Daily prayer in Advent 2025: 19, Thursday 18 December 2025

‘When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him’ (Matthew 1: 24) … a mosaic in the Cathedral of Christ the King, Mullingar, Co Westmeath (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Patrick Comerford

We are in the final days of the Season of Advent, and Christmas Day is just a week away. This week began with the Third Sunday of Advent (Advent III, 14 December 2025), also known as Gaudete Sunday.

We are catching a train to London later this morning for some pre-Christmas family meetings and perhaps lunch together. But, 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.

The betrothal of Saint Joseph and the Virgin Mary … a panel in the Saint Joseph Window by the Harry Clarke studios in the Church of Saint Peter and Saint Paul, Kilmallock, Co Limerick (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Matthew 1: 18-24 (NRSVA):

18 Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been engaged to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit. 19 Her husband Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to dismiss her quietly. 20 But just when he had resolved to do this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, ‘Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. 21 She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.’ 22 All this took place to fulfil what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet:

23 ‘Look, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son,
and they shall name him Emmanuel’,

which means, ‘God is with us.’ 24 When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him; he took her as his wife.

Saint Joseph with the Christ Child … a statue at Saint Joseph’s Cathedral, Kuching (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)

Today’s Reflections:

In the Gospel reading at the Eucharist today (Matthew 1: 18-24), we continue in 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.

The Advent carol O come, O come, Emmanuel is a popular reworking of the seven ‘O Antiphons’.

O Sapientia, or O Wisdom, is the first of these days, and was marked yesterday (17 December). It is followed today (18 December) by O Adonai, O Root of Jesse tomorrow (19 December), and then O Key of David, O Dayspring, O King of the Nations, and, finally on 23 December, O Emmanuel.

In the old Sarum rite, these were sung one day earlier, beginning on 16 December, requiring another ascription for 23 December, this being O Virgin of Virgins. Since this was clearly apposite to the Blessed Virgin Mary, and not a ‘title’ of God, it was not adopted much beyond Sarum and, with the revision of the Calendar, Anglicans have adopted the more widely-used formulæ and dating.

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 (Matthew 1: 18-24), continues the Nativity narrative in the first Gospel. This is a reading about choices, about obedience to God’s plans, and about the fulfilment of God’s plans for all nations.

So often we talk about the Virgin Mary and her obedience, about Mary’s ‘Yes’ to the birth of Christ But it means Joseph is often pushed to the side of the stage. Joseph says ‘Yes’ too, but he says it silently; he has no scripted lines; he has no dramatic part or role; he is mute; but he is obedient.

And, like the earlier Joseph, his Biblical namesake, he too is dreamer of dreams and a doer of deeds.

Saint Matthew’s nativity story lacks the romantic imagery of Saint Luke’s account, whose heady mixture of heavenly angels with earthy shepherds is missing. Instead, the hope of all the earth takes shape under the sign of arrangements being made for a betrothal that is apparently violated. The gifts of God’s grace and the promise of God’s reign are hidden, are to be searched for and to be found in the midst of what appears be a tawdry story.

The Virgin Mary may have been a mere teenager at the time, just 14 or 15. And, like so many other teenage brides, she turns up for her wedding – pregnant! Joseph knows he could not possibly be the father. He decides to do the right thing and take off, quietly dropping out of the arrangement.

If Joseph goes ahead, then this child is going to be known in his family, among his neighbours, perhaps by everyone who needs to know, as illegitimate for the rest of his life. His critics indelicately remind Jesus of this in Saint John’s Gospel: ‘You are indeed doing what your father does.’ They said to him, ‘We are not illegitimate children; we have one father, God himself’ (John 8: 41). The original Greek is more direct, crude and blunt: they taunt him that they were not conceived through illicit intercourse.

These fears and sneers, those social judgments and wagging fingers, must have been confronting Joseph like a nightmare. Yet the angel of Joseph’s dream makes a startling suggestion. He tells him to marry Mary, and then he is to name the child. To take on naming the child requires becoming his father. And this is suggested not as a nice thing to do, a courteous thing to do, a gallant or gentlemanly sort of thing to do. Joseph is told why: ‘You are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins’ (verse 21).

It is not a promise of immediate reward. Joseph is not promised that if he does this he is going to earn points towards the forgiveness of his own sins; that God will see him as a nice guy; that unexpected prosperity is on the horizon; or even that if he lives long enough, this child may grow up, be apprenticed to him, take over the family business, and act as a future pension plan.

If Joseph is not the father of the Child Jesus, he must have wondered what the angel meant by ‘his people’ and ‘their sins.’ But the forgiveness here is spoken of in apocalyptic terms. It is the declaration of a new future. To be forgiven is to receive a future. Forgiveness breaks the simple link between cause and effect, action and reaction, failure and disaster, rebellion and recrimination.

Advent is a time of repentance, forgiveness and expectation. It is a time of preparation, anticipation and hope. It is a time for dreaming dreams, and putting behind us all our nightmares.

Joseph dreams something wonderful. God would enter the world; God would be born to his new, young wife, Mary. But to believe this, Joseph had to trust not only his dream, but to trust Mary, to trust the future child, to trust God.

Do you love the people you trust and trust the people you love?

To trust the Virgin Mary, Joseph must have truly loved her. But trust in this predicament must have gone beyond trust. Joseph must have truly glimpsed what it is to trust God, to have hope in God, to love God, to have faith in God.

Joseph dreams a dream not of his own salvation, but of the salvation of the world.

Sometimes, like Joseph, we are supposed to trust God and then get out of the way. Do you trust that God is working through the people you love? Do you trust that God is working through people you find it difficult not to love but merely to like … working through God’s people for their salvation?

Too often we forget about poor Joseph. We tend to focus on the story of the Virgin Mary, but the Annunciation occurs not just to Mary, but to Joseph too. And they both say ‘Yes.’

And Joseph says a second ‘Yes’ too later when he agrees to the angel’s prompting to flee with Mary and the Christ Child to Egypt.

Joseph listens, God sends a messenger again, Joseph dreams again, and he remains true to God, he answers God’s call.

Joseph has no speaking part; he just has a walk-on part in this drama. But his actions, his obedience to God’s call, speak louder than words. Yes, God appears over and over again, to men, women, to ‘all sorts and conditions of people.’

Joseph’s ‘Yes’ is not only a ‘Yes’ to the Christ Child but a ‘Yes’ to all children who seem unwanted and who are easily pushed to one side. Joseph’s ‘Yes’ is not only a ‘Yes’ to the Christ Child but a ‘Yes’ to the promises the Coming Christ brings to all who are marginalised and in danger today, for because of his ‘Yes’ God is among us.

Advent is an opportunity to echo that ‘Yes’, time and time again.

Mary’s ‘husband Joseph [was] a righteous man’ (Matthew 1: 8-19) … Joseph and the Christ Child depicted at Saint Joseph’s Cottage in Thame, Oxfordshire (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)

Today’s Prayers (Thursday 18 December 2025):

The theme this week (14 to 20 December 2025) in Pray with the World Church, the prayer diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), is ‘The Floating Church’ (pp 10-11). This theme was introduced on Sunday with a Programme Update by Sister Veronica of the Community of the Sisters of the Church in Melanesia.

The USPG Prayer Diary today (Thursday 18 December 2025) invites us to pray:

We pray for the Sisters as they travel across the islands by boat, canoe, and on foot. May their journeys be safe, and may their pastoral care, Scripture teaching, and witness bring encouragement to isolated communities.

The Collect:

O Lord Jesus Christ,
who at your first coming sent your messenger
to prepare your way before you:
grant that the ministers and stewards of your mysteries
may likewise so prepare and make ready your way
by turning the hearts of the disobedient to the wisdom of the just,
that at your second coming to judge the world
we may be found an acceptable people in your sight;
for you are alive and reign with the Father
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.

The Post-Communion Prayer:

We give you thanks, O Lord, for these heavenly gifts;
kindle in us the fire of your Spirit
that when your Christ comes again
we may shine as lights before his face;
who is alive and reigns now and for ever.

Additional Collect:

God for whom we watch and wait,
you sent John the Baptist to prepare the way of your Son:
give us courage to speak the truth,
to hunger for justice,
and to suffer for the cause of right,
with Jesus Christ our Lord.

Yesterday’s Reflections

Continued Tomorrow

Saint Joseph depicted in a stained-glass window in Saint Joseph’s Cathedral, Kuching (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

Saint Anne’s, Soho, the London church that rose from the ashes after the Blitz and lengthy closure

Saint Anne’s Church, Soho, and Saint Anne’s Gardens, a public park that opens onto the Shaftesbury Avenue end of Wardour Street, London (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)

Patrick Comerford

In my recent self-guided ‘church crawling’ tour of half a dozen or so churches and chapels in Bloomsbury, Fitzrovia, Soho and Mayfair, one of the churches I visited was Saint Anne’s Church in Soho, including the remaining tower of the original church facing onto Wardour Street and the modern church facing onto Dean Street.

Saint Anne’s was known in the past for its musical traditions and its literary associations with writers and poets, including Dorothy L Sayers, Rose Macaulay, Iris Murdoch, TS Eliot and John Betjeman. The church is also associated with the homeless charity Centrepoint and was known in the past for its radical and innovative priests, exemplified in the life and ministry of the late Kenneth Leech.

Although the church was destroyed during the Blitz in 1940, the church community survived through the post-war decades and the church was rebuilt in the 1990s. Parts of the churchyard around the west end with the surviving tower are Saint Anne’s Gardens, a public park that opens onto the Shaftesbury Avenue end of Wardour Street.

The first certain reference to the church is in the minutes of a meeting of the vestry of Saint Martin in the Fields, in August 1676. A few months earlier, in April, the foundation stone had been laid of a new church in the parish, which was in 1685 to become the church of the parish of Saint James, Westminster.

No grant of the site by the Crown to an individual or corporate body seems to be recorded and its appropriation to church use seems to have been effected simply by an Act of Parliament in 1678 that authorised the establishment of the parish and stated the boundaries of the church and churchyard site. Later, the parish would give rise to two new churches, dedicated to Saint Thomas and Saint Peter, but they became part of the same parish again in 1945.

Saint Anne’s Church, Soho, was consecrated by Bishop Henry Compton of London in 1686 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)

Saint Anne’s Church in Soho was consecrated on 21 March 1686, the Sunday before Lady Day, by Henry Compton, Bishop of London, as the parish church of the parish of Saint Anne Within the Liberty of Westminster, created from part of the parish of Saint Martin in the Fields. The ceremony was interrupted by dinner and was followed by the consecration of an additional cemetery for the parish of Saint Martin’s on the site of a former Greek church.

The parish was dedicated to Saint Anne because Compton had been tutor to Princess Anne, who later became Queen Anne. Construction began in 1677 on a plot that was then in the countryside and known as Soho Fields.

It seems the original church was designed by William Talman, an architect who worked under Sir Christopher Wren. Saint Anne’s was a basilica, having a nave of five bays terminated by an eastern apse, serving as a chancel, and flanked by north and south aisles containing galleries that were linked by a gallery across the west end of the nave.

The interior was 64 ft wide, the nave was 31 ft clear, and 78 ft long, excluding the chancel apse which added a further 18 ft. The chancel apse was flanked by vestibules with staircases to the galleries, that were also reached by open staircases at the west end of each aisle.

A square tower projected centrally from the west front, but the church remained without a spire for 32 years. The church tower was only completed in 1718, with the addition of a timber spire.

Saint Anne’s House at 57 Dean Street was first occupied ca 1705 by the parish watch-house, and later also by the parish fire-engine-house and vestry-room.

Inside the present modern chapel at Saint Anne’s Church in Soho (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)

In its early years, the church had a fashionable congregation, including the Prince of Wales, later George II, and the actress Hester Davenport, who was buried in the churchyard in 1717.

The tower had become unstable by 1800 and the new tower was completed by 1801, its bell chamber’s Portland stonework by March 1803, and its copper cupola by May 1803. The tower’s ground floor room of the tower became the parish vestry room, and was later used as a robing room for the clergy.

Canon Nugent Wade (1809-1893), who was the Rector of Saint Anne’s in 1845-1891, was born in Dublin and educated at Trinity College Dublin and at Oxford, and was ordained deacon (1832) and priest (1833) in Saint Fethlimidh’s Cathedral, Kilmore, Co Cavan. Before coming to Soho, Wade was the Anglican chaplain in Elsinore.

AW Blomfield rearranged the interior for Wade in 1866. Although Wade faced opposition in Saint Anne’s for his ‘Puseyite’ sympathies, he made Saint Anne’s a gathering place for the new generation of Anglo-Catholics in central London. He founded the Saint Barnabas House of Charity in Soho, which ministered to prostitutes, and Saint Mary’s Crown Street, an Anglo-Catholic centre in a slum district within the parish of Soho.

The Revd Basil Graham Bourchier (1881-1934) was the Rector of Saint Anne’s in 1930-1933. During World War I, while he was a chaplain with the Red Cross in Belgium, he was arrested by the Germans as a spy. But his death sentence was commuted, he escaped, and became an army chaplain.

Bourchier was a flamboyant preacher and was satirised as the Revd Cyril Boom Bagshaw in ASM Hutchinson’s If winter comes (1921) and as a ‘totally preposterous parson in Evelyn Waugh’s A little learning (1964). He resigned before being enfolded in a major scandal about his sexuality and his inappropriate relationships with choirboys. Little Dean Street in Soho was renamed Bourchier Street in 1937.

The complex at Saint Anne’s has survived the Blitz and proposals for demolition (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)

The Revd Gilbert Shuldham Shaw (1886-1967), who was the Vicar of Saint Anne’s from 1940, was another Dublin-born priest at Saint Anne’s. He had been baptised by his mother’s uncle, William Conyngham Plunket, Archbishop of Dublin. With his successor Patrick McLaughlin, he is thought to be part of the inspiration for Rose Macaulay’s character of Father Hugh Chantry-Pigg in The Towers of Trebizond (1956).

During World War II, the whole church, apart from the tower, was burned out in the Blitz on the night of 24 September 1940, and the tower was left derelict. Saint Thomas’s, Regent Street, and the adjoining Saint Anne’s House in the Upper Room, later known as the ‘Allen Room’, were used for worship from then on, although Saint Thomas’s has since been demolished.

After the war, Jacques Groag proposed in 1945 keeping the ruins as a war memorial, but by 1949 it was assumed that the church would not be rebuilt. The remains of the east wall were the only significant parts left standing, and they were demolished in 1953. The site was deconsecrated and prepared for sale, and the parish was amalgamated with those of Saint Thomas’s Church, Regent Street, and Saint Peter’s Church, Great Windmill Street, creating the Parish of Saint Anne with Saint Thomas and Saint Peter, centred on Saint Thomas’s.

Dorothy L Sayers was a longtime churchwarden of the parish … her ashes were buried at the base of the tower in 1957 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)

Despite having no building, from 1941 to 1958, the Saint Anne Society under Patrick McLaughlin encouraged links with the literary world, and the members included Father Gilbert Shaw, JC Winnington-Ingram, Charles Williams, Agatha Christie, TS Eliot, Father Max Petitpierre, Dom Gregory Dix, Arnold Bennett, CS Lewis, Rose Macaulay and Dorothy L Sayers. Others who contributed from time to time included John Betjeman, Iris Murdoch, Lord David Cecil, Rebecca West and Christopher Dawson.

Even when there was no church building, the church community remained active in those post-war years, and the tower was used as a chapel for a time in the 1950s. The novelist Dorothy L Sayers was a longtime churchwarden of the parish and member of the Saint Anne’s Society. Her ashes were buried in the base of the tower in 1957.

Father Patrick McLaughlin (1909-1988) was the Rector Saint Anne’s in 1953-1962. He introduced the ‘basilican mode’, in which the priest faces the congregation instead of facing the altar with his back to the congregation. This liturgical innovation was widely adopted in the Church of England some 20 years later. Patrick McLaughlin became a Roman Catholic in 1962.

Saint Anne’s has a long history of being socially inclusive and engaged, exemplified in the life and ministry of Kenneth Leech (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)

Saint Anne’s has a long history of being socially inclusive and engaged with its diverse and ever-changing community. The Revd Dr Kenneth Leech (1939-2015), who was a curate at Saint Anne’s in 1967-1971, was a priest in the Anglo-Catholic tradition and a socialist, and a leading advocate of contextual theology.

At the heart of his faith was what he called ‘subversive orthodoxy’: the indissoluble union of contemplative spirituality, sacramental worship, orthodox doctrine and social action. He argued that this conjunction of faith and the quest for justice, which points to the coming of the Kingdom of God on earth, is the essential mark of the Christian life and underlies scripture, the teachings of the Church Fathers and the Christian mystical tradition.

He founded the homeless charity Centrepoint in the basement of Saint Anne’s House in December 1969, and it was based at the church until 2023.

The entrance to Saint Anne’s on Dean Street (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)

After many years as a bomb site and car park, the present building was created in 1991 thanks to the tenacity of members of local community. By selling part of the site to build social housing and provide commercial properties, funds were raised to create the community hall and the simple but attractive chapel that extends into the hall on Sundays.

Princess Anne laid the foundation stone of the new complex on 12 March 1990, and it was opened and rededicated on Saint Anne’s Day, 26 July 1991. The new church complex is not an actual reconstruction of the old church and can be varied from a large to a small space. It is set within a community centre and is a community focus.

The tower, which had been partly restored in 1979 by the Soho Society, was fully restored when the whole church was rebuilt in 1990-1991 and is now a Grade II* listed building.

The prize-winning entrance was designed by Lina Viluma and Sherief al Rifa’i and was dedicated in 1996 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)

To celebrate the 25th anniversary of the rebuilding of the church, a redesigned entrance on Dean Street, featuring the name of Saint Anne’s in neon lights, was dedicated by the Bishop of London in December 2016 and it ensures the church remains a visible presence in the community.

The new entrance was designed by two UAL London students, Lina Viluma and Sherief al Rifa’i. Their redesign of the entrance won the President’s Award for alterations to a church building in the 2017 Church Architecture Awards. The judges said their design made ‘a dynamic and inviting entrance to the church’.

Saint Anne’s is a thriving church community today and a venue for many local community and charitable events. It also houses the Soho Society, and the anti-homophobic bullying charity Diversity Role Models.

Saint Anne’s also has had its own community coffee shop, Sacred Grounds, since January 2024, on the very site where Centrepoint was founded in 1969.

A double espresso in Sacred Grounds, where Centrepoint was founded in 1969 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)

Saint Anne’s was once famous for its high musical standards. The church received an organ in 1699 from the Dowager-Queen’s Chapel in Saint James’s Palace. The first organist Dr William Croft wrote the tune ‘Saint Anne’ in 1708, a tune still used for the hymn ‘O God Our Help in Ages Past’.

During Wade’s half century at Saint Anne’s, the choir under Sir Joseph Barnby revived the interest in Bach in England, starting with the Christmas Oratorio and Crescendo to the Mathew Passion. Barnby, who was the organist in 1871-1888, introduced the first performance in Britain of Bach’s ‘Saint John Passion’. The first religious service with music broadcast by radio came from Saint Anne’s in the 1920s.

The churchyard, Saint Anne’s Gardens, was leased to Westminster City Council in 1894, having been closed to burials 40 years earlier. It is believed that up to 60,000 bodies are still buried there, and this explains why the ground is so high above the entrance on Wardour Street.

The curious monument to King Theodore of Corsica, who reigned for eight months in 1766 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)

One of the few surviving monuments in the churchyard is a curious tablet to King Theodore of Corsica, who reigned briefly from March to November in 1766. It includes a crown in an oval panel above an inscription composed by Horace Walpole. The biography of the soi-disanting was published by Percy Fitzgerald in 1890.

King Theodore’s wife Catalina Sarsfield was the daughter of David Sarsfield of Kilmallock, Co Limerick, a younger brother of Dominick Sarsfield, 4th Viscount Sarsfield, and his French-born wife, Marie d’Athboy. She is sometimes mistakenly said to have been the daughter of Patrick Sarsfield, 1st Earl of Lucan, and Lady Honora Burke, but she was part of a different branch of the Sarsfield family.

Below this monument is a stone commemorating the burial in the churchyard of William Hazlitt (1830).

The Revd Simon Buckley has been the Rector of Saint Anne’s, Soho, since 2013, and is a former assistant priest. Previously, he was a professional puppeteer, and worked with the Muppets and the original Spitting Image. The Revd Martha Pennel has been the curate of Saint Anne’s since 2023

• The main service in Saint Anne’s is the Sunday Eucharist at 11am, celebrated with ‘a relaxed dignity’. The regular weekday services include Holy Communion on Tuesday at 1:05 pm and Morning Prayer on Tuesdays, Wednesday and Thursday at 8:30 am and Evening Prayer at 4:30 pm on Wednesdays. Other services range from Christmas Carol Services and the liturgies of Holy Week, to Prayers at Pride and Soho Parish Sundays.

‘Lord Have Mercy’ … time for prayer in Saint Anne’s (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)

Daily prayer in Advent 2024: 18, Wednesday 18 December 2024

‘When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him’ (Matthew 1: 24) … a mosaic in the Cathedral of Christ the King, Mullingar, Co Westmeath (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Patrick Comerford

We are in the final days of the Season of Advent, and Christmas Day is just a week away. The week began with the Third Sunday of Advent (Advent III, 15 December 2024), also known as Gaudete Sunday.

I am back in Stony Stratford this morning after my pre-Christmas family visit to Dublin, having caught a flight back to Birmingham late yesterday. 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.

The betrothal of Saint Joseph and the Virgin Mary … a panel in the Saint Joseph Window by the Harry Clarke studios in the Church of Saint Peter and Saint Paul, Kilmallock, Co Limerick (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Matthew 1: 18-24 (NRSVA):

18 Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been engaged to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit. 19 Her husband Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to dismiss her quietly. 20 But just when he had resolved to do this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, ‘Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. 21 She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.’ 22 All this took place to fulfil what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet:

23 ‘Look, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son,
and they shall name him Emmanuel’,

which means, ‘God is with us.’ 24 When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him; he took her as his wife.

The icon of the Nativity in the new iconostasis in the Greek Orthodox Church in Stony Stratford … Joseph is in the bottom right corner (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)

Today’s Reflection:

In the Gospel reading at the Eucharist today (Matthew 1: 18-24), we continue in 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.

The Advent carol O come, O come, Emmanuel (New English Hymnal, No 11; Irish Church Hymnal, No 135) is a popular reworking of the seven ‘O Antiphons’.

O Sapientia, or O Wisdom, is the first of these days, and was marked yesterday (17 December). It is followed today (18 December) by O Adonai, O Root of Jesse tomorrow (19 December), and then O Key of David, O Dayspring, O King of the Nations, and, finally on 23 December, O Emmanuel.

In the old Sarum rite, these were sung one day earlier, beginning on 16 December, requiring another ascription for 23 December, this being O Virgin of Virgins. Since this was clearly apposite to the Blessed Virgin Mary, and not a ‘title’ of God, it was not adopted much beyond Sarum and, with the revision of the Calendar, Anglicans have adopted the more widely-used formulæ and dating.

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 (Matthew 1: 18-24), continues the Nativity narrative in the first Gospel. This is a reading about choices, about obedience to God’s plans, and about the fulfilment of God’s plans for all nations.

So often we talk about the Virgin Mary and her obedience, about Mary’s ‘Yes’ to the birth of Christ But it means Joseph is often pushed to the side of the stage. Joseph says ‘Yes’ too, but he says it silently; he has no scripted lines; he has no dramatic part or role; he is mute; but he is obedient.

And, like the earlier Joseph, his Biblical namesake, he too is dreamer of dreams and a doer of deeds.

Saint Matthew’s nativity story lacks the romantic imagery of Saint Luke’s account, whose heady mixture of heavenly angels with earthy shepherds is missing here. Instead, the hope of all the earth takes shape under the sign of arrangements being made for a betrothal that is apparently violated. The gifts of God’s grace and the promise of God’s reign are hidden, are to be searched for and to be found in the midst of what appears be a tawdry story.

The Virgin Mary may have been a mere teenager at the time, just 14 or 15. And, like so many other teenage brides, she turns up for her wedding – pregnant! Joseph knows he could not possibly be the father. He decides to do the right thing and take off, quietly dropping out of the arrangement.

If Joseph goes ahead, then this child is going to be known in his family, among his neighbours, perhaps by everyone who needs to know, as illegitimate for the rest of his life. His critics indelicately remind him of this in Saint John’s Gospel: ‘You are indeed doing what your father does.’ They said to him, ‘We are not illegitimate children; we have one father, God himself’ (John 8: 41). The original Greek is more direct, crude and blunt: they taunt him that they were not conceived through illicit intercourse.

These fears and sneers, those social judgments and wagging fingers, must have been confronting Joseph like a nightmare. Yet the angel of Joseph’s dream makes a startling suggestion. He tells him to marry Mary, and then he is to name the child. To take on naming the child means becoming his father. And this is suggested not as a nice thing to do, a courteous thing to do, a gallant or gentlemanly sort of thing to do. Joseph is told why: ‘You are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins’ (verse 21).

It is not a promise of immediate reward. Joseph is not promised that if he does this he is going to earn points towards the forgiveness of his own sins; that God will see him as a nice guy; or even that if he lives long enough, this child may grow up, be apprenticed to him, take over the family business, and act as a future pension plan.

If Joseph is not the father of the Child Jesus, he must have wondered what the angel meant by ‘his people’ and ‘their sins.’ But the forgiveness here is spoken of in apocalyptic terms. It is the declaration of a new future. To be forgiven is to receive a future. Forgiveness breaks the simple link between cause and effect, action and reaction, failure and disaster, rebellion and recrimination.

Advent is a time of repentance, forgiveness and expectation. It is a time of preparation, anticipation and hope. It is a time for dreaming dreams, and putting behind us all our nightmares.

Joseph dreams something wonderful. God would enter the world; God would be born to his new, young wife, Mary. But to believe this, Joseph had to trust not only his dream, but to trust Mary, to trust the future child, to trust God.

Do you love the people you trust and trust the people you love?

To trust the Virgin Mary, Joseph must have truly loved her. But trust in this predicament must have gone beyond trust. Joseph must have truly glimpsed what it is to trust God, to have hope in God, to love God, to have faith in God.

Joseph dreams a dream not of his own salvation, but of the salvation of the world.

Sometimes, like Joseph, we are supposed to trust God and then get out of the way. Do you trust that God is working through the people you love? Do you trust that God is working through people you find it difficult not to love but merely to like … working through God’s people for their salvation?

Too often we forget about poor Joseph. Every year, we tend to focus on the story of the Virgin Mary. But this year, Year A, the Lectionary asks us to focus on Saint Joseph. The annunciation occurs not just to Mary, but to Joseph too. And they both say ‘Yes.’

And Joseph says a second ‘Yes’ too later in this Gospel, when he agrees to the angel’s prompting to flee with Mary and the Christ Child to Egypt.

Joseph listens, God sends a messenger again, Joseph dreams again, and he remains true to God, he answers God’s call.

Joseph has no speaking part; he just has a walk-on part in this drama. But his actions, his obedience to God’s call, speak louder than words. Yes, God appears over and over again, to men, women, to ‘all sorts and conditions of people.’

Joseph’s ‘Yes’ is not only a ‘Yes’ to the Christ Child but a ‘Yes’ to all children who seem unwanted and who are easily pushed to one side. Joseph’s ‘Yes’ is not only a ‘Yes’ to the Christ Child but a ‘Yes’ to the promises the Coming Christ brings to all who are marginalised and in danger today, for because of his ‘Yes’ God is among us.

Advent is an opportunity to echo that yes.

Mary’s ‘husband Joseph [was] a righteous man’ (Matthew 1: 8-19) … the betrothal of Joseph and Mary, depicted in a window by Harry Clarke in Athlone (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Today’s Prayers (TWednesday 18 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 ‘Joy – Advent’. This theme was introduced on Sunday with Reflections by the Revd Sonja Hunter, Priest at All Saints’ Anglican Church in Samoa, Diocese of Polynesia.

The USPG Prayer Diary today (Wednesday 18 December 2024) invites us to pray:

Lord, we pray for The Revd Sonja and the wider ministry team at All Saints, Samoa. Thank you for their love and service of you. Give them rest over this busy period.

The Collect:

O Lord Jesus Christ,
who at your first coming sent your messenger
to prepare your way before you:
grant that the ministers and stewards of your mysteries
may likewise so prepare and make ready your way
by turning the hearts of the disobedient to the wisdom of the just,
that at your second coming to judge the world
we may be found an acceptable people in your sight;
for you are alive and reign with the Father
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.

The Post-Communion Prayer:

We give you thanks, O Lord, for these heavenly gifts;
kindle in us the fire of your Spirit
that when your Christ comes again
we may shine as lights before his face;
who is alive and reigns now and for ever.

Additional Collect:

God for whom we watch and wait,
you sent John the Baptist to prepare the way of your Son:
give us courage to speak the truth,
to hunger for justice,
and to suffer for the cause of right,
with Jesus Christ our Lord.

Yesterday’s Reflection

Continued Tomorrow

Saint Joseph and the Christ Child … a mosaic in the Cathedral of Christ the King, Mullingar, Co Westmeath (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

The Bishop of Norwich who forgot to pass the Port and lost his right thumb

Francis Chantrey’s statue of Bishop Henry Bathurst in the north transept in Norwich Cathedral (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)

Patrick Comerford

Norwich Cathedral, like every English cathedral, has many monuments to former bishops of the diocese, including the grave of Herbert de Losinga, first Bishop of Norwich, who started building Norwich Cathedral in 1096 and an effigy of Bishop John Thomas Pelham, the Bishop of Norwich who censured the eccentric ‘Father Ignatius’ of Norwich.

Close to Bishop Pelham’s effigy is a marble statue by the sculptor Sir Francis Chantrey of Bishop Henry Bathurst (1744-1837), although Bathurst is buried not in the cathedral but in Great Malvern, beside his Irish-born wife, Grace (Coote), who was born in Kilmallock, Co Limerick.

Unusually, Chantrey supervised the installation of the statue himself, in November 1841, north of the high altar in the bay of the reliquary arch. By 1914, it had been moved to the south transept, and by 1972 it had been moved to its present place cramped corner in the north-west corner of north transept.

Chantrey’s statue shows a bewigged Bathurst sitting in an elegant chair, his hands clasped in his lap – his right thumb is broken – wearing episcopal robes and looking slightly down.

Before the sculpture was installed in Norwich Cathedral, it was exhibited at the Royal Academy in May 1841. Chantrey’s work seems to be based on an earlier portrait of Bathurst, probably by Sir Martin Archer Shee in 1818.

Chantrey shows the bishop seated rather than in his more usual pose for bishops and women showing them kneeling in prayer. This would not have done for Bathurst, however. He was ‘a shockingly bad administrator, greatly addicted to whist, and to long sojourns at Bath and Malvern.’ The result was that during his long tenure at Norwich some wit dubbed it ‘the Dead See.’

Henry Bathurst was born in Brackley, Northamptonshire, the seventh son of Sir Benjamin Bathurst, a slave trader, and a younger brother of Allen Bathurst, 1st Earl Bathurst. He was educated at Winchester College and New College, Oxford. He was the Rector of Witchingham, Norfolk, a canon of Christ Church, Oxford, and a prebendary of Durham before becoming Bishop of Norwich in 1805, succeeding Charles Manners-Sutton who had become Archbishop of Canterbury.

For many years, Bathurst was considered to be the only ‘liberal; bishop in the House of Lords, and he supported Catholic Emancipation. He was privately critical of the loss of life incurred by the British in fighting Napoleon and in 1815 he and his son, Archdeacon Henry Bathurst of Norwich, attacked the restoration of the Bourbon dynasty in France.

Bathurst admired Napoleon as an enlightened ruler and regretted his exile. When he was over 90 years of age, he went to the House of Lords in 1835 to vote in support of Lord Melbourne’s government.

Bathurst married Grace Coote, who was born in Kilmallock, Co Limerick. She was a daughter of the Very Revd Charles Coote, Dean of Kilfenora Cathedral, Co Clare, and a niece of the Irish politician and general, Sir Eyre Coote.

Bathurst died in London, on 5 April 1837, and was buried with his wife at Great Malvern.

Three types of Port to taste in Porto (Photograph; Patrick Comerford)

Bathurst has also given his name to an old saying or question associated with English dining traditions.

Tradition calls for Port served at dinner to be passed to the left – as the saying goes, ‘pass the Port to port’ – pouring a glass for your neighbour on your right before you do so. The bottle or decanter should not touch the table on its way around. If a diner fails to pass the Port, others at the table may ask ‘Do you know the Bishop of Norwich?’

The origin of the question is attributed to Bishop Bathurst. He lived to the age of 93, but by then his eyesight was failing and he had a tendency to fall asleep at the table near the end of a meal. As result, he often failed to pass on the Port, so that several decanters would accumulate at his right elbow, to the distress of anyone further up the table.

All this hardly explains how in his sculpture in the north transept in Norwich Cathedral. But Bishop Bathurst was a bon vivant said to possess a prodigious capacity for wine consumption, and he was sometimes suspected of using his frailties to his advantage.

Other sources say the question originates with John Sheepshanks, Bishop of Norwich in 1893-1910, and Bishop Sheepshanks did his best to perpetuate this notion. His portrait, donated by his grand-daughter, hangs on the wall at Taylor’s Quinta de Vargellas in Porto as an encouragement to guests to pass the Port.

English names dominate the Port trade in Porto (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Walking down the hill from Porto Cathedral during a visit to the Portuguese city, I decided to stop in a small shop selling varieties of port by the glass and the bottle, and serving it with dark chocolate, to learn a little more about Port.

Port wine (vinho do Porto), or simply Port, is a fortified wine produced with distilled grape spirits exclusively in the Douro Valley in this part of Portugal.

Port is typically a sweet, red wine, often served as a dessert wine, but it also comes in dry, semi-dry, and white varieties.

Port is produced from grapes grown and processed in the demarcated Douro region. The wine is then fortified by the addition of a neutral grape spirit known as aguardente to stop fermentation, leaving residual sugar in the wine and boosting its alcohol content. The wine is then stored and aged, often in barrels stored in a ‘Lodge’ or ‘cellar,’ before being bottled.

This wine became known as ‘port’ in the late 17th century because wine from the Douro Valley was brought to Porto for export to other parts of Europe. The Douro Valley stretches from the village of Barqueiros, about 70 km upstream from Porto, and east almost to the Spanish border.

Over 100 varieties of grapes may be used in producing port, although only five are widely cultivated and used. White ports are produced the same way as red ports, but use white grapes, and all Ports commercially available are from a blend of different grapes.

The grapes grown for port are usually small, dense fruit that produce concentrated, long-lasting flavours, suitable for long ageing.

Until 1986, Port could only be exported from Portugal from Vila Nova de Gaia on south bank of the Douro, facing Porto. Traditionally, the wine was taken downriver in flat-bottomed boats, barcos rabelos, to be processed and stored.

But this tradition was brought to an end when several hydroelectric power dams were built along the river in the 1950s and 1960s. Now the wine is brough from the vineyards by tanker trucks and today the barcos rabelos are only used for racing and other displays.

The main categories of port include standard rubies, three-year-old tawnies and white ports. In English-speaking countries, Port is often served after meals as a dessert wine, often with cheese, nuts or chocolate. White and tawny ports are often served as aperitifs.

But there are many traditional church connections with Port.

A Liverpool wine merchant sent two new representatives to Viana do Castelo, north of Porto, in 1678 to learn the wine trade. When they arrived in the Douro Valley, they visited the Abbot of Lamego, who treated them to a ‘very agreeable, sweetish and extremely smooth’ wine that had been fortified with a distilled spirit. They were so pleased with the product that they bought up the Abbot’s entire lot and shipped it home.

Port became popular in England after the Methuen Treaty in 1703, when merchants were permitted to import it at a low duty, while war with France deprived English wine drinkers of French wine.

The continued British involvement in the port trade can be seen in the names of many Port shippers and brands, including Broadbent, Cockburn, Croft, Dow, Gould Campbell, Graham, Osborne, Offley, Sandeman, Taylor and Warre.

Pass the Port to the left please … a choice of bottles in a shop window in Porto (Photograph; Patrick Comerford)

Church-goers in Limerick During War and Revolution

First World War memorial in the Church of Ireland, Rathkeale (courtesy: Patrick Comerford)

Patrick Comerford

Throughout the First World War, the War of Independence, and the Civil War, Protestants of all denominations throughout Limerick city and county kept their churches open, maintained their church and social life, and proclaimed constantly their goodwill towards their neighbours and, after the Treaty, their loyalty to the new Irish Free State. Throughout the Civil War, cathedral services continued in St Mary’s, together with ordinations and Holy Week addresses, Sunday services continued in parish churches, and diocesan organisations, including the diocesan synod and council, sought to maintain a semblance of normal church life.1 But this period was also marked by a number of attacks and killings that were inevitably perceived as sectarian.

Members of the Church of Ireland, Methodists, and Presbyterians in Limerick identified overwhelmingly with the British cause in the First World War, and few showed any open sympathy with Irish nationalism and independence. Those members of the Church of Ireland who identified with nationalism at the time stand out as exceptional, although none could be regarded as a marginal member of the Church of Ireland. Conor O’Brien (1880−1952), skipper of the Kelpie during the Kilcoole gun running in August 1914, was a grandson of William Smith O’Brien and a nephew of both Lucius Henry O’Brien, who was the dean of Limerick from 1905 to 1913, and the Revd Robert Malcolm Gwynn (1877−1962), who gave the Irish Citizen Army its name. His cousin Mary Spring Rice (1888−1924), a crew member of the Asgard, was a bishop’s granddaughter. Sir Thomas Myles (1857−1937), who skippered the Chotah in the Kilcoole gun running, was a brother of the dean of Dromore, the Very Revd Edward Albert Myles (1865−1951).2

However, as war memorials in churches throughout Limerick attest, during the revolutionary decade the vast majority of ordinary Protestant churchgoers identified not with independence but with family members who enlisted during the First World War.

Experience of the First World War

The experience of war blighted the lives of almost every Protestant family in these years and in the decades that followed. The men who signed up and fought in the main fields of battle, such as Flanders, the Somme, the Gallipoli landings, and Thessaloniki, included about one hundred former members of the Church Lads’ Brigade, a church-based youth organisation in the Limerick city parishes. It is difficult to overstate the impact of the war on Protestant family life in Limerick. The Heaphy family, for example, paid a heavy price with the deaths of three brothers: Private William Heaphy (28) died of his wounds on 7 May 1916; Gunner Frederick Heaphy (17) was killed on 3 May 1917; and Lance Corporal John Eyre Heaphy (33) was killed on 7 April 1918. A fourth brother, George Heaphy, survived the war. All three Heaphy brothers who died are named on the war memorial in St Mary’s Cathedral, along with two Fogerty brothers, two Hackett brothers, and two brothers from the Wills family. When injured men died at home, their families and churches went to great lengths in organising their funerals. Lieutenant William Brabazon Owens died of his wounds at the age of twenty on 25 June 1916, and received a military funeral in St Mary’s Cathedral. The funeral cortege was headed by a firing party and an army band; his coffin, covered with the union fag and his sword, belt, and cap, was borne on a gun carriage.3

After the First World War, war memorials were erected in St Mary’s Cathedral and in ordinary churches throughout Limerick. The cathedral war memorial was unveiled in 1922 and dedicated ‘In memory of the Men of Thomond fallen in the War: 1914–18.’ The forty-three names are listed alphabetically, without class division or separate categories for ‘officers’ and ‘men’. Lord Glentworth (Captain Edmond William Claude Gerard de Vere Pery), the twenty-three-year-old heir of the Earl of Limerick, was killed in action on 18 May 1918; on the monument, he takes his place alphabetically between a Gabbett and a Gore. In contrast, the war memorial in Holy Trinity Church, Rathkeale, has only seven names, but separates the officers from the men. Their deaths are seen as heroic and are imbued with religious significance, emphasised in the heading and the Biblical citation: ‘1914−1918, To the Glory of God and in loving memory of the following officers and men from this parish who laid down their lives in the Great War … Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friend.’

Fear among parishioners: The revolutionary years

After the First World War, and as the War of Independence intensified, the Church of Ireland faced difficulties in maintaining diocesan activities. The 1920 diocesan report, for example, refers to ‘the difficulties of travelling, and the early hour at which people must be in their houses.’4 Peter Switzer, an elderly, seventy-five-year-old bachelor, was shot and fatally wounded on 10 January 1922 while he was attending the funeral of his sister in Castletown Church near Pallaskenry.5 When a memorial service for Mrs Maria Lindsay (whose murder as an informer by the Cork No. 1 Brigade IRA on 11 March 1921 caused outrage) was held in St Mary’s Cathedral on 28 January 1922, 450 military of all ranks and ninety Royal Irish Constabulary members attended. In many ways, this service also served to express public anguish in the immediate aftermath of the death of Peter Switzer.6 A week later, on Sunday 5 February 1922, the war memorial in St Mary’s Cathedral was unveiled at a service attended by 800 people. It was unveiled by Brigadier General Louis Wyatt and was dedicated by the newly-elected Bishop of Limerick, Ardfert, and Aghadoe, Harry Vere White.7 Wyatt was the commanding officer of the troops in Limerick, but was probably invited to unveil the monument because he had become a popular public figure as the general who brought the ‘Unknown Warrior’ from France for burial in Westminster Abbey the previous November.

As the conditions for civil war unfolded across the land in spring 1922, the British Army in Limerick was confined to barracks, and the Church of Ireland Gazette described ‘a strange and dangerous condition of affairs’ in the city.8 Yet, throughout the 1922−23 period, religious services continued in St Mary’s and in parish churches, while the diocesan organisations such as the synod and council worked to maintain the normal routines of church life.9 But on 28 March 1922, an attempt was made to burn Kilpeacon Rectory. Canon Charles Atkinson, who was also precentor of Limerick, may have been singled out because he had been an army chaplain during the First World War. Bishop White visited Kilpeacon the following Sunday and urged calm, saying that Church of Ireland members were ‘law-respecting, God-fearing’ people who showed their patriotism in ‘their frank and loyal acceptance of a new form of Government.’10 In the days that followed, the pavilion of the Limerick Protestant Young Men’s Association (LPYMA) in Farranshone was burnt to the ground, bullets were fired through the windows of its premises on O’Connell Street, and an attempt was made to bomb the building.11 Protestants in Limerick called a public meeting on 4 April 1922 to express their disgust at sectarian outrages in Belfast. The meeting was chaired by Sir Charles Barrington, who – despite the earlier murder of his daughter in May 1921 – praised the toleration shown to Protestants in Limerick and insisted that they ‘had thrived’ in a Catholic community. William Waller declared that Protestants – ‘a small, a very small, minority’ − carried on their daily lives without interference. Their sentiments were echoed by Captain James O’Grady Delmege, who declared that Protestants in Limerick had ‘received nothing but kindness, courtesy and goodwill at the hands of their fellow-countrymen.’12

Brave efforts were made to continue, not only with church-going, but also with the social life of church members. The LPYMA felt confident enough to hold a sports day at its Ennis Road grounds on 27 April 1922 ‘after the lapse of some years.’13 That weekend, however, the diocesan curate, the Revd Ralph Harbord, was shot and seriously wounded on the steps of his father’s rectory in west Cork. In a sermon the following Sunday, White referred to this shooting, and the related murders of thirteen Protestants in the Dunmanway area, as a ‘grim reminder’ of the helplessness of ‘scattered, disarmed members of the Church of Ireland in the South of Ireland.’14

As the new state found its feet, the Diocese of Limerick, Ardfert, and Aghadoe reflected the general mood throughout southern dioceses, eager to express loyalty to the new Irish Free State, yet anxious to see an end to violence. In the diocesan report of 19 June 1922, the diocesan auditor, C.H. Fitt, noted that ‘Nation and Church’ had been ‘passing through’ a ‘great crisis and change’, but his report pledged the loyalty of the church to ‘the new state’ and its commitment to ‘the welfare of all the people in our beloved native land.’15 When the diocesan synod met in the Diocesan Hall in Pery Square on 5 July 1922, disruptions to transport prevented a full attendance and the synod struggled to find a quorum. In his address, Bishop White declared: ‘We meet today in great anxiety about public affairs and in a city which is in the hands of opposing bands of armed men.’ White claimed that the Church of Ireland in Limerick had lost up to 60 per cent of its members ‘and many churches are now half empty.’ As a consequence, parishes were amalgamated and fewer curates were employed. ‘Ireland is losing many of her best, most patriotic, and most progressive citizens, who are forced to leave their native land by economic causes or by political and religious intolerance.’ The financial reports showed that collections and subscriptions were falling off, reflecting that economic and numerical decline.16

First World War memorial by Conor O’Brien, St Mary’s Cathedral (courtesy: Patrick Comerford)

War and memory

In the aftermath of the War of Independence and the Civil War, the diocesan report for 1923 noted that the year ‘began in strife and disorder’, but ‘happily ended in peace’ and with a ‘general improvement of the civic life of the country.’17 By 1924, the Diocesan Council was giving ‘thanks to Almighty God for His providential guidance’ and the ‘quietness and peace’ that allowed church life to continue.18

At his diocesan synod in 1923, White lamented the ‘hundreds of industrious Protestant Irish men and women’ who had left ‘because they felt that they were not welcome here, and that satisfactory careers could not be secured for their boys and girls in their own country’. If this hinted at sectarian undertones, White also added that ‘anything like a Protestant exodus would be deplored by our present rulers’.19 But the Protestant exodus continued. Prominent among those who left was Sir Charles Barrington, who never returned; he sold Glenstal Castle in 1926 and died in Hampshire in 1943, aged ninety-three. Ordinary families suffered the greatest haemorrhage: by 1926, the Church of Ireland population in Limerick city had dropped by 55.4 per cent from the figure in 1911, the Methodist population had declined by 51 per cent, and the Presbyterians had fallen by 82.6 per cent.

The sufferings of laity and clergy alike were seldom spoken of. Noone was ever charged with Peter Switzer’s murder, and his youngest sister Eliza died in 1927 at the age of seventy-five, bringing to an end their branch of the Switzer family. The sectarian undercurrents remained for a decade or more after independence. During a wave of sectarian attacks that swept across Ireland in the summer of 1935, an estimated crowd of 200−300 young men attacked churches and Protestant-owned shops and homes in Limerick on Saturday night, 20 July 1935, including Trinity Episcopal Church on Catherine Street and St Michael’s Church of Ireland on Pery Square, the homes of Canon Thomas Abbot and Archdeacon John Waller, the LPYMA building, the Gospel Hall, the Diocesan Hall, and the Masonic Club, and they attempted to set fire to the Presbyterian Church on Henry Street.20 St Peter and St Paul Church, the Church of Ireland parish church in Kilmallock, was destroyed in an arson attack the following night, while the windows of the local rector’s home were smashed along with those of a Protestant-owned shop. No-one was ever convicted or jailed for the attacks.21

Mary Spring Rice died in a sanatorium in Wales in 1924. When her body was brought back for burial in the Church of Ireland churchyard in Foynes, she was given a guard of honour by the local IRA, the Gaelic League, and trade unionists.22 But the role played by a few other members of the Church of Ireland in the War of Independence was forgotten by their co-religionists and their neighbours alike. Conor O’Brien failed to get elected to the Senate in 1925 and spent his later years in semi-isolation on Foynes Island, where he died in 1952. Sir Thomas Myles had become a colonel in the Royal Army Medical Corps on the outbreak of the First World War and an honorary surgeon to King George V; he died in 1937 in the Richmond Hospital, Dublin, where he spent much of his career.

In the decades that followed, as churches continued to close, every effort was made to ensure that their war memorials were not lost. The memorials in Christ Church Methodist Church, Limerick, for example, include a war memorial with six names salvaged from the Presbyterian Church on Henry Street when it closed. When Rathkeale Methodist Church closed, the war memorial was moved to Ballingrane Methodist Church near Adare.

To this day, the war memorials in many churches in all three denominations remain the focus for Remembrance Sunday services each November. Yet, only one Church of Ireland churchyard in County Limerick has memorials to members of the Church of Ireland who supported the nationalist cause. A plaque on the gate leading into Mount Trenchard churchyard near Foynes was unveiled in 2014: ‘In memory of Conor O’Brien, Kitty O’Brien, George Cahill, Mary Spring Rice, Thomas Fitzsimons, Sir Thomas Myles. Go ndéana Dia trócaire orthú. Limerick men and women who imported rifles for the Irish Volunteers, July 1914.’ The church at Mount Trenchard had been long closed by 2014, however, and all that remained standing was the church tower. Perhaps the determination to keep open other churches in places such as Castletown and Kilmallock reflects, not only the piety and commitment of their parishioners, but an inherited and inbuilt yet unspoken determination not to concede to the sectarian attacks of previous decades.

Memorial to Limerick members of the Howth and Kilcoole gun running team, Mount Trenchard churchyard, Foynes. Mary Spring Rice and Conor O’Brien are buried within (courtesy: Patrick Comerford)

Notes

1. See, for example, Church of Ireland Gazette, 10 March, 16 June 1922.
2. Valerie Jones, Rebel Prods: The forgotten story of Protestant radical nationalists and the 1916 Rising (Dublin, 2016), passim.
3. Limerick Chronicle, 27 June 1916.
4. Representative Church Body Library, Dublin (RCB Library), D13 Limerick, Ardfert & Killaloe Diocesan Records, 1693–2008: 13/6, Diocesan Report, 1920, p 33.
5. John Lucey, ‘The shooting of Peter Switzer’, North Munster Antiquarian Journal, 53 (2013), pp 237-240.
6. Church of Ireland Gazette, 3 February 1922.
7. Ibid., 10 February 1922.
8. Ibid., 10 March 1922.
9. See Ibid., 10 March, 16 June 1922.
10. Ibid., 7 April 1922.
11. Thomas Keane, ‘Class, religion and society in Limerick city, 1922–1939’ (PhD thesis, Mary Immaculate College, University of Limerick, 2015), pp 54-6.
12. Ibid, pp 54-55; Brian Hughes, ‘Unionists and loyalists in Limerick, 1922–23’ in Seán William Gannon (ed.), The inevitable conflict: Essays on the Civil War in County Limerick (Limerick, 2022), p. 94; Limerick Chronicle, 5 April 1922; Irish Times, 5 April 1922.
13. Church of Ireland Gazette, 5 May 1922.
14. Ibid., 10 May 1922.
15. RCB Library, D13/13/6, Diocesan Report, 1921, p 4.
16. Church of Ireland Gazette, 28 July 1922.
17. RCB Library, D13/13/6, Diocesan Report, 1923, pp 3-4.
18. RCB Library, D13/13/6, Diocesan Report, 1924, p 4.
19. Church of Ireland Gazette, 22 June 1923.
20. Limerick Leader, 9 January 2010. The primary context for these attacks was an outbreak of sectarian attacks against Catholics in Northern Ireland following that year’s 12 July celebrations.
21. Irish Times, 22 July 1935; Limerick Leader, 27 July 1935.
22. Jones, Rebel Prods, p. 90.

Contributor’s Note:

The Revd Canon Professor Patrick Comerford was Precentor of St Mary’s Cathedral, Limerick, and priest-in-charge of the Rathkeale Group of Parishes (2017–22), including Rathkeale, Askeaton, Castletown, and Tarbert. He is a former adjunct assistant professor in Trinity College, Dublin and a former Irish Times journalist. He now lives in retirement in England. www.patrickcomerford. Com

• ‘Church-goers in Limerick During War and Revolution’ is Chapter 6 (pp 83-89) in Dr Seán William Gannon and Dr Brian Hughes (eds), Histories of Protestant Limerick, 1912–1923 (Limerick: Limerick City and County Council, 2023, ISBN 978-1-999-6911-6)

‘Histories of Protestant Limerick, 1912–1923’ … published in recent days in Limerick

Rathmines Library has been progressive and pioneering since it opened in 1913

Rathmines Library, on the corner of Lower Rathmines Road and Leinster Road, opened 110 years ago in 1913 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2023)

Patrick Comerford

I was recalling yesterday how three buildings grace the skyline and dominate the skyline of Rathmines: Rathmines Church with its giant green copper dome, and which is celebrating the bicentenary of its parish this year; Rathmines Library; and Rathmines Town Hall, with its clock tower.

Rathmines Library had been my local library when I was in my teens, and in recent weeks I used the library for some of my research for a forthcoming publication in Limerick. With its classical façade, replete with a William Morris stained glass window, the library has been a prominent landmark since it first opened 110 years ago in 1913.

Rathmines Library opened in its present location on the corner of Lower Rathmines Road and Leinster Road on 24 October 1913. But the first public library in Rathmines opened in June 1887 in rented premises at 53 Rathmines Road. The library soon needed more space, and in 1899 moved to 67 Rathmines Road, remaining there for 14 years. Rathmines Fire Brigade later used the same building.

Rathmines and Rathgar Urban District Council applied in 1902 for a grant to Andrew Carnegie, who was making large grants of money towards building libraries around the world. An initial grant of £7,500 in 1903 was later increased to £8,500. It took the town council some time to find a suitable site for the library at 157 Lower Rathmines Road, but building work began in 1912.

The Dublin-based architect Frederick George Hicks (1870-1965) won the competition to design the new library and his partnership firm of Batchelor and Hicks of Dublin were the architects for the new building.

Frederick Hicks was born in Banbury, Oxfordshire, on 16 May 1870, a son of Joseph Hicks, linen draper, and his wife Mary. His architectural training was at the London Architectural Association School and Finsbury Technical College. At 20, he moved to Dublin in 1890 to the office of James Rawson Carroll, where he worked with Frederick Batchelor. He later worked with both William Henry Byrne and Sir Thomas Drew, before setting up his own practice in Dublin in 1895, working from 5 Saint Stephen’s Green, 28 South Frederick Street and 35a Kildare Street.

Batchelor and Hicks set up a partnership at 86 Merrion Square in 1905, and their practice continued until 1922, when Batchelor retired. Hicks continued to work until his retirement in 1945. He was president of the RIAI in 1929-1931, and exhibited frequently at the exhibition of the Water Colour Society of Ireland and the Royal Hibernian Academy.

Hicks died at home at The Tower, Malahide, on 24 April 1965 shortly before his 95th birthday and was buried in Saint Andrew’s churchyard. His former office at 86 Merrion Square has a much-photographed front door and was later the offices of GVA Donal O’Buachalla (now Avison Young), where my father was once a director until his retirement.

Hicks designed many artisan housing schemes, including many in Rathmines, and his other designs include Saint Thomas’s Church (later Saint George and Saint Thomas Church), Cathal Brugha Street, Dublin, and Saint Peter and Saint Paul Church, Kilmallock, Co Limerick.

The library and technical school next door were part of the same building, but each had a separate entrance (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2023)

Hicks’s design of the library is a fine example of neo-Georgian style architecture. The library was built in red brick and was designed to fit in with the style of Rathmines Town Hall, designed by Sir Thomas Drew, and it was intended to be an ‘ornament to the township’. The library and technical school next door were part of the same building, but each had a separate entrance.

The Baroque style façade is composed of Arklow brick walls with terracotta dressings. The library and technical school next door were part of the same building but each had a separate entrance, with the library entrance flanked by two-storey high Ionic columns.

A ventilating cupola is in the centre of the roof, and large Venetian windows provide light to the ground floor. The ground floor included a newspaper reading room, an open access lending library, a strong room and a librarian’s room. The large sunny room on the ground floor where people could read the daily newspapers was innovative in a day when newspapers were expensive for ordinary people.

A teak staircase leads up to the landing, where a handsome stained-glass window designed by William Morris depicting ‘Literature’ overlooks the stairwell. There the staircase divides into two parallel flights that lead to the first floor.

The first floor included a well-equipped reference room, with an inner room for periodicals and a lecture hall, now the exhibition room.

The Library and Technical Institute opened on 24 October 1913. During the opening speeches in the town hall, a suffragette seized the chance to shout about ‘votes for women!’ A report at the time said that Sir Thomas Wallace Russell (1841-1920), who was speaking, encouraged those present not to give attention to the woman.

In its early days, Rathmines was a pioneering and progressive library, introducing open access lending and a self-contained children’s library with its own dedicated librarian. Mary Kettle, a councillor in Rathmines, and other women councillors were interested in making the lives of poor children better. They voted to provide school meals for children and supported opening a children’s library in Rathmines 100 years ago in 1923.

Roisin Walsh, the first children’s librarian in Ireland, was based in Rathmines. She became the first chief librarian of Dublin City Council when all the authorities merged in the 1930s.

The library presented both the written word and the writers and thinkers of the day to the general public. It became a true literary workshop catering for the student and general reader in an atmosphere of peace and learning, making information, education and the enjoyment of reading available to all.

A popular free lecture series included topics from ‘Prehistoric Man’ by FE Stephens to ‘My Own Poetry’ by Senator William Butler Yeats in 1926. The future President Douglas Hyde gave a talk in 1928 on Irish folklore, and in 1931 the campaigner and academic Hannah Sheehy Skeffington spoke about Russia.

The library was used by a variety of community groups: Rathmines Chess Club had its headquarters there, the Public Health Department held clinics there, and the Thomas Davis branch of the Gaelic League held meetings there.

The library reopened in 2011 after extensive refurbishment works that removed barriers for people with disabilities and created an open, accessible and welcoming environment. A passenger lift, automatic doors, accessible signage, accessible toilets and improved furniture and shelving were installed, and significant conservation works restored the building to its former glory.

Some of the restored features include reading desks and the original floors, including the oak parquet on the ground floor, the solid pine on the first floor and the teak staircase. The literary associations with Rathmines and local writers were strengthened, re-enforcing Dublin’s designation as a UNESCO City of literature.

Today the library offers access to a collection of 35,000 items, including books, audio books, large print, DVDs and reference material. The children’s library reflects the fact that 35% of active borrowers are children. There is free Wi-Fi, space for study and research, and advice and guidance from professional staff.

Rathmines Library marked its centenary 10 years ago with a programme of lectures, exhibitions and children’s events in 2013. Today, the library stands proudly in the heart of Rathmines, on the corner of Lower Rathmines Road and Leinster Road. It is still a major part of the community and is visited by hundreds of people every day.

Rathmines Library is visited by hundreds of people every day (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2023)