Oh Lord, purify me, make me a chalice in which you dwell, offer your sacrifice in me and spread your love through me. Let me shine like gold, adorn me with the jewels of virtue that I may always be open to you. Fill me. Overflow me. Let me be like that most perfect vessel, the Singular Vessel of Devotion, She to whom I cry for protection against the Evil One. I ask this for your glory, for the vessel is nothing without the sustenance inside, the cup nothing unless it is filled. Oh Lord, purify me.

Give me a word, Abba

Saturday, April 10, 2010

St. Thomas More

LONDON-TOWN JUly 7th 1535--Over the past couple of the years, England has seemed in the throes of a disease. The King has assumed the title of Supreme Head of the Church in England, Queen Catherine of Aragon was put away and a prostitute is now the Queen. Unrest rules where Monarchy was once supreme. Only a strong ruler can get control. However, corruption is rife among the nobility, yes even the King is failing. Once strong, his desire for a male heir has turned instead into a Institution of Royal Prostitution. And probably the most disturbing is the Church's support for all this. Almost all the Bishops (besides John Fisher, Bishop of Rochester) supported the King's split from the Church, at least nominally. Churchmen are almost famous now for their tendency towards worldiness and debauchery. And now we learn that the last holdout against this corruption, THomas More of Chelsea has been beheaded. The world appears darker than ever, and there seems to be no hope. Either the King's Church will succeed and Christendom will be forever split, or else it will be put down, and the Roman Church, with all it's problems, will prevail. Is sanctity possible? Will anyone who is good ever survive? Why must the holy die? These are questions that we in England must ask ourselves. If our hope is in this world, the saints of our time are fools and even more hopeless than anyone else. If our hope is in the next, it would seem that it will never come. It is so hard to hope. May it be that the heavenly banquet is awaiting us, even through the suffering and evil of this world. Only then is Thomas More death meaningful. Only then is the death of the martyrs meaningful. If death is nothing but a door into the next world, it must not be feared. If suffering is not eternal, it must not be feared. It must have an end. And if it does, we can hope. But looking out at the world, it is so hard to hope. God save England!

The problems we face aren't exclusively ours. They've been around for a long time. I pray that Thomas More, a true Saint in the world, will intercede for us as we struggle to fine meaning in this life. God save America.

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