SJST

I know the heart of Saint Thérèse
Through whom I came to love and know
Jeanne d’Arc, herself, who’s always there
Where I and Little Flower go
I’d never make a claim so bold
To know another’s heart, I mean
Except, this time, I know it’s true
I know it’s real, if never seen
So much depends on point of view
And even on one’s heart’s desire
It must have been that way for me
The day Thérèse showed me Jeanne’s fire
I saw it like I’d never seen
A moment so sublime before
Thérèse’s heart was like a wind
That swept me to it, wanting more
In flames I went; I took Jeanne’s hand
Afraid, but knowing, glad, no cares
My other hand was clasped, you see
By Saint Thérèse, who joined us there
You mustn’t fear, nor worry so
This fire’s where God in Spirit says
That I may know, be glad, and sure
I know the heart of Saint Thérèse
I know; because before Thérèse
I’d never held her hand to know
Jeanne d’Arc, herself, who’s always there
Where I and Little Flower go
It might please you to see a video presentation of this same poem.










































An interesting phenomenon in the current debate between atheists and Christians is the atheist’s attempt to usurp the intellectual high ground by declaring that the philosophical position of “I don’t know” (albeit usually completely ignoring the Thomist philosophical proofs for the existence of God) is the truly more intellectually honest position on God than is the dogmatic certainty of the Christian (and, of course, if one ignores the existing philosophical proofs in favor of God, then, certainly, one probably “cannot know”).

I was raised in the small (though delightful to me), somewhat isolated community of Guymon, Oklahoma on the high plains in the far western regions of that great state and was dutifully taught, both directly and by cultural osmosis, the ideals of Protestant religion and Republican politics. (For purposes of this essay, the term “Republican” refers to the governmental, institutional form rather than to the political party of the same name. All politicians in a Republic are “Republican” by nature, no matter their association with or the name of any political party.)
Within a mere couple of weeks, the seed of a magnificent Kingdom was planted in my soul. It began when I heard the Hail Mary for the first time. I had never heard such a prayer before, but I knew that I liked the idea that one could pray to the Mother of God. Something about that seemed quite right, and it warmed my heart. Note that many years earlier, I had pronounced, with not an ounce of theological acumen nor understanding, that Catholics prayed to saints which was like worshipping them, so Catholics were therefore wrong. Thomas Aquinas in the flesh could not have withstood the power of my reasoning. Nevertheless, as soon as I heard this marvelous prayer, I knew that something very good was contained within it. I began praying to the Mother of God.
A couple of classes later, on October 1, 1984, the Feast day of St. Thérèse of Lisieux (though I had no clue who she was or what the day represented), I experienced a profound conversion to the Church. I did not decide to join her that day, but I became unshakably convinced of her authenticity and of her claims. About one second after that moment of enlightenment, I realized that the Eucharist is truly and substantially the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ. It all happened in about two seconds. Without me knowing even who she was, St. Thérèse of Lisieux brought about my conversion through the blessing and heart of Immaculate Mary, and I became (though I did not yet know it) Thérèse’s brother in spiritual blood through the fire of the Holy Spirit who arcs through time and space to work these miracles. No one can shake this conviction from me, unless the grace of God is removed from me.
My new bride and I packed up our belongings to move to New Haven, Connecticut where I had decided to attend the Yale School of Organization and Management in an attempt to recover my sense of self worth and to resurrect my career. In purely earthly terms, it worked. After graduation, I was hired by the elite executive consulting group of Booz Allen and Hamilton out of their New York City office. That would begin the very long run away from my failure in Guymon to an imaginary vision of success, wealth, and power, which in turn would prove to me, and to others back home, that I was not a failure. Despite the early stages of Thérèse’s spiritual guidance in my life, I had not yet abandoned the other two legs of my famous “stool” by which I would “ascend” to greatness in the world. I would be Catholic, worldly, rich, and powerful. That combination proved to be the foul tasting formula by which I would become lukewarm in my faith and by which Our Lord had said that He would vomit us out of His most holy mouth. He did vomit me out of His mouth, as is only just, for I had become an abomination. His complete rejection of my lukewarm fence-riding and of my attempts to keep one foot in His Kingdom and one in the devil’s proved to be a most miraculous and loving chastisement, for, another most profound moment of conversion awaited me.
I also owe my life to one other magnificent saint. I mentioned above a powerful chastisement and moment of conversion. After 16 years of self-generated nonsense, whereby my dear sister Thérèse covered me like a blanket, for I was unwilling to live out my baptismal promises that were clearly re-ignited in me on the Feast of St. Thérèse, the Lord allowed that I should fall flat and nearly die. I was broken spiritually, mentally, emotionally, socially, and almost physically. This punishment was a most just and loving act by Our Savior, for I was truly living a most disgraceful existence, having been absorbed into the “world.” There is no compromise with the world. If you have one foot in the world, you will soon be all in the world (that is, hell on earth).
The astonishing fact is that Our Lady had granted that I be restored to the path of my destiny in the mind of God by the magnificent co-patronesses of France. Our Lady allowed that I would know that she was the channel of the Holy Spirit (her being, of course, the spouse of the Holy Spirit) in my life and that St. Joan and St. Thérèse were my consecrated sisters in Christ, who, by the grace given in the Holy Spirit which derives from the infinite merits of Jesus Christ our Lord, were given to me as those destined to lead me on my journey to the Kingdom. This was the will of Jesus Christ in the divine order. Sts. Joan and Thérèse are truly worthy of my honor, and it would be a most egregious offense to Our Lady and to Our Lord for me not to submit myself accordingly. No one can shake this conviction from me, unless the grace of God is removed from me. That I am unworthy of such a gift is beyond dispute. That this is a free gift through the merits of Jesus Christ is also beyond dispute. That, if I am by grace allowed into heaven I will be the lowest and the last in the Kingdom, is a distinct possibility. By justice, I should be thrown in hell, and Our Lord would be, in fact, most just to do so.
Over the years, the other two legs of my aforementioned stool began to crack as well. Under the influence of St. Joan of Arc, I began to write. It was she who gave me the courage to march forward in such a bold fashion. No one can shake this conviction from me, unless the grace of God is removed from me. This daughter of God has had a most profound influence on me. I can say with certainty that through St. Joan, I became more medieval in my mindset with regard to politics, culture, and religion. Initially I thought that this might be simply due to her historical context. I was to learn otherwise. This mindset transcended time and space. It had not so much to do with “medieval” versus “modern” as it did, the “Kingdom of God” versus the “Kingdom of Satan.” St. Joan was not instructing me on how things were back in her time. She was instructing me on how to view things in my own time.
I began to read the writings of G.K. Chesterton, the famous Catholic convert from the early 20th century. I also began to read the writings of a good friend of his, Hilaire Belloc. Between the two of them, I was hearing for the first time an entirely new paradigm with regard to understanding history, culture, and politics. Mr. Belloc gave me a new look at the history of that “Dark Ages” Church. I came to understand that it was that Catholic Church that had saved the West after the fall of the pagan Roman Empire. That Church was the only pan-European institution that could have held together a dying empire as it did go into that Dark Age (resulting from the decay of the old empire, not from some imagined enslavement by a new one under the Church). More astonishingly, I discovered that it was that same Catholic Church that had then gone on to build Western civilization on the ashes of the old. The university system, the revival of the Greek classics and Greek philosophy, the development of high art, architecture, music, and a chivalric social order where even wars that were fought had rules of decency were the result. No one ever told me that before.
Could there be any doubt, then, as to why I have such great affection for the Kingdom of France? Here, I do not mean for the dreadful Republic, which finds “freedom” in license, but for the Kingdom of France as represented through her Monarchy over the centuries. I have written poems about my relationship in spirit with “Mystical France.” How could I not love the blessed land of my two saintly sisters who watch over me? To be part of a family or community, you tend to love the same things and to feel repugnance for the same things. You become one in heart, mind, and soul. You tend to think alike. I remember writing my first book, “Journey to Christendom,” whereby I commented that I was “French in spirit if not by birth.” I wrote this well before any of these other revelations were brought to light. It was a somewhat prophetic statement.






The complete set for a Dove and Rose Knight

Lord, have mercy on us!
























