About the Book
"Taking Action" by Reinhard Bonnke is a motivational book that emphasizes the importance of taking bold and proactive steps towards achieving one's goals and dreams. Bonnke shares personal anecdotes and practical advice on how to overcome fear, doubt, and procrastination in order to pursue a fulfilling and purposeful life. The book serves as a call to action for readers to ignite their passions, unleash their potential, and make a positive impact on the world.
Jane Grey
Lady Jane Grey is one of the most romanticized monarchs of Tudor England. Her nine-day reign was an unsuccessful attempt to maintain Protestant rule. This challenge cost her the throne and her head.
Who Was Lady Jane Grey?
Lady Jane Grey's life began with promise and high expectations but ended tragically, due in part to the ambitions of her father and the religious strife of the times. The great-granddaughter of Henry VII, Grey was named the successor to Edward VI during a tumultuous competition for the throne. She was deposed as Queen of England by Mary Tudor on July 19, 1553 — nine days after accepting the crown. Grey was beheaded in London on February 12, 1554.
Early Life
Jane Grey was born in 1537, in Leicester, England, the oldest daughter of Henry Grey and Lady Frances Brandon and the great-granddaughter of Henry VII. Her parents saw to it that she received an excellent education, intended to make her a good match for the son of a well-positioned family. At the age of 10, Jane went to live with the conspiratorial Thomas Seymour, Edward VI’s uncle, who had only recently married Catherine Parr, the widow of Henry VIII. Jane was raised as a devout Protestant and proved to be an intelligent and engaged young woman, remaining close to Thomas Seymour and Catherine Parr until Parr’s death in childbirth in 1548. Seymour was executed for treason in 1549.
Arranged Marriage
Henry Grey, now Duke of Suffolk, introduced his beautiful and intelligent daughter Jane to the royal court in 1551. In order to consolidate his family’s power, Grey arranged for the marriage of two of his daughters to scions of two other prominent families. In a triple wedding in 1553, Jane married Lord Guildford Dudley, the son of the Duke of Northumberland, alongside the groom’s sister Katherine, who married Henry Hastings, heir to the Earl of Huntingdon. Jane Grey’s sister Catherine married the heir of the Earl of Pembroke in the same ceremony.
Background on England's State of Affairs
After Henry VIII’s death in 1547, his only male heir, Edward, assumed the throne. Sickly with tuberculosis and only 10 years old at the time of his coronation, Edward VI was easily manipulated by calculating individuals such as the fiercely Protestant John Dudley, Duke of Northumberland, who acted as regent to the young king. By January 1553, it was clear Edward was dying, and Dudley was desperate to prevent the throne from passing to Edward’s half-sister, Mary Tudor, a devout Catholic. As the daughter of Henry VIII and Catherine of Aragon, Mary became a pawn in Henry’s quest for a male heir. Henry had divorced Catherine, declaring his marriage null because she was the former wife of his deceased brother. This also deemed Mary illegitimate in the eyes of the court.
Queen for Nine Days
In early 1553, John Dudley brought forth the same charge against Mary and convinced Edward to continue to support the Protestant Reformation by declaring Jane his successor. Edward VI died on July 6, 1553, and the 15-year-old Lady Jane Grey, somewhat reluctantly but dutifully, agreed to become Queen of England and was crowned four days later. However, she faced strong opposition from Mary Tudor and Parliament, both citing the 1544 Law of Succession, which clearly stated Mary should be queen. Public support for Jane’s rule evaporated when it was learned that the unpopular Dudley was behind the scheme.
With opposition mounting against Jane Grey, many of her supporters quickly abandoned her, including her father, who futilely attempted to save himself by supporting Mary as queen. The council didn't buy it and declared him a traitor. On July 19, 1553, Jane’s nine-day reign ended, and she was imprisoned in the Tower of London. John Dudley was condemned for high treason and executed on August 22. On November 13, Jane and her husband, Guildford Dudley, were likewise found guilty of treason and sentenced to death, but because of their youth and relative innocence, Queen Mary did not carry out the sentences.
Execution
Alas, Jane’s father, Henry Grey, sealed her fate and that of her husband when he joined Sir Thomas Wyatt’s insurrection against Mary after she announced, in September 1553, that she intended to marry Philip II of Spain. It didn’t help her cause when Jane condemned Mary’s reintroduction of the Catholic Mass to the Church. When Mary’s forces suppressed the revolt, she decided it best to eliminate all political opponents. On the morning of February 12, 1554, Jane watched from her cell window as her husband was sent to the executioner’s block. Two hours later she would meet the same fate. As she stood before the chopping block, she is believed to have stated that she recognized her act had violated the queen’s law, but that she was innocent before God.
Legacy
Lady Jane Grey has been viewed as a Protestant martyr for centuries, “the traitor-heroine” of the Reformation. Over the centuries, her tale has grown to legendary proportions in popular culture, through romantic biographies, novels, plays, paintings and films. Yet, her reign was so short, she had no impact on the arts, science or culture. No laws or shifts in policy were passed during her brief nine-day rule. Perhaps her youth and willingness to be of service to the ambitions of others for what she believed was the greater good is her most impressive legacy.
The Cross and the St. Louis Cardinals
What does Jonathan Edwards have to do with baseball? It relates to how he saw the world. The technical term is typology — the mechanism of his God-entranced vision of all things. He explains, God does purposely make and order one thing to be in agreeableness and harmony with another. And if so, why should not we suppose that he makes the inferior in imitation of the superior, the material of the spiritual, on purpose to have a resemblance and shadow of them? We see that even in the material world God makes one part of it strangely to agree with another; and why it is not reasonable to suppose he makes the whole as a shadow of the spiritual world? . . . ("Images of Diving Things," A Jonathan Edwards Reader, [New Haven: Yale University Press, 1995], 16). Edwards saw it in the experience of walking down a hill, in the diet of ravens, and in the life of silkworms. And sports fans just saw it in the 2011 World Series. The World Series, Really? What made this Series so great wasn’t the mere fact that I love the St. Louis Cardinals and they won. It was the whole manner of how it happened. It's the fact that the Cardinals were trailing 10.5 games on August 25. They had no chance of making the playoffs, it seemed. It was the time to start looking at next year—the time when the "maybe-next-season" wishes are reluctantly announced. But then they started winning. Their late-season success allowed them to slip into the playoffs on the final game of the season. That was amazing enough. Then they beat the league-best Phillies. Then the potent Brewers. And then there they were—like out of no where—in the World Series. Learning from Edwards, let’s keep tracking the "agreeableness and harmony" that goes much deeper than America’s pastime. The Cardinals were the underdog, if there ever were one. They shouldn't even be in the playoffs, not to mention in the World Series competing against the repeat American League champion Texas Rangers. Every commentator wrote them off — "it was nice they made it this far, but they just aren’t championship caliber." Weakness Exposed When Texas won two in a row to take a 3-2 series lead, we expected that the Cards would finally fold. And during Game 6, when they came down to one out and one strike away from losing — twice! — hopes were dashed for Cardinal Nation. The consoling began, remembering the season really should have ended in September, that they really didn't have a World Series-quality team, that it's time again to start the "maybe next season" concessions. The team’s weakness at last was seen as weakness, and the dream of winning the World Series was confronted with the reality that things really don't happen this way. It was like a Friday afternoon wake-up call from Golgotha. But wait a minute. Isn’t this the way all the best stories go? Cue Edwards. Jesus rode into Jerusalem on the foal of a donkey, but it could have been a stallion leading an unbeatable legion of Jewish revolutionaries. He could have been taller, a handsome king that looked more like a Disney prince instead of a Galilean peasant. There could have been no agony, no cross, no tomb. There could have been, but there wasn’t. When Hope Seems Lost And this was God’s design — in his universe, there is more beauty when victory rises out of weakness. The morning shines brighter after a tumultuousness night. The glory is greater at the end of three silent days, when the Lamb has been slain, when all hope seems lost. That’s where this World Series was pointing. Game 6 made this clear. The Cardinals were finished. It was over. Over. Well, over until David Freese's two-run triple in the bottom of the 9th, then Berkman's RBI single in the 10th, then Freese's walk-off homer in the 11th. Almost too good to be true. Like an out-of-breath Mary flinging open the disciples’ door to announce an empty tomb. Then Game 7 came, and the Cards won that one, too. It was an unforgettable Series, one that reaches deep into the human soul, resonating with the imprint of our Creator and reminding us why the good stories are, well, so good. Article by Jonathan Parnell