Five Years Ago Today: Day 2 of Papal Visit (Westminster)

On the second day of his visit, Pope Benedict celebrated Catholic education at St. Mary's University College, Twickenham, held an ecumenical meeting, and then visited Rowan Williams, then the Archbishop of Canterbury at Lambeth Palace, addressed Parliament and "civil society" in Westminster Hall, Westminster Palace, and then celebrated Evensong at Westminster Abbey.

After the visit, Edward Pentin wrote in The National Catholic Register about how extraordinary these events and the access the Pope had received were:

A week after Pope Benedict XVI’s visit to Scotland and England and its historical significance is still reverberating.

The first state visit by a Pope to Britain was remarkable in many different ways, not least because of the graciousness and generosity shown by Queen Elizabeth II.

Here was a Pope coming to the United Kingdom at the invitation of Her Majesty, the supreme governor of a church that violently split from Rome 500 years ago. Yet she gave him free rein to address her subjects as he saw fit – even beatify one who left her church to come over to Rome.

For the first time, a ruling English monarch allowed the Successor of Peter to address her Parliament, attend a liturgy in the church of her Coronation, and even to pray with her archbishop at the tomb of the Royal Family’s patron saint. Her government also hosted unprecedented formal bilateral talks with Holy See officials. . . .

It was a remarkable turn of events and a highly significant moment in British history. Were they alive today, the Queen’s Tudor predecessors would have been flabbergasted and probably summoned her executioner. More, Fisher and Campion, on the other hand, would be rejoicing.

It was at Westminster Hall that Pope Benedict made his remarks about St. Thomas More:

As I speak to you in this historic setting, I think of the countless men and women down the centuries who have played their part in the momentous events that have taken place within these walls and have shaped the lives of many generations of Britons, and others besides. In particular, I recall the figure of Saint Thomas More, the great English scholar and statesman, who is admired by believers and non-believers alike for the integrity with which he followed his conscience, even at the cost of displeasing the sovereign whose “good servant” he was, because he chose to serve God first. The dilemma which faced More in those difficult times, the perennial question of the relationship between what is owed to Caesar and what is owed to God, allows me the opportunity to reflect with you briefly on the proper place of religious belief within the political process.

This country’s Parliamentary tradition owes much to the national instinct for moderation, to the desire to achieve a genuine balance between the legitimate claims of government and the rights of those subject to it. While decisive steps have been taken at several points in your history to place limits on the exercise of power, the nation’s political institutions have been able to evolve with a remarkable degree of stability. In the process, Britain has emerged as a pluralist democracy which places great value on freedom of speech, freedom of political affiliation and respect for the rule of law, with a strong sense of the individual’s rights and duties, and of the equality of all citizens before the law. While couched in different language, Catholic social teaching has much in common with this approach, in its overriding concern to safeguard the unique dignity of every human person, created in the image and likeness of God, and in its emphasis on the duty of civil authority to foster the common good.

And yet the fundamental questions at stake in Thomas More’s trial continue to present themselves in ever-changing terms as new social conditions emerge. Each generation, as it seeks to advance the common good, must ask anew: what are the requirements that governments may reasonably impose upon citizens, and how far do they extend? By appeal to what authority can moral dilemmas be resolved? These questions take us directly to the ethical foundations of civil discourse. If the moral principles underpinning the democratic process are themselves determined by nothing more solid than social consensus, then the fragility of the process becomes all too evident - herein lies the real challenge for democracy.

480 Years Ago Today: The Trial of St. John Fisher

On June 17, 1535, John Fisher, former Bishop of Rochester (Henry VIII had stripped him of his title) left the Tower of London to be tried in Westminster Hall. The charge against him was that:

He falsely, maliciously, and traitorously wished, willed, and desired, and by craft imagined, invented, practised, and attempted to deprive the king of the dignity, title, and name of his royal estate, that is of his title and name of supreme head of the church of England, in the Tower, on 7th day of May last, when, contrary to his allegiance, he said and pronounced, in the presence of different true subjects, falsely, maliciously, and traitorously, these words: "The king our sovereign lord is not supreme head on earth of the church of England."

Rich, the Solicitor-General, was the main witness for the prosecution. He admitted to having played the part of an agent provocateur when he had visited the bishop in the Tower with the confidential message from the king, and he gave Fisher's denial of the Royal Supremacy in evidence against him despite the solemn promise given to him in the name of the king that this would not happen. The cardinal protested indignantly at Rich's treacherous conduct[.]

Of course, there was no real, just trial: the purpose of the gathering in Westminster Hall was to sentence to death the man Henry VIII had previously regarded as the holiest bishop in England. Although he argued that when he spoke to Richard Rich there was no malice or falsehood, Thomas Audley as Chancellor told him that any speaking against the King's position as Supreme Head of the Church of England was treason.

My lords, I am here condemned before you of high treason for denial of the King's supremacy over the Church of England, but by what order of justice I leave to God, Who is the searcher both of the king his Majesty's conscience and yours; nevertheless, being found guilty, as it is termed, I am and must be contented with all that God shall send, to whose will I wholly refer and submit myself. And now to tell you plainly my mind, touching this matter of the king's supremacy, I think indeed, and always have thought, and do now lastly affirm, that His Grace cannot justly claim any such supremacy over the Church of God as he now taketh upon him; neither hath (it) been seen or heard of that any temporal prince before his days hath presumed to that dignity; wherefore, if the king will now adventure himself in proceeding in this strange and unwonted case, so no doubt but he shall deeply incur the grievous displeasure of the Almighty, to the great damage of his own soul, and of many others, and to the utter ruin of this realm committed to his charge, wherefore, I pray God his Grace may remember himself in good time, and harken to good counsel for the preservation of himself and his realm and the quietness of all Christendom.

According to this website, the court was moved but not enough to do the right thing:

William Rastell, a lawyer nephew of Sir Thomas More who was present at the Fisher trial, leaves us the following account of the bishop's valedictory statement: "He showed himself excellently and profoundly learned, of great constancy and of a marvellous godly courage, and declared the whole matter so learnedly and therewith so godly, that it made many of those present, and some of their judges also, so inwardly to lament, that their eyes burst out with tears to see such a great famous cleric and virtuous bishop to be condemned to so cruel a death by such impious laws and by such an unlawful and detestable witness (Richard Rich), contrary to all human honesty and fidelity."

From June 17 to June 22, Cardinal Fisher--Pope Paul III had named him a cardinal in the hopes that Henry VIII would show some respect and leniency to a prince of the Church, seriously misjudging Henry--prepared for death. As he had suffered great want and deprivation in the Tower of London, so much so that he was too weak to walk from the Tower to Westminster Hall, Henry commuted his sentence from being hung, drawn and quartered at Tyburn to being beheaded on Tower Hill. Long before his trial, he had begged Cromwell for some clothing and food (on December 22, 1534):

I beseech you to be a good master to me in my necessity. I have neither shirt nor suit, nor yet other clothes, that are necessary for me to wear, but that be ragged and rent shamefully. Notwithstanding I might easily suffer that, if they would keep my body warm. But my diet also, God knoweth how slender it is at many times, and now in mine age my stomach may not away but with a few kinds of meats, which if I want I decay forthwith, and fall into coughs and diseases of my body, and cannot keep myself in health. But as our Lord knoweth, I have nothing left unto me to provide any better, but as my brother of his own purse layeth out to me to his great hindrance.

Wherefore good Master Secretary eftsoons I beseech you to have some pity upon me, and let me have such things as are necessary for me in mine age and especially for my health. And also that it may please you by your high wisdom to move the king's highness to take me unto his gracious favour again, and to restore me unto my liberty out of this cold and painful imprisonment; whereby ye shall find me to be your poor beadman for ever unto Almighty God, who ever have you in his protection and custody.

He had also begged to have a confessor and attend Mass, but to no avail. Henry and Cromwell couldn't even allow Fisher some peace and comfort in his last days:

Chapuys, the imperial ambassador, wrote to Charles V on 30 June 1535: "They gave him (Fisher) as a confessor, a sworn enemy of his, and the staunchest Lutheran in the world as well as the originator of all the devilish acts practiced here; who, however, was so much edified by the bishop's countenance and behavior on the scaffold that he ceases not to say, that one of the best and holiest men in the world has been executed."

Henry VIII would go on to try to destroy all the evidence of Bishop Fisher's good work, even that great work Fisher had done with the support of Henry VIII's own grandmother, Margaret Beaufort, at St. John's College, University of Cambridge. He had preachers denounce Fisher (and More), diplomats denigrate his career, and everything possible done to remove remembrance of this great and holy man. Bishops Gardiner (another blot against his character) and Sampson also attacked Fisher in print after his death. Cromwell blamed the Pope for Fisher's execution, saying that if he had not been named Cardinal, Henry might have . . . what? St. John Fisher had opposed Henry's wishes in the Great Matter from the beginning; he was never going to receive any mercy or even justice.

A Guide to Catholic London

In preparation for visits to London during the Olympics this summer, the Catholic News Service offers this guide by Simon Caldwell to important churches and sites in connection with Catholic history:

LONDON (CNS) -- Visitors to the 2012 Olympic Games might be surprised to discover the extent to which London has been marked by the Catholic faith over the centuries. Riding the trains of the London Underground they notice stations with names such as Temple, Blackfriars, Charing Cross and Covent Garden. Above ground, the traces of Catholicism are yet more noticeable: Whitefriars, Greyfriars, Ave Maria Lane and Paternoster Square all denote a rich Catholic heritage that precedes the Reformation.

Catholics never left London, and during the 16th and 17th centuries they soaked the city with their blood, with 105 beatified and canonized martyrs dying on the Tyburn gallows, while many others were executed in other parts of the capital. However, the hope and new confidence that was ushered in with the "second spring" of the 19th century means that, today, stunning Catholic cathedrals and churches again adorn the city landscape. Here are a number of sites well worth a visit, not listed in order of importance or prominence:

1. Tyburn Convent. This is the motherhouse of the Adorers of the Sacred Heart of Jesus of Montmartre, an order of cloistered Benedictine nuns, and it stands just yards from the site of the infamous "Tyburn Tree" on which more than a hundred Catholics died for their faith during the Reformation. It houses the Martyrs' Crypt, which contains bones, hair, scraps of bloodied shirts, fragments of rope and other such relics salvaged secretly by Catholics and preserved for generations. The convent is increasingly popular with visitors from the U.S., and Boston Cardinal Sean P. O'Malley often asks to celebrate Mass there when is passing through London. The nuns will show visitors around the ground. http://www.tyburnconvent.org.uk/

2. The Church of the Immaculate Conception, Farm Street. Because of its proximity to the U.S. Embassy, the mother church of the English Jesuit province is sometimes considered the "American church." It is worth a visit because it is the finest Catholic example of the Victorian Gothic Revival in London and one of the most beautiful churches in the city, the grandeur of its architecture exuding the joyful hope of English Catholics as they emerged from a long period of suffering. http://www.farmstreet.org.uk/

3. Westminster Cathedral. A Byzantine-style structure designed by John Francis Bentley and opened in 1903, this is the mother church of the Catholic Church in England and Wales. It is not yet completed, and mosaics are being added all the time. It is the burial place of Cardinal George Basil Hume and the other archbishops of Westminster and also of St. John Southworth, a 17th-century martyr. Take the elevator up the bell tower (the bell is named Edward after St. Edward the Confessor, patron of the archdiocese) for a spectacular view across to Buckingham Palace. http://www.westminstercathedral.org.uk/

He also mentions the London (Brompton) Oratory--the picture above is the statue of Blessed John Henry Newman there--and a few other sites I appreciated:

At London Charterhouse there are still the remains of the Carthusian priory where St. John Houghton celebrated a Mass of the Holy Spirit before refusing to take the oath attached to the Act of Succession, resulting in him becoming the first martyr of the Reformation, May 4, 1535.

In London's West End is the church of Our Lady of the Assumption and St. Gregory, Warwick Street. This was formerly the chapel of the Bavarian and Portuguese embassies and was, for a period, one of the few places in London where Catholics were free to attend Mass. It was destroyed in the Gordon Riots and rebuilt but still offers good examples of English Baroque architecture. . . .

Not far away is the Anglican church of St. Giles in the Fields. Eleven Catholic martyrs are buried against its northern wall, including four Jesuits and their provincial who were executed June 20, 1679, amid the hysteria of the fabricated "Popish Plot" of Titus Oates.

Read the rest here: sounds like a great itinerary! I would never even see an Olympic event.

The Trial of St. Thomas More

Sir Thomas More was tried for treason on July 1, 1535 in Westminster Hall. This site provides a wealth of documentation and analysis of the trial. As More was trained as a lawyer and a judge, only the perjury of Sir Richard Rich, the Worst Briton of the 16th Century (per the BBC) could have--if justice were to be served--led to his condemnation and execution. From the transcript of the trial:

This my Indictment, if I mistake not, consists of four principal Heads, each of which I purpose, God willing, to answer in order. As to the first Crime objected against me, that I have been an Enemy out of stubbornness of Mind to the King's second Marriage; I confess, I always told his Majesty my Opinion of it, according to the Dictates of my Conscience, which I neither ever would, nor ought to have concealed: for which I am so far from thinking my self guilty of High-Treason, that on the contrary, being re­quired to give my Opinion by so great a Prince in an Affair of so much importance, upon which the Peace of the Kingdom depended; I should have basely flatter'd him, and my own Conscience, had not I spoke the Truth as I thought: Then indeed I might justly have been esteemed a molt wicked Subject, and a perfidious Traitor to God. If I have offended the King herein; if it can be an Offence to tell one's Mind freely, when his Sovereign puts the Question to him; I suppose I have been sufficiently punish'd already for the Fault, by the great Afflictions I have en­dured, by the loss of my Estate, and my tedious Imprisonment, which has continued already near fifteen Months.

The second Charge against me is, That I have violated the Act made in the last Parliament: that is, being a Prisoner, and twice examined, I would not, out of a malignant, perfidious, obstinate and traitorous Mind, tell them my Opinion, whether the King was Supreme Head of the Church or not; but confessed then, that I had no­thing to do with that Act, as to the Justice or Injustice of it, because I had no Benefice in the Church: yet then I protested, that I had never said nor done any thing against it; neither can any one Word or Action of mine be alleged, or pro­duced, to make me culpable. Nay, this I own was then my Answer to their Honours, that I would think of nothing else hereafter, but of the bitter Passions of our Blessed Saviour, and of my Exit out of this miserable World. I wish no body any harm, and if this does not keep me alive, I desire not to live; by all which I know, I would not transgress any Law, or become guilty of any treasonable Crime: for this Statute, nor no other Law in the World can punish any Man for his Si­lence, feeing they can do no more than punish Words or Deeds; 'tis God only that is the Judge of the Secrets of our Hearts.

Attorney. Sir Thomas, tho we have not one Word or Deed of yours to object against you, yet we have your Silence, which is an evident sign of the Malice of your Heart: because no dutiful Subject, being law­fully ask'd this Question, will refuse to answer.

Sir Thomas More. Sir, my Silence is no sign of any Malice in my Heart, which the King him­self must Own by my Conduct upon divers Occasions; neither doth it convince any Man of the Breach of the Law: for It is a Maxim amongst the Civilians and Canonists, Qui tacet consentire videtur, he that holds his peace; seems to give his Consent. And as to what you say, that no good Subject will refuse to give a direct Answer; I did really think it to be the Duty of every good Subject, except he be such a Subject as will be a bad Christian, rather to obey God than Man; to be more cautious to offend his Conscience, than of any thing else in the whole World ; especially if his Conscience be not the Occasion of same Sedition and great Injury to his Prince and Country : for I do here sincerely protest, that I never revealed it to any Man alive. . . .

Regarding the evidence provided by Sir Richard Rich's via perjury, More objected strenously:

In good Faith, Mr. Rich, I am more concerned for your Perjury, than my own Danger; and I must tell you, that neither my self nor any body else to my knowledge, ever took you to be a Man of such Reputation, that I or any other would have any thing to do with you in a Matter of Im­portance. You know that I have been acquainted with your manner of Life and Conversation long time, even from your Youth to the present Juncture, for we lived in the same Parish; and you very well know, I am sorry I am forced to speak it, you always lay under the Odium of a very lying Tongue, of a great Gamester, and of no good Name and Character either there or in the Temple, where you was educated. Can it therefore seem likely to your Lordships, that I should in so weighty an Affair as this, act so unadvisedly, as to trust Mr. Rich, a Man I had al­ways so mean an Opinion of, in reference to his Truth and Honesty, so very much before my So­vereign Lord the King, to whom I am so deeply indebted for his manifold Favours, or any of his noble and grave Counselors, that I should only impart to Mr. Rich the Secrets of my Conscience in respect to the King's Supremacy, the particular Secrets, and only Point about which I have been so long pressed to explain my self? which I never did, nor never would reveal; when the Act was once made, either to the King himself, or any of his Privy-Counselors, as is well known to your Honours, who have been sent upon no other ac­count at several times by his Majesty to me in the Tower. I refer it to your Judgments, my Lords, whether this can seem credible to any of your Lordships.

Another sad day for earthly justice (in addition to St. Oliver Plunkett's execution after an unjust trial).

Remember that Pope Benedict XVI spoke of St. Thomas More during his speech in Westminster Hall on September 17, 2010:

As I speak to you in this historic setting, I think of the countless men and women down the centuries who have played their part in the momentous events that have taken place within these walls and have shaped the lives of many generations of Britons, and others besides. In particular, I recall the figure of Saint Thomas More, the great English scholar and statesman, who is admired by believers and non-believers alike for the integrity with which he followed his conscience, even at the cost of displeasing the sovereign whose “good servant” he was, because he chose to serve God first. The dilemma which faced More in those difficult times, the perennial question of the relationship between what is owed to Caesar and what is owed to God, allows me the opportunity to reflect with you briefly on the proper place of religious belief within the political process. . . .

And yet the fundamental questions at stake in Thomas More’s trial continue to present themselves in ever-changing terms as new social conditions emerge. Each generation, as it seeks to advance the common good, must ask anew: what are the requirements that governments may reasonably impose upon citizens, and how far do they extend? By appeal to what authority can moral dilemmas be resolved? These questions take us directly to the ethical foundations of civil discourse. If the moral principles underpinning the democratic process are themselves determined by nothing more solid than social consensus, then the fragility of the process becomes all too evident - herein lies the real challenge for democracy.