Arms Update #634284632218

In five (5) years I have changed my armorial bearings ten (10) times. While the whole project started perhaps as a pandemic pastime, it had been a matter of personal interest for years. Each time I entrusted the depiction of them to a professional. This last time I did likewise, but with someone different from the usual two artists. U/lambrequin_mantling added his fine efforts to those of fleurdelis.com and Reidarmas.com.

Partway through this saga I decided on arms for the parish, based on a logo (crossed key and sword) that a priest classmate devised in 2020. I learned it was acceptable for a parish pastor to "marshal" his personal arms with those of his parish, as a diocesan bishop often does with his diocese.

 

My parish arms "marshalled" with my personal ones

The customary "blazon" (description):

Arms impaled. Dexter: Quarterly Azure and Vert a key fesswise wards to sinister surmounted by a sword in pale point to base Or on a chief wavy of the last a plough of the first shafted of the second. Sinister: Per chevron enhanced wavy Sable and Argent a burning bush eradicated of the first enflamed proper.

Blazon language varies a bit among the various schools, and admits of some interpretation. A blazon is a kind of blueprint that a skilled heraldic artist would use to recreate the arms.

If I were carrying this shield into battle, the parish arms would be on my right and on the viewer's left. My personal arms would be on my left and the viewer's right. Blazoning uses the Latin names dexter (right) and sinister (left) from the bearer's reference point.

Many surnames around the world have their own arms, passed down for generations. Other folks like me, knowing of no inherited arms, devise their own. There are national "colleges" (institutes) that grant official recognition to historical and personal creations. Within a single heraldic authority, one grant cannot duplicate another. 

Arms are meant to follow the "less is more" principle. The above revision history indicates that I have a hard time following this principle, but I think I've come around to it.

Canvases risk becoming too busy if a bearer attempts to make a curriculum vitae of his arms, according to Fr. Guy Selvester, a priest of the Metuchen (NJ) Archdiocese and heraldic expert. A shield cannot become "a few of my favorite things," as the song says. Choices of charges (things) and tinctures (colors)  should happen with care and abide by certain rules. Notable among them is the "rule of tincture," by which one color should not go on top of another. Now, such rules have their exceptions, but exceptions are not meant to be indiscriminate.

Modern heraldic choices often have personal meaning to the bearer, and the above are no exception. Below is my explanation of the arms I devised for my parish, Saints Peter and Paul in Lehighton (PA, USA) and for myself. I begin each explanation with the term that is used in the blazon.

Parish arms, displayed at the viewer's left: 

Quarterly: color scheme of the stained-glass backgrounds of Saints Peter and Paul in the windows above the church apse (vide infra) 

Key: representing Saint Peter, parish co-patron, to whom Jesus entrusted "the keys to the kingdom of heaven" (Matthew 16:19); that is, governance of His Church. 

Wards to sinister: the handle of the key is on the viewer's left.

Fesswise: the horizontal placement of the key recalls how the Lord Jesus worked and prayed side-by-side with Saint Peter. It also alludes to the work of healing, in which people encounter Christ face-to-face with each other. 

Sword: representing Saint Paul, parish co-patron, who was martyred by the sword; also alludes to Ephesians 6:17, in which Paul exhorted the faithful to "take…..the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God." Also associated with the "knights" nickname of Saints Peter and Paul Parish School. 

In pale: the vertical placement of the sword recalls how the Lord Jesus encountered and called Saint Paul as it were "from above," after He had ascended into heaven. It also alludes to the work of evangelization, as when Paul directed those who were "raised with Christ [to] seek the things that are above" (Colossians 3:1). 

Point to base: the sword point is at the bottom of the shield.

In chief wavy: allusion to the Lehigh River, a medium of commerce, transport, and recreation along which is built the Borough of Lehighton, Pennsylvania. 

Plough: featured in the seal of the Borough of Lehighton, testifying to its history of agriculture and steadfast work ethic; also alludes to Luke 9:62, where Jesus warned a divided disciple, "No one who sets a hand to the plow and looks to what was left behind is fit for the kingdom of God." 

Shaft: Just as the beam of the plough serves to bear its weight and direct its force, Saint Joseph provided loving headship over the Holy Family and now guides Christ's Mystical Body, the Church.

Azure (blue): representing the Blessed Virgin Mary, vital to the faith, hope, and charity of a disciple of Jesus. Its use in the base of the plough refers to Mary's maternity of Christ and of Christians, and the priority of the "Marian dimension" of discipleship over the "Petrine dimension" of hierarchy. Also, together with Or, a color associated with the former Saints Peter and Paul Parish School. 

Vert (green): representing Saint Joseph, Guardian of the Redeemer and Patron of the Universal Church. Also a color once associated with Saints Peter and Paul Parish School. 

Or (gold): recalling Jesus' directive to "look up and see the fields ripe for harvest" (John 4:35).

My arms, displayed at the viewer's right: 

Per chevron: for its use in military and construction, the chevron alludes to the Archangel Michael, Bearer's middle name and patron of his first assignment as Pastor, as well as Saint Joseph (Bearer's Confirmation name), guardian of Christ and spouse of the Blessed Virgin Mary. 

Enhanced wavy: alludes to the river by which Saint Christopher (Bearer's first name) transported the child Jesus; Bearer often runs and cycles along river-adjacent trails. 

Burning Bush: a favorite image of the Bearer, by which the Lord appeared to Moses (cf. Exodus 3); also a favored patristic allusion to the Blessed Virgin Mary, whose chaste womb bore God. Bearer also considers fire as a play on words with the family name, Zelonis, and zelus, Latin for "zeal." 

Eradicated: the Burning Bush is depicted with its bare roots showing; as a Catholic Priest, Bearer is subject to reassignment and, like all disciples of Jesus, invited to the process of conversion with the necessary uprooting of vice. 

Proper: depicted in its (super)natural condition. 

Sable (black): alludes to the darkness that cannot overcome the light of Christ (John 1:5), the darkness that we nonetheless face within and around us. 

Argent (silver): recalls the origin of the surname Zelonis, from the Lithuanian word Zilionis, "grey-headed"; also suggestive of the Bearer's high school rank of salutatorian; a nod to the medal for a second-place finish. Sable and Argent together represent black and white piano keys; Bearer is a lifelong organist and trumpet player.

Motto: Deus noster ignis consumens est,  "Our God is a consuming fire" (Hebrews 12:29; cf. Deuteronomy 4:24). The Church Fathers compared Mary's impregnated womb to the Bush aflame yet unconsumed, within which the Lord revealed Himself to Moses (cf. Exodus 3:2). Moses called the Lord a "consuming fire" to remind Israel of His unrivaled solicitude for her.

The hat on top of the arms is a "galero," ceremonial for clerics, distinguished by its color and the tassels suspended therefrom. A simple priest has a black galero with one tassel hanging on either side.

*As mentioned above, St. Peter's head has a blue background and the rest of him has a green background, whereas St. Paul's head has a green background and the rest of him has a blue background; hence the "quarterly" division of blue and green on the parish shield.

A spectacle, vraiment

I don't tend to offer commentary on causes célèbres. Our Bishop and other authoritative people have done this well. Presuming the Olympics were indeed subjected to simulations of the De Vinci Last Supper portrayal, of St. Denis the Protomartyr of France (evoked through Dionysus the Greek god of extravagance in the exhilarating agents including wine, lust, and theatre), and a mythic spin on St. Jeanne d'Arc on a white horse, and all of it in drag. 

We know well enough from our own sacred history that what is oppressed is multiplied: think of the Israelites in Egypt prior to the interventions God arranged through Moses. Think of Holy Mother Church herself in the wake of Denis and his companions of every time and land. The "last acceptable prejudice" also will persist, under the Enemy's baton, but he has won the silver medal in mockery. Our Lord and His team took the gold when they mocked death itself. 

I don't expect any retraction or clarification from Paris, and some have cited the curiously selective power outage (excluding Sacre Coeur, Paris' Sacred Heart Basilica) as a counter strike for those who seek signs in the peculiarities of life. Especially in the modern era, the French will French; the Adversary will oppose. What is resisted tends to persist. 

In His appearance to Saint Margaret Mary, Jesus already noted the ingratitude His Heart receives from those He has loved unto death. We can recapture the culture of reparation that prays and works not to uphold our own dignity as a people offended (such sallies usually recoil anyhow), but to restore our own reverence and perhaps to inspire repentance in others.

Already gone?

Both the Catholic Church and the United States of America are in interesting times; in large part, our attitudes and actions are making the times interesting. I say “interesting” as the famous fortune cookie puts it, instead of “bad” or any related word. St. Augustine did remind us that things are as they ever were.

 

The Collect for today’s Mass [the 14th Sunday in Ordinary Time; Ed.] tells of the “slavery to sin” from which the Incarnation and Paschal Mystery has rescued us. As we lament the times, we do well to affirm the completed sense of Redemption. It might help us to be more receptive to prophecy, whencesoever it comes and whatever it observes.

 

Fifty years ago, the prophet Glenn Frey declared this word of Jack Tempchin and Robert Arnold Strandlund: “So oftentimes it happens that we live our lives in chains / And we never even know we have the key.”

 

Unaware, or more accurately, “hard of face and obstinate of heart” (Ez 2:4-5), we are geared to reject what prophets have to say, which is not so much foretelling the future as now-telling how God sees things. Convinced this or that messenger is unworthy to speak, we remain “rebels” who yet know God has visited them.

 

Church and nation alike receive periodic invitations to humility. Recall the Boston Globe spotlighting both the rampant sexual abuse by Catholic clergy, and the complicity of bishops who persistently granted them access to children and vulnerable adults. I was ordained deacon 3 months after that series printed.

 

22 years thence, as each new victim’s blood cries out from the soil, each new abuse reinforces our willful blindness. We persist to offend as we profess being offended. Prophets within the Church now speak as loudly as those outside. Jesus, yet “amazed at [the] lack of faith” (Mk 6:6), performs few mighty deeds. Somehow, He strengthens the Church in her very weakness (cf. 2 Cor 12:10).

Spirit of God, Descend Upon My Heart

This article has the distinction of appearing in both my local secular (tnonline.com) and our diocesan (ad-today.com) news. However, it did not appear this way word-for-word, as I wanted to clarify some sentences and this is the best way to do it.

My three pleasant years as organist of First United Methodist Church in Saint Clair introduced me to robust congregational singing and impassioned hymnody. They didn't get more than 30 or 40 at a Sunday service, but you wouldn't have known it with your eyes closed.

Down the block at Bethlehem Baptist's annual St. David's Day Welsh Hymn Sing (Gymanfu Ganu), congregants and guests even harmonized! There I learned my preferred tune for "All Hail the Power of Jesus' Name," ("Diadem," not "Coronation"), which I have never heard a Catholic parish use.

I am grateful without measure for the gift of Christ's Real Presence in the Holy Eucharist, of course, and it was during a Monday morning Holy Hour where one of my favorites from that era returned to me, as periodically it does.

The tune "Morecambe" is the standard setting for "Spirit of God, Descend Upon my Heart" (tune ascribed to Frederick Cook Atkinson, words to George Croly). No hymn has better expressed my heart's desire in prayer, and it (rather, He, the Spirit) sparked this article.

"Spirit of God, descend upon my heart; wean it from earth, through all its pulses move; / Stoop to my weakness, mighty as Thou art, and make me love Thee as I ought to love."

It is unrealistic to think we will "become fire" all at once, as if one prayer session rewards the secret elevator inside the interior castle. The image of weaning illustrates God's sense of when and how to diversify each child's divine diet. 

"I ask no dream, no prophet ecstasies, no sudden rending of the veil of clay, / No angel visitant, no opening skies; but take the dimness of my soul away."

With the "veil of clay," I think of how Saint Paul encouraged the Romans to "present [their] bodies as...spiritual worship" (12:1). Flesh has the honor of conveying spirit, as spirit is worthy of expression in flesh.

Yet the transmission suffers some static. Very few receive unmistakable messages for ourselves or others, and it is unrealistic to expect any. Whatever delight the sluggish soul takes in the earliest offerings of solid food, we get too soon used to it. My kingdom for a crumb of clarity!

"Hast Thou not bid me love Thee, God and King? All, all Thine own--soul, heart, and strength, and mind. / I see Thy cross--there teach my heart to cling: / O let me seek Thee, and O let me find!"

This hymn gets down pat the first half of the Greatest Commandment (cf. Matthew 22:35-40 and parallels). We must look to the crucified Christ for the clearest demonstration of the love than which there is no whicher (cf. John 15:13).

I am glad that my parish and the Catholic Church in general "lifts high the [Occupied] Cross" to display the Lord's dual legacy of love and suffering. Let no inconvenience, hardship, or malady go unmined for grace; when a good deed is on my block, let me run as to Mister Softee.

"Teach me to feel that Thou art always nigh; teach me the struggles of the soul to bear, / To check the rising doubt, the rebel sigh; teach me the patience of unanswered prayer."

Here is the proverbial rub: God doesn't seem "always nigh": ask the aforementioned Crucified One. We will wonder when silence is the all-too-typical result. The ego-sigh is especially audible when the consequences of my rebellions come to call.

Saint Ignatius of Antioch called "consolation" and "desolation" the alternating experiences of God in the house or out to lunch. Why didn't I get the schedule? Only Jesus knew when "the hour has come" (John 12:23), and marched toward it with understandable dread.

"Teach me to love Thee as Thine angels love, one holy passion filling all my frame; / The kindling of the heaven-descended Dove, my heart an altar, and Thy love the flame."

Non sumus angeli, one priestly commentator pointed out on an old series that would have been great for YouTube. Curiosity customarily gets the better of me, and beneficially for once: Franciscan Father Leo Clifford's succinct "Reflections" have been uploaded. The low video quality is refreshing.

No, we are not angels. But the Holy Spirit, Who came once in flame, once in feathers, and once in a flow, is stoked to settle within us. Not that He intends for us a sedentary satisfaction: flames spread, and this Consuming Fire takes no prisoners as He breaks all chains.