The Fall of Cardinal Wolsey

In 1529, Thomas Cardinal Wolsey was the most powerful man in England after the king himself. He had amassed estates worth millions, built Hampton Court Palace to rival any royal residence, and wielded his tongue like a weapon — destroying rivals through whispered accusations and carefully placed lies. He boasted openly that no one could touch him. His wealth, he believed, made him untouchable.

Within months, everything was stripped away. Henry VIII seized Hampton Court. Wolsey lost his title of Lord Chancellor. His allies vanished like morning frost. Traveling north in disgrace, the once-mighty cardinal fell ill and died at Leicester Abbey in November 1530. His reported final words haunt the centuries: "Had I but served God as diligently as I have served the king, He would not have given me over in my grey hairs."

Psalm 52 could have been written with Wolsey in mind. The psalmist describes the one who "trusted in the abundance of his riches" and "sought refuge in his own destruction" — and then paints the contrasting picture: "But I am like a green olive tree in the house of God. I trust in the steadfast love of God forever and ever."

The olive tree grows slowly, lives for centuries, and bears fruit in every season. Wolsey's palace still stands, but it belongs to someone else now. The olive tree endures because its roots draw from something no king can confiscate — the unfailing love of the Almighty.