A Letter from Fr John Ogilvie SJ
POST BY Ruth
Thursday, March 12, 2015 - 14:57
On 9 March 2015 an ecumenical vespers was held at St Aloysius church in Glasgow, on the eve of the 400th anniversary of them martyrdom of St John Ogilvie SJ. Fr Dermot Preston gave the homily, that you can listen to below, but in which he read this letter:
Dear Fr Preston,
My name is Fr John Ogilvie. I understand that you will be preaching this evening as part of the celebrations of my 400 years. I’m sorry not to be there – well, I’m not actually... I’m in a far better place. And the weather is much better.
I hear that you are the Provincial of the British Jesuits. As a Scot in those days, having left Leith, I found myself entering the Jesuits in what you would now called the Czech Republic – ‘Bohemia’, as it then was. I came to London just once, but it was only a short visit. There was great persecution in England in those days and, as I was being trained, I met many brave English and Welsh Jesuit priests and brothers on the continent awaiting their mission. Impressive men; but like me, many of them didn’t live to old age.
As I look back I have been reflecting and, for what it is worth, I offer you a few thoughts for your homily tonight.
Firstly I am delighted that so many people and ministers of so many Christian denominations can come together for such an occasion. At the end of my trial, after I had been condemned to death, I made a point of going to shake the hands of all the judges: this was not some stunt – I sincerely meant it. Certainly some annoyed me greatly by their petty mindedness, and some were so caught-up in their own issues they couldn’t see beyond the skin of their own noses, but despite our formidable differences, I quite liked a lot of them and held them all as beloved children of the living God. It fills my heart with great joy that companionship is possible in your day
Strangely, despite my rather fraught conditions, after my capture I found myself remarkably free. It is a peculiar thing to say, given that I was in prison and in leg-irons, but I honestly can say that I had a lightness of spirit because my world had suddenly simplified to matters of life, death, integrity and the promise of resurrection; all other things were irrelevant as my time on earth was coming to an end. All of those around me – my jailors, judges, the politicians and citizens carried much responsibility – they all felt the intense pressures of authority and governance and were practically trying balance them... an impossible task, especially in the toxic atmosphere that swirls around people in times of uncertainty and conflict. Fear and greed are two ravenous wolves which will devour all but the most grounded of Christian souls. I looked at my persecutors and felt sorry for them: I was glad not to be in their boots. Indeed, knowing my own spiritual faults and failings, I thought, ‘There, but for the grace of God, go I”... so I thanked God for the lot that he had given me, the simple task of dealing with the things-of-the-moment and trusting in his grace.
Secondly, I would hope that in your homily you do not dwell on the past and please do not focus on me. I have a name and you know some things about me and my life – perhaps not as much as you think, as actually not one of you is certain of the year in which I was born! – but through the 2000 years of the history of the Church, I am just a single raindrop in a Glaswegian thunderstorm. Thousands, perhaps millions of human beings have died violently in Christ’s name over two millennia. Many of these people have never been named; for some, their story of martyrdom is forgotten by history and known only to the heart of God. They are the heroes of the Church.
In your own time there has been an unprecedented upsurge of persecution of Christians across the world. According to one secular Human Rights group based in Germany, 80% of all acts of religious discrimination in your world today are directed at Christians. Statistically speaking, that makes Christians by far the most persecuted religious body on the planet.
Notice I don’t say ‘Catholics’ because now the struggle has changed: if truth be told, the complex discussions about the differences in Christian theology which brought about my death are a luxury which is irrelevant for many people of your day. Look around you, Father Provincial: in Africa, in Asia, the Middle East, parts of Europe and central America, just to stand in the Shadow of the Cross automatically marks you out for torture and death. Faith and belief are distilled to the very basics; Presbyterians, Methodists, Salvation Army Pentecostalists, Baptists, Anglicans, Orthodox and others stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Catholics in announcing their faith not with any complex declaration of creed, but merely by indicating that Christ, the Son of God came down upon this earth for the salvation of humankind, and they have styled their life on that belief. It is important to emphasise what unites Christians rather than focussing on what divides.
Finally, perhaps it would be important to tell the people tonight about what it means to be a martyr. This is especially true when the word itself might be used to describe a man or woman who wraps himself or herself in explosives and devastates a Church or a Synagogue or a Mosque. A Christian can never be someone who brings destruction on others in the name of Christ. A Christian martyr is someone who acts as a witness – a person who gives up their life, that others might live.
This might seem a little high falutin’, Fr Dermot, but this is a very practical matter for all the people in the Church tonight - so don’t let them out of there tonight without mentioning it.
There is so much fear and uncertainty and greed in people’s daily lives that it is so tempting to lash out at other people – to inflict fear on others, to use physical violence or the deadly weapon of a gossipy tongue to drag them down. It can give a moment of pleasure, but ultimately it is a futile action. The cycle of vendetta and recrimination which you can see spiralling-down through families and nations through the centuries, draws the life-blood from all that is human.
In my own small way, I tried to do as Jesus did. I did not trade insult for insult. Instead I looked at Jesus before his persecutors and took him as my example; he absorbed their hatred, he absorbed their anger, he absorbed their misunderstanding and somehow – shockingly – he stopped it dead in its tracks.
Every act of human kindness, every fragment of LOVE contributes to this redemption of the world, whether it is a hand of friendship or a bitten-tongue holding back an insult. No act of witness goes to waste.
So, work for the time when people might come to you and ask you to show them a martyr, a faithful witness to the faith; work for that time when you no longer need to point to my painting or shrine – but you can point to yourself and the congregation that surrounds you.
Your devoted Jesuit Brother in Christ,
Firstborn son of Walter Ogilvie of Drum-na-Keith.