Questions… Life is full of them. In the case of the Heralds, for example, some are repeated so habitually that the one being asked is able to guess them on the lips of his interlocutor even before it has been formulated. Undoubtedly, almost every member of this institution will have been plied with the following question: “Why do you wear those clothes?”
Nothing could be more understandable. After all, in the middle of the 21st century, to find men and women, mostly young people, addressing each other with a distinctive language spoken in a clear tone of voice, and walking with their heads held high and a resolute step anywhere, including in the presbytery, may well arouse some astonishment. And in most cases, these attitudes generate a very quick and definite judgement of either admiration or rejection.
The union of religious and military idealized by Msgr. João enchants, dazzles, touches and even draws people towards holiness
It could be said that the sum of all these impressions is condensed in the habit they wear, a garment in which two realities coexist that are so discrepant – in appearance – that, when put together, seem capable of setting off sparks: a scapular with a large cross, a chain of slavery to Our Lady, a beautiful rosary and… boots?
This is a union between the religious and the military reality idealized by Msgr. João, and far from driving Public Opinion away from the Church on account of supposedly being “intolerant”, “rigid” or “sectarian” – as the fundamentalists of dialogue and “mercy” grumble without clemency – in most cases it enchants, dazzles, touches and even draws people towards holiness.
All of this, once again, prompts questions that deserve answers. Questions, questions…
Militarism and faith: a paradox?
In fact, the explanation for this phenomenon is very simple, however much it may shock certain mentalities: behind this lifestyle shines one of the most beautiful aspects of the spirit of Our Lord Jesus Christ.
Indeed, did not the Saviour say in the Gospels: “I have not come to bring peace, but a sword” (Mt 10:34)? And, as the Sacred Liturgy sings, did He not wage a marvellous duel with death, which is perpetuated in history and will culminate in His definitive triumph at the end of time (cf. Rv 17:14)?
The warring spirit is in no way opposed to religion. As the Letter to the Hebrews attests, there are men who, through faith, “became mighty in war, put foreign armies to flight” (11:33-34). In fact, faith implies a struggle, which every Catholic must face in order to gain eternal life (cf. 1 Tm 6:12). “The life of man upon earth is a warfare” (Jb 7:1).
But how does this warfare take place in our day?
The battle of faith today
“Knights present who hear me, listen to the groans of Zion,” cried Blessed Pope Urban II a thousand years ago, when Jerusalem was under the domination of forces mortally hostile to Christianity, and it needed help. The expression seems very illustrative: in every historical period, Zion – in other words, the Holy Catholic Church – groans as she waits for heroes to defend her. The fight of the Christian consists in heeding these calls.
Today, perhaps more than ever, the cries of Christ’s Mystical Bride are heard with piercing anguish. How trifling a threat are the barbarian hordes as compared with the endless legions of external enemies and internal traitors!
Against the triumph of darkness there is no other antidote than men who reveal themselves as the “light of the world.” Now, all luminosity worthy of the name results from a single combustion: that of being on fire for the cause of Religion.
The eulogy of a prince of the Church
One gets the impression that Cardinal Franc Rodé, CM, was harbouring thoughts of this kind when he came to Brazil in 2009 to present the founder of the Heralds with the Pro Ecclesia et Pontifice medal.
He had already been closely acquainted with the institution for two years and, when he presented the award, the then Prefect of the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life said a few words, beginning by recalling a passage from St. Bernard of Clairvaux:
“For some time now, the news has been spreading that a new kind of chivalry has appeared in the world.”1
The Cardinal continued his address by mentioning a “new chivalry”, born from Msgr. João’s “noble heart” and endowed with a “new ideal of holiness and heroic commitment to the Church,” in which he could not help but see an act of Divine Providence, in view of the needs of today’s world.
Everything had been said: at the root of that movement was the fidelity of a man who knew how to say yes to the inspiration of the Spirit, and who had become a warrior for the sake of the Kingdom of Heaven, despite all the sufferings inherent to that condition.
A year of torment
At the dawn of 1958, the day’s duties began for the newly created 7th Company of Guards at the Dom Pedro Park barracks in São Paulo. The clock struck seven in the morning.
As the officers analysed the ranks of young guardsmen, dressed in the classic service uniform – khaki shirt and trousers, duckbill cap, black boots – it is quite possible that the attention of one of them, endowed with greater psychological acuity, was drawn to a young man of medium height, slim, physically ordinary, but whose eyes and attitude revealed the lucidity of mind and firmness of character typical of idealists.
At the root of the Heralds of the Gospel is the fidelity of a man who said yes to the inspiration of the Spirit and become a warrior for the Kingdom of Heaven
Despite the great promise a military career held for him, the truth was that Private 113 did not want to be there. For alongside these attributes – or rather, hovering above them in a zone inaccessible to the horizon of those officers – were others.
João Scognamiglio Clá Dias – that was his civilian name – belonged to the nascent work of Dr. Plinio Corrêa de Oliveira and, as part of the intense life of piety he cultivated, he already did frequent meditation, prayed the Rosary and received Communion every day. Ever since meeting his spiritual master for the first time, he had given himself over forever to a vocation of a distinctly religious character.
Moreover, the atmosphere in the barracks was bound to cause no little inconvenience. Promiscuous situations, coupled with the indecent conversations of many fellow recruits and other occasions of temptation, forced him to make sacrifices and go to great lengths to remain upright in the faith and in the practice of chastity.
As a result, his companions persecuted him so much that he would spend whole nights sleepless, for fear of what could happen. He even tearfully asked Our Lady to take his soul, because it seemed to him that he did not have the strength to bear that situation, which he himself called “a year of torment”.
Behind the trial, a design
However, we know that every suffering accepted with generosity turns into an opportunity for progress. If “God writes straight in crooked lines,” Private Clá Dias knew how to turn those twisted lines into a broad avenue towards sanctity… an unprecedented form of sanctity!
Realizing that he was destined to stay there for a whole year, he decided to make every effort to learn the duties of a soldier as well as possible, because he would use them for the apostolate. Little by little, the new impressions unveiled before that young soul a philosophy of life.
First and foremost, it was the discipline that shone before his eyes. A soldier only had to turn up with a button missing from his shirt or to be seen on the streets after 22:00 hours to be immediately sent to “solitary” …
Soldiers also learned to cope with all kinds of adverse situations, subjecting their bodies completely to the demands of duty. They carried out exercises and heavy labour, including walks of up to thirty hours, with rucksacks, boots and rifles. Dispensation from activities due to illness were regulated by the thermometer: if the fever did not pass 37º, the soldier still had to remain on duty with everyone else… and only when it reached 37.5º could he retire.
It was undoubtedly a harsh regime, designed for forming tough men – perhaps even too tough, for someone who has the vocation to be the father of a spiritual family. Fortunately, in Msgr. João’s case, this firmness was grounded in the gentleness of the friends of Our Lord Jesus Christ.
Catholic as a military man, militant as a Catholic
The soldier Clá Dias, let us not forget, was a daily Communicant.
Decades after his military service, he would recall the effort he made to obtain authorization from the officers to approach the Eucharistic table on the occasions when he had to stay overnight in the barracks, and the unusual scene of a young soldier being driven in an army jeep to the Cathedral and entering it in uniform, with a 45 pistol and a truncheon, to receive the Blessed Sacrament. On another occasion, he made a similar move to obtain a dispensation to go on a spiritual retreat for a few days.
“God writes straight in crooked lines”: during his military service, soldier Clá Dias found a way to turn those twisted lines into a broad avenue towards an unprecedented form of sanctity
In the end, leaving aside the problems mentioned earlier, life in the barracks won him over: he loved the rifle with the attached bayonet, the marching, the orders of command and the discipline. Above all, he marvelled at how the principles derived from martial wisdom could be an instrument of sanctification for himself and others.
On the day he was discharged from compulsory service, having already been promoted to corporal and decorated with the Marechal Hermes medal, the barracks commander, Ivan de Andrade, called him aside for a chat. The ex-soldier was wearing a jacket and tie and had a Marian congregation badge on his lapel. As they walked along, the officer pointed to the small insignia and said: “Now I understand where all your valour comes from!”
He then offered him a place at the Agulhas Negras Military Academy, promising the young man a brilliant career in the Armed Forces. João had adapted so well to military life that the offer represented a real temptation. Fortunately, his veneration for the Church and for Dr. Plinio had already engaged him in another, loftier war…
The providential nature of military service
Given the fact that Dr. Plinio’s group did not yet have the martial aspect that was soon to characterize it, whenever Msgr. João passed by the barracks, his eyes would tear up with nostalgia for that life of combativeness.
This ordeal lasted about five years, until at last he came into contact with the notes of a meeting given by Dr. Plinio, in which he spoke of his desire to constitute his work as a true order of chivalry, with the adaptations appropriate to the times.
Much more than a prediction, for the young knight those words were a promise.
Right there, the long process that would chisel the work into that form began. The symposiums that would go down in the Group’s history were promoted under the name ‘Itaqueras’, in reference to the São Paulo neighbourhood in which the house where they were held was located.
The discipline that governed the timetables and activities of the young people already included something military, inspired by the example of the Marines2 and the experiences acquired by Msgr. João during his service in the 7th Company of Guards.
The “Itaqueras” began with a meeting in which the importance of readiness, promptness, detachment from self and egoism was explained, as well as the need to prepare for events that the future might bring.
Then, in addition to catechetical instruction, the programme included doctrinal debates and intellectual or physical training, often at unannounced moments, in which unconditionality was particularly stressed. […] This virtue was presented as the pinnacle of the military spirit and the essential characteristic of a perfect slave of Mary, who should be ready to do anything, at any time, without imposing conditions on his dedication and his obedience.”3
According to Dr. Plinio, the “Itaqueras” were a happy extension of his daily system of formation: “It had the value of seriousness, in the recognition of man’s insufficiency and, therefore, of the need for method. And this also happens in the formation of the will: it is the resolution to acquire reflexes, to become flexible, quick, decisive, to “get on with it” and to be capable of sacrifices of every kind.”4
Institutions with an accentuated chivalric note
From that moment on, a series of symbols and institutions with an accentuated chivalric note began to emerge in the movement. There was the red cape, the march step with its firm and noble character, the habit…
Particularly noteworthy was the foundation of the Hermitage of São Bento, in which a spiritual style, a school of thought and a mentality of its own would flourish, capable of forming the slave of Mary, warrior and monk, the Apostle of the Latter Times spoken of by St. Louis Grignion de Montfort. This little handful of men would be the matrix of something that would spread the good odour of Our Lord Jesus Christ over the face of the earth.
Msgr. João transposed the military experience he gained in the army to Dr. Plinio’s work, so as to build up the order of chivalry long dreamed of by his father and founder
After the passing of his master and guide, Msgr. João managed to accomplish even greater feats: the creation of an army of virgins and a battalion of priests, enriching the admirable symbiosis between chivalry and religion, whereby both shine inseparably, whether in the splendour of the ceremonies, the zeal of the pulpits or even the reserved loyalty of the confessionals.
To sum up, we can apply some of Dr. Plinio’s words about his work to Msgr. João, because it was through him that it became “a version in contemporary terms of the spirit of the Christian knight of old: in idealism, ardour; in treatment, courtesy; in action, boundless devotion; in the presence of the adversary, circumspection; in the fight, boldness and courage; and, through courage, victory!”
Chivalry, an unfinished marvel
Is that all? Was not Cardinal Rodé talking about a new chivalry in the speech mentioned above? What is really new in Msgr. João’s work that renders it something other than a rehash of past institutions, and instead one that points to the future?
“It is not good that the man should be alone” (Gn 2:18). This verse from the first book of Revelation expresses a rule of divine “architectonics” in the universe: God wanted some of the most sublime realities to reach their plenitude only when united to others.
Thus, when analysing the history of chivalry in broad strokes, one is left with the impression of standing before an ogive that is still waiting to receive its capstone. Stunning epics such as those of King St. Louis, Baldwin IV of Jerusalem and St. Joan of Arc emerge here and there like foreshadowing clarions in a melody and rhythm of expectation, which rises in the desire to kiss Heaven.
On the other hand, the countless episodes of angelic appearances in wars, from the mysterious “commander of the army of the Lord” (Jos 5:14) seen by Joshua on the eve of the invasion of Jericho, or the white steed with golden weapons at the head of the Maccabees (cf. 2 Mac 11:8), to the heavenly charges narrated in the medieval chronicles, suggest that there is a reciprocity, a kind of avidness from on High to unite with the chivalry of men.
In the militia of the Lion of Judah, Angels and men share the same battlefield and close ranks in the same charge, sharing the same weapons, combat and glory
One of the first symbols of the Order of the Templar – two knights sharing the same mount – seems to be the heraldic expression of this longing of the universe for a union that will only be fully realized at the end of time, when Jesus Christ, the Divine Knight with a sword in His mouth, descends from Heaven welcomed by what the Book of Revelation calls the “armies of Heaven” (19:14), without distinguishing between Angels and men.
Yes, in the militia of those who follow the Lion of Judah, both angelic and human creatures share the same theatre of battle, they close ranks in the same charge, in short, they have weapons, combat and glory in common.
How can we fail to see the coincidence between this reality and Msgr. João’s desire to sacralize the apostolate and life of the Heralds of the Gospel in military principles, down to the smallest detail? It is a tactic of spiritual combat; we must not hide the lamp under a bushel. And thanks to it, the beginnings of an authentic angelic chivalry took shape.
What more is there to say? With what decoration should this knight be awarded, who made his entire life an epic in favour of the Faith? Cardinal Franc Rodé, whose words we remember once again, seems to have found a fitting formula: “Thank you, Monsignor, for your noble commitment, thank you for your holy audacity, thank you for your passionate love for the Church, thank you for the splendid example of your life. You are of the race of heroes and saints!” ◊
Notes
1 ST. BERNARD OF CLAIRVAUX. De laude novæ militiæ, n.1. In: Obras Completas. 2.ed. Madrid: BAC, 1993, v.I, p.496.
2 The United States Marine Corps is a branch of the American Armed Forces that functions as an amphibious force in naval operations. At the end of the 1960s, a magazine containing an article about this elite corps fell into Msgr. João’s hands and served as inspiration for the “Itaqueras”.
3 CLÁ DIAS, EP, João Scognamiglio. O dom de sabedoria na mente, vida e obra de [The Gift of Wisdom in the Mind, Life and Work of] Plinio Corrêa de Oliveira. Cità del Vaticano-São Paulo: LEV; Lumen Sapientiæ, 2016, v.IV, p.364-365.
4 Idem, p.365.
