>>>>>>>>>>>
The
Birth of Community
The
Angel said to her, "Do not be afraid, Mary, for
you have found favour with God. And behold you will
conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall
call his name Jesus" (Luke 1:30)
The
purpose of our studies is not merely to impart information
but to bring Christ to birth in our world. The test
of our studies is not so much whether they make us well
informed, but whether they make us fertile. Every new
born child is a surprise, even to its parents. They
cannot know beforehand whom they are bringing into the
world. So too our study should prepare us to be surprised.
Christ comes among us in every generation in ways that
we could never have anticipated and may only slowly
recognise as authentic, as it took time for the Church
to accept the new shocking theology of St Thomas. In
the mountains of Guatemala, in our centre of reflection
on inculturation AK'KUTAN in Coban, the brothers and
sisters seek to help the Order to be born with the richness
of the indigenous culture. In Takamori, behind Mount
Fuji, our brother Oshida seeks to bring Christ to birth
in the world of Japan, or there is our brother Michael
Shines in New Zealand, who has for twenty years been
struggling to meld the fertile seeds of Maori spirituality
with Christian faith. This may happen in all sorts of
ways that are not academic. In Croatia one of our brothers
heads a rock band called the 'Messengers of Hope. "
In Japan I have seen the wonderful paintings of our
brothers Petit and Carpentier. Or it may be in the miraculous
birth of community in a village in Haiti. How can our
preaching bring Christ to birth among the drug addicts
of New York or the slums of London? How can the Word
become flesh in the words of today, take body in the
languages of philosophy and psychology, through our
prayer and study? It is for this incarnation of the
Word of God in every culture, that the establishment
of houses of study, of theological excellence, in every
continent, must be a priority of the Order.
I
wish to argue that a life of study builds community,
and so prepares a home for Christ to dwell among us.
There is no more cruel experience of despair than that
of utter solitude, the human person introverted upon
his or her self. If our society is tempted so often
by despair, then maybe it is because this is the dominant
image of the human being in our world, the solitary
individual in pursuit of his or her own desires and
private good. The radical individualism of our time
seems like a liberation but it can plunge us into a
lonely hopelessness. The community offers us an "ecology
of hope". (15) It is only together that we may
dare to hope for a renewed world.
The
scholar may seem to be the perfect example of the solitary
figure, alone with his or her books or computer screen,
and with a sign saying "Do not disturb" on
the door. It is true that study will demand of us often
that we be alone and struggle with abstract questions.
But this is a service that we offer our brothers and
sisters. The fruit of this solitary labour is to build
community by opening up the mysteries of the Word of
God. We learn through study to belong to each other
and so to hope.
a)
The transformation of mind and heart
Even
the very image of the self as utterly alone, an isolated
individual, is challenged. For the doctrine of creation
shows us that our Creator is more intimately close to
us than any being could be, since He is the ever present
source of our being. We cannot be alone, because alone
we could not even be!
In
Western culture there is an obsession with self knowledge.
But how can I know myself apart from the one who sustains
me in being? St Catherine was deeply modern in inviting
her brethren to enter into the "cell of self knowledge
", but that self knowledge was inseparable from
a knowledge of God. "We can see neither our own
dignity nor the defects which spoil the beauty of our
soul, unless we look at ourselves in the peaceful sea
of God's being in which we are imaged. " (16) Even
the moments of utter desolation, of the dark night of
the soul, when we seem to be utterly deserted, can be
transfigured into moments of meeting: "The night
that joins the beloved with her loved one, the night
transfiguring the beloved in her loved one 's life.
" (17)
Study
can never be just the training of the mind; it is the
transformation of the human heart. "A new heart
I will give you, and a new spirit I will put within
you; and I will take out of your flesh the heart of
stone and give you a heart of flesh" [Ez 36:26]
The first General Chapter of the Order at Bologna said
that novices are to be taught "how they should
be intent on study, so that by day and by night, at
home or on a journey, they should be reading or reflecting
on something; whatever they can, they should try to
commit to memory. " (18) All
the time we are letting our hearts be formed, reading
newspapers and novels, watching films and the television.
All that we read and see is forming our heart. Do we
give it good things to nourish it? Are we moulding it
with violence and triviality, giving ourselves a heart
of stone?
St
Catherine of Siena says of Thomas that "With his
mind's eye he contemplated my Truth ever so tenderly
and there gained light beyond the natural. " (19)
Study then teaches us tenderness and even Thomas was
a great theologian because he was soft hearted. fr Yves
Congar once wrote that his growing illness and paralysis
meant that he became increasingly dependent on his brothers.
He could do nothing at all without their help. He said
"I have understood above all, since I became ill
and in constant need of my brothers' services ... that
whatever we can preach and say, however sublime it may
be, is worthless if not accompanied by praxis, by real,
concrete action, of service, and of love. I think that
I have been lacking a little of that in my life, I have
been a bit too intellectual. " (20)
When
Savanarola talks about St Dominic's understanding of
the scriptures, he says that it was founded on carità,
charity. Since it was the love of God which inspired
the Scriptures, it is only the loving person who can
understand them: "And you, brothers, who wish to
understand the scriptures, and who wish to preach: learn
charity and she will teach you. Having charity you will
understand her. (21)
Study
transforms the human heart through its discipline. It
is "a form of asceticism by its own perseverance
and difficulty" [LCO 83] that belongs to our growth
in holiness. It offers us the hard discipline of remaining
in our rooms in silence, struggling to understand when
we long to escape. One of the innovations of the Order
was in offering those especially given to study the
solitude of an individual cell, but it is a solitude
that can be an asceticism. When we are alone, struggling
with a text, then we will think of a thousand valid
reasons why we should stop and go and see someone to
talk. We will quickly convince ourselves that we have
a duty to do so, and that to continue studying would
be a betrayal of our vocation and of Christian duty!
Yet unless we endure this solitude and silence, we will
have nothing of value to give. In the "Letter to
Brother John", we are told "Love your cell
by making constant use of it, if you want to be admitted
into the wine cellar", (22) evidently the thirteenth
century novice's idea of paradise! Much study is indeed
and inevitably boring. Learning to read Hebrew or Greek
is hard and tedious work. Often we will wonder whether
it is worthwhile. It is precisely an act of hope, that
this labour will bear fruit in ways that we cannot now
imagine.
b)
Study and the Building of Community in the Order
Study
not only should open our hearts to the other but introduce
us into a community. To study is to enter into a conversation,
with one's brothers and sisters and with other human
beings in our search for the truth that will set us
free. Albert the Great wrote of the pleasure of seeking
the truth together: "in dulcedine societatis quaerere
veritatem. " (23)
Scholars
often reflect the values of our society. Much of academic
life is based upon production and competition, as if
we were making cars and not seeking wisdom. Universites
can be like factories. Articles must pour off the production
line, and rivals and enemies must be wiped out. Yet
we can never say an illuminating word about God unless
we do theology differently, uncompetitively and with
reverence. One cannot do theology alone. Not only because
no one today would be able to master all the disciplines
but because understanding the Word of God is inseparable
from building community. Much of the preparation for
the Second Vatican Council was done by a community of
brothers in Le Saulchoir, especially of Congar, Chenu
and Ferret, working together and sharing their insight.
There
is a story that while eating with the King of France,
Thomas is supposed to have thumped the table and shouted,
"That's settled the Manicheesi" This may suggest
that he was not paying much attention to the other guests,
but it also shows that theology can be a struggle. We
can never build community unless we
dare to argue with each other. I must stress, as so
often, the importance of debate, argument, the struggle
to understand. But one struggles with one's opponent,
like Jacob wrestling with the angel, so as to demand
blessing. One argues with an opponent, because you wish
to receive what he or she can give you. One wrestles
so that the truth can win. We have to argue out of a
sort of humility. The other person always has something
to teach us and we fight with them so as to receive
a gift.
One
of my most powerful memories of my year in Paris was
of fr Marie Dominique Chenu, the master who was always
eager to learn from every one he met, even a ignorant
English Dominican! Often, late in the evening, he would
return from some meeting with bishops, students, trades
unionists, artists, happy to tell you of what he had
learnt and to ask what you had learnt that day. The
true teacher is always humble. Jordan of Saxony said
that Dominic understood everything, "humili cordis
intelligencia" (24) , through the humble intelligence
of his heart. The heart of flesh is humble, but the
heart of stone is impenetrable.
Theology
is not just what is done in centres of study. It is
the moment of illumination, of new insight, when the
Word of God meets our ordinary daily experience of trying
to be human, of sin and failure, of trying to build
human community and make a just world. All the world
of scholarship, of biblical experts, patristic scholars,
philosophers and psychologists, are there to help that
conversation be fertile and truthful. Good theology
happens when, for example, the scripture scholar helps
the brother working in pastoral work to understand his
experience, and when the brother with pastoral experience
helps the scholar to understand the Word of God. The
recovery of our theological tradition demands not only
that we train more brothers in the various disciplines
but that we do theology together. Unless we can build
our Provinces as theological communities then our studies
may become sterile and our pastoral work superficial.
Much of Thomas' work was answering the questions of
the brethren, even rather foolish questions from the
Master of the Order ! (25)
Where
do we do theology? We need the great theological faculties
and the libraries. But we also need centres where theology
is done in other contexts, with those who struggle for
justice, in dialogue with other religions, in poor slums
and hospitals. Especially at this moment in the life
of the Church, true study involves the building of community
between women and men. A theology which grows solely
out of male experience would limp on one leg, breathe
with one lung. That is why today we need to do theology
with the Dominican Family, listening to each other's
insights, making a theology which is truly human As
God says to St Catherine of Siena "I could well
have made human beings in such a way that they all had
everything, but I preferred to give different gifts
to different people, so that they would all need each
other. " (26)
All
human communities are vulnerable, liable to dissolve,
needing constant reinforcement and repair. One of the
ways in which we make and remake community together
is through the words that we speak to each other. As
servants of the Word of God, we should be deeply aware
of the power of our words, a power to heal or to hurt,
to build or to destroy. God spoke a word, and the world
came to be, and now God speaks the Word that is His
Son, and we are redeemed. Our words share in that power.
At the heart of all our education and study must be
a deep reverence for language, a sensitivity to the
words that we offer to our brothers and sisters. With
our words we can offer resurrection or crucifixion,
and the words that we speak are often remembered, kept
in our brothers' hearts, to be reflected upon, returned
to, for good or ill, for years. A word may kill.
Our
study should educate us in responsibility, responsibility
for the words that we use. Responsibility in the sense
that what we say responds to the truth, corresponds
to reality. But also we have the responsibility of saying
words that build community, that nurture others, that
heal wounds, and offer life. St Paul, in prison, wrote
to the Philippians, "Finally brethren, whatever
is true, whatever is honourable, whatever is just, whatever
is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is gracious, if
there is any excellence, there is anything worthy of
praise, think about these things. "[4:8]
c)
Study and the Building of a Just World
Our
world has seen the triumph of a single economic system.
It has become hard to imagine an alternative. The temptation
of our generation may be to resign ourselves to the
sufferings of this time and to cease to hunger for a
world made new. But we preachers must be the guardians
of hope. We have been promised the freedom of the children
of God, and God will be true to that Word. In San Sisto
there is a picture of St Dominic studying, with a dog
at his feet holding a candle. In the background another
Dominican chases a dog with a stick. The inscription
tells us that Dominic did not oppose the devil with
violence but with study! Our study prepares us to speak
a liberating word. It does this through teaching us
compassion, showing us that God is present even in the
midst of suffering and it is there that we must forge
our theology. It offers us an intellectual discipline
that opens our ears to hear God summoning us into freedom.
Felicissimo
Martinez OP once described Dominican spirituality as
'open eyed'. And in the General Chapter of Caleruega,
Chris McVey commented, "Dominic was moved to tears
and to action by the starving in Palencia, by the innkeeper
in Toulouse, by the plight of some women in Fanjeaux.
But that is not enough to explain his tears. They flowed
from the discipline of an open eyed spirituality that
did not miss a thing Truth is the motto of the Order
not its defence (as often understood), rather its perception.
And keeping one's eyes open so as not to miss a thing,
that can make the eyes smart. " Our study should
be a discipline of truthfulness that opens the eyes.
As St Paul says, "Look at the evidence of your
eyes. " [2 Cor 10:7]
It
is painful to see what lies before us. It is easier
to have a heart of stone. Often enough I have been to
places which I have longed to forget, hospital wards
of young people in Rwanda with their limbs amputated,
the beggars on the streets of Calcutta. How can one
bear to see so much misery? Yet we must obey Paul's
command to look at the evidence of our eyes and to see
a tortured world. The books which we read must prise
open our hearts. Franz Kaflca wrote "I think that
we ought to read only the kind of books that wound and
stab us ... we need the books that effect us like a
disaster, that grieve us deeply, like the death of someone
whom we love more than ourselves, like being banished
into forests far from everyone, like a suicide. A book
must be the axe for the frozen sea within us. "
(27)
Yet
it is not enough just to see these places of human suffering,
and to be the tourists of the world's crucifixion. These
are places in which theology is to be done. It is in
these places of Calvary that God may be met and a new
word of hope discovered. Think of how much of the greatest
theology has been written in prison, from the letter
of St Paul to the Philippians, the poems of St John
of the Cross, to the letters of Dietrich Bonhoeffer
in a Nazi concentration camp. We are, said St John of
the Cross, like dolphins who plunge into the dark blackness
of the sea to emerge into the brilliance of the light.
A refugee camp in Goma or a bed in a cancer ward; these
are places where a theology that brings hope may be
discovered.
It
is not only in situations of extreme anguish that God
may be encountered. Vincent de Couesnongle (28) wrote
"There can be no hope without fresh air, or oxygen
or a new vision. There can be no hope in a stuffy atmosphere.
" (29) Ours has been from the beginning a theology
of the city and the market place. St Dominic sent his
brothers to the cities, the places of new ideas, of
new experiments with economic organisation and democracy,
but also where the new poor gathered. Do we dare to
let ourselves be disturbed by the questions of the modern
city? What is the word of hope that may be shared with
young people who face unemployment for the rest of their
lives? How may God be discovered in the suffering of
an unmarried mother or a frightened immigrant? These
too are places of theological reflection. What have
we to say to a world become sterile with pollution?
Will we let ourselves be interrogated by the questions
of the young and enter the minefields of moral issues
such as sexual ethics, or do we prefer to be safe?
So
then, we must dare to see what is before our eyes; we
must believe that it is where God seems most distant
and where human beings are tempted by despair that theology
may be done. Yet surely, as Dominicans, we must assert
a third requirement. Our words of hope will only have
authority if they are rooted in a serious study of the
Word of God and an analysis of our contemporary society.
In 1511 Montesino preached his famous sermon against
the oppression of the Indians and asked the question,
"Are they not human beings? have they not rational
souls? Are you not obliged to love them as you love
yourselves? Do you not understand this? Do you not grasp
this?" Montesino was inviting his contemporaries
to open their eyes, and see the world differently. For
clarity, compassion is not enough. Hard study was needed
to see through the false mythologies of the conquistadores
and it was the source of Las Casas' prophetic stand.
Chenu
commented, "It is extremely suggestive to draw
attention to the encounter between the speculative doctrine
of this first great master of international law (at
this moment when nations were being born outside the
pale of the Holy Roman Empire) and the evangelism of
Las Casas. The theologian, in Vittoria, envelopes the
prophet. " (30) It is not enough to be indignant
at the injustices of this world. Our words will only
have authority if they are rooted in serious economic
and political analysis of the causes of injustice. St
Antoninus grappled with the problems of a new economic
order in Renaissance Florence, as in this century Lebret
analysed the problems of the new economics. If we are
to resist the temptation of easy clichés, then
we need some brothers and sisters who are trained in
scientific, social, political and economic analysis.
The
building of a just society does not demand just the
equitable distribution of wealth. We need to build a
society in which we may all flourish as human beings.
Our world is being reduced to a cultural desert through
the triumph of consumerism. The cultural poverty of
this dominant perception of the human person is ravaging
the whole world, and "the people perish for the
lack of a vision. " [Prov 29:18] (31) There is
a hunger not just for food but for meaning. As the Chapter
of Oakland said, "To speak truthfully is an act
of justice" [ 109]. St Basil the Great says that
if we have extra clothes they belong to the poor. One
of the treasures that we possess and which our centres
of study should preserve and share are the poetry, the
stories of our people, the music, and traditional wisdom.
All this is a wealth for the building of a human world.
Being
a prophet is no excuse for not studying the scriptures.
We ponder the Word of God, seeking to know His will
rather than to discover evidence that God is on our
side. It is easy to use the scriptures as a source book
for easy slogans, but the study of God's Word is the
pursuit of a deeper liberation than we could ever imagine.
Through the discipline of study we seek to catch the
echo of a voice that summons us to an ineffable freedom,
God's own liberty. When Lagrange faced the problems
raised by modern historical criticism he quoted the
words of St Jerome, "Sciens etprudens, manum
misi in ignem" 32 (Knowingly and prudently,
1 put my hand in the fire). Knowing that it might cost
him pain and suffering, he plunged his hand into the
fire. Lagrange's commitment to the new intellectual
disciplines of his time was a real token of trust that
the Word of God would surely show itself to be a truly
liberating word, and that we need not fear to pass by
the way of doubt and questioning. He submitted the Word
of God to rigorous analysis because he trusted that
it would show itself to be a word that could never be
mastered. Do we dare to share his courage? Do we dare
plunge our hands in the fire, or do we prefer not to
be disturbed?
The
Gift of a Future
"He
will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most
High; and the Lord God will give to him the throne of
his father David, and he will reign over the house of
Jacob for ever; and of his Kingdom there will be no
end "And Mary said to the angel, "How can
this be, since I have no husband?" (Luke l: 32
34)
How
can this be? How can a virgin give birth to a child?
How can a woman of this small and unimportant colony
of the Roman Empire give birth to the Saviour of the
world? Who could have guessed that the history of this
people had the seed of such a future? Two thousand years
ago it seemed that David's line had failed, but unexpectedly
he was given a son to sit upon his throne.
Much
of our studies are studies of the past. We study the
story of the people of Israel, the evolution of the
bible, the history of the Church, of the Order, and
even of philosophy. We learn about the past. Central
to study is the acquisition of a memory. Yet this is
not so that we may know many facts. We study the past
so as to discover the seeds of an unimaginable future.
Just as a virgin or a barren woman becomes pregnant
with a child, so our apparently barren world is discovered
to be pregnant with possibilities that we had never
dreamt of, the Kingdom of God.
"History
does more than any other discipline to free the mind
from the tyranny of present opinion." (33) History
shows us that things need not be as they are, and that
history may open us out to an unexpected future. We
discover, in the words of Congar, that there is not
only the Tradition, but a multitude of traditions which
open up riches of which we had never dreamt. The Second
Vatican Council was a moment of new beginning because
it was a retelling of the past. We were brought back
before the divisions of the Reformation, back before
the Middle Ages, to rediscover a sense of the Church
prior to the divisions of east and west. It was a memory
that set us free for new things.
History
introduces us to a wider community than those who just
happen to be alive today. We find that we are members
of the community of saints and the community of our
ancestors. They too have a right to a voice in our deliberations.
We test our insights against their witness, and they
invite us to a larger vision than we could find in the
small confines of our own time.
The
retelling of history liberates us not just from present
opinion but from the "the rulers of this age. "
[ 1 Cor 2:8] History is normally told from the point
of view of the victor, of the strong, of those who build
empires, and the history that they tell confirms them
in their power. We must learn to tell history from another
point of view, from the side of the small and forgotten,
and that is a story that sets us free. This is why to
remember is a religious act, the primordial religious
act of the Jewish and Christian traditions. When we
gather to pray to God, we "remember the wonderful
works that He has done. " [Psalm 105:5]
Ultimately
we are brought back to the memory of a small and apparently
insignificant people, the people of Israel. We tell
the story from the point of view not of the great Empires,
of the Egyptians or the Assyrians, the Persians, the
Greeks or the Romans, but of a tiny people whose history
was barely registered in the books of the great and
the powerful, yet whose history was pregnant with the
birth of the Son of the Most High. And the history in
which we discover ourselves is finally that of a virgin
who hears the message of the angel and of a man who
was nailed up on a cross in a sea of crosses, a man
whose story was that of failure. This is the story that
we remember in every Eucharist. In this story we learn
how to tell the history of humanity and it is a history
that does not end on the cross.
Do
we dare to tell the history of the Church and even of
the Order with such courage? Do we dare to tell a history
of the Church which is freed from all triumphalism and
arrogance, and which recognises the moments of division
and sin? Surely the good news, the ground of our hope,
is that God has accepted precisely such fallible, quarrelling
people as His people. So often when we learn about Dominican
history we are told of the glories of the past. Do we
dare to tell of the failures, of the conflicts? The
previous archivist of the Order, Emilio Panella OP,
wrote a study (32) of what the chronicles do not say,
what they omitted. Such a story finally gives us more
hope and confidence since it shows that God always works
with "earthen vessels to show that the transcendent
power belongs to God and not to us. " [2 Cor 4:7]
He may even achieve something through us. At the General
Character of Mexico, we dared to remember the fifth
centenary of our arrival in the Americas. We remembered
not only the great deeds of our brothers, of Las Casas
and Montesino, but also the silences and failures of
others. But they are all our brothers. Above all we
remembered those who were reduced to silence or extinction.
We remembered so as to hope for a more just world.
There
are memories which are hard to bear, of Dachau and Auschwitz,
of Hiroshima and the bombing of Dresden. There are acts
so terrible that we would rather forget. What history
could be told that could bear all that suffering? And
yet at Auschwitz the monument to the dead says, "O
earth, cover not their blood. " Maybe we can only
dare to remember and to tell of the past truthfully,
if we remember the one who embraced his death, who gave
himself to his betrayers, who made of his passion a
gift and communion. In that memory we dare to hope.
We can know that "history does not ultimately lie
in the hands of the slaughterer. The dead can be named;
the past must be known. In that naming and knowing,
God is to be met, and in God lies the possibility for
us of a different world, a different apprehension of
power, a voice for the dumb. " (33) "For the
poor shall not always be forgotten: the patient abiding
of the meek shall not perish for ever. " [Psalm
9:18]
St
Dominic walked through the countryside singing, not
just because he was courageous, and not just because
he had a cheerful temperament. Years of study had given
him a heart formed to hope. Let us study so as to share
his joy.
"History
says, Don 't hope
on this side of the grave.
But then, once in a lifetime
The longed for tidal wave
Of justice can rise up,
And hope and history rhyme.
So
hope for a great sea change
On the far side of revenge.
Believe that a further shore
Is reachable from here." (34) 
End
Notes:
l
Cecilia Miracula B Dominici IS Archivium Fratrum Praedicatorum
XXXVII Rome 1967 p 5 ff
2 Process of Canonisation No 29
3 Simone Weil, Attente de Dieu, Paris 1950 p 71
4 B. Montagnes Le Père Lagrange, Paris 1995 p
57
5 Tomas of Chantrimpé
6 Cornelius Ernst OP Multiple Echo ed Fergus Kerr OP
and Timothy Radcliffe OP London 1979 p 1
7 Dante Inferno Canto 1, 40
8 Simone Weil op cit p 71
9 Metaph III lec 3
10 Bernard Montagnes Le Père Lagrange Paris 1995
p 54
11 ST 1A Q. 12, a. 8, AD 1. See the Acts of Caleruega
Chapter, 32. This text provoked one of the most passionate
debates of the
Chapter. It was good to see the brothers arguing over
theology!
12 Confessions III, 6
13 God Matters London 1987 p 241
14.
Reflections on the Beatitudes London 1979 p 100
15 Jonathan Sachs, Faith in the Future, London 1995,
p 5
16 Letter 226, Catherine of Siena, Passion for Truth,
Compassion for Humanity, ed Mary O'Driscoll
OP, New York 1993, p 26
17 St John of the Cross, Canciones de Alma 5
18 Primitive Constitutions 1 13
19 Mary O'Driscoll OP, ibid p 127
20 Allocution de fr. Congar, en remerciement à
la Remise du prix de l'Unité chrétienne,
24 Novembre
1984
21 "Dalle Prediche di fra' Gerolamo Savanarola",
Ed L Ferretti, in Memorie Dominicane XXVII 1910
22 De Modo Studendi
23 In Libr viii Politicorum
24 Libellus 7
25See James A. Weisheipl, Albertus Magnus and the Sciences:
Commemorative Essays 1980, pp. 41-42
26 Dialogue 7
27 Letter to Oskar Pollak, 27 January 1904.
28.
Master of the Order 1974-1983; died July 1992.
29 Le Courage du Futur ch 8
30 M D Chenu "Prophètes et Théologiens
dons l'Eglise, Parole de Dieu" in La Parole de
Dieu II, Paris
1964 p 211
31 cf the Jamaican National Anthem
32 BernardMontagnes op. cit., p. 84.
33 Owen Chadwick Origins 1985 p 85
34"Quelle che la Cronica Conventuale non dice"
Memorie Dominicane 18, 198,7 227-235
35 Rowan Williams, Open Judgement London 1994, p 242
36 Seamus Heaney, The Cure at Troy: version of Sophocleses'
'Philocpetes', London 1990.
