Wednesday, January 14, 2009

While I only have 4 sons who serve at the altar, this poem from A Breath of Home rings a true bell with me.

Five Sons

Today, five sons,
Served on the altar.
Determined boys
Who would not falter.

Boys, at home,
Who fight and shove
But on the altar
Assist with love.

At home shouting,
From top of lung.
On the altar,
Latin’s sung.

At home running
Can’t sit still.
On the altar
Disciplined will.

At home throwing
Cereal, toast.
On the altar
Adoring Host.

At home bedrooms,
Scattered scene.
On the altar
Order, serene.

I, proud, mother,
Faithful to Rome,
Five sons on the altar,
Five men at home.

Friday, November 14, 2008

Yes, I know November

At Requiem Press we have a special devotion to and apostolate for praying for the holy souls in purgatory. (See our deep, deep discounts on holy soul prayer books during November.) Here is one of our favorite poems from a Breath of Home by Longskirts.

yes, i know november

Yes, I know November
The tolling of the bell,
The whispers of the suf’ring souls
From mountain top to dell.

The chilly, gray, damp mornings
The rusting of the leaves,
The whispers of the suf’ring souls
Like moans from one who grieves.

And in the windy noon-time
When clouds fight ‘gainst sun’s might,
The whispers of the suf’ring souls
Cry, "Sanctuary light!"

So ‘fore the red-glassed candle,
Compelled, I go to pray,
The whispers of the suf’ring souls
Plead, "Sacrifice today!"

Now, deep, dark sanctuary
Is lit by candle, bold,
The whispers of the suf’ring souls...
"Your prayers are autumn gold!"

So like the leaves of autumn
I fall to kneeling posture,
The whispers of the suf’ring souls
Beg, "Say a Pater Noster!"

The flicker in the red glass
Burns hotter, now, with Creed.
Oh, yes, I know November!
The month of Hope...souls freed!

Saturday, August 9, 2008

The Story of Our Lady of Victory!

Here is the text, along with a few of the illustrations from our first book for children-but still within our mission of Christian history.

Long ago, Moslem soldiers
Had something evil planned
They would conquer all of Europe
Which was a Christian land.

They would persecute the Christians
And kill each priest and nun,
Many Christians would become Moslems
When their dreadful work was done.

First Italy, then Switzerland,
Austria, Germany, France,
Spain, Portugal and Poland,
Had very little chance.

Don Juan of Austria came forward
He offered to lead the fleet
Of Christian ships and soldiers,
The Moslems to defeat.

But the Christians had little money
And so their fleet was small
Wile the Moslem fleet was very big-
It seemed Christian Europe would fall!

So the Pope sent word to all Christians
To pray the Rosary.
He knew the Blessed Mother
Would help in this necessity.

So Christians all over Europe
Knelt down and began to plead
That our Lady of Victory
Would help them in their need.

At last in the waters near Lepanto
The great battle was begun.
The Moslems had more men and ships
And yet, the Christians won!

The Pope stood by the window.
Though Lepanto was far away,
He turned and said, “Our Lady
Has given us victory this day!”

For Mary is our Mother.
The Rosary is her prayer,
And if we pray to her each day,
She’ll watch over us with care.

You can order a copy at It sells for $4.50 plus $1.50 S&H.

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

Theology of Martyrdom by Ronald Knox

An excerpt:

Of course, all that kind of argument is really based on a complete disbelief in the existence of absolute truth. The religion of the modern world is, ‘Be good, and you will go to heaven, if there is such a place.’ A martyr, in the essential signification of the term, means a man who dies, not merely to bear testimony, but to bear testimony to the truth. Edmund Campion died because he believed in the Pope and the Mass. Thomas Cranmer died because he disbelieved in the Pope and the Mass. It is an intelligible attitude to say that Crammer was a martyr and Campion was not. It is an intelligible attitude to say that neither Cranmer was a martyr nor Campion. But to say that both Crammer and Campion were martyrs is to say good-bye to all reason and all common-sense. Each of them died in the belief that he was bearing witness to the truth; and if you accept both testimonies indiscriminately, then you are making nonsense of them both. The only point in common between the two men is that both died for their religious opinions. It is ridiculous to suppose that either of them accepted death as a protest against the theory of religious persecution. On the contrary, Cranmer persecuted with the best of them. Neither of them minded being put to death for the sake of religion; but either protested that the religion which he died for was the true one. It is a poor compliment to such heroism to conclude that after all it does not much matter one way or the other!

In a word, the state of mind in which a man dies for a false religion may be, substantially, the same as the state of mind in which a man dies for a true religion — at any rate, there is no need to emphasize the difference. But states of mind are not everything. For us Catholics, there is such a thing as absolute truth, which is quite unaffected by states of mind on the part of those who defend or those who attack it. If we were considering the psychology of martyrdom, we might perhaps be content to rule out the whole notion of absolute truth. The psychologists do talk, nowadays, I understand, about what they call the martyr-complex. I should very much like to have the persecuting of these modern psychologists. Either they would recant, or I would send them off to be psychoanalyzed until they could get rid of their martyr-complex. But we are not considering the psychology of martyrdom; we are considering the theology of martyrdom. And martyrdom, as a theological term, means dying to bear witness to the true religion — which is, as we happen to know, the Catholic religion.

And martyrdom, in this sense, is something very much more than a state of mind. It is something which determines, and determines suddenly, the eternal welfare of a human soul; it is a direct gate to heaven, independent of baptism. The importance of martyrdom, therefore, for us, is not a question of sentimental appreciation or of pulpit rhetoric. It is a matter of plain, supernatural fact. There is your corpse; and theology has to decide whether the soul which belonged to it can or cannot safely be pronounced already in heaven. I say, independently of baptism; because the Church has recognized, from her very earliest beginnings, that an unbaptized person who seals with his blood the faith that has begun to dawn in him, is justified no less effectively than one over whom the saving waters of baptism have flowed. That is a case which does not often arise nowadays, except in missionary countries; but it is equally certain that martyrdom, in a baptized Christian, can have the effect of sacramental absolution. Some kind of sorrow for sin is doubtless required; but it is difficult to imagine anybody dying for the faith unless he had sorrow for his sins of a kind which would justify him in the confessional. Supposing that the sin is mortal, and hitherto unconfessed; supposing that the sorrow falls short of perfect contrition — the man has been killed; has he been martyred? If so, he is in heaven; if not, he is in hell.

The difference, then, between martyrdom and non-martyrdom is not a difference of words; it is a difference of hard facts. And, in view of the important effects which (according to the most primitive Christian tradition) martyrdom involves, it is not surprising that theologians speak of martyrdom as a quasi-sacrament. It is not, of course, a true sacrament; it lacks that quality of signification which the wordimplies; nothing in martyrdom symbolizes the grace which martyrdom wins. But it can be called a quasi-sacrament because it is a transaction in the natural order which produces its direct effects in the supernatural order. Something which happens to a man’s body has made a difference to the status of his soul.

But the resemblance to a sacrament lies deeper than this. We are all accustomed to the distinction in the theology of the Sacraments between the opus operatum and the opus operands; between the grace which is conferred alike on all those who receive the Sacrament, unless they actually have dispositions which render it unfruitful, and the grace which is given to various recipients in various degrees, according to the dispositions which they bring with them. Now, if you take the modern view about martyrdom, which we have just been discussing and rejecting, the effect of martyrdom must fall entirely under the heading of opus operantis. If nothing is valuable about martyrdom except the heroic fortitude with which the martyr despises life, then the man who is hanged, drawn, and quartered is more of a martyr than the man who is merely hanged, because it requires a higher degree of fortitude to face the one prospect than the other. All that difference we recognize — the difference, I mean, between the dispositions shown in this instance of martyrdom and in that. But we also recognize that martyrdom can produce an effect ex opera operato, independently of the dispositions in which it is met. In a word, it has what Dr. Barnes of Birmingham would call a magical effect. Martyrdom is like Confession or Communion, in the sense that we get something out of it over and above what we put into it.

Read the rest: available for $3.50 + shipping at Requiem Press

Thursday, June 26, 2008

a Breath of Home

Over the next few days I will be posting a few of my favorites from our latest release. Here's the first:

His Breviary Battered

In the fifth,
Two thousand six,
Melts the wax
Of candle sticks.

May moon, full,
Begins to wane,
Shadows race
Across the plain

Reaching gulfs,
The ocean tides
Break on beach
Where pride presides.

Cassocked in,
The thickest fog,
Plodding cross
The marshy bog.

Maddening moons,
Through the fire —
Near the depths
He wends on higher.

Many years,
Breviary tattered,
Deep in mists
His strength unshattered.

’Gainst black storms
Wet linen heavy,
Soul after soul...
Gives his life for each bevy.

And when he is called,
Because souls really mattered,
He will enter Reward...
With his breviary battered.

Saturday, June 21, 2008

Daily Prayers for the Church Suffering

We ship a free copy of this booklet with every order placed because we would like to spread devotion to praying for the Holy Souls in Purgatory. (It is also available for purchase, $1.85 for single copies, and discounted for large quantities.)

Below are a couple excerpts from the introduction followed by the prayer for Sunday. The booklet had prayers for every day of the week.



"It is therefore a holy and wholesome thought to pray for the dead, that they may be loosed from sins." 2 Macc. 12:46

"There shall not enter into it anything defiled…" Apoc. 21:27

Praying for the souls of the dead is a tradition which goes back to our Jewish heritage. Judas Machebeus collected silver to send to Jerusalem to be offered for the sins of those fallen in battle. He understood that nothing unclean or defiled could stand before God and therefore provided for the offerings for the souls of those who had died so that they could see God. ...

Our Catholic heritage is no less rich in the theology of praying for the souls of our beloved departed.

In the gospel of st. Matthew, in the parable of the unjust servant, our Lord tells us that our debts must be paid. ("And his lord being angry, delivered him to the torturers until he paid all the debt" - Mt. 18:34).

St. Paul says that we are saved only through fire (1 Cor. 3:15). St. Peter likens our trials to gold being tested by fire. (1 Peter 1:7).

The councils of Lyons II (1274 A.D.), Florence (1439 A.D.) and Trent (1563 A.D.) reaffirmed earlier traditions in the Church of the existence and purpose of purgatory – that place where those who have departed in the love of God but before complete satisfaction has been made for their sins may be purged in order that they can approach God unblemished. Further, the custom and tradition of the Church Militant – the faithful left here on earth – of praying, sacrificing, and giving alms on behalf of those souls in purgatory to make satisfaction for their sins and thus to shorten their time of purging, was reaffirmed by these councils also.

Purgatory is truly a grace of God because it is the nature of God which demands that those approaching be unblemished, and thus without purgatory, many would never reach Heaven. ...

These holy souls in purgatory, the Church Suffering, can not help themselves. The Church Triumphant, those who have entered into their Heavenly reward; the Church Suffering; and the Church Militant – these three are in reality one Communion of Saints. As the Church Militant we ask the Church Triumphant to intercede for us before God; we offer our prayers, fasting, and almsgiving to aid the Church Suffering. At every Mass during the Eucharistic Prayer, we pray for the souls of our departed loved ones, those gone before us "marked with the sign of faith."

With all this Catholic tradition, however, it seems that prayers for the holy souls in purgatory have waned as a private devotion in recent years. Funeral notices for Catholics rarely plead for Masses to be said for the departed. The Truth that God is all-merciful has been distorted to exclude the notion of purgatory – even though this exclusion distorts the true nature of God and the true nature of God’s mercy.



LORD God Almighty, I beseech Thee, by the Precious Blood which Thy Divine Son Jesus shed in the garden, deliver the souls in purgatory, and amongst them all, especially that soul which is most destitute of aid; and bring it to Thy glory, there to praise and bless Thee for ever. Amen.

Our Father, Hail Mary...

Psalm 129, "DE PROFUNDIS"

Out of the depths I have cried unto Thee, O Lord; Lord, hear my voice.

Let Thine ears be attentive to the voice of my supplication.

If Thou, O Lord, shalt mark our iniquities: O Lord, who can abide it?

For with Thee there is mercy, and by reason of Thy Law I have waited on Thee, O Lord.

My soul hath waited on His word; my soul hath hoped in the Lord.

From the morning watch even until night let Israel hope in the Lord.

For with the Lord there is mercy, and with Him is plentiful redemption.

And He shall redeem Israel from all her iniquities.

Eternal rest give to them O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them.

Let us Pray.

O GOD, the Creator and Redeemer of all Thy faithful, grant to the souls of Thy servants departed the remission of all their sins, that through pious supplications they may obtain that pardon which they have always desired; Who livest and reignest for ever and ever. Amen.

May they rest in peace. Amen.

Thursday, June 12, 2008

Giving Up Stealing for Lent!

Our next excerpt comes from Brother Charles Madden OFM Conv. recollections of his childhood. As the youngest of 11 children, he has some stories! This is a book that in one sense excerpts well as the chapters are short and stand pretty much on their own; but excerpts poorly because as you go through the book you really feel you are getting to know his family and thus the latter stories (or those you re-read) take on more significance-thus a short excerpt doesn't do the whole experience justice.

I am going to give you a taste of these stories over the next few days-this post will remain on top for this short series


Giving Up Stealing for Lent!: "The Great Sinner"

Tattling and Confession have a certain similarity in that both involve the revelation of sins. Tattling is the revelation of someone else’s sins; Confession is the revelation of your own sins. For Catholics, Confession of sins in the Sacrament of Penance is an integral part of our spiritual life. Protestants look askance at the practice, not understanding the Catholic belief that it is Christ acting through the priest who absolves sins. Yet there is a form of confession, an admission of guilt, in many Protestant Churches, sometimes in a very public way. It was this very public form that mystified and amused Uncle Jim.

For many years there was an excellent and very popular radio preacher, Pastor Reed of the Open Bible Church, whom many people of all faiths listened to every Sunday. Uncle Jim, Mom and Aunt Mike listened to him every Sunday, as did our Uncle Rob, another of Mom’s brothers. At the end of each program, letters from listeners were read. These letters tickled Uncle Jim’s fancy as often they recounted the sinful lives of the writer. He’d shake his head and chuckle, “They don’t believe in going to Confession but they’ll have their sins blasted out over the radio for all of Baltimore City to hear!”

Bill and Mike, hearing Uncle Jim make such comments week after week, decided one Sunday to have some fun. They composed a letter detailing a sinful life, a life that had been turned around by the preaching of Pastor Reed. They signed it “a great sinner”-giving Uncle Jim’s name and address!

The following Sunday Uncle Jim was having his usual chuckle during the letters portion of the broadcast—that is until he heard his own name given as the writer of a letter from “a great sinner.” Pandemonium and outrage! Uncle Jim shot out of his chair like a Fourth of July rocket shouting. Mom and Aunt Mike were equally angry. Then the telephone rang; it was Uncle Rob, laughing his head off and demanding to talk to “the great sinner”! Assuming Uncle Rob was the prankster, Mom blistered his ears, and Uncle Jim followed suit. All of Uncle Rob’s protests of innocence were in vain, partly because of his laughter, and partly because of his well- deserved reputation for pranks and the like.

For years thereafter, whenever Uncle Rob came to our house he would greet Uncle Jim as “the great sinner” and stir the whole thing up again. He always, with a big laugh, protested his innocence, but none of the three ever believed him. They all went to their graves convinced that he was the culprit. But Uncle Jim had no grounds for complaining about such pranks as he was as known to pull such stunts himself. He once sent the Jehovah’s Witnesses over to Aunt Florence’s house, causing her to be subjected to their preaching for three hours!

Giving Up Stealing for Lent! : Sunday Shoes

In every large family there are those who have the knack of getting away with everything and those who always get caught. Unfortunately for Mike, he was one of those who always get caught. He and Bill could both be up to their necks in what they shouldn’t be doing, but Bill had the knack of stopping in time—just a little before Mike got caught.

It was that way with their Sunday shoes. One Saturday Pop was going to the shoemaker’s so he told the two of them to give him the shoes they were wearing so they could be resoled. Pop told them to put on their Sunday shoes, but warned them that he didn’t want to see so much as a scratch on them when he came back.

After Pop left for the shoemaker’s shop, Bill suggested that he and Mike go hop a streetcar. The idea was agreeable to Mike, so they walked the block to the streetcar line. Hopping a streetcar simply meant jumping on the back bumper and holding on for a free ride on the back of the car. They jumped the first car that came along. Bill landed cleanly but Mike didn’t quite get high enough and didn’t have the leverage to pull his feet up on the bumper, which meant his nice Sunday shoes were dragging along the street!

At the first opportunity, Mike jumped off, stumbling off-balance onto the sidewalk. His shoes! They weren’t scratched—they just had nice big holes burnt clear through the toes! He knew he was doomed. And then he saw it—the big mass of blue uniform, a policeman. He grabbed Mike, spun him up against a wall, pulled out his billy club, and thoroughly lashed the back of his calves with the leather thongs. He spun Mike around again, and with his face right in Mike’s said, “My name is Officer Schultz, my badge number is 742. Now you go home and tell your daddy what I just did!” Mike shook his head yes, all the while thinking no, no, no. No way to explain, just go home and face the music.

Slinking in the door, Mike spied Bill calmly sitting there like all of the world was at peace. Apparently he jumped off several blocks later, unaware of Mike’s predicament. Just then, as luck would have it, Pop walked in, looked down, and then his eyes bulged. “They’re not your Sunday shoes! They can’t be your Sunday shoes! Nobody could do that to a pair of shoes in less than an hour!”

All Mike could do was shake his head, yes. Pop just kept backing away across the room pointing down and shaking his disbelieving head. It was one of the few times Pop ever seemed unnerved. Mike doesn’t remember being punished, but he did get a new pair of Sunday shoes!

Wednesday, June 4, 2008

Witnesses to the Holy Mass

Our first excerpt is from Witnesses to the Holy Mass and other sermons by Dom Bede Camm, O.S.B. This book first published in England in 1904 celebrates the English Martyrs and exhorts the Faithful to become more devout based on the example given by these courageous men and women.

The Requiem Press edition (our first full-length book) has converted English spellings to "American" spellings, has added footnotes translating Latin phrases, and added several footnotes on content.

The following is from the first chapter. (Footnotes in the book are not included in the excerpt.)

The Martyrs -the Consolation of the Heart of God

Sunday, May 1, 1904

In servis suis consolabitur Deus. — God shall find His consolation in His servants.”

WHAT a wonderful thought it is, dear brethren in Jesus Christ: how consoling and inspiring, that the great God who has all things and can do all things, whose bliss from all eternity has known no limits and no imperfections, should nevertheless desire our love, should yearn after it with unspeakable longing, should seek it with unwearied patience, and, having obtained it, should rejoice over it as a treasure of great price! “My son, give Me thy heart,” He cries to each one of us, and to those who respond to the call, to them He reveals all the hidden secrets of His heart, on them He pours out the riches of His love, in them He finds His consolation and His joy.

Our divine Lord asks for faithful friends, for friends who will be true till death, who will not shrink from trials and sufferings for His sake, who will embrace the cross with joy because it unites them more closely to Him, who will welcome persecution, torture — yes, and death itself — in order to prove more surely the reality and constancy of their devotion.

Our Lord does not seek for mere fair weather friends. It is very easy to think we love Him when all things are bright around us, easy to have hot feelings in prayer, to delight in beautiful services, music and ceremonial, easy to fancy we are very devout, as long as there is nothing serious to give up for God’s love, no fierce struggles with the world and the devil, no wearing conflict with the flesh. But it is temptation, it is sacrifice which proves and tests our love, it is the day of darkness and gloom which reveals the true nature of our devotion, and happy indeed are they who in the hour of trial are found faithful, even unto death, for they are those blessed ones who console the heart of God.

There never, perhaps, was a time when all things seemed brighter than in the early days of Henry VIII. Never had the Church seemed more flourishing, more prosperous, more honored. The beauty and riches of the churches were the wonder of Christendom, and foreign visitors to England were amazed at their magnificence. Stately monasteries and religious houses covered the land, and for the most part were filled with men and women who had given up the world for Christ, and whose lives of unostentatious beneficence made them beloved of the people around their gates. The bishops and higher clergy were learned and munificent, and foreign scholars, like the famous Erasmus, found in them their most generous patrons. A new life was transforming the ancient universities, where the study of Greek was eagerly pursued under the auspices of men like Colet and Fisher. The German heresiarchs, who were beginning their revolt against the Church and her teaching, found their most strenuous and formidable opponents in England, where the Lord High Chancellor of the realm — nay, the very monarch himself — did not disdain to break a lance with them on behalf of the orthodox faith. The king was the most brilliant, the most generous, the most devout in Christendom. He was wont to hear four or five Masses a day; he went on pilgrimage to the shrine of our Lady of Walsingham, walking the last few miles barefoot; he wrote treatises on theological subjects, such as the necessity of vocal prayer, and indeed until his elder brother’s death had intended to take holy orders. Above all he was the most strenuous supporter of the claims of the Holy See to be found in all his realms. When all was thus smiling who could have foreseen the storm?

Who would have guessed that a period of peace and sunshine was so suddenly to be changed into one of tempest and gloom?

And yet we now see clearly enough that there were ominous signs of the coming change, had men only looked for them, long before the storm finally broke. The land seemed full of beautiful fruits and flowers, but there was a blight in the air, a canker in the heart of it all. And this blight, this canker, was the prevailing worldliness of the time. All this material prosperity had had a corrupting effect on those to whose pastoral care the flock of Christ had been committed; the riches of the monastic orders had too often become a snare and a hindrance to regular observance; the bishops were in many cases rather statesmen and politicians than ministers of Christ. And, what was even worse, there was a strong undercurrent of what are known as Gallican ideas, a fatal consequence of the disedifying spectacle presented to Christendom by the great schism, and the various scandals to which it had given rise.

And so, when the storm burst and God looked down upon this land of ours to seek servants and friends after His own heart, he found so few, so very few. A little cloud, no bigger than a man’s hand at first, had risen in the sky, and before men were aware of it, it had overshadowed the heavens from one end to another, and as the lightning flashed and the thunder rolled, the shep­herds cowered trembling before the fury of the storm, and too often fled, leaving their flocks to perish. Yet even here, God found His consolation in His faithful servants.

Thus, when the Duke of Norfolk warned the Blessed Thomas More that the anger of the king was death (Indignatio principis mors est), the blessed martyr calmly replied: “Then the only difference between you and me, my lord, is that I must die today and you tomorrow.”

I need not say much as to the causes of the fierce persecution which now broke upon England. You all know that it was directly due to the evil passions of the king. He fell into sin and desired a woman who was not his wife, and tried by every means to induce the Pope to grant him his unlawful desire. When he found that both threats and cajolery were powerless to obtain from the Holy See a license for bigamy, he determined to make himself Pope and drag the country with him into heresy and schism. Henry’s dominant passions were obstinacy and self-will, and these fatal passions hurried him along the downward path, for he was too proud ever to own himself in the wrong, or to retrace the steps once taken. He had threatened the Pope that if he would not yield to his wishes he would set up a schismatic church, and he was determined to keep his word, though he fully knew the heinousness of such a crime. And he pursued his course to the bitter end, though he had to shed rivers of blood — the best and purest blood in England — before he could consummate his apostasy. Unhappily he had at his side a minister, Thomas Cromwell, whose avowed aim was to satisfy in all things his master’s desires whether lawful or not. This man’s Machiavellian policy was but too faithfully imitated by the apostate archbishop, Thomas Cranmer, a man who had been raised to the chair of St. Augustine in order to assist the king in his evil work, and who never shrank from any infamy at his master’s bidding. And thus the hour of trial came on England, and alas! for the most part, found her unprepared.

In the spring of 1534 the parliament, clergy and people were called upon to take an oath by which they acknowledged the validity of the king’s marriage with Anne Boleyn, and repudiated his former marriage as unlawful. This, indirectly at least, aimed at the authority of the Roman pontiff, for it denied his right to interfere in the matter, and he had just pronounced against the king’s second marriage and commanded him to return to his lawful wife. Nevertheless, the great majority of clergy and people were so cowed by the Tudor tyranny, so terrified by the frightful vengeance taken on those who dared to withstand the royal will, that they yielded and took the oath. Most of them thought, no doubt, that this was but a passing storm, and that when the king’s passion for Anne Boleyn had been satisfied he would be reconciled once more to the Holy See and to his outraged wife; and that in the meantime they could thus preserve their property and their lives.

And so, my brethren, when God sought for faithful friends, He found but few. Yet, thank God, there were some, some to console His heart. Some there were who only longed to share the cross of their Lord, whose one desire was to bear witness to the truth, to give their lives for Him who had given His for them, to be faithful even unto death. And these brave men consoled His sacred Heart.

There was here in London a house of religious men, of whom it was commonly said that if it were possible that angels could live on earth in human flesh, they were to be found among the monks of the London Charterhouse. Of these men it might be said, as of my holy father St. Benedict, that they despised the world as a withered flower, only fit to be thrown away. Some had left great positions in the world, even the very king’s court, to consecrate themselves to a life of prayer and austerity. These men were ready; they were faithful, and in them God found His consolation.

When the commissioners came to the London Charterhouse and summoned the monks to take the oath, the holy prior expressed his astonishment that a marriage sanctioned by the Holy See and consecrated by long years of undisputed intercourse should now be called in question. He and a companion were at once sent to the Tower……..

To read the rest of this inspiring story and five other sermons about the heroic English martyrs persecuted under Henry VIII and Elizabeth I, order your copy today!

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