The Transfiguration reminds us of how God sees us in God’s image and likeness

The Transfiguration … an icon in the parish church in Piskopianó in Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2017)

Patrick Comerford

Sunday 6 August 2017,

The Transfiguration of Our Lord.

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

Readings: Daniel 7: 9-10, 13-14; Psalm 97; II Peter 1: 16-19; Luke 9: 28-36.

In the name of + the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, Amen.

I wonder if the changes in the weather in the past week mean summer has come to an end, even though we have only reached the August bank holiday. Yet travel writers are talking about chaos on this the busiest weekend for European airports handling tourists and package holidays.

In some airports, intensified passport controls mean that there have been three and four-hour queues and delays in some airports for families setting off on their holidays, and for families returning from their holidays.

If the sun is shining in the rest of Europe, then these queues and these delays must have taken the shine off many a holiday.

At airports this summer, I have noticed how we find ourselves stuck in three moments in time: coming from somewhere in the past, either from a holiday or getting away from work; on our way to the future, that holiday or back to work; and in that moment in chaos where we find ourselves in a present filled with angst –am I going to get away, am I going to be stuck here on the ground, am I going to get back?

Whether you see July or August as the appropriate or traditional month for summer holidays, this weekend acts as the bridge weekend. Maybe later today or tomorrow I may see for myself how crowded are the beaches at Ballybunion or Kilkee – and how crowded the roads are – as people try to enjoy the main holiday weekend of this summer.

The Feast of the Transfiguration [6 August] comes not just in the middle of the holiday season, but in the middle of what the Church Calendar knows as Ordinary Time. In Ordinary Time, that long time after Pentecost, we are learning to keep our feet on the ground, to know what it is to be the Church in the world, to be putting the joys of our faith into practice.

The Transfiguration of Christ is the fulfilment of all the Epiphany and Theophany stories. We could say the Transfiguration is the high point in Christ’s public life, just as his Baptism is its starting point, and his Ascension is its end. As the late Archbishop Michael Ramsey has written, ‘The Transfiguration stands as a gateway to the saving events of the Gospel.’

The Ancient of Days (Ο Παλαιός των Ημερών) … a fresco in the Parish Church in Piskopianó in Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2017)

In today’s worldly ways, in our culture today, we may find it difficult to come to terms culturally with apocalyptic visions, and think they are only for people who have their heads in the clouds. But this morning’s Old Testament reading (Daniel 7: 9-10, 13-14) and our Gospel story (Luke 9: 28-36) offer two visions that pull us in different directions.

The Prophet Daniel is caught up in an experience that is very much in the present, but that looks back to the past, and yet is full of promise for the future.

In his present predicament, Daniel has a vision of the Ancient One, the Ancient of Days (Ο Παλαιός των Ημερών). Most of the Eastern Church Fathers who comment on this passage interpret this figure as a revelation of the Son before his Incarnation.

Eastern Christian art sometimes portrays Christ as an old man, the Ancient of Days, to show symbolically that he existed from all eternity, that Christ is pre-eternal with the Father and the Holy Spirit.

In experiencing the Divine presence in the present, Daniel looks back to the past with the title the Ancient One or the Ancient of Days (verse 9). But he also looks forward to the future, when Christ is given dominion that is everlasting, that shall not pass away, that shall never be destroyed (verse 14).

In a similar way, the Transfiguration is a moment that brings the experience of the past and the promise of the future together in the moment of the present.

I saw this recently in two icons of the Transfiguration in two different places.

I was visiting a new church built in a village in the mountains above the tourist resorts in Crete. There I was shown an icon of the Transfiguration presented to that Church in 2007, shortly after it opened ten years ago.

A few weeks earlier, I was invited to open the summer exhibition in Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin, of icons by Adrienne Lord. The poster for this exhibition, and one of the principal exhibits, is an icon of the Transfiguration.

In both icons, we see on the left, Christ leading the three disciples, Peter, James and John, up the mountain; in the centre, we see these three disciples stumbling and falling as they witness and experience the Transfiguration; and then, to the right, Christ is depicted leading these three back down the side of the mountain.

In other words, we are invited to see the Transfiguration not as a static moment but as a dynamic event. It is a living event in which we are invited to move from all in the past that weighs us down, to experience the full life that Christ offers us today, and to bring this into how we live our lives as Disciples in the future, a future that begins here and now.

The Transfiguration is both an event and a process. The original Greek word for Transfiguration in the Gospels is μεταμόρφωσις (metamorphosis), which means ‘to progress from one state of being to another.’ Consider the metamorphosis of the chrysalis into the butterfly. Saint Paul uses the same word (μεταμόρφωσις) when he describes how the Christian is to be transfigured, transformed, into the image of Christ (II Corinthians 3: 18).

This metamorphosis invites us into the event of becoming what we have been created to be. This is what Orthodox writers call deification. Transfiguration is a profound change, by God, in Christ, through the Spirit. And so, the Transfiguration reveals to us our ultimate destiny as Christians, the ultimate destiny of all people and all creation – to be transformed and glorified by the majestic splendour of God himself.

The Transfiguration points to Christ’s great and glorious Second Coming and the fulfilment of the Kingdom of God, when all of creation shall be transfigured and filled with light.

According to Saint Gregory Palamas, the light of the Transfiguration ‘is not something that comes to be and then vanishes.’ It not only prefigures the eternal blessedness that all Christians look forward to, but also the Kingdom of God already revealed, realised and come.

In a lecture in Cambridge some years ago [2011], Metropolitan Kallistos [Ware], the pre-eminent Orthodox theologian in England, spoke of the Transfiguration as a disclosure not only of what God is but of what we are. The Transfiguration looks back to the beginning, but also looks forward to the end, to the final glory of Christ’s second coming, because through the incarnation Christ raises our human nature to a new level, opens new possibilities.

The Incarnation is a new beginning for the human race, and in the Transfiguration we see not only our human nature at the beginning, but as it can be in and through Christ at the end, he told us.

But with the Transfiguration comes the invitation to bear the cross with Christ. Peter, James and John are with Christ on Mount Tabor, and they are with him in Gethsemane. We must understand the Passion of Christ and the Transfiguration in the light of each other, not as two separate mysteries, but aspects of the one single mystery. Mount Tabor and Mount Calvary go together; and glory and suffering go together.

If we are to become part of the Transfiguration, we cannot leave our cross behind. If we are to bring the secular, fallen world into the glory of Christ, that has to be through self-emptying (κένωσις, kenosis), cross-bearing and suffering. There is no answer to secularism that does not take account of the Cross, as well as taking account of the Transfiguration and the Resurrection.

The Transfiguration provides a guideline for confronting the secular world, he said. And Metropolitan Kalistos reminded us of the story from Leo Tolstoy, Three Questions. The central figure is set a task of answering three questions:

What is the most important time?

The most important time is now, the past is gone, and the future does not exist yet.

Who is the most important person?

The person who is with you at this very instant.

What is the most important task?

‘This task is, to do him good, because for that purpose alone was man sent into this life!’

The light that shone from Christ on the mountaintop is not a physical and created light, but an eternal and uncreated light, a divine light, the light of the Godhead, the light of the Holy Trinity.

The experience on Mount Tabor confirms Saint Peter’s confession of faith which reveals Christ as the Son of the Living God. Yet Christ remains fully human as ever he was, as fully human as you or me, and his humanity is not abolished. But the Godhead shines through his body and from it.

In Christ dwells all the fullness of the Godhead. But at other points in his life, the glory is hidden beneath the veil of his flesh. What we see in Christ on Mount Tabor is human nature, our human nature, taken up into God and filled with the light of God. ‘So, this should be our attitude to the secular world,’ Metropolitan Kallistos said.

Or, as the Revd Dr Kenneth Leech (1939-2015) once said: ‘Transfiguration can and does occur ‘just around the corner,’ occurs in the midst of perplexity, imperfection, and disastrous misunderstanding.’

Metropolitan Kallistos spoke that day of the Transfiguration as a disclosure not only of what God is but of what we are. The Transfiguration looks back to the beginning, but also looks forward to the end, opening new possibilities.

The Transfiguration shows us what we can be in and through Christ, he told us.

In secular life, there is a temptation to accept our human nature as it is now. But the Transfiguration of Christ offers the opportunity to look at ourselves not only as we are now, but take stock of what happened in the past that made us so, and to grasp the promise of what we can be in the future.

The Transfiguration is not just an Epiphany or a Theophany moment for Christ, with Peter, James and John as onlookers. The Transfiguration reminds us of how God sees us in God’s own image and likeness, sees us for who we were, who we are and who we are going to be, no matter how others see us, no matter how others dismiss us.

The Transfiguration is a challenge to remember always that we are made in the image and likeness of God. And, no matter what others say about you, how others judge you, how others gossip or talk about you, how others treat you, God sees your potential, God sees in you God’s own image and likeness, God knows you are beautiful inside and loves you, loves you for ever, as though you are God’s only child. You are his beloved child in whom he is well pleased.

Amen.

(Revd Canon Professor) Patrick Comerford is Priest-in-Charge, the Rathkeale and Kilnaughtin Group of Parishes. This sermon was prepared for Sunday 6 August 2017.

The Transfiguration … an icon by Adrienne Lord in the summer exhibition in Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2017)

Collect:

Father in heaven,
whose Son Jesus Christ was wonderfully transfigured
before chosen witnesses upon the holy mountain,
and spoke of the exodus he would accomplish at Jerusalem:
Give us strength so to hear his voice and bear our cross in this world,
that in the world to come we may see him as he is;
where he is alive and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.

Luke 9: 28-36

28 Ἐγένετο δὲ μετὰ τοὺς λόγους τούτους ὡσεὶ ἡμέραι ὀκτὼ [καὶ] παραλαβὼν Πέτρον καὶ Ἰωάννην καὶ Ἰάκωβον ἀνέβη εἰς τὸ ὄρος προσεύξασθαι. 29 καὶ ἐγένετο ἐν τῷ προσεύχεσθαι αὐτὸν τὸ εἶδος τοῦ προσώπου αὐτοῦ ἕτερον καὶ ὁ ἱματισμὸς αὐτοῦ λευκὸς ἐξαστράπτων. 30 καὶ ἰδοὺ ἄνδρες δύο συνελάλουν αὐτῷ, οἵτινες ἦσαν Μωϋσῆς καὶ Ἠλίας, 31 οἳ ὀφθέντες ἐν δόξῃ ἔλεγον τὴν ἔξοδον αὐτοῦ, ἣν ἤμελλεν πληροῦν ἐν Ἰερουσαλήμ. 32 ὁ δὲ Πέτρος καὶ οἱ σὺν αὐτῷ ἦσαν βεβαρημένοι ὕπνῳ: διαγρηγορήσαντες δὲ εἶδον τὴν δόξαν αὐτοῦ καὶ τοὺς δύο ἄνδρας τοὺς συνεστῶτας αὐτῷ. 33 καὶ ἐγένετο ἐν τῷ διαχωρίζεσθαι αὐτοὺς ἀπ' αὐτοῦ εἶπεν ὁ Πέτρος πρὸς τὸν Ἰησοῦν, Ἐπιστάτα, καλόν ἐστιν ἡμᾶς ὧδε εἶναι, καὶ ποιήσωμεν σκηνὰς τρεῖς, μίαν σοὶ καὶ μίαν Μωϋσεῖ καὶ μίαν Ἠλίᾳ, μὴ εἰδὼς ὃ λέγει. 34 ταῦτα δὲ αὐτοῦ λέγοντος ἐγένετο νεφέλη καὶ ἐπεσκίαζεν αὐτούς: ἐφοβήθησαν δὲ ἐν τῷ εἰσελθεῖν αὐτοὺς εἰς τὴν νεφέλην. 35 καὶ φωνὴ ἐγένετο ἐκ τῆς νεφέλης λέγουσα, Οὗτός ἐστιν ὁ υἱός μου ὁ ἐκλελεγμένος, αὐτοῦ ἀκούετε. 36 καὶ ἐν τῷ γενέσθαι τὴν φωνὴν εὑρέθη Ἰησοῦς μόνος. καὶ αὐτοὶ ἐσίγησαν καὶ οὐδενὶ ἀπήγγειλαν ἐν ἐκείναις ταῖς ἡμέραις οὐδὲν ὧν ἑώρακαν.

28 Now about eight days after these sayings Jesus took with him Peter and John and James, and went up on the mountain to pray. 29 And while he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white. 30 Suddenly they saw two men, Moses and Elijah, talking to him. 31 They appeared in glory and were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem. 32 Now Peter and his companions were weighed down with sleep; but since they had stayed awake, they saw his glory and the two men who stood with him. 33 Just as they were leaving him, Peter said to Jesus, ‘Master, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah’ – not knowing what he said. 34 While he was saying this, a cloud came and overshadowed them; and they were terrified as they entered the cloud. 35 Then from the cloud came a voice that said, ‘This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!’ 36 When the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. And they kept silent and in those days told no one any of the things they had seen.

The Transfiguration stands as a gateway to the saving events of the Gospel’

The Transfiguration … an icon by Adrienne Lord in the summer exhibition in Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2017)

Patrick Comerford

Sunday 6 August 2017,

The Transfiguration of Our Lord.

9.30 a.m.: Saint Mary’s Church, Askeation, Co Limerick, the Parish Eucharist.

Readings: Daniel 7: 9-10, 13-14; Psalm 97; II Peter 1: 16-19; Luke 9: 28-36.

In the name of + the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, Amen.

I wonder if the changes in the weather in the past week mean summer has come to an end, even though we have only reached the August bank holiday. Yet travel writers are talking about chaos on this the busiest weekend for European airports handling tourists and package holidays.

In some airports, intensified passport controls mean that there have been three and four-hour queues and delays in some airports for families setting off on their holidays, and for families returning from their holidays.

If the sun is shining in the rest of Europe, then these queues and these delays must have taken the shine off many a holiday.

At airports this summer, I have noticed how we find ourselves stuck in three moments in time: coming from somewhere in the past, either from a holiday or getting away from work; on our way to the future, that holiday or back to work; and in that moment in chaos where we find ourselves in a present filled with angst –am I going to get away, am I going to be stuck here on the ground, am I going to get back?

Whether you see July or August as the appropriate or traditional month for summer holidays, this weekend acts as the bridge weekend. Maybe later today or tomorrow I may see for myself how crowded are the beaches at Ballybunion or Kilkee – and how crowded the roads are – as people try to enjoy the main holiday weekend of this summer.

The Feast of the Transfiguration [6 August] comes not just in the middle of the holiday season, but in the middle of what the Church Calendar knows as Ordinary Time. In Ordinary Time, that long time after Pentecost, we are learning to keep our feet on the ground, to know what it is to be the Church in the world, to be putting the joys of our faith into practice.

The Transfiguration of Christ is the fulfilment of all the Epiphany and Theophany stories. We could say the Transfiguration is the high point in Christ’s public life, just as his Baptism is its starting point, and his Ascension is its end. As the late Archbishop Michael Ramsey has written, ‘The Transfiguration stands as a gateway to the saving events of the Gospel.’

The Ancient of Days (Ο Παλαιός των Ημερών) … a fresco in the Parish Church in Piskopianó in Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2017)

In today’s worldly ways, in our culture today, we may find it difficult to come to terms culturally with apocalyptic visions, and think they are only for people who have their heads in the clouds. But this morning’s Old Testament reading (Daniel 7: 9-10, 13-14) and our Gospel story (Luke 9: 28-36) offer two visions that pull us in different directions.

The Prophet Daniel is caught up in an experience that is very much in the present, but that looks back to the past, and yet is full of promise for the future.

In his present predicament, Daniel has a vision of the Ancient One, the Ancient of Days (Ο Παλαιός των Ημερών). Most of the Eastern Church Fathers who comment on this passage interpret this figure as a revelation of the Son before his Incarnation.

Eastern Christian art sometimes portrays Christ as an old man, the Ancient of Days, to show symbolically that he existed from all eternity, that Christ is pre-eternal with the Father and the Holy Spirit.

In experiencing the Divine presence in the present, Daniel looks back to the past with the title the Ancient One or the Ancient of Days (verse 9). But he also looks forward to the future, when Christ is given dominion that is everlasting, that shall not pass away, that shall never be destroyed (verse 14).

In a similar way, the Transfiguration is a moment that brings the experience of the past and the promise of the future together in the moment of the present.

I saw this recently in two icons of the Transfiguration in two different places.

I was visiting a new church built in a village in the mountains above the tourist resorts in Crete. There I was shown an icon of the Transfiguration presented to that Church in 2007, shortly after it opened ten years ago.

A few weeks earlier, I was invited to open the summer exhibition in Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin, of icons by Adrienne Lord. The poster for this exhibition, and one of the principal exhibits, is an icon of the Transfiguration.

In both icons, we see on the left, Christ leading the three disciples, Peter, James and John, up the mountain; in the centre, we see these three disciples stumbling and falling as they witness and experience the Transfiguration; and then, to the right, Christ is depicted leading these three back down the side of the mountain.

In other words, we are invited to see the Transfiguration not as a static moment but as a dynamic event. It is a living event in which we are invited to move from all in the past that weighs us down, to experience the full life that Christ offers us today, and to bring this into how we live our lives as Disciples in the future, a future that begins here and now.

The Transfiguration is both an event and a process. The original Greek word for Transfiguration in the Gospels is μεταμόρφωσις (metamorphosis), which means ‘to progress from one state of being to another.’ Consider the metamorphosis of the chrysalis into the butterfly. Saint Paul uses the same word (μεταμόρφωσις) when he describes how the Christian is to be transfigured, transformed, into the image of Christ (II Corinthians 3: 18).

This metamorphosis invites us into the event of becoming what we have been created to be. This is what Orthodox writers call deification. Transfiguration is a profound change, by God, in Christ, through the Spirit. And so, the Transfiguration reveals to us our ultimate destiny as Christians, the ultimate destiny of all people and all creation – to be transformed and glorified by the majestic splendour of God himself.

The Transfiguration points to Christ’s great and glorious Second Coming and the fulfilment of the Kingdom of God, when all of creation shall be transfigured and filled with light.

According to Saint Gregory Palamas, the light of the Transfiguration ‘is not something that comes to be and then vanishes.’ It not only prefigures the eternal blessedness that all Christians look forward to, but also the Kingdom of God already revealed, realised and come.

In a lecture in Cambridge some years ago [2011], Metropolitan Kallistos [Ware], the pre-eminent Orthodox theologian in England, spoke of the Transfiguration as a disclosure not only of what God is but of what we are. The Transfiguration looks back to the beginning, but also looks forward to the end, to the final glory of Christ’s second coming, because through the incarnation Christ raises our human nature to a new level, opens new possibilities.

The Incarnation is a new beginning for the human race, and in the Transfiguration we see not only our human nature at the beginning, but as it can be in and through Christ at the end, he told us.

But with the Transfiguration comes the invitation to bear the cross with Christ. Peter, James and John are with Christ on Mount Tabor, and they are with him in Gethsemane. We must understand the Passion of Christ and the Transfiguration in the light of each other, not as two separate mysteries, but aspects of the one single mystery. Mount Tabor and Mount Calvary go together; and glory and suffering go together.

If we are to become part of the Transfiguration, we cannot leave our cross behind. If we are to bring the secular, fallen world into the glory of Christ, that has to be through self-emptying (κένωσις, kenosis), cross-bearing and suffering. There is no answer to secularism that does not take account of the Cross, as well as taking account of the Transfiguration and the Resurrection.

The Transfiguration provides a guideline for confronting the secular world, he said. And Metropolitan Kalistos reminded us of the story from Leo Tolstoy, Three Questions. The central figure is set a task of answering three questions:

What is the most important time?

The most important time is now, the past is gone, and the future does not exist yet.

Who is the most important person?

The person who is with you at this very instant.

What is the most important task?

‘This task is, to do him good, because for that purpose alone was man sent into this life!’

The light that shone from Christ on the mountaintop is not a physical and created light, but an eternal and uncreated light, a divine light, the light of the Godhead, the light of the Holy Trinity.

The experience on Mount Tabor confirms Saint Peter’s confession of faith which reveals Christ as the Son of the Living God. Yet Christ remains fully human as ever he was, as fully human as you or me, and his humanity is not abolished. But the Godhead shines through his body and from it.

In Christ dwells all the fullness of the Godhead. But at other points in his life, the glory is hidden beneath the veil of his flesh. What we see in Christ on Mount Tabor is human nature, our human nature, taken up into God and filled with the light of God. ‘So, this should be our attitude to the secular world,’ Metropolitan Kallistos said.

Or, as the Revd Dr Kenneth Leech (1939-2015) once said: ‘Transfiguration can and does occur ‘just around the corner,’ occurs in the midst of perplexity, imperfection, and disastrous misunderstanding.’

Metropolitan Kallistos spoke that day of the Transfiguration as a disclosure not only of what God is but of what we are. The Transfiguration looks back to the beginning, but also looks forward to the end, opening new possibilities.

The Transfiguration shows us what we can be in and through Christ, he told us.

In secular life, there is a temptation to accept our human nature as it is now. But the Transfiguration of Christ offers the opportunity to look at ourselves not only as we are now, but take stock of what happened in the past that made us so, and to grasp the promise of what we can be in the future.

The Transfiguration is not just an Epiphany or a Theophany moment for Christ, with Peter, James and John as onlookers. The Transfiguration reminds us of how God sees us in God’s own image and likeness, sees us for who we were, who we are and who we are going to be, no matter how others see us, no matter how others dismiss us.

The Transfiguration is a challenge to remember always that we are made in the image and likeness of God. And, no matter what others say about you, how others judge you, how others gossip or talk about you, how others treat you, God sees your potential, God sees in you God’s own image and likeness, God knows you are beautiful inside and loves you, loves you for ever, as though you are God’s only child. You are his beloved child in whom he is well pleased.

Amen.

(Revd Canon Professor) Patrick Comerford is Priest-in-Charge, the Rathkeale and Kilnaughtin Group of Parishes. This sermon was prepared for Sunday 6 August 2017.

The Transfiguration … an icon in the parish church in Piskopianó in Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2017)

Collect:

Father in heaven,
whose Son Jesus Christ was wonderfully transfigured
before chosen witnesses upon the holy mountain,
and spoke of the exodus he would accomplish at Jerusalem:
Give us strength so to hear his voice and bear our cross in this world,
that in the world to come we may see him as he is;
where he is alive and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.

Post Communion Prayer:

Holy God,
we see your glory in the face of Jesus Christ.
May we who are partakers at his table
reflect his life in word and deed,
that all the world may know his power to change and save.
This we ask through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Luke 9: 28-36

28 Ἐγένετο δὲ μετὰ τοὺς λόγους τούτους ὡσεὶ ἡμέραι ὀκτὼ [καὶ] παραλαβὼν Πέτρον καὶ Ἰωάννην καὶ Ἰάκωβον ἀνέβη εἰς τὸ ὄρος προσεύξασθαι. 29 καὶ ἐγένετο ἐν τῷ προσεύχεσθαι αὐτὸν τὸ εἶδος τοῦ προσώπου αὐτοῦ ἕτερον καὶ ὁ ἱματισμὸς αὐτοῦ λευκὸς ἐξαστράπτων. 30 καὶ ἰδοὺ ἄνδρες δύο συνελάλουν αὐτῷ, οἵτινες ἦσαν Μωϋσῆς καὶ Ἠλίας, 31 οἳ ὀφθέντες ἐν δόξῃ ἔλεγον τὴν ἔξοδον αὐτοῦ, ἣν ἤμελλεν πληροῦν ἐν Ἰερουσαλήμ. 32 ὁ δὲ Πέτρος καὶ οἱ σὺν αὐτῷ ἦσαν βεβαρημένοι ὕπνῳ: διαγρηγορήσαντες δὲ εἶδον τὴν δόξαν αὐτοῦ καὶ τοὺς δύο ἄνδρας τοὺς συνεστῶτας αὐτῷ. 33 καὶ ἐγένετο ἐν τῷ διαχωρίζεσθαι αὐτοὺς ἀπ' αὐτοῦ εἶπεν ὁ Πέτρος πρὸς τὸν Ἰησοῦν, Ἐπιστάτα, καλόν ἐστιν ἡμᾶς ὧδε εἶναι, καὶ ποιήσωμεν σκηνὰς τρεῖς, μίαν σοὶ καὶ μίαν Μωϋσεῖ καὶ μίαν Ἠλίᾳ, μὴ εἰδὼς ὃ λέγει. 34 ταῦτα δὲ αὐτοῦ λέγοντος ἐγένετο νεφέλη καὶ ἐπεσκίαζεν αὐτούς: ἐφοβήθησαν δὲ ἐν τῷ εἰσελθεῖν αὐτοὺς εἰς τὴν νεφέλην. 35 καὶ φωνὴ ἐγένετο ἐκ τῆς νεφέλης λέγουσα, Οὗτός ἐστιν ὁ υἱός μου ὁ ἐκλελεγμένος, αὐτοῦ ἀκούετε. 36 καὶ ἐν τῷ γενέσθαι τὴν φωνὴν εὑρέθη Ἰησοῦς μόνος. καὶ αὐτοὶ ἐσίγησαν καὶ οὐδενὶ ἀπήγγειλαν ἐν ἐκείναις ταῖς ἡμέραις οὐδὲν ὧν ἑώρακαν.

28 Now about eight days after these sayings Jesus took with him Peter and John and James, and went up on the mountain to pray. 29 And while he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white. 30 Suddenly they saw two men, Moses and Elijah, talking to him. 31 They appeared in glory and were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem. 32 Now Peter and his companions were weighed down with sleep; but since they had stayed awake, they saw his glory and the two men who stood with him. 33 Just as they were leaving him, Peter said to Jesus, ‘Master, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah’ – not knowing what he said. 34 While he was saying this, a cloud came and overshadowed them; and they were terrified as they entered the cloud. 35 Then from the cloud came a voice that said, ‘This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!’ 36 When the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. And they kept silent and in those days told no one any of the things they had seen.

John Hughes, Dean of Jesus College, dies in car crash near Cambridge

John Hughes, Dean of Chapel at Jesus College, Cambridge, died in a car crash on Monday evening

Patrick Comerford

I have been saddened tonight to learn of the death of the Dean of chapel at Jesus College, Cambridge, the Rev Dr John Hughes, who was driving his car when it was involved in a crash near Melbourn, outside Cambridge, late yesterday [Sunday, 29 June 2014].

I first met Dr Hughes (35) in Cambridge three years ago when he lectured in Sidney Sussex College in 2011 as part of the summer school programme organised by the Institute for Orthodox Christian Studies. He also lectured in philosophy, ethics and social thought in the Faculty of Divinity in Cambridge.

The Master of Jesus College, Professor Ian White, said: “The loss of John Hughes is acutely felt as the life of the college was greatly enriched by him. A former undergraduate of the college, he was both an outstanding academic who inspired the students he taught, and a faithful priest and pastor who touched profoundly all those with whom he came into contact. He will be deeply missed.”

Dr Hughes’s car, which had been travelling northbound, was thought to have been badly damaged by fire immediately after the crash. A passenger in his car, a 36-year-old woman from Cambridge, suffered serious but not life-threatening injuries. A second person, a 22-year-old man from Cambridge, had minor injuries.

The only person in the other car, a 67-year-old man, has suffered slight injuries.

Among those who have been paying tribute to Dr Hughes this evening are the MP for Cambridge, Dr Julian Huppert, who said: “I had the great pleasure of knowing John for many years, and enjoying a number of holidays with him. He was an incredibly thoughtful and caring person, and still managed to be great fun.”

He added: “Many of us watched how well he was doing in the Church, and expected him to rise even higher. Now alas we will never know. My heart goes out to his family and friends, and to those who worked with him at Jesus College and Exeter. He is a great loss.”

Tributes are also flooding in to Dr Hughes on his Facebook page and to the Facebook page of Jesus College.

Jana Howlett says: “John was a born pastor: enquiring, understanding, compassionate. He communicated this, as well as his enormous enjoyment of life, to all who met him. This is such a shock to all of us who knew him and worked with him.”

Tom Bradshaw says: “The premature death of a person as kind, thoughtful, intelligent, modest and warm as John is hugely sad and I am deeply shocked.”

John John was a student at Westcott House from 2001 to 2005. During that time he completed his PhD at Emmanuel College, Cambridge. After studying theology in Cambridge under Professor Janet Soskice and in Oxford under Professor Oliver O’Donovan, he completed his PhD on ‘Theologies of Work’ with Dr Catherine Pickstock and Dr Jeremy Morris, published as The End of Work (Blackwell: 2007). He became a curate in the Diocese of Exeter on leaving Westcott, and he returned to Cambridge in 2009, first as Chaplain in Jesus College and then as Dean of Chapel.

He taught philosophy and ethics, with a particular interest in aesthetics and political thought. He published a paper on the Russian theologian Sergei Bulgakov in Sobornost, and he contributed a chapter in a recent volume on the Crisis of Global Capitalism. He was also working on a project on the role of divine ideas in the doctrine of creation.

At the summer school in Sidney Sussex College in 2011, he said the global financial crisis has brought about a questioning of dominant neo-liberalism, and has raised theological questions about the ultimate ends of the economy. He was speaking on the topic: “Beyond the Secular Market: Christian Social Teaching and the Economic Crisis.”

Dr Hughes has beenpart of the Radical Orthodoxy movement, which is rooted in the Cambridge theological tradition, and provides a critique of the violence of secular social theories. Its main figures include John Milbank, Catherine Pickstock and Graham Ward.

Dr Hughes argued that morning that the free market has long been bound up with secularism, and he set out how Christian theology has responded to this, arguing that the markets need morals.

The market was once seen as the answer to everything and, until the recent crisis, the market was untouchable and went unquestioned. But the crisis has seen a widespread rejection of the myth of a morally neutral free market and of the neoliberal utilitarian fantasy.

Since 2008-2009, it has been recognised that the market is not an end in itself, and a new consensus has emerged, he told us.

Prior to the 2009 summit, Gordon Brown spoke in Saint Paul’s Cathedral, London, about a society that is free but not laissez faire, pointing out that markets cannot self-regulate but can self-destruct. About the same time, David Cameron had spoken in Davos in 2009 about markets without morality, and capitalism without a conscience, saying the markets are a means to an end and not an end in themselves. Cameron had argued that we need to shape capitalism to suit needs of society.

Looking at the significance of this language, Dr Hughes said the politics of virtue may be on the rise, and that questions that ask what the market is for are quasi-theological questions.

The market is fundamentally cultural, therefore we did not have to end up here. The present crisis was not a natural happening, but was due to specific, ideological decisions, he said.

The tower in the chapel in Jesus College, Cambridge ... the Revd Dr John Hughes of Jesus College died in a car crash near Cambridge this evening (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Corrected: 2 July 2014, with additional details.

Turning a ‘mark of failure’ into a ‘sign of new life’

Westcott House, Cambridge ... around the corner from Sidney Sussex College (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Patrick Comerford

Cambridge has two Anglican theological colleges for training ordinands – Westcott House and Ridley Hall. Although not part of the University of Cambridge, both halls have close ties with the university and students receive their degrees through the university Faculty of Divinity or from Anglia Ruskin University.

During the week, I visited Westcott House and Ridley Hall. Westcott is around the corner from Sidney Sussex College, in Jesus Lane, close to Wesley House and Jesus College. Like the Institute for Orthodox Christian Studies, based in Wesley House, both Westcott and Ridley are members of the Cambridge Theological Federation.

Westcott began as the Cambridge Clergy Training School in 1881, founded by Bishop Brooke Foss Westcott (1925-1901) while he was the Regius Professor of Divinity at the University of Cambridge, and it was renamed Westcott House in his honour in 1901. Ridley Hall was also founded in 1881, and was named in memory of Nicholas Ridley, the 16th century Reformation martyr.

Ridley Hall, Cambridge, founded in 1881 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Ridley Hall, which has an evangelical ethos, is across Silver Street Bridge on Sidgwick Avenue on the west side of the River Cam. Ridley alumni include the former Archbishop of Dublin, Dr John Neill, and the current principal, the Revd Canon Andrew Norman, succeeded Dr Christopher Cocksworth who became Bishop of Coventry three years ago.

I was particularly interested in paying a return visit to Westcott House, where a former student at the Church of Ireland Theological Institute, the Revd Christopher Woods, moves there in a few weeks time as acting chaplain. Westcott House prepares men and women for ordination, provides pathways for theological educators and pioneer ministers, and offers continuing education resources and sabbatical opportunities for clergy and laity.

Uncluttered simplicity

The interior of the chapel in Westcott House is marked by its uncluttered simplicity (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

The chapel at Westcott is at the heart of the community life. Its uncluttered simplicity provides ideal sacred space for a range of services from sung high mass to said Morning Prayer, from adoration of the Blessed Sacrament to “prayer and praise” services.

As a worshipping community, Westcott House places the Church of England’s Common Worship at the heart of its life, and the diversity it expresses is reflected among the ordinands. But the Book of Common Prayer has a place there too so that students are immersed in its rhythms and at home with its language.

The Eucharist and the Daily Offices of Morning Prayer and Evening Prayer are at the centre of worship in Westcott House. The Community Eucharist on Thursday evenings is the focus of the worshipping week, and on Sundays, students are sent out in a diaconal spirit to local parish churches and college chapels.

Visiting preachers at Westcott have included the Chief Inspector of Prisons, for a celebration of Elizabeth Fry, the chaplain of Great Ormond Street Hospital, on Saint Luke’s Day, and the Archbishop of Canterbury, for the patron of the college chapel, Saint Athanasius.

Once a fortnight, the staff and students of the Cambridge Theological Federation – including those of Westcott House, Ridley Hall, the IOCS and Wesley House – join in shared worship. These services can bring a wide variety of experiences – from Orthodox vespers to charismatic evangelical communion to Roman Catholic Masses to remembrances of the Holocaust led by the Centre for Jewish Christian Relations.

‘A profoundly significant icon’

The altar in Westcott Chapel, with the icon written by Marianna Fortounatto in 1981 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

The stark austerity of the chapel at Westcott is dominated by the icon of Christ, commissioned by the Common Room and written by Marianna Fortounatto in 1981. The icon bears his words: “You did not choose me but I chose you” (John 15: 16).

Archbishop Rowan Williams, in his book The Dwelling of Light: Praying with Icons of Christ (Canterbury Press, 2003) bases his chapter on the Pantocrator on this icon, writing: “The icon of the Pantocrator in the chapel of Westcott House, Cambridge, was and is for me and many others a profoundly significant image.”

Of its meaning he writes: “The point is simple: face to face with Jesus, there and only there, do we find who we are. We have been created to mirror his life, the eternal life of the one turned always toward the overflowing love of the Father; but our human existence constantly turns away. When we look at Jesus, we see in some measure what he sees, and are drawn to where his eyes lead us ... we look at him looking at us, and try to understand that as he looks at us he looks at the Father.

“In other words, when he looks at us, he sees the love that is his own source and life, despite all we have done to obscure it in ourselves. When we look at him looking at us, we see both what we were made to be, bearers of the divine image and likeness, and what we have made of ourselves.”

Westcott Chapel also hosts the services of the Russian Orthodox Parish of Saint Ephraim the Syrian. The parish usually meets on Saturday evenings and on Sunday mornings, and members of the House are warmly welcome to attend the services.

A landmark in Cambridge

All Saints’ Church, Jesus Lane, seen from Jesus College (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

One of the weekday offices at Westcott is said at All Saints’ Church, which has been used for other occasional services, including a celebration of All Saints’ Day last year. The church stands on the corner of the Westcott House site on Jesus Lane, facing Jesus College. Its pale stone spire, which can be seen from Sidney Sussex, is a prominent city landmark.

The interior of All Saints’ Church ... a fine example of the Gothic Revival and of the Victorian arts-and-crafts movement (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

All Saints, which is a triumph of Victorian art and design, was built in the 1860s to the plans of the 19th-century architect GF Bodley, and was completed in 1871. The simple wooden door opens into a dramatic blast of colour and pattern. Light gleams through stained-glass windows, designed by leading Arts and Crafts artists, including William Morris, Edward Burne-Jones and Ford Maddox Brown.

Almost every surface has painted, stencilled or gilded decoration – pomegranates burst with seeds; flowers run riot over the walls; there is a glorious painting of Christ, the Virgin Mary and Saint John, with throngs of angels; the north aisle has three fine windows by CE Kempe and Co (1891-1923); there is stained glass by Douglas Strachan; and the fittings designed by Bodley include the alabaster font, the pulpit, and the oak aisle screen.

All Saints was declared redundant in 1973 and for years the church stood as a challenging symbol of the Church’s decline. But conservation work began in 2006 under the watchful eyes of Churches Conservation Trust, which cares for All Saints’, and this has resulted in Westcott starting to use the church again for worship.

Westcott is now planning to use the building – as has happened in the past – for liturgical and homiletic instruction, and students and staff are working with the Conservation Trust to turn what was once seen as a mark of failure into a sign of new life.

An interesting challenge

The Revd Christopher Woods ... moves to Westcott House, Cambridge, in September (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

It is an interesting challenge for the Revd Christopher Woods, Secretary of the Church of England’s Liturgical Commission and National Worship Adviser, who has been appointed Acting Chaplain at Westcott for the Michaelmas and Lent terms next year (2011-2012).

Christopher trained for ordination at the Church of Ireland Theological College, and for the past four years he has been living in Cambridge, where he has been Chaplain and Director of Studies at Christ’s College since 2007. Two years ago, I was his guest when he invited me to deliver the Candlemas lecture-sermon in Christ’s College. He moves to Westcott at the end of August.

Over coffee in Michaelhouse, he explained how his work as Secretary of the Church of England’s Liturgical Commission and as he National Worship Adviser, means he spends part of his working week in Church House, Westminster, overseeing the work of the commission, and advising the Church of England on best practice in liturgy and worship and developing liturgical formation.

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

Summer School in Cambridge comes to an end

A quiet corner of Cambridge, off King’s Parade (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2011)

Patrick Comerford

The 12th Summer School of the Institute for Orthodox Studies has come to an end, I have packed left my rooms at Sidney Sussex College, my bags are in the Porters’ Lodge, and I am ready to leave Cambridge to catch a plane at Stansted Airport.

After our closing lectures and thanks, we had lunch in the Hall and I was one of a group of students from this year who were interviewed by Dr Constantinos (Costas) Athanasopoulos about our experiences at the summer school including our visit to Saint John's Monastery yesterday, for the IOCS distance learning website.

Later, I had coffee in Michaelhouse with the Revd Christopher Woods, an old friend and former student, who is about to move in a few weeks’ time from Christ’s College to Westcott House – Sidney Sussex stands halfway between the two colleges.

Before leaving, I had my own quiet walk about through the streets in the historic centre of Cambridge, dropped in to Saint Botolph’s Church for the first time, and then remembered to have a haircut near Pembroke College.

It’s been a good week. I’m looking forward to coming back to Cambridge again. And I’m looking forward to tomorrow’s wedding in Dublin.

A quiet corner of Cambridge, behind Saint Bene’t’s Church and Corpus Christi College (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2011)

Engaging with secularism: different approaches, east and west

Inside the Main Gate at the Porters’ Lodge in Sidney Sussex College, Cambridge (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2011)

Patrick Comerford

On the closing day of the summer school [Friday 29 July] in Sidney Sussex College, Cambridge, two lecturers invited us this morning o look at a variety of approaches to engaging with secularism and modernity.

Dr Brandon Gallaher of Keble College, Oxford, spoke on: “An Alternate Modernity? Orthodox and Roman Catholic Engagements with Secularism and (Post-)Modernity, and the Nature of Episcopal Authority.” Professor Nicholas Loudovikos of the Superior Ecclesiastical Academy of Thessaloniki addressed the topic: “An Orthodox Perspective on Psychology and Secularism.” They were speaking on the closing day of the summer school organised by the Institute for Orthodox Christian Studies, which has the theme: “The Challenge of a Secular Age.”

Dr Gallaher looked at Pope Benedict XVI’s critique of and his engagement with to secularism and modernity, and the response of the Moscow Patriarchate, including the works of Patriarch Kirill of Moscow and his book Freedom and Responsibility. In a Search for Harmony. Human Rights and Personal Dignity, and of Metropolitan Hilarion Alfeyev.

He outlined the complexity of secularism and modernity, and rejected an Orthodox tendency to look at them as monolithic. Religious communities will still have a stake in secularised societies, and society will have to deal with that.

Post-secularism has been described by Jürgen Habermas and addressed by Pope Benedict, but has not been addressed as firmly by Orthodoxy, he said. “You have to talk to people who are secular, and not at them,” Dr Gallaher said.

There are multiple modernities, reconstituting multiple constructions over time, and spoke of those who seek a specifically Christian way of being modern.

Pope Benedict has talked about the dictatorship of relativism and the need to avoid. He speaks of a Christocentric vision that could oppose this, and says theology always needs to be done in a Church context.

For Pope Benedict, Christianity is the true humanism. Western society has forgotten its Christian roots, has relegated God to the merely personal and private, and has no absolute or eternal values. Although claiming to be neutral, secularism is merely negative tolerance, leading to negative discrimination. He says: “In the name of tolerance, tolerance is being abolished.”

Freedom becomes an empty goal because freedom is defined as what one can do with power. Reason ends up destroying itself. Reason and freedom need to make contact again with their roots. Reason needs faith and faith needs reason.

The Pope speaks of the necessary relatedness between reason and faith. They are called to hep and purify each other, acknowledging their mutual need, and correcting and purifying each other.

The Enlightenment has its roots in Christianity, and secularism rightly understood can be a good thing. He calls Christianity back to understanding its essential values, and secularism can be profoundly Christian, so that faith is calling the secular realm back to its root.
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Turning to the experience of the Russian Orthodox Church, Dr Gallaher was more critical, looking at the conflicting demands of dialogue and tradition. The approach to dialogue has often been characterised by the invitation: “Come in.”

But he pointed out that while the Roman Catholic Church is a multinational organisation, the Russian Orthodox Church is still essentially a national church and is working in the context of a post-Soviet situation.

He looked at the development of dialogue between the two churches, which share similar concerns about militant secularism, which Metropolitan Hilarion sees as a grave threat to Christian Europe.

Metropolitan Hilarion has been a key figure in dialogue between the Vatican and the Moscow Patriarchate. But Dr Gallaher sourced much of Metropolitan Hilarion’s views on population and immigration in the writings of the right-wing American writer Patrick Buchanan.

He also looked at Metropolitan Hilarion’s views on Church-State relations in Russia, and his writings on secularism, in which he sees Christian roots and much good.

Returning to the different ways in which the question of secularism is approached by the two Churches, he concluded that Pope Benedict had found space for dialogue with secularism, which is a child of Western Christianity, while the Orthodox begin with tradition which leaves little possibility for dialogue with what is seen as liberal and secular.

He argued that Orthodoxy had much to learn from the Vatican’s approach to dialogue, which is needed. He said there is a need for a “spiritual daring” and to risk one’s values for an “ultimate modernity.”

Dr Gallaher is Lecturer in Theology at Keble College, Oxford, and is about to take up a British Academy post-doctoral fellowship at Regent’s Park College, Oxford, working on a project on secularism and religious authority in modern Orthodox and Roman Catholic theologies.

He studied at the University of British Columbia, McGill University, Saint Vladimir’s Orthodox Theological Seminary, and Regent’s Park College, Oxford. His doctoral work at Oxford under Professor Paul Fiddes was on the role of freedom and necessity in the Trinitarian theologies of Sergii Bulgakov, Karl Barth and Hans Urs von Balthasar. He has published on Russian theologians and philosophers, including Sergeii Bulgakov, Georges Florovsky and Vladimir Solov’ev, and is co-editing a Florovsky Reader with Metropolitan Kallistos Ware writing a foreword.

Hall Court, Sidney Sussex College, Cambridge, in the summer sunshine this week (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2011)

Our final lecture this morning was delivered through a conference call. Professor Nikolaos Loudovikos of the Superior Ecclesiastical Academy of Thessaloniki spoke to us from Greece on the topic: “An Orthodox Perspective on Psychology and Secularism.” Dr Loudovikos, who is a priest of the Greek Orthodox Church, is Professor of Dogmatics and Philosophy at the Superior Ecclesiastical Academy of Thessaloniki.

Drawing on Charles Taylor’s definitions of secularism, he traced it to the rise of a society in which self-sufficient humanism, an exclusive humanism, is an option, owing allegiance to nothing else.

He also looked at the psychological aspects of secularism and modernity, and drew on his own studies of Saint Maximus the Confessor, Saint Gregory Palamas, Saint Thomas Aquinas and his own work in psychology as he looked at the possibility of humanity becoming what we are made to be.

He spoke of the impossibility of personhood without communion and of the need for a “dialogue of reciprocity.”

Father Nikolaos studied psychology, pedagogy, theology, and philosophy in Athens, Thessaloniki, Paris and Cambridge, and his thesis for his PhD in theology at the University of Thessaloniki examined The Eucharistic Ontology in the Theological Thought of Saint Maximus the Confessor. He has taught in Cambridge, Durham, Winchester, and Patras, and is also a part-time lecturer at the Institute for Orthodox Christian Studies here in Cambridge.

His recent publications include: The strive for participation: Thomas Aquinas and Gregory Palamas (Athens); A Eucharistic ontology: Maximus The Confessor’s eschatological ontology of being as dialogical reciprocity (Athens and Boston); The terrors of the person and the ordeals of love: critical thoughts for a postmodern theological ontology (Athens); and Theopoiia: postmodern theological aporia (Athens).

The bell of the chapel at Sidney Sussex College, Cambridge (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2011)

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

‘Keeping’ chapel in Sidney Sussex and Saint Bene’t’s

Saint Bene’t’s Church is the oldest building in Cambridge (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Patrick Comerford

An anonymous 19th century ballad, The Freshman and the Dean, is a reminder of how Cambridge undergraduates were expected to “keep” chapel twice on Sundays four times during the week:

It was a fast Freshman who slumbering lay
At a quarter to eight by the right time of day,
Yet still did he slumber, nor heeded the bell,
Which so early did ring him to morning Chapel.

Chorus:

Yes, time flies away and such changes it brings.
That it’s hard to believe in the Oneness of things!
For an acorn grown old as an oak may be seen.
And a Freshman himself may some day be a Dean!

There’s a hurrying of Gownsmen, their Chapels to keep,
But this gay gallant Freshman lay soundly asleep;
The psalms were all sung and the prayers were all said,
But this fastest of Freshmen lay fast in his bed !

’Twas past ten o’clock, when our hero at last
Was leisurely taking his morning repast.
When a neat “billet-doux” from the Dean did arrive,
Requesting his presence at quarter past five.

“How now, Mr Newman, this must not go on,
Sunday morning Chapel is a sine qua non
In the future don’t give me occasion to speak,
But keep two on each Sabbath and four in the week.”

“Mr Dean,” said our Freshman, “I'm in your bad books,
But I’m sure that my fault’s not so bad as it looks,
For to Chapel each morning in spirit I go,
Though my body sleeps snugly in bed as you know.”

“Oh, if that be the case,” said the Dean with a frown,
“You are free. Sir, (in spirit) to roam through the town.
But remember, or treatment more stringent awaits,
That your body, this week, will keep snug within Gates.”

Moral.

This moral, my friends, you may all take to heart.
In your dealings with Dons, it don’t pay to be smart;
For, ’though briefly you score in an elegant way.
They’ve a card up their sleeve when it’s their turn to play!

During this week, I have been attending chapel in Sidney Sussex College most evenings. But I could not say any morning that “my body sleeps snugly in bed.” I’ve been skipping out of Sidney Sussex most mornings to attend the Daily Eucharist at 8 a.m. in Saint Bene’t’s, a short walk away at the corner of Bene’t Street and Free School Lane.

Tucked into a corner of Corpus Christi College, Saint Bene’t’s is beautiful and ancient church, appreciated by many for its history and architecture. The name of the church may have inspired the setting for Susan Howatch’s third set of three novels – the Saint Benet’s Trilogy – although the novels are is set in the fictional Saint Benet’s Church in London in the 1980s and 1990s.

But this church is also an oasis of calm in the middle of the university and the city. There are many other historic and notable Anglican churches nearby – Saint Botolph’s, Saint Edward’s, Great Saint Mary’s and Little Saint Mary’s – to say nothing of the chapels of the many Cambridge college. But there is something special and something deeply spiritual about Saint Bene’t’s.

The interior of Saint Bene’t’s Church, Cambridge (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

The oldest building in Cambridge

Saint Bene’t’s is an ancient parish church, the oldest building in Cambridgeshire, and has been a place of Christian worship for almost 1,000 years. This is an Anglo-Saxon foundation dating from around 1020, when Canute was King of England. The church is dedicated to Saint Benedict, yet, despite of its name, St Bene’t’s was never a monastic place of worship, and has been a parish church from the very beginning.

The Saxon tower was probably completed around 1033. The tower has distinctive “long and short” corner dressings of Barnack stone, and the bell opening is carved from a single stone. All four original Saxon cornerstones or quoins can still be seen inside the church, along with the magnificent Saxon arch. The round holes in the tower are said to have been made to encourage owls to nest and catch mice.

Although the tower may have been built to hold bells from the beginning, the earliest record of bells in the tower only dates from the 13th century – when the bell of St Bene’t’s was used to call students to special lectures and to examinations.

The rector of the day, Alan, complained about this in 1273, but the Bishop of Ely persuaded him to allow the bell to be used “in a civil and honest way.” After that, the parish clerk was paid an annual fee of 6s 8d for ringing the bell to call the students.

The arcading separating the nave and the south aisle dates from around 1300. To the south or right of the altar, are two curved ogee arched recesses dating from the 14th century. One arch houses the sedilia or seats for the officiating clergy – the priest, deacon and subdeacon; the other arch once held the piscina, the shallow basin used for washing the Eucharistic vessels and for the disposal of water used sacramentally, with a drain direct to the earth.

Close to Corpus Christi

Blind recesses on the south side of the transept in Saint Bene’t’s … they once opened into a room that is now part of Corpus Christi College (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

In the 14th century, the church was used by some of the Cambridge guilds, and in 1352 the Guild of Corpus Christi, which met at Saint Bene’t’s, joined with the Guild of Saint Mary, which met at Great Saint Mary’s Church, the University Church, to found the College of Corpus Christi.

For many decades after the foundation of Corpus Christi, the college had no chapel, and the members worshipped at neighbouring Saint Bene’t’s Church. Saint Bene’t’s was used as the college chapel for many years and the two still have strong links. Tiny peepholes in a wall at the east end of the south aisle indicate a 16th century staircase leading to an upper room. The staircase is now blocked off, and the upper room is part of Corpus Christi College.

The Pelican, the symbol of Corpus Christi College, on a hassock in Saint Bene’t’s Church, Cambridge (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

The association between the church and the college was so strong that Corpus Christi was popularly known as Bennet College, and in the early 16th century a gallery was erected connecting Old Court and the church.

On the floor near the staircase is a brass to Richard Billingford, DD, Master of Corpus Christi and Chancellor of the University of Cambridge, who died in 1432. He wears a doctor’s cap, and the robe called a cappa clausa, which is still used for some university ceremonies.

Last year, for the first time since probably the 16th century, the Corpus Christi Day procession took place from Saint Bene’t’s to Corpus Christi College.

The bells of Saint Bene’t’s

In 1553, the church had “thre great Belles and one Sanctus Bell.” The oldest surviving bell in the church is the second, dated 1588. The third bell, dated 1607, bears the inscription: “Of all the bells in Benet I am the best, and yet for my castings the parish paid lest.”

The bells continued to be used for summoning to “ye schooles ... acts, clearums, congregations, lecturs, disses, and such like,” according to a receipt for a fee of 6s 8d dated 1624.

However, by 1650 the bells were “much out of frame and almost become useless.” In 1655, the churchwardens appealed for money to repair the bells. The university gave 30 shillings, with the caveat that it was a free gift was not to be regarded as setting a precedent. Corpus Christi College also gave money. Today there are six bells, dated 1663, 1588, 1607, 1825, 1610 and 1618.

Rebuilding and retention

The Victorians rebuilt the chancel and the chancel arch in the 19th century, adding new clerestory windows and a new roof, as well as widening the north and south aisles. The north and east walls of the chancel were rebuilt in their original positions, but the south wall, which may be part of the original Saxon church, was retained.

Some of the items of historical interest that have been retained in the church include a 13th century coffin lid, a late mediæval iron-bound chest, a funeral bier, refectory table and bench from the 17th century, and an 18th century fire hook for pulling burning thatch from the roof.

There is also a modern icon of Saint Benedict and Saint Francis – the church was staffed by Franciscans for 60 years from 1945 to 2005 – as well as a crucifix carved by a sister of the Community of Saint Clare, and ‘The Passion,’ a modern sculpture by Enzo Plazzotta.

Since 1578, there have been 73 incumbents at St Bene’t’s and 52 of these have been members of Corpus Christi. Most did not stay long, perhaps because there was no rectory and they had to move elsewhere when they married. Many had distinguished careers, including eight who became masters of Corpus Christ College, four who became bishops and two who became archbishops.

Those former vicars include Michael Ramsey, who was here in 1938 and later became Archbishop of Canterbury. He is still remembered fondly, and the Ramsey Rooms, created at the west end of the south aisle in 2002, beside the tower, are used for Sunday School and other meetings.

The most recent Vicar of Saint Bene’t’s was the theologian, writer and broadcaster, the Revd Angela Tilby, who has also been a tutor in Church History at Westcott House on Jesus Lane. She had been vicar from 2007, and she spent her last Sunday in the church earlier this month on 3 July before leaving to take up a new position as a Canon of Christ Church Cathedral, Oxford.

The church continues the rhythms of common daily prayer today, with the Eucharist at 8 a.m. each morning and Evening Prayer at 6 p.m.

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

Old portraits and new needs in Cambridge

Cloister Court in Sidney Sussex College last night ... the IOCS summer school comes to an end today (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2011)

Patrick Comerford

Patrick Comerford

The portraits of two Irish bishops – Archbishop John Bramhall of Armagh and Bishop John Garnett of Clogher – decorate the Old Library and the stairs leading up to it in Chapel Court in Sidney Sussex College, Cambridge.

Last night [28 July], we had our closing dinner of the Summer School of the Institute for Orthodox Studies in the Old Library, dining beneath the portrait of Archbishop Bramhall and other Episcopal worthies associated with Sidney Sussex.

Archbishop Bramhall (1594 -1663), who received his BA, BD, MA and DD degrees while he was a member of Sidney Sussex, came to Ireland as Archdeacon of Meath in 1633, became Bishop of Derry in 1634 and became Archbishop of Armagh in 1661. As archbishop, he presided at the consecration in Saint Patrick’s Cathedral, Dublin, of two archbishops and ten bishops for the post-restoration Church of Ireland, and became Speaker of the Irish House of Lords.

Bishop Garnett (1709-1782) graduated BA at Cambridge in 1728, and MA in 1732. He was a Fellow of Sidney Sussex College and Lady Margaret preacher to the university before going to Ireland in 1751 as chaplain to the Lord Lieutenant, the Duke of Dorset, and in 1752 became Bishop of Ferns. He became Bishop of Clogher in 1758. Bishop Garnett died in Dublin in 1782.

Professor David Frost, in that famous tie, speaking under the portrait of Archbishop John Bramhall in the Old Library in Sidney Sussex College, Cambridge, last night (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2011)

The Principal of the IOCS, Professor David Frost, a Shakespearean scholar, a liturgist and a former Fellow of Saint John’s College, where we watched Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream, the previous night, stood beneath Bramhall’s portrait after dinner last night as he told a story about a number of Anglican, Orthodox and Roman Catholic bishops who were known variously as “Your Eminence,” “Your Elegance,” “Your Excellence,” and “Your Effluence.”

But on a more serious note, he also launched an appeal for a new home for the IOCS, which has been housed for the past ten years at Wesley House on Jesus Lane, and has been using facilities offered by other colleges in the Cambridge Theological Federation.

But as it expands, the institute needs a place of its own and is now looking at two linked Victorian terrace houses in Portugal Place, beside Saint Clement’s Church, an early English church which is used by both a small Church of England parish and the much larger Greek Orthodox parish of Saint Athanasios. It is a vision that needs practical as well as financial support.

Later, it fell to me – as one of the longer-standing students at these summer schools – to thank the directors, staff and lecturers for all they have done for us in the past and in the present, and for all they hope to do in the future.

And then – in a less sober mood – many of us adjourned to the Eagle in Benet Street, not so much for the Liturgy after the Liturgy, Dinner after the Dinner, or Drinks after the Drinks, but to continue the conversation and our friendships, before returning to Sidney Sussex. The summer school enters its last day today [Friday].

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

Visiting a monastic community in rural Essex

Inside the first chapel in the old rectory at the Patriarchal Stavropegic Monastery of Saint John the Baptist at Tolleshunt Knights (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2011)

Patrick Comerford

We had an early start this morning [Thursday, 28 July], leaving Sidney Sussex College at 6 a.m. to catch a bus from Jesus Lane, Cambridge, to visit the Patriarchal Stavropegic Monastery of Saint John the Baptist at Tolleshunt Knights, near Maldon in Essex.

We arrived in time for the Divine Liturgy at 8 a.m., served by a Finnish monk, Father Melchisedec, followed by breakfast with the Hegumen or Abbot of the monastery, Archimandrite Kyrill, who is originally from Australia, and the monastic community. The monastery is a monastic community of both men and women, directly under the Ecumenical Patriarchate, and is the oldest Orthodox religious community in Britain.

The community was founded in an old Anglican rectory in 1958 by Elder Sophrony, under the jurisdiction of Metropolitan Anthony of Sourozh, who was then the ruling Russian bishop in England, with six founding members of the monastic community drawn from different nations. The monastery was brought under the direct jurisdiction of the Ecumenical Patriarchate in 1965.

When he was founding the monastery, Elder Sophrony wanted to be sure his community would not just have outward conformity, but also focus on inner asceticism. The typikon of the monastery consists of the repetition of the Jesus Prayer about four hours a day and the serving of the Divine Liturgy three or four times a week. This found inspiration in Elder Sophrony’s experience as an Athonite monk, and in the example of Athonite skete practices and the lives of Saint Nicodemus and Saint Paisius Velichkovsky.

The community consists of men and women living the monastic tradition of a Christ-centred prayer life. At present, there are over 40 members of the community – the majority are nuns, with a smaller number of monks, and they come from many countries including Australia, Cyprus, Denmark, Egypt, Finland, Germany, Greece, Romania, Russia and Sweden.

After breakfast, Sister Thecla, originally from Romania, brought us on a tour of the monastery, including a visit to the first chapel built here in the former rectory by the founder, Father Sophrony, when he arrived from Paris, and told us of the life of his spiritual father, Saint Silouan the Athonite.

A walk in the Essex countryside before lunch (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2011)

There was time before lunch for a walk through some of the beautiful countryside surrounding the monastery, and through the monastery orchards, which look out onto the sea and across to Bradwell.

The monastery rectory where we shared lunch with community (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2011)

After lunch, Father Nikolai Sakharov spoke to us about ‘Monasticism and the World Today.’ Father Nikolai was a student of Metropolitan Kallistos, who spoke to us at the summer school on Tuesday, and received a D.Div. from the University of Oxford for his thesis: “I Love Therefore I am: The Theological Legacy of Archimandrite Sophrony.” It has been published as: I Love Therefore I am: The Theological Legacy of Archimandrite Sophrony (SVS 2003).

Later this evening, there is a special Summer School dinner in the Old Library of Sidney Sussex College.

The Revd Gunnlaugur Garðarsson (Glerárkirkja, Iceland), Father Nikolai Sakharov and Patrick Comerford in the monastery grounds this afternoon (Photograph: Christoph Schneider)

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

A midsummer night of Shakespeare at Saint John’s College

Shakespeare on the lawn ... well it was a midsummer night (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2011)

Patrick Comerford

Last night, we moved from Jerusalem to Athens, from Sidney Sussex to Saint John’s, from theology to theatre, from Eastern Orthodoxy to English literature, from discussing secularism to the drama of Shakespeare, from summer school to A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

The participants in the summer school organised by the Institute for Orthodox Christian Studies were invited to a production of William Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream, staged in Saint John’s College Garden as part of the Cambridge Shakespeare Festival.

Cambridge is well-known for the Cambridge Footlights, which was the starting point of the careers of many actors, comedians and media personalities, including John Cleese, Peter Cook, Stephen Fry, Hugh Laurie, Jonathan Miller, Emma Thompson, and many members of both the Monty Python team and the Goodies. The Footlights – or more properly the Cambridge University Footlights Dramatic Club – is now based at the ADC Theatre in Park Street, off Jesus Lane, and a few steps around the corner from Sidney Sussex College.

The ADC Theatre off Jesus Lane ... home to the Cambridge Footlights (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2011)

But theatre in Cambridge is also synonymous – especially at this time of the year – with the Cambridge Shakespeare Festival. The festival was founded in 1987, and was recently described in the TLS as “one of the finest events of its kind in the UK.” The festival runs for eight weeks in July and August, with productions attracting up to 25,000 visitors, many returning to Cambridge year after year.

The festival tries to strip away unnecessary theatrical artifice and gimmickry. But the productions are vivid and spectacular, performed in full period costume with live Elizabethan music.

Yet the company seeks to make all the plays accessible, without assuming any prior knowledge on the part of the audience of the author or of the evening’s play.

The audience arrived early for a dramatic evening (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2011)

A festival evening is a unique experience, with each performance staged in the open air in the idyllic setting of a Cambridge college garden, with the audience arriving early to picnic before an evening of theatre.

Last night’s performance of A Midsummer Night’s Dream was in the Scholars’ Garden at Saint John's College – just inside the Queen’s Road entrance. The play, one of Shakespeare’s most popular and widely performed the world over, is a humour-packed fairy-tale set in a world of love, jealousy and youthful exuberance.

Dramatis personæ ... a theatrical touch to the façade of Cintra House on Hills Road, Cambridge. Originally built as a terrace of houses by John Edlin in 1860-1865, the romantic façade was added later. Cheshunt College, which moved here in 1905, is now part of Westminster College and Cintra House is now owned by the Open University (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2011)

A Midsummer Night’s Dream, probably written between 1590 and 1596, tells of the events surrounding the marriage of Theseus, Duke of Athens, and Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons. These include the adventures of four young from Athens lovers – Demetrius and Helena, Lysander and Hermia – and a group of amateur actors – Quince, Snout, Flute, Starvevling, Snug and Botom – who are manipulated by fairies – Oberon, Titania and Puck – who live in the forest in which much of the play is set.

And how the scenic gardens of Saint John’s provided an apt setting for that woodland scenes last night!

Saint John’s College was founded in 1511 by Lady Margaret Beaufort, mother of King Henry VII. It is the second largest college in Cambridge, it has about 135 Fellows, 530 undergraduates and 300 graduate students. The total current membership of the College, comprising in essence all those who have studied here, stands at around 12,000.

The Scholars’ Garden in Saint John’s provided an apt setting for that woodland scenes last night (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2011)

David Salter’s production was lively and enjoyable, enthralling us with music and slap-stick humour and inviting audience participation. The cast was hard-working, with most actors playing multiple parts, thanks to quick changes of hats, of accents – and of accents.

Annie Gregson played both Starveling holding ‘the moon’ and a lovesick Helena following Demetrius around. Gareth Saunders played both Demetrius, the object of Helena’s affections, and the equally unhappy ‘wall’ caught between Pyramus and Thisbe in the ‘play within the play,’ visibly uncomfortable as the lovers whispered to one another across him and moved to kiss each other. There was a cleverly choreographed cat fight between the central ladies, with Hermia (Catherine Forrester, who had replaced Daphne Alexander) finding herself trapped in a wicker basket beneath the trees and shaking with rage.

As the sun set, the floodlights picked out the feathers strung through the trees, pigeons could be heard in the trees nearby, a lone swift circled above, moths glowed in Starveling’s would-be moonbeam, and a glorious summer evening passed to dusk and then to night.

When all was over, we walked back from Saint John’s gardens, along Queen’s Road, by Westminster College, on down Magdalene Street, over Magdalene Bridge to the Mitre in Bridge Street, to discuss the play, the play within the play, and to end a perfect midsummer night.

Let the play commence: the Revd Gunnlaugur Garðarsson (Glerárkirkja, Iceland), the Revd David Cassidy (Austin, Texas), Patrick Comerford, and Alexander Ogorodnikov (Moscow) in Saint John’s College, Cambridge, last night (Photograph: Dragos Herescu, 2011)

A Midsummer Night’s Dream continues in Saint John’s College Gardens until Saturday evening [30 July]. In all, eight plays are being staged during this year’s festival. Until Saturday, the performances are: A Midsummer Night’s Dream (Saint John’s), Antony and Cleopatra (Robinson College), The Winter’s Tale (Downing College) and The Comedy of Errors (Girton College).

From Monday [1 August], the plays are: Much Ado About Nothing (King’s College), Macbeth (Trinity College), All’s Well That Ends Well (Robinson College), and Romeo and Juliet (Girton College). The festival ends on 27 August.

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