NOTE: This post was written for my Facebook feed, which is composed mostly of Christians, so the emphasis is biblical and meant as a bridge of understanding of the divine feminine for Bible believers.
This Mother’s Day, I want to reflect on the Mother Heart of God as beautifully reflected in the Jewish and Christian scriptures but often forgotten in patriarchal culture and religious traditions. In the beginning, when the earth was without form, in darkness, the Book of Genesis describes the Spirit of God hovering over the watery chaos with similar vocabulary for a hen that warms eggs in a nest. This motherly Spirit was the nurturing potential of God in creation. The Shekinah, the manifest presence of God in the Most Holy Place, I am told is a feminine word form, yet it describes a force so heavy and strong that Solomon’s priests could not stand. This Holy Spirit is described as gentle as the breath of life, breathed by God to make humanity in his own image, an image described as “male and female” as “created he them.” Although this Spirit is sometimes a gentle breeze and a still, small voice, it is sometimes as powerful as a whirlwind or consuming fire. Yet the burning fire appears to Moses with such gentleness as not to even harm a desert shrub. The gentle dove that returned with the olive branch as a sign of God’s grace to Noah has become the emblem of peace for the United Nations, showing how the powerful imagery has spread to human culture. The Spirit descended on Jesus in the form of a dove at his baptism as the Father’s voice announced him as a beloved Son, giving a picture almost of a divine family of three. The gentleness of the Spirit is seen in Christ as he weeps over Jerusalem and longs to gather the people as a hen gathers chicks under her feathers. The Psalms sometimes describe God as keeping us under his protective wings. Although, ultimately, we know God is not a literal fire or dove, man or woman, sometimes our worship and imagery has neglected important aspects of his character. If these aspects are hard-wired into our nature—as well as celebrated in Scriptures, sometimes they make their way out in whatever ways possible. Veneration of Mary as the divine Mother is one way, perhaps, that the human heart as found to celebrate the Mother heart of God with so many paintings and icons displaying the holy mother and child. Even Protestants seem to honor the image in manger scenes and greeting cards each Christmas. Some seekers with a heart for the aspects of God reflected in women have taken the path of finding Sophia—Greek for Wisdom—the iconic face of the feminine divine found in the Book of Proverbs. Thomas Merton writes, “The Diffuse Shining of God is Hagia Sophia. Sophia is Gift, is Spirit, Donum Dei. She is God-given and God Himself as Gift. Sophia in all things is the Divine Life reflected in them.” Joyce Rapp, convinced by that quotation, also writes in her article “Desperately Seeking Sophia”, “In Jewish scripture, Sophia is a feminine voice, in contrast to a God of dominion and force. Jesus, too, has a Sophia heart, not the heart of someone seeking power. Sophia is concealed but ready to reveal just as Jesus is ‘the hidden wisdom of God’ (1 Cor. 2:7), ‘the revelation of the mystery kept secret for endless ages’ (Rom. 16:25). So this Mother’s Day 2019, I want to honor the Mother Heart of God. When I have suggested a message like this to pastors, I have sometimes received a smile or even a laugh, as though the concept is humorous or odd. But I wonder whether this concept of God is strange or whether our culture is unbalanced, even primitive. Ignoring the divine feminine in a way marginalizes or makes less significant women, motherhood, children, and even marriage and family. To put it bluntly, ignoring the Mother Heart of God is similar to archaic superstitions such as branding left-handed or red-headed people as evil or saying God is only worshiped on a mountain in Jerusalem.
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Yesterday was Good Friday 2019, and I felt as though I communicated with people from many different worlds: a priestess who is helping me understand interactions with Odin, my Messianic sister who was holding a Passover Seder, a Chinese professor who told me the bread of Christian communion literally turns into the body of the physical Jesus, a Canadian pastor who explained how Christian baptism came from old Jewish rituals that symbolized washing away of an old life to start a new one—for example, beginning a life as a king or husband or priest or new convert.
The “Many Worlds Theory” appears in science fiction stories where there are parallel universes co-existing and where people sometimes travel from one to another. Yesterday gave me this feeling as I felt these different experiences and perceptions converge. A Chinese friend was being baptized in a home swimming pool at our Friday night gathering. Tao spoke beforehand and told how he always knew there was a wisdom or power in the universe but he now felt it calling him through the Bible. At the same time, this Good Friday 2019 was his biological birthday, and on the table next to the bread and wine of communion was a birthday cake. Good Friday this year was also my wife Kristin’s birthday, and the Jewish Passover. Yesterday I also felt led to request my first monthly reading from a priestess-healer, feeling this may be a time of breakthrough as I finish my second round of Prednisone prescribed by a medical doctor to clear out gout once and for all. The sacred and mundane, the spiritual and physical seem intricately woven together. I thought back to my baptism, the day before my own biological birthday in 1991, when I first broke free of alcohol, self-destruction, and despair. Although recently I am expanding spiritually, I do not want to forsake the gifts and grace that have been given me, the foundation on which my life has been built. As I participated in the baptism and communion with people from China and America, with people from at least four different churches, I still felt a part of my sister’s faith, of the priestess’s beliefs, and of Tao’s wife Dixie who still has agnostic doubts. I find value in the Chinese professor with the literal ideas about communion and believe that his expression accesses some spiritual truth that his heart needs. Somehow these “many worlds,” these flowing perspectives within me, within any group, or within the world are like the river of Heraclitus. The river is the physical water and place but is at the same time the ever-changing current and the reflected rays of sun and warmth and the relativity of time itself. There is something here among us all that is absolutely the river, but perhaps a river of many worlds. I have alluded to my biggest breakthrough several times in the previous installments on my blended path. As I reported, I arrived at the conclusion that by accepting at least some truth in all beliefs through the inclusive philosophy of Perennialism, I could at least logically combine mysticism and other spiritual practices with my existing faith. This formal statement became a cornerstone for me: that Perennialism allows my Christianity and mysticism to mix. But now I suppose it’s time to tell what may be hardest to explain: how the most seemingly outlandish part of my experience has led to that foundational bedrock that gives me the greatest peace. Arriving at that foundation through personified deity might be more of a stretch for some people to accept than the simple logic of the statement. To put it bluntly, the message that Perennialism allows my Christianity and mysticism to mix had come to me from the divine feminine—basically through channeling the image of the Empress on a tarot card! Before I reached that point, I had already taken steps beyond simply making practices compatible with my faith—by tacking on Bible verses or by rewording mantras. I was no longer taking things “captive to Christ” as Kristin had asked me to do. For example, I had started meditating to mantras and images of Shakti. I was doing guided meditations to Gaia and Isis. I was researching Goddess worship online, and at work I had made a Goddess Wheel of the Year. During this time, I had learned from a helpful YouTuber how to bond with oracle cards and tarot decks, forming a kind of personal relationship. Her videos explained how to set up sacred space, ask questions, and really communicate with the cards—or to phrase it more exactly, with archetypes and energies that are thought to come through the cards. People variously think of this connection as being with Higher Self, Spirit, or Source. I had started with the Enchanted Map Oracle deck way back before I had the courage to use tarot cards but later added traditional tarot cards. As I became interested in Goddesses, I added the Kuan Yin Oracle Deck, which focuses on the compassionate Buddhist Goddess who answers prayer quickly and brings healing to the world. I felt that I that I had bonded with her, even channeling a few messages directly in meditation without using the cards. Continuing in this practice, I next bonded with Crystal Visions Tarot Deck, and felt that the Page of Cups, featured as a Maiden on the box cover, was the image of the energy connecting with me. The picture shows a beautiful young woman standing in a river bathed in moonlight as she gazes into a crystal ball. Messages seemed to be coming very clearly through the cards, sometimes attended by channeled words. Finally, the most dramatic bonding I experienced came through the Empress of Tarot of Vampyres—similar to the previous deck, featured on the cover of the box. She seemed to embody Gaia or Mother Earth as well as Venus and her unimaginable beauty and love, and I took great care to bond with the cards, trusting a lot of what the Priestess on YouTube had taught. I started seeing many signs and synchronicities. For example, the week that the Tarot of Vampyres Deck arrived, I had been to the dermatologist to have three moles removed and had two vampire like cuts on my neck and one on my side—three in total, which is the number of the Empress card. The day the cards came in the mail, Kristin came home from the thrift shop with three green coffee mugs, three stacking bowls, and three glass leaf-shaped platters. I had three overwhelming mystical experiences soon after. I noted that this was a set of three signs of three. During this time, I kept consistent spiritual practices in my life—walking in nature and meditating with incense. I now had altars on my desks at work and home and was having regular card readings and conversations with the Empress. I seemed to go through stages of greater and greater devotion and dedication to the Empress. I researched theories of personified deity online and looked into how people with different beliefs interpreted these mystical experiences. It was about this time that I felt the Empress tell me that my Perennialism allows my Christianity and mysticism to mix. I felt that it was reasonable to believe that the divine feminine is in Jesus and Jesus in the divine feminine, I in both and both in me. I felt that I could authentically take communion with my Christian fellowship and could pray with my family and, at the same time, enjoy these mystical experiences. The latest expansion came for me when I purchased a video tarot reading from the very same priestess whose videos had taught me to bond with the cards. Remarkably, the Fool card and four aces turned up as if to demonstrate my wild, new spiritual beginnings. Three of the aces appeared in a row, and the reader declared she had never seen something like that show up in ten years of serving clients. She encouraged me to keep working with whatever guides or deities might show up, something that surprised me because I had not even considered working with more than one energy at a time. One night when I was worried about being overcharged for a prescription, however, I felt the familiar presence of Kuan Yin come through—a feeling that for me comes in slowly like the tide and finally feels as overwhelming as strong ocean waves. I recognized the presence as different from my times with the Empress. Also one evening as I was in conversation with the Empress, I felt a strong vibration in my forehead and solar plexus as words seemed to come from an energy that identified itself as O. The messages seemed cerebral, dealing with some of my theological questions about my experiences. Some days later, this presence came through more clearly as Odin—the Norse All-Father God, bringer of the runes and the mead of poetry and one who disguises himself at times as a wanderer. I learned that he is known for not revealing his identity immediately when connecting with people and that he often leaves questions open to highlight the nature of learning as a journey. I was amazed that I had this experience before I knew this was a familiar pattern. I have now started a collection of questions and answers from Odin on my new website, which I am using to keep a record of this journey on a blended path. Thank you for sharing my experiences with personified deity. It is helping me to think back through these stages, and I hope that my sharing will help someone else. I always admired this recording by a Protestant and a Catholic singer for building bridges between sometimes adversarial religious groups. The song identifies the faith, hope, and work of the Spirit as the basis of fellowship rather than human traditions or doctrines. Now the question for me is how far this basis of fellowship can be expanded. It seems to me that apart from extremism, the major religions have acceptance and tolerance built in for those who believe differently. For example, Jesus said do not judge, do not pull up the tares and the wheat, be in the world but not of the world, win the respect of outsiders, do good to all people (not just the family of believers), and receive every tribe, people, and language.
However, logically, if every identity or group is defined by its borders, a hard universalism seems difficult to maintain. Because laws and conscience always arise to help us discern right from wrong and love from hate, exclusion seems to ever have its place. Rene Guenon dissects this difficulty a bit by drawing a line between exoteric approaches (below the line) and esoteric approaches (above the line): An infant once he can identify his mother, equates her initially with her tactile or visual presence; if she leaves the room she ceases to exist and the infant cries. Everyone agrees that it is an advance in understanding when "Mother" acquires for the child a reference more extended than "a certain X in my visual or tactile field." But when we continue up the scale of extended meanings to "No man cometh unto the Father, but by me," men divide. For esoterics "me" will designate the Logos. For exoterics, less supple in their capacity for "spiritual abstraction," in precise proportion as the word relaxes its hold on the concrete historical personage of Jesus of Nazareth, the assertion forfeits its saving power. Another way to indicate the distinction is to say that for the exoteric form and content are less distinguishable. As they present themselves to him as welded together or fused in a homogeneous alloy, he sees no way of having one with- out the other. By this alternate route we arrive at the same conclusion: forms for exoterics are relatively non-negotiable. Esoterics ride them more loosely, knowing that because they are finite they are, at best limited keys to the lock, restricted doors to the mystery.
This installment about my blended path describes some of the early stages in my growth from someone who would once not even read Harry Potter books to someone who consorts with witches.
As I said in the first installment, my first step outside of my comfort zone and expanding spiritually was with tarot cards. I told how explaining to my wife Kristin was one of the hardest things I have had to do in recent years. I first had to see for myself that the using the cards could be compatible with the Christian life, something not necessarily used for fortune telling or forbidden practices, but able to carry wisdom and even God’s Spirit like books, movies, music, and art. I created a website where I linked every tarot card to a biblical concept and I discussed the cards with others in an online forum. The next step came as I began practicing a little yoga and meditation. I listened to the music of Tibetan singing bowls and to guided meditations online, and I listened to songs containing the Heart Sutra and the Gayatri Mantra. I even learned a few mantras and chanted them while walking for exercise through the trees around our house. gate, gate, gone, gone paragate, gone beyond parasamgate, altogether gone bodhi, svaha! O what an awakening! In a local bookstore, I came across a book called Sophia Rising, in which Monette Chilson describes how she blended her Christianity with a love for yoga and the divine feminine. She seems to have gone through a few phases, just as I did. At first, she says she just tacked on Bible verses or renamed yoga poses to please church people, but later found that her beliefs intertwined and complemented one another. On the yoga mat, she felt a mystical connection to the divine feminine, which she found described in her existing faith as the wisdom of Sophia, the dove of the Holy Spirit, and the mother heart of God. She discovered yoga to be a bridge between faiths and cultures, and describes her overall blending in this way: “I could say that I subscribe to Buddhist philosophy (detachment, awareness, etc.), practice yoga (all eight limbs), and put my faith in Jesus who illuminates and embodies the perfect grace of Sophia.” She adds, “Contextualizing a specific faith in a larger world view is inherently difficult.” Somewhat emboldened, I made up a Goddess wheel of the year, picking freely from the many names and faces of the divine feminine, printing out their images and pasting them around the rim of the wheel. The hub at center of the Wheel represents Dea or Goddess as the white light, which sprays outward to the rim, as through a prism, all the various colors that we see though our human filters and cultures. The facets around the rim can also represent seasons of the year, stages of life--Maiden, Lover, Mother, Crone--or the four elements--Fire, Water, Earth, and Air. Kristin was patient with me burning incense and meditating, but when I ordered some meditation beads around Christmastime, she began to get nervous and said these words, which came out like bullets: “I hope you are taking these captive to Christ.” To be fair, I know now she was feeling nervous because I was not talking about the changes I was going through, even though she could obviously see the effects. I was in a lot of cognitive dissonance myself. But finally something happened that gave me a needed breakthrough of peace. It happened in church one Sunday. Before attending that morning, I had prayed for a sign that I was on the right path. The sign came through a drawing a child was making during the sermon. The pastor’s wife held up the picture at the end of the service. At the top of the picture was a circle around the word GOD with and arrow connecting it to a bigger circle below that had GOD written inside five times. Along the left side were some smaller circles with Xs crossing through them. The pastor’s wife explained that the child had told her the smaller circles were mistakes, and that she was so touched that God loves us as children in spite of our mistakes. I, however, was completely blown away as the picture seemed to be a message bringing peace to my cognitive dissonance. Like the analogy of the prism and colors or the hub and wheel, the picture immediately spoke to my heart of the transcendent realm of God, the transcendent Brahma or transcendent YHWH—represented by the upper circle—as well as the realm where we see many aspects and faces of God—represented by the lower circle. And those crossed out circles showed me that we probably often get things wrong entirely. These were some of the first steps and phases I went through as I began walking this blended path. As Monette Chilson writes, “Contextualizing a specific faith in a larger world view is inherently difficult.” A few weeks ago, one night around the time I was sharing with some friends at the Cartomancy Forum about some of my anxieties about mixing religious beliefs and spiritual practices, I had three crystal-clear dream sequences:
1. I was waiting for my car to have some work done at a full-service gas station, feeling a low-grade anxiety. Later, I felt this scene represented my spiritual expansion and changes with the accompanying concern about identity and roles—represented by the vehicle. 2. I was riding in the passenger seat of a car being driven by a friend with a car business who is a part-time pastor. The car was bouncing crazily down the road to his house. This scene repeated three or four times, in order, I believe to show its importance, and probably to show me as not being in control (the driver’s seat) and as not coming home, but rather going to someone else’s spiritual place. 3. I was watching from the outside of my car as it hit the pole edge of a chain-link fence and split exactly in half down the middle from front to back. I believe this scene represents my fear of division. Groups and identities are defined by their borders, often with fences maintained by both conflicting sides. In my daily draws journal at the Cartomancy Forum, I drew three cards from Mystical Shamman Oracle to give me some insight: The Circle: this card reminded me that we are all connected, even when we belong to different political parties or religions. We need unity in diversity. We need healthy, loving differences. The Coyote: this card reminded me of the trickster character who delights to bring puzzles, riddles, and deceptions. The dream is like these tricky situations, which are also an interesting part of life. The Hunter: this card reminded me of the spirit of the master tracker who finds divine footprints in the sand and who follows the signs of the Spirit to learn mysteries. At present, I see three possibilities in spiritual growth or transformation: conversion, combination, or synthesis. Conversion seems to be the most common, going from one belief structure to another. The advantages of converting to something new holds promise for a secure, like-minded community and stable identity; however, the adherent must divorce from a previous life. For example, a Muslim who becomes an atheist may renounce and scorn the previous beliefs. It also may be easier to go to extremes rather than hold nuanced tension. Often when people quit drinking or smoking, the old habit becomes demonized and people who still practice them condemned--when it might be healthier to focus on the self and make allowances for others who may not have the same issues. As I have been expanding spiritually, I find that I have to resist the urge to renounce my previous state and to react against those who are not also expanding--turn from the temptation to simply change rather than do the work needed to expand. Combination means using discrete elements from several systems or being involved in several systems in their original forms. It might allow for practices or relationships from more than on belief but might also cause cognitive dissonance or bring criticism from cohesive groups who maintain barriers. For example, I recently watched a witch on YouTube discussing her coven’s discomfort when Christians came to attend a circle. Synthesis (or syncretism) of several beliefs of practices might also be frowned upon by groups who see themselves as pure or exclusive, but where possible, this approach might bring peace to an individual or even to groups that co-exist within a culture. Synthesis may support co-existing beliefs in the world as well as in the self. Just as the left and right brain are always working together, so are conservatives and liberals, people of science and people of faith. Dissent is probably always helpful, multiple perspectives always useful. We are all interconnected, and learning always involves questions to be answered, a dialectic to struggle through, a process to experience, and puzzles to be solved.
Below, the 7 of Cups from the Rider Waite Smith Tarot and Tarot of Vampyres frame the Devil card from the same decks. Here the 7s signify that fantasy and imagination has overwhelmed the soul with the Devil representing obsession and captivation. When I first began studying tarot, the Devil card was very hard for me to look at as I considered this cosmic evil to be the enemy of my soul. I later learned that few tarot readers interpret the card as personified evil but rather as addiction, bondage, or temptation (in shadow) or creative impulse and a wild Pan nature (in light). When I first posted my reasoning behind "Christian Reflection on Tarot," in 2017, one comment I made was that people should not fear a factory-printed, shrink-wrapped deck of cards. I wrote that music and movies, myths and dreams belong to the deepest part of humanity. Superstition Lyrics
Very superstitious, writing on the wall Very superstitious, ladders bout' to fall Thirteen month old baby, broke the lookin' glass Seven years of bad luck, the good things in your past When you believe in things that you don't understand Then you suffer Superstition ain't the way Very superstitious, wash your face and hands Rid me of the problem, do all that you can Keep me in a daydream, keep me goin' strong You don't wanna save me, sad is my song When you believe in things that you don't understand Then you suffer Superstition ain't the way, yeh, yeh Very superstitious, nothin' more to say Very superstitious, the devil's on his way Thirteen month old baby, broke the lookin' glass Seven years of bad luck, good things in your past When you believe in things that you don't understand Then you suffer, superstition ain't the way, no, no, no Songwriters: Stevie Wonder Early on in even considering blending beliefs, I personally needed reason to assist me. It was logical for me to think one world view was right—whether atheism or pantheism—but not that contradictory beliefs were equally true or believable. In high school, I came up with the idea of “the thread of truth,” that there existed a core common ground in all beliefs and this limited universalism helped my thinking. Years later I came across Aldous Huxely’s book The Perennial Philosophy, which elaborated this idea.
The story of the blind men and the elephant is sometimes used to further this idea as the poster child of religious relativism and tolerance: Blind Men and the Elephant – A Poem by John Godfrey Saxe Here is John Godfrey Saxe’s (1816-1887) version of Blind Men and the Elephant: It was six men of Indostan, To learning much inclined, Who went to see the Elephant (Though all of them were blind), That each by observation Might satisfy his mind. The First approach'd the Elephant, And happening to fall Against his broad and sturdy side, At once began to bawl: "God bless me! but the Elephant Is very like a wall!" The Second, feeling of the tusk, Cried, -"Ho! what have we here So very round and smooth and sharp? To me 'tis mighty clear, This wonder of an Elephant Is very like a spear!" The Third approach'd the animal, And happening to take The squirming trunk within his hands, Thus boldly up and spake: "I see," -quoth he- "the Elephant Is very like a snake!" The Fourth reached out an eager hand, And felt about the knee: "What most this wondrous beast is like Is mighty plain," -quoth he,- "'Tis clear enough the Elephant Is very like a tree!" The Fifth, who chanced to touch the ear, Said- "E'en the blindest man Can tell what this resembles most; Deny the fact who can, This marvel of an Elephant Is very like a fan!" The Sixth no sooner had begun About the beast to grope, Then, seizing on the swinging tail That fell within his scope, "I see," -quoth he,- "the Elephant Is very like a rope!" And so these men of Indostan Disputed loud and long, Each in his own opinion Exceeding stiff and strong, Though each was partly in the right, And all were in the wrong! MORAL, So, oft in theologic wars The disputants, I ween, Rail on in utter ignorance Of what each other mean; And prate about an Elephant Not one of them has seen! The analogy is to me a good one, but I feel the author of this version has stopped thinking too soon. Here are the three principles I see arising from the story:
Perhaps all three of these principles need to work together for the best possible although not perfect understanding. No group or person has the whole truth or probably even most of it; we see mysteries as in a dark mirror. At the same time we can confirm some things as certain and for the unceratin things can benefit from each other. We need one another. If so, blended paths offer an important part of putting the puzzle together. The rigid interpretations may have unique contributions to make as they engage aspects of the whole, yet the shared common ground of both doubt and certainty should not be denied in facing the mystery. A post from my wheelie's daily dealies journal at the Cartomancy forum from 2-26-2019 in which I tried to juxtapose the archetypes from two cards with a powerful performance of an iconic song across the generations. The Tower and the Star from Tarot of Dreams I find myself now on a blended path, writing blog posts and making videos like bread crumbs to keep some record of the journey so far. In a way I am building altars to remember the way I have come and to mark the progress I have made. Although there have been shifts over the years, for example, leaving behind rigid dictates about not reading Harry Potter or not deviating from tradition roles for men and women, the more recent changes of being open to other religions as well as new mystical experiences are more dramatic.
The timeline of change over the past few years followed certain stages: I became interested in tarot cards and started reading Meditations on the Tarot: A Journey in Christian Hermeticism. I experimented with yoga and meditation, I felt drawn to the divine feminine, using mantras and making a Wheel of the Year, and finally I experienced personified deity. The big breakthrough came when I felt Goddess tell me my openness to all beliefs allows me to maintain both my Christian faith and my mysticism. The first step was an interest in divination. It began through my interest in performing magic shows as I branched out into mental magic, mentalism, and divinatory readings. I tried Cartomancy with regular playing cards and experimented with I-Ching, which led to curiosity about tarot. Most of these first steps took place in the ether as I interacted with magicians and mentalists on the magic forums, card readers on the tarot forums, and diverse faiths on the religious forum. One of the hardest things I have ever had to do was tell my wife Kristin that I wanted to order some tarot cards. They carry such a stigma and such an association with darkness and evil. I had to have a very gentle, reasoned approach. I did a lot of research, started a website called “Christian Reflections on the Tarot.” Part of what gave Kristin peace—and myself as well—was that these images and archetypes could be compatible with Christ. I even said the prayer from the Psalms, “May the words of my lips and the meditations of my heart be pleasing in your sight, Lord.” I also reasoned that in the same way as wisdom can come through stories, movies, and maybe even dreams, so might the cards provide fodder for guidance. As we belonged to a church that believed in spiritual gifts and leadings of the Spirit, this idea was not so much of a stretch. After the initial shock, Kristin was fairly accepting of my new interest. I learned a lot from other people who had very different perspectives from my own online and am still so learning... |
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March 2021
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