This Sundays Gospel, continuing the consecutive reading of the sixth chapter of St. Johns Gospel, contains the statement of Christ in response to the grumbling crowd: "No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draw him." (I note in passing that the politically correct "I Am the Bread of Life" has transmogrified this into "unless the Father beckon", apparently in order to avoid the masculine personal pronoun.)In their commentaries on this statement, Augustine and Aquinas explored at some length how to reconcile the fact that faith must be free and the statement that no one can come to Christ (which means believe in him) unless drawn dragged, pulled by the Father. Both of the saints point out that the verb implies some degree of violence. If one has to be dragged to Christ, how can faith be free?By pure coincidence, while thinking about my homily for this Gospel, I read an article in the London Tablet by Fr. Daniel OLeary which ends with his quoting some lines from Denise Levertovs poem "The Thread." I was delighted to see how Christs metaphor informs the whole of what I take to be her description of her poetical and religious journey:Something is very gently,invisibly, silently,pulling at me-a threador net of threadsfiner than cobweb and aselastic. I haven't triedthe strength of it. No barbed hookpierced and tore me. Was itnot long ago this threadbegan to draw me? Orway back? Was Iborn with its knot about myneck, a bridle? Not fearbut a stirringof wonder makes mecatch my breath when I feelthe tug of it when I thoughtit had loosened itself and gone.