Showing posts with label Christmas 2009. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Christmas 2009. Show all posts

01 January 2010

In the bleak midwinter … snow had fallen, snow on snow

Snow had fallen, snow on snow ... outside my house in the early hours of New Year’s Day, 2010 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2010)

Patrick Comerford

The snow began falling shortly after 11 p.m. last night as I walked a few hundred metres to the home of some friends and neighbours to ring in the New Year.

As I headed back home around 2.30 a.m., everything was covered in a blanket of snow. Public transport came to a standstill in Dublin this morning, with only a limited service this afternoon. Part of the M50 was closed throughout the morning, taxis have been cancelled in many areas, and flights out of Dublin Airport were grounded for hours. And so I wonder whether I am going to catch a flight tomorrow morning.

But I’m also thinking of Christina Rossetti’s poem, In the Bleak Midwinter, published posthumously in her Poetic Works in 1904, ten years after her death. It was republished in The English Hymnal in 1906 with a setting by Gustav Holst, and it quickly became a popular Christmas carol.

Harold Edwin Darke’s 1911 setting for this carol, with its beautiful and delicate organ accompaniment, became popular among choirs after it was included it in the BBC broadcasts of the Service of Nine Lessons and Carols by the Choir of King’s College, Cambridge, of which he had once been the conductor.

In the bleak midwinter ... snow outside my house in the early hours of New Year’s Day, 2010 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2010)

In the bleak midwinter (Irish Church Hymnal, 162):

In the bleak midwinter
frosty wind made moan,
earth stood hard as iron,
water like a stone:
snow had fallen, snow on snow,
snow on snow,
in the bleak midwinter,
long ago.

Our God, heav’n cannot hold him,
nor earth sustain;
heav’n and earth shall flee away
when he comes to reign:
in the bleak midwinter
a stable place sufficed
the Lord God almighty,
Jesus Christ.

Enough for him, whom cherubim
worship night and day,
a breast full of milk
and a manger-ful of hay;
enough for him, whom angels
fall down before,
the ox and ass and camel
which adore.

Angels and archangels
May have gathered there,
cherubim and seraphim
thronged the air;
but his mother only,
in her maiden bliss,
worshipped the beloved
with a kiss.

What can I give him,
poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd,
I would bring a lamb;
if I were a wise man
I would do my part;
yet what I can I give him —
give my heart.

Listen to the Choir of Lichfield Cathedral singing In the bleak midwinter here

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

26 December 2009

Please call this Saint Stephen’s Day

An icon of Saint Stephen, the first deacon and the martyr

Patrick Comerford

I find it hard to call today “Boxing Day.” I suppose for many Dubliners, this day is always going to be “Stevenses Day.” But for me, 26 December is always going to be Saint Stephen’s Day.

Stephen is a family name: my grandfather, father, eldest brother and a nephew were baptised Stephen. But my reasons for insisting on retaining the name of Saint Stephen’s Day is not some quirky genealogical sentimentality or some displaced filial loyalty.

It is theologically important to remind ourselves on the day after Christmas Day of the important link between the Incarnation and bearing witness to the Resurrection faith.

Saint Stephen the Deacon is the Protomartyr of Christianity. The Greek word name Στέφανος means “crown” or “wreath” and the Acts of the Apostles tell is that Saint Stephen earned his crown at his martyrdom when he was stoned to death around the year AD 34 or 35 by an angry mob encouraged by Saul of Tarsus, the future Apostle Paul.

Stephen was the first of the seven deacons chosen in the Apostolic Church in Jerusalem. While he was on trial, Saint Stephen experienced a theophany: But filled with the Holy Spirit, he gazed into heaven and saw the glory of God and Jesus standing at the right hand of God. ‘Look,’ he said, ‘I see the heavens opened and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God!’ (Acts 7: 55-56).

The Lion’s Gate in the Old City of Jerusalem is also known as Saint Stephen’s Gate because of the tradition that Saint Stephen was stoned there. In AD 415, a church was built Saint Stephen’s honour in Jerusalem to hold his relics. The relics were later moved to Constantinople. Today, those relics are said to be buried under the altar of the Church of San Lorenzo fuori le Mura in Rome.

The “Feast of Stephen” is inextricably linked with Christmas through the English carol Good King Wenceslas. Although today is a public holiday in the United Kingdom as Boxing Day. But as Saint Stephen’s Day, today is still a public holiday in Ireland and many other countries, including Australia, Austria, Canada, Croatia, the Czech Republic, Finland, Germany, Italy, New Zealand, Poland, Serbia, Slovakia, and parts of France, the Philippines and Spain.

In the Orthodox Church, Saint Stephen’s Day is celebrated on 27 December, and is known the “Third Day of the Nativity.”

The interior of Saint Stephen’s Church, Mount Street Crescent, Dublin

Saint Stephen’s Church in Mount Street Crescent, Dublin – popularly known as the “Pepper Canister Church” – is one of the last churches built in the classical style in Dublin. Saint Stephen’s, which opened in 1824, was designed by John Bowden and Joseph Welland. The tower and portico were modelled on three elegant monuments in Athens: the Erechtheum on the Acropolis (the portico), the Tower of the Winds (the campanile), and the Monument of Lysicrates (the cupola). But the Victorian apse, which was added in 1852, owes its inspiration to the Oxford Movement.

But the most impressive church I have visited that is named after the first martyr is the Stephansdom, the Cathedral of Saint Stephen, in Vienna, which dates back to 1147.

A memorial tablet recalls Mozart’s relationship with the cathedral. This was his parish church when he lived at the “Figaro House” and he was married there and two of his children were baptised there. He was named an adjunct music director there shortly before his death, and his funeral was held in the Chapel of the Cross in the cathedral in 1791.

The Stephansdom has 23 bells, and it is said Beethoven realised the full extent of his deafness when he saw birds flying from the bell tower and realised he could not hear the bells toll.

A few years ago, I also visited Saint Stephen’s House, the theological college in Oxford popularly known as “Staggers,” which is firmly rooted in the Anglo-Catholic tradition, maintaining high standards of liturgy and intellectual rigour.

Saint Stephen’s House was founded in 1876 by leading Anglo-Catholics members of the Anglo-Catholic Movement, including Edward King, then Regius professor of Pastoral Theology at Oxford and later Bishop of Lincoln.

King was one of the outstandingly holy men of his time. Other founding figures included Henry Scott Holland, one of the leading figures in the development of the Christian social teaching of the time. It was he who suggested the name of the house.

Saint Stephen’s has moved since its foundation, and is now located at Iffley Road in East Oxford in the former monastery of the Cowley Fathers, where it is said Dietrich Bonhoeffer decided to return to Germany where he met with martyrdom.

Bonhoeffer’s martyrdom illustrates how none of this architecture or grandeur, and the extension to the Christmas holiday provided by this saint’s day would have any meaning today without the faithful witness of Saint Stephen, the first deacon and first martyr, who links our faith in the Incarnation with our faith in the Resurrection.

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

25 December 2009

Happy Christmas to you all


Patrick Comerford

Last night I was in Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin, for the Midnight Eucharist. The Archbishop of Dublin presided, the Dean preached, and I was of the cathedral priests assisting in administering Holy Communion. In the chapter room, we were all delighted to hear Canon Katharin Poulton has been appointed Dean of Saint Canice’s Cathedral, Kilkenny.

This morning, at 11.15 a.m., I am celebrating the Christmas Eucharist in Whitechurch Parish (Church of Ireland), Rathfarnham, Dublin, at 11.15 a.m.

Our opening hymn is Good Christians all, rejoice (Church Hymnal 159) by John Mason Neale, who also wrote O come, O come Emmanuel:

Good Christians all, rejoice
with heart and soul and voice;
give ye heed to what we say;
Jesus Christ is born today;
ox and ass before him bow,
and he is in the manger now.
Christ is born today!
Christ is born today!

Good Christians all, rejoice
with heart and soul, and voice;
now ye hear of endless bliss:
Jesus Christ was born for this;
he has opened heaven’s door,
and all are blessed evermore.
Christ was born for this!
Christ was born for this!

Good Christians all, rejoice
with heart and soul and voice;
now ye need not fear the grave:
Jesus Christ was born to save:
calls you one, and calls you all,
to gain his everlasting hall.
Christ was born to save!
Christ was born to save!

The Collect of the Day

Almighty God,
you have given us your only-begotten Son
to take our nature upon him
and as at this time to be born of a pure virgin:
Grant that we, who have been born again
and made your children by adoption and grace,
may daily be renewed by your Holy Spirit;
through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Post-Communion Prayer

God our Father,
whose Word has come among us
in the Holy Child of Bethlehem:
May the light of faith illumine our hearts
and shine in our words and deeds;
through him who is Christ the Lord. Amen.

Happy Christmas to you all!

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

24 December 2009

The message of Saint Nicholas

Patrick Browne’s photograph on the front-page of The Irish Times shows the Nativity scene in a stain glass window in Saint Augustine’s Church, New Ross, Co Wexford

In today’s edition [24 December 2009], The Irish Times marks Christmas Eve with this editorial on page 19:

The Night before Christmas

’Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
in hopes that Saint Nicholas soon would be there.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
while visions of sugar plums danced in their heads.
And Mama in her ’kerchief, and I in my cap,
had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap.


Those opening lines of Clement Clarke Moore’s much-loved poem A Visit from Saint Nicholas will have joy-filled resonances throughout Ireland tonight as children head to bed in happy anticipation of a visit from Santa Claus. And parents will be hoping that these children sleep well and safe – and that when they wake it will be to the joys of Christmas and its true message.

Since it was first published in 1823, Moore’s poem has shaped many of our images of Santa Claus: his appearance, the night of his visit, his means of transport, the number and names of his reindeer, his landing on roofs, and how he climbs down chimneys with toys to fill stockings by the fire. Moore was a professor of biblical studies, a classical scholar and the son of an Episcopalian bishop. And so there is no accident in the way he transformed Saint Nicholas of Myra, a Byzantine bishop, into Santa Claus.

Saint Nicholas was one of the fathers of the Council of Nicaea, where he defended traditional Christian doctrine. But as myths developed around his life, he became a secret giver of gifts, putting coins in the shoes of poor children. One story tells how a butcher lured three children into his house, slaughtered them and planned to sell them as meat pies. When Nicholas heard of the ghoulish crime, he prayed and raised the three boys back to life. Another tradition tells how three poor girls were left without a dowry and faced being sold into prostitution. After dark, Nicholas went to their house and threw three purses filled with gold, one for each, down the chimney.

Victorian writers built on those mediaeval myths, transforming Nicholas from a saintly bishop to a roly-poly gift-giver. But the metamorphosis of the generous bishop into the commercially lucrative Santa Claus should not detract from the lessons to be learned from the myths about Saint Nicholas as the bishop who cared for the poor and who was the defender and rescuer of children endangered by poverty, degradation, exploitation and abuse.

In the light of recent events – including the resignation ysterday of a second Catholic bishop – the legacy of Saint Nicholas also provides a timely example. On this Christmas Eve, Nicholas reminds us that the care of children and their protection from abuse and exploitation is not an extra in the ministry of a bishop. It must be at its very heart. When all bishops live up to this responsibility, in word and in action, then we can echo the original final line in Moore’s poem: “Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night.”

The Night before Christmas

Clement Clarke Moore


’Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that Saint Nicholas soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;
And mamma in her ’kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter’s nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.

More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
“Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!”

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.

As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.

His eyes – how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night.”

21 December 2009

There is no Christmas faith without faith in the Resurrection

Saint Thomas the Apostle in a stained-glass window

Patrick Comerford

Today, the singing of O Antiphons was interrupted, and there was no provision for singing an O Aniphon on 21 December, which had once been the feast day of Saint Thomas the Apostle.

Yesterday, the traditional antiphon for 20 December was:

O Oriens, splendor lucis aeternae,
et sol justitiae:
veni, et illumina sedentes in tenebris,
et umbra mortis.

(based on John 8: 12; Hebrews 1: 3; Malachi 4: 2; Luke 1: 79):

O Dayspring, splendour of eternal light,
and sun of righteousness:
Come and enlighten those who dwell in darkness
and the shadow of death

And the traditional antiphon for tomorrow (22 December) is:

O Rex gentium, et desideratus earum,
lapisque angularis, qui facis utraque unum:
veni, et salva hominem, quem de limo formasti
.
(based on Romans 15: 12; Ephesians 2: 14, 20; Genesis 2: 7):

O longed-for King of the nations,
the cornerstone making both one:
Come and save us, whom you formed from the dust.

Between the two days, there was once a major feast day as the Church commemorated Saint Thomas. This commemoration was moved long ago to 3 July in the Western calendars. But I suppose Thomas sat appropriately between an antiphon that looked to the Orient and one that proclaimed Christ as King of the Nations, for tradition says that Thomas may have been the only one among the Twelve to travel beyond the boundaries of the Roman Empire to preach the Gospel, travelling through Persia and to India.

Thomas is named “Thomas, also called the Twin (Didymus).” But the name “Thomas” comes from the Aramaic word for twin, T'oma (תאומא), so there is a tautological wordplay going on here.

Syrian tradition says the apostle’s full name was Judas Thomas, or Jude Thomas, but who was his twin brother (or sister)?

The Temple of Apollo in Didyma ... one of the most important shrines and temples in the classical world to Apollo and his twin sister Artemis (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

I have often visited Didyma on the southern Anatolian coast. There the Didymaion was one of the most important shrines and temples in the classical world to Apollo and his twin sister Artemis. Apollo was the sun-god, the sun of Zeus; he was the patron of shepherds and the guardian of truth, and in Greek and Roman mythology he died and rose again.

Is the story of Thomas’s doubts an invitation to the followers of the cult of Apollo to turn to Christ, the true Son of God the Father, who is the Good Shepherd, who is the way the truth and the light, who has died and who is truly risen?

Thomas appears in a few passages in the Fourth Gospel. In John 11: 16, when Lazarus dies, the disciples resist Christ’s decision to return to Judea, where there had been attempt to stone Jesus. But Jesus is determined, and Thomas says bravely: “Let us also go, that we might die with him.”

Thomas also speaks at the Last Supper (John 14: 5). When Christ assures his disciples that they know where he is going, Thomas protests that they do not know at all. Jesus replies to this and to Philip’s requests with a detailed exposition of his relationship to God the Father.

Thomas is best known for doubting the reports of Christ’s resurrection when he first heard them. Yet he proclaimed “My Lord and my God” when he saw the Risen Christ (John 20: 28).

Although 21 December was the original feast day for Saint Thomas, this was moved in the Roman Calendar to accommodate Saint Peter Canisius, who died on 21 December, and in both the Roman Catholic and Anglican calendars Thomas is now honoured on 3 July, the day on which his relics are said to have been moved from Mylapore, near Madras, on the coast of India, to Edessa in Mesopotamia. After a short stay on the Greek island of Chios, the relics were moved in September 1258 to the West, and are said now rest to be in Ortona in Italy.

In the Orthodox Churches, he is remembered each year on Saint Thomas Sunday, or the Sunday after Easter, and on 6 October.

But recalling that there is no O Antiphon for today is also a reminder of how we should always remember that Christmas points to Easter. It reminds us that the incarnation is not just a nice occasion for a winter festival and giving thanks after the Winter Solstice that the sun is returning and the days lengthening. It reminds us that Christmas Day has no meaning without Good Friday and Easter Day. Christmas faith is only meaningful when it is faith in the Resurrection.

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

19 December 2009

A real Christmas card for a real Christmas

Patrick Comerford

How many Christmas cards have you received this Christmas? And how many of them depicted the Christmas story, keeping Christ at the heart of Christmas?

The five main characters or sets of characters in the Christmas story – Jesus Christ, the Virgin Mary, Joseph, the Shepherds and the Angels, and the Wise Men – are seen in the icon of the Nativity, which gives us a very different take on the Christmas story than the ones we find on popular Christmas cards.

In the Orthodox tradition, the icon of the Nativity of Christ shows the Creator of the Universe entering history as a new-born babe, and the impact of his birth on the natural life of the world.

The background of the icon traditionally displays an inhospitable world, the world since our expulsion from Paradise. In the centre of the icon are Mary, the central and disproportionately large figure, who is see resting in a cave, and the Christ Child as a baby in a manger wrapped in swaddling clothes. Around the icon, we can see details from the Christmas story.

The icon is rich with theological symbolism.

The Christ Child

The little helpless figure in swaddling clothes represents the complete submission of Christ to the physical conditions governing the human race.

The earth provides him with a cave. The animals watch over him in silent wonder and we humans offer him one of us, the Virgin Mother. His manger is like a coffin and his swaddling clothes are very much like the grave clothes, for this child is born to die.

Far from the Christmas-card image of being born in a sweet, cosy stable, surrounded by cuddly animals and adoring fans, Jesus is born in a dark cave. The craggy rocks above the cave form the shadow of the cross on which he dies.

One very old version of the Christmas story has it that Jesus was born in a cave outside Bethlehem, which is why the icon shows him that way, in the midst of jagged rocks and pitch dark. Christ has come into the world to save it, but that means he has come into a place of darkness and danger. He is in the depths. His birth anticipates his death, just as the gift of myrrh (a spice used in burials) points us to Christ’s death and burial.

So while the nativity is a joyful event, it carries a serious message. Jesus is God with us, God come to live the life of a human being on earth. But he has also come to die, to set us free from our slavery to evil, poverty and injustice. As one writer puts it: “God became a human child so that we might become children of God.”

The Virgin Mary

The Virgin Mary is known in Orthodoxy as the Theotokos, the God-bearer or Mother of God. Although Mary is the most dominant figure in the icon, she is not the most important. Sometimes she is shown kneeling, still concerned.

Mary is right at the centre of the Christmas story, which is why she is at the centre of this icon. It was her “yes” spoken to the angel who told her she would give birth to Jesus which set the whole story in motion. It was her belief that God could do what he promised that made it all possible. And it was she who gave birth and laid her son in a feeding trough for cattle, due to overcrowding in Bethlehem.

In this icon, we see Mary lying on a sort of long, red cushion – it almost looks like a bean bag – with Jesus in his makeshift cot by her side. She is pulling her cloak around her for warmth, and perhaps she is trying to catch some sleep after the exhaustion of giving birth. The icon-writer presents Mary like this to remind us that the birth of Jesus – like any birth – was hard work and that it was a human event. Jesus was fully human. The way Mary wraps herself in her cloak and turns to get some sleep tells us that.

But Jesus was more than just a human being, as we are told in the words of the nativity narratives in the Gospels, and through the images in this icon.

The Star

The sky salutes the Christ Child with a star, the light of wisdom. This is a sign that Christ came for everyone. Some icons have three rays from the star, representing the Holy Trinity.

The Shepherds

The shepherds and the Wise Men or Magi bring their gifts as signs that Christ has come for everyone.

Saint Luke’s Gospel has a special emphasis on the poor and disadvantaged, on people living on the margins of society. While Saint Matthew’s Gospel focuses on the wise men who travelled from the East, Saint Luke’s spotlight falls on these working men, who hear the news about the birth of Jesus from heaven itself.

There shepherds are on the right-hand side of the icon, and one young shepherd is wearing a wreath as he plays his flute, showing the joy of the Good News.

Below the shepherds, their sheep drink in a river. One of the shepherds looks up and is blessed by an angel looking down on him. Luke is the only evangelist to mention the shepherds in his Gospel.

Jesus later said, “I have come to bring good news to the poor.” The shepherds in the story remind us of God’s love for those who are forgotten and left behind in our world.

The Wise Men

The Wise Men are on horseback on the left-hand side of the icon, galloping uphill, their faces turned up looking for the star which has led them there. The wise men are also part of the Christmas story, and they bring not just their strange and exotic gifts but they also bring the world of politics and military power into the story.

King Herod, a violent and cunning ruler who was paranoid about holding on to his power, is alarmed by his unexpected visitors. Eventually, he orders the horrific massacre of all new-born baby boys in Bethlehem in an attempt to liquidate any rival to his throne, no matter how young he may be.

In this icon, the uphill angle of the horses tells of the long, hard journey of the wise men, and how important the event was to them. Perhaps they alone in this story have realised something of what was truly happening. And the speed of their horses tells us of the urgency and danger in their part of the story.

They show how the story of the incarnation of Christ was rooted in the real world of political corruption and intrigue, with a ruler who was prepared to kill anyone who stood in his way. It is this real world of oppression, death and danger that Christ has come to save.

The midwives

The women on the bottom right of the icon are midwives. They tell us that Jesus was born in the normal way and would have needed washing, as a regular human baby does.

The tree

Below the centre of the icon is a tree, representing the Jesse Tree in Old Testament prophecy, which says that a shoot will sprout from the stump of Jesse, the father of King David: “A shoot shall sprout from the stump (tree) of Jesse and from his roots a bud shall blossom. The spirit of the Lord shall rest upon Him” (Isaiah 11: 1-2).

The ox and ass

Christ comes into the world that does not recognise him for who he is. The ox and the ass below the centre of the icon are also referred to in an Old Testament prophecy: “The ox knows his owner, and the donkey his master’s crib, but Israel does not know, my people do not understand” (Isaiah 1: 3). In some icons, the ox and ass are shown near the Christ child, providing warmth from their breath.

Joseph

The Righteous Joseph is shown away from Jesus and the Virgin Mary, to the bottom left. This is to show that he was not involved in the miracle of the Incarnation of the Son of God, but that he was the protector of Mary and Jesus.

Joseph reminds us of a very human dilemma in the Nativity stories: how could Mary be pregnant? It was a scandalous thing (see Matthew 1: 18-24).

From Saint Matthew’s Gospel, it is clear that Joseph did not believe Mary’s explanation of how she had conceived. It was only after a dream that he accepted Mary as his wife.

In the icon, Joseph has his back to Mary, listening to his doubts and fears. He cuts an isolated figure, right at the bottom of the picture, and he looks thoroughly fed up with everything. And yet, despite any lingering doubts he may have harboured, Joseph has an important place in the whole icon. Doubt can help us get honest with God and with ourselves.

The tempting old man

The old man speaking to Joseph represents the devil bringing new doubts to Joseph. The devil suggests that if the infant were truly divine he would not have been born in the human way. This argument, presented in different forms, keeps on reappearing throughout the history of the Church, and is the foundation of many heresies.

In the person of Joseph, the icon discloses not only his personal drama, but the drama of all humanity, the difficulty of accepting that which is beyond reason, the Incarnation of God. But Mary in the centre, from her reclining position at the centre of the icon, looks at Joseph as if trying to overcome his doubts and temptations.

The Angels

The Angels in the icon are glorifying God, tending to the action, and ministering. They are announcing the Good news to the shepherds, or singing. The angels in the middle group are kneeling or bowing in worship before Jesus, lying in his cave, while the angels on the left of the icon are standing like a choir, singing.

Prayer and reflection

Spend a few moments in thought and prayer while you are at your computer or laptop. If it is now night-time, dim or turn off the lights in your room. If it is possible, light a candle or night-light and think of Mary and her “yes” to God. Remember her open-hearted faith.

If you have some of those Christmas cards you have received close to hand, take three or four of them and pray for the people who have sent them to you. If you haven’t, pray for those you are thinking of most at the moment.

Here is a prayer to pray for yourself and others:

May God shield us
May God fill us
May God keep us
May God watch over us.
May God bring us
To the land of peace
To the country of the king
To the peace of eternity.


Have a Happy and a Holy Christmas.

Canon Patrick Comerford is Director of Spiritual Formation, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute and a canon of Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin. This essay was first posted on 20 December 2008

17 December 2009

O come, O come, Emmanuel

O come, O come, Emmanuel … the Holy Family by Giovanni Battista Pittoni, the Altar Piece in the Chapel of Sidney Sussex College, Cambridge, was bought for 20 guineas in 1783 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Patrick Comerford

At the Choral Eucharist in the Institute Chapel yesterday evening – our last before the Christmas holiday – we sang as our recessionary hymn O come, O come, Emmanuel.

The version we sang from the Irish Church Hymnal (Hymn 135) is an adaptation of John Mason Neale’s mid-19th century interpretation of the Latin text, Veni, veni, Emmanuel.

This is a metrical version of a collation of various Advent Antiphons, the acrostic O Antiphons, which may date from at least the eighth century, and certainly from the 12th century. The traditional music associated with this hymn may come from a 15th century processional sung by French Franciscan nuns, but may even have its origins in eighth century Gregorian chant.

For some, this is one of the most solemn Advent hymns. But Advent is not meant to be a penitential season like Lent; rather, it is supposed to be a season of preparation and anticipation, reflection and hope. As Percy Dearmer wrote: “The tendency of the present day to make another Lent of Advent is much to be deprecated. The O Sapientia [the first of O Antiphons] in our Kalendar and the use of Sequences in the old English books may remind us of the spirit of joyful expectation which is the liturgical characteristic of Advent.”

In Advent, as in Lent, Gloria in Excelsis is not said or sung at the Eucharist, including Sunday Eucharists, not for penitential reasons but because it echoes the message of the angels to the shepherds and is held back until Christmas Day.

The refrain in this hymn is based on the prophecy in Isaiah 7: 14, “the young woman is with child and shall bear a son, and shall name him Immanuel.” According to Matthew 1: 23, this promise is fulfilled at the incarnation of Christ in Bethlehem.

The Advent Antiphons

The origins of the Advent Antiphons can be traced to the practice in the mediaeval church of singing a special antiphon before and after the canticles, including Nunc Dimittis and Magnificat, at the evening office of Vespers in order to emphasise a particular point. For example, in the service of Compline, Nunc Dimittis has this antiphon: “Preserve us, O Lord, while waking, and guard us while sleeping, that awake we may watch with Christ, and asleep we may rest in peace” (Book of Commons Prayer 2004, p. 158).

In the days leading up the Christmas, there was a series of seven special antiphons. One was to be sung daily, and in the original Latin each antiphon began with a long-drawn-out “O” – symbolising the longing for the coming of the Messiah.

Each of the seven stanzas addressed the Messiah by one of his titles, each one praising the coming of the Saviour by a different name, and closing with petitions appropriate to the title. In their original order, the “Greater” Antiphons and “The Seven Os” are:

O Sapientia, quae ex ore Altissimi prodiisti,
attingens a fine usque ad finem fortiter,
suavierque disponens omnia:
veni ad docedum nos viam prudentia.

(based on Sirach 24: 3; Wisdom 8:1):

O Wisdom, coming forth from the mouth of the Most High,
and reaching mightily from one end of the earth to the other,
ordering all things well:
Come and teach us the way of prudence.

O Adonai, et dux domus Israel,
qui Moysi in igne flammae rubi apparuisti,
ei in Sinai legem dedisti:
veni ad redimendum nos in brachio extento.

(Exodus 3: 2-6, 6: 6, 19 ff):

O Lord, and leader of the house of Israel,
who appeared to Moses in the fire of the burning bush
and gave him the law on Sinai:
Come and redeem us with an outstretched arm.

O Radix Jesse, qui stas in signum populorum,
super quem continebunt reges os suum,
quem gentes depreca buntur;
veni ad liberandum nos, iam noli tardere.

(Isaiah 11: 10, 52: 15; Romans 15: 11-12):

O Root of Jesse who stood as a standard of the people,
before whom kings shall shut their mouths
and the nations shall seek:
Come and deliver us, and do not delay.

O Clavis David, et sceptrum domus Israel:
qui aperis, et nemo claudit;
claudis, et nemo aperit:
veni et educ vinctum de domo carceris,
sedentem in tenebris, et umbra mortis.

(Isaiah 22: 2, 42: 7; Jeremiah 51: 19; Revelation 3: 7):

O Key of David and sceptre of the House of Israel,
who opens and no-one can shut,
who shuts and non-one can open:
Come and bring the prisoners from the prison house,
those who dwell in darkness and in the shadow of death.

O Oriens, splendor lucis aeternae,
et sol justitiae:
veni, et illumina sedentes in tenebris,
et umbra mortis.

(John 8: 12; Hebrews 1: 3; Malachi 4: 2; Luke 1: 79):

O Dayspring, splendour of eternal light,
and sun of righteousness:
Come and enlighten those who dwell in darkness
and the shadow of death

O Rex gentium, et desideratus earum,
lapisque angularis, qui facis utraque unum:
veni, et salva hominem, quem de limo formasti

(Romans 15: 12; Ephesians 2: 14, 20; Genesis 2: 7):

O longed-for King of the nations,
the cornerstone making both one:
Come and save us, whom you formed from the dust.

O Emmanuel, Rex et legifer noster,
expectatio gentium, et Salvator earum:
veni ad salvandum nos, Domine Deus noster.

(Isaiah 7: 14, 33: 22; Matthew 1: 23; Genesis 49: 10):

O Emmanuel, our King and Lawgiver,
the desire of all nations and their Saviour:
Come and save us, O Lord our God.

William Holman Hunt’s The Light of the World from the cover of last night’s order of service … “O Key of David and sceptre of the House of Israel, who opens and no-one can shut, who shuts and non-one can open”

These seven antiphons were originally sung before and after Magnificat in this period, the Octave before Christmas, from 16 to 23 December. Omitting Saint Thomas’s Day (21 December), these seven days are also known as the Greater Ferias. Of course, there was no provision for 24 December because the Vespers of Christmas Eve are those for the Christmas Vigil.

However, some service books contained eight antiphons, the Sarum Breviary had nine antiphons, and in some traditions there were even as many as 12 antiphons.

One verse was sung or chanted each evening, but they were never sung together as a single hymn, as we sing them today.

The origin of the antiphons

The Advent Antiphons date back at least to the reign of Charlemagne (771-814). The 439 lines of the English poem Christ, by Cynewulf (ca 800), have been described as a loose translation and elaboration of the Antiphons. One source even claims that Boethius (ca 480-524) referred to them, which would suggest they were in use in the fifth or sixth century.

The “O Antiphons” were used so much throughout the monasteries of Europe that the phrases, “Keep your O” and “The Great O Antiphons” were common sayings.

At least two — and up to five — additional verses were later added to the original seven. However, it is clear that the original seven were designed as a group, since their initial letters, ignoring the “O” that precedes each line, spell out the reverse acrostic “sarcore” – “ero cras,” that is, “I shall be [with you] tomorrow.”

In the 12th century, an unknown poet put five of the verses together to form the verses of a single hymn, with the refrain: “Gaude, gaude, Emmanuel nascetur pro te, Israel” (“Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel is born for thee, Israel”). There was no refrain in the original Latin chant.

After the Reformations, the antiphons were recited from 17 December through to 23 December, so that, despite Cranmer’s proposal to remove the Antiphons from public worship, from 1604 on the entry in the calendar of the Book of Common Prayer in the Church of England for yesterday (16 December) and in the calendar in Common Worship for today (17 December) both contain the exclamation: “O Sapientia,” and in the Book of Common Prayer 16 December is listed as a black letter holy day.

I wonder when and why it was deleted from the Calendar in the Book of Common Prayer in the Church of Ireland. It may be a somewhat mysterious calendar entry for some, yet it echoes across the gulf of the Reformations from a tradition going back perhaps to the eighth century or earlier, back to the tradition of the “Great O Antiphons.”

The earliest known metrical form of the “O Antiphons” is a Latin version in an Appendix of Psalteriolum Cantionum Catholicarum, published in Cologne in 1710.

There was a widespread Roman Catholic practice of singing two sequential verses each week in Advent, beginning with the First Sunday of Advent (verses 1 and 2), followed by verses 3 and 4 on the Second Sunday of Advent, and verses 5 and 6 on the Third Sunday of Advent. Then finally, on Sunday next, the Fourth Sunday of Advent, verses 1 and 7 are sung.

However, let us listen to Sinead O’Connor and the Benedictine monks of Glenstal Abbey singing Veni, Veni, Emmanuel. (Biscantorat (2004) Track 3.)

An Anglican hymn

The first English translation of Veni, veni, Emmanuel, was made by John Henry Newman in 1836. Some years later, the Revd John Mason Neale (1818-1866), a Victorian authority on mediaeval liturgy and hymnody, published the five Latin metrical stanzas in his Hymni Ecclesiae in 1851. Neale’s English translation was published that year in his Mediaeval Hymns and Sequences, with the opening line: “Draw Nigh, Draw Nigh, Emmanuel.”

A slightly revised version was also published in 1854 by Neale and the Revd Thomas Helmore (1811-1890), an English priest who helped revive an Anglican interest in plainsong or Gregorian chant, in The Hymnal Noted.

Seven years later, in 1861, it was published in Hymns Ancient and Modern, but with the more familiar opening words: “O Come, O Come Emmanuel” – and with the note: “Altered by the Compilers.”

But the hymn was based on only five of the original antiphons, sung in the following way:

1, O Sapientia (O Wisdom), omitted.
2, O Adonai (O Lord), Verse 5.
3, O Radix Jesse (O Root of Jesse), Verse 2.
4, O Clavis David (O Key of David), Verse 4.
5, O Oriens (O Dayspring), Verse 3.
6, O Rex gentium (O longed-for King), omitted.
7, O Emmanuel (O Emmanuel), Verse 1.

The version in Irish Church Hymnal

John Mason Neale’s hymn could never be a complete reflection of the “Great Os” as his stanzas are based on only five of the original seven antiphons.

The compilers of the 1940 Hymnal of ECUSA, in an effort to rectify this shortcoming, produced two new stanzas based on the missing antiphons. Rejoice and Sing (1991) improved on the two additional American stanzas and added a useful footnote on the history of the “Great Os.” This is the version that was adopted by the Hymnal Revision Committee of the Church of Ireland, and it has been published in the Irish Church Hymnal (2000), along with the footnote from Rejoice and Sing.

At one stage, the Hymnal Revision Committee considered moving the stanza “O come, O come, Emmanuel,” which is the first verse but the final antiphon, and to restore to its rightful place at the end of the hymn. However, the committee members realised that the hymn is so well known with this as its opening that it would be unwise to go ahead with the idea. Instead, they made it an optional stanza at the end of the hymn.

The mystery of the tune

The origins of the well-known tune we used last night are shrouded in mystery and doubt.

According to Henry Jenner (1848-1934), his father Bishop Henry Lascelles Jenner (1820-1898), the controversial first Bishop of Dunedin, found the tune in a manuscript in a library in Lisbon in 1853 and gave a copy to John Mason Neale. In 1881, however, Helmore said his source was a French missal in a library in Lisbon and that he had given a copy to Neale.

Subsequent searches in the library failed to find either the manuscript or the missal. And so, it was asked whether Helmore himself composed the melody, and it was even suggested that he may have constructed it from a number of plainsong phrases.

Dr Mary Berry who died last year … she unearthed the original tune of O come, O come, Emmanuel

Then, in 1966, the tune was found in a manuscript in the Bibliothèque nationale de France in Paris by Dr Mary Berry (1917-2008) of Cambridge, who found it in a 15th century processional used by a French community of Franciscan nuns.

There are other variations when it comes to the rhythm of the music. Many performances pause after “Emmanuel” in both the verse and the chorus, or they extend the final syllable through a similar count. Often however, performances omit these pauses to emphasise the meaning of the chorus: “Rejoice, rejoice, Emmanuel shall come to thee O Israel.”

If a pause is included, the meaning may be confused, as an audible comma is perceived between “Emmanuel” and “shall come to thee...,” changing the grammatical subject of the sentence from Israel to Emmanuel. Rushing the first and final lines to omit the pause produces a greater sense of movement, contrasting with the unhurried pace of the remainder of the song.

Using the Advent Antiphons liturgically

The Promise of His Glory (pp 114-116) suggests an interesting way of using the Advent Antiphons within a Service of Hope and Expectation (pp 112-119), in which all seven antiphons are said or sung, each followed by a short Bible reading and the appropriate verse of the hymn, “O come, O come, Emmanuel.”

I plan to use an adaptation this service in the chapel this evening, in place of Choral Evensong.

Last year in the Church Times (12 December 2008), the Revd Dr Fraser Watts discussed how at Saint Edward’s, Cambridge, they have been using a version of this for some years. The main Sunday Eucharist in Saint Edward’s is at 5 p.m., when it is already dark at this time of the year.

They begin with a candle-lit procession, singing the antiphons at various stations in the church, each followed by a Bible reading. A verse of the hymn is then sung as they move on to the next station. Often they have used just the five antiphons that have corresponding verses in the original version of “O come, O come, Emmanuel” by John Mason Neale.

The procession moves from west to east in the church, singing the antiphons in different places: “O key of David” at the West Door, “O King of the nations” at the font, “O Wisdom” at the lectern, “O morning star” at the Advent candle, and “O Emmanuel” at the sanctuary.

Two years ago in Saint Edward’s, they used all seven Advent Antiphons, including a sonnet linked to each and written by Malcolm Guite, and they divided the antiphons between processions on two successive Sundays in the Advent season.

Conclusions

The O Antiphons have been described as “a unique work of art and a special ornament of the pre-Christmas liturgy, filled with the Spirit of the Word of God.” It is said that they “create a poetry that fills the liturgy with its splendour,” and that their imagery displays “a magnificent command of the Bible’s wealth of motifs.”

Consider how you may use them as we have them in the hymn O come, O come, Emmanuel, in your ministry and in your parishes to add a spiritual depth to these last days before Christmas, in contrast to the banal ways in which Christmas carols are now used commercially in Advent, and even before it.

O come, O come, Emmanuel (Hymn 135):

O come, O come, Emmanuel,
and ransom captive Israel,
that mourns in lonely exile here
until the Son of God appear:

Rejoice! Rejoice!
Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel
.

O come, thou Wisdom from above,
who ord’rest all things through thy love;
to us the path of knowledge show,
and teach us in her ways to go:

O come, O come, thou Lord of might,
who to thy tribes, on Sinai’s height,
in ancient times didst give the law
in cloud and majesty and awe:

O come, thou Rod of Jesse, free
thine own from Satan’s tyranny;
from depths of hell thy people save,
and give them vict’ry o’er the grave:

O come, thou Key of David, come,
and open wide our heavenly home;
make safe the way that leads on high,
and close the path to misery:

O come, thou Dayspring, come and cheer
our spirits by thine advent here;
disperse the gloomy clouds of night,
and death’s dark shadows put to flight:

O come, Desire of Nations, bring
all peoples to their Saviour King;
thou Corner-stone, who makest one,
complete in us thy work begun:

O come, O come, Emmanuel,
and ransom captive Israel,
that mourns in lonely exile here
until the Son of God appear.

Reading:

Edward Darling and Donald Davison, Companion to Church Hymnal (Dublin: Columba, 2005).
Gordon Giles, O Come, Emmanuel (Oxford: Bible Reading Fellowship, 2005).
William Marshall, O come Emmanuel: a devotional study of the Advent Antiphons (Dublin: Columba/APCK, 1993).
The Promise of His Glory (London: Church House Publishing/Mowbray, 1991).
Benjamin Gordon-Taylor and Simon Jones, Celebrating Christ’s Appearing (London: SPCK, 2008).

Canon Patrick Comerford is Director of Spiritual Formation, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute. This essay is based on notes prepared for a lecture on the Year III BTh course, ‘Spirituality for Today,’ on 17 December 2009.

13 December 2009

Gaudete, gaudete! Christus est natus

The Annunciation by Fra Angelico ... note the pink or rose-colured robes on the Angel Gabriel and on the Virgin Mary

Patrick Comerford

Collect

O Lord Jesus Christ, who at your first coming sent your messenger to prepare your way before you: Grant that the ministers and stewards of your mysteries may likewise so prepare and make ready your way by turning the hearts of the disobedient to the wisdom of the just, that at your second coming to judge the world we may be found an acceptable people in your sight; for you are alive and reign with the Father and the Holy Spirit, one God, world without end.

Lectionary Readings

Zephaniah 3: 14-20; Psalm 146: 5-10; Philippians 4: 4-7; Luke 3: 7-18.

The Advent Wreath

For the past two weeks, the Advent wreath has been lighting each day at the offices and at the Liturgy. So far, we have lit two of the five candles – two of the purple or violet candles on the edge. But there is a change this week, for today is Gaudete Sunday, the Third Sunday of Advent, when the pink or rose-coloured candle in the wreath is lit.

In churches with an Advent wreath, the rose-coloured candle is lit alongside the two violet (or blue) candles from the first two Sundays of Advent. Despite the otherwise sombre readings of Advent, the readings on the third Sunday emphasise the joyous anticipation of the Lord’s coming.

The Advent Wreath has five candles: three purple, one pink and one white. They are first lit on each of the Sundays of Advent and on Christmas Day as follows:

Advent 1: purple, for the patriarchs;

Advent 2: purple, for the prophets;

Advent 3: pink, for Saint John the Baptist;

Advent 4: purple, for the Virgin Mary;

Christmas Day: white, for Christ.

Once lit, they are each then lit again for the remaining Sundays, so that on Christmas Day they are all lit. Whether they are in a circular or stepped arrangement, the white candle should be the highest, central or most prominent candle in the arrangement. The three purple candles represent the generally penitential character of the Advent season. But the pink colour of the third candle indicates that the Third Sunday of Advent is a less solemn day.

On this Sunday, which is also known as Gaudete Sunday, rose-coloured vestments are worn instead of the Advent violet. In many parts of the Anglican Communion and in some Lutheran traditions, the colour may be Sarum blue instead. Some traditions say the custom of wearing rose-pink vestments on this Sunday – as on the fourth Sunday of Lent (Laetare Sunday) – comes from an old custom of the Popes distributing roses on these days.

Gaudete Sunday

The season of Advent began as a fast of 40 days in preparation for Christmas. But in the ninth century, the length of Advent was reduced to four weeks. This Sunday takes the name Gaudete Sunday from the Latin word Gaude, “Rejoice,” the first word in the traditional introit for this morning:

Rejoice in the Lord always.
Again I say, rejoice;
let your forbearance be known to all,
for the Lord is near at hand;
have no anxiety about anything,
but in all things, by prayer and supplication,
with thanksgiving,
let your requests be known to God
.

The spirit of the Liturgy all through Advent is one of expectation and preparation for the Christmas feast, as well as for the second coming of Christ. But on Gaudete Sunday, the penitential exercises suitable to the spirit of Advent are suspended, symbolising that joy and gladness in the promised redemption that should never be absent from our hearts.

On the middle or third Sunday of Advent – corresponding to Laetare or Mid-Lent Sunday – the organ and flowers, which had been forbidden during the rest of the season, were permitted once again. Rose-colored vestments were allowed instead of purple, the deacon and sub-deacon reassumed the dalmatic and tunicle, and cardinals wore rose-colour instead of purple.

Gaudete Sunday is also marked by a new Invitatory: the Church no longer invites us to prepare to greet “the Lord who is to come,” but calls us to worship and hail with joy “the Lord who is now nigh and close at hand” – a theme that is reflected in the Collect and Post-Communion Prayer for this day in the Book of Common Prayer of the Church of Ireland, along with recalling Saint John the Baptist, another tradition of Gaudete Sunday.

For some families, this weekend is also traditionally the weekend for putting up the Christmas Tree.

Listening to a 1970s hit

In recent days, I have also been listening to the song Gaudete, usually sung on Gaudete Sunday. The Irish choral group Anúna sang Gaudete on their CDs Omnis (1996) and Celtic Origins (2007). But the version I have been listening to and listening to again this weekend became popular in the early 1970s. I was first introduced to English folk rock while I was in the English Midlands and writing for the Lichfield Mercury.

After Bob Johnson heard Gaudete at a folk carol service at his father-in-law’s church in Cambridge, Steeleye Span recorded Gaudete in 1972 on their album Below the Salt. The record sleeve notes said:

Mist takes the morning path to wreath the willows -
Rejoice, rejoice -
small birds sing as the early rising monk takes to his sandals -
Christ is born of the Virgin Mary -
cloistered, the Benedictine dawn threads timelessly the needle’s eye -
rejoice.


Steeleye Span was formed in 1969, and they often performed as the opening act for Jethro Tull. A year after recording Below the Salt, it came as a surprise to many when they had a Christmas hit single with Gaudete, when it made No 14 in the British charts in 1973.

This a capella motet, sung entirely in Latin, is neither representative of Steeleye Span’s repertoire nor of the album. Yet this was their first big breakthrough and it brought them onto Top of the Pops for the first time.

The reference in verse 3, which puzzled many fans at the time, is to the eastern gate of the city in Ezekiel’s vision (Ezekiel 44: 2). The gate is a traditional symbol of Mary as virgin.

Since the mid-1970s, despite the change in their line-up and the loss of names like Maddy Pryor and Gay and Terry Woods at different times, they often include Gaudete as a concert encore, and it was publised in 1992 in the New Oxford Book of Carols.

The original is at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lN9AJj9rtlk&feature=related But there are some more recent recordings at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OBZ8v9L8444 and at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EDc2FD-vy8M&feature=related

I posted a link to one version on my Facebook page late on Friday night, and was surprised by the reaction. Let us rejoice in good memories, let us rejoice that Christmas is coming, and in the midst of the present gloom let us rejoice that the coming of Christ holds out the promise of hope, the promise of his Kingdom, that even in darkness the light of Christ shines on us all.

Gaudete, gaudete! Christus est natus
Ex Maria virginae, gaudete!

Tempus adest gratiæ
Hoc quod optabamus,
Carmina lætitiæ
Devote reddamus.

Gaudete, gaudete! Christus est natus
Ex Maria virginae, gaudete!

Deus homo factus est
Natura mirante,
Mundus renovatus est
A Christo regnante.

Gaudete, gaudete! Christus est natus
Ex Maria virginae, gaudete!

Ezechielis porta
Clausa pertransitur,
Unde lux est orta
Salus invenitur.

Gaudete, gaudete! Christus est natus
Ex Maria virginae, gaudete!

Ergo nostra contio
Psallat iam in lustro;
Benedicat Domino:
Salus Regi nostro.

Gaudete, gaudete! Christus est natus
Ex Maria virginae, gaudete.

Rejoice, rejoice! Christ is born
of the Virgin Mary, rejoice!

The time of grace has come
that we have desired;
let us devoutly return
joyful verses.

Rejoice, rejoice! Christ is born
of the Virgin Mary, rejoice!

God has become man,
and nature marvels;
the world has been renewed
by Christ who is King.

Rejoice, rejoice! Christ is born
of the Virgin Mary, rejoice!

The closed gate of Ezekiel
has been passed through;
whence the light is born,
salvation is found.

Rejoice, rejoice! Christ is born
of the Virgin Mary, rejoice!

Therefore let our gathering
now sing in brightness,
let it give praise to the Lord:
Greetings to our King.

Rejoice, rejoice! Christ is born
of the Virgin Mary, rejoice!


Post Communion Prayer

Father, we give you thanks for these heavenly gifts. Kindle us with the fire of your Spirit that when Christ comes again we may shine as lights before his face; who is alive and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever.

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