Before his conversion to Christianity, St. Augustine ignored the Holy Scriptures. As a philosopher, he dismissed the Bible as crude and unsophisticated. Then one day an unseen child’s voice urged him to “Take up and read, take up and read.” A Bible was nearby. He read it, his heart was set on fire, and soon thereafter he became a Catholic.
Sometimes we ignore the Scriptures as St. Augustine once did. Maybe we think it’s too hard to understand- like the Ethiopian in today’s reading from Acts. (Thankfully, he asked for help!) Or perhaps we dismiss the Scriptures as too out of date to really address our contemporary needs.
Today’s gospel reading, however, reminds us that God himself speaks to us through the Bible When speaking of the bread of life, Jesus was referring not just to the Eucharist. He was speaking also of his gift of the Word- his personal revelation of God that nourishes and sustains us on our journey of faith. We encounter this Word in Sacred Scripture- God’s Word in human words- written in the past, but with the power to change our lives today.
Catholic psychologist Robert Wicks explains that although the Scriptures are ancient, they speak of an eternal wisdom, radiating from a God who is ageless, and ever new. When we ignore Scripture, he says, our faith becomes rootless, God becomes vague, and we’ll feel lost in times of crisis. Or as St. Jerome said so bluntly: “Ignorance of the Scriptures, is ignorance of Christ.”
One of the great spiritual battles and journeys is to get beyond, and outside our self. St. Augustine described one of the chief effects of sin was that man was curvatus in se (turned in on himself, i.e. turned inward). Forgetful of God we loose our way. Called to look outward and upward, to behold the Lord and his glory, instead we focus inward and downward, on things that are passing, noisy, troubling, and far less noble. No longer seeing our Father’s face and experiencing joyful confidence, we cower with fear, foolishly thinking things depend on us. Yes, we are turned inward, and I would add, downward. Scripture bids us, If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. (Col 3:1)
One of the graces of deeper prayer, if we persevere through the years, is that the Lord to turn us upward and outward. And, gradually our prayer turns more toward God and is less anxious about our own aches and pains. For now, it is enough to give them to God and trust his providence. Gradually, we simply prefer to experience the Lord quietly, in increasingly wordless contemplation. God draws us to a kind of silence in prayer as we advance along its ways. But that silence is more than an absence of sound, but instead results from us being turned more toward God. An old monastic tale from, I know not where, says:
Sometimes there would be a rush of noisy visitors and the silence of the monastery would be shattered. This would upset the disciples; but not the Abbot, who seemed just as content with the noise as with the silence. To his protesting disciples he said one day, “Silence is not the absence of sound, but the absence of self.”
Yes, as prayer deepens and becomes more contemplative the human person is turned more to God and a kind of holy silence becomes private prayer’s more common pattern. This does not mean nothing is happening, the soul has communion with God, but it is deeper than words or images. It is heart speaking to heart (cor ad cor loquitur). This is a deep communion with God that results from our being turned outward again to God. And the gift of silence comes from resting in God, from being less focused on ourselves, more and more on God: Let all mortal flesh keep silence, and with (holy) fear and trembling stand, ponder nothing earthly minded….. Yes, there is a time for intercessory prayer, but not now. Don’t just do something, stand there. Don’t rush to express, rest to experience. Be still, know that He is God. An old spiritual says, Hush….Somebody’s callin’ my name. Yes, pray for and desire holy silence, praying beyond words and images. Here are the beginnings of contemplative prayer.
Another gift that is given to those who are experiencing deeper prayer is a sense of spaciousness and openness. As the soul is less turned inward and increasingly turned outward, it makes sense that one would experience a kind of spaciousness. Those who have attained to deeper prayer often speak of this. Scripture does as well. Consider some of the following passages:
For the Lord has brought me out to a wide-open place. He rescued me because he was pleased with me. (Ps 18:19)
I called on the LORD in distress: the LORD answered me, and set me in a large place. (Ps 118:5)
The Lord brought me out into a spacious place; he rescued me because he delighted in me. (2 Sam 22:20)
You have not handed me over to the enemy but have set my feet in a spacious place. (Psalm 31:8)
Hear me when I call, O God of my righteousness: you have enlarged me when I was in distress; have mercy on me, and hear my prayer (Ps 4:1)
And I shall walk in a wide place, for I have sought your precepts. (Psalm 119:45)
And he moved from there and dug another well, and they did not quarrel over it. So he called its name Rehoboth (which means latitude or width), saying, “For now the LORD has made room for us, and we shall be fruitful in the land.” (Gen 26:22)
Yes, as we are turned outward and upward to God we soon enough experience the spaciousness, and latitude of knowing God. No longer pressed and confined by the experience of being turned inward (curvatus in se), the soul has room to breathe. Many people who begin to experience contemplative prayer, though not able to reduce the experience to words, express an experience of the the spaciousness of God. But this spaciousness is more than a physical sense of space. It is a sense of openness, of lightness, of freedom from burden and from being pressed down, it is an experience of relief. But again, all who experience it agree, words cannot really express it well.
St. Paul speaks of the unspeakable quality of deep prayer as well, though his experience likely goes beyond what we call contemplative prayer:
I know a man in Christ who fourteen years ago was caught up to the third heaven. Whether it was in the body or out of the body I do not know—God knows. And I know that this man—whether in the body or apart from the body I do not know, but God knows— was caught up to paradise. He heard inexpressible things, things that man is not permitted to tell. (2 Cor 12:2-4)
Yes, it is “un-sayable,” words fail. St. Augustine was said to remark of the Christian mysteries: If you don’t ask me I know. If you ask me, I don’t know.
But here too is a gift of deepening prayer to be sought: spaciousness, and that openness that comes from being turned outward and upward by God. An old Spiritual says, My God is so high, you can’t get over him, He’s so low, you can’t get under him, he so wide, you can’t get round him. You must come IN, by and through the Lamb.
Two gifts of the deeper prayer we call contemplative prayer, prayer which moves beyond words and images, beyond the self to God Himself.
“Grab life by the horns” is advice meant to encourage those who find life boring or routine to look for adventure and excitement. And that’s fine! Most everyone enjoys a little of that from time to time.
However, the pursuit of adventure and excitement can also distract us from dealing with life’s more important matters; it can side-track us from seeking to feed our deepest hungers. An exclusive diet of adventure and excitement will leave us always hungry for the next thrill, or the bigger rush. Over time, we’ll find ourselves discouraged, even bored (again)! We’ll be “hungry for more,” because we’ve been feeding ourselves with that which never truly satisfies. Thrills, at the end of the day, are mostly empty calories.
Only Jesus can satisfy life’s deepest hungers. “I am the bread of life,” he exclaimed in today’s gospel, “whoever comes to me will never hunger, and whoever believes in me will never thirst.” Jesus is talking, of course, about the gift he makes of himself in the Eucharist.
So- can we grab life by the horns? Sure…as long as we receive life from the Host.
The video below contains a fascinating interview between Sean Hannity and two women on the question of immodest dress as a dangerous thing for a woman. It would seem that a Toronto police officer was quoted as saying, “Women can avoid rape by not dressing as sluts.” He said this in the context of a lecture to college students about a recent campus crime wave. He has since apologized, but some will not accept it, or do not think he was specific enough in his apology. His remarks have touched off worldwide protests in Europe and also in Boston and New York by women who engage in what they call “Slut Walks.” In these, they dress provocatively and carry signs that denounce the blame the victim attitude of the police officer and others who explain rape by blaming the victim.
OK, so lets all admit that there is nothing that justifies the rape or assault of any woman. Further, the officer did not need to speak of women as “dressing like sluts.” It is possible to counsel caution without resorting to such terminology.
But the reaction has gone to the other extreme by insisting that there ought to be no thought women should give as to the way they dress, and the effect it may have on others. You will see in the interview how one of the women Mr. Hannity interviews gets more and more extreme as the interview progresses. She begins saying “Just because a woman dresses provocatively does not mean she welcomes an abuser.” OK, fair enough. And even if she is attacked, there is no justification for it. But that said, is there no legitimacy in advising women to refrain from provocative dressing? Men too, for that matter, though the physical dangers to them are far less. Further, is it legitimate to talk to women in our life about ways to reduce their risk without being called sexist, and told that we are blaming the victim?
A Central Problem – One of the women says, “In dressing provocatively a woman is saying, I am asking you to look at me as a sexual object, instead of a woman worthy of respect.” The other woman responds, “There is nothing wrong with looking like a sexual object.” And this pretty well spells out where many in our culture have gone. Intentionally provoking a purely sexual response not only tempts men, it also diminishes women by encouraging the notion that sex is the main thing.
There is surely a time to provoke and celebrate a sexual appeal and joy…, in the marriage bed. But outside this context, women ought to be seen more richly as wives, mothers, sisters, daughters, teachers, scientists, indeed, whole persons with interests, needs, concerns, and richly varied lives. That many women are advocating a hypersexualized notion of who they are by taking “slut walks” (the protestors’ term not mine) is a sad commentary. It is one thing to protest the “blame the victim” remark, but calling it a slut walk is to go further and advocate immodest dress and raw, unintegrated sexuality. That is not helpful to women and I suspect most women do not appreciate this sort of “advocacy,” or the extreme comments rendered by one of the women in this interview below.
Some younger women really don’t seem to know – That said, I have come to discover, through discussions with women on the issue of modesty that many (especially younger) women really don’t have any idea the effect that they have on men. I have confirmed this in discussion among our teenage Sunday school kids. In discussions moderated by women, many young girls just haven’t figured it all out yet. When asked, “Why do you dress that (provocative) way?” they often say, “I don’t know, it’s……like……y’know…..comfortable???…..It’s like…….cool??”
While some of them may be fibbing, and they really do know, I don’t doubt that, to some degree, there is an innocence about what they do that needs to be schooled. Some years ago I remember a remarkable little passage by John Eldridge, in the Book, Wild at Heart that decoded something I have noticed even in the youngest girls:
And finally, every woman wants to have a beauty to unveil. Not to conjure, but to unveil. Most women feel the pressure to be beautiful from very young, but that is not what I speak of. There is also a deep desire to simply and truly be the beauty, and be delighted in. Most little girls will remember playing dress up, or wedding day, or twirling skirts, those flowing dresses that were perfect for spinning around in. She’ll put her pretty dress on, come into the living room and twirl. What she longs for is to capture her daddy’s delight. My wife remembers standing on top of the coffee table as a girl of five or six, and singing her heart out. Do you see me? asks the heart of every girl. And are you captivated by what you see? (Kindle edition Loc 367-83)
Perhaps it is this innocence that has gone somehow wrong, has been untutored, and thus, causes some younger girls to dress immodestly. And many of them bring that into adulthood.
But even if their intentions are innocent, it is not wrong to teach them that not everyone views their display so innocently, and further than some are deeply troubled by the temptation it brings, especially as these girls get a bit older and more vivacious.
So where to go? From the Christian point of view modesty is reverence for mystery. Modesty accepts the norm that there are some things that are simply private and meant for the intimacy of marriage that are not to be disclosed in a general sort of way. Further, modesty respects the fact it is wrong to unnecessarily tempt others. And many do easily fall prey to sexual temptation. To simply disregard this and say, “Well that is their problem,” may well be to lack both charity and a realistic attitude.
That said, the word unnecessarily is important in the phrase, “it is wrong to unnecessarily tempt others.” For it is not always possible to protect others from all temptation, and we ought not impose unreasonable standards and expectations upon women. Some men are tempted just by a pretty face. That doesn’t mean we ought to expect women to hide their faces. It also pertains to women to have curves that appeal to men, and to expect them to never manifest any curves at all, also seems unreasonable.
Hence the word modesty comes from the word “mode” meaning “middle” or “mean.” So modesty involves observing a certain middle ground wherein we do not oppress women (or men for that matter) with severe standards and cumbersome cover-ups. But neither do we neglect to understand that some degree of charity and understanding is due to those who are possibly tempted by tight or revealing clothing and immodest postures or movements. It is wrong to tempt others when we can reasonably avoid doing so. But inhuman and unreasonable standards are also to be rejected.
The bottom line is that immodest and provocative dress is both imprudent and uncharitable. The officer involved used inappropriate language to convey his “advice.” But to advise women appropriately how to reduce their risk of rape does not ipso facto equate to blaming the victim. A little equanimity in the issue is helpful, though sadly rare, in our easily offended and strongly polarized culture.
I have written more on the questions of modesty here:
The Dawn of the Dead is a horror movie in which zombies shamble around, looking for human flesh to eat. In a bit of social satire, the film makers have the zombies gravitate toward those places where they’d found the most meaning in life. And where do the zombies end up? A shopping mall! The somber joke here is that many of us in our materialistic, consumerist society are like zombies, walking around half dead, because we seek satisfaction- seek life!- in things that ultimately fail to provide it. And so we end up hungry for that which can give meaning, and thirsting for real purpose and satisfaction.
Which brings us to today’s gospel. People hungry for truth and meaning came to Jesus, not exactly sure what they were looking for, and uncertain about what Jesus might be able to give them. To their surprise, Jesus offered them himself: “I am the bread of life,” he said. “Whoever comes to me will never hunger; whoever believes in me will never thirst.” By welcoming Jesus into their lives, and receiving him in the Eucharist they could really and truly live, and find the meaning, purpose, and direction that they sought after in the wilderness. And the same is true for us. “Sir,” prayed the crowds, “give us this bread always!” Let that be our cry, as well.
One of the oldest things I own is a book. It is a printed copy of Milton’s Paradise Lost from 1678. 333 years old! Older even than this country. It was printed only 11 years after Milton first published it. It’s still in good condition too. Printed in London in 1678 and somehow, by miracle, on my shelf in Washington DC after all these years. I often pick it up with reverence and read passages, wondering how many other eyes, eyes of men and women long gone, have passed over the very same text, it lighting up their mind as it does mine now. How many hands held it? On what shelves did it rest? Did George Washington or Ben Franklin ever hold it? Who is to say?
Ah yes, the book. A wonderful thing. Yet some are predicting the death of the book as we know it. Recently an article appeared on this topic at the Los Angeles Review of Books, by Ben Ehrenreich. Just a brief excerpt here:
Last I checked, Googling “death of the book” produced 11.8 million matches. The day before it was 11.6 million. It’s getting unseemly. Books were once such handsome things. Suddenly they seem clunky, heavy, almost fleshy in their gross materiality…..
Last summer Amazon announced that it was selling more e-books than the paper kind. The time to fret had passed. It was Kindle vs. kindling. MIT Media Lab co-founder Nicholas Negroponte—whose name is frequently preceded by the word “futurist”—declared that the demise of the paper book should be written in the present tense. ”It’s happening,” Negroponte said, and gave the pulpy artifacts just five years to utterly expire.
All of our words for book refer, at root, to forms no longer recognizable as such: biblos being the Greek word for the pith of the papyrus stalk (on which texts in the Greco-Roman world were inscribed); libri being Latin for the inner bark of a tree, just as the Old English bóc and Old Norse bók referred to the beech tree. Likewise “tome” is from a Greek word for a cutting (of papyrus) and “volume” is from the Latin for a rolled-up thing—a scroll, which is the form most texts took until they were replaced by folded parchment codices. … The printed, paper book, as we know it, dates only to the mid-fifteenth century, but those early Gutenberg exemplars were hardly something you’d curl up with on a rainy Sunday afternoon. The book as an affordable object of mass production—as something directly kin to the books that line our shelves—was not born until the 19th century, just in time for the early announcements of its death. [1]
But I refuse to accept the predicted death of the Book. I like my Kindle, and there are some things I prefer to read in that format. I can also travel lighter. But in the end it doesn’t beat the book for quick sequential access and beauty. I don’t care what they say, moving back and forth through a text quickly just isn’t that simple on an electronic reader. Lots of clunky keystrokes and guesswork is still required. True, one can search the text and copy and paste text with ease, but quickly flipping through an electronic book is not an easy thing.
Books are also in their special glory when it comes to combining art and illustrations with text. I just bought Dennis McNarama’s Catholic Church Architecture and the Spirit of the Liturgy and the splendidly illustrated and colorful book just doesn’t work on a Kindle or other portable reader. You just have to get the hard copy, it’s magnificent in the way it brings art and word together. Yes, the trusty book, and I love being able to dog-ear a page!
Yes, I think books will be with us for a while yet, but more an more they will need to do what books do best: present not only word, but picture, illustration, and quick access to the text.
So, I like books!
But, paradoxically, when it comes to books in the liturgy, I say, “Away with them!“ Clearly the clergy need the sacramentary and the lectors, the lectionary. Musicians too most often need some printed reference materials. But in the end, the faithful, if you ask me, should strive to worship without books, other than a hymnal. The liturgy is meant to be seen and heard. Some claim they cannot follow without the books and “worship-aids.” But I suspect the problem, then, is poorly presented liturgy, poorly trained lectors and clergy, if you will. The goal is to go “hands-free”and to allow the liturgy to unfold. Incessant references to texts and the “order of service” steal away some of the mystery, and cause us to look down at texts, rather than up and outward at the liturgy before us.
I once had a Protestant visitor who expressed concern that we did not announce chapter and verse when we proclaimed the Scripture. For her, the Bible was the physical book she carried. I explained that the Catholic tradition stretched back long before books were affordable and literacy was presupposed. In the Catholic Tradition the Word of God is what is proclaimed, more than what is printed. Even today, in many parts of the Catholic world, literacy is low. So the Church proclaims God’s Word, in the Liturgy, but also in the stone carvings, stained glass, music and the art of the Church. The Word is proclaimed and heard more than being thought of as a printed page. Yes, the liturgy is older than newsprint missalettes and widespread literacy.
Protestantism, on the the other hand emerged at the time just after the invention of the printing press and grew up with the rise of literacy in the West. The Bible, as a printed book, thus came to the fore and their liturgy turned more from a sacrifice to a kind of Bible Study. Chapter and verse (a Catholic invention, by the way) became more central when the Book is the main point. Now, I love Bible Study and the Protestant tradition has made quite an art of the preached word. This is commendable and worth imitating, but the often single focus on the printed book can short-change worship and certainly sacrifice.
Liturgically the Word is to be proclaimed, explicated and celebrated largely as a listening event. Then, the Word must become Flesh in the Eucharist. And as Christ, our Word, becomes flesh for us. And as we receive that flesh, He becomes one with us, and enables us to live his Word. All of this is so much more than a printed page or a physical book. The proclaimed Word is experienced and transforms us and we receive its power not only through the spoken Word but also the Sacrament of the Word made flesh.
I realize that, whenever I suggest going largely “book-less” in the Mass I often get push-back. I understand the controversy I create, and also the laments over poor acoustics, lectors and clergy. But what do you think of the goal? Books are wonderful things, but I wonder if the pew is the place for them? As we go to the new translation, some cards and printed material may need to make a brief reappearance. But in the end, a good listening ear, hearts open to obedience, and eyes in search of glory (rather than the right page) are the greatest “worship aids.”
How say you?
Here’s an old classic video on the invention of the book.
“The business of America is business,” said President Calvin Coolidge in the 1920’s. And I think we can appreciate what he meant. We Americans work hard, and we like to make money.
However, today’s gospel has a message for us. We heard of people who came to Jesus seeking food. They wanted to fulfill their legitimate material, physical needs. And Jesus wants to meet these needs. That’s why, just the day before, he had fed these same people with loaves and fishes. But then he urged them, on this day, to look beyond the physical and the material. They should work for the food that only he can give.
We Americans need to hear these words. Because sometimes in our preoccupation with work, “the business of business,” we forget about what Jesus really wants us to work for; in our focus upon the material, we neglect the spiritual. The challenge for us is not to become so immersed with putting bread on the table, that we deprive ourselves of the bread of life.
I am preparing some notes for a Retreat for Priests that I will be preaching this summer. And one of the Key texts I will be using is Paul’s farewell speech to the presbyters (priests) of the early Church. Here is a skilled bishop and pastor, exhorting others who have pastoral roles in the Church. Lets take a look at this text and apply its wisdom to Bishops and priests as well as to parents and other leaders in the Church.
Paul’s Farewell Sermon – The scene is Miletus, a town in Asia Minor on the coast not far from Ephesus. Paul, who is about to depart for Jerusalem summons the presbyters (priests) of the early Church at Ephesus. Paul has ministered there for three years, and now summons the priests for this final exhortation. In the sermon, St. Paul cites his own example of having been a zealous teacher of the faith who did not fail to preach the “whole counsel of God.” He did not merely preach what suited him or made him popular. He preached it all. To these early priests Paul leaves this legacy and would have them follow in his footsteps. Let’s look at excerpts from this final exhortation. First the text them some commentary:
From Miletus Paul had the presbyters of the Church at Ephesus summoned. When they came to him, he addressed them, “You know how I lived among you the whole time from the day I first came to the province of Asia. I served the Lord with all humility and with the tears and trials that came to me…., and I did not at all shrink from telling you what was for your benefit, or from teaching you in public or in your homes. I earnestly bore witness for both Jews and Greeks to repentance before God and to faith in our Lord Jesus…..But now, compelled by the Spirit, I am going to Jerusalem……“But now I know that none of you to whom I preached the kingdom during my travels will ever see my face again. And so I solemnly declare to you this day that I am not responsible for the blood of any of you, for I did not shrink from proclaiming to you the entire plan of God….. (Acts 20:1-38 selected)
Here then is the prescription for every Bishop, every priest and deacon, every catechist, parent and Catholic: that we should preach the whole counsel (the entire plan of God). It is too easy for us to emphasize only that which pleases us or makes sense to us or fits in our worldview. There are some who love the Lord’s sermons on love, but cannot abide his teachings on death, judgment, heaven and hell. Some love to discuss liturgy and ceremony, but the care of the poor is far from them. Others point to His compassion, but neglect his call to repentance. Some love the way he dispatches the Pharisees and other leaders of the day, but become suddenly deaf when the Lord warns against fornication or insists that we love our neighbor, enemy and spouse. Some love to focus inwardly and debate over doctrine, but the outward focus of true evangelization to which we are commanded (cf Mat 28:19) is neglected.
In the Church today, as a whole, we too easily divide out rather predictably along certain lines and emphases: Life issues here, social justice over there; strong moral preaching over here, compassionate inclusiveness over there. When one side speaks, the other side says, “There they go again!”
And yet somewhere we must be able to say with St. Paul that we did not shrink from proclaiming the whole counsel of God. While this is especially incumbent on the clergy, it must also be true for parents and all who attain to any leadership in the Church. All of the issues above are important and must have their proper place in the preaching and witness of every Catholic, clergy and lay. While we may have gifts to work in certain areas, we should learn to appreciate the whole counsel and the fact that others in the Church may be needed to balance and complete our work. It is true, we must exclude notions that stray from revealed doctrine, but within doctrine’s protective walls, it is necessary that we not shrink from proclaiming and appreciating the whole counsel of God.
And if we do this we will suffer. Paul speaks above of tears and trials. In preaching the whole counsel of God, (not just your favorite passages and politically correct and “safe” themes), expect to suffer. Expect to not quite fit in with people’s expectations. Jesus got into trouble with just about everyone. He didn’t just offend the elite and powerful. Even his own disciples puzzled over his teachings on divorce saying “If that is the case of man not being able to divorce his wife it is better never to marry!” (Matt 19). Regarding the Eucharist, many left him and would no longer walk in his company (John 6). In speaking of his divine origins many took up stones to stone him, but he passed through their midst (Jn 8). In addition he spoke of taking up crosses, forgiving your enemy and preferring nothing to him. He forbade even lustful thoughts, let alone fornication, and insisted we must learn to curb our unrighteous anger. Preaching the whole counsel of God is guaranteed to earn us the wrath of many.
As a priest I have sadly had to bid farewell to congregations, and this farewell speech of Paul is a critical passage whereby I examine my ministry. Did I preach even the difficult stuff? Was I willing to suffer for the truth? Did my people hear from me the whole counsel of God, or just the safe stuff?
How about you? Have you proclaimed the whole counsel of God? If you are clergy when you move on…..if you are a parent when your child leaves for college…..if you are a Catechist when the children are ready to be confirmed or have reached college age…..If you teach in RCIA and the time comes for sacraments……Can you say you preached it all? God warned Ezekiel that if he failed to warn the sinner, that sinner would surely die for his sins but that Ezekiel himself would be responsible for his death, (Ez 3:17 ff). Paul is able to say he is not responsible for the death (the blood) of any of them for he did not shrink from proclaiming the whole counsel of God. How about us?
The whole counsel of God; not just the safe stuff, the popular stuff, not just the stuff that agrees with my politics and those of my friends. The whole counsel, even the difficult stuff, the ridiculed things. The Whole Counsel of God.
This video contains the warning to the watchmen (us) in Ezekiel 3. Watch it if you dare.
Before his conversion to Christianity, St. Augustine ignored the Holy Scriptures. As a philosopher, he dismissed the Bible as crude and unsophisticated. Then one day an unseen child’s voice urged him to “Take up and read, take up and read.” A Bible was nearby. He read it, his heart was set on fire, and soon thereafter he became a Catholic.
