THE READING WAS Chapter 19, Item 23: The Praesidium is a Presence of Mary. As president of the Tower of Ivory, there was never a question in Ate Gel’s choice of topic for discussion and reflection. It is more of the latter, really, that draws the attention and contemplation of the congregants.
I will parse her reflection by way of a piece-meal presentation of what could’ve been an orderly narrative had I taken notes (instead of fret and fuss in my head what I was going to delve into).
Ate Gel began by supposing that the family is called the domestic church, the basic unit where we first encounter Christ, Mary, and the saints. By that token, the praesidium is the basic unit of the Legion of Mary, where we first encounter the spiritual principles of life and renewal thereof. In other words, we in the office help Mary, who is to bestow life and renewal through spiritual works of mercy. For purposes of discussion, she posed to us the question why is a praesidium named after a Marian title.
Sis Gelly’s response always carries with it the responsibility carved through ages of being in the blue army of Mary (note how canny army effortlessly scrambles into Mary). All her daughters share Sis Gel’s advocacy which Sis Gelly all nursed them with.
When I was asked, my meager notes did not give me ample bravado but it was comforting to hold on to them. I said “Why not.” and qualified Mary’s title as a perfect attribute. And rambled according to my scribbling.
Kuya Jopet gave his ten cents thus: (speaking of which, I’m a fine one to boost Kuya Jopet’s stage fright when I am at a loss myself without my security scribblings.) Mama Mary is not hard to find, he said, and is always willing to help us. Like the memorare prayer, she will always help and protect us. No matter what may happen in our lives, therefore, we must always put our trust and faith in God, through her.
Moving on with Ate Gel, a Marian title carries a specific devotion. As an example, her personal favorite is “Our Lady of Mercy,” as it was the name of her first Catholic school. She grew up admiring Mary’s specific characteristic of being merciful which is easily seen in the way she holds her cloak to shelter people seeking refuge. In Mary’s other images, her cloak is held by her angels when she’s carrying the infant Jesus. But as Madonna of Mercy, she tells her that the lost and the least would always find a home in her.
A praesidium is named after a Marian title to carry with it a specific devotion and characteristic. Our praesidium is Tower of Ivory. She recalled Bro Ed facilitating the activity where they had to think of the name for the praesidium. She was with the founding members and wrote “Mary Seat of Wisdom;” Bro Carl wrote the winning entry. She doesn’t know how Bro Ed felt at that time, but it was probably the Holy Spirit’s nudge that made him agree to “Tower of Ivory.”
Biblically speaking, the reference was the Song of Solomon. From Solomon’s many spouses (he had 70!), the king was smitten by a certain someone whose neck was like an ivory tower. So how did it become a Marian title? Well, the Song of Solomon is a reference to the indissoluble union between Christ and his Church. Since Mary was made the mother of the Church at the foot of the passion of her Head, it’s automatic that her attributes would include the Tower, without the sensual connotation.
If Christ is the head and the Church is the body, Mary is between those essential parts; she is the neck. Maybe this is the reason why we call her Mediatrix of all graces, being the go-between of Christ and the Church or, in this specific title, the bridge between them. As she wrote her reflection, Ate Gel gushed her amazement at the majesty of our praesidium’s name. The specific responsibility given to us as inspired by this title is to be a bridge. A formidable title and responsibility. Exactly like how Mary stood steadfast with both, with her Son, even in His most difficult times, even unto expiry.
She recalled how funny our discussion went two weeks ago, when we shared how frustrated some of us have become by the way the pandemic is being (mis)managed by our government. Yet we are called to be like Mary, the Ivory Tower, who specifically showed this attribute at the foot of the cross when everybody else abandoned the Crucified. She personally thought that this formidable attitude is something that we Legionaries should project. There was general agreement in the consensual silence that ensued
Somewhere in her sharing, I picked up her mention of the dwindling membership of the Tower of Ivory which I described as better than dead because I had the unassailable confidence that, as certain as a Legionary once is always one, the Legion of Mary, as an international association of members of the Roman Catholic Church, who serve it on a voluntary basis, is an extraordinary conglomeration of lay men and women. Founded in Dublin, Ireland, as a Roman Catholic Marian Movement by layman and civil servant Frank Duff, its active and auxiliary (praying) members today make up a total of over 10 million worldwide, making it the largest apostolic organization of lay people in the Catholic Church. Talk about formidable.
But let me downplay the statistics, since Ate Gel’s ‘dwindling’ membership (in the parish) was ‘dismally’ set against the staggering worldwide whopper (rightfully decimating it, albeit sans malice). No number, however, can claim dominion over the faith that more than a decade now has kept the loyal originals together, as Ate Gel and namesake Sis Gel fondly reminisced. How perfect, I thought, that our TOI president picked out praesidium as the point of the handbook study. How richly recollective as well.
By unassailable confidence in the Legion, what I meant exactly was that I used to be a member of the Annunciation (where I cooled down and returned twice due to ambivalence) and, having the final announcement made (like the Word of Cardinal Tagle exposed), moved up to the Tower to fulfill my always-ness. It seemed ordained, I dared declare, because I am of the tower, if one were to allude to my family name. Then, too, it is no accident that the Theology of St. Joseph has not only taken flight recently but also claimed this year as his. Sending me over the moon because of the prospect that, if he would be exalted to an army’s headship, he would naturally be assigned praesidia and, I could not hold my excitement any longer, “Terror of Demons” would be a shoo-in, my favored title in his litany. I speculate that it stands to symmetry. She is a tower of ivory while her chaste spouse is the terror of demons. From tower to terror; wasn’t she the captor of the snake of sin and, now, her protector-spouse the able defender of battle against the snares and wickedness of the devil? I can think of other alliterative additives to tower-torre-terror but will get a hold of myself lest I get lost in the tongue-twister and trash this treatise.
Incidentally, I will no longer apologize for future chances to speak randomly since my perceived inadequacies are not taken seriously by my praesidium fellows (they don’t see my belly butterflies is why). Especially when Ate Gel seems to have established spinning the wheel as the norm for making the sharing a tad thrilling. Truth to tell, I’d be sad, I think, if the wheel’s arrow didn’t point at me. I’ve come to grow in the parachute-less jumping, confident without my erstwhile notes, however sorry I stopped taking them because I could not have completed this narrative had not Ate Gel supplied me with pages off her spiritual journal. Which she just did, putting on this a lid.
But not without making mention of Sis Gel’s apology for her sometimes lukewarm faith (countenanced by missing a meeting sometimes owed to her two kids being a handful) because lukewarm faith does not glow and radiate, like she was glowing and radiating during her sharing. Which is why I posited, nay, promised she will never want in it. Particularly when she is not preoccupied with (overstaying) grief.
I watched Carrot as a little girl catechist active and all over in church activities and, when I wasn’t looking, she was already with us on the Cenacle discussing Marian spirituality. This third generation Davide used to mesmerize me with her no-nonsense singing with the choir and catechizing littler girls later and how my septuagenarian presence figured in their young company is a lovely mystery better left unearthed. With the prayerful effort expended instead on the advancement of St. Joseph’s militia and the attendant formation of his praesidia. What a worthwhile perspective to pray for to be an immanence. All in the thriving year of Mary’s chaste partner.
My age disappears whenever I’m in the company of Mary’s blue army. For when I’m not, I turn to “Consecration to St. Joseph,” and bask in the wonders of our spiritual father. Then as a refresher, I revisit the pages of “The Life of Mr. Louis Marie Grignon de Montfort,” the gloriously humble worm whose influence blessed me to be interconnected in God’s wondrous web of life. Amen.