to be seen as guilt from breaking a law. The transgressor then had to be punished to “make up” for their crime. The redemption was seen as Christ “making up” or being punished for humanity’s sins. This idea still persists in the West Christian world, that sin must be punished somehow. Purgatory is a purely Western Christian idea, for example, it never existed in the East.
I would define moral law as that which describes sin or spiritual sickness. Moral law also includes what spiritual health and communion with God is. The authority which determines these lines is not human, but they are simply a matter of fact. Any other definition seems to me to be arbitrary or self-serving.
Sin, as a sickness, has the unfortunate effect of blinding its victim. Someone sick with sin can not sense clearly where the boundries between sickness and health lay. Once someone has broken that barrier and has sinned, suddenly that barrier is gone. Sin is like throwing a rock through a window: you can not put the broken pieces together. Sin breaks human nature in a total sense. This is why only God is the source of healing, only God can make what is broken come back together. The more whole someone becomes, the more he or she can sense or see what was broken inside them.
Your explanation of the early Christian view of morals is fascinating; but if you mean to pull it forward into the present, I’m not following.
Then again, the problem I’ve *always* had with theology is that all of it pre-supposes the existence of God; you can’t do any reasoning that doesn’t bear that assumption, and it drives me crazy sometimes. It’s not a law of physics, for God’s sake.
Wow, that last sentence was awesome. ;)
Here’s the thing: I don’t think the explanation of “sin” makes morals any less instrumental. It’s a different way to describe where moral force comes from, and it redefines what morals are for, but they’re still for a purpose: To prevent sin.
My argument that general moral principles can’t encompass all the particularities of what’s actually the right thing to do in any situation isn’t affected by what the negative outcome is if you go wrong. (You say sin, I say karma, tomato potato.) And even Jesus said that it wasn’t the act of obeying the letter of the commandments that was pleasing to God, but rather the spirit of them, the part you’d have to figure out for yourself in particular cases.
Good to hear from you again!
-PD
I think your religious thought and the religious thought of Einstein is very similar. Einstein, as in your previous post Random Edification, was very wise in his perception of mystery, he was right, but there is a line he would not cross. You also are not crossing that line. Einstein was a visionary of things very few can grasp. The vision of mystery can be a transforming experience, but the question for me is whether or not this made him a better person in an absolute sense. The classical philosophers pursued “aresti”, virtue, and some even tried to find the divine, like Heraclius and his description of the Logos. For the classical philosophers, science and religion were not two different things. Both sought the truth. Science in its modern definition has no opinion of what it can not sense. This is very limiting. This does not find truth, penetrate the mystery or find the divine. You can not tell me that science can not cross that line. The classical philosophers thought it could. Even science uses assumptions, and my assumption is that God is very alive all around us and plays a role in everything. I have evidence on which I base my assumption, my favorite being the annual descent of the Holy Fire in Jerusalem.
Your definition of moral law is a relative law. Each person is responsible to their own standards. Well, what if I want really low standards so I can manipulate my neighbor? I can not do that. Why not? There is a standard above me, and you, that our conscience holds us against. The Communist government in Russia could not control people who were bothered by their conscience, and so they introduced “freedom of conscience”, which meant children were taught the soviet version of moral law. The thing is, these children still had in them their natural conscience, not the soviet one. Much to the Soviets dismay, our conscience does not come from external conditioning, although that conditioning can sharpen our conscience and make is less vague.
If I decide to go on a diet an then binge every day until I give up, then I lacked resolve, not moral force. I can resolve to manipulate someone and then go through with it, and I lacked moral force. See what I am getting at? If it involves the word “moral”, then it is a question of the absolute good or bad of an act of will, not a relative good or bad.
The commandments were holy to Jesus. But Jesus revealed the true hight of the law. An eye for an eye is a big improvement over limitless revenge, but it is only a loose expression of what is truely noble: turning the cheek to those who strike us. The Old Testement Law prepared the world for the New Testement self-sacrifice, and they both strive for the same moral perfection. It is just that one is lower and easy to grasp, the other higher and difficult to assimlate in our lives.
Einstein, eh? Well, I totally dig flattery, but it won’t stop me from arguing with you… ;) For one thing, I enjoy the arguing far too much. I have almost as good a time guessing what the heck your occupation must be, that you know and believe as you do. So far I’m leaning towards Monk Historian. I knew some Monks in the mountains outside Santa Fe, and they didn’t have Internet access but otherwise, they made similarly wonderful and multi-faceted arguments. They were also the only clergy I’ve ever heard of to have read Einstein (not counting “to practice warding off evil” or somesuchb.s.).
The argument for particularism is not one for relativism per se. I’m actually very much against moral relativism, simply because it’s logically self-defeating and there’s no way around that. But morality can be based in particular cases without having to be derived entirely from the wishes of the moral agent. I don’t argue for a second that there IS some type of external moral force; nothing else could really explain why, even as children, even without any education whatsoever, human beings have a basic innate understanding of “right” and “wrong”. That understanding is easily blunted or blinded by thinking (secular as well as religious), but very few would argue that it isn’t there.
You’re right about me in that I won’t cross the line of assuming things about God, which I have not the slightest proof of. This is difficult, not the least because the “standard” idea of a Great One is already so laden with unfounded assumptions — That God is anthropomorphic (sometimes even male), providential, all-seeing, all-knowing…there’s no way to prove any of those things, and none of them are necessary to prove things like moral force. I promise to write a post on moral force specifically at some point to address that more thoroughly, because the way I’ve said it here it sounds like I’m nitpicking, but in the case of justifying moral action I think it’s very important to be honest about what can and cannot be known. Can it be known that there’s “something out there”? Absofreakinglutely — that’s what Einstein was referring to. Mystery, wonder, all the telltale signs of the Great One, can be directly experienced by anybody without his head up his arse. I have no problem with that assumption, but yes, farther than that, I will not go without more evidence.
Does morality need God? I hear you arguing that point with me, though the scope of this writeup was only “Does morality need to be encapsulated in rules?”. I’m a tentative believer that morality does not need the rules–the principles–and that in fact their tendency to be misleading, to divert the attention from true morality and its source which is always only apparent to us in the Moment, may make them more harmful than beneficial in the long run. The mandate of Jesus (and Kant and Nietzsche and many others) is that we must be our morality, must have the courage to make those decisions with both feet in the Now and only the guidance that the Great One gives us. Rules are as useful to in-the-moment morality as the TV guide is to the experience of watching Braveheart.
As to whether morality needs God…well, very loosely speaking, yes.
Yes, I should say, morality does need “something higher”. That something must be the thing we know of as the source of Einstein’s Mystery and experience as the tug towards “right” that we all feel from day one (of consciousness). But beyond that, we don’t know what it “is”, unless we’re one of very very few to have seen it (in which case we’re forever damned in that we can never make anybody else see it, nor substitute our words for their direct experience). Hence, my problem is not with the “existence” of God by itself, but the defining of God in what I see as an often reckless and overtly power-motivated fashion.
Jeez…can I have your permission to at some point post exerpts from these conversations on my front page? It’s killing me that the other readers (such as they are) are missing out on your points.
Thanks again,
-PD
You may post any exerpts you want on this site.
The rule which can guide us in every general and particular instance is love. Love does not steal, is kind, is pure, humble, charitable. Love can also guide us in the choice of the lesser of two evils. The problem is that we do not have love. Someone who has love does not need rules. Sin is the opposite of love. Sin is self-love. Christian moral law describes love. Law wars against sin. Moral law can not endorse sin. At best we love clumsily. We need guidance, which moral law provides.
Moral law is not something that restricts us, and is not meant to punish. It is a standard we compare ourselves to. We need a standard to measure ourselves to. We can not know with our imperfect love if we are doing the right thing without this guidance.
True love is transformation. True love makes someone a better person. True love is very, very hard to prepare. It takes an entire lifetime and is so easy to spoil it. True love can not exist by itself. True love can only come from above, from God, and not through human ingenuity. All the Kants and Neitzches will never give the world love. They can not give what they themselves do not have. Only God has true love. Our inborn perception of “right” and “wrong” comes from our inborn natural love. But natural love is still not perfect or true love. It is so vague, and our inborn sympathy for sin works to dissipates it. We do in fact have an inborn sympathy for sin, but we can not see it without a law. The law draws lines where sin wants to go, and so sin is revealed. This is for all of us who have imperfect love. True love knows exactly where sin is, because sin is it’s opposite.
I agree whole heartedly with your thesis that morality does not need rules. But in the presence of true love. Since lack of true love is universal, we are all imperfect, there needs to be rules. Yes, morality needs God, a God that is a person and not a thing, because only a God that can love can give true love. This is where Heraclius failed in his discription of the Logos, because for him the Logos was a thing, not a person. John in his gospel completes Heraclius by saying “In the beginning was the Logos, and the Logos was with God, and the Logos was God….and the Logos became flesh and dwelt among men…”
I do not understand what you mean that we must be our morality. It sounds to me like you mean we set our own standards. If we had true love then we would, in fact, set our own standards. But we do not have true love. We need guidance to make the right decision.
Hmm.
If nobody has this ‘true love’, then how do we know it exists?
And what proof do we have that the people feeding us rules have it? Why do we know that they’re more likely to be right in any given situation than we are?
It’s a fallacy to assume that just because there’s *some* of something, there must be *all* of it somewhere. We agree that there is beauty in the world, but logically this doesn’t necessitate the existence of some Perfectly Beautiful Thing somewhere (though this is a logic that Christian scholars are often eager to argue with. However, logic it is — the Platonic ideal is a thought-form, not a necessary *object*.). So why can’t people be born with love, and come as close to it or go as far from it as they will in life, without there necessarily being such a thing as “true” or perfect love?
I agree with Heraclitus. In part because God could not possibly be a person by any definition of “person” that we use: persons are physical and mortal and imperfect by definition. (I suppose if God was physical, but not mortal or imperfect, he might be a robot! ;) And to assume that there’s something out there that’s completely unlike a person in all major respects, but which thinks and perceives and has emotions like a person, seems like a massive and unsupported assumption to me. It smacks of a child assuming that there must be somebody knocking over pots and pans in the sky, when it thunders. Occam’s Razor completely decimates such an argument.
Nor do I think God “guides us”, in any active sense of the word, any more than Nature “guides us” to not breed too quickly by introducing plague and famine into our lives. (And if we do want to see Nature as really “guiding us”, then we don’t need God, because Nature “does” everything we’d attribute to God…). Every instance of someone praying/meditating on a difficult question and, in achieving silence and stillness and peace, finding a sudden and unexpected answer, is quite explainable as them having communed with the more powerful, non-intellectual intelligence that resides in each of us, governing our complicated bodies and connected with nature and its even vaster intelligence. Call them what you want–even call them God–but they’re intelligences, not people.
But it does mean that there’s no reason that the “existence of God”, such as it may be, needs to rule out us making our own moral decisions as best as we can in each situation. (For one thing, if I wait for God to do it, I might be here a long time!) And the argument against rules–not laws, but moral principles like the Ten Commandments–is that they can’t really help us make those decisions (any more than our own internal gut-compass can, or what Mom told us when we were kids, or what we learned from our friends as teenagers) — no matter what principles you have, they can’t take every salient moral fact into consideration, so we have to think it all through from scratch anyway. And if they can’t guide moral decisions, then what good are the principles? Why have them at all, or at least, why give them absolute moral force?
Heh, methinks this is a debate that might never end. It’s a darn good thing we’re not doing it in person, or one or both of us might starve to death! ;)
Jesus had true love and calls us to attain it as far as we can. He became man and gave his life for humanity even though he is untouched by our demise.
True love transforms people. Signs of someone’s transformation is that they work miracles. Where the Holy Spirit is nature changes. Miracles have been wrought throughout history and to our own day, although now people with God living inside them are either hiding it or are not aware of it themselves. Miracles are for those who need them. The world has a huge history of miracles and does not need anymore. If they do not believe in those miracles, then they will not believe in new ones. The Apostles are the first who worked miracles, and left us a description of life in the Holy Spirit.
I do not see how the fallacy you described applies to this. But there is perfect love. It crucified itself for the world.
You do not understand what prosopon (”person”) means in Christian terms. The classical meaning for prosopon is a mask worn by actors in a theater. Christian writers took that word but gave it a new meaning to describe their idea, because there was no classical Greek word for it. The words prosopon and individual are actually opposites in meaning. All humans have a common nature, meaning what they are and what they do. An individual is a unique set of traits shared by humanity. But those traits are common, shared, by human nature. For example, I have brown eyes and black hair and other traits which only I have, but each trait can be found in someone else. My mind is a trait, my conscience. We all have a mind and conscience. Prosopon means that which is unique to you or me which can not be found anywhere else: is not shared by human nature. What is truely unique about you. Try to think of a trait you have which does not exist anywhere else. You won’t be able to do it. But there is something personally unique about you. God is one God in three persons. The three persons have a common divine nature. The divine nature does not exist by itself without a person. Only the three persons exist, and they are exactly the same, fully divine, except each of the three is a person. They are not individuals because they are the same, perfect. They share the same combination of traits, perfectly. You following me? Prosopon does not mean a mortal, human or individual. You can not see three perfect persons separately. We make an intellectual division, but they are not divided. They are both three (personally) and one (perfectly divine) at the same time.
God gave us free will. He did not want us to be dependant robots. He wants us to love him freely, by free choice. Love can only be free. In no instance will God take from us our free will. If we want to go to destruction, he will let us go. Any other way he will actually destroy in us the ability to be like him and share in him intimately. God gave us a gospel. The gospel is his promise to us if we turn to him. If we remain on our own, without God, then we die eternally, because God is the only source of life. We are completely free to chose life or death. There is absolutely no compulsion. Our own suffering by estrangment from God in this life is our warning about what we are doing. God does not punish, our suffering is the the matter of fact result of our state of estrangment. God has no joy in our suffering. He wants us to return to him so that he can make us happy in the way we are intended for: sharing in God’s life. God’s guidance is his Word, which became flesh and dwelt among us. Your example of someone finding an answer in quietude is still a natural event. Where God is, nature changes. That is what a miracle is, when the law of nature is abolished by a higher power. God spoke to us through prophets. The events the prophets described in detail came to pass long after their death. They could not have deduced those events with such accuray by any intelligence they have by nature, not in quietude or otherwise. Their word was the word of God.
You are so intellectual. We do not need to think it all through from scratch. You seem to either want rules that can anticipate every possible detail or nothing? Why can’t we make up rules as we go? Or, why can we not ask someone who has more experience in questions of our religious lives? Why can we not be guided by a living elder, and take his or her word as the word of God? Grace-filled elders guide us like lamps because we see in them the presence of the transformation I keep describing. The main sign is god-like love. I don’t understand what you mean by letting God make the decision. We need to look for guidance ourselves first, learn what is good, and do what we know is good and refrain from what we know is evil. God already told us what he wants us to do. We need to learn what he said.
If someone sincerely seeking God wants to know what is the best thing to do in a particular situation and there is no one to ask and no guidance from books, God will show them himself what to do. But they need to seek the other sources first. Someone who sincerely seeks God will keep seeking and knocking until the door is open for them. They will not tire and go away. We know where he is, and he is waiting for us to prepare the garment of our souls so that we are ready and fitting to meet him in the bridal chamber and live in love and intimacy forever.
Hmm. This one was WAAAY too preachy for my taste, and the first few paragraphs especially are pure speculation, so I’m going to ignore that part because I have a feeling that I couldn’t answer in a way you wouldn’t see as rude. Like I said before — my problem with theology. People assume these things and won’t have a conversation “from scratch”, which, yes, is important to me. Why? Because I’ve been disillusioned at every turn by religion and its “elders”, quite simply. I don’t trust them because they’re not trustworthy, and what do you think of a philosophy that purports itself to be all these wonderful things, but then demands that you confess yourself to closet alcoholics and child molesters? Yes, that was one snarky example, but it still stands that I’ve never in my whole life met a Christian who “got it” any better than I do. All this talk of peace and love and happiness, all this talk and no action whatsoever. For every peaceful religious person you show me, I can show you a peaceful nonreligious person; but religious bigots seem to outnumber nonreligious ones ten to one. I love your grasp of the material, and your tenacity, but I would advise giving up on converting me. ;)
I really like the explanation of prosopon < --> individual; very cool and relevant. And if you were to strip all the (very pretty) metaphors out of the rest of your reply, I think we would find that we’re mostly in agreement about the mechanics of applying morality.
Peace!
-PD
If we are in agreement about morality, then I think this discussion is a wrap.
I have a degree in theology and religious studies. Any academic discipline has its own language. If I sound preachy, it is no doubt because I am speaking the language I was taught. I do not know how to describe what I know without this language. It is the result of all the pastoral training I have.
ok, cancel the metaphors then. My first and second paragraphs are not speculation. People have been transformed and worked miracles through there prayers. People are still healed by sacraments, icons, and prayers held for them. I am not making this up. If you want documentation then I can provide that too.
Tell me what you think. Chances are if I don’t like your answers then I can explain why. This is what dialogue is about. But please spare me something really rude. Actually, I thought I was having a conversation from scratch.
You are taking the worst examples and applying them to the whole picture. Your discription is of exceptions. I don’t know what action you are expecting. People are not angels. No one is perfect. Maybe you are expecting the wrong thing? I also did not think I was trying to convert you. I was telling it the way I see it, regardless of how you would perceive it. I don’t think I am having fantasies about this. Having heard me out this far, you should probably suspect that I have a reason for talking the way I do.
Agreed; this discussion is a wrap, though I’ll forever be curious as to WHY we agree about morality. ;)
I could just as easily argue that you are taking the BEST examples and applying them to everything, you know. Religion still hasn’t come close to answering for all the intolerance, bloodshed, inhumanity and warfare it has *directly* caused.
I will try to be nice about your academic terminology, since you’re nice about mine, but please understand I can’t simply put aside my hard-earned personal view that theological terminology is barely academic by nature, and while I promise to try not to take it too personally (though that’s an effort for me), I can’t promise not to call it out on grounds of logic. Using “Jesus performed miracles” (for example) as a premise to an argument and then showing that the conclusion follows from that premise only proves that the steps are valid; it does NOT prove that the argument is sound (i.e. that the premises are true).
Ha, I enjoy talking to you far more than I’ve ever enjoyed Church. ;)
-PD