Shulchan Arukh, Orach Chayim 120:1-121:2

Hook

There are moments in life when our souls yearn to connect, to offer something of ourselves to the vast, unseen Mystery that cradles existence. We gather our joys, our sorrows, our deepest longings, and present them, hoping they will be seen, heard, and held. This profound human impulse, to give and to be received, lies at the heart of our prayer. Today, we delve into a prayer that asks for acceptance, a blessing called R'tzei, and discover how music can transform this ancient plea into a living, breathing offering of the self. We'll explore the spiritual alchemy that turns our words and intentions into a sacred sacrifice, not of animals, but of our very being. Let us journey together into a soundscape of longing and divine embrace.

Text Snapshot

Our journey begins with a directive from the Shulchan Arukh, the foundational code of Jewish law, which guides our daily spiritual practices. It instructs us on the proper recitation of the Amidah, the standing prayer, the heart of our daily liturgy. Specifically, we'll focus on the blessing known as R'tzei – "Be pleased, O Lord."

The Shulchan Arukh, Orach Chayim 120:1 states:

We say "R'tzei" in all the [Amidah] prayers; and this is not like those who have a custom to not say it in the afternoon [Amidah] prayer.

This simple, seemingly technical instruction immediately opens a window into a deeper spiritual conversation. Why the emphasis on saying R'tzei in all prayers? What is its essence that it must not be omitted?

The core of R'tzei is a plea for the restoration of the Temple service in Jerusalem and, crucially for our exploration, the acceptance of our prayers and spiritual offerings. The key phrase we will meditate upon, found within the R'tzei blessing, is:

וְאִשֵּׁי יִשְׂרָאֵל וּתְפִלָּתָם תְּקַבֵּל בְּרָצוֹן V'ishei Yisrael u'tefilatam tikabel b'ratzon "And the fire-offerings of Israel and their prayer, may You accept with favor."

Let's savor the imagery and sound words embedded in this profound verse:

• וְאִשֵּׁי (v'ishei): "And the fire-offerings." This word immediately evokes ancient rituals, the rising smoke of sacrifice, a tangible offering consumed by fire and ascending to the divine. It speaks of giving something precious, transforming it into an ethereal essence.
• יִשְׂרָאֵל (Yisrael): "Of Israel." This connects the offering to a collective, a people, a shared spiritual destiny. It's not just an individual act, but part of a larger tapestry of communal devotion.
• וּתְפִלָּתָם (u'tefilatam): "And their prayer." Here, the ancient fire-offering is immediately juxtaposed with prayer, suggesting a profound continuity and transformation. Our spoken, whispered, or silent prayers become the new "fire-offerings."
• תְּקַבֵּל (tikabel): "May You accept." This is the core verb, the ultimate desire. It's an active, hopeful plea for divine reception, for our efforts to be acknowledged and welcomed.
• בְּרָצוֹן (b'ratzon): "With favor." Not just accepted, but accepted willingly, lovingly, with divine pleasure and grace. It speaks to a deep yearning for intimacy and affirmation from the Divine.

The commentaries illuminate the depth of this prayer, revealing how "fire-offerings" transcend their literal meaning in a world without a Temple. The Tur on 120:1 beautifully explains this transformation: "And even though there is no service [of sacrifices] now, we pray for the prayer, which is in place of the sacrifice, that it be accepted with favor before the Holy One, Blessed Be He." This is a radical shift: our words, our intentions, our very selves, become the offering.

The Mishnah Berurah on 120:1, referencing the Tur, further elaborates: "And even though there is no service [of sacrifices] now, we pray for the prayer that it is in place of the sacrifice, that it be accepted with favor before the Holy One, Blessed Be He." He then introduces a breathtaking Midrashic interpretation: "And in the Midrash, there is [the teaching that] Michael, the great angel, offers the souls of the righteous on the altar above [meaning he presents them for favor before God as a pleasing aroma]." Here, "Ishei Yisrael" takes on a cosmic dimension, referring not just to prayers, but to the very souls of God's people, presented by an angel as a sweet aroma to the Divine.

The Kaf HaChayim on 120:1:1 synthesizes these views: "The prayer of Israel, which is in place of the 'Ishei' (fire-offerings/sacrifices), they will be accepted with favor... And this is the wording of the Midrash: 'There are divisions; some say the souls of the righteous, and some say lambs of fire.' And this is what we say in the 18 [blessings] in 'Avodah,' 'and the fire-offerings of Israel,' etc... meaning the people of Israel who are offered by Michael, or it could be from the word 'Isheh' (fire-offering/pleasing aroma), meaning the sacrifices of Israel, that is, their souls. That they themselves are offered by Michael, and also the prayer of Israel, all will be accepted with favor."

Consider also the Chokhmat Shlomo on 120:1, who views the entire prayer as an "Avodah" (service) of the heart: "And in my opinion, one can say the entire intention concerning prayer, as it is written, 'And restore the service to the sanctuary of Your house,' according to their saying, 'If one prays in Jerusalem, he should direct his face towards the Temple; if one stands outside the Land of Israel, he should direct his face towards the Land of Israel.' If so, it is proven from this that the entire path of prayers is to enter the Temple first, and from there they ascend upwards. Therefore, we ask that even though we pray in other places, nevertheless, 'May You be pleased, O Lord, with Your people Israel and with their prayer.' This means 'Restore the service' - meaning the prayer [as they said, 'Which is the service of the heart? This is prayer'] - 'to the sanctuary of Your house,' that first You bring the prayer from the place where one prays to the sanctuary of Your house, and the prayer enters the Holy of Holies, and there 'and the fire-offerings of Israel and their prayer' will be accepted to ascend upwards." This commentary adds a spatial dimension, imagining our prayers traveling to the spiritual heart of the world before ascending.

The historical debate around omitting R'tzei in Mincha (afternoon prayer), mentioned in the Shulchan Arukh and detailed in the Tur on 120:1, highlights the significance of this blessing. While some communities once had this custom, the prevailing view, as underscored by the Shulchan Arukh and later commentaries like the Mishnah Berurah on 120:1 and Kaf HaChayim on 120:3:1, is that R'tzei is essential for all prayers. Its consistent inclusion underscores the unchanging need for divine acceptance of our spiritual offerings, regardless of the time of day or the specific context of the prayer. It solidifies the idea that our personal and communal prayer life, in all its manifestations, consistently seeks this sacred reception.

This brief snapshot reveals a prayer that transforms our understanding of devotion. It moves from outward ritual to inward intention, from physical sacrifice to the offering of the self and the soul. It invites us to consider what we truly offer when we pray, and how we long for that offering to be received "with favor."

Close Reading

The simple decree to say "R'tzei" in all prayers, and the profound phrase "And the fire-offerings of Israel and their prayer, may You accept with favor," unlock a rich emotional landscape concerning our yearning for connection, the nature of offering, and the experience of divine acceptance. This seemingly technical legal text, when layered with its profound commentaries, becomes a guide for emotional regulation, not by suppressing or denying feelings, but by providing a framework for their truthful expression and transformation into spiritual offering.

Insight 1: Prayer as the Sacred Act of Offering Our Whole Selves

The most striking emotional insight from "V'ishei Yisrael u'tefilatam" is the radical redefinition of "sacrifice." Historically, "ishei" referred to fire-offerings, tangible animal sacrifices brought to the Temple. With the Temple's destruction, this physical ritual ceased. Yet, the prayer retains the language of "fire-offerings," immediately followed by "and their prayer." This juxtaposition, as highlighted by the Tur, Turei Zahav, and Mishnah Berurah, is not merely a linguistic remnant but a profound spiritual transformation: our prayers have become our sacrifices.

Emotionally, this transformation is incredibly liberating and empowering. It means that the path to offering oneself to the Divine is no longer confined to specific rituals or locations, but is accessible through the most intimate and personal act: prayer. When we pray, we are not just uttering words; we are presenting our very being. This involves a deep act of vulnerability. What do we "offer" in our prayers? We offer our hopes, our fears, our anxieties, our joys, our successes, and our failures. We offer our woundedness and our gratitude. We offer the messiness of our human experience, the parts of us that feel incomplete or unworthy. The imagery of "fire-offerings" suggests a process of purification and transformation. Just as fire refines metals, prayer refines the soul. When we bring our raw emotions, our unfiltered thoughts, and our earnest intentions to prayer, we are, in essence, placing them on a spiritual altar, trusting that they will be transformed and made acceptable. This is the ultimate act of emotional honesty – not pretending to be serene when we are agitated, or joyful when we are sad, but bringing all of it to the divine encounter.

Consider the everyday moments when we feel overwhelmed, frustrated, or deeply sad. Instead of trying to push these feelings away, the framework of "prayer as sacrifice" invites us to actively offer them. "Here, God," we can silently say, "is my anxiety about tomorrow. Here is my grief over loss. Here is my simmering resentment. Here is my bursting joy." By consciously offering these states, we engage in an act of surrender. We acknowledge that we cannot always control our emotional landscape, but we can choose how we relate to it. We choose to present it, not as a burden to be discarded, but as a part of ourselves worthy of divine attention and acceptance. This act of offering is a powerful form of emotional regulation because it shifts us from being passively consumed by our emotions to actively engaging with them in a spiritual context. It grants us a sense of agency and purpose even in moments of emotional distress.

The Chokhmat Shlomo further enriches this by interpreting "Avodah" (service) as "prayer" itself, drawing on the rabbinic saying, "Which is the service of the heart? This is prayer." He envisions our prayers, wherever they are uttered, first traveling to the spiritual heart of the Temple, the Holy of Holies, before ascending. Emotionally, this provides a profound sense of rootedness and direction for our prayers. Even if we feel lost or scattered, the image of our prayers converging at a sacred center before ascending can be incredibly grounding. It suggests that our individual emotional outpourings are part of a larger, unified spiritual current. It assures us that our fragmented thoughts and feelings, when offered in prayer, find a pathway, a sacred architecture that guides them towards their divine destination. This vision can transform a feeling of isolated struggle into one of connected participation in a universal spiritual journey. It offers comfort that our sometimes-unformed prayers are not just flung into the void, but are carefully gathered and guided, ensuring their eventual ascent and acceptance. The act of directing our prayers, even metaphorically, towards this spiritual center gives them weight, intention, and a sense of belonging.

The debate among commentators regarding "Ishei Yisrael" as referring to "prayer at its proper time and not at its proper time," as noted by the Turei Zahav and Chokhmat Shlomo, adds another layer of emotional reassurance. This suggests that even our impromptu, unscripted prayers, those desperate pleas or sudden bursts of gratitude that arise outside of formal prayer times, are also considered "fire-offerings." This validates the authenticity of spontaneous emotional expression in our spiritual lives. It tells us that God accepts not just our perfectly articulated petitions, but also the raw, unpolished cries of our hearts, whenever and wherever they emerge. This inclusive understanding fosters a sense of continuous connection, implying that every moment of our emotional life can be transformed into a spiritual offering, fostering a constant, open channel of communication with the Divine. It dismantles any notion that our prayers must be perfect or performed at specific times to be worthy of acceptance, instead emphasizing the sincerity and continuous nature of our devotion.

In essence, this first insight teaches us that prayer is the ultimate tool for emotional regulation through honest offering. It invites us to:

1. Acknowledge and name our emotions: Rather than stuffing them down, we bring them to the forefront.
2. Actively offer them: We consciously present our internal state to the Divine, treating our feelings as valid components of our spiritual service.
3. Trust in transformation: We release the need to fix or control our emotions, trusting that in the act of offering, they are refined and made acceptable.
4. Embrace continuity: We recognize that every moment, every feeling, can be a potential offering, fostering a deeper, more integrated spiritual life.

This framework shifts our relationship with our inner world from one of struggle and self-judgment to one of intentional engagement and sacred trust. It allows us to approach our emotional landscape not as a battlefield, but as a sacred space where the raw material of our human experience can be lovingly transformed into an offering fit for the Divine.

Insight 2: The Comfort of Divine Acceptance and Angelic Intercession

Beyond the act of offering, the prayer moves to the profound desire for acceptance: "may You accept with favor." This yearning for divine reception touches a fundamental human need to be seen, validated, and loved unconditionally. The feeling of being truly accepted, with all our flaws and efforts, is deeply healing and central to emotional well-being. This is not about seeking external validation in a superficial way, but about a deep spiritual affirmation that our existence and our strivings are meaningful in the eyes of the Divine.

The commentaries introduce a breathtaking image that amplifies this sense of acceptance: the Midrashic teaching, cited by Tur, Turei Zahav, and Mishnah Berurah, that Michael, the great angel, offers the souls of the righteous on the altar above. The Kaf HaChayim clarifies: "meaning the people of Israel who are offered by Michael, or it could be from the word 'Isheh' (fire-offering/pleasing aroma), meaning the sacrifices of Israel, that is, their souls. That they themselves are offered by Michael, and also the prayer of Israel, all will be accepted with favor." This imagery profoundly reframes our understanding of divine acceptance. It suggests that not only our prayers, but our very souls, our essential selves, are being presented and received.

Emotionally, this angelic intercession offers immense comfort and reassurance. When we pray, especially when we feel our prayers are weak, inadequate, or unheard, the image of Michael taking our "souls" – our deepest essence, our inner light, our struggles, our intentions – and presenting them as a "pleasing aroma" to God can be incredibly soothing. It suggests that we are not alone in our spiritual efforts. There is a cosmic assistant, a divine advocate, ensuring that our offerings, however imperfect, reach their destination and are received with favor. This removes the burden of perfection from our shoulders. We don't have to worry if our prayers are eloquent enough, or if our intentions are pure enough, or if we are worthy enough. Michael, in this metaphor, acts as a filter, a refiner, ensuring that our essence is presented in its most acceptable form. This fosters a deep sense of trust and surrender, allowing us to release the need for control over the outcome of our prayers and simply focus on the act of offering.

This imagery also speaks to the profound value of human life and aspiration. If our very souls are considered worthy of being offered on a heavenly altar, it elevates our understanding of our own inherent sacredness. It reminds us that our struggles, our growth, our very being, are significant in the divine economy. This can be a powerful antidote to feelings of unworthiness, insignificance, or despair. When we feel overwhelmed by the complexities of life, or diminished by our failures, remembering that our souls are continually being presented by a celestial being to the Divine can re-instill a sense of profound purpose and intrinsic worth. It helps us regulate emotions of self-doubt and inadequacy by grounding us in a spiritual truth about our own inherent goodness and the tireless advocacy on our behalf.

The specific phrase "b'ratzon" (with favor) is critical here. It's not just acceptance out of obligation, but out of divine desire, love, and grace. This "favor" implies a reciprocal relationship, a loving embrace from the Divine. When we long for acceptance, we often fear judgment or rejection. The assurance of "favor" transforms this fear into hope. It tells us that God wants our offering, delights in our connection, and receives us with open arms. This fosters a sense of emotional safety and belonging in our spiritual life, reducing anxiety associated with seeking divine connection.

A related point, though seemingly technical, carries deep emotional resonance: the debate over including "meheirah" (speedily) in the prayer "may You speedily accept with love," as explored in Kaf HaChayim on 120:2:1. Some argue against "speedily" if "Ishei Yisrael" refers to the souls of the righteous, as it might imply praying for their speedy death. Others, like the Aruch HaShulchan, vigorously defend its inclusion, arguing it refers to the speedy acceptance of the offering, not the timing of anyone's demise. Emotionally, this debate highlights the tension between our human impatience and our trust in divine timing. We often want our prayers answered now, our suffering alleviated immediately. The desire for "speedy acceptance" reflects our inherent longing for immediate relief and reassurance. However, the counter-argument, while perhaps rooted in a specific interpretation, implicitly reminds us that divine processes unfold in their own time. This subtle tension in the prayer itself helps us navigate our impatience. It allows us to voice our desire for speed while simultaneously cultivating patience and trust in a larger, divine plan. We can pray for "speedy acceptance" of our offerings and our growth, while also acknowledging that true transformation and divine response may follow a different, more profound timetable. This balance helps regulate the frustration that often accompanies waiting and uncertainty, allowing us to hold both our urgent longing and a patient faith.

In summary, this second insight offers profound tools for emotional regulation by fostering:

1. Trust in divine reception: Knowing that our prayers and essence are not only heard but actively received "with favor."
2. Comfort in intercession: The image of Michael offering our souls provides a powerful sense of advocacy and removes the burden of perfection, allowing us to be authentically ourselves.
3. Affirmation of inherent worth: Our souls are deemed worthy of a heavenly altar, combating feelings of inadequacy and fostering self-acceptance.
4. Balance of longing and patience: The "meheirah" debate subtly guides us to articulate our desires while trusting in the Divine's perfect timing.

Together, these insights from the R'tzei blessing and its commentaries offer a comprehensive and deeply compassionate approach to emotional regulation through prayer. It's an invitation to bring our whole, messy, beautiful selves to the Divine, trusting that we will be seen, heard, accepted, and transformed, not in spite of our imperfections, but through the very act of offering them. This prayer is a profound embrace of our human experience, sanctifying it and elevating it to a divine dialogue.

Melody Cue

Music is the soul's native language, a direct channel for emotions that words can only hint at. For a prayer like "V'ishei Yisrael u'tefilatam tikabel b'ratzon," which embodies deep longing, vulnerability, and the profound hope for acceptance, melody becomes an essential prayer tool. We need sounds that can carry the weight of our offering and the light of divine favor.

Let's explore two distinct melodic approaches to fully embrace the emotional spectrum of this powerful phrase.

Contemplative Niggun for "V'ishei Yisrael u'tefilatam"

For the initial part of the phrase, "V'ishei Yisrael u'tefilatam" (And the fire-offerings of Israel and their prayer), we need a melody that evokes the act of offering itself – the gathering of our intentions, the vulnerability of presenting our true selves, and the quiet yearning for connection.

• Musical Character: Imagine a slow, introspective niggun in a minor key, perhaps a Freygish (Phrygian dominant) or Ahavah Rabbah (often associated with yearning and devotion) mode, common in Eastern European Jewish music. The melodic line should be fluid, almost sigh-like, with gentle ascents and descents that reflect the rising and falling of our emotions as we gather our offering.
• Structure: Start with a sustained, slightly melancholic note for "V'ishei," allowing the word to resonate with its ancient, sacrificial weight. Then, a slow, stepwise ascent for "Yisrael," suggesting the collective nature of the offering and a gentle lift of the soul. For "u'tefilatam," the melody might descend slightly, then rise again, depicting the "gathering" aspect of prayer – the bringing together of disparate thoughts and feelings. The rhythm should be unhurried, almost free-form, allowing ample space for breath and introspection between syllables.
• Emotional Impact: This niggun is designed to help you tap into the emotional truth of what you are offering. It allows for honest sadness, for the ache of what is lost or incomplete, and for the courageous vulnerability of presenting these raw parts of yourself. The minor key, while not overtly "sad," creates a contemplative space, acknowledging the effort and sincerity involved in truly offering one's "fire-offerings" and "prayer." It's a sonic embrace of the raw material of your spiritual life, validating its authenticity before it seeks acceptance. Think of it as a musical cradling of your offering, preparing it for presentation. The sustained notes encourage you to hold and feel the weight of what you're bringing before the Divine.

Expansive Chant for "Tikabel b'ratzon"

Once the offering has been gathered and presented, the heart moves to the hope of reception. For "Tikabel b'ratzon" (may You accept with favor), we need a shift in musical tone – from introspective offering to hopeful, expansive acceptance.

• Musical Character: This segment calls for a more open, perhaps even major-key-inflected melody, or at least a mode that resolves towards a sense of peace and affirmation. A simpler, more direct chant pattern would be appropriate here, signaling clarity and unwavering hope. It could draw from a Magen Avot mode, often used for blessings and a sense of calm.
• Structure: Begin "Tikabel" with a strong, clear, ascending phrase, symbolizing the ascent of the offering and the confident plea for acceptance. The melodic line for "b'ratzon" should then broaden, perhaps settling on a sustained, resonant note that feels like an opening, an embrace. The rhythm should be steady, perhaps a little more defined than the niggun, conveying a sense of certainty in the divine response.
• Emotional Impact: This melody aims to evoke the feeling of being truly seen, heard, and welcomed. The ascending lines for "Tikabel" embody the aspiration for divine connection, while the broadening, resonant tones of "b'ratzon" convey the deep satisfaction and peace that comes with feeling accepted with favor. It's a musical expression of trust, hope, and the profound relief of knowing one's efforts are not in vain. This chant helps regulate feelings of anxiety about being "enough," replacing them with a sense of divine affirmation. It's a sonic balm, a musical hug that reassures the soul of its inherent worth and the loving receptivity of the Divine. The clear, direct nature of a chant, as opposed to the more free-form niggun, reinforces the certainty of the plea and the anticipated positive response.

By employing these two contrasting yet complementary melodic cues, we create a complete musical arc for this powerful prayer. The niggun allows us to honestly gather and present our vulnerable offerings, while the chant ushers in the emotional experience of hopeful acceptance, bridging the gap between our human striving and divine grace.

Practice

This practice is designed to be a 60-second ritual, adaptable for your home, commute, or any moment you seek a grounding connection. It invites you to engage your breath, body, and voice to embody the spiritual truth of offering and acceptance.

The Offering and Acceptance Ritual (60 Seconds)

Preparation (5-10 seconds): Find a quiet moment. If possible, close your eyes or soften your gaze. Take three deep, slow breaths. Inhale deeply through your nose, feeling your chest and belly expand, and exhale slowly through your mouth, letting go of any tension. With each exhale, imagine releasing the clamor of the world and settling into your inner space. Gently bring your awareness to your heart center.

Step 1: Gathering Your "Fire-Offerings" (15 seconds) Silently or softly, begin to hum the Contemplative Niggun you imagined for "V'ishei Yisrael u'tefilatam." As you hum, bring to mind one specific emotion or experience from your day or your life that you wish to offer. It could be a feeling of gratitude, a challenge you're facing, a deep longing, a moment of joy, or a quiet sadness. Don't judge it; simply acknowledge it. Visualize this emotion or experience as a tangible "offering" in your hands or at your heart. It doesn't need to be perfect or beautiful; it just needs to be yours. Allow the slow, introspective melody to cradle this offering, validating its presence.

• If you're on a commute: You can hum internally, or even just feel the pulse of the imagined melody, directing your focus inward. Imagine the rhythm of the train or the car as part of this gathering, a gentle rocking motion.
• At home: You might gently place your hands over your heart or hold them open in a gesture of offering as you hum.

Step 2: Voicing the Offering (15 seconds) Now, gently articulate the words, either whispered or sung softly with the Contemplative Niggun: "וְאִשֵּׁי יִשְׂרָאֵל וּתְפִלָּתָם" V'ishei Yisrael u'tefilatam ("And the fire-offerings of Israel and their prayer...") As you say these words, consciously present your gathered emotion or experience. Feel the vulnerability, the honesty, and the courage in this act. Imagine it rising, like the ancient smoke, transforming from a raw feeling into a sacred offering. Allow the minor-key resonance to hold any lingering ache or effort in the offering.

Step 3: Receiving Acceptance (15 seconds) Shift your internal melody to the Expansive Chant for "Tikabel b'ratzon." As the melody broadens and ascends, articulate the words with a sense of hope and openness: "תְּקַבֵּל בְּרָצוֹן" Tikabel b'ratzon ("...may You accept with favor.") Imagine this acceptance flowing towards you, a wave of warmth, understanding, and love. Visualize Michael, the great angel, taking your offering and presenting it, ensuring its favorable reception. Feel the relief, the peace, and the profound affirmation of being seen, heard, and welcomed by the Divine. Let the open, affirming notes of the chant fill you with a sense of divine embrace.

Step 4: Integration & Release (10 seconds) Take one more deep breath, allowing the feeling of acceptance to settle within you. Gently release any lingering tension or expectation. You have offered, and you have been received. You can carry this feeling of being held and affirmed into your next moments. Open your eyes, or bring your awareness back to your surroundings, knowing that this sacred connection is always available.

• Optional extension: If you have more time, you can repeat steps 1-3 several times, focusing on different emotions or aspects of your life. The beauty of this practice is its flexibility.

This ritual allows you to not only recite a prayer but to deeply experience its meaning, transforming a legal instruction into a living, breathing act of spiritual connection and emotional regulation.

Takeaway

Today, we've explored the profound truth embedded in the simple mandate to say R'tzei: that our prayers are our offerings, and our very souls are worthy of divine acceptance. We've learned that true emotional regulation isn't about suppressing what we feel, but about bringing our whole, authentic selves – our joys, our sorrows, our longings, our challenges – and presenting them as "fire-offerings" to the Divine. Through the imagery of angelic intercession and the promise of acceptance "with favor," we find comfort and validation, realizing we are always seen, always heard, and always held. Music, with its capacity to carry both the vulnerability of our offering and the expansive hope of divine embrace, becomes a bridge in this sacred dialogue. May you carry this understanding into your days, knowing that every breath, every feeling, can be transformed into a prayer, an offering, lovingly received.