In Catholic churches in Europe it is not unusual to see a picture of
St. John Nepomuk hanging on the door of confessionals. He is portrayed
as a confessor, in a cassock and surplice, with a violet stole hanging
from his shoulders, and his index finger raised to his lips — the
internationally recognized gesture for keeping quiet.
Like St. Thomas Becket, St. John Nepomuk was a high-ranking clergyman who ran
afoul of his king. As vicar general of Prague, John’s authority was second
only to that of the archbishop, and with his superior’s permission he exercised
his authority in defense of the Church.
The king of Bohemia, Wenceslaus IV, wanted to make one of his cronies a bishop.
When the abbot of an important monastery died, Wenceslaus supposed this was his
chance. He ordered the archbishop to designate the abbey church a new cathedral
and install the king’s candidate as the first bishop. As vicar general
John replied for the archbishop: the region around the monastery already had
a bishop, and canon law did not permit gerrymandering a diocese to accommodate
the whims of a king.
The fact that the answer came from Nepomuk was unfortunate. Wenceslaus already
held a grudge against John: a short time earlier, the king had suspected his
wife, Sophia, was cheating on him, and ordered John to reveal what the queen
had said on the subject in confession. As the seal of the confessional is absolute,
John refused to disclose anything. John’s reply enraged Wenceslaus, but
although he felt provoked, the king didn’t harm the priest.
Now, on the matter of creating a new diocese, Nepomuk had gotten in the king’s
way again. Wenceslaus ordered the arrest of John as well as three other members
of the household of the archbishop of Prague. Then he sent his prisoners to the
dungeon to be tortured. In their agony three of the clerics swore to uphold the
king’s “right” to create new dioceses and new bishops, but
John would not give in. The torturers racked him, whipped him, slashed him with
knives, held flaming torches against his sides and still he would not submit.
Finally, Wenceslaus put an end to the whole frustrating process. He had his men
gag John by wedging a wooden block in his mouth; then, loaded with chains, John
was dragged through the streets of Prague to a bridge over the Moldau River where
his guards lifted him over the railing and threw him into the water. Dragged
down by the weight of the chains, John drowned.
His body was recovered and buried in Prague’s cathedral of St. Vitus, where
crowds came to venerate him as a martyr for the liberty of the Church and of
the confessional. John’s cruel death also sparked a revolt among the noblemen
of Bohemia who drove Wenceslaus from power, and locked him prison. The king remained
there until the king of Hungary intervened and negotiated a truce between Wenceslaus
and the nobles.
Over the years John’s defense of canon law has been almost forgotten in
favor of his defense of the secrecy of the confessional. For his refusal to tell
what he heard in confession he is the patron saint of confessors, of penitents,
of discretion and of anyone obliged to keep a secret.
Craughwell is the author of numerous
books about the saints, including Saints Behaving Badly (Doubleday, 2006).
