John Ogilvie

This day in the Church we remember St John Ogilvie. It's hard to describe exactly why I think he's such a role model for us now, but there is something about him which I'm drawn to. Is it his martyrdom; the fact he's a Jesuit? Maybe it's his Scottishness, or the penal times in which he lived. Perhaps it is his heroic conviction to follow his faith and come home to his land to bring about conversion. In the end, like all the saints, it's because who he is drawn to, namely Jesus Christ. The Saints, we can agree, have one thing in common above all other things, their personal, deep and ever-lasting relationship with Jesus. Boy, is that attractive, or is that attractive.

For the liturgy police out there who may be reading this blog - of course I'm mindful of the season and you will be pleased to know I'm keeping St John Ogilvie as a Commemoration - obviously!

On this day I often, also, remember the parish of St John Ogilvie in Corby. A friend of mine was a parishioner there some moons ago. I think it might be the only parish in England under the patronage of the Scot, but do let us know if you are aware of other parishes for whom we need to be praying.

A nice little bio from Archbishop Conti is available on the The Glasgow Story website, here. He says:

Few figures in Scottish history have had such a varied life as John Ogilvie (1579-1615). Born into a respected Calvinist family in Keith, Banffshire, he died a Jesuit priest at Glasgow Cross and is today Scotland's only acknowledged post-reformation Catholic saint. John Ogilvie was educated in mainland Europe. Exposed to the religious controversies of his day and impressed with the faith of the martyrs, he decided to become a Catholic. In 1596, aged seventeen, he was received into the Church at Louvain, Belgium.

He attended a variety of Catholic educational institutions, including the Benedictine College at Ratisbon (Regensburg) in Germany, and Jesuit houses at Olmutz (Olomouc) and Brunn (Brno) in what is now the Czech Republic. He was ordained a Jesuit priest at Paris in 1610 and repeatedly asked to be sent to Scotland. He eventually arrived in November 1613 and ministered clandestinely in the central belt to the few remaining Catholics. His missionary career however lasted less than a year. One posing as a Catholic betrayed him. After his arrest he was tortured in prison in an effort to get him to reveal the names of other Catholics, but he refused. Eventually, Father John Ogilvie was convicted of high treason for denying the king's spiritual jurisdiction by upholding the Pope's spiritual primacy. He was hanged at Glasgow in 1615 aged thirty-six.

He was canonised in 1976 by Pope Paul VI following the inexplicable – later declared miraculous - cure of John Fagan, a working man from Easterhouse in Glasgow devoted to the then-Blessed John Ogilvie whose advanced cancer vanished after prayer to him.

St John Ogilvie - pray for us.

St Nicholas Owen and Harvington Hall

On 22nd March we remember St Nicholas Owen, the Jesuit who was martyred at the start of the 17th Century. Nicholas Owen is remembered, other than his martyrdom, for his outstanding skills at building priest-holes. One such home to come under his craftsmanship was Harvington Hall, located within the archdiocese of Birmingham. Their website, here, records:

The priest-holes were built in the time of Humphrey Pakington, when it was high treason for a Catholic priest to be in England.

The hiding places at Harvington are the finest surviving series in England, and four of them, all sited round the Great Staircase, show the trademarks of the master builder of such places, Nicholas Owen, who was at work from 1588 onwards.

Owen was servant to Fr Henry Garnet, the Jesuit superior in England, who during the 1590s built up a network of houses throughout the country to which incoming priests could be directed and where they could find disguises, chapels and priest holes. The centre of this operation for Worcestershire and the Welsh Marches was Hindlip House, the home of Humphrey's friend Thomas Habington, where the Jesuit Edward Oldcorne arrived in 1590. It was there that Garnet, Owen and Oldcorne were all captured in 1606, just after the Gunpowder Plot. Owen was starved out of one of his own hides on the fourth day of a twelve day search, during which he and a companion, Ralph Ashley, had nothing to eat but one apple between them. He died under torture in the Tower; Garnet, Oldcorne and Ashley were all hanged, drawn and quartered. Although Hindlip was demolished in 1814, descriptions of the hides there show a striking similarity to those that survive at Harvington. That is unlikely to be an accident.

I'm told that they do excellent homemade cakes at Harvington, though I have yet to taste any. Over the years it's been my pleasure to visit Harvington on not less that four occasions. Each visit the baker has, sadly, not been present. Ah, it was ever such. Pray one day I may get to enjoy the cakes, but meanwhile I remain satisfied to have witnessed to Nichols Owen's great skill.

I was amused to read of the connection with Blessed Edward Oldcorne and Nicholas Owen: It is my understanding that a certain priest who ministers, from time to time, at a school under the patronage of Oldcorne was stuck, recently, in one of Owen's priest-holes at Harvington. It seems we priests are growing in girth if not sanctity! I can testify, however, that my learned colleague is most certainly diminishing in girth through his Lenten observance, and undoubtedly flourishing in sanctity at the same time.

What an heroic saint for our times. St Nicholas Owen - pray for us.

Examen Prayer

As I mentioned in the previous post, we have enjoyed a Jesuit led day of recollection. During the day, one session included a detailed look at the Examen Prayer, THE Jesuit prayer. A book highly recommended on the subject is by Father Timothy M. Gallagher, O.M.V., who leads retreats on the spiritual exercises of St Ignatius of Loyola. Fr Tim is also a much sought after spiritual director. The cheapest place I could find the book was with The Book Depository at £8.71 with free delivery. It is also available on amazon, as you would expect.

You may also want to look at the Oblates of the Virgin Mary website, from which I quote:

Inflamed with the spirit of an apostle, Venerable Bruno Lanteri founded the Congregation of the Oblates of the Virgin Mary in 1826 in northern Italy. He taught the Oblates to examine attentively the "signs of the times", to better guide men and women to find the answers they seek in Christ. The vision he lived is the vision we embrace.

Interesting that Ven. Bruno should be seeking the signs of the times given the recent anniversary of Bl. John XXIII calling the Second Vatican Council.

Enjoy the book!

The Pope, AIDS and Condoms

Like many, I was rather saddened that the whole condom debate, and media furore, which rather overshadowed HH Pope Benedict's trip to Africa. I have been mulling over the issues, comments and reports and just today came across this wonderful piece by Michael Czerny SJ. I'm particularly impressed that he writes out of personal experience as well as offering insightful views of those actually affected in sub-Saharan Africa. Not, like me, those with Western views and experience of the issues involved. He concludes:

The Holy Father concludes by answering again the journalist’s allegation of ‘unrealistic and ineffective?’: ‘It seems to me that this is the proper response, and the Church does this, thereby offering an enormous and important contribution. We thank all who do so.’

According to my experience, most Africans, Catholic or not, agree. To them, what the Holy Father said is profound and true. He is reiterating what they have been experiencing for years and what they continue to expect. They too thank those who implement the Church’s strategy.

Even if we don't accept his experience and knowledge of the subject, then we can listen to the voice of the Kenyan Bishops, who said, in 2006:

Even if HIV did not make pre-marital sex, fornication, adultery, abuse of minors and rape so terribly dangerous, they would still be wrong and always have been. It is not the risk of HIV or the sufferings of AIDS, which make sexual licence immoral; these are violations of the Sixth and Ninth Commandments which are sinful, and today in Kenya surely the worst of their many destructive consequences is HIV and AIDS. The Church does not teach a different sexual morality, when or where AIDS poses no danger. But this teaching is not easy for ‘the world’ including the media to understand, much less accept.

Excellent reading. Highly recommended.

Michael Czerny SJ is Director of the African Jesuit AIDS Network (AJAN)

Coldest Winter in Thirteen Years

Today, we have been led in a day of recollection by Fr Ron, a Jesuit at Manressa House, the novitiate in Birmingham, who prepared us for our forthcoming Lenten retreat. The Lenten retreat will also be led by the Jesuits, though, in fact, I will be on placement in Wolverhampton at this time.

As I looked out of the window during lunch, I noticed the first snows beginning to fall. Against the back drop of a lush green Lebanon cedar tree, the drifting snow was magnificent. The snow was falling in that wonderful wistful way in which it rises and falls with the air currents. The way that Hollywood film makers like to portray snow in those family Christmas movies. Immediately, I was transported back to my childhood. To the joy of playing outdoors, of dreams yet to be fulfilled and of wonder that such beauty could mask the whole world.

We read that it will be the coldest winter in thirteen years. With Britain set for heavy snowstorms coming in from Russia. The elderly, or those who are homeless, perhaps looked upon the same snow I was marvelling at, and were filled with fear and terror for the coming days. Certainly, I worry for my own family and those elderly people I know, and hope that they will be warm and safe.

I thank God for the wonder of creation; for the joy of seeing the snow, most especially when I am warm indoors, and I pray for the coming of the Kingdom, when we will care for the elderly and the homeless and those who suffer in the winter. What can I do to alleviate the suffering I see around me? How I can help bring the warmth of Christ's love to those who despair?

Saint John Ogilvie SJ

1579 - 1615

Scotland's only post-Reformation saint. Born into a Calvinist family in Keith (Moray), Ogilvie was educated in Europe and converted to Catholicism in 1596. He continued his education in Regensburg (Germany) and Brno (Czech Republic) before being ordained as a Priest in Paris (1610). He returned to Scotland in 1613 disguised as a soldier and secretly offered mass to Scottish Catholics. However, he was captured by the authorities, tried in Edinburgh and hanged at Glasgow Cross. Ogilvie was canonised by Pope Paul VI in 1976 following the miraculous recovery of a cancer-sufferer from Easterhouse, where there is a Catholic church named in Ogilvie's honour. There is also a St. John Ogilvie Church in Irvine (North Ayrshire) and High Blantyre (South Lanarkshire).

There's also a wonderful parish in Corby, England named after this lesser known Scottish saint. I understand this may be due, in no small part, to all the Scottish miners, who settled into the area.

He was, daresay still is, an amazing Jesuit. I rather wish I had taken him as my confirmation saint, now, as I had originally planned. Still, St Peter has seen me right!

Further details on this great Saint are available on sqpn.com.

St. John Ogilvie, pray for us.

Liturgy and Spirituality

Yesterday, I came across this post on a young Jesuit novice's blog. Have a read for yourself. I hope it gives you food for thought. Certainly, it's changed my views on what I'm doing in the liturgy. Go visit The City and The World, too, by Joe Koczera, SJ in the Bronx, NY.

As I expressed hopes of doing in an earlier post, I'd like to reflect a bit on a lecture that I heard Father Robert F. Taft, S.J. give last week at St. Vladimir's Orthodox Theological Seminary. As is often the case with academic lectures, some of the most insightful and provocative things that Father Taft had to say came in his answers to questions posed after his talk rather than in the text that he had prepared for the occasion. To a question on the relationship between liturgy and spirituality, Father Taft had this to say:

Basically, the main problem of all liturgical theology is how do we justify the claims that we make for Christian liturgy? How can we say in the churches, the apostolic churches that have a high Christology – my Christology is so high it’d give you a nosebleed – a high Christology, in other words, which believes that Jesus Christ is the eternal Word of God who became incarnate, as in the teaching of the ecumenical councils, that he preexisted before all time, and that Jesus Christ is the main protagonist, as head of his body, of our liturgical services – and that’s what gives them the reality that we assign to them.

In other words, that we say that it is Christ acting through the indwelling of his spirit in the Church who is the main protagonist of the liturgy. It’s not the Church that does it, separate from Christ. Liturgical celebrations are celebrations of the entire body of Christ, and the main celebrant of the liturgy, so to speak, is Christ himself. But the point of liturgy is that we are supposed to become what we celebrate. The purpose of the Eucharist isn’t to change bread and wine into Jesus Christ, it’s to change you and me into Jesus Christ – that’s what it’s all about. We are supposed to become the word of comfort and forgiveness, we are supposed to become the bread of life for the world, we are supposed to become the healing oil – and by 'we,' I don’t mean just the ordained, [but] all Christians. So there’s no possibility of separating liturgy and spirituality.

Liturgy is simply the mirror of what we are supposed to be, so that when we leave the liturgical assembly, we are supposed to go out and be what it is that we celebrate. That’s why St. Paul never once uses sacral terminology, like 'sacrifice,' 'offering,' 'liturgy,' 'priesthood' and so forth for anything except Christian life in Christ. What we do in church is simply the initiation into, and the feeding, and the restoration, if it’s lost by sin, and the intensification through preaching and the sacraments of what we’re supposed to be. If we don’t become it, we might as well stay in bed on Sunday morning, because what we’re doing is just a comedy.

So liturgy and spirituality are one – they can’t be separated, can’t be separated, or if they are separated, then we have, we have sucked all of the meaning out of what the liturgy is supposed to be. So the purpose of liturgy is that we become that which it exemplifies. Liturgy holds up to us the model of Christian life. What’s the model of Christian life? What do we put on the altar? We put on bread that was broken, and blood that was poured out, as signs of what we are supposed to be. When we put the bread on the altar and the chalice on the altar as the signs which will become through the invocation of the Holy Spirit the body that was broken for us and the blood that pours out to – we’re saying, 'I’m doing this because this is what I know I’m supposed to be.' And if that’s not why we’re doing it, why bother? What good is it?

Father Taft's trademark frankness may be off-putting to some readers, but I think it's hard to contest the truth of his central thesis. Christian liturgy should offer a model for Christian living - that is, what we celebrate in the liturgy ought to be a part of our daily lives and not an escape from it. Father Alexander Schmemann made this point when he described Christianity as "the end of religion" - the end, that is, of a false separation between the sacred and the secular that allows believers to treat worship as something alien and removed from ordinary experience.

To be sure, the transformation of the gifts of bread and wine into the body and blood of Jesus Christ is accomplished in the liturgy regardless of whether the communicants undergo the sort of inner transformation that Father Taft speaks of. Nonetheless, it is worth asking what meaning the Eucharist can truly have for those who receive communion but are not really open to receiving the grace that God offers to them through the sacrament. If your experience of the liturgy doesn't help to bring about a deeper transformation in your life, you may want to ask yourself why it does not.

More constructively, you may also wish to consider how you can make your experience of the liturgy more meaningful - not simply for you, but for those with whom you live. There is a lot more that could be said about this, but for now I'd simply like to give the readers of this blog an opportunity to sit with Father Taft's words and to reflect upon them as I have done over the past week. We would all be very fortunate, I think, if each time we took part in the liturgy we could truly say to ourselves, "I'm doing this because this is what I know I'm supposed to be." AMDG. (Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam.)

When is it right to speak out?

Over the last few weeks, I have been following the developments of various issues within the Church which have brought not a little embarrassment and controversy both within and without the Church herself. I am talking about the lifting of the excommunication of the SSPX bishops, the fiasco in the diocese of Linz in Austria and also the article in The Tablet about Fr Tim Finigan.

What has pained me, in all of this, is the way in which some Catholics, in particular, have generally been keen to put over quite negative and critical views of the heirarchy. Having taken one promise of obedience, and soon to take another at my ordination to the priesthood, clearly, I have been concerned as to whether I ought to comment on this blog, or to remain silent 'in print' as it were. Karl Rahner, the Jesuit theologian, said of obedience in regard to the priestly promise made; “real obedience includes the courage to be a troublesome subject”.

It is right, and proper, that we all engage in the debate and put over our views. No one seeks to silence or stop criticism of our leaders. Nor do we seek to prevent healthy dialogue that brings about a strengthening of our shared life in Christ. What is not helpful, however, is when we are so frustrated that we act uncharitably toward one another and effectively draw lines in the sand beyond which we are not prepared to go. There are, nonetheless, times when it is only right and proper that we speak out in the loudest possible terms when we see injustice and harm being done. It is, indeed, the responsibility of all the baptised who share in the prophetic mission of Christ, and to proclaim the Gospel.

It pains me to hear the anti-Semitic views of Bishop Williamson and I very warmly welcome the Vatican's rejection of his ambiguous apology. Ruth Gledhill makes the point that in our modern world we need to hear the rejection of the offending words themselves, not merely the apology for having spoken them. Nothing less than a total repudiation of his views will be acceptable, and if he cannot change his mind, to correct his prejudices, then he ought to remain silent and pray for the grace to see the truth.

Though these may seem like difficult times, when we argue with one another over the detail, and all seems doomed to failure: Let us pray in thanksgiving to God that we enjoy such things as freedom of speech, the education to form, hold and express opinions and the opportunity to share our religion, in season and out of season, with a world increasingly secularised. We must reject that which seeks to destroy rather than unite us.

Dedication of the Church

Some thoughts from a homily I preached on Friday, the Dedication of the Chapel at Oscott. Interestingly, though the chapel was consecrated on 29 May 1838, it was not dedicated, to Our Lady, Seat of Wisdom, until two days later.

Dedication of the Church – 29 May 2009

A braver man than I would have stayed in the pulpit and preached, but I am no Fr Newman, who sat almost exactly there in 1852, in this chapel; but I am no Fr Newman, and this is no Second Spring. According to James Doyle’s unfinished oil painting, on the landing, Newman was sat next to Fr Manning at the Synod of Westminster, the newly restored hierarchy of our lands. Sitting where I am now in front of the altar like so many bishops who grace our presence these days, Cardinal Wiseman, the first Archbishop of Westminster. Just behind him, was one Fr John Wheble, he of the stained glass window fame, and MC to the first Synod of Westminster, over there was Provost Weedall and just to my left was Bishop Ullathorne who is wearing his beloved and stunning pectoral cross now adorning the current Archbishop of Westminster. With the religious (Benedictine and Jesuit) sat by the clavinova, truly the great and the good of the Church, seemingly dead now and yet very much alive in these hallowed stones.

Here stood the new triumphant Church! But these men were not triumphant in and of themselves. Oh no, they were triumphant because of what they were about, or rather who they were about. St John teaches us in the book of the Apocalypse “You see this city? Here God lives among men. He will make his home among them.” It is tempting to imagine a place in which men gathered in His name when suddenly there came a great whoosh and the Spirit entered their lives to carry them on to the mission. They waited for the Paraclete, promised so long ago. Do you think the Spirit soared that fateful day in 1852 and drove a young and vital Fr Wheble out from this chapel to the Crimea and to face almost certain death in the most appalling conditions, to be with the dying catholic soldiers as he ministered to them?

I tell you, it was ever thus. The Spirit is here now and driving you onward to mission. You are not merely engaged in being examined this week to demonstrate your youthful pride remembering theories and doctrines and philosophies. NO. You are being prepared for mission! You sit in this chapel today, the living Church. What you have come to is Mount Zion and the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem. You have come to God himself.

God does not ask what percentage you achieve in your exam or what classification of degree you get, nor even if you passed or failed. God asks only one question: my son, did you give a good account of yourself? Did you use all of the gifts and talents and wonder of your being to show your love for me? Did you, my son?

Our gospel today teaches one thing, if nothing else, and it is this: this chapel is not the Church, the body of Christ; it is not the temple of old. Today we celebrate the dedication of this chapel in 1838, but it is not the grandeur of the seven hour liturgy, or the staggering costs incurred by Pugin, who MC’d the event, nor even that Oscott on this day was the first in the country to dispense with the fiddleback chasuble and go for the full Gothic!

Today is a living memory of those who have gone before us and who teach us so much for today. One such luminary is John Wheble. Nicolas Wiseman, when returning to Oscott for the third synod of Westminster in 1855 said of his beloved MC: “Who amongst us that saw him conducting the ceremonies of our fist synod with so much grace, accuracy and cheerfulness, did not feel how earnest and holy a duty he considered his to be, and how deeply he reverenced and prized the rubrics of the Church, and all her ceremonial enactments? And seeing him still so young, and so fitted for his office, did we not naturally expect to find him here today directing our functions, instead of our being seated beneath his monument, or rather receiving light through his memorial, as we do through his example.” Those who inspire us to march on to battle, no matter the cost, inspire us to victory for Christ. We know the hallowed ground upon which we walk and we remember. We are proud to be Oscotians, we are proud to be the Church, and together we will succeed.

Please pray for the men of Oscott, currently immersed in the examination schedule!

Prayer - that lesser discussed lenten observance

It strikes me that prayer is often overlooked during Lent. We will often talk of what we are giving up for Lent; indeed, I have done so already on this blog. Fasting is a fail-safe for Lent. Here at Oscott, we have communally given up puddings, for the season, and regularly fast on a Friday (though the paté on toast is always a mystery to me) and give the money to the poor.

Almsgiving, to another extent, is a regular of Lent. CAFOD Fast Days, especially the Lenten one, is a great opportunity to remind us that we fast for a reason, not simply out of habit. Giving the money saved to the poor is a wonderful means of doing more. It's a way to remind us that there are others who have less than we do. We must never forget the words of St Ambrose:

"the beauty of wealth lies not in the manner of life of the rich but in food given to the poor; wealth is more resplendent among those who are weak and in want; Christians should learn to use money in looking not for their own goods but for Christ's, so that Christ in turn may look after them."

To this end, I wanted to remind you, or, indeed, introduce you to, a triptych of websites, which I find helpful in my prayer life. Pray as you go (I was reminded by a friend on the telephone tonight) is a wonderful site with a daily gospel reading and reflection/meditation to aid you in prayer. It has some wonderful music to help with your prayers too, and is aimed at the audio generation. Sacred Space, another Jesuit website, offers less audio and more visual simple prayers to follow. I guess, good for people who prefer to read prayers than to listen on the old ipod. Finally, and don't we love things in threes, there is Radiant Light, for those who prefer the visual. The simply stunning work of Elizabeth Wang, offers many, many images to reflect upon.