Consider, first, the color of the altar and the relief of the pelican–pure white. What might that suggest? Is the carving a still-life, or is there action that we are witnessing? What is on the pelican's breast? What are her young doing? How are they arranged in the carving? What else do you notice?
And he took bread, and when he had given thanks he broke it and gave it to them, saying, “This is my body which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” And likewise the cup after supper, saying, "This cup which is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood." (Luke 22:20).
Notice the wound the pelican inflicts on itself, on its side, in order to feed its children. It sacrifices its own flesh and blood in order to sustain the life of those three pelicans, who are growing into its likeness out of the waters in which they abide.
Look even closer: three pelicans, three drops of blood, three currents of water, one pelican who encompasses the entire unfolding drama in its wings.
Think back to the way God instructed Israel to worship–through animal sacrifices and burnt offerings:
If he brings a lamb as his offering for a sin offering, he shall bring a female without blemish, and lay his hand upon the head of the sin offering, and kill it for a sin offering in the place where they kill the burnt offering. Then the priest shall take some of the blood of the sin offering with his finger and put it on the horns of the altar of burnt offering, and pour out the rest of its blood at the base of the altar. (Leviticus 4:32-34).
Christ gives us himself. A new offering, a new sacrifice, which we place on the pure white altar, unbloodied and resplendent with our return-offering, which is our sacrifice of praise. Our altar is the physical place where we can watch the Eucharistic drama unfold at each Mass at St. Anthony, beginning with the Father's sending hands at the top the mosaic, in the grace of the Holy Spirit we see in the form of a dove, through the sacrifice of the Son on the cross, to the tabernacle where this new Eucharistic sacrifice dwells until it is brought to the altar, the new place of unbloodied sacrifice.
There, the Bread of Life, the new offering, is transubstantiated into Jesus, whose very own side was pierced for us and who purchased our salvation with his blood, so that he may dwell in us–nourishing and sanctifying our spirit–and we can be received back into the Father's loving hands.
Seeing, touching, tasting are in thee deceived:
How says trusty hearing? that shall be believed;
What God’s Son has told me, take for truth I do;
Truth himself speaks truly or there’s nothing true.
On the cross thy godhead made no sign to men,
Here thy very manhood steals from human ken:
Both are my confession, both are my belief,
And I pray the prayer of the dying thief.
I am not like Thomas, wounds I cannot see,
But can plainly call thee Lord and God as he;
Let me to a deeper faith daily nearer move,
Daily make me harder hope and dearer love.
O thou our reminder of Christ crucified,
Living Bread, the life of us for whom he died,
Lend this life to me then: feed and feast my mind,
There be thou the sweetness man was meant to find.
Bring the tender tale true of the Pelican;
Bathe me, Jesu Lord, in what thy bosom ran—
Blood whereof a single drop has power to win
All the world forgiveness of its world of sin.
Jesu, whom I look at shrouded here below,
I beseech thee send me what I thirst for so,
Some day to gaze on thee face to face in light
And be blest for ever with thy glory’s sight. Amen.
Adoro Te Devote, Eucharistic Hymn, Saint Thomas Aquinas
Translated by Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844–89)