15 January 2011

There’s no sign on the door saying: Gone fishin’

Fishing boats in the harbour in Skerries, Co Dublin, earlier this month (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2011)

Patrick Comerford

Matthew 4: 12-23:

12 Ἀκούσας δὲ ὅτι Ἰωάννης παρεδόθη ἀνεχώρησεν εἰς τὴν Γαλιλαίαν. 13 καὶ καταλιπὼν τὴν Ναζαρὰ ἐλθὼν κατῴκησεν εἰς Καφαρναοὺμ τὴν παραθαλασσίαν ἐν ὁρίοις Ζαβουλὼν καὶ Νεφθαλίμ: 14 ἵνα πληρωθῇ τὸ ῥηθὲν διὰ Ἠσαΐου τοῦ προφήτου λέγοντος,

15 Γῆ Ζαβουλὼν καὶ γῆ Νεφθαλίμ,
ὁδὸν θαλάσσης, πέραν τοῦ Ἰορδάνου, Γαλιλαία τῶν ἐθνῶν,
16 ὁ λαὸς ὁ καθήμενος ἐν σκότει φῶς εἶδεν μέγα,
καὶ τοῖς καθημένοις ἐν χώρᾳ καὶ σκιᾷ θανάτου φῶς ἀνέτειλεν αὐτοῖς.

17 Ἀπὸ τότε ἤρξατο ὁ Ἰησοῦς κηρύσσειν καὶ λέγειν, Μετανοεῖτε, ἤγγικεν γὰρ ἡ βασιλεία τῶν οὐρανῶν.

18 Περιπατῶν δὲ παρὰ τὴν θάλασσαν τῆς Γαλιλαίας εἶδεν δύο ἀδελφούς, Σίμωνα τὸν λεγόμενον Πέτρον καὶ Ἀνδρέαν τὸν ἀδελφὸν αὐτοῦ, βάλλοντας ἀμφίβληστρον εἰς τὴν θάλασσαν: ἦσαν γὰρ ἁλιεῖς. 19 καὶ λέγει αὐτοῖς, Δεῦτε ὀπίσω μου, καὶ ποιήσω ὑμᾶς ἁλιεῖς ἀνθρώπων. 20 οἱ δὲ εὐθέως ἀφέντες τὰ δίκτυα ἠκολούθησαν αὐτῷ. 21 Καὶ προβὰς ἐκεῖθεν εἶδεν ἄλλους δύο ἀδελφούς, Ἰάκωβον τὸν τοῦ Ζεβεδαίου καὶ Ἰωάννην τὸν ἀδελφὸν αὐτοῦ, ἐν τῷ πλοίῳ μετὰ Ζεβεδαίου τοῦ πατρὸς αὐτῶν καταρτίζοντας τὰ δίκτυα αὐτῶν: καὶ ἐκάλεσεν αὐτούς. 22 οἱ δὲ εὐθέως ἀφέντες τὸ πλοῖον καὶ τὸν πατέρα αὐτῶν ἠκολούθησαν αὐτῷ.

23 Καὶ περιῆγεν ἐν ὅλῃ τῇ Γαλιλαίᾳ, διδάσκων ἐν ταῖς συναγωγαῖς αὐτῶν καὶ κηρύσσων τὸ εὐαγγέλιον τῆς βασιλείας καὶ θεραπεύων πᾶσαν νόσον καὶ πᾶσαν μαλακίαν ἐν τῷ λαῷ.

Now when Jesus heard that John had been arrested, he withdrew to Galilee. He left Nazareth and made his home in Capernaum by the lake, in the territory of Zebulun and Naphtali, so that what had been spoken through the prophet Isaiah might be fulfilled:

‘Land of Zebulun, land of Naphtali,
on the road by the sea, across the Jordan, Galilee of the Gentiles –
the people who sat in darkness
have seen a great light,
and for those who sat in the region and shadow of death
light has dawned.’

From that time Jesus began to proclaim, ‘Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.’

As he walked by the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon, who is called Peter, and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the lake – for they were fishermen. And he said to them, ‘Follow me, and I will make you fish for people.’ Immediately they left their nets and followed him. As he went from there, he saw two other brothers, James son of Zebedee and his brother John, in the boat with their father Zebedee, mending their nets, and he called them. Immediately they left the boat and their father, and followed him.

Jesus went throughout Galilee, teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the good news of the kingdom and curing every disease and every sickness among the people.

‘Follow me, and I will make you fish for people’

The Gospel reading in the Revised Common Lectionary for tomorrow week, the Third Sunday after the Epiphany (23 January 2011), is: Matthew 4: 12-23.

On the previous Sunday, tomorrow morning (16 January 2011), we shall have read the account in Saint John’s Gospel of the Baptism of Christ by John the Baptist and the calling of the first disciples (John 1: 29-42). This followed by the account in Saint Matthew’s Gospel, of Christ withdrawing to Galilee after the arrest of Saint John the Baptist, preaching in the area around Capernaum, and then, as he walks along the shore of the Sea of Galilee, calling his first disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter and the brothers James and John, son of Zebedee.

I imagine, as they listen to this Gospel reading in the pews, a number of phrases are going to resonate immediately:

● “the people who sat in darkness have seen a great light” (verse 16);
● “for those who sat in the region and the shadow of death light has dawned” (verse 16);
● “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near” (verse 17);
● “Follow me, and I will make you fish for people” (verse 19);
● “Immediately they left their nets [or the boat …] and followed him” (see verses 20, 22).

Despite the familiarity of those phrases, I’m sure there are images and quotes that leap out at you on reading this passage afresh.

And some come back to us in the more familiar language of other translations and versions:

● “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand” (verse 17, RSV).
● Or, “Follow me, for I will make you fishers of men” (verse 19, RSV) for example?

In popular newspaper cartoons, humorous office absences are often indicated by a sign hung on the door declaring: “Gone Fishin’.”

Fishing in our culture is often seen by none-fishers as idleness, a sedentary past-time, taking it easy, doing nothing.

I can’t imagine it was like that for the first disciples. It was a tough career task: think of the night work, the storms, and the difficulties in finding a catch that occur time and again in the Gospels.

I don’t know which was a more difficult and demanding task: being a fisherman on the Sea of Galilee, or being a Disciple of Christ … especially when the call comes from someone who has withdrawn to Galilee after the arrest of his cousin, the one who publicly baptised and acclaimed him, John the Baptist.

Either way, the four first disciples were going to have no lazy day by the shore or the river bank, or as followers of Christ.

Becoming “fishers of men,” “fishing for people,” is going to bring these Galilean fishers into a relationship not only with Jesus, with their families, with their neighbours, with the tax collectors, with Pharisees, Sadducees and Zealots, with the powers of this world, with Gentiles, with the people who sat in darkness and in the region of the shadow of death.

Sometimes, in ordained ministry, we do not cast our nets far enough or deep enough. No wonder then that most of the time, when we pull in those nets, we find them empty.

There is saying that fish come in three sizes, small ones, medium ones and the ones that got away.

Too often in ordained ministry, we know about the small ones, we’re good with the medium ones, but we pay little attention to going after the ones that get away.

Fishermen taking care of their nets in the fishing harbour at Pythagoreio on the island of Samos (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2010)

I’m a vegetarian, but the image of patient fishing is worth working with. Ernest Hemingway, in The Old Man and The Sea, says “Il faut (d’abord) durer … It is necessary, above all else, to endure. It is necessary to endure.”

Many years ago, when I hitch-hiking and youth-hostelling in peaks on the borders of Staffordshire and Derbyshire in my late teens, and staying in Ilam Hall, I came across the work of that great Anglican writer, Izaak Walton (1593-1683), known not only for his biographies of John Donne, George Herbert and Richard Hooker, but also known as the author of The Compleat Angler.

In The Compleat Angler, Izaak Walton points out that fishing can teach us patience and discipline. Fishing takes practice, preparation, discipline; like discipleship, it has to be learned, and learning requires practice before there are any results. And sometimes, whether it is fishing in a river or fishing in the sea, the best results can come from going against the current.

Walking along the pier in a small Greek fishing village last summer, as I watched the careful early morning work of the crews in the trawlers and fishing boats, I realised good fishing does not come about by accident. It also requires paying attention to the nets, moving them carefully, mending them, cleaning them after each and every use, hanging them out to dry,.

And fishing is also about noticing the weather, watching the wind and the clouds. Good fishing takes account of contexts … it is incarnational.

And all of these apply to the work of ordained ministry.

Time and again in Gospels, the Kingdom of God is compared to huge net cast over different numbers of people and species. We are the ones called to cast that net, but do so we need to attend to our own discipline, endurance, and patience.

Ordained ministry is not passive following of Christ.

We can’t hang any sign outside on our office doors saying: “Gone Fishin’.”

Nor can we passively stand by the bank or on the shore, content with two sizes of fish. We are called to go after the one that others let get away, not just those who come to Church regularly, but their families, with their neighbours, with the tax collectors, with the Pharisees, Sadducees and Zealots of our age, with the powers of this world, with Gentiles, and especially with the people who sit in darkness and in the region of the shadow of death.

Canon Patrick Comerford is Director of Spiritual Formation, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute. This essay is based on notes prepared for a Bible study in a tutorial group with NSM and part-time MTh students on 15 January 2011.

Bright winter sunshine on the beach at Bray

A picture perfect window at the Beach House restaurant in Bray (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2011)

Patrick Comerford

Teaching resumes this weekend, and the first students have returned after the Christmas and New Year break for a residential weekend for both part-time MTh and NSM (non-stipendiary ministry) students.

But just before it all became too busy, and knowing there was going to be no other opportunity for a walk on the beach this weekend, I headed over to Bray late in the morning.

After they married in 1945, my parents lived for a short time on Putland Road in Bray. In the mid-1970s, when I worked for the Wexford People, I had particular responsibility for the front page and the sports pages of the Bray People, a localised edition of the Wicklow People.

In recent years I have enjoyed walks on the beach and the seafront in Bray, and have spoken to the Mothers’ Union in Bray parish. But this was the first time in many years that I took an opportunity to stroll through the streets of Bray.

Victorian values

For many, this may be suburban Dublin. But Bray is a borough in its own right, and this north Co Wicklow town still retains much of its individuality and character.

In the latter part of the 18th century, the Dublin middle classes began to move to Bray to escape city life, but with the opportunity of remaining close to the city.

The Dublin and Kingstown Railway, which opened in 1834, reached Bray by 1854, and the town soon grew into Ireland’s largest seaside resort and a popular resort for honeymooners. After their marriage in Donabate in 1891, Richard and Harriette Lynders from Portrane spent their honeymoon in Tracy’s Bray Head Hotel. The receipts, which are among some of the curious accounts that survive in Newbridge House in Donabate, proclaim on headed paper that the hotel is “facing the sea” and itemise the cost of their one-day honeymoon:

“2 teas & eggs 3: 0
Bed & Breakast 8: 0”

The total cost was 11 shillings (55 cents). There’s Victorian values and value for you.

Although post-war holiday-makers from Britain and Northern Ireland gave the town’s tourist industry a fresh boost in the 1950s, Bray has declined as a resort since the 1960s. However, the town is still popular with visitors who enjoy scenic walks around Bray Head or along the seafront with mile-long beach and its bars and restaurants.

Victorian town hall

The Victorian town hall built by the Brabazon family at the top of the Main Street in Bray (Photograph Patrick Comerford, 2011)

We parked on the Main Street, near the junction with Novara Road, and strolled up the Main Street to Bray Town Hall and Market House, which was built in the 1880s in the Tudor Revival style.

The Town Hall was commissioned by Reginald Brabazon (1841-1929), Lord Ardee, son and heir of the local landlord, William Brabazon (1803-1887), 11th Earl of Meath.

Lord Ardee was working in the British Diplomatic Service in the 1870s, when he was offered a posting in Athens. However, his wife’s family persuaded him that Athens was too remote, he declined the posting, was suspended without pay, and finally resigned from the Diplomatic Service in 1877. He returned home to Ireland with his wife, promising to devote their considerable energies to “the consideration of social problems and the relief of human suffering.”

Bray had been without a market house since the old one was demolished in the 1830s, and Lord Ardee wrote to the town council in 1879 offering to build a covered market house for about £4,000 – the final cost turned out to be £6,366.

The building was designed by two of the leading architects of the day, Sir Thomas Newenham Deane (1827-1899) and his son Thomas Manly Deane (1851-1932), with input from Sir Edward Guy Dawber (1861-1938), who later became a prominent figure in the Arts and Crafts movement in England.

The Market House is built of local red brick, with timber framing to projecting first floor bays and gables. The pitched roof is tiled and the two-storey portion facing the Main Street is surmounted by a tall copper-clad fleche, complete with clock. The wrought iron gates in the north porch are dated 1881, although the building was largely built in 1882-1883. The town council first met in the new chamber in 1884.

Looking at the building from the side, it is still possible to imagine the original busy market area, 62 ft long by 50 ft wide, with its arcades opening onto the street.

The upper floor is reached by a stone staircase at the east side and with an open timber roof and oak chimney-pieces with carved panels. In the south porch, there is a battered mock Tudor inscription:

Who traffic here beware no strife ensue
In all your dealings be ye just and true
Let [justice] strictly in the scale be weighed
So shall ye call God's blessing on your trade.


On the north front there are relief carvings on the gables of the Brabazon coats of arms, and 30 stained-glass panels in the windows display the heraldic arms of the Brabazon family and their wives from Norman times on.

When his father died in 1887, Lord Ardee inherited his father’s estate and titles and became the 12th Earl of Meath. He was one of the last Irish peers to be made a Knight of the Order of Saint Patrick. He continued to be involved in politics as a conservative peer, but he also became a Senator in the new Irish Free State, and was Chief Scout Commissioner for Ireland.

When he died in 1929, Lord Meath was buried in the Church of Ireland churchyard in Delgany, Co Wicklow. But he was also honoured by a statue erected outside the Columbia Hotel near Lancaster Gate in London.

Hard to swallow?

The Brabazon wyvern outside the Town Hall (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2011)

The market house was closed in the mid-1940s, but the building continued to be used as Bray’s Town Hall. The building underwent change in the 1970s when the arcade openings were filled in and the market space became municipal offices.

In 1991, after major refurbishment, the ground floor was converted into a high-ceilinged restaurant, and in 1997 this was taken over by McDonald’s. Is this an act of cultural vandalism? Or has it helped to keep alive an important part of the architectural heritage in the town?

In front of the town hall, a drinking fountain is crowned by a wyvern, a mythological winged dragon that features in the coat of arms of the Brabazon family and the Earls of Meath.

Wyvern is also the name of a new housing development a few steps away, along the Main Street, and seems to hold the promise of transforming an elegant Victorian house. This morning Wyvern was hoarded up, but the elegant old house was reflected gracefully in the sunshine on the concave facade of the modern offices of Bray Town Council.

Wyvern reflected in the noonday sunlight on the Town Hall in Bray (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2011)

A prize-deserving location

From the town hall, we moved on down to the seafront, just in front of what was once Tracy’s Bray Head Hotel, where Richard and Harriette Lynders spent their honeymoon.

In the bright noonday sunshine, it was a pleasant stroll along the promenade, with the sea breeze creating tiny rainbows in the spray as the small waves splashed against the pebbles and broke against the rocks.

We returned to the Beach House restaurant for lunch: fish and chips for one, goat’s cheese panino for me, and two coffees – one double espresso and one Americano – came to €24.55.

I’m happy to recommend my favourite and oft-frequented cafés and restaurants. This blog doesn’t do awards and prizes. But if I did, then the Beach House must take first prize for its location and its interior décor.

We had a table by a full-height window looking out onto the beach … it must be what every movie-maker dreams of when they want to create a Malibu Beach type of set.

And it was a lunch that I wished could have lasted just a little longer.

But I had to get back to work.

Blue skies and a blue sea in Bray at noon today (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2011)