Daily prayer in Lent 2026: 38, Friday 27 March 2026

‘Sticks and stones may break my bones’ … sticks and stones on the beach at Brittas Bay, Co Wicklow (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Patrick Comerford

We are coming to the end of Passion Week, the first of the last two weeks in Lent, and we are just a week away from Good Friday (3 April 2026).

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

1, reading 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.

They took up stones again to stone him (John 10: 31) … pebbles, stones and rocks on the shoreline at Foynes, Co Limerick (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

John 10: 31-40 (NRSVA):

31 The Jews took up stones again to stone him. 32 Jesus replied, ‘I have shown you many good works from the Father. For which of these are you going to stone me?’ 33 The Jews answered, ‘It is not for a good work that we are going to stone you, but for blasphemy, because you, though only a human being, are making yourself God.’ 34 Jesus answered, ‘Is it not written in your law, “I said, you are gods”? 35 If those to whom the word of God came were called “gods” – and the scripture cannot be annulled – 36 can you say that the one whom the Father has sanctified and sent into the world is blaspheming because I said, “I am God’s Son”? 37 If I am not doing the works of my Father, then do not believe me. 38 But if I do them, even though you do not believe me, believe the works, so that you may know and understand that the Father is in me and I am in the Father.’ 39 Then they tried to arrest him again, but he escaped from their hands.

40 He went away again across the Jordan to the place where John had been baptizing earlier, and he remained there.

Pebbles forming a symbol of Christian hope in the hoklakia or mosaic patterns in the courtyard in the former Church of the Annunciation, now the Yeni Cami or New Mosque, in Kaş in Turkey (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Today’s Reflection:

There is an oft-repeated children’s rhyme that is used as a defence against name-calling and a response to verbal bullying and that says, in various ways:

Sticks and stones may break my bones
But names shall never hurt me.

It has been traced back to the 1830s and 1840s, but must date from even earlier. It had spread from England and Ireland to the US in the early 1860s, when it appeared in a publication of the African Methodist Episcopal Church and in Boston, where it was attributed to a ‘little Irish girl’.

In popular music, variations of the saying have adapted in many albums and songs, including lyrics by the Who, Neil Hannon and the Divine Comedy, Madonna, Pete Doherty, Tom Waits, Rihanna, Katy Perry, Taylor Swift and Pink.

Sirach or Ecclesiasticus, which is included in the Septuagint and in some traditions, including Catholic and Orthodox Bibles, appears to offer a diametrically opposite saying: ‘The blow of a whip raises a welt, but a blow of the tongue crushes the bones’ (Sirach 28: 17).

The conflict between Jesus and the religious leaders in Jerusalem continues in the Gospel reading at the Eucharist today (John 10: 31-40).

In yesterday’s Gospel reading (John 8: 51-58), Jesus promised that ‘whoever keeps my word will never see death’ (verse 51), but ends with him being threatened with death.

His interlocutors in yesterday’s reading picked up stones to throw at Jesus (verse 59), threatening him with the very same form of execution that faced the woman who had been caught in adultery and was brought before Jesus by scribes and Pharisees in the earlier incident (John 8: 1-11), which we read about on Monday (23 March 2026).

Once again in today’s reading, his enemies want to stone Jesus to death for they continue to accuse him of blasphemy and of making himself God.

In a play on words, probably laced with irony and insider humour, Jesus quotes from Psalms, where God saying of some people, ‘You are gods’. This is a reference to the people called judges in Israel. Since they were judges of their people, taking on themselves something which belongs only to God, they were called ‘gods’ (Psalm 82: 6; see Exodus 21: 6; Deuteronomy 1: 17).

If people inspired by the word from God could be called ‘gods’, can Jesus whom the Father has consecrated and sent into the world blaspheme because he says: ‘I am God’s Son’? (verse 36).

Once more Jesus escapes death, and crosses the river to a quiet place (verse 40).

Perhaps early readers of Saint John’s Gospel would have grasped the literary device in these passages that connects stones and death, for it is Jewish custom to place pebbles and stones, rather than flowers, on graves to commemorate the dead.

We know now to expect that his death is inevitable, and we shall focus on his passion and his death, not by stoning but on the Rock of Golgotha, next week throughout Holy Week.

Pebbles on Jewish graves beside Etz Hayyim Synagogue in Chania, Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Today’s Prayers (Friday 27 March 2026):

The theme this week (22-28 March 2026) in ‘Pray With the World Church,’ the Prayer Diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), is ‘Myanmar Earthquake: One Year On’ (pp 40-41). This theme was introduced on Sunday with a programme update by the Revd Davidson Solanki, the USPG Senior Regional Manager for Asia and the Middle East.

The USPG Prayer Diary today (Friday 27 March 2026) invites us to pray:

We pray for the continued rebuilding of churches and community buildings in Myanmar. May these places remain beacons of worship, sanctuary, and resilience for their communities.

The Collect:

Most merciful God,
who by the death and resurrection of your Son Jesus Christ
delivered and saved the world:
grant that by faith in him who suffered on the cross
we may triumph in the power of his victory;
through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord,
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.

The Post Communion Prayer:

Lord Jesus Christ,
you have taught us
that what we do for the least of our brothers and sisters
we do also for you:
give us the will to be the servant of others
as you were the servant of all,
and gave up your life and died for us,
but are alive and reign, now and for ever.

Additional Collect:

Gracious Father,
you gave up your Son
out of love for the world:
lead us to ponder the mysteries of his passion,
that we may know eternal peace
through the shedding of our Saviour’s blood,
Jesus Christ our Lord.

Yesterday’s Reflections

Continued Tomorrow

Stones and pebbles at a Holocaust memorial in the Jewish Cemetery, Berlin (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

Daily prayer in Lent 2025: 38, Friday 11 April 2025

‘Sticks and stones may break my bones’ … sticks and stones on the beach at Brittas Bay, Co Wicklow (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Patrick Comerford

We are coming to the end of Passion Week, the first of the last two weeks in Lent, and we are just a week away from Good Friday (18 April 2025). The Church Calendar of the Church of England in Common Worship today remembers the life and witness of George Augustus Selwyn (1809-1878), first Bishop of New Zealand (1841-1868) and later Bishop of Lichfield (1868-1878). He died at the Bishop’s Palace in Lichfield on 11 April 1878 and gives his name to Selwyn College, Cambridge, and Selwyn House, Lichfield.

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

1, reading 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.

They took up stones again to stone him (John 10: 31) … pebbles, stones and rocks on the shoreline at Foynes, Co Limerick (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

John 10: 31-40 (NRSVA):

31 The Jews took up stones again to stone him. 32 Jesus replied, ‘I have shown you many good works from the Father. For which of these are you going to stone me?’ 33 The Jews answered, ‘It is not for a good work that we are going to stone you, but for blasphemy, because you, though only a human being, are making yourself God.’ 34 Jesus answered, ‘Is it not written in your law, “I said, you are gods”? 35 If those to whom the word of God came were called “gods” – and the scripture cannot be annulled – 36 can you say that the one whom the Father has sanctified and sent into the world is blaspheming because I said, “I am God’s Son”? 37 If I am not doing the works of my Father, then do not believe me. 38 But if I do them, even though you do not believe me, believe the works, so that you may know and understand that the Father is in me and I am in the Father.’ 39 Then they tried to arrest him again, but he escaped from their hands.

40 He went away again across the Jordan to the place where John had been baptizing earlier, and he remained there.

Pebbles forming a symbol of Christian hope in the hoklakia or mosaic patterns in the courtyard in the former Church of the Annunciation, now the Yeni Cami or New Mosque, in Kaş in Turkey (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Today’s Reflection:

There is an oft-repeated children’s rhyme that is used as a defence against name-calling and a response to verbal bullying and that says, in various ways:

Sticks and stones may break my bones
But names shall never hurt me.

It has been traced back to the 1830s and 1840s, but must date from even earlier. It had spread from England and Ireland to the US in the early 1860s, when it appeared in a publication of the African Methodist Episcopal Church and in Boston, where it was attributed to a ‘little Irish girl’.

In popular music, variations of the saying have adapted in many albums and songs, including lyrics by the Who, Neil Hannon and the Divine Comedy, Madonna, Pete Doherty, Tom Waits, Rihanna, Katy Perry, Taylor Swift and Pink.

Sirach or Ecclesiasticus, which is included in the Septuagint and in some traditions, including Catholic and Orthodox Bibles, appears to offer a diametrically opposite saying: ‘The blow of a whip raises a welt, but a blow of the tongue crushes the bones’ (Sirach 28: 17).

The conflict between Jesus and the religious leaders in Jerusalem continues in the Gospel reading at the Eucharist today (John 10: 31-40).

In yesterday’s Gospel reading (John 8: 51-58), Jesus promised that ‘whoever keeps my word will never see death’ (verse 51), but ends with him being threatened with death.

His interlocutors in yesterday’s reading picked up stones to throw at Jesus (verse 59), threatening him with the very same form of execution that faced the woman who had been caught in adultery and was brought before Jesus by scribes and Pharisees in the earlier incident (John 8: 1-11), which we read about on Monday (7 April 2025).

Once again in today’s reading, his enemies want to stone Jesus to death for they continue to accuse him of blasphemy and of making himself God.

In a play on words, probably laced with irony and insider humour, Jesus quotes from Psalms, where God saying of some people, ‘You are gods’. This is a reference to the people called judges in Israel. Since they were judges of their people, taking on themselves something which belongs only to God, they were called ‘gods’ (Psalm 82: 6; see Exodus 21: 6; Deuteronomy 1: 17).

If people inspired by the word from God could be called ‘gods’, can Jesus whom the Father has consecrated and sent into the world blaspheme because he says: ‘I am God’s Son’? (verse 36).

Once more Jesus escapes death, and crosses the river to a quiet place (verse 40).

Perhaps early readers of Saint John’s Gospel would have grasped the literary device in these passages that connects stones and death, for it is Jewish custom to place pebbles and stones, rather than flowers, on graves to commemorate the dead.

We know now to expect that his death is inevitable, and we shall focus on his passion and his death, not by stoning but on the Rock of Golgotha, next week throughout Holy Week.

Pebbles on Jewish graves beside Etz Hayyim Synagogue in Chania, Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Today’s Prayers (Friday 11 April 2025):

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 ‘Healthcare in Bangladesh.’ This theme was introduced on Sunday with a Programme Update by Suvojit Mondal, Programme Director for the Church of Bangladesh Community Healthcare Programme in Dhaka.

The USPG Prayer Diary today (Friday 11 April 2025) invites us to pray:

Pray for the Church of Bangladesh to continue being a beacon of hope, demonstrating Christ’s love and compassion through its ministry of healing and service to its communities.

The Collect:

Most merciful God,
who by the death and resurrection of your Son Jesus Christ
delivered and saved the world:
grant that by faith in him who suffered on the cross
we may triumph in the power of his victory;
through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord,
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.

The Post Communion Prayer:

Lord Jesus Christ,
you have taught us
that what we do for the least of our brothers and sisters
we do also for you:
give us the will to be the servant of others
as you were the servant of all,
and gave up your life and died for us,
but are alive and reign, now and for ever.

Additional Collect:

Gracious Father,
you gave up your Son
out of love for the world:
lead us to ponder the mysteries of his passion,
that we may know eternal peace
through the shedding of our Saviour’s blood,
Jesus Christ our Lord.

Yesterday’s Reflection

Continued Tomorrow

The effigy of Bishop George Augustus Selwyn (1809-1878) in the Lady Chapel of Lichfield Cathedral … he is commemorated on 11 April (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

Finding new hope in the ‘in-between’ days after the Ascension

The Seventh Sunday of Easter is an ‘in-between’ time in the 10 days between Ascension Day and the Day of Pentecost … confusing signs on the beach in Bettystown, Co Meath (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Patrick Comerford

Sunday 24 May 2020,

The Seventh Sunday of Easter (Easter 7),

the Sunday after Ascension Day.

9: 30 am: Morning Prayer, Castletown Church, Kilcornan, Co Limerick

11.30 am: The Parish Eucharist, Holy Trinity Church, Rathkeale, Co Limerick

The Readings: Acts 1: 6-14; Psalm 68: 1-10, 32-35; I Peter 4: 12-14, 5: 6-11; John 17: 1-11.

There is a link to the readings HERE.

‘Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking up towards heaven?’ (Acts 1: 11) … the Ascension window by Sir Edward Burne-Jones in Saint Philip’s Cathedral, Birmingham (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Christ is risen!
The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia!

This Sunday is a strange ‘in-between’ time in the calendar of the Church. On Thursday (21 May 2020), we celebrated the Day of the Ascension; next Sunday (31 May 2020), we celebrate the Day of Pentecost.

In the meantime, we are in what we might call ‘in-between’ time.

It is still the season of Easter, which lasts for 50 days from Easter Day until the Day of Pentecost. But, this morning, we are still in the Easter season, in that ‘in-between’ time, these 10 days between the Day of Ascension and the pouring out of the Holy Spirit on the Church at Pentecost.

Following the Ascension, two angels in white robes ask the disciples why they are standing around looking up into heaven. In the Gospel account of the Ascension (Luke 24: 44-53), they return to ‘Jerusalem with great joy,’ and seem to spend the following days in the Temple.

As the story unfolds in the Acts of the Apostles, the disciples, as well as the Virgin Mary and other women (see verse 14), spend their time in prayer, choosing a successor to Judas, as we are told in this morning’s first reading (Acts 1: 6-14).

Ten days after the Ascension, they are going to be filled with Holy Spirit, who comes as a gift not only to the 12 but to all who are gathered with them, including the Virgin Mary and the other women, the brothers of Jesus (verse 14), and other followers in Jerusalem – in all, about 120 people (see verse 15).

But during these 10 days, they and we are in that ‘in-between’ time, the 10 days between the Ascension and Pentecost. Their faith persists, but the promise has not yet been fulfilled.

They wait in hope. But until that promise is fulfilled they are, you might say, transfixed, believing without doing, unable to move from Jerusalem out into the wider world.

Is this the same upper room where they had gathered after the Crucifixion, behind locked doors, filled with fear, until the Risen Christ arrives and, as Saint John’s Gospel tells us, says to them: ‘Peace be with you … Peace be with you … Receive the Holy Spirit … forgive’ (see John 20: 19-23)?

Fear can transfix, can immobilise us. It leaves us without peace, without the ability to forgive, without the power to move out into, to engage with, the wider world out there.

Sometimes, our own fears leave us without peace, unwilling to forgive, unwilling to move out into the wider world.

Fear paralyses, it leaves us without peace, and as we protect ourselves against what we most fear, we decide to define those we are unwilling to forgive so that we can protect ourselves against the unknown, so that we can blame someone for the wrong for which we know we are not guilty.

In our epistle reading (I Peter 4: 12-14; 5: 6-11), Saint Peter urges his readers to accept their ordeals and trials as sharing in the sufferings of Christ.

He reminds us that our sufferings today are brief and momentary, for God has called you to his eternal glory in Christ.

The Risen Christ tells us: ‘I am with you always, to the end of the age’ (Matthew 28: 20). But too often we are caught between Ascension Day and Pentecost, waiting but not sure that the kingdom is to come, frightened in the terror and the pain of the present moment.

Feeling powerless and fearful and not knowing what to do combine to make a deadly cocktail that not only immobilises us but robs us of hope.

But, hopefully, we can also see ourselves in the nurses, the doctors, the police, the emergency responders, who respond immediately, without considering how they put themselves in further danger … the supermarket staff, the delivery drivers, the people in communities who deliver shopping, the postal workers who check on the elderly and the vulnerable, the gardai who take smiles and verbal abuse with equal stoicism.

We can see ourselves in them. And hopefully we can see the face of God in them.

And this is our Easter hope and faith.

This is the hope that we will never lose our capacity as Christians to live with the Risen Christ, listening to his desire that we should be not afraid, and that we should love one another.

This is the hope we wait for between the glory of the Ascension and the empowering gifts the Holy Spirit gives us and promises us at Pentecost.

Christ is risen!
The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia!

‘For the words that you gave to me I have given to them’ (John 17: 7) … Christ as the Great High Priest with an open Bible … an icon in the Church of Saint Spyridon in Palaiokastritsa, Corfu (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019)

John 17: 1-11 (NRSVA):

1 After Jesus had spoken these words, he looked up to heaven and said, ‘Father, the hour has come; glorify your Son so that the Son may glorify you, 2 since you have given him authority over all people, to give eternal life to all whom you have given him. 3 And this is eternal life, that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent. 4 I glorified you on earth by finishing the work that you gave me to do. 5 So now, Father, glorify me in your own presence with the glory that I had in your presence before the world existed.

6 ‘I have made your name known to those whom you gave me from the world. They were yours, and you gave them to me, and they have kept your word. 7 Now they know that everything you have given me is from you; 8 for the words that you gave to me I have given to them, and they have received them and know in truth that I came from you; and they have believed that you sent me. 9 I am asking on their behalf; I am not asking on behalf of the world, but on behalf of those whom you gave me, because they are yours. 10 All mine are yours, and yours are mine; and I have been glorified in them. 11 And now I am no longer in the world, but they are in the world, and I am coming to you. Holy Father, protect them in your name that you have given me, so that they may be one, as we are one.’

‘God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble’ (I Peter 5: 5) … street art in Waterford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019)

Liturgical Colour: White (Easter, Year A)

The Greeting (from Easter Day until Pentecost):

Christ is risen!
The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia!

Penitential Kyries:

Lord God,
you raised your Son from the dead.
Lord, have mercy.
Lord, have mercy.

Lord Jesus,
through you we are more than conquerors.
Christ, have mercy.
Christ, have mercy.

Holy Spirit,
you help us in our weakness.
Lord, have mercy.
Lord, have mercy.

The Collect of the Day:

O God the King of Glory,
you have exalted your only Son Jesus Christ
with great triumph to your kingdom in heaven:
Mercifully give us faith to know
that, as he promised,
he abides with us on earth to the end of time;
who is alive and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.

Introduction to the Peace:

The risen Christ came and stood among his disciples and said,
Peace be with you.
Then were they glad when they saw the Lord. (John 20: 19, 20).

Preface:

Above all we praise you
for the glorious resurrection of your Son
Jesus Christ our Lord,
the true paschal lamb who was sacrificed for us;
by dying he destroyed our death;
by rising he restored our life:

The Post-Communion Prayer:

Eternal Giver of love and power,
your Son Jesus Christ has sent us into all the world
to preach the gospel of his kingdom.
Confirm us in this mission,
and help us to live the good news we proclaim;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Blessing:

God the Father,
by whose glory Christ was raised from the dead,
raise you up to walk with him in the newness of his risen life:

Dismissal (from Easter Day to Pentecost):

Go in the peace of the Risen Christ. Alleluia! Alleluia!
Thanks be to God. Alleluia! Alleluia!

‘Sing to God, sing praises to his name; exalt him who rides on the clouds’ (Psalm 68: 4) … a kite above the beach at Brittas Bay, Co Wicklow (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Hymns:

431, Lord, enthroned in heavenly splendour (Opening hymn)
518, Bind us together, Lord (Gradual)
418, Here, O my Lord, I see thee face to face (Offertory)
456, Lord, you give the great commission (Post-Communion hymn)

‘For the words that you gave to me I have given to them’ (John 17: 7) … Christ as the Great High Priest with an open Bible in an icon in the Church of the Metamorphosis in Piskopiano, Crete (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

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

‘Sing to God, sing praises to his name; exalt him who rides on the clouds’ (Psalm 68: 4) … a sculpture near the beach in Bettystown, Co Meath (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

The Anglican ordinand and psychiatrist who brought Wittgenstein to Ireland

Ludwig Wittgenstein’s steps in the Great Palm House in the National Botanic Gardens, Dublin (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Patrick Comerford

For the first time ever, I visited the National Botanic Gardens in Glasnevin last summer. I wanted to see the great glass houses, but ended up being captivated by the flowers, shrubs and trees. I also fascinated by steps in the Great Palm House with a plaque saying that it was there that one of the greatest philosophers of the 20th century, Ludwig Wittgenstein (1889-1951), liked to sit and write in the late 1940s.

Wittgenstein was a Viennese-born Cambridge philosopher who had been influenced at an early stage by Tolstoy and Dostoevsky. He worked primarily in the fields of logic, the philosophy of mathematics, the philosophy of mind, and the philosophy of language.

During his lifetime, he published just one small, 75-page book, Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus (1921), one article, one book review and a children’s dictionary. His major work, Philosophical Investigations, was not published until two years after his death, yet it has become an important modern classic. Bertrand Russell said he was “the most perfect example I have ever known of genius as traditionally conceived.”

Ludwig Wittgenstein … he came to Ireland through his friendship with Con Drury

Wittgenstein’s influence reaches almost every discipline in the humanities and social sciences, and he has influenced many current Anglican theologians, including Andrew Davison and Alison Milbank. But who and what brought Wittgenstein to Ireland, and why did he spend time thinking on those steps in the Great Palm House? As I asked these questions, the story unfolded of the son of an Irish-born teacher who spent time training for ordained ministry in the Church of England but became a pioneering figure in psychiatry in Dublin and one of the closest friends of one of the greatest philosophers.

Wittgenstein first arrived in Cambridge in 1911 to study with Bertrand Russell at Trinity College. Soon after, he first visited Ireland, staying with his friend William Eccles in Coleraine.

Dr Maurice O’Connor (‘Con’) Drury … planned to become an Anglican priest, and brought Wittgenstein to Ireland (Photograph courtesy Luke Drury)

After World War I, and following the publication and translation of his Tractatus, he returned to Cambridge in 1929. He received a PhD, was appointed a lecturer in philosophy and was elected a fellow of Trinity College. That year, for the first time, he met Maurice O’Connor Drury (1907-1976), known to his family and friends as Con Drury, who became instrumental in arranging the philosopher’s many visits to Ireland in the 1930s and 1940s.

An Irish clerical family

Saint Werburgh’s Church, Dublin, where two of Con Drury’s ancestors were clergymen (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Con Drury was born on 3 July 1907 in Marlborough, Wiltshire, where his father, Henry D’Olier Drury (1849-1931), was a math teacher in a leading English public school. Henry was descended from an old Dublin family, and his ancestors included Canon Edward Drury (1672-1737), who is buried in Saint Werburgh’s Church, Dublin, and the Revd Richard Drury (1757-1827), who was ordained in the Diocese of Ferns in 1780. Henry’s father, William Barker Drury (1811-1885), was registrar of the Court of Chancery, and lived in Harcourt Street, Dublin, and Boden Park, off Scholarstown Road, Rathfarnham.

Henry studied at Queen’s College Galway and Trinity College Cambridge, before moving to Marlborough. At the age of 53, he married Anne Elizabeth Reilly (1868-1960), a direct descendant of John Reilly (1745-1804) of Scarvagh, Co Down, and MP for Blessington, Co Wicklow. Her mother was a grand-daughter of Archbishop Power le Poer Trench of Tuam.

Henry was 58 when Con was born, and when Henry retired from Marlborough two years later, the family moved to Exeter, bringing with them a portrait of Archbishop Trench. Con’s brother, Myles Drury, later worked at Exeter Cathedral as the diocesan architect.

Trinity College Cambridge … Con Drury and his father, Henry Drury, were both students there, and there Con Drury first met Ludwig Wittgenstein (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Con Drury first met Wittgenstein in 1929 at a meeting of the Moral Science Club in the rooms of the Cambridge philosopher CD Broad. Their friendship lasted for over 20 years until Wittgenstein died in Cambridge in 1951.

From theology to medicine

Westcott House, Cambridge, where Con Drury spent a year as an Anglican ordinand (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

In his childhood, Con was deeply influenced by the example of Father EC Long, an Anglo-Catholic slum priest in Exeter. When he graduated at Cambridge in 1930, he hoped to become an Anglican priest, and entered Westcott House in Cambridge as an ordinand. But when Wittgenstein realised Con’s plans he objected: “I can’t approve; no, I can’t approve. I am afraid that one day that collar would choke you.”

Wittgenstein was alarmed to hear a piano in the chapel when he visited Con Drury in Westcott House (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

In 1931, the year Henry Drury died in Exeter, Wittgenstein visited Con at Westcott House, and they sat in silence in the chapel. When suddenly someone in the gallery started playing the piano, Wittgenstein jumped up and exclaimed: “Blasphemy! A piano and the cross. Only an organ should be allowed in a church.”

Con left Westcott after a year to work in Tyneside with a club for the unemployed run by Archdeacon Leslie Hunter, who later became involved in the Jarrow March. He then worked with an unemployment scheme in Merthyr Tydfil in south Wales until Wittgenstein, the economist John Maynard Keynes and their friend Gilbert Pattison arranged to finance Drury’s medical education in Ireland.

In 1933, Con enrolled in the School of Medicine in Trinity College Dublin, and as a student lived in Chelmsford Road, Ranelagh. His brother Myles had a holiday cottage on the Co Galway side of Killary Harbour and Con invited Wittgenstein there with his friend Francis Skinner for two weeks in September 1934.

Visits to Ireland

Saint Patrick’s Hospital, Dublin, where Con Drury was a resident psychiatrist

Wittgenstein shared Easter 1935 with the Drury family in Devon, and spent a holiday with Con in Dublin that August. He stayed in the Drury family home in Exeter in 1936, and was back in Dublin from 8 February to mid-March 1938, when he considered abandoning philosophy and training for psychiatry. This visit was also a response to an invitation from the then Taoiseach, Éamon de Valera, who had been a math teacher and who hoped Wittgenstein would contribute to an academy for advanced mathematics.

During this visit, Germany annexed Austria and Wittgenstein suddenly found he was a citizen in Nazi Germany and classified as a Jew. He was baptised as Roman Catholic at birth in Vienna, but three of his grandparents were born Jews. He returned to Cambridge and began asking about becoming a British or Irish citizen.

Con Drury graduated in medicine in 1939, and worked for a few months as a GP in the Rhondda Valley in Wales. When World War II broke out, he received an emergency commission in the Royal Army Medical Corps, and was sent to Egypt. Later, he received a D-Day posting to France.

After demobilisation, Drury worked in a hospital in Taunton, Somerset. But in 1947 he returned to Dublin as the Resident Psychiatrist in Saint Patrick’s Hospital (“Swift’s Hospital”) under Professor Norman Moore. Wittgenstein visited Con in Dublin that August, and when he returned to Cambridge he resigned his professorship, planning to move to Dublin.

The Ashling Hotel, Parkgate Street, Dublin … Wittgenstein stayed there in the 1940s when it was Ross’s Hotel (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

The plaque at the Ashling Hotel recalls Wittgenstein’s time as a guest (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

He arrived back in Dublin in November, and stayed at Ross’s Hotel, now the Ashling Hotel in Parkgate Street, until 9 December, when he moved to Kilpatrick House in Red Cross, Co Wicklow, as a guest of the Kingston family. At first, Wittgenstein enjoyed life in the countryside, between the Wicklow Mountains and Brittas Bay. But by early 1948 he was complaining of indigestion, then “nervous instability,” “terrible depressions” and a bad ’flu. He could not work and probably had what we now call a nervous breakdown, and he was seen regularly at Saint Patrick’s by Dr Moore.

Kilpatrick House, Redcross, Co Wicklow … Wittgenstein stayed there as a guest of the Kingston family (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

At Kilpatrick House, Wittgenstein enjoyed walking out in the Wicklow countryside (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

After spending Easter 1948 with the Kingstons, Wittgenstein moved to the Drury cottage at Killary Harbour, where he worked hard and had few visitors. He was back in Dublin for a few days that August, and then returned to Cambridge to complete his Remarks on the Philosophy of Psychology, although it was not published until 1980.

‘Don’t stop thinking’

The plaque in the chapel of Trinity College Cambridge recalls Witthenstein’s time as a fellow and professor (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Wittgenstein returned to Dublin later that year, but feared spending winter in Connemara and again booked into Ross’s Hotel. It was a short walk to Saint Patrick’s Hospital, and the Cambridge philosopher and Dublin psychiatrist met almost daily, strolling in the Phoenix Park and the Zoo, or visiting the Botanic Gardens. Wittgenstein also socialised with Drury’s colleagues, occasionally dining with them at the Royal Irish Yacht Club in Dun Laoghaire.

Wittgenstein left Ireland for the last time on 18 June 1949. By then he was probably suffering with the prostate cancer from which he would die. By 1951, he was living in Dr Edward Bevan’s home in Cambridge. Meanwhile Con married Eileen Herbert, the matron of Saint Patrick’s. On their way back from their honeymoon in Rome, Con visited Wittgenstein in Cambridge in April 1951 Wittgenstein accompanied him to railway station, and his last words to Drury were: “Whatever becomes of you, don’t stop thinking.”

Drury was soon called back to Wittgenstein’s deathbed in Cambridge. He was unconscious, and Drury arranged for four former students in the room to pray the Office. Father Conrad Pepler, the Dominican Prior of Spode House, pronounced absolution shortly before Wittgenstein died on 28 April 1951. He was buried in the Roman Catholic cemetery in Cambridge, and is commemorated in a plaque in the Chapel in Trinity College Cambridge, where he had been a don.

Saint Edmundsbury Hospital, Lucan … the Drury family lived in the doctor’s residence in the 1950s and 1960s (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Meanwhile, Drury continued to work at Saint Patrick’s and its nursing home, Saint Edmundsbury’s, in Lucan. The Drury family, with their sons Luke and Paul, lived in the doctor’s residence at Saint Edmundsbury’s, and were regular parishioners in Saint Andrew’s, Lucan. After Con retired in 1969, the family lived at 32 Ailesbury Lawn, off Ballinteer Road. He died on Christmas Day 1976.

Paul Drury recalls his father remained a man “of deep faith in later life – but he disliked the intimacy of parish life.” While he lived in Dundrum, he attended Christ Church Cathedral on Sunday mornings. Archbishop Donald Caird once described him as “an exceptionally devout communicant.” He loved organ music and invariably would stay to listen to the organ voluntary. “He preferred Christ Church to Saint Patrick’s because it was more intimate and he disapproved of the regimental flags,” says Paul Drury.

He visited the RCB Library each week, and borrowed books on philosophy and theology. He renewed his study of Biblical Greek and read a chapter from the Greek New Testament “every night before lighting a cigar and listening to a piece of classical music – more often than not, something by Bach – on his gramophone.”

Wittgenstein would have approved, I imagine. In later life he wrote: “Bach wrote on the title page of his Orgelbuechlein, ‘To the glory of the most high God, and that my neighbour may be benefited thereby.’ That is what I would have liked to say about my work.”

The plaque to Wittgenstein at Kilpatrick House, Co Wicklow, was presented by the Austrian Embassy in 2001 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

In 1988, a plaque was unveiled at the Ashling Hotel recalling Wittgenstein’s stay at Ross’s Hotel. In 1993, President Mary Robinson unveiled a plaque at the Drury holiday cottage, now Killary Harbour Youth Hostel. The Austrian Embassy erected a plaque at Kilpatrick House in 2001 to mark the 50th anniversary of Wittgenstein’s death.

The Mill House, Grantchester, near Cambridge, where Bertrand Russell worked together and argued (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Canon Patrick Comerford lectures at the Church of Ireland Theological Institute. This essay and these photographs were first published in the February 2015 editions of the ‘Church Review’ (Dublin and Glendalough) and the ‘Diocesan Magazine’ (Cashel, Ferns and Ossory).

It was more like Samhradh than Samhain on the sands of Brittas Bay this afternoon

The beach at Brittas Bay … it was more like a late summer afternoon than the beginning of winter (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2014)

Patrick Comerford

Today is traditionally marked as All Souls’ Say [2 November], while yesterday, 1 November, was All Saints’ Day and in Ireland traditionally marked the first day of winter.

The month of November is Mí na Samhna in Irish, and Samhain marked the beginning of winter, in the same way that Imbolc (1 Feabhra or February, Lá Fhéile Bríde, or Saint Brigid’s Day), marked the beginning of Spring, Bealtaine (1 May) announced the arrival of Summer, and Lughnasa or Lúnasa on 1 August hailed the start of autumn.

The meaning of the word is linked with a festival and or assembly held on 1 November in mediaeval Ireland, but its meaning may also refer to “summer’” – from sam (summer) and fuin (end), although summer ended much earlier than this time of the year.

We are about halfway between the autumn equinox and the winter solstice. This was the time when cattle were brought back down from the summer pastures and when livestock were slaughtered for the winter.

But the cattle were still out grazing in the green fields this afternoon, there was a clear blue sky, and the countryside was basking in lights that made it look more like early autumn or late summer than the beginning of winter.

Warm sunshine at Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin, this morning (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2014)

I was the deacon at the Choral Eucharist in the Christ Church Cathedral this morning, reading the Gospel (Matthew 23: 1-12) and assisting at the administration of the Holy Communion. This morning, Canon Ken Kearon preached his last sermon as a canon of the cathedral prior to his consecration as Bishop of Limerick.

It is hard to believe that winter may have started … the view across the countryside with Greystones below this afternoon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2014)

Later, two of us headed south in the bright sunshine, and we stopped to admire the green and yellow fields, and the view across Greystones and the harbour and out to sea, before going to lunch in the Happy Pear.

It was bright enough and warm enough to sit out on the street while we had lunch al fresco, and lingered a little longer over two perfect double espressos.

Initially, we thought of going for an afternoon stroll on the beach in Greystones, but it was so warm and sunny we had second thoughts and decided instead to drive further south to Brittas Bay.

It is almost four years since I was in Brittas Bay [3 January 2011], and we had planned a walk on the beach there last Friday [31 October 2014] after visiting Kilpatrick House in search of further details about Ludwig Wittgenstein’s time in Ireland.

I imagined that during the winter months he spent at Kilpatrick House, between December 1947 and April 1948, Wittgenstein went for many walks along the sand dunes at Brittas Bay.

However, the grey clouds and the threat of rain on Friday steered us away from Brittas Bay, and instead we went for lunch at the at the Avoca Garden Café in Mount Usher Gardens near Ashford, and a stroll through the garden centre and shops.

The setting sun at Brittas Bay this afternoon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2014)

We headed south to Brittas Bay this afternoon, but the road works on the N11 at Jack White’s we almost missed the turn to the coast, and were heading towards Arklow before we found our way back again onto the coast road.

Brittas Bay is between Wicklow Town and Arklow, and on summer days it is one of the most popular beaches near Dublin for day-trippers. The beach at Brittas Bay stretches for 5 km of almost-uninterrupted white sand dunes and clean beaches, and the powdery sand and sand dunes form an Area of Scientific Interest (ASI) that is both rare and unique.

The name Brittas comes from the Old French bretesche, meaning “brattice, boarding or planking,” and refers to wooden defences associated with a motte or castle-mound of the Anglo-Norman period. Today, wooden boardwalks from the car parks to the beach are a measure to protect the 100 hectares of sand dunes, with their wildlife and plants.

The main car park was closed, but we found another one at the southern end of the beach, and used a small pathway to cross the dunes to the beach.

Two swimmers braving the water and the waves at Brittas Bay this afternoon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2014)

Down on the beach, a few families were playing with kites, there was a small number of lone stragglers, and two people – a woman in a wet suit and a man in swimming shorts – were brave enough to try swimming in the waves and the cold water.

Behind the beach, beyond the dunes, the sun was setting somewhere in the west in the Wicklow Mountains, out in the east, the wind generators were whirling away at their work on the sand banks in the sea. We walked a little north first, towards Mizen Head enjoying the clear skies and rolling waves.

Four years ago, I wrote of how Brittas Bay must have featured in countless school essays in Irish, each entitled “Cois Farraige,” and each with the opening words: “Lá brea samhraidh a bhí ann. Bhí an grian ag tainbh ...” We left reluctantly, imagining we were catching not the first bright days of Samhain but the last lingering beams of Samradh.

On the way back, we missed the signs to Jack Whites and the N11 and ended up on the northern edges of Arklow. But the traffic was light, and we were back in south Dublin before darkness had closed in.

A kite in the air above Brittas Bay this afternoon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2014)

A bank holiday at Brittas Bay

A glimpse of the sea through the sand dunes at Brittas Bay (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2011)

Patrick Comerford

Today is a bank holiday in the Republic of Ireland, to compensate for the fact that New Year’s Day fell on a Saturday this year.

The day off has stretched out the weekend and the holiday season. But it was a bright, sunny day, despite the near-freezing temperature, and so I headed off this afternoon for another beach walk, this time to Brittas Bay, which is one of the finest beaches on the East Coast of Ireland.

Brittas Bay lies south of Wicklow Town, close to Arklow, but on a day like today, with little traffic, is only a 45-minute journey from where I live in south Co Dublin.

On summer days, this is one of the most popular beaches near Dublin for day-trippers. It must have featured in countless school essays in Irish, each entitled “Cois Farraige,” and each with the opening words: “Lá brea samhraidh a bhí ann. Bhí an grian ag tainbh ...”

Brittas Bay stretches for 5km of almost-uninterrupted white sand dunes and clean beaches, and for many consecutive years the beach has been awarded the EU Blue Flag –international recognition given only to the highest quality beaches in Europe. Brittas Bay has also received Silver Starfish Awards because of its outstanding water quality.

The powdery sand and sand dune system at Brittas Bay is a designated Area of Scientific Interest (Photograph; Patrick Comerford, 2011)

The powdery sand and sand dune system is designated an Area of Scientific Interest (ASI) and is of significant ecological interest, with the dunes, which dominate the landscape, hosting a wide range of wildlife species and plants, many of them rare and unique.

The name Brittas is comes from the Old French bretesche, meaning “brattice, boarding or planking,” and refers to wooden defences associated with a motte or castle-mound of the Anglo-Norman period. Today, wooden boardwalks from the car parks to the beach are intended to protect the sand dunes and the wildlife and plants they are home to.

The dunes, which cover about 100 hectares, have been built up over countless years and are still evolving. Some parts suffer wind erosion, and others, especially where vegetation has been established, are fairly stable. In other places, new dunes are being formed. Behind the dunes is an area of fixed dunes, and beyond this area there is a marsh to the northern end.

On the most recent dunes, nearest the sea, the dominant plant is Marram Grass, which grows vigorously in mobile sand and binds the dunes with its underground stems and roots, which are up to five metres long. New dunes are forming in this way at the southern end of Brittas Bay.

The remainder of the dunes are relatively stable and common wild flowers there include Birds Foot Trefosil and Seaside Pansy, which carpet the area in a blaze of colour. They have the ability to fix nitrogen into the sand and so can grow in very poor soils.

At the back of the dunes, nearest the road, the vegetation is dominated by Bracken, Burnet Rose and patches of Gorse, which provide nest sites for birds such as Linnets. A few areas of heather survive indicating the acidic nature of the older dunes. Many exotic species such as New Zealand Flax and Sea Buckthorn, which were originally planted in gardens, have escaped into the older dunes near the road.

The sand dunes at Brittas Bay are home too to a number of plants that are rare in Ireland, including Wild Asparagus, Green-flowered Helleborine and Meadow Saxifrage. Animals living in the dunes include rabbits, foxes and hares. Common seabirds such as Herring Gull, Great Black-Backed Gull, Black-headed Gull and Cormorants are abundant along the shore.

We walked north first, towards Mizen Head enjoying the clear blue skies and the gentle roll of the waters lapping against the shore. Turning back south, the beams of the setting sun were sparkling off some of the small pools that had formed in the sand, and there were purple and pink hues in the sky.

Sand castles on the shoreline at Brittas Bay this afternoon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2011)

Dusk had not yet taken a grip on the evening, and we took the coast road back from Brittas Bay, driving through Three Mile Water, an area linked with the stories of Saint Patrick and Saint Kevin, to Wicklow Town.

On the edges of Wicklow town, we stopped briefly to climb the steep path down through Wicklow Golf Course, to a pebbly cove where a babbling stream was emptying its water into the sea. This club, founded in 1904, took an advanced stand from the very beginning, admitting women as full members from its foundation

We stopped again in Wicklow town, to pick up the papers in Earl’s and for an espresso and an Americano in the Coffee Shop on the corner of Fitzwilliam Square, looking out on the obelisk commemorating Captain Robert Halpin, a pioneer in laying telegraph cables on the seabed and a native of Wicklow Town.

By now, dark had fallen. There was no point in heading off to another beach. I was home before 6.

It was another perfect day in this New Year, and once again those beach walks made me feel positive about living with sarcoidosis.