Bl. John Fenwick and Bl. John Gavan (d. 1679) were Englishmen and Jesuit priests who were martyred for their faith in England during the monarchy’s persecution of the Catholic Church. John Fenwick’s Protestant parents disowned him when he became a Catholic. The two priests, along with three other Jesuits, were falsely accused of involvement in the “Popish Plot,” a fabricated conspiracy that mounted to anti-Catholic hysteria in England over the course of three years. The men were charged with complicity to assassinate King Charles II and condemned on the charges of High Treason and subversion of the nation’s Protestant religion. During their trial, John Gavan acted as the principal spokesman for the group; one historian called him one of the ablest priests of his generation. Both priests were condemned to be hung, drawn, and quartered. It is said that the King, knowing they were innocent yet unwilling to grant them pardon, permitted them to be hanged only. After giving a rousing speech declaring their innocence, Bl. John Fenwick and Bl. John Gavan were martyred together on June 20th, 1679. They share a feast day on June 20th.
Born into a family of some wealth, John Francis was so impressed by his Jesuit educators that he himself wished to enter the Society of Jesus. He did so at age 18. Despite his rigorous academic schedule, he spent many hours in chapel, often to the dismay of fellow seminarians who were concerned about his health. Following his ordination to the priesthood, John Francis undertook missionary work in various French towns. While the formal sermons of the day tended toward the poetic, his discourses were plain. But they revealed the fervor within him and attracted people of all classes. Father Regis especially made himself available to the poor. Many mornings were spent in the confessional or at the altar celebrating Mass; afternoons were reserved for visits to prisons and hospitals.
The bishop of Viviers, observing the success of Father Regis in communicating with people, sought to draw on his many gifts, especially needed during the prolonged civil and religious strife then rampant throughout France. With many prelates absent and priests negligent, the people had been deprived of the sacraments for 20 years or more. Various forms of Protestantism were thriving in some cases while a general indifference toward religion was evident in other instances. For three years, Father Regis traveled throughout the diocese, conducting missions in advance of a visit by the bishop. He succeeded in converting many people and in bringing many others back to religious observances.
Though Father Regis longed to work as a missionary among the Native Americans in Canada, he was to live out his days working for the Lord in the wildest and most desolate part of his native France. There he encountered rigorous winters, snowdrifts and other deprivations. Meanwhile he continued preaching missions and earned a reputation as a saint. Upon entering the town of Saint-Andé, one man came upon a large crowd in front of a church and was told that people were waiting for “the saint” who was coming to preach a mission.
The last four years of his life were spent preaching and organizing social services, especially for prisoners, the sick and the poor. In the autumn of 1640, Father Regis sensed that his days were coming to a conclusion. He settled some of his affairs and prepared for the end by continuing to do what he did so well: speaking to the people about the God who loved them. On December 31, he spent most of the day with his eyes on the crucifix. That evening, he died. His final words were: “Into thy hands I commend my spirit.”
John Francis Regis was canonized in 1737.
Reflection
John longed to travel to the New World and become a missionary to the Native Americans, but he was called instead to work among his own compatriots. Unlike many famous preachers, he isn’t remembered for golden-tongued oratory. What people who listened to him heard was his own fervent faith, and it had a powerful effect on them. We can recall homilists who impressed us for the same reason. More importantly for us, we can also remember ordinary people, neighbors and friends, whose faith and goodness touched us and brought us to deeper faith. That is the calling most of us must follow.
“He shall bring forth justice to the nations. But he will not cry out or make his voice heard in the street…until he establishes justice on the earth…. I, the Lord, have called you for the victory of justice…to open the eyes of the blind, and to bring out prisoners from confinement.” —Isaiah 42:1–2, 4, 7
In Isaiah we have the first of the rightly named “Servant Songs,” which will continue throughout the week. In these four accounts hidden away in Isaiah, one either sees a foretelling of Jesus in brilliant analysis, or one wonders if Jesus was “modeled” to fit these lovely descriptions. The correlation is uncanny, at any rate. In the Gospel from John we have a woman acting as the “servant” to Jesus. (Maybe this is the connection?) We have Mary of Bethany again taking the fervent disciple’s role instead of the hostess role of Martha. She anoints Jesus’ feet with expensive nard, which is the anointing oil for death. My interpretation of this from all three varied Gospel accounts is that Mary is accepting the inevitability and necessity of death for Jesus (which Peter and the male inner circle cannot do!). “The whole house is filled with the fragrance.” Judas is the spokesman in the story, and he pretends to prefer the poor to a simple act of love. That is the clear point. It is forever a judgment on what we might now call “ideology on the left,” a good balance after the text has heavily criticized the ideology of religious zealots and Pharisees on the “right.” Jesus’ response appears to be directly from Deuteronomy: “There will always be poor in the land. I command you therefore, always be open-handed with anyone in the country who is in need or is poor” (15:11). Unfortunately, only the first phrase is quoted in the Gospel text, with the sad result that people have used this story to teach that religious piety is more important than social justice. As Paul will insightfully say later, “If I give away all that I possess, piece by piece, or even if I give away my body to be burned, but do not have love, it is useless” (1 Corinthians 13:3). As always, love of Jesus and love of justice for the neighbor are just two different shapes to the One Love.
“God of love and justice, let me know and live that they are not separate. Loving people will do justice, and just people will do their work with love and respect.”
“When You Wrestle With Pigs in the Mud, You’re Gonna Get Dirty“
Father Peter Fitzgibbons
March 20-21, 2021
Gospel: John 11: 1-45
I’ve hear a lot these days that we live in a “cancel culture.” Do you know what that is? It’s when people say mean things about you and try to erase your very existence. However, I disagree that we are living in a cancel culture. I was in a cancel culture. I was in the U.S. Army for 24 years and served in three wars. They tried to put an expiration date on my birth certificate, and they were pretty darn good at it too. That’s cancel culture. We are not living in a cancel culture. What we have here is an evil culture. People are trying to do evil under the appearance of good. They are claiming what was evil is now good. These sins are included in the four sins in scripture that cry out to Heaven for vengeance. Members of the cancel culture scream at you just as they screamed at our Lord and crucified Him. There’s nothing new under the sun as scripture says. And there’s not. The good news for us is that we don’t have to be that way. But, if you wrestle with pigs in the mud, the pigs doesn’t mind, but you’re going to get dirty.
Let me ask you a question. Do you know what the secret to happiness is? Want me to tell you? Our Lord has told us to be holy. He said, “Peace I leave with you; My peace I give to you.” This is a peace that the world cannot take away. So, if we seek and strive for holiness and to be one with our good Lord each day, we will have a happiness that no one can take away. That doesn’t mean you won’t have your share of sorrows and troubles. We all have our illnesses, and we all have our struggles. Our loved ones have been taken from this world to Heaven. That happens to us all. It doesn’t mean Christ stopped loving us. It means we are sharing in some of His Passion for the sake of the Body of His church, for our own redemption, and for the souls of others. We know deep down that as long as we do not turn away from our Lord through mortal sin or unrepented venial sin, He will always be there. Even though we cannot feel it, He is always present with us. Our peace and joy will come later after our trial on Earth is done. Our suffering is redemptive.
Saint John Paul II was suffering from end-stage Parkinson’s. He loved classical music, so they brought in a world famous orchestra and conductor to play for him. I don’t know his name…it’s not ZZ Top, so it’s beyond me. Because of the steroids he was on for the Parkinson’s, he was bloated, shaking and drooling. He could barely move. The last piece the orchestra played was his favorite, and the orchestra played it so beautifully, it would have made angels weep. When the orchestra finished playing, the conductor turned around and looked nervously at the Pope. The conductor was a little scared, because they were playing for the pope. The Holy Father could barely move, but he looked at the conductor and gave him a thumbs up. Even in his suffering, you knew he was a man of God. He had a happiness about him no matter what happened. He had the weight of the whole Church on his shoulders. He had a fatal illness that is terribly debilitating. But, he still had peace. And, that’s what we can have, because we have Christ. However, because we have Christ, we have an obligation to help others.
So, how do we fight this so-called cancel culture? We must try to be even more holy and to pray for people. Some of them are like those in I see in the gated community, a state sponsored residence with its own security system. Those incarcerated never had a chance. They were abused in childhood, so the chances were less than average that they would have a good life. They had a lot of things working against them. Granted, they chose to do evil, but they had a lot more crosses than we do. That’s not an excuse, but it’s a mitigating factor. How do we help those people who are evil and who try to say what we believe is evil and must change? Even the Catholic Church says sometimes what we believe must change. That’s not true. They are lying. They aren’t wrong…they are lying. Educated people who know better are lying. How do we change that? Have a little chat with them? Even though I’m almost 68, I’m still a soldier, and part of me would love to say, “Let’s go outside and discuss this.” No. Our Lord said to love them, sacrifice for them, and pray for them. They were taught from a young age that sin was good. We see the outcomes of sin and evil. We don’t have to be like them. But, instead of fighting with them, we need to love them.
Those who advocate evil are just like little children who don’t get their way, and they throw a tantrum. That’s me some days. Ever had a child…or a husband…throw a temper tantrum? What happens? Like our guardian angels, and like any good parent, we slowly take them in our arms, close to our heart. They are all worn out from their temper tantrum and break down in tears. So, we hold them close to our heart, giving them comfort and love. That’s what we are to do with this cancel culture. We can hold out our arms to them, no matter what they say to us, and no matter what they try to do to us. We can pray for them, sacrifice for them, and slowly bring them in to our heart.
This culture is not cancel…I know what cancel is. Cancel is evil. We are living in an evil age. Actually, every age is evil. But, we don’t have to be like that. Remember, when you grow close to Jesus, you have both a gift and a command to go out and bring others in and to change the culture. What’s very sad about people who are caught up in the cancel culture is that they don’t see how blind they are. They are like someone who has had too much to drink. The cops stop them, and they say, “I only had two beers!” Really? That math is wrong. They can’t stand up, never mind drive. “I’m okay!” They don’t see it…they are blind. It’s just like alcohol blinds the alcoholic and dope blinds the dope addict. And, the only cure for that is divine love.
During my time working in hospitals, I’ve learned that the only proper way to treat a disease is to find out what the disease is. So, we shouldn’t say it’s a cancel culture when it’s an evil one. People who are not eradicating evil are promoting it. There’s a big difference. Saint Mother Teresa tried to eradicate evil, and look at the love she spread. So this is what we do. We don’t have to be like them; instead, we need to love them, to pray for them, and to sacrifice for them.
How will you apply this message to your life? Will you, like Saint Mother Teresa, try to eradicate evil by spreading God’s love?
You can read all of Father Fitzgibbons’ sermons by going to https://annunciationcatholicalbemarle.com/ and clicking on “Blog” then “Categories” and then “Sermon Notes. From a cell phone, click on “Blog” then “Menu” and then “Categories” (located at the end of page). There is also a search box if looking for a specific topic.
Nicholas, familiarly known as “Little John,” was small in stature but big in the esteem of his fellow Jesuits.
Born at Oxford, this humble artisan saved the lives of many priests and laypersons in England during the penal times (1559-1829), when a series of statutes punished Catholics for the practice of their faith. Over a period of about 20 years, Nicholas used his skills to build secret hiding places for priests throughout the country.
His work, which he did completely by himself as both architect and builder, was so good that time and time again priests in hiding were undetected by raiding parties. Nicholas was a genius at finding and creating places of safety: subterranean passages, small spaces between walls, impenetrable recesses.
At one point he was even able to mastermind the escape of two Jesuits from the Tower of London. Whenever Nicholas set out to design such hiding places, he began by receiving the holy Eucharist, and he would turn to God in prayer throughout the long, dangerous construction process.
After many years at his unusual task, Nicholas entered the Society of Jesus and served as a lay brother, although—for very good reasons—his connection with the Jesuits was kept secret.
After a number of narrow escapes, he himself was finally caught in 1594. Despite protracted torture, Nicholas refused to disclose the names of other Catholics. After being released following the payment of a ransom, “Little John” went back to his work. He was arrested again in 1606. This time he was subjected to horrible tortures, suffering an agonizing death. The jailers tried suggesting that he had confessed and committed suicide, but his heroism and sufferings soon were widely known.
Nicholas Owen was canonized in 1970 as one of the 40 Martyrs of England and Wales.
Reflection
Nicholas was a clever builder and architect who used his skills to protect endangered priests. Without his help, hundreds of English Catholics would have been deprived of the sacraments. His gift for spotting unlikely places to hide priests was impressive, but more impressive was his habit of seeking support for his work in prayer and the Eucharist. If we follow his example, we may also discover surprising ways to put our skills to God’s service.
Let us beset the just one, because he is obnoxious to us, he sets himself against our doings…. To us he is the censure of our thoughts. Merely to see him is a hardship.”—Wisdom 2:12, 14
“[Jesus] had decided not to travel in Judea because some of the Jews were looking for a chance to kill him…. Some of the people of Jerusalem remarked ‘Is this not the one they want to kill?’”—John 7:1, 25
We have perhaps read the studies which show that once a group has decided to differentiate itself from another group, the rules of conversation change toward that group. We are inclined to believe the worst of them, paranoia and conspiracy theories soon abound, they are fair game for the commentators, and our chosen mistrust looks for any justification whatsoever to fear, hate, or even kill. Soon any defensive or even offensive attacks toward that person or group are fully rationalized and justified. It is a rare person who can stand uninfluenced by this field of gossip and innuendo. This is the sad pattern of human history. It is just such an atmosphere that is presented in both readings today, as we near the climactic events of Holy Week. The taunting verses from the book of Wisdom sound familiar to most Christians because they are the backdrop of the Crucifixion scene: “If he is the son of God, then God will defend him.” In the full text we read a kind of bravado and defiance, daring the “just person” to prove himself. It feels like the school bully mocking the classmate who might be smarter, more popular, or even more mature. For some strange reason, fearful humans are threatened by anyone outside of their frame of reference. They are always a threat and must be brought down. The same pattern is then found in the Gospel. So strange that even religious authorities can speak openly of wanting to kill Jesus, and the crowds even openly know about this. What has religion come to? Vengeance is often an open, but denied secret when fear and gossip reign in a society. Every attempt is being made to discredit Jesus, and even his family of origin, which is a very common pattern. (The whole of John 7 might give you even more of the feeling of malice and intrigue than the selected passage here in the Lectionary.) Jesus is slowly being isolated for the attack, he moves around “secretly.” You can feel his loneliness and anguish, and all he can do is claim his true origins—to deaf ears. In these days, we are being invited to share in the passion of Jesus, and in the aloneness and fear of all who have been hated and hunted down since the beginning of time.
“God of loving truth, keep me from the world of gossip and accusation. Do not let me ‘kill’ others, even in my mind or heart.”
