The ‘Adoration of the Magi’ (ca 1440/1460) by Fra Angelico and Fra Filippo Lippi
Patrick Comerford
As is so often at this stage in my life, I have sent out very few Christmas cards this year. Indeed, I have handed out very few cards either. In previous years, I always tried to send cards that had a real religious symbolism and designs. But I now feel a little guilty that I have not returned with the same verve or energy to sending out cards that I once had.
The small box of Oxfam cards I bought this year has not been fully used. It may be due to a number of moves in recent years, to the consequent loss of address books, and some reactions that are still delayed following a stroke almost four years ago. Or it may simply be down to bad planning and follow-through on my part.
By way of compensation, I am putting together a collection of images – stained-glass windows, icons, crib scenes and works of art – to post as online Christmas cards, posting one at noon each day on social media throughout the Twelve Days of Christmas. This follows the positive response to my daily ‘Advent Calendar’ postings throughout the month of December.
One image that caught my attention from similar postings in previous years is the Adoration of the Magi, a tondo or circular painting dating from ca 1440-1460 and ascribed to both Fra Angelico and Filippo Lippi. It was recorded in the Palazzo Medici Riccardi in Florence in 1492, and is now in the National Gallery of Art in Washington DC.
In this work, I am particularly struck by a large peacock perches on the roof of the stable, looking over his shoulder, and forming the shape of a cross in the eaves behind him.
A peacock among the heraldic symbols of the Comberford family in the Moat House on Lichfield Street in Tamworth (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
The peacock may have been given a prominent place in this work because Giovanni di Cosimo de Medici (1421-1463) had adopted a peacock as his heraldic symbol, along with the French motto Regarde-Moi (‘Watch me’).
This may help to explain how the peacock was popularised as a symbol in late mediaeval heraldry, as seen in the coats-of arms of the Comberford and Comerford families, as well as the Arbuthnot family and the Manners family who became the Dukes of Rutland.
The Comberford family may have first adopted the peacock and a ducal coronet as the crest in their coat of arms through a link with the Harcourt family and the two families’ shared connections with the Moat House on Lichfield Street in Tamworth. And, in turn, there may be a connection there that has links in some way with the Battle of Bosworth Field at the end of the Wars of the Roses, or provided a visual link with the swan that provided similar symbolism for the Stafford family, Dukes of Buckingham.
In time, peacocks came to decorate the crests in the coat-of-arms of both the Comerford and Comberford families: a peacock’s head in the case of two branches of the family, and a peacock in his pride in a third branch.
Three peacocks in ‘The Paradise’, a poster in a shopfront in Rethymnon inspired by a Byzantine fresco created by Theophanes of Crete in 1527 in Meteora (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
I have long been fascinated by peacocks. When I was living in Wexford in the mid-1970s, I went on a long walk in the sunshine one Sunday afternoon and came across a farm near Piercestown, 6 km south of Wexford town, with a large number of peafowl in the farmyard.
I turned into work at the Wexford People the next morning, enthusiastic about offering a feature on what appeared to be an exotic peacock colony. But everyone else seemed to know about it and was dismissive, and no-one shared my enthusiasm. The feature was never written – but then, it was in the days when newspapers were in black and white, and any photographs could never have done justice to the sight that delighted me that summer afternoon.
That fascination has continued. I have learned how to attract their attention and curiosity without disturbing them, and delighted in feeding them from my hand across Europe, from the gardens of the Royal Alcázar of Seville and vineyards near Perpignan in the south of France to the monastic gardens of Vlatadon on the slopes overlooking Thessaloniki in northern Greece.
A peacock in the gardens at the Royal Alcázar of Seville … happy to eat from a visitor’s hand (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
In vineyards, peafowl – peacocks and peahens – walk around freely. Peafowl are forest birds that nest on the ground, but roost in trees. They are terrestrial feeders, and domesticated peafowl enjoy protein rich food, including larvae that infest granaries, different kinds of meat and fruit, as well as vegetables, including dark leafy greens, broccoli, carrots, beans, beets, and peas. This makes them appropriate birds to keep in an organic vineyard, acting as a natural protection for the vines.
They are curious birds too, always ready to respond to the presence of people. Despite their innate independence, they can appear to be both disdainful and socially curious at one and the same time.
With this natural curiosity, sociability and their feeding habits, it is easy to entice the peacocks and peahens with nuts and raisins and to have them eating from your hand, like cats seeking to make sense of the attention of visitors.
Peacocks above the doors of Alexandra Kaouki’s former workshop on Melissinou Street in the old town in Rethymnon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
The English poet William Blake (1757-1827) wrote in The Marriage of Heaven and Hell (1793): ‘The pride of the peacock is the glory of God.’ But how did the peacock become such an interesting symbol in Christianity? Why is it that peacocks appear so often in Christian art as a symbol of the Resurrection and Eternal Life?
In ancient Persia and Babylon, the peacock was associated with Paradise and the Tree of Life and was seen as a guardian to royalty, and was often engraved upon royal thrones.
These birds were not known to Greeks before the conquests of Alexander the Great. Aristotle, who was Alexander’s tutor, refers to the peacock as ‘the Persian bird.’ In classical Greece, it was believed that the flesh of peafowl did not decay after death, and so the peacock became a symbol of immortality.
This symbolism was adopted in early Christianity, and many early Christian paintings and mosaics show the peacock. The peacock is still used in the Easter season, especially in the east. The ‘eyes’ in the peacock’s tail feathers symbolise the all-seeing God and – in some interpretations – the Church.
A peacock drinking from a vase is used as a symbol of a Christian believer drinking from the waters of eternal life. The peacock can also symbolise the cosmos if one interprets his tail with his many ‘eyes’ as the vault of heaven dotted by the sun, moon, and stars. The peacock is associated with immortality, and in iconography the peacock is often depicted next to the Tree of Life.
Peacocks and peacock feathers as symbols of the Resurrection in the Church of the Four Martyrs in Rethymnon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Some commentators have written that the reference in the Book of Revelation to four living creatures ‘full of eyes in front and behind’ before the throne is inspired by images of the tail of the peacock (see Revelation 4: 6). Other writers also say, ironically, that the peacock is a symbol of humility, since he has great beauty, yet hides it all behind himself.
The peacock has been a symbol of immortality from as early as the 3rd century CE on the walls of the catacombs of Rome. Later, peacocks appear in mediaeval paintings and manuscripts and in decorative motifs on churches and buildings, and even among the animals in the stable at Christ’s nativity.
The peacock in the Adoration of the Magi by Fra Angelico and Filippo Lipp is large and peacock perches on the top of the stable, looking over his shoulder. What is he looking back at, or forward to?
For me, he seems to provide a thematic link between the wooden stable and the wood of the cross, between the incarnation and the resurrection, between Christmas and Easter. There is more to look forward to than Christmas. But, for now, may you have a Happy and a Blessed and a Holy Christmas.
Peacocks on comfortable cushions at Esquires Coffee on West Street, Buckingham (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Showing posts with label Christmas Eve. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Christmas Eve. Show all posts
24 December 2025
An Advent Calendar with Patrick Comerford: 25, 24 December 2025
A Nativity image in Saint Laurence’s Church, Winslow, Buckinghamshire (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Patrick Comerford
We have come to the last day of Advent, and today is Christmas Eve. At noon each day throughout Advent this year, I have been offering an image or two as part of my own ‘Advent Calendar’ for 2025, and an Advent or Christmas carol, hymn or song.
My images for my Advent Calendar at noon today, Christmas Eve, are of a Nativity image on the south wall in Saint Laurence’s Church, Winslow, Buckinghamshire, and of the Nativity scenes on the triptych in the Lady Chapel in Lichfield Cathedral.
The carved wooden reredos in the Lady Chapel in Lichfield Cathedral dates from 1895. The triptych or three-part altarpiece with high relief scenes was carved by Oskar Zwink in Oberammergau, the Bavarian town that is better known for its Passion Play. The carvings were designed in England by the Tractarian artist Charles Eamer Kempe (1837-1907), best known for his stained-glass windows, some of which can also be seen in the cathedral. The Church Historian, Owen Chadwick, says Kempe’s work represents ‘the Victorian zenith’ of church decoration and stained glass windows.
My choice of a carol or hymn today, on Christmas Eve, is ‘O Holy Night’, a song about the night of the birth of ‘the dear Saviour’ and frequently sung on Christmas Evel. It is based on the French poem Minuit, chrétiens, written in 1847 by Placide Cappeau and set to music by composer Adolphe Adam.
Cappeau’s poem reflects his socialist and abolitionist views. The most popular English version was translated in 1855 by an American music critic and Unitarian minister, the Revd John Sullivan Dwight (1813-1893), in 1855, with some small changes to the initial melody.
For many years, the song was excluded from Catholic hymnals while critics derided Cappeau as a socialist and a drunk, and spread rumours that he was Jewish.
In the version I am sharing today, the choir of King’s College, Cambridge, sings John Rutter’s arrangement of ‘O Holy Night’.
The Nativity scene on the triptych in the Lady Chapel, Lichfield Cathedral (Photograph: Patrick Comerford / Lichfield Gazette)
O holy night, the stars are brightly shining;
It is the night of the dear Saviour’s birth.
Long lay the world in sin and error pining,
Till he appeared and the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices,
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn!
Fall on your knees! O hear the angel voices!
O night divine, O night when Christ was born!
O night divine! O night, O night divine!
Led by the light of faith serenely beaming,
With glowing hearts by his cradle we stand.
So led by light of a star sweetly gleaming,
Here came the wise men from the orient land.
The King of kings lay thus in lowly manger,
In all our trials born to be our friend.
He knows our need, to our weakness no stranger.
Behold your King, before him lowly bend!
Behold your King, your King, before him lowly bend!
Truly He taught us to love one another;
His law is love and his gospel is peace.
Chains shall he break, for the slave is our brother;
And in his name all oppression shall cease.
Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we;
Let all within us praise his holy name.
Christ is the Lord! Then ever, ever praise we!
His power and glory evermore proclaim!
His power and glory evermore proclaim!
Patrick Comerford
We have come to the last day of Advent, and today is Christmas Eve. At noon each day throughout Advent this year, I have been offering an image or two as part of my own ‘Advent Calendar’ for 2025, and an Advent or Christmas carol, hymn or song.
My images for my Advent Calendar at noon today, Christmas Eve, are of a Nativity image on the south wall in Saint Laurence’s Church, Winslow, Buckinghamshire, and of the Nativity scenes on the triptych in the Lady Chapel in Lichfield Cathedral.
The carved wooden reredos in the Lady Chapel in Lichfield Cathedral dates from 1895. The triptych or three-part altarpiece with high relief scenes was carved by Oskar Zwink in Oberammergau, the Bavarian town that is better known for its Passion Play. The carvings were designed in England by the Tractarian artist Charles Eamer Kempe (1837-1907), best known for his stained-glass windows, some of which can also be seen in the cathedral. The Church Historian, Owen Chadwick, says Kempe’s work represents ‘the Victorian zenith’ of church decoration and stained glass windows.
My choice of a carol or hymn today, on Christmas Eve, is ‘O Holy Night’, a song about the night of the birth of ‘the dear Saviour’ and frequently sung on Christmas Evel. It is based on the French poem Minuit, chrétiens, written in 1847 by Placide Cappeau and set to music by composer Adolphe Adam.
Cappeau’s poem reflects his socialist and abolitionist views. The most popular English version was translated in 1855 by an American music critic and Unitarian minister, the Revd John Sullivan Dwight (1813-1893), in 1855, with some small changes to the initial melody.
For many years, the song was excluded from Catholic hymnals while critics derided Cappeau as a socialist and a drunk, and spread rumours that he was Jewish.
In the version I am sharing today, the choir of King’s College, Cambridge, sings John Rutter’s arrangement of ‘O Holy Night’.
The Nativity scene on the triptych in the Lady Chapel, Lichfield Cathedral (Photograph: Patrick Comerford / Lichfield Gazette)
O holy night, the stars are brightly shining;
It is the night of the dear Saviour’s birth.
Long lay the world in sin and error pining,
Till he appeared and the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices,
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn!
Fall on your knees! O hear the angel voices!
O night divine, O night when Christ was born!
O night divine! O night, O night divine!
Led by the light of faith serenely beaming,
With glowing hearts by his cradle we stand.
So led by light of a star sweetly gleaming,
Here came the wise men from the orient land.
The King of kings lay thus in lowly manger,
In all our trials born to be our friend.
He knows our need, to our weakness no stranger.
Behold your King, before him lowly bend!
Behold your King, your King, before him lowly bend!
Truly He taught us to love one another;
His law is love and his gospel is peace.
Chains shall he break, for the slave is our brother;
And in his name all oppression shall cease.
Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we;
Let all within us praise his holy name.
Christ is the Lord! Then ever, ever praise we!
His power and glory evermore proclaim!
His power and glory evermore proclaim!
Daily prayer in Advent 2025:
25, Wednesday 24 December 2025,
Christmas Eve
‘By the tender mercy of our God, the dawn from on high will break upon us’ (Luke 1: 78) … a December sunrise on Stony Stratford High Street (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Patrick Comerford
We come to the end of Advent today, and this evening is Christmas Eve. Later this evening, I hope to join the choir of Saint Mary and Saint Giles Church, Stony Stratford, singing at the ‘Midnight Mass’ at 9 pm in All Saints’ Church, Calverton, .
Before today begins, I am taking some quiet time this morning to give thanks, to reflect, to pray and to read in these ways:
1, today’s Gospel reading;
2, a short reflection;
3, a prayer from the USPG prayer diary;
4, the Collects and Post-Communion prayer of the day.
‘By the tender mercy of our God, the dawn from on high will break upon us’ (Luke 1: 78) … a December sunrise in Gally Hill in Stony Stratford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Luke 1: 67-79 (NRSVA):
67 Then his father Zechariah was filled with the Holy Spirit and spoke this prophecy:
68 ‘Blessed be the Lord God of Israel,
for he has looked favourably on his people and redeemed them.
69 He has raised up a mighty saviour for us
in the house of his servant David,
70 as he spoke through the mouth of his holy prophets from of old,
71 that we would be saved from our enemies and from the hand of all who hate us.
72 Thus he has shown the mercy promised to our ancestors,
and has remembered his holy covenant,
73 the oath that he swore to our ancestor Abraham,
to grant us 74 that we, being rescued from the hands of our enemies,
might serve him without fear, 75 in holiness and righteousness
before him all our days.
76 And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Most High;
for you will go before the Lord to prepare his ways,
77 to give knowledge of salvation to his people
by the forgiveness of their sins.
78 By the tender mercy of our God,
the dawn from on high will break upon us,
79 to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death,
to guide our feet into the way of peace.’
‘To give light to those who sit in darkness’ (Luke 1: 79) … Christmas lights in winter darkness on the High Street in Stony Stratford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Today’s Reflections:
In the Gospel reading at the Eucharist this morning (Luke 1: 67-79), we conclude a series of readings before Christmas that draw on the two nativity narratives found in Matthew 1: 1-24 and Luke 1: 5-79.
This reading continues on from the stories of the Visitation of the Virgin Mary to her cousin Saint Elizabeth and the account of the birth of Saint John the Baptist.
After the birth and naming of his son, Zechariah finds his speech is restored, and prophesies in a poetic speech that we have come to know as the canticle Benedictus.
The canticle naturally falls into two parts. Part 1 (verses 68-75) is a song of thanksgiving for the realisation of the Messianic hopes. In Part 2 (verses 76-79), Zechariah addresses his own son, who is to be a prophet, who will go before the Lord to prepare his ways, who will tell people of the good news of their salvation and forgiveness:
‘By the tender mercy of our God,
the dawn from on high will break upon us,
to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death,
to guide our feet into the way of peace.’
How many parents could say this with confidence, joy and love about their own children on this Christmas Eve?
As I was meeting and talking to children during Santa’s visit to the Christmas Market in Stony Stratford yesterday, I was reminded how the English Catholic theologian and writer Tina Beattie last year made a plea to parents, priests, teachers and anyone who has dealings with children in the build-up to Christmas. In a posting on Facebook, she asked them: ‘please never tell children that Santa only comes to good children, or that Santa won’t come if they’re naughty.’
‘There are thousands of good children to whom Santa won’t come because they live in poverty, dereliction or neglect,’ she pointed out. ‘But also, children so easily internalise a sense of blame and shame – for parental squabbles and separations, for bad things that happen to their families and friends. They don’t need to be threatened into good behaviour or made fearful that Santa won’t come because they misbehaved.’
And she concluded: ‘If you want them to have a sense of why gifts are given at Christmas, tell them that this is a time of gifts not because we’re good, but because God is good and loves them, whatever they do and whoever they are.’
The theologian Tina Beattie says children ‘don’t need to be threatened into good behaviour or made fearful that Santa won’t come’ … Santa in Christmas decorations at a house in Stony Stratford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Today’s Prayers (Wednesday 24 December 2025, Christmas Eve):
The theme this week (21 to 27 December 2025) in Pray with the World Church, the prayer diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), is ‘Love Brings Life in Tanzania’ (pp 12-13). This theme was introduced on Sunday with a Programme Update by Imran Englefield, Individual Giving Manager, USPG.
The USPG Prayer Diary today (Wednesday 24 December 2025, Christmas Eve) invites us to pray:
As we await the birth of Christ, we remember the expectant mothers at Mvumi Hospital. Protect them, we pray, grant them strength and care, and surround them with hope and love as they await the gift of new life.
The Collect:
Almighty God,
you make us glad with the yearly remembrance
of the birth of your Son Jesus Christ:
grant that, as we joyfully receive him as our redeemer,
so we may with sure confidence behold him
when he shall come to be our judge;
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.
The Post-Communion Prayer:
Eternal God, for whom we wait,
you have fed us with the bread of eternal life:
keep us ever watchful,
that we may be ready to stand before the Son of man,
Jesus Christ our Lord.
Additional Collect:
Almighty God,
as we prepare with joy
to celebrate the gift of the Christ-child,
embrace the earth with your glory
and be for us a living hope
in Jesus Christ our Lord.
Yesterday’s Reflections
Continued Tomorrow
‘To give light to those who sit in darkness’ (Luke 1: 79) … early morning light on Stowe Pool in Lichfield (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible: Anglicised Edition copyright © 1989, 1995 National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide. http://nrsvbibles.org
Patrick Comerford
We come to the end of Advent today, and this evening is Christmas Eve. Later this evening, I hope to join the choir of Saint Mary and Saint Giles Church, Stony Stratford, singing at the ‘Midnight Mass’ at 9 pm in All Saints’ Church, Calverton, .
Before today begins, I am taking some quiet time this morning to give thanks, to reflect, to pray and to read in these ways:
1, today’s Gospel reading;
2, a short reflection;
3, a prayer from the USPG prayer diary;
4, the Collects and Post-Communion prayer of the day.
‘By the tender mercy of our God, the dawn from on high will break upon us’ (Luke 1: 78) … a December sunrise in Gally Hill in Stony Stratford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Luke 1: 67-79 (NRSVA):
67 Then his father Zechariah was filled with the Holy Spirit and spoke this prophecy:
68 ‘Blessed be the Lord God of Israel,
for he has looked favourably on his people and redeemed them.
69 He has raised up a mighty saviour for us
in the house of his servant David,
70 as he spoke through the mouth of his holy prophets from of old,
71 that we would be saved from our enemies and from the hand of all who hate us.
72 Thus he has shown the mercy promised to our ancestors,
and has remembered his holy covenant,
73 the oath that he swore to our ancestor Abraham,
to grant us 74 that we, being rescued from the hands of our enemies,
might serve him without fear, 75 in holiness and righteousness
before him all our days.
76 And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Most High;
for you will go before the Lord to prepare his ways,
77 to give knowledge of salvation to his people
by the forgiveness of their sins.
78 By the tender mercy of our God,
the dawn from on high will break upon us,
79 to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death,
to guide our feet into the way of peace.’
‘To give light to those who sit in darkness’ (Luke 1: 79) … Christmas lights in winter darkness on the High Street in Stony Stratford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Today’s Reflections:
In the Gospel reading at the Eucharist this morning (Luke 1: 67-79), we conclude a series of readings before Christmas that draw on the two nativity narratives found in Matthew 1: 1-24 and Luke 1: 5-79.
This reading continues on from the stories of the Visitation of the Virgin Mary to her cousin Saint Elizabeth and the account of the birth of Saint John the Baptist.
After the birth and naming of his son, Zechariah finds his speech is restored, and prophesies in a poetic speech that we have come to know as the canticle Benedictus.
The canticle naturally falls into two parts. Part 1 (verses 68-75) is a song of thanksgiving for the realisation of the Messianic hopes. In Part 2 (verses 76-79), Zechariah addresses his own son, who is to be a prophet, who will go before the Lord to prepare his ways, who will tell people of the good news of their salvation and forgiveness:
‘By the tender mercy of our God,
the dawn from on high will break upon us,
to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death,
to guide our feet into the way of peace.’
How many parents could say this with confidence, joy and love about their own children on this Christmas Eve?
As I was meeting and talking to children during Santa’s visit to the Christmas Market in Stony Stratford yesterday, I was reminded how the English Catholic theologian and writer Tina Beattie last year made a plea to parents, priests, teachers and anyone who has dealings with children in the build-up to Christmas. In a posting on Facebook, she asked them: ‘please never tell children that Santa only comes to good children, or that Santa won’t come if they’re naughty.’
‘There are thousands of good children to whom Santa won’t come because they live in poverty, dereliction or neglect,’ she pointed out. ‘But also, children so easily internalise a sense of blame and shame – for parental squabbles and separations, for bad things that happen to their families and friends. They don’t need to be threatened into good behaviour or made fearful that Santa won’t come because they misbehaved.’
And she concluded: ‘If you want them to have a sense of why gifts are given at Christmas, tell them that this is a time of gifts not because we’re good, but because God is good and loves them, whatever they do and whoever they are.’
The theologian Tina Beattie says children ‘don’t need to be threatened into good behaviour or made fearful that Santa won’t come’ … Santa in Christmas decorations at a house in Stony Stratford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Today’s Prayers (Wednesday 24 December 2025, Christmas Eve):
The theme this week (21 to 27 December 2025) in Pray with the World Church, the prayer diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), is ‘Love Brings Life in Tanzania’ (pp 12-13). This theme was introduced on Sunday with a Programme Update by Imran Englefield, Individual Giving Manager, USPG.
The USPG Prayer Diary today (Wednesday 24 December 2025, Christmas Eve) invites us to pray:
As we await the birth of Christ, we remember the expectant mothers at Mvumi Hospital. Protect them, we pray, grant them strength and care, and surround them with hope and love as they await the gift of new life.
The Collect:
Almighty God,
you make us glad with the yearly remembrance
of the birth of your Son Jesus Christ:
grant that, as we joyfully receive him as our redeemer,
so we may with sure confidence behold him
when he shall come to be our judge;
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.
The Post-Communion Prayer:
Eternal God, for whom we wait,
you have fed us with the bread of eternal life:
keep us ever watchful,
that we may be ready to stand before the Son of man,
Jesus Christ our Lord.
Additional Collect:
Almighty God,
as we prepare with joy
to celebrate the gift of the Christ-child,
embrace the earth with your glory
and be for us a living hope
in Jesus Christ our Lord.
Yesterday’s Reflections
Continued Tomorrow
‘To give light to those who sit in darkness’ (Luke 1: 79) … early morning light on Stowe Pool in Lichfield (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible: Anglicised Edition copyright © 1989, 1995 National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide. http://nrsvbibles.org
15 November 2025
A Christmas carol about
the Crown of Thorns, and
a holy thorn in Shenley
with links with Glastonbury
The Glastonbury Thorn in Shenley Church End is said to flower every Christmas Eve (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Patrick Comerford
We are preparing and rehearsing for the Advent and Christmas services in the choir at Saint Mary and Giles in Stony Stratford. One of the carols we have been rehearsing on Wednesday evenings is ‘The Crown of Roses’, with words by the radical Russian poet Aleksey Nikolayevich Pleshcheev (1825-1893), translated by Geoffrey Dearmer, to a setting by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky (1840-1893):
When Jesus Christ was yet a child
He had a garden small and wild,
Where he cherished roses fair,
And wove them into garlands there.
Now once, as summertime drew nigh,
There came a troop of children by,
And seeing roses on the tree,
With shouts they plucked them merrily.
‘Do you bind roses in your hair?’,
They cried, in scorn, to Jesus there.
The boy said humbly, ‘take, I pray,
All but the naked thorns away’.
Then of the thorns they made a crown,
And with rough fingers pressed it down,
Till on his forehead fair and young
Red drops of blood like roses sprung.
Holy Thorn Lane off Shenley Road, a few hundred metres south of Saint Mary’s Church, Shenley Church End (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Pleshcheev was a radical poet and part of the Petrashevsky Circle, and he was once arrested alongside Fyodor Dostoyevsky. Many of his poems have been set to music by Tchaikovsky and Rachmaninoff.
The carol’s translator, the poet and BBC editor Geoffrey Dearmer (1893-1996), was the son of the Anglican liturgist and hymn-writer ologist Percy Dearmer and the artist and writer Mabel Dearmer. Many of Dearmer’s war poems dealt with the overall brutality of war and violence.
The carol is a moving story of Jesus as a young boy quietly cultivating a peaceful beauty only to have this stripped bare by humanity, leaving only
… thorns they made a crown,
And with rough fingers pressed it down,
Till on his forehead fair and young
Red drops of blood like roses sprung.
The Glastonbury Thorn explained in a plaque by the bush in Shenley Church End (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Crowns of thorns are usually associated with Holy Week and the Passion narrative leading up to Easter, and not with Advent and the period leading up to Christmas. But earlier this week I was at a meeting of local Milton Keynes clergy in Saint Mary’s Church in Shenley Church End, and there I came across a story of flowering thorns or a flowering thorn bush that also has associations with Christmas rather than Holy Week and Easter, all close to a children’s play area.
Shenley Church End in Buckinghamshire is a village south of Stony Stratford and that has become part of Milton Keynes. There, a few hundred metres south of Saint Mary’s Church and the Old Rectory and off Shenley Road I found Holy Thorn Lane. Hidden away, in an almost-hidden and fenced-off dip of land off the lane, between a children’s play area and the half dozen or so houses on Sheepcoat Close, is a Holy Thorn bush or Glastonbury Thorn.
The thorn is a straggly bush rather than a tree, and appears to have about four rather slender trunks. This probably indicates that it is, indeed, ‘ancient’, the original trunk having split and rotted away, leaving younger trunks still growing. Looking at the spacing of the trunks, this disintegration of older trunks may have happened several times over the centuries.
The Glastonbury Thorn has been in Shenley Church End for so long that local lore says it was grown from a staff planted by the Pilgrim Fathers more than 400 years ago, before they sailed on the Mayflower in 1620.
An explanatory plaque inside the railed-off area seeks to tell its story:
‘Glastonbury Holy Thorn
‘This ancient thorn bush is believed to
have been grown from a cutting from the
famous hawthorn bush at Glastonbury.
The Glastonbury thorn bush is said to have
miraculously grown when Joseph of
Arimathea planted his staff in the ground.
According to Avalon Legend, following
the Crucifixion, Joseph came to England
bearing the Holy Grail. This bush, just like
the original Glastonbury Thorn, is said to
flower around Christmas Eve and crowds
have gathered each year to witness this.’
A Christmas image in a window in Saint Mary’s Church, Shenley End (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Everywhere the Pilgrim Father stopped on their way from Glastonbury, the legend says, they planted one of these thorns. Someone once took a cutting from the bush and planted it at Shenley. But the cutting had many siblings dotted across England, including Quainton, Eaton Bishop, Woodham Ferrers, and Kingsthorne and Orcup in Herefordshire.
In days gone by, access to the Glastonbury Thorn in Shenley involved a trudge across fields. A 19th century writer noted, ‘This “Holy Thorn” stands in a field by itself, and is partially railed round by old palisading. Each Christmastime it is said to burst out into bud. … in this neighbourhood no one disputes the fact that it does so. In the good old coaching days people used to, so I am told, make a point of visiting this particular “Holy Thorn” at Shenley, the field where it is being but a few hundred yards from the old Watling Street.’
In those days, people camped by huge bonfires waiting for the bushes to flower. More recently, developers wanted to root up the bush and build houses. But they were challenged by local people, a preservation order was in 1978, and it is now surrounded by a metal fence, and the nearby primary school is called Glastonbury Thorn School.
The Shenley Church End thorn tree appears to receive little care or attention. It is said to have an internal diameter of 2.15 metres and an external circumference of 8 metres, but its age has never been estimated.
The trunks of the Shenley tree continue to produce flowers or flower buds in winter. When I visited the bush earlier this week, it had no buds – but there are still 40 days to Christmas.
Patrick Comerford
We are preparing and rehearsing for the Advent and Christmas services in the choir at Saint Mary and Giles in Stony Stratford. One of the carols we have been rehearsing on Wednesday evenings is ‘The Crown of Roses’, with words by the radical Russian poet Aleksey Nikolayevich Pleshcheev (1825-1893), translated by Geoffrey Dearmer, to a setting by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky (1840-1893):
When Jesus Christ was yet a child
He had a garden small and wild,
Where he cherished roses fair,
And wove them into garlands there.
Now once, as summertime drew nigh,
There came a troop of children by,
And seeing roses on the tree,
With shouts they plucked them merrily.
‘Do you bind roses in your hair?’,
They cried, in scorn, to Jesus there.
The boy said humbly, ‘take, I pray,
All but the naked thorns away’.
Then of the thorns they made a crown,
And with rough fingers pressed it down,
Till on his forehead fair and young
Red drops of blood like roses sprung.
Holy Thorn Lane off Shenley Road, a few hundred metres south of Saint Mary’s Church, Shenley Church End (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Pleshcheev was a radical poet and part of the Petrashevsky Circle, and he was once arrested alongside Fyodor Dostoyevsky. Many of his poems have been set to music by Tchaikovsky and Rachmaninoff.
The carol’s translator, the poet and BBC editor Geoffrey Dearmer (1893-1996), was the son of the Anglican liturgist and hymn-writer ologist Percy Dearmer and the artist and writer Mabel Dearmer. Many of Dearmer’s war poems dealt with the overall brutality of war and violence.
The carol is a moving story of Jesus as a young boy quietly cultivating a peaceful beauty only to have this stripped bare by humanity, leaving only
… thorns they made a crown,
And with rough fingers pressed it down,
Till on his forehead fair and young
Red drops of blood like roses sprung.
The Glastonbury Thorn explained in a plaque by the bush in Shenley Church End (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Crowns of thorns are usually associated with Holy Week and the Passion narrative leading up to Easter, and not with Advent and the period leading up to Christmas. But earlier this week I was at a meeting of local Milton Keynes clergy in Saint Mary’s Church in Shenley Church End, and there I came across a story of flowering thorns or a flowering thorn bush that also has associations with Christmas rather than Holy Week and Easter, all close to a children’s play area.
Shenley Church End in Buckinghamshire is a village south of Stony Stratford and that has become part of Milton Keynes. There, a few hundred metres south of Saint Mary’s Church and the Old Rectory and off Shenley Road I found Holy Thorn Lane. Hidden away, in an almost-hidden and fenced-off dip of land off the lane, between a children’s play area and the half dozen or so houses on Sheepcoat Close, is a Holy Thorn bush or Glastonbury Thorn.
The thorn is a straggly bush rather than a tree, and appears to have about four rather slender trunks. This probably indicates that it is, indeed, ‘ancient’, the original trunk having split and rotted away, leaving younger trunks still growing. Looking at the spacing of the trunks, this disintegration of older trunks may have happened several times over the centuries.
The Glastonbury Thorn has been in Shenley Church End for so long that local lore says it was grown from a staff planted by the Pilgrim Fathers more than 400 years ago, before they sailed on the Mayflower in 1620.
An explanatory plaque inside the railed-off area seeks to tell its story:
‘Glastonbury Holy Thorn
‘This ancient thorn bush is believed to
have been grown from a cutting from the
famous hawthorn bush at Glastonbury.
The Glastonbury thorn bush is said to have
miraculously grown when Joseph of
Arimathea planted his staff in the ground.
According to Avalon Legend, following
the Crucifixion, Joseph came to England
bearing the Holy Grail. This bush, just like
the original Glastonbury Thorn, is said to
flower around Christmas Eve and crowds
have gathered each year to witness this.’
A Christmas image in a window in Saint Mary’s Church, Shenley End (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Everywhere the Pilgrim Father stopped on their way from Glastonbury, the legend says, they planted one of these thorns. Someone once took a cutting from the bush and planted it at Shenley. But the cutting had many siblings dotted across England, including Quainton, Eaton Bishop, Woodham Ferrers, and Kingsthorne and Orcup in Herefordshire.
In days gone by, access to the Glastonbury Thorn in Shenley involved a trudge across fields. A 19th century writer noted, ‘This “Holy Thorn” stands in a field by itself, and is partially railed round by old palisading. Each Christmastime it is said to burst out into bud. … in this neighbourhood no one disputes the fact that it does so. In the good old coaching days people used to, so I am told, make a point of visiting this particular “Holy Thorn” at Shenley, the field where it is being but a few hundred yards from the old Watling Street.’
In those days, people camped by huge bonfires waiting for the bushes to flower. More recently, developers wanted to root up the bush and build houses. But they were challenged by local people, a preservation order was in 1978, and it is now surrounded by a metal fence, and the nearby primary school is called Glastonbury Thorn School.
The Shenley Church End thorn tree appears to receive little care or attention. It is said to have an internal diameter of 2.15 metres and an external circumference of 8 metres, but its age has never been estimated.
The trunks of the Shenley tree continue to produce flowers or flower buds in winter. When I visited the bush earlier this week, it had no buds – but there are still 40 days to Christmas.
24 December 2024
Peace on Earth,
goodwill to all
The Irish Times today (24 December 2024) publishes the following full-length editorial:
As society becomes more secular and the churches continue to lose their influence in many aspects of life, more and more people are going to learn about the Christmas story not through sermons, prayers and Gospel readings, but through hearing carols and Christmas songs, in television drama or in the cribs in shop window displays.
None of this means that the Christmas story is losing its significance or its relevance, nor is it losing its ability to rekindle the core values and priorities of peace, goodwill and love among ordinary people.
If anything, these key values are finding new ways of being expressed, being spread and of being integrated into hearts and minds.
Since last Christmas, there have been constant, daily reminders of how we live in an increasingly fragile world, and how the core details of the nativity narrative are in greater need of being heard and told afresh.
Russia’s war of aggression against Ukraine calls on the world to heed again the plea in the Christmas carols for peace on earth and goodwill to all. Once again, there is no prospect of a Christmas truce in that war. Once again, there is no prospect of a Christmas truce in that war. Peace still seems some way off in this dreadful conflict.
The continuing devastating conflict engulfing Israel, Gaza and Palestine has added poignancy in these weeks to any reminders that this land is the location of the first Christmas.
This year, for the first time in 19 years, Christmas and Chanukah fall on the same day, and the eight-day Jewish Festival of Lights begins on the evening of Christmas Day. But light and enlightenment are dim and distant qualities that seem to be lacking in this conflict, and the people of Gaza and the remaining hostages from Israel are people who live in darkness and in the shadow of death.
It is long past time that they are freed from this terrible burden. Talks now underway on a long-overdue ceasefire in Gaza must be brought to a successful conclusion.
Recent events in Syria are a reminder that the Christmas story is a story shared by all people in that region. When Syrians celebrated the fall of the Assad regime at Friday prayers on December 13th, they converged in their thousands on the Umayyad Mosque, also known as the Great Mosque of Damascus. The Minaret of Jesus is the tallest of the three minarets of the mosque, and Muslims and Christians alike revere it as the burial place of the head of John the Baptist.
The story of John the Baptist is central to the Christmas story, but John the Baptist is also mentioned five times in the Qur’an, and he remains a key figure for the peacemakers who engage in Christian-Muslim dialogue.
In his popular hymn “Dear Lord and Father of Mankind”, John Greenleaf Whittier locates Christ’s ministry and miracles “by the Syrian Sea.” Syria is a central location in understanding the beginnings of Christianity: Saint Luke’s Gospel dates the first Christmas to the time “while Quirinius was governor of Syria” (Luke 2: 2); later, Saint Paul experiences his dramatic conversion on the road to Damascus (Acts 9: 1-22); and it was in Antioch, long a part of Syria, that the disciples are first called “Christians” (Acts 11: 25).
Although most Muslims do not celebrate Christmas, the birth of Jesus is described in two places in the Qur’an: Sura 3 (Al Imram) and Sura 19 (Maryam), and in popular Muslim belief the second coming or return of Jesus is to take place at the Umayyad Mosque in Damascus.
Wordsworth Longfellow bows his head in despair at a time of civil unrest and war and grieves: “There is no peace on earth … For hate is strong/ And mocks the song/ Of peace on earth, good-will to men!”
At this Christmas time, many are uncertain about Europe’s political stability – emphasised in the political uncertainty in France and Germany and compounded by the rise in the far-right across the Continent – and many, too, fear the prospect of a second Trump presidency.
Perhaps these fears and uncertainties find resonances in the time and place of the first Christmas story, a land torn by war, oppression and violence and ruled by despotic monarchs and governors, from Caesar Augustus and the capricious Herod to the self-serving Pilate.
Yet the Christmas carols in supermarkets and shops and on the streets bring “tidings of comfort and joy” and urge us all to “fear not” for peace and goodwill to all are at the heart of the Christmas message. They show that rulers, personified in the magi or three kings, can bring surprising gifts even to the lowly-born.
Christmas always brings hope and the promise of justice and peace, even if at times like this hope can seem in short supply. Longfellow’s despair ends when he hears the bells peal again, “more loud and deep”, and he concludes:
“God is not dead; nor doth he sleep!
The Wrong shall fail,
The Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good-will to men.”
As society becomes more secular and the churches continue to lose their influence in many aspects of life, more and more people are going to learn about the Christmas story not through sermons, prayers and Gospel readings, but through hearing carols and Christmas songs, in television drama or in the cribs in shop window displays.
None of this means that the Christmas story is losing its significance or its relevance, nor is it losing its ability to rekindle the core values and priorities of peace, goodwill and love among ordinary people.
If anything, these key values are finding new ways of being expressed, being spread and of being integrated into hearts and minds.
Since last Christmas, there have been constant, daily reminders of how we live in an increasingly fragile world, and how the core details of the nativity narrative are in greater need of being heard and told afresh.
Russia’s war of aggression against Ukraine calls on the world to heed again the plea in the Christmas carols for peace on earth and goodwill to all. Once again, there is no prospect of a Christmas truce in that war. Once again, there is no prospect of a Christmas truce in that war. Peace still seems some way off in this dreadful conflict.
The continuing devastating conflict engulfing Israel, Gaza and Palestine has added poignancy in these weeks to any reminders that this land is the location of the first Christmas.
This year, for the first time in 19 years, Christmas and Chanukah fall on the same day, and the eight-day Jewish Festival of Lights begins on the evening of Christmas Day. But light and enlightenment are dim and distant qualities that seem to be lacking in this conflict, and the people of Gaza and the remaining hostages from Israel are people who live in darkness and in the shadow of death.
It is long past time that they are freed from this terrible burden. Talks now underway on a long-overdue ceasefire in Gaza must be brought to a successful conclusion.
***
Recent events in Syria are a reminder that the Christmas story is a story shared by all people in that region. When Syrians celebrated the fall of the Assad regime at Friday prayers on December 13th, they converged in their thousands on the Umayyad Mosque, also known as the Great Mosque of Damascus. The Minaret of Jesus is the tallest of the three minarets of the mosque, and Muslims and Christians alike revere it as the burial place of the head of John the Baptist.
The story of John the Baptist is central to the Christmas story, but John the Baptist is also mentioned five times in the Qur’an, and he remains a key figure for the peacemakers who engage in Christian-Muslim dialogue.
In his popular hymn “Dear Lord and Father of Mankind”, John Greenleaf Whittier locates Christ’s ministry and miracles “by the Syrian Sea.” Syria is a central location in understanding the beginnings of Christianity: Saint Luke’s Gospel dates the first Christmas to the time “while Quirinius was governor of Syria” (Luke 2: 2); later, Saint Paul experiences his dramatic conversion on the road to Damascus (Acts 9: 1-22); and it was in Antioch, long a part of Syria, that the disciples are first called “Christians” (Acts 11: 25).
Although most Muslims do not celebrate Christmas, the birth of Jesus is described in two places in the Qur’an: Sura 3 (Al Imram) and Sura 19 (Maryam), and in popular Muslim belief the second coming or return of Jesus is to take place at the Umayyad Mosque in Damascus.
***
Wordsworth Longfellow bows his head in despair at a time of civil unrest and war and grieves: “There is no peace on earth … For hate is strong/ And mocks the song/ Of peace on earth, good-will to men!”
At this Christmas time, many are uncertain about Europe’s political stability – emphasised in the political uncertainty in France and Germany and compounded by the rise in the far-right across the Continent – and many, too, fear the prospect of a second Trump presidency.
Perhaps these fears and uncertainties find resonances in the time and place of the first Christmas story, a land torn by war, oppression and violence and ruled by despotic monarchs and governors, from Caesar Augustus and the capricious Herod to the self-serving Pilate.
Yet the Christmas carols in supermarkets and shops and on the streets bring “tidings of comfort and joy” and urge us all to “fear not” for peace and goodwill to all are at the heart of the Christmas message. They show that rulers, personified in the magi or three kings, can bring surprising gifts even to the lowly-born.
Christmas always brings hope and the promise of justice and peace, even if at times like this hope can seem in short supply. Longfellow’s despair ends when he hears the bells peal again, “more loud and deep”, and he concludes:
“God is not dead; nor doth he sleep!
The Wrong shall fail,
The Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good-will to men.”
Daily prayer in Advent 2024:
24, Tuesday 24 December 2024,
Christmas Eve
‘By the tender mercy of our God, the dawn from on high will break upon us’ (Luke 1: 78) … sunrise on the River Slaney at Ferrycarrig, near Wexford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Patrick Comerford
We come to the end of Advent today, and this evening is Christmas Eve. Later this evening, I hope to join the choir of Saint Mary and Saint Giles Church, Stony Stratford, singing carols in All Saints’ Church, Calverton, at 8:30 and at ‘Midnight Mass’ there at 9 pm.
Before today begins, I am taking some quiet time this morning to give thanks, to reflect, to pray and to read in these ways:
1, today’s Gospel reading;
2, a short reflection;
3, a prayer from the USPG prayer diary;
4, the Collects and Post-Communion prayer of the day.
‘By the tender mercy of our God, the dawn from on high will break upon us’ (Luke 1: 78) … a winter sunrise in Stony Stratford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)
Luke 1: 67-79 (NRSVA):
67 Then his father Zechariah was filled with the Holy Spirit and spoke this prophecy:
68 ‘Blessed be the Lord God of Israel,
for he has looked favourably on his people and redeemed them.
69 He has raised up a mighty saviour for us
in the house of his servant David,
70 as he spoke through the mouth of his holy prophets from of old,
71 that we would be saved from our enemies and from the hand of all who hate us.
72 Thus he has shown the mercy promised to our ancestors,
and has remembered his holy covenant,
73 the oath that he swore to our ancestor Abraham,
to grant us 74 that we, being rescued from the hands of our enemies,
might serve him without fear, 75 in holiness and righteousness
before him all our days.
76 And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Most High;
for you will go before the Lord to prepare his ways,
77 to give knowledge of salvation to his people
by the forgiveness of their sins.
78 By the tender mercy of our God,
the dawn from on high will break upon us,
79 to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death,
to guide our feet into the way of peace.’
‘To give light to those who sit in darkness’ (Luke 1: 79) … Christmas lights in winter darkness at Magdalene Bridge and the Backs in Cambridge (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024 )
Today’s Reflection:
In the Gospel reading at the Eucharist today (Luke 1: 67-79), we conclude a series of readings before Christmas that draw on the two nativity narratives found in Matthew 1: 1-24 and Luke 1: 5-79.
This reading continues on from the stories of the Visitation of the Virgin Mary to her cousin Saint Elizabeth and the account of the birth of Saint John the Baptist.
After the birth and naming of his son, Zechariah finds his speech is restored, and prophesies in a poetic speech that we have come to know as the canticle Benedictus.
The canticle naturally falls into two parts. Part 1 (verses 68-75) is a song of thanksgiving for the realisation of the Messianic hopes. In Part 2 (verses 76-79), Zechariah addresses his own son, who is to be a prophet, who will go before the Lord to prepare his ways, who will tell people of the good news of their salvation and forgiveness:
‘By the tender mercy of our God,
the dawn from on high will break upon us,
to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death,
to guide our feet into the way of peace.’
How many parents could say this with confidence, joy and love about their own children on this Christmas Eve?
The English Catholic theologian and writer Tina Beattie last week made a plea to parents, priests, teachers and anyone who has dealings with children in the build-up to Christmas. In a posting on Facebook, she asked them: ‘please never tell children that Santa only comes to good children, or that Santa won’t come if they’re naughty.’
‘There are thousands of good children to whom Santa won’t come because they live in poverty, dereliction or neglect,’ she pointed out. ‘But also, children so easily internalise a sense of blame and shame – for parental squabbles and separations, for bad things that happen to their families and friends. They don’t need to be threatened into good behaviour or made fearful that Santa won’t come because they misbehaved.’
And she concluded: ‘If you want them to have a sense of why gifts are given at Christmas, tell them that this is a time of gifts not because we’re good, but because God is good and loves them, whatever they do and whoever they are.’
The theologian Tina Beattie has pointed out that children ‘don’t need to be threatened into good behaviour or made fearful that Santa won’t come’ (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Today’s Prayers (Tuesday 24 December 2024, Christmas Eve):
The theme this week in ‘Pray With the World Church’, the Prayer Diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), is ‘Love – Advent’. This theme was introduced on Sunday with Reflections by the Revd Lopa Mudra Mistry, Presbyter in the Diocese of Calcutta, the Church of North India (CNI).
The USPG Prayer Diary today (Tuesday 24 December 2024, Christmas Eve) invites us to pray:
Thank you for the gift of salvation and the love that you have shown us through Jesus Christ.
The Collect:
Almighty God,
you make us glad with the yearly remembrance
of the birth of your Son Jesus Christ:
grant that, as we joyfully receive him as our redeemer,
so we may with sure confidence behold him
when he shall come to be our judge;
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.
The Post-Communion Prayer:
Eternal God, for whom we wait,
you have fed us with the bread of eternal life:
keep us ever watchful,
that we may be ready to stand before the Son of man,
Jesus Christ our Lord.
Additional Collect:
Almighty God,
as we prepare with joy
to celebrate the gift of the Christ-child,
embrace the earth with your glory
and be for us a living hope
in Jesus Christ our Lord.
Yesterday’s Reflection
Continued Tomorrow
‘To give light to those who sit in darkness’ (Luke 1: 79) … darkness and light in Kenilworth Square, Dublin, last week (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)
Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible: Anglicised Edition copyright © 1989, 1995 National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide. http://nrsvbibles.org
Patrick Comerford
We come to the end of Advent today, and this evening is Christmas Eve. Later this evening, I hope to join the choir of Saint Mary and Saint Giles Church, Stony Stratford, singing carols in All Saints’ Church, Calverton, at 8:30 and at ‘Midnight Mass’ there at 9 pm.
Before today begins, I am taking some quiet time this morning to give thanks, to reflect, to pray and to read in these ways:
1, today’s Gospel reading;
2, a short reflection;
3, a prayer from the USPG prayer diary;
4, the Collects and Post-Communion prayer of the day.
‘By the tender mercy of our God, the dawn from on high will break upon us’ (Luke 1: 78) … a winter sunrise in Stony Stratford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)
Luke 1: 67-79 (NRSVA):
67 Then his father Zechariah was filled with the Holy Spirit and spoke this prophecy:
68 ‘Blessed be the Lord God of Israel,
for he has looked favourably on his people and redeemed them.
69 He has raised up a mighty saviour for us
in the house of his servant David,
70 as he spoke through the mouth of his holy prophets from of old,
71 that we would be saved from our enemies and from the hand of all who hate us.
72 Thus he has shown the mercy promised to our ancestors,
and has remembered his holy covenant,
73 the oath that he swore to our ancestor Abraham,
to grant us 74 that we, being rescued from the hands of our enemies,
might serve him without fear, 75 in holiness and righteousness
before him all our days.
76 And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Most High;
for you will go before the Lord to prepare his ways,
77 to give knowledge of salvation to his people
by the forgiveness of their sins.
78 By the tender mercy of our God,
the dawn from on high will break upon us,
79 to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death,
to guide our feet into the way of peace.’
‘To give light to those who sit in darkness’ (Luke 1: 79) … Christmas lights in winter darkness at Magdalene Bridge and the Backs in Cambridge (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024 )
Today’s Reflection:
In the Gospel reading at the Eucharist today (Luke 1: 67-79), we conclude a series of readings before Christmas that draw on the two nativity narratives found in Matthew 1: 1-24 and Luke 1: 5-79.
This reading continues on from the stories of the Visitation of the Virgin Mary to her cousin Saint Elizabeth and the account of the birth of Saint John the Baptist.
After the birth and naming of his son, Zechariah finds his speech is restored, and prophesies in a poetic speech that we have come to know as the canticle Benedictus.
The canticle naturally falls into two parts. Part 1 (verses 68-75) is a song of thanksgiving for the realisation of the Messianic hopes. In Part 2 (verses 76-79), Zechariah addresses his own son, who is to be a prophet, who will go before the Lord to prepare his ways, who will tell people of the good news of their salvation and forgiveness:
‘By the tender mercy of our God,
the dawn from on high will break upon us,
to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death,
to guide our feet into the way of peace.’
How many parents could say this with confidence, joy and love about their own children on this Christmas Eve?
The English Catholic theologian and writer Tina Beattie last week made a plea to parents, priests, teachers and anyone who has dealings with children in the build-up to Christmas. In a posting on Facebook, she asked them: ‘please never tell children that Santa only comes to good children, or that Santa won’t come if they’re naughty.’
‘There are thousands of good children to whom Santa won’t come because they live in poverty, dereliction or neglect,’ she pointed out. ‘But also, children so easily internalise a sense of blame and shame – for parental squabbles and separations, for bad things that happen to their families and friends. They don’t need to be threatened into good behaviour or made fearful that Santa won’t come because they misbehaved.’
And she concluded: ‘If you want them to have a sense of why gifts are given at Christmas, tell them that this is a time of gifts not because we’re good, but because God is good and loves them, whatever they do and whoever they are.’
The theologian Tina Beattie has pointed out that children ‘don’t need to be threatened into good behaviour or made fearful that Santa won’t come’ (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Today’s Prayers (Tuesday 24 December 2024, Christmas Eve):
The theme this week in ‘Pray With the World Church’, the Prayer Diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), is ‘Love – Advent’. This theme was introduced on Sunday with Reflections by the Revd Lopa Mudra Mistry, Presbyter in the Diocese of Calcutta, the Church of North India (CNI).
The USPG Prayer Diary today (Tuesday 24 December 2024, Christmas Eve) invites us to pray:
Thank you for the gift of salvation and the love that you have shown us through Jesus Christ.
The Collect:
Almighty God,
you make us glad with the yearly remembrance
of the birth of your Son Jesus Christ:
grant that, as we joyfully receive him as our redeemer,
so we may with sure confidence behold him
when he shall come to be our judge;
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.
The Post-Communion Prayer:
Eternal God, for whom we wait,
you have fed us with the bread of eternal life:
keep us ever watchful,
that we may be ready to stand before the Son of man,
Jesus Christ our Lord.
Additional Collect:
Almighty God,
as we prepare with joy
to celebrate the gift of the Christ-child,
embrace the earth with your glory
and be for us a living hope
in Jesus Christ our Lord.
Yesterday’s Reflection
Continued Tomorrow
‘To give light to those who sit in darkness’ (Luke 1: 79) … darkness and light in Kenilworth Square, Dublin, last week (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)
Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible: Anglicised Edition copyright © 1989, 1995 National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide. http://nrsvbibles.org
23 December 2024
Christmas reading
with some Christmas,
Byzantine and Greek
thoughts and flavours
Manuel II Palaiologos on the cover of the Christmas edition of ‘History Today’ … his visit to England at Christmas 1400 ‘offers a window into a time when divisions between Eastern Orthodoxy and Western Catholicism’
Patrick Comerford
Books and journals are always welcome Christmas presents. And I have had extra time to catch up on my reading in recent weeks, with some long train journeys, a hospital visit and flights to Dublin since we got back from Kuching.
Over the next few days, I hope to become engrossed in some of those books, some other books I picked up in Oxford and Cambridge or have been asked to review, and on the bumper editions of favourite magazines, including New Statesman and Private Eye.
In recent days, I have been engrossed too in some papers and reviews published in the latest edition of History Today (volume 74 issue, December 2024). which, as you might expect, has some interesting Christmas reading, but also has papers with important findings in Greek and Byzantine studies.
Dr Katherine Kelaidis is a research fellow at the Institute for Orthodox Christian Studies in Cambridge and he Director of Research and Content at the National Hellenic Museum in Chicago. Her paper in the Christmas edition of History Today, ‘A Christmas to Save the Byzantine Empire’ (pp 28-39), recounts how the Byzantine emperor Manuel II Palaiologos was a guest of Henry IV in England at Christmas dinner at Eltham Palace, near Greenwich on Christmas Day 1400.
Although they were united by their Christian faith, these two monarchs were on separate sides of the East-West schism. So, she asks, ‘How did they celebrate?’
The embattled Byzantine emperor was on the final leg of a desperate tour across Europe in a last-ditch effort to encourage the powers of Western Christendom to come to the aid of his empire against the real threat of an Ottoman assault.
His father, John V, had visited Naples and Rome in 1369 in a failed attempt to end the schism between Western and Eastern Christianity. Otherwise, no Byzantine emperor had ever left the borders of his empire.
The mutual excommunications of Pope Leo IX and Patriarch Michael I in 1054 came to be viewed as the moment of final division between what would later become the Catholic west and the Orthodox west. However, as Dr Kelaidis points out, the idea of a ‘schism’ or even the use of the term did not appear with any regularity until the Reformation in the 16th century, and how the emperor and the king celebrated Christmas matters.
The division deepened in the 350 years between the initial schism in 1054 and Manuel’s tour in 1400. It seemed so deep as to be unbridgeable to the generations who came after the Ottoman conquest that Manuel had sought to prevent.
‘In reality, however, this was not the case’, she argues. ‘Indeed, the state of Eastern-Western ecclesiastical relations remained much more fluid than is commonly assumed.’ Manuel’s European tour and his Christmas in England reveals something often missed by historians: ‘the divisions and differences which split Christianity in the late medieval era were less real for those who lived through them.’
Manuel II Palaiologos meeting Henry IV, from the St Albans Chronicle, late 15th century (Lambeth Palace Library/Bridgeman Images)
Manuel’s entourage included a number of Orthodox priests, providing the emperor with spiritual and sacramental support. In Paris, they celebrated a public liturgy, perhaps at Sainte-Chapelle. A contemporary account says the Eastern rites were ‘unusual’ but that ‘everyone could attend’.
‘Differences in custom – perhaps even in theology – did not appear to stop a shared celebration of the Eucharist, the ultimate symbol of Christian unity,’ Dr Kelaidis notes.
She points out that while late mediaeval Christians, regardless of their divisions and loyalties, would have celebrated Easter in a largely similar fashion. However, the series of winter feast days between Christmas Day on 25 December and the Epiphany (or Theophany) on 6 January was a different story.
Christians had always celebrated the Resurrection, and Easter had been the central feast day in the Christian calendar from the earliest days. Christmas, however, was another matter, and celebrations associated with the winter solstice in northern Europe were transformed into the celebration of Christ’s birth. She argues, ‘It is for this reason that the Feast of the Nativity, the first of the 12 days of Christmas, celebrated on 25 December, is the only major Christian feast to have moved from West to East.’
She goes on to ask what Henry IV and Manuel II’s priests did regarding the celebration of the religious services that Christmas in 1400, including multiple Eucharistic services. There were significant differences between East and West in celebrating the Eucharist, including the Eastern use of leavened bread mixed into the chalice, and the Western use of unleavened bread and separate distribution of the wine and bread.
Dr Kelaidis notes how ‘later descriptions of the events – most of which are from the centuries after the Reformation, when the divisions within Christianity, and particularly divisions over the Eucharist and its proper form, were much more pronounced – tend to declare unquestioningly that neither the two rulers nor their priests would have celebrated together. This certainty is anachronistic at best.’
The Archangel Michael with Manuel II Palaiologos, 15th-century embroidery on silk (Bridgeman Images)
It is unclear whether there was a co-celebration or not, particularly since the English Church maintained a self-appointed autonomy from Rome, she argues. Both the English and the Byzantines saw the English Church as being semi-independent, and so not necessarily party to the growing division between Rome and Constantinople.
She notes, moreover, how there are plenty of instances, many well into the 18th century, of Eastern and Western priests co-celebrating the Eucharist when practical or political concerns were at play. English diplomats often received communion in Orthodox churches, both in Russia and in the Ottoman Empire, while Greek sailors aboard Spanish ships were communed by Catholic priests.
‘In the case of Christmas 1400, the question was not just of ceremonial importance. There were serious, worldly, concerns at stake. At the heart of Manuel’s pilgrimage to the West was a central premise: that the Christian Church, whatever conflicts or disagreements there might be, was still united and that Christian brothers ought to unite with one another against a common enemy. For this premise to hold, Manuel and his priests would have needed to emphasise the ways in which the Church of Christ remained united – or rather that they were still members of the One, Holy, True and Apostolic Church.’
Of course, she admits, ‘one might say that had such a momentous event as a co-celebration of the Eucharist occurred – had priests from Canterbury and priests from Constantinople celebrated the Eucharist together – there would most certainly have been some sort of record. But what if it was not as remarkable an occurrence as we, from our vantage point of 600 years, might think? In the four centuries between the so-called ‘Great Schism’ and Manuel’s arrival in England, relations between the Eastern and Western halves of the Christian world had ebbed and flowed. And co-celebration, if not common, was not unheard of. There is reason to think that it was possible – maybe even likely – that the priests of Henry’s court and those of Manuel’s celebrated together that Christmas.’
Beyond the immediate political concerns, she says, ‘this curious episode at Eltham Palace in 1400 offers a window into a time when divisions between Eastern Orthodoxy and Western Catholicism, though certainly present, had not yet hardened into the later, unbridgeable schisms that have come to define the received views of modern religious history.’
And that is food for ecumenical thinking at Christmas time.
Charles VI of France and Manuel II Palaiologos with delegations, from ‘The Travels of John Mandeville’, early 15th century (British Library/Bridgeman Images)
There are other Christmas and Greek themes in this delightful feast of history in the Christmas 2024 edition of History Today
The Greek themes are continued by Phiroze Vasunia, Professor of Greek at University College London, who looks at ‘How Ancient Greece Shaped the British Raj’ (pp 40-53). ‘British agents of empire saw their actions in India through the texts of their classical educations. They looked for Alexander, cast themselves as Aeneas and hoped to emulate Augustus.’
The Christmas themes continue with Matthew Lyons who questions the claims of William Strickland to have introduced the turkey to England. Strickland applied to have a turkey on his coat-of-arms in 1550. But his claim remains a puzzle to ponder over the Christmas dinner as the truth followed him to his grave when he died on 8 December 1598.
And, if you are enjoying the carols, the choirs and the church organs this Christmas, you might consider how the organ was a controversial instrument in many churches after the Reformation.
Anna Steppler is a junior research fellow in music at Peterhouse in Cambridge. In ‘Listen like a Lutheran’ (pp 62-71), she recalls that for much of the 200 years between Luther’s Reformation and Johann Sebastian Bach’s appointment to the Thomaskirche in Leipzig in 1723 ‘the instrument’s spiritual role was far from assured’ and in the debates between Calvinists and Lutherans, ‘the use of music in church was a particularly sensitive topic.’
Manuel II Palaiologos and Empress Helena crowned by the Virgin and Child with their sons, from a manuscript made in Constantinople, 1403-1405, presented by the emperor to the Abbey of St Denis following his tour (RMN-Grand Palais / Daniel Arnaudet/ Dist. Photo SCALA, Florence)
Patrick Comerford
Books and journals are always welcome Christmas presents. And I have had extra time to catch up on my reading in recent weeks, with some long train journeys, a hospital visit and flights to Dublin since we got back from Kuching.
Over the next few days, I hope to become engrossed in some of those books, some other books I picked up in Oxford and Cambridge or have been asked to review, and on the bumper editions of favourite magazines, including New Statesman and Private Eye.
In recent days, I have been engrossed too in some papers and reviews published in the latest edition of History Today (volume 74 issue, December 2024). which, as you might expect, has some interesting Christmas reading, but also has papers with important findings in Greek and Byzantine studies.
Dr Katherine Kelaidis is a research fellow at the Institute for Orthodox Christian Studies in Cambridge and he Director of Research and Content at the National Hellenic Museum in Chicago. Her paper in the Christmas edition of History Today, ‘A Christmas to Save the Byzantine Empire’ (pp 28-39), recounts how the Byzantine emperor Manuel II Palaiologos was a guest of Henry IV in England at Christmas dinner at Eltham Palace, near Greenwich on Christmas Day 1400.
Although they were united by their Christian faith, these two monarchs were on separate sides of the East-West schism. So, she asks, ‘How did they celebrate?’
The embattled Byzantine emperor was on the final leg of a desperate tour across Europe in a last-ditch effort to encourage the powers of Western Christendom to come to the aid of his empire against the real threat of an Ottoman assault.
His father, John V, had visited Naples and Rome in 1369 in a failed attempt to end the schism between Western and Eastern Christianity. Otherwise, no Byzantine emperor had ever left the borders of his empire.
The mutual excommunications of Pope Leo IX and Patriarch Michael I in 1054 came to be viewed as the moment of final division between what would later become the Catholic west and the Orthodox west. However, as Dr Kelaidis points out, the idea of a ‘schism’ or even the use of the term did not appear with any regularity until the Reformation in the 16th century, and how the emperor and the king celebrated Christmas matters.
The division deepened in the 350 years between the initial schism in 1054 and Manuel’s tour in 1400. It seemed so deep as to be unbridgeable to the generations who came after the Ottoman conquest that Manuel had sought to prevent.
‘In reality, however, this was not the case’, she argues. ‘Indeed, the state of Eastern-Western ecclesiastical relations remained much more fluid than is commonly assumed.’ Manuel’s European tour and his Christmas in England reveals something often missed by historians: ‘the divisions and differences which split Christianity in the late medieval era were less real for those who lived through them.’
Manuel II Palaiologos meeting Henry IV, from the St Albans Chronicle, late 15th century (Lambeth Palace Library/Bridgeman Images)
Manuel’s entourage included a number of Orthodox priests, providing the emperor with spiritual and sacramental support. In Paris, they celebrated a public liturgy, perhaps at Sainte-Chapelle. A contemporary account says the Eastern rites were ‘unusual’ but that ‘everyone could attend’.
‘Differences in custom – perhaps even in theology – did not appear to stop a shared celebration of the Eucharist, the ultimate symbol of Christian unity,’ Dr Kelaidis notes.
She points out that while late mediaeval Christians, regardless of their divisions and loyalties, would have celebrated Easter in a largely similar fashion. However, the series of winter feast days between Christmas Day on 25 December and the Epiphany (or Theophany) on 6 January was a different story.
Christians had always celebrated the Resurrection, and Easter had been the central feast day in the Christian calendar from the earliest days. Christmas, however, was another matter, and celebrations associated with the winter solstice in northern Europe were transformed into the celebration of Christ’s birth. She argues, ‘It is for this reason that the Feast of the Nativity, the first of the 12 days of Christmas, celebrated on 25 December, is the only major Christian feast to have moved from West to East.’
She goes on to ask what Henry IV and Manuel II’s priests did regarding the celebration of the religious services that Christmas in 1400, including multiple Eucharistic services. There were significant differences between East and West in celebrating the Eucharist, including the Eastern use of leavened bread mixed into the chalice, and the Western use of unleavened bread and separate distribution of the wine and bread.
Dr Kelaidis notes how ‘later descriptions of the events – most of which are from the centuries after the Reformation, when the divisions within Christianity, and particularly divisions over the Eucharist and its proper form, were much more pronounced – tend to declare unquestioningly that neither the two rulers nor their priests would have celebrated together. This certainty is anachronistic at best.’
The Archangel Michael with Manuel II Palaiologos, 15th-century embroidery on silk (Bridgeman Images)
It is unclear whether there was a co-celebration or not, particularly since the English Church maintained a self-appointed autonomy from Rome, she argues. Both the English and the Byzantines saw the English Church as being semi-independent, and so not necessarily party to the growing division between Rome and Constantinople.
She notes, moreover, how there are plenty of instances, many well into the 18th century, of Eastern and Western priests co-celebrating the Eucharist when practical or political concerns were at play. English diplomats often received communion in Orthodox churches, both in Russia and in the Ottoman Empire, while Greek sailors aboard Spanish ships were communed by Catholic priests.
‘In the case of Christmas 1400, the question was not just of ceremonial importance. There were serious, worldly, concerns at stake. At the heart of Manuel’s pilgrimage to the West was a central premise: that the Christian Church, whatever conflicts or disagreements there might be, was still united and that Christian brothers ought to unite with one another against a common enemy. For this premise to hold, Manuel and his priests would have needed to emphasise the ways in which the Church of Christ remained united – or rather that they were still members of the One, Holy, True and Apostolic Church.’
Of course, she admits, ‘one might say that had such a momentous event as a co-celebration of the Eucharist occurred – had priests from Canterbury and priests from Constantinople celebrated the Eucharist together – there would most certainly have been some sort of record. But what if it was not as remarkable an occurrence as we, from our vantage point of 600 years, might think? In the four centuries between the so-called ‘Great Schism’ and Manuel’s arrival in England, relations between the Eastern and Western halves of the Christian world had ebbed and flowed. And co-celebration, if not common, was not unheard of. There is reason to think that it was possible – maybe even likely – that the priests of Henry’s court and those of Manuel’s celebrated together that Christmas.’
Beyond the immediate political concerns, she says, ‘this curious episode at Eltham Palace in 1400 offers a window into a time when divisions between Eastern Orthodoxy and Western Catholicism, though certainly present, had not yet hardened into the later, unbridgeable schisms that have come to define the received views of modern religious history.’
And that is food for ecumenical thinking at Christmas time.
Charles VI of France and Manuel II Palaiologos with delegations, from ‘The Travels of John Mandeville’, early 15th century (British Library/Bridgeman Images)
There are other Christmas and Greek themes in this delightful feast of history in the Christmas 2024 edition of History Today
The Greek themes are continued by Phiroze Vasunia, Professor of Greek at University College London, who looks at ‘How Ancient Greece Shaped the British Raj’ (pp 40-53). ‘British agents of empire saw their actions in India through the texts of their classical educations. They looked for Alexander, cast themselves as Aeneas and hoped to emulate Augustus.’
The Christmas themes continue with Matthew Lyons who questions the claims of William Strickland to have introduced the turkey to England. Strickland applied to have a turkey on his coat-of-arms in 1550. But his claim remains a puzzle to ponder over the Christmas dinner as the truth followed him to his grave when he died on 8 December 1598.
And, if you are enjoying the carols, the choirs and the church organs this Christmas, you might consider how the organ was a controversial instrument in many churches after the Reformation.
Anna Steppler is a junior research fellow in music at Peterhouse in Cambridge. In ‘Listen like a Lutheran’ (pp 62-71), she recalls that for much of the 200 years between Luther’s Reformation and Johann Sebastian Bach’s appointment to the Thomaskirche in Leipzig in 1723 ‘the instrument’s spiritual role was far from assured’ and in the debates between Calvinists and Lutherans, ‘the use of music in church was a particularly sensitive topic.’
Manuel II Palaiologos and Empress Helena crowned by the Virgin and Child with their sons, from a manuscript made in Constantinople, 1403-1405, presented by the emperor to the Abbey of St Denis following his tour (RMN-Grand Palais / Daniel Arnaudet/ Dist. Photo SCALA, Florence)
Daily prayer in Advent 2024:
23, Monday 23 December 2024
Saint John the Baptist with his parents, Saint Zechariah and Saint Elizabeth, in a mosaic at the Monastery of Saint John the Baptist in Tolleshunt Knights, Essex (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Patrick Comerford
We are drawing near to the end of Advent, yesterday was the Fourth Sunday of Advent (Advent IV) and tomorrow is Christmas Eve.
Before today begins, I am taking some quiet time this morning to give thanks, to reflect, to pray and to read in these ways:
1, today’s Gospel reading;
2, a short reflection;
3, a prayer from the USPG prayer diary;
4, the Collects and Post-Communion prayer of the day.
A priest’s hands raised for the blessing of the cohanim … a gravestone in the new Jewish cemetery on the Lido in Venice (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Luke 1: 57-66 (NRSVA):
57 Now the time came for Elizabeth to give birth, and she bore a son. 58 Her neighbours and relatives heard that the Lord had shown his great mercy to her, and they rejoiced with her.
59 On the eighth day they came to circumcise the child, and they were going to name him Zechariah after his father. 60 But his mother said, ‘No; he is to be called John.’ 61 They said to her, ‘None of your relatives has this name.’ 62 Then they began motioning to his father to find out what name he wanted to give him. 63 He asked for a writing-tablet and wrote, ‘His name is John.’ And all of them were amazed. 64 Immediately his mouth was opened and his tongue freed, and he began to speak, praising God. 65 Fear came over all their neighbours, and all these things were talked about throughout the entire hill country of Judea. 66 All who heard them pondered them and said, ‘What then will this child become?’ For, indeed, the hand of the Lord was with him.
Dreidels in a synagogue in Prague, part of children’s games at Hanukkah … did John the Baptist and Jesus spin dredels together at Hanukkah? (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Today’s Reflection:
In the Gospel reading at the Eucharist today (Luke 1: 57-66), we continue a series of readings before Christmas that draw on the two nativity narratives found in Matthew 1: 1-24 and Luke 1: 5-79.
During the week before Christmas, the great canticle Magnificat at Evensong traditionally has a refrain or antiphon attached to it proclaiming the ascriptions or ‘names’ given to God through the Old Testament. Each name develops into a prophecy of the coming of the Messiah.
O Sapientia, or O Wisdom, is the first of these days, and was marked on Tuesday (17 December). It was followed on Wednesday (18 December) by O Adonai, by O Root of Jesse on Thursday (19 December), O Key of David on Friday (20 December), O Dayspring on Saturday (21 December), O King of the Nations yesterday (22 December), and, finally O Emmanuel today (23 December).
The seven majestic Messianic titles for Christ are based on Biblical prophecies, and they help the Church to recall the variety of the ills of humanity before the coming of the Redeemer as each antiphon in turn pleads with mounting impatience for Christ to save his people.
The Gospel reading at the Eucharist today (Luke 1: 57-66) continues on from the story of the Visitation of the Virgin Mary to her cousin Saint Elizabeth, with the only Gospel account of the birth, circumcision and naming of Saint John the Baptist.
Zechariah (זְכַרְיָה or Ζαχαρίας), also named in translations as Zacharias, Zachariah and Zachary, the husband of Elizabeth and the father of John the Baptist, is a priest, one of the cohanim descended from the sons of Aaron. Origen suggests that the Zechariah mentioned in Matthew 23:35 as being killed between the temple and the altar may be the father of John the Baptist.
His name means ‘remember Yah’ or ‘remember God’ or ‘God remembers’. There are several Biblical figures with the name, including the Prophet Zachariah in Judah, a martyred son of a high priest, a king who reigned in Judah for six months, and several minor characters.
On the other hand, the Greek name Ἰωάννης (Ioannes) is a rendering of the Hebrew name Yohanan (יוֹחָנָן), a shorter form of the name Yəhôḥānān (יְהוֹחָנָן), which means ‘God is gracious’.
In the Hebrew Bible, Yohanan was the son of King Josiah of Judah (7th century BCE); Yohanan, son of Kareah, was a leader of the army who led the remnant of the population of Judah to Egypt for safety after the Babylonian dismantling of the kingdom in 586 BCE; Yohanan ben Yehoyada is a high priest named in the Book of Nehemiah and was the fourth in the line of high priests after Joshua the High Priest, who returned from the Babylonian captivity with Zerubbabel.
During the Hasmonean or Maccabean period, Yohanan was the father of Matityahu; John Gaddi, oldest of the sons of Mattathias and brother of Judas Maccabeus, was one of the leaders of the revolt of the Maccabees in the 2nd century BCE; John Hyrcanus was a Maccabean leader and Jewish high priest from 134 BCE until his death in 104 BCE; and John Hyrcanus II (1st century BCE) was a member of the Hasmonean dynasty, High Priest, King, and ethnarch of Judea.
So, the name John, in its variant forms, was both a priestly and a royal name, and was associated with the leaders of resistance to occupation and resistance.
In idle moments, I sometimes wonder whether Jesus and John grew up knowing each other.
Did Mary and Joseph regularly visit Zechariah and Elizabeth?
Was Zechariah present as a priest in the Temple at the Presentation, or when the teenage Jesus was lost in the Temple?
Did Jesus and John send birthday greetings to one another?
Did they go to each other’s bar mitzvah?
Did they celebrate and major holidays of Holy Days together … Purim, Passover, Shavuot, Sukkot, Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, Simchat Torah, Hanukkah … ?
Did they dress up together at Purim?
Did they spin dreidels with each other and play games together at Chanukah? – Incidentally, Christmas Day and the first day of Hanukkah fall on the same day this year, for the first time in 19 years.
Did John the Baptist ever take up his duties and responsibilities as a priest in the Temple before going into the Wilderness?
Was he in the Temple when Jesus visited, healed, taught, debated Caesar’s coins, or overturned the tables of the moneychangers?
Did John offer Jesus the priestly blessing that the cohanim alone impart?
The priestly blessing (Numbers 6: 24-26) that Zechariah and John would have pronounced, with their hands outstretched in the traditional way, is:
May the Lord bless and protect you.
May the Lord make his face shine on you and be gracious to you
May the Lord turn his face toward you, and give you peace.
The Priestly Blessing (ברכת כהנים, birkat cohanim) is known in rabbinic literature as raising the hands or rising to the platform because the blessing is given from a raised rostrum.
The Jewish Sages stressed that although the priests are the ones carrying out the blessing, it is not them or the ceremonial practice of raising their hands that results in the blessing, but rather it is God’s desire that his blessing should be symbolised by the hands of the cohanim.
The former Chief Rabbi, the late Lord (Jonathan) Sacks, says the Torah explicitly says that though the cohanim say the words, it is God who sends the blessing: ‘When the cohanim bless the people, they are not doing anything in and of themselves. Instead they are acting as channels through which God’s blessing flows into the world and into our lives.’
He adds, ‘Only love does this. Love means that we are focused not on ourselves but on another. Love is selflessness. And only selflessness allows us to be a channel through which flows a force greater than ourselves, the love that as Dante said, “moves the sun and the other stars”, the love that brings new life into the world.’
Hands raised in the priestly blessing on a gravestone in the Jewish cemetery in Kraków (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Today’s Prayers (Monday 23 December 2024):
The theme this week in ‘Pray With the World Church’, the Prayer Diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), is ‘Love – Advent’. This theme was introduced yesterday with Reflections by the Revd Lopa Mudra Mistry, Presbyter in the Diocese of Calcutta, the Church of North India (CNI).
The USPG Prayer Diary today (Monday 23 December 2024) invites us to pray:
Father, as we await your coming, may today be filled with peace and free of any distractions that lead our heart away from you.
The Collect:
God our redeemer,
who prepared the Blessed Virgin Mary
to be the mother of your Son:
grant that, as she looked for his coming as our saviour,
so we may be ready to greet him
when he comes again as our judge;
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.
The Post-Communion Prayer:
Heavenly Father,
who chose the Blessed Virgin Mary
to be the mother of the promised saviour
: fill us your servants with your grace,
that in all things we may embrace your holy will
and with her rejoice in your salvation;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Additional Collect:
Eternal God,
as Mary waited for the birth of your Son,
so we wait for his coming in glory;
bring us through the birth pangs of this present age
to see, with her, our great salvation
in Jesus Christ our Lord.
Yesterday’s Reflection
Continued Tomorrow
Hands raised in the priestly blessing on a Holocaust memorial in Berlin (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible: Anglicised Edition copyright © 1989, 1995 National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide. http://nrsvbibles.org
Patrick Comerford
We are drawing near to the end of Advent, yesterday was the Fourth Sunday of Advent (Advent IV) and tomorrow is Christmas Eve.
Before today begins, I am taking some quiet time this morning to give thanks, to reflect, to pray and to read in these ways:
1, today’s Gospel reading;
2, a short reflection;
3, a prayer from the USPG prayer diary;
4, the Collects and Post-Communion prayer of the day.
A priest’s hands raised for the blessing of the cohanim … a gravestone in the new Jewish cemetery on the Lido in Venice (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Luke 1: 57-66 (NRSVA):
57 Now the time came for Elizabeth to give birth, and she bore a son. 58 Her neighbours and relatives heard that the Lord had shown his great mercy to her, and they rejoiced with her.
59 On the eighth day they came to circumcise the child, and they were going to name him Zechariah after his father. 60 But his mother said, ‘No; he is to be called John.’ 61 They said to her, ‘None of your relatives has this name.’ 62 Then they began motioning to his father to find out what name he wanted to give him. 63 He asked for a writing-tablet and wrote, ‘His name is John.’ And all of them were amazed. 64 Immediately his mouth was opened and his tongue freed, and he began to speak, praising God. 65 Fear came over all their neighbours, and all these things were talked about throughout the entire hill country of Judea. 66 All who heard them pondered them and said, ‘What then will this child become?’ For, indeed, the hand of the Lord was with him.
Dreidels in a synagogue in Prague, part of children’s games at Hanukkah … did John the Baptist and Jesus spin dredels together at Hanukkah? (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Today’s Reflection:
In the Gospel reading at the Eucharist today (Luke 1: 57-66), we continue a series of readings before Christmas that draw on the two nativity narratives found in Matthew 1: 1-24 and Luke 1: 5-79.
During the week before Christmas, the great canticle Magnificat at Evensong traditionally has a refrain or antiphon attached to it proclaiming the ascriptions or ‘names’ given to God through the Old Testament. Each name develops into a prophecy of the coming of the Messiah.
O Sapientia, or O Wisdom, is the first of these days, and was marked on Tuesday (17 December). It was followed on Wednesday (18 December) by O Adonai, by O Root of Jesse on Thursday (19 December), O Key of David on Friday (20 December), O Dayspring on Saturday (21 December), O King of the Nations yesterday (22 December), and, finally O Emmanuel today (23 December).
The seven majestic Messianic titles for Christ are based on Biblical prophecies, and they help the Church to recall the variety of the ills of humanity before the coming of the Redeemer as each antiphon in turn pleads with mounting impatience for Christ to save his people.
The Gospel reading at the Eucharist today (Luke 1: 57-66) continues on from the story of the Visitation of the Virgin Mary to her cousin Saint Elizabeth, with the only Gospel account of the birth, circumcision and naming of Saint John the Baptist.
Zechariah (זְכַרְיָה or Ζαχαρίας), also named in translations as Zacharias, Zachariah and Zachary, the husband of Elizabeth and the father of John the Baptist, is a priest, one of the cohanim descended from the sons of Aaron. Origen suggests that the Zechariah mentioned in Matthew 23:35 as being killed between the temple and the altar may be the father of John the Baptist.
His name means ‘remember Yah’ or ‘remember God’ or ‘God remembers’. There are several Biblical figures with the name, including the Prophet Zachariah in Judah, a martyred son of a high priest, a king who reigned in Judah for six months, and several minor characters.
On the other hand, the Greek name Ἰωάννης (Ioannes) is a rendering of the Hebrew name Yohanan (יוֹחָנָן), a shorter form of the name Yəhôḥānān (יְהוֹחָנָן), which means ‘God is gracious’.
In the Hebrew Bible, Yohanan was the son of King Josiah of Judah (7th century BCE); Yohanan, son of Kareah, was a leader of the army who led the remnant of the population of Judah to Egypt for safety after the Babylonian dismantling of the kingdom in 586 BCE; Yohanan ben Yehoyada is a high priest named in the Book of Nehemiah and was the fourth in the line of high priests after Joshua the High Priest, who returned from the Babylonian captivity with Zerubbabel.
During the Hasmonean or Maccabean period, Yohanan was the father of Matityahu; John Gaddi, oldest of the sons of Mattathias and brother of Judas Maccabeus, was one of the leaders of the revolt of the Maccabees in the 2nd century BCE; John Hyrcanus was a Maccabean leader and Jewish high priest from 134 BCE until his death in 104 BCE; and John Hyrcanus II (1st century BCE) was a member of the Hasmonean dynasty, High Priest, King, and ethnarch of Judea.
So, the name John, in its variant forms, was both a priestly and a royal name, and was associated with the leaders of resistance to occupation and resistance.
In idle moments, I sometimes wonder whether Jesus and John grew up knowing each other.
Did Mary and Joseph regularly visit Zechariah and Elizabeth?
Was Zechariah present as a priest in the Temple at the Presentation, or when the teenage Jesus was lost in the Temple?
Did Jesus and John send birthday greetings to one another?
Did they go to each other’s bar mitzvah?
Did they celebrate and major holidays of Holy Days together … Purim, Passover, Shavuot, Sukkot, Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, Simchat Torah, Hanukkah … ?
Did they dress up together at Purim?
Did they spin dreidels with each other and play games together at Chanukah? – Incidentally, Christmas Day and the first day of Hanukkah fall on the same day this year, for the first time in 19 years.
Did John the Baptist ever take up his duties and responsibilities as a priest in the Temple before going into the Wilderness?
Was he in the Temple when Jesus visited, healed, taught, debated Caesar’s coins, or overturned the tables of the moneychangers?
Did John offer Jesus the priestly blessing that the cohanim alone impart?
The priestly blessing (Numbers 6: 24-26) that Zechariah and John would have pronounced, with their hands outstretched in the traditional way, is:
May the Lord bless and protect you.
May the Lord make his face shine on you and be gracious to you
May the Lord turn his face toward you, and give you peace.
The Priestly Blessing (ברכת כהנים, birkat cohanim) is known in rabbinic literature as raising the hands or rising to the platform because the blessing is given from a raised rostrum.
The Jewish Sages stressed that although the priests are the ones carrying out the blessing, it is not them or the ceremonial practice of raising their hands that results in the blessing, but rather it is God’s desire that his blessing should be symbolised by the hands of the cohanim.
The former Chief Rabbi, the late Lord (Jonathan) Sacks, says the Torah explicitly says that though the cohanim say the words, it is God who sends the blessing: ‘When the cohanim bless the people, they are not doing anything in and of themselves. Instead they are acting as channels through which God’s blessing flows into the world and into our lives.’
He adds, ‘Only love does this. Love means that we are focused not on ourselves but on another. Love is selflessness. And only selflessness allows us to be a channel through which flows a force greater than ourselves, the love that as Dante said, “moves the sun and the other stars”, the love that brings new life into the world.’
Hands raised in the priestly blessing on a gravestone in the Jewish cemetery in Kraków (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Today’s Prayers (Monday 23 December 2024):
The theme this week in ‘Pray With the World Church’, the Prayer Diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), is ‘Love – Advent’. This theme was introduced yesterday with Reflections by the Revd Lopa Mudra Mistry, Presbyter in the Diocese of Calcutta, the Church of North India (CNI).
The USPG Prayer Diary today (Monday 23 December 2024) invites us to pray:
Father, as we await your coming, may today be filled with peace and free of any distractions that lead our heart away from you.
The Collect:
God our redeemer,
who prepared the Blessed Virgin Mary
to be the mother of your Son:
grant that, as she looked for his coming as our saviour,
so we may be ready to greet him
when he comes again as our judge;
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.
The Post-Communion Prayer:
Heavenly Father,
who chose the Blessed Virgin Mary
to be the mother of the promised saviour
: fill us your servants with your grace,
that in all things we may embrace your holy will
and with her rejoice in your salvation;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Additional Collect:
Eternal God,
as Mary waited for the birth of your Son,
so we wait for his coming in glory;
bring us through the birth pangs of this present age
to see, with her, our great salvation
in Jesus Christ our Lord.
Yesterday’s Reflection
Continued Tomorrow
Hands raised in the priestly blessing on a Holocaust memorial in Berlin (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible: Anglicised Edition copyright © 1989, 1995 National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide. http://nrsvbibles.org
24 December 2023
A favourite carol
on Christmas Eve
with strong links
with Lichfield Cathedral
Canon Frederick Oakeley, author of ‘O come, all ye faithful’
Patrick Comerford
It is Christmas Eve and I am almost ‘all-carolled out’. Well not quite. But in recent weeks I have been singing with the choir at carol services in Saint Mary and Saint George Church, Stony Stratford, and All Saints’ Church, Calverton, I have enjoyed the carol singers outside Saint Ann’s Church in Dawson Street, Dublin, and I have written papers about the ‘Wexford Carol’ and ‘We three kings of Orient are,’ in Salvador Ryan’s new book Christmas and the Irish, launched in Dublin a few weeks ago.
There were carols last night in Holy Trinity Church, Old Wolverton, and more carols at the Parish Eucharist in Stony Stratford this morning.
Undoubtedly, one of the best-loved Christmas carols, and one we sang in Old Wolverton last night, is ‘O come, all ye faithful’, and it has strong links with Lichfield, and with Lichfield Cathedral and the Cathedral Close.
This carol is sometimes known by its Latin name, Adeste Fideles, which may explain why it is described as a mediaeval hymn. But the writer who made it popular in English was a priest in the Church of England, a canon of Lichfield Cathedral and an Oxford don for many years before becoming a Roman Catholic and a canon of Westminster Cathedral.
The earliest version of this popular carol dates from around 1743. Bishop Edward Darling and Donald Davison suggest the hymn – or at least the first four stanzas – and the tune may have been written by John Francis Wade (1711-1786), an English exile in Douay. Six manuscript copies of this version survive – a seventh was stolen from Clongowes Wood College, Co Kildare, in the last century.
As early as 1797, the Latin hymn was sung in London at the Chapel of the Portuguese Embassy, where Vincent Novello was the organist. He claimed it was written a century earlier by John Reading, the organist of Winchester Cathedral (1675-1681).
The carol has been translated into English and many other languages. But the most popular version begins with the opening words by Canon Frederick Oakeley: ‘O come, all ye faithful, joyfully triumphant,’ or, ‘O come, all ye faithful, joyful and triumphant.’
Winter evening lights at Lichfield Cathedral … Frederick Oakeley wrote ‘O come, all ye faithful’ while he was a canon of Lichfield Cathedral (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2023)
Frederick Oakeley (1802-1880) is best known for this carol. But, while he ended his days as a Roman Catholic priest, he spent his childhood in Lichfield, was a canon of Lichfield Cathedral in the 1830s and 1840s, and when he became a Roman Catholic priest he returned to Lichfield to say his first Mass.
Frederick Oakeley was born at his grandfather’s vicarage, the Abbey House in Shrewsbury, on 5 September 1802, a son of Sir Charles Oakeley (1751-1826). Sir Charles was born in Forton, Staffordshire, where his father, the Revd William Oakeley (1717-1803), was the Rector of Forton before moving to Shrewsbury.
Sir Charles Oakeley was a colonial administrator in India. He returned to England in 1789, was made a baronet the following year, and then returned to India as the Governor of Madras (1790-1794). When he returned to England once again, he moved into at the Abbey House, his father’s vicarage, and it was there the hymn-writer Frederick was born in 1802.
A childhood accident when he was three left Frederick disabled for many months, and for the rest of his life he was sickly and walked with a limp.
When Frederick was eight, the Oakeley family moved to Lichfield and into the Bishop’s Palace in the Cathedral Close, in 1810. Sir Charles was offered the Palace at a nominal rent on condition that he would restore the building, then in a sorry state. At the time, the Bishop of Lichfield was living at Eccleshall near Stafford. The Oakeley family moved into the Palace following the death in 1809 of the Lichfield poet, Anna Seward, who had continued to live there after the death of her father, Canon Thomas Seward, in 1790.
Each day, Sir Charles attended Morning Prayer in Lichfield Cathedral. His son later remembered him as pious, devout and humble, and the standard of music in the cathedral added to his pleasure in attending daily services. Frederick also recalled how as boy of eight the cathedral organist allowed him to play the organ to accompany the psalms at the daily services.
The Bishop’s Palace, Lichfield … now a school and once the childhood home of Frederick Oakeley (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Poor health often prevented Frederick from leaving home for school until the age of 14, when he had a late start at Lichfield Grammar School. A year after entering Lichfield Grammar School, Oakeley was sent from Lichfield in 1817 to Canon Charles Sumner for private tuition. Sumner was then the curate at Highclere, near Newbury, Hampshire. Highclere Castle was the home of the Earl of Carnarvon, and has become known in recent years as the location for Downton Abbey.
Frederick spent three years at Highclere, but returned for holidays with his parents in Lichfield, and was often homesick for Lichfield when he returned to Highclere.
He entered Christ Church, Oxford, in 1820, graduated BA in 1824, and won prizes in Latin, English and theology. But while he was still at Oxford, his father, Sir Charles Oakeley, died at the Palace in Lichfield in 1826. He was buried in Forton, and there is a monument to him by Sir Francis Chantrey in the North Transept of Lichfield Cathedral.
The monument to Sir Charles Oakeley in the North Transept of Lichfield Cathedral (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2023)
Frederick Oakeley was elected to a chaplain fellowship at Balliol College, Oxford. He was ordained deacon by the Bishop of London in the Chapel Royal in Whitehall in 1828 and ordained priest a week later in Saint Paul’s Cathedral, London, by his former tutor, Charles Sumner, then Bishop of Llandaff and Dean of Saint Paul’s. Oakeley remained a fellow of Balliol College until 1845, and was also tutor, Senior Dean, a lecturer, and one of the public examiners to Oxford University.
Oakeley was installed as the Prebendary of Dassett Parva in Lichfield Cathedral on 11 February 1832, on the nomination of Bishop Henry Ryder, whose kneeling statue by Sir Francis Legatt Chantrey is in the north transept in Lichfield Cathedral. As a canon, Oakeley dutifully returned to Lichfield Cathedral each year to preach on the Sixth Sunday after Epiphany and he remained a canon of Lichfield until 1845.
While Oakeley was a fellow of Balliol College, he helped secure the election to a fellowship of his lifelong friend and former pupil Archibald Campbell Tait, later Archbishop of Canterbury. At Balliol, he also became a close friend of William George Ward, and they both joined the Tractarian party.
The Bishop of London, Charles Blomfield, appointed Oakeley Whitehall Preacher in 1837, but he remained a fellow of Balliol. In the preface to his first volume of Whitehall Sermons (1837) he declared himself a member of the Oxford Movement. In 1839, he became the incumbent of the Margaret Chapel, the predecessor of All Saints’ Church, Margaret Street, London. In his six years there, Oakeley introduced High Church liturgical practices, and his friends there included the future Prime Minister, William Gladstone, and Sir Alexander Beresford-Hope, who supervised William Butterfield’s building of All Saints’ Church (1850-1859).
Canon Frederick Oakeley’s stall in Lichfield Cathedral as Prebendary of Dassett Parva (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Oakeley translated ‘O Come All Ye Faithful’ for his congregation in London in 1840, while he was still a canon of Lichfield Cathedral. His original translation began: ‘Ye faithful, approach ye.’ But in 1845 he rewrote the opening words: ‘O come, all ye faithful, Joyfully triumphant.’ Its inclusion in Francis H Murray’s Hymnal in 1852 gave Oakley a permanent place in the history of hymnology and the traditions of Christmas.
Oakeley stood by his Tractarian friend, Charles Lloyd, Regius Professor of Divinity in Oxford, when he was condemned in 1845. In two pamphlets published in London and Oxford, Oakeley defended Tract XC and asserted that he held, ‘as distinct from teaching, all Roman doctrine.’ He was brought before the Court of Arches by Bishop Blomfield, and in July 1845 he was suspended until he ‘retracted his errors.’
He resigned as a canon of Lichfield Cathedral and from all his other appointments in the Church of England on 28 October 1845, and moved into Cardinal John Henry Newman’s community at Littlemore in Oxford. The following day, he was received into the Roman Catholic Church, and on 31 October he was confirmed in Birmingham by Cardinal Nicholas Wiseman.
He was ordained a Roman Catholic priest by Cardinal Wiseman in 1847 and he returned to Lichfield to celebrate his first Mass in Holy Cross Church, Upper John Street, with the 86-year-old scholarly Dr John Kirk, who had been Parish Priest of Lichfield when Oakeley was still a child in the Cathedral Close.
Oakeley joined the staff of Saint George’s, Southwark, took charge of Saint John’s, Islington, and was made a canon of Westminster Cathedral. For many years, he worked among the poor in his diocese, and from the 1860s on he was a regular contributor to the Dublin Review, and eventually became its joint editor. He died in Islington on 29 January 1880, and was buried in Saint Mary’s Roman Catholic Cemetery, Kensal Green.
Frederick Oakeley’s sister Henrietta, wife of John Mott (1787-1869), Mayor of Lichfield in 1850
Frederick Oakeley was short-sighted, small of stature and lame, and it is said he exercised a wide influence through his personality, his writings, and the charm of his conversation. Richard Church, Dean of Saint Paul’s Cathedral, London (1870-1891), and an early historian of the Oxford Movement, said Oakeley ‘was, perhaps, the first to realise the capacities of the Anglican ritual for impressive devotional use.’
Oakeley’s widowed mother, Helena, continued living in the Bishop’s Palace in Lichfield until her death in 1838. His brother, Sir Herbert Oakeley (1791-1845), succeeded to the family title and was Archdeacon of Colchester. When the Bishopric of Gibraltar was founded in 1842, it was offered to Archdeacon Oakeley, but he declined it.
Their sister, Henrietta, married John Mott (1787–1869) of No 20 The Close, Lichfield, who was Deputy Diocesan Registrar of Lichfield and Mayor of Lichfield in 1850. Another sister, Amelia, married Chappel Wodehouse, only son of Chappel Wodehouse (1749-1833), who was Dean of Lichfield Cathedral when Frederick became a canon.
His nephew, Sir Herbert Stanley Oakeley (1830-1903), was Music Critic of the Manchester Guardian (1858-1868), Reid Professor of Music at Edinburgh University (1865-1891), Organist at Saint Paul’s Episcopal Church, Edinburgh, and Composer of Music to Queen Victoria in Scotland. He is included among the top 15 Victorian composers of hymn tunes by Ian Bradley (Abide with Me, London: SCM Press, 1997). His settings for hymns include Abends for John Keble’s ‘Sun of my soul, thou Saviour dear’ and Dominica for William Watkins Reid’s ‘Help us, O Lord, to learn’ (No 382).
Oakely Close … Lichfield’s only tribute to Frederick Oakeley (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Sadly, Frederick Oakeley has no monument in Lichfield apart from a misspelled street name at Oakley Close. Oakley Close was named after Frederick Oakeley but was misspelled in the original order by Lichfield District Council in 1977. Other street names in the area commemorate celebrated composers and musicians, including Purcell, Elgar, Handel, Verdi, Gilbert and Sullivan.
It is regrettable that in the cathedral city Oakeley knew as home, there is no public monument to one of the great and most popular English hymn-writers who has given us one of the best-loved Christmas carols. Perhaps correcting the spelling of Oakley Close might begin to rectify this.
Frederick Oakeley by an unknown artist, ca 1817 (Collection of Balliol College, Oxford)
This posting is based on features published in the ‘Lichfield Gazette’, ‘Church Review’ (Dublin and Glendalough) and the ‘Diocesan Magazine’ (Cashel, Ferns and Ossory)
Patrick Comerford
It is Christmas Eve and I am almost ‘all-carolled out’. Well not quite. But in recent weeks I have been singing with the choir at carol services in Saint Mary and Saint George Church, Stony Stratford, and All Saints’ Church, Calverton, I have enjoyed the carol singers outside Saint Ann’s Church in Dawson Street, Dublin, and I have written papers about the ‘Wexford Carol’ and ‘We three kings of Orient are,’ in Salvador Ryan’s new book Christmas and the Irish, launched in Dublin a few weeks ago.
There were carols last night in Holy Trinity Church, Old Wolverton, and more carols at the Parish Eucharist in Stony Stratford this morning.
Undoubtedly, one of the best-loved Christmas carols, and one we sang in Old Wolverton last night, is ‘O come, all ye faithful’, and it has strong links with Lichfield, and with Lichfield Cathedral and the Cathedral Close.
This carol is sometimes known by its Latin name, Adeste Fideles, which may explain why it is described as a mediaeval hymn. But the writer who made it popular in English was a priest in the Church of England, a canon of Lichfield Cathedral and an Oxford don for many years before becoming a Roman Catholic and a canon of Westminster Cathedral.
The earliest version of this popular carol dates from around 1743. Bishop Edward Darling and Donald Davison suggest the hymn – or at least the first four stanzas – and the tune may have been written by John Francis Wade (1711-1786), an English exile in Douay. Six manuscript copies of this version survive – a seventh was stolen from Clongowes Wood College, Co Kildare, in the last century.
As early as 1797, the Latin hymn was sung in London at the Chapel of the Portuguese Embassy, where Vincent Novello was the organist. He claimed it was written a century earlier by John Reading, the organist of Winchester Cathedral (1675-1681).
The carol has been translated into English and many other languages. But the most popular version begins with the opening words by Canon Frederick Oakeley: ‘O come, all ye faithful, joyfully triumphant,’ or, ‘O come, all ye faithful, joyful and triumphant.’
Winter evening lights at Lichfield Cathedral … Frederick Oakeley wrote ‘O come, all ye faithful’ while he was a canon of Lichfield Cathedral (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2023)
Frederick Oakeley (1802-1880) is best known for this carol. But, while he ended his days as a Roman Catholic priest, he spent his childhood in Lichfield, was a canon of Lichfield Cathedral in the 1830s and 1840s, and when he became a Roman Catholic priest he returned to Lichfield to say his first Mass.
Frederick Oakeley was born at his grandfather’s vicarage, the Abbey House in Shrewsbury, on 5 September 1802, a son of Sir Charles Oakeley (1751-1826). Sir Charles was born in Forton, Staffordshire, where his father, the Revd William Oakeley (1717-1803), was the Rector of Forton before moving to Shrewsbury.
Sir Charles Oakeley was a colonial administrator in India. He returned to England in 1789, was made a baronet the following year, and then returned to India as the Governor of Madras (1790-1794). When he returned to England once again, he moved into at the Abbey House, his father’s vicarage, and it was there the hymn-writer Frederick was born in 1802.
A childhood accident when he was three left Frederick disabled for many months, and for the rest of his life he was sickly and walked with a limp.
When Frederick was eight, the Oakeley family moved to Lichfield and into the Bishop’s Palace in the Cathedral Close, in 1810. Sir Charles was offered the Palace at a nominal rent on condition that he would restore the building, then in a sorry state. At the time, the Bishop of Lichfield was living at Eccleshall near Stafford. The Oakeley family moved into the Palace following the death in 1809 of the Lichfield poet, Anna Seward, who had continued to live there after the death of her father, Canon Thomas Seward, in 1790.
Each day, Sir Charles attended Morning Prayer in Lichfield Cathedral. His son later remembered him as pious, devout and humble, and the standard of music in the cathedral added to his pleasure in attending daily services. Frederick also recalled how as boy of eight the cathedral organist allowed him to play the organ to accompany the psalms at the daily services.
The Bishop’s Palace, Lichfield … now a school and once the childhood home of Frederick Oakeley (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Poor health often prevented Frederick from leaving home for school until the age of 14, when he had a late start at Lichfield Grammar School. A year after entering Lichfield Grammar School, Oakeley was sent from Lichfield in 1817 to Canon Charles Sumner for private tuition. Sumner was then the curate at Highclere, near Newbury, Hampshire. Highclere Castle was the home of the Earl of Carnarvon, and has become known in recent years as the location for Downton Abbey.
Frederick spent three years at Highclere, but returned for holidays with his parents in Lichfield, and was often homesick for Lichfield when he returned to Highclere.
He entered Christ Church, Oxford, in 1820, graduated BA in 1824, and won prizes in Latin, English and theology. But while he was still at Oxford, his father, Sir Charles Oakeley, died at the Palace in Lichfield in 1826. He was buried in Forton, and there is a monument to him by Sir Francis Chantrey in the North Transept of Lichfield Cathedral.
The monument to Sir Charles Oakeley in the North Transept of Lichfield Cathedral (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2023)
Frederick Oakeley was elected to a chaplain fellowship at Balliol College, Oxford. He was ordained deacon by the Bishop of London in the Chapel Royal in Whitehall in 1828 and ordained priest a week later in Saint Paul’s Cathedral, London, by his former tutor, Charles Sumner, then Bishop of Llandaff and Dean of Saint Paul’s. Oakeley remained a fellow of Balliol College until 1845, and was also tutor, Senior Dean, a lecturer, and one of the public examiners to Oxford University.
Oakeley was installed as the Prebendary of Dassett Parva in Lichfield Cathedral on 11 February 1832, on the nomination of Bishop Henry Ryder, whose kneeling statue by Sir Francis Legatt Chantrey is in the north transept in Lichfield Cathedral. As a canon, Oakeley dutifully returned to Lichfield Cathedral each year to preach on the Sixth Sunday after Epiphany and he remained a canon of Lichfield until 1845.
While Oakeley was a fellow of Balliol College, he helped secure the election to a fellowship of his lifelong friend and former pupil Archibald Campbell Tait, later Archbishop of Canterbury. At Balliol, he also became a close friend of William George Ward, and they both joined the Tractarian party.
The Bishop of London, Charles Blomfield, appointed Oakeley Whitehall Preacher in 1837, but he remained a fellow of Balliol. In the preface to his first volume of Whitehall Sermons (1837) he declared himself a member of the Oxford Movement. In 1839, he became the incumbent of the Margaret Chapel, the predecessor of All Saints’ Church, Margaret Street, London. In his six years there, Oakeley introduced High Church liturgical practices, and his friends there included the future Prime Minister, William Gladstone, and Sir Alexander Beresford-Hope, who supervised William Butterfield’s building of All Saints’ Church (1850-1859).
Canon Frederick Oakeley’s stall in Lichfield Cathedral as Prebendary of Dassett Parva (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Oakeley translated ‘O Come All Ye Faithful’ for his congregation in London in 1840, while he was still a canon of Lichfield Cathedral. His original translation began: ‘Ye faithful, approach ye.’ But in 1845 he rewrote the opening words: ‘O come, all ye faithful, Joyfully triumphant.’ Its inclusion in Francis H Murray’s Hymnal in 1852 gave Oakley a permanent place in the history of hymnology and the traditions of Christmas.
Oakeley stood by his Tractarian friend, Charles Lloyd, Regius Professor of Divinity in Oxford, when he was condemned in 1845. In two pamphlets published in London and Oxford, Oakeley defended Tract XC and asserted that he held, ‘as distinct from teaching, all Roman doctrine.’ He was brought before the Court of Arches by Bishop Blomfield, and in July 1845 he was suspended until he ‘retracted his errors.’
He resigned as a canon of Lichfield Cathedral and from all his other appointments in the Church of England on 28 October 1845, and moved into Cardinal John Henry Newman’s community at Littlemore in Oxford. The following day, he was received into the Roman Catholic Church, and on 31 October he was confirmed in Birmingham by Cardinal Nicholas Wiseman.
He was ordained a Roman Catholic priest by Cardinal Wiseman in 1847 and he returned to Lichfield to celebrate his first Mass in Holy Cross Church, Upper John Street, with the 86-year-old scholarly Dr John Kirk, who had been Parish Priest of Lichfield when Oakeley was still a child in the Cathedral Close.
Oakeley joined the staff of Saint George’s, Southwark, took charge of Saint John’s, Islington, and was made a canon of Westminster Cathedral. For many years, he worked among the poor in his diocese, and from the 1860s on he was a regular contributor to the Dublin Review, and eventually became its joint editor. He died in Islington on 29 January 1880, and was buried in Saint Mary’s Roman Catholic Cemetery, Kensal Green.
Frederick Oakeley’s sister Henrietta, wife of John Mott (1787-1869), Mayor of Lichfield in 1850
Frederick Oakeley was short-sighted, small of stature and lame, and it is said he exercised a wide influence through his personality, his writings, and the charm of his conversation. Richard Church, Dean of Saint Paul’s Cathedral, London (1870-1891), and an early historian of the Oxford Movement, said Oakeley ‘was, perhaps, the first to realise the capacities of the Anglican ritual for impressive devotional use.’
Oakeley’s widowed mother, Helena, continued living in the Bishop’s Palace in Lichfield until her death in 1838. His brother, Sir Herbert Oakeley (1791-1845), succeeded to the family title and was Archdeacon of Colchester. When the Bishopric of Gibraltar was founded in 1842, it was offered to Archdeacon Oakeley, but he declined it.
Their sister, Henrietta, married John Mott (1787–1869) of No 20 The Close, Lichfield, who was Deputy Diocesan Registrar of Lichfield and Mayor of Lichfield in 1850. Another sister, Amelia, married Chappel Wodehouse, only son of Chappel Wodehouse (1749-1833), who was Dean of Lichfield Cathedral when Frederick became a canon.
His nephew, Sir Herbert Stanley Oakeley (1830-1903), was Music Critic of the Manchester Guardian (1858-1868), Reid Professor of Music at Edinburgh University (1865-1891), Organist at Saint Paul’s Episcopal Church, Edinburgh, and Composer of Music to Queen Victoria in Scotland. He is included among the top 15 Victorian composers of hymn tunes by Ian Bradley (Abide with Me, London: SCM Press, 1997). His settings for hymns include Abends for John Keble’s ‘Sun of my soul, thou Saviour dear’ and Dominica for William Watkins Reid’s ‘Help us, O Lord, to learn’ (No 382).
Oakely Close … Lichfield’s only tribute to Frederick Oakeley (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Sadly, Frederick Oakeley has no monument in Lichfield apart from a misspelled street name at Oakley Close. Oakley Close was named after Frederick Oakeley but was misspelled in the original order by Lichfield District Council in 1977. Other street names in the area commemorate celebrated composers and musicians, including Purcell, Elgar, Handel, Verdi, Gilbert and Sullivan.
It is regrettable that in the cathedral city Oakeley knew as home, there is no public monument to one of the great and most popular English hymn-writers who has given us one of the best-loved Christmas carols. Perhaps correcting the spelling of Oakley Close might begin to rectify this.
Frederick Oakeley by an unknown artist, ca 1817 (Collection of Balliol College, Oxford)
This posting is based on features published in the ‘Lichfield Gazette’, ‘Church Review’ (Dublin and Glendalough) and the ‘Diocesan Magazine’ (Cashel, Ferns and Ossory)
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