This post contains affiliate or associate links with several businesses (which means if you shop through the links, I earn a small commission). As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases.
This essay was published in the 1932-33 Saint Joseph’s Preparatory School’s Chronicle Magazine. William Gould (my paternal Grandfather) was an editor and wrote this essay.
The Irony of the Cross
The Exaltation of the Holy Cross presents in its background, one of those peculiar ironies which God, in His Providence, has permitted in order to confound that detestable vice of pride.
The events which led to the finding of the Cross are, for the most part, commonplace enough, but the climax has resulted in one of the most pronounced rejections of selfish ambition that the world ever witnessed.
Helena, a poor innkeeper’s daughter marries an officer of Rome
This climax had its root in the obscure hills of Bithynia, where Constantius Chlorus, an officer of Imperial Rome, first beheld Helena, the poor innkeeper’s daughter. The modest and fair Helena won the affection of the Stoic, yet proud general and he made her his wife. The years which immediately followed were happy ones for the noble Roman and his peasant wife. Then came the birth of their son, Constantine, who was fated to turn the bloody tide of Roman persecution which was threatening the dissolution of an already degenerated state. Both mother and father watched with equal pride the maturing years of their only son.
Proud Ambition Stifles Love
We next behold this happy trio under circumstances that are less consoling. The Empire had been divided. The emperor, Maximian had offered that part of the Empire, which comprised of Britain, Spain and Gaul to Constantius Chlorus, but with characteristic enterprise he had made the marriage of Theodora, his daughter, to Chlorus a necessary condition for acquiring this high position. Proud ambition stifled Chlorus’ love for his wife and the governor divorced her, much to the grief of his son, who could not bear the slight cast upon the mother, whom he passionately loved. Helena again receded into the shadows, shadows deeper than those cast by her native Bithynian hills.
Constantine: a devoted son and military hero
But her devoted son, Constantine, was meanwhile gaining great military fame and was rapidly rising to the head of the Empire.
Then one day, in the midst of a fierce battle, a luminous sign, a cross flashed across the heavens before the dazed vision of the Emperor Constantine and the instant lightning etched above the apparition these mystic words:
“In Hoc Signo Vinces”
The Eagle had won its last battle and the Cross had won its first. The mighty emperor confided his secret vision to his peasant mother and sowed the first seed of a sanctity that was to live forever. The pagan Helena who had held herself in obscurity, emerged into the new-born Empire, a Christian.
Then she, too, was blessed in a dream with the happy vision of the cross and was commissioned to make a pilgrimage to the Holy Land where where she should find the true Cross.
Saint Helena art by Heather Sleightholm, this image can be purchased in her Etsy shop: Sleightholmfolk
Despite her years she promptly set out on her tedious journey and realized the fulfillment of her vision. After a long sojourn in and about the Holy Land she returned home and died in her son’s arms. She was buried with pompous ceremony and laid in state among the greatest figures of that world ruling Empire.
But herein lies the contrast. Helena, the poor peasant girl who was brought out of obscurity into high station as the wife of one of the nobles of the Empire, is rejected and cast into obscurity again by the pride of her husband.
But through the respect and devotion of her son she is again raised to the pinnacle of fame in Empire and finally rests in the Vatican as one of the greatest saints of the early Church.
But the bones of Constantius Chlorus are last remembered as resting at York in a small Church, of the pre-Reformation period, bearing the name of his saintly spouse. There he rested obliterated by the deserved praises of his wife and a fitting example of humiliated pride.
Did Saint Helena “stalk” my grandfather?
Sometimes, the Saints find us and intercede for us. I’ve experienced this myself with Our Lady of Guadalupe (read about that here) and have heard quite a few other people share similar stories where people have felt “stalked” by a Saint.
Since I have the privilege of seeing this essay written by a teenager in the early 20th century and know how his life followed until his death in 1992 – it’s remarkable to see how this Saint would have taken a special interest in my Grandpop.
Saint Helena is the patron of saint of difficult marriages and divorced people.
In a time when divorce was rare, my Grandfather was familiar with it in a way most of his peers were not. His father and mother divorced when he was 10 years old. I was told that he could have attended Saint Joseph’s University – he was offered a full scholarship. But, since he lived with his mother he was considered the man of the house and had to choose employment over education. The need for financial security was exasperated since these years were during the Great Depression.
Ironically, I think years later his parents ended up getting back together.
Perhaps knowing that Saint Helena was the patron of divorced people caught his interest since his own parents, who he loved very much, were divorced.
However, my grandfather wrote this essay about eight years before he met his wife, Helen Rose.
The year this essay was written, my Grandmother, Helen, was an eighth grade student in Saint Helena’s School in Philadelphia.
William and Helen were married in September of 1942, right before my grandfather was deployed to serve in Germany in what is known in history as World War II.
Much like her son Constantine, my grandfather saw the terror of war up close. I remember him telling me: “war is hell”.
Years later some of his grandchildren, myself being one, would also attend Saint Helena’s School.
I had a special fondness for my Grandpop Gould. Unfortunately he passed away when I was a sophomore in high school. He was the first grandparent I lost.
I can’t help but smile when I think – maybe my inclination to reflect upon our faith through writing is something that comes in part, from him.
Do you like Prayer Wine and Chocolate? Support this blog and shop!
