Ten saints depicted on two panels of a 16th century predella in Ravello by Giovanni D’Angelo D’Amato (Photographs: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
Patrick Comerford
While I was travelling through the Sorrento and Amalfi region of Italy earlier this year, I was delighted to find that each town and city had its own cathedral or duomo, and that each duomo, almost invariably had its museum, often with a treasure of art works collected locally but largely unknown beyond the locality.
Typical of these cathedrals is the Duomo in Ravello. Although Ravello is a small town with only 2,500 inhabitants, it is known for its annual opera festival and the town is a Unesco World Heritage site that includes the Villa Rufolo, where the gardens inspired the setting for Wagner’s Parsifal.
The Duomo in the town centre was originally built in 1086, although the later façade dates from the 16th century. Inside, there is a pair of striking pulpits.
The cathedral museum has a small but interesting collection of religious artefacts, and I have chosen two 16th century paintings from this museum as my choice of Art for Advent this morning [23 December 2013].
These two paintings, which are oil on wood, are the work of Giovanni D’Angelo D’Amato, and are part of a polyptych he painted for the Trinity Benedictine Monastery in Ravello, depicting the Transfiguration, Our Lady of the Rosary, and the Mysteries of the Rosary.
The abbey was suppressed in 1812, and the Benedictine nuns there were moved to the Monastery of Salerno. However, the convent and its possessions became the property of the Church of Saint Michael the Archangel in Torello. Later, the paintings were later moved from Torello to the cathedral museum in Ravello.
This morning’s paintings form a predella that depicts an array of saints and martyrs.
The first painting depicts (from left):
1, Saint Benedict, the founder of western monasticism.
2, Saint Hieronymus or Jerome, who translated the Bible into Latin (the Vulgate).
3, Saint Augustine of Hippo, one of the first systematic theologians; in a famous sermon, Saint Augustine said: “God was made man, that man might be made God.”
4, Saint Aniello, an Italian Franciscan saint.
5, Saint Pantaleon, a fourth century martyr who was the patron of medicine.
The second painting depicts (from left):
6, Saint Francis of Assisi.
7, Saint Leonard, a sixth century abbot and the patron of prisoners.
8, Saint Mary Magdalene.
9, Saint Scholastica, the twin sister of Saint Benedict.
10, Saint Ursula, who was martyred on a pilgrimage to Rome; she was from south-west Britain, and is shown here with the flag of England, the cross of Saint George.
I have not chosen these paintings because of their tenuous associations with Christmas – Saint Francis is credited with creating the first Christmas crib, while Saint Leonard was converted to Christianity at Christmas 496. Instead, I have chosen them because, with only two days to go to Christmas we should remember that our Christian faith has been handed down through the centuries by saints and martyrs, by faithful monks and nuns, by bishops and theologians, by writers and translators, and by the whole heavenly company.
Our Christmas celebrations should never forget how the faith has been passed on down the generations, often at a cost but always by people who trusted more in advent of the Kingdom of God than in the present attractions of the kingdoms of this world.
And these saints remind us that the Incarnation is an ever-present reality. As Saint Augustine once said: “Do not grieve or complain that you were born in a time when you can no longer see God in the flesh. He did not in fact take this privilege from you. As he says, ‘Whatever you have done to the least of my brothers, you did to me’.”
Tomorrow: ‘The Nativity,’ by Edward Burne-Jones
23 December 2013
Teasing experiences of Four Seasons
on the Fourth Sunday of Advent
Winter lights and snow clouds on the beach at Bettystown, Co Meath, this afternoon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
Patrick Comerford
The bite of the bitter chills of Christmas weather could be felt along the east coast this afternoon.
Earlier in the morning there was a clear blue above Christ Church Cathedral that looked deceptively like summer skies – but for the bare branches on the trees in front of the Chapter House. But by the time four of us got to Laytown in the afternoon for a late lunch in Bettystown, the rain had turned to sleet, and soon in turned to snow.
Deceptive blue skies but bare branches at Christ Church Cathedral this morning (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
Yesterday was the winter solstice, and soon some smart people are going to begin repeating the well-worn Irish mantra: “It won’t be long before you start noticing a grand stretch in the evening.”
But this afternoon I noticed there the bite and chill of winter.
It was as though this Fourth Sunday of Advent was teasing us with some of the experiences of the Four Seasons on one day.
Earlier this morning, at 8.30, I had presided at and preached at the early morning Said Eucharist in the Lady Chapel in the cathedral.
Later, after a light breakfast in a pleasant café in Lord Edward Street, and a little time to skip through the pages of the Economist, I was back in the cathedral to preside at 11 a.m. at the Choral Eucharist.
The Lady Chapel in Christ Church Cathedral before the Said Eucharist early this morning (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
The preacher was the Dean of Residence in Trinity College Dublin, the Revd Darren McCallig, and the setting was Tomás Luis da Victoria’s Missa Ave Regina Coelorum, sung by the Cathedral Choir – an appropriate setting for the Fourth Sunday of Advent, when the Gospel reading, the fourth candle on the Advent Wreath, and the Collect and Post-Communion Prayer traditionally remember the Advent role of the Virgin Mary.
This morning’s hymns included: O come, O come, Emmanuel! (Post-Gospel Hymn), by TA Lacey; Long ago, prophets knew (Offertory Hymn), by F. Pratt Green, with its rousing season chorus:
Ring, bells, ring, ring, ring!
Sing, choirs, sing, sing, sing!
When he comes,
When he comes,
Who will make him welcome?
And All for Jesus! all for Jesus! (Communion Hymn), by WJ Sparrow-Simpson, with its tune by John Stainer; and Lo! he comes with clouds descending (Post-Communion Hymn), by Charles Wesley, to the tune Helmsley, attributed to Thomas Olivers.
During the Communion, the choir was in ambulatory to sing a 14th century Latin motet to a setting by Francisco Guerrero (1527–1599):
Ave virgo sanctissima, Dei Mater
piissima, maris stella clarissima.
Salve semper gloriosa, margarita pretiosa,
sicut lilium formosa, nitens, olens velut rosa.
Hail, Holy Virgin, most blessed Mother of God,
bright star of the sea.
Hail, ever glorious, precious pearl, beautiful as the lily,
shining and giving perfume like the rose.
The splendour of Gormanston Castle this afternoon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
After coffee in the crypt, and a brief stop in Clontarf, four of us continued north for lunch, stopping on the way so a visitor from New York could see the splendour of Gormanston Castle and the unique Yew Walk in the grounds of my old school, Gormanston College.
Local legend and popular tales given currency by schoolboys say Lord Gormanston created this sculpted yew walk as a triangular-shaped cloister in the late 17th century to appease his daughter and to persuade not to become a nun.
As we were leaving Gormanston, there were heavy black clouds in the sky. As we turned east from Julianstown towards Laytown, the rain started to pour down. Although we still had good views of the river and estuary, we joked that no-one could describe this as “a grand soft day.”
As we drove north along the “Gold Coast” of Co Meath, it was a matter of gold turning to silver as the rain turned to sleet, and then – by the time we got to Bettystown – turning to snow.
Snow on the terrace and tables outside Relish in Bettystown, Co Meath, this afternoon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
We got a table by the window at Relish, and sat watching the brown, snow filled choppy waters beating against the sands of the shore.
As we waited for our food, two of us descended the steps behind Relish, and as we photograph the winter scene, the snow suddenly stopped, the clouds turned to white and the sky to blue, and there was a blue reflection along the waters in the ripples in the sand. It was possible to imagine we could see as far as the Co Down coast to the north and the Mountains of Mourne that sweep down to the sea.
Looking south towards Laytown from the beach at Bettystown this afternoon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
We lingered in the warmth of the welcome at Relish, over an accompanying bottle of Pinot Grigio, and stayed even longer with four double espressos in this winter wonderland. How long is going to be this pleasant? Snow, ice and heavy rain is threatening to sweep across these islands with flooding and severe disruption to traffic over the next 24 hours.
Snow clouds above the Irish Sea at Bettystown this afternoon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
Patrick Comerford
The bite of the bitter chills of Christmas weather could be felt along the east coast this afternoon.
Earlier in the morning there was a clear blue above Christ Church Cathedral that looked deceptively like summer skies – but for the bare branches on the trees in front of the Chapter House. But by the time four of us got to Laytown in the afternoon for a late lunch in Bettystown, the rain had turned to sleet, and soon in turned to snow.
Deceptive blue skies but bare branches at Christ Church Cathedral this morning (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
Yesterday was the winter solstice, and soon some smart people are going to begin repeating the well-worn Irish mantra: “It won’t be long before you start noticing a grand stretch in the evening.”
But this afternoon I noticed there the bite and chill of winter.
It was as though this Fourth Sunday of Advent was teasing us with some of the experiences of the Four Seasons on one day.
Earlier this morning, at 8.30, I had presided at and preached at the early morning Said Eucharist in the Lady Chapel in the cathedral.
Later, after a light breakfast in a pleasant café in Lord Edward Street, and a little time to skip through the pages of the Economist, I was back in the cathedral to preside at 11 a.m. at the Choral Eucharist.
The Lady Chapel in Christ Church Cathedral before the Said Eucharist early this morning (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
The preacher was the Dean of Residence in Trinity College Dublin, the Revd Darren McCallig, and the setting was Tomás Luis da Victoria’s Missa Ave Regina Coelorum, sung by the Cathedral Choir – an appropriate setting for the Fourth Sunday of Advent, when the Gospel reading, the fourth candle on the Advent Wreath, and the Collect and Post-Communion Prayer traditionally remember the Advent role of the Virgin Mary.
This morning’s hymns included: O come, O come, Emmanuel! (Post-Gospel Hymn), by TA Lacey; Long ago, prophets knew (Offertory Hymn), by F. Pratt Green, with its rousing season chorus:
Ring, bells, ring, ring, ring!
Sing, choirs, sing, sing, sing!
When he comes,
When he comes,
Who will make him welcome?
And All for Jesus! all for Jesus! (Communion Hymn), by WJ Sparrow-Simpson, with its tune by John Stainer; and Lo! he comes with clouds descending (Post-Communion Hymn), by Charles Wesley, to the tune Helmsley, attributed to Thomas Olivers.
During the Communion, the choir was in ambulatory to sing a 14th century Latin motet to a setting by Francisco Guerrero (1527–1599):
Ave virgo sanctissima, Dei Mater
piissima, maris stella clarissima.
Salve semper gloriosa, margarita pretiosa,
sicut lilium formosa, nitens, olens velut rosa.
Hail, Holy Virgin, most blessed Mother of God,
bright star of the sea.
Hail, ever glorious, precious pearl, beautiful as the lily,
shining and giving perfume like the rose.
The splendour of Gormanston Castle this afternoon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
After coffee in the crypt, and a brief stop in Clontarf, four of us continued north for lunch, stopping on the way so a visitor from New York could see the splendour of Gormanston Castle and the unique Yew Walk in the grounds of my old school, Gormanston College.
Local legend and popular tales given currency by schoolboys say Lord Gormanston created this sculpted yew walk as a triangular-shaped cloister in the late 17th century to appease his daughter and to persuade not to become a nun.
As we were leaving Gormanston, there were heavy black clouds in the sky. As we turned east from Julianstown towards Laytown, the rain started to pour down. Although we still had good views of the river and estuary, we joked that no-one could describe this as “a grand soft day.”
As we drove north along the “Gold Coast” of Co Meath, it was a matter of gold turning to silver as the rain turned to sleet, and then – by the time we got to Bettystown – turning to snow.
Snow on the terrace and tables outside Relish in Bettystown, Co Meath, this afternoon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
We got a table by the window at Relish, and sat watching the brown, snow filled choppy waters beating against the sands of the shore.
As we waited for our food, two of us descended the steps behind Relish, and as we photograph the winter scene, the snow suddenly stopped, the clouds turned to white and the sky to blue, and there was a blue reflection along the waters in the ripples in the sand. It was possible to imagine we could see as far as the Co Down coast to the north and the Mountains of Mourne that sweep down to the sea.
Looking south towards Laytown from the beach at Bettystown this afternoon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
We lingered in the warmth of the welcome at Relish, over an accompanying bottle of Pinot Grigio, and stayed even longer with four double espressos in this winter wonderland. How long is going to be this pleasant? Snow, ice and heavy rain is threatening to sweep across these islands with flooding and severe disruption to traffic over the next 24 hours.
Snow clouds above the Irish Sea at Bettystown this afternoon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
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