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Plot Synopsis:
Raging Bull (1980), directed by Martin Scorsese, is a black and white drama adaptation of Jake LaMotta’s memoir. Scorsese shows us how Jake’s ambition, selfishness, lust, and jealousy affected his journey to becoming the middleweight champion in the 1940s as well as his relationships with his second wife and with his brother. After a prologue scene of an older and fatter Jake reciting a speech before performing at a nightclub, the film opens with Jake taking his first loss to rival Sugar Ray Robinson. His relationship with his wife is shown to be sour and unstable. Jake is introduced to Vicky by his brother Joey, and they have an affair. He goes on a string of wins throughout the rest of the 1940s, marries Vicky, buys a house, and has children. As time goes on, Jake’s domineering and jealous nature only grows. When his wife makes an offhand comment about his next opponent (Janiro) being good-looking, Jake doubts his wife’s loyalties and viscously pummels Janiro in the ring. Joey makes a deal with the mafia, agrees to take a dive in a rigged fight, and finally gets a title shot after being reinstated. He ultimately beats the champion and claims the title for himself. At home, Jake’s suspicions are aroused when his wife gives Joey a quick kiss on the lips. He interrogates Joey to see if he or Salvy slept with Vicky, but Joey refuses to answer. Jake then confronts Vicky, who sarcastically (and falsely) confesses to having had sex with both men, as well as many others. Jake beats Vicky and Joey unconscious, and tries to make amends with his wife. His career takes a turn for the worse, he loses his title to Sugar Ray, and is estranged from his brother. Years later Jake retires and opens a nightclub. After a long, late night of drunkenness and promiscuity, Vicky tells Jake that she is filing for divorce and taking the kids. Jake is also arrested for letting underage girls in his club. After years in and out of jail, he ends up hosting tiny shows in cheap nightclubs. Jake sees his brother on the street and tries to reconcile, and Joey reluctantly accepts. The film ends with Jake talking to himself in the mirror, hyping himself up for a show. The film has scenes with superior and memorable performances and also fantastic visuals, dynamic sound design, and flashy cuts. The scene that I thought was the most important to the story is when Jake is thrown into prison after the divorce. Visual Breakdown: The scene opens with an establishing medium of Jake fighting two guards as they try to force him through a door in the prison hallways. The guards are wearing basic uniforms and cowboy hats, Lamotta is wearing jeans and a very dirty white T-shirt. A title card flashes on the screen stating: DADE COUNTY STOCKADE, Florida, 1957. All three men are grunting and shouting at each other. Most of the dialogue is scattered and somewhat indistinguishable. The first guard says “this is where it’s at, right here” as he starts to open the gate. We cut to a wide shot at the same angle, revealing more concrete walls. The second guard says “who’s the one who [indecipherable] goddamn shirt, boy?” Jake is still wriggling against the grip of the second guard. He bumps into the first guard, knocking his hat onto the floor. The first guard says “You pull your load here, boy!” and swings the gate open. “That’s right!” agrees the other. Jake tries to lift his feet off the floor and does everything in his power to impede their progress, but both guards persistently drag him through. One says “You ain’t the goddamn boxing champion!” “Fuck you, fuck you” mutters Jake. As the men walk past the camera, it pans with them to the right, revealing a cell door. “Son of a bitch! You hear me? You hear me?” yells a guard. The guard knees Jake in the butt. They pause outside the door. We cut to a medium shot of the three men outside the door. The first guard says “hold on to him!” as he shoves Jake towards the other one. “I got him!” confirms the other, pinning Jake’s arms behind his back. The first guard turns and opens the prison door, revealing darkness. Both guards struggle to shove Jake in. “See it, see it?” taunts a guard. “Look at it son, live in it! Go on boy, live in it!” We cut to a closeup from inside the cell looking at Jake’s head being shoved through the door. Most of the frame is black, a shaft of light illuminating Jake’s face “Do you understand that?” Jake turns to retort: “in your mother’s cunt!” The guards give a final shove, launching Jake in the cell. The camera pans around, keeping his face in the frame. Jake continues protesting over the guard’s taunts “Your mother’s-- You cocksucker!” The guard responds with one last “live in it!” before slamming the cell door, locking the heavy bolt. “How do you like that, you son of a bitch?” a guard yells. Jake looks around and sits on the cell’s cot. “Sick fuck!” yells a guard, who we then hear spit. Jake gets back up and walks to the door, moving out of the light. He leans out the small opening in the door and yells “Fuck you! (guard yelling) Fuck your mother!” Panting heavily, he walks back over to the cot. We cut to a medium wide, with the camera centered in the middle of the cell. Jake sits on the cot. He pants and looks at the walls. He gets up and walks to the wall on the far right, the camera panning with him. We cut to a medium at a similar angle. Jake places his hands on the wall, and leans on it. He pants and thinks for a few seconds. The camera zooms in closer, making it a medium closeup. Jake slams his head against the wall six times, muttering “dummy” with each hit. He then starts punching the wall. Instead of dummy, he mutters “Why?” with each hit. The camera slowly zooms back out. As it goes on, the whys get faster, louder. He starts using his head again and screaming until the words become incoherent screaming. He punches again. He uses his forearms to beat the walls. “AAAAAH, you motherfuck—AAAAAAAH!” he runs out of energy and starts sobbing. He tries to punch again, but winces and grabs his wrist. “Ow! Aah, my hand!” We cut to a medium of Jake sitting on the bed. We can barely see a bit of the left side of his silhouette, as he sits in the darkness, the light shaft illuminating the place next to him. He bawls and moans his lines while caressing his hand as the camera slowly zooms in: “Why’d you do it, why? You’re so stup—you’re so stupid. So fucking stupid, so stupid! They call me an animal. I’m not an animal! I’m not an animal! Why do they treat me like this, I'm not that bad, I'm not that bad! I’m not that bad...” His sobbing crescendos. He says “I’m not that guy...” The sentence seems to calm him, and he repeats it a few more times, until he sits in silence. We then hear Jake telling a joke in a J-Cut to the next scene: “guy comes home, finds his wife in bed with another guy. Wife says, look here, big mouth, now the whole neighborhood will know.” The scene ends in a solid cut. Thematic Breakdown: The reason why I think that this is the most important scene is because it shows how Jake expresses his frustration with himself and tries to come to terms with the consequences of his actions. Throughout the film he has been chasing glory, fame, love, and the heavyweight title. Everything he does, he does for himself, and he wants to do it all on his own. Now he sits in his miserable cell, wondering where he went wrong. This scene shows Jake at his lowest, and the way the entire setting reflects it. The set is sparse, making the protagonist and the guards the only interesting subjects in the frames. The lighting in the cell is very strategically placed, where Jake is moving in and out of the light. The lighting direction is from above, signaling that he is in a very low and desolate place, but also mimicking the directionality of a spotlight. Jake has spent his entire life fighting to be in the spotlight, and it is not until this scene that he realizes that he has lost it. His face is visible for the entire scene, until he breaks his hand and sits down to sob. Until that moment of the scene, he is constantly in denial and fighting the inevitable. He fights the guards tooth and nail to avoid his cell. Once he is in, he screams profanities and beats the walls. Once the situation sinks in and he realizes all his ravings are futile, he sits on the cot (and Jake rarely is shown resting) in the darkness, out of the spotlight, accepting that he is no longer the man he used to bet. My favorite line is when Jake cries out, “they call me an animal. I’m not an animal!” yet showing the most animalistic of tendencies. Jake is brought into the prison kicking and screaming the worst obscenities. He is unkempt and filthy. His breathing is heavy, like a beast. When his rage subsides and he realizes his imprisonment, he doesn’t accept the situation, but rather beats the wall until his hand breaks. He finally sits down and sobs incoherently. None of these behaviors are those of a rational being. Here we see him in an inhuman light, his actions those of a wounded animal. Once I made this connection, I noticed that Jake had been acting like an animal for the entire film, pursuing everything to satisfy his basic desires. He ate, drank, fought, and pursued romances as much as he wanted and only when he desired it, never being satisfied and only for his own pleasure. Almost every problem he had in the film was partially his own fault. He was so obsessed over his wife’s unfaithfulness that he failed to notice that his own actions drove her away. He holds up everyone around him to a higher standard that himself, and blames everyone but himself for everything that happens. Even in his darkest hour, when arrested for drunk and disorderly conduct, a crime that can only be his responsibility, Jake still can’t see any personal responsibility for his own demise.
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Terrence Malick has a reputation for making films that ponder existential philosophical questions and usually feature nonlinear plots, stoic characters, and heavy use of narration and montage. The result are films that are ambiguous, touching, confusing, and highly contentious. His two most well-known and highly acclaimed films are his coming-of-age film The Tree of Life and historical drama A Hidden Life. Both films feature Terrence Malik’s trademark poetic style, and share much in common, despite being distinctly different at the core.
The Tree of Life (2011) is the story of a man named Jack overlooking his childhood experiences as he grieves the death of his brother. Its plot synopsis is simple, yet the film itself is unbelievably complex. It blends the past with the present and juxtaposes reality with dreamlike visions. Dozens of moments in Jack’s life are stitched together with visions of the galaxies, natural and urban landscapes, Heaven, and even dinosaurs. The experience is confusing for some viewers of the film, while others (like myself) are captivated by its beauty. A Hidden Life (2019) is the story of Franz Jägerstätter, an Austrian farmer who was imprisoned and executed by the Nazi government after he refused to swear an oath of loyalty to Adolf Hitler. As a biographical film, it features less surrealist imagery than The Tree of Life, but it still retains a similar dreamlike quality. Most of the scenes are also shot as montages, breaking continuity and other traditional filmmaking rules. Prof. Joel Mayward says that A Hidden Life is such an impactful film due to being a true story told in the format of a Ricourian parable, which is: a transformative short story which redescribes the religious dimension of human existence without resorting to overtly religious discourse. It theologically or religiously refers to something beyond what was literally told in the narrative, even as the story remains coherent in itself—it is simultaneously religious and non-religious, sacred and profane. (Mayward 9) While God and religion are not explicitly addressed in the film, Franz’s life serves as a compass that points to something greater. Both films pose philosophical questions about the nature of the relationship between God and Man. Religion is the cornerstone on which the foundation of these two films are built, whether it be Franz’s steadfast faith and refusal to compromise or Mrs. O’Brien’s wayward despair. The protagonists of both films are part of devout Catholic families, many characters pray to God and ponder His intentions, several scenes are shot in churches, and one of the characters in A Hidden Life is a priest. The films show the faith life of the individuals in visceral detail, but God Himself remains a mystery. While God’s existence is highly affirmed and unquestioned, the characters’ communication and relationships with him are shown to be one-way. Prayers are unanswered and characters fall into despair. The view of God is extremely grounded in the human perspective, in contrast with other works which take a third person view in the matter, such as the Bible and Dante’s Divine Comedy. We see the turmoil of two types of faith lives in both films, between the sufferings of Mrs. O’Brien lamenting the loss of her son, and Franz’s seemingly hopeless conviction to preserve his conscience despite being viciously beaten by guards while awaiting his death sentence. It is hard to believe that Malick portrays a loving God who cares about and interacts with us whom he sees as children, rather than a cold, uncaring, and distant God who sets the universe in motion and passively watches everything unfold. However, I argue the contrary. My claim is that the God that Terrence Malick portrays is a loving God who loves us and actively works in the world to bring out the good in everything. Malick has not publicly claimed to membership of any Christian denomination. We can see the ways that his Catholic mother and Episcopalian father have influenced his faith throughout his upbringing (Biskind), but we do not know if he believes in the divine nature of Jesus Christ. If Malick did, we could logically conclude that Malick’s God an active one, since God sent His only son to sacrifice Himself for the forgiveness of sins. However, all we can concretely determine about how Malick sees God is through the content of his films. Malick’s God: Creator of the Universe Terrence Malick has several moments in these two films that reveal the quality of the God he portrays in his films. His most forthright is the creation sequence from The Tree of Life. Early in The Tree of Life, Mr. and Mrs. O’Brien are mourning the death of their youngest child, R.L. (we do not know why, only that he was a young adult, and it was sudden and unexpected). Mrs. O’Brien walks down the suburban streets, wishing that she were dead, if only to be with her son. She eventually culminates with “My hope, my God. What did You gain? Was I false to You, Lord? Why? Where were You? Did You know [that R.L. would die]? Who are we to You? Answer me! I search for You.” Malick answers her plea with a twenty-minute montage of the formation of the universe, the development of life on Earth, and the asteroid that killed the dinosaurs. After the asteroid, the montage changes to the growth of Jack as an embryo through his birth, which starts the second act of the film. Dr. Bertha Mannien, a humanities professor at ASU, contends that this section of the film can be seen as a direct adaptation from the book of Job. When Job laments his sufferings and questions the Lord, He answers. The opening text of The Tree of Life echoes this passage from the Old Testament: Then the Lord answered Job out of the storm and said: Who is this who darkens counsel with words of ignorance? . . . Where were you when I laid the foundations for the earth? Tell me, if you have understanding. Who determined its size? Surely you know? Who stretched out the measuring line for it? into what were its pedestals sunk, and who laid its cornerstone, when the morning stars sang together and all the sons of God shouted for joy? (1 Job 38:1-7, underlining added to show opening text in The Tree of Life). Mannien explains that God’s response “has [traditionally] been interpreted as a kind of ‘pulling rank’ on Job . . . where God essentially silences Job and tells him that he has no right to question Him (Mannien 6).” Mannien says that she was never satisfied with this interpretation and believes that Malick suggests a different interpretation of this passage. Mannien argues that in The Tree of Life and the book of Job, God is not describing creation to demonstrate His might and power, but to show the wondrous gift of creation and existence that He has given us (Mannien 7-11). This revelation narrows down our view of Malick’s God. We know that in His anger, he does not dismiss Mrs. O’Brien’s tragedy as insignificant compared to His might and majesty, but insignificant compared to all the good she has received. God wants Mrs. O’Brien to know how suffering is meant to be viewed: as the thorns that come with the gift of a rose. So Malick’s God wants us to be grateful for what we have been given and embrace the sufferings we receive. But does He care about us? How much do we mean to Him? The stars, planets, and galaxies are grand and magnificent, and the lives of men seem fleeting, fragile, and important. The asteroid that strikes the earth, killing almost all of life is shown from a far distance, a minute ripple in the cosmic ocean. However, after the asteroid, we cut to the O’Brien parents preparing for and celebrating the birth of their first child, Jack. This shift in scenes is abrupt but intentional. This quick change of scenes connects the creator of the universe to Jack’s conception, who like the cosmos, was designed with a unique beauty and a purpose. Malick’s God: Giver of Paradise At the end of The Tree of Life, after the O’Briens leave their house in Waco, we see Jack pondering at his office. We then see Jack traverse a surreal desert landscape, following a girl in a white dress. The girl leads him through a doorway and to a weathered beach. We see Jack as an adult and as a child reunite with his family and other figures from his childhood. This is a vision of the afterlife of the film, whether there is a Hell in Malick’s eschatology is indeterminate. The Tree of Life’s vision of Heavan is simple, just joyful forgiveness and reconciliation between the O’Brien family. In this Heaven, all characters seem to have a deep understanding of each other, and forgiveness is the only natural course of action. This Heavan is the answer to Mr. O’Brien’s guilt-ridden anguish. At the beginning of the film Mr. O’Brien recalls the pain he inflicted on R.L. because of his perfectionism: “He punched himself in the face for no reason. Sitting next to me on the piano bench when I criticized the way he turned the pages...” Mr. O’Brien is tormented by the emotional abuse that he unintentionally inflicted upon his sons, facing the guilt of causing irreversible harm to his son and the fact that he will never get the chance to fix his mistake. Malick’s Heaven gives Mr. O’Brian the impossible chance to live in harmony with his family, with everyone’s understanding expanded by the forgiveness and understanding of death. If Malick’s God did not love man, how could He have created this paradise of forgiveness for us? Even the mere existence of the afterlife itself proves that we are infinitely more valuable than the rest of creation. To Malick’s God, we are more than just ants crawling around the landscape of the universe. During the Heaven montage, the end of the creation sequence is shown. The sun explodes in a supernova, the earth is engulfed in flame. All the grand wonders of the cosmos wither away, but only man lives on under the face of God. Righteous Lives: The Compasses that Point to Malick’s God Around thirty minutes into A Hidden Life, Franz Jägerstätter is helping the local painter refurbish the murals on the church walls. The painter gives a monologue about portraying suffering and truth. He says that the artist paints the sufferings of others to create sympathy, admirers, people who follow what is portrayed. “Christ’s life is a demand. We don’t want to be reminded of it. We don’t want to face the truth.” he says about the struggle of portraying Christ. At the end of his monologue, he speaks at an angle almost directly addressing the camera and concludes “I paint [the audience's] comfortable Christ, with a halo over his head. How can I show what I haven’t lived? Someday I might have the courage to venture, not yet. Someday I’ll have the courage to paint the true Christ.” The character of the painter is most likely a self-insert from Malick (in the present-day, or in a younger stage of his life), since he speaks more to the audience than to Franz. This line is important since it sheds some light on what Malick thinks about how he has “painted” God and suffering. Malick has had many struggles and sufferings that he uses to influence his films. His brother (whom the character R.L. from The Tree of Life is likely based off) committed suicide when he was 19, and Malik himself has been twice divorced. We can see through the heavy correlation between Malick’s life and The Tree of Life, that he has also been in the position of wondering why God allows people to suffer. A Hidden Life is Malick’s portrayal of a living witness of the painter’s vision of a perfect man, the true Christ, one who endures injustice after injustice, giving his life for something greater than worldly minds can comprehend. If Franz Jägerstätter is Malick’s ideal follower of God, examining the good sheep should give us some insight on the Good Shepherd. Throughout the film, Franz is dwarfed by his surroundings, visually and politically. Cinematographer Jörg Widmer uses wide angle lenses and extreme angles to emphasize the vastness of the Austrian landscape and the narrow confinement of the German prisons. Franz is a stoic and thoughtful man, who observes everything happening around him. When he is spat on by neighbors or beaten by prison guards, rather than retaliating or cursing God, he just stares back silently, turning the other cheek. Neither does he back down from his stance, even in the face of death. Franz dies on the guillotine, not having changed the outcome of the war whatsoever. Yet the film heralds him as a hero, advises us to be like him, even in his decision to leave his wife and children to survive without him to die a seemingly meaningless death. However, his death was not useless. When the screen fades to black after the bleak ending of the film, there is a quote by writer George Eliot “...for the growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts; and that things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been, is half owing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life, and rest in unvisited tombs.” No man’s life is insignificant. Franz’s Christ-like meekness and acceptance of his execution troubles the hearts of the men content with the surrounding tyranny, who plead for him to submit to the Reich. Several judges, townsfolk, and clergy are touched by Franz, and wish for him not to die. Their desire to be passive to the tyrannical government is challenged. If all those people listened to their consciences and made a stand as Franz did, there may have been a real change in the outcome of the war. Does God do anything about the atrocities of war? We may not see it from Franz’s perspective, but yes. If Malick’s God was as intentional with the creation of Franz as he was with the creation of Jack and everyone else, then the existence of every good human being is living proof that God uses people to change the world. Since man has free will, God creates everyone to shape the world and inspires those like Franz to stand up for what is right. Not everyone accepts the call of God in their lives, and they are the cause of many of the evils in this world. However, God will not stop them, since he loves us as individual persons and does not wish to remove the possibility of a choice, the determining factor that shapes who we are as individuals. Why do we suffer? This creation sequence of The Tree of Life invalidates the idea that we suffer because God does not care about us, and A Hidden Life attributes some sufferings as a result of human free will. However, it cannot be denied that some sufferings are caused by God, and suffering itself is a part of God’s creation. Malick’s God is extremely intentional when it comes to creating each individual person. He created Jack’s two younger brothers knowing that they would die young, and the impact that it would have on the family. Suffering is a part of creation and part of life. If all of God’s creation is designed for our own good in mind, then there must be something inherently good about suffering. At some point in their stories, all of the characters in The Tree of Life and A Hidden Life come to terms with this fact. This knowledge is what keeps Franz able to endure the social stigma his town has attached to him, and the physical beatings given to him by the German prison guards. Accepting her sufferings is what gives Mrs. O’Brien peace when she concludes her angry rant at God with “I give him to you; I give you my son.” To grasp a fuller meaning of suffering and its place in God’s creation, there is another biblical parallel to be drawn. Dr. Vernon W. Cisney of Gettysburg University points out considerable connections to the Akedah, the story of Abraham sacrificing Isaac at the top of the mountain and reflects on existentialist philosopher Soren Kierkegaard’s thoughts and analysis of the encounter. Cisney states that the gravity of Abraham completely prepared to kill his own son is highly diminished in modern culture. “We honor a man who is, by every single existing ethical framework we hold, a murderer . . . a monster, not a hero” says Cisney (203). If Abraham committed his actions based on his hope in the modern misinterpretation of the story, “Just trust God, and everything will be alright,” he shoulld be rightly called a lunatic. Kierkegaard says that Abraham’s sacrifice requires a basis of faith, not hope. Whatever hope Abraham might have had would have been madness without the knowledge of hindsight (Cisney 204). Kierkegaard defines a sacrifice as relinquishing the love of an earthly thing, and placing that love in God, where it belongs. True sacrifice is both temporary and necessary. Temporary because the giver knows they will receive the gift back in eternal life. Necessary because without sacrifice, we arrogantly create a sense of entitlement for ourselves (Cisney 204-205). God’s suffering removes our selfishness and entitlement not only so we can live in a better relationship with Him, but also with our neighbors. Selfishness and entitlement is what causes the evils caused by other men, such as the supporters of Hitler’s Reich in A Hidden Life. We can see the entitled anger of Mrs. O’Brien when she loses R.L. and the loss of Mr. O’Brien’s entitlement when he loses the company job he worked so hard for. Mr. And Mrs. O’Brien, the embodiments of the film’s themes of nature (selfishness) and grace (selflessness). Mr. O’Brien is a perfectionist, very strict with his wife and children, has never been late to work or missed Mass on Sunday. By being forceful and controlling, he has built himself a false sense of control over the world, expecting his puritan ideals to be rewarded with a life free of obstacles. When confronted by layoffs, he is forced to sacrifice his job, his pride and his status. He realizes all the beauty he has missed in life. Mrs. O’Brien is faithful, selfless, and passive, expecting nothing and thankful for everything. But when her precious child is taken away from her, she lashes out at God, bitter that her behavior hasn’t been rewarded. After viewing the childhood of Jack and his brothers, we see that she has also sacrificed her attachment to R.L. After she offers him up to God, the afterlife sequence begins, God giving the family back to each other, beatified and perfected. This is why the Jägerstätter family is able to deal with the constant suffering they have to endure. They accept and are grateful for the gifts they have received and are willing to give them up for their love of God and obedience to His commandments. When Fani receives the news of Franz’s death, she is heartbroken, but thankful for the time she had with him, and knows she will see him again. She ends the film addressing Franz “I’ll meet you there, in the mountains” knowing God will reunite them in Heaven. We now have a clearer picture of the God portrayed by Terrence Malick. He has created the universe with great detail and intention, not for His own personal amusement, but out of love for us. We know not why Malick’s God loves man so much, we can only logically deduce that he does, else the existence of Heaven would be pointless, an attribute not consistent with the intentional artistry behind the cosmos and the earth. Malick points to the Jägerstätter family as the ideal model of living a good relationship with the Creator, and the story of the O’Brien family as an example of how to reach that relationship with Him. Finally, we know that this perfect relationship with God is based on sacrifice, the ability to give up things that you love to satisfy a greater love. Terrence Malick’s God is proactive in the universe, and creates sufferings and joys to keep us balanced and selfless. Works Cited Biskind, Peter. “The Runaway Genius: Behind Terrence Malick’s The Thin Red Line.” Vanity Fair, 23 Apr. 2010, www.vanityfair.com/hollywood/2010/04/runaway-genius-199812. Cisney, Vernon W. “The Gifts of Death: Visions of Sacrifice in the Worlds of Terrence Malick.” A Critical Companion to the Works of Terrence Malick, vol. 1, Lexington Books, London, England, 2020, pp. 199–215. Eliot, George. Middlemarch. Everett/Edwards, 1976. Manninen, Bertha Alvarez Ph.D. (2013) "The Problem of Evil and Humans’ Relationship with God in Terrence Malick’s The Tree of Life," Journal of Religion & Film: Vol. 17: Iss. 1, Article 34. https://digitalcommons.unomaha.edu/jrf/vol17/iss1/34 Mayward, Joel. “Viewing Terrence Malick’s a hidden life as political theology: Toward theocinematics.” Journal of Religion & Film, vol. 27, no. 2, 2 Oct. 2023, https://doi.org/10.32873/uno.dc.jrf.27.02.02. The New American Bible. United States Conference of Catholic Bishops, 2002, https://www.vatican.va/archive/ENG0839/__PFN.HTM |
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