My first book, Fabricating Founders, (forthcoming, Brill 2022) examines origin narratives as one of the many discursive techniques by which the past is fabricated, deployed, and interpreted by contemporary social actors. I am interested in how founding figures constitute and reconstitute collective memories of the past and mediate ever-shifting conceptions of spatial (local, national, international) and religious identities. Founding figures are memorialized not only in written histories and hagiographies but also in landmarks, place names, and rituals that require continuous (re)interpretation by contextually embedded audiences. Why are founding figures so powerful? What aspects of identity formation can origins highlight that other discourses on the past might not? To get at these questions, I focus on early modern English Catholics (and their interlocutors) who were not only reworking the story of Christianity’s arrival in England for a variety of social ends, but also rethinking the nature of historical knowledge and truth itself. My analysis centers on the process by which Catholics strategically reimagined, rewrote, and reinterpreted the lives of the founder-saints (British, Celtic, Anglo-Saxon, and Roman) who brought and spread Christianity in England. This focus serves as an example through which to examine a variety of themes, including the reworkings of sainthood and martyrdom, remaking space and spatial understandings of culture, and the relationship between devotional culture and history, ultimately demonstrating the ways in which the story of the arrival of Christianity was, like all quests for origins, a rhetorical (rather than historical) enterprise. Early modern historians were making a shift in the production of England as place, which involved discursive constructions of religion, ethnicity, and nation. They were reconsidering the role of the divine in human time and space, which led to debates about what humans could know and how God can confirm that knowledge. Discourses on origins were not only happening in manuscript and printed histories, but also in hagiographies, martyrologies, liturgical reenactments, shrines, chapels, and the landscape itself. What follows seeks to reflect on the multiplicity of circumstances of those telling the tales and of the ways in which these histories addressed the cultural needs of the communities that produced them.