‘Little children, love one another … because it is enough

Saint John with the poisoned chalice, above the main gate of Saint John’s College, Cambridge (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2015)

Patrick Comerford,

Christ Church Cathedral,

Sunday 27 December 2015,

Saint John the Evangelist,

11 a.m., Sung Eucharist

Readings: Exodus 33: 7-11a; Psalm 117; I John 1: 1-9; John 21: 19b-25.

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

This morning the Feast Day of Saint John the Evangelist, or Saint John the Divine, is an alternative to marking the First Sunday of Christmas.

It seems appropriate in the days immediately after Christmas that we should be jolted out of our comforts, in case we begin to atrophy, and to be reminded of what the great German martyr Dietrich Bonhoeffer called the “Cost of Discipleship.”

Following Christ is not all about Christmas shopping, feasts, decorations and falling asleep in front of the television – comforting, enjoyable and pleasant as they are, particularly in family settings.

Yesterday was the feast of Saint Stephen [26 December], often referred to as the first Christian martyr; tomorrow is the feast of the Holy Innocents [28 December], the first – albeit unwitting – martyrs according to Saint Matthew’s Gospel.

In The Ariel Poems TS Eliot puts wise words into the mouth of the Wise Men who recalls the cold coming of it experienced in the ‘Journey of the Magi’. There he makes the connection between birth and death:

All this was a long time ago, I remember,
And I would do it again, but set down
This set down
This: were we led all that way for
Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly,
We had evidence and no doubt. I had seen birth and death,
But had thought they were different; this Birth was
Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death.
We returned to our places, these Kingdoms,
But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation,
With an alien people clutching their gods.
I should be glad of another death.

Between those two commemorations of martyrdom, we find ourselves today [27 December] marking the Feast of Saint John the Evangelist.

The symbol of the serpent and the chalice, a carving by Eric Gill in the capstone at Saint John’s College, Cambridge (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2015)

At first, this too may not seem to be an appropriate feastday to celebrate in the days immediately after Christmas. Even chronologically it creates difficulties for tradition says Saint John was the last of the disciples to die, making his death the one that is separated most in terms of length of time from the birth of Christ.

In art, Saint John the Evangelist is frequently represented as an Eagle, symbolising the heights to which he rises in the first chapter of his Gospel.

For Saint John, there is no annunciation, no nativity, no crib in Bethlehem, no shepherds or wise men, no little stories to allow us to be sentimental and to be amused. He is sharp, direct and gets to the point: “In the beginning …”

But the Prologue to Saint John’s Gospel is one of the traditional readings on Christmas Day, so many of us immediately associate his writings with this time of the year.

Saint John the Evangelist is unnamed in the Fourth Gospel. Yet tradition identifies him with the John who is:

● one of the three at the Transfiguration,
● one of the disciples sent to prepare a place for the Last Supper,
● one of the three present in the Garden of Gethsemane,
● the only disciple present at the Crucifixion,
● the disciple to whom Christ entrusts his mother from the Cross,
● the first disciple to arrive at Christ’s tomb after the Resurrection,
● the disciple who first recognises Christ standing on the lake shore following the Resurrection.

The Beloved Disciple, alone among the Twelve, remains with Christ at the foot of the Cross with the Mother of Christ and the women and he is asked by the dying Christ to take Mary into his care (John 19: 25-27). After Mary Magdalene’s report of the Resurrection, Peter and the “other disciple” are the first to go to the grave, and the “other disciple” is the first to believe that Christ is truly risen (John 20: 2-10).

When the Risen Christ appears at the Lake of Genesareth, “that disciple whom Jesus loved” is the first of the seven disciples present who recognises Christ standing on the shore (John 21: 7).

The site of Saint John’s tomb is marked by a marble plaque and four Byzantine pillars (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Saint Paul names John as one of the pillars of the Church in Jerusalem (see Galatians 2: 9). Later, tradition says, he takes over the position of leadership Paul once had in the Church in Ephesus and is said to have lived there and to have been buried there.

According to a tradition mentioned by Saint Jerome, in the second general persecution, in the year 95, Saint John was arrested and sent to Rome, where he was thrown into a vat or cauldron of boiling oil but miraculously was preserved from death.

According to ancient tradition, during the reign of the Emperor Domitian, Saint John was once given a cup of poisoned wine, but he blessed the cup and the poison rose out of the cup in the form of a serpent. Saint John then drank the wine with no ill effect. A chalice with a serpent signifying the powerless poison has become one of his symbols.

Domitian then banished Saint John to the isle of Patmos. It was there in the year 96 he had those heavenly visions recorded in the Book of Revelation. After the death of Domitian, it is said, he returned to Ephesus in the year 97, and there tradition says he wrote his gospel about the year 98. He is also identified with the author of the three Johannine letters.

The tradition of the Church says Saint John lived to old age in Ephesus. Jerome, in his commentary on Chapter 6 of the Epistle to the Galatians (Jerome, Comm. in ep. ad. Gal., 6, 10), tells the well-loved story that Saint John continued preaching in Ephesus even when he was in his 90s.

He was so enfeebled with old age that the people carried him into the Church in Ephesus on a stretcher. When he was no longer able to preach or deliver a long discourse, his custom was to lean up on one elbow on each occasion and to say simply: “Little children, love one another.” This continued on, even when the ageing John was on his deathbed.

Then he would lie back down and his friends would carry him back out. Every week in Ephesus, the same thing happened, again and again. And every week it was the same short sermon, exactly the same message: “Little children, love one another.”

One day, the story goes, someone asked him about it: “John, why is it that every week you say exactly the same thing, ‘little children, love one another’?” And John replied: “Because it is enough.” If you want to know the basics of living as a Christian, there it is in a nutshell. All you need to know is. “Little children, love one another.”

According to Eusebius, Saint John died in peace at Ephesus, in the third year of Trajan, that is, the year 100, when he was about 94 years old. According to Saint Epiphanius, he was buried on a mountain outside the town. The Basilica of Saint John the Theologian gave the later name of Aysoluk to the hill above the town of Selçuk, beside Ephesus.

A relief sculpture of Saint John ... one of a series in Pugin’s font in Saint Chad’s Roman Catholic Cathedral in Birmingham with the symbols of the four evangelists (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2015)

I am constantly overwhelmed and in awe of the emphasis on love and light throughout the Johannine letters. That emphasis on love, which informs the story of Saint John’s last days, is brought through in the first of the Johannine letters (I John 1: 1-9) which we read this morning.

This emphasis constantly informs all aspects of my ministry.

I was once doing Sunday duty during a vacancy in a parish that has three churches. A student asked me at the time how many sermons I preached. I replied: “Three.”

“You preach three sermons every Sunday?” she asked with an air of incredulity.

I explained: “I preach three sermons all the time. The first is ‘Love God,’ the second is ‘Love one another,’, and the third, in case someone missed the first and second sermons, is ‘Love God and love one another’.”

That is the heart of the Christmas story, that is the heart of the Gospel, that is heart of the Johannine writings, and that, to put it simply, is why we celebrate Saint John in the days immediately after Christmas. “Little children, love one another.”

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

Collect:

Merciful Lord,
cast your bright beams of light upon the Church;
that, being enlightened by the teaching
of your blessed apostle and evangelist Saint John,
we may so walk in the light of your truth
that we may at last attain to the light of everlasting life
through Jesus Christ your incarnate Son our Lord.

Post Communion Prayer:

Grant, O Lord, we pray,
that the Word made flesh proclaimed by your apostle John
may ever abide and live within us;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

(Revd Canon Professor) Patrick Comerford is lecturer in Anglicanism, Liturgy and Church History, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute and a canon of Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin. This sermon was preached in Christ Church Cathedral on Sunday 27 December 2015.

‘Even more sherry vicar?’ … or a taste of Sicily after dinner?

A glass of Marsala … and a double espresso … after dinner in Dublin on Sunday evening (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2015)

Patrick Comerford

One of the disadvantages of travelling by Ryanair to Stansted regularly and only taking hand luggage on trips to Cambridge during the year is not being able to bring back a nice bottle of port or sherry that Sidney Sussex College, like most other Cambridge colleges, sells from its own cellars.

Christmas is, perhaps, the only time of the year that I think of opening a bottle of port or sherry, and even talk of this draws the inevitable response: “More sherry, vicar?”

Sherry is sometimes referred to in England as the “vicar’s legacy.”

Even when the Cambridge News reported recently that ITV was making a second series based on James Runcie’s Grantchester Mysteries, the headline proclaimed: “Even more sherry vicar? ITV returns to Cambridgeshire for Grantchester’s second series.”

Yet there is not one mention of sherry in the news report itself.

The persistence of this phrase in English humour is probably due to a well-known Monty Python sketch that was first broadcast in 1972 and is still popular over 40 years later.

Christmas staff parties and dinners seem, in some seasonable way, to bring together sherry – at the dinners, and mock-ups of Monty Python sketches – at the parties.



In the Monty Python sketch, a sherry salesman named Husband interrupts a conversation in a vestry between a sherry-drinking vicar and a parishioner who seems to be an earnest, quiet, self-effacing man with a tortured conscience.

Husband: Well, Vicar, I’ve made inquiries with our shippers and the most sherry they can ship in any one load is 12,000 gallons.

Vicar: And how many glasses is that?

Husband: That’s roughly 540,000 glasses, Vicar.

Vicar: That’s excellent, Husband, excellent.

Husband: Yes, it means you can still keep your main sherry supply on the roof, but you can have an emergency supply underneath the vestry of 5,000 gallons.

Vicar: Yes, and I could have dry sherry on the roof and Amontillado in the underground tank!

Husband: Absolutely.

(The vicar signs a form that Husband hands to him.)

Vicar: Excellent work, Husband, excellent work.

Husband: Not at all, Vicar, you’re one of our best customers, you and the United States. Well goodbye.

I am expecting a few Monty Python sketches over the next few evenings. But after a recent dinner in Dublin, accompanied by a bottle of Vernaccia di San Gimignano, instead of a glass of port or a glass of sherry, I had a glass of Marsala.

It was interesting reminder of a week in Sicily earlier this year.

Marsala is a wine, dry or sweet, produced in the region surrounding Marsala, on the western edges of Sicily. Marsala was first given Denominazione di Origine Controllata (DOC) status in 1969. Since then, EU regulations have helped ensure that most countries limit the use of the term Marsala to wines that come from the Marsala area.

The wine produced for export in Marsala is universally fortified similar to Port, Madeira and Sherry. Originally, this addition of alcohol was to ensure that it would last on long ocean voyages, but now it is made that way because of its popularity in foreign markets.

John Woodhouse, an English trader, landed in Marsala in 1773 and discovered the local wine, which was aged in wooden casks, tasted like Spanish and Portuguese fortified wines that were popular at the time in England.

Woodhouse realised that that way the wines were made in Marsala raised the alcohol level and alcoholic taste of this wine and preserved these characteristics during long distance sea travel. Woodhouse’s Marsala was such a success in England, he returned to Sicily and began mass production in 1796.

Of course, Marsala should not be confused with Masala. And if Marsala is a typically English taste, then so too is Chicken Tikka Masala, which was almost certainly invented in Britain. It is among the country’s most popular dishes, and in 2001 Robin Cook, who was then the Foreign Secretary, even claimed it was a British national dish. A recent survey found it is Britain’s second most popular foreign dish to cook, after Chinese stir fry.

As a vegetarian I am not going to confuse my Marsala and my Masala this season. But, having not brought any port back from Cambridge this year, I may expect a few more glasses of Marsala … and a few more Monty Python sketches.

‘More sherry vicar’ … a new series of ‘Grantchester’ was filmed in Cambridge earlier this year (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2015)

Heroes of the Bible, heroes of the faith: introducing Saint John the Evangelist

Saint John with the poisoned chalice, above the main gate of Saint John’s College, Cambridge (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2015)

Patrick Comerford

In our tutorial group, we have been look at “Heroes” – Heroes of the Bible and Heroes of the Faith. Earlier this semester I introduced Dean Gonville ffrench-Beytagh. Now we have turned to Biblical figures, and this morning I want to introduce Saint John the Evangelist, or Saint John the Divine.

Saint John the Evangelist, the author of the Fourth Gospel, is also known as Saint John the Divine and Saint John of Patmos, and as the Beloved Disciple. Yet, while the Fourth Gospel refers to an unnamed “Beloved Disciple,” the author of the Gospel seems interested in maintaining his internal anonymity.

He is celebrated in the Calendar of the Church two days after Christmas Day, on 27 December, and the Prologue to Saint John’s Gospel is one of the traditional readings on Christmas Day, so many of our parishioners will be familiar with his writings at this time of the year, although not familiar with his life story.

Saint John the Evangelist (Hebrew, Yoḥanan, ‘God is gracious,’ Greek, Ἰωάννης) is identified with the ‘Beloved Disciple’ who is unnamed in the Fourth Gospel. He is also identified traditionally as the author of the Fourth Gospel, the three Johannine Letters (I John, II John and II John) and the Book of Revelation, , which we are reading in the lectionary in chapel these weeks.

Christian tradition says that Saint John the Evangelist was one of the original Twelve apostles and the only one to live into old age and not be killed for his faith. If this identification and tradition is correct, then, as well as being a Biblical author, this Saint John has a prominent place throughout the Gospels, for he is:

● one of the three disciples at the Transfiguration,
● one of the disciples sent to prepare a place for the Last Supper,
● one of the three disciples present in the Garden of Gethsemane when Christ is arrested,
● the only disciple present at the Crucifixion,
● the disciple to whom Christ entrusts his mother from the Cross,
● the first disciple to arrive at Christ’s tomb after the Resurrection,
● the disciple who first recognises Christ standing on the lake shore following the Resurrection.

So, Saint John the Evangelist is identified with John who was a Galilean, the son of Zebedee and Salome, and the brother of James the Greater. In the Gospels the two brothers are often called “the sons of Zebedee” after their father, and Christ calls them the “sons of thunder” (ἐπέθηκεν αὐτοῖς ὀνόμα[τα] Βοανηργές, ὅ ἐστιν Υἱοὶ Βροντῆς, “he gave to them the names Boanerges, which means Sons of Thunder”, see Mark 3: 17).

Originally they were fishermen who fished with their father in the Lake of Genesareth. However, for a time they became time disciples of Saint John the Baptist, and were called by Christ from the circle of John's followers, together with along with Saint Andrew and Saint Peter (see John 1: 35-42).

In the Gospel lists of the Twelve, Saint John is listed second (Acts 1: 13), third (Mark 3: 17) or fourth (Matthew 10: 3; Luke 6: 14), yet always after Saint James, apart from a few passages (Luke 8: 51; 9: 28; Acts 1: 13).

Peter, James and John are the only witnesses of the raising of Jairus’s daughter (Mark 5: 37), the Transfiguration (Matthew 17: 1), and Christ’s Agony in Gethsemane (Matthew 26: 37). John and Peter alone are sent into the city to prepare for the Last Supper (Luke 22: 8).

At the Last Supper, John sits beside Christ, reclining next to him (John 13: 23, 25). According to the general interpretation, John is “another disciple” who, with Peter, follows Christ after the arrest into the courtyard of the high priest (John 18: 15).

The Beloved Disciple, alone among the Twelve, remains with Christ at the foot of the Cross with the Mother of Christ and the women and he is asked by the dying Christ to take Mary into his care (John 19: 25-27). After Mary Magdalene’s report of the Resurrection, Peter and the “other disciple” are the first to go to the grave, and the “other disciple” is the first to believe that Christ is truly risen (John 20: 2-10).

When the Risen Christ appears at the Lake of Genesareth, “that disciple whom Jesus loved” is the first of the seven disciples present who recognises Christ standing on the shore (John 21: 7).

After the Ascension and the Day of Pentecost, John and Peter take prominent roles in guiding the new Church. He is with Peter at the healing of the lame man in the Temple (Acts 3: 1-11), and is thrown into prison with Peter (Acts 4: 3). Again, we find him with Peter visiting the newly converted people of Samaria (Acts 8: 14).

Scenes from the life of Saint John the Evangelist in the chapel of Saint John’s College, Cambridge: on the left, he survives being thrown into boiling oil outside the Latin gate (ante portam Latinam); on the right, he survives drinking from a poisoned chalice.

After the Ascension, Saint John travels to Samaria and is thrown into prison with Saint Peter (Acts 4: 3).

Saint Paul names John, alongside James and Peter (Cephas), as pillars of the Church in Jerusalem (see Galatians 2: 9). When Paul returns to Jerusalem after his second and third journeys (Acts 18: 22; 21:17 ff), he does not seem to meet John there. Perhaps John remained there for 12 years until the persecution of Herod Agrippa I led to the scattering of the Apostles throughout the Roman Empire (cf. Acts 12: 1-17).

A Christian community is already living in Ephesus before Saint Paul’s first labours there (see Acts 18: 24-27, where the leading Christians included Priscilla and Aquila), and tradition associates Saint John the Evangelist with Ephesus, where he is said to have lived and been buried.

According to a tradition mentioned by Saint Jerome, in the second general persecution, in the year 95, Saint John was apprehended by the Proconsul of Asia and sent to Rome, where he was miraculously preserved from death when he was thrown into a vat or cauldron of boiling oil. The Church of Saint John Lateran (San Giovanni a Porta Latina), which is dedicated to him, was built near the Latin Gate (Porta Latina), the traditional scene of this event. Because of this trial, the Early Fathers of the Church give him the title of martyr.

The symbol of the serpent and the chalice, a carving by Eric Gill in the capstone at Saint John’s College, Cambridge (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2015)

According to ancient tradition, during the reign of the Emperor Domitian, Saint John was once given a cup of poisoned wine, but he blessed the cup and the poison rose out of the cup in the form of a serpent. Saint John then drank the wine with no ill effect.

A chalice with a serpent signifying the powerless poison is one of his symbols, so that the image of Saint John with the poisoned chalice is still seen above the main gate of Saint John’s College, Cambridge.

An icon of Saint John the Divine in the cave on Patmos listening to the voice that tells him to write

Domitian banished Saint John into the isle of Patmos. It was during this period that John experienced those heavenly visions which he recorded in the Book of Revelation in the year 96. The Book of Revelation tells us that its author was on the island of Patmos “for the word of God and for the testimony of Jesus” when he was received this revelation in a cave (see Revelation 1: 9, one of the appointed readings in the Church of Ireland lectionary for yesterday [8 December 2015]).

After the death of Domitian, it is said, Saint John returned to Ephesus in the year 97, and there tradition says he wrote his gospel about the year 98. He is also identified with the author of the three Johannine Epistles in the New Testament. By the late second century, the tradition of the Church was saying that Saint John lived to old age in Ephesus.

Saint John the Divine on his deathbed ... from a window in Chartres Cathedral

Jerome, in his commentary on Chapter 6 of the Epistle to the Galatians (Jerome, Comm. in ep. ad. Gal., 6, 10), tells the well-loved story that Saint John the Evangelist continued preaching in Ephesus even when he was in his 90s.

He was so enfeebled with old age that the people carried him into the Church in Ephesus on a stretcher. When he was no longer able to preach or deliver a long discourse, his custom was to lean up on one elbow on each occasion and to say simply: “Little children, love one another.” This continued on, even when the ageing John was on his death-bed.

Then he would lie back down and his friends would carry him back out. Every week in Ephesus, the same thing happened, again and again. And every week it was the same short sermon, exactly the same message: “Little children, love one another.”

One day, the story goes, someone asked him about it: “John, why is it that every week you say exactly the same thing, ‘little children, love one another’?” And John replied: “Because it is enough.” If you want to know the basics of living as a Christian, there it is in a nutshell. All you need to know is. “Little children, love one another.”

The Basilica of Saint John the Theologian gave the later name of Aysoluk to the hill above the town of Selçuk, beside Ephesus (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

According to Eusebius, Saint John died in peace at Ephesus, in the third year of Trajan, that is, the year 100, when he was about 94 years old. According to Saint Epiphanius, he was buried on a mountain outside the town.

The Basilica of Saint John the Theologian gave the later name of Aysoluk to the hill above the town of Selçuk, beside Ephesus.

The site of Saint John’s tomb is marked by a marble plaque and four Byzantine pillars (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Looking at the Johannine Literature

The Epistles and the Book of Revelation presuppose that their one author John belonged to the multitude of personal eyewitnesses of the life and work of Christ (see especially I John 1: 1-5; 4: 14), that he lived for a long time in Asia Minor, that he was thoroughly acquainted with the conditions in a variety Christian communities there, and that he was recognised by all Christian communities as leader of this part of the Church.

Collectively, the Gospel, the three Epistles, and Revelation are known as Johannine literature. Christian tradition identified Saint John the Apostle as the author of the Gospel, the three Epistles and the Book of Revelation that bear his name. However, within Johannine literature, Revelation bears the least grammatical similarity to the Gospel, and modern scholarship is divided about the Johannine authorship of these texts.

The most widely accepted view is that – whether or not the same man wrote all the Johannine works – it all came out of the same community in Asia Minor, which had some connections with Saint John the Evangelist, Saint John of Patmos, and John the Presbyter.

The author of Saint John’s Gospel of John never identifies himself by name, but the text identifies him as the “Beloved Disciple” repeatedly referred to in the Gospel.

Why am I so drawn to the Johannine literature, and why has this influenced my choice of Saint John to introduce this series of studies?

First, I find the Prologue to the Gospel (John 1: 1-14) one of the greatest pieces of literature and poetry in the New Testament.

For Saint John, there is no annunciation, no nativity, no crib in Bethlehem, no shepherds or wise men, no little stories to allow us to be sentimental and to muse. He is sharp, direct and gets to the point: “In the beginning …” But traditionally, the prologue to Saint John’s Gospel is one of the traditional Gospel readings for Christmas Day.

1 Ἐν ἀρχῇ ἦν ὁ λόγος,
καὶ ὁ λόγος ἦν πρὸς τὸν θεόν,
καὶ θεὸς ἦν ὁ λόγος.
2 οὗτος ἦνἐν ἀρχῇ πρὸς τὸν θεόν.
3 πάντα δι' αὐτοῦ ἐγένετο,
καὶ χωρὶς αὐτοῦ ἐγένετο οὐδὲ ἕν.
ὃ γέγονεν 4 ἐν αὐτῷ ζωὴ ἦν,
καὶ ἡ ζωὴ ἦν τὸ φῶς τῶν ἀνθρώπων:
5 καὶ τὸ φῶς ἐν τῇσκοτίᾳ φαίνει,
καὶ ἡ σκοτία αὐτὸ οὐ κατέλαβεν.

6 Ἐγένετο ἄνθρωποςἀπεσταλμένος παρὰ θεοῦ, ὄνομα αὐτῷ Ἰωάννης: 7 οὗτος ἦλθεν εἰς μαρτυρίαν, ἵναμαρτυρήσῃ περὶ τοῦ φωτός, ἵνα πάντες πιστεύσωσιν δι' αὐτοῦ. 8 οὐκ ἦν ἐκεῖνος τὸφῶς, ἀλλ' ἵνα μαρτυρήσῃ περὶ τοῦ φωτός. 9 ην τὸ φῶς τὸ ἀληθινόν, ὃ φωτίζειπάντα ἄνθρωπον, ἐρχόμενον εἰς τὸν κόσμον.

10 ἐν τῷ κόσμῳ ἦν,
καὶ ὁ κόσμος δι'αὐτοῦ ἐγένετο,
καὶ ὁ κόσμος αὐτὸν οὐκ ἔγνω.
11 εἰς τὰ ἴδια ἦλθεν,
καὶ οἱ ἴδιοι αὐτὸνοὐ παρέλαβον.

12 ὅσοι δὲ ἔλαβον αὐτόν, ἔδωκεν αὐτοῖς ἐξουσίαν τέκνα θεοῦγενέσθαι, τοῖς πιστεύουσιν εἰς τὸ ὄνομα αὐτοῦ, 13 οἳ οὐκ ἐξ αἱμάτων οὐδὲ ἐκθελήματος σαρκὸς οὐδὲ ἐκ θελήματος ἀνδρὸς ἀλλ' ἐκ θεοῦ ἐγεννήθησαν.

14 Καὶ ὁ λόγος σὰρξ ἐγένετο
καὶ ἐσκήνωσεν ἐν ἡμῖν,
καὶ ἐθεασάμεθα τὴν δόξαν αὐτοῦ,
δόξαν ὡς μονογενοῦς παρὰ πατρός,
πλήρης χάριτος καὶ ἀληθείας.

1 In the beginning was the Word,
and the Word was with God,
and the Word was God.
2 He was in the beginning with God.
3 All things came into being through him,
and without him not one thing came into being.
What has come into being 4 in him was life,
and the life was the light of all people.
5 The light shines in the darkness,
and the darkness did not overcome it.

6 There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. 7 He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. 8 He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light. 9 The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world.

10 He was in the world,
and the world came into being through him;
yet the world did not know him.
11 He came to what was his own,
and his own people did not accept him.

12 But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God, 13 who were born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God.

14 And the Word became flesh
and lived among us,
and we have seen his glory,
the glory as of a father’s only son,
full of grace and truth.

A relief sculpture of Saint John ... one of a series in Pugin’s font in Saint Chad’s Roman Catholic Cathedral in Birmingham with the symbols of the four evangelists (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2015)

In art, Saint John the Evangelist is frequently represented as an Eagle, symbolising the heights to which he rises in the first chapter of his Gospel.

Secondly, I am constantly overwhelmed and in awe of the emphasis on love and light throughout the Johannine letters, whether or not you argue that the author of the Fourth Gospel is also the author of I John, or even of II John and II John.

That emphasis on love, which informs the story of Saint John’s last days I told earlier, is brought through in the first of the Johannine letters (I John 5: 1-5, 13-21):

1 Πᾶς ὁ πιστεύων ὅτι Ἰησοῦς ἐστιν ὁ Χριστὸς ἐκ τοῦ θεοῦ γεγέννηται, καὶ πᾶς ὁ ἀγαπῶν τὸν γεννήσαντα ἀγαπᾷ [καὶ] τὸν γεγεννημένον ἐξ αὐτοῦ. 2 ἐν τούτῳ γινώσκομεν ὅτι ἀγαπῶμεν τὰ τέκνα τοῦ θεοῦ, ὅταν τὸν θεὸν ἀγαπῶμεν καὶ τὰς ἐντολὰς αὐτοῦ ποιῶμεν. 3 αὕτη γάρ ἐστιν ἡ ἀγάπη τοῦ θεοῦ, ἵνα τὰς ἐντολὰς αὐτοῦ τηρῶμεν: καὶ αἱ ἐντολαὶ αὐτοῦ βαρεῖαι οὐκ εἰσίν, 4 ὅτι πᾶν τὸ γεγεννημένον ἐκ τοῦ θεοῦ νικᾷ τὸν κόσμον: καὶ αὕτη ἐστὶν ἡ νίκη ἡ νικήσασα τὸν κόσμον, ἡ πίστις ἡμῶν. 5 τίς [δέ] ἐστιν ὁ νικῶν τὸν κόσμον εἰ μὴ ὁ πιστεύων ὅτι Ἰησοῦς ἐστιν ὁ υἱὸς τοῦ θεοῦ;

13 Ταῦτα ἔγραψα ὑμῖν ἵνα εἰδῆτε ὅτι ζωὴν ἔχετε αἰώνιον, τοῖς πιστεύουσιν εἰς τὸ ὄνομα τοῦ υἱοῦ τοῦ θεοῦ.

14 καὶ αὕτη ἐστὶν ἡ παρρησία ἣν ἔχομεν πρὸς αὐτόν, ὅτι ἐάν τι αἰτώμεθα κατὰ τὸ θέλημα αὐτοῦ ἀκούει ἡμῶν. 15 καὶ ἐὰν οἴδαμεν ὅτι ἀκούει ἡμῶν ὃ ἐὰν αἰτώμεθα, οἴδαμεν ὅτι ἔχομεν τὰ αἰτήματα ἃ ᾐτήκαμεν ἀπ' αὐτοῦ. 16 Ἐάν τις ἴδῃ τὸν ἀδελφὸν αὐτοῦ ἁμαρτάνοντα ἁμαρτίαν μὴ πρὸς θάνατον, αἰτήσει, καὶ δώσει αὐτῷ ζωήν, τοῖς ἁμαρτάνουσιν μὴ πρὸς θάνατον. ἔστιν ἁμαρτία πρὸς θάνατον: οὐ περὶ ἐκείνης λέγω ἵνα ἐρωτήσῃ. 17 πᾶσα ἀδικία ἁμαρτία ἐστίν, καὶ ἔστιν ἁμαρτία οὐ πρὸς θάνατον.

18 Οἴδαμεν ὅτι πᾶς ὁ γεγεννημένος ἐκ τοῦ θεοῦ οὐχ ἁμαρτάνει, ἀλλ' ὁ γεννηθεὶς ἐκ τοῦ θεοῦ τηρεῖ αὐτόν, καὶ ὁ πονηρὸς οὐχ ἅπτεται αὐτοῦ. 19 οἴδαμεν ὅτι ἐκ τοῦ θεοῦ ἐσμεν, καὶ ὁ κόσμος ὅλος ἐν τῷ πονηρῷ κεῖται. 20 οἴδαμεν δὲ ὅτι ὁ υἱὸς τοῦ θεοῦ ἥκει, καὶ δέδωκεν ἡμῖν διάνοιαν ἵνα γινώσκωμεν τὸν ἀληθινόν: καὶ ἐσμὲν ἐν τῷ ἀληθινῷ, ἐν τῷ υἱῷ αὐτοῦ Ἰησοῦ Χριστῷ. οὗτός ἐστιν ὁ ἀληθινὸς θεὸς καὶ ζωὴ αἰώνιος.

21 Τεκνία, φυλάξατε ἑαυτὰ ἀπὸ τῶν εἰδώλων.

1 Everyone who believes that Jesus is the Christ has been born of God, and everyone who loves the parent loves the child. 2 By this we know that we love the children of God, when we love God and obey his commandments. 3 For the love of God is this, that we obey his commandments. And his commandments are not burdensome, 4 for whatever is born of God conquers the world. And this is the victory that conquers the world, our faith. 5 Who is it that conquers the world but the one who believes that Jesus is the Son of God?

13 I write these things to you who believe in the name of the Son of God, so that you may know that you have eternal life.

14 And this is the boldness we have in him, that if we ask anything according to his will, he hears us. 15 And if we know that he hears us in whatever we ask, we know that we have obtained the requests made of him. 16 If you see your brother or sister committing what is not a mortal sin, you will ask, and God will give life to such a one—to those whose sin is not mortal. There is sin that is mortal; I do not say that you should pray about that. 17 All wrongdoing is sin, but there is sin that is not mortal.

18 We know that those who are born of God do not sin, but the one who was born of God protects them, and the evil one does not touch them. 19 We know that we are God’s children, and that the whole world lies under the power of the evil one. 20 And we know that the Son of God has come and has given us understanding so that we may know him who is true; and we are in him who is true, in his Son Jesus Christ. He is the true God and eternal life.

21 Little children, keep yourselves from idols.

A street sign in Gowran, Co Kilkenny (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Collect:

Merciful Lord,
cast your bright beams of light upon the Church;
that, being enlightened by the teaching
of your blessed apostle and evangelist Saint John,
we may so walk in the light of your truth
that we may at last attain to the light of everlasting life
through Jesus Christ your incarnate Son our Lord.

Post Communion Prayer:

Grant, O Lord, we pray,
that the Word made flesh proclaimed by your apostle John
may ever abide and live within us;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Saint John’s Close ... a street sign in Lichfield (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

(Revd Canon Professor) Patrick Comerford is lecturer in Anglicanism, Liturgy and Church History, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute. These notes were prepared for a discussion in a tutorial group with MTh students on Wednesday 9 December 2015.

Reflections on prayers as we prepare for Advent

King’s College Chapel, Cambridge … Eric Milner-White introduced the now-traditional Service of Nine Lessons and Carols in 1918 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2015)

Patrick Comerford

I am leading Morning Prayer this morning, and I have decided to use a version ‘Prayer during the Day,’ adapted from Time to Pray, first published in 2006 for the Church of England in the Common Worship series by Church House Publishing.

This morning’s adaptation is prepared for use from All Saints’ Day [1 November] until tomorrow [28 November 2015], which is the Day before the First Sunday of Advent.

The notes point out that this “period is observed as a time of celebration and reflection on the reign of Christ in earth and in heaven.

The order offers as an alternative to the Collect of the Day the following prayer:

Bring us, O Lord God, at our last awakening
into the house and gate of heaven,
to enter that gate and dwell in that house, where there shall be no darkness nor dazzling,
but one equal light;
no noise nor silence, but one equal music;
no fears nor hopes, but one equal possession;
no ends or beginnings, but one equal eternity;
in the habitations of your glory and dominion,
world without end.

This prayer was written in 1963, a year before his death, by Eric Milner-White (1884-1964), and is based on words by the poet John Donne (1572-1631) in a sermon preached at Whitehall on 29 February 1627. These words have also been provided with choral settings by many composers, including Peter R. Hallock and William Harris.

In his sermon, John Donne speaks of the righteous, and tells his hearers that “They shall awake as Jacob did, and say as Jacob said, Surely the Lord is in this place, and this is no other but the house of God, and the gate of heaven, And into that gate they shall enter, and in that house they shall dwell …”

Milner-White is faithful to Donne’s words, omitting only a couple of phrases, one of which speaks of having “‘no foes nor friends, but an equall communion and Identity.”

John Donne was born a Roman Catholic, but had conformed to the Church of England by 1598, and he was ordained, albeit reluctantly, in 1615 at the express urging of King James I. He was a favourite of both James I and of his son Charles I, and is known both as a preacher and a poet.

In this prayer, Donne’s expression of the inexpressible invites the hearer to consider the reality of the heavenly realm in a number of specific ways without removing the element of mystery. His prayer offers a rich way of meditating on our ultimate calling.

In his prayer book, My God My Glory (1954), Eric Milner-White drew on scriptural and patristic references, and his influences include sources are drawn from early liturgy, architecture and Augustine to Traherne, Vaughan and Caussade. He says John Donne “has an unparalleled power of kindling the vision which turns into prayer.”

Eric Milner Milner-White (1884-1963) read history at King’s College, Cambridge and graduated in 1906 with a double-first as well as receiving the Lightfoot Scholarship. After theological training at Cuddesdon College, Oxford, he was ordained deacon in 1908 and priest in 1909 at Southwark Cathedral. He was a curate in Saint Paul’s, Newington, and Saint Mary Magdalen, Woolwich, before returning to King’s College, Cambridge, as chaplain in 1912, and also became a lecturer in history at Corpus Christi College, Cambridge.

During World War I, he was an army chaplain on the Western Front and in the Italian Campaign. On resigning his commission, he returned to Cambridge, where he became the Dean and a Fellow of King’s College.

In 1941, Milner-White was appointed Dean of York. There he directed the replacement of many of York Minster’s windows and wrote extensively on liturgy, including My God My Glory, and was a member of the team that produced the New English Bible.

He died in the deanery at York Minster on 15 June 1963.

He is best remembered by many today because while he was Dean of King’s College, Milner-White introduced the Service of Nine Lessons and Carols. His experience as an army chaplain led him to believe that more imaginative worship was needed by the Church of England, and the first Festival of Nine Lessons and Carols at King’s was held on Christmas Eve 1918. The order of service was adapted from the order created by Edward Benson, later Archbishop of Canterbury, for Truro Cathedral on Christmas Eve 1880.

That first service at King’s largely followed Benson’s original plan, including the Benedictions before each reading, several of which were later amalgamated by Milner-White into his Bidding Prayer.

The service was first broadcast from King’s by the BBC in 1928 and, except for 1930, has been broadcast every year since. Even throughout World War II, despite the stained glass having been removed from the Chapel at King’s and the lack of heating, the broadcasts continued.

Since World War II, it has been estimated that each year millions of listeners worldwide listen to the service live on the BBC.

The bidding prayer, adapted by Eric Milner-White and now in use in King’s Chapel prays:

Beloved in Christ, be it this Christmas Eve our care and delight to prepare ourselves to hear again the message of the angels; in heart and mind to go even unto Bethlehem and see this thing which is come to pass, and the Babe lying in a manger.

Let us read and mark in Holy Scripture the tale of the loving purposes of God from the first days of our disobedience unto the glorious Redemption brought us by this Holy Child; and let us make this Chapel, dedicated to Mary, his most blessèd Mother, glad with our carols of praise:

But first let us pray for the needs of his whole world; for peace and goodwill over all the earth; for unity and brotherhood within the Church he came to build, and especially in the dominions of our sovereign lady Queen Elizabeth, within this University and City of Cambridge, and in the two royal and religious Foundations of King Henry VI here and at Eton:

And because this of all things would rejoice his heart, let us at this time remember in his name the poor and the helpless, the cold, the hungry and the oppressed; the sick in body and in mind and them that mourn; the lonely and the unloved; the aged and the little children; all who know not the Lord Jesus, or who love him not, or who by sin have grieved his heart of love.

Lastly let us remember before God all those who rejoice with us, but upon another shore and in a greater light, that multitude which no man can number, whose hope was in the Word made flesh, and with whom, in this Lord Jesus, we for evermore are one.

These prayers and praises let us humbly offer up to the throne of heaven, in the words which Christ himself hath taught us:

Our Father …

The Chapel of King’s College, Cambridge (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2015)

Two Cambridge college chapels on the Pugin trail and with Irish links

The cloisters beside the Chapel of Jesus College, Cambridge, survive from Benedictine convent of Saint Radegund (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2015)

Patrick Comerford

During my visit to Westcott House in Cambridge last week, I naturally visited Sidney Sussex College, which is separated from Westcott by Malcolm Street, and in my search for the Cambridge works of Eric Gill I also visited both Jesus College, which is a across Jesus Lane from Westcott House, and Saint John’s College, where Gill’s works can be seen at the chapel and in Chapel Court.

But at different times during the week I also found myself visiting the chapels of Jesus College and Emmanuel College, and found myself once again on the trail of the architectural heritage of two great 19th century Gothic revival architects, AWN Pugin and GF Bodley.

The Chapel of Jesus College has been used for worship since the 12th century. It is open during the day for prayer and quietness, and all members of the college community are made welcome. The two choirs enrich the worship of the chapel, and can be heard at evensong four times a week.

The chapel at Jesus College is the oldest college chapel in Cambridge. It is unique in that it was not originally designed as a college chapel: it predates the foundation of the college by three and a half centuries, and the university by more than half a century.

The chapel was originally a large Norman church dedicated to Saint Mary and served the 12th century Benedictine convent of Saint Radegund. This explains why the chapel, like that of the cloisters that surround it, has a conventual rather than a collegiate character. It also served as the church of the parish of Saint Radegund which grew up around the convent, which was at that time a semi-rural area just outside Cambridge.

The church took about a century to build. Building began ca 1157 and was completed ca 1245. It was of cathedrals dimensions and proportions and became the largest church in Cambridge. It was in the shape of a cross, with a high pitched roof, and surmounted by a belfry or steeple that was visible for miles.

The belfry collapsed at different times, devastating fires destroyed much of the surrounding convent and eventually the church itself fell into disrepair because of the convent’s poverty.

The convent of Saint Radegund was dissolved in 1496 by John Alcock, Bishop of Ely, and a new college was founded in its place. The conventual church of Saint Mary was rededicated to the name of Jesus, part of the church was demolished and the remaining portion was drastically modified.

Alcock designed many of the alterations to create a chapel for his new college, and the rebuilding took considerable time, continuing long after his death. Two-thirds of what had been the nave of the church were replaced by college rooms, which later became part of the eastern wing of the Master’s Lodge, and the chapels on the north and south sides of the choir were pulled down and the northern aisles became part of the cloister.

For a time after Saint Mary’s Church became the chapel of Jesus College, it continued to serve as the church of the parish, and was used for baptisms and marriages, which Jesus Churchyard was used for burials.

Part of the churchyard later formed the Master’s Garden, parts later became known as Fair Close, and later the rest of the old churchyard became the fellows’ garden and the orchard.

In the early 17th century, the college was known as a stronghold of the High Church party in the university and sympathetic to the views of the Caroline Divines, and the chapel services were renowned for “good music, elaborate solemnity and attractive decency.” During the English Civil War, the Master, Richard Sterne, and the former Master, William Beale, were arrested by Cromwell in the course of a service in the chapel and taken to the Tower of London, the chapel organ was taken to pieces and the remaining college plate was buried in the orchard.

At the Restoration, the interior of the chapel was repaired and restored to its former beauty, the organ was rebuilt and reinstated, the chapel was paved with black and white marble and a gallery was built in the chancel.

The tower in the Chapel of Jesus College was strengthened with repairs carried out on the advice of Augustus Pugin (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2015)

Inspired by the new spirit of the Gothic revival, major new restoration work was carried out in the chapel in 1846-1849. The aim was to restore the ritual as well as the architecture of the chapel, and to restore the musical traditional of the chapel services with a new organ and the reinstatement of the choir.

The tower was strengthened with repairs carried out on the advice of Augustus Pugin, who was a close friend of John Sutton, a college fellow who was deeply involved in the restoration of the chapel.

Pugin had come down to Cambridge to take the measurements for the organ chamber and on Sutton’s recommendation the college also employed Pugin to direct the continuing programme of the restoration of the chapel.

Pugin replaced Alcock’s Perpendicular east window with three tall lancet windows (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2015)

In the north transept, Norman windows embedded in the north wall were rediscovered. They were preserved as recessed arches and the whole wall was restored. New stalls and a new pavement were also supplied for the chancel. Pugin removed both 18th century plaster ceiling and Alcock’s low-pitched roof which he replaced by a high-pitched roof, in a 13th century style.

Pugin also rebuilt the choir stalls and the east wall and removed Alcock’s Perpendicular east window, replacing it with three tall lancet windows – archaeological evidence had shown that that this was the original form that the windows had taken.

Pugin installed stained glass windows of his own design in 1850 and the other windows were later glazed, in the same style, between 1850 and 1858. The new organ was installed in the organ chamber and on All Saints’ Day 1849 the chapel was re-opened with a full choral service.

Cracks began to appear in the arches and piers of the tower in 1662, and further repairs were carried out in 1864-1867 by George F. Bodley, who was also working simultaneously on All Saints’ Church, opposite the entrance to the college. A later Vicar of All Saints was Joseph Armitage Robinson (1858-1933), who was the vicar in 1888-1892, and for a brief period Robinson’s brother, Forbes Robinson (1867-1904), was his curate at All Saints (1891-1892).

The decorations for Pugin’s ceilings in the nave and the tower in the chapel of Jesus College were designed by William Morris (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2015)

The decorations for the newly-panelled ceilings of the nave and the tower in chapel of Jesus College were designed by William Morris and painted under his direction in 1867. In 1873-1877, the windows in the nave and transepts of the chapel were glazed by Morris and Company from designs by Edward Burne-Jones and Ford Madox Brown.

By the end of the 19th century, the chapel had attained its present proportions and appearance, in which the Norman original, together with Early English, Decorated and Perpendicular elements, James Essex’s 18th century cloisters and Pugin’s and Burne-Jones’ 19th century restorations combine to form this remarkable building.

The gallery was removed in the early 20th century, but may still be seen in the chapel of Westcott House.

The chapel in Emmanuel College is an early work of Sir Christopher Wren (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2015)

During the week, I also visited the Chapel in Emmanuel College, where the choir was rehearsing in advance of Evensong. The prominent central position of this chapel is a reminder of the original religious dimension to life in this college.

The Chapel, along with the cloisters outside and the gallery above, is an early work by Sir Christopher Wren. Indeed, this is the third place in the college to be used as a permanent place of worship.

The Dominican friars, also known as the Blackfriars, occupied the site before Emmanuel College was founded, and they used what is now the Hall as their church. When Sir Walter Mildmay founded Emmanuel in 1584, the friary buildings were in a semi-ruined state. The church walls were restored and a roof put on to make the hall for the new college. Another monastic building was put to use as the chapel – this is now know as the Old Library, and it served as the chapel until the present building was completed in 1677.

The moving force behind building a new chapel was William Sancroft (1617-1693) who became Master after the restoration of Charles II in 1660. He commissioned Wren and campaigned to raise the money to pay for the building, contributing generously out of his own resources. He left Emmanuel to become Dean of Saint Paul’s Cathedral after only two years, but retained a keen interest in the project, even when he later became Archbishop of Canterbury.

The original glass in the windows were plain, but current windows were added as part of a programme of restoration to mark the tercentenary of Emmanuel College in 1884.

The present stained glass is the work of Heaton, Butler, and Bayne and was completed in 1884 as part of the commemoration of the College’s tercentenary. This partnership also designed stained glass windows in a number of parish churches in the Church of Ireland, including Straffan Parish Church, Co Kildare, Saint Bartholomew’s Church, Ballsbridge, Dublin, and the Church of Saint John the Evangelist in Monkstown, Co Cork.

The windows in Emmanuel Chapel were probably designed by Clement John Heaton the younger (1861-1940) but the general scheme of subjects was suggested by the Revd FJA Hort, the Dublin-born New Testament scholar who was a Fellow of Emmanuel College (1872-1892).

Hort was inspired by the windows in the Chapel of Trinity College, planned a decade or so earlier by his friends and colleagues there, BF Westcott and JB Lightfoot. The figures are chosen to illustrate the continuity of the history of the Church, and the special part played in it by members of Emmanuel College.

Archbishop William Sancroft of Canterbury (left) and Bishop William Bedell of Kilmore (right) in a window in the chapel of Emmanuel College, Cambridge (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

One window is shared as a pair by William Sancroft, Master of Emmanuel, who became Archbishop of Canterbury, and William Bedell (1571-1642), a former fellow of Emmanuel College and one of the Caroline Divines, who later became Provost of the University of Dublin and then Bishop of Kilmore.

Hort’s time at Emmanuel overlapped with Canon Forbes Robinson (1867-1904), who the Chaplain of Emmanuel College, Cambridge (1891-1896), and was briefly the curate of All Saints’ Church while his brother, Joseph Armitage Robinson was the vicar. Armitage Robinson is often seen as the heir to Hort’s mantle. The Robinsons’ father, the Revd George Robinson, was born in Co Monaghan, which brings another interesting Irish link to the life of Cambridge college chapels.

Evening lights at the chapel and cloisters of Emmanuel College, Cambridge (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2015)

‘When you hear of wars and rumours of wars … this is but the beginning of the birth pangs’

A typical scene in the European refugee crisis: refugees and migrants in the Mediterranean being rescued by Irish Naval personnel from the ship LÉ Eithne (Photograph: Irish Defence Forces/Anglican Communion News Service/Us)

Patrick Comerford,

Zion Church, Rathgar, Dublin,

Sunday 15 November 2015,

The Second Sunday before Advent

10.30 a.m., Morning Prayer 2.

Readings: Daniel 12: 1-3; Psalm 16; Mark 13: 1-8.

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

Winter has arrived, the evenings are closing in, the nights are getting longer, and the year is coming to an end.

The church seasons are changing too. Advent, which marks a New Year in the Church, begins the Sunday after next [29 November 2015]. Carol services are being planned, Christmas gifts are being wrapped, Christmas cards are being written, and for many places the last posting date for Christmas [4 December 2015] is looming.

In the midst of darkness, there is always hope.

But in the darkness it is also natural that we should think of our greatest fears.

In our Gospel reading this morning, Peter, Andrew, James and John are with Christ on the Mount of Olives, looking across to Jerusalem and the Temple.

But Christ’s entry into Jerusalem is not going to be triumphant, and he warns these four disciples – these four who act almost like Christ’s ‘kitchen cabinet’ in the Gospels – that the future is not going to be all plain sailing.

He talks about false teachers, wars and rumours of wars, nations fighting against nation, earthquakes, famines and natural disasters.

All of us have been shocked by the violence in Paris in the past 36 hours. The attacks in Paris and a few days earlier in Beirut were designed to shake the very foundations of all our societies. They are an assault on our shared humanity, and our tolerance, liberty and respect – the values that ought to underpin the world we share.

In the past week, many of us have been remembering the wars in the last 100 years that threatened not once but twice to destroy Europe. We are still in the middle of the centenary marking World War I, and this year has marked the 70th anniversary of the end of World War II. And we remembered those who fought in both wars and who were promised that these were “wars to end all wars.”

Yet the Anglican suffragan Bishop in Europe, Bishop David Hamid, has said in the past week that the refugee crisis in Europe is the “largest crisis that Europe has had to face since World War II.” He warns that churches, governments and aid and mission agencies need to prepare for a “medium- to long-term situation” to a crisis that is “not going to go away quickly.”

I spent three days in the past week [11-13 November 2015] at a meeting of the Trustees of Us, the Anglican mission agency previously known as USPG or the United Society for the Propagation of the Gospel.

It was a residential meeting in Westcott House, the Anglican theological college in Cambridge. And during those days I heard again and again of the work Us or USPG is doing with refugees throughout Europe.

The UN High Commissioner for Refugees says that so far this year over three quarters of a million refugees and migrants have arrived by boat in Europe. Most of them – around 620,000 – have arrived in Greece; while Italy has received over 140,000 people, Spain almost 3,000 people and Malta over 100.

The UNHCR also says almost 3,500 people have died or gone missing on the journey. Over half the migrants trying to reach Europe come from the Syria, and another one-in-five is from Afghanistan.

“The numbers of people on the move have not been seen for over 70 years,” Bishop David says. This problem is not going to go away soon, he says. “The end won’t be in sight, really, until we resolve the wars and people are able to live in security.”

Even if the wars stop tomorrow, four million Syrian people are living outside Syria and half the remaining people are displaced too, having left their homes, their villages and their towns. Rebuilding the region is a long-term task, and even if the wars ended tomorrow they cannot go home on Tuesday.

Bishop David says the challenge to Churches, governments and agencies in Europe is to work together on short-term responses, and medium to long-term situation.

When people began to appear in the parks and squares in central Athens having come from the ferry boats from the islands, the churches in Athens responded immediately.

Saint Paul’s Anglican Church and the other churches saw the need to co-ordinate their response and have drawn on their own limited resources to reach out together. This response has brought together Anglicans, the Greek Orthodox archdiocese, the Roman Catholic Jesuit refugee service, the Salvation Army, and the Greek Evangelical Church. This is on-the-ground ecumenism in action. Years and years of dialogue are now bearing fruit.

But Bishop David is worried that the rest of Europe fails to see that these people are human beings who deserve basic humanitarian assistance while their status is sorted out.

Christians and churches have a role to play in ensuring the truth of the refugee crisis is told without exaggeration. Bishop David says: “There is often exaggeration in some of the secular media. Sometimes this plays into people’s fear about the foreigner, fears of Islam, and all sorts of fears. I think we need to be clear, as Christians around the world, in making sure the truth is being told about this: that people are fleeing war zones, are fleeing persecution and are needing protection.”

Meanwhile, winter is closing in and threatens to make the sea-crossings even more treacherous for people fleeing war, persecution, and poverty. On one day alone in the past week or two, 22 people drowned in two shipwrecks in the Aegean Sea. On another day, the Greek coastguard rescued 242 refugees whose wooden boat sank north of the island of Lesvos. At least three people drowned, including two small boys.

‘The waves of the Aegean are not just washing up dead refugees, dead children, but [also] the very civilisation of Europe,’ says the Greek Prime Minister (Photograph: Antonio Bronic/Reuters)

Lifeless bodies are washing up on Greek and Turkish shores, including three-year-old Aylan Kurdi, whose death prompted global outrage. The Greek Prime Minister, Alexis Tsipras, says: “The waves of the Aegean are not just washing up dead refugees, dead children, but [also] the very civilisation of Europe.”

The number of refugees arriving in Greece from Turkey has risen in risen week from 4,500 to 7,000 a day. More than 218,000 migrants and refugees arrived in Europe by sea last month [October 2015] – a record for any month and about the same number as the total number who arrived in 2014.

The UNHCR is warning that harsh winter conditions across Europe could lead to “a tragedy at any moment.”

Kate O’Sullivan, who works in Greece with Save the Children, says the winter months could be devastating. “The waves will continue to get higher, the water will get rougher,” she says. “Every time a boat goes down, it always seems to be the children who have drowned. Frankly, I am terrified for what the weather’s going to be like this winter.”

Freezing temperatures, heavy rains, and strong storms have not slowed down the surge of refugees (Photograph: Yannis Behrakis/Reuters)

But freezing temperatures, heavy rains, and strong storms across Europe have not slowed down the surge of refugees. These people were desperate before they ever left. They are desperate now. And they face a winter with little protection from the cold, with no weather-proofing kits, with damaged tents, without winter clothes. They need fuel, unconditional cash, kits, clothes, coal, stoves and blankets.

“The immediate imperative is to provide shelter. It cannot be that in the Europe of 2015 people are left to fend for themselves, sleeping in fields,” Jean-Claude Juncker, the president of the European Commission, says. “Every day counts,” he adds. “Otherwise we will soon see families in cold rivers in the Balkans perish miserably.”

Us has produced prayer cards providing guided reflections for each Sunday during Advent, inviting people to pray for refugees around the world as we light our Advent candles.

An example of the way the Church is responding to this crisis is the decision by the Anglican Diocese in Europe and the Anglican mission agency Us (formerly USPG) to fund an emergency centre for refugees at the remote Pharos Lighthouse on the Greek island of Lesvos.

The refugees arrive cold and wet having crossed 15 km from Turkey, typically making the journey in small rubber boats crowded with up to 50 people each.

Often these dangerous crossings are at night to avoid the Turkish coastguard patrols by day. Attracted by the beam of the lighthouse, they land on the rocky shore, soaked through, tired and hungry. Yet they are still 6 km from the nearest village, Klio, a six-hour walk across rugged, rock-strewn terrain. They need dry clothes, food, medical care and shelter before they can continue their journey to safety.

Local volunteers have been doing what they can to help them. I heard over these past few days how their work is getting a further boost with funding from Us and support from the Anglican chaplaincy in Greece.

Two abandoned buildings next to the lighthouse are being turned into a changing area and a field kitchen. Tents are being provided as shelter and volunteers are working there around the clock, seven days a week, providing food, clothing and medicines. These volunteers have also asked for ropes to help refugees climb up the rocky shores, safety helmets and headgear for the children and babies, wetsuits, night vision binoculars, heaters, lighting and walky-talkies.

Rachel Parry, Us Director for Global Relations, describes this as just one “small but highly significant response that is benefitting hundreds of very vulnerable refugees at a critical stage of their journey.”

The light of the lighthouse on Lesvos can lead the fleeing refugees to either a perilous end on the rocky shore or to hope for the future provided by these volunteers.

I listened to those stories in Cambridge over the past few days, those stories of Us and how the Diocese in Europe are trying to be lights of hope in this dismal, dark winter.

There is a real danger that because of the violence this weekend, the very people who are fleeing the violence of ISIS in Syria and their allies in the Middle East, will become their victims yet again, being blamed for violence perpetrated by people who are their very oppressors.

But despite all that is happening, there is hope. And we can be beacons of hope. We can show in how we live our life this coming Advent that we believe, that we want, good to triumph over evil, and to show that the Light of Christ shines in our hearts.

Throughout Advent this year, Us is appealing for donations to fund the Diocese in Europe as it reaches out to refugees arriving throughout Europe, and the Diocese in Europe has asked Us to be the official agency for Anglican churches on these islands to channel donations for its work.

The Advent candles on the Advent wreath represent the Patriarchs, the Prophets, John the Baptist, and the Virgin Mary, all pointing to Christ in the midst of darkness, despite the disasters of famines, earthquakes and wars.

Despite all this, there is hope. And we can be beacons of hope. We can show in how we live our life this coming Advent that we believe, that we want, good to triumph over evil, and to show that the Light of Christ shines in our hearts.

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

(Revd Canon Professor) Patrick Comerford lectures in the Church of Ireland Theological Institute. This sermon was preached at Morning Prayer in Zion Parish Church, Rathgar, on 15 November 2015.

Where can the refugees find the lights of hope across Europe this winter? (Photograph: Picasa/Kate O'Sullivan/Save the Children)

Collect:

Heavenly Father,
whose blessed Son was revealed to destroy the works of the devil
and to make us the children of God and heirs of eternal life:
Grant that we, having this hope,
may purify ourselves even as he is pure;
that when he shall appear in power and great glory,
we may be made like him
in his eternal and glorious kingdom;
where he is alive and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.

Post Communion Prayer:

Gracious Lord,
in this holy sacrament you give substance to our hope.
Bring us at the last to that pure life for which we long,
through Jesus Christ our Saviour.

Mark 13: 1-8

1 Καὶ ἐκπορευομένου αὐτοῦ ἐκ τοῦ ἱεροῦ λέγει αὐτῷ εἷς τῶν μαθητῶν αὐτοῦ, Διδάσκαλε, ἴδε ποταποὶ λίθοι καὶ ποταπαὶ οἰκοδομαί. 2 καὶ ὁ Ἰησοῦς εἶπεν αὐτῷ, Βλέπεις ταύτας τὰς μεγάλας οἰκοδομάς; οὐ μὴ ἀφεθῇ ὧδε λίθος ἐπὶ λίθον ὃς οὐ μὴ καταλυθῇ.

3 Καὶ καθημένου αὐτοῦ εἰς τὸ Ὄρος τῶν Ἐλαιῶν κατέναντι τοῦ ἱεροῦ ἐπηρώτα αὐτὸν κατ' ἰδίαν Πέτρος καὶ Ἰάκωβος καὶ Ἰωάννης καὶ Ἀνδρέας, 4 Εἰπὸν ἡμῖν πότε ταῦτα ἔσται, καὶ τί τὸ σημεῖον ὅταν μέλλῃ ταῦτα συντελεῖσθαι πάντα. 5 ὁ δὲ Ἰησοῦς ἤρξατο λέγειν αὐτοῖς, Βλέπετε μή τις ὑμᾶς πλανήσῃ: 6 πολλοὶ ἐλεύσονται ἐπὶ τῷ ὀνόματί μου λέγοντες ὅτι Ἐγώ εἰμι, καὶ πολλοὺς πλανήσουσιν. 7 ὅταν δὲ ἀκούσητε πολέμους καὶ ἀκοὰς πολέμων, μὴ θροεῖσθε: δεῖ γενέσθαι, ἀλλ' οὔπω τὸ τέλος. 8 ἐγερθήσεται γὰρ ἔθνος ἐπ' ἔθνος καὶ βασιλεία ἐπὶ βασιλείαν, ἔσονται σεισμοὶ κατὰ τόπους, ἔσονται λιμοί: ἀρχὴ ὠδίνων ταῦτα.

1 As he came out of the temple, one of his disciples said to him, ‘Look, Teacher, what large stones and what large buildings!’ 2 Then Jesus asked him, ‘Do you see these great buildings? Not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down.’

3 When he was sitting on the Mount of Olives opposite the temple, Peter, James, John, and Andrew asked him privately, 4 ‘Tell us, when will this be, and what will be the sign that all these things are about to be accomplished?’ 5 Then Jesus began to say to them, ‘Beware that no one leads you astray. 6 Many will come in my name and say, “I am he!” and they will lead many astray. 7 When you hear of wars and rumours of wars, do not be alarmed; this must take place, but the end is still to come. 8 For nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will be earthquakes in various places; there will be famines. This is but the beginning of the birth pangs.

In search of Eric Gill’s stonework in the colleges and streets of Cambridge

Eric Gill’s bold relief lettering carved in the Ham Hill stone above the front entrance to Westcott House in Jesus Lane, Cambridge (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2015)

Patrick Comerford

Eric Gill (1882-1940) has been described as the colossus of inter-war drawing, printmaking, stone-carving and lettering design. He worked as a calligrapher, letter-cutter and monumental mason, and later he became a well-known sculptor and letter carver, and gives his name to the typeface Gill Sans.

Earlier this week [11 November 2015], I was writing about Gill and his War Memorial in Trumpington, a village on the edges of Cambridge. Now, each day over the past three days or so, I have passed under Gill’s bold relief lettering in the Ham Hill stone of the front entrance to Westcott House in Jesus Lane. I have been have been there this week at a residential meeting of the trustees of Us, the Anglican mission agency formerly known as USPG (the United Society for the Propagation of the Gospel).

Cambridge has been described as a feast of the stone-cut lettering and carving from Gill’s chisel of Gill. During the week, I have heard about the location a number of his other works in Cambridge, and so I went in search of some of them.

Eric Gill’s plaque commemorating Henry Arthur Morgan in the Chapel of Jesus College, Cambridge (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2015)

Across the road from Westcott House on Jesus Lane, there are at least two works by Eric Gill in Jesus College.

One is a fine plaque in the north wall of the chancel in the chapel commemorating the Revd Dr Henry Arthur Morgan, a former student, fellow, tutor (1863-1885) and then Master of Jesus College (1885-1912), who died in 1912.

Morgan’s energy and enterprise were primarily responsible for the 19th century transformation of Jesus College. He was quick to recognise the growing demand for university education among the expanding Victorian professional and middle classes. Both Cambridge and Oxford were slow and reluctant in responding by widening their curriculum and allowing more teaching posts to be held by married lay academics rather than celibate Anglican priests.

Morgan made the best of the opportunities presented by the spacious grounds of Jesus College and its increasing wealth from railway developments and the way Cambridge was spreading into the surrounding that had been inherited by Jesus College.

By 1871, Morgan had quadrupled the number of students, and doubled the accommodation available for them. By 1881 there were seven times as many students as there had been 20 years earlier, many attracted by Jesus College’s sporting reputation and fame.

Eric Gill’s coat-of-arms of Bishop Leonard White-Thomson in Jesus College, Cambridge (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2015)

Behind the chapel, Cloister Court leads into Chapel Court, where Gill carved over the Angel Archway the strikingly sensual coat-of-arms of Leonard White-Thomson (1863-1933), who as Bishop of Ely (1924-1933) was the Visitor of Jesus College.

This work, Deus Providebit, is named after the bishop’s motto carved with Gill’s unmistakable lettering, and dates from 1930, three years before Bishop White-Thomson died. Appropriately, the bishop’s arms are supported by two angels, but their naked posture now draws attention to the questions raised in recent years about Gill’s lifestyle.

Eric Gill’s coat-of-arms of Bishop John Fisher in Saint John’s College, Cambridge (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2015)

A short walk away, in Saint John’s College, the coat of arms of Bishop John Fisher forms the keystone of the archway that leads from Chapel Court into North Court. They were designed and carved by Eric Gill, and feature prominently in Sir Edward Maufe’s design of Chapel Court, North Court and the Forecourt.

Once again, however, they are supported by two naked angels, whose pubescent bodies should have raised further questions about Gill’s sexual obsessions.

Eric Gill’s carving of the symbol of Saint John on the keystone of the central arch of the Chapel Court cloister in Saint John’s College, Cambridge (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2015)

Further works by Eric Gill can be seen around the courts of Saint John’s. They include his now slightly-blackened carving of the poison chalice with the serpent, the symbol of Saint John on the keystone of the central arch of the Chapel Court cloister, and the eagle and marguerite carved on the keystone of the central arch leading from the Forecourt.

The eagle represents Saint John the Divine, who gives his name to Saint John’s College, and the daisy or marguerite is an heraldic pun on the name of Lady Margaret Beaufort, the founder of both Saint John’s College and Christ’s College. Bishop John Fisher was her executor, and statues of these founding figure stand on each side of the entrance to the chapel.

Eric Gill’s ‘Crocodile’ on the Mond Building in Cambridge (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2015)

Perhaps Gill’s best known work in Cambridge is his Crocodile on the Mond Building, which I reached on Thursday afternoon through the Old Cavendish Arch on Free School Lane, behind Saint Bene’t’s Church and Corpus Christi College. The Crocodile is said to have been the nickname of the physicist Lord Rutherford (1871-1937), who was director of the original Cavendish Laboratory when it stood on this site. Rutherford received the Nobel Prize in 1908 for his work on radioactivity and later became known as the Father of Nuclear Physics.

The preening eye can pick out the initials EG in the jaws of Gill’s Crocodile on the Mond Building (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2015)

The crocodile was commissioned by the Nobel physicist Pyotr Kapitsa (1894-1984), who worked for over 10 years with Rutherford in the Cavendish Laboratory and was the first director of the Mond Laboratory (1930–1934). Gill seldom signed his work, but looking carefully in the fading twilight at his crocodile on the Mond Laboratory I could see in the bricks as it opens its smiling jaws that it is swallowing a monogram of Gill’s delicately traced initials, EG.

A blackened stone under an oriel window in Downing Street has Gill’s first-ever stone-cut inscription (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2015)

Further on, Downing Street leads from Emmanuel College to Pembroke Street. On the facade of the Zoological Laboratory, under an oriel window facing down Tennis Court Road, a blackened stone is carved with Gill’s first-ever stone-cut inscription, dating from 1903.

It is so high and so blackened that it is difficult to read Louis Pasteur’s words: Dans les champs de l’observation le hasard ne favorise que les esprits prepares, “Where observation is concerned, chance favours only the prepared mind.”

Louis Pasteur’s words are so blackened that it is difficult to read Gill’s first-ever stone-cut inscription, dating from 1903 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2015)

There are other works by Gill to see in Cambridge. In the Roman Catholic Chaplaincy at Fisher House, there is a fine stone in memory of Percy Hetherington Fitzgerald (1834-1925), the Irish critic, journalist and sculptor, whose work includes the statue of Samuel Johnson in The Strand, London, and the statue of James Boswell to the Market Square in Lichfield.

Fitzgerald was from Dundalk, Co Louth, and the biographer of Charles Dickens. He was buried in Glasnevin, Dublin, following a Funeral Mass in Westminster Cathedral. His bequests included £5,000 to the Cambridge University Catholic Association.

I did not get to see Gill’s memorial, unveiled a year after Fitzgerald’s death, but the inscription in Roman lettering on Hoptonwood reads: In plan; et per petuam memoriam PERCY FITZGERALD, A.D. VIII KAL. DEC. MCMXXV. Defuncti quo legante Reverendissimis autem dominis Archiepiscopo Cardinali IV es tni o nasteriensi Episcopo Northantoniensi Episcopo Pellensi cum Guidone Ellis aclministrantibus pecuniae Amplissimae hujus sodalitatis Catholicae Cantabrigiensium necessitatibus subvenerunt Pro cujus anima requiem qui legis precator.

A circular pond in Newnham College is said to commemorate the benefaction of Henry Sidgwick. And in the garden of a private house in Cambridge some years ago, Eric Marland, the Cambridge-based letter carver, claims to have discovered or rediscovered a supposedly lost Gill ashtray, weighing 60 kg or more – heavy enough to stop it being moved.

Perhaps there are even more works by Gill to find in Cambridge. But I may have to wait until next year before I return and find them.