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“Wings Over Hellas”

BY JOHN M DEJAK, J.D., EXECUTIVE DIRECTOR, SECRETARIAT OF CATHOLIC EDUCATION, USCCB

The Winged Victory of Samothrace at the Louvre Museum in Paris (Public domain)

[This piece was originally presented by John M. DeJak, J.D., during the 2025 ICLE National Conference as part of Reflections on the Renewal of Catholic Education during the banquet dinner on Wednesday, July 16, 2025].

The finest intellectual formation in my entire academic career was junior and senior year Greek at Saint Ignatius High School in Cleveland, OH in the early 1990s. Citing Bishop Daly, we were regular Catholic guys: we loved sports—we loved girls even more; we were competitive; we loved arguing; we’d listen to Van Halen and Aerosmith, but Mozart and Bach were also part of our musical repertoire; some of us were pious, most of us were reverent, all of us respectful. A particular focus of our filial piety was the towering figure of Fr. Raymond V. Schoder, S.J.

Fr. Schoder died in 1987, a couple years before we all began high school, but his presence was felt in our classroom as a muse, a mentor, and —in more cases than not — an intercessor. We affectionately referred to him as “Schodes” and a letter from him (in Homeric Greek) to our predecessors at Saint Ignatius was framed on the wall of our classroom. (Heck, one of the guys found an old photo of him and photocopied it for us and his image was put up on one occasion all over the school!)

Why Schodes? Why did this dead priest keep us in thrall? No doubt our instructor Dr. Greg Knittel was responsible for fanning the flames of that sacred fire. Fr. Schoder was not only the priest-author of our text, A Reading Course in Homeric Greek, he was an adventurer, a poet, a professor, and a faithful Jesuit under the banner of the cross. Most famously, he is known for going to Europe shortly after WWII, strapping himself into a military aircraft with bomb bay doors open, and hanging out of the aircraft taking pictures of famous ancient Greek sites—needing to get the perfect shot! This is the stuff of legend! The famous “Schoder’s slides” photographs were finally published as “Wings over Hellas” by Oxford University Press in 1974.

It was this enthusiasm and love for ancient Greek that was the passion of Fr. Schoder, passed down to Dr. Knittel, and then to us. But it wasn’t just the language or Greek culture, it was the camaraderie, the late nights studying and waiting for Bialy’s Bagels to open up at 3 a.m. as we mastered dactylic hexameter; it was the notion of doing something difficult and great—and it was the depth of our cultural, intellectual, and spiritual formation. Essential to all of that, was the teacher.

Paul VI famously stated that “Modern man listens more willingly to witnesses than to teachers, and if he does listen to teachers, it is because they are witnesses.” Schoder’s text is a traditional grammar, but his words in the accompanying essays soared! The integration of the genius of the Greek mind, the sublime poetry of Homer, the baptism of that language by the Apostles, and the excitement of being part of an intellectual heritage spanning two millennia was for us a thrill; Schoder brought that out in his words just as much as did the original Greek text of Homer. But, upon reflection, probably more profound was Dr. Knittel conveying that to us in that classroom at 1911 West 30th Street.

Just recently, I reconnected with a friend of mine from that class — a neurosurgeon — whom I haven’t seen in thirty years. The first topic of conversation was our Greek classes with Dr. Knittel and “old Schodes,” and how, in my friend’s considered opinion, it far surpassed anything he learned in medical school or during his undergraduate years at Yale. I think all of this may be a glimpse of what Chesterton calls the “Inn at the End of the World.” And the taste of this shouldn’t be unique—it’s for everyone! All of our students should fly with “wings over Hellas.”

My charge for tonight was to reflect with Mary Pat Donoghue on the renewal of Catholic Education, and I tell this personal anecdote to illustrate the twin posture to humility that we who are privileged to be in this vocation ought to have: thanksgiving. Our Lord is not outdone in his generosity and he uses anything and everything to bring us to himself. If we know anything from his own self-revelation, it is that he acts quietly and humbly. The Faith and the great tradition of Catholic liberal education which it has birthed has never gone away.

Certainly, it has been eclipsed in recent-decades by false philosophies and seductions of the evil one. As C.S. Lewis noted, “nowhere does the devil tempt more successfully as on the steps of the altar;” but I would offer a friendly amendment to that and say that he tempts even more successfully in the faculty lounge. And yet, the faith and the tradition has still been maintained, sometimes in quiet and obscure places and with men and women who would readily admit that their job was one of maintenance—planting seeds and keeping the light of the West and Christian culture alive for another generation — and leaving to God the proper season for the flowering of those efforts.

Names like John Senior, Joseph Ratzinger, and Raymond Schoder and countless others laboring in the vineyard of the Lord. And now, it comes to us. Names like Conley, Daly, Sullivan, Messmore, Celano, Adkins, Patnode, Donoghue and every one of you. The last twenty years or so has seen this small flame turn into a fire with all its warmth and splendor and the darkness has not overcome it. But there is still much to be done.

The devil never rests, nor should we. If we are ever tempted to extol our efforts, we would do well to pause and thank God for his many gifts (including those of our talents) and thank him for the teachers in our lives like Fr. Schoder and Dr. Knittel who kept their heads, while all around were losing theirs, and who bequeathed to us this precious heritage.

In closing, if I were to describe the faith and its intellectual and cultural heritage as it presents itself anew to each generation, it can be likened to being served an exquisite new wine made from grapes in your own backyard or uncovering an ancient and mysterious map that happens to be of your own country. It is a discovery, a delight, and an adventure among things that are right in front of us. It is the excitement of tradition, the love of family, the joy of learning, and the realization that this vale of tears has been touched by a good and beautiful God who loves us as his precious children. May we never forget it. Deo gratias.