Faith Forum Talk

Sorry it's taken so long to get the talk up. I went from Hull without sending a copy of the talk and have only just got hold of it. Just to warn you that it's very long. Read it if you can be bothered. I didn't say everything in this text because there wasn't time to. But this is what I prepared:

When I was in Year Nine at St Mary’s College Father Noel Wynn, who many of you will know, taught me RE. One day he said we were going to be doing a project on modern day saints. We were to choose someone who we thought to be saintly and do an essay on them outlining the reasons why. For about a week I struggled to think of someone. Everybody else was doing the usual suspects – Mother Teresa, Princess Diana, Nelson Mandella etc. One night I asked my dad for any suggestions he might have at which point he pulled out a book from his SVP briefcase called No Greater Love. It is an account of all the martyrs of the Middlesbrough Diocese. “Why don’t you do it on Saint Margaret Clitherow”, he said.

I must confess, I may have heard of her name but not much else at that point. As I read the chapter of the book on her I remember being stunned at the story and especially her bravery. After converting to Catholicism, she harboured priests so they could say Mass for the local Catholics to whom the sacraments were their lifeline. Margaret paid the ultimate price for this – being sentenced to death by peine forte et dure, or in other words, pressed to death. She was charged with harbouring priests and hearing Mass and the like. In an act of true Christianity, she refused to plead, since the only witnesses against her would be her own children and servants and she could not bear to involve them in the guilt of her death.

The next day I asked Father Wynn whether St Margaret, martyred on the feast of the Annunciation in 1586, would come under his broad term as a “modern day saint”. For some reason, he okayed it. The project was on.

This remarkable story of one woman’s bravery spurred me on later in life to look into the other 39 saints she was canonised with in 1970 – the 40 Martyrs of England and Wales.

It’s not as if I’m an expert on what I’m going to speak on tonight. I’m not a Church historian by any stretch of the imagination. Journalists are supposed to blag it, be able to appear to know a bit about everything. I suppose the reason why I was asked to give this talk is the interest I’ve taken in these remarkable people about a year ago. During Lent in 2008, I came up with the idea of writing a reflection on each of the 40 martyrs on each day of Lent for my blog. I failed miserably in my task. To date, I’m up to 20.

When I started this, it was clear each of these young priests, religious and lay people merited much more attention than a couple of hours. I am simply blown away by the story of the martyrs. A variety of people from every age and social class who knew they faced death for their part in keeping the One True Faith alive in England. The tales of their lives are riddled with action, danger, disguise as well as inspiring words, uncompromising faith, baffling bravery and constant piety. Saint Alban Roe, playing cards on the night before his martyrdom and St John Kemble, who enjoyed a smoke on his pipe and his last cup of wine minutes before his execution – just two of the quirky stories among the 40. It takes at least a couple of full evenings to research a saint and then write something.

With names like Polydore Plasden, Swithun Wells, Eustace White, Augustine Webster and Edmund Arrowsmith, you can’t really get more English saints then these. When I went to the World Youth Day in Cologne in 2005, we had quite a few people come up to us and ask us in English where we were from pointing to our St George’s flag. England, people said. They said they got a look as if to say: “Young Catholics from England?” We can respond to this question by telling people about the 40 Martyrs of England and Wales, the ambassadors if you like of Catholicism here.

I simply can’t understand why these saints aren’t venerated and a fuss made about them in our country. I confess that I would struggle to name more than half of them. Why do we not talk about them, ask for their intercession and teach children about them? Is it because they refused to follow King Henry VIII’s Church? Are people scared it might jeopardise ecumenism and dialogue if we start shouting about the people? After all, they are are own – English people who kept the faith alive here. Without them, maybe we wouldn’t be here today at a Catholic talk.

You’ll be pleased to know I won’t be talking about all 40. Tonight I want to focus on just three of these saints and how their example is so important for us young Catholics in a country that may well be on its way towards the unjust and tyrannical place England and Wales during the 16th and 17th century was (something we’ll explore a little later). I’ve tried to pick three of the not so familiar saints and give you a snapshot of their journey towards martyrdom. As I go along hopefully we can pick out ways to help young Catholics today to be, as Pope John Paul II put it, “the night watchmen of the third millennium”. Hopefully, it will be a rollacoster of a ride.
But first I think it’s important to explain the context of this period of history that changed the shape of Christianity in Britain.

Historical context

Generally speaking the persecution of Catholics in England and Wales in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries came in waves, caused by particular incidents or circumstances, with intervals of respite in between. We all know about the reformation and how the Church of England was formed. The protestant reformation had already started in other parts of Europe. Henry VIII couldn’t get an annulment from his marriage to Catherine of Aragon so he could marry Anne Boleyn. He was ex-communicated by Pope Paul III. He declared a split from Rome and that he was now the Supreme head of the Church of England. The monasteries were dissolved and the first wave of persecution began.

Henry VIII was succeeded by his son Edward VI (1547-53) and during his reign Protestantism became established as the religion of England, but there was no active persecution of Catholics. Edward was followed by Mary I (1553-58), daughter of Henry VIII. She was a Catholic and under her Catholicism was restored but only temporarily. Elizabeth I, another daughter of Henry VIII and a Protestant, succeeded Mary in 1558 and Protestantism became the State religion of England once again and remains so until today. She became Supreme head of the Church of England.

During her reign in 1570 Pope St Pius V excommunicated Elizabeth and released her subjects from their allegiance to her. This obviously increased the English government's hostility towards Catholics.

From 1574 onwards, priests from the newly founded seminaries overseas—at Douai (France), Rome and Spain - began to arrive in England. This alarmed the government and severe laws against Catholics, the "penal laws", were enacted. An Act of Parliament of 1581 made reconciliation to the Catholic Church treason. Another Act in 1585 against Jesuits and seminary priests made the very presence of a Catholic priest in England treason. It was also a felony for anyone to shelter or assist them. The punishment for breaking these laws was death. England had become a dangerous place for Catholics.

In 1588 the Spanish Armada happened. An army travelled towards England with the intention to invade the country and overthrow the Protestant Queen. This failed but it meant the anti-Catholic laws were now enforced rigorously. This was the start of the greatest Catholic persecution in English history.

After Elizabeth’s death, James I came to the thrown in 1603 and two years later came the Gunpowder plot. Again, I’m sure you’re all aware of what this was about. A lot of people now say Guy Fawkes and co had the right idea in light of the expenses scandal… But this obviously didn’t help Catholics in the slightest. After the plot was discovered, the penal laws were strengthened and enforced.

I’m going to stop there because all of the three saints I’m exploring tonight refer to this period between about 1577 and 1606. But suffice to say execution of Catholics continued because of fictitious plots in the reigns of Charles II, and to a certain extent, Charles I.

St Alexander Briant
I chose this first saint to tell you about because he was just a 25-year-old priest when martyred. That’s one year older than I am. He is, as far as I can tell, the youngest of the 40 martyrs. What better inspiration for young people – a man prepared to give his life for the Church at such a young age.

The severity of his torture, treatment in prison and execution was extraordinary. He was deprived of food and drink for six days, racked at least twice to the point that he couldn’t move any part of his body and during his martyrdom, the executioner adjusted the noose to make his death even more painful. But like so many of the martyrs he was remarkably resilient. After his body was twisted and torn by the so-called “master of the rack”, Briant taunted his persecutors saying (like an elder brother when his younger brother is trying to hurt him in a pretend fight): “Is that all you can do? “Is this all that you can do? You’ll have to do much better if you want to get anything out of me. If the rack is no more than this, let me have a hundred more for this cause.” This prompted a Protestant minister who was trying to get him to say: “It’s a miracle.”

Alexander was born in Somerset in 1556. Little is known of his early life until he studied at Hertford Hall at Oxford. He was part of the highly intellectually talented trio with Edmund Campion and Ralph Sherwin – who would be hanged drawn and quaertered together on the same day – December 1, 1581. He became a pupil of Robert Persons, who with Saint Edmund Campion later joined the Society of Jesus. Persons, like Briant, was from Somerset and both became Roman Catholics while still at University.

In 1576, he travelled to the English College at Douai and continued his studies there and at Rheims. He was ordained to the priesthood in Cambrai on March 29 1578 and went over on the English mission on August 3 1579. For a time he ministered in his own part of the country but later moved to London and lived in the house of Fr. Persons near Saint Bride's Church in the Strand.

During these years Fr. Persons was probably the most "wanted" priest by the Government. His energy and enthusiasm had set him at the heart the English Mission. The authorities were out to get him. And in March 1581 they did. The Government's men raided the house and Fr. Briant was caught but Persons and others managed to flee. He was thrown into The Counter Prison and this was a jail that usually housed people unable to pay debts and those arrested for being drunk a disorderly in public. But, of course, the charges Briant was imprisoned for were much more serious.He was jailed in strict isolation and was starved of food and water for days. In the end, he managed to get hold of a penny’s worth of stale cheese, some bread and a pint of strong beer. Because many of the inmates were drunks, beer was probably the easiest item to get. But this sustenance caused his thirst to become even more desperate and in the end he resorted to catching the drips of rainwater that leaked into the cell in his hat.

If the agony of starvation and gasping for water wasn’t enough, Fr Briant was in for much more brutal treatment that would leave him paralysed. Because of his links to Fr Persons, the authorities considered Fr Alex as a vital man to get information from as to the priest’s whereabouts and activities. The day after Ascension, he was moved to the Tower of London. Predicting he may well starve to death there, he hid some of the cheese he had picked up from the Counter but it was taken from him during a search. On March 27 he was brought before Lieutenant Dr Hammond and a pursuivant called Norton for interrogation. Fr Alex refused to say anything about where he had said Mass or anything to do with Fr Person’s whereabouts. They began to torture him, ordering needles to be driven under his nails. But the priest took the pain and prayed for the forgiveness of his tormenters. On April 6 he was consigned to "The Pit", a deep dungeon, where he was in complete darkness for eight days.

Fr Briant was then stretched on the rack on two successive days. It was called the scavenger's daughter - an A-frame shaped metal rack. The head was strapped to the top point of the A, the hands in the middle and the legs at the lower spread ends. This meant the head swung down, forcing the knees up in a sitting position so the body compressed to force blood from the nose and ears. They also used the thumbscrew on Briant. The victim's thumbs, fingers or toes were placed in the vice and slowly crushed.The rackmaster boasted he would make Fr. Briant a foot longer than God had made him, unless he would give the required information about Fr. Persons. It was during this ordeal that Fr. Briant started to laugh and taunt the torturers.Fr Alex went back to his cell for the night. He had a temperature, unimaginable pain and his wounds were scabbing over. He was barely conscious. But they tortured him again the next day. Fr Alex was conscience he could be racked to death this time and prepared himself for the end. During the torture, Briant did faint but they sprinkled water on his face so he endured all the pain. The humble priest united all his sufferings with Christ on the cross.

He was thrown back in prison and was unable to move anything. He laid without bedding for 15 days in the cell, wearing itchy, bloodstained clothes. The fact he survived these conditions says a lot about his prayer life, trust in God and the strength he got from the Holy Spirit. Requesting admission to the Jesuits, he wrote a letter in which he revealed some of his thoughts.Prayers after his first round of torture replenished him and he was filled with “a kind of supernatural sweetness of spirit”. When he found out that he was to endure more racking, Briant notes he trusted that, with the help of God, “I should be able to bear and suffer it patiently”. At his trial on November 16 1581, Alex made a wooden cross that he publicly carried to Westminster Hall, the highest court at that time in the land. The cross was aggressively taken from the priest prompting him to say: “You can take it out of my hands, but not out of my heart.” There is little information about his trial, only that he was found guilty of treason and instantly shackled. The irons were not removed until his hanging, drawing and quartering.December 1 1581 was one of the most glorious days of English Catholic history. Briant was martyred with Edmund Campion and Ralph Sherwin. Three of the most scholarly and intelligent priests in English Catholic history gave their lives for Christ, enduring the most intense suffering. He was dragged through the muddy London streets to Tyburn.

Having to watch his two friends being brutally killed, with the realisation that his body would be ripped to shreds in the same way, must have been terrifying. In fact, he had a more painful death than the others. Alex was cut down while still alive so that he could be disembowelled and his body cut into quarters. His heart, bowels and entrails were burnt in front of a crowd that apparently really enjoyed the spectacle.As young Catholics today, we are regularly mocked by so-called friends because of our “strange rituals” and “outdated rules”. We can sometimes lose friends over speaking the truth and we can feel hurt by this. But the sufferings of Alexander Briant puts all those things into perspective. To get through the torture mentally means that he had complete trust in the Holy Spirit. He is a fantastic saint to pray to help us get through whatever persecution comes our way.

Cuthbert Mayne

The second saint I want to touch on is a top man who could inspire any young person seriously thinking about becoming a Catholic to make that final step. St Cuthbert Mayne was brought up a Protestant by his uncle, a minister in the “new” religion. Cuthbert himself became an Anglican clergymen and served as St John’s College chaplain at Oxford University for many years. In the end, Cuthbert was one of the first to begin a long tradition of graduates or students drawn to the Catholic priesthood from Oxford. His journey to the Catholic faith was a long one. He was only 29 when executed.

He was born at Youlston in Devon in 1544 and made a Church of England deacon at the tender age of 19. It seems the young man was pushed into this by his uncle. He wasn’t really in tune with the Reformation and didn’t realise there were different religions.When studying for his Bachelor of Arts, Mayne came in contact with Edmund Campion, Gregory Martin and Henry Shaw among others. The college was becoming a real stronghold of Catholicity and Cuthbert was pitied by Papist students who chipped away at his conscience and advising him of his sin. Campion and Martin realised Cuthbert’s “Romeward tendencies” and continued to write to him urging him to join them at Douai.One of Campion’s letters got into the hands of the Bishop of London. He immediately sent guards straight to Oxford to arrest Mayne and others. But Cuthbert had gone home to Devon. He heard from friend Thomas Ford the authorities were out to get him. So he jumped on a ship for Europe and reached Douai College in 1573.

The College had only been opened for five years. It was not too far from England and was a constituent college of the newly formed University of Douai. The institution was already filled with students, most of them from Oxford. Mayne fitted in nicely. He took a Theology degree in early 1576 and in April returned to Cornwall as a newly ordained priest.He was sent back to England with John Paine and Henry Shaw, another two of the martyrs. They had to be careful not to draw attention to themselves. On arrival they dispersed and Cuthbert went to live with a bloke called Francis Tregian in a parish near Truro, Cornwall. Francis was the maternal uncle of Thomas Sherwood who was martyred on February 7 1578. Mr Tregian is also thought to have left Queen Elizabeth’s Court. Mayne posed as Tregian’s steward while quietly carrying out his priestly duties. But rumours of his real character spread. In June 1577 Francis’ house was searched. Tregian initially resisted the raid, telling the guards they should have a commission from the Queen to search his home. But the Sheriff held a dagger to Francis’ chest and he let them in – as you would.

The officers “bounced and beat” Mayne’s door. In yet another remarkable (and somewhat amusing) act by of one of the 40 Martyrs, Cuthbert heard the noise and popped up from where he was in the garden to open the door for them!Seizing Cuthbert, the Sheriff found an Agnus Dei case around his neck. These are small disks made from wax from the Easter candle and pressed with an image of the paschal Lamb and blessed by the Pope. They had been outlawed by parliament in 1571. They also found a papal bull also against the law to carry. In fact it was now considered treason. Shouting abuse at him, the Sheriff arrested Cuthbert and the martyrdom of another faithful and brave priest was to be secured.

He was taken to the Bishop of Exeter and then held at various people's houses before ending up in Launceston jail, an underground castle prison. Here, Mayne was cruelly imprisoned. He was chained to his bedposts and his legs were shackled. No-one had permission to talk to him.The authorities sought a death sentence but had difficulty in framing a treason charge against him. In the end at the opening of the trial there were five counts against him. These included celebrating Mass, bringing the Agnus Dei into England, teaching the authority of the pope and had a papal bull. Mayne defended himself very well. He denied saying anything definite on the Pope to three illiterate witnesses.

On the Agnus Dei charge, the fact he was found with it on arrest didn’t confirm he had brought it to the country or deliver it to Tregian. Lastly, the presence of a Missal, a chalice, and vestments in his room did not prove he had said Mass.But as was usual in these cases despite the lack of evidence, Judge Marwood directed the jury to return a guilty verdict. The authorities were very concerned about reports that more than 30 graduates from Douai had been seen entering the country by spies. The judge said: "Where plain proofs were wanting, strong presumptions ought to take place." Imagine how a modern day judge would react to one of their colleagues saying that in open court these days? The Privy Council said Mayne should be executed as a warning to other Catholics. They instructed the killing to be done in the market place in full view as "a terror to the papists". In this sense, Cuthbert was a scapegoat.Mayne was told of his execution three days in advance. He devoted every remaining night of his life to prayer and contemplation.

On November 27, his cell was filled with a bright light between midnight and 1am, an indication that this was a saintly man. This prompted other prisoners to call out - the light was so bright and they knew Cuthbert didn't even have a candle.Like quite a few of the priestly martyrs, Cuthbert was challenged in debate on the day of his execution (November 29) by judges and ministers. Reports say Cuthbert outwitted them on every point. Mayne was then offered life if he would publicly acknowledgment of the supremacy of the queen as head of the church. He declined saying: "The queen neither ever was, nor is, nor ever shall be, the head of the Church of England." He went on to say England would soon be converted back to Catholicism by the 'secret instructors' from Douai. Well and truly sealing his fate, Cuthbert was not afraid to make a dangerous political comment. He said if any Catholic prince was to invade to return the country back to Catholicism, all Catholics should help that man. Mayne was drawn a quarter of a mile to the market place in Launceston. On arrival, he was refused the right to address the crowd and instead knelt to say his prayers. He was then pushed off the ladder and prayed: "In manus tuas." Some reports say the hangman let him die before the disembowelment and quartering.

One source says he was cut down alive, but in falling struck his head against the butcher's scaffold. The executioner seems to have had much pleasure in ripping his body to pieces, holding up his heart to the crowd. His quarters were distributed to four different places and his head was put on a pole near a busy street. The hangman went mad a month after the martyrdom and died soon afterwards.He was the first Douai seminary priest to be martyred. He was born and brought up a Protestant and genuinely didn’t understand the split in Christianity until he got to university. It was his friends at university who saw his potential, gently chipping away and encouraging him to join them at Douai. You may know some of you friends who are interested in the Catholic faith. St Edmund Campion and others give us the courage to gently evangelise to people we know like St Cuthbert and to pray for people to convert. The story of his conversion is an inspiration to all those young Catholics in the spiritually hostile environment of university in modern day Britain who want to express their faith gently but fully to their peers. For young people going through their conversion and maybe struggling with certain aspects the faith, St Cuthbert can offer help in abundance. The saint showed remarkable resilience, even if he was a tad clumsy strolling into the hands of his capturers. He was clearly a cleaver academic and an effective debater. In this way, he shows us that faith and reason go hand in hand.

Saint Nicholas Owen

The final saint is Nicholas Owen. No, it’s not the famous news presenter (Nicholas David Arundel Owen) I’m talking about! St Nicholas arguably played the most important role out of anyone in keeping Catholicism going in Britain during this period of history – and he wasn’t even a priest. Owen is the guy who skilfully built dozens of priest holes in stately homes where recusants lived up and down England. He was a dwarf, nicknamed “Little John”. He was little over five feet, which is possibly why he was so good at what he did. He had a painful hernia - but this didn’t deter him from his vital duties. Nicholas was deceptively strong both physically and mentally. It was because of him that secret Masses could take place. It was because of his genius that priests could hide as soon as the threat of the security services came. Quite simply, if it wasn’t for his faithfulness and willingness to use his exceptional talents given from God, the underground church would probably not have functioned.

He was an intriguing character. Unlike many of the martyrs, he appears to have been a cradle Catholic, born into a staunchly recusant family in Oxford around about 1550. Two of his brothers became Jesuit priests and the other ran a Catholic printing press which he apparently managed to keep going while in prison for recusancy.

Like many young people fresh out of school today, he decided not to go down the academic path but fancied a more “hands on” profession. His dad enrolled him on an eight year carpentry apprenticeship under the eye of Oxford joiner William Conway. If you think about it, not even Medicine degrees last eight years these days (usually about six) let alone apprenticeships. Compared with priest training in those days, which seems to be less than two or three years for some students, eight years was a hell of a long time to train up. He must have been good. Nicholas learned the art of carving and turning, building wide beamed wooden staircases that curled around landings, linenfold panelling that encased a room. The list goes on. He followed the profession of Jesus. During the course, he became one of the first Jesuit lay brothers.

He now had the tools and skills to set to work. There were many country mansions occupied by middle and upper class Catholics and determined recusants. Fr Henry Garnet, Superior of the English Jesuits, employed him to construct hiding places and escape routes in houses. Nicholas worked quietly and effectively. By day he worked at the mansions on regular wood- and stone-working jobs so no one would question his presence. By night he worked alone, digging tunnels, creating hidden passages and rooms in the house.

Each hiding place had to be different. The same setup would easily lead the priest catchers to the hiding holes. The persuviants would tap on the walls listening for a hollow sound that would give away the hole. At a mansion near Warwick, for instance, secret trapdoors connected to the house’s sewer system. During a search here, four priests hid in the mucky, contaminated sewer waters for four hours. He added feeding tubes to some so priests could stay in secret compartments for days. Nicholas also built fake holes that could be easily discovered and acted as a decoy.

I’ve had the pleasure of visiting one of the magnificent homes where Owen did his wonders. I went to Oxburgh Hall, in Norfolk, the home of the Bedingfeld family. Fr John Gerard, another of the Jesuit leaders during this late period, was one of the priests that stayed and hid there after landing on the Norfolk coast in 1588 to minister to recusants. I would recommend anyone to go there. It’s a fascinating place (and they do good hot scones as well at a price). The house has one priest hole that has been found, with others almost certainly in place. In fact historians reckon priest holes built by Nicholas throughout the UK have still not been found.

Owen was well aware of the danger he faced and the crimes he was committing under law. When he embarked on his mission, a clause was introduced into English law stating that any Catholic layman who maintained or helped a priest would be a felon. The penalty for this was death.

He was arrested twice and once was tortured but revealed no information about the whereabouts of priests or the location of the secret compartments. The first time he loudly proclaimed the innocence of St Edmund Campion with whom he was close friends and followed around the country for a time. After being released, he served both Fr Gerard and Fr Henry Garnet. He was captured along with Gerard in 1594 and they were viciously tortured on the “Topcliffe Rack”. Under English law, Owen was exempt from torture, as he had been maimed a few years previously when a horse fell on him. But they went ahead with it anyway. The Rack is a wooden frame. The legs are fastened at one end and the hands at the other. During the interrogation process, the ratchet is tightened to increase tension on the chains resulting in excruciating pain. But Owen gave nothing away. Knowing how vital the little man was to the safety of priests, a wealthy Catholic family bailed him out of prison.

But Nicholas didn’t return to carptentry. Fr Gerard was still in prison and Nocholas was determined to get him out. In a highly dangerous move, he helped the priest’s escape. The first attempt failed on October 3 1597. But the next night, Owen’s team made another attempt. A rope of double strength was drawn across the moat of the Tower and despite the fact Gerard could hardly feel his hands, he managed to drag himself along the rope from the Cradle Tower to a wall at the far side of the moat. He was dragged onto a waiting boat and the men rowed frantically down stream. Gerard was taken to Anne Line’s house, another martyr, where Nicholas Owen was waiting with horses. He rode Gerard to the west to safety. It is a classic prison escape story.

Following the Gunpowder plot, Nicholas was found at Hindlip Hall in Worcestershire. He and a friend hid in one of the 11 holes they’d built at the hall for more than a week while 100 men tore the building apart. There were two priests hid in another part of the house and Owen made sure most of the food went to them. This shows his mentality and mission objective throughout his life – to protect and help priests save souls. He was merely a servant of priests. Owen and his friend only had one apple between them and in desperation to find food they tried to escape but were caught.

Once the authorities knew who Nicholas was they were overjoyed because they knew how significant a role he played.

He spent time in solitary prayer before the six-hour-a-day racking began. They wrapped an iron band around his hernia to make it even more painful. He didn’t reveal anything and say a word during this apart from asking Jesus and Mary to help him through this. In the end, the torturing went too far. The metal band failed in its job. His hernia ruptured and his stomach was ripped apart.

Owen’s bravery was astounding. The job he did was enormous. He was one of God’s top agents during penal times. He had an amazing skill but was quite prepared to do anything to help priests preach, convert, administer the sacraments, especially the Mass. Owen had a clear focus to his work – and it was centred on Jesus Christ. Before starting to build holes on each day he would go to Mass and spend time in prayer.

His love for priests must have been great, a love which cost him his life. He speaks to young people today about the way in which they can help and support their priests. He is a true example of how laymen can assist priests in parishes in carrying out less-secret "handyman" jobs, without fear of being martyred, but nevertheless working for the Glory of God.

I hope that by simply telling you about just three of these saints they speak to you directly. But why do I think they are so relevant for us today? The reason, I think, is that in a different way we are increasingly experiencing a world that is hostile to Catholicism and wants to see us finished, at least as a public presence. And, as well, the Church itself faces testing times.

We do not face prison (yet) or death for preaching the Catholic faith. We are free to practice our faith. But other attacks on the Church are pretty relentless. They are twofold – attacks on her sacred teaching and on her right to be heard publicly.

We live in a country, for instance, where abortion is rampant. Where registered charities (Marie Stopes) kill unborn children daily (as does our National Health Service) and may soon by able to advertise what they do on televison. They then leave it to the compassionate pro-life movement to pick up the pieces when vulnerable women break down after an abortion experience.

We live in a country where the same bodies exploit and experiment on young people by giving out abortifacient morning after pills when the side effects of the emergency contraceptive on the adolescent has never been explored. With the full backing of the Government, these bodies swarm around our schools (including Catholic ones), giving out contraceptives to teenagers, basically encouraging them that it’s fine to have sex under age, even though it’s illegal.

We have now legalised the creation of animal/hybrid embryos and laboratories can do whatever they want with tiny human lives for experimentation up to 14 days. We live in a country that has legalised euthanasia by omission, where vulnerable people can be starved and dehydrated to death. There are also moves to legalise full-blown euthanasia and assisted suicide as more people go abroad to end their lives.

We now have civil partnerships between two people of the same sex. Several politicians, most noticeably David Cameron, think a marriage can be between a man and a man, a woman and a woman as well as a man and a woman.

Catholic adoption services have been forced to either close or de-Catholicise because the law now dictates that homosexual couples have has much right of hetrosexual couples to adopt. But the sexual orientation regulations – which it’s claimed outlaws discrimination of gays - goes much further. Catholic schools will probably have to discuss homosexuality and the right to teach the belief that homosexual acts are intrinsically disordered is in jeopardy.

The Pope and other Church leaders are under constant attack for what they say and do on issues like tackling condoms and tackling Aids in Africa. An increasingly secular society championed by politicians like Evan Harris want the Catholic Church to be completely out of the public sphere, to be a private religion.

In the Church internally, congregations are dwindling and churches closing. There is a lack of vocations to the priesthood. A lack of sound, widespread catechesis for the last 40 years and the onslaught of relativism has led young people into a warped sense of being their own gods.

To counter this culture, there is a desperate need for young Catholics to be counter cultural. The truth is that it’s time for us to stand up and be counted to be witnesses to Christ in a world that needs him so much. With this will come suffering. We will probably be mocked for defending what many people falsely see as medieval teachings. But at least we will be spared the physical torture endured by those holy martyrs. The key to get us through these difficult times is the main bit of inspiration we get from the martyrs – and that is the Mass.

The Mass is the closest we get to heaven while we live in this universe. It is the ultimate wedding feast with Christ as the bridegroom and the Church as his bride. It is the physical presence of Christ on earth, it’s where we meet Christ and come to know Him more fully. In fact, God created the world for the Mass – where Christ is truly present in the mystical form of bread and wine. At Mass we actually stand at the foot of the Cross on Calvary, in the stable in Bethlehem and in the upper room with the disciples and outside the tomb when Jesus rises from the dead all at the same time. As St Paul says, “The Eucharist makes the Church.” The Catechism tells us the Eucharist is the sum and summary of our faith: "Our way of thinking is attuned to the Eucharist, and the Eucharist in turn confirms our way of thinking." It is the thing that unites each one of us to Christ. It is at Mass where the meaning of the universe is unlocked.

The Mass is the institution the martyrs drew strength from and were devoted to protecting from extinction in England. As faithful Catholics, they knew the Mass was their lifeline. As important as sleeping, eating and breathing is to our physical bodies, so the Mass is the one thing that will feed and enrich our soul and hopefully lead us to salvation. Consider how much the martyrs did to make sure Mass was celebrated. Priests moved from house to house to say Mass in secret. Laypeople harboured them, built secret compartments in stately homes as mini-chapels and put washing out on the line to tell local Catholics Mass was to be at a particular time and place.

Whether celebrated in a tiny section of an attack at Burton Constable Hall or in St Peter’s Basilica in Vatican City, the Mass is the same thing. The martyrs got the most remarkable strength from the Eucharist (and the Holy Spirit) that helped them in their mission and helped them get through the most outrageous torture. We too can learn from them and gain our strength from the Eucharist in our mission to know, love and serve God. We also must be eternally grateful for our glorious martyrs and pray to them earnestly in our quest to become more deeply in love with Christ.