Thoughts of peace at Willen Lake and reminders of visitors from Hiroshima

The Japanese Peace Pagoda overlooks Willen Lake (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2022)

Patrick Comerford

Two of us visited the Buddhist Temple and the Japanese Peace Pagoda at Willen Lake in Milton Keynes this week to record my annual address as President of the Irish Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament (CND) at the annual CND commemoration in Dublin on Saturday (6 August) marking the 77th anniversary of the atomic bombing of Hiroshima.

A ceremony of hope and healing takes place in front of the Peace Pagoda from 7:30 pm on Saturday, followed by floating candle-lit lanterns on Willen Lake. A notice at the temple says ‘the ceremony seeks to reflect on the horrors of war in an atomic age, to remember those who have died, and to pray for peace and harmony between all people and nations.’ All are welcome to join and to float a candle.

Another notice reminds us: ‘Denial of violence through violence is like adding darkness to existing darkness – it leads to further darkness.’

Other signs dotted around the temple grounds call for prayers for the people of Ukraine and Russia, saying: ‘Life is the greatest treasure.’

The Buddhist Temple on the shores Willen Lake … recording an address for Hiroshima Day (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2022)

The community at the Temple at Willen Lake has long been supportive of nuclear disarmament and the activities of CND. Monks from Milton Keynes visited Ireland in October 1980, when I accompanied them on a visit the Department of Foreign Affairs in their calls for nuclear disarmament, and in their protests against proposals in Ireland for uranium mining.

One of those visiting monks, the Revd Gyosei Handa, was the Abbot of Milton Keynes Peace Pagoda and Temple from 1980 until his tragic death in an accident in 2017 just weeks after joining an anti-nuclear walk and leading the annual Hiroshima Day lantern floating on Willen Lake.

The fifth anniversary of his death is being commemorated with a special service in the Temple later this month (10 am, Sunday 21 August 2022).

The Circle of Hearts Medicine Wheel on the shores of Willen Lake (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2022)

The Buddhist Temple and the Peace Pagoda are often linked with activities nearby at the Circle of Hearts Medicine Wheel on the shores of Willen, which we visited later in the afternoon.

The Medicine Wheel is set in ‘sacred’ Green Space in Willen North Park and looks like a mini-Stonehenge close to the lakeshore. It was designed in 200 by Roy Littlesun, who was inspired by the legends of the Hopi Nation in North America. Their prophesies foretell an age of peace when all nations from the four corners of the earth join a common effort to live in peace and harmony.

The Wheel consists of two concentric circles of stone, with longer stones at the north, south, east and west points. Two extra pairs of stone at the north-east and south-west of the circle are aligned with the needle stone alongside the lake. These join the ‘Midsummer Line’ that follows the Midsummer sunrise that runs through the Tree Cathedral to the Belvedere in Campbell Park, along Midsummer Boulevard in Central Milton Keynes.

The Wheel is made up of 108 limestones from the village of Weston Underwood. Native Chiefs from the Onodage tribe came to Milton Keynes and spent their time praying and smoking their pipes of peace over the stones. The Wheel’s design also pays homage to British traditions of building circles alongside meeting places and important sites.

Four large gateways in the wheel represent the four compass points, the seasons, the races and the four elements. The two lesser gateways on the outer circle are aligned along the earth’s natural energy line. The outer and inner circles symbolise our outer and inner worlds, the universe and humanity within.

‘The Africa Stone,’ a single flat stone south-east of the East Gate, is linked to the Kalahari Bush people who have also built a ‘Circle of Hearts Medicine Wheel’ in the Kalahari Desert in Namibia.

The Sacred Fire at the centre is lit at some ceremonies. This fire represents the Sacred Spirit in all things, places, people, and for all time. The Guardians of the Wheel believe that its essence is unconditional love, wisdom, peace and illumination.

Roy Littlesun, who designed and initiated the Wheel, is the adopted son of a Native American elder Titus Quomayumptewa. A group of volunteers co-ordinated and assisted in building the Wheel, and the Trustees or Guardians of the Wheel were formed from those first volunteers.

A prayer for peace in times of war at the Temple by Willen Lake (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2022)

The aims of the Medicine Wheel are:

• To provide a Sacred Space in Willen North Park;
• To advance education;
• To widen public participation for balance of use of a green space for quiet reflection, thought, meditation, prayer, gatherings, ceremonies and celebrations;
• To promote the peaceful message and meaning of the Medicine Wheel;
• To promote cross-cultural and interfaith dialogue.

The Common Ground is available to individuals and groups for meditation, celebration and prayer. The use of the Wheel is inclusive, non-denominational and open to all faiths. Those uses range from the Blessing of Rivers to International Women’s Day, and all are welcome at any ceremonies.

Groups wishing to use the Medicine Wheel for events or ceremonies can contact the trustees through the Temple.

• Patrick Comerford’s address on Hiroshima Day is available HERE.

With a group of visiting Buddhist monks from Milton Keynes and Japan at the Department of Foreign Affairs in Dublin in 1980 (Photograph: Tom Lawlor/The Irish Times)

Small books, large empires, campaigning newspapers: anniversaries for thinking

Ludwig Wittgenstein and his Limerick-born interpreter Elizabeth Anscombe

Patrick Comerford

The ‘Decade of Centenaries’ has moved to a new phase this year, with commemorations – among others – of the centenaries of the opening of the Stormont Parliament, the signing of the Anglo-Irish Treaty, the formation of the Irish Free State in 1921, and partition.

This year also marks the centenary of the publication of a short book. The name of the book – Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus – is not punchy, and the centenary edition is unlikely to appear on best-selling lists this year or to find its way into the decorations of shop windows. But this book has changed philosophy for ever.

Ludwig Wittgenstein (1889-1951) was a Viennese-born Cambridge philosopher who had been influenced at an early stage by Tolstoy and Dostoevsky. He worked primarily in the fields of logic, the philosophy of mathematics, the philosophy of mind, and the philosophy of language.

In his lifetime, Wittgenstein published just this one small, 75-page book, Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus (1921), one article, one book review and a children’s dictionary. His major work, Philosophical Investigations, was not published until two years after his death.

After World War I, and following the publication and translation of his Tractatus, he returned to Cambridge in 1929. There he met Dr Maurice O’Connor ‘Con’ Drury (1907-1976), then an ordinand in Westcott House, the Anglican theological college in Cambridge.

Con Drury was instrumental in arranging the philosopher’s many visits to Ireland in the 1930s and 1940s. During those visits, he stayed at Ross’s Hotel, now the Ashling Hotel in Parkgate Street, Dublin, in Kilpatrick House in Red Cross, Co Wicklow, as a guest of the Kingston family, and at the Drury family cottage in Kinvara, Co Galway.

Wittgenstein enjoyed strolling in the Phoenix Park and the National Botanic Gardens, Glasnevin, where a plaque on steps in the Great Palm House recall that he liked to sit and write there in the late 1940s. He returned to Cambridge and died in 1951.

Westcott House, Cambridge … an encounter with Con Drury brought Wittgenstein to Ireland (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

* * *

One of his best-known students was Professor Gertrude Elizabeth Margaret Anscombe (1919-2001). She was born in Limerick and baptised in Saint Mary’s Cathedral, and became one of the greatest English philosophers of the 20th century.

She was Ludwig Wittgenstein’s student and one of his literary executors. She became an authority on his work, editing and translating many of his writings, including his Philosophical Investigations.

Elizabeth Anscombe was Professor of Philosophy in the University of Cambridge from 1970 to 1986. When she died 20 years ago, she was buried in a grave in Cambridge beside the plot where Wittgenstein was buried half a century earlier.

Bertrand Russell said Wittgenstein was ‘the most perfect example I have ever known of genius as traditionally conceived.’ Iris Murdoch’s debut novel centred on a line from the Tractatus. His influence reaches almost every discipline in the humanities and social sciences, and he has influenced many current Anglican theologians, including Andrew Davison and Alison Milbank.

Events to mark the centenary of the Tractatus include an international symposium of philosophers, an exhibition in Vienna and new editions in German and English.

Wittgenstein was a guest of the Kingston family in Kilpatrick House in Red Cross, Co Wicklow (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

German identity after
150 years of unification

As Angela Merkel steps down in September after 16 years as Chancellor of Germany, there are concerns about the rise of the far-right in Germany and questions about whether Germany can remain the powerhouse of the European Union.

Angela Merkel’s enduring presence on the European stage makes it difficult to remember that Germany is a new state, by European standards, and modern Germany only exists since German unification 150 years ago.

The Unification of Germany formally took place on 18 January 1871 at the Hall of Mirrors in the Palace of Versailles, following Bismarck’s humiliation of France in the Franco-Prussian War. William of Prussia was proclaimed the Emperor of the German Empire, and Berlin became the capital of the new Germany.

German national identity only developed in the 19th century, and German Unification postdates, for example, the proclamation of the modern Italian state (1861), the formation of the modern Greek state (1827), the Act of Union (1801), and the French Revolution (1789).

German colonies were spread across Africa, Asia, and the Pacific. Between 50% and 70% of the Herero population in in German South-West Africa (Namibia) was exterminated in 1904. It became known as the Herero and Namaqua Genocide, and was an act of racist savagery that seemed unique at the time. But it became the forerunner of the Turkish genocide of Armenians and Pontic Greeks, and then, in the 1930s and 1940s, the Holocaust and the attempted genocide of Jews.

The Brandenburg Gate … a symbol of both German unification and German imperialism (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

* * *

Writing recently in the New Statesman, Richard J Evans, former Regius Professor of History at Cambridge University, observed: ‘It is a curious fact that if you say Germany was not exclusively or even primarily responsible for the outbreak of war in 1914, you are regarded as left wing in Britain and right wing in Germany.’

Wilhelm II, the last Kaiser, was forced off the throne in the November revolution after Germany’s defeat in World War I. He went into exile in the Netherlands where he spent the rest of his life, and the German colonial empire came to an end in 1919.

Members of the Hohenzollern family, the Prussian royal family, openly identified with the Nazis in the 1930s. The public backing of ‘Crown Prince’ Wilhelm for the Nazis in 1932 and 1933 was a significant influence in persuading large numbers of monarchist Germans to vote for Hitler and to support the Third Reich. The ex-Kaiser’s fourth son, August Wilhelm, became a Nazi stormtrooper.

The Hohenzollern family has recently emerged from decades of obscurity and has initiated a number of legal battles to recover what they claim is family property, including castles, estates and art works.

As Professor Evans wrote, ‘A decision in their favour would mean in effect ignoring their ancestors’ collaboration with the Nazis’ and ‘undermine the Federal Republic’s continuing and, so far, largely successful efforts to come to terms with the Nazi past.’

Continuity and identity remain problems for Germany, even 150 years after German unification.

The Hohenzollern crypt in Berlin Cathedral (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

200 years of
‘Guardian’ journalism

For the past 50 years, I have been a daily reader of The Guardian, which is celebrating its bicentenary this year.

It is 200 years since a four-page weekly first appeared in Manchester in 1821. Since then, the Manchester Guardian has become The Guardian, and has published more than 54,000 editions, and several million pieces of journalism, including news reports, leaders, opinion articles, interviews, reviews, photographs and cartoons.

In its own words, The Guardian is ‘older than Germany, fish’n’chips, the FA Cup and Texas.’

At the beginning of the last century, the campaigning owner-editor, CP Scott, supported Irish Home Rule and opposed the Boer War. In 1914, the Guardian warned that a rush to war would be ‘a crime against Europe.’

Since then, the Guardian has embraced social justice, workers’ rights, redistributive economics, fairness, environmental concern, a measure of pacifism, an inclination for an underdog and a good sense of humour.

Sarah Tisdall leaked documents in 1983 revealing where cruise missiles would be deployed at Greenham Common. The Guardian was taken to court, and then editor Peter Preston, gave back the incriminating evidence – to the dismay of staff and readers. It was not the Guardian’s finest hour: Tisdall was jailed, and Preston later conceded he should have destroyed the documents at the outset.

The Guardian was first published in 1821 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

* * *

Some of its finest hours include taking on Jonathan Aitken in 1995. Aitken vowed to strike the Guardian down with the ‘trusty shield of British fair play’ and ‘the sword of truth.’ But determined journalists uncovered the supporting evidence they needed when they found key receipts in the basement of a bankrupt Swiss hotel.

Aitken had been receiving pay-offs from the Saudis, and when he was jailed for perjury for 18 months, the Guardian front-page headline proclaimed: ‘He lied and lied and lied.’ Niall Hamilton brought a £10 million libel case, but the evidence exposed him as liar and a cheat and brought an end to the ‘cash for questions’ case.

Chris McGreal witnessed genocide in Rwanda. Maggie O’Kane and Ed Vulliamy revealed the horrors of the siege of Sarajevo and the death camps in Bosnia.

Ewan McAskill told the story of Edward Snowden, the NSA files and in the biggest intelligence leak, uncovering the scale of western surveillance, and the Guardian played a pivotal role in the 2010 Wikileaks and in revealing the ‘Panama Papers.’

The newspaper that gave us memorable ‘typos’ such as a man named Brian who died of a ‘brian tumour’ also gave us the best-ever April Fools’ Day joke with a seven-page supplement on the attractions of San Serriffe on 1 April 1977.

Local newspapers are folding up and dying in England. The Lichfield Mercury, where I was a freelance contributor 50 years ago, began in 1815 but finally came to an end last year. The Guardian is constantly adapting to new circumstances and markets; hopefully, it has another 200 years of campaigning journalism ahead of it.

A special cartoon by Posy Symmonds celebrates 200 years of Guardian journalism

This feature was first published in the July 2021 edition of the ‘Church Review’ (Dublin and Glendalough.

Getting lost on the way, finding what is the truth

‘See, I am laying in Zion a stone, a cornerstone chosen and precious’ (I Peter 2: 6) ... a cross carved into a stone in the Franciscan Friary in Askeaton, Co Limerick (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2017)

Patrick Comerford,

The Fifth Sunday of Easter,

14 May 2017

11.15 a.m.: Holy Trinity Church, Rathkeale, Co Limerick, Morning Prayer.

Readings: Acts 7: 55-60; Psalm 31; I Peter 2: 2-10; John 14: 1-14.

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

I spent some time in the past week in London, at a meeting of the board or trustees of the Anglican mission agency USPG. It is a good way of keeping in touch with what is happening throughout the Anglican Communion, and because of the one-to-one conversations over lunch and coffee, of keeping in touch with what is happening in the Church of England, in theological education, and other areas.

But these meetings are also good for my health. I catch the Stansted Express into Liverpool Street station, and then I walk to the USPG offices in Southwark.

It seems every time I go on working trips like this, I manage to increase my daily walking averages. This week in London, I walked over 12 km on one day.

It is not that it is such a long walk from Liverpool Street to Southwark. I just find myself taking different routes, setting off in different directions to see different works of architecture, such as Wren churches, guild and city churches, historical and archaeological sites, public sculptures, and to photograph them.

I could easily get lost. No-one else, I am sure, would see the logic to the routes I take. And I have got to bear in mind certain landmarks, be conscious of distances and directions, so that I do not wander, do not lose my way, do not miss my train and do not arrive late for the start of meetings or flights in the evening.

Keeping focussed on landmarks, distances and directions is important. These are not matters of choice. I need to stay focussed in these ways so I do not get lost on my walks and so I do not miss the more important parts of the journey – so that I do not miss my meetings, my trains and my flights.

There is a well-known story in Ireland about a tourist stopping on a road and asking a man for directions to Galway, only to get the answer: ‘Well, if it were me, I wouldn’t start from here.’

So often it is easy to get lost on the way because we start not at the wrong place, but start in the wrong direction.

Many years ago, I was in the middle of Namibia, working with the churches during a difficult time when South African troops were beginning to withdraw.

I was in Windhoek, in the middle of the country, and was to visit a mission station on the border with Angola, where I would stay and meet church people, some returning guerrillas and some Irish peacekeepers from the army and the gardaí.

My colleague filled up with petrol, asked directions and we set off. But I had that sinking feeling we were heading in the wrong direction.

I am good at map-reading, but it was my innate instincts that told me we were heading in the wrong direction.

‘Turn around,’ I suggested.

‘No,’ she replied. ‘This is the road. They told me that in the filling station.’

‘We may be on the right road, but we are heading in the wrong direction.’

The conversation was getting tense. ‘So you’ve been here before then?’

‘No.’ I was trying to hold my patience. ‘But we are heading south. Keep going and we’ll end up in South Africa without being able to explain what we’re doing. North is back there.’

I knew every exchange meant another few miles in the wrong direction.

With an air of disbelief, I was asked: ‘How do you know?’

I spent my early childhood years on my grandmother’s farm. I gave a farm-boy’s answer, with a matter-of-fact confidence:

‘The sun is behind us, we are heading south. In the northern hemisphere, the sun rises in the east, moves south, sets in the west. Here in the south, the sun rises in the east, moves to north, and sets in the west. We should be facing the sun if are heading north.’

The car screeched to a halt. Screeches of laughter broke out.

‘I always took you for a logical person,’ she said. ‘Are you telling me you still believe the sun moves around the earth. What’s even more ridiculous … two suns, one moving in one direction, and the other in another way?’

It must have been my look that won the day.

I agreed we could continue driving, and end up being arrested at the South African border late that night … if we ever got there through the desert. Or we could take my advice, just for an hour, and just see what the next town was.

She believed me, and she believed in me. And yes, we got to the mission station and the Angolan border in time that evening.

Knowing the way is not a matter of opinion. It is a matter of truth.

Christ is not just an opinion about how to get there. He is not one of many directions or signposts. He is not a map or a guidebook, or my idea of what might be a good direction to follow.

He is the way, the actual way.

Not the way back, to an imaginary idyll that never existed.

Not the way forward to an imaginary existence that is merely wish fulfilment.

But the Way, the Way into the Kingdom of God, the Way to live out the values of that Kingdom as we journey on in the pilgrimage, the Way to accept and experience the love of God, the Way to accept and experience love one for another.

In our Gospel reading this morning, Thomas says to Christ, ‘Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?’ And Christ says to him, ‘I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. If you know me, you will know my Father also. From now on you do know him and have seen him.’

So following Christ is not about guess work. He is the way.

So following Christ is not about opting for one opinion. He is the truth.

And following Christ is not ending up down a dead-end to nowhere. He is life itself.

This is why Christianity was first known as ‘The Way’ (της οδου). This name appears in the Acts of the Apostles (see Acts 9: 2, Acts 19: 9 and Acts 19: 23).

When we follow the way, when we are on the right track, we actually find that the way, the journey, the pilgrimage, has its own purpose.

The Greek poet Constantine Cavafy makes this point about life as the journey, the way, in his poem Ithaka.

Since Homer’s Odyssey, the Greek island of Ithaka in the Ionian Sea has symbolised the destination of a long journey, the supreme aim that everyone tries to fulfil in life, the sweet homeland, the eternal calmness and satisfaction.

In his poem, Cavafy takes the legendary journey of Odysseus as the journey we all make through life and suggests that each of us is looking for our own Ithaka. In the end, however, it is not the goal but the journey that matters, because this journey makes us wise and gives us the rich gifts of experience, knowledge and maturity:

Keep Ithaka always in your mind.
Arriving there is what you are destined for.
But do not hurry the journey at all.
Better if it lasts for years,
so you are old by the time you reach the island,
wealthy with all you have gained on the way,
not expecting Ithaka to make you rich.

Ithaka gave you the marvellous journey.
Without her you would not have set out.
She has nothing left to give you now.

And if you find her poor, Ithaka won’t have fooled you.
Wise as you will have become, so full of experience,
you will have understood by then what these Ithakas mean.

So, the way is not an opinion, it is not an option, it is not something to turn our back on. It brings its own rewards in the pilgrimage of life. Christ the Way, the Truth and the Life, brings us to accept, experience, and live the life that is accepting, experiencing and living the love of God, and accepting, experiencing and living love for one another.

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

(Revd Canon Professor) Patrick Comerford is Priest-in-Charge, the Rathkeale and Kilnaughtin Group of Parishes. This sermon was prepared for Sunday 14 May 2017.

‘The stone that the builders rejected has become the chief cornerstone’ ... a cross cut into a cornerstone in the Monastery of Vlatádon in Thessaloniki (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

John 14: 1-14

1 Μὴ ταρασσέσθω ὑμῶν ἡ καρδία: πιστεύετε εἰς τὸν θεόν, καὶ εἰς ἐμὲ πιστεύετε. 2 ἐν τῇ οἰκίᾳ τοῦ πατρός μου μοναὶ πολλαί εἰσιν: εἰ δὲ μή, εἶπον ἂν ὑμῖν ὅτι πορεύομαι ἑτοιμάσαι τόπον ὑμῖν; 3 καὶ ἐὰν πορευθῶ καὶ ἑτοιμάσω τόπον ὑμῖν, πάλιν ἔρχομαι καὶ παραλήμψομαι ὑμᾶς πρὸς ἐμαυτόν, ἵνα ὅπου εἰμὶ ἐγὼ καὶ ὑμεῖς ἦτε. 4 καὶ ὅπου [ἐγὼ] ὑπάγω οἴδατε τὴν ὁδόν. 5 Λέγει αὐτῷ Θωμᾶς, Κύριε, οὐκ οἴδαμεν ποῦ ὑπάγεις: πῶς δυνάμεθα τὴν ὁδὸν εἰδέναι; 6 λέγει αὐτῷ [ὁ] Ἰησοῦς, Ἐγώ εἰμι ἡ ὁδὸς καὶ ἡ ἀλήθεια καὶ ἡ ζωή: οὐδεὶς ἔρχεται πρὸς τὸν πατέρα εἰ μὴ δι' ἐμοῦ. 7 εἰ ἐγνώκατέ με, καὶ τὸν πατέρα μου γνώσεσθε: καὶ ἀπ' ἄρτι γινώσκετε αὐτὸν καὶ ἑωράκατε αὐτόν.

8 λέγει αὐτῷ Φίλιππος, Κύριε, δεῖξον ἡμῖν τὸν πατέρα, καὶ ἀρκεῖ ἡμῖν. 9 λέγει αὐτῷ ὁ Ἰησοῦς, Τοσούτῳ χρόνῳ μεθ' ὑμῶν εἰμι καὶ οὐκ ἔγνωκάς με, Φίλιππε; ὁ ἑωρακὼς ἐμὲ ἑώρακεν τὸν πατέρα: πῶς σὺ λέγεις, Δεῖξον ἡμῖν τὸν πατέρα; 10 οὐ πιστεύεις ὅτι ἐγὼ ἐν τῷ πατρὶ καὶ ὁ πατὴρ ἐν ἐμοί ἐστιν; τὰ ῥήματα ἃ ἐγὼ λέγω ὑμῖν ἀπ' ἐμαυτοῦ οὐ λαλῶ: ὁ δὲ πατὴρ ἐν ἐμοὶ μένων ποιεῖ τὰ ἔργααὐτοῦ. 11 πιστεύετέ μοι ὅτι ἐγὼ ἐν τῷ πατρὶ καὶ ὁ πατὴρ ἐν ἐμοί: εἰ δὲ μή, διὰ τὰ ἔργα αὐτὰ πιστεύετε. 12 ἀμὴν ἀμὴν λέγω ὑμῖν, ὁ πιστεύων εἰς ἐμὲ τὰ ἔργα ἃ ἐγὼ ποιῶ κἀκεῖνοςποιήσει, καὶ μείζονα τούτων ποιήσει, ὅτι ἐγὼ πρὸς τὸν πατέρα πορεύομαι: 13 καὶ ὅ τι ἂν αἰτήσητε ἐν τῷ ὀνόματί μου τοῦτο ποιήσω, ἵνα δοξασθῇ ὁ πατὴρ ἐν τῷ υἱῷ: 14 ἐάν τιαἰτήσητέ με ἐν τῷ ὀνόματί μου ἐγὼ ποιήσω.

Translation (NRSV)

1 ‘Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me. 2 In my Father’s house there are many dwelling-places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? 3 And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also. 4 And you know the way to the place where I am going.’ 5 Thomas said to him, ‘Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?’ 6 Jesus said to him, ‘I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. 7 If you know me, you will know my Father also. From now on you do know him and have seen him.’

8 Philip said to him, ‘Lord, show us the Father, and we will be satisfied.’ 9 Jesus said to him, ‘Have I been with you all this time, Philip, and you still do not know me? Whoever has seen me has seen the Father. How can you say, “Show us the Father”? 10 Do you not believe that I am in the Father and the Father is in me? The words that I say to you I do not speak on my own; but the Father who dwells in me does his works. 11 Believe me that I am in the Father and the Father is in me; but if you do not, then believe me because of the works themselves. 12 Very truly, I tell you, the one who believes in me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these, because I am going to the Father. 13 I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son. 14 If in my name you ask me for anything, I will do it.

Collect:

Lord of all life and power,
who through the mighty resurrection of your Son
overcame the old order of sin and death
to make all things new in him:
Grant that we, being dead to sin
and alive to you in Jesus Christ,
may reign with him in glory;
to whom with you and the Holy Spirit
be praise and honour, glory and might,
now and in all eternity.

Penelope waiting for Odysseus ... Μαριάννα Βαλλιάνου, Η επιστροφή, Mariánna Valliánou, ‘The Return’

Ιθάκη, Κωνσταντίνος Π. Καβάφης

Σα βγεις στον πηγαιμό για την Ιθάκη,
να εύχεσαι νάναι μακρύς ο δρόμος,
γεμάτος περιπέτειες, γεμάτος γνώσεις.
Τους Λαιστρυγόνας και τους Κύκλωπας,
τον θυμωμένο Ποσειδώνα μη φοβάσαι,
τέτοια στον δρόμο σου ποτέ σου δεν θα βρεις,
αν μέν’ η σκέψις σου υψηλή, αν εκλεκτή
συγκίνησις το πνεύμα και το σώμα σου αγγίζει.
Τους Λαιστρυγόνας και τους Κύκλωπας,
τον άγριο Ποσειδώνα δεν θα συναντήσεις,
αν δεν τους κουβανείς μες στην ψυχή σου,
αν η ψυχή σου δεν τους στήνει εμπρός σου.

Να εύχεσαι νάναι μακρύς ο δρόμος.
Πολλά τα καλοκαιρινά πρωιά να είναι
που με τι ευχαρίστησι, με τι χαρά
θα μπαίνεις σε λιμένας πρωτοειδωμένους
να σταματήσεις σ’ εμπορεία Φοινικικά,
και τες καλές πραγμάτειες ν’ αποκτήσεις,
σεντέφια και κοράλλια, κεχριμπάρια κ’ έβενους,
και ηδονικά μυρωδικά κάθε λογής,
όσο μπορείς πιο άφθονα ηδονικά μυρωδικά
σε πόλεις Aιγυπτιακές πολλές να πας,
να μάθεις και να μάθεις απ’ τους σπουδασμένους.

Πάντα στον νου σου νάχεις την Ιθάκη.
Το φθάσιμον εκεί είν’ ο προορισμός σου.
Aλλά μη βιάζεις το ταξείδι διόλου.
Καλλίτερα χρόνια πολλά να διαρκέσει
και γέρος πια ν’ αράξεις στο νησί,
πλούσιος με όσα κέρδισες στον δρόμο,
μη προσδοκώντας πλούτη να σε δώσει η Ιθάκη.

Η Ιθάκη σ’ έδωσε τ’ ωραίο ταξείδι.
Χωρίς αυτήν δεν θάβγαινες στον δρόμο.
Άλλα δεν έχει να σε δώσει πια.

Κι αν πτωχική την βρεις, η Ιθάκη δεν σε γέλασε.
Έτσι σοφός που έγινες, με τόση πείρα,
ήδη θα το κατάλαβες η Ιθάκες τι σημαίνουν

Ithaka, Constantine P. Cavafy

As you set out for Ithaka
hope the voyage is a long one,
full of adventure, full of discovery.
Laistrygonians and Cyclops,
angry Poseidon – don’t be afraid of them:
you’ll never find things like that on your way
as long as you keep your thoughts raised high,
as long as a rare excitement
stirs your spirit and your body.
Laistrygonians and Cyclops,
wild Poseidon – you won’t encounter them
unless you bring them along inside your soul,
unless your soul sets them up in front of you.

Hope the voyage is a long one.
May there be many a summer morning when,
with what pleasure, what joy,
you come into harbours seen for the first time;
may you stop at Phoenician trading stations
to buy fine things,
mother of pearl and coral, amber and ebony,
sensual perfume of every kind –
as many sensual perfumes as you can;
and may you visit many Egyptian cities
to gather stores of knowledge from their scholars.

Keep Ithaka always in your mind.
Arriving there is what you are destined for.
But do not hurry the journey at all.
Better if it lasts for years,
so you are old by the time you reach the island,
wealthy with all you have gained on the way,
not expecting Ithaka to make you rich.

Ithaka gave you the marvellous journey.
Without her you would not have set out.
She has nothing left to give you now.

And if you find her poor, Ithaka won’t have fooled you.
Wise as you will have become, so full of experience,
you will have understood by then what these Ithakas mean.

– Constantine Cavafy (translated by Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard)

Finding the way is not a choice of opinion, but a matter of truth

‘The stone that the builders rejected has become the chief cornerstone’ ... a cross cut into a cornerstone in the Monastery of Vlatádon in Thessaloniki (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Patrick Comerford,

The Fifth Sunday of Easter,

14 May 2017

9.45 a.m.: Castletown Church, Pallaskenry, Co Limerick, the Parish Eucharist;

Readings: Acts 7: 55-60; Psalm 31; I Peter 2: 2-10; John 14: 1-14.

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

I spent some time in the past week in London, at a meeting of the board or trustees of the Anglican mission agency USPG. It is a good way of keeping in touch with what is happening throughout the Anglican Communion, and because of the one-to-one conversations over lunch and coffee, of keeping in touch with what is happening in the Church of England, in theological education, and other areas.

But these meetings are also good for my health. I catch the Stansted Express into Liverpool Street station, and then I walk to the USPG offices in Southwark.

It seems every time I go on working trips like this, I manage to increase my daily walking averages. This week in London, I walked over 12 km on one day.

It is not that it is such a long walk from Liverpool Street to Southwark. I just find myself taking different routes, setting off in different directions to see different works of architecture, such as Wren churches, guild and city churches, historical and archaeological sites, public sculptures, and to photograph them.

I could easily get lost. No-one else, I am sure, would see the logic to the routes I take. And I have got to bear in mind certain landmarks, be conscious of distances and directions, so that I do not wander, do not lose my way, do not miss my train and do not arrive late for the start of meetings or flights in the evening.

Keeping focussed on landmarks, distances and directions is important. These are not matters of choice. I need to stay focussed in these ways so I do not get lost on my walks and so I do not miss the more important parts of the journey – so that I do not miss my meetings, my trains and my flights.

There is a well-known story in Ireland about a tourist stopping on a road and asking a man for directions to Galway, only to get the answer: ‘Well, if it were me, I wouldn’t start from here.’

So often it is easy to get lost on the way because we start not at the wrong place, but start in the wrong direction.

Many years ago, I was in the middle of Namibia, working with the churches during a difficult time when South African troops were beginning to withdraw.

I was in Windhoek, in the middle of the country, and was to visit a mission station on the border with Angola, where I would stay and meet church people, some returning guerrillas and some Irish peacekeepers from the army and the gardaí.

My colleague filled up with petrol, asked directions and we set off. But I had that sinking feeling we were heading in the wrong direction.

I am good at map-reading, but it was my innate instincts that told me we were heading in the wrong direction.

‘Turn around,’ I suggested.

‘No,’ she replied. ‘This is the road. They told me that in the filling station.’

‘We may be on the right road, but we are heading in the wrong direction.’

The conversation was getting tense. ‘So you’ve been here before then?’

‘No.’ I was trying to hold my patience. ‘But we are heading south. Keep going and we’ll end up in South Africa without being able to explain what we’re doing. North is back there.’

I knew every exchange meant another few miles in the wrong direction.

With an air of disbelief, I was asked: ‘How do you know?’

I spent my early childhood years on my grandmother’s farm. I gave a farm-boy’s answer, with a matter-of-fact confidence:

‘The sun is behind us, we are heading south. In the northern hemisphere, the sun rises in the east, moves south, sets in the west. Here in the south, the sun rises in the east, moves to north, and sets in the west. We should be facing the sun if are heading north.’

The car screeched to a halt. Screeches of laughter broke out.

‘I always took you for a logical person,’ she said. ‘Are you telling me you still believe the sun moves around the earth. What’s even more ridiculous … two suns, one moving in one direction, and the other in another way?’

It must have been my look that won the day.

I agreed we could continue driving, and end up being arrested at the South African border late that night … if we ever got there through the desert. Or we could take my advice, just for an hour, and just see what the next town was.

She believed me, and she believed in me. And yes, we got to the mission station and the Angolan border in time that evening.

Knowing the way is not a matter of opinion. It is a matter of truth.

Christ is not just an opinion about how to get there. He is not one of many directions or signposts. He is not a map or a guidebook, or my idea of what might be a good direction to follow.

He is the way, the actual way.

Not the way back, to an imaginary idyll that never existed.

Not the way forward to an imaginary existence that is merely wish fulfilment.

But the Way, the Way into the Kingdom of God, the Way to live out the values of that Kingdom as we journey on in the pilgrimage, the Way to accept and experience the love of God, the Way to accept and experience love one for another.

In our Gospel reading this morning, Thomas says to Christ, ‘Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?’ And Christ says to him, ‘I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. If you know me, you will know my Father also. From now on you do know him and have seen him.’

So following Christ is not about guess work. He is the way.

So following Christ is not about opting for one opinion. He is the truth.

And following Christ is not ending up down a dead-end to nowhere. He is life itself.

This is why Christianity was first known as ‘The Way’ (της οδου). This name appears in the Acts of the Apostles (see Acts 9: 2, Acts 19: 9 and Acts 19: 23).

When we follow the way, when we are on the right track, we actually find that the way, the journey, the pilgrimage, has its own purpose.

The Greek poet Constantine Cavafy makes this point about life as the journey, the way, in his poem Ithaka.

Since Homer’s Odyssey, the Greek island of Ithaka in the Ionian Sea has symbolised the destination of a long journey, the supreme aim that everyone tries to fulfil in life, the sweet homeland, the eternal calmness and satisfaction.

In his poem, Cavafy takes the legendary journey of Odysseus as the journey we all make through life and suggests that each of us is looking for our own Ithaka. In the end, however, it is not the goal but the journey that matters, because this journey makes us wise and gives us the rich gifts of experience, knowledge and maturity:

Keep Ithaka always in your mind.
Arriving there is what you are destined for.
But do not hurry the journey at all.
Better if it lasts for years,
so you are old by the time you reach the island,
wealthy with all you have gained on the way,
not expecting Ithaka to make you rich.

Ithaka gave you the marvellous journey.
Without her you would not have set out.
She has nothing left to give you now.

And if you find her poor, Ithaka won’t have fooled you.
Wise as you will have become, so full of experience,
you will have understood by then what these Ithakas mean.

So, the way is not an opinion, it is not an option, it is not something to turn our back on. It brings its own rewards in the pilgrimage of life. Christ the Way, the Truth and the Life, brings us to accept, experience, and live the life that is accepting, experiencing and living the love of God, and accepting, experiencing and living love for one another.

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

‘See, I am laying in Zion a stone, a cornerstone chosen and precious’ (I Peter 2: 6) ... a cross carved into a stone in the Franciscan Friary in Askeaton, Co Limerick (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2017)

(Revd Canon Professor) Patrick Comerford is Priest-in-Charge, the Rathkeale and Kilnaughtin Group of Parishes. This sermon was prepared for Sunday 14 May 2017.

John 14: 1-14

1 Μὴ ταρασσέσθω ὑμῶν ἡ καρδία: πιστεύετε εἰς τὸν θεόν, καὶ εἰς ἐμὲ πιστεύετε. 2 ἐν τῇ οἰκίᾳ τοῦ πατρός μου μοναὶ πολλαί εἰσιν: εἰ δὲ μή, εἶπον ἂν ὑμῖν ὅτι πορεύομαι ἑτοιμάσαι τόπον ὑμῖν; 3 καὶ ἐὰν πορευθῶ καὶ ἑτοιμάσω τόπον ὑμῖν, πάλιν ἔρχομαι καὶ παραλήμψομαι ὑμᾶς πρὸς ἐμαυτόν, ἵνα ὅπου εἰμὶ ἐγὼ καὶ ὑμεῖς ἦτε. 4 καὶ ὅπου [ἐγὼ] ὑπάγω οἴδατε τὴν ὁδόν. 5 Λέγει αὐτῷ Θωμᾶς, Κύριε, οὐκ οἴδαμεν ποῦ ὑπάγεις: πῶς δυνάμεθα τὴν ὁδὸν εἰδέναι; 6 λέγει αὐτῷ [ὁ] Ἰησοῦς, Ἐγώ εἰμι ἡ ὁδὸς καὶ ἡ ἀλήθεια καὶ ἡ ζωή: οὐδεὶς ἔρχεται πρὸς τὸν πατέρα εἰ μὴ δι' ἐμοῦ. 7 εἰ ἐγνώκατέ με, καὶ τὸν πατέρα μου γνώσεσθε: καὶ ἀπ' ἄρτι γινώσκετε αὐτὸν καὶ ἑωράκατε αὐτόν.

8 λέγει αὐτῷ Φίλιππος, Κύριε, δεῖξον ἡμῖν τὸν πατέρα, καὶ ἀρκεῖ ἡμῖν. 9 λέγει αὐτῷ ὁ Ἰησοῦς, Τοσούτῳ χρόνῳ μεθ' ὑμῶν εἰμι καὶ οὐκ ἔγνωκάς με, Φίλιππε; ὁ ἑωρακὼς ἐμὲ ἑώρακεν τὸν πατέρα: πῶς σὺ λέγεις, Δεῖξον ἡμῖν τὸν πατέρα; 10 οὐ πιστεύεις ὅτι ἐγὼ ἐν τῷ πατρὶ καὶ ὁ πατὴρ ἐν ἐμοί ἐστιν; τὰ ῥήματα ἃ ἐγὼ λέγω ὑμῖν ἀπ' ἐμαυτοῦ οὐ λαλῶ: ὁ δὲ πατὴρ ἐν ἐμοὶ μένων ποιεῖ τὰ ἔργααὐτοῦ. 11 πιστεύετέ μοι ὅτι ἐγὼ ἐν τῷ πατρὶ καὶ ὁ πατὴρ ἐν ἐμοί: εἰ δὲ μή, διὰ τὰ ἔργα αὐτὰ πιστεύετε. 12 ἀμὴν ἀμὴν λέγω ὑμῖν, ὁ πιστεύων εἰς ἐμὲ τὰ ἔργα ἃ ἐγὼ ποιῶ κἀκεῖνοςποιήσει, καὶ μείζονα τούτων ποιήσει, ὅτι ἐγὼ πρὸς τὸν πατέρα πορεύομαι: 13 καὶ ὅ τι ἂν αἰτήσητε ἐν τῷ ὀνόματί μου τοῦτο ποιήσω, ἵνα δοξασθῇ ὁ πατὴρ ἐν τῷ υἱῷ: 14 ἐάν τιαἰτήσητέ με ἐν τῷ ὀνόματί μου ἐγὼ ποιήσω.

Translation (NRSV)

1 ‘Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me. 2 In my Father’s house there are many dwelling-places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? 3 And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also. 4 And you know the way to the place where I am going.’ 5 Thomas said to him, ‘Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?’ 6 Jesus said to him, ‘I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. 7 If you know me, you will know my Father also. From now on you do know him and have seen him.’

8 Philip said to him, ‘Lord, show us the Father, and we will be satisfied.’ 9 Jesus said to him, ‘Have I been with you all this time, Philip, and you still do not know me? Whoever has seen me has seen the Father. How can you say, “Show us the Father”? 10 Do you not believe that I am in the Father and the Father is in me? The words that I say to you I do not speak on my own; but the Father who dwells in me does his works. 11 Believe me that I am in the Father and the Father is in me; but if you do not, then believe me because of the works themselves. 12 Very truly, I tell you, the one who believes in me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these, because I am going to the Father. 13 I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son. 14 If in my name you ask me for anything, I will do it.

Collect:

Lord of all life and power,
who through the mighty resurrection of your Son
overcame the old order of sin and death
to make all things new in him:
Grant that we, being dead to sin
and alive to you in Jesus Christ,
may reign with him in glory;
to whom with you and the Holy Spirit
be praise and honour, glory and might,
now and in all eternity.

Post Communion Prayer:

Eternal God,
in word and sacrament
we proclaim your truth in Jesus Christ and share his life.
In his strength may we ever walk in his way,
who is alive and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.

Penelope waiting for Odysseus ... Μαριάννα Βαλλιάνου, Η επιστροφή, Mariánna Valliánou, ‘The Return’

Ιθάκη, Κωνσταντίνος Π. Καβάφης

Σα βγεις στον πηγαιμό για την Ιθάκη,
να εύχεσαι νάναι μακρύς ο δρόμος,
γεμάτος περιπέτειες, γεμάτος γνώσεις.
Τους Λαιστρυγόνας και τους Κύκλωπας,
τον θυμωμένο Ποσειδώνα μη φοβάσαι,
τέτοια στον δρόμο σου ποτέ σου δεν θα βρεις,
αν μέν’ η σκέψις σου υψηλή, αν εκλεκτή
συγκίνησις το πνεύμα και το σώμα σου αγγίζει.
Τους Λαιστρυγόνας και τους Κύκλωπας,
τον άγριο Ποσειδώνα δεν θα συναντήσεις,
αν δεν τους κουβανείς μες στην ψυχή σου,
αν η ψυχή σου δεν τους στήνει εμπρός σου.

Να εύχεσαι νάναι μακρύς ο δρόμος.
Πολλά τα καλοκαιρινά πρωιά να είναι
που με τι ευχαρίστησι, με τι χαρά
θα μπαίνεις σε λιμένας πρωτοειδωμένους
να σταματήσεις σ’ εμπορεία Φοινικικά,
και τες καλές πραγμάτειες ν’ αποκτήσεις,
σεντέφια και κοράλλια, κεχριμπάρια κ’ έβενους,
και ηδονικά μυρωδικά κάθε λογής,
όσο μπορείς πιο άφθονα ηδονικά μυρωδικά
σε πόλεις Aιγυπτιακές πολλές να πας,
να μάθεις και να μάθεις απ’ τους σπουδασμένους.

Πάντα στον νου σου νάχεις την Ιθάκη.
Το φθάσιμον εκεί είν’ ο προορισμός σου.
Aλλά μη βιάζεις το ταξείδι διόλου.
Καλλίτερα χρόνια πολλά να διαρκέσει
και γέρος πια ν’ αράξεις στο νησί,
πλούσιος με όσα κέρδισες στον δρόμο,
μη προσδοκώντας πλούτη να σε δώσει η Ιθάκη.

Η Ιθάκη σ’ έδωσε τ’ ωραίο ταξείδι.
Χωρίς αυτήν δεν θάβγαινες στον δρόμο.
Άλλα δεν έχει να σε δώσει πια.

Κι αν πτωχική την βρεις, η Ιθάκη δεν σε γέλασε.
Έτσι σοφός που έγινες, με τόση πείρα,
ήδη θα το κατάλαβες η Ιθάκες τι σημαίνουν

Ithaka, Constantine P. Cavafy

As you set out for Ithaka
hope the voyage is a long one,
full of adventure, full of discovery.
Laistrygonians and Cyclops,
angry Poseidon – don’t be afraid of them:
you’ll never find things like that on your way
as long as you keep your thoughts raised high,
as long as a rare excitement
stirs your spirit and your body.
Laistrygonians and Cyclops,
wild Poseidon – you won’t encounter them
unless you bring them along inside your soul,
unless your soul sets them up in front of you.

Hope the voyage is a long one.
May there be many a summer morning when,
with what pleasure, what joy,
you come into harbours seen for the first time;
may you stop at Phoenician trading stations
to buy fine things,
mother of pearl and coral, amber and ebony,
sensual perfume of every kind –
as many sensual perfumes as you can;
and may you visit many Egyptian cities
to gather stores of knowledge from their scholars.

Keep Ithaka always in your mind.
Arriving there is what you are destined for.
But do not hurry the journey at all.
Better if it lasts for years,
so you are old by the time you reach the island,
wealthy with all you have gained on the way,
not expecting Ithaka to make you rich.

Ithaka gave you the marvellous journey.
Without her you would not have set out.
She has nothing left to give you now.

And if you find her poor, Ithaka won’t have fooled you.
Wise as you will have become, so full of experience,
you will have understood by then what these Ithakas mean.

– Constantine Cavafy (translated by Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard)

A reminder of mission connections at a meeting of USPG in London

The classical-style gate lodge at the entrance to Townley Hall, where the Revd Willoughby William Townley Balfour was born (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2015)

Patrick Comerford

I spent a day earlier this week working in London, at a full-day meeting of the Trustees of the Anglican mission agency, USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel). At every meeting of trustees, we close by remembering in prayer people associated with USPG who have died since the previous meeting. This week, those we remembered at the end of the day included, of course, the Revd Dr Una Kroll, a former SPG missionary in Namibia, who died last month [6 January 2017], and the Revd Herbert Joseph Edwards, who died in Lichfield at the age of 87 at the end of last year [5 December 2016].

I first met Joe when he was a lecturer at Lichfield Theological College (1968-1971). Later, he was a USPG missionary in the Diocese of Mashonaland in Rhodesia, later Zimbabwe (1971-1980), and in the Diocese of Botswana (1974). I got to know him again in recent years in Lichfield where he lived in retirement in Saint John’s Hospital. We met occasionally in both Lichfield Cathedral, and he was always welcoming in Saint John’s Hospital. He died at Beechfields Nursing Home, Lichfield, and his memorial service was held at Christmastime in the Chapel of Saint John’s.

On the wall behind me in he board room throughout Wednesday’s meeting of USPG trustees were three large stained glass windows, moved from previous premises and depicting saintly SPG missionary pioneers of the past.

I am interested to note that one of predecessors in Askeaton had strongly family links with USPG when it was SPG (the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel) in the 19th century, and another predecessor in Kilnaughtin had been a missionary in Central America for two years and then spent years in Southern Africa as an SPG missionary for seven years.

The Revd Willoughby William Townley Balfour (1801-1888) was Vicar of Askeaton from 1833 to 1837. He was the second son of Blayney Townley-Balfour or Blayney Townley Balfour (1769–1856), who came from a long line of politicians, and who was MP for Belturbet when the Act of Union was passed in 1800. He owned a large flour mill outside Slane, Co Meath, and it was he who commissioned the architect Francis Johnston to rebuild Townley Hall, the family seat on the banks of the Boyne, between Drogheda and Slane.

Blayney Townley-Balfour married Florence Cole, and they had 10 children. Their eldest son, also Blayney Townley-Balfour (1799-1882), was Governor of the Bahamas from 1833 to 1835, while their second son was the Revd Willoughby William Townley Balfour. Willoughby was born in 1801 at Townley Hall, near Drogheda, Co Louth, and went to school at Harrow before entering Trinity College Dublin in 1819. He graduated BA in 1823 and was ordained deacon in 1829 and priest in 1832.

Willoughby Balfour became Vicar of Askeaton in May 1833, and held this post until 1837, when his successor was the Revd George Maxwell, who worked tirelessly and ceaselessly in the parish during the Great Famine.

Balfour became Vicar of Stone Flanville, Leicestershire, where he remained until 1878. When he retired, he returned to Ireland and died in Rostrevor, Co Down, on 29 June 1888.

His elder brother, Blayney Townley-Balfour (1799-1882), was Lieutenant Governor of the Bahamas (1833-1835). He too was born in Townley Hall, and later inherited the family home close to the banks of the Boyne. Townley Hall, is a magnificent Georgian mansion built in 1799 on a hilltop setting. Townley Hall is a masterpiece in the classical style of Francis Johnston, the foremost Irish architect of his day. Today it is surrounded by 60 acres of rolling parkland overlooking the Boyne Valley, close to the site of the Battle of the Boyne.

Sir John Betjeman, in a survey of the works of Francis Johnston wrote: ‘I have seen many Irish houses, but I know none at once so dignified, so restrained and so original as Francis Johnston’s Townley Hall.’

His first son, Blayney Reynell Townley Balfour, was born in Townley Hall near Drogheda, Co Louth, on 15 April 1845. But the family found the climate in the Bay of Naples was more amenable, and they moved to Sorrento, where their second son, Francis Richard Townley Balfour, was born ion 21 June 1846.

Like their uncle Willoughby, the two Balfour brothers went to school in Harrow, where their younger contemporaries included a future Archbishop of Canterbury, Randall Thomas Davidson (1848-1903), a future secretary of the the Anglican mission agency, the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel (SPG, now USPG), Bishop Henry Hutchinson Montgomery (1847-1932) from Co Donegal, the slum priest Father Robert Dolling (1851-1902) from Co Down, and a much younger Bishop Charles Gore (1853-1932), whose parents were from Ireland.

From Harrow, Francis Balfour went on to Trinity College Cambridge, graduating BA in 1869, and trained for ordination at Cuddesdon College, Oxford. In 1872, the year he received his MA from Cambridge, he was ordained deacon, and he was ordained priest in 1874 by the Bishop of Oxford.

He was the curate of Buckingham for three years until 1875, and then moved to Southern Africa as a missionary with SPG. He first worked in the Orange Free State, as a bishop’s chaplain, on the diamond diggings with the miners in Kimberley, lecturing in a theological college in Bloemfontein, and as a parish rector and cathedral canon. He then went to Mashonaland in Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe), where he built the first Anglican Church in Fort Salisbury (now Harare).

He later moved to Basutoland (present-day Lesotho), where he was the Director of the Mission of the Epiphany in Sekuba (1894-1898). Throughout all this time he preached in Sesotho and translated Bible and the Book of Common Prayer into Sesotho.

He regularly returned to Ireland when he was on leave, and when ill-health forced him to return home in 1900-1901, he acted as an honorary curate in All Saints’ Parish in Raheny, Dublin, where the rector, the Revd Francis Carlile Harper (1838-1931), was known for his missionary interests and was father-in-law of Herbert Packenham Walsh, the Irish missionary bishop in Assam.

In Raheny, he had a profound influence on the rector’s daughter, Dr Marie Elizabeth Hayes, who went to work with the Dublin University Mission in Chota Nagpur in 1905, and died as a medical missionary in Saint Stephen’s Hospital, Delhi, in 1908.

When Balfour returned to South Africa from Raheny in 1901 he became the Archdeacon of Bloemfontein (1901-1906) and then Archdeacon of Basutoland (1908-1922). When he was consecrated in Cape Town as an Assistant Bishop for the Diocese of Bloemfontein in 1911, he was effectively the first Anglican Bishop of Lesotho.

He was proud of his Irish identity and heritage, and there is a wonderful photograph of him from 1914 in a mitre and cope decorated in shamrocks and ‘Celtic’ designs.

When Balfour retired in 1923, there was no question of going back to Sorrento. He returned to Ireland, but died shortly afterwards in Shankill, Co Dublin, on 3 February 1924. He is buried in the grounds of Mellifont Abbey, Co Louth – the ruins of Mellifont had been owned by his family for generations.

The Revd James Napier Clarke (1870-1934),who was the curate of Kilnaughtin (Tarbert), Co Kerry), in 1905-1908 after serving with SPG in Southern Africa for about seven years. He was born in 1870, the son of the Revd Dr JW Clarke, and His father, grandfather, great-grandfather, uncle and great-uncle were priests in the Church of Ireland. He was educated at Rathmines School in Dublin.

Clarke was a missionary in the Diocese of Honduras (1896-1897) and in Belize (1897-1898), before going to Southern Africa with SPG in 1898. There he was a missionary in Kaffraria (1898-1905), where he worked as a chaplain in Saint John’s College, Kaffraria (1893-1903), Headmaster of Saint Cuthbert’s School, Tsolo (1904), and Rector of Port Saint John’s (1904-1905). When he returned to Ireland, he worked first as Curate of Kilnaughtin (1905-1908), and later worked in parishes in the dioceses of Ardfert, Ferns, Glendalough and Kildare until his death on 13 April 1934.

another SPG missionary in Southern Africa with connections with the Diocese of Ardfert and Aghadoe was Nurse Rosanna (Rose) Blennerhassett (ca 1840-1907). She was a daughter of Sir Arthur Blennerhassett (1794-1849) of Churchtown, near Killarney, Co Kerry. Her uncle and great-uncle were priests in the Church of Ireland, and her brother, Sir Rowland Blennerhassett (1839-1909), was MP for Galway and Co Kerry. She was a nurse with SPG in the Diocese of Mashonaland (1891-1893), and she was the co-author, with Lucy Sleeman, of Adventures in Mashonaland by two hospital nurses (London, Macmillan, 1893).

Which brings me back to Joe Edwards in Mashonaland and in Lichfield, and how glad I am that we remembered him in our prayers at this week’s meeting of USPG trustees in London.

Saint John’s Hospital, Lichfield … the Revd Joe Edwards lived here in his later years (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)