If you are ever in Ft. Worth, Texas take time to visit the beautiful old cathedral of St. Patrick, and view the eighth window from the front on the north wall of the church. This beautiful stained glass window was made and installed sometime in the late 19th or early 20th centuries. Like all good religious art it is a creation that expresses both beauty and order. It is also an instrument for transmitting and strengthening the faith, and that brings us to the person whose image is portrayed in the window: St. Oliver Plunkett, bishop and martyr, whose feast day is July 11.

This saint came to mind with the recent public chastisement by a number of bishops of Catholic politicians who ignore or misrepresent Catholic moral teaching to justify their lethal partnership with the secular left in the blood trade of abortion.

The voice of our shepherds has certainly not been unanimous, and in parts of the country the silence has been thunderous. But the cry of the few was loud and clear! And welcome! And long overdue!

Nevertheless, the lack of unanimity among American bishops in responding to the blatant lies of Catholic politicians that abortion is morally acceptable is a mystery to most faithful Catholics. The teaching of the Church on this issue is, like the error to which the teaching is directed, absolutely clear. In fact, contrary to the politicians, there is nothing ambiguous about this teaching which has been taught since apostolic times. This is not one of those 1950s casuistic issues of “Father, if when I left the airport it was a day of abstinence, but I crossed the international dateline in flight, and arrived the ‘next day’ in another country, was it a sin to eat a double meat cheeseburger when I landed?”

Abortion is morally illicit. End of sermon. No need to look it up unless you are really stubborn or slow. But the answer will be the same even if you do look it up: It is intrinsically evil.

Furthermore, publicly teaching the truth about the humanity of the unborn is neither a treasonous offense nor otherwise criminally illegal in this country. The almost nonexistent risk to the personal safety of the bishops makes the thunderous episcopal silence even more enigmatic. But if members of the hierarchy need to buck up their faith, they ought to meditate on the life of Bishop Plunkett.

Oliver Plunkett was born in 1629 (or 1625 in some accounts) into an Anglo-Norman family in Loughcrew, Ireland. The Plunketts were landed gentry, with notable wealth. Oliver went to Rome to complete his formal education, and study for the priesthood. He was ordained in 1654, just a year before the end of the pontificate of Innocent X.

Upon the death in 1669 of Edmund O’Reilly, bishop of Armagh and primate of Ireland, Pope Clement IX named St. Oliver to succeed O’Reilly.  He was consecrated on November 30, 1669 in Ghent, Belgium, and received the pallium at a Consistory on July 28, 1670 during the papacy of Pope Clement X.

In 1669 the persecutions of Catholics in England and Ireland had eased somewhat, and Plunkett returned to Ireland to take possession of the See of Armagh, which was in chaos. For many years before his consecration as bishop the Irish had been subjected to fierce persecution, and many of the hierarchy and clergy had been killed, deported, or had fled the country for the safety of continental Europe. His predecessor, Archbishop O’Reilly, had lived in exile in France many years. The sad consequence of the disruption of clerical life in Ireland was a local Church that was in chaos, and rife with moral corruption. St. Oliver came home to Ireland to find a large number of corrupt and improperly formed clergymen, fighting among themselves over titles and privileges and leading less than virtuous lives. He also encountered a lax and uncatechized laity, thousands of whom had never received the sacraments, with many of those being in irregular marriages.

Undaunted by the trials that faced him, the 41 year old Plunkett immediately went to work to revive the Church in Ireland, and institute the reforms of the then recent Council of Trent (1545-1563). Within three months of his arrival in Ireland in March, 1670, according to letters which he wrote to friends and officials in Rome, he had convened one synod, ordained two priests, and administered Confirmation to 10,000 of his flock. In further correspondence to Rome, in 1673, he reported that he had confirmed over 40,000 persons, and convened another local synod.

The reprieve from religious persecution of Irish Catholics by the English was short lived. King Charles II and his government resumed the persecution. Churches and schools were closed, and many destroyed, including Puckett’s school for boys in Drogheda. Priests and religious, including Plunkett, were ordered to register for deportation. Unwilling to leave his persecuted flock without a shepherd, he went into hiding instead, and continued to minister to them and to lead his priests. He lived on the run for six years, living and hiding in forests, in out buildings, and in homes of the faithful, suffering hunger and cold. He went among his people when possible, frequently wearing disguises, and was always under the threat of capture. His deprivations and sufferings to bring the Sacraments and the Word of God to the souls under his care were many.

He was finally arrested on December 6, 1679, and incarcerated in Dublin Castle. Tried initially in Ireland, the prosecution’s evidence was so clearly perjured that the jury, Protestants all, refused to convict him. Not to be outdone by such simple justice, the government, mainly through the efforts of Anthony Cooper, 1st Earl of Shaftesbury, had the trial adjourned, and brought Puckett to London to stand trial there.

The perjured testimony against Plunkett was no less mendacious in London than in Dublin. He was convicted of high treason, sentenced to death. For his execution it was ordered that he be hung, drawn, disemboweled, and quartered. Upon being sentenced, with full knowledge of the horrible death that awaited him, St. Oliver said in a firm voice: “Deo Gratias.”

He was executed on July 11, 1681 at Tyburn just outside of London. According to John Brennan, Archbishop of Cashel, Ireland, and St. Oliver’s constant companion when he was on the run in Ireland, St. Oliver faced his executioners with deep faith and conviction. From the platform of the gallows he gave “a discourse worthy of an apostle and martyr,” said Bishop Brennan. He was then hung by the neck but not until dead, and then taken down, dragged to the execution table, and revived. His executioners then tied his arms and legs with ropes, and stretched his body taut on the execution table, upon which they disemboweled the saintly (and still conscious) bishop. Thereafter, his executioners decapitated him, and then cut off each of his limbs for good measure.

St. Oliver Plunkett was beatified by Pope Benedict XV in 1920, and canonized on October 10, 1975 by Pope Paul VI, the first Irishman in 700 years to be canonized.

The beauty and order created by the artist of the stained glass window in St. Patrick Cathedral that depicts the image of St. Oliver Plunkett reflects the Divine plan, which is instructive in itself. But the image of the courageous and holy Oliver Plunkett, his sanctity and membership in the communion of saints confirmed by the Church upon his canonization, reminds us all, and especially bishops and priests, that the Faith is not negotiable, and that while the cross is always there, so is the grace of God. Looking at that window and its image also reminds us of our privilege as Catholics to join in praise and worship of God along with St. Oliver Plunkett and the entire heavenly communion of saints, and to call upon the saint for assistance in our struggle to teach the Truth and hold fast to our Faith.

Deo Gratias!