Recipe For Peace
Preaching
Distinctively Different
"There is no God!" blatantly he shouted. He would cross his arms and scream up into heaven, "If there is a God, let him strike me dead!" Then he would wait defiantly for that which he knew would not happen. Bob was the most crude, profane, and distasteful person I had ever met. I met him in my third summer in the Republic Steel Mill in Gadsden, Alabama, working to earn money to go back to college to study for the ministry. And, oh, when he found out I was a young preacher! "Preachers are all liars," he spouted. "They all are just after your money. I don't believe in an educated preacher," he spewed about three inches from my face. For a man who said he did not believe in God, he sure used his name a lot. But, if one could wade through all that venom and vengeance spurting from his foul mouth, one would find that he probably believed in God as much as anyone. He was just mad. Years before, he had been a church person. But then his little daughter, his only daughter, had burned to death in a fire. He needed to make peace with his God.
"How's Buddy?" That is all he said. I was not there, but Dennis Fondren who owned the barber shop swears that is all he said. "How's Buddy?" With that reference to his brother, the man said not a word, got up, and walked out of the barber shop without getting his hair cut. Several years earlier, he and his brother, both wealthy, had disagreed over something, probably relatively insignificant, when their mother died. Now, he would not speak to or even speak about his own sibling. The man needed to make peace with his brother.
She had a very good husband. I knew him well. She had a very good husband, but she told me once that he was only a paycheck. She had a very good husband, but often she would demean and belittle him in public. She had a very good husband, but she was not always faithful to him. She had a close call with death - long hospital stay. My prayer as her pastor was that this premature brush with the inevitable would bring her to her senses. It made her worse! And her very good husband left her. "I've lost two," she said, "him and the baby I gave up for adoption before I met him." Her guilt was ruining her life. She needed to make peace with herself.
Peace! How do you define peace? It is not an easy thing. The United Nations might define peace as the absence of hostility. The Old Testament word for peace, "shalom," can be defined as "wholeness." "Be whole - non--fragmented." Paul might define peace as the result of the loss of enmity caused by sin between ourselves and God. That which has been separated is now brought back together or reconciled. How do you define peace? There are probably as many definitions as there are people who are reading this. However you define peace, you know when you have it and you know when you don't.
Paul knew that the church at Philippi did not have peace. Two women, Euodia and Syntyche, were at odds with each other. Do not picture Paul as picking on women or having an unhealthy attitude toward women in the work of the church or at Philippi in particular. We know from 1 Corinthians 11:5 that women prayed and preached in Paul's churches. We know from Acts 16:40 that the church at Philippi was begun and often met in the home of a woman named Lydia. In fact, these two women, Euodia and Syntyche, have stood side by side with Paul in the work of the gospel. Paul is saying that these two important leaders at the church in Philippi should get their act together.
Don't be surprised or dismayed because there was conflict in the church. There are no perfect churches. The one I serve is not perfect simply due to the fact that I am a member. In fact, our firm belief in the biblical doctrine of the priesthood of every believer guarantees that we reserve the right to have interpretations and opinions that may differ. The old joke is all too true that wherever you have three Baptists, you will have four different opinions. You also may have heard the story of the man who was rescued from a deserted island after many years of isolation. "What did you do all those years?" the reporter asked. "Well, I hunted, fished, and built those three buildings." "What are those buildings for?" the reporter pursued. "One is my house and the other is my church," replied the rescued man. "What is the purpose of the third building?" The writer asked. "Oh, nothing!" the man replied. "Nothing!" the reporter asked. "Well, if you must know," the man replied, "that is the church I used to attend." It seems that conflict is our common plight.
We have something in common "in the Lord," and what we have in common is greater than anything we can ever have in difference. Thus, Paul urges the church to "stand firm in the Lord" (v. 1). So, Paul urges that these two be reminded that servant leaders should set aside personal preferences and differences for the benefit of the fellowship "in the Lord."
In addressing this situation, Paul is giving a recipe for peace within the church and its individual members. In these closing words, which almost defy development, to possibly his favorite church, Paul is cramming into this last minute list directives and imperatives around the things that make for peace. He may be implying that this undefined peace may be a by--product of doing something else. He may be saying that one will not find peace through a frontal attack. God's peace may be his gift to us, a serendipitous wayside sacrament joyfully discovered by doing what we already know to do.
Perhaps Paul is pontificating that the first ingredient in this recipe for peace is to choose to think rightly. Paul professes that we can "rejoice always" (v. 4). We have to remember that Paul is in prison. Philippians 2 reminds us that he does not know from one day to the next whether he will be alive or not. The dreaded knock on the cell door could sound at any moment. Even in these circumstances Paul could rejoice without reserve. Needless to say, this is a deep--seated internal joy not dependent upon outside circumstances.
A colleague tells of a friend who once showed to her a wish list. It was headed by the entry of a new Cadillac and included in descending order a new house, a new boat, jewelry, and so on. The last entry on the list was "peace of mind." If the friend has to wait on the attainment of her list to have peace of mind, she may have a long wait. She is similar to the six--year--old girl who was expressing extreme disappointment to her mother because she had to be one of the children around the manger scene in the church Christmas program. "I want to be an angel," she said. "They are the ones who sing the songs of rejoicing. I can't rejoice unless I'm an angel." Most of us will never be an angel in this life or ever have the chance to be. But, we should not let it be a condition for our rejoicing!
An additional ingredient under the heading of "think rightly" in Paul's recipe for peace is "don't worry - about anything" (v. 6). In fact, worry changes nothing but the worrier, often to the negative extent that our creative juices are strangled and life is robbed of its vitality. A. J. Cronin states that only eight percent of our worries are legitimate, and the great majority of our concerns never occur! Emerson said it best:
Some of your hurts you have cured.
And the sharpest you still have survived,
But what torment of grief you've endured
From evils that never arrived.
(From "Needless Worry" by Ralph Waldo Emerson)
This was illustrated to me recently when I read the story of the minister's mother who was worried to death that she was going to die of cancer. For 42 years she worried and worried. And, sure enough, she died - of pneumonia! For 42 years she worried about the wrong thing!
From a positive viewpoint, worry is a distortion of our capacity to care. The irresponsible seldom worry. From a negative viewpoint, worry is a mild form of agnosticism. Since we feel God will not or cannot act, we feel we have to take matters in our own hands and play the destructive game of "what if?"
Paul is saying that God is near (v. 5). We can trust him! It is said that angels can fly because they take themselves so lightly. Possibly we ought to take ourselves more lightly, take God more seriously, and take our worries to the God of peace.
The third ingredient in Paul's recipe under the heading of "think rightly" is to fix our minds upon the higher and finer attributes of life (v. 8). Here Paul draws upon the Greek moralists of his day, possibly Stoics, and baptizes these terms into advice for the Christian congregation. Think about, dwell upon, steadily hold onto whatever is true, noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent, and praise worthy. Paul is directing them to expose their minds deliberately to the creative impact of the positive realities of the highest and best. Again Emerson is helpful when he said, "A man is what he thinks about all day long." The computer folks say, "Garbage in, garbage out!" Paul's first ingredient is intentionally to mix well the decisions to rejoice, not to worry, and to saturate our minds with the higher things regardless of outside influences or circumstances.
Billy Graham tells the story of an Eskimo fisherman who came to town every Saturday afternoon. He always brought with him his two dogs. One was white and the other was black. He had taught them to fight on command. Every Saturday afternoon in the town square the people would gather to watch these two dogs fight, and the fisherman would take bets. On one Saturday the black dog would win; another Saturday, the white dog would win - but the fisherman always won! His friends began to ask him how he was so successful. "It is simple," he said, "I starve one and feed the other. The one I feed always wins because he is stronger."1
It is our choice as to which side of our nature we feed.
Paul continues by stating that we not only have the power in Christ to choose to think rightly, we also have the ability to choose the right role models (v. 9a). It is true that we become like those we most admire. I have had dozens of role models in my family like my brother, father, and grandfathers. Sports figures like Lou Gehrig, Sandy Koufax, and David Robinson have inspired me. Fellow ministers like Kress Davis, Scott Bryant, and LeVan Parker have often caused me to envy their bountiful gifts but have challenged me, as well, to develop the few I have. I have often said, "I would like to be like them." But I do not think I have ever said, "Be like me!" I am afraid that my example would not support my exhortation. Not so with Paul! "Whatsoever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me - put into practice" (v. 9a). Wow! That is confidence in the witness of one's life.
I recently read the story of a father and his young son who approached a well--known sports figure to ask for his autograph. He willingly obliged. As he was signing their program the father said, "I hope that my son will be just like you when he grows up." The sports person stopped and replied, "What's wrong with your son becoming like you?" Good question! Is there anything wrong with those around us becoming like we are, especially if we are striving to become like Jesus?
The third and I think most vital ingredient in Paul's recipe for peace is his advice "to pray - with thanksgiving - about everything" (v. 6). This is the heart of the matter. God is near! (v. 5). Trust him! Put your energy into developing your relationship to him in prayer, in the spirit of gratitude, in all circumstances, good and bad.
To pray is to look life squarely in the face and to choose to deal with it. Prayer is not escape or avoidance. Prayer is not retreating into an ivory tower and losing oneself in a fog of other worldliness. It is not the Buddhistic approach of indifference.
To be honest with you, my efforts to avoid the problems of life have not met with ringing success. In fact, I identify with the story told by Halford Luccock recorded in The New York Times in an article by A. B. C. Whipple. There was in Australia during the 1930s a scholar of world events who foresaw that a great war was sure to break out. He realized that Japan would be one of the belligerents. Accordingly, this twentieth century wise man studied the atlas in search of the perfect hiding place, the best possible island of escape from the storm about to break across the civilized world. By the employment of careful logic and the process of deduction, he finally selected the spot, an obscure, virtually uninhabited island, and in the summer of 1939 he went ashore there. The name of the island was Guadalcanal!2
I also can identify with Joseph Gallaher's statement: "Our human choice is never between pain and no pain but rather between the pain of loving and the pain of not loving." Prayer is not the place we seek to escape the pain of living and loving but where we share the pain with our Partner in life. He is near. We can trust him. And as we do so, we can create an atmosphere in our own hearts and minds to receive his gift of peace as it finds its way to someone else. Then, the God of peace will stand sentry, garrison, and guard our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus (v. 7).
The kind of peace that the God of peace gives (v. 9b) is more than the absence of hostility, more than wholeness or removing the barrier to reconciliation. God's gift of his peace is the presence of love - his love in our hearts. That is the main thing that makes for peace and defines a life that is distinctively different.
John Claypool relates a scene from the movie Stars In My Crown. It seems that there was an old black man, a kind of Uncle Remus figure, who lived in a small Southern town and had befriended three generations of children there in innumerable ways. He owned a little farm where he continued to live by himself after his wife died. And it so happened that some precious metal was discovered in that area and great pressure developed to buy up his property and to begin mining the ore. The old black man had not lived in a money culture, and he could not understand this "boom town" mentality. All he wanted was to stay in his familiar surroundings until he died, and so he refused even to talk of selling out. This led to increasingly angry confrontations. The banker in town and other commercial interests who wanted that land began to resort to all kinds of terror tactics. They burned down his barn, shot through his house one night, and finally issued the ultimatum that if he did not agree to sell by sundown the next night, they were going to come and lynch him - Ku Klux Klan style. The preacher in the community got wind of this power play, and so he went out to confer with the old black man. Come sundown that evening, sure enough, here came the leading citizens of that community, dressed in their white hoods, ropes and all, ready to hang an innocent man if they did not get their way. The old black man came out on the porch, dressed in his Sunday best, with the preacher by his side. The preacher told the would--be executors that the old black man was ready to meet his fate, and had asked him to draw up his last will and testament, which he wanted read at this time. With that, the preacher began to read how the old black man was giving his property and all the things he had to the various individuals who were standing at that moment ready to kill him. He willed the farm to the banker who seemed so anxious to get his hands on it. He gave his rifle to another of the men there who had first learned to hunt with it. He gave his fishing pole to another. In fact, item by item the old black man responded to the individuals who were preparing to kill him with acts of generosity and affection. The impact was incredible. Seeing goodness offered in the face of such evil was more than even these greedy men could swallow, and one by one, in shame, they turned away until the lynching mob had evaporated all together. The old preacher's grandson had been watching this whole drama at a distance, and after the crisis was passed and the two men had gone back into the house, the little boy came running up and asked breathlessly, "What kind of will was that, Grandaddy? What kind of will was that?" To which the preacher answered softly, "It was the will of God, son! It was the will of God."3
____________
1. Billy Graham, The Holy Spirit (Waco: Word, 1978), p. 81.
2. Halford E. Luccock, More Preaching Values In The Epistles Of Paul (New York: Harper and Brothers, 1961), p. 208.
3. John R. Claypool, "Responding Creatively To Evil," an unpublished sermon preached at Northminster Baptist Church, Jackson, Mississippi, March 18, 1979.
"How's Buddy?" That is all he said. I was not there, but Dennis Fondren who owned the barber shop swears that is all he said. "How's Buddy?" With that reference to his brother, the man said not a word, got up, and walked out of the barber shop without getting his hair cut. Several years earlier, he and his brother, both wealthy, had disagreed over something, probably relatively insignificant, when their mother died. Now, he would not speak to or even speak about his own sibling. The man needed to make peace with his brother.
She had a very good husband. I knew him well. She had a very good husband, but she told me once that he was only a paycheck. She had a very good husband, but often she would demean and belittle him in public. She had a very good husband, but she was not always faithful to him. She had a close call with death - long hospital stay. My prayer as her pastor was that this premature brush with the inevitable would bring her to her senses. It made her worse! And her very good husband left her. "I've lost two," she said, "him and the baby I gave up for adoption before I met him." Her guilt was ruining her life. She needed to make peace with herself.
Peace! How do you define peace? It is not an easy thing. The United Nations might define peace as the absence of hostility. The Old Testament word for peace, "shalom," can be defined as "wholeness." "Be whole - non--fragmented." Paul might define peace as the result of the loss of enmity caused by sin between ourselves and God. That which has been separated is now brought back together or reconciled. How do you define peace? There are probably as many definitions as there are people who are reading this. However you define peace, you know when you have it and you know when you don't.
Paul knew that the church at Philippi did not have peace. Two women, Euodia and Syntyche, were at odds with each other. Do not picture Paul as picking on women or having an unhealthy attitude toward women in the work of the church or at Philippi in particular. We know from 1 Corinthians 11:5 that women prayed and preached in Paul's churches. We know from Acts 16:40 that the church at Philippi was begun and often met in the home of a woman named Lydia. In fact, these two women, Euodia and Syntyche, have stood side by side with Paul in the work of the gospel. Paul is saying that these two important leaders at the church in Philippi should get their act together.
Don't be surprised or dismayed because there was conflict in the church. There are no perfect churches. The one I serve is not perfect simply due to the fact that I am a member. In fact, our firm belief in the biblical doctrine of the priesthood of every believer guarantees that we reserve the right to have interpretations and opinions that may differ. The old joke is all too true that wherever you have three Baptists, you will have four different opinions. You also may have heard the story of the man who was rescued from a deserted island after many years of isolation. "What did you do all those years?" the reporter asked. "Well, I hunted, fished, and built those three buildings." "What are those buildings for?" the reporter pursued. "One is my house and the other is my church," replied the rescued man. "What is the purpose of the third building?" The writer asked. "Oh, nothing!" the man replied. "Nothing!" the reporter asked. "Well, if you must know," the man replied, "that is the church I used to attend." It seems that conflict is our common plight.
We have something in common "in the Lord," and what we have in common is greater than anything we can ever have in difference. Thus, Paul urges the church to "stand firm in the Lord" (v. 1). So, Paul urges that these two be reminded that servant leaders should set aside personal preferences and differences for the benefit of the fellowship "in the Lord."
In addressing this situation, Paul is giving a recipe for peace within the church and its individual members. In these closing words, which almost defy development, to possibly his favorite church, Paul is cramming into this last minute list directives and imperatives around the things that make for peace. He may be implying that this undefined peace may be a by--product of doing something else. He may be saying that one will not find peace through a frontal attack. God's peace may be his gift to us, a serendipitous wayside sacrament joyfully discovered by doing what we already know to do.
Perhaps Paul is pontificating that the first ingredient in this recipe for peace is to choose to think rightly. Paul professes that we can "rejoice always" (v. 4). We have to remember that Paul is in prison. Philippians 2 reminds us that he does not know from one day to the next whether he will be alive or not. The dreaded knock on the cell door could sound at any moment. Even in these circumstances Paul could rejoice without reserve. Needless to say, this is a deep--seated internal joy not dependent upon outside circumstances.
A colleague tells of a friend who once showed to her a wish list. It was headed by the entry of a new Cadillac and included in descending order a new house, a new boat, jewelry, and so on. The last entry on the list was "peace of mind." If the friend has to wait on the attainment of her list to have peace of mind, she may have a long wait. She is similar to the six--year--old girl who was expressing extreme disappointment to her mother because she had to be one of the children around the manger scene in the church Christmas program. "I want to be an angel," she said. "They are the ones who sing the songs of rejoicing. I can't rejoice unless I'm an angel." Most of us will never be an angel in this life or ever have the chance to be. But, we should not let it be a condition for our rejoicing!
An additional ingredient under the heading of "think rightly" in Paul's recipe for peace is "don't worry - about anything" (v. 6). In fact, worry changes nothing but the worrier, often to the negative extent that our creative juices are strangled and life is robbed of its vitality. A. J. Cronin states that only eight percent of our worries are legitimate, and the great majority of our concerns never occur! Emerson said it best:
Some of your hurts you have cured.
And the sharpest you still have survived,
But what torment of grief you've endured
From evils that never arrived.
(From "Needless Worry" by Ralph Waldo Emerson)
This was illustrated to me recently when I read the story of the minister's mother who was worried to death that she was going to die of cancer. For 42 years she worried and worried. And, sure enough, she died - of pneumonia! For 42 years she worried about the wrong thing!
From a positive viewpoint, worry is a distortion of our capacity to care. The irresponsible seldom worry. From a negative viewpoint, worry is a mild form of agnosticism. Since we feel God will not or cannot act, we feel we have to take matters in our own hands and play the destructive game of "what if?"
Paul is saying that God is near (v. 5). We can trust him! It is said that angels can fly because they take themselves so lightly. Possibly we ought to take ourselves more lightly, take God more seriously, and take our worries to the God of peace.
The third ingredient in Paul's recipe under the heading of "think rightly" is to fix our minds upon the higher and finer attributes of life (v. 8). Here Paul draws upon the Greek moralists of his day, possibly Stoics, and baptizes these terms into advice for the Christian congregation. Think about, dwell upon, steadily hold onto whatever is true, noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent, and praise worthy. Paul is directing them to expose their minds deliberately to the creative impact of the positive realities of the highest and best. Again Emerson is helpful when he said, "A man is what he thinks about all day long." The computer folks say, "Garbage in, garbage out!" Paul's first ingredient is intentionally to mix well the decisions to rejoice, not to worry, and to saturate our minds with the higher things regardless of outside influences or circumstances.
Billy Graham tells the story of an Eskimo fisherman who came to town every Saturday afternoon. He always brought with him his two dogs. One was white and the other was black. He had taught them to fight on command. Every Saturday afternoon in the town square the people would gather to watch these two dogs fight, and the fisherman would take bets. On one Saturday the black dog would win; another Saturday, the white dog would win - but the fisherman always won! His friends began to ask him how he was so successful. "It is simple," he said, "I starve one and feed the other. The one I feed always wins because he is stronger."1
It is our choice as to which side of our nature we feed.
Paul continues by stating that we not only have the power in Christ to choose to think rightly, we also have the ability to choose the right role models (v. 9a). It is true that we become like those we most admire. I have had dozens of role models in my family like my brother, father, and grandfathers. Sports figures like Lou Gehrig, Sandy Koufax, and David Robinson have inspired me. Fellow ministers like Kress Davis, Scott Bryant, and LeVan Parker have often caused me to envy their bountiful gifts but have challenged me, as well, to develop the few I have. I have often said, "I would like to be like them." But I do not think I have ever said, "Be like me!" I am afraid that my example would not support my exhortation. Not so with Paul! "Whatsoever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me - put into practice" (v. 9a). Wow! That is confidence in the witness of one's life.
I recently read the story of a father and his young son who approached a well--known sports figure to ask for his autograph. He willingly obliged. As he was signing their program the father said, "I hope that my son will be just like you when he grows up." The sports person stopped and replied, "What's wrong with your son becoming like you?" Good question! Is there anything wrong with those around us becoming like we are, especially if we are striving to become like Jesus?
The third and I think most vital ingredient in Paul's recipe for peace is his advice "to pray - with thanksgiving - about everything" (v. 6). This is the heart of the matter. God is near! (v. 5). Trust him! Put your energy into developing your relationship to him in prayer, in the spirit of gratitude, in all circumstances, good and bad.
To pray is to look life squarely in the face and to choose to deal with it. Prayer is not escape or avoidance. Prayer is not retreating into an ivory tower and losing oneself in a fog of other worldliness. It is not the Buddhistic approach of indifference.
To be honest with you, my efforts to avoid the problems of life have not met with ringing success. In fact, I identify with the story told by Halford Luccock recorded in The New York Times in an article by A. B. C. Whipple. There was in Australia during the 1930s a scholar of world events who foresaw that a great war was sure to break out. He realized that Japan would be one of the belligerents. Accordingly, this twentieth century wise man studied the atlas in search of the perfect hiding place, the best possible island of escape from the storm about to break across the civilized world. By the employment of careful logic and the process of deduction, he finally selected the spot, an obscure, virtually uninhabited island, and in the summer of 1939 he went ashore there. The name of the island was Guadalcanal!2
I also can identify with Joseph Gallaher's statement: "Our human choice is never between pain and no pain but rather between the pain of loving and the pain of not loving." Prayer is not the place we seek to escape the pain of living and loving but where we share the pain with our Partner in life. He is near. We can trust him. And as we do so, we can create an atmosphere in our own hearts and minds to receive his gift of peace as it finds its way to someone else. Then, the God of peace will stand sentry, garrison, and guard our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus (v. 7).
The kind of peace that the God of peace gives (v. 9b) is more than the absence of hostility, more than wholeness or removing the barrier to reconciliation. God's gift of his peace is the presence of love - his love in our hearts. That is the main thing that makes for peace and defines a life that is distinctively different.
John Claypool relates a scene from the movie Stars In My Crown. It seems that there was an old black man, a kind of Uncle Remus figure, who lived in a small Southern town and had befriended three generations of children there in innumerable ways. He owned a little farm where he continued to live by himself after his wife died. And it so happened that some precious metal was discovered in that area and great pressure developed to buy up his property and to begin mining the ore. The old black man had not lived in a money culture, and he could not understand this "boom town" mentality. All he wanted was to stay in his familiar surroundings until he died, and so he refused even to talk of selling out. This led to increasingly angry confrontations. The banker in town and other commercial interests who wanted that land began to resort to all kinds of terror tactics. They burned down his barn, shot through his house one night, and finally issued the ultimatum that if he did not agree to sell by sundown the next night, they were going to come and lynch him - Ku Klux Klan style. The preacher in the community got wind of this power play, and so he went out to confer with the old black man. Come sundown that evening, sure enough, here came the leading citizens of that community, dressed in their white hoods, ropes and all, ready to hang an innocent man if they did not get their way. The old black man came out on the porch, dressed in his Sunday best, with the preacher by his side. The preacher told the would--be executors that the old black man was ready to meet his fate, and had asked him to draw up his last will and testament, which he wanted read at this time. With that, the preacher began to read how the old black man was giving his property and all the things he had to the various individuals who were standing at that moment ready to kill him. He willed the farm to the banker who seemed so anxious to get his hands on it. He gave his rifle to another of the men there who had first learned to hunt with it. He gave his fishing pole to another. In fact, item by item the old black man responded to the individuals who were preparing to kill him with acts of generosity and affection. The impact was incredible. Seeing goodness offered in the face of such evil was more than even these greedy men could swallow, and one by one, in shame, they turned away until the lynching mob had evaporated all together. The old preacher's grandson had been watching this whole drama at a distance, and after the crisis was passed and the two men had gone back into the house, the little boy came running up and asked breathlessly, "What kind of will was that, Grandaddy? What kind of will was that?" To which the preacher answered softly, "It was the will of God, son! It was the will of God."3
____________
1. Billy Graham, The Holy Spirit (Waco: Word, 1978), p. 81.
2. Halford E. Luccock, More Preaching Values In The Epistles Of Paul (New York: Harper and Brothers, 1961), p. 208.
3. John R. Claypool, "Responding Creatively To Evil," an unpublished sermon preached at Northminster Baptist Church, Jackson, Mississippi, March 18, 1979.
