‘Grant me justice against my opponent’ (Luke 18: 3) … a painting by Una Heaton in a pub in Adare, Co Limerick (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Patrick Comerford
We are in the Kingdom Season, the time between All Saints and Advent, and tomorrow is the Second Sunday before Advent. The calendar of the Church of England in Common Worship today remembers Samuel Seabury (1729-1796), the first Anglican Bishop in North America.
Before today begins, I am taking some quiet time early this morning to give thanks, and for reflection, prayer and reading in these ways:
1, today’s Gospel reading;
2, a short reflection;
3, a prayer from the USPG prayer diary;
4, the Collects and Post-Communion prayer of the day.
There is an emphasis on justice in today’s Gospel reading … the scales of justice depicted on the Precentor’s Stall in Lichfield Cathedral (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Luke 18: 1-8 (NRSVA):
1 Then Jesus told them a parable about their need to pray always and not to lose heart. 2 He said, ‘In a certain city there was a judge who neither feared God nor had respect for people. 3 In that city there was a widow who kept coming to him and saying, “Grant me justice against my opponent.” 4 For a while he refused; but later he said to himself, “Though I have no fear of God and no respect for anyone, 5 yet because this widow keeps bothering me, I will grant her justice, so that she may not wear me out by continually coming”.’ 6 And the Lord said, ‘Listen to what the unjust judge says. 7 And will not God grant justice to his chosen ones who cry to him day and night? Will he delay long in helping them? 8 I tell you, he will quickly grant justice to them. And yet, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?’
‘Because this widow keeps bothering me, I will grant her justice’ (Luke 18: 5) … the sign at the Wig and Pen near the courthouse in Truro, Cornwall (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Today’s reflection:
The Gospel reading at the Eucharist this morning (Luke 18: 1-8) offers an opportunity to reflect on what we mean by law and justice. We read the well-known parable of the ‘Unjust Judge,’ a judge ‘who neither fears God nor has respect for people,’ and how he is forced to grant justice to a widow who keeps coming to him, saying, ‘Grant me justice against my opponent.’
Does the judge abandon his sense of impartiality when it comes to the administration of justice?
Or is he forced to realise the difference between what is legal and what is just, and the difference between justice and mercy?
We often know this parable as the ‘Parable of the Unjust Judge.’ But we might also call it the ‘Parable of the Persistent Widow,’ for we are told to take this woman and not the judge as our example: an example of how to pray to God, as opposed to an example of how to prey on people.
And yet, let us take some time first to look at the judge.
Are we asked to think of God behaving like an unjust or capricious judge?
Is this a judge who exercises his office without fear or favour?
Is justice about that?
Is justice about seeing that the law is enforced?
Or is it about seeing that justice is done, and is seen to be done?
How many judges implement the law without dispensing justice?
How many judges implement the law without dispensing mercy?
Is this not what happened in Nazi Germany, in apartheid South Africa, or in racist states in the American ‘Deep South’?
How many judges in Nazi Germany and apartheid South Africa merely applied the law?
Could a Jewish widow expect justice from a judge in Nazi Germany?
Could a black widow expect mercy from a judge in apartheid South Africa?
Could a woman whose family has been broken up by ICE and who is refused information about her husband’s whereabouts expect justice, mercy and the impartial application of the law in Trump’s America?
The woman in this parable is not asking for what is her legal right. She is not asking for her neighbour to be punished. But she may be asking for something she is not entitled to: justice.
When we find ourselves saying we cannot accept a judgmental God, is that because our image of a judge is of a distant figure who applies the full rigour of the law, rather than an accessible figure who dispenses justice and mercy?
Who are the chosen ones who cry to God day and night? (see verse 7)
Certainly, a widow would fall into that category at the time of Christ. She would have no man to argue her case for her, and so would go unheard. All other cases – commercial, civil and criminal – would take priority in the courts before her request to be heard.
Who is the widow in this story?
We might consider parallels between a people who have turned their back on God or whose covenantal relationship with God has died, and a woman whose covenantal relationship, her marriage, has come to an end with death, divorce or the end of love.
Without love, there is no covenant. Without love there is no true religion, and without love there is no true marriage.
A true relationship with God is marked by love – God’s love for us, our love for God, and our love for others. If that love is the foundation of our Christianity, then justice becomes more important than law, and mercy more important than rules, and God the Judge becomes a loving rather than a tyrannical image.
The Royal Courts of Justice in London (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Today’s Prayers (Saturday 14 November 2026):
In Pray with the World Church, the prayer diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), the theme this week, from 8 to 14 November 2026 (pp 54-55), is ‘Pray for COP31’. This theme was introduced last Sunday with a reflection by Sophia Jones, Interim Director of Communications, Engagement, and Fundraising, USPG.
The USPG Prayer Diary today (Saturday 14 November 2026) invites us to pray:
Creator God bless the work of the Anglican Communion Environmental Network as it empowers and inspires communities across the Anglican Communion.
The Collect of the Day:
Almighty Father,
whose will is to restore all things
in your beloved Son, the King of all:
govern the hearts and minds of those in authority,
and bring the families of the nations,
divided and torn apart by the ravages of sin,
to be subject to his just and gentle rule;
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.
Post Communion Prayer:
God of peace,
whose Son Jesus Christ proclaimed the kingdom
and restored the broken to wholeness of life:
look with compassion on the anguish of the world,
and by your healing power
make whole both people and nations;
through our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.
Additional Collect:
God, our refuge and strength,
bring near the day when wars shall cease
and poverty and pain shall end,
that earth may know the peace of heaven
through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Collect on the Eve of the Second Sunday before Advent:
Heavenly Father,
whose blessed Son was revealed
to destroy the works of the devil
and to make us the children of God and heirs of eternal life:
grant that we, having this hope,
may purify ourselves even as he is pure;
that when he shall appear in power and great glory
we may be made like him in his eternal and glorious kingdom;
where he is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.
Yesterday’s Reflections
Continued Tomorrow
Samuel Seabury in a stained-glass window in Saint Giles Church, Cambridge … he is remembered in Common Worship on 14 November (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
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
13 November 2026
Reading about Daniel in Babylon
and listening to Leonard Cohen’s
song ‘Last Year’s Man’ in Babylon
The Prophet Daniel … a fresco in the parish church in Piskopianó in Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Patrick Comerford
In my daily prayer diary each morning, I usually reflect on the Gospel readings in the lectionary at the Eucharist. However, throughout this week and last week, the lectionary readings at Morning Prayer have been from the Book of Daniel and the Book of Revelation.
Having visited Patmos once and tried, over the years, many of the sites of the seven churches named in the Book of Revelation – including Ephesus, Smyrna and Laodicea (the Pergamon Museum in Berlin hardly counts) – re-reading the book these days has been like a biblical tour of Asia Minor.
The books of Daniel and Revelation are paired these weeks because of their apocalyptic visions and themes in the Kingdom Season as we prepare for the Feast of Christ the King and for Advent.
The Book of Daniel is one of the few parts of the Hebrew Scriptures or Old Testament that includes, depending on which version of the Bible you are using, varying amounts of Koine Greek in the original text.
The first part of Daniel, Chapters 1-6, is written mostly in Biblical Aramaic. This part, with its six court tales, focuses on Daniel and his three friends, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, during their exile in Babylon under kings Nebuchadnezzar and Belshazzar. The episodes that are familiar to many include the fiery furnace, Belshazzar’s Feast, the writing on the wall, and Daniel being thrown into the lions’ den. Chapters 7-12, with their apocalyptic visions, feature symbolic dreams and visions of four vast empires, cosmic conflict, and the ultimate ushering in of God’s kingdom.
The chronological progression moves from Babylonian to Median rule in chapters 1-6, to Persian rule in chapters 7-12. The ram in Chapter 8 represents the Medes and the Persians, the goat is Greece, and the ‘little horn’ is a wicked king.
The book is written in a mixture of Hebrew, Biblical Aramaic and Koine Greek. But Daniel is not unique in its use of Greek. A number of Biblical books that are often described as Apocrypha or deuterocanonical were composed originally in Koine Greek between the third and first centuries BCE. They include: the Wisdom of Solomon, written in Greek in a style emulating Hebrew poetry; II Maccabees, originally in Greek with a distinct Hellenistic rhetorical style; the Letter of Jeremiah, often attached to Baruch; additions to Esther – the Greek version has about 104 additional verses and prayers written in Greek; and three chapters in Daniel found in the Septuagint but not in the Hebrew or Aramaic text, including the Prayer of Azariah, the Song of the Three Holy Children, Susanna, and Bel and the Dragon.
In addition, Sirach (Ecclesiasticus) was originally written in Hebrew ca 180 BCE by Ben Sira, then translated into Greek by his grandson around 132 BCE. Portions of Baruch may have a Semitic background, although the final form or sections circulated heavily in Greek.
Indeed, the traditional names used in English for almost the entire Old Testament come from the Greek titles in the Septuagint rather than their original Hebrew titles, including Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers and Deuteronomy.
The title Psalm and the word Psalms come from the Greek ψαλμός (psalmos), meaning a song sung to the accompaniment of a harp or stringed instrument. Psalmos was used in the Septuagint to translate the Hebrew word מִזְמוֹר (mizmor), which refers to a song accompanied by music, and in the Hebrew Bible the book is called Tehillim (תהילים), which means ‘Praises’.
Other books with popular names derived from their Greek titles in the Septuagint rather than the Hebrew titles include Chronicles and Lamentations.
Many of the Greek towns named on the Asia Minor memorial on Mikrasiaton Square in Rethymnon in Crete are towns named among the seven churches in the Book of Revelation (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
The New Testament – including the recorded words of Jesus – frequently reflects or quotes the Septuagint. In all, 340 places in the New Testament cite the Septuagint text, but only 33 places that cite from the Masoretic Text rather than the Septuagint. However, theologians and historians continue to debate whether Jesus directly quotes the Greek Septuagint or spoke in Hebrew and Aramaic which the Greek Gospel writers later translated or aligned with the text of the Septuagint.
Of course, some people ask about the use of the Septuagint by the New Testament authors because the Septuagint has the seven deuterocanonical books that are now omitted in Protestant Bibles. Showing that the New Testament authors quoted from the Septuagint might argue in favour of the inspiration of these seven books, although it does not in itself prove so.
The Jewish canon of scripture, the Tanakh or Hebrew Bible, comprises 24 authoritative books preserved primarily in the Masoretic Text. While the core collection took shape during and after the Second Temple period, the exact boundaries and text stabilisation evolved through rabbinic traditions culminating in the Masoretic standardisation between the seventh and tenth centuries CE.
On the other hand, the Early Church used the Septuagint, and the Church decided on the canon of the Bible in the fourth century CE, at the Council of Rome (382), the Synod of Hippo (393) and two of the Councils of Carthage (397, 419), and later at the Council of Florence (1431-1449). The Reformers who rejected the canon that had been accepted in the Church from the fourth century on rejected over 1,000 years of tradition because of their own views on a number of practices. It could be argued they allowed their own doctrines to shape Scripture rather than allowing Scripture to shape their doctrines.
The Prophet Daniel … an icon on the iconostasis in the Monastery of Arkadi near Rethymnon in Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Returning to the Greek text of Daniel, it is considerably longer than the Hebrew text due to the additional stories. They remain in Catholic and Orthodox versions, but were rejected by the Reformation movements in the 16th century, arguably because they were absent from the Hebrew Bible, despite Luther was respecter of Jews or Jewish tradition, but also because they support accepting concepts such as Purgatory and the ‘Holy Souls’ and practices such as praying for the dead.
The Prayer of Azariah and Song of the Three Holy Children are placed after Daniel 3: 23; the story of Susanna and the Elders is placed before chapter 1 in some Greek versions and after chapter 12 in others; the story of Bel and the Dragon is placed at the end of the book.
Daniel must be the prime candidate to be the patron of vegetarians for he and his companions in prison were given only vegetables to eat and water to drink yet ‘they appeared better and fatter than all the young men who had been eating the royal rations’. (Daniel 1: 11-17)
The Book of Daniel is preserved in the 12-chapter Masoretic Text and in two longer Greek versions, the original Septuagint version (ca 100 BCE), and the later Theodotion version from some time in the second century CE. Both Greek texts contain the three additions to Daniel. Theodotion is much closer to the Masoretic Text and replaced the original Septuagint version in all but two manuscripts of the Septuagint itself.
At least four words in Daniel 3 are derived from Greek: κιθάρα (cithara), σαμβύκη (sambuca), ψαλτήριον (psaltery) and συμφωνία (symphonia). Their use appears to support arguments for the late composition of the Book of Daniel. Although the events are set in the sixth century BCE during the Babylonian exile, proficiency in Greek was not widespread in the Near East before the Macedonian conquests in the 330s. Most scholars date the final form of the book to the second century BCE, ca 167 to 163 BCE, during the persecution of the Jews during the reign of Antiochus IV Epiphanes.
The text includes prophecy rooted in Jewish history as well as a portrayal of the end times that is cosmic in scope and political in focus. The message for the original readers is that just as the God of Israel saves Daniel from his enemies, so too God shall save the people in their present oppression.
The concepts of immortality and resurrection, with rewards for the righteous and punishment for the wicked, have roots much deeper than the Book of Daniel. Still, the earliest clear Biblical statement on these ideas appears in the final chapter: ‘Many of those who sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake, some to everlasting life, and some to shame and everlasting contempt’ (Daniel 12: 2). Interpreters of a more Protestant disposition are concerned that this text, and other passages they dismiss or ignore as apocryphal or deuterocanonical, can lead to arguments about such issues as Purgatory and prayer for or on behalf of the dead.
One of the readings earlier this week (Daniel 5: 1-12) described Belshazzar’s feast in which the king is arrayed clothed in purple, with a chain of gold around his neck. It reminds me of the parable of Dives and Lazarus (Luke 16: 19-31), in which the unnamed rich man is dressed in purple and fine linen as he feasts ‘sumptuously every day’, while Lazarus is a reworking of the role of Daniel and his three friends. Both Belshazzar and Dives die that very night.
The separation of the sheep and goats is also an apocalyptic image found in the Gospel on Sunday week, the Feast of Christ the King and the Sunday next before Advent (Matthew 25: 31-46).
During these weeks, as I read about Daniel’s captivity in Babylon, I have thought too of how the phrase ‘Great Babylon’ is heard in Leonard Cohen’s work, most notably in his song ‘Last Year’s Man’ in the album Songs of Love and Hate (1971), and connects with his recurring themes of exile, spirituality and biblical imagery. In the lyrics of ‘Last Year’s Man’, he sings:
I came upon a wedding that old families had contrived
Bethlehem the bridegroom, Babylon the bride
Great Babylon was naked, oh she stood there trembling for me
And Bethlehem inflamed us both like the shy one at some orgy
Cohen juxtaposes Bethlehem (representing spiritual tradition, the Messiah, or the sacred) with Babylon (representing worldly temptation, material exile, or the flesh) as an arranged union or tension in human experience.
Great Babylon stands exposed and vulnerable (‘naked … trembling for me’), capturing a classic Cohen mixture of the sacred and the profane.
There are other references to Babylon in Cohen’s songs and poetry. Where he draws on Biblical and Kabbalistic symbolism, as in Book of Mercy, Babylon serves as a metaphorical landscape for worldly confusion, mortality, and the human soul torn between divine longing and earthly enticement.
In his book Leonard Cohen: The Mystical Roots Of Genius (2021), Harry Freedman explores the folklore, legends and Bible stories that inspired Cohen in his work. He suggests one of the most intriguing aspects of Cohen’s songs is how much he used Bible stories and religious folklore in his lyrics.
Freedman says ‘Babylon features a lot in Cohen’s music’ and that ‘he uses it as a symbol of darkness, corruption and evil’. In ‘By the Rivers Dark’, on the album Ten New Songs (2001), Cohen draws heavily on Psalm 137 and the Babylonian captivity, symbolising spiritual exile, the threat of losing one’s cultural or religious identity, and finding oneself seduced or transformed by the darkness of Babylon.
The Ancient of Days … a fresco in the parish church in Piskopianó in Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
The morning cycle of readings from the Book of Daniel continues tomorrow (Daniel 7: 15-28). Daniel 7 opens the second half of the book, which presents four apocalyptic visions that recognise that the people of God experience oppression now and into the future but that at the end of time God will intervene to rescue them.
In the heavenly court, the Ancient of Days, who is God as judge (verse 9), gives an everlasting kingdom to one ‘like a son of man’, a term Jesus later applies to himself.
The writer admits at the end, ‘Here the account ends. As for me, Daniel, my thoughts greatly terrified me, and my face turned pale; but I kept the matter in my mind.’
Still, before that admission, the message is one of hope for global justice and peace:
The kingship and dominion
and the greatness of the kingdoms under the whole heaven
shall be given to the people of the holy ones of the Most High;
their kingdom shall be an everlasting kingdom,
and all dominions shall serve and obey them.’ (Daniel 7: 27)
‘Great Babylon was naked, oh she stood there trembling for me’ (Leonard Cohen, ‘Last Year’s Man’, 1971)
Patrick Comerford
In my daily prayer diary each morning, I usually reflect on the Gospel readings in the lectionary at the Eucharist. However, throughout this week and last week, the lectionary readings at Morning Prayer have been from the Book of Daniel and the Book of Revelation.
Having visited Patmos once and tried, over the years, many of the sites of the seven churches named in the Book of Revelation – including Ephesus, Smyrna and Laodicea (the Pergamon Museum in Berlin hardly counts) – re-reading the book these days has been like a biblical tour of Asia Minor.
The books of Daniel and Revelation are paired these weeks because of their apocalyptic visions and themes in the Kingdom Season as we prepare for the Feast of Christ the King and for Advent.
The Book of Daniel is one of the few parts of the Hebrew Scriptures or Old Testament that includes, depending on which version of the Bible you are using, varying amounts of Koine Greek in the original text.
The first part of Daniel, Chapters 1-6, is written mostly in Biblical Aramaic. This part, with its six court tales, focuses on Daniel and his three friends, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, during their exile in Babylon under kings Nebuchadnezzar and Belshazzar. The episodes that are familiar to many include the fiery furnace, Belshazzar’s Feast, the writing on the wall, and Daniel being thrown into the lions’ den. Chapters 7-12, with their apocalyptic visions, feature symbolic dreams and visions of four vast empires, cosmic conflict, and the ultimate ushering in of God’s kingdom.
The chronological progression moves from Babylonian to Median rule in chapters 1-6, to Persian rule in chapters 7-12. The ram in Chapter 8 represents the Medes and the Persians, the goat is Greece, and the ‘little horn’ is a wicked king.
The book is written in a mixture of Hebrew, Biblical Aramaic and Koine Greek. But Daniel is not unique in its use of Greek. A number of Biblical books that are often described as Apocrypha or deuterocanonical were composed originally in Koine Greek between the third and first centuries BCE. They include: the Wisdom of Solomon, written in Greek in a style emulating Hebrew poetry; II Maccabees, originally in Greek with a distinct Hellenistic rhetorical style; the Letter of Jeremiah, often attached to Baruch; additions to Esther – the Greek version has about 104 additional verses and prayers written in Greek; and three chapters in Daniel found in the Septuagint but not in the Hebrew or Aramaic text, including the Prayer of Azariah, the Song of the Three Holy Children, Susanna, and Bel and the Dragon.
In addition, Sirach (Ecclesiasticus) was originally written in Hebrew ca 180 BCE by Ben Sira, then translated into Greek by his grandson around 132 BCE. Portions of Baruch may have a Semitic background, although the final form or sections circulated heavily in Greek.
Indeed, the traditional names used in English for almost the entire Old Testament come from the Greek titles in the Septuagint rather than their original Hebrew titles, including Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers and Deuteronomy.
The title Psalm and the word Psalms come from the Greek ψαλμός (psalmos), meaning a song sung to the accompaniment of a harp or stringed instrument. Psalmos was used in the Septuagint to translate the Hebrew word מִזְמוֹר (mizmor), which refers to a song accompanied by music, and in the Hebrew Bible the book is called Tehillim (תהילים), which means ‘Praises’.
Other books with popular names derived from their Greek titles in the Septuagint rather than the Hebrew titles include Chronicles and Lamentations.
Many of the Greek towns named on the Asia Minor memorial on Mikrasiaton Square in Rethymnon in Crete are towns named among the seven churches in the Book of Revelation (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
The New Testament – including the recorded words of Jesus – frequently reflects or quotes the Septuagint. In all, 340 places in the New Testament cite the Septuagint text, but only 33 places that cite from the Masoretic Text rather than the Septuagint. However, theologians and historians continue to debate whether Jesus directly quotes the Greek Septuagint or spoke in Hebrew and Aramaic which the Greek Gospel writers later translated or aligned with the text of the Septuagint.
Of course, some people ask about the use of the Septuagint by the New Testament authors because the Septuagint has the seven deuterocanonical books that are now omitted in Protestant Bibles. Showing that the New Testament authors quoted from the Septuagint might argue in favour of the inspiration of these seven books, although it does not in itself prove so.
The Jewish canon of scripture, the Tanakh or Hebrew Bible, comprises 24 authoritative books preserved primarily in the Masoretic Text. While the core collection took shape during and after the Second Temple period, the exact boundaries and text stabilisation evolved through rabbinic traditions culminating in the Masoretic standardisation between the seventh and tenth centuries CE.
On the other hand, the Early Church used the Septuagint, and the Church decided on the canon of the Bible in the fourth century CE, at the Council of Rome (382), the Synod of Hippo (393) and two of the Councils of Carthage (397, 419), and later at the Council of Florence (1431-1449). The Reformers who rejected the canon that had been accepted in the Church from the fourth century on rejected over 1,000 years of tradition because of their own views on a number of practices. It could be argued they allowed their own doctrines to shape Scripture rather than allowing Scripture to shape their doctrines.
The Prophet Daniel … an icon on the iconostasis in the Monastery of Arkadi near Rethymnon in Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Returning to the Greek text of Daniel, it is considerably longer than the Hebrew text due to the additional stories. They remain in Catholic and Orthodox versions, but were rejected by the Reformation movements in the 16th century, arguably because they were absent from the Hebrew Bible, despite Luther was respecter of Jews or Jewish tradition, but also because they support accepting concepts such as Purgatory and the ‘Holy Souls’ and practices such as praying for the dead.
The Prayer of Azariah and Song of the Three Holy Children are placed after Daniel 3: 23; the story of Susanna and the Elders is placed before chapter 1 in some Greek versions and after chapter 12 in others; the story of Bel and the Dragon is placed at the end of the book.
Daniel must be the prime candidate to be the patron of vegetarians for he and his companions in prison were given only vegetables to eat and water to drink yet ‘they appeared better and fatter than all the young men who had been eating the royal rations’. (Daniel 1: 11-17)
The Book of Daniel is preserved in the 12-chapter Masoretic Text and in two longer Greek versions, the original Septuagint version (ca 100 BCE), and the later Theodotion version from some time in the second century CE. Both Greek texts contain the three additions to Daniel. Theodotion is much closer to the Masoretic Text and replaced the original Septuagint version in all but two manuscripts of the Septuagint itself.
At least four words in Daniel 3 are derived from Greek: κιθάρα (cithara), σαμβύκη (sambuca), ψαλτήριον (psaltery) and συμφωνία (symphonia). Their use appears to support arguments for the late composition of the Book of Daniel. Although the events are set in the sixth century BCE during the Babylonian exile, proficiency in Greek was not widespread in the Near East before the Macedonian conquests in the 330s. Most scholars date the final form of the book to the second century BCE, ca 167 to 163 BCE, during the persecution of the Jews during the reign of Antiochus IV Epiphanes.
The text includes prophecy rooted in Jewish history as well as a portrayal of the end times that is cosmic in scope and political in focus. The message for the original readers is that just as the God of Israel saves Daniel from his enemies, so too God shall save the people in their present oppression.
The concepts of immortality and resurrection, with rewards for the righteous and punishment for the wicked, have roots much deeper than the Book of Daniel. Still, the earliest clear Biblical statement on these ideas appears in the final chapter: ‘Many of those who sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake, some to everlasting life, and some to shame and everlasting contempt’ (Daniel 12: 2). Interpreters of a more Protestant disposition are concerned that this text, and other passages they dismiss or ignore as apocryphal or deuterocanonical, can lead to arguments about such issues as Purgatory and prayer for or on behalf of the dead.
One of the readings earlier this week (Daniel 5: 1-12) described Belshazzar’s feast in which the king is arrayed clothed in purple, with a chain of gold around his neck. It reminds me of the parable of Dives and Lazarus (Luke 16: 19-31), in which the unnamed rich man is dressed in purple and fine linen as he feasts ‘sumptuously every day’, while Lazarus is a reworking of the role of Daniel and his three friends. Both Belshazzar and Dives die that very night.
The separation of the sheep and goats is also an apocalyptic image found in the Gospel on Sunday week, the Feast of Christ the King and the Sunday next before Advent (Matthew 25: 31-46).
During these weeks, as I read about Daniel’s captivity in Babylon, I have thought too of how the phrase ‘Great Babylon’ is heard in Leonard Cohen’s work, most notably in his song ‘Last Year’s Man’ in the album Songs of Love and Hate (1971), and connects with his recurring themes of exile, spirituality and biblical imagery. In the lyrics of ‘Last Year’s Man’, he sings:
I came upon a wedding that old families had contrived
Bethlehem the bridegroom, Babylon the bride
Great Babylon was naked, oh she stood there trembling for me
And Bethlehem inflamed us both like the shy one at some orgy
Cohen juxtaposes Bethlehem (representing spiritual tradition, the Messiah, or the sacred) with Babylon (representing worldly temptation, material exile, or the flesh) as an arranged union or tension in human experience.
Great Babylon stands exposed and vulnerable (‘naked … trembling for me’), capturing a classic Cohen mixture of the sacred and the profane.
There are other references to Babylon in Cohen’s songs and poetry. Where he draws on Biblical and Kabbalistic symbolism, as in Book of Mercy, Babylon serves as a metaphorical landscape for worldly confusion, mortality, and the human soul torn between divine longing and earthly enticement.
In his book Leonard Cohen: The Mystical Roots Of Genius (2021), Harry Freedman explores the folklore, legends and Bible stories that inspired Cohen in his work. He suggests one of the most intriguing aspects of Cohen’s songs is how much he used Bible stories and religious folklore in his lyrics.
Freedman says ‘Babylon features a lot in Cohen’s music’ and that ‘he uses it as a symbol of darkness, corruption and evil’. In ‘By the Rivers Dark’, on the album Ten New Songs (2001), Cohen draws heavily on Psalm 137 and the Babylonian captivity, symbolising spiritual exile, the threat of losing one’s cultural or religious identity, and finding oneself seduced or transformed by the darkness of Babylon.
The Ancient of Days … a fresco in the parish church in Piskopianó in Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
The morning cycle of readings from the Book of Daniel continues tomorrow (Daniel 7: 15-28). Daniel 7 opens the second half of the book, which presents four apocalyptic visions that recognise that the people of God experience oppression now and into the future but that at the end of time God will intervene to rescue them.
In the heavenly court, the Ancient of Days, who is God as judge (verse 9), gives an everlasting kingdom to one ‘like a son of man’, a term Jesus later applies to himself.
The writer admits at the end, ‘Here the account ends. As for me, Daniel, my thoughts greatly terrified me, and my face turned pale; but I kept the matter in my mind.’
Still, before that admission, the message is one of hope for global justice and peace:
The kingship and dominion
and the greatness of the kingdoms under the whole heaven
shall be given to the people of the holy ones of the Most High;
their kingdom shall be an everlasting kingdom,
and all dominions shall serve and obey them.’ (Daniel 7: 27)
‘Great Babylon was naked, oh she stood there trembling for me’ (Leonard Cohen, ‘Last Year’s Man’, 1971)
Daily prayer in the Kingdom Season 2026:
13, Friday 13 November 2026
‘On that day, anyone on the housetop who has belongings in the house must not come down to take them away’ (Luke 17: 31) … the rooftops of Saint Mark’s Basilica and Venice (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Patrick Comerford
We are in the Kingdom Season, the time between All Saints and Advent, and this week began with the Third Sunday before Advent, which was also Remembrance Sunday. The Calendar of the Church of England in Common Worship today (13 November) remembers Charles Simeon (1759-1836), Priest and Evangelical Divine.
Before today begins, I am taking some quiet time early this morning to give thanks, and for reflection, prayer and reading in these ways:
1, today’s Gospel reading;
2, a short reflection;
3, a prayer from the USPG prayer diary;
4, the Collects and Post-Communion prayer of the day.
‘Likewise anyone in the field must not turn back’ (Luke 17: 31) … winter fields along Cross in Hand Lane, Lichfield (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Luke 17: 26-37 (NRSVA):
[Jesus said:] 26 ‘Just as it was in the days of Noah, so too it will be in the days of the Son of Man. 27 They were eating and drinking, and marrying and being given in marriage, until the day Noah entered the ark, and the flood came and destroyed all of them. 28 Likewise, just as it was in the days of Lot: they were eating and drinking, buying and selling, planting and building, 29 but on the day that Lot left Sodom, it rained fire and sulphur from heaven and destroyed all of them 30 – it will be like that on the day that the Son of Man is revealed. 31 On that day, anyone on the housetop who has belongings in the house must not come down to take them away; and likewise anyone in the field must not turn back. 32 Remember Lot’s wife. 33 Those who try to make their life secure will lose it, but those who lose their life will keep it. 34 I tell you, on that night there will be two in one bed; one will be taken and the other left. 35 There will be two women grinding meal together; one will be taken and the other left.’ 37 Then they asked him, ‘Where, Lord?’ He said to them, ‘Where the corpse is, there the vultures will gather.’
‘Just as it was in the days of Noah, so too it will be in the days of the Son of Man’ (Luke 17: 26) … ‘Noah and the Dove’ (2006), a sculpture by Simon Manby in the courtyard of Saint John’s Hospital, Lichfield (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Today’s reflection:
The Gospel reading at the Eucharist today (Luke 17: 26-37) is one of the stories about preparing for the kingdom of God and the arrival of the Son of God on earth, not only as the incarnate Christ Child at Christmas in nativity story or in a decorative crib, but also as Christ the King.
As we prepare in this Kingdom Season for the Feast of Christ the King in nine days’ time (Sunday 22 November 2026) and for Advent, beginning a week later, we should expect many of our readings to have apocalyptic themes, looking forward to that Coming of Christ the King at his second coming.
The apocalyptic images in today’s Gospel reading anticipate some of these themes, looking back at unexpected terrors in the past and with apocalyptic warnings about what the future may hold.
TS Eliot’s poem East Coker, the second of his Four Quartets, is set in late November and ends:
In my end is my beginning.
But it opens:
In my beginning is my end.
The radical author, professor, preacher and peace activist, the Revd Robin Meyers, once described by the late Archbishop Desmond Tutu as ‘scholarly, pastoral, prophetic, and eloquent,’ has written: ‘Life itself passes daily judgment on the idea that [God is in control], that good deeds and righteous living exempt us from mindless tragedy, or that the meek will inherit anything other than a crushing debt and a dead planet.’
But in a sermon some years ago in the First [Congregational] Church in Harvard Square, Cambridge, Massachusetts, on the First Sunday of Advent, his former colleague, the church historian, the Revd Dr J Mary Luti, then a professor at Andover Newton Theological School (now Andover Newton Seminary at Yale), responded: ‘Nonetheless, and hoping against hope, today’s scriptures emphatically encourage us to stand firm, to refuse to throw in the towel. God really is in charge, they assert, and one day you won’t have to take that on faith.’
She says: ‘Advent intends to make a pre-emptive strike on despair as the Church sets out on another year of following Christ from manger to grave, and beyond.’
As we approach Advent, we find ourselves in a unique position, standing both at the beginning and at the end, at the turning-point of the liturgical year. This peculiar experience of living within a paradox is a characteristic of the Christian faith. However, perhaps the greatest paradox of Advent, we shall find, is the tension between the joyous anticipation of the birth of Jesus and the inevitability of the cross.
In a true sense, Advent does not end at Christmas. The nativity, the Incarnation, cannot be separated from the crucifixion, the Atonement and the Resurrection. The purpose of Christ’s coming into the world, of the ‘Word made flesh’ and dwelling among us, is to reveal God and his grace to the world through Jesus’ life and teaching, but also through his suffering, death, and resurrection.
So, at the beginning of things, we think about the end of things. The Gospel reading today reflects this emphasis on Christ’s second coming and include themes of accountability, judgment, but also prompts us to renew our hope of eternal life. In the words of TS Eliot,
What we call the beginning is often the end
and to make an end is to make a beginning.
The end is where we start from. (TS Eliot, Little Gidding)
‘I tell you, on that night there will be two in one bed; one will be taken and the other left’ (Luke 17: 34) … a corner bedroom in Ballybur Castle, once the home of the Comerford family in Co Kilkenny (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Today’s Prayers (Friday 13 November 2026):
In Pray with the World Church, the prayer diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), the theme this week, from 8 to 14 November 2026 (pp 54-55), is ‘Pray for COP31’. This theme was introduced on Sunday with a reflection by Sophia Jones, Interim Director of Communications, Engagement, and Fundraising, USPG.
The USPG Prayer Diary today (Friday 13 November 2026) invites us to pray:
God of peace, still the noise of war. Heal our world. Bring peace where there is conflict, hope where there is fear, unity where there is division. Teach us to live as one.
The Collect of the Day:
Eternal God,
who raised up Charles Simeon
to preach the good news of Jesus Christ
and inspire your people in service and mission:
grant that we with all your Church may worship the Saviour,
turn in sorrow from our sins and walk in the way of holiness;
through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord,
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.
The Post-Communion Prayer:
God, shepherd of your people,
whose servant Charles Simeon revealed the loving service of Christ
in his ministry as a pastor of your people:
by this eucharist in which we share
awaken within us the love of Christ
and keep us faithful to our Christian calling;
through him who laid down his life for us,
but is alive and reigns with you, now and for ever.
Yesterday’s Reflections
Continued Tomorrow
‘On that day, anyone on the housetop who has belongings in the house must not come down to take them away’ (Luke 17: 31) … the rooftops of Main Street and High Street in Wexford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
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
Patrick Comerford
We are in the Kingdom Season, the time between All Saints and Advent, and this week began with the Third Sunday before Advent, which was also Remembrance Sunday. The Calendar of the Church of England in Common Worship today (13 November) remembers Charles Simeon (1759-1836), Priest and Evangelical Divine.
Before today begins, I am taking some quiet time early this morning to give thanks, and for reflection, prayer and reading in these ways:
1, today’s Gospel reading;
2, a short reflection;
3, a prayer from the USPG prayer diary;
4, the Collects and Post-Communion prayer of the day.
‘Likewise anyone in the field must not turn back’ (Luke 17: 31) … winter fields along Cross in Hand Lane, Lichfield (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Luke 17: 26-37 (NRSVA):
[Jesus said:] 26 ‘Just as it was in the days of Noah, so too it will be in the days of the Son of Man. 27 They were eating and drinking, and marrying and being given in marriage, until the day Noah entered the ark, and the flood came and destroyed all of them. 28 Likewise, just as it was in the days of Lot: they were eating and drinking, buying and selling, planting and building, 29 but on the day that Lot left Sodom, it rained fire and sulphur from heaven and destroyed all of them 30 – it will be like that on the day that the Son of Man is revealed. 31 On that day, anyone on the housetop who has belongings in the house must not come down to take them away; and likewise anyone in the field must not turn back. 32 Remember Lot’s wife. 33 Those who try to make their life secure will lose it, but those who lose their life will keep it. 34 I tell you, on that night there will be two in one bed; one will be taken and the other left. 35 There will be two women grinding meal together; one will be taken and the other left.’ 37 Then they asked him, ‘Where, Lord?’ He said to them, ‘Where the corpse is, there the vultures will gather.’
‘Just as it was in the days of Noah, so too it will be in the days of the Son of Man’ (Luke 17: 26) … ‘Noah and the Dove’ (2006), a sculpture by Simon Manby in the courtyard of Saint John’s Hospital, Lichfield (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Today’s reflection:
The Gospel reading at the Eucharist today (Luke 17: 26-37) is one of the stories about preparing for the kingdom of God and the arrival of the Son of God on earth, not only as the incarnate Christ Child at Christmas in nativity story or in a decorative crib, but also as Christ the King.
As we prepare in this Kingdom Season for the Feast of Christ the King in nine days’ time (Sunday 22 November 2026) and for Advent, beginning a week later, we should expect many of our readings to have apocalyptic themes, looking forward to that Coming of Christ the King at his second coming.
The apocalyptic images in today’s Gospel reading anticipate some of these themes, looking back at unexpected terrors in the past and with apocalyptic warnings about what the future may hold.
TS Eliot’s poem East Coker, the second of his Four Quartets, is set in late November and ends:
In my end is my beginning.
But it opens:
In my beginning is my end.
The radical author, professor, preacher and peace activist, the Revd Robin Meyers, once described by the late Archbishop Desmond Tutu as ‘scholarly, pastoral, prophetic, and eloquent,’ has written: ‘Life itself passes daily judgment on the idea that [God is in control], that good deeds and righteous living exempt us from mindless tragedy, or that the meek will inherit anything other than a crushing debt and a dead planet.’
But in a sermon some years ago in the First [Congregational] Church in Harvard Square, Cambridge, Massachusetts, on the First Sunday of Advent, his former colleague, the church historian, the Revd Dr J Mary Luti, then a professor at Andover Newton Theological School (now Andover Newton Seminary at Yale), responded: ‘Nonetheless, and hoping against hope, today’s scriptures emphatically encourage us to stand firm, to refuse to throw in the towel. God really is in charge, they assert, and one day you won’t have to take that on faith.’
She says: ‘Advent intends to make a pre-emptive strike on despair as the Church sets out on another year of following Christ from manger to grave, and beyond.’
As we approach Advent, we find ourselves in a unique position, standing both at the beginning and at the end, at the turning-point of the liturgical year. This peculiar experience of living within a paradox is a characteristic of the Christian faith. However, perhaps the greatest paradox of Advent, we shall find, is the tension between the joyous anticipation of the birth of Jesus and the inevitability of the cross.
In a true sense, Advent does not end at Christmas. The nativity, the Incarnation, cannot be separated from the crucifixion, the Atonement and the Resurrection. The purpose of Christ’s coming into the world, of the ‘Word made flesh’ and dwelling among us, is to reveal God and his grace to the world through Jesus’ life and teaching, but also through his suffering, death, and resurrection.
So, at the beginning of things, we think about the end of things. The Gospel reading today reflects this emphasis on Christ’s second coming and include themes of accountability, judgment, but also prompts us to renew our hope of eternal life. In the words of TS Eliot,
What we call the beginning is often the end
and to make an end is to make a beginning.
The end is where we start from. (TS Eliot, Little Gidding)
‘I tell you, on that night there will be two in one bed; one will be taken and the other left’ (Luke 17: 34) … a corner bedroom in Ballybur Castle, once the home of the Comerford family in Co Kilkenny (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Today’s Prayers (Friday 13 November 2026):
In Pray with the World Church, the prayer diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), the theme this week, from 8 to 14 November 2026 (pp 54-55), is ‘Pray for COP31’. This theme was introduced on Sunday with a reflection by Sophia Jones, Interim Director of Communications, Engagement, and Fundraising, USPG.
The USPG Prayer Diary today (Friday 13 November 2026) invites us to pray:
God of peace, still the noise of war. Heal our world. Bring peace where there is conflict, hope where there is fear, unity where there is division. Teach us to live as one.
The Collect of the Day:
Eternal God,
who raised up Charles Simeon
to preach the good news of Jesus Christ
and inspire your people in service and mission:
grant that we with all your Church may worship the Saviour,
turn in sorrow from our sins and walk in the way of holiness;
through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord,
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.
The Post-Communion Prayer:
God, shepherd of your people,
whose servant Charles Simeon revealed the loving service of Christ
in his ministry as a pastor of your people:
by this eucharist in which we share
awaken within us the love of Christ
and keep us faithful to our Christian calling;
through him who laid down his life for us,
but is alive and reigns with you, now and for ever.
Yesterday’s Reflections
Continued Tomorrow
‘On that day, anyone on the housetop who has belongings in the house must not come down to take them away’ (Luke 17: 31) … the rooftops of Main Street and High Street in Wexford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
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
12 November 2026
A half-hidden memorial
in Stony Stratford recalls
an 18th century vicar and
a Cambridge theologian
The mural to Canon Leonard Sedgwick beneath the tower in Saint Mary and Saint Giles Church, Stony Stratford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2026)
Patrick Comerford
I imagine few parishioners in Stony Stratford give even a fleeting glance to the 18th century memorial tablet on the wall beneath the tower in Saint Mary and Saint Giles Church commemorating a former vicar, Canon Leonard Sedgwick, who died in 1747, and erected by his son, the Revd William Sedgwick, a leading theologian and academic in Cambridge in the mid-18th century.
The bulging tablet was once at the east end of the south aisle, but is now on the south wall in the tower, almost hidden in a corner behind the entrance door. It is one of the few memorials to have survived in the disastrous fire in the church on 26 December 1964, and its wording paints a picture of a pious vicar who had a large family and exercised a lengthy ministry:
Near this place
rest the Remains
of the Reverend Leonard Sedgwick MA,
above 43 Years Minister of the Town.
He was likewise Rector of Thornton and Prebendary of Lincoln
Whilst his Health & Strength would permit
he was faithfull & diligent in the Discharge
of all the branches of his Pastoral Office:
He was charitable to the poor, affable & friendly to all
for which reasons he lived beloved & esteemed
by his Parishioners.
In the Relations of private Life, he was a dutifull Son,
an affectionate Brother, a most tender Husband,
and properly indulgent Parent.
By his wife Elizabeth
(a Woman of great Piety & many Virtues) he had nine Sons and four
Daughters all who (one excepted) died in his Life time without issue.
It pleased God to call him to the Reward of his Labours
April ye 17th in ye Year of our Lord 1747. his age 74.
The only surviving Son William B.D. Master
of Queens’ College in Cambridge erects this Monument
in testimony of his Piety & Gratitude
to the Memory of so good a Father.
Sedgwick appears to have been the son of the Revd Thomas Sedgwick, who was educated at Saint John’s College, Cambridge, and the Vicar of Church Brampton, Northamptonshire. The family originally came from Dent in West Yorkshire.
Leonard Sedgwick was probably educated at Cambridge, and was the Perpetual Curate or Vicar of Stony Stratford, Buckinghamshire, from 1703, Rector of Thornton, near Buckingham, from 1710 and Prebendary of Moreton and Whaddon in the Chapter of Lincoln Cathedral from 1728 until he died 1747.
The Mathematical Bridge at Queens’ College, Cambridge … William Sedgwick was the President of Queens’ College in 1732-1760 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Three of Sedgwick’s sons – Charles, Thomas and William – were educated at Cambridge and were ordained in the Church of England, and one was a prominent Cambridge theologian and academic in his day.
The Revd Charles Sedgwick went from Eton to King’s College, Cambridge, as a scholar in 1715 and graduated BA (1720) and MA (1723), and became a Fellow of King’s College in 1719. He was ordained deacon in the Diocese of London in 1721 and priest in the Diocese of Norwich in 1722. But he died in London in December 1723, while his father was still living in Stony Stratford.
The Revd Thomas Sedgwick studied at Queens’ College, Cambridge, from 1724 and graduated BA (1728) and MA (1731). He was ordained deacon in the Diocese of Lincoln in 1730, and priest on Christmas Eve 24 December 1732. He was the curate in Cranfield, Bedfordshire , in 1731, but appears to have died while his father was still alive.
The Revd William Sedgwick, who erected the monument to his father that is now below the tower in Saint Mary and Saint Giles Church, Stony Stratford, also went to Eton before studying at Queens’ College, Cambridge, from 1718. He graduated BA (1722), MA (1725) and BD (1732), and was a Fellow of Queens’ College from 1723 until he died in 1760.
William Sedgwick was ordained deacon by the Bishop of Ely in 1724 and priest in 1726. He was Dean of Chapel and Catechist in Queens’ College. The unusual title of one of the post held by William Sedgwick was that of Censor Philosophicus (Censor of Philosophy), an academic and administrative office at Queens’ College in the 17th and 18th centuries. The role was not a ‘censor’ in the modern sense of suppressing information; instead, the censor acted as a college examiner and moderator of philosophical disputes and educational instruction.
The position was an internal college office that typically rotated among the Fellowship on an annual basis. It was often held alongside other specialised titles such as Censor Theologicus (Censor of Theology), Hebrew Lecturer, Dean of Chapel, and Bursar. The primary duties involved mentoring undergraduate students, overseeing their progress in the classical curriculum, and ensuring the logical and academic rigour of philosophical disputations.
Several influential theologians and scholars held the office, including John Smith (1618-1652), a prominent Cambridge Platonist and mathematician who held the office in 1644. His philosophical teachings heavily integrated the works of René Descartes into the university curriculum.
Anthony Sparrow (1612-1685), a prominent theologian, was Censor Philosophicus in 1642-1643. He was also Dean and Bursar before being ejected during the Parliamentarian purges. After the Restoration he was President of the College until 1667 and Vice-Chancellor of the university in 1664-1665. He eventually became Bishop of Exeter and then Bishop of Norwich.
William Sedgwick went on to become the President of Queens’ College in 1732-1760. The monument in Stony Stratford incorrectly refers to him as the Master, and the heads of most colleges are called masters, but the head of Queens’ has been called the president since 1448. William Sedgwick was the Vice-Chancellor of Cambridge University in 1741-1742, while his father was still living in Stony Stratford. During those years he was also the Vicar of Oakington, Cambridgeshire, and the Rector of Saint Clement’s, Eastcheap, in London (1738-1760). He died on 4 November 1760.
The monument to Canon Leonard Sedgwick is almost hidden in a corner behind the door into Saint Mary and Saint Giles Church, Stony Stratford. But had it not survived the fire in 1964 and been placed there, I might not have been reminded of these Cambridge theologians in the mid 18th century.
William Sedgwick was President of Queens’ College, Cambridge, for almost 30 years and Vice-Chancellor of Cambridge University
Patrick Comerford
I imagine few parishioners in Stony Stratford give even a fleeting glance to the 18th century memorial tablet on the wall beneath the tower in Saint Mary and Saint Giles Church commemorating a former vicar, Canon Leonard Sedgwick, who died in 1747, and erected by his son, the Revd William Sedgwick, a leading theologian and academic in Cambridge in the mid-18th century.
The bulging tablet was once at the east end of the south aisle, but is now on the south wall in the tower, almost hidden in a corner behind the entrance door. It is one of the few memorials to have survived in the disastrous fire in the church on 26 December 1964, and its wording paints a picture of a pious vicar who had a large family and exercised a lengthy ministry:
Near this place
rest the Remains
of the Reverend Leonard Sedgwick MA,
above 43 Years Minister of the Town.
He was likewise Rector of Thornton and Prebendary of Lincoln
Whilst his Health & Strength would permit
he was faithfull & diligent in the Discharge
of all the branches of his Pastoral Office:
He was charitable to the poor, affable & friendly to all
for which reasons he lived beloved & esteemed
by his Parishioners.
In the Relations of private Life, he was a dutifull Son,
an affectionate Brother, a most tender Husband,
and properly indulgent Parent.
By his wife Elizabeth
(a Woman of great Piety & many Virtues) he had nine Sons and four
Daughters all who (one excepted) died in his Life time without issue.
It pleased God to call him to the Reward of his Labours
April ye 17th in ye Year of our Lord 1747. his age 74.
The only surviving Son William B.D. Master
of Queens’ College in Cambridge erects this Monument
in testimony of his Piety & Gratitude
to the Memory of so good a Father.
Sedgwick appears to have been the son of the Revd Thomas Sedgwick, who was educated at Saint John’s College, Cambridge, and the Vicar of Church Brampton, Northamptonshire. The family originally came from Dent in West Yorkshire.
Leonard Sedgwick was probably educated at Cambridge, and was the Perpetual Curate or Vicar of Stony Stratford, Buckinghamshire, from 1703, Rector of Thornton, near Buckingham, from 1710 and Prebendary of Moreton and Whaddon in the Chapter of Lincoln Cathedral from 1728 until he died 1747.
Three of Sedgwick’s sons – Charles, Thomas and William – were educated at Cambridge and were ordained in the Church of England, and one was a prominent Cambridge theologian and academic in his day.
The Revd Charles Sedgwick went from Eton to King’s College, Cambridge, as a scholar in 1715 and graduated BA (1720) and MA (1723), and became a Fellow of King’s College in 1719. He was ordained deacon in the Diocese of London in 1721 and priest in the Diocese of Norwich in 1722. But he died in London in December 1723, while his father was still living in Stony Stratford.
The Revd Thomas Sedgwick studied at Queens’ College, Cambridge, from 1724 and graduated BA (1728) and MA (1731). He was ordained deacon in the Diocese of Lincoln in 1730, and priest on Christmas Eve 24 December 1732. He was the curate in Cranfield, Bedfordshire , in 1731, but appears to have died while his father was still alive.
The Revd William Sedgwick, who erected the monument to his father that is now below the tower in Saint Mary and Saint Giles Church, Stony Stratford, also went to Eton before studying at Queens’ College, Cambridge, from 1718. He graduated BA (1722), MA (1725) and BD (1732), and was a Fellow of Queens’ College from 1723 until he died in 1760.
William Sedgwick was ordained deacon by the Bishop of Ely in 1724 and priest in 1726. He was Dean of Chapel and Catechist in Queens’ College. The unusual title of one of the post held by William Sedgwick was that of Censor Philosophicus (Censor of Philosophy), an academic and administrative office at Queens’ College in the 17th and 18th centuries. The role was not a ‘censor’ in the modern sense of suppressing information; instead, the censor acted as a college examiner and moderator of philosophical disputes and educational instruction.
The position was an internal college office that typically rotated among the Fellowship on an annual basis. It was often held alongside other specialised titles such as Censor Theologicus (Censor of Theology), Hebrew Lecturer, Dean of Chapel, and Bursar. The primary duties involved mentoring undergraduate students, overseeing their progress in the classical curriculum, and ensuring the logical and academic rigour of philosophical disputations.
Several influential theologians and scholars held the office, including John Smith (1618-1652), a prominent Cambridge Platonist and mathematician who held the office in 1644. His philosophical teachings heavily integrated the works of René Descartes into the university curriculum.
Anthony Sparrow (1612-1685), a prominent theologian, was Censor Philosophicus in 1642-1643. He was also Dean and Bursar before being ejected during the Parliamentarian purges. After the Restoration he was President of the College until 1667 and Vice-Chancellor of the university in 1664-1665. He eventually became Bishop of Exeter and then Bishop of Norwich.
William Sedgwick went on to become the President of Queens’ College in 1732-1760. The monument in Stony Stratford incorrectly refers to him as the Master, and the heads of most colleges are called masters, but the head of Queens’ has been called the president since 1448. William Sedgwick was the Vice-Chancellor of Cambridge University in 1741-1742, while his father was still living in Stony Stratford. During those years he was also the Vicar of Oakington, Cambridgeshire, and the Rector of Saint Clement’s, Eastcheap, in London (1738-1760). He died on 4 November 1760.
The monument to Canon Leonard Sedgwick is almost hidden in a corner behind the door into Saint Mary and Saint Giles Church, Stony Stratford. But had it not survived the fire in 1964 and been placed there, I might not have been reminded of these Cambridge theologians in the mid 18th century.
William Sedgwick was President of Queens’ College, Cambridge, for almost 30 years and Vice-Chancellor of Cambridge University
Daily prayer in the Kingdom Season 2026:
12, Thursday 12 November 2026
‘The kingdom of God is not coming with things that can be observed … in fact, the kingdom of God is among you’ (Luke 17: 20-21) … a November setting sun at Burano in the Venetian Lagoon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Patrick Comerford
We are in the Kingdom Season, the time between All Saints and Advent, and this week began with the Third Sunday before Advent, which was also Remembrance Sunday (8 November 2026).
Before today begins, before having breakfast or that swim, I am taking some quiet time early this morning to give thanks, and for reflection, prayer and reading in these ways:
1, today’s Gospel reading;
2, a short reflection;
3, a prayer from the USPG prayer diary;
4, the Collects and Post-Communion prayer of the day.
‘For as the lightning flashes and lights up the sky from one side to the other, so will the Son of Man be in his day’ (Luke 17: 24) … lightning on the Parthenon in Athens (Photograph: courtesy Tripadvisor)
Luke 17: 20-25 (NRSVA):
20 Once Jesus was asked by the Pharisees when the kingdom of God was coming, and he answered, ‘The kingdom of God is not coming with things that can be observed; 21 nor will they say, “Look, here it is!” or “There it is!” For, in fact, the kingdom of God is among you.’
22 Then he said to the disciples, ‘The days are coming when you will long to see one of the days of the Son of Man, and you will not see it. 23 They will say to you, “Look there!” or “Look here!” Do not go, do not set off in pursuit. 24 For as the lightning flashes and lights up the sky from one side to the other, so will the Son of Man be in his day. 25 But first he must endure much suffering and be rejected by this generation.’
The chapel in Magdalen College, Oxford … waiting for the son of God? John Betjeman was an undergraduate, and CS Lewis was his tutor (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Today’s reflection:
The English Poet Laureate John Betjeman loved to tell the story of a Japanese prince who arrived at Magdalen College, Oxford, as an undergraduate in 1925, the same year as Betjeman came up.
The President of Magdalen College, Sir Thomas Herbert Warren (1853-1930), was known as a poet too, albeit a bad poet despite being Professor of Poetry at Oxford. He was also an insufferable snob, and Jeremy Paxman says he ‘was perhaps the greatest snob in England.’
When Prince Chichibu arrived at Magdalen in 1925, Warren hoped he would soon be followed by his elder brother, the future Emperor Hirohito. The prince told Warren he was a direct descendant of the sun goddess Ametarasu, and let him know: ‘At home I am called the son of God.’
Warren took a deep breath, coughed and put the prince in his place: ‘You will find, your highness, that we have the sons of many famous fathers here.’
The Gospel reading at the Eucharist today (Luke 17: 20-25) is one of the stories about preparing for the kingdom of God and the arrival of the Son of God on earth, not only as the incarnate Christ Child at Christmas in nativity story or in a decorative crib, but also as Christ the King.
As we prepare for the Feast of Christ the King in ten days’ time (Sunday 22 November) and for Advent, we should expect many of our readings to have apocalyptic themes, looking forward to that Coming of Christ the King at his second coming.
The apocalyptic images in today’s reading anticipate some of these themes. But, perhaps surprisingly, today’s reading cautions us against looking for too many portents or for inappropriate signs, telling us instead to live in the real world: ‘The kingdom of God is not coming with things that can be observed … For, in fact, the kingdom of God is among you’ (Luke 17: 20-21).
But, as we prepare for the coming of Christ, are we trapped?
Are we trapped in the commercialism of Christmas?
There are 12 days of Christmas. But not one of them is in November. Yet for many weeks now, we have been inundated with Christmas catalogues and advertising, mince pies that are out of date even before the beginning of December, and invitations to book Christmas dinners or book tickets for Christmas shows. Already, here in Stony Stratford, the Christmas lights went up in the High Street on Sunday morning and many of the shops are displaying bright Christmas decorations.
Does the decoration of our shops, our streets, even of our churches, lead our eyes to the coming Christ or away from him?
To return to John Betjeman: he spent time in Dublin during World War II as the British press attaché, and was an active parishioner in Saint John’s, Clondalkin. In a lecture to Church of Ireland clergy in 1943, he said the ‘fabric of the church is very much concerned with worship. The decoration of a church can lead the eye to God or away from him.’
Betjeman’s poems are often humorous, with a wry, comic verse often marked by satire. He is one of the most significant literary figures of our time and was a practising Anglican, and his beliefs and piety inform many of his poems.
It is appropriate then, this morning, to re-read Betjeman’s poem ‘Christmas.’ In the first few verses, he describes the frivolous ways we prepare for Christmas:
The bells of waiting Advent ring,
The Tortoise stove is lit again
And lamp-oil light across the night
Has caught the streaks of winter rain
In many a stained-glass window sheen
From Crimson Lake to Hookers Green.
The holly in the windy hedge
And round the Manor House the yew
Will soon be stripped to deck the ledge,
The altar, font and arch and pew,
So that the villagers can say
‘The church looks nice’ on Christmas Day.
Provincial Public Houses blaze,
Corporation tramcars clang,
On lighted tenements I gaze,
Where paper decorations hang,
And bunting in the red Town Hall
Says ‘Merry Christmas to you all’.
And London shops on Christmas Eve
Are strung with silver bells and flowers
As hurrying clerks the City leave
To pigeon-haunted classic towers,
And marbled clouds go scudding by
The many-steepled London sky.
And girls in slacks remember Dad,
And oafish louts remember Mum,
And sleepless children’s hearts are glad.
And Christmas-morning bells say ‘Come!’
Even to shining ones who dwell
Safe in the Dorchester Hotel.
And then, in the last three stanzas of this poem, Betjeman proclaims the wonder of Christ’s birth in the form of a question: ‘And is it true …?’
And is it true, This most tremendous tale of all,
Seen in a stained-glass window’s hue,
A Baby in an ox’s stall?
The Maker of the stars and sea
Become a Child on earth for me?
And is it true? For if it is,
No loving fingers tying strings
Around those tissued fripperies,
The sweet and silly Christmas things,
Bath salts and inexpensive scent
And hideous tie so kindly meant,
No love that in a family dwells,
No carolling in frosty air,
Nor all the steeple-shaking bells
Can with this single Truth compare –
That God was man in Palestine
And lives today in Bread and Wine.
‘God was man in Palestine / And lives today in Bread and Wine’ (John Betjeman) … communion vessels at the Eucharist (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Today’s Prayers (Thursday 12 November 2026):
In Pray with the World Church, the prayer diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), the theme this week, from 8 to 14 November 2026 (pp 54-55), is ‘Pray for COP31’. This theme was introduced on Sunday with a reflection by Sophia Jones, Interim Director of Communications, Engagement, and Fundraising, USPG.
The USPG Prayer Diary today (Thursday 12 November 2026) invites us to pray:
Loving God, we lift before you places in the world where rising seas, drought, and storms threaten homes, livelihoods, and places of worship. Strengthen your Church in these lands; grant resilience to communities, wisdom to leaders and hope that endures through every trial.
The Collect of the Day:
Almighty Father,
whose will is to restore all things
in your beloved Son, the King of all:
govern the hearts and minds of those in authority,
and bring the families of the nations,
divided and torn apart by the ravages of sin,
to be subject to his just and gentle rule;
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.
The Post-Communion Prayer:
God of peace,
whose Son Jesus Christ proclaimed the kingdom
and restored the broken to wholeness of life:
look with compassion on the anguish of the world,
and by your healing power
make whole both people and nations;
through our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.
Additional Collect:
God, our refuge and strength,
bring near the day when wars shall cease
and poverty and pain shall end,
that earth may know the peace of heaven
through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Yesterday’s Reflections
Continued Tomorrow
‘For as the lightning flashes and lights up the sky from one side to the other, so will the Son of Man be in his day’ (Luke 17: 24) … fading lights at Punta Sabbioni, where the Venetian Lagoon meets the Adriatic Sea (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
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
Patrick Comerford
We are in the Kingdom Season, the time between All Saints and Advent, and this week began with the Third Sunday before Advent, which was also Remembrance Sunday (8 November 2026).
Before today begins, before having breakfast or that swim, I am taking some quiet time early this morning to give thanks, and for reflection, prayer and reading in these ways:
1, today’s Gospel reading;
2, a short reflection;
3, a prayer from the USPG prayer diary;
4, the Collects and Post-Communion prayer of the day.
‘For as the lightning flashes and lights up the sky from one side to the other, so will the Son of Man be in his day’ (Luke 17: 24) … lightning on the Parthenon in Athens (Photograph: courtesy Tripadvisor)
Luke 17: 20-25 (NRSVA):
20 Once Jesus was asked by the Pharisees when the kingdom of God was coming, and he answered, ‘The kingdom of God is not coming with things that can be observed; 21 nor will they say, “Look, here it is!” or “There it is!” For, in fact, the kingdom of God is among you.’
22 Then he said to the disciples, ‘The days are coming when you will long to see one of the days of the Son of Man, and you will not see it. 23 They will say to you, “Look there!” or “Look here!” Do not go, do not set off in pursuit. 24 For as the lightning flashes and lights up the sky from one side to the other, so will the Son of Man be in his day. 25 But first he must endure much suffering and be rejected by this generation.’
The chapel in Magdalen College, Oxford … waiting for the son of God? John Betjeman was an undergraduate, and CS Lewis was his tutor (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Today’s reflection:
The English Poet Laureate John Betjeman loved to tell the story of a Japanese prince who arrived at Magdalen College, Oxford, as an undergraduate in 1925, the same year as Betjeman came up.
The President of Magdalen College, Sir Thomas Herbert Warren (1853-1930), was known as a poet too, albeit a bad poet despite being Professor of Poetry at Oxford. He was also an insufferable snob, and Jeremy Paxman says he ‘was perhaps the greatest snob in England.’
When Prince Chichibu arrived at Magdalen in 1925, Warren hoped he would soon be followed by his elder brother, the future Emperor Hirohito. The prince told Warren he was a direct descendant of the sun goddess Ametarasu, and let him know: ‘At home I am called the son of God.’
Warren took a deep breath, coughed and put the prince in his place: ‘You will find, your highness, that we have the sons of many famous fathers here.’
The Gospel reading at the Eucharist today (Luke 17: 20-25) is one of the stories about preparing for the kingdom of God and the arrival of the Son of God on earth, not only as the incarnate Christ Child at Christmas in nativity story or in a decorative crib, but also as Christ the King.
As we prepare for the Feast of Christ the King in ten days’ time (Sunday 22 November) and for Advent, we should expect many of our readings to have apocalyptic themes, looking forward to that Coming of Christ the King at his second coming.
The apocalyptic images in today’s reading anticipate some of these themes. But, perhaps surprisingly, today’s reading cautions us against looking for too many portents or for inappropriate signs, telling us instead to live in the real world: ‘The kingdom of God is not coming with things that can be observed … For, in fact, the kingdom of God is among you’ (Luke 17: 20-21).
But, as we prepare for the coming of Christ, are we trapped?
Are we trapped in the commercialism of Christmas?
There are 12 days of Christmas. But not one of them is in November. Yet for many weeks now, we have been inundated with Christmas catalogues and advertising, mince pies that are out of date even before the beginning of December, and invitations to book Christmas dinners or book tickets for Christmas shows. Already, here in Stony Stratford, the Christmas lights went up in the High Street on Sunday morning and many of the shops are displaying bright Christmas decorations.
Does the decoration of our shops, our streets, even of our churches, lead our eyes to the coming Christ or away from him?
To return to John Betjeman: he spent time in Dublin during World War II as the British press attaché, and was an active parishioner in Saint John’s, Clondalkin. In a lecture to Church of Ireland clergy in 1943, he said the ‘fabric of the church is very much concerned with worship. The decoration of a church can lead the eye to God or away from him.’
Betjeman’s poems are often humorous, with a wry, comic verse often marked by satire. He is one of the most significant literary figures of our time and was a practising Anglican, and his beliefs and piety inform many of his poems.
It is appropriate then, this morning, to re-read Betjeman’s poem ‘Christmas.’ In the first few verses, he describes the frivolous ways we prepare for Christmas:
The bells of waiting Advent ring,
The Tortoise stove is lit again
And lamp-oil light across the night
Has caught the streaks of winter rain
In many a stained-glass window sheen
From Crimson Lake to Hookers Green.
The holly in the windy hedge
And round the Manor House the yew
Will soon be stripped to deck the ledge,
The altar, font and arch and pew,
So that the villagers can say
‘The church looks nice’ on Christmas Day.
Provincial Public Houses blaze,
Corporation tramcars clang,
On lighted tenements I gaze,
Where paper decorations hang,
And bunting in the red Town Hall
Says ‘Merry Christmas to you all’.
And London shops on Christmas Eve
Are strung with silver bells and flowers
As hurrying clerks the City leave
To pigeon-haunted classic towers,
And marbled clouds go scudding by
The many-steepled London sky.
And girls in slacks remember Dad,
And oafish louts remember Mum,
And sleepless children’s hearts are glad.
And Christmas-morning bells say ‘Come!’
Even to shining ones who dwell
Safe in the Dorchester Hotel.
And then, in the last three stanzas of this poem, Betjeman proclaims the wonder of Christ’s birth in the form of a question: ‘And is it true …?’
And is it true, This most tremendous tale of all,
Seen in a stained-glass window’s hue,
A Baby in an ox’s stall?
The Maker of the stars and sea
Become a Child on earth for me?
And is it true? For if it is,
No loving fingers tying strings
Around those tissued fripperies,
The sweet and silly Christmas things,
Bath salts and inexpensive scent
And hideous tie so kindly meant,
No love that in a family dwells,
No carolling in frosty air,
Nor all the steeple-shaking bells
Can with this single Truth compare –
That God was man in Palestine
And lives today in Bread and Wine.
‘God was man in Palestine / And lives today in Bread and Wine’ (John Betjeman) … communion vessels at the Eucharist (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Today’s Prayers (Thursday 12 November 2026):
In Pray with the World Church, the prayer diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), the theme this week, from 8 to 14 November 2026 (pp 54-55), is ‘Pray for COP31’. This theme was introduced on Sunday with a reflection by Sophia Jones, Interim Director of Communications, Engagement, and Fundraising, USPG.
The USPG Prayer Diary today (Thursday 12 November 2026) invites us to pray:
Loving God, we lift before you places in the world where rising seas, drought, and storms threaten homes, livelihoods, and places of worship. Strengthen your Church in these lands; grant resilience to communities, wisdom to leaders and hope that endures through every trial.
The Collect of the Day:
Almighty Father,
whose will is to restore all things
in your beloved Son, the King of all:
govern the hearts and minds of those in authority,
and bring the families of the nations,
divided and torn apart by the ravages of sin,
to be subject to his just and gentle rule;
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.
The Post-Communion Prayer:
God of peace,
whose Son Jesus Christ proclaimed the kingdom
and restored the broken to wholeness of life:
look with compassion on the anguish of the world,
and by your healing power
make whole both people and nations;
through our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.
Additional Collect:
God, our refuge and strength,
bring near the day when wars shall cease
and poverty and pain shall end,
that earth may know the peace of heaven
through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Yesterday’s Reflections
Continued Tomorrow
‘For as the lightning flashes and lights up the sky from one side to the other, so will the Son of Man be in his day’ (Luke 17: 24) … fading lights at Punta Sabbioni, where the Venetian Lagoon meets the Adriatic Sea (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
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
11 November 2026
A ‘virtual tour’ of a dozen
churches dedicated to
Saint Martin of Tours on
Saint Martin’s Day 2026
An image of Saint Martin of Tours survives at Carfax Tower, a reminder of Saint Martin’s Church in the centre of Oxford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Patrick Comerford
Saint Martin’s Day or Martinmas and historically called Old Halloween or Old All Hallows’ Eve, is the feast day of Saint Martin of Tours and is celebrated in the liturgical year on 11 November. In the Middle Ages and early modern period, it was an important festival in many parts of Europe, including Ireland.
Traditionally, in many parts of Europe, Saint Martin’s Day marked the end of the harvest and the beginning of winter. The feast coincides with the end of the Octave of Allhallowtide or All Saints’ Day. The day marked the end of the harvest season and beginning of winter and the ‘winter revelling season’. Traditions include ‘Martinmas goose’ or ‘Martinmas beef’, drinking the first wine of the season, and mumming.
Saint Martin of Tours (died 397 CE) was a Roman soldier who was baptised as an adult and became a bishop in Gaul. He is best known for the legend whereby he cut his cloak in half with his sword to give half to a beggar who was dressed in only rags in the depth of winter. That night Saint Martin had a vision of Christ wearing the half-cloak.
There was a common belief in Co Wexford to never go fishing on 10 November (Saint Martin’s Eve) or 11 November (Saint Martin’s Day). Wexford fishermen had many superstitions about the day, and many herring boats would never venture out on this night or the night before, in some cases, no matter how good the conditions or the fishing were.
There are many accounts of tragedies in folklore relating to fishermen who ignored this custom, from Arklow to Wexford Town to Ballyhealy. The best-known account dates back to 1702 in Wexford Bay. One well-documented account relates to Saint Martin’s Eve and a disaster in Wexford Bay in 1762, when 70 fishermen from Wexford Town were drowned when they did not pay heed to the warning to stay off the sea. It was recalled by John Boyle O’Reilly in his poem ‘The Fishermen of Wexford’.
Saint Martin’s Day has lost some of its cultural significance, and there are few places where it is a significant day in the Church Calendar. But to mark the day, I thought I would offer a ‘virtual tour’ today of 12 cathedrals, churches and chapels dedicated to Saint Martin, including three cathedrals (Leicester, Bratislava and Lucca), and spread across five countries: England, Ireland, Italy, Sarawak in Malaysia and Slovakia.
1, Cathedral Church of Saint Martin, Leicester:
Leicester Cathedral … the 220-ft spire was added in 1862 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Leicester Cathedral, or the Cathedral Church of Saint Martin, is near the centre of the mediaeval old town and is best-known today as the burial place of King Richard III. Over 100,000 people visit Leicester Cathedral every year, mainly to see the tomb of the last English monarch to die in battle.
Leicester Cathedral has been a cathedral since 1927, following the formation of a new Diocese of Leicester the previous year. In terms of size, it is the fifth smallest cathedral in the Church of England – smaller than Christ Church, Oxford, but bigger than the cathedrals in Birmingham, Chelmsford, Carlisle and Derby.
The Middle Angles had a bishopric in 680 and the Anglo-Saxon cathedral may have stood close to or on the site of the present cathedral in Leicester. Affter the invasion by the Danes ca 870 and the establishment of the Danelaw in 886, the seat of the diocese moved first to Dorchester and then to Lincoln.
The 19th century suffragan bishops of Leicester were part of the Diocese of Peterborough until the Diocese of Leicester was formed in 1926, and Saint Martin’s Church, Leicester, became the cathedral of the new see. The seven figures in sandstone niches on the south porch or ‘Vaughan Porch’ embody the story of the diocese and the cathedral.
Leicester Cathedral has a large nave and chancel with two chancel chapels, and a 220-ft tower and spire that were added in the 1860s. The restoration projects over the centuries include work by the Victorian architect John Raphael Rodrigues Brandon (1817-1877), and the building appears largely Gothic in style today.
Saint Martin’s Church was built on the site of Roman ruins. Archaeological discoveries show evidence of a Roman building on the site, with many believing it was the site of a Roman temple.
The church is dedicated to Saint Martin of Tours, a fourth century Roman officer who became a bishop. Parts of the present church can be traced to a 12th century Norman church that was rebuilt in the 13th and 15th centuries. In the Middle Ages, its site next to the Guild Hall made Saint Martin’s the civic church of Leicester, with strong ties to the merchants and guilds of the town.
Much of the present building is predominantly Victorian, including the tower, completed in 1862, and the 220-ft spire added in 1867. This Victorian work by the architect Raphael Brandon is in the Early English style, although his work in other parts of the church is in the perpendicular style. The architectural historian Sir Nikolaus Pevsner says the tower and spire are ‘intentionally impressive’.
Over 100,000 people visit Leicester Cathedral every year, mainly to see the tomb of Richard III, the last English monarch to die in battle (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
The Chapel of Christ the King, with the Great East Window, was created at the east end of the cathedral in the former chancel as part of re-ordering the cathedral for the burial of Richard III.
The East Window, a monument to the dead of World War I, features unusual but beautiful colours of stained glass designed by Christopher Whall. Christ the King sits enthroned, with one hand raised in blessing and the other holding a starry orb, his feet resting on the earth or creation.
Surrounding the figure of Christ are eight angels with wings made from a red glass. To the left and right stand Saint George and Saint Michael the Archangel, each standing on a vanquished dragon. The bottom row depicts the deposition from the cross in the three centre panels, with Saint Joan of Arc and Saint Martin of Tours in the side panels.
Richard III was killed in 1485 at the Battle of Bosworth Field in Leicestershire and was buried hastily, with little ceremony, in the Greyfriars, Leicester. Leicester City Council, the University of Leicester, and the Richard III Society, inspired by the work of Philippa Langley, began a search for his remains at a car park in August 2012. His remains were exhumed and following DNA testing were confirmed in February 2013.
After five days of commemorative events, Richard III was reburied in Leicester Cathedral on 26 March 2015 at a service conducted by Archbishop Justin Welby of Canterbury and the Irish-born Dean of Leicester, the Very Revd David Monteith.
2, Saint Martin’s Cathedral, Bratislava:
Saint Martin’s Cathedral was built into the walled fortifications of the old town of Bratislava (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Saint Martin’s Cathedral in Bratislava stands at the western edge of the old city centre in the capital of Slovakia, beneath the slopes of Bratislava Castle. Its 85 metre spire dominates the skyline of the old town; it is the largest and one of the oldest churches in Bratislava, and it was used as the coronation church of the Kingdom of Hungary from 1563 to 1830.
Long before the cathedral was built, the site had been the crossroads in the old town centre, with a market and perhaps also a chapel. At the time, the main centre of worship was a chapel in Bratislava Castle that was used by the provost and chapter of Bratislava. An earlier Moravian church built in the eight century was replaced by a second church dedicated to the Saviour. It was rebuilt in 1221, and the site is still marked out on the castle hill.
As Bratislava grew, the church became insufficient for its needs, and the building of a new, three-nave, Gothic cathedral began in 1311 on the site of an earlier church and cemetery. The church was built as part of the city walls, and its tower served as a defensive bastion in the mediaeval city fortifications.
The building project was delayed due to its location of the site and a lack of funding in the early 15th century, and came to a halt during the Hussite Wars. The cathedral was finally completed and consecrated in 1452, although work continued into the 15th century.
Georg Rafael Donner’s sculpture in the cathedral in Bratislava shows Saint Martin as a Hungarian hussar (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Saint Martin’s was the coronation church for Hungarian kings and their consorts from 1563 to 1830. It became the coronation church in succession to the Church of the Virgin Mary in Székesfehérvár, after that city was conquered by the Ottomans. The Crown of Saint Stephen was placed on the head of Maximilian II, son of Emperor Ferdinand I of Habsburg, in 1563.
In all, 11 kings and queens and eight of their consorts from the Habsburg dynasty were crownedt here between 1563 and 1830, including Maria Theresa of Austria. This role is marked to this day by the 300 kg gilded replica of the Hungarian royal crown perched on top of the 85-metre-tall neo-Gothic tower.
The first monumental work of central-European sculpture made from lead can be found inside the cathedral. It depicts Saint Martin as a typical Hungarian hussar on his horse, bending to a beggar and cutting his coat to share it with a poor beggar. It was created by Georg Rafael Donner for the main altar in 1734, but this now stands in a side nave as a free-standing statue.
The cathedral nave has three aisles divided by two rows of eight columns (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
The top of the Gothic tower was struck by lightning in 1760 and later replaced by a Baroque tower. This was later destroyed by fire in 1835 and rebuilt in 1847 and topped with a gold-plated replica of the crown of Saint Stephen.
The cathedral was ‘re-Gothicised’ in 1869-1877 after it was damaged by fire, war, earthquake and other disasters. The three crypts under the cathedral include the archbishops’ crypt, the Jesuit crypt and the Pálffy family crypt.
The cathedral serves the Archdiocese of Bratislava, first formed in 1922. Pope Paul VI made it a diocese and renamed it the Archdiocese of Trnava in 1977, and it was renamed the Archdiocese of Bratislava-Trnava in 1995. The Archdiocese of Bratislava was formed in 2008, and its seat was moved from Trnava to Bratislava, which became the seat of the Slovak church.
The cathedral was declared a national cultural monument since in 2002. Since 2003, the cathedral’s former role as the coronation church of Hungarian monarchs has been celebrated in style and with fun at the beginning of September each year, when the pomp and circumstance of the coronation procession returns to Bratislava in a reconstruction of the ceremony.
3, Cattedrale di San Martino, Lucca (Duomo di Lucca):
Lucca Cathedral or the Duomo di Lucca or Cattedrale di San Martino is dedicated to Saint Martin of Tours (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Lucca was saved from bombing during World War II, leaving intact the walls, the tiny squares, the narrow streets and the alleyways, with their fountains, statues, and mediaeval churches.
Lucca was the birthplace of Puccini, and there is a bronze statue of the composer in the square close to the house where he was born. The squares of Lucca have statues of Garibaldi and links with Napoleon, and there are many churches in the narrow streets and alleyways, including the Church of San Michele and the duomo or Cattedrale di San Martino.
Lucca Cathedral or the Duomo di Lucca or Cattedrale di San Martino is dedicated to Saint Martin of Tours. Building work was begun in 1063 by Bishop Anselm of Lucca, later Pope Alexander II.
The great apse, with its tall columns and arcades, and the campanile survive from the original building. The nave and transepts were rebuilt in the Gothic style in the 14th century. The west front was begun in 1204 by Guido Bigarelli of Como, and has a vast portico of three magnificent arches, with three ranges of open galleries filled with sculptures above.
A small shrine in the nave holds the Volto Santo di Lucca (‘Holy Face of Lucca’), said to be an image of Christ carved from cedar-wood for a crucifix by Nicodemus, and brought miraculously to Lucca in 782. The figure of Christ is clothed in a long sleeveless garment. The cathedral also has works by Matteo Civitali, Jacopo della Quercia, Domenico Ghirlandaio, Federico Zuccari, Jacopo Tintoretto and Fra Bartolomeo.
Religious symbolism in the narrow streets and lanes of Lucca (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Each column of the façade is different. According to local lore, when they were about to be decorated, the people of Lucca announced a contest for the best column. Each artist made a column, but the people decided to take all of them without paying the artists and used all the columns.
A labyrinth embedded in the right pier of the portico is believed to date from the 12th or 13th century, and may pre-date the labyrinth in Chartres. The Latin inscription translates: ‘This is the labyrinth built by Dedalus of Crete; all who entered therein were lost, save Theseus, thanks to Ariadne’s thread.’
The Church of Santi Giovanni e Reparata in Piazza San Giovanni was the first seat of the Bishops of Lucca, and was the cathedral from the eighth century until the cathedra was transferred to San Martino. Since then, the two churches have retained a close relationship.
The Santa Reparata complex was built in the fifth century on the site of an earlier Roman settlement. The area became a cemetery in the sixth century, and a church was built there in the eighth century.
4, Saint Martin-in-the Fields, London:
Saint Martin-in-the-Fields, facing onto Trafalgar Square, is one of the best-known churches in London (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Saint Martin-in-the-Fields has a prominent position looking out across Trafalgar Square that makes it one of the best-known churches in London. Architecturally, spiritually, culturally and socially, Saint Martin’s has helped to form the world around it, and it is a welcoming place where people of different faiths regularly pray together.
For many years, a photograph of a former Vicar of Saint Martin’s, Canon Dick Sheppard, hung over my desk in my study in a house in Dublin where I lived for 20 years until the mid-1990s. His pacifism and his social activism were among the many influences on the development of my Anglicanism and my spirituality.
Saint Martin’s was involved in founding the Anti-Apartheid Movement and many other campaigns and charities, including Amnesty International, Shelter and The Big Issue, and over the decades has been supportive of the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament and Christian CND. It is one of the churches in London that is a joy to drop into, whether to have coffee or lunch in the crypt or to pray in the church.
There has been a church on the site since at least the medieval period, when the area was farmlands and fields beyond the London wall. The site is outside the city limits of Roman London, a mile west of Ludgate, and excavations have uncovered burials dating from around the year 350. But the earliest surviving reference to the church is in 1222.
Henry VIII rebuilt the church in 1542 to keep plague victims away from the Palace of Whitehall. At this time, the church was ‘in the fields’, in an isolated position between the cities of Westminster and London. It was enlarged eastward over the old burial ground in 1606, when it was ‘repaired and beautified.’
Galleries were added later in the 17th century to accommodate more people, and burials there in the 17th century included Robert Boyle and Nell Gwyn. Parliament passed an act in 1720 to rebuild the church, and the architect James Gibbs was commissioned to design the new church.
The foundation stone of the new church was laid on 19 March 1722, and the last stone of the spire was put in position in December 1724. Gibbs drew on the works of Sir Christopher Wren in his plans, but departed from Wren’s practice in his integration of the tower into the church. The spire rises 59 metres (192 ft) above the level of the church floor.
Inside Saint Martin-in-the-Fields … architecturally, spiritually, culturally and socially it has helped to shape the world around it (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
The work of the church today is informed by the practical Christianity, exemplified in the life of its patron saint. After a career in the Roman army, Saint Martin became Bishop of Tours. In an instinctive act of generosity, he shared his cloak with a beggar. But the ultimate blessing was given to Saint Martin when the beggar returned to him in a dream as Christ.
The example of Saint Martin was followed by Canon Hugh Richard Laurie (Dick) Sheppard (1880-1937), who was the Vicar of Saint Martin’s from 1914-1927. During World War I, he gave refuge to soldiers on their way to France. He began programmes for the area’s homeless and saw Saint Martin’s as ‘the church of the ever-open door’ – and the doors have remained open ever since.
His book We Say No (1935) was published a year before he founded the Peace Pledge Union in 1936, and he was involved in the formation of the Anglican Pacifist Fellowship shortly before he died.
Dick Sheppard’s immediate successor, Canon William Patrick Glyn (‘Pat’) McCormick (1877-1940), who was vicar in 1927-1940, came from a prominent Irish clerical (and cricket playing) family. His father, Canon Joseph McCormick (1834-1914), played cricket for Ireland under the alias of J Bingley, the name of one of the schools he had attended, to disguise his participation from his parishioners in Dunmore East, Co Waterford.
Pat McCormick was an international cricketer and rugby player, and was supported by SPG (now USPG) as a priest working in South Africa in 1903-1914. At Saint Martin-in-the-Fields, he did much to help the homeless and poor, he regularly preached on BBC Radio and was the first clergyman to appear on British television. During his time, the crypt in Saint Martin’s was restored in 1937.
With changing needs in society in the 1960s, Saint Martin’s was concerned for the welfare of new arrivals in the emerging Chinatown and welcomed a Chinese congregation. Today, the Ho Ming Wah Chinese People’s Day Centre provides vital services for the Chinese community in London.
The church has a close relationship with the royal family, whose parish church it is, and with 10 Downing Street and the Admiralty. But it is also familiar to anyone and everyone who has taken part in a protest that has ended in Trafalgar Square.
A new East Window designed by Shirazeh Houshiary, the Iranian-born English sculptor, artist and painter, was installed above the High Altar in 2008 to mark the final stage of the project. The Altar was designed by Shirazeh Houshiary and Pip Horne, creators of the East Window, and was dedicated at the Patronal Festival of Saint Martin of Tours on 13 November 2011. Mike Chapman’s sculpture ‘In the Beginning’ was commissioned to mark the new millennium and was part of the 1999 Trafalgar Square Christmas celebrations. Carved in a 4.5 tonne block of Portland Stone, it is permanently on display at the entrance to the church.
5, Saint Martin within Ludgate, London:
Saint Martin within Ludgate, a Guild Church and a Wren Church just a few steps west of Saint Paul’s Cathedral (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Saint Martin within Ludgate is a Guild Church and a Wren Church on Ludgate Hill, just a few steps west of Saint Paul’s Cathedral and almost opposite City Thameslink station (Ludgate Hill exit). After the Great Fire of London, the church was rebuilt by Sir Christopher Wren in 1677-1684.
The church takes its name from Saint Martin of Tours, a patron saint of travellers. Churches dedicated to him often stand within city gates. Ludgate was the westernmost gate in London Wall. The name survives in Ludgate Hill, an eastward continuation of Fleet Street, Ludgate Circus and Ludgate Square.
William Penn, who was married in the church in 1643, was the father of William Penn, the Quaker founder of Pennsylvania.
Inside Saint Martin within Ludgate … rebuilt by Wren after the Great Fire (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
The Great Fire of London engulfed Saint Martin’s on 4 September 1666. Rebuilding was not immediate, was largely completed by 1680, but not finally until 1703. At the same time the church was set back from the old site, as Ludgate Hill was widened.
Saint Martin’s is one of Wren’s later rebuildings and its slender lead spire was most carefully considered in relation to the dome of Saint Paul’s Cathedral. The view eastward from Ludgate Circus towards Saint Paul’s is one of the most memorable in London.
From the lower part of Fleet Street, the steeple of Saint Martin’s stands between the viewer and the dome of Saint Paul’s. Wren’s steeple at Saint Martin’s has a sharp obelisk steeple that has been described as ‘somewhat like an exclamation mark!’
An interesting feature inside is the 17th century baptismal font has a Greek palindrome: Νιψον Ανομηματα Μη Μοναν Οψιν (Nipson anomemata me monan opsin, ‘Cleanse my sin and not my face only’).
6, Saint Martin’s, Carfax Tower, Oxford:
Carfax Tower is all that survives of Saint Martin’s Church, Oxford, after it was pulled down in 1896 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Carfax Tower at the junction of Saint Aldate’s, Cornmarket, Queen Street and High Street in Oxford, is all that remains of the 12th century Saint Martin’s Church. The tower, also known as Saint Martin’s Tower, is a prominent landmark, and Carfax is regarded as the centre of Oxford.
The name ‘Carfax’ derives from the Latin quadrifurcus through the French carrefour, meaning ‘crossroads’. Although the name Carfax is often used to refer to the tower, it is properly the name of the crossroads, and the tower is Carfax Tower, or, more accurately, Saint Martin’s Tower.
The Church of Saint Martin of Tours was the official City Church of Oxford and the Mayor and civic officials were expected to worship there, from ca 1122 until 1896, when the church was demolished. At least 20 Mayors of Oxford were buried in the church, dating back to Richard Carey in 1349. It is possible that council meetings were held in the church before Oxford had a dedicated city hall.
The Mayor and Corporation appointed the Rector and four City Lecturers. Sermons were given by each of four city lecturers in turn, and it was customary for the Rector to be one of the lecturers.
Saint Martin’s was demolished in 1820 after the building had become unstable, but the 13th century west tower was spared, a new church was built, and it opened in June 1822. The new Gothic Revival church had large traceried windows and a large clock facing onto Carfax. Inside, the church had a Corporation Pew for civic officials and, unusually, a Ladies’ Corporation Pew.
Eventually, the second Saint Martin’s Church was pulled down in 1896 when the roads were widened to improve traffic flow. But this remains one of the busiest junction in Oxford and it is also a popular gathering place for tourists and tour groups.
The ‘Quarterboys’ hammer out the quarter hour on a pair of 19th century bells on Carfax Tower in Oxford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
When Saint Martin’s Church was demolished, the tower was spared. The civic church was moved to All Saints’ Church on High Street, and it remained the City Church for 75 years. When All Saints’ Church became the library of Lincoln College, Saint Michael at the North Gate, Cornmarket, became the City Church.
A solitary gravestone behind Carfax Tower commemorates William Butler, a former Mayor of Oxford, who died in 1865. He was buried in Saint Martin’s churchyard with his wife Elizabeth and their daughters. When Saint Martin’s was demolished, the grave was overlooked and remains in place.
The clock on the east side of Carfax is a copy of the original church clock, with mechanical figures called ‘quarterboys’ that hammer out the quarter hour on a pair of late 19th century bells, cast by John Taylor & Co of Loughborough in 1898. The clock’s current dial and surroundings were designed by Sir TG Jackson and installed in 1898. The clock mechanism was replaced in 1938-1939 with an electric one made by Gents’ of Leicester. The tower also has a ring of six bells.
The tower is 23 metres (74 ft) high, with views out across Oxford. Carfax plays a role in the disciplinary regulations of the University of Oxford comparable to the role of Saint Mary the Great in Cambridge. For example, the university requires some students to reside within six miles (9.7 km) of Carfax.
7, Saint Martin in the Bull Ring, Birmingham:
Saint Martin in the Bull Ring is 19th century Victorian Gothic revival on the outside, but inside has 12th and 13th century carvings and tombs (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
I have known the Church of Saint Martin in the Bull Ring, the original parish church in Birmingham, since my teens, travelling between Birmingham and Lichfield, and have also visited it when I have been in Birmingham for USPG meetings.
Saint Martin’s is known as ‘the Mother Church of Birmingham’ and stands between the Bull Ring Shopping Centre and the markets. The Selfridge’s building facing Saint Martin’s in the Bull Ring has become a modern architectural symbol of Birmingham.
The name of Birmingham is Anglo-Saxon, but it is not known whether there was a church there at that time. When the new town of Birmingham was developed at the time of the Market Charter of 1166, Peter de Birmingham may have moved his manor house to the Moat Lane site and built Saint Martin’s as a new church.
The present Victorian church was built on the site of a 13th century predecessor, which dated from 1263 or earlier. The church was enlarged in mediaeval times, with a lofty nave and chancel, north and south aisles and a north-west tower with a spire. By the mid-16th century, the church had a clock and chime maintained by the Guild of the Holy Cross at an annual cost of four shillings and four pence.
John Cheshire rebuilt 40 ft of the spire in 1781, which was strengthened by an iron spindle running up its centre for a length of 105 ft. It was secured to the sidewalls at every 10 feet by braces. Several metres from the top of the spire were replaced in 1801, when they were found to have decayed. The tops of the four pinnacles surrounding the main spire were also rebuilt. By 1808, the spire had been struck by lightning three times.
The brick casing was removed from the tower in 1853 by Philip Charles Hardwick, who added the open-air pulpit.
The church was demolished in 1873 and rebuilt by the Birmingham architect Julius Alfred Chatwin (1830-1907), who retained the earlier tower and spire. During the demolition, mediaeval wall paintings and decorations were found in the chancel, including one showing the charity of Saint Martin dividing his cloak with a beggar. Two painted beams were also found behind the plaster ceiling.
Inside Saint Martin in the Bull Ring, Birmingham (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
The exterior is built of rock-faced Grinshill stone. The interior is of sandstone with an open timber roof, which shows the influence of the great hammerbeam roof of Westminster Hall, where Chatwin had worked under Charles Barry and AWN Pugin. Chatwin also enlarged Saint Philip’s Cathedral, Birmingham m in 1884-1888.
The beams are decorated with fine tracery and end in large carvings of angels. The roof weights 93 tons (94.5 tonnes), spans 6.7 metres over the 30.4 metre long nave and is 18.2 metres high.
The Victorian floor tiles are by Minton and display the quartered arms of the de Bermingham family. From east to west, the length of the church is 47 metres (155 ft), including the chancel, the arch of which rises to 18 metres (60 ft).
The Pre-Raphaelite window in the South Transept by Sir Edward Burne-Jones was made by William Morris in 1875. The West window is a copy made in 1954 of the window made by Henry Hardman in 1875 and destroyed in the Blitz.
The mediaeval-style stone statues on the north and west fronts were designed by Chatwin and sculpted by Robert Bridgeman’s of Lichfield. They depict King Richard I in commemoration of his visit to Birmingham ca 1189 confirming the market charter, and Saint Martin of Tours giving his cloak to a beggar.
8, Saint Martin le Grand, York:
Saint Martin le Grand is the official civic church of York (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Saint Martin le Grand on the south side of Coney Street in York is dedicated Saint Martin of Tours, and while the church is generally known as Saint Martin le Grand, this title was coined in the 1830s and is not its official name.
The church is the official civic church of York and was described in Victorian times as ‘one of the most beautiful churches in the city.’
The earliest masonry is from ca 1080, although the church is thought to be older. The tower was built in the 15th century.
The church was restored in 1853-1854 by JB and W Atkinson of York. The south side and east ends of the aisles were rebuilt, and the pierced battlement was added, to replace one removed 40 years earlier. The porch was added at the east end into Coney Street, and a south porch also added near the tower. New stained glass windows by William Wailes were added.
The church is known for the prominent clock on the east front overhanging the street. The clock was added in 1856 by Mr Cooke, with a carved figure of the ‘Little Admiral’ dating from 1778 – although the admiral seemed to be on shore leave on recent occasions when I went looking for him during visits to York.
The church was largely destroyed in a bombing raid on 29 April 1942, but the 15th century tower and south aisle remain, with a new vestry and parish room at the west end of the site. The Saint Martin window (ca 1437) was removed before the raid for safety. It now occupies a new transept opposite the south door, and it is the largest mediaeval window in York outside the Minster.
The church restoration by the architect George Gaze Pace in 1961-1968 is considered one of the most successful post-war church restorations in England, successfully blending the surviving 15th-century remains with contemporary elements. The reredos screen was designed by Frank Roper.
The tower of Saint Martin-cum-Gregory, now a Stained Glass Centre (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Another church dedicated to Saint Martin in York is the Church of Saint Martin-cum-Gregory in the Parish of Holy Trinity, Micklegate, now a stained glass centre. The church was originally only dedicated to Saint Martin, but acquired its present name when it merged with Saint Gregory’s Church in 1585.
The church dates from the 11th century. Part of the nave and the north and south arcades date from the 13th century, the north aisle dates form the mid-14th century, and the chancel, chapels and arcades were rebuilt around 1430.
The north porch was added in 1655, and the west tower was refaced with brick in 1677. The clock was added in 1680. The upper stages of the tower were rebuilt again in 1844-1845 by JB and W Atkinson of York.
The church was restored in 1875 when the interior was cleared of the old square pews, the west gallery and the organ. The floor was levelled and laid with red and black tiles. The columns, arcades and walls were scraped and repaired. The roof of the nave was restored and painted. The organ was enlarged by Mr Denman of Skeldergate. New seating was fitted in the nave and Gurney stoves were introduced for heating.
A further restoration was carried out in 1894, when the chancel was re-roofed. The parish was united with Holy Trinity Church, Micklegate, in 1953. After being made redundant, the church served as a public hall. Since 2008, it has been developed as a stained-glass centre and it is an occasional arts venue.
9, Saint Martin-at-Palace, Norwich:
Saint Martin at Palace Plain is close to the Law Courts in Norwich (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Saint Martin at Palace Plain was a casualty of parochial re-ordering in Norwich and closed in 1971. The church is mediaeval but was heavily restored by Edward Hakewill in the mid 19th century.
After it closed, the church was used as the store for the Diocesan Furnishings Officer, re-homing unneeded church furniture. It was taken over by the Probation Service in 1987, because it is conveniently close to the Law Courts.
MoveOn East, the successor of the Probation Service, left the building in 2012, and it stood empty until 2017, when the NHCT relocated its administrative offices there.
The site of Saint Martin in Balliva … totally demolished in 1562 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
There was another church in mediaeval Norwich dedicated to Saint Martin: the Church of Saint Martin in Balliva was also known as Saint Martin in the Bailey, and was referred to as at ‘Ber Street’ or at ‘Timber Hill.’
There was a church on the site during the mediaeval period. A fraternity of friars had a house in the churchyard before they were joined to the Whitefriars or Carmelites.
The church was totally demolished in 1562, when the parish was united with Saint Michael’s. At one time, all persons dying in the castle and all criminals executed. were buried in the churchyard. When the church was demolished, this right was transferred to Saint Michael’s at Thorn.
10, Saint Martin of Tours Church, Culmullen, Co Meath:
The Church of Saint Martin of Tours in Culmullen, Co Meath … designed by William Hague (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
The Roman Catholic parish church in Culmullen, near Dunshaughlin, Co Meath, is dedicated to Saint Martin of Tours and was renovated in 1989, but dates back to last quarter of the 19th century.
This is a single-cell Gothic Revival church designed in 1876 by the architect William Hague (1840–1899), a protégé of AWN Pugin. Hague was active as a church architect in Ireland throughout the mid and late 19th century, working mainly from his offices at 50 Dawson Street, Dublin. He was born in Co Cavan, the son of William Hague, a builder from Butlersbirdge who moved to Cavan town in 1838. William Hague jr designed several churches in Ireland, many in the French Gothic style. He was a pupil of Sir Charles Barry (1795-1860), the English architect who designed the Houses of Parliament in Westminster.
Hague opened an office at 175 Great Brunswick Street, Dublin, in 1861. Later he supervised the completion of the unfinished church of Saint Augustine and Saint John in Thomas Street (John’s Lane), Dublin, begun by Pugin’s son, Edward Pugin, and George Coppinger Ashlin in 1862.
In the year Saint Martin’s Church was built in Culmullen, Hague married Anne Frances Daly, the daughter of a Dublin solicitor, Vesey Daly of Eccles Street. They were married in Saint Michan’s Church, Dublin, on 26 April 1876, and they were the parents of two sons, William Vesey Hague, the writer and philosopher, and Joseph Patrick Clifford Hague, and two daughters.
Hague had a flourishing practice, particularly as a prolific designer of Roman Catholic churches, designing or altering 40 to 50 throughout Ireland. He was the architect to Saint Patrick’s Catholic Cathedral, Armagh, in the 1880s and 1890s.
A plaque in Saint Martin of Tours Church, Culmullen, Co Meath, remembers Maurice James Dease, who received the first VC awarded in World War I (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Saint Martin’s Church in Culmullen, which was dedicated on 1 September 1878, was built by Hall and Son. The church is a good example of Gothic Revival church architecture. It is worth looking out for is the use of structural polychromy throughout the exterior which adds textural contrast with the rock-faced limestone. The conical bell tower and stained glass give artistic effect.
The church is built of rock-faced limestone with polychrome brick detailing and string courses. It has a pitched two-tone natural slate roof, with decorative terracotta ridge tiles and cast-iron rainwater goods.
There is a five-bay nave with pointed-arched stained glass windows, some in pairs, and stone sills. The windows are by Early and Powell, who worked in many of the Pugin and Gothic Revival churches in Ireland. The gable-fronted west porch has a pointed-arch door opening with brick surrounds and a pair of timber doors. The bell tower is designed on a rectangular plan with conical slate spire, and is topped with a cast-iron weather vane, attached to the west at the junction of the nave and the chancel.
There is a single-bay chancel to the north with a gable-fronted sacristy attached to the west. Three lancet windows illustrating the life story of Saint Martin of Tours light the chancel and the nave is lit by three lancet windows above five smaller lights, all with brick surrounds. Both the nave and chancel gables are surmounted with carved stone crosses. The marble altar was designed by Neill and Co, and the octagonal font is said to be late mediaeval. The roof is supported on king post trusses with diagonal struts.
Hague designed churches, convents, colleges, schools and town halls throughout Ireland. He completed Saint Macartan’s Cathedral, Monaghan, after the death of JJ McCarthy, often known as the ‘Irish Pugin’, and was responsible for the spire, the tower and the interior of McCarthy’s chapel at Saint Patrick’s College, Maynooth, which were completed after his death in 1905. He completed the interior of the Church of Saint Peter and Saint Paul in Monasterevin, Co Kildare, in 1880, when Bishop Michael Comerford was the parish priest. He also designed many of the buildings at Saint Patrick’s College, Maynooth, and Saint Eunan’s Cathedral, Letterkenny, Co Donegal.
The Presentation depicted in a stained glass window in the Church of Saint Martin of Tours, Culmullen, Co Meath (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Hague’s acceptance of commissions was ecumenical in scope. His many other works include the Archbishop’s Palace, Drumcondra, Dublin; Belturbet Presbyterian Church, Co Cavan; Cavan Methodist Church; the Protestant Hall, Cavan; Saint Aidan’s Church, Butlersbridge, Co Cavan; Saint Bridget’s Church, Killeshandra, Co Cavan; Saint John’s Church (Church of Ireland), Cloverhill, Butlersbirdge, Co Cavan; Saint Patrick’s Church, Ballybay, Co Monaghan; Saint Patrick’s Church, Trim, Co Meath; Saint Patrick’s College, Cavan; the Town Halls in Carlow and Sligo; Waterside Presbyterian Church, Derry; and the Westenra Arms Hotel, Monaghan.
Hague had become a Justice of the Peace (JP) for Co Cavan by 1885. He died of pneumonia at his house at 21 Upper Mount Street, Dublin, on 22 March 1899 and was buried at Glasnevin Cemetery three days later.
He worked from: 175 Great Brunswick Street, Dublin, and Cavan (1861-1872); 44 Westland Row and Cavan (1872-1877); 44 Westland Row (1879); 40 Dawson Street, Dublin (1879-1881); 62 Dawson Street (1881-1887); and 50 Dawson Street (1888-1899). He lived at 21 Upper Mount Street, and Kilnacrott House, Ballyjamesduff, Co Cavan.
After his death, his former student and managing assistant, Thomas Francis McNamara (1867-1947), took over most of his work under the business name of Hague & McNamara.
11, San Martino Vescovo (Saint Martin the Bishop), Burano, Venice:
The Chiesa San Martino Vescovo or the Church of Saint Martin the Bishop in Burano is known for its leaning tower (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
The Chiesa San Martino Vescovo or the Church of Saint Martino the Bishop is a 16th or 17th century church on Piazza Baldassarre Galuppi, the main square on the small island of Burano in the Venetian Lagoon. It can be seen from a distance in the Lagoon, marked out by its leaning tower.
This is a large church for such a small island. The first church on the site was built in the ninth century, and some time after the year 1000 the parish church was dedicated to Saint Martin of Tours. It has been restored and rebuilt several times, and it took its present appearance between 1500 and 1600.
The restored or rebuilt church was reconsecrated on 29 October 1645 by the Bishop of Torcello, Marco Antonio Martinengo.
Seen from outside, the church seems to have no main entrance. In fact, it is entered at the side through a Renaissance door beside the neighbouring Chapel of Santa Barbara. This entrance consists of a vast atrium, with an 18th century statue of the Madonna attributed to Girolamo Bonazza.
The interior, in Lombard-Baroque style, is in the shape of a Latin cross, with three naves ending in a chapel, divided by neoclassical pillars supporting full-arched arches and ending in Corinthian-style capitals. The floor has typical red and white square tiles.
The central nave, including the chancel and choir, is about 47 metres long and has a barrel-vaulted ceiling. The high altar is adorned with six elegant columns of red marble from France and another four from ancient oriental marble. The altar, built in 1673, has a large Baroque tabernacle with a small bronze statue of the Risen Christ above.
The unsafe central nave was renovated in 1867. The vault of the side naves and the central transept fell in 1874. In May 1913, a fire destroyed the ceiling of the main nave in May 1913, and the organ, built by Callido in 1767, was destroyed too. Callido’s organ was considered among the best organ masterpieces in Venice, and was replaced by an organ built by the Mascioni firm of Cuvio.
The unsafe central nave was renovated in 1867. The vault of the side naves and the central transept fell in 1874. In May 1913, a fire destroyed the ceiling of the main nave in May 1913, and the organ, built by Callido in 1767, was destroyed too. Callido’s organ was considered among the best organ masterpieces in Venice, and was replaced by an organ built by the Mascioni firm of Cuvio.
The works of art in the church include ‘The Crucifixion’ (1725) by Giambattista Tiepolo, showing the Madonna collapsed at the foot of the Cross, grey with grief. This ambitious early work by Tiepolo was strongly influenced by Tintoretto’s ‘Crucifixion’ in the Scuola di San Rocco.
There are statues of Sant’ Albano and San Martino, both by Girolamo Bonazza, and works by Francesco Fontabasso, Giovanni Mansueti and Girolamo da Santacroce. The icon near the main altar is a 19th century copy of the Russian icon of the Madonna of Kazan, a masterpiece of enamelwork with astonishingly bright, lifelike eyes.
Inside the Chiesa San Martino Vescovo or the Church of Saint Martin the Bishop on the island of Burano (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
The church is best known for its leaning tower, built on a square shape with Renaissance and neoclassical architectural features. It is 53 meters high and it on a base 6.2 metres wide. But, due to land subsidence, the tower has inclined by 1.83 meters from its axis.
The tower has undergone several restorations over the centuries, especially in the upper part of the belfry. The most notable maintenance works were carried out by Tirali in 1703-1714.
The top of the tower was crowned by an angel until it fell in a storm in 1867 and was replaced with a cross of iron.
The Oratory of Saint Barbara (Oratorio di Santa Barbara) next door contains relics of the saint who is said to have been martyred in Heliopolis or Nicomedia in the year 290. The Emperor Justin II exhumed her body in Nicomedia in 565 and moved her relics to the Church of the Holy Saviour in Constantinople. Her relics were taken from Constantinople to Venice by the Doge Pietro Orseolo II in 1003 and placed in the ducal chapel.
Her remains were moved to the Church of San Giovanni Evangelista on Torcello in 1009. They remained there for eight centuries, until it was suppressed by Napoleon I in 1806. They were moved with the remains of San Sisinnio, a bishop, to the Church of San Martino in Burano on 10 March 1811.
12, Saint Martin’s Chapel, Nyiru Grait, Sarawak:
Saint Martin’s Chapel in Nyiru Grait was consecrated in 1996 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
It is now two years since the Revd Dr Jeffry Renos Nawie took two of us on whirlwind tours of several churches and chapels in the Diocese of Kuching in Sarawak, including parishes and mission areas in vast rural areas south of Kuching.
Nyiru Grait is a village with a Bidayuh majority, with small Chinese and Iban minorities. Saint Martin’s Chapel has a Sunday congregation of about 200. The chapel bell was made from an old truck wheel.
Saint Martin’s Chapel was consecrated by Bishop Made Katib of Kuching on 20 April 1996.
A statue of Saint Martin at Saint Martin in the Bull Ring, Birmingham, designed by JA Chatwin and sculpted by Bridgeman’s of Lichfield (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Patrick Comerford
Saint Martin’s Day or Martinmas and historically called Old Halloween or Old All Hallows’ Eve, is the feast day of Saint Martin of Tours and is celebrated in the liturgical year on 11 November. In the Middle Ages and early modern period, it was an important festival in many parts of Europe, including Ireland.
Traditionally, in many parts of Europe, Saint Martin’s Day marked the end of the harvest and the beginning of winter. The feast coincides with the end of the Octave of Allhallowtide or All Saints’ Day. The day marked the end of the harvest season and beginning of winter and the ‘winter revelling season’. Traditions include ‘Martinmas goose’ or ‘Martinmas beef’, drinking the first wine of the season, and mumming.
Saint Martin of Tours (died 397 CE) was a Roman soldier who was baptised as an adult and became a bishop in Gaul. He is best known for the legend whereby he cut his cloak in half with his sword to give half to a beggar who was dressed in only rags in the depth of winter. That night Saint Martin had a vision of Christ wearing the half-cloak.
There was a common belief in Co Wexford to never go fishing on 10 November (Saint Martin’s Eve) or 11 November (Saint Martin’s Day). Wexford fishermen had many superstitions about the day, and many herring boats would never venture out on this night or the night before, in some cases, no matter how good the conditions or the fishing were.
There are many accounts of tragedies in folklore relating to fishermen who ignored this custom, from Arklow to Wexford Town to Ballyhealy. The best-known account dates back to 1702 in Wexford Bay. One well-documented account relates to Saint Martin’s Eve and a disaster in Wexford Bay in 1762, when 70 fishermen from Wexford Town were drowned when they did not pay heed to the warning to stay off the sea. It was recalled by John Boyle O’Reilly in his poem ‘The Fishermen of Wexford’.
Saint Martin’s Day has lost some of its cultural significance, and there are few places where it is a significant day in the Church Calendar. But to mark the day, I thought I would offer a ‘virtual tour’ today of 12 cathedrals, churches and chapels dedicated to Saint Martin, including three cathedrals (Leicester, Bratislava and Lucca), and spread across five countries: England, Ireland, Italy, Sarawak in Malaysia and Slovakia.
1, Cathedral Church of Saint Martin, Leicester:
Leicester Cathedral … the 220-ft spire was added in 1862 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Leicester Cathedral, or the Cathedral Church of Saint Martin, is near the centre of the mediaeval old town and is best-known today as the burial place of King Richard III. Over 100,000 people visit Leicester Cathedral every year, mainly to see the tomb of the last English monarch to die in battle.
Leicester Cathedral has been a cathedral since 1927, following the formation of a new Diocese of Leicester the previous year. In terms of size, it is the fifth smallest cathedral in the Church of England – smaller than Christ Church, Oxford, but bigger than the cathedrals in Birmingham, Chelmsford, Carlisle and Derby.
The Middle Angles had a bishopric in 680 and the Anglo-Saxon cathedral may have stood close to or on the site of the present cathedral in Leicester. Affter the invasion by the Danes ca 870 and the establishment of the Danelaw in 886, the seat of the diocese moved first to Dorchester and then to Lincoln.
The 19th century suffragan bishops of Leicester were part of the Diocese of Peterborough until the Diocese of Leicester was formed in 1926, and Saint Martin’s Church, Leicester, became the cathedral of the new see. The seven figures in sandstone niches on the south porch or ‘Vaughan Porch’ embody the story of the diocese and the cathedral.
Leicester Cathedral has a large nave and chancel with two chancel chapels, and a 220-ft tower and spire that were added in the 1860s. The restoration projects over the centuries include work by the Victorian architect John Raphael Rodrigues Brandon (1817-1877), and the building appears largely Gothic in style today.
Saint Martin’s Church was built on the site of Roman ruins. Archaeological discoveries show evidence of a Roman building on the site, with many believing it was the site of a Roman temple.
The church is dedicated to Saint Martin of Tours, a fourth century Roman officer who became a bishop. Parts of the present church can be traced to a 12th century Norman church that was rebuilt in the 13th and 15th centuries. In the Middle Ages, its site next to the Guild Hall made Saint Martin’s the civic church of Leicester, with strong ties to the merchants and guilds of the town.
Much of the present building is predominantly Victorian, including the tower, completed in 1862, and the 220-ft spire added in 1867. This Victorian work by the architect Raphael Brandon is in the Early English style, although his work in other parts of the church is in the perpendicular style. The architectural historian Sir Nikolaus Pevsner says the tower and spire are ‘intentionally impressive’.
Over 100,000 people visit Leicester Cathedral every year, mainly to see the tomb of Richard III, the last English monarch to die in battle (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
The Chapel of Christ the King, with the Great East Window, was created at the east end of the cathedral in the former chancel as part of re-ordering the cathedral for the burial of Richard III.
The East Window, a monument to the dead of World War I, features unusual but beautiful colours of stained glass designed by Christopher Whall. Christ the King sits enthroned, with one hand raised in blessing and the other holding a starry orb, his feet resting on the earth or creation.
Surrounding the figure of Christ are eight angels with wings made from a red glass. To the left and right stand Saint George and Saint Michael the Archangel, each standing on a vanquished dragon. The bottom row depicts the deposition from the cross in the three centre panels, with Saint Joan of Arc and Saint Martin of Tours in the side panels.
Richard III was killed in 1485 at the Battle of Bosworth Field in Leicestershire and was buried hastily, with little ceremony, in the Greyfriars, Leicester. Leicester City Council, the University of Leicester, and the Richard III Society, inspired by the work of Philippa Langley, began a search for his remains at a car park in August 2012. His remains were exhumed and following DNA testing were confirmed in February 2013.
After five days of commemorative events, Richard III was reburied in Leicester Cathedral on 26 March 2015 at a service conducted by Archbishop Justin Welby of Canterbury and the Irish-born Dean of Leicester, the Very Revd David Monteith.
2, Saint Martin’s Cathedral, Bratislava:
Saint Martin’s Cathedral was built into the walled fortifications of the old town of Bratislava (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Saint Martin’s Cathedral in Bratislava stands at the western edge of the old city centre in the capital of Slovakia, beneath the slopes of Bratislava Castle. Its 85 metre spire dominates the skyline of the old town; it is the largest and one of the oldest churches in Bratislava, and it was used as the coronation church of the Kingdom of Hungary from 1563 to 1830.
Long before the cathedral was built, the site had been the crossroads in the old town centre, with a market and perhaps also a chapel. At the time, the main centre of worship was a chapel in Bratislava Castle that was used by the provost and chapter of Bratislava. An earlier Moravian church built in the eight century was replaced by a second church dedicated to the Saviour. It was rebuilt in 1221, and the site is still marked out on the castle hill.
As Bratislava grew, the church became insufficient for its needs, and the building of a new, three-nave, Gothic cathedral began in 1311 on the site of an earlier church and cemetery. The church was built as part of the city walls, and its tower served as a defensive bastion in the mediaeval city fortifications.
The building project was delayed due to its location of the site and a lack of funding in the early 15th century, and came to a halt during the Hussite Wars. The cathedral was finally completed and consecrated in 1452, although work continued into the 15th century.
Georg Rafael Donner’s sculpture in the cathedral in Bratislava shows Saint Martin as a Hungarian hussar (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Saint Martin’s was the coronation church for Hungarian kings and their consorts from 1563 to 1830. It became the coronation church in succession to the Church of the Virgin Mary in Székesfehérvár, after that city was conquered by the Ottomans. The Crown of Saint Stephen was placed on the head of Maximilian II, son of Emperor Ferdinand I of Habsburg, in 1563.
In all, 11 kings and queens and eight of their consorts from the Habsburg dynasty were crownedt here between 1563 and 1830, including Maria Theresa of Austria. This role is marked to this day by the 300 kg gilded replica of the Hungarian royal crown perched on top of the 85-metre-tall neo-Gothic tower.
The first monumental work of central-European sculpture made from lead can be found inside the cathedral. It depicts Saint Martin as a typical Hungarian hussar on his horse, bending to a beggar and cutting his coat to share it with a poor beggar. It was created by Georg Rafael Donner for the main altar in 1734, but this now stands in a side nave as a free-standing statue.
The cathedral nave has three aisles divided by two rows of eight columns (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
The top of the Gothic tower was struck by lightning in 1760 and later replaced by a Baroque tower. This was later destroyed by fire in 1835 and rebuilt in 1847 and topped with a gold-plated replica of the crown of Saint Stephen.
The cathedral was ‘re-Gothicised’ in 1869-1877 after it was damaged by fire, war, earthquake and other disasters. The three crypts under the cathedral include the archbishops’ crypt, the Jesuit crypt and the Pálffy family crypt.
The cathedral serves the Archdiocese of Bratislava, first formed in 1922. Pope Paul VI made it a diocese and renamed it the Archdiocese of Trnava in 1977, and it was renamed the Archdiocese of Bratislava-Trnava in 1995. The Archdiocese of Bratislava was formed in 2008, and its seat was moved from Trnava to Bratislava, which became the seat of the Slovak church.
The cathedral was declared a national cultural monument since in 2002. Since 2003, the cathedral’s former role as the coronation church of Hungarian monarchs has been celebrated in style and with fun at the beginning of September each year, when the pomp and circumstance of the coronation procession returns to Bratislava in a reconstruction of the ceremony.
3, Cattedrale di San Martino, Lucca (Duomo di Lucca):
Lucca Cathedral or the Duomo di Lucca or Cattedrale di San Martino is dedicated to Saint Martin of Tours (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Lucca was saved from bombing during World War II, leaving intact the walls, the tiny squares, the narrow streets and the alleyways, with their fountains, statues, and mediaeval churches.
Lucca was the birthplace of Puccini, and there is a bronze statue of the composer in the square close to the house where he was born. The squares of Lucca have statues of Garibaldi and links with Napoleon, and there are many churches in the narrow streets and alleyways, including the Church of San Michele and the duomo or Cattedrale di San Martino.
Lucca Cathedral or the Duomo di Lucca or Cattedrale di San Martino is dedicated to Saint Martin of Tours. Building work was begun in 1063 by Bishop Anselm of Lucca, later Pope Alexander II.
The great apse, with its tall columns and arcades, and the campanile survive from the original building. The nave and transepts were rebuilt in the Gothic style in the 14th century. The west front was begun in 1204 by Guido Bigarelli of Como, and has a vast portico of three magnificent arches, with three ranges of open galleries filled with sculptures above.
A small shrine in the nave holds the Volto Santo di Lucca (‘Holy Face of Lucca’), said to be an image of Christ carved from cedar-wood for a crucifix by Nicodemus, and brought miraculously to Lucca in 782. The figure of Christ is clothed in a long sleeveless garment. The cathedral also has works by Matteo Civitali, Jacopo della Quercia, Domenico Ghirlandaio, Federico Zuccari, Jacopo Tintoretto and Fra Bartolomeo.
Religious symbolism in the narrow streets and lanes of Lucca (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Each column of the façade is different. According to local lore, when they were about to be decorated, the people of Lucca announced a contest for the best column. Each artist made a column, but the people decided to take all of them without paying the artists and used all the columns.
A labyrinth embedded in the right pier of the portico is believed to date from the 12th or 13th century, and may pre-date the labyrinth in Chartres. The Latin inscription translates: ‘This is the labyrinth built by Dedalus of Crete; all who entered therein were lost, save Theseus, thanks to Ariadne’s thread.’
The Church of Santi Giovanni e Reparata in Piazza San Giovanni was the first seat of the Bishops of Lucca, and was the cathedral from the eighth century until the cathedra was transferred to San Martino. Since then, the two churches have retained a close relationship.
The Santa Reparata complex was built in the fifth century on the site of an earlier Roman settlement. The area became a cemetery in the sixth century, and a church was built there in the eighth century.
4, Saint Martin-in-the Fields, London:
Saint Martin-in-the-Fields, facing onto Trafalgar Square, is one of the best-known churches in London (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Saint Martin-in-the-Fields has a prominent position looking out across Trafalgar Square that makes it one of the best-known churches in London. Architecturally, spiritually, culturally and socially, Saint Martin’s has helped to form the world around it, and it is a welcoming place where people of different faiths regularly pray together.
For many years, a photograph of a former Vicar of Saint Martin’s, Canon Dick Sheppard, hung over my desk in my study in a house in Dublin where I lived for 20 years until the mid-1990s. His pacifism and his social activism were among the many influences on the development of my Anglicanism and my spirituality.
Saint Martin’s was involved in founding the Anti-Apartheid Movement and many other campaigns and charities, including Amnesty International, Shelter and The Big Issue, and over the decades has been supportive of the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament and Christian CND. It is one of the churches in London that is a joy to drop into, whether to have coffee or lunch in the crypt or to pray in the church.
There has been a church on the site since at least the medieval period, when the area was farmlands and fields beyond the London wall. The site is outside the city limits of Roman London, a mile west of Ludgate, and excavations have uncovered burials dating from around the year 350. But the earliest surviving reference to the church is in 1222.
Henry VIII rebuilt the church in 1542 to keep plague victims away from the Palace of Whitehall. At this time, the church was ‘in the fields’, in an isolated position between the cities of Westminster and London. It was enlarged eastward over the old burial ground in 1606, when it was ‘repaired and beautified.’
Galleries were added later in the 17th century to accommodate more people, and burials there in the 17th century included Robert Boyle and Nell Gwyn. Parliament passed an act in 1720 to rebuild the church, and the architect James Gibbs was commissioned to design the new church.
The foundation stone of the new church was laid on 19 March 1722, and the last stone of the spire was put in position in December 1724. Gibbs drew on the works of Sir Christopher Wren in his plans, but departed from Wren’s practice in his integration of the tower into the church. The spire rises 59 metres (192 ft) above the level of the church floor.
Inside Saint Martin-in-the-Fields … architecturally, spiritually, culturally and socially it has helped to shape the world around it (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
The work of the church today is informed by the practical Christianity, exemplified in the life of its patron saint. After a career in the Roman army, Saint Martin became Bishop of Tours. In an instinctive act of generosity, he shared his cloak with a beggar. But the ultimate blessing was given to Saint Martin when the beggar returned to him in a dream as Christ.
The example of Saint Martin was followed by Canon Hugh Richard Laurie (Dick) Sheppard (1880-1937), who was the Vicar of Saint Martin’s from 1914-1927. During World War I, he gave refuge to soldiers on their way to France. He began programmes for the area’s homeless and saw Saint Martin’s as ‘the church of the ever-open door’ – and the doors have remained open ever since.
His book We Say No (1935) was published a year before he founded the Peace Pledge Union in 1936, and he was involved in the formation of the Anglican Pacifist Fellowship shortly before he died.
Dick Sheppard’s immediate successor, Canon William Patrick Glyn (‘Pat’) McCormick (1877-1940), who was vicar in 1927-1940, came from a prominent Irish clerical (and cricket playing) family. His father, Canon Joseph McCormick (1834-1914), played cricket for Ireland under the alias of J Bingley, the name of one of the schools he had attended, to disguise his participation from his parishioners in Dunmore East, Co Waterford.
Pat McCormick was an international cricketer and rugby player, and was supported by SPG (now USPG) as a priest working in South Africa in 1903-1914. At Saint Martin-in-the-Fields, he did much to help the homeless and poor, he regularly preached on BBC Radio and was the first clergyman to appear on British television. During his time, the crypt in Saint Martin’s was restored in 1937.
With changing needs in society in the 1960s, Saint Martin’s was concerned for the welfare of new arrivals in the emerging Chinatown and welcomed a Chinese congregation. Today, the Ho Ming Wah Chinese People’s Day Centre provides vital services for the Chinese community in London.
The church has a close relationship with the royal family, whose parish church it is, and with 10 Downing Street and the Admiralty. But it is also familiar to anyone and everyone who has taken part in a protest that has ended in Trafalgar Square.
A new East Window designed by Shirazeh Houshiary, the Iranian-born English sculptor, artist and painter, was installed above the High Altar in 2008 to mark the final stage of the project. The Altar was designed by Shirazeh Houshiary and Pip Horne, creators of the East Window, and was dedicated at the Patronal Festival of Saint Martin of Tours on 13 November 2011. Mike Chapman’s sculpture ‘In the Beginning’ was commissioned to mark the new millennium and was part of the 1999 Trafalgar Square Christmas celebrations. Carved in a 4.5 tonne block of Portland Stone, it is permanently on display at the entrance to the church.
5, Saint Martin within Ludgate, London:
Saint Martin within Ludgate, a Guild Church and a Wren Church just a few steps west of Saint Paul’s Cathedral (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Saint Martin within Ludgate is a Guild Church and a Wren Church on Ludgate Hill, just a few steps west of Saint Paul’s Cathedral and almost opposite City Thameslink station (Ludgate Hill exit). After the Great Fire of London, the church was rebuilt by Sir Christopher Wren in 1677-1684.
The church takes its name from Saint Martin of Tours, a patron saint of travellers. Churches dedicated to him often stand within city gates. Ludgate was the westernmost gate in London Wall. The name survives in Ludgate Hill, an eastward continuation of Fleet Street, Ludgate Circus and Ludgate Square.
William Penn, who was married in the church in 1643, was the father of William Penn, the Quaker founder of Pennsylvania.
Inside Saint Martin within Ludgate … rebuilt by Wren after the Great Fire (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
The Great Fire of London engulfed Saint Martin’s on 4 September 1666. Rebuilding was not immediate, was largely completed by 1680, but not finally until 1703. At the same time the church was set back from the old site, as Ludgate Hill was widened.
Saint Martin’s is one of Wren’s later rebuildings and its slender lead spire was most carefully considered in relation to the dome of Saint Paul’s Cathedral. The view eastward from Ludgate Circus towards Saint Paul’s is one of the most memorable in London.
From the lower part of Fleet Street, the steeple of Saint Martin’s stands between the viewer and the dome of Saint Paul’s. Wren’s steeple at Saint Martin’s has a sharp obelisk steeple that has been described as ‘somewhat like an exclamation mark!’
An interesting feature inside is the 17th century baptismal font has a Greek palindrome: Νιψον Ανομηματα Μη Μοναν Οψιν (Nipson anomemata me monan opsin, ‘Cleanse my sin and not my face only’).
6, Saint Martin’s, Carfax Tower, Oxford:
Carfax Tower is all that survives of Saint Martin’s Church, Oxford, after it was pulled down in 1896 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Carfax Tower at the junction of Saint Aldate’s, Cornmarket, Queen Street and High Street in Oxford, is all that remains of the 12th century Saint Martin’s Church. The tower, also known as Saint Martin’s Tower, is a prominent landmark, and Carfax is regarded as the centre of Oxford.
The name ‘Carfax’ derives from the Latin quadrifurcus through the French carrefour, meaning ‘crossroads’. Although the name Carfax is often used to refer to the tower, it is properly the name of the crossroads, and the tower is Carfax Tower, or, more accurately, Saint Martin’s Tower.
The Church of Saint Martin of Tours was the official City Church of Oxford and the Mayor and civic officials were expected to worship there, from ca 1122 until 1896, when the church was demolished. At least 20 Mayors of Oxford were buried in the church, dating back to Richard Carey in 1349. It is possible that council meetings were held in the church before Oxford had a dedicated city hall.
The Mayor and Corporation appointed the Rector and four City Lecturers. Sermons were given by each of four city lecturers in turn, and it was customary for the Rector to be one of the lecturers.
Saint Martin’s was demolished in 1820 after the building had become unstable, but the 13th century west tower was spared, a new church was built, and it opened in June 1822. The new Gothic Revival church had large traceried windows and a large clock facing onto Carfax. Inside, the church had a Corporation Pew for civic officials and, unusually, a Ladies’ Corporation Pew.
Eventually, the second Saint Martin’s Church was pulled down in 1896 when the roads were widened to improve traffic flow. But this remains one of the busiest junction in Oxford and it is also a popular gathering place for tourists and tour groups.
The ‘Quarterboys’ hammer out the quarter hour on a pair of 19th century bells on Carfax Tower in Oxford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
When Saint Martin’s Church was demolished, the tower was spared. The civic church was moved to All Saints’ Church on High Street, and it remained the City Church for 75 years. When All Saints’ Church became the library of Lincoln College, Saint Michael at the North Gate, Cornmarket, became the City Church.
A solitary gravestone behind Carfax Tower commemorates William Butler, a former Mayor of Oxford, who died in 1865. He was buried in Saint Martin’s churchyard with his wife Elizabeth and their daughters. When Saint Martin’s was demolished, the grave was overlooked and remains in place.
The clock on the east side of Carfax is a copy of the original church clock, with mechanical figures called ‘quarterboys’ that hammer out the quarter hour on a pair of late 19th century bells, cast by John Taylor & Co of Loughborough in 1898. The clock’s current dial and surroundings were designed by Sir TG Jackson and installed in 1898. The clock mechanism was replaced in 1938-1939 with an electric one made by Gents’ of Leicester. The tower also has a ring of six bells.
The tower is 23 metres (74 ft) high, with views out across Oxford. Carfax plays a role in the disciplinary regulations of the University of Oxford comparable to the role of Saint Mary the Great in Cambridge. For example, the university requires some students to reside within six miles (9.7 km) of Carfax.
7, Saint Martin in the Bull Ring, Birmingham:
Saint Martin in the Bull Ring is 19th century Victorian Gothic revival on the outside, but inside has 12th and 13th century carvings and tombs (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
I have known the Church of Saint Martin in the Bull Ring, the original parish church in Birmingham, since my teens, travelling between Birmingham and Lichfield, and have also visited it when I have been in Birmingham for USPG meetings.
Saint Martin’s is known as ‘the Mother Church of Birmingham’ and stands between the Bull Ring Shopping Centre and the markets. The Selfridge’s building facing Saint Martin’s in the Bull Ring has become a modern architectural symbol of Birmingham.
The name of Birmingham is Anglo-Saxon, but it is not known whether there was a church there at that time. When the new town of Birmingham was developed at the time of the Market Charter of 1166, Peter de Birmingham may have moved his manor house to the Moat Lane site and built Saint Martin’s as a new church.
The present Victorian church was built on the site of a 13th century predecessor, which dated from 1263 or earlier. The church was enlarged in mediaeval times, with a lofty nave and chancel, north and south aisles and a north-west tower with a spire. By the mid-16th century, the church had a clock and chime maintained by the Guild of the Holy Cross at an annual cost of four shillings and four pence.
John Cheshire rebuilt 40 ft of the spire in 1781, which was strengthened by an iron spindle running up its centre for a length of 105 ft. It was secured to the sidewalls at every 10 feet by braces. Several metres from the top of the spire were replaced in 1801, when they were found to have decayed. The tops of the four pinnacles surrounding the main spire were also rebuilt. By 1808, the spire had been struck by lightning three times.
The brick casing was removed from the tower in 1853 by Philip Charles Hardwick, who added the open-air pulpit.
The church was demolished in 1873 and rebuilt by the Birmingham architect Julius Alfred Chatwin (1830-1907), who retained the earlier tower and spire. During the demolition, mediaeval wall paintings and decorations were found in the chancel, including one showing the charity of Saint Martin dividing his cloak with a beggar. Two painted beams were also found behind the plaster ceiling.
Inside Saint Martin in the Bull Ring, Birmingham (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
The exterior is built of rock-faced Grinshill stone. The interior is of sandstone with an open timber roof, which shows the influence of the great hammerbeam roof of Westminster Hall, where Chatwin had worked under Charles Barry and AWN Pugin. Chatwin also enlarged Saint Philip’s Cathedral, Birmingham m in 1884-1888.
The beams are decorated with fine tracery and end in large carvings of angels. The roof weights 93 tons (94.5 tonnes), spans 6.7 metres over the 30.4 metre long nave and is 18.2 metres high.
The Victorian floor tiles are by Minton and display the quartered arms of the de Bermingham family. From east to west, the length of the church is 47 metres (155 ft), including the chancel, the arch of which rises to 18 metres (60 ft).
The Pre-Raphaelite window in the South Transept by Sir Edward Burne-Jones was made by William Morris in 1875. The West window is a copy made in 1954 of the window made by Henry Hardman in 1875 and destroyed in the Blitz.
The mediaeval-style stone statues on the north and west fronts were designed by Chatwin and sculpted by Robert Bridgeman’s of Lichfield. They depict King Richard I in commemoration of his visit to Birmingham ca 1189 confirming the market charter, and Saint Martin of Tours giving his cloak to a beggar.
8, Saint Martin le Grand, York:
Saint Martin le Grand is the official civic church of York (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Saint Martin le Grand on the south side of Coney Street in York is dedicated Saint Martin of Tours, and while the church is generally known as Saint Martin le Grand, this title was coined in the 1830s and is not its official name.
The church is the official civic church of York and was described in Victorian times as ‘one of the most beautiful churches in the city.’
The earliest masonry is from ca 1080, although the church is thought to be older. The tower was built in the 15th century.
The church was restored in 1853-1854 by JB and W Atkinson of York. The south side and east ends of the aisles were rebuilt, and the pierced battlement was added, to replace one removed 40 years earlier. The porch was added at the east end into Coney Street, and a south porch also added near the tower. New stained glass windows by William Wailes were added.
The church is known for the prominent clock on the east front overhanging the street. The clock was added in 1856 by Mr Cooke, with a carved figure of the ‘Little Admiral’ dating from 1778 – although the admiral seemed to be on shore leave on recent occasions when I went looking for him during visits to York.
The church was largely destroyed in a bombing raid on 29 April 1942, but the 15th century tower and south aisle remain, with a new vestry and parish room at the west end of the site. The Saint Martin window (ca 1437) was removed before the raid for safety. It now occupies a new transept opposite the south door, and it is the largest mediaeval window in York outside the Minster.
The church restoration by the architect George Gaze Pace in 1961-1968 is considered one of the most successful post-war church restorations in England, successfully blending the surviving 15th-century remains with contemporary elements. The reredos screen was designed by Frank Roper.
The tower of Saint Martin-cum-Gregory, now a Stained Glass Centre (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Another church dedicated to Saint Martin in York is the Church of Saint Martin-cum-Gregory in the Parish of Holy Trinity, Micklegate, now a stained glass centre. The church was originally only dedicated to Saint Martin, but acquired its present name when it merged with Saint Gregory’s Church in 1585.
The church dates from the 11th century. Part of the nave and the north and south arcades date from the 13th century, the north aisle dates form the mid-14th century, and the chancel, chapels and arcades were rebuilt around 1430.
The north porch was added in 1655, and the west tower was refaced with brick in 1677. The clock was added in 1680. The upper stages of the tower were rebuilt again in 1844-1845 by JB and W Atkinson of York.
The church was restored in 1875 when the interior was cleared of the old square pews, the west gallery and the organ. The floor was levelled and laid with red and black tiles. The columns, arcades and walls were scraped and repaired. The roof of the nave was restored and painted. The organ was enlarged by Mr Denman of Skeldergate. New seating was fitted in the nave and Gurney stoves were introduced for heating.
A further restoration was carried out in 1894, when the chancel was re-roofed. The parish was united with Holy Trinity Church, Micklegate, in 1953. After being made redundant, the church served as a public hall. Since 2008, it has been developed as a stained-glass centre and it is an occasional arts venue.
9, Saint Martin-at-Palace, Norwich:
Saint Martin at Palace Plain is close to the Law Courts in Norwich (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Saint Martin at Palace Plain was a casualty of parochial re-ordering in Norwich and closed in 1971. The church is mediaeval but was heavily restored by Edward Hakewill in the mid 19th century.
After it closed, the church was used as the store for the Diocesan Furnishings Officer, re-homing unneeded church furniture. It was taken over by the Probation Service in 1987, because it is conveniently close to the Law Courts.
MoveOn East, the successor of the Probation Service, left the building in 2012, and it stood empty until 2017, when the NHCT relocated its administrative offices there.
The site of Saint Martin in Balliva … totally demolished in 1562 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
There was another church in mediaeval Norwich dedicated to Saint Martin: the Church of Saint Martin in Balliva was also known as Saint Martin in the Bailey, and was referred to as at ‘Ber Street’ or at ‘Timber Hill.’
There was a church on the site during the mediaeval period. A fraternity of friars had a house in the churchyard before they were joined to the Whitefriars or Carmelites.
The church was totally demolished in 1562, when the parish was united with Saint Michael’s. At one time, all persons dying in the castle and all criminals executed. were buried in the churchyard. When the church was demolished, this right was transferred to Saint Michael’s at Thorn.
10, Saint Martin of Tours Church, Culmullen, Co Meath:
The Church of Saint Martin of Tours in Culmullen, Co Meath … designed by William Hague (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
The Roman Catholic parish church in Culmullen, near Dunshaughlin, Co Meath, is dedicated to Saint Martin of Tours and was renovated in 1989, but dates back to last quarter of the 19th century.
This is a single-cell Gothic Revival church designed in 1876 by the architect William Hague (1840–1899), a protégé of AWN Pugin. Hague was active as a church architect in Ireland throughout the mid and late 19th century, working mainly from his offices at 50 Dawson Street, Dublin. He was born in Co Cavan, the son of William Hague, a builder from Butlersbirdge who moved to Cavan town in 1838. William Hague jr designed several churches in Ireland, many in the French Gothic style. He was a pupil of Sir Charles Barry (1795-1860), the English architect who designed the Houses of Parliament in Westminster.
Hague opened an office at 175 Great Brunswick Street, Dublin, in 1861. Later he supervised the completion of the unfinished church of Saint Augustine and Saint John in Thomas Street (John’s Lane), Dublin, begun by Pugin’s son, Edward Pugin, and George Coppinger Ashlin in 1862.
In the year Saint Martin’s Church was built in Culmullen, Hague married Anne Frances Daly, the daughter of a Dublin solicitor, Vesey Daly of Eccles Street. They were married in Saint Michan’s Church, Dublin, on 26 April 1876, and they were the parents of two sons, William Vesey Hague, the writer and philosopher, and Joseph Patrick Clifford Hague, and two daughters.
Hague had a flourishing practice, particularly as a prolific designer of Roman Catholic churches, designing or altering 40 to 50 throughout Ireland. He was the architect to Saint Patrick’s Catholic Cathedral, Armagh, in the 1880s and 1890s.
A plaque in Saint Martin of Tours Church, Culmullen, Co Meath, remembers Maurice James Dease, who received the first VC awarded in World War I (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Saint Martin’s Church in Culmullen, which was dedicated on 1 September 1878, was built by Hall and Son. The church is a good example of Gothic Revival church architecture. It is worth looking out for is the use of structural polychromy throughout the exterior which adds textural contrast with the rock-faced limestone. The conical bell tower and stained glass give artistic effect.
The church is built of rock-faced limestone with polychrome brick detailing and string courses. It has a pitched two-tone natural slate roof, with decorative terracotta ridge tiles and cast-iron rainwater goods.
There is a five-bay nave with pointed-arched stained glass windows, some in pairs, and stone sills. The windows are by Early and Powell, who worked in many of the Pugin and Gothic Revival churches in Ireland. The gable-fronted west porch has a pointed-arch door opening with brick surrounds and a pair of timber doors. The bell tower is designed on a rectangular plan with conical slate spire, and is topped with a cast-iron weather vane, attached to the west at the junction of the nave and the chancel.
There is a single-bay chancel to the north with a gable-fronted sacristy attached to the west. Three lancet windows illustrating the life story of Saint Martin of Tours light the chancel and the nave is lit by three lancet windows above five smaller lights, all with brick surrounds. Both the nave and chancel gables are surmounted with carved stone crosses. The marble altar was designed by Neill and Co, and the octagonal font is said to be late mediaeval. The roof is supported on king post trusses with diagonal struts.
Hague designed churches, convents, colleges, schools and town halls throughout Ireland. He completed Saint Macartan’s Cathedral, Monaghan, after the death of JJ McCarthy, often known as the ‘Irish Pugin’, and was responsible for the spire, the tower and the interior of McCarthy’s chapel at Saint Patrick’s College, Maynooth, which were completed after his death in 1905. He completed the interior of the Church of Saint Peter and Saint Paul in Monasterevin, Co Kildare, in 1880, when Bishop Michael Comerford was the parish priest. He also designed many of the buildings at Saint Patrick’s College, Maynooth, and Saint Eunan’s Cathedral, Letterkenny, Co Donegal.
The Presentation depicted in a stained glass window in the Church of Saint Martin of Tours, Culmullen, Co Meath (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Hague’s acceptance of commissions was ecumenical in scope. His many other works include the Archbishop’s Palace, Drumcondra, Dublin; Belturbet Presbyterian Church, Co Cavan; Cavan Methodist Church; the Protestant Hall, Cavan; Saint Aidan’s Church, Butlersbridge, Co Cavan; Saint Bridget’s Church, Killeshandra, Co Cavan; Saint John’s Church (Church of Ireland), Cloverhill, Butlersbirdge, Co Cavan; Saint Patrick’s Church, Ballybay, Co Monaghan; Saint Patrick’s Church, Trim, Co Meath; Saint Patrick’s College, Cavan; the Town Halls in Carlow and Sligo; Waterside Presbyterian Church, Derry; and the Westenra Arms Hotel, Monaghan.
Hague had become a Justice of the Peace (JP) for Co Cavan by 1885. He died of pneumonia at his house at 21 Upper Mount Street, Dublin, on 22 March 1899 and was buried at Glasnevin Cemetery three days later.
He worked from: 175 Great Brunswick Street, Dublin, and Cavan (1861-1872); 44 Westland Row and Cavan (1872-1877); 44 Westland Row (1879); 40 Dawson Street, Dublin (1879-1881); 62 Dawson Street (1881-1887); and 50 Dawson Street (1888-1899). He lived at 21 Upper Mount Street, and Kilnacrott House, Ballyjamesduff, Co Cavan.
After his death, his former student and managing assistant, Thomas Francis McNamara (1867-1947), took over most of his work under the business name of Hague & McNamara.
11, San Martino Vescovo (Saint Martin the Bishop), Burano, Venice:
The Chiesa San Martino Vescovo or the Church of Saint Martin the Bishop in Burano is known for its leaning tower (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
The Chiesa San Martino Vescovo or the Church of Saint Martino the Bishop is a 16th or 17th century church on Piazza Baldassarre Galuppi, the main square on the small island of Burano in the Venetian Lagoon. It can be seen from a distance in the Lagoon, marked out by its leaning tower.
This is a large church for such a small island. The first church on the site was built in the ninth century, and some time after the year 1000 the parish church was dedicated to Saint Martin of Tours. It has been restored and rebuilt several times, and it took its present appearance between 1500 and 1600.
The restored or rebuilt church was reconsecrated on 29 October 1645 by the Bishop of Torcello, Marco Antonio Martinengo.
Seen from outside, the church seems to have no main entrance. In fact, it is entered at the side through a Renaissance door beside the neighbouring Chapel of Santa Barbara. This entrance consists of a vast atrium, with an 18th century statue of the Madonna attributed to Girolamo Bonazza.
The interior, in Lombard-Baroque style, is in the shape of a Latin cross, with three naves ending in a chapel, divided by neoclassical pillars supporting full-arched arches and ending in Corinthian-style capitals. The floor has typical red and white square tiles.
The central nave, including the chancel and choir, is about 47 metres long and has a barrel-vaulted ceiling. The high altar is adorned with six elegant columns of red marble from France and another four from ancient oriental marble. The altar, built in 1673, has a large Baroque tabernacle with a small bronze statue of the Risen Christ above.
The unsafe central nave was renovated in 1867. The vault of the side naves and the central transept fell in 1874. In May 1913, a fire destroyed the ceiling of the main nave in May 1913, and the organ, built by Callido in 1767, was destroyed too. Callido’s organ was considered among the best organ masterpieces in Venice, and was replaced by an organ built by the Mascioni firm of Cuvio.
The unsafe central nave was renovated in 1867. The vault of the side naves and the central transept fell in 1874. In May 1913, a fire destroyed the ceiling of the main nave in May 1913, and the organ, built by Callido in 1767, was destroyed too. Callido’s organ was considered among the best organ masterpieces in Venice, and was replaced by an organ built by the Mascioni firm of Cuvio.
The works of art in the church include ‘The Crucifixion’ (1725) by Giambattista Tiepolo, showing the Madonna collapsed at the foot of the Cross, grey with grief. This ambitious early work by Tiepolo was strongly influenced by Tintoretto’s ‘Crucifixion’ in the Scuola di San Rocco.
There are statues of Sant’ Albano and San Martino, both by Girolamo Bonazza, and works by Francesco Fontabasso, Giovanni Mansueti and Girolamo da Santacroce. The icon near the main altar is a 19th century copy of the Russian icon of the Madonna of Kazan, a masterpiece of enamelwork with astonishingly bright, lifelike eyes.
Inside the Chiesa San Martino Vescovo or the Church of Saint Martin the Bishop on the island of Burano (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
The church is best known for its leaning tower, built on a square shape with Renaissance and neoclassical architectural features. It is 53 meters high and it on a base 6.2 metres wide. But, due to land subsidence, the tower has inclined by 1.83 meters from its axis.
The tower has undergone several restorations over the centuries, especially in the upper part of the belfry. The most notable maintenance works were carried out by Tirali in 1703-1714.
The top of the tower was crowned by an angel until it fell in a storm in 1867 and was replaced with a cross of iron.
The Oratory of Saint Barbara (Oratorio di Santa Barbara) next door contains relics of the saint who is said to have been martyred in Heliopolis or Nicomedia in the year 290. The Emperor Justin II exhumed her body in Nicomedia in 565 and moved her relics to the Church of the Holy Saviour in Constantinople. Her relics were taken from Constantinople to Venice by the Doge Pietro Orseolo II in 1003 and placed in the ducal chapel.
Her remains were moved to the Church of San Giovanni Evangelista on Torcello in 1009. They remained there for eight centuries, until it was suppressed by Napoleon I in 1806. They were moved with the remains of San Sisinnio, a bishop, to the Church of San Martino in Burano on 10 March 1811.
12, Saint Martin’s Chapel, Nyiru Grait, Sarawak:
Saint Martin’s Chapel in Nyiru Grait was consecrated in 1996 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
It is now two years since the Revd Dr Jeffry Renos Nawie took two of us on whirlwind tours of several churches and chapels in the Diocese of Kuching in Sarawak, including parishes and mission areas in vast rural areas south of Kuching.
Nyiru Grait is a village with a Bidayuh majority, with small Chinese and Iban minorities. Saint Martin’s Chapel has a Sunday congregation of about 200. The chapel bell was made from an old truck wheel.
Saint Martin’s Chapel was consecrated by Bishop Made Katib of Kuching on 20 April 1996.
A statue of Saint Martin at Saint Martin in the Bull Ring, Birmingham, designed by JA Chatwin and sculpted by Bridgeman’s of Lichfield (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
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