São Bento station in Porto is one of the world’s most beautiful train stations

The São Bento Railway Station in Porto is one of the most beautiful train stations in the world (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019)

Patrick Comerford

The São Bento Railway Station is not only the main railway station in Porto, but is also regarded by many as one of the most beautiful train stations in the world. Its façade is a well-known landmark in Portugal, and its interior decoration is one of the country’s great works of art.

The station stands in the centre of Porto, on a site between the Praça Almeida Garrett, Rua da Madeira and Rua do Loureiro, as well as the escarpment of Batalha, where a tunnel was carved into the hill.

The station is named after Saint Benedict because it stands on the site of the Benedictine Convent of São Bento da Avé Maria, built by King Manuel I of Portugal in 1518. The monastery was burnt in a fire in 1783 and later rebuilt, but it was in a state of great disrepair by the end of the 19th century.

A railway station was planned for central Porto as early as 1864, but the plans were not presented until 1887. The station was designed by the Porto architect José Marques da Silva (1869-1947), whose design was strongly influenced by French Beaux-Arts architecture.

Work on the tunnel lasted from 1890 to 1893, and the first train arrived at São Bento in 1896, but a landslide in 1897 blocked the opening of a tunnel on the south edge of the station site. The tunnel was completed in 1898, the new station was built in 1900-1916, and the station was opened officially in 1916.

The symmetrical, three-storey, granite building has a U-shaped plan, with its main façade facing south-west.

The tiles on the north wall depict the Battle of Arcos de Valdevez (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019)

The station’s forecourt is covered with 20,000 painted tiles in the Portuguese tradition of blue and white azulejo tiles. They date from 1905-1916 and were designed by the Portuguese painter Jorge Colaço (1868-1942).

Colaço was born in Tangier, the son of a Portuguese diplomat, and studied art in Lisbon, Madrid and Paris. Although he was a canvas painter and caricaturist, he specialised in designing and painting azulejo panels to decorate large surfaces. His designs had a late Romantic taste, celebrating the achievements of Portuguese history.

Along with historical themes, he also produced ethnographic and landscape scenes. His other important works include tile panels in the Palace Hotel, Bussaco (1907), the Sports Pavilion at Eduardo VII Park, Lisbon (1922), and the façade of the Church of Saint Ildefonso, Porto (1932).

His 20,000 blue and white azulejo tiles in the forecourt of São Bento present major events in the history of Portugal and they are integrated into the design of the building with frames in granite that decorate the lines of the atrium.

The scene to the left of the entrance, on the north wall, depicts the Battle of Arcos de Valdevez (1140), with two opposing groups and other knights in the background.

Below, another composition depicts the meeting at Toledo in the 12th century between Egas Moniz and Alfonso VII of León, offering his life and the lives of his wife and his sons after Egas Moniz felt humiliated when he failed to negotiate a Portuguese surrender. Alfonso finally recognised Portugal’s independence at the Treaty of Zamora in 1143.

The tiles on the south wall depict the arrival of King João I and Princess Philippa of Lancaster for their wedding in Porto (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019)

To the right on the south wall, the tiles depict the arrival of King João I in Porto with his fiancé, Princess Philippa of Lancaster, to celebrate their wedding in the Sé or Cathedral in Porto in 1387.

Below is a depiction of the Conquest of Ceuta in 1415, when the Infante Dom Henrique defeated the Moors.

The upper part of the frieze is lined with azulejos depicting a chronology of different types of transport in Portugal, including the transportation of Port Wine in a Barco Rabelo on the River Douro.

The lower and upper frame of the frieze consists of a line of tiles in blue, browns and yellow in stylised geometric patterns.

The wall into the station is divided into multiple compositions. To the left, a vision of the procession of Nossa Senhora dos Remédios in Lamego, an exhaustive description and detail showing crowds in an urban setting. Under this composition are two panels that represent her promise and a miraculous fountain.

The lower panels show a picture of a cattle fair and pilgrim camp. The central panels of the wall represent four work scenes: the vineyards, the harvest, the wine shipment down the Douro and work in the watermill. There are similar presentations on the pilasters.

Above these are medallions depicting romantic scenes and, below, allegories associated with the railway referencing time and signalling, in an expression of contemporary Art Deco.

São Bento is the main terminus of Porto’s suburban lines and the western terminus for the scenic Douro line between Porto and Pocinho. The station was listed as a heritage site in 1988.

São Bento station was listed as a heritage site in 1988 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019)

Plaster statue Mary, or Magnificat Mary?

The Visitation, by James B. Janknegt

Patrick Comerford

Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin.

Sunday 23 December 2012, the Fourth Sunday of Advent

11 a.m., Sung Cathedral Eucharist

Micah 5: 2-5a, Psalm 80: 1-8; Hebrews 10: 5-10; Luke 1: 39-55.

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

This has been a very short Advent. Once again, I got caught, thinking there are four weeks in Advent, but this year it’s not so. Yes, there are four Sundays in Advent, but there’s just over three weeks. Now that Christmas Day is just around the corner, I’ve been caught again – I have been late in sending a number of Christmas cards, and now I realise they’re probably not going to arrive in the post until well into the New Year.

I kept on ignoring all the advertising from An Post telling me that Christmas begins when I’ve sent the first card. But it sounds so ridiculous ... as though Easter begins when I buy my first Crème Egg.

We have so hyped up the weeks before Christmas that we’ve forgotten to take account of Advent, a time of waiting, a time of preparation, a time of anticipation.

Over these past four Sundays, that time of waiting, preparation and anticipation, we have been preparing ourselves in this cathedral, with the liturgy and the music, with carol services and quiet days, with the Christmas Market and Santa’s grotto in the crypt, with the Advent Wreath and the Crib.

The four candles in a ring around the white candle on the Advent wreath – three purple and one pink candle – have reminded us, week-after-week, of those who prepared us in the past for the Coming of the Christ Child: first the Patriarchs, including Abraham, Isaac and Jacob; then the prophets of the Old Testament; last Sunday, it was John the Baptist; and this morning, the fourth and final candle reminds us of the Virgin Mary.

I find it difficult to accept the Virgin Mary of the plaster cast statues, in her demure blue and white, a strawberry blonde but sanctimonious and pious, with her eyes cast up to heaven.

Last Tuesday, we had a reception here in the crypt for board members, workers and volunteers from the Mendicity Institute. As I brought some of them around the cathedral on tour, it was surprising how many of them raised that old chestnut I so often find being raised by Roman Catholic neighbours, friends and family members.

They are surprised that we have a Lady Chapel. They are surprised that there are icons there telling the stories of key events in the life of the Virgin Mary. They are surprised that there is a statue of Mary at the arch into the Lady Chapel.

I’m sure many of us are familiar with these surprises.

And then I like to say things such as, “Well you know, we pray or sing the canticle Magnificat here in this cathedral every day, at Choral Evensong or at Evening Prayer.” There is surprise that Magnificat is one of the traditional evening canticles for Anglicans.

To paraphrase the surprise, the startled surprise, it’s expressed in words like: “I didn’t think you believe in Mary.”

But the Mary I believe in is not the Mary of those ugly statues that became popular in post-Famine Ireland, almost like some fertility symbol.

The Mary I see as a role model for belief and discipleship is the Mary who sets off in a hurry and a flurry to visit her cousin Elizabeth, the Mary with a gob on her who speaks out of turn when she comes out with those wonderful words we hear in our Gospel reading this morning, the Mary who sings the Canticle Magnificat this morning.

What a contrasting pair these two cousins, Mary and Elizabeth, are!

How much they speak to so many of the dilemmas we have in Irish society today!

Elizabeth is the older woman. She has been married for years. Because of social and family pressures, she had started to become embarrassed that after all those years of marriage she has not become pregnant.

In those days, even in many places to this day, this was an embarrassing social stigma. She had no son to inherit her husband’s lands, his family position, the place of Zechariah as a priest in the Temple in Jerusalem.

She reminds us too of Sarah, who is so embarrassed at the thought of becoming pregnant in her old age that she laughs in the face of the three visitors, she laughs in the face of the living Triune God.

Today, a woman who became pregnant at her stage of life might not laugh. She might quake with fear. She might ask for amniocentesis or an amniotic fluid test.

And yet Elizabeth takes control of her situation. She turns a predicament into an opportunity, a crisis of a pregnancy so late in life into a blessing for us all.

She is so filled with joy when her cousin Mary arrives that as soon as she hears the knock on the door, as soon as she hears the sound of Mary on her doorstep, her joy is infectious, so infectious that even the child in her womb – the child who would grow up to be John the Baptist – leaps with joy in her womb.

Elizabeth’s action is radical. Life is tough enough for her. Her husband has been struck dumb. A dumb priest was unlikely to be able to continue to earn a liturgical living in the Temple in Jerusalem. How was she now going to provide for her child when he was born?

But Elizabeth’s action is even more radical than that.

How many women of her age, and her respectable background, would have been so quick to rush out and welcome her much younger, single and pregnant cousin?

How many women would have been worried: “What if she stays here and has the child here? Would we ever live with the shame?”

How many women might have suggested instead that Mary goes off and finds a home where they can find someone else to take care of her child when he is born?

Instead, Elizabeth welcomes Mary with open arms. Elizabeth’s joyful greeting, “Blessed are you among women ...,” echoes the greeting of the Archangel Gabriel (see Luke 1: 28), “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb.”

It’s almost as if she is saying: “It doesn’t matter what others think of you. It doesn’t matter how other people are going to judge you. I love you.”

Which is precisely what God is saying in the Incarnation, in the precious gift of the Christmas: “It doesn’t matter what others think of you. It doesn’t matter how other people are going to judge you. I love you.”

Mary for her part is such a wonderful, feisty person.

Her she is, what might be described in the red-top tabloid newspapers today as “a gymslip Mum.”

But instead of hiding herself away from her family, from her cousins, from the woman in her family who is married to a priest, she rushes off to her immediately, to share her good news with her.

And she challenges so many of our prejudices and our values and our presumptions today. Not just about gymslip mums and unexpected or unplanned pregnancies, but about what the silent and the marginalised have to say about our values in society today.

And Mary declares:

51 He has shown strength with his arm;
he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.
52 He has brought down the powerful from their thrones,
and lifted up the lowly;
53 he has filled the hungry with good things,
and sent the rich away empty.
54 He has helped his servant Israel,
in remembrance of his mercy,
55 according to the promise he made to our ancestors,
to Abraham and to his descendants for ever.’

It is almost like this is the programme or the agenda we can expect when the Christ Child is born.

The Visitation, by James B. Janknegt

What are you expecting when the Christ Child is born this Christmas, when Christ comes among us?

A plaster-cast Mary and a plastic baby-doll Jesus?

What did Mary and Elizabeth expect?

Would they have been so filled with joy if they knew what was going to happen to their sons?

Would Elizabeth have been so filled with joy if she knew that her son was going to end up not just with the lifestyle of John the Baptist, but tend up with having his head chopped off for challenging the kings and rulers and courtiers of the day?

Would Mary have been so filled with joy if she knew that her son was going to end up on the Cross, that the child she now held so tenderly in her womb she would one day cradle as a corpse at the foot of the Cross?

At the execution of their sons, they must have wondered, Mary and Elizabeth: Is that what all this joy and pain were for?

But we know the answer to that question, if they ever asked it, is “No!”

For in the Incarnation, in the joy of Christmas, God comes among us, and God says, in words that I might use to paraphrase our reading from the Prophet Micah this morning and the promise in our Psalm, again and again every Christmas: “It doesn’t matter what others think of you. It doesn’t matter how other people are going to judge you. I love you.”

And so, may all we think, say and do be to the praise, honour and glory of God, + Father, Son and Holy Spirit, Amen.

Collect:

God our redeemer,
who prepared the blessed Virgin Mary
to be the mother of your Son:
Grant that, as she looked for his coming as our saviour,
so we may be ready to greet him
when he comes again as our judge;
who is alive and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.

Post Communion Prayer

Heavenly Father,
you have given us a pledge of eternal redemption.
Grant that we may always eagerly celebrate
the saving mystery of the incarnation of your Son.
We ask this through him whose coming is certain,
whose day draws near,
your Son Jesus Christ our Lord.

Canon Patrick Comerford is Lecturer in Anglicanism and Liturgy, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute, and a canon of Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin. This sermon was preached at the Cathedral Eucharist on Sunday 23 December 2012.

With the Saints through Advent (24): 23 December, Frederick Temple

Frederick Temple (1821-1902), Archbishop of Canterbury (1896-1902) … died 110 years ago on this day (Portrait in Exeter Palace)

Patrick Comerford

This is the Fourth and last Sunday of Advent. As we come to the end of Advent today [23 December], there are no major saints in the principal calendars of the Church, and Frederick Temple, with his liberal views on theology and Biblical criticism would hardly have been regarded as a saint by many of his Victorian contemporaries in the Victorian Church of England.

Yet, Archbishop Temple’s own life span in some way symbolizes our journey through Advent: he was born on Saint Andrew’s Day (30 November 1821), and he died the day before Christmas Eve 110 years ago (23 December 1902).

He took costly and risky efforts to reconcile science and religion in his day, faced down harsh criticism from his fellow bishops and clergy, was outspoken in his efforts to promote women’s education, and sided with the working class in their demands for industrial justice.

Although he was initially attracted to Tractarianism as an undergraduate at Oxford, he was unloved by High Church Anglicans for many of his decisions as a bishop and archbishop, yet he continuously sought to maintain Anglican unity and diversity.

During his long and active ecclesiastical career, Frederick Temple (1821-1902) held some of the most important posts in the Church of England during critical periods for the Victorian Church. Temple was an undergraduate and fellow of Balliol College during the Oxford Movement, a close friend of Matthew Arnold, Benjamin Jowett, and Archbishop Archibald Tait, a noted educational reformer and headmaster of Rugby, a contributor of the lead article to the controversial Essays and Reviews, Bishop of Exeter, Bishop of London and finally Archbishop of Canterbury from 1897 to 1902.

He was involved in many crucial events in education, theology, and Church politics in the second half of the 19th century. One of his last acts as Archbishop of Canterbury was to crown Edward VII.

Temple was born on 30 November 1821 in Lefkada in the Greek Ionian Islands, where his father, Major Octavius Temple (1784-1834), was a colonial administrator. Major Temple was transferred to Corfu in 1828, and later became lieutenant-governor of Sierra Leone. When he retired moved to Devon. The archbishop’s grandfather, the Revd William Johnson Temple (1739-1796), was known for his radical views and was a friend of both Samuel Johnson (see 13 December) and James Boswell.

He was baptised in Lefkada by the Revd George Winort, a British military chaplain, on 8 December 1822. As a child in Lefkada, the young Frederick Temple became fluent in modern Greek and Italian. When the family returned to England, he was sent to Blundell’s School, Tiverton, where he earned a Blundell scholarship to Balliol College. Oxford. When he arrived at Oxford, the Oxford Movement was already under way, although Tract XC had yet to be written.

When he graduated in 1842, he was elected fellow of Balliol, and was appointed lecturer in mathematics and logic. He was ordained priest in 1847 four years later, and was appointed the head of Kneller Hall, a college for training masters of workhouses and penal schools.

The college was not a success, and in 1855 he became a school inspector. He could be considered the real designer of the Oxford and Cambridge Examination Board in the 1850s. In 1856 he was appointed a chaplain to Queen Victoria, in 1857 he was the select preacher at Oxford University, and in 1858 he took the degrees BD and DD at Oxford.

From 1857 to 1869, Temple was the Dean of the Chapel Royal and Headmaster of Rugby. At Rugby, he strengthened the school’s reputation in classics, set up scholarships in natural science, built a laboratory and reformed the sporting activities. His school sermons emphasised loyalty, faith and duty.

Temple had a lifelong interest in science and religion. In 1860 at the famous meeting of the British Association when Thomas Huxley and Bishop Samuel Wilberforce engaged in a famous debate, Temple preached a sermon welcoming the insights of evolution.

The publication of the volume Essays and Reviews in 1860, a year after the publication of Charles Darwin’s Origin of the Species, stirred controversy. In the book’s opening essay, “The Education of the World,” Temple discussed the intellectual and spiritual growth of humanity, and pointed out the contributions made by the Hebrews, Egyptians, Greeks, Romans and others.

Many people called for the collection of liberal essays to be banned, and Bishop Samuel Wilberforce of Oxford led demands that the headmaster of Rugby should also dissociate himself from his colleagues. However, Temple refused to repudiate his associates, and it was ten years before he decided to withdraw his essay. In the meantime, he published a volume of his Rugby sermons to put forward his own religious views.

Politically, Temple was associated with Gladstone, and supported educational reforms and the disestablishment of the Church of Ireland. In 1869, Gladstone offered him an appointment as Dean of Durham Cathedral, but Temple wanted to stay at Rugby and declined. Later that year, however, the Bishop of Exeter, Henry Phillpotts, died, and once again Gladstone turned again to Temple, who accepted the nomination.

Temple’s appointment to Exeter caused a fresh controversy. Archdeacon George Denison of Taunton, Lord Shaftesbury, and others led the protests. Edward Pusey said “the choice was the most frightful enormity ever perpetrated by a Prime Minister.”

When it came to the confirmation of Temple’s election, the chapter of Exeter Cathedral was divided in its vote. But Gladstone stood firm, and Temple was consecrated on 21 December 1869. In his 16 years as Bishop of Exeter, Temple overcame the prejudices of his opponents.

He was Bampton Lecturer at Oxford University in 1884, taking for his subject “The Relations between Religion and Science.” In his eight Brampton Lectures, he states clearly that “doctrine of Evolution is in no sense whatever antagonistic to the teachings of religion.” His Bampton lectures made the theory of evolution respectable and also addressed the origin and nature of scientific, and of religious belief and the apparent conflicts between science and religion on free will and supernatural power.

In 1885, he was elected an honorary fellow of Exeter College, Oxford, and he was appointed Bishop of London that year.

As Bishop of London, Temple often worked 14 or 15 hours a day, even in the face of the rapid onset of blindness. He was demanding when it came to standards of diligence and preaching among his clergy and he was a tireless temperance worker. He became known as a friend of the working class, and he attempted to mediate in the London dock strike of 1889.

As his sight continued to deteriorate, he offered to resign as Bishop of London, but when Archbishop Edward Benson died suddenly in 1896, Temple was appointed Archbishop of Canterbury at the age of 76.

Temple presided at the 1897 Lambeth Conference. In the same year, Temple and Archbishop William Maclagan issued a joint response to the papal encyclical Apostolicae Curae, in which the Pope denied the validity of Anglican orders.

In 1899, Temple and Maclagan acted together again, when they responded to an appeal from the bishops of the Church of England and ruled against the use of incense in the liturgy and against carrying candles in liturgical processions. After hearing the arguments the two archbishops decided against both practices.

As Archbishop of Canterbury, Temple was deeply distressed by the divisions within Anglicanism, and in his sermons he called repeatedly for unity.

He was a keen supporter of missionary causes, and in a sermon to mark the opening of the 20th century he said Britain had a supreme obligation to seek to evangelise all nations. He presided over the World Temperance Congress in London in 1900, and also preached on the need for women’s education.

He crowned Edward VII as king in 1902, but by then the strain at advanced age was telling on his health. While he was speaking in the House of Lords on 2 December 1902 on education, he was taken ill. He was revived sufficiently to finish his speech, but he never fully recovered. He died on 23 December 1902, and was buried in Canterbury Cathedral.

He was succeeded as Archbishop of Canterbury by Randall Davidson. Over 100 volumes of Temple’s official papers are kept at Lambeth Palace.

Frederick Temple married Beatrice Blanche Lascelles, daughter of William Sebright Lascelles MP, on 24 August 1876 and they had two sons. His second son, William Temple, was later Archbishop of Canterbury from 1942 to 1944.

Archbishop Frederick Temple’s monument in Canterbury Cathedral

Prayers of Frederick Temple:

O Lord Jesus Christ,
take us to thyself,
draw us with cords to the foot of thy cross;
for we have no strength to come,
and we know not the way.
Thou art mighty to save, and none can separate us from thy love.
Bring us home to thyself, for we are gone astray.
We have wandered: do thou seek us.
Under the shadow of thy cross let us live all the rest of our lives,
and there we shall be safe. Amen.

Let us take all our wishes, all our longings….to the feet of our Father.

God does not require you to be sinless when you come before him, but he does require you to be unceasing in your perseverance. He does not require that you shall never have fallen; but he does require unwearied efforts. He does not require you to win, but he does require you to fight.

Frederick Temple in his own words:

Am I really what I ought to be? Am I what, in the bottom of my heart, I honestly wish to be? Am I living a life at all like what I myself approve? My secret nature, the true complexion of my character, is hidden from all men, and only I know it. Is it such as I should be willing to show? Is my soul at all like what my kindest and most intimate friends believe? Is my heart at all such as I should wish the Searcher of Hearts to judge me by? Is every year adding to my devotion, to my unselfishness, to my conscientiousness, to my freedom from the hypocrisy of seeming so much better than I am? When I compare myself with last year, am I more ready to surrender myself at the call of duty? Am I more alive to the commands of conscience? Have I shaken off my besetting sins?” These are the questions which this season of Lent ought to find us putting fairly and honestly to our hearts. – Frederick Temple, Biography

We often make our duties harder by thinking them hard. We dwell on the things we do not like till they grow before our eyes, and, at last, perhaps shut out heaven itself. But this is not following our Master, and he, we may be sure, will value little the obedience of a discontented heart. The moment we see that anything to be done is a plain duty, we must resolutely trample out every rising impulse of discontent. We must not merely prevent our discontent from interfering with the duty itself; we must not merely prevent it from breaking out into murmuring; we must get rid of the discontent itself. Cheerfulness in the service of Christ is one of the first requisites to make that service Christian. – Frederick Temple, Biography

In return for the love which brought the Son of Man down from heaven, in return for the love which led him to die for us on the cross, we cannot give him holy lives, for we are not holy; we cannot give him pure souls, for our souls are not pure; but this one thing we can give, and this is what he asks, hearts that shall never cease from this day forward, till we reach the grave, to strive to be more like him; to come nearer to him; to root out from within us the sin that keeps us from him. To such a battle I call you in his name. And even if at the last day you shall not be able to show any other service, yet be sure that when thousands of his saints go forth to meet him, and to show his triumph, he will turn to embrace with arms of tenderness the poor penitent who has nothing to offer but a life spent in one never-ceasing struggle with oneself, an unwearied battle with the faults that had taken possession of his soul. – Frederick Temple, Biography

Further reading:

Peter Hinchliff, Frederick Temple, Archbishop of Canterbury: A Life (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1998).

Canon Patrick Comerford is Lecturer in Anglicanism and Liturgy, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute, and a canon of Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin.

With the Saints through Advent (23): 22 December, Henry Budd

The Revd Henry Budd ... the first person of First Nations ancestry to be ordained in the Anglican tradition in North America

Patrick Comerford

There are no saints’ days in the calendar of Common Worship of the Church of England or The Book of Common Prayer (2004) of the Church of Ireland for these last days before Christmas. Perhaps the compilers thought these days are best left uncluttered as we prepare for Christmas.

However, the Calendar of the Episcopal Church (TEC) commemorates two interesting missionaries today [22 December], the Revd Henry Budd (1812-1875), a Cree Anglican missionary in Canada, and Charlotte Digges (Lottie) Moon (1840), a pioneering Baptist woman missionary in China.

The choice of 22 December for these two commemorations is more puzzling because Henry Budd died on 2 April 1875, and is remembered on that day in the Anglican Church of Canada, while Lottie Moon died on on Christmas Eve 1912.

The Revd Henry Budd was the first person of First Nations ancestry to be ordained in the Anglican tradition in North America. He is remembered for his service among the Cree in Western Canada.

Henry Budd was an orphan and the date of his birth is unknown, although he was probably born around 1812. He was born to a father from the Swampy Cree and a Metis mother, and was named Sa-ka-chu-wes’cum, which in the Cree language means “Going up the hill.”

After his father’s death, he was put in the care of an English missionary, the Revd John West, chaplain of the Hudson’s Bay Company in Rupert’s Land, the vast expanse of land that encircled Hudson Bay before it was divided into Canadian provinces.

John West had arrived in the Red River Settlement in 1820 as the first Anglican priest in the territory. At an early stage, he took an active interest in the selection and training of Métis and First Nations boys and young men at the posts of the Hudson’s Bay Company, bringing George Harbridge, a schoolmaster, with him to Rupert’s Land.

Together, West and Harbridge took charge of the young orphan boy’s education. West baptised him on 21 July 1822 and gave him the English name Henry Budd. West’s register includes this entry: “Henry Budd an Indian boy about ten years of age taught in the Missionary School and now capable of reading the New Testament and repeating the Church of England Catechism correctly.”

Henry entered West’s mission school and West brought him up to act like an Englishman. After leaving school in 1827, he worked as a clerk for the Hudson’s Bay Company.

In 1836, he married Betsy Work, the daughter of a company worker. When his contract with the company came to an end, Henry and Betsy returned to the Red River region of Manitoba, and bought farmland near Saint Andrews. In 1837 he was appointed to teach at Saint John’s Anglican parish school. They remained in the area for the next 13 years while he taught in the school and served as a catechist.

Henry was an able teacher, and in 1840 two missionary priests, the Revd John Smithurst and the Revd William Cockran, asked him to go to the Cumberland House District to begin a new school and mission for the Cree.

After a short time there, Henry began his evangelistic work in The Pas, a settlement half-way between two trading posts on the lower Saskatchewan, where he found a number of the Cree people already living and ready to receive him and his teaching.

After two years of hard work, there were many candidates for baptism, and in the summer of 1842, Smithurst arrived in The Pas and baptised 88 people, including 39 adults, 27 infants, and 22 schoolchildren.

Henry Budd continued in sole charge of the work at The Pas until the arrival in 1844 of the Revd James Hunter. He interpreted for Hunter, taught him the Cree language, continued his work of teaching and itinerating, and superintended or took part in the various activities required to build up a missionary station in the wilderness.

He was so effective in teaching Christianity and managing his isolated mission that CMS recommended his ordination to the priesthood. He was trained for ordained ministry largely by personal mentoring and tutoring from other clergy, and was ordained deacon in Old Saint Andrew’s Church on 22 December 1850 by Bishop David Anderson, the first bishop of Rupert’s Land, when he visited The Pas, and was ordained priest soon after.

The ordination of Henry Budd was the first of a person of First Nations ancestry in the Anglican tradition in North America. There is no record of any such ordination in any of the older Dioceses of Eastern Canada prior to 1851, or in the Episcopal Church in the US. The ordination of Enamaghbouk (John Johnson), an Ottawa by birth but adopted by the Chippewas, by Bishop Jackson Kemper did not happen until 3 July 1859.

When James Hunter left The Pas, Henry took charge of the mission, and he remained there until 1857, when he was asked to begin a new mission at Fort a la Corne among the First Nations people of the Plains.

Henry Budd ministered at the Nepowewin Mission until 1867, when he was recalled to The Pas. There he served as priest and teacher until his death on 2 April 1875.

Even though he supported his own wife and children, his mother, and his brother’s family, CMS listed him as “a native missionary” and shamefully paid him only half the stipend that CMS paid a European missionary.

Henry possessed a striking presence and was a superb speaker both in English and in his native Cree. He is remembered as an eloquent speaker and writer in both Cree and English. He endeared himself to the people he served by exhibiting clearly in the living of his life the Christian principles he preached and the values he taught.

His lasting contributions include his translations of the Scriptures and the Book of Common Prayer into the Cree language.

Henry Budd died on 2 April 1875, just a few days after he had conducted Easter services. He is buried in The Pas, Manitoba.
.
He is commemorated in the calendar of the Anglican Church of Canada on 2 April, but in the Calendar of the Episcopal Church (TEC) on 22 December, the anniversary of his ordination. In a remote and unintentional way, I suppose the two commemorations make the connection between Christmas faith and Easter faith, which I was discussing yesterday in the story of Saint Thomas the Apostle.

Readings:

Sirach (Ecclesiasticus) 11: 1-6, 14, 17; Psalm 29; I Thessalonians 5: 13-18; John 14: 15-2.

Collect:

Creator of light, we thank you for your priest Henry Budd, who carried the great treasure of Scripture to his people the Cree nation, earning their trust and love. Grant that his example may call us to reverence, orderliness and love, that we may give you glory in word and action; through Jesus Christ our Saviour, who with you and the Holy Spirit lives and reigns, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

Tomorrow (23 December): Archbishop Frederick Temple.

Canon Patrick Comerford is Lecturer in Anglicanism and Liturgy, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute, and a canon of Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin.

With the Saints through Advent (22): 21 December, Saint Thomas the Apostle

Carravagio: The Incredulity of Saint Thomas

Patrick Comerford

This day in Advent [21 December] was once marked in the calendars of the Western Church, including the Book of Common Prayer, as the feast day of Saint Thomas the Apostle and was once a major feast day in the Church. This commemoration was moved long ago to 3 July, the date given in the Martyrology of Saint Jerome and 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 to be in Ortona in Italy.

In the Orthodox Churches, Saint Thomas is remembered each year on Saint Thomas Sunday, or the Sunday after Easter, and on 6 October. He is now celebrated on 3 July in the Book of Common Prayer (2004) in the Church of Ireland and Common Worship in the Church of England, although he is still commemorated on 21 December in the Episcopal Church (TEC).

I think of Saint Thomas as an appropriate apostle to recall in Advent, for he reminds us that all our Christmas celebrations are meaningless without faith in the Resurrection.

In the Gospels, Saint 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 Saint 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?

We can never be quite sure about Saint Thomas in Saint John’s Gospel. After the death of Lazarus, the disciples resist Christ’s decision to return to Judea, where there had been an attempt to stone Jesus. But Thomas shows he has no idea of the real meaning of death and resurrection when he suggests that the disciples should go to Bethany with Jesus: “Let us also go, that we may die with him” (John 11: 16).

And while Thomas saw the raising of Lazarus, what did he believe in?

Could seeing ever be enough for a doubting Thomas to believe?

The Apostle 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. He has been with Christ now for three years, and still he does not believe or understand. Seeing and explanations are not enough for him. Christ replies to this and to Philip’s requests with a detailed exposition of his relationship to God the Father.

In the Resurrection story in Saint John’s Gospel, Mary does not recognise the Risen Christ at first. For her, appearances could be deceiving, and she thinks he is the gardener. But when he speaks to her, she recognises his voice, and then wants to hold on to him. From that moment of seeing and believing, she rushes off to tell the Disciples: “I have seen the Lord.”

Two of the disciples, John the Beloved and Simon Peter, have already seen the empty tomb, but they fail to make the vital connection between seeing and believing. When they hear Mary’s testimony, they still fail to believe fully. They only believe when they see the Risen Lord standing among them, when he greets them, “Peace be with you,” and when he shows them his pierced hands and side.

They had to see and to hear, they had to have the Master stand over them in their presence, before they could believe.

On the first Easter Day, the Disciples locked themselves away out of fear. But where is Thomas? Is he fearless? Or is he foolish?

For a full week, Thomas is absent and does not join in the Easter experience of the remaining disciples. He has not seen and so he refuses to believe. When they tell him what has happened, Thomas refuses to accept their stories of the Resurrection. For him hearing, even seeing, are not enough.

Thomas wants to see, hear and touch. He wants to use all his learning faculties before he can believe this story. He has heard, but he wants to see. When he sees, he wants to touch … he demands not only to touch the Risen Christ, but to touch his wounds too before being convinced.

And so for a second time within eight days, Christ comes and stands among his disciples, and says: “Peace be with you.”

Mary was asked in the garden on Easter morning not to cling on to Christ. But Thomas is invited to touch him in the most intimate way. He is told to place his finger in Christ’s wounded hands and his hand in Christ’s pierced side.

Caravaggio has depicted this scene in his painting, The Incredulity of Saint Thomas. Yet we are never told whether Thomas actually touched those wounds with his fingers. All we are told is that once he has seen the Risen Christ, Thomas simply professes his faith in Jesus: “My Lord and my God!”

In that moment, we hear the first expression of faith in the two natures of Christ, that he is both divine and human. For all his doubts, Saint Thomas provides us with an exquisite summary of the apostolic faith.

Too often, perhaps, we talk about “Doubting Thomas.” Instead, we might better call him “Believing Thomas.” His doubting leads him to question. But his questioning leads to listening. And when he hears, he sees, perhaps he even touches. Whatever he does, he learns in his own way, and he comes not only to faith but to faith that for this first time is expressed in that eloquent yet succinct acknowledgment of Christ as both “My Lord and My God.”

In our society today, are we easily deceived by appearances?

Do we confuse what pleases me with beauty and with truth?

Do we allow those who have power to define the boundaries of trust and integrity merely to serve their own interests?

Too often, in this world, we are deceived easily by the words of others and deceived by what they want us to see. Seeing is not always believing today. Hearing does not always mean we have heard the truth, as we know in Irish life and politics today. It is easy to deceive and to be deceived by a good presentation and by clever words.

Too often, we accept or judge people by their appearances, and we are easily deceived by the words of others because of their office or their privilege. But there are times when our faith, however simple or sophisticated, must lead us to ask appropriate questions, not to take everything for granted, and not to confuse what looks like being in our own interests with real beauty and truth.

Saint Thomas is a reminder that Christmas points to Easter. His story 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.

Saint Thomas’s Church, Dugort, Achill Island (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Collect:

Almighty and eternal God,
who, for the firmer foundation of our faith,
allowed your holy apostle Thomas
to doubt the resurrection of your Son
till word and sight convinced him:
Grant to us, who have not seen, that we also may believe
and so confess Christ as our Lord and our God;
who is alive and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.

Readings:

Habakkuk 2: 1-4; Psalm 31: 1-6; Ephesians 2: 19-22; John 20: 24-29.

Post Communion Prayer:

God of hope,
in this Eucharist we have tasted
the promise of your heavenly banquet
and the richness of eternal life.
May we who bear witness to the death of your Son,
also proclaim the glory of his resurrection,
for he is Lord for ever and ever.

Tomorrow (22 December): Henry Budd.

Canon Patrick Comerford is Lecturer in Anglicanism and Liturgy, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute, and a canon of Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin.

With the Saints through Advent (21): 20 December, Saint Ignatius of Antioch

For Saint Ignatius of Antioch, the Incarnation is not just one doctrine among others … the Incarnation is the Christian faith

Patrick Comerford

In the midst of all the reports on the present conflicts in Syria, it almost passed unnoticed that the Greek Orthodox Patriarch of Antioch, Patriarch Ignatius IV, died earlier this month [5 December 2012] in Saint George’s Hospital in Beirut, Lebanon following a stroke.

The Patriarch of Antioch is the third most senior figure in the Orthodox Church, following the Patriarchs of Constantinople and Alexandria.

His successor, Patriarch John X (Yazigi) of Antioch and All The East, who was elected last Monday [17 December 2012], was Abbot of Balamand before becoming Metropolitan of Europe in one of the fasting-growing Orthodox Churches which traces its history back to the Apostle Peter and Saint Ignatius of Antioch.

Today [20 December] is without commemoration in most calendars of the Western Churches. But in the Eastern Orthodox Church 20 December is observed as the feast day of Saint Ignatius of Antioch.

With less than a week to Christmas Day, it is worth remembering this great Patristic saint, for whom the Incarnation is not just one doctrine among others. For Saint Ignatius, the Incarnation is the Christian faith.

According to Saint Ignatius, a denial of the Eucharistic presence flows from a denial of the incarnation (Smyrnaeans 6-7):

But look at the men who have these perverted notions about the grace of Jesus Christ which has come down to us, and see how contrary to the mind of God they are ... They even absent themselves from the Eucharist and the public prayers because they will not admit that the Eucharist is the self-same body of our Saviour Jesus Christ which suffered for our sins, and which that Father in his goodness afterwards raised up again. Consequently, since they reject God’s good gifts, they are doomed in their disputatiousness. (Smyrnaeans, 6-7, Andrew Louth.)

In the same passage, he draws clear connections between this rejection of the Incarnation of Christ and their shunning of the social obligations of Christian faithfulness:

But look at the men who have those perverted notions about the grace of Jesus Christ which has come down to us, and see how contrary to the mind of God they are. They have no care for love, no thought for the widow and orphan, none at all for the afflicted, the captive, the hungry or the thirsty (Smyrnaeans, 6.2, Andrew Louth.)

Saint Ignatius of Antioch (ca 35-ca 98/117), who is honoured as an apostle, bishop and martyr, is said to have known Saint John the Evangelist personally and converted to Christianity at an early age. A mediaeval legend claimed he was the child Christ took up in his arms (see Mark 9: 35). Earlier traditions say he succeeded Peter and Evodius ca 68 as the third Bishop or Patriarch of Antioch.

He is one of the Apostolic Fathers, the earliest authoritative group of the Church Fathers, and it is argued that his understanding of the nature of the Church and the Eucharist was close to the Apostles and the Apostolic Church.

During the reign of the Emperor Trajan, he was arrested, condemned to death, and sent to Rome for execution.

On his way to martyrdom in Rome, Saint Ignatius was accompanied by his companions, Philo, a deacon of Tarsus, and Rheus Agathopus, a Syrian. Despite all this, his journey was a kind of triumph. News of his fate, his destination, and his probable itinerary had gone swiftly before. At several places along the road his fellow-Christians greeted him with words of comfort and reverential homage.

On that journey, he was taken from Antioch through Tarsus or Attalia, Laodicea, Philadelphia and Sardis, and finally to Smyrna, where the bishop was Saint Polycarp, his fellow-disciple in the school of Saint John the Divine.

His time in Smyrna was protracted, and the representatives of Churches throughout Asia Minor came to meet him and to comfort him. They included representatives of the churches in Ephesus, Magnesia and Tralles. Saint Ignatius addressed letters from Smyrna to each of these communities and to the Church in Rome, exhorting them to obedience to their bishops, and warning them to avoid heresy.

His principal concerns in the letters include the importance of maintaining Christian unity in love and sound doctrine; warnings against factionalism and against the heresy of Docetism – the belief that Christ was not fully human and did not have a material body or really suffer and die; the role of the bishop as the focus of Christian unity; and Christian martyrdom as a a glorious privilege, to be grasped eagerly.

From Smyrna, Saint Ignatius was taken to Troas, where he wrote letters to the Churches of Philadelphia and Smyrna and to Saint Polycarp.

The view of the Coliseum from the Basilica of San Clemente (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Shortly after his arrival in Rome, Saint Ignatius was martyred in the Coliseum. His remains were carried back to Antioch by his companions, Philo of Tarsus and Rheus Agathopus, and were buried outside the city gates. They were moved by the Emperor Theodosius II to the Tychaeum, or Temple of Tyche, which had been converted into a church dedicated to Saint Ignatius.

In 637, his relics were moved to the Basilica of San Clemente in Rome.

At times, Patristic scholars have debated the authenticity of the Ignatian letters. Each particular letter has had its apologists and its opponents. Each has been favoured to the exclusion of all the others, and all, in turn, have been collectively rejected, especially by Calvin. In violent language (Institutes, 1-3), Calvin repudiates all the letters, which completely contradict his own views on ecclesiology and church government. However, their authenticity was defended by the leading Anglican theologians, including John Whitgift, Richard Hooker and Lancelot Andrewes.

In general, Roman Catholic and Anglican scholars accept his letters to the Ephesians, Magnesia, Tralles, Rome, Philadelphia and Smyrna and to Saint Polycarp. Joseph Lightfoot’s five-volume edition of the Apostolic Fathers remains the definitive work on the provenance and text of the writings of Saint Ignatius of Antioch. He writes:

The Ignatian Epistles are exceptionally good training ground for the student of early Christian literature and history. They present in typical and instructive forms the most varied problems, textual, exegetical, doctrinal and historical. One who has thoroughly grasped these problems will be placed in possession of a master key which will open to him vast storehouses of knowledge.

The 42-hectare Kültürpark was laid out on the ruins of the Greek quarter of Smyrna ... while Saint Ignatius was in Smyrna as a prisoner, representatives of Churches throughout Asia Minor came to meet him and to comfort him (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

In his letters, Saint Ignatius discusses ecclesiology, the sacraments, and the role and authority of bishops.

He identifies a local church structure of bishops, priest and deacons, with the bishop in the place of God, the priests in the place of Apostles, and the deacons serving as Christ served:

Let the bishop preside in the place of God, and his clergy in the place of the Apostolic conclave, and let my special friends the deacons be entrusted with the service of Jesus Christ, who was with the Father from all eternity and in these last days has been made manifest. – To the Magnesians, 6 (Andrew Louth).

In his letter to the Magnesians, Saint Ignatius weaves together his Trinitarian faith and his understanding of the threefold order of bishop, priest and deacon, and links his Christology with his ecclesiology:

Do your utmost to stand firm in the precepts of the Lord and the Apostles, so that everything you do, worldly or spiritual, may go prosperously from beginning to end in faith and love, in the Son and the Father and the Spirit, together with your most reverend bishop and that beautifully woven spiritual chaplet, your clergy and godly minded deacons. Be as submissive to the bishop and to one another as Jesus Christ was to his Father, and as the Apostles were to Christ and the Father; so that there may be complete unity, in the flesh as well as the spirit. – To the Magnesians, 13 (Andrew Louth)

Saint Ignatius claims to have spoken in some of the Churches through the inspiration of the Holy Spirit. In an early Patristic poem, he teaches the deity of Christ and his human and divine natures:

“There is only one Physician –

Very Flesh, yet Spirit too;
Uncreated and yet born;
God-and-Man in One agreed;
Very-Life-in-Death indeed;
Fruit of God and of Mary’s seed;
At once impassible and torn
By pain and suffering here below:
Jesus Christ, whom as Lord we know.” – To the Ephesians, 7 (Andrew Louth).

He refers to the Church as a “Eucharistic community” which realises its true nature when it celebrates the Eucharist, and defines the Church as the local community gathered around its bishop, celebrating the Eucharist. He is the second writer after Clement to mention Saint Paul’s Epistles, and he is also responsible for the first known use of the Greek word katholikos (καθολικός), meaning “universal,” “complete” and “whole,” to describe the Church:

The sole Eucharist you should consider valid is the one that is celebrated by the bishop himself, or by some person authorized by him. Where the bishop is to be seen, there let all his people be; just as wherever Jesus Christ is present, we have the catholic Church. Nor is it permissible to conduct baptisms or love-feasts [the Eucharist] without the bishop. On the other hand, whatever does have his sanction can be sure of God’s approval too. This is the way to make certain of the soundness and validity of anything you do. – To the Smyrnaeans 8 (Andrew Louth).

Saint Ignatius, therefore, is the first known Christian writer to emphasise loyalty to a single bishop in each city, who is assisted by both presbyters (priests) and deacons. He also stressed the value of the Eucharist, calling it “a medicine to immortality.” Saint Ignatius “thought of the Church as a Eucharistic society which only realised its true nature when it celebrated the Supper of the Lord, receiving His Body and Blood in the Sacrament.” [Ignatius, quoted in Metropolitan Kallistos (Timothy) Ware, The Orthodox Church, p. 21.]

A colonnade of 14 Corinthian columns on the west side of the Stoa of Smyrna, the only surviving classical site in Izmir. Saint Ignatius of Antioch wrote four of his letters, including one to the Church in Smyrna, while he was a prisoner in Smyrna (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

In the Calendars of the Western Churches, including the Roman Catholic Church, the Episcopal Church (TEC) and Common Worship of the Church of England, Saint Ignatius of Antioch is generally commemorated on 17 October.

Readings:

Psalm 116: 1-8 or 31: 1-5; Romans 8: 35-39; John 12: 23-26.

Prayer:

Almighty God, we praise you for your bishop and martyr Ignatius of Antioch, who offered himself as grain to be ground by the teeth of wild beasts that he might present to you the pure bread of sacrifice. Accept the willing tribute of our lives, and give us a share in the pure and spotless offering of your Son Jesus Christ; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.

Tomorrow (21 December): Saint Thomas the Apostle.

Canon Patrick Comerford is Lecturer in Anglicanism and Liturgy, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute, and a canon of Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin.

With the Saints through Advent (20): 19 December, Lillian Trasher

Lillian Trasher with children at her orphanage in Egypt

Patrick Comerford

With less than a week to go to Christmas Day, Lillian Trasher, who is honoured on this day [19 December] in the calendar of the Episcopal Church is appropriate figure to remember for many reasons, including:

● She is an ecumenical missionary figure who brings together Roman Catholic, Episcopal, Quaker and Pentecostal threads in her life.

● She was a pioneer in women’s ministry, having been ordained 100 years ago in 1912.

● She is a reminder at this Christmas-time that the Christ Child spent his first years as a vulnerable refugee in Egypt.

Lillian Hunt Trasher (1887-1961), who is still known as the “Nile Mother” of Egypt, was one of the most famous missionaries of the 20th century. She was a missionary in Asyut and the founder of the first orphanage in Egypt.

Lillian Trasher was born in Jacksonville, Florida, on 27 September 1887. Her mother was originally a Quaker from Boston, but Lillian was raised as a Roman Catholic in Brunswick, Georgia.

When she was still a teenager and taking part in Bible studies in a friend’s house, she decided to make a personal commitment of her life to Christ.

She attended God’s Bible School in Cincinnati, Ohio, for one term, and then worked at an orphanage in North Carolina. She later said that at a second Bible school, Altamont Bible and Missionary Institute, in Greenville, South Carolina, she experienced “the infilling of the Holy Spirit.”

After a short time as the pastor of a Pentecostal church, she travelled with an evangelist, and then returned to work again at the orphanage.

She was engaged to the Revd Tom Jordan and they were ten days away from marrying in 1910 when she heard a missionary from India speaking at a meeting. She immediately broke off their engagement because she felt called to Africa but he did not.

Not knowing where she would go, she opened her Bible and read: “I have seen, I have seen the affliction of my people which is in Egypt, and I have heard their groaning and am come down to deliver them. And now come, I will send thee to Egypt” (Acts 7: 34).

Defying her family’s wishes, she sailed to Africa. She arrived in Alexandria with less than $100 in her pocket. Her sister Jenny was with her, and the two continued to work together for decades.

A few months after her arrival in Egypt, while Lillian was staying at a mission house in Asyut, 230 miles south of Cairo, a man came to the house with news of a dying woman nearby. Lillian and Sela, an older woman, went to see the woman who died soon after. A translator told Lillian the child’s grandmother was planning to throw the baby into the Nile.

Lillian took the baby girl, and named her Fareida. She rented a small house and some furniture and nursed the child back to health. And so she began her work among orphans.

In 1912, the Church of God of Cleveland, Tennessee, ordained her. By 1918, her orphanage family had grown to 50 children and eight widows.

On 27 March 1919, the British Administration ordered Lillian to leave Egypt. Back in the US, she joined the Assemblies of God, which continued to support her work for the rest of her life.

Lillian Trasher returned to Egypt in 1920, and she continued to work there until 1961 without a break. She once told this story:

My work reminds me of the fable of a little boy who was crossing the desert alone. He became very thirsty so he was obliged to dig in the ground with bleeding fingers until he came to water. He drank and went on his weary way.

Each time he became thirsty he dug holes and his hands became more torn and bleeding. At last he reached the other side, exhausted and fainting, his clothes hanging in dusty rags.

Some months later he looked across the desert and saw a happy little boy coming with his hands full of fresh flowers. The child was coming the very same way he had travelled. He looked at the strange sight in perfect amazement. When the little boy arrived, he asked him how it could be that he had crossed the awful desert and looked so fresh and cool. The child answered, saying, “Oh, the way is beautiful. There are many small wells out of which spring lovely cool water, and around each of these wells there are flowers and shady bushes and soft green grass. I had no trouble at all in crossing.”

The first boy looked down at his own scarred fingers and knew that it was his suffering which had made the desert bloom and had made the way easy for other little boys to cross. But no one would ever know to thank him or to ask who had dug the wells. But, he knew, and was satisfied.

By the time she died on 17 December 1961, the Lillian Trasher Orphanage was supporting 1,200 children. She had cared for nearly 25,000 Egyptian children in all, and her orphanage continues its work to this day.

Although Lillian Trasher died on 17 December, she is honoured with a feast day on 19 December in the calendar of the Episcopal Church.

Collect:

God, whose everlasting arms support the universe: We thank you for moving the heart of Lillian Trasher to heroic hospitality on behalf of orphaned children in great need, and we pray that we also may find our hearts awakened and our compassion stirred to care for your little ones, through the example of our Saviour Jesus Christ and by the energy of your Holy Spirit, who broods over the world like a mother over her children; for they live and reign with you, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

Readings:

Genesis 21: 8-21; Psalm 10: 12-19; II Corinthians 1: 3-7; Luke 17: 1-6.

Tomorrow (20 December): Saint Ignatius of Antioch.

Canon Patrick Comerford is lecturer in Anglicanism and Liturgy, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute, and a canon of Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin.

‘Black Santa’ for an afternoon at Saint Ann’s Church

With Fred Deane and the Revd Martin O’Connor outside Saint Ann’s Church, Dawson Street, this afternoon

Patrick Comerford

I spent the afternoon outside Saint Ann’s Church in Dawson Street as a volunteer collecting for the “Black Santa” Charity Sit-Out.

This year’s sit-out was launched at a special service in Saint Ann’s on Sunday morning.

It was biting-cold weather today, but it was heart-warming to see how people in the City Centre identified so quickly with this annual effort by the clergy and parishioners of Saint Ann’s.

The charities and funds that are earmarked to benefit from this year’s sit-out at Saint Ann’s include: the Society of Saint Vincent de Paul, the Salvation Army, Trust, Barnardos, the Samaritans, the Church of Ireland Bishops’ Appeal, Protestant Aid, as well as other local charities.

The sit-out at Saint Ann’s helps the work of many local and national charities (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2012)

The sit-out at Saint Ann’s has become an annual tradition in this city centre church close to the Mansion House. Last Christmas, the sit-out raised about €30,000, and the Vicar of Saint Ann’s, the Revd David Gillespie, is hoping he can come close to matching that figure this Christmas.

This afternoon, I was part of the sit-out with Fred Deane, the Verger of Saint Ann’s, and the curate, the Revd Martin O’Connor.

It is humbling to see some passers-by, from all walks of life, put €50 or even €100 into the collection box. But it is equally humbling to see someone put in a few small coins, knowing that person has decided to forego a cup of coffee or today’s newspaper to support this worthy effort.

Later in the evening, as I walked from Saint Ann’s to Christ Church Cathedral for a reception in the cathedral crypt to honour the work of volunteers at the Mendicity Institution, the Christmas lights were aglow the full length of Grafton Street. And it was comforting to know that so many people are still committed to the Church bringing the light of Christ into places where there so much darkness this Christmas.

Christmas lights in Grafton Street, Dublin, tonight (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2012)

Nine Lessons and Carols in Christ Church Cathedral

Christ Church Cathedral in the lights of a December night a few nights ago (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2012)

Patrick Comerford

In the last few days, I overheard someone moan that he is all-shopped-out, all-mincepied-out and all carol-ed-out, already.

The poor man. He really is in a bleak mid-winter.

This afternoon I hope to join other clergy in the Black Santa Appeal Charity Sit-Out at Saint Ann’s Church in Dawson Street in Dublin’s city centre. Last night , I was at my third carol service of the season when I took part in the Festival of Nine Lessons and Carols in Christ Church Cathedral.

We had the traditional bidding prayers, readings, collects, carols and hymns. But we also had some interesting pieces from John Rutter, Herbert Howells, David Willcocks, John Tavener and the Liturgy of Saint Basil.

Sitting in the chapter stalls behind the choir, I found a broad beam coming to my face as I listened to one of my true favourites, the carol Gaudete! gaudete! Christus est natus by Bob Chilcott.

This was such an appropriate choice for the choir immediately after the Third Sunday of Advent, or Gaudete Sunday.

During Advent some years ago, I wrote of this song, which was popular in the early 1970s, and how I was first heard it around the same time as I was introduced to English folk rock while I was in the English Midlands and writing for the Lichfield Mercury. After listening to it again last night, I think the story of the song is worth telling once more.

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 Prior and Gay and Terry Woods at different times, they often include Gaudete as a concert encore, and it was published 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

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, the promise 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 lætiticiæ
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 jam 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!

Canon Patrick Comerford is Lecturer in Anglicanism and Liturgy, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute, and a canon of Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin.

With the Saints through Advent (19): 18 December, Saint Flannan of Killaloe

Saint Flannan’s Cathedral, Killaloe, was first built by King Donal Mór O’Brien, and the present, cathedral was built ca 1200

Patrick Comerford

With only a week to go to Christmas, the Calendar in The Book of Common Prayer of the Church of Ireland marks today [18 December] for commemorating Saint Flannan of Killaloe (right), who died in the year 640.

Saint Flannan is celebrated as both abbot and first Bishop of Killaloe and is said to have been a persuasive preacher and missionary. He lived in the sixth and seventh century, but little is known about his life and there are many versions of it.

Saint Flannan was the son of an Irish chieftain, Turlough, who came from the same family as the Kings of Thomond, the ancestors of Brian Boru and the O’Brien and MacMahon families. Turlough has been described as a truly Christian king, as an apostle and preacher rather than a ruler of a kingdom, openly professing and living his faith.

In his youth, Saint Flannan was placed under the care of Saint Blathmet, a Biblical scholar. Saint Blathmet was renowned as a great teacher and children of the nobility were sent from miles around to study with him. Saint Flannan then became a student of the monk, Saint Molua, at his monastery in Killaloe. The name Killaloe means “the Church of Saint Lua.”

Despite family opposition, Flannan became a monk, but his preaching was so persuasive that his own father gave up his throne in his old age, retired to Saint Carthage’s Monastery in Lismore, Co Waterford, and received g a monk’s habit from Saint Colman.

Legend says Saint Flannan worked diligently in the monastery, and prayed the entire Psalter daily. One day, legend says, after he had been baking continuously for 36 hours, a heavenly light shone through the fingers of his left hand. It lit up the darkness to enable him to continue with his task. The Abbot, on learning of this, was so impressed that he decided to retire from his position and he appointed Flannan as Abbot in his place.

His time as Abbot of Killaloe has become legendary, being described as a period when “the fields waved with the richest crops, the sea poured almost on the shore an abundance of large whales and every kind of smaller fish, and the apple trees drooped under the weight of the fruit, woods abounded in acorns and hazelnuts, the most restless nations were at peace, and the poor of every description experienced open-handed hospitality.”

The people of Thomond decided that Flannan should become their bishop and it is said Flannan made a pilgrimage to Rome where Pope John IV consecrated him the first bishop of Killaloe in 639 before he returned to Ireland.

However, Pope John IV was elected Pope on 24 December 640 – six days after Saint Flannan is said to have died in Killaloe. While still Pope-elect, John and other bishops wrote to the clergy of Ireland and Scotland telling them they were mistaken in their calculation of the date of Easter and warning them against the heresy of Pelagianism.

It is said that on his journey back to Ireland, Flannan travelled through Tuscany and Burgundy. He preached throughout Ireland, and it is also claimed that he worked as a missionary in Scotland and in the Hebrides. There was a church of his at Inishlannaun in Lough Corrib and another on Inishbofin. However, it is not certain that Saint Flannan of Killaloe is the same person as Saint Flannan of Scotland.

During his life, it is said, Saint Flannan of Killaloe performed many miracles. The 12th century Life of Saint Flannan says he spent his life “like a skilful and careful gardener sowing the seeds of every virtue in the hearts of the faithful.”

When Saint Flannan felt his death was approaching, he gathered some of his disciples and told them of the importance of observing natural and human justice and asked them to encourage peace among the people of the provinces. He blessed his relatives before he died on 18 December 640.

After his death, his reputation for holiness spread throughout Ireland and his grave in Killaloe, Co Clare, became a place of pilgrimage.

These are the myths and the legends anyway. But there are no historical records of a Saint Flannan of Killaloe, and the 12th century biography of him is without any historical value.

It seems the stories that grew up around Saint Flannan drew on the stories associated with another Saint Flannan, who lived in the Hebrides in the seventh century and gave his name to the Flannan Islands, and incorporated some of the biographical details of Flannan of Cill Ard in West Clare, who died in 778.

Far from Flannan being the first Bishop of Killaloe in the first half of the seventh century, the Diocese of Killaloe appears to have its roots in the territorial ambitions of the descendants of Brian Boru, who made Killaloe the capital of his expanding Kingdom of Dál gCais at the end of the tenth century. Indeed, there is no mention of Killaloe in the Irish annals before that date.

The first recorded Bishop of Killaloe is Domnall Ua hÉnna I, who died in 1098, over 90 decades after Bran Boru died at the Battle of Clontarf in 1014 ... and almost 450 years after Saint Flannan is said to have died.

Killaloe was not recognised as a diocese for another 13 years at the Synod of Ráith Breassail in 1111, and the first recognised diocesan bishop was Máel Muire Ua Dúnáin. In its first form, the diocese may have been short-lived, for Máel Muire resigned shortly afterwards, and became a monk in Clonard, where he died in 1117.

A cathedral was not built at Killaloe until the reign of Domhnall Mór O Brien (1168-1194), who built the first cathedral in 1180. But all that remains of that first cathedral is a Romanesque doorway now in the south-west corner of the present nave.

Saint Flannan’s Cathedral on the banks of the River Shannon, Co Clare

The Diocese of Killaloe has parishes in Co Clare, Co Tipperary, Co Offaly, Co Limerick and Co Laois, and geographically it is one of the larger dioceses in Ireland at about 4,500 sq km, stretching from the Atlantic seaboard in West Clare to the foothills of the Slieve Bloom Mountains in Co Laois.

I was first invited to preach in Saint Flannan’s Cathedral in 1999 at the ordination of the Revd Patricia Hanna. This is one of the four cathedrals in the United Dioceses of Limerick and Killaloe in the Church of Ireland – the other three are in Limerick, Clofert and Kilfenora.

Killaloe Cathedral dates from the transition between the Romanesque and Gothic periods of architecture, when King Domhnall Mór O Brien built the first cathedral in Killaloe ca 1180. His cathedral was destroyed by Cathal Carrach of Connaught in 1185. Saint Flannan’s Cathedral was built ca 1200, the nave was completed ca 1225, and the cathedral has been in continuous use since then.

Among the cathedral’s notable features is the imposing east window. The richly carved Romanesque doorway in the south-west corner survives from the earlier cathedral. The stone carving of this doorway dates from ca 1185, and is one of the finest examples of Romanesque sculpture in Ireland. Three of the arches are decorated with chevron or zig-zag ornaments, and covered with animal and foliage designs. The arch was rebuilt in the early 18th century to provide a focus for the reputed burial place of Muircheartach O’Brien, King of Munster, who died during a pilgrimage to Killaloe in 1119. Two grave stones at the base of the doorway are said to mark the spot.

The cathedral also has a unique Ogham stone, dating from ca 1000 AD, which also has a Viking inscription in Runes or Scandinavian script. The Runes read: “Thorgrimr carved this cross.” The Ogham reads: “A Blessing on Thorgrimr.”

The High Cross dates from the late 11th or early 12th century. The head of the cross is dominated by the figure of the crucified Christ, surrounded by interlace, fret and animal ornament. The cross originally comes from Kilfenora in north-west Clare, where it had fallen and was broken. It was brought to Killaloe in 1821 by Bishop Richard Mant, who had it erected in the grounds of the Bishop’s Palace at Clarisford. It was brought into the cathedral and embedded in the cathedral walls in the 1930s, but it now stands in the nave of the cathedral.

The font is decorated with arabesque pattern and designs. The rectangular basin of the font dates from the 13th century and is carved on one face with a typical cross and foliage design, probably by a local craftsman. The font was originally a “table” or “polypod” font with five legs mounted on a square plinth. It now stands on a shaft of uncertain date. Although a decree in 1189 stated that every church in Ireland should have “an immovable font” of stone or wood lined with lead, remarkably few mediaeval fonts remain, making the font in Killaloe unique.

The tower was increased in height in the late 18th century and was again altered in 1892 when a peal of bells was installed.

A £200,000 restoration project involving the repair of a Romanesque doorway and the restoring the 12th century high cross was completed in 2001.

On the north side of the cathedral, the earlier oratory may be the original sanctuary of the saint who founded the abbey.

Tomorrow (19 December): Lillian Trasher.

Canon Patrick Comerford is Lecturer in Anglicanism and Liturgy, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute, and a canon of Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin.