Daily prayer in the Kingdom Season: 25, Tuesday 25 November 2025

‘Many will come in my name and say … “The time is near!” Do not go after them’ (Luke 21: 8) … the clock at Donegal House and the Guildhall in Lichfield (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Patrick Comerford

We are in the Kingdom Season, the time between All Saints’ Day and Advent, and this week began with the Sunday next before Advent and the Feast of Christ the King (23 November 2025). The calendar of the Church of England in Common Worship today remembers Saint Catherine of Alexandria, Martyr in the 4th century, and Isaac Watts (1674-1748), hymnwriter.

Saint Catherine of Alexandria is the Patron Saint of the Institute for Orthodox Christian Studies, where I have studied in Cambridge. IOCS is celebrating her Feast today at the Greek Orthodox Church of Saint Athanasios, Cambridge, today (25 November 2025), starting with Matins at 9 am, followed by the Divine Liturgy at 10 am, and with a Thanksgiving Service in the evening at 6 pm, followed by refreshments and fellowship in the parish hall.

Meanwhile, before the day begins, I am taking some quiet time early this morning, even before breakfast, to give thanks, to reflect, to pray and to read in these ways:

1, today’s Gospel reading;

2, a short reflection;

3, a prayer from the USPG prayer diary;

4, the Collects and Post-Communion prayer of the day.

‘When you hear of wars and insurrections, do not be terrified’ (Luke 21: 9) … the 1798 Rising recalled in street art in a laneway behind Anne Street and North Main Street in Wexford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Luke 21: 5-11 (NRSVA):

5 When some were speaking about the temple, how it was adorned with beautiful stones and gifts dedicated to God, he said, 6 ‘As for these things that you see, the days will come when not one stone will be left upon another; all will be thrown down.’

7 They asked him, ‘Teacher, when will this be, and what will be the sign that this is about to take place?’ 8 And he said, ‘Beware that you are not led astray; for many will come in my name and say, “I am he!” and, “The time is near!” Do not go after them.

9 ‘When you hear of wars and insurrections, do not be terrified; for these things must take place first, but the end will not follow immediately.’ 10 Then he said to them, ‘Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; 11 there will be great earthquakes, and in various places famines and plagues; and there will be dreadful portents and great signs from heaven.’

‘Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom’ (Luke 21: 10) … ‘Fuascailt’, Eamonn O’Doherty’s sculpture of the 1798 Wexford pikemen on the N25 near Barntown and Taghmon, Co Wexford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Today’s reflection:

The Gospel reading at the Eucharist this morning (Luke 21: 5-11) is part of Saint Luke’s ‘Little Apocalypse’, to which we were introduced on the Sunday before last (see Luke 21: 5-19, Sunday 16 November 2025, the Second Sunday before Advent).

On his arrival in Jerusalem, Christ weeps, invokes sayings from the Prophet Jeremiah against a city that ‘did not recognise the time of your visitation from God’ (Luke 19: 41-44), and then faces up to three attempts by the authorities to entrap him, each concluding with Christ silencing his opponents (Luke 20: 1-19; 20: 20-26; and 20: 27-38).

The scene has been set in the verses in this chapter that immediately precede today’s reading. Christ is sitting by the Temple Treasury, where he watches the poor widow offer the smallest of coins (verses 1-4), as we read yesterday.

The scene does not change as he goes on to speak about the Temple, the Nation, and the looming future. But, instead of questioning him about what he has just said about this widow, which might have offered a focus for how the politics of God work, those around him, probably a wider group than just his own disciples, cannot get past the physical presence and appearance of Herod’s Temple in Jerusalem, then revered as a sign of God’s presence, even as the dwelling place of God’s sheltering protection for Israel (see Luke 13:34-35).

Christ is no longer facing attacks from others. Instead, he alerts his followers to the hardships they face ahead, beyond the time of his journey. But as he approached Jerusalem, Christ had declared that God’s ‘visitation’ had come with his reign, that the very stones of the Temple would testify against those who rejected him (19: 41-44).

Now he again predicts that all the stones will be thrown down (21: 6), as one scene in the divine drama.

A web of prophetic citations is woven through these verses. These include words and phrases from Jeremiah 4, 7, 14, and 21; Isaiah 19; and Ezekiel 14 and 38. Maybe we might say that Christ, like the prophets before him, was not very original in what he said. But there is still the question: how faithfully did these prophetic words and warnings of destruction speak to the people of the time, to the people who heard Christ speak?

But Christ also differentiates his teaching from the teaching of the false prophets, who also quoted the ancient words of God. While announcing the coming judgment, Christ cautions against following prophets who claim to know God’s timetable, even invoking Christ’s own name.

The account in this chapter of Christ’s words could be compared with Mark 13, and its intensity of the coming ‘tribulation.’ Or we might go back to Luke 17: 22-37, which also reminds us that Christ’s death is an integral part of God’s timetable: ‘But first he must endure much suffering and be rejected by this generation’ (17: 25). Saint Luke’s longer account of Christ’s discourse (21: 5-36) assures his readers they are experiencing not ‘the end’ … but the period of ‘tribulations’ or ‘persecutions’ through which believers will enter the kingdom (see Acts 14: 22).

And so, Saint Luke’s account of Christ’s speech does not provide yet another programme or timetable to predict the working out of God’s plan, down to the last second. The prophets and Christ teach us that the struggles in history and in disturbances in nature are more than accidental. They remind us that God triumphed over chaos in creating the natural world, and yet both human and supra-historical forces are still contending for the earth. Christ’s followers are aware, therefore, that his death and resurrection is God’s ultimate act in a struggle of cosmic proportions. Only the final outcome is sure.

As the Apostle Paul writes: ‘We know that the whole creation has been groaning in labour pains until now; and not only the creation, be we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly while we wait for adoption, the redemption of our bodies’ (Romans 8: 22-23).

The hope to which Christ testifies in this passage, therefore, is no trivial denial of the struggles, the pain and agony of human life, or the catastrophic forces of nature. These are real, and the prophets of old have interpreted such devastations as the context of God’s saving work. Christ joins this chorus, bringing it close to the concrete realities of early Christians. But he says: ‘This will give you an opportunity to testify’ (verse 13) and ‘By your endurance you will gain your souls’ (verse 19).

The ‘opportunity to testify’ does not require Christ’s followers to know every answer to the question: ‘Why do bad things happen to good people.’

Christ is promising that he will give us ‘words and a wisdom that none of your opponents will be able to withstand or contradict.’ His earlier promise of the Holy Spirit’s wisdom in times of testimony (see Luke 12: 11-12) now becomes his own promise. When he commissions them as ‘my witnesses’ (Acts 1: 8), he assures them of the power and the presence of his Holy Spirit, and the stories in Acts will display the fulfilment of this promise of God’s ‘mouth and wisdom’ (see Acts 4: 13-14; 16: 6-7). And so, even these harsh prophecies in Luke 21 are filled with the confidence of Christ’s enduring presence.

And the ‘endurance’ that ‘will gain your soul’ (verse 19) is also not mere heroic persistence.

The early Christians knew all about endurance, and that endurance was often tested. Paul echoes that theme in Romans 5: 3-5, then transformed this endurance from reliance on human strength to trusting in God’s love: ‘… we also boast in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.’

Saving endurance is a gift of the presence of the Holy Spirit.

A problem that continues to dominate parish priorities is the emphasis on buildings rather than people. Are there ‘building blocks’ we need to knock down so we can start again and care for little people like the poor widow who was at the centre of yesterday’s reading?

Is it time to rebuild, to become the kind of temples God really wants?

Should we change church politics and priorities for God’s politics and priorities?

In pursuing God’s vision for the future of the Church and the Kingdom, are we relying on our own knowledge and strengths?

What risks are we willing to take for our core values?

How would you be prophetic and offer hope in the face of the rise of the far-right across Europe or Trump’s behaviour in office in the US?

How do you read the signs of the times when it comes to global events, such as the conflicts in Ukraine, Russia, Gaza, Israel, Palestine and Lebanon?

Have we a vision for a new heaven and a new earth (see Isaiah 65: 17-25)?

How do we balance concerns for the wider world with those for the widow and her small coin in our parishes?

‘When you hear of wars and insurrections, do not be terrified’ (Luke 21: 9) … a plaque recalling the executions and deaths on Wexford Bridge in 1798 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Today’s Prayers (Tuesday 25 November 2025):

The theme this week (23 to 29 November) in Pray with the World Church, the prayer diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), is ‘Gender Justice’ (pp 58-59). This theme was introduced on Sunday with Reflections by Rachael Anderson, former Senior Communications and Engagement Manager, USPG.

Today is International Day for the Elimination of Violence against Women and Girls, and the day is being marked in Milton Keynes with a vigil at the Rose in Campbell Park from 6 pm to 6:45 ‘to raise Awareness, Reflection and Action’. The USPG Prayer Diary today invites us to pray:

We pray that this year’s 16 Days campaign might make governments, churches and communities around the world take notice and support an end to gender-based violence.

The Collect:

Eternal Father,
whose Son Jesus Christ ascended to the throne of heaven
that he might rule over all things as Lord and King:
keep the Church in the unity of the Spirit
and in the bond of peace,
and bring the whole created order to worship at his feet;
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.

Post Communion Prayer:

Stir up, O Lord,
the wills of your faithful people;
that they, plenteously bringing forth the fruit of good works,
may by you be plenteously rewarded;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Additional Collect:

God the Father,
help us to hear the call of Christ the King
and to follow in his service,
whose kingdom has no end;
for he reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,
one God, one glory.

Yesterday’s Reflections

Continued Tomorrow

Saint Catherine of Alexandria (25 November) is patron of the IOCS in Cambridge … an icon in the Greek Orthodox Church in Stony Stratford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)

Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible: Anglicised Edition copyright © 1989, 1995 National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide. http://nrsvbibles.org

Daily prayer in the Kingdom Season: 26, Tuesday 26 November 2024

‘When you hear of wars and insurrections, do not be terrified’ (Luke 21: 9) … ‘War’ by Richard Klingbeil (2009)

Patrick Comerford

We are in the Kingdom Season, the time between All Saints’ Day and Advent, and this week began with the Sunday next before Advent and the Feast of Christ the King (24 November 2024).

Before the day begins, I am taking some quiet time early this morning to give thanks, to reflect, to pray and to read in these ways:

1, today’s Gospel reading;

2, a short reflection;

3, a prayer from the USPG prayer diary;

4, the Collects and Post-Communion prayer of the day.

‘When you hear of wars and insurrections, do not be terrified’ (Luke 21: 9) … the 1798 Rising recalled in street art in a laneway behind Anne Street and North Main Street in Wexford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Luke 21: 5-11 (NRSVA):

5 When some were speaking about the temple, how it was adorned with beautiful stones and gifts dedicated to God, he said, 6 ‘As for these things that you see, the days will come when not one stone will be left upon another; all will be thrown down.’

7 They asked him, ‘Teacher, when will this be, and what will be the sign that this is about to take place?’ 8 And he said, ‘Beware that you are not led astray; for many will come in my name and say, “I am he!” and, “The time is near!” Do not go after them.

9 ‘When you hear of wars and insurrections, do not be terrified; for these things must take place first, but the end will not follow immediately.’ 10 Then he said to them, ‘Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; 11 there will be great earthquakes, and in various places famines and plagues; and there will be dreadful portents and great signs from heaven.’

‘Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom’ (Luke 21: 10) … ‘Fuascailt’, Eamonn O’Doherty’s sculpture of the 1798 Wexford pikemen on the N25 near Barntown and Taghmon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Today’s reflection:

The Gospel reading at the Eucharist this morning (Luke 21: 5-11) is Saint Luke’s telling of the events recalled in the Gospel reading at the Eucharist on the Sunday before last (see Mark 13: 1-8, Sunday 17 November 2024, Second Sunday before Advent).

On his arrival in Jerusalem, Christ weeps, invokes sayings from the Prophet Jeremiah against a city that ‘did not recognise the time of your visitation from God’ (Luke 19: 41-44), and then faces up to three attempts by the authorities to entrap him, each concluding with Christ silencing his opponents (Luke 20: 1-19; 20: 20-26; and 20: 27-38).

The scene has been set in the verses in this chapter that immediately precede today’s reading. Christ is sitting by the Temple Treasury, where he watches the poor widow offer the smallest of coins (verses 1-4), as we read yesterday.

The scene does not change as he goes on to speak about the Temple, the Nation, and the looming future. But, instead of questioning him about what he has just said about this widow, which might have offered a focus for how the politics of God work, those around him, probably a wider group than just his own disciples, cannot get past the physical presence and appearance of Herod’s Temple in Jerusalem, then revered as a sign of God’s presence, even as the dwelling place of God’s sheltering protection for Israel (see Luke 13:34-35).

Christ is no longer facing attacks from others. Instead, he alerts his followers to the hardships they face ahead, beyond the time of his journey. But as he approached Jerusalem, Christ had declared that God’s ‘visitation’ had come with his reign, that the very stones of the Temple would testify against those who rejected him (19: 41-44).

Now he again predicts that all the stones will be thrown down (21: 6), as one scene in the divine drama.

A web of prophetic citations is woven through these verses. These include words and phrases from Jeremiah 4, 7, 14, and 21; Isaiah 19; and Ezekiel 14 and 38. Maybe we could say that Christ, like the prophets before him, was not very original in what he said. But there is still the question: how faithfully did these prophetic words and warnings of destruction speak to the people of the time, to the people who heard Christ speak?

But Christ also differentiates his teaching from the teaching of the false prophets, who also quoted the ancient words of God. While announcing the coming judgment, Christ cautions against following prophets who claim to know God’s timetable, even invoking Christ’s own name.

The account in this chapter of Christ’s words could be compared with Mark 13, and its intensity of the coming ‘tribulation.’ Or we might go back to Luke 17: 22-37, which also reminds us that Christ’s death is an integral part of God’s timetable: ‘But first he must endure much suffering and be rejected by this generation’ (17: 25). Saint Luke’s longer account of Christ’s discourse (21: 5-36) assures his readers they are experiencing not ‘the end’ … but the period of ‘tribulations’ or ‘persecutions’ through which believers will enter the kingdom (see Acts 14: 22).

And so, Saint Luke’s account of Christ’s speech does not provide yet another programme or timetable to predict the working out of God’s plan, down to the last second. The prophets and Christ teach us that the struggles in history and in disturbances in nature are more than accidental. They remind us that God triumphed over chaos in creating the natural world, and yet both human and supra-historical forces are still contending for the earth. Christ’s followers are aware, therefore, that his death and resurrection is God’s ultimate act in a struggle of cosmic proportions. Only the final outcome is sure.

As the Apostle Paul writes: ‘We know that the whole creation has been groaning in labour pains until now; and not only the creation, be we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly while we wait for adoption, the redemption of our bodies’ (Romans 8: 22-23).

The hope to which Christ testifies in this passage, therefore, is no trivial denial of the struggles, the pain and agony of human life, or the catastrophic forces of nature. These are real, and the prophets of old have interpreted such devastations as the context of God’s saving work. Christ joins this chorus, bringing it close to the concrete realities of early Christians. But he says: ‘This will give you an opportunity to testify’ (verse 13) and ‘By your endurance you will gain your souls’ (verse 19).

The ‘opportunity to testify’ does not require Christ’s followers to know every answer to the question: ‘Why do bad things happen to good people.’

Christ is promising that he will give us ‘words and a wisdom that none of your opponents will be able to withstand or contradict.’ His earlier promise of the Holy Spirit’s wisdom in times of testimony (see Luke 12: 11-12) now becomes his own promise. When he commissions them as ‘my witnesses’ (Acts 1: 8), he assures them of the power and the presence of his Holy Spirit, and the stories in Acts will display the fulfilment of this promise of God’s ‘mouth and wisdom’ (see Acts 4: 13-14; 16: 6-7). And so, even these harsh prophecies in Luke 21 are filled with the confidence of Christ’s enduring presence.

And the ‘endurance’ that ‘will gain your soul’ (verse 19) is also not mere heroic persistence.

The early Christians knew all about endurance, and that endurance was often tested. Paul echoes that theme in Romans 5: 3-5, then transformed this endurance from reliance on human strength to trusting in God’s love: ‘… we also boast in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.’

Saving endurance is a gift of the presence of the Holy Spirit.

A problem that continues to dominate parish priorities is the emphasis on buildings rather than people. Are there ‘building blocks’ we need to knock down so we can start again and care for little people like the poor widow who was at the centre of yesterday’s reading?

Is it time to rebuild, to become the kind of temples God really wants?

Should we change church politics and priorities for God’s politics and priorities?

In pursuing God’s vision for the future of the church and the Kingdom, are we relying on our own knowledge and strengths?

What risks are we willing to take for our core values?

How would you be prophetic and offer hope in the face of the rise of the far-right across Europe or Trump’s return to office in the US?

How do you read the signs of the times when it comes to global events, such as the conflicts in Ukraine, Russia, Gaza, Israel, Palestine and Lebanon?

Have we a vision for a new heaven and a new earth (see Isaiah 65: 17-25)?

How do we balance concerns for the wider world with those for the widow and her small coin in our parishes?

‘Many will come in my name and say … “The time is near!” Do not go after them’ (Luke 21: 8) … the clock at Donegal House and the Guildhall in Lichfield (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)

Today’s Prayers (Tuesday 26 November 2024):

The theme this week in ‘Pray With the World Church’, the Prayer Diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), is ‘16 Days of Activism Against Gender-Based Violence’. This theme was introduced on Sunday with a Programme Update.

The USPG Prayer Diary today invites us to pray:

God of justice and righteousness, use us to speak against gender-based violence with a clear and challenging voice in a world where the vulnerable strive to be heard. (Mothers’ Union).

The Collect:

Eternal Father,
whose Son Jesus Christ ascended to the throne of heaven
that he might rule over all things as Lord and King:
keep the Church in the unity of the Spirit
and in the bond of peace,
and bring the whole created order to worship at his feet;
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.

Post Communion Prayer:

Stir up, O Lord,
the wills of your faithful people;
that they, plenteously bringing forth the fruit of good works,
may by you be plenteously rewarded;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Additional Collect:

God the Father,
help us to hear the call of Christ the King
and to follow in his service,
whose kingdom has no end;
for he reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,
one God, one glory.

Yesterday’s Reflection

Continued Tomorrow

‘When you hear of wars and insurrections, do not be terrified’ (Luke 21: 9) … a plaque recalling the executions and deaths on Wexford Bridge (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible: Anglicised Edition copyright © 1989, 1995 National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide. http://nrsvbibles.org

‘One of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God’

Harvest time and harvest resources … harvest in a field near Cappoquin, Co Waterford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2020)

Patrick Comerford

Sunday 4 October 2020 (Trinity XVII, Harvest Thanksgiving),

9.30 a.m.: The Parish Eucharist (Holy Communion 2), Saint Mary’s Church, Askeaton

11.30 a.m.: Morning Prayer (Morning Prayer 2), Saint Brendan’s Church, Kilnaughtin (Tarbert)

Readings: Deuteronomy 8: 7-18; Psalm 65; Luke 17: 11-19

A full barn on my grandmother’s former farm near Cappoquin, Co Waterford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2020)

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

The Gospel reading this morning (Luke 17: 11-19) is not one we readily associate with Harvest time. It is unlike the beautiful, rich harvest images in the first reading (Deuteronomy 8: 7-18), unlike the images we expect when it comes to giving thanks for the Harvest.

It is a story of sickness, both personal sickness and the deeper malaise to be found in society; it is a story of marginalisation and discrimination; and a story of the use and the abuse of religious authority and power.

But then harvest is not just about bringing in the crops and giving thanks for God’s blessings on the land – however slim they may appear to be this year. Harvest, at a deeper level, is about the restorative justice that Christ seeks as a sign of what the Kingdom of God is like.

Today is also the feast day of Saint Francis of Assisi. Although he is not named in the calendar of the Church of Ireland, the friary ruins in Askeaton and Lislaughtin make him a saint to identify with in this group of parishes.

One of the best-known stories about Saint Francis is his early encounter with a man suffering from leprosy. As a young man, he found people like this man repulsive. But something drove him to get off his horse, and as the man stretched out his hand towards him, Francis embraced him and kissed him.

As he got back on his horse, Francis turned around, only to realise that he had an encounter with the living Christ. It was a meeting that changed his direction, converted his soul, and had an irreversible impact on the universal Church.

Try to imagine the horrific scene that confronted Jesus as he entered a village with no name in that dangerous zone between Samaria and Galilee on the way to Jerusalem … It is an isolated area, the sort of place where a man travelling from Jerusalem to Jericho could expect to be mugged, robbed and left for dead, with anyone who saw him, unlike Francis, unlike Jesus, would have rushed away hastily.

In the Gospel story, Jesus is on a road where one could be mugged (see Luke 10: 30-37), in an area where you could not expect to meet a Good Samaritan.

It is wilderness country, bandit territory. It is an area marked by discrimination and prejudice, deeply divided by sectarianism, racism and prejudice. Jews and Samaritans lived separate lives: they could not share the same food, the same shops, the same streets, even the same villages. Although they shared a similar religious heritage and stories, they despised each other.

And this is an area where those who are disabled or scarred by their physical ailments are cast aside, left on their own, without help – political, social, economic or religious.

After a long journey, as Jesus reaches this village, out from the rocks appear a rough-looking gang of dishevelled, disfigured, bedraggled, unkempt and filthy men, shouting out loudly. How dangerous are they? If they come too close, will he be contaminated too?

But these men are so desperate, so isolated, they keep their distance and all they ask for is mercy. Mercy is all they want.

And what Christ offers them is not mercy of the tea-and-sympathy sort. What he invites them to, is to be restored to, to accept again, their full place in society.

We do not know when they were healed. When they called out for mercy? When Jesus spoke to them? When they obeyed his command? Yet the healing is less important than the collective action they are asked to take. They are asked to go together and show themselves to the priests. This allowed them to get a clean bill of health so they could be restored to their place in normal family, community, social, political, economic and religious life.

The Kingdom of God is a place where all can take part in life in all its fullness. And what these 10 people are offered is a place back in society that will be an example of what the Kingdom of God is like.

The Samaritan is the only one to come back to say thank you. But I often wonder why this Samaritan even bothers in the first place to think of going to show himself to the priests. The priests could give a clean bill of health to the other nine. But they would never give one to a Samaritan. He is an outsider. Healed or not, he remains contaminated, unclean, impure, despised, rejected and isolated. He is ‘one of them.’ He has no place with us.

But Christ is saying he has. Christ is counting him in. Jesus wants him to benefit from the great harvest and to sit down at the heavenly banquet.

The action of Christ in healing the Samaritan alongside the other nine, in sending him too to the priests to claim to a full, restored place in society, tells us the Kingdom of God is there for all. All are invited in. And when we start excluding others we too become weak, we too fail to reap the rich harvest God offers us.

The Kingdom of God is offered too to the Samaritans in our midst, to those afflicted with anything that places them outside normal, acceptable life: the immigrant who is isolated because of the rise in vulgar racism; the single mother; the farmer whose harvest hopes are not being realised; the child who cannot get a special needs assistant at school; the distraught couple minding demanding and ageing grandparents; the once-successful businessman whose enterprise has gone to the wall during the lockdown; the workers who have lost their jobs and lost hope in the future.

Too often in the past, our traditional Harvest readings have been read both in a cosy, comfortable way, and in a way that separates the harvest from the full riches of creation. Yet those beautiful promises in the first reading (Deuteronomy 8: 7-18) of a rich harvest were made not in a time of plenty, but to people in the wilderness, when they had been wandering for far too many years.

Even when there is little hope at harvest time, even at times when we feel most isolated, marginalised and unloved, even in these times of Covid-19, these times of pandemic and lockdown, God promises us a rich harvest that goes beyond this year’s yields, a harvest that will be so rich that we can also build up hopes for righteousness, for justice and for love.

And when the harvest is difficult, when we are not bringing in the returns we hoped for at the time of sowing, when economic gloom and doom appear to be imminent and the pandemic restrictions seem to turn everything sour, we should remember that God’s creation is more splendid and more beautiful than anything we can imagine.

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

As he entered a village, ten lepers approached him … they called out, saying, ‘Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!’ (Luke 17: 12-13)

Luke 17: 11-19 (NRSVA):

11 On the way to Jerusalem Jesus was going through the region between Samaria and Galilee. 12 As he entered a village, ten lepers approached him. Keeping their distance, 13 they called out, saying, ‘Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!’ 14 When he saw them, he said to them, ‘Go and show yourselves to the priests.’ And as they went, they were made clean. 15 Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice. 16 He prostrated himself at Jesus’ feet and thanked him. And he was a Samaritan. 17 Then Jesus asked, ‘Were not ten made clean? But the other nine, where are they? 18 Was none of them found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?’ 19 Then he said to him, ‘Get up and go on your way; your faith has made you well.’

‘Eternal God, you crown the year with your goodness’ (the Harvest Collect) … harvest fields near Lichfield (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019)

Liturgical colour: Green (Ordinary Time, Year A).

The Collect of the Day (Harvest):

Eternal God,
you crown the year with your goodness
and give us the fruits of the earth in their season:
Grant that we may use them to your glory,
for the relief of those in need
and for our own well-being;
through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen

Collect (Saint Francis, Common Worship):

O God, you ever delight to reveal yourself
to the childlike and lowly of heart:
grant that, following the example of the blessed Francis,
we may count the wisdom of this world as foolishness
and know only Jesus Christ and him crucified,
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever. Amen.

The Post Communion Prayer (Harvest):

Lord of the harvest,
with joy we have offered thanksgiving for your love in creation
and have shared in the bread and wine of the kingdom.
By your grace plant within us such reverence
for all that you give us
that will make us wise stewards the of the good things we enjoy;
through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

The cloisters in the Franciscan Friary in Askeaton, Co Limerick (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2020)

Hymns:

37: Come, ye thankful people, come (CD 3)
47: We plough the fields and scatter (CD 3)

‘We plough the fields and scatter’ (Hymn 47) … harvest in fields near the banks of the River Deel in Askeaton, Co Limerick (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2020)

Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible: Anglicised Edition copyright © 1989, 1995, National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide. http://nrsvbibles.org

Material from the Book of Common Prayer is copyright © 2004, Representative Body of the Church of Ireland.

‘You make the gateways of the morning and the evening shout for joy’ (Psalm 65: 8) … a gateway into harvest fields near Barntown, Co Wexford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2020)

Who fears to speak of ’98? Thoughts on Bagenal Harvey on Wexford Bridge and quays

Wexford Bridge seen from Wexford’s quays (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2020)

Patrick Comerford

‘Who fears to speak of ’Ninety-Eight?’

The opening words of a poem by Professor John Kells Ingram were quoted regularly throughout the 1798 bicentenary commemorations throughout 1998. They came to mind last week during the second stage of my summer ‘Road Trip,’ as I strolled along Wexford Quay and onto Wexford Bridge.

Like many other aspects of the 1798 Rising, this poem has many connections with the Church of Ireland: the actual title of the poem, written in 1843, is ‘The Memory of the Dead,’ and its author, the economist and poet John Kells Ingram (1823-1907), was born in a Church of Ireland rectory in Co Donegal, the son of the Revd William Ingram.

In James Joyce’s Ulysses, Leopold Bloom alludes mentally to Ingram’s ‘Who Fears to Speak?’ in the ‘Wandering Rocks’ episode: ‘Fine poem that is: Ingram. They were gentlemen. Ben Dollard does sing that ballad touchingly. Masterly rendition.’

Throughout the bicentenary commemorations, which seemed to stretch across a two- or three-year period from 1996 to 1998 or 1999, I spoke throughout Co Wexford on the involvement of members of the Church of Ireland in the events in 1798.

Thanks to the efforts of Comoradh ’98 that year, there was a much more accurate, balanced and nuanced understanding than in previous commemorations of the events, the personalities, the lead-up to and the aftermath of the 1798 Rebellion.

Street art in a laneway behind Anne Street and North Main Street in Wexford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2020)

I spoke in churches, schools and hotels, at seminars and meetings, workshops and summer schools, wrote features in The Irish Times, papers in history journals, and chapters for books, was interviewed for television and radio documentaries, unveiled plaques in churchyards and spoke one evening at a commemorative service on Wexford Bridge.

The participants in that service in memory of all who died on Wexford Bridge during the summer of 1798 included Bishop John Neill, then Bishop of Cashel and Ferns, the late Canon Norman Ruddock, then Rector of Wexford, and Father Walter Forde, then Parish Priest of Castlebridge.

In a kind letter later that week to The Irish Times, Walter Forde spoke of my ‘superb address at the Wexford Bridge service.’

On that evening, I drew attention to the fact that there were no memorials in Wexford to the key Church of Ireland personalities from the 1798 period. I suggested that the recently reconstructed Wexford Bridge should be renamed in honour of the commander of the Wexford army and president of the Wexford Town Committee, Beauchamp Bagenal Harvey, a member of the Church of Ireland.

In supporting that call, Father Forde suggested that Harvey should be linked with the name of the far-seeing and humane Roman Catholic from Castlebridge, General Edward Roche, and, he asked, ‘Why not the Harvey/Roche Bridge?’

Almost a quarter of a century after those bicentenary commemorations, it was interesting to take a fresh look last week at the plaques and memorials on Wexford Bridge.

One of these plaques recalls that the first bridge crossing the River Slaney on this site was a timber bridge constructed by Lemuel Cox of Boston in 1795, three years before the Rising. The bridge, which saw a frightful procession of executions in 1798, was repaired and strengthened in 1825 after storm damage.

That bridge was replaced in 1856 by a new bridge about 1 km upstream and built by Pierce Brothers of Wexford. But Wexford Bridge returned to the site associated with the1798 Rising in 1959, when a new pre-stressed concrete bridge was built by Ascon Ltd. That bridge was replaced in a 1997 with a steel structure that took just 10 weeks to complete. Ascon were the main contractors, and the consulting engineers were John B Barry and Partners. The bridge was opened on 22 November 1997.

One of the plaques recalling the executions and deaths on Wexford Bridge (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2020)

A plaque was erected on the bridge by the 1798 commemoration committee, naming Father Philip Roche, John Kelly, John Colclough, Edmond Kyan, Patrick Prendergast, Bagnal (sic) Harvey, Matthew Keough, John Hay, Cornelius Grogan, ‘and other patriots who were executed on the site of this bridge, June-July 1798 as a result of their struggle for Irish freedom.’

Beauchamp Bagenal Harvey was tried, convicted and hanged on Wexford Bridge on 28 June 1798. His body was afterwards beheaded, the trunk thrown into the River Slaney and the head displayed on a spike on the courthouse. His corpse was recovered by his friends and he was buried in Mayglass.

Another plaque on the bridge reflects the balance and nuance that marked the commemorations I was part of in 1998. It recalls:

‘During and after the insurrection of 1798, Wexford Bridge was the site of many executions. Some ninety loyalist prisoners were put to death, amongst whom were Edward Turner, Magistrate; David Dalton, Thomas Canford, Samuel Atkin, Francis Plumer, William Baubier, Benjamin Sunderland, George Sparrow, John Smyth and Kenneth Mathewson. Among the sixty-five United Irishmen executed were the leaders Beauchamp Bagnal (sic) Harvey, Dr John Colclough, John Kelly, Cornelius Crogan, Patrick Prendergast, Fr Philip Roche, John Herron, Edward Fryane, Esmond Kyan, and Matthew Keugh.’

I noticed, sadly, however, that Bagenal Harvey’s name is misspelled not just once but twice on the bridge that I still think should be named after him.

‘Fuascailt’ … a sculpture by Eamonn O’Doherty of Wexford pikemen on the N25 near Barntown and Taghmon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2020)

Today, no matter what their political views are and despite the opening words of Ingram’s poem, no-one in Wexford is afraid ‘to speak of ’98.’ New monuments are still standing in every corner of the county from Bunclody and Gorey to Enniscorthy and Wexford, to Old Ross and New Ross.

As we continued our summer ‘Road Trip’ on the N25 from Ferrycarrig towards New Ross, near Barntown and Taghmon, ‘Fuascailt’ is a striking sculpture by Eamonn O’Doherty (1939-2011) by the roadside depicting a group of Wexford Pikemen from 1798. His other works include the Quincentennial Sculpture on Eyre Square in Galway; Anna Livia or the ‘Floozie in the Jacuzzi,’ moved from O’Connell Street to the Croppies’ Acre in Dublin in 2011; and the James Connolly Memorial near Liberty Hall, Dublin.

Even the description on the plinth below O’Doherty’s Pikemen recalls all who died there in battle on 30 May 1798.

On that day, the United Irishmen intercepted the reinforcements for the Wexford garrison near this place. The reinforcements were overwhelmed, and their defeat resulted in the evacuation of Wexford by government forces. The rebels were led by Thomas Cloney, colonel of Bantry battalion of United Irishmen.

But the plaque also remembers that nearby, in the Church Meadow, lie 80 men of the Royal Artillery and the Meath Militia who were killed in that battle.

No matter what one’s political views or sympathies are, there is no reason to fear to speak about 1798 in Co Wexford. And, for what it’s worth, I still think – fearlessly – that Wexford Bridge should be named after Bagenal Harvey.

The ten-week bridge … is it time Wexford Bridge was named after Beauchamp Bagenal Harvey? (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2020)

A church in Templetown that owes more to Pugin than the Knights Templar

The East End of All Saints’ Church, Templetown, Co Wexford … designed by a local architect, Michael Power, but strongly influenced by AWN Pugin’s church in Barntown (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019)

Patrick Comerford

Templetown on the Hook Peninsula takes its name from the Knights Templar who were granted large sections of land in this remote area of south-west Co Wexford shortly after the arrival of the Anglo-Normans in Ireland.

The Knights Templar were a religious, monastic order formed in 1118 to defend the Kingdom of Jerusalem and to protect Christian pilgrims during the Crusades. Their official name was the Poor Fellow-Soldiers of Christ and of the Temple of Solomon.

The Templars arrived in Ireland in September 1220, and their foundations in Ireland included the Templar church in Templetown, Co Wexford, Clontarf Castle, north of Dublin, Baldongan Castle near Skerries, and, perhaps, Askeaton in Co Limerick.

They continued to hold vast estates across Europe until King Philip IV, who was heavily in debt to the Templars accused them of heresy and sexual misconduct. Many of the Templars were arrested and Pope Clement V disbanded the order.

Like their counterparts across Europe the Templars in Ireland were ruthlessly suppressed amidst bizarre allegations between 1308 and 1310. The Templars in Ireland were arrested on 2 February 1308 and held in Dublin Castle. Their estates were seized by King Edward II, who leased them to close allies and associates.

Five inquisitors, three Dominicans and two Franciscans, arrived in Ireland in September 1309 to oversee the trial. The trial began on 6 February in Saint Patrick’s Cathedral, Dublin, and lasted four months, concluding on 6 June 1310. The historical records of the time do not show any evidence of the use of torture on the Knights Templar in Ireland.

The last Grand Master of the Knights Templar, Jacques de Molay, was burnt at the stake in 1314, on an island in the River Seine, in front of the Cathedral of Notre Dame in Paris.

The estates and property of the Knights Templar were given to the Hospitaller Order of Saint John of Jerusalem, also known as the Knights of Rhodes and later the Knights of Malta.

The West End of All Saints’ Church, Templetown, Co Wexford financed by the parish priest, Canon William Synnott (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019)

During my recent visit to New Ross and the Hook Peninsula, I missed out on the ruins of the Templar Church in Templetown. It was late in the afternoon, but I visited All Saints’ Church, the Roman Catholic parish church nearby.

The church was built through the efforts of and financed by Canon William Synnott (1834-1911), Parish Priest of Templetown (1886-1911) and Precentor of Ferns. The foundation stone was laid on 5 March 1896, and the church was blessed by James Browne, Bishop of Ferns, on 20 May 1899. It was designed by Michael Power, architect and builder, of Saint Kearns, Tintern, Co Wexford, whose other works include nearby churches in Poulfur and Duncannon.

All Saints’ Church can be compared with Saint Alphonsus’s Church, Barntown, designed by Augustus Welby Northmore Pugin (1812-1852) and built in 1844-1851.

Pugin conceived of Saint Alphonsus’s Church, Barntown, in the parish of Glynn, as a complete Catholic parish church and is his only complete expression in Ireland of the small village parish church. Some writers suggest the church in Barntown is a finer version of the simplest of all Pugin’s designs, Saint Augustine’s Church in Solihull. However, most historians say Pugin’s design for Barntown was based on Saint Michael’s Church in Longstanton, 10 km north of Cambridge .

The design of All Saints’ Church in Templetown shows Pugin’s continuing influence on the design of Roman Catholic churches in Co Wexford and the Diocese of Ferns throughout the 19th century.

Inside All Saints’ Church, Templetown, Co Wexford, restored in 1998 through the generosity of Alice Cooney (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019)

This is a six-bay double-height Catholic church, built in 1896-1898 and opened in 1899. It is built on a rectangular plan with a six-bay double-height nave opening into two six-bay single-storey lean-to side aisles.

The architectural features of this church include cut-granite coping to gables on cut-granite gabled corbel kneelers including lichen-covered cut-granite coping, cut-granite gabled corbel kneelers, a cut-granite buttressed gabled bellcote, quatrefoil windows in the clerestories, trefoil-headed lancet windows in the side aisles, an elegant pointed-arch East Window in the chancel, hood mouldings, a pointed-arch entrance door at the west front and timber boarded double doors.

Inside, there is a timber panelled choir gallery at the west end on a half-octagonal plan, a tiled central aisle, timber pews, pointed-arch arcades on cut-granite drum pillars, a white marble stepped dais at the sanctuary and a white marble high altar below the stained-glass East Window.

The elegant, pointed-arch East Window in the chancel in All Saints’ Church, Templetown (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019)

The pointed-arch braced collared timber roof sits on cut-granite beaded corbels with pointed-arch wind braced rafters. There is a stencilled ceiling, carpeted stepped daises to the side altars, timber panelled confessional boxes in the side aisles, Gothic-style timber Stations of the Cross, and ‘cathedral glass’ windows.

The church has well maintained, with the elementary form and massing surviving intact, along with substantial quantities of the original fabric.

It was renovated after the liturgical reformed introduced after Vatican II, when the sanctuary was reordered and the High Altar modified. But since then the church was tastefully restored in 1998 through the generosity of the late Miss Alice Cooney of Killoggan. It forms part of a neat self-contained group with the adjacent parochial house.

Angels above the west door of All Saints’ Church, Templetown (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019)

The nearby Church of Ireland parish church is now in ruins, has been deroofed and is little more than a shell. This three-bay, double-height single-cell Board of First Fruits church, was built in 1827-1828 a T-shaped plan with a single-bay, single-storey porch on the south side. The chancel had an elegant Gothic ‘Trinity Window.’

The church is attributed to John Semple (1801-1882) of Marlborough Street, Dublin. The tower was inscribed with the signature of Edward Lymbery of Fethard Castle and the date 1847.

Nearby too are the ivy-covered ruins of a Roman Catholic chapel built in 1794-1795 and closed in 1899 after All Saints’ Church opened. This chapel, which predated the 1798 Rising in Co Wexford, was built through the efforts of the Parish Priest, Father Anthony Broaders, who died in 1789. A monument to one of his successors, Father Edward O’Flaherty, says he built ‘three chapels, two presbyteries and two schoolhouses’ in Templetown before he died in 1835.

Inside All Saints’ Church, Templetown, Co Wexford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019)

Three more Pugin gems in Co Wexford

The Church of the Assumption, Bree (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2010)

Patrick Comerford

I spent most of the day searching out three Pugin churches in Co Wexford yesterday [Friday 22 October 2010] ... three churches I had never visited before, but three churches that are pivotal to understanding the development of the Gothic Revival in Church architecture in Victorian Ireland: the Church of the Assumption in Bree, Saint Alphonsus in Barntown, and Saint Mary’s in Tagoat.

The Church of the Assumption, Bree (1837-1840)

I arrived in Bree, south of Enniscorthy, at lunchtime, just as a funeral was ending. Had I arrived any earlier, I could not have intruded and taken photographs of the Church of the Blessed Virgin Mary, or the Church of the Assumption, which is probably the earliest Pugin church in Ireland.

The church was built by Canon Philip Devereux, thanks to the generosity of the Talbot and Power families, on land given by Colonel Henry Alcock of nearby Wilton Castle in 1837. John Hyacinth Talbot “procured” the plans from Pugin, and – if we date the church to the laying of the foundation stone in 1837 – then this is the first of Pugin’s Irish churches, although he never actually acknowledged the church as his own.

The plan for the church in Bree basically follows the same plan as Pugin’s design for the chapel of Saint Peter’s College, Wexford, and the design used for the Church of Saint James in Ramsgrange. As an early Pugin church, Bree is a simple Gothic-style building with a long, five-bay nave, with a distinct five-sided apse, both under separate roofs. The apse is decorated in mosaic by an unknown artist who is thought to have been Italian. The three stained glass windows in the apse depict the Assumption in the centre window, with Saint Aidan of Ferns on the left and Saint John the Baptist on the right.

The simple wall post and exposed truss roof was characteristic of Pugin, and this very early example of open roof timbering was once one of the main features of the building. However, it is now covered and no longer visible, and the church was changed drastically during renovations carried out in the latter part of the last century.

Still, the church in Bree remains an interesting part of Wexford’s Pugin heritage, and an important church in the light of the other churches in Ireland he designed in the following years.

Saint Alphonsus’s Church, Barntown (1844-1851)

Saint Alphonsus’s Church, Barntown, Co Wexford, is Pugin’s only complete expression in Ireland of the small village parish church (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2010)

From Bree, I headed down the west bank of the Slaney, through Killurin, to the Wexford bypass at Ferrycarrig and on to Barntown, where Saint Alphonsus’s Church was planned by Pugin as a complete Catholic parish church.

This church is Pugin’s only complete expression in Ireland of the small village parish church. Although O’Leary suggests the church is a finer version of the simplest of all Pugin’s designs, Saint Augustine’s in Solihull, it was obvious from the outside that Pugin’s design for Barntown is based on Saint Michael’s, one of two mediaeval parish churches in the village of Longstanton, 10 km north-west of Cambridge ... a church I managed to visit and photograph earlier this summer.

Saint Michael’s ... a rare example of an English church with a thatched roof ... is said to have inspired Pugin’s design of a parish church in Barntown, Co Wexford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2010)

The mediaeval church at Longstanton, which was built ca 1230, was one of the “model” churches published by the Ecclesiologist, and it was also used by Pugin as a model for Saint Andrew’s, the small Catholic church he built in 1842-1843 in Cambridge, shortly before his church in Barntown was built.

The foundation stone of the parish church in Barntown was laid in July 1844 and it was blessed by Bishop James Keating the following September. The church was built between 1844 and 1848, and the first Mass here was celebrated in 1848. The church is dedicated to Saint Alphonsus Ligouri and the Blessed Virgin Mary.

From the outside, this Gothic-style church is a simple aisled church with a western double bellcote, south porch and sacristy at the east end of the north side. However, there was a wedding in the church as I arrived. Unlike Bree, I was unable to take photographs of the interior ... but only for the moment.

Saint Mary’s Church, Tagoat (1843 to 1846)

Saint Mary’s Church, Tagoat, is the last of Pugin’s churches in Co Wexford and many regard it as his most important parish church in Ireland (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2010)

From Barntown, I bypassed Wexford Town, and headed out on the Rosslare road to tiny Tagoat, where Saint Mary’s Church is the last of Pugin’s churches in Co Wexford. Many regard Saint Mary’s as the most important of Pugin’s parish churches in Ireland, and it has been has been described as “an example of Pugin’s best work on a small church.”

Pugin’s great Irish patron, John Hyacinth Talbot, inherited Ballytrent House, the ancestral home of the Redmond banking family, when he married Ann Eliza Redmond, a 19-year-old heiress, on the day of her father’s death, 10 May 1822. Eliza died four years later in 1826, and in 1843 Talbot commissioned Pugin to design Saint Mary’s Church in Tagoat as both his parish church and as a memorial to his late wife.

Local tradition says work began on the church around 1839, but a more likely starting date may be between 1843 and 1845, although trying to date this church remains a problem. Pugin visited the site on 24 May 1845, the church opened in 1846, and the first Mass celebrated in the new church was the Funeral Mass for Canon Rowe, who died on 18 June 1846.

Saint Mary’s is a large, cruciform-plan, lancet-style Gothic church, and its large scale is more typical of those built by Pugin’s Irish followers, such as Pierce, McCarthy, Ashlin and Coleman. The church has excellent proportions, fine clear lines and careful details. Additions were later made at the north-east corner, and until recently, the exterior stonework was plastered over ... although this has been removed thankfully.

Inside the church, the nave is separated from the aisles by colonnades of Gothic arches supported on massive granite pillars. The nave and aisles join a transept with three arches opening into the sanctuary and two side chapels. This layout follows the traditional T-plan associated with earlier, traditional churches in rural and provincial Ireland.

The transepts are lit by three tall lancet windows, and long lancet windows light the side walls, with smaller windows in the clerestory. This dramatic and confident handling of light is typical of Pugin’s hand. On one side, the windows depict Saint Aidan of Ferns, Saint Patrick, Saint Brigid and Saint Lawrence; on the other side they depict the Crucifixion, the Nativity, and the Baptism of Christ and the Resurrection.

In the sanctuary gable, the East Window is a four-light Gothic window. At the west end, a triple lancet window depicts the Annunciation.

The windows in the side walls include seven modern windows by George Walsh, whose subjects include the Miraculous Draught of Fishes, the Parable of the Good Samaritan and the Parable of the Prodigal Son. A window depicting the Sacrifice of Isaac commemorates the Wexford Martyrs, who were beatified in 1992. Another window honours the church’s architect, Pugin, the only window to his memory that I know of, and there is a window that commemorates William Archer Redmond (1825-1880), father of John E. Redmond (1856-1918), leader of the Irish Parliamentary Party.

Saint Mary’s contains more original Pugin features than any of his other Irish churches, including floor tiles in the large sanctuary area produced by Henry Minton (1795-1858), wooden screens to the side chapels, stained glass by Hardman, a set of four brass altar candlesticks designed by Hardman and presented by Pugin when the church was dedicated in 1846, and a marble, brass-inlaid memorial floor slab in the sanctuary commemorating Canon Rowe, presented by Sir Thomas Esmonde, Pugin’s patron in Gorey. Another floor plaque commemorates Canon Rowe’s successor, Canon John Kavanagh, who died in 1869, and an elaborate brass plate commemorates Canon Thomas Cloney, Parish Priest of Tagoat, who died in 1895.

Pugin also designed a wooden High Altar for Tagoat Church. This Pugin altar was later moved to the Church of the Assumption and Saint Mannon in Clearistown, but its whereabouts is now unknown. Thankfully, the original altar rails and pulpit designed for Tagoat remain intact.

Back to Barntown

The church in Barntown remains a Pugin treasure ... inside and outside (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2010)

After a late lunch in Kilmore Quay, I just wondered whether I might still get inside the church in Barntown, and whether the fading light would frustrate any efforts to photograph the interior. Happily, the church was still open, and I opened entered by the south porch to find a true Pugin treasure.

Saint Alphonsus’s church is 100 ft long, 43 ft wide and from the floor to the apex of the roof it measures 45 ft. A feature of the church is the absence of a clerestory. In this, Barntown is unlike other Pugin churches of these dimensions, but here he faithfully replicates Saint Michael’s in Longstanton. The church consists of a nave and aisles with a belfry, south porch, wide alleys for processions, a distinct and deep chancel, a sacristy and Lady Chapel, etc. Although no distinction is made between the nave and the chancel on the plans, Pugin would have envisaged dividing these with a screen.

The finest remaining feature of the interior is the surviving East Window depicting the Annunciation. This window was made in Birmingham to Pugin’s design by Hardman and Co in 1848 and was presented to the church by John Hyacinth Talbot. The external stonework and solid nature of the church is striking, with Pugin once again using at least four types of local stone in a delicate, constructive polychromy.

Almost half a century passed before the church was consecrated on 12 September 1899. Since then, this Pugin church has undergone many alterations, and many parts of the interior were completely stripped of any original decoration by Pugin. From 1946 until the early 1950s, extensive renovations were carried out through the generosity of Philip Pierce, a parishioner and a member of the family associated with a famous foundry in Wexford. During this work, the screen was removed, the sanctuary, chancel and Lady Chapel were re-floored in marble, some of the original glass was replaced, a two-light window depicting the apparitions in Fatima was placed in the Lady Chapel, and the plain glass of the West Window was replaced with glass on the theme of the Assumption, which was proclaimed as a dogma in 1950, and varying accounts of Marian apparitions.

However, further renovations and decorative works were carried out in Barntown in 1998-1999. Unlike the restoration work in Saint Aidan’s Cathedral in Enniscorthy, where the interior of Saint Giles’s, Cheadle, provided inspiration for redecoration, new stencilling and decoration was commissioned, and once again this is a bright church, proud of its Pugin heritage and place for worshipping the Lord in the beauty of holiness. Essentially, the church remains structurally unaltered, retaining the spirit Pugin’s original vision for a complete Catholic parish church.

It is interesting to compare Pugin’s design in Barntown, with Saint Michael’s Church in Longstanton, near Cambridge, which is now disused, or its twin church in Philadelphia, the Church of Saint James-the-Less. Tradition says the remarkable fidelity of the church in Pennsylvania to the Gothic style was accidental: when the parish asked the Ecclesiological Society, later the Cambridge Camden Society, for a set of plans for a new church, it was inadvertently sent GG Place’s measured drawings of Saint Michael’s, and these were then followed in every detail as the church was built under the supervision of the architect John E. Carver in 1846-1848, at the same time as Barntown and Pugin’s other churches in Co Wexford were being built.

Darkness had fallen on Barntown when the sacristan arrived, eager to close the church for the night. By then I had managed to photograph the interior of another Pugin gem.

Canon Patrick Comerford is Director of Spiritual Formation, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute