Os Justi Press is carrying two books by Hilaire Belloc: Wolsey and Cranmer. They have been brought back into print by Mysterium Press in the U.K. The U.K. publisher has sent me copies of both books to read!
As the publisher describes the book about Wolsey:In Christendom on the eve of its destruction, Cardinal Thomas Wolsey was to be identified with England. In one hand was held the ropes of Church and State, and when he fell what he had made was used to destroy all that he had known. A peerless administrator who blundered abroad but remained supreme at home, Wolsey's intelligence and industry were matched by his ambition and myopia, and his inability to comprehend the inmost thoughts of man proved fatal. Master historian Hilaire Belloc paints a portrait of the low-born cleric who might have stopped the Reformation, but who in putting himself first, and distracted by the closest thing to hand, unwittingly steered England toward its ruin.Further research and information on the English Reformation, English Catholic martyrs, and related topics by the author of SUPREMACY AND SURVIVAL: HOW CATHOLICS ENDURED THE ENGLISH REFORMATION
Monday, December 23, 2024
Belloc on Wolsey and Cranmer
Friday, December 20, 2024
Saint Robert Southwell's Nativity Poems
In this article from the Catholic Exchange, Louise Merrie writes about "A Martyred Saint’s Christmastime Poetry":
In his Nativity poems, Saint Robert Southwell wrote about his love for the Infant Jesus, Jesus’ love for us, and the amazing meaning of His Incarnation—even though Jesus came to us as a baby, He was still powerful because of His Divinity. This Christmas Season is an ideal time for Catholics to read Saint Robert’s poems on the Infant Jesus.“The Burning Babe” may be Saint Robert Southwell’s most famous poem. It begins with a vision of the baby Jesus on a cold winter’s day, Christmas day. Jesus glows brightly with the warmth of His love, but crying, says, “Yet none approach to warm their hearts/Or feel my fire, but I.” Although written many years before Jesus’ revelations of His Sacred Heart to Saint Margaret Mary, the imagery and message are similar to the Sacred Heart devotion and the words of the Litany referring to Jesus’ Sacred Heart as a “burning furnace of charity.”
“New Heaven, New War” is set in the stable of Bethlehem, where angels honor and care for the baby Jesus, in his new earthly home. Although seemingly helpless as a baby in His human nature, Jesus is powerful in His Divine nature, and has come to defeat the forces of evil. “This little Babe so few days old, /Is come to rifle Satan’s fold;… For in this weak unarmed wise, /The gates of hell he will surprise.”As I in hoary winter’s night stood shivering in the snow,Surpris’d I was with sudden heat which made my heart to glow;And lifting up a fearful eye to view what fire was near,A pretty Babe all burning bright did in the air appear;Who, scorched with excessive heat, such floods of tears did shedAs though his floods should quench his flames which with his tears were fed.“Alas!” quoth he, “but newly born, in fiery heats I fry,Yet none approach to warm their hearts or feel my fire but I!My faultless breast the furnace is, the fuel wounding thorns,Love is the fire, and sighs the smoke, the ashes shame and scorns;The fuel Justice layeth on, and Mercy blows the coals,The metal in this furnace wrought are men’s defiled souls,For which, as now on fire I am to work them to their good,So will I melt into a bath to wash them in my blood.”With this he vanish’d out of sight and swiftly shrunk away,And straight I called unto mind that it was Christmas day.
Come to your heaven, you heavenly choirs,Earth hath the heaven of your desires.Remove your dwelling to your God;A stall is now his best abode.Sith men their homage do deny,Come, angels, all their fault supply.His chilling cold doth heat require;Come, seraphins, in lieu of fire.This little ark no cover hath;Let cherubs’ wings his body swathe.Come, Raphael, this babe must eat;Provide our little Toby meat.Let Gabriel be now his groom,That first took up his earthly room.Let Michael stand in his defense,Whom love hath linked to feeble sense.Let graces rock when he doth cry,And angels sing his lullaby.The same you saw in heavenly seatIs he that now sucks Mary’s teat;Agnize your king a mortal wight,His borrowed weed lets not your sight.Come, kiss the manger where he lies,That is your bliss above the skies.This little babe, so few days old,Is come to rifle Satan’s fold;All hell doth at his presence quake.Though he himself for cold do shake,For in this weak unarmèd wiseThe gates of hell he will surprise.With tears he fights and wins the field;His naked breast stands for a shield;His battering shot are babish cries,His arrows looks of weeping eyes,His martial ensigns cold and need,And feeble flesh his warrior’s steed.His camp is pitchèd in a stall,His bulwark but a broken wall,The crib his trench, hay stalks his stakes,Of shepherds he his muster makes;And thus, as sure his foe to wound,The angels’ trumps alarum sound.My soul, with Christ join thou in fight;Stick to the tents that he hath pight;Within his crib is surest ward,This little babe will be thy guard.If thou wilt foil thy foes with joy,Then flit not from this heavenly boy.
Whose heart no thought, whose tongue no word, whose hand no deed defiled.
I praise Him most, I love Him best, all praise and love is His;
While Him I love, in Him I live, and cannot live amiss.
Love's sweetest mark, laud's highest theme, man's most desired light,
To love Him life, to leave Him death, to live in Him delight.
He mine by gift, I His by debt, thus each to other due;
First friend He was, best friend He is, all times will try Him true.
Though young, yet wise; though small, yet strong; though man, yet God He is:
As wise, He knows; as strong, He can; as God, He loves to bless.
His knowledge rules, His strength defends, His love doth cherish all;
His birth our joy, His life our light, His death our end of thrall.
Alas! He weeps, He sighs, He pants, yet do His angels sing;
Out of His tears, His sighs and throbs, doth bud a joyful spring.
Almighty Babe, whose tender arms can force all foes to fly,
Correct my faults, protect my life, direct me when I die!
Monday, December 16, 2024
What I'm Reading Now: "John Henry Newman: A Life Sacrificed"
This unparalleled introduction to St. John Henry Newman—mind, heart, soul, and personality—brings the great cardinal to life before our eyes, and with him the charged air of nineteenth-century England. Drawing from his letters, writings, and journal entries with precision and poetic flair, the book is one of Ida Friederike Görres’ masterworks.
While famous for his brilliance, Cardinal Newman did not hide in an ivory tower. His life was one of risk, sacrifice, and immense charity. His sharp turn to Catholicism rocked the University of Oxford, costing him his friendships, his livelihood, and his identity. Through failures and disappointments, over and over again, Newman let himself be recreated by God.
This work, in Görres’ words, is a portrait of “the boy, puzzled, who was startled and overwhelmed by God; the active, creative young prophet of his church in crisis; the hermit, who he was and wanted to be all his life; and the fighter, who he was with and against his will: the saint of the Church and the saint of humility, the one perfected in sacrifice”.
With an in-depth introduction by Ratzinger Prize winner Hanna-Barbara Gerl-Falkovitz, an extensive commentary by translator Jennifer S. Bryson, and a detailed index*, the book introduces readers not only to St. John Henry Newman, but to Görres, one of the greatest hagiographers of the twentieth century, whose spiritual writings have only recently been discovered by the English-speaking world.
Friday, December 13, 2024
Preview: "Shrinking from Christ's Coming" on the SRMS
Before we enter the final liturgical preparations for the Coming of Jesus as an infant in Bethlehem, the Church has us thinking about Our Lord's Second Coming. Saint John Henry Newman reflected on this theme in one of his Advent Parochial and Plain Sermons, "Shrinking from Christ's Coming" and that will be our subject on Monday, December 16 on the Son Rise Morning Show.
But on Monday, December 16, I'll be on the air at my usual time at the top of the second national hour, about 7:50 a.m. Eastern/6:50 a.m. Central. Please listen live here or catch the podcast later here.
Saint Bernard of Clairvaux preached a famous Advent sermon commenting on the Three Comings of Christ:
In the first coming he was seen on earth, dwelling among men; he himself testifies that they saw him and hated him. In the final coming all flesh will see the salvation of our God, and they will look on him whom they pierced. The intermediate coming is a hidden one; in it only the elect see the Lord within their own selves, and they are saved. In his first coming our Lord came in our flesh and in our weakness; in this middle coming he comes in spirit and in power; in the final coming he will be seen in glory and majesty.This middle coming is like a road that leads from the first coming to the last. At the first, Christ was our redemption; at the last, he will become manifest as our life; but in this middle way he is our rest and our consolation.
I have often heard Advent sermons in which the priest commented on that "intermediate coming" in different ways: comparing it to when each of us dies and sees Jesus in our particular judgment, or in the way that Saint Bernard did, as the indwelling of the Spirit of God (discussed as an influence of the Greek Fathers on Newman in a recent series), or as when we receive the Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity of Jesus in Holy Communion.
In this Advent PPS, Newman speaks of both that intermediate coming now and the Second Coming to come and describes how we should pray for those comings with both hopefulness and awe. The verse for this sermon is "Thine eyes shall see the King in His beauty: they shall behold the land that is very far off." Isaiah 33:17 and Newman begins with the Old Testament prophecies:
BEFORE Christ came, the faithful remnant of Israel were consoled with the promise that "their eyes should see" Him, who was to be their salvation. "For you who fear my name the sun of righteousness shall rise, with healing in its wings" (Malachi 4:2). Yet it is observable that the prophecy, though cheering and encouraging, had with it something of an awful character too. First, it was said, "The Lord whom you seek will suddenly come to his temple; the messenger of the covenant in whom you delight." Yet it is soon added, "But who can endure the day of his coming, and who can stand when he appears? For he is like a refiner's fire and like fuller's soap." (Malachi 3:1-2)
Reading those verses from Malachi immediately makes me think of Handel's Messiah (without the soap).
Newman then turns from those Old Testament prophecies to Christians now praying and waiting for Christ to return and asks: can any of us think that we are ready if He comes sooner rather than later? Are we ready for judgement?
We too are looking out for Christ's coming,—we are bid look out,—we are bid pray for it; and yet it is to be a time of judgment. It is to be the deliverance of all Saints from sin and sorrow for ever; yet they, every one of them, must undergo an awful trial. How then can any look forward to it with joy, not knowing (for no one knows) the certainty of his own salvation? And the difficulty is increased when we come to pray for it,—to pray for its coming soon: how can we pray that Christ would come, that the day of judgment would hasten, that His kingdom would come, that His kingdom may be at once,—may come on us this day or tomorrow,—when by so coming He would be shortening the time of our present life, and cut off those precious years given us for conversion, amendment, repentance and sanctification? Is there not an inconsistency in professing to wish our Judge already come, when we do not feel ourselves ready for Him? In what sense can we really and heartily pray that He would cut short the time, when our conscience tells us that, even were our life longest, we should have much to do in a few years?
And yet he reminds his congregation that while we are aware of our sinfulness and unworthiness, not just when we think about His Second Coming but whenever we pray, because, as he states "I am in myself nothing but a sinner, a man of unclean lips and earthly heart. I am not worthy to enter into His presence. I am not worthy of the least of all His mercies. I know He is All-holy, yet I come before Him . . ." There is no one else we can go to, he says, and we have to rely on God's mercy: we know that "He is All-merciful, and that He so sincerely desires my salvation that He has died for me."
Newman offers consolation to one afraid of judgement because of her sin:
And yet there is a certain composure and dignity which become us who are born of immortal seed, when we come before our Father. If indeed we have habitually lived to the world, then truly it is natural we should attempt to fly from Him whom we have pierced. Then may we well call on the mountains to fall on us, and on the hills to cover us. But if we have lived, however imperfectly, yet habitually, in His fear, if we trust that His Spirit is in us, then we need not be ashamed before Him. We shall then come before Him, as now we come to pray—with profound abasement, with awe, with self-renunciation, still as relying upon the Spirit which He has given us, with our faculties about us, with a collected and determined mind, and with hope. He who cannot pray for Christ's coming, ought not in consistency to pray at all.
Newman does not think that we are all "sinners in the hands of an angry God"!
Finally, Newman brings up the Anglican sacrament of Holy Communion, in which he believed there was a Real Presence of Jesus (we discussed his sermon "The Eucharistic Presence" in April this year):
I have spoken of coming to God in prayer generally; but if this is awful, much more is coming to Him in the Sacrament of Holy Communion; for this is in very form an anticipation of His coming, a near presence of Him in earnest of it. They indeed who are in the religious practice of communicating, understand well enough how it is possible to feel afraid and yet to come. Surely it is possible, and the case is the same as regards the future day of Christ. You must tremble, and yet pray for it. . . . Such is the temper in which we desire to come to the Lord's table; such in which we must pray for His coming; such in which His elect will stand before Him when He comes.
Since the pontificate of Pope Saint Pius X we the laity have been encouraged to receive Holy Communion more often, even daily at Mass, but we are also encouraged to examine our consciences and prepare ourselves with Confession if we have committed Mortal Sin before receiving the Eucharist, and of course to fast and pray. I appreciate Newman's warning not to take this privilege for granted or thoughtlessly.
Saint John Henry Newman, pray for us!