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.

Just Another, Unintended, Vocations Homily

There was a significant number of young people at my second Mass yesterday morning. It turns out that several of them had attended a parishioner's wedding the day before. Hearing and reading these readings for the third time in less than 24 hours, I set aside my notes and this is what more or less came out. As I continue to reconstruct that homily, the more it is becoming a paraphrase and even something considerably different. Ah, well.

I was happy to see this church full when I arrived at the altar, especially noting the young adults who are here. I can't help but suspect that, somewhere in the assembly, there is at least one vocation to the priesthood or consecrated life.

I often wonder what keeps that from happening: the desire for worldly success, or for grandchildren, or possibly the fear of such a commitment? Here's Solomon at the threshold of ruling over Israel, dumbfounded. "All these people, all this responsibility! How am I going to do this?"

The answer: he's not. Here as always, credit is due to God "whose power at work within us can do immeasurably more than we can ask or imagine" (Eph 3:20), if we but ask.

Earlier in Hebrew history, Moses became overwhelmed by the prospect of liberating his people from Egyptian slavery to the point of refusing outright. Later in the saga, he became so fed up with the people's wilderness whining that, eventually, he pleaded for support; and this came in the form of seventy elders.

To accomplish the task at hand, we must rely on the Lord and on others--the two sources of assistance are not incompatible.

"Those he called, he also justified" (Rom 8:30b). God dares not wait for us to become worthy or acceptable in order to entrust us with our life's tasks. Rather, He justifies us--sets us straight--and this is not a "once-and-done" action on God's part. It can't be, only because we so often knock ourselves out of alignment by sin.

The priests I've known from my earliest years did not give me the impression that the priesthood would be an impossible calling for me. That's no insult to them; if anything it's a testament to how effortlessly, though imperfectly, they celebrated the Sacraments, proclaimed the Gospel, and gave people care and direction; and all because of God's power at work in them--and all because of the personal gifts they placed at the service of God and people.

This area traditionally was known for the production of many religious vocations. In bygone days there were many more children in general; that change is worth a homily of its own! But we can't rest on our laurels; we can't base our reputation on yesterday's vocations. Yes, Jesus promised that He'd be with the Church until the end of days; but there needs to be serious, prayerful consideration of this calling right now.

Working persons are the basis for "Social Security"; they are the living guarantee that the nation and her citizens will go on. So, too, we need faithful, passionate Catholics who invest in the Church's physical and spiritual flourishing.

I am in fact convinced that some of you are called to total and immediate service of the Church, in much the same way that a man forsakes all other women for the knowledge and choice of this particular woman. We take inspiration from Our Lord's comparison of the Kingdom to a treasure that is worth the sale of all our possessions. Is it worth it? You bet it is!

What A Holy Order!

For all the technological progress that humanity has made in the past decades, we have yet to bridle our stubborn spirits. In our relative ease, it's easy to see this on a large scale with the volatile governments of Ukraine and Venezuela, or the senseless, horrific things that happen on our own shores; but we must first, and always, look within. We can be quick to emit our venom; or if our so-called civility urges restraint, the poison may ooze forth in words and glances.

Mosaic Law had called for “an eye for an eye” in order to avert disproportionate punishments. Even in Jesus’ own day, Herod granted the head of John the Baptist to declare his delight for a dirty dancer! Therefore Jesus’ coming was most opportune, with its invitation to espouse a new perspective, a new respect: a new Law to be written upon our hearts, written by our hearts onto the hearts of others.

What great courage and resolve the Lord requires, to be “holy” and “perfect” as the Father is! Most of us wilt in the face of such an invitation. Jesus doesn’t rush to soften the blow of the challenge; instead, He doubles down in His attempts to impress upon us a higher calling, to “turn the other cheek,” “go the extra mile,” “love your enemies” and all that nonsense.

Yeah, that’s right. You heard me call it “nonsense.” When we fudge on Jesus’ commandment of sacrificial love, when we make exceptions in our minds for certain ones on our list whom we fancy or whom we don’t, when we avoid the people and situations that might upset our delicate balance or inconvenience our schedules, we’re essentially throwing it all out, calling it nonsense.

We more likely consider growth in virtue as something we agree with and admire, and on good days strive to undertake, but no less a struggle. Persons in recovery are familiar with a certain line from the  "Big Book" of Alcoholics Anonymous: "What an order! I can't go through with it!" As often as the difficulty hits us, we can take a deep breath, find support from God and others, and march on.

"You'll be better before you're married," they used to say upstate.

To be fair, defiance isn’t always on our minds; but self-interest certainly tends to be. The Lord encourages us not to cling excessively to how we think our lives should unfold each day, and who deserves our time and attention, in favor of His sometimes distressing, but always fulfilling, surprises.

How can we possibly fulfill God’s command to be holy? Because we are holy. “Do you not know,” Paul asks, “that you are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwells in you?” No conditions are mentioned. What a consolation, that God wouldn’t lead us where His grace wouldn’t feed us. So go ahead: write that Law of sacrificial love—write it in big letters with flourishes!

Persons, Persistent and Persecuted

As a "verbivore," I devour words. In this respect I am not unlike the prophet Jeremiah, who said:

"When I found your words, I devoured them; they became my joy and the happiness of my heart, because I bore your name, Lord God of hosts" (15:16)

Nom

Scanning the Scripture readings from this past Sunday, I noticed two words: persistence and persecution. They share the prefix per, which means “through” or “thorough.” The base words are sistere, “to stand,” and sequi, “to follow.” As far as I know, they do not exist by themselves; that is to say, we don’t just “sist” or “secute.” Why stand, if you don’t stand firm, and why follow, if you don’t follow all the way, or follow through? 

Another meaning of sequi is "to pursue," which intensifies the action of following. In the famous 23rd psalm, the line "Only goodness and kindness follow me all the days of my life" could also be rendered, "Only goodness and kindness pursue me." Uh oh--look out for goodness--it's on your tail!" It reminds me of a quote from the author J. D. Salinger: "I am a kind of paranoid in reverse. I suspect people of plotting to make me happy."

But that’s not how a great many of us look at this life. “When’s the next shoe gonna drop?” “I can’t handle this!” “Won’t these people just leave me alone?” “It’s so hard to shake this bad habit.” And where is God in it all? Life oftentimes feels like a persecution.

There are parts of the world where Catholics and other followers of Christ are still being persecuted to the shedding of their blood; but the more prevalent form of persecution consists in pesky temptations and thoughts of how awful we’re doing, of how much better off he has it, how much holier she is. If persecutions are persistent, we must be, too.

Such is the example of the Gospel widow who obtains a favorable judgment, and of Moses who secures the Israelites’ victory over Amalek in the first reading. We must be careful not to treat prayer as a tool for getting God to smooth out our lives and give us what we want, even when we are kind enough to pray for other people’s needs. The importance of these passages, and therefore the importance of prayer, lies not in the outcome but in the attitude; and not even so much in the attitude as in the Power Source.

With every technological advance in the world we have not witnessed the end of disease or mishap. We have not been able to pray sin out of existence. Our own lives can testify to these facts, both in terms of what we have done and what we have experienced.

The life of faith urges us not to abandon the efforts of prayer and service, because every prayerful word and work is an investment in a personal relationship. More than an exercise in interpersonal communication, our prayer may rather resemble a visit to a vending machine. You don’t enter into a relationship with a vending machine! 

Well, maybe this vending machine.

Person: a third "per" word, added this time onto sonare, "to sound." In olden theatre, actors wore masks, through which they expressed ("sounded") the characters they played. Persons know and are known, love and are loved—and the Holy Trinity is a communion of Persons who have chosen to share their life and love with the human race. By entering freely and consciously into prayer, it’s as if we are “charging and syncing our device” with the mind, heart, and will of our God. This results in a deepening of our personhood (understanding and freedom), in a greater sense of our value in our Father’s world and in the lives of others.

Like Moses, we must remember that we do not and cannot pray alone. In the Church’s communal prayer and personal prayer, we are united with the saints and angels in heaven. We are united with the Sacred Scriptures and the Holy Sacraments. Aaron and Hur were there to lift up their persistent leader’s weary arms. For our part, we ought never be ashamed to seek help from others. We ought never be ashamed to need help; whether we want to need it or not, we do, so why fight it? And if we need it, then it stands to reason that others do, as well, and through our openness to God’s power we may find ourselves in the position to offer that help. What a blessing!