On the one hand, we can probably all agree that the law of worship both influences and reflects the faith of any church. Thus the focus on worship makes sense.
On the other, and at the same time, I'd say it's a false dichotomy to stress correct worship as opposed to correct doctrinal belief.
I'd put it this way: If worship in many of our churches has become narcissistic pabulum, that's in large part because the people attending those churches don't know what they believe. They don't know what they believe because for decades their bishops and priests haven't stressed the harder truths of the faith, and the faithful aren't catechized. Both the homily and the focus of worship thus very easily become the default American sacred, which is ... "I'm okay, you're okay."
So if there's a crisis in our worship, it's partly based on a crisis in doctrine. The faithful hardly know Christianity, and some of the clergy themselves don't actually believe. The important thing is to "reach out," be "a listening church," blah blah blah.
The physical structure of the church may still reflect the sacramental reality, but the gestures and words of the priest keep putting the focus not on Him, but on the community. They are all so precious and "welcome"--it's just so wonderful they could appear to revel in their wonderfulness.
This is the problem in my Catholic Church, but these comments surely apply to many Protestant churches too. There's a vicious cycle of flimsy doctrine and flimsy worship. Eventually one ends with a secularist, sometimes literally syncretic "We're all just here blah blahing, and aren't we all wonderful together, everyone different and special in their unique special ways, all showing our togetherness around Jesus, who was all about togetherness you know."
And that last sentence isn't just the homily (though I've heard plenty of homilies like that) but characterizes the comportment of the whole parish, both priest and faithful. It's of course especially telling if this self-congratulatory worship ends by characterizing Lent as well. Which will doubtless happen.
My argument is that this if this has become our worship, it's because this is what we believe *as doctrine*.
"For example, Islam might be true, but I have never sat down and examined the case for Islam carefully, weighing the arguments and so forth, because to do so would require an immense effort to overcome my own biases as someone raised in a Christian culture. Similarly, someone my age who was raised in Riyadh would have to make titanic efforts to consider fairly whether or not Christianity is true. Or Buddhism. Or … anything but Islam. You see what I’m getting at?
If I lived in Riyadh, chances are I would find myself delving into Islamic teaching at some point, simply because I wanted to better understand the culture in which I lived. I would not be surprised if Muslims living in the West had been moved at some point to take Christianity more seriously than they otherwise might have done, only because it was more normative in the society in which they live, and therefore more plausible."
Rod, you should get a copy of Seeking Allah, Finding Jesus. This book is a testimony to how real love can help someone far from truth find it. The author whose name my 5am brain cannot recall is with the Lord now but kind of makes your second point above but it is much more.
Secondly, your statement that Islam might be true but you never took time to take a hard look surprises me some. I was blessed to have been brought to TRUTH in my upbringing and by that every false truth claim (i.e. Islam, Hindu, you fill in the blank) rings as false with even a cursory look. I hope that does not sound prideful, but having the indwelling Holy Spirit (un-grieved, and un-quenched) helps us as Christ followers to be able to identify false truth claims. I understand you were setting up a point but if one does believe that Islam might be true, does it not behoove him or her to make every effort to find out given the eternal stakes?
One partial answer to the Twitter guy asking "What does this have to do with whether Catholicism is true" is that it aggravates other doubts that people may have.
I'm an orthodox, conservative-leaning Catholic, but I'll acknowledge that there are some difficulties with the Church's claims. In a short time, the Church went from calling religious freedom "an insanity" to a universal right. For the past 60+ years, apologists have been attempting to explain how that doesn't screw up the Church's claim to indefectibility, or why it doesn't leave the door open for a "development" on contraception, gay marriage, etc. So far, no one has come up with a satisfactory answer. Similar things can be said for the Church's developments on the death penalty, the ecclesiology of Lumen Gentium, etc.
For people who struggle with these issues, or have other issues with Church teaching, I think it would be easier to hold onto the faith if you saw profundity and transcendence every Sunday. When I get really frustrated with the rational/intellectual side of Catholicism, I think of Fatima. Or Lourdes. Or the incorruptible bodies of saints. The miraculous and sacred ease my doubts. That's a choice I make, which not everyone is willing to do. If the sacred was put in their faces every Sunday, they wouldn't have to.
“Jesus said to him (Thomas), ‘I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.’” (John 14:6) All truth begins with Jesus the Christ.
These are good thoughts, Rod. I’m Catholic but troubled about the faith in ways similar to what you went through.
The fullness and magnificence of the Catholic intellectual and artistic tradition, combined with my becoming a father, is what made a convert of me in the 2010s. But no sooner had I done that than the summer of 2018 rolled around. By then I was the father of two young boys. I have been something of a failed convert ever since then because I find that I simply cannot bring myself to trust the Church—including lay people—with my sons. Catholicism for me has become something which I can enjoy aesthetically and intellectually, something that is great for the thinkers and artists I admire to have in their lives (like the recent Nobel Laureate in literature), but to which I can’t conform my own and my family’s life for lack of trust. I know plenty of Catholics who seem good and seem like they take the faith seriously, but as we know traditionalism is no kind of assurance.
I’ve come to feel that there is something uniquely disturbing about the sexual abuse in the Catholic Church. It’s worse than complacent, comfortable mediocrity and unbelief, though as you point out it’s to a large extent enabled by that. Why is the abuse so revolting to me? I don’t have a full answer. It’s at least partly because it’s a particularly graphic betrayal of trust, involving as it almost always does children and adolescents. It is a kind of treason, and I suppose I think Dante was right to put the traitors at the bottom of Hell. But there is something more to this form of scandal. I think it has to do with hypocrisy. The abuse is overwhelmingly homosexual, and as such seems to contradict the fundamental understanding of human sex that, though not dogmatically formulated, is at the core of Christian (and Jewish) religion. You’ve written about this, of course. Christianity that forsakes the cosmic biblical understanding of sex saws the branch on which it rests. This is why the RCC’s recent drift toward explicit heresy on such matters seems of a piece with the long running abuse crisis.
This is all a way of agreeing with the assessment that the root problem is lack of belief especially in the institutional hierarchy. Of course not all clergy are rotten. The question is, what is the critical mass which renders the entire institution untrustworthy? Because in a world where there are other compelling options, I can’t justify voluntarily associating myself—and my sons—with an untrustworthy institution.
My worrying along these lines does not strike me as superfluous, though I wish more than anything I could get over it. But so many Catholics I know—serious, mostly traditional types like me, who also have young kids—don’t seem to ever have been troubled in a similar way or degree. Maybe it has something to do with being a cradle Catholic versus a convert who can more easily imagine being a different sort of Christian.
Sometimes people tell me or those like me to spend less time online following the scandals. Focus on the local. Find a good parish. This is sensible in one way, but it’s also negligent or naive. The whole issue is trust, which plays out first of all locally. It’s hard for me to see the antidote to this poison of suspicion that seems to have clouded my view of the Church. And I can’t escape the knowledge that I would feel differently if I were not a father (of boys, what’s more). I would be far less troubled in that case. And what does that say about my convictions? I don’t know, other than that you are right: personal circumstance matters. Religion is existential even more than doctrinal.
No, what our host presents at the beginning of his post is not Catholic but pagan. So many Catholic archbishops, bishops and priests have lost their faith. They no longer truly believe. Father Malachi Martin explained this in taped interviews over three decades ago. The Catholic truth is in the Latin Mass.
I began attending a Novus Ordo Catholic Mass in 1994. It took me a few years to understand how the Catholic Church was being destroyed from within. Homosexuality is the lynchpin of why the Catholic Church is in rapid decline. Homosexuality corrodes everything it touches. Homosexuality is immoral and anti-Catholic. Yet I feel sure that about half the bishops of Europe, Canada and America are homosexual and there is a huge lavender lobby inside the Catholic Church that controls every lever of power. About half of the older priests are homosexual. Pope John Paul II and Pope Benedict XVI knew this but felt constrained from sorting out the sewage within the Church.
So why did I stay in the Roman Catholic Church? Because it links me to Jesus Christ, the Second Person of the Holy Trinity. It links me historically to the beginnings of Christianity. It helped me that my wife converted in 2000 and we learned our faith together. And in 2002 we moved over to the Latin Mass and haven't looked back since.
One thing about the Substack is not having a day or so to think through a response. I always post my first thoughts about things. This one seems complex, but I will still post. Two issues: Faith and "sacredness"
First issue, help me out here - I am not positive that this shows disbelief in Catholic teaching. It was before the ceremony. Is there a special connection of this community with Native Americans? Are they near where many live, are many Native American youth being confirmed that day?
I like Fr. Calvin Robinson, who posted this, from what I've seen of him on TV.
Second issue, about the altar - yes that is sacred. In the video I am seeing just the table itself, not the reserved Host, thanks to God. But it brings up the question - what can and cannot be appropriate around the altar when a service is not in progress. Great respect is called for, obviously. But I just don't know. Are not various things done near the altar? For instance, - and this is not an exact parallel - travelled with a Protestant group to actual native people (in a jungle) and they did a traditional dance, though it was in the church hall, not in church. So yes, setting matters and I respect the sacred. I question whether it is automatically not sacred to sing and dance from a Native American culture, providing nothing is said or done contradiction Catholic teaching? And the dance/song not "non-sacred" (e.g. heretical, etc.) is it too secular to have around the altar,
As for the main points here - that the church hurts people greatly when it does not live the faith and show forth the faith - totally agree.
As I've mentioned a few times, I am a newcomer to the Catholic faith. I joined our local parish six years ago. The music is mediocre at best (piano, bassoon, electric violin and four voices) and the church itself was built in 1971 and has the feel of a gymnasium. The parishioners drag themselves into the church in their Crocs and sweats and Eagles jerseys (as my friend, John Lukacs, wrote; he too criticized some of the parishioners in his church to which his wife responded, "At least they are there"). Being a newcomer, I'm not sure how to categorize the church, but I have a feeling that it's mainstream Catholic. Upon the suggestion of an acquaintance, I was referred to a FSSP church that performs the Latin Mass. The music is heavenly with about a dozen men and a dozen women singing hymns in Latin accompanied by an organ. The altar is beautiful and the building itself is late nineteenth century Romanesque. The parishioners dress up and there is a dress code printed in the church flier. The service makes for a transcendent experience that for me, brings me closer to Jesus Christ. Those four women holding feathers and dressed in Indian garb is a joke compared to the complexities of the music of Bach and the symbolism and symmetry in the altar and the architecture and design of the church structure itself harmonious-- all composed, designed and built to praise God. These things that humans have created are God's gifts to us that have been passed down for centuries, and we should be humbled and grateful for them. I have thought of this example: Professional sports draw such viewership because people are attracted to watching the best of the best in terms of human performance. For me, the same holds true for the mass. If rules are loosely enforced or watered down and expectations are low, then slovenliness is what you get. Keep expectations high and a more meaningful experience is what you get.
For me the Parable of the Good Samaritan tells the core of Christian faith as completely as any other scripture, perhaps the most. That one who tried to justify himself before God Among Us by quizzing Him (admittedly one of my go-to tricks during prayer), ended up answering Jesus correctly and receiving a personal command from Him, inspires me. And though I'm no Bible scholar I've felt that Christ was both the victim and the Samaritan in this parable. We are called to love Him who suffered for us, and to suffer for Him who loves us. Any sacred space which tries to direct the focus of worship away from this centrality needs revising.
I will say for now that I really liked this piece, and it makes a good lenten meditation (as opposed to the travails of Donald Trump). This is the "old Rod" writing.
I think there is a time and place for a church to celebrate certain ethnic aspects of their congregation, but the liturgical service is absolutely not that time. My former Orthodox parish in Wisconsin had a Russian dance troupe that performed at various community events and church festivities, but certainly not in the church itself and not part of the divine service. When I was a Lutheran growing up we had a brass band at the church. It would perform classical-style hymns on major Sundays but would play German polkas at the town’s annual Oktoberfest. There is time these cultural accoutrements, but I’m shocked/not shocked a priest or bishop would allow this in the church.
Any time a conversation about Catholicism comes up, I refer to myself -- only half tongue in cheek -- as a "recovering Catholic." As someone who is old enough to remember the esthetic glory of the Latin mass, I find the service you describe appalling. Makes me wonder if such syncretism is a common symptom of every culture in terminal decline. Except that in our current wave of syncretism, there's the added factor of virtue-signaling. Or as I might call in if I were in one of my more crotchety moods, pandering. They must honestly believe that things like this makes them more "relevant," and thus somehow more appealing.
On the one hand, we can probably all agree that the law of worship both influences and reflects the faith of any church. Thus the focus on worship makes sense.
On the other, and at the same time, I'd say it's a false dichotomy to stress correct worship as opposed to correct doctrinal belief.
I'd put it this way: If worship in many of our churches has become narcissistic pabulum, that's in large part because the people attending those churches don't know what they believe. They don't know what they believe because for decades their bishops and priests haven't stressed the harder truths of the faith, and the faithful aren't catechized. Both the homily and the focus of worship thus very easily become the default American sacred, which is ... "I'm okay, you're okay."
So if there's a crisis in our worship, it's partly based on a crisis in doctrine. The faithful hardly know Christianity, and some of the clergy themselves don't actually believe. The important thing is to "reach out," be "a listening church," blah blah blah.
The physical structure of the church may still reflect the sacramental reality, but the gestures and words of the priest keep putting the focus not on Him, but on the community. They are all so precious and "welcome"--it's just so wonderful they could appear to revel in their wonderfulness.
This is the problem in my Catholic Church, but these comments surely apply to many Protestant churches too. There's a vicious cycle of flimsy doctrine and flimsy worship. Eventually one ends with a secularist, sometimes literally syncretic "We're all just here blah blahing, and aren't we all wonderful together, everyone different and special in their unique special ways, all showing our togetherness around Jesus, who was all about togetherness you know."
And that last sentence isn't just the homily (though I've heard plenty of homilies like that) but characterizes the comportment of the whole parish, both priest and faithful. It's of course especially telling if this self-congratulatory worship ends by characterizing Lent as well. Which will doubtless happen.
My argument is that this if this has become our worship, it's because this is what we believe *as doctrine*.
These are really tough questions. How do you handle sacrilege and evil inside your own church? No one size fits all answer here.
"For example, Islam might be true, but I have never sat down and examined the case for Islam carefully, weighing the arguments and so forth, because to do so would require an immense effort to overcome my own biases as someone raised in a Christian culture. Similarly, someone my age who was raised in Riyadh would have to make titanic efforts to consider fairly whether or not Christianity is true. Or Buddhism. Or … anything but Islam. You see what I’m getting at?
If I lived in Riyadh, chances are I would find myself delving into Islamic teaching at some point, simply because I wanted to better understand the culture in which I lived. I would not be surprised if Muslims living in the West had been moved at some point to take Christianity more seriously than they otherwise might have done, only because it was more normative in the society in which they live, and therefore more plausible."
Rod, you should get a copy of Seeking Allah, Finding Jesus. This book is a testimony to how real love can help someone far from truth find it. The author whose name my 5am brain cannot recall is with the Lord now but kind of makes your second point above but it is much more.
Secondly, your statement that Islam might be true but you never took time to take a hard look surprises me some. I was blessed to have been brought to TRUTH in my upbringing and by that every false truth claim (i.e. Islam, Hindu, you fill in the blank) rings as false with even a cursory look. I hope that does not sound prideful, but having the indwelling Holy Spirit (un-grieved, and un-quenched) helps us as Christ followers to be able to identify false truth claims. I understand you were setting up a point but if one does believe that Islam might be true, does it not behoove him or her to make every effort to find out given the eternal stakes?
One partial answer to the Twitter guy asking "What does this have to do with whether Catholicism is true" is that it aggravates other doubts that people may have.
I'm an orthodox, conservative-leaning Catholic, but I'll acknowledge that there are some difficulties with the Church's claims. In a short time, the Church went from calling religious freedom "an insanity" to a universal right. For the past 60+ years, apologists have been attempting to explain how that doesn't screw up the Church's claim to indefectibility, or why it doesn't leave the door open for a "development" on contraception, gay marriage, etc. So far, no one has come up with a satisfactory answer. Similar things can be said for the Church's developments on the death penalty, the ecclesiology of Lumen Gentium, etc.
For people who struggle with these issues, or have other issues with Church teaching, I think it would be easier to hold onto the faith if you saw profundity and transcendence every Sunday. When I get really frustrated with the rational/intellectual side of Catholicism, I think of Fatima. Or Lourdes. Or the incorruptible bodies of saints. The miraculous and sacred ease my doubts. That's a choice I make, which not everyone is willing to do. If the sacred was put in their faces every Sunday, they wouldn't have to.
“Jesus said to him (Thomas), ‘I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.’” (John 14:6) All truth begins with Jesus the Christ.
These are good thoughts, Rod. I’m Catholic but troubled about the faith in ways similar to what you went through.
The fullness and magnificence of the Catholic intellectual and artistic tradition, combined with my becoming a father, is what made a convert of me in the 2010s. But no sooner had I done that than the summer of 2018 rolled around. By then I was the father of two young boys. I have been something of a failed convert ever since then because I find that I simply cannot bring myself to trust the Church—including lay people—with my sons. Catholicism for me has become something which I can enjoy aesthetically and intellectually, something that is great for the thinkers and artists I admire to have in their lives (like the recent Nobel Laureate in literature), but to which I can’t conform my own and my family’s life for lack of trust. I know plenty of Catholics who seem good and seem like they take the faith seriously, but as we know traditionalism is no kind of assurance.
I’ve come to feel that there is something uniquely disturbing about the sexual abuse in the Catholic Church. It’s worse than complacent, comfortable mediocrity and unbelief, though as you point out it’s to a large extent enabled by that. Why is the abuse so revolting to me? I don’t have a full answer. It’s at least partly because it’s a particularly graphic betrayal of trust, involving as it almost always does children and adolescents. It is a kind of treason, and I suppose I think Dante was right to put the traitors at the bottom of Hell. But there is something more to this form of scandal. I think it has to do with hypocrisy. The abuse is overwhelmingly homosexual, and as such seems to contradict the fundamental understanding of human sex that, though not dogmatically formulated, is at the core of Christian (and Jewish) religion. You’ve written about this, of course. Christianity that forsakes the cosmic biblical understanding of sex saws the branch on which it rests. This is why the RCC’s recent drift toward explicit heresy on such matters seems of a piece with the long running abuse crisis.
This is all a way of agreeing with the assessment that the root problem is lack of belief especially in the institutional hierarchy. Of course not all clergy are rotten. The question is, what is the critical mass which renders the entire institution untrustworthy? Because in a world where there are other compelling options, I can’t justify voluntarily associating myself—and my sons—with an untrustworthy institution.
My worrying along these lines does not strike me as superfluous, though I wish more than anything I could get over it. But so many Catholics I know—serious, mostly traditional types like me, who also have young kids—don’t seem to ever have been troubled in a similar way or degree. Maybe it has something to do with being a cradle Catholic versus a convert who can more easily imagine being a different sort of Christian.
Sometimes people tell me or those like me to spend less time online following the scandals. Focus on the local. Find a good parish. This is sensible in one way, but it’s also negligent or naive. The whole issue is trust, which plays out first of all locally. It’s hard for me to see the antidote to this poison of suspicion that seems to have clouded my view of the Church. And I can’t escape the knowledge that I would feel differently if I were not a father (of boys, what’s more). I would be far less troubled in that case. And what does that say about my convictions? I don’t know, other than that you are right: personal circumstance matters. Religion is existential even more than doctrinal.
No, what our host presents at the beginning of his post is not Catholic but pagan. So many Catholic archbishops, bishops and priests have lost their faith. They no longer truly believe. Father Malachi Martin explained this in taped interviews over three decades ago. The Catholic truth is in the Latin Mass.
I began attending a Novus Ordo Catholic Mass in 1994. It took me a few years to understand how the Catholic Church was being destroyed from within. Homosexuality is the lynchpin of why the Catholic Church is in rapid decline. Homosexuality corrodes everything it touches. Homosexuality is immoral and anti-Catholic. Yet I feel sure that about half the bishops of Europe, Canada and America are homosexual and there is a huge lavender lobby inside the Catholic Church that controls every lever of power. About half of the older priests are homosexual. Pope John Paul II and Pope Benedict XVI knew this but felt constrained from sorting out the sewage within the Church.
So why did I stay in the Roman Catholic Church? Because it links me to Jesus Christ, the Second Person of the Holy Trinity. It links me historically to the beginnings of Christianity. It helped me that my wife converted in 2000 and we learned our faith together. And in 2002 we moved over to the Latin Mass and haven't looked back since.
One thing about the Substack is not having a day or so to think through a response. I always post my first thoughts about things. This one seems complex, but I will still post. Two issues: Faith and "sacredness"
First issue, help me out here - I am not positive that this shows disbelief in Catholic teaching. It was before the ceremony. Is there a special connection of this community with Native Americans? Are they near where many live, are many Native American youth being confirmed that day?
I like Fr. Calvin Robinson, who posted this, from what I've seen of him on TV.
Second issue, about the altar - yes that is sacred. In the video I am seeing just the table itself, not the reserved Host, thanks to God. But it brings up the question - what can and cannot be appropriate around the altar when a service is not in progress. Great respect is called for, obviously. But I just don't know. Are not various things done near the altar? For instance, - and this is not an exact parallel - travelled with a Protestant group to actual native people (in a jungle) and they did a traditional dance, though it was in the church hall, not in church. So yes, setting matters and I respect the sacred. I question whether it is automatically not sacred to sing and dance from a Native American culture, providing nothing is said or done contradiction Catholic teaching? And the dance/song not "non-sacred" (e.g. heretical, etc.) is it too secular to have around the altar,
As for the main points here - that the church hurts people greatly when it does not live the faith and show forth the faith - totally agree.
As I've mentioned a few times, I am a newcomer to the Catholic faith. I joined our local parish six years ago. The music is mediocre at best (piano, bassoon, electric violin and four voices) and the church itself was built in 1971 and has the feel of a gymnasium. The parishioners drag themselves into the church in their Crocs and sweats and Eagles jerseys (as my friend, John Lukacs, wrote; he too criticized some of the parishioners in his church to which his wife responded, "At least they are there"). Being a newcomer, I'm not sure how to categorize the church, but I have a feeling that it's mainstream Catholic. Upon the suggestion of an acquaintance, I was referred to a FSSP church that performs the Latin Mass. The music is heavenly with about a dozen men and a dozen women singing hymns in Latin accompanied by an organ. The altar is beautiful and the building itself is late nineteenth century Romanesque. The parishioners dress up and there is a dress code printed in the church flier. The service makes for a transcendent experience that for me, brings me closer to Jesus Christ. Those four women holding feathers and dressed in Indian garb is a joke compared to the complexities of the music of Bach and the symbolism and symmetry in the altar and the architecture and design of the church structure itself harmonious-- all composed, designed and built to praise God. These things that humans have created are God's gifts to us that have been passed down for centuries, and we should be humbled and grateful for them. I have thought of this example: Professional sports draw such viewership because people are attracted to watching the best of the best in terms of human performance. For me, the same holds true for the mass. If rules are loosely enforced or watered down and expectations are low, then slovenliness is what you get. Keep expectations high and a more meaningful experience is what you get.
For me the Parable of the Good Samaritan tells the core of Christian faith as completely as any other scripture, perhaps the most. That one who tried to justify himself before God Among Us by quizzing Him (admittedly one of my go-to tricks during prayer), ended up answering Jesus correctly and receiving a personal command from Him, inspires me. And though I'm no Bible scholar I've felt that Christ was both the victim and the Samaritan in this parable. We are called to love Him who suffered for us, and to suffer for Him who loves us. Any sacred space which tries to direct the focus of worship away from this centrality needs revising.
I will say for now that I really liked this piece, and it makes a good lenten meditation (as opposed to the travails of Donald Trump). This is the "old Rod" writing.
I think there is a time and place for a church to celebrate certain ethnic aspects of their congregation, but the liturgical service is absolutely not that time. My former Orthodox parish in Wisconsin had a Russian dance troupe that performed at various community events and church festivities, but certainly not in the church itself and not part of the divine service. When I was a Lutheran growing up we had a brass band at the church. It would perform classical-style hymns on major Sundays but would play German polkas at the town’s annual Oktoberfest. There is time these cultural accoutrements, but I’m shocked/not shocked a priest or bishop would allow this in the church.
Any time a conversation about Catholicism comes up, I refer to myself -- only half tongue in cheek -- as a "recovering Catholic." As someone who is old enough to remember the esthetic glory of the Latin mass, I find the service you describe appalling. Makes me wonder if such syncretism is a common symptom of every culture in terminal decline. Except that in our current wave of syncretism, there's the added factor of virtue-signaling. Or as I might call in if I were in one of my more crotchety moods, pandering. They must honestly believe that things like this makes them more "relevant," and thus somehow more appealing.
The video link brings one back to this article rather than the video