In the midst of a procession of well-known stories is an image marking what's been forgotten. That's most of history, isn't it?
Those who heard the disciples preach on Pentecost comprehended the message in their own language. But that was only the beginning.
At the least-visited museum in Rome, a marble cross caught my attention. It depicts the Madonna and Child and the warm tangle of their intimacy.
Learning a language requires us to focus our attention on something outside ourselves. It's a lot like learning to pray.
My Italian is rusty. When I go to church in Rome and try to follow along, I'm reminded of Woolf's "incessant shower of innumerable atoms."