Thomas Hawkes
THOMAS HAWKES
On February 8, 1555, six men were brought before Bishop Bonner: Stephen Knight, William Pigot, Thomas Tompkins, John Lawrence, William Hunter, and Thomas Hawkes. All of them were condemned the following day.
Thomas Hawkes, a tall, good-looking man with excellent qualities, was born in Essex and raised as a gentleman. He was known for his gentle behavior toward others and his dedication to true religion and godliness. Hawkes entered into the service of the Lord of Oxford, staying there as long as Edward VI lived, enjoying a good reputation and being well loved by everyone in the household. But when Edward died, everything suffered: religion decayed, the godly fell into danger, and the houses of good men came on hard times. Rather than change his religious beliefs to fit those of Queen Mary’s court and the Lord of Oxford’s house, Hawkes left the nobleman’s service and returned home, hoping to worship in peace there.
Soon after, Hawkes had a son. Since he refused to have the baby baptized in the Catholic Church, he put the sacrament off for three weeks and was reported to the Earl of Oxford for contempt of the sacraments. The earl was either unable or unwilling to argue matters of religion with Hawkes; he sent him to Bishop Bonner of London.
Hawkes told Bonner that he had nothing against baptism itself, just against its Catholic embellishments.
“Would you agree to have your child christened by the book that was set out by King Edward?” the bishop asked.
“Yes. That’s exactly what I want,” Hawkes replied.
When Bonner could not convince Hawkes that the Catholic service was as effective as the Protestant one, he called in Mr. Harpsfield, the archdeacon of London.
“Christ used ceremonies,” Harpsfield began. “Didn’t He take clay from the ground, spit on it, and make the blind man see?”
“I know that,” Hawkes replied. “But He never used it in baptism. If you want to use it, use it as Christ did.”
“Suppose your child should die unchristened?”
“So?”
“Why, then both you and your child would be damned.”
“Don’t judge further than you may by the scriptures,” Hawkes retorted.
“Don’t you know your child is born in original sin?”
“Yes, I do.”
“How is original sin washed away?”
“By true faith and belief in Christ Jesus,” Hawkes replied.
“How can your baby believe?”
“His deliverance from sin is grounded in the faith of his parents.”
“How can you prove that?”
“Saint Paul, in First Corinthians seven, verse fourteen, says: ‘For the unbelieving husband is sanctified by the wife, and the unbelieving wife is sanctified by the husband: else were your children unclean; but now are they holy.’”
“Recant, recant! Don’t you know that Christ said, ‘Except a man be born of water and of the Spirit he cannot enter into the kingdom of God.’”
“Does Christianity depend on outward ceremonies?” Hawkes asked.
“Partly, yes. What do you think about the Mass?”
Hawkes replied, “I say it’s detestable, abominable, and useful for nothing!”
“Useful for nothing? What about the epistle and Gospel?”
“That’s good, if it’s used as Christ left it to be used.”
“How about the confessional?”
“That’s abominable and detestable. It’s blasphemy to call upon, trust, or pray to anyone but Christ Jesus.”
“We don’t ask you to trust anyone, just call on them and pray to them. You know that you can’t speak with a king or queen without first speaking to someone else.”
“You mean I should call on those I don’t trust? Saint Paul said, ‘How [then] shall they call on him in whom they have not believed?’”
“Don’t you want someone to pray for you when you’re dead?”
“No,” Hawkes replied. “Once you’re dead, no man’s prayers can help you. Unless you can prove otherwise by scripture.”
“Don’t the prayers of the righteous prevail?”
“Only for the living. David said, ‘None of them can by any means redeem his brother, nor give to God a ransom for [them].’”
“What books do you have?”
“The New Testament, Solomon’s books, and the psalter.”
“Will you read other books?”
“Certainly. If you give me the ones I want.”
“What do you want?”
“Latimer’s books, my lord of Canterbury’s books, Bradford’s sermons, and Ridley’s books.”
“Take him away! The books he wants all support his heresies.”
The next day Fecknam came to talk to Hawkes. “Are you the one who won’t have his child christened unless it’s done in English and will have no ceremonies?”
“Whatever scripture commands done, I will do,” Hawkes replied.
They continued for a while, Hawkes standing his ground and quoting scripture to prove each point they debated. The following day Dr. Chedsay and Bishop Bonner talked with Hawkes, asking him what he thought of the Catholic Church.
“It’s a church of vicious cardinals, priests, monks, and friars, which I will never give credit or believe,” he replied.
Bonner explained to Chedsay, “He won’t come to my chapel or hear Mass. His services have to be in English.”
“Christ never spoke English,” Chedsay replied.
“Neither did He speak Latin,” Hawkes retorted. “What good does it do me to hear a language I don’t understand?” Hawkes went on to say that the Catholic Church engaged in the worship of idols, praying to saints, holy bread, and holy wine, none of which are found in or commanded by scripture. On February 9, 1555, he was condemned as a heretic. He remained in prison until June 10.
A little before his death, some of Hawkes’s friends asked him a favor. They were afraid for their own lives and wondered how long faith could stand in the midst of the fire. Hawkes agreed to lift his hand over his head if the pain was tolerable and his mind was still at peace. When he had been in the fire so long that he could no longer speak, his skin had shrunk, his fingers had been burned off, and everyone thought he was dead, Hawkes suddenly raised his burning hands over his head and clapped them together three times! The people there—especially those who understood his gesture—broke into shouts of praise and applause as Thomas Hawkes sank down into the fire and gave up his spirit.