Monday, May 28, 2018

I Samuel 16:1-13

I Samuel 16:1-13

The Lord said to Samuel, “How long will you grieve over Saul? I have rejected him from being king over Israel. Fill your horn with oil and set out; I will send you to Jesse the Bethlehemite, for I have provided for myself a king among his sons.” Samuel said, “How can I go? If Saul hears of it, he will kill me.” And the Lord said, “Take a heifer with you, and say, ‘I have come to sacrifice to the Lord.’ Invite Jesse to the sacrifice, and I will show you what you shall do; and you shall anoint for me the one whom I name to you.” Samuel did what the Lord commanded, and came to Bethlehem. The elders of the city came to meet him trembling, and said, “Do you come peaceably?” He said, “Peaceably; I have come to sacrifice to the Lord; sanctify yourselves and come with me to the sacrifice.” And he sanctified Jesse and his sons and invited them to the sacrifice.
When they came, he looked on Eliab and thought, “Surely the Lord’s anointed is now before the Lord.”[a] But the Lord said to Samuel, “Do not look on his appearance or on the height of his stature, because I have rejected him; for the Lord does not see as mortals see; they look on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.” Then Jesse called Abinadab, and made him pass before Samuel. He said, “Neither has the Lord chosen this one.” Then Jesse made Shammah pass by. And he said, “Neither has the Lord chosen this one.” 10 Jesse made seven of his sons pass before Samuel, and Samuel said to Jesse, “The Lord has not chosen any of these.” 11 Samuel said to Jesse, “Are all your sons here?” And he said, “There remains yet the youngest, but he is keeping the sheep.” And Samuel said to Jesse, “Send and bring him; for we will not sit down until he comes here.” 12 He sent and brought him in. Now he was ruddy, and had beautiful eyes, and was handsome. The Lord said, “Rise and anoint him; for this is the one.” 13 Then Samuel took the horn of oil, and anointed him in the presence of his brothers; and the spirit of the Lord came mightily upon David from that day forward. Samuel then set out and went to Ramah.

I Samuel 16:1-13 has the theme of Samuel bringing oil for the anointing of a new king. This story is transitional in the canonical text in that it prepares the way for the story of the decline of Saul and rise of David that we find in I Samuel 16:14-II Samuel 1:27. It arises from prophetic circles. It arose as part of the legends around David in the time of Judah.[1]The main point is that David did not get to be king by ambition or his own action, but by divine appointment.  A secondary point is that the Lord did not give the expected choice but chose the unexpected. 1The Lord said to Samuel, “How long will you grieve over Saul? The text gives us no indication of how much time has passed. The question suggests the grief is immoderate. Samuel reluctantly had been involved in Saul’s ordination as king and had tried to shepherd the young man as best he could into being a good king. He had considered the experiment, overall, not to have turned out so bad. Samuel had invested his own reputation and energy in Saul, and God’s rejection of Saul had seemed to be a rejection of himself, and Samuel had not quite gotten over it. 

Samuel is grieving over change, even the change that God had clearly been a part of earlier. God sometimes asks us to move on, get a different plan, go somewhere else. While a suitable period of grieving over what is past and beloved is permissible, there comes a time when mourning must stop and mobilization must begin.

 

I have rejected him from being king over Israel. When Samuel first anointed him, Saul was the clear divinely inspired choice for monarch. So, what happened? The answer to this question must have presented a real problem for the authors of this part of Israel's history. They could not deny that God chose Saul as Israel's first king. They also could not deny that God eventually rejected him. Any explanation would need to present the new monarchy as a stable institution superseding that glory of the previous monarchial house. The text offers three reasons for Saul's rejection. In chapter 13, Saul makes an illegal sacrifice, after which Samuel states "The LORD has sought out a man after his own heart; and the LORD has appointed him to be ruler over his people" (13:13-14). Even though David has not arrived on the scene in chapter 13, Samuel implies God has already chosen him as Saul's replacement. Saul's second error occurs in chapter 14. After Jonathan defeats the Philistines, Saul proclaims a mandatory fast and swears that whoever breaks it will be killed. However, when the people find out it was Jonathan who broke the fast, they ransom him. This leaves Saul cursed under the conditions of his own vow. Finally, in Chapter 15, the most poignant of the stories of Saul's rejection, a humble and contrite Saul begs Samuel to forgive him for breaking the rules of holy war. He throws himself at Samuel's feet and clings to his robe. However, when the hem tears off in his hand, Samuel has no choice but to tell Saul, "The LORD has torn the kingdom of Israel from you this very day, and has given it to a neighbor of yours, who is better than you" (15:28). Ironically, this dire pronouncement is followed by an assurance that this judgment will not be reversed -- an assurance that sounds very odd given the story so far. In 15:29, Samuel tells Saul, "Moreover the Glory of Israel will not recant or change his mind for he is not a mortal, that he should change his mind." Even though the text tells us that God has had a change of mind about Saul at least twice in this same chapter (15:10, 35), the text still finds this troublesome and seeks to remove any notion that the next king might be rejected as quickly as was Saul. After this emotional parting, the author tells us that Samuel did not see Saul again until the day of his (Samuel’s) death (15:35).

Fill your horn with oil and set out; I will send you to Jesse the Bethlehemite. The Lord merely instructs Samuel to get on with it and go to Bethlehem to find Jesse, a man with eight sons, one of whom will be the new king. Jesse was of the house of Perez and grandson of Boaz and Ruth, for which see Ruth 4:17-22 and 1 Chronicles 2:3-12.[2] The reason Samuel can do this is that I have provided for myself a king among his sons.” Samuel said, “How can I go? If Saul hears of it, he will kill me.” Samuel rightly sees the problem with this when he expresses fear for his safety. Why would Saul allow the prophet to anoint a rival to his throne? Samuel’s hesitancy to go to Bethlehem for fear of reprisal from Saul (16:2) is in marked contrast to his earlier fearless confrontation with the king over the issue of contraband (15:10-31). Saul’s ability to inspire fear in the hearts of his subjects will figure prominently again in the final encounter between Saul and Samuel (chapter 28; but note that the roles are also reversed, with Saul fainting in fear at the words of Samuel, 18:20). Moreover, the Lord said, “Take a heifer with you, and say, ‘I have come to sacrifice to the Lord.’ The fact that God no longer cares for Saul is clear when God instructs Samuel on how to deceive Saul about his true intent. He is to pretend simply to be fulfilling a ritual obligation to sacrifice in case anyone asks. Invite Jesse to the sacrifice, and I will show you what you shall do; and you shall anoint for me the one whom I name to you.” Anointing (rather than crowning) was the primary ritual associated with the designation of kings in ancient Israel and throughout the ancient Near East. Anointing was also the primary means by which one designated objects, human and nonhuman, as having a special relationship with the divine. Jacob’s pillar at Bethel, a sacred object at a sacred site, was anointed with oil (Genesis 28:18), as were the tabernacle and its furnishings, especially the altar (Exodus 29:36). The power of anointing to render an object sacrosanct is the reason David refused to harm Saul, “the LORD’s anointed,” when the latter was in his power (1 Samuel 24:6, 10). However, anointing placed on the king the burden of a divinely designated duty as well as divine patronage (and, protection). He was the earthly representative of the heavenly ruler. The expectation was that the earthly king was to administer justice befitting his quasi-divine status (adoption being an important metaphor for the king’s relation to the divine; cf. Psalm 2:7). The protection of society’s most vulnerable, symbolized by the widow and the orphan, was the paramount expression of the king’s justice, and failure in that regard was viewed throughout the Bible as rank dereliction and a serious breach of the covenantal relationship between God, king and people. Samuel did what the Lord commanded, and came to Bethlehem. The elders of the city came to meet him trembling. The Bethlehemites obviously have some question as to why Samuel is in Judahite territory. Thus, the intriguing uncertainties in the story continue. They said, “Do you come peaceably?” Why the residents of Bethlehem would need reassurance of Samuel’s irenic intentions is unclear. The prophet, like his king, may have acquired a reputation for fearsomeness (which his treatment of Agag would not have meliorated), or the elders’ question may reflect hostilities otherwise unmentioned in the biblical text. They want to know if he has come for peaceful purposes. The fact that he is Saul's councilor of war, who did not receive the support of everyone unconditionally (10:27), may have made them think that Samuel's visit had military overtones. He said, “Peaceably; I have come to sacrifice to the Lord; sanctify yourselves and come with me to the sacrifice.” He sanctified Jesse and his sons and invited them to the sacrifice.

When they came, he looked on Eliab and thought, “Surely the Lord’s anointed is now before the Lord.” Both Samuel and Jesse appear convinced they know what constitutes a pleasing, upright individual before God.  Samuel the priest is sure that the first of Jesse's sons, Eliab, is the cone intended for kingly anointing.  However, Samuel the prophet receives quite a different message from the Lord.However, the Lord said to Samuel, by casting lots, “Do not look on his appearance or on the height of his stature. The mention of the height of Eliab as something attractive about him is interesting. The height of Saul also made him attractive. The reason is because I have rejected him; for the Lord does not see as mortals see; they look on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.” We look at people and rush to judgment based on first impressions or outward appearances. Yet, image is not everything. Appearances can deceive. The Lord cuts through all the appearances and masks we love to wear for each other and looks deep into the real self that we often hide under all those layers of makeup, material things and make-believe roles we play. Beauty and goodness do not automatically equate. Eliab may have been a new Saul since his appearance may have been striking.  A traditional proverb reminds us that a mule dressed in a tuxedo is still a mule. People have often commented that our concern ought to be with character rather than reputation. Reputation is who you are in public. Character is whom you are when no one is looking. 

 Then Jesse called Abinadab, and made him pass before Samuel. Jesse becomes the next one eager to select the most likely of his sons for Samuel’s scrutiny.  Though the text does not record Samuel telling Jesse of his true mission, Jesse recognizes that this old prophet and kingmaker is on the lookout for someone for some great purpose.  He said, “Neither has the Lord chosen this one.” Then Jesse made Shammah, called Shimea in I Chronicles 2:13, 20:7, and II Samuel 21:21, pass by. He said, “Neither has the Lord chosen this one.” 10 Jesse made seven of his sons pass before Samuel, and Samuel said to Jesse, “The Lord has not chosen any of these.” 11 Samuel said to Jesse, “Are all your sons here?” Jesse's response demeans his next son. He said, “There remains yet the youngest, but he is keeping the sheep.” The youngest is not present when dad invited the rest to an important sacrificial ceremony.  Samuel said to Jesse, “Send and bring him; for we will not sit down until he comes here.” Samuel immediately demands that they not only bring this eighth son to him for consideration, but he further elevates this boy's importance by refusing to begin any of the feasting rituals until they bring him.   The story now treats the uninvited as the long-awaited guest of honor. 12 He sent and brought him in. Now he was ruddy, had beautiful eyes, and was handsome. Ruddiness was a characteristic coupled with pale, milky skin.  Indeed, the Philistine Goliath found David's fragile beauty a matter for soldierly contempt and dismissal.  Physical symptoms give evidence of divine favor. It is the familiar biblical theme of the younger son being divinely favored in preference to his older brother(s), one of the several biblical reminders of the variance between divine and human ways. Nevertheless, the Lord sees the heart. This would have to be true, because the text does not try to deny, even after David's brothers have been rejected and he, the unlikely youngest, has been chosen, that David himself was physically attractive! The Lord may have valued his heart, but David was also, like Saul, good to look at. The beauty of kings (as well as queens) was commonplace in the ancient world, of course, but the text before us is at pains to repudiate such mundane and unreliable characteristics of a ruler’s true merit. What seems more likely than the biblical writer’s unreflectively adopting a royal cliché is a foreshadowing of the troubles ahead for David and his various interpersonal relationships, especially those (such as with the wife of Uriah the Hittite, Bathsheba, II Samuel 11; and Saul’s son, Jonathan, I Samuel 18) predicated upon his personal charisma. David’s physical and emotional attractiveness would work to his life’s woe as well as its weal. The Lord said, “Rise and anoint him; for this is the one.” The text shows the importance of prophetic anointing and divine election. The emphasis is on the divine freedom to choose the next king.   As unlikely candidates for kingship, both David and Saul represent Israel's own self-perception as an underdog nation. It is no strength or worthiness of their own that results in God's favor. It is only because the Lord saw into the hearts of Israel's founders that the Lord found them worthy. In this, we can see that God's choice of David and Saul, flawed as they both were, mirrors God's choice of Israel, and God's choice of us all. The Lord's message to Samuel, however, is unequivocal -- "This is the one" (v. 12).  With no hesitation, therefore, Samuel anoints David -- although only in the presence of his immediate family.  13 Then Samuel took the horn of oil, and anointed him in the presence of his brothers. Prophetic anointing replaces the pattern in the Judges period of popular acclamation. Now the free divine election of a shepherd boy from Judah replaces the popular election of the handsome, from a wealthy nobleman's family.  This text is an important example of the thought that the election traditions of Israel always connect with an historical act on the part of the Lord that forms the starting point and basis of salvation history with the people of the Lord. Related to this concept are statements about the election of individuals, especially King David. The point is that the election of individuals has a close attachment to the social relation on behalf of the people. [3] Further, the spirit of the Lord came mightily upon David from that day forward. The breath of life given to all of us at creation becomes a special endowment with the Spirit of God. Yet, this does not mean a special and momentary ecstatic experience, but of forms of lasting endowment with the Spirit of God. From the moment of his anointing, the nature of David's kingship is radically different from Saul's kingship.  This abiding Spirit makes possible the Davidic covenant theology that establishes David's house forever. [4]The notion of this divine presence that accompanied David for the rest of his life was the theological construal later generations, around 750-721 BC. It explained his phenomenal success in establishing a monarchy that lasted half a millennium. He was both a witness and the one who enabled the transformation of Israel from an insignificant tribal confederation to one of the most important presences of the area. This is in stark contrast to the following passage in which the text says that an evil spirit had come upon Saul (16:14). Samuel then set out and went to Ramah. Samuel returns to Ramah. In the face of Israel's greatest threat, the Philistine army, Samuel oversees the establishment of Israel's greatest experiment -- the monarchy. 

I offer a brief meditation based upon this passage. 

We often find it easy to evaluate people by their appearance. Of course, we simply show care for self and respect for others with our sense of physical hygiene and dress. However, some people have natural beauty and strength that opens many doors early in life. Some people have natural unattractive features that have closed many doors early in their lives. We instinctively sense the unfairness of such evaluations. Yet, most of us have been on the giving and receiving end of such evaluations. In an age when physical images have become increasingly important, we can forget that the most important aspect of any of us is our character. Who are we? Appearance will change with the passage of time. What remains with us is our character. It takes time to build character. We build character, in part, through what we do when no one is looking, in our times of reflection and prayer, the shows we watch, the books we read, and so on. God seems most interested in forming our character. God sees us for who we are. God sees the heart. We find it difficult to know our own hearts, let alone the hearts of others. Yet, I think God wants us to develop the insight that we must look beyond theexternal appearance of the circumstance. In the process, we may allow others to deceive us less, and we may appreciate people whom we might otherwise ignore. God wants to form our inner life in a way that our whole lives will reflect the will and purpose of God. 

The choices God makes have no necessity attached to them. We can see this fact in the story of the decline and fall of Saul and the rise of David. At one time, God chose Saul, the first king of the twelve tribes. However, later, through a series of choices Saul made, God rejects Saul and tells Samuel to anoint another. The choices of God are always free. It took Samuel a while to adjust. He seemed to grieve over this rejection, but in the mind of the Lord, a little too long (I Samuel 16:1). It was time for Samuel, and for Israel, to move on to the next phase of its history.

Samuel himself seems confused by the choices of God. He looks at the sons of Jesse, finds all of them handsome, but discovers that God does not choose any of the sons brought forward by Jesse. Of course, in this familiar story, the end consists of God choosing the youngest, David, for the future king. 

Things have not changed. The beautiful, the tall, and the eldest, often receive preferential treatment. A little honesty and self-examination will show that the Samuel bias runs through most of us. If people are beautiful, they must be interesting. If they are wealthy, they must be wise. If they show strength, they must be confident. We assume the internals based on the externals and the appearance rather than the heart (I Samuel 16:7). 

Samuel is much like us. He thought he knew the telltale signs of spiritual strength, that he could discern the power of a man by taking the measure of his pecs, abs, and triceps. He judged a person's fitness in the weight room as a measure of his fitness for the throne-room. Like us, he judged inner character by outward appearance. The labels on our clothes, the labels on our cars -- these externals, and others like them, are the clues we take, or mistake, to indicate inner character.

Among the sons of Jesse, several of them looked like leadership material to Samuel. Huge hunks, prime beef, macho men who could have stepped into the WWF ring with Steve Austin any day of the week. They were manly, men's men. They killed wild animals, signed up for special ops for the national defense, picked bear meat out of their teeth with their knives and did not worry about being sensitive or nurturing. If they were here, they would sleep through Sleepless in Seattle or You’ve God Mail. They would never watch Oprah. 

There was only one sissy in the bunch, and he was singing songs, writing poetry, and playing with the lambs in the back forty. And just a kid. Case closed. Samuel moved in for the anointing. Yet, real strength and beauty lay somewhere else. The kid was strong in the eyes of God. This kid, this weakling, was the one God wanted. 

In one sense, this was so like God. Notice how Paul puts it in I Corinthians 1:27-28. But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, things that are not, to reduce to nothing things that are … 

God saw something here, in David, that others, even someone as spiritual as Samuel, did not see. We just do not see as God sees. We do not get it. Spiritual strength does not come in a tin can.

What can we learn from this story? We need to look for God at work in unlikely places. We can all develop an intentional process of suspending our appearance biases. Finally, God might be calling us to anoint someone in such a way that he or she can see the God-given potential he or she has.

We can also learn that God may have more interest in the heroes of daily life than in the heroes who make it to the big screen. They do not get to the front page of the paper.  They are the ones who get up every day and have a reason for living this day.  They are willing to sacrifice for family and friends.  They are willing to live by the values and principles in which they believe.  They do these boring things every day.  Yet, in the limited sphere of influence they have, they are the ones who make the world a happier and safer place in which to live.

In the aftermath of the September attacks, Americans were heartened to learn of the heroism of passengers on Flight 93. The United Airlines Boeing 757 took off from Newark, got over Cleveland and was turned around by the hijackers. Not long after, however, the plane crashed in a field near Shanksville, Pennsylvania. Several stories later emerged. Todd Beamer, for example, on learning through his cell phone about the cowardly attacks on the Twin Towers, together with fellow passengers stormed the terrorists in the pilot's cabin, all losing their lives in the process, while saving, only God knows, how many other lives. Mr. Beamer's last words, heard over his cell phone, apparently spoken to his fellow ordinary passengers, "Are you ready? Let's roll." Beamer was no Schwarzenegger or Harrison Ford. He was an ordinary person. Call what he and others did civic courage if you will. Nevertheless, he is the kind of person God looks for: available and imbued with inner strength.

How can we build character? I do not know if I will have the strength of character in a crisis to do the courageous thing. A profile in The New Yorker says that someone asked Ernest Hemingway, “Exactly what do you mean by ‘guts’?”  His response, famously, “I mean, grace under pressure.” Having the “guts,” or the courage is the most important of all the virtues, because without courage you cannot practice any other virtue consistently. You can practice any virtue erratically, but nothing consistently without courage.[5] Courage suggests facing fear, not the elimination of fear. Courage is willing to walk through the fear. Courage acts in spite of fear. Fear is morally neutral, showing up in response to real or imagined danger. In each situation that stimulates this response, we decide whether we are going to let the fear in and let it live in our hearts and control what we do. Courage in a situation is the refusal to allow fear such power.[6]

Wrapped in his furs and leathers, mounted on his great warhorse, [Bran’s] lord father loomed over him like a giant. “Robb says the man died bravely [reported Bran], but Jon said he was afraid.”

 

“What do you think?” his father asked.

 

Bran thought about it. “Can a man still be brave if he’s afraid?”

 

“That is the only time a man can be brave,” his father told him.[7]

 

I do know that the only way I will be ready is if I commit myself daily to being the courageous person that building character requires. Based upon a sermon by Harry Emerson Fosdick, I would offer a few questions I find myself asking when it comes to decisions regarding the shape my life takes.

First, does what I am about to do make common sense? In Proverbs 12:8 we read: One is commended for good sense, but a perverse mind is despised.

Second, is what I am about to do fair? One day, while David had to keep escaping from King Saul, David became angry with Nabal, because he did not share his harvest with his soldiers. He intended to do harm, but instead, Abigail, the wife of Nabal, persuaded him to change his mind. Part of her argument was that David was such a great man, while her husband was foolish. David praised her for her good sense and that she kept me today from bloodguilt and from avenging myself by my own hand.! For as surely as the Lord the God of Israel lives, who has restrained me from hurting you…. (I Samuel 25:33-34)

Knute Rockne had a code by which he lived that he discovered in a poem that he posted in the locker room at Notre Dame.

In the battle that goes on for life,

            I ask for a field that is fair.

A chance that is equal with all in strife.

            The courage to do and to dare.

 

If I should win, let it be by the code,

            My faith and my honor held high.

If I should lose, let me stand by the road,

            And cheer as the winner rides by.

 

            Third, is what I am about to do consistent with my best self?

Fourth, is what I am about to do something I would want the people who admire me or depend upon me know that I have done?

Fifth, is what I am about to do something that people whom I admire would be disappointed if they knew I did it?

Sixth, is what I am about to do something with which my future self will be happy?

With each of these questions, I wonder if David would have reacted to Bathsheba (II Samuel 11-12) differently had he asked himself these questions. 

The genius of Christianity is that God works through us. God works through people like David. At an early age, in comparison to others, he did not look the part of a king. He certainly did not look the part of a warrior when he confronted Goliath. He had some major flaws. Yet, God chose to make a covenant with him and with his family. However, part of the development of character from the inside out is to acknowledge when we have fallen short, when we have given in to our darker side, confess our sin, repent, and move on with our lives in the knowledge that God has not abandoned us. In fact, God chose to bring the promised Messiah, the Son of God, into the world through the family of this weak and flawed individual. God seems to work that way. God chose the family of a carpenter in Galilee. Jesus could have chosen 12 rabbis to do his work. Instead, he chose anglers, tax collectors and former zealots -- all people without formal training.

Here is the point. God sees who we can be; not just who we are. Frankly, we may look at our gifts and passions; we may look at our sinfulness and weakness and wonder how God can work with us. Please, remember the weak and flawed man, David, and remember that God worked with him. God will work in your life as well. God will build you into the person God wants you to be, from the inside out. 



[1] Under a theory I happen to like, prophetic legend and the development of what we might think of as saints occurs in the 750-721 BC period. The influence is from the same circle who put together the E Document in the Pentateuch. The story is more like a saga, even if some historical elements remain. Such stories attach to specific persons because of who they are, showing how unique and close to the Lord they were. 

[2] Jesse was of the house of Perez and grandson of Boaz and Ruth.

Ruth 4:17-22 (NRSV)

17 The women of the neighborhood gave him a name, saying, “A son has been born to Naomi.” They named him Obed; he became the father of Jesse, the father of David.

18 Now these are the descendants of Perez: Perez became the father of Hezron, 19 Hezron of Ram, Ram of Amminadab, 20 Amminadab of Nahshon, Nahshon of Salmon, 21 Salmon of Boaz, Boaz of Obed, 22 Obed of Jesse, and Jesse of David.

1 Chronicles 2:3-12 (NRSV)

The sons of Judah: Er, Onan, and Shelah; these three the Canaanite woman Bath-shua bore to him. Now Er, Judah’s firstborn, was wicked in the sight of the Lord, and he put him to death. His daughter-in-law Tamar also bore him Perez and Zerah. Judah had five sons in all.

The sons of Perez: Hezron and Hamul. The sons of Zerah: Zimri, Ethan, Heman, Calcol, and Dara, five in all. The sons of Carmi: Achar, the troubler of Israel, who transgressed in the matter of the devoted thing; and Ethan’s son was Azariah.

The sons of Hezron, who were born to him: Jerahmeel, Ram, and Chelubai. 10 Ram became the father of Amminadab, and Amminadab became the father of Nahshon, prince of the sons of Judah. 11 Nahshon became the father of Salma, Salma of Boaz, 12 Boaz of Obed, Obed of Jesse.

[3] (Pannenberg, Systematic Theology 1998, 1991)Volume 3, 443. 

[4] (Pannenberg, Systematic Theology 1998, 1991)Volume 3, 9.

[5] —Maya Angelou, quoted by Stedman Graham in Diversity: Leaders Not Labels (Free Press, 2006), 224.

[6] —Joanna Adams, “Faith and fear,” Journal for Preachers, Pentecost 1996, 28.

[7] —George R.R. Martin, A Game of Thrones (New York: Bantam Books, 1996), 16.

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