Where the Trees Stand Still

Peace. Calm. Stability. Safety. Assurance.

These are things my family desperately seeks right now. And this song speaks to this yearning upon every listen.

—
“Where the Trees Stand Still”
by Bebo Norman

Everyone it seems
Is looking for the grass that’s greener here
And through my window pane
The scenery flies by and disappears
So tell to me the secret
That won’t let the memories fade away
Until I am home again….where the trees stand still

Yesterday it seems
I traveled in a younger man’s clothes
Living out this dream
And wandering through fields of touch and go
Moving on forever
Watching the distance fade away
But now I just want to land…where the trees stand still

All this time
On this line
Here then I am gone

Tonight I want a life
Where the faces are the same most every day
Tonight I want a wife
To sit with me and watch our children play
All the world between us
Watching the years fade away
And when the laughing’s done…we’ll watch the trees stand still
Everyday…where the trees stand still
We will make a home…where the trees stand still

Cast Your Cares

One Scripture verse that I tend to associate with “big stuff” is 1 Peter 5:7, “Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.” I mean, that’s usually the way it’s presented. Especially in my years of being involved with student ministry, I’ve heard it a lot, and normally having to do with parents who fight, or divorce, or abuse, or death of a loved one…you know, “big stuff.”

Recently, in a talk with the student minister at my old church, that verse came up. And he made the point that we tend to cast them off and then reel them back in, like when fishing. I thought that was pretty clever, and it’s stuck with me. Yet, I went back and read the verse again, this time careful to understand the context. I had recently heard someone say that sometimes taking a verse in context will change what it’s really saying, or the depth of it, or whatever. My personal example would be in 2 Samuel 12:7 where it says, “Then Nathan said to David, ‘You are the man!'” It’s something I personally want to hear said about me. But, in that moment, it was the last thing David wanted to hear.

So, I went and reread chapter 5. And, I was amazed at what I found. When Peter said to cast all anxiety on Him, he was talking about something very small. He was talking to both elders and the young people of the church, encouraging them to be humble and gracious towards each other, invoking Proverbs 3:34 which says, “God opposes the proud.” So, as I understand it, Peter was basically telling them to stop fussing and bickering, instead acting in humility toward one another. Then, he says, “Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.” Peter was telling them, “If it gets too much, cast it aside and give it up to God and let Him deal with it.” Incredible.

So, I thought about how many times I had heard this verse in relation to “big stuff” and how it was really given as an instruction for dealing with the everyday silliness that goes on among people who might disagree or cause one another grief. (See also: Parish Council Meetings, Deacons’ Meetings, discussion among parents and their children, etc.) And, all of a sudden, that verse became even more of an encouragement to me. I mean, if I can trust that He’ll care about the little stuff, then I can definitely trust Him with the big stuff. As Christ Himself says in Luke’s gospel, “Whoever can be trusted with very little can also be trusted with much” (16:10). Not that I didn’t know this to begin with, as I certainly did. It’s just that, sometimes, it needs reinforcement.

You who are weary, striven, worn thin, or busily writing blogs—be of good courage. Cast all your cares…worries, anxieties, uncertainties, quarrels, fears, moments of little faith…upon Him.

Lean Not…

From my journal entry dated March 7, 2007:

After being prompted by something I saw in a friend’s Bible, I read Isaiah 40 this evening. I reread vv. 27-31 over and over again, narrowing my selection with each pass. I finally rested on the last bit of v. 28: “his (the Lord’s) understanding no one can fathom.”

As I stared at that verse, I came to realize this is a huge problem I have. Too many thoughts to write about them now. Yet, even as my own words spoken to someone else come back to haunt me, I need to be less focused on my desire to understand and more focused on the need to act in spite of the lack of understanding when it does not easily come. “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding” (Prov. 3:5). Perhaps my insistence on understanding what is going on is my effort to find something other than God to lean on?

This Little Light Of Mine…

This is in response to a blog posted on MySpace by one of my best friends. I was actually going to respond on his blog, but I decided to just paste it here. So bear in mind that this is a continuation of an ongoing conversation. For that reason, forgive me if anything is unclear.

I ask that you give it a good read before moving on.

Relevantism (Part 2)

Truly, we are aliens in this world. This place is not our ultimate home. Yet, still, here we are. I think that sometimes we lose sight of the fact that this world, in a way, is our home for now. Don’t get me wrong…we (Christians) live in the Kingdom of God. We live for the Kingdom of God. Our every step is to be taken being mindful that we are His body and that we each are to strive to be an image of Him. But, we are still physically in this world. We are surrounded by countless well-meaning and hurting and seeking people who are shut out by the modern “Christian” culture. [Which, as I think about it, isn’t always so Christian…I think of when our Lord said “whatever ye do to the least of these…” I don’t always see those who say they are Christians caring one whit about the least of these, from donations to major charities all the way down to saying a kind word to a person on the street. (Alas, I, too, am guilty of this.) Some only seem to care about doing things so that God will bless them. Ugh! But, I digress…]

So much to say…this cuts to the heart of things that have been going through my head lately. And, not just lately, but for years. But, I’ll try to keep it short.

You talk about loving those who don’t love in return. One of the things that struck me about the attitude of the Orthodox Christian Church very early on was a certain point in the Divine Liturgy (which is what the Sunday service is called). The priest came out and said a quick set of prayers (kind of like brother Toby will in the middle of the morning service, except these are the same every week). Among those prayers, he said the following (or, close to it…I can’t remember all of it right now, even though I hear it every Sunday…I think the first part might be missing):

“Those who love us, those who hate us,
those who’ve asked our prayers, unworthy though we may be,
those for whom we pray,
those for whom we forget to pray,
may the Lord God remember in His kingdom,
always, now and ever,
and unto ages of ages.”

Though it’s seldom heard in modern Christianity, this is to be our attitude. Christ calls us to forgive without any expectation of payment or recompense of any kind. (This would also include even the acknowledgement by the offending party that they’ve done wrong and asking us to forgive them.) Likewise, He calls us to love all in the same way, the just and the unjust, just as His Father causes the rain to fall on the just and the unjust, the sun to rise on the good and the wicked.

We are to be the light of the world just as He is. The light that shines on us and in us doesn’t glow from afar, ensconced in some pretty glass container that we can only walk up to and admire the beauty of. Rather, it is freely given and illumines all of creation. It touches us and warms us and, if we allow it to, it melts the ice that forms around our hearts when we become embittered or self-righteous.

We have to engage the culture around us, or Christianity will become more and more of, and only, a separate culture in the eyes of the world around us. The veil of the temple was torn in two when Christ commended His life into the hands of the Father, allowing access to God at any time by anyone (through Christ, of course). Yet, when some Christians give their lives to Christ, almost the opposite seems to happen. They shut everyone out except their church, taking their newly found life and keeping it all for themselves. If we do this as Christians, how then will we fulfill the commandment to go and make disciples of all nations (and cultures, and people groups, and cities, and ghettos, and cliques, and ages, and sexual orientations, and races, etc…)?

I just thought of something…

You remember the old VBS and day care days of singing “This Little Light of Mine” with a room full of people? I would say a lot of people have lost the point-of-view expressed in the song (which also is a teaching of Christ). And, what we’re seeing is a Christian counter-culture…if you will…that is trying to regain that mindset and live it out day-by-day and trust that, in the words of Jars of Clay lead singer Dan Haseltine, “God will call His own to Himself.” If they don’t live it…if we don’t live it…I would say we’re not really taking up our cross, which Christ said we must do to be His followers.

On the website for the organization To Write Love On Her Arms, you find this in the FAQ, and I think it’s a pretty good summation of all that we’re saying here:

Q. Is TWLOHA Christian?
A. We feel that the story (and the rest of this project) speaks for itself. Identifying something (such as a band, store, venue or project) as “Christian” often alienates those outside of the church/christian culture and we don’t want to do that. TWLOHA aims to be inclusive and inviting. This is a project for all people. This is a project for broken people, and it is led by broken people.

And Christianity is the same. As I’ve said before, we should not have to say all the time what we believe, or wear WWJD bracelets, or shout the name of Jesus everywhere we go, or write blogs about youth conferences. Jesus said that we will be known as His disciples only (as this was His only comment on the matter as far as I know) if we love one another as He has loved us. One another. Not just the good, the holy, the believer, the straight, the narrow-minded, the sane, the white, the normal-looking, the middle class, the choir member, the college single, the whatever. But, one another. The man standing next to you on the bus. The lady at the grocery store. The guy who cuts you off in traffic during Friday rush hour. Everyone.

This is a bold statement, but I feel the need to say it. I would say that not, at the very least, desiring to be formed into the image of the One who is Love that we might truly and wholly love one another in the way discussed above is an attitude that is entirely not Christian.

So, the movement toward being relevant is not so much just people wanting to blend in. But they see something wrong with the way things have been done before and they’re trying to remedy that. As my priest, Fr. Stephen Freeman, said recently, “We all need to pray and do the best we can to present God in truth and in love. The world is in crisis.”

Amen.

Let Your Love Be Strong

“There is no fear in love; but perfect love casts out fear, because fear involves torment. But he who fears has not been made perfect in love.” (1 John 4:18)

This verse kept going through my head as I travelled to and from West Virginia yesterday and last night. Along with it, thoughts of how not everything goes as planned, or as wanted, or as expected. This is nerve-shatteringly obvious sometimes.

Yet, my response should be shaped and encouraged by this verse. For, I know that God loves me perfectly and without condition or pretense or selfish desire. If this is so, and if He has this plan for my life (which I believe He does—see Jeremiah 29:11, for example), then whatever that plan might entail, I should not be afraid of the overall result. I know it will be for my good. Which is far different from saying that it will be good or easy; it might be very difficult and painful. But, I know that God is good and that He knows what He’s doing better than I even know what I’m doing (which I often don’t). So, I should trust without fear.

It’s hard, but it’s such a release when I can bring myself to die to my want to know how everything will turn out and to just remember that, as Father Arseny said, “God’s ways are inscrutable and His mercy is inexhaustible.” He has everything I need to make it through: the knowledge of where He wants me to go and the strength to help me get there, no matter what happens.

This song speaks to this point, and even beyond it. It’s among what I typically call “scary prayers.” That your world come apart if it needs to and that you will not have any of your strength to rely on when it happens is a pretty scary thing to ask. I mean…what if it really happened that way? What do you do then? The answer is far easier said than done. I know very well.

Yet, if I want God’s love to be realized more and more in my life, informing and guiding every step and thought and action and decision and so on, then these things that I build have to come crashing down. They’re nothing in the end but monuments to my pride and my righteous view of myself. They are distractions, they are idols, they are rubbish. Though I like them (else I wouldn’t have them) they have nothing for me.

Still, this is such a hard thing to chase after and desire. It brings to mind a very fearsome scenario.

But, may it be as it should.

—
“Let Your Love Be Strong”
words by Jonathan Foreman

In this world of news, I’ve found nothing new
I’ve found nothing pure
Maybe I’m just idealistic to assume that truth
Could be fact and form
That love could be a verb
Maybe I’m just a little misinformed

As the dead moon rises, and the freeways sigh
Let the trains watch over the tides and the mist
Spinning circles in our skies tonight
Let the trucks roll in from Los Angeles
Maybe our stars are unanimously tired

Let your love be strong, and I don’t care what goes down
Let your love be strong enough to weather through the thunder cloud
Fury and thunder clap like stealing the fire from your eyes
All of my world hanging on your love

Let the wars begin, let my strength wear thin
Let my fingers crack, let my world fall apart
Train the monkeys on my back to fight
Let it start tonight
When my world explodes, when my stars touch the ground
Falling down like broken satellites

Let your love be strong, and I don’t care what goes down
Let your love be strong enough to weather through the thunder cloud
Fury and thunder clap like stealing the fire from your eyes
All of my world hanging on…

All of my world resting on your love

You Can Go Your Own Way

One of my best friends is in need of advice.

But he doesn’t want it.

He and I attended a local concert last night where he asked me not to be so vocal about his relationship. Fair enough. I can sometimes be a little too helpful. But, when he gave his reasoning, it kind of unnerved me.

He’s been single for a while. This was a part of his justification. He also said that several people seem to have a negative view of his current relationship. So, he is asking that he be left alone to “see what God wants him to do.”

The Scriptures say time and again that the counsel of a friend is to be sought. In fact, I told him that plans fail without counsel (cf. Proverbs 15:22). He said that he’s seeking counsel, that they both are praying about it. I can think of no better counsel. But, I remember a similar situation I was in (here we go again with similar situations) 7 years ago where, upon reflection, I did the exact same thing, seeking no advice but being in constant prayer about it. And, this relationship he’s in bears some of the warning signs I should have heeded. I’ve cautioned him to be careful against going on emotions alone, that common sense will go a long way. He says he knows. But…I don’t know.

I was reminded of Job in my conversation with him. As I recall, Job’s friends volunteered their wisdom of why he was going through so much strife. Yet, what they said was more reflective of their own problems than of his. As the story goes, there was no more righteous man anywhere (Job 1:8). Yet, here were his “friends” accusing him of being unrighteous. At the beginning of chapter 13, he had suffered enough and exclaimed “If only you would be altogether silent! For you, that would be wisdom” (v. 5).

I get the feeling that my friend has this same attitude, except for different reasons. I feel he’s shutting out dissenting voices not because they give unsound advice, but because they are dissenting. He says that this is happening for a reason, even if that reason is that he learn something. It’s like he’s walking into a storm he doesn’t have to endure, heading for disaster that, if he would just stop and think, could be totally avoided. It’s very frustrating.

It reminds me of a story I once heard from the late great Southern humorist Lewis Grizzard:

“A few years ago when the Mississippi had overflowed its banks, there was an awful flood that came up in no time flat. Pretty soon, people were going through towns in rowboats trying to save as many people as they could. In one town, there was a preacher sitting on his porch when rescuers came by.

‘Preacher! Come with us! The water’s risin’ in a hurry and you need to get to safety!’

The preacher replied, ‘Thanks boys, but I don’t need no help. I got faith in the Lord. If I need any help, He’ll take care of me.’ So they went on.

A couple of hours later, more rescuers came by and found the preacher on his second floor. As before, they said, ‘Preacher!! Please, come with us! The waters risin’ in a hurry and there ain’t much time! Listen, now…you got to come with us!’

‘Boys, you don’t need to worry about me. If I need any help, the Lord’ll take care of me. Go on and help someone else.’ So they went on.

An hour later, the preacher was on top of the roof when some men came by in a helicopter. Throwing down a ladder they pleaded through a bullhorn, ‘Preacher, this is your last chance! Please, come with us! Take the ladder and you’ll be pulled to safety!’

‘I’ve told you, I don’t need no help. If I need any help, the Lord’ll take care of me. Go on, now…I’m fine.’

So about 30 minutes later, the preacher showed up at the Pearly Gates. St. Peter saw him walking up and said in disbelief, ‘What are you doin’ here?! It ain’t time for you! What happened?!’

The preacher said, ‘Well, I don’t know. There was a flood and some people came by offering help but I said that if I needed any help, the Lord would take care me of me…’

St. Peter said, ‘Well, we sent two rowboats and a helicopter! What’d you want?'”

New Day

A mere 10+ hours after posting my last blog on how defeated I felt because of the recent arguing between my mom and me, I loaded up her new silver 2GB iPod with some of her favorite music. When I gave it to her, much crazy dancing and singing ensued. It was gloriously ridiculous. lol 🙂

Just a reminder to people…life itself isn’t bleak. It’s the moments that weigh us down and cause us pain and distress that are bleak. Look for the joy in small things. Listen to the rain falling or cuddle up next to the family pet. Call a friend who really loves you and will listen.

Here’s an idea. Get to a quiet place and just pray over and over again, “Lord have mercy.” Make it your prayer with all that you have. Focus on the goodness and love of God. I once heard that we pray not to change God, but to change us. By praying “Lord have mercy” continuously, I, for one, begin to remember that He is merciful and loving and not willing that I live a life consumed with pain and darkness. Sure, these things will be there. But, they don’t have to consume me.

The Scriptures say that God’s mercy is new every day. That’s the moment I was living for when I went to sleep after my last post. I wanted a new day. I wanted new mercy. I wanted redemption.

And I got it, partially through an act of helpfulness on my part by doing for my mom what she couldn’t do for herself at that moment in filling her iPod. And this brought her such happiness that it moved her to dancing. How cool is that?

So, now the picture is complete. This post and the last were written not just to get things off my chest. I also wrote them because I know many people are going through the same problems with their parents. As I said, it’s part of growing up. Or maybe you’re going through something else that absolutely crushes you underneath the weight of whatever problems it brings about. Maybe you’re at a loss for words and are just sitting quietly waiting for the pain to pass you by for a moment before it comes back to haunt you again. Maybe you’re sobbing your eyes out. Maybe you’re screaming in anger. Maybe it’s worse….maybe you’re getting high, or cutting, or looking for toxic pills in your house. Whatever it is, it doesn’t have to be that way.

There is a love that is unbroken, flawless, beautiful and healing. It seeks nothing but your wholeness and completion and salvation—salvation from pain, regret, anger, bitterness, failure, salvation from yourself, and even salvation from death. Maybe you know this love I speak so much of. Maybe you don’t. Either way, if you’re hurting or scared or just at the end of your rope, cry out with all that you are and this love—the very God and Creator of the universe who came to this world in human flesh to die and rise again so that you might never taste of death—will save you.

It is only through Christ that we find redemption. But, through Him, all things are redeemed. All of us and this broken world, all of fallen creation. Anything can be made right by his grace, and anything can be restored to goodness. Even moments filled with argument and unkind words between people.

God bless all of you and and may He be your strength. May you only seek Him as your refuge in times of trouble. May you find shelter under the shadow of His wings. May He be glorified in everything you do, even in the midst of your struggles and failures. May He have mercy on us and save us all. Amen.

OCF College Conference 2006

Last week, I went to the annual College Conference conducted by Orthodox Christian Fellowships. In the wee hours of the morning of the final day, I was hanging out in my room doing stuff on my computer with photos I had taken at the conference the night before. Then, I suddenly had the urge to write. And this is what came out:

—

December 31, 2006–3:37 am

I’m sitting in room 212 in the Conference Center at Antiochian Village in western Pennsylvania. “Run” by Snow Patrol is blaring from the speakers on my laptop. It’s cold outside, though I’m not sure how cold. When I went out to run an errand earlier, the “smell” of snow filled my nostrils. It probably won’t snow, though; it’s probably just the combination of crisply cold air and increased humidity.

Keith, my roommate, has stepped out into the hallway to hunt down a beverage of some sort to quench his late-night thirst. We will likely go to sleep somewhat early tonight, probably around 4:15-ish. Every other night we’ve been here, we’ve stayed up until roughly 5:00 and talked, either with each other or some of the other 250+ students here at the 2006 College Conference put on by Orthodox Christian Fellowships, a campus ministry of the Christian Orthodox Church. A little extra sleep would be nice, as I would like to be able to get out of bed early enough to attend Liturgy in the morning at 8 o’ clock. It will be the last service I will get to attend with most of these students until this time next year. I look forward to once again standing along side my brothers and sisters in the Faith and lifting our voices as we sing hymns to our One True God and Savior Jesus Christ.

Today is the last day of the conference. In a few hours, we will pack up and go home. But, before leaving, we must face parting. I can’t imagine how difficult this will be. In only 4 days or so, I’ve developed a number of friendships that will likely last a good while, probably years. I already have standing invitations from two people to come crash at their place if I ever want to visit their church. One of these people, Keith, said that I don’t even have to be visiting his church, that I could just come whenever. I might take him up on that sometime.

Over the past days, I’ve been blessed to personally spend time with wonderful and incredible people who have great promise ahead of them. Michael is studying comparative theology between the historic traditions of the Orthodox and Protestant churches, a major he customized himself. Wajdi is a biomedical student with a great mind (even if he did say something about “James” Coltrane). Zeina is currently undecided all around, but she has a talent and passion for art. Keith is working on his second and third Bachelor’s degrees and wants to go on and pursue a career in graphic design of some type. Abbi wants to be a school teacher, or maybe a missionary. Leah wants to join the Peace Corps for a couple of years and be involved with environmental issues. Mary Evelyn is seeking a Master’s so that she can be a school librarian. And the list goes on.

There is so much more that I can say about this conference and what it has meant to me, and what it will mean to me. I’m very much not the same person who arrived. My heart has been changed, my thoughts have changed. I have been changed more deeply than I can even understand right now.

As one body of students and as members of the body of Christ, we came together this week, sharing the same confession of faith and the same desire to study the topic of the conference, which was “Be still and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10). Along the way, I made some friendships that will not easily fade away. As a matter of fact, I am wearing four colored bracelets on my right wrist to remind me of just a few of the connections I’ve made this week: a black one from Nick, a plaid one from Ben, a yellow one from Rachel, and a red one from my entire small group. All of these people wear respectively identical bracelets on their wrists as well. They will serve as reminders to us that we are connected by faith, our experiences here at the College Conference, and our friendship and love for one another.

And all of this–this friendship, this shared faith, this entire experience–is what makes it so hard to leave. I certainly look forward to spending New Year’s at home. But, I wish I could spend it here, in this holy place located in the Pennsylvania wilderness, learning about God and sharing life with the people around me. Maybe we would have the occasional (read: at least once a night) break out of Greek and Arabic dance. I would likely make even more friends. (I know that the food would be excellent, and how often can you say that about a conference center?)

One thing that would fill this place, as it does now, is Love. The love of God for us all. Our love for God, for His holy Church, for those in need, and for each other. I’ve never been on a retreat where I felt so much love, where I could meet someone and chat with them for 45 minutes and be warmly hugged as we go our separate ways for the evening. Keith says that there’s just something about this place. He’s right.

So, I’m off to bed now. It is, of course, 5:03 (I figured you were wondering). (In the middle of writing this, Keith returned and we chatted a little about tomorrow, about my visiting his church, about how he originally thought I was of Russian descent, etc.) From after Liturgy up to the time I leave, I will be saying goodbye quite a bit. I will hug people and possibly shed tears. It’s so difficult to explain….I will only say that it is a gift of God to have been here and to have worshipped and eaten and laughed and danced and lived with these other students.

Yes, I’ll be sad. But, I’m actually somewhat comforted by this, because the sadness only points to the fact that I did have such an amazing experience here this week and that I would rather it not end.

I dare say I’m not alone.

A Thought On the Eve of the Nativity

This is one of the hymns I sang today in church:

The Virgin lays Thee
in the manger of dumb beasts,
O Word of God without beginning,
Who in a manner beyond understanding
chooses to begin in the flesh.

Thou art come to loose me
from the fetters of evil
with which the envious serpent bound me;
Thou, O lover of man,
art wrapped in swaddling clothes,
tearing to pieces the bonds of my countless sins.

Therefore, I joyfully praise and worship
Thy holy birth,
for Thou didst come to set me free.

I love the imagery in the wording of this hymn. It’s so striking, the thought of the Word of God made flesh lying in a place used by animals that can’t speak.
Also, the picture of the Babe bound in swaddling clothes, yet He’s the One that came to unbind me from death and sin.

But, more than the imagery, I love the Truth of it, that Christ didn’t come into the world to make bad people good, but to make dead people live.

May we strive each day to diligently seek Him as our only Life and Hope. For, if we do this, we shall surely find Him. (Prov. 8:17)

Merry Christmas to all of you. May God bless, protect, and keep you this season as you travel and spend time with family.

Christ is born! Glorify Him!

Love Is the Movement, part II: Transparency

Earlier this evening, while I was eating dinner, my mom asked me if I was going to pick up my brother tomorrow afternoon to bring him to a family gathering. I sighed a sorry “Yeah.”

“Well, you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” she said, picking up on my obvious begrudgement.

“Aw, mom, you know how I am with him sometimes.”

I’ll admit. Sometimes, I don’t like being around my brother, or even talking to him extensively. Don’t get me wrong; I love him and would be in agony if anything were to ever happen to him. But, sometimes, he does much to make bearing him difficult. Sometimes his behavior is devisive and can take a sociopathic bent. He’s not a sociopath by any means. But, the tendency lies there underneath a vicious drug habit from which he is currently recovering. It’s usually only when things happen that appear to be the outworking of his illness that his company or conversation irritates me. Yet, that’s not really an excuse, as my mom quickly reminded me.

“Well, what did your blog say yesterday?” she pointedly asked.

I think I shrank to the size of a Hummel figurine. At least, that’s how small I felt. Yet, I’m one to try to make light of many things, including rightful indictment.

“How dare you convict me using my own words. That’s against the rules!” I said, with a semi-genuine laugh.

Then, as she retreated to her room for the night, I asked God to forgive me and to help me love my brother as much outwardly as much as I do inwardly.

Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me, a sinner.