‘Commune with your own heart upon your bed … in peace I will lie down and sleep’ (Psalm 4: 4, 8) … ‘every night I flood my bed with tears’ (Psalm 6: 6) … a traditional Cretan bedroom near Vryses (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Patrick Comerford
Lent began yesterday, Ash Wednesday (2 March 2022). Before today begins, I am taking some time early this morning for prayer, reflection and reading.
During Lent this year, in this Prayer Diary on my blog each morning, I am reflecting in these ways:
1, Short reflections on a psalm or psalms;
2, reading the psalm or psalms;
3, a prayer from the USPG prayer diary.
Psalm 4:
Psalm 4 is a prayer for delivery from personal enemies, and is a psalm of lament.
The psalm opens with a cry for help to God from the psalmist, who knows that God is on his side (‘of my right,’ verse 1). God has helped him in the past, and he hopes that God is now going to hear his plea.
The psalmist rebukes his foes who have falsely shamed and slandered him and lied about him (verse 2). They need to realise that God sees him as faithful, and hears his prayer (verse 3).
He then reminds himself to that he has no need to be disturbed, for God hears his prayers in silence (verse 4). In his prayer and worship, he can put his trust in God (verse 5). Despite what others may say, he can be confident in the presence of God (verse 6), who blesses him and meets his spiritual and physical needs (verse 7). God’s blessings offer such inner joy that he is now assured that he can sleep in peace, confident of God’s protection (verse 8).
Psalm 5:
Psalm 5 is known in Latin Verba mea auribus percipe Domine. The correct translation of the Hebrew word in the superscription (הַנְּחִילֹ֗ות) in the superscription is unclear; the NRSVA gives it as ‘for the flutes.’
This psalm, attributed to King David, is a reflection of how the righteous person prays for deliverance not only for freedom from suffering, but to allow himself to be able to serve God without distraction.
Psalm 5 is often associate with morning prayer. Hence verse 3: ‘O Lord, in the morning you hear my voice; in the morning I plead my case to you, and watch.’
This is the first of five psalms (Psalms 5-9) all speaking of ‘the name of God.’ This psalm includes the theme of lament, which becomes a common genre in the Psalms.
This Psalm opens as a lament, continues with praise, and requests that God punish evildoers. The psalmist describes the throat of the wicked as an open sepulchre. The Psalmist ends with a blessing extended to all those who trust in God.
Psalm 6:
Psalm 6 is known in Latin as Domine ne in furore tuo arguas me (‘Answer me when I call, O God of my right’). It is attributed to King David and is said to have been written to serve as a prayer for anyone suffering from sickness or distress or for the state of the Kingdom of Israel while suffering through oppression.
This is the first of the seven Penitential Psalms, but is also understood as one of the Individual Lamentations.
Psalm 6 is in three parts. first, the psalmist addresses God, then he speaks for himself, and
finally he speaks to his enemies.
Although it is not clear if he is innocent, he says he will be reinstated and that his opponents will be confounded. His trouble seems primarily psychological, but is also expressed through the body. It is as much the body as the soul of the psalmist cries out to God. In fact, it is also touched in his spiritual being, faced with the abandonment of God.
In the absence of God emerges the final hope of the Psalmist, expressed confidence cry in the concluding verses.
Psalm 4 (NRSVA):
To the leader: with stringed instruments. A Psalm of David.
1 Answer me when I call, O God of my right!
You gave me room when I was in distress.
Be gracious to me, and hear my prayer.
2 How long, you people, shall my honour suffer shame?
How long will you love vain words, and seek after lies?
Selah
3 But know that the Lord has set apart the faithful for himself;
the Lord hears when I call to him.
4 When you are disturbed, do not sin;
ponder it on your beds, and be silent.
Selah
5 Offer right sacrifices,
and put your trust in the Lord.
6 There are many who say, ‘O that we might see some good!
Let the light of your face shine on us, O Lord!’
7 You have put gladness in my heart
more than when their grain and wine abound.
8 I will both lie down and sleep in peace;
for you alone, O Lord, make me lie down in safety.
Psalm 5 (NRSVA):
To the leader: for the flutes. A Psalm of David.
1 Give ear to my words, O Lord;
give heed to my sighing.
2 Listen to the sound of my cry,
my King and my God,
for to you I pray.
3 O Lord, in the morning you hear my voice;
in the morning I plead my case to you, and watch.
4 For you are not a God who delights in wickedness;
evil will not sojourn with you.
5 The boastful will not stand before your eyes;
you hate all evildoers.
6 You destroy those who speak lies;
the Lord abhors the bloodthirsty and deceitful.
7 But I, through the abundance of your steadfast love,
will enter your house,
I will bow down towards your holy temple
in awe of you.
8 Lead me, O Lord, in your righteousness
because of my enemies;
make your way straight before me.
9 For there is no truth in their mouths;
their hearts are destruction;
their throats are open graves;
they flatter with their tongues.
10 Make them bear their guilt, O God;
let them fall by their own counsels;
because of their many transgressions cast them out,
for they have rebelled against you.
11 But let all who take refuge in you rejoice;
let them ever sing for joy.
Spread your protection over them,
so that those who love your name may exult in you.
12 For you bless the righteous, O Lord;
you cover them with favour as with a shield.
Psalm 6 (NRSVA):
To the leader: with stringed instruments; according to The Sheminith. A Psalm of David.
1 O Lord, do not rebuke me in your anger,
or discipline me in your wrath.
2 Be gracious to me, O Lord, for I am languishing;
O Lord, heal me, for my bones are shaking with terror.
3 My soul also is struck with terror,
while you, O Lord—how long?
4 Turn, O Lord, save my life;
deliver me for the sake of your steadfast love.
5 For in death there is no remembrance of you;
in Sheol who can give you praise?
6 I am weary with my moaning;
every night I flood my bed with tears;
I drench my couch with my weeping.
7 My eyes waste away because of grief;
they grow weak because of all my foes.
8 Depart from me, all you workers of evil,
for the Lord has heard the sound of my weeping.
9 The Lord has heard my supplication;
the Lord accepts my prayer.
10 All my enemies shall be ashamed and struck with terror;
they shall turn back, and in a moment be put to shame.
Today’s Prayer:
The Prayer in the USPG Prayer Diary today (3 March 2022, World Wildlife Day) invites us to pray:
We pray for conservationists and animal rights activists working to protect wildlife in the UK and across the world.
Yesterday’s reflection
Continued tomorrow
Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible: Anglicised Edition copyright © 1989, 1995, National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide. http://nrsvbibles.org
03 March 2022
‘A strange thread of events’ that
links Gorey with the lost Caravaggio
‘The Taking of Christ’ by Caravaggio … bought by Dr Marie Lea-Wilson after her husband was murdered in Gorey, Co Wexford (National Gallery of Ireland)
Patrick Comerford
During my ‘road trip’ visit to Co Wexford last week, I visited Christ Church, Gorey, and last night in this blog (1 March 2022) I described the windows from the Harry Clarke Studios that are unique treasures in this Church of Ireland parish church in north Wexford. But the church and these windows also have an interesting link with one of the greatest art discoveries in Ireland in recent decades.
Two of the windows commemorate Percival Lea-Wilson, the District Inspector for North Wexford in the Royal Irish Constabulary, who was shot dead by the IRA on the streets of Gorey on 15 June 1920 during the War of Independence.
Percival Lea-Wilson was then 33 and was a marked man because of his alleged brutal treatment of Tom Clarke, one of the signatories of the Easter Proclamation, and other republican prisoners after the 1916 Rising.
It is said Michael Collins had seen Lea-Wilson humiliating and mistreating Tom Clarke in the Rotunda Gardens after the Easter Rising. Clarke was ordered to strip naked in front of the other prisoners, an incident depicted in the RTÉ drama Rebellion.
Collins got his revenge four years later when Lea-Wilson was gunned down in daylight after buying a newspaper at the railway station in Gorey.
The murder of Lea-Wilson is listed in the brigade activity reports for the North Wexford Brigade (3 Eastern Division) of the IRA as an operation sanctioned by IRA General Headquarters involving 10 men, of whom five took part in the shooting and five in scouting.
In his application for a military pension, Sean Whelan, an IRA activist in Co Wexford, said he shot Lea-Wilson in the shoulder during the attack, but added: ‘I was supposed to be the best shot and I was selected and it turned out I was not.’
The Saint Stephen window by Harry Clarke was erected in Christ Church, Gorey, in memory of Percival Lea-Wilson by his widow, Dr Marie Lea-Wilson (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2022)
Lea-Wilson had married Galway-born Marie Ryan in 1914. The effect of his murder on her life would become a key factor in one of the greatest art discoveries of the 20th century.
After her husband’s murder, Dr Lea-Wilson went on to train as a doctor at Trinity College Dublin, where she graduated in 1928. She was one of only three women in the class, and became a noted paediatrician at the Children’s Hospital in Harcourt Street, Dublin. Although she was described as somewhat stern, she attended Mass daily before work and was devoted to her four dachshunds.
Dr Lea-Wilson forged a strong connection with the Jesuit community in Dublin, receiving spiritual support from Father Tom Finlay at the Jesuit house on Leeson Street, which may explain her subsequent gift of an important painting to them in the 1930s.
Dr Lea-Wilson bought the painting at an auction in 1924, four years before she qualified as a paediatrician. She gifted the painting to the Jesuits in the 1930s in thanks for their support after her husband’s murder. She died in 1971.
Sergio Benedetti, a conservator at the National Gallery of Ireland, was invited to the Jesuit house in Leeson Street in August 1990 to look over the collection of paintings. It all seemed a matter of routine until he came to The Taking of Christ, then attributed to the Dutch painter Gerrit van Honthorst.
Benedetti was startled. As a specialist in Caravaggio and his followers, he was convinced that he was looking not at a Honthorst – he painted in the same style – but at Caravaggio’s long-lost original, which he painted in 1602 for the Mattei family, his patrons in Rome.
Three years of historical detective work began. Working through the Mattei archives, two Italian PhD students traced the history of the painting from commission to payment to the year 1793, when a careless archivist misattributed it to Honthorst.
Ten years after that it was sold – as a Honthorst – along with other paintings to a Scottish landowner, and a century later, having been turned down by the Scottish National Gallery, it was bought by an Edinburgh art dealer who sold it to an unknown buyer for £8.8.0 in 1921.
The painting was bought at an auction in 1924 by Lea-Wilson’s widow. Four years later, she qualified as a paediatrician in 1928. A devout Catholic, she gifted the painting to the Jesuits in the 1930s in thanks for their support after her husband’s murder. She died in 1971.
Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio (1571-1610) painted The Taking of Christ in 1602 as a commission for the distinguished patrician and city official Ciriaco Mattei (1545-1614). The painting remained in the Mattei family, inherited by various family members, for the next 200 years. However, by the second half of the 18th century, Caravaggio’s name was no longer attached to the painting. At this time, a number of paintings in the Mattei collection were reattributed, and Caravaggio’s The Taking of Christ was incorrectly attributed to a Dutch artist, Gerrit van Honthorst (1592-1656).
Honthorst was a follower of Caravaggio, and was particularly influenced by the Italian painter’s use of dramatic shadow and light (chiaroscuro) in his compositions. He painted many candle-lit scenes that earned him the Italian nickname Gherardo delle Notti (Gerard of the Night Scenes). However, in the Mattei archives his nickname was misspelled as Gherardo della Notte. This mistake, repeated in every successive document, was an important clue during the authentication process in the 1990s.
Duke Giuseppe Mattei sold The Taking of Christ, along with other paintings, in 1802 to William Hamilton Nisbet, a wealthy Scottish art collector in Rome. Records from this sale list the painting as Imprigionamento del N.S. di Gherardo della Notte. The mistake in spelling (Notte rather than Notti) was repeated on the gilt tablet made for the new frame.
The painting remained in the Hamilton family for 119 years, until it was sold at auction by Dowell’s in Edinburgh in 1921, and again in 1922. At this point, it was owned by Major the Charles Hubert Francis Noel (1885-1947), a younger son of Charles William Francis Noel (1850-1926), 3rd Earl of Gainsborough, and his Irish-born wife, Mary Elizabeth Dease. (For my story of Major Noel’s aunt, Lady Blanche Noel, and her marriage to Thomas Murphy, click HERE).
Dr Marie Lea-Wilson bought the painting in 1924 and brought it to Ireland. The first record of its presence in Ireland is a receipt for £20 for the restoration of its frame by James Hicks (1886-1936), of 5 Lower Pembroke Street, Dublin, a well-known furniture maker and restorer, in 1924.
When Dr Lea-Wilson presented the painting to the Jesuit Fathers of Leeson Street it was still attributed to Honthorst. It remained in their house, hanging in the dining room, for over 50 years.
In August 1990, Father Noel Barber SJ contacted the National Gallery of Ireland about assessing the works of art in the Jesuit House. A senior conservator, Sergio Benedetti, visited the house and noticed the potential in the dark painting hanging in the dining room. Even though it was obscured by discoloured varnish, he recognised the subject and composition as those of the ‘lost’ Caravaggio painting. Three years of meticulous research, analysis and consultation with international experts followed to authenticate and conserve the masterpiece.
After the discovery, Father Noel Barber played a pivotal role in the decision to place Caravaggio’s painting on indefinite loan to the Irish public from the Jesuit Community in Leeson Street, acknowledging the generosity of Dr Marie Lea-Wilson.
The Jesuits gave the painting on an indefinite loan to the National Gallery of Ireland, where it remains one of the most significant masterpieces on display and one of its most popular exhibits.
As Father Noel Barber said, it is ‘a strange thread of events’ that led to this magnificent painting finding its place on the wall of the National Gallery of Ireland.
The one-light window depicting Gideon by Joshua Clarke in Christ Church, Gorey … erected by Pericval Lea-Wilson’s colleagues and friends (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2022)
Patrick Comerford
During my ‘road trip’ visit to Co Wexford last week, I visited Christ Church, Gorey, and last night in this blog (1 March 2022) I described the windows from the Harry Clarke Studios that are unique treasures in this Church of Ireland parish church in north Wexford. But the church and these windows also have an interesting link with one of the greatest art discoveries in Ireland in recent decades.
Two of the windows commemorate Percival Lea-Wilson, the District Inspector for North Wexford in the Royal Irish Constabulary, who was shot dead by the IRA on the streets of Gorey on 15 June 1920 during the War of Independence.
Percival Lea-Wilson was then 33 and was a marked man because of his alleged brutal treatment of Tom Clarke, one of the signatories of the Easter Proclamation, and other republican prisoners after the 1916 Rising.
It is said Michael Collins had seen Lea-Wilson humiliating and mistreating Tom Clarke in the Rotunda Gardens after the Easter Rising. Clarke was ordered to strip naked in front of the other prisoners, an incident depicted in the RTÉ drama Rebellion.
Collins got his revenge four years later when Lea-Wilson was gunned down in daylight after buying a newspaper at the railway station in Gorey.
The murder of Lea-Wilson is listed in the brigade activity reports for the North Wexford Brigade (3 Eastern Division) of the IRA as an operation sanctioned by IRA General Headquarters involving 10 men, of whom five took part in the shooting and five in scouting.
In his application for a military pension, Sean Whelan, an IRA activist in Co Wexford, said he shot Lea-Wilson in the shoulder during the attack, but added: ‘I was supposed to be the best shot and I was selected and it turned out I was not.’
The Saint Stephen window by Harry Clarke was erected in Christ Church, Gorey, in memory of Percival Lea-Wilson by his widow, Dr Marie Lea-Wilson (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2022)
Lea-Wilson had married Galway-born Marie Ryan in 1914. The effect of his murder on her life would become a key factor in one of the greatest art discoveries of the 20th century.
After her husband’s murder, Dr Lea-Wilson went on to train as a doctor at Trinity College Dublin, where she graduated in 1928. She was one of only three women in the class, and became a noted paediatrician at the Children’s Hospital in Harcourt Street, Dublin. Although she was described as somewhat stern, she attended Mass daily before work and was devoted to her four dachshunds.
Dr Lea-Wilson forged a strong connection with the Jesuit community in Dublin, receiving spiritual support from Father Tom Finlay at the Jesuit house on Leeson Street, which may explain her subsequent gift of an important painting to them in the 1930s.
Dr Lea-Wilson bought the painting at an auction in 1924, four years before she qualified as a paediatrician. She gifted the painting to the Jesuits in the 1930s in thanks for their support after her husband’s murder. She died in 1971.
Sergio Benedetti, a conservator at the National Gallery of Ireland, was invited to the Jesuit house in Leeson Street in August 1990 to look over the collection of paintings. It all seemed a matter of routine until he came to The Taking of Christ, then attributed to the Dutch painter Gerrit van Honthorst.
Benedetti was startled. As a specialist in Caravaggio and his followers, he was convinced that he was looking not at a Honthorst – he painted in the same style – but at Caravaggio’s long-lost original, which he painted in 1602 for the Mattei family, his patrons in Rome.
Three years of historical detective work began. Working through the Mattei archives, two Italian PhD students traced the history of the painting from commission to payment to the year 1793, when a careless archivist misattributed it to Honthorst.
Ten years after that it was sold – as a Honthorst – along with other paintings to a Scottish landowner, and a century later, having been turned down by the Scottish National Gallery, it was bought by an Edinburgh art dealer who sold it to an unknown buyer for £8.8.0 in 1921.
The painting was bought at an auction in 1924 by Lea-Wilson’s widow. Four years later, she qualified as a paediatrician in 1928. A devout Catholic, she gifted the painting to the Jesuits in the 1930s in thanks for their support after her husband’s murder. She died in 1971.
Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio (1571-1610) painted The Taking of Christ in 1602 as a commission for the distinguished patrician and city official Ciriaco Mattei (1545-1614). The painting remained in the Mattei family, inherited by various family members, for the next 200 years. However, by the second half of the 18th century, Caravaggio’s name was no longer attached to the painting. At this time, a number of paintings in the Mattei collection were reattributed, and Caravaggio’s The Taking of Christ was incorrectly attributed to a Dutch artist, Gerrit van Honthorst (1592-1656).
Honthorst was a follower of Caravaggio, and was particularly influenced by the Italian painter’s use of dramatic shadow and light (chiaroscuro) in his compositions. He painted many candle-lit scenes that earned him the Italian nickname Gherardo delle Notti (Gerard of the Night Scenes). However, in the Mattei archives his nickname was misspelled as Gherardo della Notte. This mistake, repeated in every successive document, was an important clue during the authentication process in the 1990s.
Duke Giuseppe Mattei sold The Taking of Christ, along with other paintings, in 1802 to William Hamilton Nisbet, a wealthy Scottish art collector in Rome. Records from this sale list the painting as Imprigionamento del N.S. di Gherardo della Notte. The mistake in spelling (Notte rather than Notti) was repeated on the gilt tablet made for the new frame.
The painting remained in the Hamilton family for 119 years, until it was sold at auction by Dowell’s in Edinburgh in 1921, and again in 1922. At this point, it was owned by Major the Charles Hubert Francis Noel (1885-1947), a younger son of Charles William Francis Noel (1850-1926), 3rd Earl of Gainsborough, and his Irish-born wife, Mary Elizabeth Dease. (For my story of Major Noel’s aunt, Lady Blanche Noel, and her marriage to Thomas Murphy, click HERE).
Dr Marie Lea-Wilson bought the painting in 1924 and brought it to Ireland. The first record of its presence in Ireland is a receipt for £20 for the restoration of its frame by James Hicks (1886-1936), of 5 Lower Pembroke Street, Dublin, a well-known furniture maker and restorer, in 1924.
When Dr Lea-Wilson presented the painting to the Jesuit Fathers of Leeson Street it was still attributed to Honthorst. It remained in their house, hanging in the dining room, for over 50 years.
In August 1990, Father Noel Barber SJ contacted the National Gallery of Ireland about assessing the works of art in the Jesuit House. A senior conservator, Sergio Benedetti, visited the house and noticed the potential in the dark painting hanging in the dining room. Even though it was obscured by discoloured varnish, he recognised the subject and composition as those of the ‘lost’ Caravaggio painting. Three years of meticulous research, analysis and consultation with international experts followed to authenticate and conserve the masterpiece.
After the discovery, Father Noel Barber played a pivotal role in the decision to place Caravaggio’s painting on indefinite loan to the Irish public from the Jesuit Community in Leeson Street, acknowledging the generosity of Dr Marie Lea-Wilson.
The Jesuits gave the painting on an indefinite loan to the National Gallery of Ireland, where it remains one of the most significant masterpieces on display and one of its most popular exhibits.
As Father Noel Barber said, it is ‘a strange thread of events’ that led to this magnificent painting finding its place on the wall of the National Gallery of Ireland.
The one-light window depicting Gideon by Joshua Clarke in Christ Church, Gorey … erected by Pericval Lea-Wilson’s colleagues and friends (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2022)
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