Homily by Fr Domenico Zanre.
“.. unless a wheat grain falls on the ground and dies, it remains only a single grain; but if it dies, it yields a rich harvest.”
On a fateful March day in the year 1615, a 35-year-old man was led up the steps of the gallows at Glasgow Cross, to face the hangman’s noose. That man was John Ogilvie, from Drum na Keith – a former Calvinist, a Catholic convert, and now a Jesuit priest. Once revered, and now condemned. The parallels between the treatment meted out to the priestly prisoner, and the words of the prophet Isaiah, which feature in our first reading, are striking. Contemporary reports state that Archbishop John Spottiswoode of St. Andrews, and Primate of All Scotland, struck Ogilvie across the face, and the soon to-be-martyred priest later wrote from his prison cell that “They rained blows on me, they tore my hair and my beard; I hid not my face from shame and spitting.”
Over the next five months, in both Edinburgh and Glasgow, the authorities – both civil and ecclesiastical – interrogated and tortured the young Jesuit. From where did he get his strength? How did he maintain his faith and devotion to Holy Mother Church? Well, one small detail is significant. In November 1599, Ogilvie entered the Jesuit Novitiate in Brno, located in the Czech Republic. It was here that the English martyr, St. Edmund Campion, had once lived. The story of his life – and most especially, of his death – had an enormous influence on Ogilvie’s own understanding of his identity and mission as a priest, and what he saw as his eventual destiny:
“Anyone who loves his life loses it;
anyone who hates his life in this world
will keep it for the eternal life.”
Ogilvie refused to pledge allegiance to the earthly monarch, King James VI of Scotland and James I of England and Ireland, following the union of the crowns in 1603. It is interesting to note that James was a Protestant King, whose mother was the Catholic Mary Queen of Scots; by contrast, Ogilvie’s parents were of solid Protestant stock, and whose son became a Catholic. Perhaps this helps in part to explain why King James took a personal interest in the trial – if we can call the mock spectacle a ‘trial’. The formalities were swiftly concluded before one barely had time to draw breath, and Ogilvie was found guilty of high treason, and sentenced to be hung and quartered that very same afternoon. By acknowledging the supremacy of the Pope, the Vicar of Christ, Ogilvie effectively sealed his fate. Yet in so doing, he remained true to his faith until the very end, a proud son of Keith, and a loyal martyr for the Church.
Over 350 years later, another priest, who barely escaped martyrdom, made the following declaration: “In the designs of Providence, there are no mere coincidences.” This other figure was not Scottish, but Polish: not just a priest, but the Successor of Peter – Karol Wojtyła, Pope John Paul II. Here we have two men, two Catholic priests, who both faced martyrdom: one who met it on the gallows, the other who narrowly avoided it on that sunny day in 1982, in St. Peter’s Square, Rome, on 13 May, the feast of Our Lady of Fatima. As John Paul II would later mystically remark: “One hand pulled the trigger of the gun; but another hand guided the bullet.”
“No mere coincidences”. These words must sound discordant to those sophisticated men and women of the 21st century who decry any notion of discipline or commitment, in favour of socalled freedom and the cult of individuality – a freedom that can rapidly degenerate into licence, into activities which are self-centred and which feed on self-aggrandisement (for a banal example, witness the contemporary obsession with the ‘selfie’ photograph). The-end result of this narrow, narcissistic lifestyle is a form of moral relativism that lacks any absolutes, and where each person’s truth is as valid as the next.
John Ogilvie died for the truth – the real ‘truth’ – the One who is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. “If anyone serves me, my Father will honour him.” Ogilvie’s last words on the scaffold were these: “If there be here any hidden Catholics, let them pray for me, but the prayers of heretics I will not have.” Like the execution of the Righteous One on Mount Calvary, who died as the spotless lamb without blemish, and whose bones remained unbroken, so the customary quartering of the limbs of the condemned was omitted, owing to the popular sympathy of the crowd, and Ogilvie’s body was hastily buried in the churchyard of Glasgow cathedral without any desecration.
“if it dies, it yields a rich harvest.” As his body dropped from the gallows into the blackness of death, Ogilvie threw his rosary out into the crowd. It was caught by a young Hungarian nobleman, by the name of Jean de Eckersdorff, who happened to be visiting Glasgow. Eckersdorff was drawn to the place of execution partly by the noise of the crowds, and partly by his own curiosity, which was piqued by the reports he had received of this Scottish Catholic priest. The courage and steadfast faith of the condemned man attracted him.
As Ogilvie had been, so was Eckersdorff. Raised a Calvinist, he cared nothing for the papist religion of Rome. And yet.. that rosary changed everything for him.. “No mere coincidences”. Our young Hungarian friend was to know no peace until he found it at last in the Catholic faith. In so doing, he demonstrated perfectly the famous aphorism of St. Augustine: “Lord, You have made us for Yourself, and our hearts are restless until they rest in You.” Ogilvie’s very last gesture was to add one more person to the list of those who had converted to the Catholic faith by his teaching and example. The grace and power of God often works through the most unlikely events.
If you ever happen to visit the Pontifical Scots College, our national seminary in Rome, you will find these scenes depicted on stained glass in the chapel. The repercussions of Ogilvie’s martyrdom – and his final gesture – were not merely confined to those in his immediate vicinity, who gathered around the scaffold on the day of his death.
The Scots College was founded in the year 1600 by Pope Clement VIII. Its intention was to provide a sound education for young Scottish Catholic men, who, because of the sectarian laws, could not receive a Catholic education at home. Inspired by the courage and faith of John Ogilvie, the sixteen students who were studying at the College in Rome made a vow together, and in 1616 – on the anniversary of the Jesuit martyr’s death – they all agreed to receive holy orders, and to return to Scotland as priests. Not only did the example of Ogilvie lead to the crystallisation of a priestly vocation in the hearts of these sixteen students, but in so doing, it directly led to the transformation of the College into a Seminary.
For over four hundred years, the Scots College has continued to form multitudes of priests for our country, who return here to minister to the people. “If a man serves me, he must follow me, wherever I am”. It is surely no mere coincidence that we are gathered here today. We are the heirs of this legacy of St. John Ogilvie, whose death has brought such spiritual life to our land. “The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the Church”. So wrote Tertullian, the second century Christian writer from Carthage, in North Africa. The blood of Ogilvie was shed on fertile ground, and it has produced and multiplied a crop thirty, sixty, a hundred-fold.
Dear friends, let’s not be hidden Catholics, let’s not cower away. Let’s be part of that bounteous crop, that rich harvest, as rich as the farming land all around us, once owned and worked by the Ogilvie family. Let’s be proud of our faith, and let’s pray to St. John Ogilvie, that through his intercession, it may be renewed and strengthened – let’s be proud to pass that faith on to our children – proud to encourage them in their own spiritual journeys and in their relationship with Christ, proud when sons and daughters speak about a possible vocation to the priesthood or religious life, proud to defend our faith publicly, proud to give witness to it, wherever we are. What does the Bishop to candidates during the Rite of Confirmation? “This is our faith. This is the faith of the Church. We are proud to profess it, in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Let us be similarly confirmed in our own faith. I’ll conclude by paraphrasing today’s Prayer after Communion: “Lord, give each and every one of us gathered here today that requisite strength and determination which made your blessed Martyr John Ogilvie faithful in your service and victorious in suffering.” St. John Ogilvie – Pray for Us
