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.

Arms Update #634284632217

 

This is it- make no mistake anymore.

Blazoned thus by u/MajoEsparza of the Reddit:

Argent, a bush enflamed proper, and upon a chief wavy Purpure a sword and a saw in saltire also proper, all within a bordure compony Sable and Argent.

Alternatively:

Per fess enhanced wavy Purpure and Argent, in chief a sword and saw in saltire, and in base a bush enflamed proper, all within a bordure compony Sable and Argent.

You could also specify how many pieces the bordure should have as "...of 24 pieces Sable and Argent" or "Argent and Sable", depending on whichever you want. You could also change the "bush enflamed" with "the burning bush".

This website also has become familiar with my vagaries in heraldic achievement. I'd like to think of each as intentional and meaningful. These last few have retained the same "charges" (items); the main changes have been in tincture (colors) and layout. Shield style also, which is less vital. 

The charges and field division pertain to my name, either directly or by allusion. 

Christopher: the wavy line resembling the river he crossed with Our Lord; 

Michael: the sword, also used by the Lithuanian vytis (knight, on their arms); 

Joseph, the saw;

Zelonis, the bush burning but not consumed. 

The burning bush has no intrinsic connection, save the false cognate of zelus (L, "zeal"); I do not know what my name means in Lithuanian. I put Hebrews 12:29 on my ordination card: "for our God is a consuming fire." I note that the Fathers of the Church often compared the Virgin Mother Mary to that bush aflame (pregnant) yet unconsumed (virginal).

I chose a two-handed saw to represent Joseph (my Confirmation name), suspecting that he and his Son sawed some wood together a few times. Consider, too, the synergy of God and man in the Incarnation and in the Christian life.

I was stationed in parishes dedicated to St. Joseph the Worker (curate, from March to December 2007) and St. Michael the Archangel (pastor, October 2016 to June 2019). My current parish, Saints Peter and Paul of Lehighton, PA, is near the Lehigh River. I often run and bike on windy river-adjacent trails.

I thought it neat that I received the finished product from fleurdelis.com today, when the 12th chapter of Hebrews was in the Office of Readings. This also happened, I think, with a previous revision. Is it odd, or is it God?

I felt moved to send my ordination card to the artists, noticing today that the original (which listed my First Mass at my home parish, where it didn't happen) cites Hebrews 13:29; reader, there is no 13:29. It was changed to 12:29 in the second card, which also omitted the actual location of the Mass (the former St. Mary Church in my hometown of Saint Clair, PA, now the site of St. Clare of Assisi Parish, where I resided while serving as a hospital chaplain from June 2014 to October 2016).

Silver reflects my second-place finish in my high school class: it serves as a sufficient background for the bush, termed "proper" because it is meant to represent the original (as far as we know; but isn't the plant red?). So what if I was second? God is and must be first.

Purple reflects my indecisiveness, as red is on the Lithuanian and Polish flags, and blue is Marian. I decided to combine them. 

The alternating black-white border alludes to 🎹 ; the reigning Bishop of Harrisburg, Timothy C. Senior, a skilled pianist, did it before me (vide infra).

That's my achievement, and I'm sticking to it. Face it: one of them will end up being my last!

Arms Update #634284632216

Nearly ⅔ of the way through the Year of Our Lord 2023 and I'm posting here for the first time, mostly to change my header to reflect yet another coat of arms:

The blazon (heraldic description) reads: "Tenné, a bend sinister wavy argent surmounted by a burning bush purpure, in dexter chief a sword in bend argent, hilt vert and or, and in base a two-handed saw argent in bend, handles or; overall, a bordure company argent and sable."

Arma virumque cano

This post concerning my coat of arms is the background for the current update of the same, which is the work of the same artist. While my current arms are found in the header to this blog, I attach them here for easier and hopefully clearer reference.

Modifications from the previous version are as follows: the more customary style of galero; the return to the earliest motto (Heb 12:29; cf. Dt 4:24 et al) found on my ordination card and a huge stack of letterheads I may never use up; the removal of the lily from the St. Joseph-themed charge, for simplicity's sake; the relocation of the burning bush “in chief” (centered) and quite prominent on the shield; the slight widening of the "bordure compony" (composite border of sable and argent), and the tinctures (colors) in the main part of the shield.

The tinctures are the most dramatic change. I consider purpure a blend of the red and blue in my previous shield, a tribute to both that becomes its own expression. It is a royal hue—more the Roman purple of Lent than the indigo of Advent.

The tenné below is not a tincture, properly speaking, but, in heraldic terms, a “stain” infrequently used in heraldry, only among the English and a few others.

The color originally was more of an orange, but I changed it to a tan approaching leather; both are attested in heraldry, as infrequently as it is attested at all. It made me wonder whether the color of Tennessee football and other sports was related to the name of the stain, Tenné, but it doesn’t seem to have any connection. Not the first stretch I’ve made. 

For one thing, I just like the color orange.

Yes, it was Frank Sinatra’s favorite and "happiest" color: did I just adopt it myself in tribute to him?  Not entirely, but his preference of it is not unimportant to me. Orange factors highly in my life, as a color of several cars over the years, and various personal items besides. For me it’s not the new black (impossible for a priest!), but a suitable sidekick.

Heraldic  a stain was used as a denigration of the bearer’s status. I’ve denigrated myself enough over the years, but would I want that fact to reflect in something so personal, so emblematic, so final (😆)?

Trust me: I’ve been thinking about other revisions since this declaration of arms. But the one thing I don’t want to, ahem, part with, I have not mentioned yet: it is the wavy bend sinister, the undulating dividing line that rises from the viewer’s bottom left to the top right. It both parts the purple and tenné and personally symbolizes Saint Christopher, as the river across which he carried the Christ child.

Another reason for the tenné is its resemblance to Amber, the rock used in Lithuanian and Polish jewelry. A darker version of the stain provides more of a contrast to the gold of the burning bush. Not that the orange is necessarily inappropriate, as I’ve held onto the earlier rendition with that color and I might use it sometimes. The difference is slight.

Measure Ten Times, Cut Twelve

I should call my original coat of arms “Well Enough,” because I couldn’t leave it alone.

With all due respect to Luis of Reidarmas.com, I started picking at his lovely rendering, and you know what happens when you keep picking at something: it gets infected. What got the ball rolling was my curiosity as to whether the design was in conflict with established rules of heraldry.

(I do not mean to imply that Luis is unschooled in the rules of heraldry. Moreover, his designing skills in this regard are exquisite, taking what someone gives him, at the very least. This was more a problem of my lack of contentment. In many respects I am chaotic.)

New Direction - Which is to say, Any

I consulted someone who designs and comments on designs of ecclesiastical heraldry. He recommended several changes, not considering any of them particularly mandatory, but some more than others.

First among the issues was the two swords crossing the river.  Second, the consultant discouraged the profuse representation of all these areas of my life, assignments, etc., a common practice in contemporary heraldic design. It becomes a two-dimensional version of those charm bracelets that were all the rage a few years ago. Overkill.

A coat of arms is more of a personal statement than a treatise on priesthood, which (unsurprisingly, intentionally) I was making it out to be. Not the first time I've been accused of trying too hard. Not that it has stopped me since. At any rate it's not improper (certainly not sinful) to ascribe loftier applications to heraldic components, even at the risk of abject eisegesis.

As I compose this post, I am awaiting reply from my consultant. But I would not wait to revise the heraldry according to my best attempts to simplify in ways meaningful and not gratuitous.

The good folks at Fleur-de-lis Designs (fleurdelis.com) incarnated what you see below on the right, substantially based on what you see below on the left, substantially based on the sketch I provided the original artist Luis. Hopefully that’s it now for revisions.

Here’s your hat: what’s your hurry?

As a bearer of ecclesiastical arms, I do not need any particular charge within the shield to represent the priesthood as such. The galero (hat) takes care of that. For a simple priest, the galero is black with one black tassel on each side.

This rounded style very much resembles one I fancied on the inter-webs. The new designer reworked it for my project.

Will you accept the charges?

“Look, Lord, here are two swords!” (Luke 22:38). And then there was one; and a single sword could represent to me not only my secondary nominal patron/first parochial patron Archangel Michael, but also the Lithuanian Vytis. The consultant suggested it could go inside the azure wavy, which I call the “blue river” for my purposes, provided it was metal-on-color.

As for that wavy, it had been stationed per pale (from top to bottom), but now it is per bend sinister (diagonally from bottom to top). Call it a tribute to writing with the sinister hand, which was no crime by the time I was taught how to write.

I switched out the argent (silver) flame with an or (gold) burning bush, following a long-held personal devotion to Moses’ encounter with a burning-but-not-consumed YHWH on Mount Horeb (Ex 3), with its Marian overtones in the Fathers. An icon of the Mosaic meetup appeared in a book on iconography that I consulted for a paper in college seminary. Love at first sight! I think it fed into my love of the color orange.

The plow had less personal significance (aside from my fond years at St. Charles Borromeo Seminary, on whose shield it is a heraldic charge), so I changed it to a blended charge representative of Saint Joseph, my Confirmation saint (and my late father’s first name). The argent (silver, kinda white) lily and or (gold) carpenter’s square fit fine against the gules (red) background.

That gules background is 1/2 the color of the Polish flag and 1/3 the color of the Lithuanian flag. Maybe I had just put a quarter into an online coat-of-arms composer, and it spit out two coats, one for Zelonis predominantly gules and one for Welker (Mom’s maiden name) azure. I didn’t think those families were important enough to merit their own heraldry, but who knows?

The name Zelonis is close to the Lithuanian word for the color gray, zilys. Aside from the cursory Google search of databases, I haven’t found any official meaning to my surname, which for all I know was an anglicization. If there is any connection to gray, my current shield shows it only in the sword and the lily.

Border warfare 

The more-rounded shield is surrounded by alternating sable (black) and argent (silver, a heraldic fudging of ivory): perhaps a persnickety personal stamp but, to my mind, sharp. Not as “sharp” as the sword hashtag, I grant. Clever, but not contrived. 

The most recent example is found around the shield of Bishop Timothy Christian Senior; the description of his coat of arms called it a bordure compony. If it has a fancy name, it must have some pedigree in the heraldry business. 

Since the heraldry is meant to reflect the person of the armiger (bearer of arms) more than his office, it seemed fit to adopt this border as a nod to my love of performing and listening to music; better, too, as a border than yet another charge.

Incidentally, Bishop Senior is a skilled pianist. He accompanied several of the musicals we did at Saint Charles, in which I either acted or played trumpet in the pit. 

Taking Occam’s Razor to the Motto

The final changed component was the motto. Ever before knowing simple priests could “bear arms,” I would take note of Scripture verses as future mottos, as part of a fascination with ecclesiastical heraldry, vesture, etc.

My ordination holy card boasted a burning bush, and, below it (in English), Hebrews 12:29: “For our God is a consuming fire.” Soon after ordination, I had a local printer make me stationery that featured at the bottom a burning bush and the Latin version of that motto.

So why didn’t I choose that verse? Mysteries abound. It certainly factors into my conception and experience of God, and my esteem of the mystical tradition. It was one of many intriguing excerpts of Scripture and other Church documents that I have been writing down or highlighting over the years. 

Settling on a single statement has proved difficult for me. I think that’s why I first chose Matthew 13:52 (“He brings forth from his treasury both the new and and the old”—qui profert de thesauro suo nova et vetera). 

As I type, its appeal once again strikes me. That’s how volatile my fancies fly. I have old choices, I have new choices. One after another I bring them out of my storeroom, show them off, and put them back. That’s a good description of the preacher’s craft, come to think of it.

Can I take a moment to relish the pun on “thesaurus”? I love words: I love to use them, especially big ones, obscure ones, foreign ones. No meadow is free from my word-wantonness (cf. Wis 2:9). Preachers draw words from their treasuries, and the Church’s treasury, in their feeble attempts to express the Word Incarnate.

But Saint Paul’s intention expressed in 1 Thessalonians 2:8 also describes the minister of the Word: he said he and his companions wanted to share “not only the Gospel of God, but [their] very selves as well” (non solum evangelium Dei, sed etiam animas nostras). Not only a content, but a contender.

That phrase (from 1 Thess, not the one about a contender, though I could’ve been!) eventually replaced the one from Matthew, like another note from the treasury. How can the preacher not invest himself in his ministry, to the extent that he conveys much of himself in the process of conveying Christ?

Since the paradoxical inclusion of apparent opposites is much at the heart of Catholic theology and spirituality, I figured, why not abbreviate it to the relevant adverbs non solum sed etiam: “Not only, but also”?

Species of the Origin

Doubtless you may say, as did the bystanders of Zechariah and Elizabeth, “Nobody in your family has this name,” meaning “Nobody else has used this as a motto.” You’re probably right.

But forget about the novelty: does it even make any sense? Maybe not by itself, but as it can be applied to any number of aspects in Catholic life. So is it wise to blazon it by itself? I will let this rhetorical question ring out into the ether.

Everybody has been reminding me this is my coat of arms and I need not be exceedingly dependent on anyone else’s opinion. Well, that has never satisfied me. I will do my best to remain at least somewhat unsatisfied. It’s my nature, at least as of right now.

Containment Considerations 8: I Need Cash Now

A couple of weeks have transpired since my last isolation reflection, and this is the eighth of that unspecified series. Both of these facts suggest it has been going on far too long. It promises to continue, at least in this part of Pennsylvania.

For many people, the containment doesn’t seem to have been going on at all, whether that’s because their usual business hasn’t involved much physical contact to begin with, their business has become unusually affected with the result of more contact (such as our noble first responders), or simply because they have been flouting the governmental directives.

As a parish priest, the core dimension of my ministry has not changed in the sense that I have not stopped offering daily the holy Mysteries entrusted to me by my bishop nearly 17 years ago. I have not stopped celebrating the Sacraments, proclaiming the Gospel, or caring for souls. I’ve just had to do it differently.

The World Online, like every novelty, has intrigued me since I first laid eyes on it. Here’s another shiny boulevard of Evangelization and self-expression! Which of those two purposes I have appreciated and enlisted more, varies depending on when you ask me what I’ve done with it today. I’m nothing if not inconsistent!

Sometimes those purposes look and sound rather similar. To this point, following up on an earlier post in which I laid out my ecclesiastical heraldry, I’ve actually changed a major component: my motto. It’s my expectation that you don’t fool with this stuff once it’s in print, but I do nothing if I don’t defy expectations, alone or with others.

My previous sacred slogan was Matthew 13:52, in which, after Jesus laid out a series of teachings on the kingdom of heaven in the form of parables, He closed out with a simple simile as the last parable in that series (like this episode, the 8th).

Ever the teacher, Jesus asked His followers, “Do you understand these things?” Upon their affirmative response, Jesus said, “then every scribe instructed in the kingdom of heaven is like the head of a household who brings forth from his storeroom both the new and the old” (profert de thesauro suo nova et vetera).

For my purposes (and those of the kingdom of heaven, I dare say), as a "scribe" I start off—and end up—both a recorder and an interpreter. That’s always the case whether the writings are sacred or secular. Traditore, tradutore: The one who hands things on for posterity, hands them over for betrayal. Not to say the original meaning is entirely lost, but like the genetic phenomenon of microchimerism, someone else gets handed on as well: something old, something new.

In jettisoning the phrase profert de thesauro suo nova et vetera, I am not altogether parting with it. Even though it will not appear below the crest, it still shows up in my thoughts, words, and actions. That’s how my new motto was germinating while I was working with the old one, and not surprisingly, that’s how the old one has been working since I’ve started with the new one. The more I cling to either of them, the more I suspect I am doing so in error: No rest for the wary.

I have turned my mind, for now, to chapter two of Saint Paul's first letter to the Thessalonians. He goes to some length and depth to make clear the purity of his ministerial motives. When it comes to human praise, he is not in it to win it. In verse seven, he compares the apostolic labors of his coterie to a nursing mother; in verse eleven, he compares it to a father's exhortation and insistence. There is something poignant to his inclusion of both parents in his comparison.

But the phrase that pays here is verse eight, where Saint Paul relays: "with such affection for you, we were determined to share with you not only the Gospel of God, but our very selves as well, so dearly beloved had you become to us" (non solum evangelium Dei, sed etiam animas nostras). When it comes to mottos, either one is somewhat large. Normally I don't see many over five words. So this is par for my course: why say in 500 words what you can say in 1000?

Speaking of which: This post had a main point, and I'm just getting to it. In an effort to convey "our very selves" as sometimes I do more than the Gospel of God as such, I sneaked up to the choir loft before my Zoom Pastoral Council meeting last night to record myself playing on the organ the operatic theme for the cash advance company J. G. Wentworth.

My only intention, to line the collective pockets with a little levity. That said, if they wanted to send cash now for a new Allen organ, I wouldn't refuse it.

The video has garnered a generous response from my friends on both the Facebook and the Twitter. I'm certainly humbled and grateful. It goes to show the solidarity of people in crazy times. We're all going through it.

As for my talent: Knowing the caliber of musicians alongside whom I've been playing in concert bands for thirty years, I make no claims at proficiency. What I lack in talent, I compensate for in willingness and schmaltz.

I just spied a quote from St. Jane Frances de Chantal: "Hell is full of the talented; heaven of the energetic." If I can bring the two together, following the "both/and" principle of Catholicism evident in both of my motto selections, I might hit the middle ground of Purgatory--and even that is temporary in favor of heaven.

Moving back to the Gospel of God, I include here my homily from this morning, in which I tried to tie together the readings and saints of the day to my exploits from last night. If we can't view current events--especially music and other cultural expressions--in light of the Gospel, why do we even culture?

Containment Considerations 7: This Time It’s Personal

In my last post, Theophilus, I unpacked Gerard Manley Hopkins’ “The Wreck of the Deutschland.” Here I submit a poiema (Gk, handiwork) a little more personal.

One friend called it a curious thing to be about when bored. After a pause I rather suggest it is an item of culture emerging from leisure. Granted, ecclesiastical heraldry is not everyone’s area of interest, but it has been one of mine since I was a kid.

Back then it was tied up with fantasies of promotion and pageantry; now it exemplifies Job’s longing for his words to be written down (19:23, also in the subheading of this blog). Dangerous, the desire to codify and “emblazon” the self, for words so often fail the Word.

Learning it was not just a thing for bishops lent me some courage to concretize, even this early in life and ministry. Others far younger than I have done so, even “right out of the gate.” Much of it is consistent with the cultivated “brand” so essential for marketing and social media. I shall continue to cherish the photo of my classmate and me prostrating at our Ordination to Priesthood; in a very real sense that is the most personally-revealing image available for me, and my best side as well.

There’s the shield, and the explanation of it. The easiest part is the priest’s black galero (ceremonial clerical hat) from which two tassels suspend. Colors and numbers of tassels differ by ecclesiastical rank or office; priests will use varied elaborate patterns for the cords that extend from the galero.

Everything on the shield is the meaty part. There are persons far more versed than I in these matters, whose opinions I have consulted online unbeknownst to them. They suggest that the shield is not a place to display one’s curriculum vitae or personal preferences (“favorite things“).

The presentation and description below indicate I have not taken that direction. I am not alone, I suspect, in this regard. If it is an offense punishable by law, I extend my hands for the cuffs.

Ever inclined to self-justify, my explanation of the “charges“ (elements) on the shield will reveal the extent of the infraction. A respected brother priest and fellow armiger (arms bearer) related how personal the coat of arms is. The bishop who ordained me uses his as an examination of conscience.

While I had a very intentional layout in mind, I entrusted the depiction of it to Luis Alves of Reidarmas.com, whose portfolio and pricing were equally acceptable. He worked with me, made suggestions based on his knowledge of the craft, and behold, the outcome:

Exceedingly close to my sketch, though far neater.

The official description:

“Front the point of view of the bearer, moving dexter to sinister, right to left:

A field of gules (red) is divided by a vertically flowing river (a pale wavy) of azure (blue) whose banks are argent (silver).

A pair of opposing swords, both silver with gold (or) ornaments, bisect the river diagonally, rising upward from right to left.

Two additional charges: at lower right, a blazing fire of silver; at upper left, a plow of gold.

The black galero with two black tassels, customary of a diocesan priest.”

The motto: profert de thesauro suo nova et vetera (Mt 13:52).

Continuing with my abridged yet amplified explanation:

Red and blue are colors in the Zelonis and Welker family coats of arms, at least according to the online researcher I consulted (not the same one as above). At any rate, they are also the colors of the Saint Clair School District where I attended Kindergarten through Sixth Grade. Saint Clair Catholic (grades 7 and 8) used a lighter blue. The crest of the Diocese of Allentown is predominantly red. One-third of the Lithuanian flag is red, and one-half of Poland’s as well. Blue is the quintessential Marian color.

Silver and gold are used for second and first place respectively—both high ranks, but ranks nonetheless. “Speech is silver, silence is golden,” says the proverb. Brass instruments typically are of one or even both colors. My alma mater, Nativity B.V.M. High School in Pottsville PA, claims gold (as well as green).

As the legend goes, Saint Christopher carried the toddler Jesus across a river, exemplifying priestly, sacrificial love. I enjoy running along rivers and roads.

The bottom, ascending sword recalls the Lithuanian heraldic “vytis” (knight), while the descending sword hearkens to Archangel Michael (the patron of my first parish, in Minersville PA)’s thrust into Satan. The priest preaches the “two-edged sword” known as God’s Word (cf. Heb 4:12).

Verbal and visual creativity accompany the swords crossing the rivers: together they form the ascending “sharp” symbol that indicates a musical note raised one-half step from its standard value. It also reminds of the “pound sign” or “hashtag” used in communications media. My linguistic love (including the language of music) attempts to share “not only the Gospel, but our very selves as well” (1 Thess 2:8).

I have cherished the burning bush of Exodus 3 since finding an icon of it during academic research (in a book). The Fathers of the Church compared Mary’s perpetual virginity to the bush aglow with, yet unconsumed by, divine love. I appreciate the connections between the Scriptures and the Church’s  thinkers and pray-ers.

The plow is a charge on my alma mater St. Charles Borromeo Seminary’s crest. Alves used a different plow, for what it’s worth.

The elevation of golden plow above silver burning bush show how prophetic eloquence, however valuable, is nothing if not subordinated to deeds of love—putting hand to plow (and not looking back in regret as to how I could have said it better!). Since kings—leaders—“cultivate” service by performing and inspiring it, the plow completes the “prophet/priest/king” triad, even if it’s something of a stretch.

The motto was the hardest part to decide even though I came up with it fairly early in the crafting process. Before taking Latin in high school, I would see bishops’ mottos, all wrapped up in ribbons, and try to pronounce and translate them.

How bold it is for people to choose one particular phrase, from Scripture or elsewhere, to summarize or guide their lives! I enjoy reading each armiger’s rationale and weighing its personal applicability. Sometimes I spy a phrase and it becomes my motto du jour, eventually to be consigned to forgetfulness, occasionally to resurface years later; eventually I started to keep a file and highlight possibilities in my Nova Vulgata.

So why this one?

No possibility that I’ve ever considered is without merit, even if another succeeded it moments later. The new ones don’t invalidate the old ones. This pattern reveals a reverence for tradition and innovation, for archival dust and creative juices.

As a writer (“a scribe”), specifically one ordained for priestly service to the Church (the Kingdom in seed form), I am, as Jesus described, “like the head of a household (more so as a pastor, though no less as a teacher or a hospital chaplain) who brings forth from his treasury (thesaurus!) the new and the old.”

Church history has not ignored the testamental overtones of “old and new,” nor do I. Teachers try to present eternal verities in new packaging, to new generations of students, although they often find the older packaging is useful and beautiful as well. Social media, thanks to the current Corona-Crisis, has furnished a new or more frequented mode of operation for most of us to communicate the Gospel and our own “prayers, works, joys, and sufferings of this day.”

Since learning of it early in the seminary, the “Both-And” approach of Catholicism has become very important to me. The divine perspective harmonizes realities that seem contradictory at first, the Incarnation chief among them. How can God also be man? In Christ, He is fully both; to exclude the presence and operation of one nature in favor of the other is not only heresy, it is lunacy.

Human beings likewise must seek the middle path where virtue and sanity often reside, as hope strides the excesses of presumption and despair. It’s not “all on God,” nor is it “all on us.” That virtue registers highly with me: as the sharp sign raises a musical note, so my ministry, music, writing, life are called—in weakness and defeat as well as their opposites—to glorify God and make unto Him a pleasing offering.