Lady Margaret Beaufort’s gatehouse is restored at Christ’s College, Cambridge

The gatehouse at Christ’s College, Cambridge, has been restored and repainted in a project that took four years to complete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019)

Patrick Comerford

Strolling through Cambridge before and after this week’s USPG conference in High Leigh, it was a delight to see how one of the majestic college gates in Cambridge has been restored recently.

The restoration work at Christ’s College has taken four years to complete.

This Gatehouse on St Andrew’s Street is the main entrance to Christ’s College and is highly visible to tourists and shoppers in Cambridge. But the heraldic detail, dating from the early 1500s, had not been painted for many years and had become dull faded. The four-year project included research into the original colours and methods used, repairs, and the painting itself.

Lady Margaret Beaufort’s coat of arms on the gatehouse at Christ’s College, Cambridge (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019)

The gatehouse was built by Lady Margaret Beaufort, the mother of Henry VII and grandmother of Henry VIII, who refounded the college in the early 16th century.

Christ’s College was originally established in 1437 by William Byngham, who called his new college God’s House. The college moved to its present location in 1448 after Henry VI decided that he needed the original site for his new King's College.

In 1505, God’s House was re-dedicated as Christ’s College under the patronage of Lady Margaret Beaufort. She was the only daughter of John Beaufort, Duke of Somerset, and was married four times. With her marriage to Edmund Tudor, the mother of Henry VII, she became a key figure in the Wars of the Roses as the matriarch of the House of Tudor.

Lady Margaret is revered as the founder of not one but two Cambridge colleges, refounding Christ’s College in 1505, and before she died in 1509 beginning the development of Saint John’s College, which was completed posthumously by her executors in 1511. Lady Margaret Hall, the first Oxford college to admit women, is also named in her honour.

The Chapel of Christ’s College was consecrated on or around 1 June 1510 by the then Bishop of Ely, James Stanley, a stepson of Lady Margaret Beaufort. A pious woman, it is said that even before the chapel was consecrated she heard Mass from a gallery now represented by a window in the south wall of the chapel, although the chapel was not formally consecrated until a year after her death.

The chapel survived the Reformation and now stands as a spiritual presence at the front of Christ’s College, tucked away beside the Master’s Lodge. Much of the original chapel fabric is still visible and its original construction is almost entirely intact.

Lady Margaret Beaufort’s statue on the gatehouse at Christ’s College, Cambridge (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019)

Lady Margaret’s contribution to re-founding Christ’s College is celebrated in a number of statues, heraldic emblems, and other architectural features around the college buildings. The college is entered through the imposing 16th century gatehouse, which still boasts its original oak doors. Above the entry is a statue and the coat of arms of Lady Margaret Beaufort.

Much of the façade, including the late 16th century oak doors, remained largely unchanged until the masonry was refaced with harder stone in 1714. A statue of Lady Margaret was added in the 19th century.

Christ’s College is laid out in a series of four courts. First Court is the oldest part of the college, dating to the 15th century. The range between the Gatehouse and the Chapel formed part of the original God’s House and were built between 1448 and 1452. The buildings in First Court do not look their age as they were refaced with stone in the 18th century.

The Dining Hall is an early 16th century building. Although it was remodelled in the late Victorian period, the hall retains its original roof and a 16th century portrait of Lady Margaret Beaufort.

Second Court gives access to the Fellows’ Garden, arguably the finest such garden in a Cambridge college. The site has been owned by the college since 1554, but the present garden dates from 1825.

Milton’s Mulberry Tree was planted in the garden in 1608 – the year Milton was born – as part of an attempt to encourage the silk industry in England. Legend says Milton composed Lycidas under the tree. A bathing pool and summerhouse nearby have stood there since at least 1763.

The Old Library houses an excellent collection of mediaeval manuscripts and early printed material.

The notable alumni of Christ’s College include the Poet John Milton and the naturalist Charles Darwin.

I preached in the Chapel of Christ’s College, Cambridge, ten years ago [1 February 2009] at the Solemn Orchestral Mass for the Eve of Candlemas. The sermon was part of the Lent Term series, ‘The ears of the heart …,’ organised by the then chaplain, the Revd Christopher Woods.

I stayed in Christ’s College again in 2010 for a weekend before moving to rooms in Sidney Sussex College, where I was taking part in a summer school organised by the Institute for Orthodox Christian Studies.

Recently, people at Christ’s College realised that it had been many years since the gatehouse had been repainted and redecorated. It took about four years to research the right colours to be used, to restore wear and tear to the stonework and then to complete the repainting itself, which was undertaken by skilled craftsmen and women.

The restoration was carried out by Brown and Ralph, based in Longstanton. The firm believes the conservation of the stonework is going to increase its natural life, but also brighten the Cambridge streetscape.

Lady Margaret Beuafort’s coat of arms at the gatehouse at Saint John’s College, Cambridge (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019)

There is a similar gatehouse at Saint John’s College, Cambridge. Anyone interested in architecture, Tudor history and heraldry can catch an alternative glimpse of what the gatehouse at Christ’s College might look like should visit Saint John’s.

There however, the heraldic emblems of Lady Margaret are displayed in a burnished gold, and instead of a statue of Lady Margaret above her coat of arms, the gatehouse displays a statue of Saint John the Evangelist holding the poisoned emblem associated with him in many legends.

The gatehouse at Saint John’s College is similar in many ways to its counterpart at Christ’s College (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019)

Six geese-a-laying on the Sixth Day of Christmas

On the Sixth Day of Christmas ... six geese-a-laying; geese on the banks of the Cam behind King’s College, Cambridge (Photograph: Tenaya Hurst)

Patrick Comerford

The Sixth Day of Christmas, 30 December, is a quiet day in the Church calendar, without commemorations, although the Episcopal Church (TEC) recalls Frances Joseph-Gaudet (1934), the Educator and Prison Reformer, on this day.

I was late sending out Christmas cards this year. If mine arrives today I hope you are reminded that Christmas continues for twelve days; if it does not arrive, please forgive me. For many people, the next two days may be quite busy with lots of guests, and preparations for ringing in the New Year. Perhaps today is a good day to begin preparing for the New Year, to begin making resolutions that have a truly spiritual and Christian intent.

The sixth verse of the traditional song, The Twelve Days of Christmas, is:

On the sixth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me...

Six geese-a-laying,
five golden rings,
four colly birds,
three French hens,
two turtle doves
and a partridge in a pear tree.

The Christian interpretation of this song often sees the six geese a-laying as figurative representations of the six days of Creation (see Genesis 1).

The Church of Ireland Lectionary readings for the Eucharist today are: I John 2: 12-17; Psalm 96: 7-10; Luke 2: 36-40.

Canon Patrick Comerford is Director of Spiritual Formation, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute, and a canon of Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin.

Life in a Cambridge college chapel is like the life of the Church in minature

The Revd Dr Peter Waddell, Dean of Sidney Sussex College, Cambridge (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Focus on university chaplains

Patrick Comerford profiles two Irish chaplains working in Cambridge colleges

For a third consecutive year, I spent part of the summer on study leave, participating in the summer school organised in Sidney Sussex College by the Institute for Orthodox Christian Studies, part of the Cambridge Theological Federation.

In Cambridge, I enjoyed the opportunity to stay at both Sidney Sussex College and at Christ’s College, Cambridge, along with the hospitality of these college communities and their chapel life.

Irish connections

Both colleges also have Irish-born chaplains. The Revd Christopher Woods was a curate in Saint Mark’s, Dundela, Diocese of Down, before moving to Christ’s College in 2007.

The Revd Dr Peter Waddell, from Newcastle, Co Down, has recently been appointed Dean of Sidney Sussex College; he completed his PhD while he was an ordinand at Westcott House, Cambridge, and was appointed chaplain of Sidney Sussex in 2005.

Christ’s College, Cambridge

The Revd Christopher Woods has been chaplain of Christ’s College, Cambridge, since 2007 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

This year is a busy one for Mr Woods as the Chapel of Christ’s College marks the 500th anniversary of its consecration in 1510. Last year, however, was also busy, as the University of Cambridge celebrated its 800th anniversary and Christ’s College marked the 200th anniversary of the birth of one of its best-known students, Charles Darwin.

Christ’s College was founded in 1505 and generously endowed by Henry VII’s mother, Lady Margaret Beaufort. As the first buildings went up in what is now First Court, a new chapel was built in beside the Master’s Lodge and consecrated by Bishop James Stanley of Ely – Lady Margaret Beaufort’s stepson - in June 1510.

High on the south wall of the chapel nave, an open casement window from Lady Margaret’s oratory recalls how she sat there in prayer five centuries ago, watching the liturgy below.

The chapel survived the Reformation and the Cromwellian era and has seen great changes, but the original chapel building is almost entirely in tact and continues to be a spiritual presence at the heart of Christ’s College.

The Chapel of Christ’s College, Cambridge … this year marks the 500th anniversary of the consecration of the chapel (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

To mark the chapel’s 500th anniversary, the choir launched a new CD and in June the Bishop of Clogher, the Rt Revd Dr Michael Jackson, presided and preached at a Solemn Evensong of thanksgiving and re-dedication.

Other anniversary events later this year will include a celebrity poetry reading in the chapel with Ruth Padel, the poet-in-residence at Christ’s College, who is a direct descendant of Charles Darwin. Her latest book, Darwin – A Life in Poems, celebrates his life in verse.

The statutes of Christ’s College continue to demand that every fellow undertakes to uphold it as a place of education, religion, learning and research. As part of this tradition and heritage, the chapel offers the college community a space set aside for quiet reflection, prayer, meditation and worship, says Mr Woods.

The liturgy is usually relaxed, yet formal, with three choral services a week and many occasional services. The welcome is reflected in the refreshments served after chapel services; they can include coffee and croissants, port, sherry, fruit juice, hot chocolate or – when I was preaching there last year – prosecco.

The chapel is a focus for many college activities, including music and the arts. Mr Woods points out that the chapel is open and inclusive and a place of inquiry. “In fact, many people come to chapel on their own to take time out,” he adds, “and to gather strength, to find space, to pray and worship or simply to ‘get away from it all’.”

He comments: “I say to first-year students: ‘Nowhere else in the world are you going to get such beauty at your fingertips, that you can own, that you can be a part of.’ Every time I walk in, I think how beautiful it is, and how privileged I am to be here.”

Sidney Sussex College

The chapel of Sidney Sussex College is at the heart of Chapel Court (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Sidney Sussex College, a short, five-minute walk from Christ’s College, was founded in 1594. Dr Waddell points out that the chapel is at the heart of life in the college, serving as the centre of worship, prayer and inquiry for the whole Sidney family. The chapel is open all day and the Lady Chapel, with the Reserved Sacrament, is especially conducive to private prayer. Lectio Divina is an integral part of chapel life every Tuesday night.

The chapel choir in Sidney Sussex sings at Choral Evensong on Fridays and Sundays, regularly tours, and has produced award-winning CDs.

Oliver Cromwell’s head is buried in the chapel and his portrait hangs in the hall. On the stairs leading to the Old Library above the ante-chapel is a portrait of John Garnett, a former fellow who became Bishop of Ferns and Leighlin (1752-1758) and Bishop of Clogher (1758-1782).

Like many Cambridge colleges, Sidney Sussex also has strong Irish connections – the Minister for Finance in the Republic of Ireland, Brian Lenihan, was a postgraduate student at Sidney Sussex.

Cambridge college chaplains find the diversity in chapel worship to be a great strength and Dr Waddell says that chaplains have wonderful opportunities for ministry. He believes that, in many ways, the chapels are miniatures of the Church of England and its parishes, with constant requests for baptisms, weddings, and funerals, so that the college chapels are part of the complete cycle of life.

“The notion of a chaplain being in this kind of environment is very, very unusual, but absolutely essential,” says Mr Woods. “The opportunities for ministry here are unheard-of. It’s work I love; work you can get your teeth into.”

Canon Patrick Comerford is Director of Spiritual Formation, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute. This two-page feature and these photographs were published in the Church of Ireland Gazette on Friday 3 September 2010

Further travels in search of Pugin

Saint Michael’s ... a rare example of an English church with a thatched roof ... is said to have inspired Pugin’s design of a parish church in Barntown, Co Wexford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2010)

Patrick Comerford

When the summer school ended in Sidney Sussex College, I headed off on Friday afternoon to Longstanton, a small village about 10 km north of Cambridge with a population of about 1,700.

Long Stanton railway station closed in 1970, but as part of the Cambridge and Huntingdon line, Long Stanton railway station is recalled in the Flanders and Swann song, Slow Train. But the train station closed in 1970, and I had to catch a No 5 bus from Emmanuel Street heading towards Saint Ive’s, out past the back of Christ’s College and Sidney Sussex, past Jesus College, Westcott House, the Round Church, Saint John’s, over Mag’s Bridge, past Magdalene, New Hall, Fitzwilliam, Girton and out into the countryside on the road leading to Huntingdon.

This is still flat, sun-kissed open countryside, with yellow fields that spread as far as they eye can see. Yet Longstanton is only half an hour away. But, while the villages and the country side are captivating in the summer sun, I was in search of some interesting connections with the influences on Augustus Pugin, the leading light in the Gothic Revival in mid-19th century church architecture.

It is only a few weeks ago since I found myself searching out Pugin’s churches and cathedrals in Uttoxeter, Cheadle, Birmingham and Solihull, trying to find what had influenced and inspired his designs for his church buildings in Co Wexford. On this summer afternoon, I was in for a special treat.

One village, two parishes

All Saints’ Church, on the corner of the High Street in Longstanton, dates from the mid-14th century (Photograph: Patrick Comerford 2010)

Longstanton is unusual among English villages for it has two mediaeval parish churches – a legacy of its long history as two parishes. For most of its history, Longstanton was divided into two separate parishes – the larger Long Stanton All Saints’ to the north of the village, and the smaller Long Stanton Saint Michael to the south. The Domesday Book in 1086 refers to both a “Stantone” and a “Stantune.” By 1240, there are references to both “Stanton” and “the other Stanton.”

During World War II, the once sleepy village was transformed in 1940 with the opening of RAF Oakington, when new housing estates were built and the population trebled. The two villages were formally amalgamated only as late as 1953.

The larger of the two parish churches, All Saints’ Church, is in the centre of the village and dates from the mid-14th Century, when it replaced an earlier church that had been destroyed by a fire. All Saints’ closed in 2003 when the ceiling collapsed, but it opened again three years ago, and is now a Grade I listed building.

The restored Hatton family monument in All Saints’ Church, Longstanton (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2010)

Further north, there are thatched houses, the site of the old railway station, and the Black Bull – a pub that is said to be over 300 years’ old but that was closed on Friday afternoon.

At the southern end of the village, Saint Michael’s Church is the smaller and older parish church. It was built around 1230, and is a notable, rare example of an English church with a thatched roof – one of only two surviving thatched churches in Cambridgeshire. A well in the churchyard is said to have been used in mediaeval times for baptisms.

Saint Michael’s is a Grade II listed building. It has no longer used for regular worship and has been closed since the two parishes in Longstanton were amalgamated. It is now maintained by the Churches Conservation Trust.

Inspirational and formative

Saint Michael’s played an interesting and formative role in the development of 19th century church architecture, inspiring the design in churches from Wexford to Philadelphia and South Dakota (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2010)

Saint Michael’s played an interesting and formative role in the development of 19th century church architecture. Churches modelled after its style have been built in Co Wexford, Philadelphia and South Dakota.

Pugin conceived of Saint Alphonsus’s Church, Barntown, in the parish of Glynn, as a complete Catholic parish church and is his only complete expression in Ireland of the small village parish church. Some writers suggest the church in Barntown is a finer version of the simplest of all Pugin’s designs, Saint Augustine’s in Solihull, which I visited earlier this month. However, most historians say Pugin’s design for Barntown was based on Saint Michael’s in Longstanton.

Saint Michael’s also inspired the design of Saint James the Less in Philadelphia. The remarkable fidelity of that church to Gothic design was accidental. When the parish asked the Cambridge Camden Society for a set of plans for a new church, it was inadvertently sent measured drawings of Saint Michael’s in Longstanton, prepared by GG Place, and these were followed in every detail under the supervision of the architect, John E Carver.

The Round Church … Pugin was enthusiastic about its restoration (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2010)

Pugin loved this part of England: he was a keen supporter of the Cambridge Camden Society, which was founded in 1835 and later became the Ecclesiological Society, and was enthusiastic about its restoration of the Round Church in Cambridge; in 1842-1843, he built Saint Andrew’s, the first post-Reformation Roman Catholic parish church in Cambridge; and for three years, between 1846 and 1849, he was involved in the restoration of the chapel in Jesus College, including the furnishing and the redecoration of the mediaeval fabric, and inserting the lancet windows at the East End.

The chapel of Jesus College … Pugin was involved in the restoration, furnishing and redecoration of the mediaeval fabric (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2010)

But Pugin was unrestrained in his criticism of the work of his contemporaries in Cambridge, and described Saint Paul’s as a “cheap church of the nineteenth century.” He had already used red brick in building Saint Chad’s Cathedral in Birmingham – had he had now consigned this approach to church design to the past?

On his visits to Cambridge, he was lionized by his lifelong friend, Benjamin Webb, one of the founders of the Cambridge Camden Society, and Pugin was invited to lecture in Cambridge on his True Principles and to contribute to the journal The Ecclesiologist.

Ely Cathedral … Webb found Pugin weeping openly in the Lady Chapel after Choral Evensong one summer afternoon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2010)

Perhaps Pugin returned to this corner of England again and again for inspiration and for emotional reasons. He once expressed complete contempt for Wyatt’s work at Ely Cathedral, and during another visit to Ely Cathedral on a late summer afternoon, Webb found Pugin weeping openly in the Lady Chapel after Evensong.

I had a better experience in Ely Cathedral on a visit this summer, when I stayed for Choral Evensong. But that’s another story for another day, I think.

Downing College, which has no courts, was designed in the classical style by William Wilkins (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2010)

Earlier in the day, I visited Downing College, which is unusual among Cambridge Colleges, for it has no courts. It was designed in the classical style by William Wilkins, because George III disapproved of the Gothic style.

Perhaps there is an irony in the fact that I am staying at Sidney Sussex College, which owes so much to Wyatt’s interpretation of Gothic architecture, despite Pugin’s detestation of his work.

At the beginning of the 19th century, Wyatt removed the dilapidated classical gateway of Sidney Sussex, replacing it with a new Porter’s Lodge and Tower, and redesigned the Master’s Lodge and the two front courts, Chapel Court and Hall Court, between 1821 and 1832. He covered the red-brick buildings with Roman cement, added a porch and bell turret to the chapel, and decorated the buildings with gables and battlements in his interpretation of the Gothic style.

Wyatt removed the classical gateway at Sidney Sussex, replacing it with a new Porter’s Lodge and Tower, and redesigned Hall Court and Chapel Court (Photograph, Patrick Comerford, 2010)

In a harsh criticism of Wyatt, Sir Nicholas Pevsner – who had a strong affection for Pugin’s work, especially in Staffordshire – once said unkindly: “There is no getting away from the fact that Sidney Sussex is architecturally the least attractive of the old colleges of the universities.”

For my part, though, Sidney Sussex had been a very attractive and very welcoming old college for the past week. I am heading back to Dublin this afternoon, but hope to return to Cambridge soon.

Canon Patrick Comerford is Director of Spiritual Formation, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute, and a canon of Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin

‘Prayer comes from love, love comes from joy’

Early morning calm on Sidney Street, outside Sidney Sussex College this morning (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2010)

Patrick Comerford

The summer organised in Cambridge by the Institute of Orthodox Christian Studies came to an end today. For the past week we have been considering ‘Passion: Human & Divine,’ and our final lecture this morning was by Dr Marcus Plested on ‘Removing the Veil: Macarius (and others) on the Passions.’

We were presented with two interesting contrasts in his readings from the Fathers. Firstly: “[...] prayer comes from love, love comes from joy, joy comes from gentleness, gentleness comes from humility, humility comes from service, service comes from hope, hope comes from faith, faith comes from obedience, obedience comes from simplicity.”

And secondly: “[...] hatred comes from anger, anger comes from pride, pride comes from vainglory, vainglory comes from lack of faith lack of faith comes from hardness if heart, hardness of heart comes from neglect, neglect comes from slackening, slackening comes from acedia, acedia comes from lack of patience, lack of patience comes from pleasure-seeking.”

Our discussions continued in the corridors and courts of Sidney Sussex late into the night (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2010)

This has been a busy but fulfilling week at Sidney Sussex College, and we celebrated it all last night at our formal dinner in the Old Library in Chapel Court. Apart from the seminars, lectures, and the daily round of chapel services, including Morning Prayer, Vespers and the Liturgy, we have had good debates and discussions over coffee, in the corridors and in the courts, at meals in the Hall, and in the local hostelries, with many of these conversations carrying on late into the night.

The participants in this year’s summer school have been drawn from across the globe – including Ireland, England, Iceland, Germany, Mexico, Israel, the US, Canada, Israel, Estonia, Romania, Greece and Russia. Old friendships have been renewed and new friendships have been made.

Looking for a new home

Meanwhile the institute is looking for a new home. For the past ten years, the IOCS has been housed in Wesley House, the Methodist college beside Jesus College. Wesley House is to be sold next year, and like all parts of the Cambridge Theological Federation housed there, IOCS is under notice to quit.

Suitable premises less than twenty minutes walk from the centre of Cambridge have come on the market in the form of a former hotel, with 16 bedrooms, and generous chapel conference, lecture and office facilities. The institute is hoping to raise £2 million to buy a new home.

Canon Patrick Comerford is Director of Spiritual Formation, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute, and a canon of Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin

A silver moon over Silver Bridge

Looking across the Cam from Silver Bridge at the moon rising over Coe Fen (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2010)

Patrick Comerford

Over the last few nights, those of us who have been taking part in this summer school in Cambridge have enjoyed each other’s company in the evenings in a variety of places, including the Eagle, which is owned by Corpus Christi College, the Mitre -- which is an appropriately-named place for welcoming people with active church interests – and the Baron of Beef on Bridge Street, and the Anchor below Silver Bridge, with its views out over the River Cam and across towards Coe Fen.

Charles Darwin’s granddaughter, Gwen Raverat, writing in Period Piece in 1952 – the year in which I was born – recalled how “nearly all the life of Cambridge flowed backward and forward under the bridge, and before our house.”

In her Edwardian fashion, she was disturbed by the behaviour of undergraduates and the scenes she saw on Silver Bridge and below in the Anchor. In the Period Piece, she describes this pub as “a mysterious haunt, full of Bad Women.”

Her memories were from an age long gone. Later, the Anchor was a haunt of the poet Ted Hughes. Today it is popular in term time with undergraduates from Pembroke or Queens or ordinands from Ridley – and graduates from Darwin College. Outside term time, the Anchor is all a-bustle, busy with tourists queuing for a punt or recalling their first experiences of seeing Cambridge from the Backs, while the bridge is crammed with visitors staring in wonder at the Mathematical Bridge.

Few of these people below in the Anchor or above on Silver Bridge, tourists or students, probably ever heard of Coe Fen or realise its place in Anglican hymnody.

Gwen Raverat believed that “men got drunk; women didn’t.” We may not have been drunk, but I wondered what she would have thought of our motley group of participants in the summer school – women and men, priests and students, from Ireland, Iceland, England, Canada, and Israel/Palestine – as we looked across the Cam and as the moon was rising over Coe Fen?

It was a balmy summer’s evening. I hope for those we saw there it was romantic. How shall I sing that majesty?

Human Passion: Enemy or Friend?

Patrick Comerford and Metropolitan Kallistos Ware at Sidney Sussex College, Cambridge, this afternoon

Patrick Comerford

Metropolitan Kallistos Ware was our lecturer again this afternoon at the summer school organised by the Institute for Orthodox Christian Studies. In his second lecture today, Metropolitan Kallistos addressed the topic: “Human Passion: Enemy or Friend?”

He asked whether passions are necessarily a bad thing. Passions are mentioned only three times in the New Testament, and always by the Apostle Paul, who speaks of them in the context of the misuse of sexuality, greed and bad desires (see Romans 1: 26; Colossians 3: 5; and I Thessalonians 4: 4-5), although desires are not always bad for him.

Illustrating the need to be correct and accurate in giving Biblical references, he told the story of a priest who once wanted to send a telegram congratulating a woman who was getting married. He wanted to use a Biblical quotation and chose the verse: “Perfect love casts out fear” (I John 4: 18). Unwisely, he decided to cut down the cost of the telegram to the wedding by merely sending the Biblical reference. However, the Post Office missed the number I and sent a message saying: John 4: 18. She looked up the reference, and read the words of Christ to the Samaritan woman at the well: “For you have had five husbands, and the one you have now is not your husband.”

Patristic and philosophical thinking on the Passions

We went on to look at what the Greek Fathers had to say on the passions, and their philosophical background in early Hellenism. There were two philosophical views of passion. The first was the Stoic view, represented by Zeno, who saw passion in negative terms. Zeno calls passion “an excessive, unbalanced impulse.” Passion is a feeling or energy that has got out of control, that is disobedient to reason, that is contrary to nature. So, the Stoics saw the Passions as diseases.

On the other hand, Aristotle saw the passions as neither virtues nor vices, but as neutral impulses. Pathos includes not just physical desire or anger, but also includes friendship, courage and joy.

Plato is similar. In the Dialogues, the charioteer has two horses. The chariot driver represents reason and the pious part of the soul, but he has two horses or forces to harness: the first is noble and well-behaved, representing the higher impulses, such as courage; the impulses of the spirited part of the soul, represented by the second horse or force, are disorderly and ill-trained, denoting the lower desires such as the sexual desires. The charioteer has to control both, and this requires proper balance and harmony. The passions give us the vital energies that enable us to move. Reason needs both the desires and the passions to get moving. The Platonic writings even talk about blessed passion.

Most of the Greek Fathers are negative about the passions, taking the Stoic view of the passions. He referred to the way Clement of Alexandria repeats Zeno’s definition of pathos as an excessive impulse that is disobedient to reason and contrary to nature. The aim of the Christian is to reach apatheia, which does not mean apathy or indifference, but is a state of spiritual freedom where we are not dominated or controlled by these passions, replacing bad energy with good energy.

Evagrius of Pontius in the late fourth century follows Clement in seeing the passions in negative terms, linking them with the demons. He lists eight evil thoughts, demons or passions, which became the source of the western doctrine of the seven deadly sins. Evagrius seeks purification from the passions, but links dispassion with love, and so is not simply negative. “When you have ceased to lust, then you can begin to love.”

In the Macarian Homilies, Macarius agrees with Evagrius when it comes to the passions.

Saint Gregory of Nyssa has a similar view of pathos. The passions are not an original part of human nature. Pathos has no place in the divine image and likeness, but reflects our fallen state. He sees the passions as bestial irrationality, reducing the human person to the level of the brute beats. But he allows that passions may sometimes be turned to good use, and his more affirmative view shows that the inflouence of Aristotle is beginning to come in.

This negative view has continued in the majority thinking in Orthodoxy, he said. He referred to the Romanian theologian, Dimitriu Staniloae for whom passion is an exclusive concern with self and infinite attachment to finite things, and who says there can be no virtue where there is passion.

Sidney Sussex College seen from Green Street this afternoon, with the top of Garden Court, where I am staying, and the spire of All Saints’ Church on Jesus Lane, rising above the buildings of Chapel Court (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2010)

A minority view

But he said he did not necessarily accept majority views, and referred to the inscription Bertrand Russell’s grandmother wrote on the Bible she gave to him: “Thou shalt not follow a multitude to do evil” (Exodus 23: 2).

Among the minority viewpoints, he referred to was Abba Isaias (died ca 491), who lived in Palestine; he discusses a series of qualities, including desire, zeal (or jealousy), anger, hatred, and pride, which most people regard as passions. For Abba Isaias, all these things are in accordance with nature, a natural part of our personhood as created by God. He says anger is not in itself evil; what matters is the way in which it is used, and what you do with your anger.

We should feel anger with the demons. The focus should not be on repressing passions but on redirecting them. Jealousy is not entirely evil, for it is said in Scripture that God is a jealous God. The other meaning of the word in Greek is zeal or ardour. This has a negative form when we are jealous of other people, but can be positive when we are zealous and enthusiastic for others.

We are loved by God, and must not to hate what God loves. So we can use pride to have a proper self-image and self-worth, for we are created in the image and likeness of God. Pride can have a good use in driving back the demons of self-despair. There is a proper sense of self-love and self-esteem. Abba Isaias says all the passions can be turned to good use.

Theoderet of Cyrus, in The Healing of Hellenic Maladies, says passions such as desire and anger can be positive. Without desire, there is no longing for divine things, no appetite for food and drink or what he calls lawful procreation. Without these passions, we would die from anorexia and humanity would become extinct. Anger can act as a restraint on our desire for things that are despicable and impure.

He found parallels in the rabbinic tradition, which speaks of the evil impulse or yetzer ha-ra (Genesis 6: 5) as created and implanted by God, giving us the impulse of challenge, without which we would lack direction.

Maximos the Confessor, who is sometimes negative about the passions, also speaks of “the blessed passion of divine love.” Love for Maximos is a passion. He says that the passions are not just reprehensible, but can be praiseworthy. Desire and anger mingle together and can correct each other and produce virtue.

In the later Byzantine period, Saint Gregory Palamas (right) speaks of divine and blessed passions. Our aim is not the death of passions but their redirection.

But, Metropolitan Kallistos asked, did Christ have passions?

If the passions are neutral and not sinful, then Christ did have our passions, he said. Saint John of Damascus says Christ assumes only the natural and blameless passions. He points out that Christ was subject to hunger, thirst, weariness and the fear of death.

He says this is not just a linguistic point. The way we use words influences the way we view reality. Surely it makes a difference whether we say we mortify or transfigure the passions. Do we eradicate or educate, destroy or redirect? He would much prefer the approach that says transfigure, and that is the approach he uses in pastoral care and in the sacrament of confession.

He concluded by quoting the poet John Donne, who said in his A Litany: “That our affections kill us not nor die” (John Donne, A Litany, XXVII).

Participants in the IOCS Summer School in the grounds of Sidney Sussex College, Cambridge, this afternoon

Earlier this afternoon, I took time out to have coffee in Michaelhouse with the Revd Dr Peter Waddell, who has been chaplain of Sidney Sussex for the past four years and who was recently appointed Dean. I don’t know if pleasure counts as one of the passions, it was appositive pleasure to hear the news of his new role.

Canon Patrick Comerford is Director of Spiritual Formation, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute, and a canon of Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin

Does God have feelings and emotions?

Metropolitan Kallistos Ware lecturing at the IOCS Summer School in Sidney Sussex College, Cambridge, this morning

Patrick Comerford

We are discussing the Passions at this year’s IOCS summer school in Sidney Sussex College this week. Metropolitan Kallistos Ware, a former chair of the Institute for Orthodox Christian Studies, asked us this morning: Can we ascribe passion to God? Does God suffer? Does God have feelings and emotions?

He pointed out that the Greek word πάθος (pathos) is linked with the verb πάσχειν (paschein, and talked about to suffer passion as an event that is experienced passively, like sleep – we often say that one is overcome by sleep.

Classical theology, under the influence of Aristotle, answered the questions he posed with a resounding No, saying God is impassible, does not and cannot suffer and cannot have feelings and emotions. This Aristotelian idea of God, the unmoved mover, has generally been accepted by Christian writers, eastern and western, but Metropolitan Kallistos said he is not sure that this influence has been entirely benign.

The entrance to Sidney Sussex College, Cambridge, where the summer school of the Institute for Orthodox Christian Studies is taking place (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2010)

Digressing, in a lecture that was filled with the characteristic humour and passion for which Metropolitan Kallistos is well-known, he told how the famous Dr Spooner of Oxford – who is attributed with sayings such as “you have hissed my mystery lecture” – once preached a sermon, and then returned to the pulpit to tell his bewildered congregation: “Every time I mentioned Aristotle, I meant Our Lord Jesus Christ.”

Aristotle had given us the idea that God is pure actuality, with no imperfection, never passive but only active. Therefore, he cannot suffer, be influenced or controlled by anything outside himself. Similarly, Thomas Aquinas says God cannot be conquered by or suffer violence, God is unmovable.

This classical image of God is derived from Aristotle, but not from the Bible, where there is a very different image of God, he said.

In the Old Testament, God is passionate, cares for his people, grieves over their sufferings and their sins (see Genesis 6: 6; Judges 10: 16; Hosea 11: 8; Jeremiah 31: 20). In the New Testament, Jesus Christ feels righteous indignation, despair and sorrow, loss and absence of God. He suffers, but is this only in his human nature, as man? Does he suffer in his divine nature?

The traditional answer is that God suffers, but only as God incarnate, in the human nature of Jesus. Metropolitan Kallistos wondered whether this was an entirely satisfactory answer. He asked, what about the involvement of the pre-incarnate Christ in suffering? He recalled the story of the three young men who were thrown into the fiery furnace, and were seen to be accompanied by a fourth, who was like a son of God (see Daniel 3: 25). This fourth figure is understood to be the pre-incarnate Christ, and there he is involved in the suffering of the three young men. The Book of Revelation speaks of the Lamb slain from the foundation of the world. The implication is that the suffering of Christ on the cross is to be carried right back before the incarnation to the beginning of creation (Revelation 13: 8).

Melitus of Sardis believes the pre-incarnate Christ suffered with the righteous, that he was murdered with Abel, bound with Isaac, exiled with Joseph, exposed with Moses, persecuted in David, and dishonoured in the Prophets, participating with the suffering of the people in the Old Testament. Pascal says Christ will be in agony, even unto the end of the world.

The first action of the Risen Christ is to show the wounds on his hands and on his side (John 20: 20), not just for the sake of recognition, but it may also suggest that even in the glory of the Risen Christ there is still a place for our human suffering. At the Second Coming, we shall recognise him because we see the wounds on his hands and feet. Suffering passes, but the fact of having suffered always remains.

Quoting an early third century source, the story of Perpetua and Felicita, he told how Perpetua, when she was facing martyrdom, said: “There will be another in me who will suffer for me.” When we suffer, the Risen and Glorified Christ co-suffers with us. Augustine had said: “Whatever the Church suffers, He also suffers.”

He quoted from Julian of Norwich, George Herbert and William Temple, as he made his argument that Christ continues to be involved in suffering, right up to the end of the world.

Christ’s sacrifice on the Cross is perfect and complete, and we cannot add to it. But the Apostle Paul talks about his sufferings being added to Christ’s suffering, so that Christ is suffering too (see Colossians 1: 24). Christ’s suffering is not limited to his incarnate life He suffered before, and continues to suffer now. We should not limit the suffering of God to the incarnation or to God the Son, for Saint Paul also said: “Grieve not the Holy Spirit of God” (Ephesians 4: 30). When God the Son suffers his suffering is part of the Trinitarian movement.

Christ became incarnate to share our sufferings. “There was a cross in the heart of God long before one was set up outside the walls of Jerusalem.”

Drawing on the writings of Origen in the Homilies on Ezekiel, he said the pathos of Christ’s suffering is love, and asked: How can you say God is impassible if God is the God of Love? God suffers and God suffers with us because he is a God of Love.

Canon Patrick Comerford is Director of Spiritual Formation, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute, and a canon of Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin.

Visiting Nosey Parker in the library at Corpus Christi

Archbishop Matthew Parker (right) at the door of the chapel in Corpus Christi College (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Patrick Comerford

I visited the Parker Library at Corpus Christi College, Cambridge, this morning as part of the programme for this year’s summer school of the Institute for Orthodox Christian Studies.

The Parker Library is named after Archbishop Matthew Parker (1504-1575), who was the Master of Corpus Christi 1544 to 1553, before becoming Archbishop of Canterbury (1559-1575). The library is a treasure house of mediaeval and renaissance manuscripts and early printed books. The magnificent collection was given to Corpus Christi College by Parker and among the books and manuscripts we were shown this morning are the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, the principal source book for early English history; the Northumbrian Gospel (ca 700), which is a century older than the Book of Kells; and the best manuscript of Chaucer’s Troilus and Criseyde.

The Parker Library ... rebuilt in the 1820s by William Wilkins (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2010)

Other important parts of the collection include Middle English, French and Latin texts on subjects ranging from alchemy and astrology to music and medicine. We were shown an early Greek Psalter from Mount Sinai, letters signed by Martin Luther and John Calvin, and a text from Saint Basil in Greek, transcribed by Melanchton, which shows the interest of the reformers in returning to Patristic sources.

The collection comprises over 600 manuscripts, around 480 of which were given by Parker. The archbishop also donated around 1,000 printed volumes. However, we did not see a sixth-century Gospel book from Canterbury, which is the oldest illustrated Latin Gospel book now in existence. It is still used for the enthronement of each new Archbishop of Canterbury, and is brought to and from Cambridge to Canterbury for this service by the Master and one or two college representatives. Archbishop Rowan Williams has asked to borrow it to show to Pope Benedict XVI during his visit to Britain in September.

Archbishop Parker (right) at the chapel door in Corpus Christi, seen from a window in the Parker Library (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2010)

Archbishop Parker, who is celebrated by the college as its greatest benefactor, was so assiduous in acquiring books and manuscripts that he became known as “Nosey Parker.” He donated his library to the college, along with silver plate and the college symbol, the pelican, which appears on the college coat-of-arms-arms and crops up in many places around the college.

The Pelican of Matthew Parker on the altar frontal in the chapel of Corpus Christi (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2010)

To guarantee the integrity and safety of his collection, Parker specified in his endowment that should the college ever lose more than a certain number of books, the rest of his collection would pass first to Gonville and Caius College and then – if there were any more losses – to Trinity Hall.

Is it any wonder that every few years, representatives from both these colleges ceremonially inspect the collection at Corpus for any losses?

Parker placed similar conditions on the silver that he gave to Corpus. To this day, Corpus retains the entirety of Parker’s library and his silver collection, as they could not be sold off, in one case, or melted down, in the other, without losing both collections. Corpus was the only Oxbridge college not to sell its silverware in support of either side during the English civil war, and remained neutral. According to college legend, the silver plate was distributed to the fellows to keep it from being requisitioned by the warring factions.

Corpus Christi traditions

After Peterhouse, Corpus is the second-smallest of the traditional colleges of the university and the smallest in terms of the number of undergraduates. Formally known as the College of Corpus Christi and the Blessed Virgin Mary, this is the only Cambridge college founded by the townspeople of Cambridge: it was established in 1352 by the Guilds of Corpus Christi and the Blessed Virgin Mary.

The Old Court in Corpus is the oldest of court in any Oxbridge college. The new college acquired all the guild’s lands, ceremonies and revenues, including the annual Corpus Christi procession through the streets to Magdalene Bridge, during which the Eucharistic host was carried by a priest and several of the college’s treasures were carried by the Master and fellows, before returning for an extravagant dinner.

The Old Court in Corpus Christi College is the oldest surviving court in any Oxbridge college (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2010)

In Rose Macaulay’s The Towers of Trebizond Father Hugh Chantry-Pigg says Mass in a corner of the public gardens in Trebizond to mark the Feast of Corpus Christi. After Mass, he holds a procession round the gardens, chanting Ave Verum, stops, preaches a short sermon in English, and says that Corpus Christi is a great Christian festival and holy day, “always kept in the Church of England.”

The procession in Cambridge continued until the Reformation, but in 1535 William Sowode, who was Parker’s predecessor as Master (1523-1544), stopped this tradition. However, the college continues to have a grand dinner on the feast of Corpus Christi.

At first, the college had no chapel, and used Saint Bene’t’s Church next door for worship and liturgies until the beginning of the 16th century. At one time during the Reformation, the college was also known as Saint Bene’t’s ... perhaps in a conscious effort to make a break with the rituals associated with Corpus Christi.

The first college chapel was built by Thomas Cosyn, who was Master from 1487 to 1515, along with a passageway between Old Court and St Bene’t’s Church. The old chapel was demolished to make way for New Court, including the Parker Library, which were designed by William Wilkins and completed in 1827.

The chapel in Corpus Christi College was designed by William Wilkins as a miniature replica of the chapel in King’s College (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2010)

The chapel now in New Court is part of the 19th century rebuilding of Corpus Christi. It is the third chapel in the college, and was built as a replica of the chapel in nearby King’s College.

Eagles, ducks and time-eaters

The Eagle ... part of college life in Corpus Christi (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

The student bar in Corpus is called the Pelican, another living connection with Matthew Parker’s rebus. But Corpus also owns the Eagle Pub nearby, where some of us have adjourned for a drink in the evenings. James Watson and Francis Crick are said to have refreshed themselves in this pub while deliberating over the structure of DNA in the Cavendish Laboratory. On discovering the structure of DNA around 1952, it is said, they walked into the Eagle and declared: “We have found the secret of life.” A plaque on the front of the pub recalls the event.

Each spring, for the last few years, a duck has chosen to lay her eggs amongst the plants in Corpus Christi. This is some 200 metres from the River Cam and across Trumpington Street. When the ducklings hatch and are ready to get to the river, the mother duck signals this by walking around the court quacking loudly.

In a scene that would be the envy of any hotel in the Peabody Group, one of the porters then stops traffic on Trumpington Street to allow the duck and her offspring to cross. Across the street, the porters in Saint Catharine’s College then open their college gates and take over responsibility for getting them safely to the river.

The Chronophage or “Time Eater” at Corpus Christi is accurate only once every five minutes (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2010)

When the lease of the National Westminster branch bank adjacent to Corpus on the corner of Trumpington Street and King’s Parade expired five years ago, the college reclaimed the premises and began building Library Court, which was completed in 2008. The building, which has received several awards, is best known for the new clock – the Chronophage – which was unveiled by the physicist Stephen Hawking, on 18 September 2008.

The name Chronophage means “Time Eater.” The clock is unusual not only because of its design but because it is accurate only once every five minutes. A few steps away, the National Westminster night safe is still in the wall – time has failed to eat it.

In any case, it was delightful to spend time in Corpus Christi this morning, being a true Nosey Parker in this unique library.

Canon Patrick Comerford is Director of Spiritual Formation, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute, and a canon of Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin.

I never wanted to be a gardener, but ...

The gardens at Sidney Sussex are a haven for everyone taking part in this year’s summer school (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2010)

Patrick Comerford

I have never been interested in gardening. To be frank, I have no interest in ever being a gardener. But gardening is a noble and Christian profession ... on Easter morning, Mary first thought the Risen Christ was the gardener.

Here in Cambridge, the college courts and gardens are secluded and hidden places of calm. In the midst of a very busy tourist season, as I try to listen and study, these gardens and courts are oases of peace and tranquillity.

This year, I’m staying in Garden Court in Sidney Sussex College. The Richard Powell Library is on the ground floor. Unlike Cloister Court and Chapel Court, where I have stayed in previous years, this is an ugly, brash, functional modern building – too ugly to be part of a housing estate in Dagenham.

On the other hand, these rooms mean that I am right beside Mong Hall, where our lectures and seminars are taking place each day. My room looks out onto the King Street Gate and over the busy, lively junction of King Street, Hobson Street and Sussex Street. From most parts of this building, there are also gracious, gentle views across the Master’s Garden and the Fellows’ Garden that have given Garden Court its name.

Despite its brash, modern appearances, Garden Court is located on historic ground. This building stands over the original course of the King’s Ditch, an ancient watercourse that helped to protect 13th century Cambridge against the rebellious robber barons lurking in the Fens.

There is a tradition of maintaining the gardens at Sidney Sussex College that is as old as the college itself, stretching back more than 400 years. The college was founded in 1596, and from the spring of 1598 John Simon was employed here as a gardener. The college statutes that year provided for two gardens, the first for the Master and the second for the Fellows. Another formal garden, similar to the Fellows’ Garden, was laid out on the grounds where Garden Court now stands.

At one stage, some of the present gardens were used as sports grounds and for football matches. It is said that while Oliver Cromwell was an undergraduate at Sidney Sussex, he wasted much of his time playing football in the gardens. He is quoted as having said later he could remember the time when he was more afraid of being tackled in football by a fellow student, John Wainwright, than “of meeting any army since in the field.”

When Cloister Court was built in the early 1890s, the bodies buried in the mediaeval Franciscan cemetery on the site were disturbed and had to be re-interred. But the building of Cloister Court also took away from the Fellows’ Garden much of its original area.

The history of the present gardens begins with the work of the Revd Bertram Tom Dean Smith, who was elected a fellow in 1918 and later became the Dean and Tutor of Sidney Sussex. BTD, as he was known, was a keen and gifted amateur gardener, and he devoted the greater part of his leisure hours to improving and developing the Fellows’ Garden.

Strolling through the gardens this week, I have stumbled across delightful structures such as the classical gate, which holds a child-like secret promise of entry into Jesus Lane, and the view of the spire of All Saints’ Church beside Westcott House.

The Weeping Ash in the Master’s Garden in Sidney Sussex College, Cambridge (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2010)

Many of the trees in the gardens remember former undergraduates or fellows of Sidney Sussex. One of the most famous trees in the gardens of Sidney Sussex must be the weeping ash in the Master’s Garden, in the circular bed behind the lodge.

Although the Master’s Garden is normally closed to the public, I am told it springs to life at the receptions on degree days for graduands and their families, and during the tea parties given for members of Sidney Sussex returning to Cambridge for the annual gatherings commemorating Lady Frances Sidney, Countess of Sussex, and her foundation of the college.

It is said that Sidney glows most brightly in Spring, when the unmanicured areas beneath the trees are flooded with bulbs. Things begin to get busy in March, and every second year an elevation platform has to be hired to prune the Magnolia grandiflora in Hall Court.

The Magnolia grandiflora in Hall Court ... an elevation platform is needed to prune this every second year (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2010)

This week, I have appreciated these gardens as a haven for all of us taking part in the summer school organised by the Institute for Orthodox Christian Studies. In these balmy summer days, the gardens of Sidney Sussex offer each of us peace, tranquillity and quiet places to be at one with the Creator God and with creation and nature.

And in their own ways, these gardens truly are also reminders of that first Easter and the joys of the Resurrection.

Canon Patrick Comerford is Director of Spiritual Formation, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute, and a canon of Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin.

Humble love is an essential weapon

Sister Thecla speaking about the life of Saint Silouan the Athonite in the Monastery of Saint John in Tolleshunt Knights, Essex, this morning (Photograph : Patrick Comerford, 2010)

Patrick Comerford

I spent the day in the Monastery of Saint John in Tolleshunt Knights, Essex. This is my third time to visit this monastery, and I was there today with other participants from the summer school in Cambridge organised by the Institute for Orthodox Christian Studies.

We left Cambridge early in the morning, and drove through the beautiful, sun-kissed flat landscape of East Anglia and its pretty villages to arrive at the monastery in time for the Divine Liturgy, served by a Finnish monk, Father Melchisedec. The Patriarchal Stavropegic Monastery of Saint John the Baptist was founded over 50 years ago and has grown up around the Old Rectory at Tolleshunt Knights near Maldon.

The monastery is under the direct jurisdiction of the Ecumenical Patriarch, hence the style Stavropegic in its title. The Hegumen or Abbot of the monastery is Archimandrite Kyrill, originally from Australia. This is a mixed community, with about 13 men and about 20 women from a variety of backgrounds and nationalities.

Inside the Resurrection Chapel in the monastery grounds (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2010)

After breakfast with monks and nuns, Sister Thecla, originally from Romania, brought us on a tour of the monastery, including a visit to the first chapel built here by the founder, Father Sophrony, when he arrived from Paris, and told us of the life of his spiritual father, Saint Silouan the Athonite.

Sister Margaret spoke to us in the afternoon about the Passions in the teachings of Father Sophrony. Although Father Sophrony did not originate any new thinking on the passions, he wrote extensively and taught widely on the passions. He got his own knowledge from his discussions with ascetics on Mount Athos, where he lived for 22 years, from confessions, from his spiritual guide, Father Silouan, who had fought against the passions and won, and from his own struggle against the passions, which he described frankly in his books.

She spoke of freedom from passions as an active condition of the soul, of the whole being. It was not an absence, a vacuum, a lack of passions, but the presence of love, Christ living in us.

Control of the passions begins with faith and a sense of the living God. The goal of being freed from the passions is to be filled with Christ. As God is love, so the state of sanctification is a state of love.

She told the story from the Desert Fathers of Saint John the Short-One, who had struggled against his passions. But then he prayed to God for his passions to return because his prayer life had died down. He did not feel as close to God now that his struggles had died down, and he felt he was now missing out on feeling love for the world.

Merely being free of passions is not a sign of being in grace, she said. The focus in the battle against the passions is not on passion but on God, and the more attention there is on God, the more likely we are to be freed from the tensions of the passions.

In the act of practising the Jesus Prayer, we can find we are being attacked by a variety of thought. But when we finish the prayer, the attacks can stop. In the Ladder of Divine Ascent, Saint John Klimakos gives examples of dialogue with the passions, but these are strong souls.

There are many variations on the lists of seven or eight passions. But the main struggle, as Father Sophrony understood it, is against pride. Pride is the source of sin, including conceit, ambition, day-dreaming, fantasies, fear of death or even wanting to put an end to life. But humble love is the essential weapon against the passions.

Saint John Klimakos says heretics cannot learn real humility, because real humility is learned from Christ. When Saint Silouan had his experience of the revelation of Christ, he learned about true humility.

When Saint Silouan had an experience of the revelation of Christ, he learned about true humility ... a wall painting in Saint John’s Monastery (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2010)

The passions are good energies used in the wrong direction. For example, she said anger should be directed against evil or own sins and not against others. When we talk about self-emptying in Christianity, kenosis>, we talk about being filled with love, and our model is Christ and is based on our understanding of Christ and of God as Trinity.

She summarised her talk in her conclusion that we should use the energies of the passions to love our neighbours and to love God.

Canon Patrick Comerford is Director of Spiritual Formation, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute, and a canon of Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin.

The choir of the chapel of Sidney Sussex College

Patrick Comerford

Each day during the summer school at Sidney Sussex College, Cambridge, we are taking part in a daily cycle of Morning Prayer and Vespers in the the college chapel. Sadly, there is no opportunity to because term time is over, there is no opportunity to hear the magnificent choir of Sidney Sussex Chapel.

The choir, which is directed by Dr David Skinner, got back to Cambridge last week after a tour of Italy. Between 26 June and 10 July, the choir’s visits included Savignone, Levanto, La Spezia, Pontremoli, Riomaggiore, Florence, Vescovio and – of course – Rome.

Since the appointment of Dr David Skinner as Osborn Director of Music, the Chapel Choir at Sidney Sussex is rapidly becoming one of the finest mixed-voice ensembles in Cambridge. The choir is made up of six to eight sopranos, six to eight altos, six tenors, three baritones, and three basses, and sings the weekly chapel services.

During term time, the choir sings Choral Latin Vespers on Wednesdays and Choral Evensong on Fridays, at 6.45 p.m., followed by Formal Hall on each of those evenings. Choral Evensong at 6.15 p.m. on Sundays is followed by drinks in the Master’s Lodge and Formal Hall

The choir regularly performs at home and abroad and, more recently, has made a niche in making professional recordings for specialist markets, including museums, art galleries, and national libraries. The Choir toured California last year and is visiting Spain, Italy and Austria in 2010. The next tour in the US is planned for 2012.

The choir has three CDs to its name. Last year, the choir recorded the album A Christmas Carol on the Gift of Music label. This 69 minute album includes a selection of traditional Victorian Christmas carols sung by Sidney Sussex Choir with passages from Charles Dickens’s A Christmas Carol, read by a former Master of the college, Sir Gabriel Horn.

Earlier in the year, the choir also produced Ludwig Senfl: Missa Paschali, Motetten & Lieder, released by Obsidian Records. Ludwig Senfl (1486-1543) was a leading European composer during the Reformation and a favourite musician of Martin Luther. He was much travelled and for a time was employed by the Emperor Maximilian I. The recording features Senfl’s church and vernacular music, with the cornett and sackbut ensemble QuintEssential, and gothic harpist Andrew Lawrence-King. The recording was made in the cloistered monastery of St Emmeram in Bavarian town of Regensburg during the choir’s tour of Austria and Bavaria.

The album Thomas Tomkins: These Distracted Times was released in 2007 by Obsidian Records.

During the English Civil War of the 17th century, Thomas Tomkins was the greatest composer of his age.

He wrote a pavan for “these distracted times” shortly after the execution of King Charles I in 1649.

This recording provides a mixture of Tomkins’s church and chamber music that soothed troubled souls during these turbulent years.

The recording was made in the chapel of Sidney Sussex College, where Cromwell was a student and where it is said his severed head has been buried in the ante-chapel.

Whether or not Cromwell’s head is really buried here, his face illustrates the cover of this CD, and from his portrait he looks down on us benignly each day as we eat in the Hall.