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The Crown and the Cross: The Sanctity of St. Edward the Confessor

  • Writer: Fr. Scott Haynes
    Fr. Scott Haynes
  • Oct 7
  • 4 min read

Fr. Scott Haynes


For the Feast of St. Edward

October 13


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“Blessed is that servant, whom when his Lord shall come, He shall find so doing.” (Matthew 24:46)


The King Who Ruled with the Heart of a Monk


In an age when kings ruled by the sword, Edward the Confessor ruled by the Cross. Born around the year 1003, the son of King Æthelred and Queen Emma of Normandy, Edward was a child of exile and uncertainty. When the Danes invaded England, he fled to Normandy, where he spent nearly thirty years far from his homeland. Yet, in that hidden life of waiting, God was forming the soul of a saint.


While other princes sought thrones, Edward sought holiness. “The meek shall inherit the earth; and shall delight in abundance of peace” (Psalm 36:11). Edward embodied this meekness, not as weakness, but as strength under obedience to God. His heart was set on Christ, and his longing for England was not born of ambition but of a shepherd’s love for his people.


When he was finally called to the throne in 1042, he did not forget the lessons of exile. Like King David, he saw that kingship is not possession but stewardship. St. Augustine reminds us, “The fear of the Lord is the foundation of every good rule, for no man can rule others well who does not first subject himself to God.” Edward’s reign would prove this true.


A Kingdom of Justice and Prayer


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Chroniclers tell us that King Edward’s court was more like a monastery than a palace. He rose early to pray, heard daily Mass, and distributed alms with his own hands. The poor knew his face; beggars called him father. He was gentle yet firm, merciful yet just. His reign was marked by peace—the first England had known in generations. “He governed his realm,” wrote William of Malmesbury, “more through goodness than through power.”


Edward was not only devout but discerning. He understood that earthly power must be purified by divine grace. St. Gregory the Great wrote, “If we wish to reign with Him, we must first learn to serve.” And serve he did. He fostered reconciliation among his nobles, restored churches destroyed by war, and upheld the rights of the Church against corruption and greed.


Most famously, he rebuilt Westminster Abbey—a house of prayer to stand as a testimony that kings are accountable before God. Its stones, bathed in the light of stained glass and the fragrance of incense, bore witness to a king whose heart was already half in Heaven. Westminster was consecrated on December 28, 1065, just days before Edward’s death. Fittingly, the king who built God’s house on earth would soon be welcomed into God’s eternal court.


The Confessor’s Reward


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Edward died on January 5, 1066, leaving behind no heir but a legacy of faith. His last words, as recorded in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, were a vision: angels calling him to Paradise. Within forty years, miracles were reported at his tomb. The sick came and were healed; the sorrowful came and found peace. Pope Alexander III canonized him in 1161, giving England one of her few royal saints.


His body, found incorrupt when exhumed in 1102, was enshrined in Westminster Abbey, the very church he had built. Pilgrims from across Christendom came to pray before his relics. Even today, behind the high altar of Westminster, the shrine of St. Edward remains—the heart of England’s sanctity before her later wounds.


A Faithful King in an Unfaithful Line


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In St. Edward’s day, the English crown and the Catholic faith were bound together as body and soul. The monarch was the defender of Christ’s Church, not its adversary. Yet centuries later, a tragic reversal came. Henry VIII, wearing the same crown once sanctified by Edward, broke from Rome, declaring himself head of the Church in England. What Edward had consecrated to God, Henry took for himself. The monasteries Edward had supported were dissolved; the altars he had knelt before were torn down.


Henry VIII’s kingship echoed the pride of Pilate, who washed his hands instead of his heart. As St. John Chrysostom teaches, power itself is not evil, but its misuse is: “He who rules must first be subject to the laws of God; for to rule without virtue is tyranny, not kingship.” (Homily 23 on Acts)


The contrast is stark. Edward’s kingship reflected the humility of Christ washing the feet of His disciples; Henry’s reflected the pride of man exalting himself above the law of God. In every age, rulers are tested by the same choice: to serve or to dominate, to confess Christ or to betray Him.


The Confessor’s Legacy for Our Time


In our own age, where faith is again exiled and conscience often silenced, St. Edward’s life speaks with quiet authority. He reminds us that holiness in leadership is possible, that purity of heart can guide even the affairs of state. St. Leo the Great wrote, “To confess Christ is not merely to speak His name, but to live according to His law.” Edward did both.


His peace was not the peace of compromise, but of trust. He confessed Christ before men by ruling justly, praying fervently, forgiving enemies, and restoring what sin had broken. In this he fulfilled the Beatitude: “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God” (Matthew 5:9).


Reflection


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St. Edward’s shrine still stands at the heart of Westminster Abbey—a silent witness amid the noise of political change. Around it are buried kings, queens, and statesmen, yet none shines with greater glory than the Confessor, the king who loved God above power.


If England is to be healed, it must once again remember its saintly king—the one who ruled not by his own will, but by the will of Christ. For in every age, the Church’s truest servants are those who confess not with words only, but with deeds of mercy, fidelity, and faith.


Prayer


O holy Edward, King and Confessor,

who ruled with the mind of a monk and the heart of a saint,

intercede for all who govern, that they may serve rather than be served,

and seek not power but the peace of Christ.


Pray for England, once your crown and now your cross,

that she may return to the faith you loved and defended.

May your example teach us that true kingship lies in obedience,

and that the glory of this world fades,

but the kingdom of Christ endures forever. Amen.

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