The Infant of Prague

 

This is my own Infant of Prague statue, 

given to me by my Grandmother when I was seven.

History of the Infant Jesus of Prague

From the site: Home 

The original statue of the Infant Jesus of Prague was created as a royal wedding gift from a Spanish Princess to her Austrian royal cousin. The statue of the Infant is a slender and beautifully-modeled figure and is carved of wood thinly coated with wax, standing nineteen inches tall, with the left foot barely visible under a long white tunic. The left hand encircles a miniature globe, surmounted by a cross, signifying the world-wide kingship of the Christ Child. The right hand is extended in blessing with the first two fingers being upraised to symbolize the two natures of Christ, while the folded thumb and last two fingers touch each other representing the unity of the Father, The Son, and the Holy Spirit in the mystery of the Blessed Trinity.

The face has a strange power of evoking sentiments of deep gratitude of the mystery of God-made-Man. For all His majestic posture and regal attire, the little King of Prague is more striking for His outward expression of human littleness than by the impression of hidden greatness. The wardrobe of the Infant is similar to the priest’s alb: one is of white linen, the other is of lace. Covering these is a dalmatic made of silk or velvet over which is worn a cape. It represents the Infant Jesus dressed in royal robes, wearing a crown. He is King of the Universe.

Later, the statue had been discarded in war and His hands destroyed. Found by a Carmelite, he fixed the hands and placed the statue in a place of honor in the Carmelite Church in Prague, Czech Republic.

In 1637, as Fr. Cyril prayed before the Infant, he was filled with wonder, contemplating the loving God Who became a child for His people. 

Suddenly, the statue spoke to the stunned Carmelite: “Have mercy on Me and I will have mercy on you. Give Me hands and I will give you peace. The more you honor Me, the more I will bless you.”

Many miracles have occurred through intercession to the Divine Infant. During one invasion, all the children of the city were taken to the Church for protection—praying to the Infant, they were all saved. For almost four centuries, this promise of protection and blessing has inspired devotion and love of the Infant Jesus of Prague.

The home of the Infant Jesus of Prague is in the city of Prague, which is the capital of the Czech Republic. The original statue has been restored and preserved in the Carmelite church of Our Lady of Victory. The Church was returned to the Carmelites after the fall of Communism. The statue provides spiritual uplift for millions of people who have adopted the Holy Infant’s call to humility, simplicity, and sincerity and to become little in order to become great and pleasing before Christ the King.

Devotion to the Miraculous Infant Jesus celebrates the “Child of God”—the great mystery of the Incarnation. The child in all of us believes in the humanity and divinity of Christ and rejoices in God’s caring and protective love for us. The Infant reminds us that God is holding us in the palm of His hand.

The effective spiritual meditation is the reason why the Infant Jesus of Prague is so continuously appealing to human hearts all over the world, which he has so firmly in His hands. You can find His statue in almost any church, convent, monastery and house, representing a Divine Protection toward His devotees.

"Rudy" of the Univ. of Notre Dame football team and Iconic Realism

Daniel E. Ruettiger, "Rudy" of the 1975 Notre Dame football team (Google Images) 

                                                 

'Rudy' portrayed by Sean Astin in the film (Google Images)

In the film, Rudy, Daniel E. Ruettiger's dream of becoming a member of the iconic Notre Dame football team illustrates iconic realism in that this student, a most iconic, unlikely candidate for achievement at the prestigious University of Notre Dame, placed himself in such a candidacy through his perseverance. This action led to successful achievement of his personal goals. Rudy wasn't the highest achieving student, so no one in his family thought he could achieve this goal of attending the Univ. of Notre Dame, let alone play on the football team, but he was determined, and that determination was an inspiration. The film, portraying his struggle to achieve his goals, has become an American classic, illustrating the cultural belief that a stalwart commitment to a positive dream can contribute to its becoming a reality. 

Humbly, I am thankful to the University of Notre Dame for housing my book in their library. 

You can hear me explain this analysis on my Podomatic page by clicking HERE. 

Fourth Week of Advent, and looking forward to 2026

As the final week of Advent 2025 arrives, I am concluding my obligations at the university, and finally, I have the time to enjoy the splendor of peace and preparation for the Christmas season and the beginning of a New Year. Although we only have a dusting of snow on the ground, we've been promised by the meteorologists that snow is on its way. Therefore, I fill my heart and mind with gratitude for health, love, music, and joy in my life as I prepare for this festive end to 2025. 

Wishing you all a blessed Holiday Season!

Charles Schulz's 'A Charlie Brown Christmas' and Iconic Realism

Click HERE to view a scene from the show.

Photo from Google Images of Charles Schulz's 

A Charlie Brown Christmas

A Charlie Brown Christmas by Charles Schulz illustrates iconic realism in that Schulz creates a film with  children, iconic representatives of the Christmas season. These children, however, are independent of adult supervision as they prepare a presentation of the meaning of Christmas for an iconic Holiday performance. 

Through his humble choice of a Christmas tree, the character, Charlie Brown, demonstrates the seasonal message of hope and love while the other children learn that through collaboration they, too, are able to understand the profound seasonal message of good will as they create a delightful celebration of Christmas.

May you all be blessed with a lovely Holiday season!

To hear my reading of this, just click HERE.

Iconic Realism in Three Different Centuries of Art: 13th, 16th, and 20th

13th century: depiction of Jean de Meun's Roman de la Rose (photo from Google Images)

 16th century: Pieter Breughel's painting, The Fall of Icarus (photo from Google Images)

20th century: Salvador Dali's Rose (photo from Google Images)

The above paintings, from top to bottom: an illustration from the medieval poem, Roman de la Rose, Breughel's Fall of Icarus and Dali's Rose, are examples of artistic renderings of this theory. The function of semiotic representation is the reflection of the society in which both the artist and the audience reside. However, the artistic rendering does not necessarily reflect the standard of that community, for the intention of the artist may well be to create a piece that jolts the audience into a need for cultural change. This would be the reason for an artist employing the use of iconic realism, assisting the audience to become adroitly aware of that aspect of the culture with which they are familiar and its need for transformation.

In Jean de Meun's epylion, Roman de la Rose, a young man is attracted to a 'rose' representing a young woman. The iconic image is the rose, living in a guarded tower. This rose becomes the object of the young man's desire and purpose, but not until he first receives much advice from wise allegorical characters on how to win her heart. The realistic environment in which this wild rose lives illustrates that creating a fortress around those natural impulses only causes the impulse within one's heart to become more instinctively determined.  

In Pieter Breughel's painting, The Fall of Icarus, the spirit of rebellion reveals young Icarus, falling into the sea while the local community turns their attention away from his plight. Here, the self-absorbed society's rejection of the obvious need illustrates a necessity for humanity to attend to others' frailties when they are obviously seeking genuine help. 

Rose by Salvador Dali illustrates an iconic image of a rose, suspended in mid-air above an arid landscape. A small, barely visible and iconic young couple, hold hands amid this arid landscape. This positioning demonstrates that the outer revelation of love can occasionally become even greater, more lovely than those experiencing this emotion could imagine. 

Alice McDermott's novel, 'At Weddings and Wakes' and Iconic Realism: Doors

As my #37 bus passed by this section of Dublin, these doors always intrigued me.

From a paper presented at the American Conference for Irish Studies, Emory Univ., Atlanta, Georgia: 

Alice McDermott incorporates the iconic figure of a door, as a primary trigger of childhood memories in her novel, At Weddings and Wakes. Usually, a door is the iconic representation of a threshold, transporting either the characters or the reading audience to a new episode or revelation. However, McDermott’s doorways represent stability, a way for a child’s mind to capture a moment in time and hold it in place to reminisce or perhaps learn about oneself or the influential people who enter and leave via the strategically placed doors. For example, she begins the book with a vivid description of the narrator’s childhood front door: 

Twice a week in every week of summer except the last in July and the first in August, their mother shut the front door, the white, eight-panel door that served as backdrop for every Easter, First Holy Communion, confirmation, and graduation photo in the family album, and with the flimsy screen leaning against her shoulder turned the key in the black lock, gripped the curve of the elaborate wrought-iron handle that had been sculpted to resemble a black vine curled into a question mark, and in what seemed a brief but accurate imitation of a desperate housebreaker, wrung the door on its hinges until, well satisfied, she turned slipped away from the screen as if she were throwing a cloak from her shoulders, and said, “Let’s go.”   

On their odyssey through the city transportation system, the mother and her children encounter the subway entrance, described to reflect the child’s perspective: “And then bars, prison, bars, a wall of bars, and, even more fantastically, a wall of revolving doors all made of black iron (pp. 6-7).”  As they reach the Brooklyn apartment, another vivid description of doors provides the reader with a sense that this memory is one that the child paints in her mind to recall the important relationships of her mother. They connect the mother’s memory with that of the child’s: 

Key in hand, they climbed the steps again and let themselves in through the double glass door framed in heavy wood, across a tiled vestibule that held the cool stone smell of a church, and then into the dim hallway where the air was brown with the reflection of the dark wooden floor and the staircase, with the odor of stewing beef and boiled onions… 

One flight and across a narrow hallway with silent doors on either end, another flight, their mother’s shoes tapping on each tread and the dull yellow light now passing through an opaque lozenge of white skylight. An identical hallway (voices from behind the far door, again those rushed incomprehensible syllables struck throughout with startling exclamations), another flight, the light growing stronger until it spread itself like a blurred hand over the tops of each of the dulled and hazy light there was only a single door and the hallway on either side of it was filed with a clutch of cardboard boxes and paper bags…. (p. 1)

The single door gave off the purr and rattle that made it seem thick and animate to the children, with an internal life all its own. There was the scratch of the delicate chain, the metallic slither of its bolts, the tumble and click of its lock, and then, slowly, the creak of its hinges…. The face that appeared between the door and its frame was thinner than their mother’s and so, for the children, offered no resemblance – despite the same pale blue eyes and light skin and narrow mouth that was, as was their mother’s, fighting to resist a grin. ( pp. 12-13) 

Toward the end of the memoir, the father’s presence reveals a sense of humor in relation to a door, all the while, creating a puzzle in the children’s minds as he points out: 

She and her brother passed the corner parking lo of the Presbyterian church, crossed another side street, and then the catty-cornered doorway of a small bar (about which their father would say, with the same consistency that he made his cemetery joke but with a far more serious air, “ in all the years that we’ve lived here I’ve never passed through those doors,” filling his children with a vague admiration and a cautious sense of gratitude for what it was he had managed to avoid). (p. 151)

The iconic doors lend a sense of spirituality in McDermott’s novel as each door seems to have a personality of its own, a stability that intrigues and stimulates the childhood imagination that seems absent in the adults’ consciousness. This cognizance carved within the various slabs of wood, configured to keep out and keep in, actually create an experiential plane perceived by the children through their senses of sight, smell and especially sound, albeit occasionally, a dissonant harmony prevails between the squeaking movements of the doors’ hinges.