Showing posts with label Advent 2009. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Advent 2009. Show all posts

21 December 2009

There is no Christmas faith without faith in the Resurrection

Saint Thomas the Apostle in a stained-glass window

Patrick Comerford

Today, the singing of O Antiphons was interrupted, and there was no provision for singing an O Aniphon on 21 December, which had once been the feast day of Saint Thomas the Apostle.

Yesterday, the traditional antiphon for 20 December was:

O Oriens, splendor lucis aeternae,
et sol justitiae:
veni, et illumina sedentes in tenebris,
et umbra mortis.

(based on John 8: 12; Hebrews 1: 3; Malachi 4: 2; Luke 1: 79):

O Dayspring, splendour of eternal light,
and sun of righteousness:
Come and enlighten those who dwell in darkness
and the shadow of death

And the traditional antiphon for tomorrow (22 December) is:

O Rex gentium, et desideratus earum,
lapisque angularis, qui facis utraque unum:
veni, et salva hominem, quem de limo formasti
.
(based on Romans 15: 12; Ephesians 2: 14, 20; Genesis 2: 7):

O longed-for King of the nations,
the cornerstone making both one:
Come and save us, whom you formed from the dust.

Between the two days, there was once a major feast day as the Church commemorated Saint Thomas. This commemoration was moved long ago to 3 July in the Western calendars. But I suppose Thomas sat appropriately between an antiphon that looked to the Orient and one that proclaimed Christ as King of the Nations, for tradition says that Thomas may have been the only one among the Twelve to travel beyond the boundaries of the Roman Empire to preach the Gospel, travelling through Persia and to India.

Thomas is named “Thomas, also called the Twin (Didymus).” But the name “Thomas” comes from the Aramaic word for twin, T'oma (תאומא), so there is a tautological wordplay going on here.

Syrian tradition says the apostle’s full name was Judas Thomas, or Jude Thomas, but who was his twin brother (or sister)?

The Temple of Apollo in Didyma ... one of the most important shrines and temples in the classical world to Apollo and his twin sister Artemis (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

I have often visited Didyma on the southern Anatolian coast. There the Didymaion was one of the most important shrines and temples in the classical world to Apollo and his twin sister Artemis. Apollo was the sun-god, the sun of Zeus; he was the patron of shepherds and the guardian of truth, and in Greek and Roman mythology he died and rose again.

Is the story of Thomas’s doubts an invitation to the followers of the cult of Apollo to turn to Christ, the true Son of God the Father, who is the Good Shepherd, who is the way the truth and the light, who has died and who is truly risen?

Thomas appears in a few passages in the Fourth Gospel. In John 11: 16, when Lazarus dies, the disciples resist Christ’s decision to return to Judea, where there had been attempt to stone Jesus. But Jesus is determined, and Thomas says bravely: “Let us also go, that we might die with him.”

Thomas also speaks at the Last Supper (John 14: 5). When Christ assures his disciples that they know where he is going, Thomas protests that they do not know at all. Jesus replies to this and to Philip’s requests with a detailed exposition of his relationship to God the Father.

Thomas is best known for doubting the reports of Christ’s resurrection when he first heard them. Yet he proclaimed “My Lord and my God” when he saw the Risen Christ (John 20: 28).

Although 21 December was the original feast day for Saint Thomas, this was moved in the Roman Calendar to accommodate Saint Peter Canisius, who died on 21 December, and in both the Roman Catholic and Anglican calendars Thomas is now honoured on 3 July, the day on which his relics are said to have been moved from Mylapore, near Madras, on the coast of India, to Edessa in Mesopotamia. After a short stay on the Greek island of Chios, the relics were moved in September 1258 to the West, and are said now rest to be in Ortona in Italy.

In the Orthodox Churches, he is remembered each year on Saint Thomas Sunday, or the Sunday after Easter, and on 6 October.

But recalling that there is no O Antiphon for today is also a reminder of how we should always remember that Christmas points to Easter. It reminds us that the incarnation is not just a nice occasion for a winter festival and giving thanks after the Winter Solstice that the sun is returning and the days lengthening. It reminds us that Christmas Day has no meaning without Good Friday and Easter Day. Christmas faith is only meaningful when it is faith in the Resurrection.

Canon Patrick Comerford is Director of Spiritual Formation, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute and a canon of Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin.

19 December 2009

A real Christmas card for a real Christmas

Patrick Comerford

How many Christmas cards have you received this Christmas? And how many of them depicted the Christmas story, keeping Christ at the heart of Christmas?

The five main characters or sets of characters in the Christmas story – Jesus Christ, the Virgin Mary, Joseph, the Shepherds and the Angels, and the Wise Men – are seen in the icon of the Nativity, which gives us a very different take on the Christmas story than the ones we find on popular Christmas cards.

In the Orthodox tradition, the icon of the Nativity of Christ shows the Creator of the Universe entering history as a new-born babe, and the impact of his birth on the natural life of the world.

The background of the icon traditionally displays an inhospitable world, the world since our expulsion from Paradise. In the centre of the icon are Mary, the central and disproportionately large figure, who is see resting in a cave, and the Christ Child as a baby in a manger wrapped in swaddling clothes. Around the icon, we can see details from the Christmas story.

The icon is rich with theological symbolism.

The Christ Child

The little helpless figure in swaddling clothes represents the complete submission of Christ to the physical conditions governing the human race.

The earth provides him with a cave. The animals watch over him in silent wonder and we humans offer him one of us, the Virgin Mother. His manger is like a coffin and his swaddling clothes are very much like the grave clothes, for this child is born to die.

Far from the Christmas-card image of being born in a sweet, cosy stable, surrounded by cuddly animals and adoring fans, Jesus is born in a dark cave. The craggy rocks above the cave form the shadow of the cross on which he dies.

One very old version of the Christmas story has it that Jesus was born in a cave outside Bethlehem, which is why the icon shows him that way, in the midst of jagged rocks and pitch dark. Christ has come into the world to save it, but that means he has come into a place of darkness and danger. He is in the depths. His birth anticipates his death, just as the gift of myrrh (a spice used in burials) points us to Christ’s death and burial.

So while the nativity is a joyful event, it carries a serious message. Jesus is God with us, God come to live the life of a human being on earth. But he has also come to die, to set us free from our slavery to evil, poverty and injustice. As one writer puts it: “God became a human child so that we might become children of God.”

The Virgin Mary

The Virgin Mary is known in Orthodoxy as the Theotokos, the God-bearer or Mother of God. Although Mary is the most dominant figure in the icon, she is not the most important. Sometimes she is shown kneeling, still concerned.

Mary is right at the centre of the Christmas story, which is why she is at the centre of this icon. It was her “yes” spoken to the angel who told her she would give birth to Jesus which set the whole story in motion. It was her belief that God could do what he promised that made it all possible. And it was she who gave birth and laid her son in a feeding trough for cattle, due to overcrowding in Bethlehem.

In this icon, we see Mary lying on a sort of long, red cushion – it almost looks like a bean bag – with Jesus in his makeshift cot by her side. She is pulling her cloak around her for warmth, and perhaps she is trying to catch some sleep after the exhaustion of giving birth. The icon-writer presents Mary like this to remind us that the birth of Jesus – like any birth – was hard work and that it was a human event. Jesus was fully human. The way Mary wraps herself in her cloak and turns to get some sleep tells us that.

But Jesus was more than just a human being, as we are told in the words of the nativity narratives in the Gospels, and through the images in this icon.

The Star

The sky salutes the Christ Child with a star, the light of wisdom. This is a sign that Christ came for everyone. Some icons have three rays from the star, representing the Holy Trinity.

The Shepherds

The shepherds and the Wise Men or Magi bring their gifts as signs that Christ has come for everyone.

Saint Luke’s Gospel has a special emphasis on the poor and disadvantaged, on people living on the margins of society. While Saint Matthew’s Gospel focuses on the wise men who travelled from the East, Saint Luke’s spotlight falls on these working men, who hear the news about the birth of Jesus from heaven itself.

There shepherds are on the right-hand side of the icon, and one young shepherd is wearing a wreath as he plays his flute, showing the joy of the Good News.

Below the shepherds, their sheep drink in a river. One of the shepherds looks up and is blessed by an angel looking down on him. Luke is the only evangelist to mention the shepherds in his Gospel.

Jesus later said, “I have come to bring good news to the poor.” The shepherds in the story remind us of God’s love for those who are forgotten and left behind in our world.

The Wise Men

The Wise Men are on horseback on the left-hand side of the icon, galloping uphill, their faces turned up looking for the star which has led them there. The wise men are also part of the Christmas story, and they bring not just their strange and exotic gifts but they also bring the world of politics and military power into the story.

King Herod, a violent and cunning ruler who was paranoid about holding on to his power, is alarmed by his unexpected visitors. Eventually, he orders the horrific massacre of all new-born baby boys in Bethlehem in an attempt to liquidate any rival to his throne, no matter how young he may be.

In this icon, the uphill angle of the horses tells of the long, hard journey of the wise men, and how important the event was to them. Perhaps they alone in this story have realised something of what was truly happening. And the speed of their horses tells us of the urgency and danger in their part of the story.

They show how the story of the incarnation of Christ was rooted in the real world of political corruption and intrigue, with a ruler who was prepared to kill anyone who stood in his way. It is this real world of oppression, death and danger that Christ has come to save.

The midwives

The women on the bottom right of the icon are midwives. They tell us that Jesus was born in the normal way and would have needed washing, as a regular human baby does.

The tree

Below the centre of the icon is a tree, representing the Jesse Tree in Old Testament prophecy, which says that a shoot will sprout from the stump of Jesse, the father of King David: “A shoot shall sprout from the stump (tree) of Jesse and from his roots a bud shall blossom. The spirit of the Lord shall rest upon Him” (Isaiah 11: 1-2).

The ox and ass

Christ comes into the world that does not recognise him for who he is. The ox and the ass below the centre of the icon are also referred to in an Old Testament prophecy: “The ox knows his owner, and the donkey his master’s crib, but Israel does not know, my people do not understand” (Isaiah 1: 3). In some icons, the ox and ass are shown near the Christ child, providing warmth from their breath.

Joseph

The Righteous Joseph is shown away from Jesus and the Virgin Mary, to the bottom left. This is to show that he was not involved in the miracle of the Incarnation of the Son of God, but that he was the protector of Mary and Jesus.

Joseph reminds us of a very human dilemma in the Nativity stories: how could Mary be pregnant? It was a scandalous thing (see Matthew 1: 18-24).

From Saint Matthew’s Gospel, it is clear that Joseph did not believe Mary’s explanation of how she had conceived. It was only after a dream that he accepted Mary as his wife.

In the icon, Joseph has his back to Mary, listening to his doubts and fears. He cuts an isolated figure, right at the bottom of the picture, and he looks thoroughly fed up with everything. And yet, despite any lingering doubts he may have harboured, Joseph has an important place in the whole icon. Doubt can help us get honest with God and with ourselves.

The tempting old man

The old man speaking to Joseph represents the devil bringing new doubts to Joseph. The devil suggests that if the infant were truly divine he would not have been born in the human way. This argument, presented in different forms, keeps on reappearing throughout the history of the Church, and is the foundation of many heresies.

In the person of Joseph, the icon discloses not only his personal drama, but the drama of all humanity, the difficulty of accepting that which is beyond reason, the Incarnation of God. But Mary in the centre, from her reclining position at the centre of the icon, looks at Joseph as if trying to overcome his doubts and temptations.

The Angels

The Angels in the icon are glorifying God, tending to the action, and ministering. They are announcing the Good news to the shepherds, or singing. The angels in the middle group are kneeling or bowing in worship before Jesus, lying in his cave, while the angels on the left of the icon are standing like a choir, singing.

Prayer and reflection

Spend a few moments in thought and prayer while you are at your computer or laptop. If it is now night-time, dim or turn off the lights in your room. If it is possible, light a candle or night-light and think of Mary and her “yes” to God. Remember her open-hearted faith.

If you have some of those Christmas cards you have received close to hand, take three or four of them and pray for the people who have sent them to you. If you haven’t, pray for those you are thinking of most at the moment.

Here is a prayer to pray for yourself and others:

May God shield us
May God fill us
May God keep us
May God watch over us.
May God bring us
To the land of peace
To the country of the king
To the peace of eternity.


Have a Happy and a Holy Christmas.

Canon Patrick Comerford is Director of Spiritual Formation, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute and a canon of Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin. This essay was first posted on 20 December 2008

17 December 2009

O come, O come, Emmanuel

O come, O come, Emmanuel … the Holy Family by Giovanni Battista Pittoni, the Altar Piece in the Chapel of Sidney Sussex College, Cambridge, was bought for 20 guineas in 1783 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Patrick Comerford

At the Choral Eucharist in the Institute Chapel yesterday evening – our last before the Christmas holiday – we sang as our recessionary hymn O come, O come, Emmanuel.

The version we sang from the Irish Church Hymnal (Hymn 135) is an adaptation of John Mason Neale’s mid-19th century interpretation of the Latin text, Veni, veni, Emmanuel.

This is a metrical version of a collation of various Advent Antiphons, the acrostic O Antiphons, which may date from at least the eighth century, and certainly from the 12th century. The traditional music associated with this hymn may come from a 15th century processional sung by French Franciscan nuns, but may even have its origins in eighth century Gregorian chant.

For some, this is one of the most solemn Advent hymns. But Advent is not meant to be a penitential season like Lent; rather, it is supposed to be a season of preparation and anticipation, reflection and hope. As Percy Dearmer wrote: “The tendency of the present day to make another Lent of Advent is much to be deprecated. The O Sapientia [the first of O Antiphons] in our Kalendar and the use of Sequences in the old English books may remind us of the spirit of joyful expectation which is the liturgical characteristic of Advent.”

In Advent, as in Lent, Gloria in Excelsis is not said or sung at the Eucharist, including Sunday Eucharists, not for penitential reasons but because it echoes the message of the angels to the shepherds and is held back until Christmas Day.

The refrain in this hymn is based on the prophecy in Isaiah 7: 14, “the young woman is with child and shall bear a son, and shall name him Immanuel.” According to Matthew 1: 23, this promise is fulfilled at the incarnation of Christ in Bethlehem.

The Advent Antiphons

The origins of the Advent Antiphons can be traced to the practice in the mediaeval church of singing a special antiphon before and after the canticles, including Nunc Dimittis and Magnificat, at the evening office of Vespers in order to emphasise a particular point. For example, in the service of Compline, Nunc Dimittis has this antiphon: “Preserve us, O Lord, while waking, and guard us while sleeping, that awake we may watch with Christ, and asleep we may rest in peace” (Book of Commons Prayer 2004, p. 158).

In the days leading up the Christmas, there was a series of seven special antiphons. One was to be sung daily, and in the original Latin each antiphon began with a long-drawn-out “O” – symbolising the longing for the coming of the Messiah.

Each of the seven stanzas addressed the Messiah by one of his titles, each one praising the coming of the Saviour by a different name, and closing with petitions appropriate to the title. In their original order, the “Greater” Antiphons and “The Seven Os” are:

O Sapientia, quae ex ore Altissimi prodiisti,
attingens a fine usque ad finem fortiter,
suavierque disponens omnia:
veni ad docedum nos viam prudentia.

(based on Sirach 24: 3; Wisdom 8:1):

O Wisdom, coming forth from the mouth of the Most High,
and reaching mightily from one end of the earth to the other,
ordering all things well:
Come and teach us the way of prudence.

O Adonai, et dux domus Israel,
qui Moysi in igne flammae rubi apparuisti,
ei in Sinai legem dedisti:
veni ad redimendum nos in brachio extento.

(Exodus 3: 2-6, 6: 6, 19 ff):

O Lord, and leader of the house of Israel,
who appeared to Moses in the fire of the burning bush
and gave him the law on Sinai:
Come and redeem us with an outstretched arm.

O Radix Jesse, qui stas in signum populorum,
super quem continebunt reges os suum,
quem gentes depreca buntur;
veni ad liberandum nos, iam noli tardere.

(Isaiah 11: 10, 52: 15; Romans 15: 11-12):

O Root of Jesse who stood as a standard of the people,
before whom kings shall shut their mouths
and the nations shall seek:
Come and deliver us, and do not delay.

O Clavis David, et sceptrum domus Israel:
qui aperis, et nemo claudit;
claudis, et nemo aperit:
veni et educ vinctum de domo carceris,
sedentem in tenebris, et umbra mortis.

(Isaiah 22: 2, 42: 7; Jeremiah 51: 19; Revelation 3: 7):

O Key of David and sceptre of the House of Israel,
who opens and no-one can shut,
who shuts and non-one can open:
Come and bring the prisoners from the prison house,
those who dwell in darkness and in the shadow of death.

O Oriens, splendor lucis aeternae,
et sol justitiae:
veni, et illumina sedentes in tenebris,
et umbra mortis.

(John 8: 12; Hebrews 1: 3; Malachi 4: 2; Luke 1: 79):

O Dayspring, splendour of eternal light,
and sun of righteousness:
Come and enlighten those who dwell in darkness
and the shadow of death

O Rex gentium, et desideratus earum,
lapisque angularis, qui facis utraque unum:
veni, et salva hominem, quem de limo formasti

(Romans 15: 12; Ephesians 2: 14, 20; Genesis 2: 7):

O longed-for King of the nations,
the cornerstone making both one:
Come and save us, whom you formed from the dust.

O Emmanuel, Rex et legifer noster,
expectatio gentium, et Salvator earum:
veni ad salvandum nos, Domine Deus noster.

(Isaiah 7: 14, 33: 22; Matthew 1: 23; Genesis 49: 10):

O Emmanuel, our King and Lawgiver,
the desire of all nations and their Saviour:
Come and save us, O Lord our God.

William Holman Hunt’s The Light of the World from the cover of last night’s order of service … “O Key of David and sceptre of the House of Israel, who opens and no-one can shut, who shuts and non-one can open”

These seven antiphons were originally sung before and after Magnificat in this period, the Octave before Christmas, from 16 to 23 December. Omitting Saint Thomas’s Day (21 December), these seven days are also known as the Greater Ferias. Of course, there was no provision for 24 December because the Vespers of Christmas Eve are those for the Christmas Vigil.

However, some service books contained eight antiphons, the Sarum Breviary had nine antiphons, and in some traditions there were even as many as 12 antiphons.

One verse was sung or chanted each evening, but they were never sung together as a single hymn, as we sing them today.

The origin of the antiphons

The Advent Antiphons date back at least to the reign of Charlemagne (771-814). The 439 lines of the English poem Christ, by Cynewulf (ca 800), have been described as a loose translation and elaboration of the Antiphons. One source even claims that Boethius (ca 480-524) referred to them, which would suggest they were in use in the fifth or sixth century.

The “O Antiphons” were used so much throughout the monasteries of Europe that the phrases, “Keep your O” and “The Great O Antiphons” were common sayings.

At least two — and up to five — additional verses were later added to the original seven. However, it is clear that the original seven were designed as a group, since their initial letters, ignoring the “O” that precedes each line, spell out the reverse acrostic “sarcore” – “ero cras,” that is, “I shall be [with you] tomorrow.”

In the 12th century, an unknown poet put five of the verses together to form the verses of a single hymn, with the refrain: “Gaude, gaude, Emmanuel nascetur pro te, Israel” (“Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel is born for thee, Israel”). There was no refrain in the original Latin chant.

After the Reformations, the antiphons were recited from 17 December through to 23 December, so that, despite Cranmer’s proposal to remove the Antiphons from public worship, from 1604 on the entry in the calendar of the Book of Common Prayer in the Church of England for yesterday (16 December) and in the calendar in Common Worship for today (17 December) both contain the exclamation: “O Sapientia,” and in the Book of Common Prayer 16 December is listed as a black letter holy day.

I wonder when and why it was deleted from the Calendar in the Book of Common Prayer in the Church of Ireland. It may be a somewhat mysterious calendar entry for some, yet it echoes across the gulf of the Reformations from a tradition going back perhaps to the eighth century or earlier, back to the tradition of the “Great O Antiphons.”

The earliest known metrical form of the “O Antiphons” is a Latin version in an Appendix of Psalteriolum Cantionum Catholicarum, published in Cologne in 1710.

There was a widespread Roman Catholic practice of singing two sequential verses each week in Advent, beginning with the First Sunday of Advent (verses 1 and 2), followed by verses 3 and 4 on the Second Sunday of Advent, and verses 5 and 6 on the Third Sunday of Advent. Then finally, on Sunday next, the Fourth Sunday of Advent, verses 1 and 7 are sung.

However, let us listen to Sinead O’Connor and the Benedictine monks of Glenstal Abbey singing Veni, Veni, Emmanuel. (Biscantorat (2004) Track 3.)

An Anglican hymn

The first English translation of Veni, veni, Emmanuel, was made by John Henry Newman in 1836. Some years later, the Revd John Mason Neale (1818-1866), a Victorian authority on mediaeval liturgy and hymnody, published the five Latin metrical stanzas in his Hymni Ecclesiae in 1851. Neale’s English translation was published that year in his Mediaeval Hymns and Sequences, with the opening line: “Draw Nigh, Draw Nigh, Emmanuel.”

A slightly revised version was also published in 1854 by Neale and the Revd Thomas Helmore (1811-1890), an English priest who helped revive an Anglican interest in plainsong or Gregorian chant, in The Hymnal Noted.

Seven years later, in 1861, it was published in Hymns Ancient and Modern, but with the more familiar opening words: “O Come, O Come Emmanuel” – and with the note: “Altered by the Compilers.”

But the hymn was based on only five of the original antiphons, sung in the following way:

1, O Sapientia (O Wisdom), omitted.
2, O Adonai (O Lord), Verse 5.
3, O Radix Jesse (O Root of Jesse), Verse 2.
4, O Clavis David (O Key of David), Verse 4.
5, O Oriens (O Dayspring), Verse 3.
6, O Rex gentium (O longed-for King), omitted.
7, O Emmanuel (O Emmanuel), Verse 1.

The version in Irish Church Hymnal

John Mason Neale’s hymn could never be a complete reflection of the “Great Os” as his stanzas are based on only five of the original seven antiphons.

The compilers of the 1940 Hymnal of ECUSA, in an effort to rectify this shortcoming, produced two new stanzas based on the missing antiphons. Rejoice and Sing (1991) improved on the two additional American stanzas and added a useful footnote on the history of the “Great Os.” This is the version that was adopted by the Hymnal Revision Committee of the Church of Ireland, and it has been published in the Irish Church Hymnal (2000), along with the footnote from Rejoice and Sing.

At one stage, the Hymnal Revision Committee considered moving the stanza “O come, O come, Emmanuel,” which is the first verse but the final antiphon, and to restore to its rightful place at the end of the hymn. However, the committee members realised that the hymn is so well known with this as its opening that it would be unwise to go ahead with the idea. Instead, they made it an optional stanza at the end of the hymn.

The mystery of the tune

The origins of the well-known tune we used last night are shrouded in mystery and doubt.

According to Henry Jenner (1848-1934), his father Bishop Henry Lascelles Jenner (1820-1898), the controversial first Bishop of Dunedin, found the tune in a manuscript in a library in Lisbon in 1853 and gave a copy to John Mason Neale. In 1881, however, Helmore said his source was a French missal in a library in Lisbon and that he had given a copy to Neale.

Subsequent searches in the library failed to find either the manuscript or the missal. And so, it was asked whether Helmore himself composed the melody, and it was even suggested that he may have constructed it from a number of plainsong phrases.

Dr Mary Berry who died last year … she unearthed the original tune of O come, O come, Emmanuel

Then, in 1966, the tune was found in a manuscript in the Bibliothèque nationale de France in Paris by Dr Mary Berry (1917-2008) of Cambridge, who found it in a 15th century processional used by a French community of Franciscan nuns.

There are other variations when it comes to the rhythm of the music. Many performances pause after “Emmanuel” in both the verse and the chorus, or they extend the final syllable through a similar count. Often however, performances omit these pauses to emphasise the meaning of the chorus: “Rejoice, rejoice, Emmanuel shall come to thee O Israel.”

If a pause is included, the meaning may be confused, as an audible comma is perceived between “Emmanuel” and “shall come to thee...,” changing the grammatical subject of the sentence from Israel to Emmanuel. Rushing the first and final lines to omit the pause produces a greater sense of movement, contrasting with the unhurried pace of the remainder of the song.

Using the Advent Antiphons liturgically

The Promise of His Glory (pp 114-116) suggests an interesting way of using the Advent Antiphons within a Service of Hope and Expectation (pp 112-119), in which all seven antiphons are said or sung, each followed by a short Bible reading and the appropriate verse of the hymn, “O come, O come, Emmanuel.”

I plan to use an adaptation this service in the chapel this evening, in place of Choral Evensong.

Last year in the Church Times (12 December 2008), the Revd Dr Fraser Watts discussed how at Saint Edward’s, Cambridge, they have been using a version of this for some years. The main Sunday Eucharist in Saint Edward’s is at 5 p.m., when it is already dark at this time of the year.

They begin with a candle-lit procession, singing the antiphons at various stations in the church, each followed by a Bible reading. A verse of the hymn is then sung as they move on to the next station. Often they have used just the five antiphons that have corresponding verses in the original version of “O come, O come, Emmanuel” by John Mason Neale.

The procession moves from west to east in the church, singing the antiphons in different places: “O key of David” at the West Door, “O King of the nations” at the font, “O Wisdom” at the lectern, “O morning star” at the Advent candle, and “O Emmanuel” at the sanctuary.

Two years ago in Saint Edward’s, they used all seven Advent Antiphons, including a sonnet linked to each and written by Malcolm Guite, and they divided the antiphons between processions on two successive Sundays in the Advent season.

Conclusions

The O Antiphons have been described as “a unique work of art and a special ornament of the pre-Christmas liturgy, filled with the Spirit of the Word of God.” It is said that they “create a poetry that fills the liturgy with its splendour,” and that their imagery displays “a magnificent command of the Bible’s wealth of motifs.”

Consider how you may use them as we have them in the hymn O come, O come, Emmanuel, in your ministry and in your parishes to add a spiritual depth to these last days before Christmas, in contrast to the banal ways in which Christmas carols are now used commercially in Advent, and even before it.

O come, O come, Emmanuel (Hymn 135):

O come, O come, Emmanuel,
and ransom captive Israel,
that mourns in lonely exile here
until the Son of God appear:

Rejoice! Rejoice!
Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel
.

O come, thou Wisdom from above,
who ord’rest all things through thy love;
to us the path of knowledge show,
and teach us in her ways to go:

O come, O come, thou Lord of might,
who to thy tribes, on Sinai’s height,
in ancient times didst give the law
in cloud and majesty and awe:

O come, thou Rod of Jesse, free
thine own from Satan’s tyranny;
from depths of hell thy people save,
and give them vict’ry o’er the grave:

O come, thou Key of David, come,
and open wide our heavenly home;
make safe the way that leads on high,
and close the path to misery:

O come, thou Dayspring, come and cheer
our spirits by thine advent here;
disperse the gloomy clouds of night,
and death’s dark shadows put to flight:

O come, Desire of Nations, bring
all peoples to their Saviour King;
thou Corner-stone, who makest one,
complete in us thy work begun:

O come, O come, Emmanuel,
and ransom captive Israel,
that mourns in lonely exile here
until the Son of God appear.

Reading:

Edward Darling and Donald Davison, Companion to Church Hymnal (Dublin: Columba, 2005).
Gordon Giles, O Come, Emmanuel (Oxford: Bible Reading Fellowship, 2005).
William Marshall, O come Emmanuel: a devotional study of the Advent Antiphons (Dublin: Columba/APCK, 1993).
The Promise of His Glory (London: Church House Publishing/Mowbray, 1991).
Benjamin Gordon-Taylor and Simon Jones, Celebrating Christ’s Appearing (London: SPCK, 2008).

Canon Patrick Comerford is Director of Spiritual Formation, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute. This essay is based on notes prepared for a lecture on the Year III BTh course, ‘Spirituality for Today,’ on 17 December 2009.

13 December 2009

Gaudete, gaudete! Christus est natus

The Annunciation by Fra Angelico ... note the pink or rose-colured robes on the Angel Gabriel and on the Virgin Mary

Patrick Comerford

Collect

O Lord Jesus Christ, who at your first coming sent your messenger to prepare your way before you: Grant that the ministers and stewards of your mysteries may likewise so prepare and make ready your way by turning the hearts of the disobedient to the wisdom of the just, that at your second coming to judge the world we may be found an acceptable people in your sight; for you are alive and reign with the Father and the Holy Spirit, one God, world without end.

Lectionary Readings

Zephaniah 3: 14-20; Psalm 146: 5-10; Philippians 4: 4-7; Luke 3: 7-18.

The Advent Wreath

For the past two weeks, the Advent wreath has been lighting each day at the offices and at the Liturgy. So far, we have lit two of the five candles – two of the purple or violet candles on the edge. But there is a change this week, for today is Gaudete Sunday, the Third Sunday of Advent, when the pink or rose-coloured candle in the wreath is lit.

In churches with an Advent wreath, the rose-coloured candle is lit alongside the two violet (or blue) candles from the first two Sundays of Advent. Despite the otherwise sombre readings of Advent, the readings on the third Sunday emphasise the joyous anticipation of the Lord’s coming.

The Advent Wreath has five candles: three purple, one pink and one white. They are first lit on each of the Sundays of Advent and on Christmas Day as follows:

Advent 1: purple, for the patriarchs;

Advent 2: purple, for the prophets;

Advent 3: pink, for Saint John the Baptist;

Advent 4: purple, for the Virgin Mary;

Christmas Day: white, for Christ.

Once lit, they are each then lit again for the remaining Sundays, so that on Christmas Day they are all lit. Whether they are in a circular or stepped arrangement, the white candle should be the highest, central or most prominent candle in the arrangement. The three purple candles represent the generally penitential character of the Advent season. But the pink colour of the third candle indicates that the Third Sunday of Advent is a less solemn day.

On this Sunday, which is also known as Gaudete Sunday, rose-coloured vestments are worn instead of the Advent violet. In many parts of the Anglican Communion and in some Lutheran traditions, the colour may be Sarum blue instead. Some traditions say the custom of wearing rose-pink vestments on this Sunday – as on the fourth Sunday of Lent (Laetare Sunday) – comes from an old custom of the Popes distributing roses on these days.

Gaudete Sunday

The season of Advent began as a fast of 40 days in preparation for Christmas. But in the ninth century, the length of Advent was reduced to four weeks. This Sunday takes the name Gaudete Sunday from the Latin word Gaude, “Rejoice,” the first word in the traditional introit for this morning:

Rejoice in the Lord always.
Again I say, rejoice;
let your forbearance be known to all,
for the Lord is near at hand;
have no anxiety about anything,
but in all things, by prayer and supplication,
with thanksgiving,
let your requests be known to God
.

The spirit of the Liturgy all through Advent is one of expectation and preparation for the Christmas feast, as well as for the second coming of Christ. But on Gaudete Sunday, the penitential exercises suitable to the spirit of Advent are suspended, symbolising that joy and gladness in the promised redemption that should never be absent from our hearts.

On the middle or third Sunday of Advent – corresponding to Laetare or Mid-Lent Sunday – the organ and flowers, which had been forbidden during the rest of the season, were permitted once again. Rose-colored vestments were allowed instead of purple, the deacon and sub-deacon reassumed the dalmatic and tunicle, and cardinals wore rose-colour instead of purple.

Gaudete Sunday is also marked by a new Invitatory: the Church no longer invites us to prepare to greet “the Lord who is to come,” but calls us to worship and hail with joy “the Lord who is now nigh and close at hand” – a theme that is reflected in the Collect and Post-Communion Prayer for this day in the Book of Common Prayer of the Church of Ireland, along with recalling Saint John the Baptist, another tradition of Gaudete Sunday.

For some families, this weekend is also traditionally the weekend for putting up the Christmas Tree.

Listening to a 1970s hit

In recent days, I have also been listening to the song Gaudete, usually sung on Gaudete Sunday. The Irish choral group Anúna sang Gaudete on their CDs Omnis (1996) and Celtic Origins (2007). But the version I have been listening to and listening to again this weekend became popular in the early 1970s. I was first introduced to English folk rock while I was in the English Midlands and writing for the Lichfield Mercury.

After Bob Johnson heard Gaudete at a folk carol service at his father-in-law’s church in Cambridge, Steeleye Span recorded Gaudete in 1972 on their album Below the Salt. The record sleeve notes said:

Mist takes the morning path to wreath the willows -
Rejoice, rejoice -
small birds sing as the early rising monk takes to his sandals -
Christ is born of the Virgin Mary -
cloistered, the Benedictine dawn threads timelessly the needle’s eye -
rejoice.


Steeleye Span was formed in 1969, and they often performed as the opening act for Jethro Tull. A year after recording Below the Salt, it came as a surprise to many when they had a Christmas hit single with Gaudete, when it made No 14 in the British charts in 1973.

This a capella motet, sung entirely in Latin, is neither representative of Steeleye Span’s repertoire nor of the album. Yet this was their first big breakthrough and it brought them onto Top of the Pops for the first time.

The reference in verse 3, which puzzled many fans at the time, is to the eastern gate of the city in Ezekiel’s vision (Ezekiel 44: 2). The gate is a traditional symbol of Mary as virgin.

Since the mid-1970s, despite the change in their line-up and the loss of names like Maddy Pryor and Gay and Terry Woods at different times, they often include Gaudete as a concert encore, and it was publised in 1992 in the New Oxford Book of Carols.

The original is at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lN9AJj9rtlk&feature=related But there are some more recent recordings at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OBZ8v9L8444 and at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EDc2FD-vy8M&feature=related

I posted a link to one version on my Facebook page late on Friday night, and was surprised by the reaction. Let us rejoice in good memories, let us rejoice that Christmas is coming, and in the midst of the present gloom let us rejoice that the coming of Christ holds out the promise of hope, the promise of his Kingdom, that even in darkness the light of Christ shines on us all.

Gaudete, gaudete! Christus est natus
Ex Maria virginae, gaudete!

Tempus adest gratiæ
Hoc quod optabamus,
Carmina lætitiæ
Devote reddamus.

Gaudete, gaudete! Christus est natus
Ex Maria virginae, gaudete!

Deus homo factus est
Natura mirante,
Mundus renovatus est
A Christo regnante.

Gaudete, gaudete! Christus est natus
Ex Maria virginae, gaudete!

Ezechielis porta
Clausa pertransitur,
Unde lux est orta
Salus invenitur.

Gaudete, gaudete! Christus est natus
Ex Maria virginae, gaudete!

Ergo nostra contio
Psallat iam in lustro;
Benedicat Domino:
Salus Regi nostro.

Gaudete, gaudete! Christus est natus
Ex Maria virginae, gaudete.

Rejoice, rejoice! Christ is born
of the Virgin Mary, rejoice!

The time of grace has come
that we have desired;
let us devoutly return
joyful verses.

Rejoice, rejoice! Christ is born
of the Virgin Mary, rejoice!

God has become man,
and nature marvels;
the world has been renewed
by Christ who is King.

Rejoice, rejoice! Christ is born
of the Virgin Mary, rejoice!

The closed gate of Ezekiel
has been passed through;
whence the light is born,
salvation is found.

Rejoice, rejoice! Christ is born
of the Virgin Mary, rejoice!

Therefore let our gathering
now sing in brightness,
let it give praise to the Lord:
Greetings to our King.

Rejoice, rejoice! Christ is born
of the Virgin Mary, rejoice!


Post Communion Prayer

Father, we give you thanks for these heavenly gifts. Kindle us with the fire of your Spirit that when Christ comes again we may shine as lights before his face; who is alive and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever.

Canon Patrick Comerford is Director of Spiritual Formation, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute and a canon of Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin.

09 December 2009

Advent Carol Service, 2009

The Nativity ... the icon illustrating the cover of the service sheet for the Advent Carol Service

Patrick Comerford

This evening, we had the annual Advent Carol Service with the staff and students of the Church of Ireland Theological Institute in Saint George’s and Saint Thomas’s Church, Cathal Brugha Street, in inner-city Dublin. This is part of the programme for this evening’s service:

Welcome

Once again we have come to the end of the year. We are all looking forward to the coming of Christ, both at Christmas and in his glory. So the end of the year also holds out the promise and the hope of new beginnings … the new beginning. As TS Eliot wrote in Little Gidding:

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.


This evening’s Advent Carol Service with the staff and students of the Church of Ireland Theological Institute opens with the Matin Responsory.

The Matin Responsory was originally adapted for King’s College Chapel, Cambridge. It has since become the traditional opening for Advent Carol Services sung throughout the Anglican Communion. Its source is the doxology and chanted portions from Palestrina’s four-voice setting of the odd verses of the Magnificat Third Tone. The text is a translation of the First Responsory of Advent Sunday in the Office of Matins.

Please sit for the readings, prayers and hymns sung only by the choir. But please join heartily in the other hymns and in the responses.

After the service, you are invited to remain behind and join us for a reception in the Church (by kind invitation).

– Patrick Comerford

Advent Calendar

He will come like last leaf’s fall.
One night when the November wind
has flayed the trees to the bone, and earth
wakes choking on the mould,
the soft shroud’s folding.

He will come like frost.
One morning when the shrinking earth
opens to mist, to find itself
arrested in the net
of alien, sword-set beauty.

He will come like dark.
One evening when the bursting red
December sun draws up the sheet
and penny-masks its eye to yield
the star-snowed fields of sky.

He will come, will come,
will come like crying in the night,
like blood, like breaking,
as the earth writhes to toss him free.
He will come like a child.

Rowan Williams


The Preparation:

The lights are dimmed and the candles are lit:

Matin Responsory:

I look from afar: And lo, I see the power of God coming, and a cloud covering the whole earth. Go ye out to meet him and say: Tell us, art thou he that should come to reign over thy people Israel? High and low, rich and poor, one with another, go ye out to meet him and say: Hear, O thou shepherd of Israel, thou that leadest Joseph like a sheep. Tell us, art thou he that should come? Stir up thy strength, O Lord, and come to reign over thy people Israel. Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost.

(Words translated from an early mediæval Advent Sunday Responsory.)

The Call to Worship

Blessed be the Lord God of Israel
For he has visited and redeemed his people.

God so loved the world that he sent his only begotten Son
Thanks be to God for his unspeakable gift.

Whoever believes in the Son will not perish but will have eternal life.
Thanks be to God for his unspeakable gift.

Lesson 1: Genesis 3: 8-15

The choir processes to the Advent Prose[Note the solo verses; the congregation is invited to join in singing the refrain:]

Drop down, ye heavens from above, and let the sky pour down righteousness.

Be not wroth very sore, O Lord, neither remember iniquity for ever: thy holy cities are a wilderness, Sion is a wilderness, Jerusalem a desolation: our holy and our beautiful house, where our father praised thee.

Drop down, ye heavens from above, and let the sky pour down righteousness.

We have sinned, and are as an unclean thing, and we all do fade as a leaf: and our iniquities, like the wind, have taken us away; thou hast hid thy face from us: and hast consumed us, because of our iniquities.

Drop down, ye heavens from above, and let the sky pour down righteousness.

Ye are my witnesses, saith the Lord, and my servant whom I have chosen; that ye may know me and believe me: I, even I, am the Lord, and beside me there is no Saviour: and there is none that can deliver out of my hand.

Drop down, ye heavens from above, and let the sky pour down righteousness.

Comfort ye, comfort ye my people, my salvation shall not tarry: I have blotted out as a thick cloud thy transgressions: fear not, for I will save thee: for I am the Lord thy God, the holy One of Israel, thy Redeemer.

Drop down, ye heavens from above, and let the sky pour down righteousness.

Welcome: the Revd Dr Maurice Elliott, Director of the Church of Ireland Theological Institute.

The Bidding Prayer: the Revd Canon Katharine Poulton, Bishop’s Curate, Saint George and Saint Thomas:

In the name of God, who has delivered us from the kingdom of darkness, and transferred us to the Kingdom of his beloved Son, we welcome you: grace to you and peace.

We are gathered together to proclaim and receive in our hearts the good news of the coming of God’s Kingdom, and so prepare ourselves to celebrate with confidence and joy the birth of Our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.

We pray that we may respond in penitence and faith to the glory of his Kingdom, its works of justice and its promise of peace, its blessing and its hope.

And as we seek to renew our allegiance to God’s loving purpose, we pray for all who at this time especially need his pity and protection: the sick in body, mind or spirit; those who suffer from loss of dignity or loss of hope; those who face the future with fear, or walk in the shadow of death.

May God, of his grace and mercy, grant to all his people a new trust in his good providence and a new obedience to his sovereign word, for to him is most justly due all glory, honour, worship and praise, world without end. Amen.

The Advent Collect:

Almighty God,
Give us grace to cast away the works of darkness
and to put on the armour of light now in the time of this mortal life
in which your Son Jesus Christ came to us in great humility;
that on the last day when he shall come again in his glorious majesty to judge the living and the dead,
we may rise to the life immortal;
through him who is alive and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

The Lord’s Prayer:

Lesson 2: Isaiah 9: 2-7

Choral Trio: Say, Where is He Born, from Christus, by Mendelssohn.

Lesson 3: Zechariah 9: 9-10

Choir: I know a Rose tree springing

Lesson 4: Luke 1: 26-38

Hymn: Gabriel’s Message

Lesson 5: Revelation 1: 4-8

Hymn: The Lion of Judah

Advent Reponsorial (Revd Canon Patrick Comerford):

The night is far spent, the day is at hand.
Let us therefore cast off the works of darkness
and put on the armour of light.
Come, O Lord, comfort the soul of your servant.

Even so, Lord, come.

The light of life send upon us;
the joy of peace send upon us;
the gladness of goodwill send upon us.

In judgment and justice draw near,
in your merciful loving kindness draw near,
with the blessing of peace draw near.


O wisdom of God, sweetly ordering all things,
flowing from the glory of the Almighty,
making all things new, kind to all,
making them the friends of God.

Come and comfort the soul of your servant,
for to you do I lift up my soul.


O Lord Jesus Christ, come
at evening time with light,

And in the morning with your glory,
to guide our feet into the way of peace.

He who receives our prayers says:
Surely I come quickly,
I am the root and offspring of David,
I am the bright and morning star.

Amen, Even so come, Lord Jesus.

Hymn: Come, thou long expected Jesus

Hymn: Light of the world

Closing Prayer:

O Lord God,
whose dwelling is the life of your children,
we give you thanks that you revealed yourself in our Lord Jesus,
and that the human community has been sanctified through his coming into the world.
Make us to know the joy of the Gospel,
which is hidden from the wise and prudent
and revealed to babes;
and this we ask through Jesus,
who in wearing our mortal flesh,
grew in wisdom with God and humanity.Amen.

The Blessing (The Archbishop of Dublin, the Most Revd Dr John Neill)

May God the Father, who loved the world so much that he sent his only Son, give you grace to prepare for eternal life. Amen.

May God the Son, who comes to us as Redeemer and Judge, reveal to you that path from darkness to light. Amen.

May God the Holy Spirit, by whose working the Virgin Mary conceived the Christ, help you bear the fruits of holiness. Amen.

And the blessing of God Almighty, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, be upon you and remain with you always. Amen.

Recessional Hymn: On Jordan’s bank the Baptist’s cry

The Dismissal:

Musical Directors: Jack Kinkead, Johnny Campbell-Smyth, Catherine Wallace

Choir: Catherine Wallace, Caroline Mansley, Stephanie Woods; Paul Arbuthnot, Nicola Halford; Jason Kernohan, Johnny Campbell-Smyth, Alistair Morrison; Peter Ferguson, Paul Bogle, Richard Conlon

Readers: Lynne Gibson, Jane Bogle, Alexandra Elliott, John Scarffe, Lynda Levis, Bursar.

02 December 2009

Drowning in a sea of tears

An icon of the Advent or the Second Coming of Christ

Patrick Comerford

Wednesday 2 December 2009

5 p.m.: The Community Eucharist


Jeremiah 33: 14-16; Psalm 25: 1-9; I Thessalonians 3: 9-13; Luke 21: 25-36

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


We had a very comforting service in Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin, last Sunday afternoon, with the Advent Procession. The cathedral was slowly lit up with candles at different points as the Advent readings were read from different points in the cathedral.

It was a reminder of our need to – our call to – take the light of the Gospel into the darkness of the world. But so often this is more of a challenging than a comforting call.

I know some of you were in the cathedral on Sunday afternoon. But how many of you had the more challenging task of preaching on Sunday morning … on the readings we are using this evening, the readings for the First Sunday of Advent?

These are not very comforting words for people who are not regular churchgoers and who are drifting back to Church at the moment for the comforts and cosiness of Christmas, with carols, and the holly, and the Sunday school nativity plays, and the mulled wine, and the cribs, and the advent wrath.

It’s nice to think of the coming of Christ as some precious, cuddly gift from a God the Father who is more akin to a benign Santa Claus in the sky, given as the centrepiece for a shop-front crib.

It’s much more difficult, for many, to think during the Advent season about the coming of Christ in the way his advent is presented in our Gospel reading this evening – to think of it in those dramatic apocalyptic terms of signs in the sun, moon and stars, distress among the nations of the earth, with everyone confused by the roaring of the sea and the waves, and people fainting from fear and foreboding.

If you were listening to this Gospel reading last Sunday in Church in Ballinasloe or Ardrahan, or Cork, and your home had been flooded for a week or more, you would find it very difficult indeed to find any good news in the prospect of your world being confused by the roaring of the waters – not if the ground floor of your new home or your small shop was under three feet of water, and you are not covered by insurance.

As you try to keep your head above water, physically and financially, how can some people expect to find hope in circumstances such as these in this Advent? And how would you bring them hope?

But there are so many other seas and waters that people are drowning in at the moment, without any signs of hope.

I think of all the tears that must have been shed, tears enough to fill many lakes and to flood out many family homes as a response to the horrific child abuse that we have heard about in the Murphy Report in the past week.

There are the tears of the victims, whose stories are so horrific that I am not going to cite any one of them this evening.

These are tears wept not just in the past. The victims continue to drown in their woes and their sorrows to this day. Some have even been driven to despair to the point that even as adults they could not cope with the memories and have died by suicide.

How does someone cope with the loss of childhood and the loss of innocence?

How does a family cope with feelings of trust betrayed? Feelings of inadequacy and failure when it came to protecting those they should have been nurturing, cherishing and protecting.

One of the first baptisms I was involved in after ordination was with a child whose father wanted to know could I drop the questions in the rite that ask: “Do you reject the devil and all proud rebellion against God? Do you renounce the deceit and corruption of evil?”

He thought they were superstitious and old-fashioned questions.

But when children’s lives are destroyed, when you see the heart-break of those children, those former children, their parents, their families, their loved ones, you know there is nothing old-fashioned or superstitious in facing up to reality of the devil, proud rebellion, deceit, corruption and evil.

How do we cope with the loss of faith in thousands upon thousands upon thousands of people who had once been asked to and had readily placed unquestioning trust in their Church?

These were not simple people. These were good people. And their goodness has been trampled on, stolen from them, drowned in the seas of their tears and sorrows.

Church attendance is dropping rapidly. There is a crisis of confidence in authority – all sorts and shapes of authority – in Ireland today. People no longer have faith in our politicians, in our banking and financial system; the collapse in the property market means they also know that there no linger is such a thing as something that is “as safe as houses.”

And the crisis facing the Roman Catholic Church today is a crisis that faces not just one tradition in the Church but that will rock the confidence people once had in all the traditions of the Church.

As one caller to a phone-in show said: “A plague on all their houses!”

This is not an opportunity for the Church of Ireland. This is a time for us to weep in the Church of Ireland. People are going to have their ears closed to the Word of God, their mouths shut to the sacrament, their eyes closed to Christ … and they won’t care who ministers, who proclaims and preaches, who shepherds and pastors.

And how will you cope with the tears and sorrows of your colleagues in the ministry?

I hear many people saying things such as: “I know there are many good priests in the Roman Catholic Church.” But this is not fair. It is not far because it is an under-estimate. In other words, it is damning by feint praise.

The truth is that the overwhelming majority of priests in Roman Catholic Church are good priests. And in their lonely solitude at night they must be drowning in seas of sorrows and in their tears as they realise how day after day, each day, they are bearing the blame that ought to be shouldered by a few, but who have been protected, in the past and sometimes even in the present, by some bishops and even by some in the Vatican.

Who can they turn to bear their grief, to share their sorrow, to listen to their woes, to show their tears?

I hope they can turn to their colleagues in the other traditions in the Church, that they will find listening ears and sympathetic hearts among their colleagues who are deacons, priests and bishops in the Church of Ireland.

In some cases they are not being provided with the leadership they need and they deserve. A bishop should not cling onto office on the basis of some opinion poll, some X-Factor vote, some popularity contest among his clergy and their parishioners.

A bishop must be a focus of unity.

Sometimes bishops make mistakes. We all make mistakes. We all make administrative mistakes. Administrative mistakes should not be a cause of resignation for anyone. After all there is a popular saying, “It could happen to a bishop.”

But mistakes based on poor moral judgment, on low moral standards must be a cause of resignation. If a bishop does not expect high – not necessarily the highest, but certainly very high – moral standards from his priests, then he is not just negligent of his office, but he can no longer be the focus of unity that is at the heart of the primary ministry of a bishop.

I have the highest respect for Archbishop Diarmuid Martin. Not just because he preached here in this chapel; not just because he is the brother of a very good friend; not just because I know he has a wonderful working relationship with my own archbishop. But because he is willing to provide moral leadership, and to provide it even when he has to take tough decisions.

You will have to take tough decisions throughout all of your ministry. I hope they are not of the magnitude that many Church leaders are facing this Advent.

Immediately after your ordination as priests, your ordaining bishops will warn you in these words:

“Remember always with thanksgiving that the treasure now entrusted to you is Christ’s own flock, bought through the shedding of his blood on the cross.”

But beforehand, the bishops will also remind you: “… remember in your heart that if it should come about that the Church, or any of its members, is hurt or hindered by reason of your neglect, your fault will be great and God’s judgment will follow.”

In the old rites, the words are even sterner: “And if it shall happen the same Church, or any member thereof, to take any hurt or hindrance by reason of your negligence, ye know the greatness of the fault, and also the horrible punishment that will ensue.”

Those were the words used at my ordination … and they sent shivers down the spines of some of my friends present who didn’t know what to expect.

You will need to be supported in your commitment to your ordination vows. And when you know the joys and the necessity of that support, remember too, in love and charity, those who cannot find that support, your colleagues and neighbours who will not have that support either because of the past actions and misjudgements of their bishops, or because of enforced celibacy, or because others say things like: “A plague on all your houses!”

Hold before you the hope that the Son of Man is coming this Advent, as our Gospel reading reminds us, in power and glory. When you hear the sort of things we’ve heard and see the sorts of things we’ve seen, stand up, chin out, raise your heads, strengthen your hearts in holiness that you may be blameless before God at his coming.

And help your colleagues to do the same.

And take courage, help them to take courage too, from the words we heard from the Apostle Paul this evening: “… may the Lord make you increase and abound in love for one another and for all” (I Thessalonians 3: 12).

And now, may all our thoughts, words and deeds be to the praise, honour and glory of God, + Father, Son and Holy Spirit, Amen.

Canon Patrick Comerford is Director of Spiritual Formation, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute. This sermon was preached at the Sung Eucharist in the chapel on Wednesday, 2 December 2009.