Saint Titus and the massacre 120 years ago on 25 August 1898 that secured Crete’s unity with Greece

The Church of Saint Titus in Iraklion … 25 August is the feast of Saint Titus and gives its name to the main shopping street in Iraklion (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2017)

Patrick Comerford

Today is the feast of Saint Titus, the patron saint and first bishop of Crete. His feast is celebrated today [25 August] throughout the Orthodox Church. However, he was only added to the Calendar of the Western Church as late as 1854, when he was assigned to 6 February.

In 1969, the Roman Catholic Church moved his feast to 26 January so he could be linked with Saint Timothy and celebrated on the day after the feast of the Conversion of Saint Paul.

Saint Timothy and Saint Titus are named on 26 January in the calendars of many Anglican churches, including Common Worship in the Church of England, and the Episcopal Church, but not in the calendar of the Church of Ireland.

But 25 August remains the feast of Saint Titus in the Orthodox Church, and his head is the important relic in the Church of Saint Titus in Iraklion in Crete.

Saint Titus (Αγιος Τίτος) was a companion and disciple of the Apostle Paul and an early missionary. He is referred to in several of the Pauline epistles, including the Epistle to Titus, and brought a letter from Saint Paul to Corinth to collect for the poor in Jerusalem. He is believed to have been be a Greek from Antioch. Tradition says he was the first Bishop of Crete and appointed priests in every city in Crete.

The first church dedicated to Saint Titus was in the old capital Gortyn, until its destruction by earthquake and the Arab transfer of the capital of Crete from Gortyn to Chandax (Iraklion) in the year 828.

In 961, Nicephorus Phocas drove the Arabs from Crete, bringing the island back under Byzantine rule. The first Church of Saint Titus in Iraklion may have been built then, and the skull of Saint Titus, the miraculous icon of the Virgin Mesopanditissa and other sacred relics from Gortyn were moved to the new church.

The reliquary with the head of Saint Titus in the Church of Saint Titus in Iraklion (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2017)

When Iraklion was captured by the Turks in 1669, the Venetians removed all the relics from the church and took them to Venice.

Under Turkish rule, the Church of Saint Titus was taken over by Vizier Fazil Ahmet Kiopruli, who converted it into a mosque known as the Vezir Mosque.

A major earthquake devastated the city in 1856 and totally destroyed the mosque or former church. It was rebuilt as an Ottoman mosque in 1872 by the architect Athanasios Moussis, who also designed the Orthodox Cathedral of Saint Minas.

The minaret of Saint Titus was demolished in the 1920s, when the last Muslims left Iraklion with the ‘exchange of populations’ between Greece and Turkey under the terms of the Treaty of Lausanne.

Restoration work on the church began in 1925, and it was consecrated as the Church of Saint Titus in 1926. The relics of Saint Titus remain in Venice to this day, but his skull was returned to Iraklion in 1966 and is now kept in a silver reliquary in a side chapel in the church.

25 August Street is a pedestrianised street leading down to the harbour in Iraklion (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

The Church of Saint Titus is one of the most important buildings in the centre of Iraklion. It stands on one side of Aghios Titos Square, a pretty plaza close to small cafés and bars and that faces onto 25 August Street (Οδός 25ης Αυγούστου).

The street is the elegant, main shopping street in Iraklion, connecting the port of Iraklion with Lion Square. It takes its name from this day, the feast of Saint Titus, because of events 120 years ago today on 25 August 1898 in the conflicts leading to the end of Ottoman rule in Crete and the incorporation of the island into the modern Greek state.

This street, 25 August Street, runs from the Lion Fountain or Morosini Fountain at Platía Venizélou (Venizelos Square, also known as Lion Square), the central crossroads of the city, down to the Venetian harbour and the fortress of Koules.

The Morosini Fountain in Lion Square at the top of 25 August Street (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

The street may have been first laid out by the Arabs in the ninth or tenth century. Ever since, it has been the main street in Iraklion, linking the city centre with the harbour.

During the Venetian period, from the 13th to the 17th century, it was called the Ruga Maistra (Main Street). Here stood the palatial mansion of the Venetian Dukes or Governors of the island, and the Venetian buildings still lining the street include the Basilica of Saint Mark and the Loggia, all close to the Church of Saint Titus.

The former Venetian loggia on 25 August Street (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

In Ottoman times, the street was known as Vezir Tsarsi (Βεζίρ Τσαρσί, Vizier’s Market) after the Vezir Mosque.

The street’s modern name is taken from a clash during the Cretan struggle for independence 120 years ago on 25 August 1898. On 25 August, a Christian official who had been appointed to manage the customs office in Heraklion was being escorted by British troops along the street from the harbour when they were attacked by a mob of Turkish fanatics.

The Turkish mob went on a rampage through Iraklion. On this day in 1898, about 500 Christians and 17 British soldiers were killed, along with the British Honorary Consul, Lysimachos Kalokairinos, and houses and shops lining the street were set ablaze.

In the reprisals that followed, 17 Turkish Cretans suspected as being the ringleaders were hanged, and many more were jailed. The British navy sailed into the harbour and the city was cleared of Turkish troops.

Crete became a self-governing island, with its autonomy guaranteed by the European powers. Within 15 years, the Great Powers were forced to accept the Cretan demand for the union of Crete with Greece, which was finalised in 1913.

The former Venetian Basilica of Saint Mark on 25 August Street (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

In the early 20th century, after Crete had been incorporated into the modern Greek state, 25 August Street became the most fashionable street in Iraklion. New buildings on the street provided offices for the new Greek authorities and state bodies, transforming Iraklion into a modern city and enhancing the majestic vista from the port into the heart of the city.

However, that first impression given to visitors belied the reality of life in the side streets and alleyways off the street, and many local people named it the ‘Street of Illusion’ (Οδός Πλάνης).

Today, 25 August is a paved pedestrian street, lined with the most beautiful neoclassical buildings in Iraklion. Many of the neoclassical and Venetian buildings now house banks, travel agencies, tourist shops and cafés. But the Loggia has been restored and San Marco, which also became a mosque in the Ottoman era, is now an exhibition area.

Walking down the street towards the harbour on a summer day, you can feel the cool sea breeze blowing up from the harbour and the Mediterranean. The parallel side streets and squares off 25 August Street have enticing ouzeri and tavernas. And today the street will be packed with people at procession and festivities celebrating the feast of Saint Titus.

Inside the Church of Saint Titus in Iraklion (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2017)

This is an edited version of a blog posting first posted on 25 August 2017.

Saint Mary Magdalene: a call for all to ‘reflect more deeply on the dignity of women’

Mary Magdalene at Easter … a sculpture by Mary Grant at the west door of Lichfield Cathedral (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2018)

Patrick Comerford

Sunday, 22 July 2018,

Saint Mary Magdalene (Trinity VIII)

9.30 a.m.: Morning Prayer, Castletown Church, Kilcornan, Co Limerick.

11.30 a.m.: The Parish Eucharist (Holy Communion 2), Holy Trinity Church, Rathkeale, Co Limerick.

Readings: Song of Solomon 3: 1-4; Psalm 42: 1-10; II Corinthians 5: 17-22; John 20: 1-2, 11-18.

May I speak to you in the name of God, + Father, Son and Holy Spirit, Amen.

There is a new biblical drama film, Mary Magdalene, released earlier this year [2018]. The script is by Helen Edmundson and Philippa Goslett, the film is directed by Garth Davis, with Rooney Mara as Mary Magdalene and Joaquin Phoenix as Jesus Christ.

The film had its world premiere in the National Gallery, London, on 26 February 2018, was screened at the Audi Dublin International Film Festival two days later, and went on general release in March.

In a review in the Guardian [27 February 2018], Peter Bradshaw said the movie ‘sets itself a bold task: to rescue Mary Magdalene from an age-old tradition of patriarchal condescension and misinterpretation. And yet it winds up embracing a solemn, softly-spoken and slow-moving Christian piety of its own.’

Of course, Saint Mary Magdalene is an intimate witness to some of the most important events in the life of Christ, including his Crucifixion, burial and Resurrection. But she has been wrongly recast in popular tradition as a ‘fallen woman’ and a ‘prostitute.’

Saint Mary Magdalene is mentioned by name 12 times in the canonical gospels, more than most of the apostles. Her epithet Magdalene (ἡ Μαγδαληνή) probably means she was from Magdala, a fishing town on the western shore of the Sea of Galilee.

Saint Luke (Luke 8: 2-3) lists Mary Magdalene as one of the women who travelled with Jesus and helped support his ministry ‘out of their resources,’ indicating she was probably quite wealthy. The same passage also states that seven demons had been driven out of her, a statement which is repeated in the longer ending of Saint Mark’s Gospel.

In all four gospels, she is a witness to the crucifixion of Christ, in the three Synoptic Gospels she is also present at his burial, and all four gospels identify her, either alone or as a member of a larger group of women, as the first witness to the empty tomb, and the first person to testify to the Resurrection. For these reasons, she is often referred to as the ‘apostle to the apostles.’

Mary Magdalene and the women who arrive at the tomb on Easter morning, ‘the first day of the week,’ are known in the Eastern Orthodox tradition as the Holy Myrrh-bearers (Μυροφόροι).

Mary and these women run to tell Saint Peter and the other disciple – presumably Saint John the Evangelist – that they suspect someone has removed Christ’s body. The ‘other disciple’ may have been younger and fitter, for he outruns Saint Peter. The tidy way the linen wrappings and the shroud have been folded or rolled up shows that the body has not been stolen. They believe, yet they do not understand; they return home without any explanations.

But Mary still thinks Christ’s body has been removed or stolen, and she returns to the grave. In her grief, she sees ‘two angels in white’ sitting where the body had been lying, one at the head, and one at the feet. They speak to her and then she turns around sees Christ, but only recognises him when he calls her by name.

Saint Peter and Saint John have returned without seeing the Risen Lord. It is left to Mary to tell the Disciples that she has seen the Lord. Mary Magdalene is the first witness of the Resurrection. In Saint John’s Gospel, the Risen Christ sends Mary Magdalene to tell the other disciples what she had seen. Mary becomes the apostle to the apostles.

The word apostle comes from the Greek ἀπόστολος (apóstólos), formed from the prefix ἀπό- (apó-, ‘from’) and the root στέλλω (stéllō, ‘I send,’ ‘I depart’). So, the Greek word ἀπόστολος (apóstolos) or apostle means one sent.

In addition, at the end of this morning’s reading (verse 18), Mary comes announcing what she has seen. The word used here (ἀγγέλλουσα, angéllousa) is from the word that gives us the Annunciation, the proclamation of the good news, the proclamation of the Gospel (Εὐαγγέλιον, Evangélion).

Mary, in her proclamation of the Gospel of the Resurrection, is not only the apostle to the apostles, but she is also the first of the evangelists.

I have often heard opponents of women’s ordination arguing in words like ‘Christ only chose men for his 12 apostles.’ But that was before the Resurrection. After the Resurrection, an apostle is one who is chosen and sent with the message of the Resurrection. That is Saint Paul’s claim to call himself an apostle (see I Corinthians 9: 1-2). That is what makes Saint Mary Magdalene the first apostle in the post-resurrection era.

A relic of Saint Mary Magdalene’s left hand is said to be preserved in the monastery of Simonopetra on Mount Athos (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2018)

According to Greek tradition, she evangelised the island of Zakynthos in 34 AD on her way to Rome with Saint Mary of Cleopas. The village of Maries on the island is said to be named after these two women.

A relic of her left hand is said to be preserved in the monastery of Simonopetra on Mount Athos, where she is revered as a co-founder of the monastery in a place that is otherwise an all-male enclave.

An early sermon by Hippolytus of Rome (ca 170-235) refers to Mary Magdalene as a ‘second Eve’ who, through her obedience, compensates for the disobedience of the first Eve. He also explicitly identifies Mary Magdalene and the other women as ‘apostles.’

Saint Gregory of Nyssa (ca 330-395) identifies Mary Magdalene as ‘the first witness to the resurrection.’

Elaborate mediaeval legends in western Europe tell exaggerated tales of her wealth and beauty, as well as her alleged journey to southern France.

In the Middle Ages, she was seen as an erudite, educated and wise woman, giving her name, for example to Magdalene College, Cambridge, and to Magdalen College, Oxford.

Magdalene College, Cambridge, where Archbishop Rowan Williams is the Master, was founded in 1482 as a Cambridge hostel for Benedictine student-monks. It was refounded by Lord Audley in 1542 and dedicated to Saint Mary Magdalene. That choice of name may have been tinged with a touch of vanity, for the pronunciation of its name as ‘Maudleyn’ contains within it the name of Audley.

Magdalen College, Oxford, was founded earlier in 1458 and would later become the college of Oscar Wilde, John Betjeman, CS Lewis and Seamus Heaney.

But sometime in the Middle Ages, Mary Magdalene was conflated in western tradition with the unnamed ‘sinful woman’ who anoints Christ’s feet earlier in Saint Luke’s Gospel (see Luke 7: 36-50). This gives rise to the widespread but inaccurate belief that she was a repentant prostitute or a promiscuous woman.

This caricature of Mary Magdalene probably reached its low point in the musical Jesus Christ Superstarwith Mary’s song ‘I Don’t Know How to Love Him,’ with its startling lines:

He’s a man, he’s just a man,
and I’ve had so many men before,
in very many ways …

Recently [10 June 2016], Pope Francis recognised Saint Mary Magdalene and her role as the first to witness the resurrection and as a ‘true and authentic evangeliser’ when he raised her commemoration today from a memorial to a feast in the church’s liturgical calendar.

The Vatican’s Congregation for Divine Worship formalised the decision in a decree called Apostolorum Apostola (‘Apostle of the Apostles’).

Archbishop Arthur Roche said Saint Mary Magdalene’s feast day is a call for all Christians to ‘reflect more deeply on the dignity of women, the new evangelisation and the greatness of the mystery of divine mercy.’

He said that in giving Saint Mary Magdalene the honour of being the first person to see the empty tomb and the first to listen to the truth of the resurrection, Christ ‘has a special consideration and mercy for this woman, who manifests her love for him, looking for him in the garden with anguish and suffering.’

This means Saint Mary Magdalene has the same type of feast as any of the apostles and makes her a ‘model for every woman in the church.’

As we think about Saint Mary Magdalene this Sunday, and the way she has been maligned and traduced in the past, we may wonder why. Why was she forgotten so long as the apostle of the apostles and the ‘model for every woman in the church’?

Why did we give her name to the ‘Magdalene Laundries’ in Ireland that demeaned and belittled innocent women, depriving them of love, education, dignity and basic human rights?

Indeed, Saint Mary Magdalene, in the way she has been maligned over the centuries, represents so many women whose beauty, truth and witness have been denied by the Church for oh so long.

We must never do this again, not only to women, but to any group in the church, because of gender, sexuality, age, ethnicity, culture or the other excuses that lead to discrimination, oppression and exclusion. For every time we do this, we are in danger of denying the Resurrection and of denying the Risen Christ himself.

And so, may all we think, say and do be to the praise, honour and glory of God, + Father, Son and Holy Spirit, Amen.

A modern icon of Aghia Magdalini or Saint Mary Magdalene by Alexandra Kaouki in her workshop in Rethymnon (Photograph © Alexandra Kaouki, 2017)

John 20: 1-2, 11-18 (NRSV):

1 Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the tomb. 2 So she ran and went to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one whom Jesus loved, and said to them, ‘They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him.’

11 But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb; 12 and she saw two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had been lying, one at the head and the other at the feet. 13 They said to her, ‘Woman, why are you weeping?’ She said to them, ‘They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.’ 14 When she had said this, she turned round and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not know that it was Jesus. 15 Jesus said to her, ‘Woman, why are you weeping? For whom are you looking?’ Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, ‘Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.’ 16 Jesus said to her, ‘Mary!’ She turned and said to him in Hebrew, ‘Rabbouni!’ (which means Teacher). 17 Jesus said to her, ‘Do not hold on to me, because I have not yet ascended to the Father. But go to my brothers and say to them, “I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God”.’ 18 Mary Magdalene went and announced to the disciples, ‘I have seen the Lord’; and she told them that he had said these things to her.

The Second Court in Magdalene College, Cambridge … founded in 1482 and refounded in 1542 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Liturgical colour: White

Collect:

Almighty God,
whose Son restored Mary Magdalene
to health of mind and body
and called her to be a witness to his resurrection:
Forgive our sins and heal us by your grace,
that we may serve you in the power of his risen life;
who is alive and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.

Penitential Kyries:

Lord, you are gracious and compassionate.
Lord, have mercy.
Lord, have mercy.

You are loving to all.
and your mercy is over all creation. Christ, have mercy.
Christ, have mercy.

Your faithful servants bless your name,
and speak of the glory of your kingdom.
Lord, have mercy.
Lord, have mercy.

Introduction to the Peace:

We are fellow-citizens with the saints,
and of the household of God,
through Christ our Lord,
who came and preached to those who were far off
and those who were near. (Ephesians 2: 19, 17)

Blessing:

God give you the grace
to share in the inheritance of Saint Mary Magdalene and of his saints in glory:

Saint Mary Magdalene depicted as one of the myrrh-bearers above the entrance to Magdalen College, Oxford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Hymns:

288, Thine be the glory, risen, conquering Son;

606, As the dear pants for the water;

592, O Love that wilt not let me go.

Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of Churches of Christ in the USA, and are used by permission. All rights reserved.

Μη μου άπτου, ‘Noli me Tangere,’ an icon by Mikhail Damaskinos in the Museum of Christian Art in the former Church of Saint Catherine of Sinai in Iraklion (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

‘By the power of the Spirit … draw everyone to the fire of your love’

The pastel colours of a side-street in Collioure … languages can shape how we see the world and how we see others (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2018)

Patrick Comerford

Sunday 20 June 2018,

The Day of Pentecost, or Whit Sunday.

Readings: Acts 2: 1-21; Psalm 104: 26-36, 37b; Romans 8: 22-27; John 15: 26-27, 16: 4b-15.

11.30 a.m., The Parish Eucharist, Saint Brendan’s Church, Kilnaughtin (Tarbert), Co Kerry.

May I speak to you in the name of God, + Father, Son and Holy Spirit, Amen.

I have just had a fresh experience, culturally and linguistically, over the past few days.

I have been to France before, visiting Paris at least half a dozen times. But last week, for the first time ever, I spent a few days in the south of France, thanks to the welcome and the hospitality of a friend who moved there from Dublin many years ago.

I have known what to expect in Paris. But I went without any expectations of what to see, taste or experience in the south of France.

We visited old castles and cathedrals, vineyards and galleries, walked by river banks and marinas, and spent some time strolling around the harbour, beaches and castle at Collioure, with its pastel-coloured houses and streets, which provided so much inspiration for artists a century ago, including André Derain, Henri Matisse and Pablo Picasso.

First impressions can never be repeated, but my first impressions of the South of France include the clear translucent light that must have inspired artists like Matisse and Picasso, and the very clear fact that I was in a bilingual part of France. Everywhere signs are in both French and Catalan – road signs, place names, directions, menus, advertising, notices at historical sites such as castles and cathedrals.

French is not one of my languages, but in Perpignan, Collioure and throughout Roussillon I was bilingual in my linguistic short-fallings, able to understand many of the signs and the questions in shops and in restaurants, but unable to respond in either French or Catalan.

Of course, I enjoy languages, and can find myself sitting back and enjoying listening to other people in conversation. But so often, by the time I have translated what I want to say and try to utter those translated thoughts, the conversation has moved on quite naturally to another subject or topic.

I am a slow learner when it comes to languages, but it still does not take away from the pleasure and enjoyment I get from being immersed in another language.

Learning another language can open our eyes to fresh insights and new aspects of the world around us.

Sometimes, it can be like the experiences of those artists a century ago in Collioure, seeing everything in a new light, and finding that experience is like an awakening by the Holy Spirit.

French has at least two words for the colour blue, bleu and azure, while Greek has at least four: κυάνεος (kyáneos) or dark blue, which became cyan in English; γλαυκός (glafkós) for light blue; θαλασσί (thalassí) for ocean or sea blue; and μπλε (ble), which is a loan word from French.

Ever since I learned to distinguish those words in Greek, my eyes have come to see not just four hues of blue, but four different colours of blue.

We use the words please, thanks and pleasure differently in different languages.

A sea of blue by the beach in Platanes near Rethymnon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2017)

The languages we speak can shape the way we think, and they can offer bright new aspects of and insights into life.

This is true too in theology and how we express our faith, our values, our beliefs.

In the New Testament, Saint Paul uses four different words for love.

Quite often, the divisions and theological quarrels in the Early Church were not about essential beliefs, but about problems in translation. They argued about words that seemed to distinguish between God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Spirit being of the same or similar substance or nature, and so on.

Today, too often, we base theological assertions that are founded on Biblical sayings, not on the words and phrases themselves in their original Biblical Hebrew or Greek, but on a translation that has been produced by a committee. And accepting that translation puts a lot of trust – too much trust – in the translators.

There is a saying in many languages that the translator is a traitor. The Italian phrase is Traduttore, traditore. When we try to translate any text, whether it is the Bible or any other book, we already display our own presumptions and even prejudices by the words we give preference to.

Anyone who has tried knows how difficult it is to translate poetry, and how it is impossible to translate a joke.

Languages are a gift from God that offer us new insights into creation, into the world, into other people.

The story of Babel (Genesis 11: 1-11) tells us that languages divided us in the world, set us apart from each other, were an expression of disunity and conflict in humanity.

But that was then, and Pentecost is now. Pentecost is the undoing of Babel. Now we can appreciation that each culture, each society, each people, each individual, can have a fresh insight into God, through the Holy Spirit, who leads us through the love God the Son, to the majesty of God the Father.

Instead of languages being a barrier, the disciples find in our first New Testament reading this morning (Acts 2: 1-21) that the good news is not reserved to one linguistic group or culture, but can have fresh meaning for Parthians, Medes, Elamites, and residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and parts of Libya, visitors from Rome, Cretans and Arabs – each in their own languages.

And that is equally true of every other culture, people, nation, generation and society.

The very people who were once counted out as ethnic or linguistic minorities, the religious curiosities and the perceived oddities, those who dress, and appear, and sound and look different, whose foods and perfume and bodily odours are marked by variety, are told today, on the Day of Pentecost, that you are counted in as God’s own people.

Pentecost is the undoing of Babel. The barriers we built in the past, the walls we use to separate ourselves from each other, particularly in our use of language to exclude rather than include, are torn apart by the Holy Spirit who rushes in and breaks down all the walls that separate us from those we think are different because of how they sound, look and smell.

Pentecost celebrates the over-abundant generosity of God. This generosity is beyond measure, to the point that it challenges us, surprises us, startles us.

So often we want to box-in, contain or marginalise the Holy Spirit by our use of language.

And, indeed, there are more languages than our verbal, spoken and written languages.

We have different body languages: how we look at each other, how we shrug our shoulders, how we point and gesture, are all as unique as spoken languages, but much more difficult to translate, and help to keep those we see as the outsider on the margins.

We have different liturgical languages. We are very good as Anglicans – and I saw it at General Synod in Armagh less than two weeks ago – of counting people ‘in’ or ‘out’ because we are too evangelical or too Anglo-Catholic, too low or too high, too liberal or too conservative, and so on.

We still use language like that to paint people into corners that are often not of their own making.

This morning’s account of the first Day of Pentecost is a sharp reminder that Pentecost is for all. The Holy Spirit is not an exclusive gift for the 12, for the inner circle, for the believers, or even for the Church. The promises that God will pour out his Spirit on all (verse 17) is a promise for all without regard to gender, age or social background (verses 17-21), is a promise of God’s salvation is for everyone (verse 21).

The gift of the Holy Spirit does not stop being effective the day after this Day of Pentecost.

God never leaves us alone. This is what Christ promises the disciples, the whole Church, in the Gospel reading, as he breaks through the locked doors and breaks through all their fears (John 20: 19-23).

We need have no fears, for the Resurrection breaks through all the barriers of time and space, of gender and race, of language and colour.

Pentecost includes all – even those we do not hear or understand. It is just simply that I have not yet learned to hear or understand them. But the gift of the Holy Spirit encourages me to hear them with a new sound and to see them in a new light.

And so, may all we think, say and do, be to the praise, honour and glory of God, + Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.

This sermon was prepared for the Day of Pentecost, 20 May 2018

Seeing the world in a new light … the colours of Collioure inspired Matisse, Picasso and other artists a century ago (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Acts 2: 1-21:

1 When the day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place. 2 And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. 3 Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. 4 All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability. 5 Now there were devout Jews from every nation under heaven living in Jerusalem. 6 And at this sound the crowd gathered and was bewildered, because each one heard them speaking in the native language of each. 7 Amazed and astonished, they asked, “Are not all these who are speaking Galileans? 8 And how is it that we hear, each of us, in our own native language? 9 Parthians, Medes, Elamites, and residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, 10 Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya belonging to Cyrene, and visitors from Rome, both Jews and proselytes, 11 Cretans and Arabs – in our own languages we hear them speaking about God’s deeds of power.” 12 All were amazed and perplexed, saying to one another, “What does this mean?” 13 But others sneered and said, “They are filled with new wine.”

14 But Peter, standing with the eleven, raised his voice and addressed them, “Men of Judea and all who live in Jerusalem, let this be known to you, and listen to what I say. 15 Indeed, these are not drunk, as you suppose, for it is only nine o’clock in the morning. 16 No, this is what was spoken through the prophet Joel:

17 ‘In the last days it will be, God declares,
that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh,
and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy,
and your young men shall see visions,
and your old men shall dream dreams.
18 Even upon my slaves, both men and women,
in those days I will pour out my Spirit;
and they shall prophesy.
19 And I will show portents in the heaven above
and signs on the earth below,
blood, and fire, and smoky mist.
20 The sun shall be turned to darkness
and the moon to blood,
before the coming of the Lord’s great and glorious day.
21 Then everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved.’

‘Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them’ (Acts 2: 3) … Pentecost by El Greco (Doménikos Theotokópoulos)

Liturgical colour: Red

Greeting (from Easter until Pentecost):

Christ is risen!
The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia!

Penitential Kyries:

Great and wonderful are your deeds,
Lord God the Almighty

Lord, have mercy.
Lord, have mercy.

You are the King of glory, O Christ.

Christ, have mercy.
Christ, have mercy.

Come Holy Ghost, our souls inspire.

Lord, have mercy.
Lord, have mercy.

The Collect of the Day:

Almighty God,
who on the day of Pentecost
sent your Holy Spirit to the apostles
with the wind from heaven and in tongues of flame,
filling them with joy and boldness to preach the gospel:
By the power of the same Spirit
strengthen us to witness to your truth
and to draw everyone to the fire of your love;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Introduction to the Peace:

The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace.
If we live in the Spirit, let us walk in the Spirit.
Galatians 5: 22

Preface:

Through Jesus Christ our Lord,
according to whose promise
the Holy Spirit came to dwell in us,
making us your children,
and giving us power to proclaim the gospel throughout the world:

Post Communion Prayer:

Faithful God,
who fulfilled the promises of Easter
by sending us your Holy Spirit
and opening to every race and nation the way of life eternal:
Open our lips by your Spirit,
that every tongue may tell of your glory;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Blessing:

The Spirit of truth lead you into all truth,
give you grace to confess that Jesus Christ is Lord,
and to proclaim the words and works of God …

Dismissal:

Go in the peace of the Risen Christ. Alleluia! Alleluia!
Thanks be to God. Alleluia! Alleluia!

Hymns:

386, Spirit of God, unseen as the wind

294, Come down, O Love divine

293, Breathe on me, breath of God

Evie Hone’s window in Saint Patrick’s Church on the Hill of Tara, Co Meath, has images of Pentecost interspersed with images of Saint Patrick (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of Churches of Christ in the USA, and are used by permission. All rights reserved.

‘All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages’

Seeing the world in a new light … the colours of Collioure inspired Matisse, Picasso and other artists a century ago (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Patrick Comerford

Sunday 20 June 2018,

The Day of Pentecost, or Whit Sunday.

Readings: Acts 2: 1-21; Psalm 104: 26-36, 37b; Romans 8: 22-27; John 15: 26-27, 16: 4b-15.

9.30 a.m., The Parish Eucharist, Saint Mary’s Church, Askeaton, Co Limerick.

May I speak to you in the name of God, + Father, Son and Holy Spirit, Amen.

I have just had a fresh experience, culturally and linguistically, over the past few days.

I have been to France before, visiting Paris at least half a dozen times. But last week, for the first time ever, I spent a few days in the south of France, thanks to the welcome and the hospitality of a friend who moved there from Dublin many years ago.

I have known what to expect in Paris. But I went without any expectations of what to see, taste or experience in the south of France.

We visited old castles and cathedrals, vineyards and galleries, walked by river banks and marinas, and spent some time strolling around the harbour, beaches and castle at Collioure, with its pastel-coloured houses and streets, which provided so much inspiration for artists a century ago, including André Derain, Henri Matisse and Pablo Picasso.

First impressions can never be repeated, but my first impressions of the South of France include the clear translucent light that must have inspired artists like Matisse and Picasso, and the very clear fact that I was in a bilingual part of France. Everywhere signs are in both French and Catalan – road signs, place names, directions, menus, advertising, notices at historical sites such as castles and cathedrals.

French is not one of my languages, but in Perpignan, Collioure and throughout Roussillon I was bilingual in my linguistic short-fallings, able to understand many of the signs and the questions in shops and in restaurants, but unable to respond in either French or Catalan.

Of course, I enjoy languages, and can find myself sitting back and enjoying listening to other people in conversation. But so often, by the time I have translated what I want to say and try to utter those translated thoughts, the conversation has moved on quite naturally to another subject or topic.

I am a slow learner when it comes to languages, but it still does not take away from the pleasure and enjoyment I get from being immersed in another language.

Learning another language can open our eyes to fresh insights and new aspects of the world around us.

Sometimes, it can be like the experiences of those artists a century ago in Collioure, seeing everything in a new light, and finding that experience is like an awakening by the Holy Spirit.

French has at least two words for the colour blue, bleu and azure, while Greek has at least four: κυάνεος (kyáneos) or dark blue, which became cyan in English; γλαυκός (glafkós) for light blue; θαλασσί (thalassí) for ocean or sea blue; and μπλε (ble), which is a loan word from French.

Ever since I learned to distinguish those words in Greek, my eyes have come to see not just four hues of blue, but four different colours of blue.

We use the words please, thanks and pleasure differently in different languages.

A sea of blue by the beach in Platanes near Rethymnon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2017)

The languages we speak can shape the way we think, and they can offer bright new aspects of and insights into life.

This is true too in theology and how we express our faith, our values, our beliefs.

In the New Testament, Saint Paul uses four different words for love.

Quite often, the divisions and theological quarrels in the Early Church were not about essential beliefs, but about problems in translation. They argued about words that seemed to distinguish between God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Spirit being of the same or similar substance or nature, and so on.

Today, too often, we base theological assertions that are founded on Biblical sayings, not on the words and phrases themselves in their original Biblical Hebrew or Greek, but on a translation that has been produced by a committee. And accepting that translation puts a lot of trust – too much trust – in the translators.

There is a saying in many languages that the translator is a traitor. The Italian phrase is Traduttore, traditore. When we try to translate any text, whether it is the Bible or any other book, we already display our own presumptions and even prejudices by the words we give preference to.

Anyone who has tried knows how difficult it is to translate poetry, and how it is impossible to translate a joke.

Languages are a gift from God that offer us new insights into creation, into the world, into other people.

The story of Babel (Genesis 11: 1-11) tells us that languages divided us in the world, set us apart from each other, were an expression of disunity and conflict in humanity.

But that was then, and Pentecost is now. Pentecost is the undoing of Babel. Now we can appreciation that each culture, each society, each people, each individual, can have a fresh insight into God, through the Holy Spirit, who leads us through the love God the Son, to the majesty of God the Father.

Instead of languages being a barrier, the disciples find in our first New Testament reading this morning (Acts 2: 1-21) that the good news is not reserved to one linguistic group or culture, but can have fresh meaning for Parthians, Medes, Elamites, and residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and parts of Libya, visitors from Rome, Cretans and Arabs – each in their own languages.

And that is equally true of every other culture, people, nation, generation and society.

The very people who were once counted out as ethnic or linguistic minorities, the religious curiosities and the perceived oddities, those who dress, and appear, and sound and look different, whose foods and perfume and bodily odours are marked by variety, are told today, on the Day of Pentecost, that you are counted in as God’s own people.

Pentecost is the undoing of Babel. The barriers we built in the past, the walls we use to separate ourselves from each other, particularly in our use of language to exclude rather than include, are torn apart by the Holy Spirit who rushes in and breaks down all the walls that separate us from those we think are different because of how they sound, look and smell.

Pentecost celebrates the over-abundant generosity of God. This generosity is beyond measure, to the point that it challenges us, surprises us, startles us.

So often we want to box-in, contain or marginalise the Holy Spirit by our use of language.

And, indeed, there are more languages than our verbal, spoken and written languages.

We have different body languages: how we look at each other, how we shrug our shoulders, how we point and gesture, are all as unique as spoken languages, but much more difficult to translate, and help to keep those we see as the outsider on the margins.

We have different liturgical languages. We are very good as Anglicans – and I saw it at General Synod in Armagh less than two weeks ago – of counting people ‘in’ or ‘out’ because we are too evangelical or too Anglo-Catholic, too low or too high, too liberal or too conservative, and so on.

We still use language like that to paint people into corners that are often not of their own making.

This morning’s account of the first Day of Pentecost is a sharp reminder that Pentecost is for all. The Holy Spirit is not an exclusive gift for the 12, for the inner circle, for the believers, or even for the Church. The promises that God will pour out his Spirit on all (verse 17) is a promise for all without regard to gender, age or social background (verses 17-21), is a promise of God’s salvation is for everyone (verse 21).

The gift of the Holy Spirit does not stop being effective the day after this Day of Pentecost.

God never leaves us alone. This is what Christ promises the disciples, the whole Church, in the Gospel reading, as he breaks through the locked doors and breaks through all their fears (John 20: 19-23).

We need have no fears, for the Resurrection breaks through all the barriers of time and space, of gender and race, of language and colour.

Pentecost includes all – even those we do not hear or understand. It is just simply that I have not yet learned to hear or understand them. But the gift of the Holy Spirit encourages me to hear them with a new sound and to see them in a new light.

And so, may all we think, say and do, be to the praise, honour and glory of God, + Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.

This sermon was prepared for the Day of Pentecost, 20 May 2018

The pastel colours of a side-street in Collioure … languages can shape how we see the world and how we see others (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2018)

Acts 2: 1-21:

1 When the day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place. 2 And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. 3 Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. 4 All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability. 5 Now there were devout Jews from every nation under heaven living in Jerusalem. 6 And at this sound the crowd gathered and was bewildered, because each one heard them speaking in the native language of each. 7 Amazed and astonished, they asked, “Are not all these who are speaking Galileans? 8 And how is it that we hear, each of us, in our own native language? 9 Parthians, Medes, Elamites, and residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, 10 Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya belonging to Cyrene, and visitors from Rome, both Jews and proselytes, 11 Cretans and Arabs – in our own languages we hear them speaking about God’s deeds of power.” 12 All were amazed and perplexed, saying to one another, “What does this mean?” 13 But others sneered and said, “They are filled with new wine.”

14 But Peter, standing with the eleven, raised his voice and addressed them, “Men of Judea and all who live in Jerusalem, let this be known to you, and listen to what I say. 15 Indeed, these are not drunk, as you suppose, for it is only nine o’clock in the morning. 16 No, this is what was spoken through the prophet Joel:

17 ‘In the last days it will be, God declares,
that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh,
and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy,
and your young men shall see visions,
and your old men shall dream dreams.
18 Even upon my slaves, both men and women,
in those days I will pour out my Spirit;
and they shall prophesy.
19 And I will show portents in the heaven above
and signs on the earth below,
blood, and fire, and smoky mist.
20 The sun shall be turned to darkness
and the moon to blood,
before the coming of the Lord’s great and glorious day.
21 Then everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved.’

‘Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them’ (Acts 2: 3) … Pentecost by El Greco (Doménikos Theotokópoulos)

Liturgical colour: Red

Greeting (from Easter until Pentecost):

Christ is risen!
The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia!

Penitential Kyries:

Great and wonderful are your deeds,
Lord God the Almighty

Lord, have mercy.
Lord, have mercy.

You are the King of glory, O Christ.

Christ, have mercy.
Christ, have mercy.

Come Holy Ghost, our souls inspire.

Lord, have mercy.
Lord, have mercy.

The Collect of the Day:

Almighty God,
who on the day of Pentecost
sent your Holy Spirit to the apostles
with the wind from heaven and in tongues of flame,
filling them with joy and boldness to preach the gospel:
By the power of the same Spirit
strengthen us to witness to your truth
and to draw everyone to the fire of your love;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Introduction to the Peace:

The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace.
If we live in the Spirit, let us walk in the Spirit.
Galatians 5: 22

Preface:

Through Jesus Christ our Lord,
according to whose promise
the Holy Spirit came to dwell in us,
making us your children,
and giving us power to proclaim the gospel throughout the world:

Post Communion Prayer:

Faithful God,
who fulfilled the promises of Easter
by sending us your Holy Spirit
and opening to every race and nation the way of life eternal:
Open our lips by your Spirit,
that every tongue may tell of your glory;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Blessing:

The Spirit of truth lead you into all truth,
give you grace to confess that Jesus Christ is Lord,
and to proclaim the words and works of God …

Dismissal:

Go in the peace of the Risen Christ. Alleluia! Alleluia!
Thanks be to God. Alleluia! Alleluia!

Hymns:

386, Spirit of God, unseen as the wind

294, Come down, O Love divine

293, Breathe on me, breath of God

Evie Hone’s window in Saint Patrick’s Church on the Hill of Tara, Co Meath, has images of Pentecost interspersed with images of Saint Patrick (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of Churches of Christ in the USA, and are used by permission. All rights reserved.

Facing the end of the journey and ridding ourselves of illusions along the way

‘Life is a journey that must be travelled no matter how bad the roads and accommodations’ … the statue of Oliver Goldsmith outside Trinity College Dublin (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Patrick Comerford

Sunday, 25 March 2018.

Palm Sunday, the Sixth Sunday in Lent

11.30 a.m., The Parish Eucharist (Holy Communion 2), Holy Trinity Church, Rathkeale, Co Limerick.

Readings: Isaiah 50: 4-9a; Psalm 118: 1-2, 19-29; Philippians 2: 5-11; Mark 11: 1-11.

May I speak to you in the name of God, + Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.

Do you remember being packed into the back of the car as children, and all the fights that went on in the back of the car?

Getting upset because someone else was pushing over into your space?

Getting stuck in the middle and not being able to see anything?

Two weeks ago, around Saint Patrick’s Weekend, a friend sent me a cartoon showing Saint Patrick, dressed up in his mitre and green robes, sitting at the wheel of a car, with the back seat full of snakes.

It is supposed to be ‘Saint Patrick driving the snakes out of Ireland.’ And all the child-snakes crammed into the backseat are crying out: ‘Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?’

What are your favourite journeys in life?

I can close my eyes and as a child see myself on the road out from Cappoquin to my grandmother’s house. I know every hedge and ditch, every bend on the road, and I can name who lives in each and every house along the way.

Or in my mind’s eye I can travel along the banks of the Slaney from below Bunclody down to Wexford, and out into Wexford Harbour at Ferrycarrig.

Now, as an adult, I never fail to be enthralled by the bus journey along the north coast of Crete, from Iraklion to Rethymnon, especially in the evening, when rays of light are sparkling and glistening on the deep blue sea and the sun is setting behind the old Venetian Fortezza.

Watching the sunset behind the Venetian Fortezza in Rethymnon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Psychologically, for many of us, when we call to mind sweet memories of journeys like these, they represent the way in which we think of life as a journey. They don’t all start in the same way, there are bumps and bounces and pitstops along the way, but the journeys we travel on and the journey of life are worth it all in themselves.

Life is a journey. As the Irish writer Oliver Goldsmith once said, ‘Life is a journey that must be travelled no matter how bad the roads and accommodations.’

And, along the way, we try to make that journey as good an experience as possible.

We have been with Christ on a journey to Jerusalem throughout these weeks in Lent. This morning, on Palm Sunday, we have arrived with him in Jerusalem.

Along the way, there have been many eventful happenings. During these Sundays in Lent, we have followed Christ from his Baptism in the Jordan out into wilderness, and then back to Galilee, where he begins to proclaim the Kingdom (Mark 1: 9-15, Lent I).

We heard how the disciples became confused about what sort of Messiah he was going to be, and how he told them to take up their crosses and follow him (Mark 8: 31-38, Lent II).

We saw him clear the traders and the money changers from the Temple, where they were a barrier to the free access of people to worship God, all people, regardless of their background, race, religion, language or social status (John 2: 13-22, Lent III).

We then joined Nicodemus as he came to visit Jesus in the night, under cover of darkness, and heard him foretell how he was going to be lifted up on the cross as a sign of God’s promise of eternal life, and declare how ‘God so loved the world that he gave his only Son’ (John 3: 14-21, Lent IV).

And then, last Sunday, we heard how some people, because they were Gentiles, Greek-speakers, still felt they were excluded from access to Jesus, and so excluded from access to the love of God (John 12: 20-33, Lent V).

The journey from Galilee to Jerusalem has been a journey from darkness towards light, but a journey that has not been an easy one for the Disciples.

Along the way, though, they have seen what temptation is like.

They have been challenged too to take up their cross and to follow Jesus.

They have seen the tables being turned when access to God is blocked by those who seek to make money through the exploitation of the poor.

It has been a journey from darkness into light. A journey that challenges us to accept the love of God and to be open to the love of others.

At times, the Disciples must have felt like children squeezed into the back seat of the family car as others decided to join in on the journey, crowding into their space along the way, as with the Greek-speaking Gentiles who had to go to Philip and Andrew to get to see Jesus.

But the journey is important. And, while they are challenged by their illusions along the way, they get there.

In his poem Ithaka, the Greek poet Constantine Cavafy writes about Odysseus returning from the Trojan Wars to his home on the island of Ithaka.

Cavafy tells Odysseus that arriving in Ithaka is what he is destined for, and that he must keep that always in mind: one’s destiny, the inevitable end of the journey, is a thing to be faced for what it is, without illusions:

Keep Ithaka always in your mind.
Arriving there is what you are destined for.
But do not hurry the journey at all.
Better if it lasts for years,
so you are old by the time you reach the island,
wealthy with all you have gained on the way,
not expecting Ithaka to make you rich.

Ithaka gave you the marvellous journey.
Without her you would not have set out.
She has nothing left to give you now.

And if you find her poor, Ithaka won’t have fooled you.
Wise as you will have become, so full of experience,
you will have understood by then what these Ithakas mean.

Yes, along the way, the Disciples have had to shed some of their illusions … about others, about themselves, about what Christ is calling them to.

Now they have arrived in Jerusalem, with all those experiences behind them, they find that the people in the city still share all the illusions they think they have shed.

The people still think that if Jesus is the Messiah, then he arrives in Jerusalem as the conquering hero.

They spread their cloaks on the road before him, they lop off leafy branches to wave at him and to decorate the way. And they sing out:

‘Hosanna!
Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!
Blessed is the coming kingdom of our ancestor David!
Hosanna in the highest heaven!’ (Mark 11: 9-10).

But this welcome, this understanding of what the mission of Jesus is about, was never the purpose of the journey.

Christ chooses the way he enters Jerusalem on Palm Sunday. But he abandons all choice about how he is going to be taken outside the city to die a few days later. And Christ, who receives a lively welcome into the city on Palm Sunday, is taken outside the city and crucified on Good Friday.

● Christ upsets our priorities.
● Christ makes demands on our time.
● Christ makes demands on our commitments.
● Christ challenges us about where we are going.
● And yet, Christ offers no quick fixes.

Christ steps into the comfort zones of the people in the city, and offers no quick fixes for the masses. They change their attitude, and there is a rapid, radical change in the social climate in Jerusalem that first Holy Week.

As we move through Holy Week this week, the journey continues towards the meal in the upper room, the betrayal in the garden, the arrest and trial, and along the road on Good Friday to Calvary. It continues to the Cross, and the to the tomb.

And still we are not there yet. We are not there.

We are not there until we arrive with the women at the empty tomb next Sunday morning, on Easter Day.

Pope Francis says, ‘Life is a journey. When we stop, things don’t go right.’

Continue with me on this journey through Holy Week. Join me at the foot of the cross on Good Friday, some time between 12 noon and 3 on Friday afternoon. And join with me in the joy and the love poured out at Easter.

And so, may all we think, say and do be to the praise, honour and glory of God, + Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.

This sermon was prepared for Palm Sunday, the Sixth Sunday in Lent, 25 March 2018

The entry into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday … an icon by Theodoros Papadopoulos of Larissa, who is leading a workshop in Knock, Co Mayo, later this year on 8 to 13 October 2018

Penitential Kyries (Passiontide and Holy Week):

Lord God,
you sent your Son to reconcile us to yourself and to one another.
Lord, have mercy.
Lord, have mercy.

Lord Jesus,
you heal the wounds of sin and division.
Christ, have mercy.
Christ, have mercy.

Holy Spirit,
through you we put to death the sins of the body – and live.
Lord, have mercy.
Lord, have mercy.

The Collect of the Day (Palm Sunday):

Almighty and everlasting God,
who, in your tender love towards the human race,
sent your Son our Saviour Jesus Christ
to take upon him our flesh
and to suffer death upon the cross:
Grant that we may follow the example
of his patience and humility,
and also be made partakers of his resurrection;
through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

The Lenten Collect:

Almighty and everlasting God,
you hate nothing that you have made
and forgive the sins of all those who are penitent:
Create and make in us new and contrite hearts
that we, worthily lamenting our sins
and acknowledging our wretchedness,
may receive from you, the God of all mercy,
perfect remission and forgiveness;
through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Introduction to the Peace:

Now in union with Christ Jesus you who were once far off have been brought near through the shedding of Christ's blood; for he is our peace (Ephesians 2: 17).

Preface:

Through Jesus Christ our Saviour,
who, for the redemption of the world,
humbled himself to death on the cross;
that, being lifted up from the earth,
he might draw all people to himself:

The Post-Communion Prayer:

Lord Jesus Christ,
you humbled yourself in taking the form of a servant
and in obedience died on the cross for our salvation.
Give us the mind to follow you
and to proclaim you as Lord and King,
to the glory of God the Father. Amen.

Blessing:

Christ draw you to himself
and grant that you find in his cross a sure ground for faith,
a firm support for hope,
and the assurance of sins forgiven:

Hymns:

217, All glory, laud and honour

134, Make way, make way for Christ the King

715, Holy, holy, holy, Lord God, the Lord Almighty

Palm Sunday ... an icon of the Triumphant entry of Christ into Jerusalem

‘Life is a journey that must be travelled no matter how bad the roads’

The entry into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday … an icon by Theodoros Papadopoulos of Larissa, who is leading a workshop in Knock, Co Mayo, later this year on 8 to 13 October 2018

Patrick Comerford

Sunday, 25 March 2018.

Palm Sunday, the Sixth Sunday in Lent

9.30 a.m., Morning Prayer, Castletown Church, Kilcornan, Co Limerick.

Readings: Isaiah 50: 4-9a; Psalm 118: 1-2, 19-29; Philippians 2: 5-11; Mark 11: 1-11.

May I speak to you in the name of God, + Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.

Do you remember being packed into the back of the car as children, and all the fights that went on in the back of the car?

Getting upset because someone else was pushing over into your space?

Getting stuck in the middle and not being able to see anything?

Two weeks ago, around Saint Patrick’s Weekend, a friend sent me a cartoon showing Saint Patrick, dressed up in his mitre and green robes, sitting at the wheel of a car, with the back seat full of snakes.

It is supposed to be ‘Saint Patrick driving the snakes out of Ireland.’ And all the child-snakes crammed into the backseat are crying out: ‘Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?’

What are your favourite journeys in life?

I can close my eyes and as a child see myself on the road out from Cappoquin to my grandmother’s house. I know every hedge and ditch, every bend on the road, and I can name who lives in each and every house along the way.

Or in my mind’s eye I can travel along the banks of the Slaney from below Bunclody down to Wexford, and out into Wexford Harbour at Ferrycarrig.

Now, as an adult, I never fail to be enthralled by the bus journey along the north coast of Crete, from Iraklion to Rethymnon, especially in the evening, when rays of light are sparkling and glistening on the deep blue sea and the sun is setting behind the old Venetian Fortezza.

Watching the sunset behind the Venetian Fortezza in Rethymnon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Psychologically, for many of us, when we call to mind sweet memories of journeys like these, they represent the way in which we think of life as a journey. They don’t all start in the same way, there are bumps and bounces and pitstops along the way, but the journeys we travel on and the journey of life are worth it all in themselves.

Life is a journey. As the Irish writer Oliver Goldsmith once said, ‘Life is a journey that must be travelled no matter how bad the roads and accommodations.’

And, along the way, we try to make that journey as good an experience as possible.

We have been with Christ on a journey to Jerusalem throughout these weeks in Lent. This morning, on Palm Sunday, we have arrived with him in Jerusalem.

Along the way, there have been many eventful happenings. During these Sundays in Lent, we have followed Christ from his Baptism in the Jordan out into wilderness, and then back to Galilee, where he begins to proclaim the Kingdom (Mark 1: 9-15, Lent I).

We heard how the disciples became confused about what sort of Messiah he was going to be, and how he told them to take up their crosses and follow him (Mark 8: 31-38, Lent II).

We saw him clear the traders and the money changers from the Temple, where they were a barrier to the free access of people to worship God, all people, regardless of their background, race, religion, language or social status (John 2: 13-22, Lent III).

We then joined Nicodemus as he came to visit Jesus in the night, under cover of darkness, and heard him foretell how he was going to be lifted up on the cross as a sign of God’s promise of eternal life, and declare how ‘God so loved the world that he gave his only Son’ (John 3: 14-21, Lent IV).

And then, last Sunday, we heard how some people, because they were Gentiles, Greek-speakers, still felt they were excluded from access to Jesus, and so excluded from access to the love of God (John 12: 20-33, Lent V).

The journey from Galilee to Jerusalem has been a journey from darkness towards light, but a journey that has not been an easy one for the Disciples.

Along the way, though, they have seen what temptation is like.

They have been challenged too to take up their cross and to follow Jesus.

They have seen the tables being turned when access to God is blocked by those who seek to make money through the exploitation of the poor.

It has been a journey from darkness into light. A journey that challenges us to accept the love of God and to be open to the love of others.

At times, the Disciples must have felt like children squeezed into the back seat of the family car as others decided to join in on the journey, crowding into their space along the way, as with the Greek-speaking Gentiles who had to go to Philip and Andrew to get to see Jesus.

But the journey is important. And, while they are challenged by their illusions along the way, they get there.

In his poem Ithaka, the Greek poet Constantine Cavafy writes about Odysseus returning from the Trojan Wars to his home on the island of Ithaka.

Cavafy tells Odysseus that arriving in Ithaka is what he is destined for, and that he must keep that always in mind: one’s destiny, the inevitable end of the journey, is a thing to be faced for what it is, without illusions:

Keep Ithaka always in your mind.
Arriving there is what you are destined for.
But do not hurry the journey at all.
Better if it lasts for years,
so you are old by the time you reach the island,
wealthy with all you have gained on the way,
not expecting Ithaka to make you rich.

Ithaka gave you the marvellous journey.
Without her you would not have set out.
She has nothing left to give you now.

And if you find her poor, Ithaka won’t have fooled you.
Wise as you will have become, so full of experience,
you will have understood by then what these Ithakas mean.

Yes, along the way, the Disciples have had to shed some of their illusions … about others, about themselves, about what Christ is calling them to.

Now they have arrived in Jerusalem, with all those experiences behind them, they find that the people in the city still share all the illusions they think they have shed.

The people still think that if Jesus is the Messiah, then he arrives in Jerusalem as the conquering hero.

They spread their cloaks on the road before him, they lop off leafy branches to wave at him and to decorate the way. And they sing out:

‘Hosanna!
Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!
Blessed is the coming kingdom of our ancestor David!
Hosanna in the highest heaven!’ (Mark 11: 9-10).

But this welcome, this understanding of what the mission of Jesus is about, was never the purpose of the journey.

Christ choses the way he enters Jerusalem on Palm Sunday. But he abandons all choice about how he is going to be taken outside the city to die a few days later. And Christ, who receives a lively welcome into the city on Palm Sunday, is taken outside the city and crucified on Good Friday.

● Christ upsets our priorities.
● Christ makes demands on our time.
● Christ makes demands on our commitments.
● Christ challenges us about where we are going.
● And yet, Christ offers no quick fixes.

Christ steps into the comfort zones of the people in the city, and offers no quick fixes for the masses. They change their attitude, and there is a rapid, radical change in the social climate in Jerusalem that first Holy Week.

As we move through Holy Week this week, the journey continues towards the meal in the upper room, the betrayal in the garden, the arrest and trial, and along the road on Good Friday to Calvary. It continues to the Cross, and the to the tomb.

And still we are not there yet. We are not there.

We are not there until we arrive with the women at the empty tomb next Sunday morning, on Easter Day.

Pope Francis says, ‘Life is a journey. When we stop, things don’t go right.’

Continue with me on this journey through Holy Week. Join me at the foot of the cross on Good Friday, some time between 12 noon and 3 on Friday afternoon. And join with me in the joy and the love poured out at Easter.

And so, may all we think, say and do be to the praise, honour and glory of God, + Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.

This sermon was prepared for Palm Sunday, the Sixth Sunday in Lent, 25 March 2018

‘Life is a journey that must be travelled no matter how bad the roads and accommodations’ … the statue of Oliver Goldsmith outside Trinity College Dublin (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Penitential Kyries (Passiontide and Holy Week):

Lord God,
you sent your Son to reconcile us to yourself and to one another.
Lord, have mercy.
Lord, have mercy.

Lord Jesus,
you heal the wounds of sin and division.
Christ, have mercy.
Christ, have mercy.

Holy Spirit,
through you we put to death the sins of the body – and live.
Lord, have mercy.
Lord, have mercy.

The Collect of the Day (Palm Sunday):

Almighty and everlasting God,
who, in your tender love towards the human race,
sent your Son our Saviour Jesus Christ
to take upon him our flesh
and to suffer death upon the cross:
Grant that we may follow the example
of his patience and humility,
and also be made partakers of his resurrection;
through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

The Lenten Collect:

Almighty and everlasting God,
you hate nothing that you have made
and forgive the sins of all those who are penitent:
Create and make in us new and contrite hearts
that we, worthily lamenting our sins
and acknowledging our wretchedness,
may receive from you, the God of all mercy,
perfect remission and forgiveness;
through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Introduction to the Peace:

Now in union with Christ Jesus you who were once far off have been brought near through the shedding of Christ's blood; for he is our peace (Ephesians 2: 17).

Preface:

Through Jesus Christ our Saviour,
who, for the redemption of the world,
humbled himself to death on the cross;
that, being lifted up from the earth,
he might draw all people to himself:

The Post-Communion Prayer:

Lord Jesus Christ,
you humbled yourself in taking the form of a servant
and in obedience died on the cross for our salvation.
Give us the mind to follow you
and to proclaim you as Lord and King,
to the glory of God the Father. Amen.

Blessing:

Christ draw you to himself
and grant that you find in his cross a sure ground for faith,
a firm support for hope,
and the assurance of sins forgiven:

Hymns:

217, All glory, laud and honour

134, Make way, make way for Christ the King

715, Holy, holy, holy, Lord God, the Lord Almighty

Palm Sunday ... an icon of the Triumphant entry of Christ into Jerusalem