Body of Work: Remembering Daniel Berrigan, 1921-2016
…klit by fast-dimming snowlight. He scanned the Stations of the Cross. He paused, delayed. A tight suspenseful silence ensued. I thought I saw some anguishing in his deliberation. Maybe he wanted to say one thing, but, feeling constrained, had to say another. Maybe I read too much into it. “Just because you can’t do everything,” he said, “doesn’t mean you have to do nothing.” One-part koan, one-part Jesuit equivocation? Berrigan was a poet. You had…
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