Saint Katherine’s Church, the Greek Orthodox Church in Friern Barnet, is surrounded by a large wooded churchyard (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Patrick Comerford
I spent a day recently visiting Saint Katherine’s Church, the Greek Orthodox Church in Friern Barnet, where the parish priest, Archimandrite Damianos Konstantinou
Introduced me to the church and the area around Friern Barnet, Finchley, Mill Hill and Golder’s Green. His parish has a large population of Greek Cypriots and Greek-speaking families.
Father Damian and I were introduced through a number of mutual friends, including the writer Richar Pine, a regular contributor to The Irish Times and founder of the Durrell School of Corfu, where I lectured in 2006, Euthymius Petrou in Athens and Father Gregory Wellington of the Greek Orthodox Church in Stony Stratford.
Over the day, our conversations ranged across a vast range of shared interests, from Sir Richard Church, Sir Charles Napier and the Irish Philhellenes and the folk music of Zakynthos to Epitaphios processions in Corfu, from the current crisis at Saint Katherine’s Monastery on Mount Sinai and the plight of the Greek Orthodox Patriarchate in Jerusalem, to Italian opera, the songs of Maria Farandouri and modern Greek poetry.
Inside Saint Katherine’s Church, facing towards the iconostasis, the altar and the east end (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Saint Katherine’s Greek Orthodox Church is picturesque country church in Friern Park that dates from 1853 and that was originally known as Saint James’s Church. The church stands on the corner of Friern Barnet Lane and Friary Road, on the main north-south road through the village. The church is surrounded by 20th century housing but retains its large wooded churchyard.
Friern Barnet was once a small, rural parish seven miles north of London. Its original name, Little Barnet, distinguished it from the larger part of Barnet that was in Hertfordshire.
The story of this church goes back 800 years to a time when there was a friary in the area serving pilgrims on their way to and from St Albans. The manor later called Friern Barnet or Whetstone seems to have been held by St Albans Abbey before the Conquest, but it was taken from that abbey by William I and apparently given to the Bishop of London.
Inside Saint Katherine’s Church, facing the west end from the iconostasis and the altar at the east end (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
A church was first mentioned in 1187, probably Saint James’s. By the late 12th century, the lands in Barnet were held by John Picot from the Bishop of London. By 1199, Bishop Gilbert Foliot or his successor Richard FitzNeal had given these lands to the Knights Hospitaller, following Picot’s surrender of them.
The name of Friern Barnet did not appear before 1294 and reflected the lordship of the Brotherhood of the Knights Hospitaller.
With the dissolution of the monastic houses and the Hospitallers in 1540 the manor of Friern Barnet passed to the Crown and then to Saint Paul’s Cathedral.
The 12th century Romanesque south doorway was restored and reset by the Habershon brothers (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
The original Norman church was a simple one with of a nave and chancel with a south porch and a wooden west tower. The church today consists of a chancel with a north vestry, a nave with south aisle, a porch and a tower with a shingled spire at the south-west. The exterior is of flint, with stone dressings. The Friern Barnet Parishioners War Memorial stands in the churchyard.
Today’s church owes its appearance to a major restoration and enlargement in 1853 by the brothers William Habershon (1819-1892) and Edward Habershon (1826-1900). The Habershon brothers specialised in neo-gothic buildings, especially churches and chapels. They increased the seating capacity of the church from 200 to 500 and reset the 12th century Romanesque south doorway – although it is heavily restored, many of the original stones survive.
The 1853 tower collapsed in 1930 and was rebuilt on the same plan.
An octagonal parish room, the Jubilee Hall, was added on the north side of the nave in 1977, and it is reached through the church by the north nave doorway.
The Jubilee Hall, an octagonal parish room, was added on the north side of the church in 1977 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Saint John the Evangelist Church on Friern Barnet Lane was built in 1910 as a chapel-of-ease to Saint James’s, which was no longer large enough for the expanding population.
Saint James’s continued to serve the parish until 2009, when Church of England services for Friern Barnet were transferred to Saint John’s Church on Friern Barnet Road and Saint James’s was leased to the local Greek Orthodox community, who renamed it Saint Katherine’s Church.
Saint Katherine’s Greek Orthodox Community was formally established in 1985, mainly through the efforts and energy of Katina Antoniou. Father Nicodemos Velalopoulos was the first priest, and services were held in a number of local Anglican churches until the parish found space in All Saints’ Church, Whetstone, in 1986.
A large and Greek and Greek Cypriot community have been based in Hendon since the 1960s, with a church and under the leadership of Bishop Aristarchos of Zenoupolis, and later served by Father Andrew Panayiotou from 1986.
An icon of Saint Katherine of Alexandria in Saint Katherine’s Church, Friern Barnet (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Six years after the church was founded, it moved in 1992 to Saint Mark’s Church in New Barnet. Father Damian, the Very Revd Archimandrite Damianos Konstantinou, was appointed priest-in-charge of the church 30 years ago in October 1995.
After studying journalism in Athens, he went to Saint Catherine’s Monastery on Mount Sinai, and was ordained in Jerusalem, where he served for 11 years in the Patriarchate, and has been a chaplain in the Greek army.
He has also studied theology in Athens, Italian language and culture in Perugia, and teacher training in Nottingham, and he has an MA in Religion and Politics from Saint Mary’s University, London. He has served the Greek Orthodox community in Aylesbury, and was chaplain to the Mayor of Barnet, Pantelitsa Rutte, in 2011-2012. He has a particular interest in the Irish Philhellenes, with a yearning to correct the name of the street in Athens named after Sir Richard Church from Cork.
Saint Katherine’s found a new home at Saint James the Great Church, Friern Barnet, in 2009 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Although at first his church services in the new parish were few, there were several community events and significant visits by Archbishop Damianos of Sinai in June 1996 and the late Patriarch Petros of Alexandria in September 1997. The choir of Saint George Karytsis Church in Athens visited in 2000, and sang at the feast day of Saint Catherine and at a millennium concert.
A plan to build a new church in 2004 was never realised. However, Saint Katherine’s found a new home in 2009 at Saint James the Great Church at Friern Barnet Lane. The congregation soon tripled in number and the Jubilee Hall began to host many events.
The hall was upgraded, and work on the church included repairs to the masonry, landscaping, roof cleaning, maintenance of the bell tower and other improvements.
The flame passed outside the church as it was carried through London on 26 July 2012, when the road was bedecked with Greek flags. This was followed by an Olympic Concert in the church.
Father Gregory Wellington was ordained deacon for the church in 2011 and priest in January 2014. He was there as deacon in 2011-2014 and as assistant priest in 2014-2023.
The church had a major renovation at the end of 2016 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
During a major renovation of the church from September 2016, the church found alternative accommodation for three months in All Saints’ Church, Whetstone.
More recently, the church was renovated internally, new lighting was installed along with new electrical installations, flooring and painting, all signs of hope for and an investment in the future of Saint Katherine’s.
When I visited Saint Katherine’s last Tuesday, the south porch was decorated joyfully with flags from Greece, Cyprus, Albania, Romania, the UK and other countries, representing the cultural diversity found in this Orthodox community.
Matins and the Divine Liturgy are celebrated in Saint Katherine’s Church, Friern Barnet, from 9:30 am on Sundays (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
• The services at Saint Katherine’s Church include Matins and Divine Liturgy on Sundays (9:30 am to 12 noon), on weekdays (9:30 to 11:15 am) and Vespers (Summer 7 pm, Winter 6 pm), with other services according to the Church calendar.
With Archimandrite Damianos Konstantinou (Father Damian) in Saint Katherine’s Church (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Showing posts with label Saint Katharine's. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Saint Katharine's. Show all posts
12 October 2025
Saint Katherine’s, a Greek Orthodox
community in Friern Barnet and how
it has found new life in an old church
Labels:
Alexandria,
Architecture,
Athens,
Aylesbury,
Barnet,
Church History,
Ecumenism,
Greece 2025,
Irish Philhellenes,
Local History,
London churches,
Mount Sinai,
Orthodoxy,
Saint Katharine's,
St Albans
22 July 2023
Daily prayers in Ordinary Time
with USPG: (55) 22 July 2023
Inside the Saint Editha’s Collegiate Church, Tamworth … where was the Holy Trinity Altar? (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2023)
Patrick Comerford
We are in Ordinary Time in the Church Calendar, and tomorrow is the Seventh Sunday after Trinity (23 July 2023).
Today, the Church Calendar remembers Saint Mary Magdalene.
Before this day begins, I am taking some time this morning for prayer, reading and reflection.
Over these weeks after Trinity Sunday, I have been reflecting each morning in these ways:
1, Looking at relevant images or stained glass windows in a church, chapel or cathedral I know;
2, the Gospel reading of the day in the Church of England lectionary;
3, a prayer from the USPG prayer diary.
The reredos above the High Altar in Saint Editha’s Church, Tamworth (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2023)
Holy Trinity Altar, Saint Editha’s Church, Tamworth:
As this series on cathedrals, churches and chapels dedicated to the Holy Trinity is coming to a close, I went in search of the mediaeval chapel or altar dedicated to the Holy Trinity in Saint Editha’s Collegiate Church, Tamworth.
Saint Editha’s is a Grade I listed building and the largest parish church in Staffordshire. It stands on a site where successive churches have stood since the eighth century.
The town and church were destroyed by fire in 1345, leading to the building of the fourth, present church, between 1350 and 1369 by Dean Baldwin de Witney.
Tradition says the College of Canons of Saint Editha was a royal foundation in the tenth century, but the date of foundation is not known. Although the right to appoint canons was disputed, by the 12th century all appointments were royal. There was a dean and six prebendaries or canons: the Dean held the prebend of Amington, and the other five canons held the prebends of Bonehill, Coton, Syerscote, Wigginton and Comberford, and Wilnecote.
The Tamworth historian Charles Ferrers Palmer, listed the altars and side chapels or chantry chapels in the mediaeval church:
1, The Altar of the Most Holy Trinity and Saint Editha in the Choir.
2, The Altar of the Blessed Virgin Mary at the east end of the South Aisle, perhaps in wooden parcloses.
3, The Altar of Saint George at the east end of Saint George’s Chapel, the Chantry Chapel.
4, The Altar of Saint Nicholas in the South Transept.
5, The Altar of Saint Katherine the Martyr in the North Transept, also known as the Comberford Chapel.
The Light of the Most Holy Trinity and the Lights of these Saints fell under the care of chief inhabitants of Tamworth who were elected yearly to the charge in autumn-tide at the great Court.
By the early 15th century, the college of canons lost many of its early benefactions, but the college and the chapels or altars received a steady trickle of gifts and bequests throughout the 15th and early 16th centuries. Most of these came from local people and, with few exceptions, consisted of small pieces of property in and around Tamworth or of small sums of money.
The will of John Comberford of Tamworth in 1414, for example, included bequests of 3 shillings to the high altar, 1 shilling 6 pence to the Holy Trinity altar, and 6 pence to each of the other altars.
The terms of John Comberford’s will would seem to indicate that the High Altar and the Holy Trinity altar were separate altars, but Palmer’s account assumes they were one and the same.
John Bate was the Dean of Saint Editha’s from 1436 until he died in 1479. At Bate’s request in 1446, Henry VI founded a chantry at the altar of the Holy Trinity and licensed Bate to found a chantry of Saint Editha and Saint Katherine at the altar of the Virgin.
A perpetual chantry was established in the church by letters patent dated 9 February 1446. The Dean was to appoint a chaplain who would celebrate Mass daily at the altar of the Holy Trinity for the peace of England and France, for the good estate of the king and his consort Margaret, and for the souls of the king’s father and mother, of his forefathers, and of all the faithful.
However, the royal grants were invalidated by the 1450 Act of Resumption and there seems to be no evidence that Bate’s chantry was ever established.
A common seal of the college cut under Dean Thomas Parker (1525-1538), reused a 15th-century matrix of and seems to represent some of the mediaeval altars, including a bishop in full robes with his right hand raised in blessing and holding a pastoral staff in his left (Saint Nicholas), Saint Katherine, crowned and holding her wheel in her right hand and a sword in her left; and a seated figure of the Virgin, crowned and holding the Christ Child on her right knee (the Lady Chapel).
The care of the lights of the Most Holy Trinity altar and the lights of the saints in the side altars and chapels was the responsibility of the chief inhabitants of the town who were elected yearly to the charge in autumn-tide at the great court.
These Wardens of the Lights took oaths to fulfil the duties of their office in gathering alms and taking the rents of the endowments for the purpose, so that they might trim their lamps and keep them always shining.
The last dean of Tamworth was Simon Symonds (1538-1548). The college was dissolved in 1548 with the dissolution of monastic houses and chantries during the Tudor Reformation, and the church became the parish church for the town of Tamworth.
The church was extensively restored by Benjamin Ferrey and George Gilbert Scott in the 1850s, and by William Butterfield ca 1871.
The late 19th century reredos above the High Altar was made in 1887-1893 by the Italian glass manufacturer Antonio Salviati (1816-1890) and the Salviati family firm of Venice, working with Sir George Gilbert Scott and John Birnie Philip. The five mosaic panels in the reredos commemorate five pre-Reformation altars in the church.
They depict (from left): Saint George with a flag and sword; Saint Nicholas, robed as a bishop and holding a ship, his symbol; the central figure of the Risen Christ, surrounded by the words Pax Vobis, perhaps representing the Blessed Trinity Altar and the High Altar; Saint Katherine, with the wheel of her martyrdom and a palm branch; and Saint Editha, holding her crozier as Abbess and a model of her church.
However, Palmer identified the Altar of the Most Holy Trinity and Saint Editha in the Choir as one altar, and there is no depiction in the reredos of the Virgin Mary to represent the altar in the Lady Chapel.
Stan T Parry’s short pamphlet available in the church bookshop, The History of St. Editha’s Parish Church Tamworth adds to the confusion, mistakenly saying the depiction of Saint Editha represents the Comberford Chapel, although Saint Katherine was always identified with the Comberford Chapel.
The care of the lights of the Most Holy Trinity altar and the lights of the saints in the side altars and chapels were the responsibility of Tamworth people elected each year (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2023)
John 20:1-2, 11-18 (NRSVA):
1 Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the tomb. 2 So she ran and went to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one whom Jesus loved, and said to them, ‘They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him.’
11 But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb; 12 and she saw two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had been lying, one at the head and the other at the feet. 13 They said to her, ‘Woman, why are you weeping?’ She said to them, ‘They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.’ 14 When she had said this, she turned round and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not know that it was Jesus. 15 Jesus said to her, ‘Woman, why are you weeping? For whom are you looking?’ Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, ‘Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.’ 16 Jesus said to her, ‘Mary!’ She turned and said to him in Hebrew, ‘Rabbouni!’ (which means Teacher). 17 Jesus said to her, ‘Do not hold on to me, because I have not yet ascended to the Father. But go to my brothers and say to them, “I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God”.’ 18 Mary Magdalene went and announced to the disciples, ‘I have seen the Lord’; and she told them that he had said these things to her.
The Comberford Chapel in Saint Editha’s Church … the mediaeval altar in the chapel was dedicated to Saint Katherine (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2023)
Today’s Prayer:
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), has been ‘Abundant life – A human right.’ This theme was introduced on Sunday.
The Prayer in the USPG Prayer Diary today (22 July 2023) invites us to pray in these words:
Let us reflect today that all human life belongs to God. We have been created in the image of God, crowned with dignity and honour.
Collect:
Almighty God,
whose Son restored Mary Magdalene
to health of mind and body
and called her to be a witness to his resurrection:
forgive our sins and heal us by your grace,
that we may serve you in the power of his risen life;
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.
Post Communion:
God of life and love,
whose risen Son called Mary Magdalene by name
and sent her to tell of his resurrection to his apostles:
in your mercy, help us,
who have been united with him in this eucharist,
to proclaim the good news
that he is alive and reigns, now and for ever.
Yesterday’s reflection
Continued tomorrow
The Saint Nicholas Chapel, now filled with the organ, and the Lady Chapel, on the south side of the church (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2023)
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
Inside Saint Editha’s Church, Tamworth … the mediaeval church had five altars and was served by a college of a dean and five prebendaries (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2023)
Patrick Comerford
We are in Ordinary Time in the Church Calendar, and tomorrow is the Seventh Sunday after Trinity (23 July 2023).
Today, the Church Calendar remembers Saint Mary Magdalene.
Before this day begins, I am taking some time this morning for prayer, reading and reflection.
Over these weeks after Trinity Sunday, I have been reflecting each morning in these ways:
1, Looking at relevant images or stained glass windows in a church, chapel or cathedral I know;
2, the Gospel reading of the day in the Church of England lectionary;
3, a prayer from the USPG prayer diary.
The reredos above the High Altar in Saint Editha’s Church, Tamworth (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2023)
Holy Trinity Altar, Saint Editha’s Church, Tamworth:
As this series on cathedrals, churches and chapels dedicated to the Holy Trinity is coming to a close, I went in search of the mediaeval chapel or altar dedicated to the Holy Trinity in Saint Editha’s Collegiate Church, Tamworth.
Saint Editha’s is a Grade I listed building and the largest parish church in Staffordshire. It stands on a site where successive churches have stood since the eighth century.
The town and church were destroyed by fire in 1345, leading to the building of the fourth, present church, between 1350 and 1369 by Dean Baldwin de Witney.
Tradition says the College of Canons of Saint Editha was a royal foundation in the tenth century, but the date of foundation is not known. Although the right to appoint canons was disputed, by the 12th century all appointments were royal. There was a dean and six prebendaries or canons: the Dean held the prebend of Amington, and the other five canons held the prebends of Bonehill, Coton, Syerscote, Wigginton and Comberford, and Wilnecote.
The Tamworth historian Charles Ferrers Palmer, listed the altars and side chapels or chantry chapels in the mediaeval church:
1, The Altar of the Most Holy Trinity and Saint Editha in the Choir.
2, The Altar of the Blessed Virgin Mary at the east end of the South Aisle, perhaps in wooden parcloses.
3, The Altar of Saint George at the east end of Saint George’s Chapel, the Chantry Chapel.
4, The Altar of Saint Nicholas in the South Transept.
5, The Altar of Saint Katherine the Martyr in the North Transept, also known as the Comberford Chapel.
The Light of the Most Holy Trinity and the Lights of these Saints fell under the care of chief inhabitants of Tamworth who were elected yearly to the charge in autumn-tide at the great Court.
By the early 15th century, the college of canons lost many of its early benefactions, but the college and the chapels or altars received a steady trickle of gifts and bequests throughout the 15th and early 16th centuries. Most of these came from local people and, with few exceptions, consisted of small pieces of property in and around Tamworth or of small sums of money.
The will of John Comberford of Tamworth in 1414, for example, included bequests of 3 shillings to the high altar, 1 shilling 6 pence to the Holy Trinity altar, and 6 pence to each of the other altars.
The terms of John Comberford’s will would seem to indicate that the High Altar and the Holy Trinity altar were separate altars, but Palmer’s account assumes they were one and the same.
John Bate was the Dean of Saint Editha’s from 1436 until he died in 1479. At Bate’s request in 1446, Henry VI founded a chantry at the altar of the Holy Trinity and licensed Bate to found a chantry of Saint Editha and Saint Katherine at the altar of the Virgin.
A perpetual chantry was established in the church by letters patent dated 9 February 1446. The Dean was to appoint a chaplain who would celebrate Mass daily at the altar of the Holy Trinity for the peace of England and France, for the good estate of the king and his consort Margaret, and for the souls of the king’s father and mother, of his forefathers, and of all the faithful.
However, the royal grants were invalidated by the 1450 Act of Resumption and there seems to be no evidence that Bate’s chantry was ever established.
A common seal of the college cut under Dean Thomas Parker (1525-1538), reused a 15th-century matrix of and seems to represent some of the mediaeval altars, including a bishop in full robes with his right hand raised in blessing and holding a pastoral staff in his left (Saint Nicholas), Saint Katherine, crowned and holding her wheel in her right hand and a sword in her left; and a seated figure of the Virgin, crowned and holding the Christ Child on her right knee (the Lady Chapel).
The care of the lights of the Most Holy Trinity altar and the lights of the saints in the side altars and chapels was the responsibility of the chief inhabitants of the town who were elected yearly to the charge in autumn-tide at the great court.
These Wardens of the Lights took oaths to fulfil the duties of their office in gathering alms and taking the rents of the endowments for the purpose, so that they might trim their lamps and keep them always shining.
The last dean of Tamworth was Simon Symonds (1538-1548). The college was dissolved in 1548 with the dissolution of monastic houses and chantries during the Tudor Reformation, and the church became the parish church for the town of Tamworth.
The church was extensively restored by Benjamin Ferrey and George Gilbert Scott in the 1850s, and by William Butterfield ca 1871.
The late 19th century reredos above the High Altar was made in 1887-1893 by the Italian glass manufacturer Antonio Salviati (1816-1890) and the Salviati family firm of Venice, working with Sir George Gilbert Scott and John Birnie Philip. The five mosaic panels in the reredos commemorate five pre-Reformation altars in the church.
They depict (from left): Saint George with a flag and sword; Saint Nicholas, robed as a bishop and holding a ship, his symbol; the central figure of the Risen Christ, surrounded by the words Pax Vobis, perhaps representing the Blessed Trinity Altar and the High Altar; Saint Katherine, with the wheel of her martyrdom and a palm branch; and Saint Editha, holding her crozier as Abbess and a model of her church.
However, Palmer identified the Altar of the Most Holy Trinity and Saint Editha in the Choir as one altar, and there is no depiction in the reredos of the Virgin Mary to represent the altar in the Lady Chapel.
Stan T Parry’s short pamphlet available in the church bookshop, The History of St. Editha’s Parish Church Tamworth adds to the confusion, mistakenly saying the depiction of Saint Editha represents the Comberford Chapel, although Saint Katherine was always identified with the Comberford Chapel.
The care of the lights of the Most Holy Trinity altar and the lights of the saints in the side altars and chapels were the responsibility of Tamworth people elected each year (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2023)
John 20:1-2, 11-18 (NRSVA):
1 Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the tomb. 2 So she ran and went to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one whom Jesus loved, and said to them, ‘They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him.’
11 But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb; 12 and she saw two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had been lying, one at the head and the other at the feet. 13 They said to her, ‘Woman, why are you weeping?’ She said to them, ‘They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.’ 14 When she had said this, she turned round and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not know that it was Jesus. 15 Jesus said to her, ‘Woman, why are you weeping? For whom are you looking?’ Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, ‘Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.’ 16 Jesus said to her, ‘Mary!’ She turned and said to him in Hebrew, ‘Rabbouni!’ (which means Teacher). 17 Jesus said to her, ‘Do not hold on to me, because I have not yet ascended to the Father. But go to my brothers and say to them, “I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God”.’ 18 Mary Magdalene went and announced to the disciples, ‘I have seen the Lord’; and she told them that he had said these things to her.
The Comberford Chapel in Saint Editha’s Church … the mediaeval altar in the chapel was dedicated to Saint Katherine (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2023)
Today’s Prayer:
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), has been ‘Abundant life – A human right.’ This theme was introduced on Sunday.
The Prayer in the USPG Prayer Diary today (22 July 2023) invites us to pray in these words:
Let us reflect today that all human life belongs to God. We have been created in the image of God, crowned with dignity and honour.
Collect:
Almighty God,
whose Son restored Mary Magdalene
to health of mind and body
and called her to be a witness to his resurrection:
forgive our sins and heal us by your grace,
that we may serve you in the power of his risen life;
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.
Post Communion:
God of life and love,
whose risen Son called Mary Magdalene by name
and sent her to tell of his resurrection to his apostles:
in your mercy, help us,
who have been united with him in this eucharist,
to proclaim the good news
that he is alive and reigns, now and for ever.
Yesterday’s reflection
Continued tomorrow
The Saint Nicholas Chapel, now filled with the organ, and the Lady Chapel, on the south side of the church (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2023)
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
Inside Saint Editha’s Church, Tamworth … the mediaeval church had five altars and was served by a college of a dean and five prebendaries (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2023)
20 May 2021
Praying in Lent and Easter 2021:
93, Royal Foundation of Saint Katharine
Inside the Chapel of the Royal Foundation of Saint Katharine in Limehouse in the East End of London (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Patrick Comerford
During the Season of Easter this year, I am continuing my theme from Lent, taking some time each morning to reflect in these ways:
1, photographs of a church or place of worship that has been significant in my spiritual life;
2, the day’s Gospel reading;
3, a prayer from the prayer diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel).
This week, we are in an ‘in-between week’, between Ascension Day and the Day of Pentecost. My photographs this week are from places I associate with the life of USPG. Earlier in this series, I introduced the Chapel in the USPG offices in Southwark and its stained glass windows (20 March 2021).
This morning (20 May 2021), my photographs are from the Royal Foundation of Saint Katharine’s in Limehouse, in the East End of London. I have stayed during residential meetings of trustees of USPG in November 2016 and in January 2018, and we had planned to meet there once again at the end of last year until the pandemic lockdown prevented this.
Saint Katharine’s stands at the East End crossroads connecting Stepney, Shadwell and Limehouse, close to the site of the old docks. It is just a few steps from Cable Street, the scene of a famous street battle 85 years ago between Oswald Moseley’s fascists and the East End communities who protected the local Jewish people against racist taunts and assaults on 4 October 1936.
The Royal Foundation of Saint Katharine’s dates back to 1147, when it was founded by Queen Matilda. Since then, this has been a centre for worship, hospitality and service for many centuries.
Originally known as Saint Katharine’s By The Tower, it has been a mediaeval church, hospital and centre of Saint Katharine’s precinct, a liberty housing over 2,000 people. It once had its own courts, prisons, factories and breweries and prisons.
Saint Katharine’s by the Tower – its full name was the Royal Hospital and Collegiate Church of Saint Katharine by the Tower – was a mediaeval church and hospital next to the Tower of London. The church was a royal peculiar and the precinct around it was an extra-parochial area, eventually becoming a civil parish that was dissolved in 1895.
Saint Katharine’s was founded in 1147 by Queen Matilda, the wife of King Stephen, in memory of two of her children, Baldwin and Matilda, who died in infancy and were buried in the Priory Church of Holy Trinity at Aldgate.
The endowment was increased by two Queens of England, Eleanor of Castile, who gave a gift of manors, and Philippa of Hainault. After a dispute over its control, Queen Eleanor granted a new charter in 1273, reserving the patronage of the Foundation to the Queens of England.
This was a religious community and mediaeval hospital for poor infirm people next to the Tower of London. The foundation included a Master, six ‘poor clerks’ or priests, three brethren, three sisters and a beadswoman. Unusually for that time, the brothers and sisters had equal rights.
Its status as a Liberty and the fact it was personally owned and protected by the Queen Mother, saved Saint Katharine’s at the dissolution of the monastic houses at the Reformation.
Commercial pressure for larger docks up-river led to Saint Katharine’s, with its 14th and 15th century buildings and some 3,000 inhabitants, being demolished in 1825 to provide a dock close to the heart of the City. The land was excavated and flooded to form a new dock. This was the smallest of London’s docks and was named Saint Katharine Docks.
The institution now called the Royal Foundation of Saint Katharine’s moved to Regent’s Park, where it took the form of almshouses, and continued for 125 years.
After World War II, Saint Katharine’s moved back to its spiritual home in the East End in 1948, and moved onto the site in Limehouse of Saint James’s Church, Ratcliff, which had been destroyed in the Blitz.
The foundation was housed in the Georgian vicarage and over time a new complex has grown up around it, carefully built to preserve the sense of an oasis in the city.
In Limehouse, Saint Katharine’s became a retreat house with Father St John Groser, the revolutionary Anglo-Catholic slum priest, as Master. A decade earlier, he had played a significant role in the defence of Cable Street in 1936. He was joined by members of the Community of the Resurrection from Mirfield in providing worship and service in the area, and the foundation remained under the care of the Community of the Resurrection for 45 years until 1993.
The chapel was built in 1951 on the site of the bombed parish church of Saint James’s, Ratcliffe. But the 1950s were a period of austerity, and the chapel was dark with small windows and a central altar that limited its capacity and its flexibility for worship.
In 2004, Saint Katharine’s modernised and expanded its facilities to include a retreat and conference centre, so making available its hospitality more widely within the Church of England and to other churches, charities, voluntary and public sector bodies and to associated individuals.
The chapel was refurbished in 2004 by the architect Jonathan Dinewell. He transformed the chapel successfully with larger windows, relocating the choir stalls, moving the altar to the east under a Saint Katharine’s wheel rose window, and introducing some of the foundation’s historic monuments into the chapel. His restoration led to a much lighter and brighter interior, with its large windows and enhanced sense of peace.
At each side of the doors leading into the chapel are statues of Queen Philippa (left) and King Edward III (right). The glazed entry doors came from Andrew Pynter’s chapel built in 1828 when Saint Katharine’s moved to Regent’s Park.
Above the door are carved 17th century panels with putti, the side ones making music and singing.
The Altar in Welsh slate was designed by Keith Murray and carved with inscriptions from Roman catacombs by Ralph Bayer. The inscription on the altar facing into the chapel reads: ‘Behold I lay in Sion a chief cornerstone, elect, precious / and he that believeth on him shall not be confounded’ (I Peter 2: 6).
The reredos above the altar is a remarkable relief of the Adoration of the Magi, which was moved out of the Cloister in 2004 and restored. The imagery is similar to a painting from the 1470s by Benevenuto di Giovanni in the National Gallery in London. Above the reredos, an east window was installed in 2004 depicting the wheel on which Saint Katharine was tortured before her martyrdom.
In front of the Altar, in the centre of the floor of the chapel, a Compass Rose was laid in 2004 with a circle of granite brought back from Saint Catherine’s Monastery on the slopes of Mount Sinai, the world’s oldest Christian monastery (see 3 April 2021).
The eight arms of the compass denote the seven days of creation and the day of the Resurrection, and point to the corners of the earth, calling us to ‘Go, proclaim the Gospel to all nations.’ The ring encircling the compass is inscribed with words of Saint Augustine of Hippo: ‘We do not come to God by navigation but by love.’
The richly carved choir stalls came from the mediaeval Church of Saint Katharine by the Tower. They are outstanding examples of 14th century wood-carving but, alas, are only a fragment of the 24 stalls that survived until the 18th century. All these stalls have misericords with delightfully lively figures.
The oak panels around the chapel are decorated with the coats of arms of some of the Masters of Saint Katharines’s from the 15th to the 19th century. The hexagonal pulpit has marquetry panels of domes and spired churches. It was once believed that this pulpit was a gift of former master Sir Julius Caesar, but recent studies suggest that it is an 18th century work based on earlier designs.
High on the west wall of the chapel hangs a crucifix carved by Michael Groser, son of the first post-war Master, Father St John Groser.
The entrance to the chapel with statues of Queen Philippa, left, and King Edward III, right (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
John 17: 20-26 (NRSVA):
[Jesus said:] 20 ‘I ask not only on behalf of these, but also on behalf of those who will believe in me through their word, 21 that they may all be one. As you, Father, are in me and I am in you, may they also be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me. 22 The glory that you have given me I have given them, so that they may be one, as we are one, 23 I in them and you in me, that they may become completely one, so that the world may know that you have sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me. 24 Father, I desire that those also, whom you have given me, may be with me where I am, to see my glory, which you have given me because you loved me before the foundation of the world.
25 ‘Righteous Father, the world does not know you, but I know you; and these know that you have sent me. 26 I made your name known to them, and I will make it known, so that the love with which you have loved me may be in them, and I in them.’
The Altar in the chapel designed by Keith Murray with the reredos above (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Prayer in the USPG Prayer Diary:
The Prayer in the USPG Prayer Diary today (20 May 2021) invites us to pray:
Let us pray for innovative ways in which to share the Gospel during a pandemic. May we use this crisis as an opportunity to spread the Word.
Yesterday’s reflection
Continued tomorrow
The Master’s stall among the choir stalls in the chapel (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
A carved relief of Saint Katharine on the north wall of the chapel (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Patrick Comerford
During the Season of Easter this year, I am continuing my theme from Lent, taking some time each morning to reflect in these ways:
1, photographs of a church or place of worship that has been significant in my spiritual life;
2, the day’s Gospel reading;
3, a prayer from the prayer diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel).
This week, we are in an ‘in-between week’, between Ascension Day and the Day of Pentecost. My photographs this week are from places I associate with the life of USPG. Earlier in this series, I introduced the Chapel in the USPG offices in Southwark and its stained glass windows (20 March 2021).
This morning (20 May 2021), my photographs are from the Royal Foundation of Saint Katharine’s in Limehouse, in the East End of London. I have stayed during residential meetings of trustees of USPG in November 2016 and in January 2018, and we had planned to meet there once again at the end of last year until the pandemic lockdown prevented this.
Saint Katharine’s stands at the East End crossroads connecting Stepney, Shadwell and Limehouse, close to the site of the old docks. It is just a few steps from Cable Street, the scene of a famous street battle 85 years ago between Oswald Moseley’s fascists and the East End communities who protected the local Jewish people against racist taunts and assaults on 4 October 1936.
The Royal Foundation of Saint Katharine’s dates back to 1147, when it was founded by Queen Matilda. Since then, this has been a centre for worship, hospitality and service for many centuries.
Originally known as Saint Katharine’s By The Tower, it has been a mediaeval church, hospital and centre of Saint Katharine’s precinct, a liberty housing over 2,000 people. It once had its own courts, prisons, factories and breweries and prisons.
Saint Katharine’s by the Tower – its full name was the Royal Hospital and Collegiate Church of Saint Katharine by the Tower – was a mediaeval church and hospital next to the Tower of London. The church was a royal peculiar and the precinct around it was an extra-parochial area, eventually becoming a civil parish that was dissolved in 1895.
Saint Katharine’s was founded in 1147 by Queen Matilda, the wife of King Stephen, in memory of two of her children, Baldwin and Matilda, who died in infancy and were buried in the Priory Church of Holy Trinity at Aldgate.
The endowment was increased by two Queens of England, Eleanor of Castile, who gave a gift of manors, and Philippa of Hainault. After a dispute over its control, Queen Eleanor granted a new charter in 1273, reserving the patronage of the Foundation to the Queens of England.
This was a religious community and mediaeval hospital for poor infirm people next to the Tower of London. The foundation included a Master, six ‘poor clerks’ or priests, three brethren, three sisters and a beadswoman. Unusually for that time, the brothers and sisters had equal rights.
Its status as a Liberty and the fact it was personally owned and protected by the Queen Mother, saved Saint Katharine’s at the dissolution of the monastic houses at the Reformation.
Commercial pressure for larger docks up-river led to Saint Katharine’s, with its 14th and 15th century buildings and some 3,000 inhabitants, being demolished in 1825 to provide a dock close to the heart of the City. The land was excavated and flooded to form a new dock. This was the smallest of London’s docks and was named Saint Katharine Docks.
The institution now called the Royal Foundation of Saint Katharine’s moved to Regent’s Park, where it took the form of almshouses, and continued for 125 years.
After World War II, Saint Katharine’s moved back to its spiritual home in the East End in 1948, and moved onto the site in Limehouse of Saint James’s Church, Ratcliff, which had been destroyed in the Blitz.
The foundation was housed in the Georgian vicarage and over time a new complex has grown up around it, carefully built to preserve the sense of an oasis in the city.
In Limehouse, Saint Katharine’s became a retreat house with Father St John Groser, the revolutionary Anglo-Catholic slum priest, as Master. A decade earlier, he had played a significant role in the defence of Cable Street in 1936. He was joined by members of the Community of the Resurrection from Mirfield in providing worship and service in the area, and the foundation remained under the care of the Community of the Resurrection for 45 years until 1993.
The chapel was built in 1951 on the site of the bombed parish church of Saint James’s, Ratcliffe. But the 1950s were a period of austerity, and the chapel was dark with small windows and a central altar that limited its capacity and its flexibility for worship.
In 2004, Saint Katharine’s modernised and expanded its facilities to include a retreat and conference centre, so making available its hospitality more widely within the Church of England and to other churches, charities, voluntary and public sector bodies and to associated individuals.
The chapel was refurbished in 2004 by the architect Jonathan Dinewell. He transformed the chapel successfully with larger windows, relocating the choir stalls, moving the altar to the east under a Saint Katharine’s wheel rose window, and introducing some of the foundation’s historic monuments into the chapel. His restoration led to a much lighter and brighter interior, with its large windows and enhanced sense of peace.
At each side of the doors leading into the chapel are statues of Queen Philippa (left) and King Edward III (right). The glazed entry doors came from Andrew Pynter’s chapel built in 1828 when Saint Katharine’s moved to Regent’s Park.
Above the door are carved 17th century panels with putti, the side ones making music and singing.
The Altar in Welsh slate was designed by Keith Murray and carved with inscriptions from Roman catacombs by Ralph Bayer. The inscription on the altar facing into the chapel reads: ‘Behold I lay in Sion a chief cornerstone, elect, precious / and he that believeth on him shall not be confounded’ (I Peter 2: 6).
The reredos above the altar is a remarkable relief of the Adoration of the Magi, which was moved out of the Cloister in 2004 and restored. The imagery is similar to a painting from the 1470s by Benevenuto di Giovanni in the National Gallery in London. Above the reredos, an east window was installed in 2004 depicting the wheel on which Saint Katharine was tortured before her martyrdom.
In front of the Altar, in the centre of the floor of the chapel, a Compass Rose was laid in 2004 with a circle of granite brought back from Saint Catherine’s Monastery on the slopes of Mount Sinai, the world’s oldest Christian monastery (see 3 April 2021).
The eight arms of the compass denote the seven days of creation and the day of the Resurrection, and point to the corners of the earth, calling us to ‘Go, proclaim the Gospel to all nations.’ The ring encircling the compass is inscribed with words of Saint Augustine of Hippo: ‘We do not come to God by navigation but by love.’
The richly carved choir stalls came from the mediaeval Church of Saint Katharine by the Tower. They are outstanding examples of 14th century wood-carving but, alas, are only a fragment of the 24 stalls that survived until the 18th century. All these stalls have misericords with delightfully lively figures.
The oak panels around the chapel are decorated with the coats of arms of some of the Masters of Saint Katharines’s from the 15th to the 19th century. The hexagonal pulpit has marquetry panels of domes and spired churches. It was once believed that this pulpit was a gift of former master Sir Julius Caesar, but recent studies suggest that it is an 18th century work based on earlier designs.
High on the west wall of the chapel hangs a crucifix carved by Michael Groser, son of the first post-war Master, Father St John Groser.
The entrance to the chapel with statues of Queen Philippa, left, and King Edward III, right (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
John 17: 20-26 (NRSVA):
[Jesus said:] 20 ‘I ask not only on behalf of these, but also on behalf of those who will believe in me through their word, 21 that they may all be one. As you, Father, are in me and I am in you, may they also be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me. 22 The glory that you have given me I have given them, so that they may be one, as we are one, 23 I in them and you in me, that they may become completely one, so that the world may know that you have sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me. 24 Father, I desire that those also, whom you have given me, may be with me where I am, to see my glory, which you have given me because you loved me before the foundation of the world.
25 ‘Righteous Father, the world does not know you, but I know you; and these know that you have sent me. 26 I made your name known to them, and I will make it known, so that the love with which you have loved me may be in them, and I in them.’
The Altar in the chapel designed by Keith Murray with the reredos above (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Prayer in the USPG Prayer Diary:
The Prayer in the USPG Prayer Diary today (20 May 2021) invites us to pray:
Let us pray for innovative ways in which to share the Gospel during a pandemic. May we use this crisis as an opportunity to spread the Word.
Yesterday’s reflection
Continued tomorrow
The Master’s stall among the choir stalls in the chapel (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
A carved relief of Saint Katharine on the north wall of the chapel (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
19 November 2020
Praying together, laughing
together, and listening to
one another as USPG trustees
Autumn turns to winter in the grounds of the Royal Foundation of Saint Katharine … the planned venue for this week’s meeting of USPG trustees (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Patrick Comerford
Meetings of trustees or boards are the same everywhere.
They include budgets and spreadsheets, evaluations and re-evaluation, forward planning, business plans, organisation and structures, vision and strategy, position papers …
There are people who like this sort of meeting, but others find them a turn-off and speak of ‘bored meetings.’
But it is never so at meetings of the trustees of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel).
For these two days (18-19 November 2020), I have been shut away from the rest of the world at a meeting of USPG trustees in London – albeit a ‘virtual meeting’ hosted by Zoom while I have been locked away in a room in the Rectory in Askeaton, Co Limerick.
What makes USPG trustees’ meetings different, of course, is that, even in these pandemic lockdown days, our work is all about relationships within and across the Anglican Communion and about journeying with partner churches as critical but supportive friends.
We prayed together, we listened together to challenging Gospel passages, we laughed together, and we shared hopes together.
Without breaking any confidences on my part, we heard news about progress on the Communion Wide Advisory Group, bringing together work on all continents, about global relations, about work with Hope for the Future on climate change, about theological education, about next year’s Lent course, ‘For such a Time as This,’ and mission engagement. In particular, we heard from the Revd Davidson Solanki on the work of the Church in Bangladesh and the Church in the Middle East.
Davidson’s story, and his recent ordination, are among the many interesting features in the latest edition of Koinonia, the USPG magazine.
One member of the Senior Management Group shared these wise words from Rabindranath Tagore:
Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high;
Where knowledge is free;
Where the world has not been broken up into fragments by narrow domestic walls;
Where words come out from the depth of truth;
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection;
Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way into the dreary desert sand of dead habit;
Where the mind is led forward by thee into ever-widening thought and action
Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake.
We were reminded too that today in the calendar of the Church of England celebrates Saint Hilda of Whitby, who played a key role in the Synod of Whitby and in facilitating Church unity on these islands.
Looking forward to the future also means giving thanks for the past. And before our meeting closed this afternoon, we gave thanks in prayer for the lives of a number of people associated with the life of USPG and who died recently, including Janet Cousins, a former USPG missionary in Ethiopia, Ruth Capeling, a former USPG missionary in Zambia, Dr Sally Amos, who worked in a hospital in Zambia, and the Ven Frederick George, a former USPG missionary in Australia, Gambia and St Helena.
But I still miss the one-to-one, face-to-face contacts that are so important at meetings like this, although they never feature on the agenda.
It is over eight months since I was physically present at a meeting of USPG trustees in London last March. This week’s residential meeting ought to have taken place at the Royal Foundation Saint Katharine in Limehouse, but, like this year’s planned conference in Swanwick, Covid-19 put an end to those plans.
We are due to meet again as trustees on 10 March and 12 May 2021, Hopefully, the pandemic travel restrictions can be eased soon, and that I can attend meetings of trustees in London next year, and USPG’s annual conference, planned for 19 to 21 July 2021.
The Hayes Conference Centre at Swanwick in Derbyshire … the planned venue for the USPG conference earlier this year (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Patrick Comerford
Meetings of trustees or boards are the same everywhere.
They include budgets and spreadsheets, evaluations and re-evaluation, forward planning, business plans, organisation and structures, vision and strategy, position papers …
There are people who like this sort of meeting, but others find them a turn-off and speak of ‘bored meetings.’
But it is never so at meetings of the trustees of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel).
For these two days (18-19 November 2020), I have been shut away from the rest of the world at a meeting of USPG trustees in London – albeit a ‘virtual meeting’ hosted by Zoom while I have been locked away in a room in the Rectory in Askeaton, Co Limerick.
What makes USPG trustees’ meetings different, of course, is that, even in these pandemic lockdown days, our work is all about relationships within and across the Anglican Communion and about journeying with partner churches as critical but supportive friends.
We prayed together, we listened together to challenging Gospel passages, we laughed together, and we shared hopes together.
Without breaking any confidences on my part, we heard news about progress on the Communion Wide Advisory Group, bringing together work on all continents, about global relations, about work with Hope for the Future on climate change, about theological education, about next year’s Lent course, ‘For such a Time as This,’ and mission engagement. In particular, we heard from the Revd Davidson Solanki on the work of the Church in Bangladesh and the Church in the Middle East.
Davidson’s story, and his recent ordination, are among the many interesting features in the latest edition of Koinonia, the USPG magazine.
One member of the Senior Management Group shared these wise words from Rabindranath Tagore:
Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high;
Where knowledge is free;
Where the world has not been broken up into fragments by narrow domestic walls;
Where words come out from the depth of truth;
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection;
Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way into the dreary desert sand of dead habit;
Where the mind is led forward by thee into ever-widening thought and action
Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake.
We were reminded too that today in the calendar of the Church of England celebrates Saint Hilda of Whitby, who played a key role in the Synod of Whitby and in facilitating Church unity on these islands.
Looking forward to the future also means giving thanks for the past. And before our meeting closed this afternoon, we gave thanks in prayer for the lives of a number of people associated with the life of USPG and who died recently, including Janet Cousins, a former USPG missionary in Ethiopia, Ruth Capeling, a former USPG missionary in Zambia, Dr Sally Amos, who worked in a hospital in Zambia, and the Ven Frederick George, a former USPG missionary in Australia, Gambia and St Helena.
But I still miss the one-to-one, face-to-face contacts that are so important at meetings like this, although they never feature on the agenda.
It is over eight months since I was physically present at a meeting of USPG trustees in London last March. This week’s residential meeting ought to have taken place at the Royal Foundation Saint Katharine in Limehouse, but, like this year’s planned conference in Swanwick, Covid-19 put an end to those plans.
We are due to meet again as trustees on 10 March and 12 May 2021, Hopefully, the pandemic travel restrictions can be eased soon, and that I can attend meetings of trustees in London next year, and USPG’s annual conference, planned for 19 to 21 July 2021.
The Hayes Conference Centre at Swanwick in Derbyshire … the planned venue for the USPG conference earlier this year (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
11 July 2019
There is something peculiar
about a number of churches
The Royal Foundation of St Katharine … a new Master has been appointed (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Patrick Comerford
The Venerable Roger Preece, Archdeacon of St Helens and Warrington, in the Diocese of Liverpool, has been appointed as Master of the Royal Foundation of St Katharine in Limehouse, in the East End of London. Archdeacon Preece succeeds the Revd Mark Aitken, who retires at the end of next month [31 August 2019] after seven years as Master.
The announcement of this new appointment was made earlier today by the Court of the Royal Foundation of St Katharine and by the chair of the court, the Revd John Tattersall. Because Saint Katharine’s is a royal peculiar, the appointment is made by the Crown.
Saint Katharine’s is in a strategic position at Limehouse, between Canary Wharf and the City of London. It is embarking on a major development of part of its site including a significant extension of its retreat and conference business and the establishment of a resident community.
I have visited Saint Katharine’s twice in the past two years or so, taking part in meetings of trustees of the Anglican mission agency, USPG (United Society, Partners in the Gospel).
The Royal Foundation of St Katharine was established in 1147 as a hospice, and has a fascinating 872-year history. Today, the foundation operates a Retreat House and Conference Centre.
This is one of 14 Royal Peculiars, churches, chapels and communities of which the Queen is Patron. But what is a Royal Peculiar?
The Queen’s Chapel at Saint James’s Palace … one of the 14 Royal Peculiars (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
In canon law, a ‘peculiar’ is an ecclesiastical district, parish, chapel or church that is outside the jurisdiction of the bishop and archdeacon of the diocese in which it is geographically located. They include the separate or ‘peculiar’ jurisdiction of the monarch, another archbishop, bishop or the dean and chapter of a cathedral. In the past they also included churches associated with the Knights Templar and the Knights Hospitaller.
So, an Archbishop’s Peculiar is subject to the direct jurisdiction of an archbishop and a Royal Peculiar is subject to the direct jurisdiction of the monarch.
The concept dates from Anglo-Saxon times, and most peculiars survived the Reformation. But, with the exception of Royal Peculiars, were finally abolished in the 19th century by various Acts of Parliament and became subject to diocesan jurisdiction, although a few non-royal peculiars still exist.
Westminster Abbey is probably the best known Royal Peculiar in London (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
The majority of Royal Peculiars that remain are within the Diocese of London. There, the best known is probably Westminster Abbey.
The other Royal Peculiars in London include the two royal chapels at Saint James’s Palace, the Queen’s Chapel and the Chapel Royal; two royal chapels at the Tower of London, Saint John the Evangelist and Saint Peter ad Vincula; as well as the Queen’s Chapel of the Savoy, the Chapel of Saint Mary Undercroft at the Palace of Westminster or Houses of Parliament, the Temple Church near Fleet Street, and the Royal Foundation of St Katharine.
The Chapel Royal at Hampton Court is in Surrey, in Richmond, about 20 km south-west of central London.
Saint Michael’s Collegiate Church in Penkridge … stood outside the jurisdiction of the Diocese of Lichfield (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
The four Royal Peculiars outside London include two chapels at Windsor, Saint George’s and All Saints; the Church of Saint Edward, King and Martyr, in Cambridge; and the Chapel Royal at Holyrood in Edinburgh.
Former royal peculiars include Saint Michael’s Collegiate Church in Penkridge – although it was also a peculiar of the Archbishop of Dublin within the Diocese of Lichfield – and Saint Mary’s Church, Stafford, both in Staffordshire.
But there are also non-royal peculiars, including Saint Mary-le-Bow, which is in London geographically but legally in the Diocese of Canterbury, and two chapels of the Inns of Court, Lincoln’s Inn Chapel and Gray’s Inn Chapel.
The Chapel Royal at Dublin Castle … ceased being the Chapel Royal in 1922 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
There have been at least three Chapels Royal in Dublin, as far as I can identify today. The Chapel Royal in Dublin Castle was the official chapel of the Household of the Lord Lieutenant of Ireland from 1814 until the creation of the Irish Free State in 1922.
The last Dean of the Chapel Royal in Dublin was Canon Charles William O’Hara Mease (1913-1922), who died in 1922. In 1943, the Chapel was consecrated by Archbishop John Charles McQuaid as a Roman Catholic military church, and in 1944 was renamed the Church of the Most Holy Trinity. The Chapel Royal was closed in the early 1980s. It was restored and reopened in the early 1990s, although it has not since been used for worship.
The second chapel royal in Dublin was Christ Church Cathedral, which for centuries served as the Chapel Royal until the Chapel Royal was built in Dublin Castle. Charles I had designated the cathedral ‘our chapel royal’ and there maintained Anglican rites and ceremonies. James II continued to recognise it as ‘our chapell royal’ and in the period 1688-1689 used it for Roman Catholic liturgies.
However, as a cathedral, Christ Church remained within diocesan jurisdiction and could not be regarded as a ‘royal peculiar.’
For a time, Saint Werburgh’s Church in Werburgh Street was the Viceroy, who had a private pew in the gallery under the organ. But I do not think it was ever a chapel royal and it was never a royal peculiar.
The third former Chapel Royal in Dublin is Saint Matthew’s Church, Irishtown. It was founded by Act of Parliament in 1703, built in 1707 on a site given by Thomas Fitzwilliam, Earl of Merrion, and was licensed by Letters Patent in 1723 as the ‘Royal Chapel of Saint Matthew of Ringsend.’
As a royal chapel, the king appointed the chaplain, who was paid from the customs revenue of the port of Dublin. This arrangement continued until the disestablishment of the Church in Ireland in 1871, when it became an independent parish. The original church was demolished in 1878-1879 and rebuilt by the architect James Franklin Fuller.
The Royal Foundation of St Katharine can be visited at www.rfsk.org.uk
Saint Mary-le-Bow is in London geographically … but canonically in the Diocese of Canterbury (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Patrick Comerford
The Venerable Roger Preece, Archdeacon of St Helens and Warrington, in the Diocese of Liverpool, has been appointed as Master of the Royal Foundation of St Katharine in Limehouse, in the East End of London. Archdeacon Preece succeeds the Revd Mark Aitken, who retires at the end of next month [31 August 2019] after seven years as Master.
The announcement of this new appointment was made earlier today by the Court of the Royal Foundation of St Katharine and by the chair of the court, the Revd John Tattersall. Because Saint Katharine’s is a royal peculiar, the appointment is made by the Crown.
Saint Katharine’s is in a strategic position at Limehouse, between Canary Wharf and the City of London. It is embarking on a major development of part of its site including a significant extension of its retreat and conference business and the establishment of a resident community.
I have visited Saint Katharine’s twice in the past two years or so, taking part in meetings of trustees of the Anglican mission agency, USPG (United Society, Partners in the Gospel).
The Royal Foundation of St Katharine was established in 1147 as a hospice, and has a fascinating 872-year history. Today, the foundation operates a Retreat House and Conference Centre.
This is one of 14 Royal Peculiars, churches, chapels and communities of which the Queen is Patron. But what is a Royal Peculiar?
The Queen’s Chapel at Saint James’s Palace … one of the 14 Royal Peculiars (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
In canon law, a ‘peculiar’ is an ecclesiastical district, parish, chapel or church that is outside the jurisdiction of the bishop and archdeacon of the diocese in which it is geographically located. They include the separate or ‘peculiar’ jurisdiction of the monarch, another archbishop, bishop or the dean and chapter of a cathedral. In the past they also included churches associated with the Knights Templar and the Knights Hospitaller.
So, an Archbishop’s Peculiar is subject to the direct jurisdiction of an archbishop and a Royal Peculiar is subject to the direct jurisdiction of the monarch.
The concept dates from Anglo-Saxon times, and most peculiars survived the Reformation. But, with the exception of Royal Peculiars, were finally abolished in the 19th century by various Acts of Parliament and became subject to diocesan jurisdiction, although a few non-royal peculiars still exist.
Westminster Abbey is probably the best known Royal Peculiar in London (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
The majority of Royal Peculiars that remain are within the Diocese of London. There, the best known is probably Westminster Abbey.
The other Royal Peculiars in London include the two royal chapels at Saint James’s Palace, the Queen’s Chapel and the Chapel Royal; two royal chapels at the Tower of London, Saint John the Evangelist and Saint Peter ad Vincula; as well as the Queen’s Chapel of the Savoy, the Chapel of Saint Mary Undercroft at the Palace of Westminster or Houses of Parliament, the Temple Church near Fleet Street, and the Royal Foundation of St Katharine.
The Chapel Royal at Hampton Court is in Surrey, in Richmond, about 20 km south-west of central London.
Saint Michael’s Collegiate Church in Penkridge … stood outside the jurisdiction of the Diocese of Lichfield (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
The four Royal Peculiars outside London include two chapels at Windsor, Saint George’s and All Saints; the Church of Saint Edward, King and Martyr, in Cambridge; and the Chapel Royal at Holyrood in Edinburgh.
Former royal peculiars include Saint Michael’s Collegiate Church in Penkridge – although it was also a peculiar of the Archbishop of Dublin within the Diocese of Lichfield – and Saint Mary’s Church, Stafford, both in Staffordshire.
But there are also non-royal peculiars, including Saint Mary-le-Bow, which is in London geographically but legally in the Diocese of Canterbury, and two chapels of the Inns of Court, Lincoln’s Inn Chapel and Gray’s Inn Chapel.
The Chapel Royal at Dublin Castle … ceased being the Chapel Royal in 1922 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
There have been at least three Chapels Royal in Dublin, as far as I can identify today. The Chapel Royal in Dublin Castle was the official chapel of the Household of the Lord Lieutenant of Ireland from 1814 until the creation of the Irish Free State in 1922.
The last Dean of the Chapel Royal in Dublin was Canon Charles William O’Hara Mease (1913-1922), who died in 1922. In 1943, the Chapel was consecrated by Archbishop John Charles McQuaid as a Roman Catholic military church, and in 1944 was renamed the Church of the Most Holy Trinity. The Chapel Royal was closed in the early 1980s. It was restored and reopened in the early 1990s, although it has not since been used for worship.
The second chapel royal in Dublin was Christ Church Cathedral, which for centuries served as the Chapel Royal until the Chapel Royal was built in Dublin Castle. Charles I had designated the cathedral ‘our chapel royal’ and there maintained Anglican rites and ceremonies. James II continued to recognise it as ‘our chapell royal’ and in the period 1688-1689 used it for Roman Catholic liturgies.
However, as a cathedral, Christ Church remained within diocesan jurisdiction and could not be regarded as a ‘royal peculiar.’
For a time, Saint Werburgh’s Church in Werburgh Street was the Viceroy, who had a private pew in the gallery under the organ. But I do not think it was ever a chapel royal and it was never a royal peculiar.
The third former Chapel Royal in Dublin is Saint Matthew’s Church, Irishtown. It was founded by Act of Parliament in 1703, built in 1707 on a site given by Thomas Fitzwilliam, Earl of Merrion, and was licensed by Letters Patent in 1723 as the ‘Royal Chapel of Saint Matthew of Ringsend.’
As a royal chapel, the king appointed the chaplain, who was paid from the customs revenue of the port of Dublin. This arrangement continued until the disestablishment of the Church in Ireland in 1871, when it became an independent parish. The original church was demolished in 1878-1879 and rebuilt by the architect James Franklin Fuller.
The Royal Foundation of St Katharine can be visited at www.rfsk.org.uk
Saint Mary-le-Bow is in London geographically … but canonically in the Diocese of Canterbury (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
10 December 2017
Waiting for ‘a day to astonish
us, reduce us to silence
and bring us to our knees’
Saint John the Baptist and the Prophet Isaiah … a window in Saint John’s Church, Wall (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2017)
Patrick Comerford
Sunday 10 December 2017,
The Second Sunday of Advent.
11.30 a.m.: Holy Trinity Church, Rathkeale, Co Limerick, Morning Prayer.
Readings: Isaiah 40: 1-11; Psalm 85: 1-2, 8-13; II Peter 3: 8-15a; Mark 1: 1-8.
Part 1: Lighting the Second Candle on the Advent Wreath (the Prophets):
Last week, I explained in Askeaton and in Tarbert that on each Sunday in Advent, instead of preaching one long sermon, I’m going to offer three short reflections: looking at the Advent Wreath and Candles; looking at the Gospel reading and our hopes for the Coming of Christ; and looking at the meaning of Santa Claus.
In Year B in the Lectionary readings, we are focussing on Saint Mark’s Gospel.
Last Sunday, we heard his account of the Coming of the Son of Man (Mark 13: 24-37). This morning, we return to the beginning of this Gospel (Mark 1: 1-8).
While Saint John’s Gospel begins at the beginning of Creation (‘In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was God,’ John 1: 1), Saint Mark, unlike Saint Matthew or Saint Luke, has no Nativity narrative, has no story of the first Christmas (see Matthew 1: 18 to 2: 23; Luke 1: 1 to 2: 40).
Saint Mark begins his Gospel with his account of the Baptism of Christ by Saint John in the River Jordan, which comes later in the other three Gospels (see Matthew 3: 1-17; Luke 3: 1-21; John 1: 19-34).
Indeed, there is no Christmas story in Saint Mark’s Gospel. Instead, the theme for the readings this morning is the Prophets, and then next Sunday [17 December, Advent III), we look at Saint John the Baptist, who in his own way is the last in the line of the Prophets, the bridge between the Prophets and Christ.
The prayers at the Advent Wreath on the Sundays in Advent can help us to continue our themes from the Sunday before Advent [26 November 2017], which we marked in these dioceses as Mission Sunday, supporting projects in Swaziland in co-operation with the Anglican mission agency, the United Society Partners in the Gospel (USPG).
As we light our Advent candles in anticipation of celebrating the coming of the Christ child, USPG is inviting churches and parishes to pray for mothers and children who are served by USPG in the world church in Tanzania, Ghana, Bangladesh and Palestine.
The first candle to light on the Advent Wreath on the First Sunday of Advent was the Purple Candle, recalling the Patriarchs and Matriarchs, our fathers and mothers in faith, like Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Jacob. The purple second candle, which we light this Sunday, represents the Prophets.
USPG suggests this prayer when we light the second candle:
The Prophets:
O God of history,
who has spoken through the prophets;
we pray for mothers in Ghana
who have learned to protect their children from cholera.
Bless those who bring life-saving knowledge
and bless families whose children are now healthy and full of life.
A stained-glass window in the Chapel of Jesus College, Cambridge, designed by Edward Burne-Jones and made by William Morris, depicting four Old Testament prophets (from left): Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel and Daniel
Part 2: Waiting for Christ
May I speak to you in the name of God, + Father, Son and Holy Spirit Amen.
Our Old Testament reading (Isaiah 40: 1-11) is familiar to many of us because of the opening words of Handel’s Messiah. The promise of the Prophets is central to our understanding of waiting and hope in the weeks of Advent, the weeks immediately before Christmas.
In the Psalm (Psalm 85: 1-2, 8-13), we also hear God’s promise that he will bless the people with peace and steadfast love, which shall be the visible signs of God’s presence and power (verses 8-13).
In the Epistle reading (II Peter 3: 8-15a), Saint Peter, by now at the end of his life, leaves an assurance of the fulfilment of God’s promises.
Now, in the Gospel reading (Mark 1: 1-8), the story of the Baptism of Christ gives us the first revelation of the Trinity to the creation in the New Testament. It is like the story of a new creation. God’s promises, expressed by the Prophets and the Psalmists, are being fulfilled.
But rather than retell those stories, as my commentary on our readings and as the second part of my sermon this morning, I want to read a letter I received a few days ago in an email from another Mark, the Revd Mark Aitken, Master of the Royal Foundation of Saint Katharine in Limehouse, in the East End of London.
In his letter, he sums up a modern interpretation of the hope that was expressed in the past by the Prophets:
It is very strange that the time of the year which should be greeted with awe, wonder and bated breath; a time which should be focused on the kind of quiet that we hold so a baby won’t wake, is actually greeted with crackers, the loud singing of carols and noisy parties.
In the middle of winter, in a time of political uncertainty, and with many people living under all kinds of pressure, a reason to be cheerful should be grasped with both hands.
A season of goodwill and glad tidings feels very necessary.
However, what if there were more than just an excuse for a midwinter party going on here?
What if Christmas Day could be a day to astonish us and fill us with wonder, cut through our chatter, reduce us to silence and possibly bring us to our knees?
It could be in church, or as you sense the overwhelming love offered to you in a thoughtfully chosen present, or just in a stolen, quiet moment in the middle of a party, that your thoughts will turn to that child born in a dark stable, in the middle of the night all those years ago.
You might even catch your breath, feeling a deep longing inside you, and sense the gentle hint that this child will have something to say to you when he grows up.
Santa in the window of a café in Bird Street, Lichfield, a few days ago (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2017)
Part 3: Waiting for Santa Claus
Last Wednesday, we recalled the real Santa Claus, Saint Nicholas, during our mid-week Advent Eucharist in Saint Mary’s Church, Askeaton, and last Sunday I spoke a little about Saint Nicholas and his willingness to go to Alexandria, where God sent him, as a real example among the saints of how life is a pilgrimage, an Advent, that looks forward to the coming of Christ and his Kingdom.
That funny hat that Santa Claus wears is derived from the mitre that Saint Nicholas wore as Bishop of Myra.
Saint Nicholas’s election as bishop was unusual. After the former bishop died, other bishops gathered to elect the next Bishop of Myra. As they met, the wisest bishop heard a voice in the night telling him to watch the doors of the church the next morning at Matins. The first person to enter named Nicholas was to be the new bishop.
The wise one told the others, asking them to be at prayer while he waited at the doors. When the hour came, the first to arrive was the young man who had just arrived back from Alexandria.
When asked his name, he replied, ‘I am Nicholas.’
The bishop said to him: ‘Nicholas, servant and friend of God, for your holiness you shall be bishop of this place.’ They brought him into the church and placed him in the bishop’s throne where he was to be consecrated the new Bishop of Myra.
Myra suffered famine in the years 311, 312, and 333. The crops failed, and the people were hungry. Bishop Nicholas learned that ships bound for Alexandria with cargoes of wheat had anchored in the harbour.
The bishop implored the sailors to take a measure of grain from each ship so that the people would have food.
The sailors said ‘No’ as the wheat was ‘meted and measured’ and every bit must be delivered.
Nicholas replied: ‘Do this, and I promise, in the truth of God, that it shall not be lessened or diminished when you get to your destination.’
So, the sailors took a measure from each ship and continued on to Alexandria. When the wheat was unloaded, the full amount was accounted for. When the tale was told, the emperor’s ministers all worshiped and praised God with thanksgiving for his servant Nicholas.
Throughout the famine people came to Bishop Nicholas for wheat. He gave it to all who had need, and the grain lasted for two years, with enough remaining to plant new crops.
It’s a story that can remind us of Christ feeding the multitude with five loaves and two fish. But it also points to the generosity of Christ giving himself to us in the Eucharist or Holy Communion, and to the generosity of God in sending us the most wonderful gift of Christ at Christmas-time and the promises of the generosity and blessings of the Kingdom of God.
And so, may all we think, say and do be to the praise, honour and glory of God, + Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.
The Organ Trophy and a carving depicting 17 musical instruments in Saint Michan’s Church, Dublin ... the church is associated with Handel’s ‘Messiah’ (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Penitential Kyries:
Turn to us again, O God our Saviour,
and let your anger cease from us.
Lord, have mercy.
Lord, have mercy.
Show us your mercy, O Lord,
and grant us your salvation.
Christ, have mercy.
Christ, have mercy.
Your salvation is near for those that fear you,
that glory may dwell in our land.
Lord, have mercy.
Lord, have mercy.
Collect:
Father in heaven,
who sent your Son to redeem the world
and will send him again to be our judge:
Give us grace so to imitate him
in the humility and purity of his first coming
that when he comes again,
we may be ready to greet him with joyful love and firm faith;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.
The Advent Collect:
This collect is said after the Collect of the day until Christmas Eve:
Almighty God,
Give us grace to cast away the works of darkness
and to put on the armour of light
now in the time of this mortal life
in which your Son Jesus Christ came to us in great humility;
that on the last day
when he shall come again in his glorious majesty
to judge the living and the dead,
we may rise to the life immortal;
through him who is alive and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.
Introduction to the Peace:
In the tender mercy of our God,
the dayspring from on high shall break upon us,
to give light to those who dwell in darkness
and in the shadow of death,
and to guide our feet into the way of peace. (Luke 1: 78, 79)
Blessing:
Christ the sun of righteousness shine upon you,
gladden your hearts
and scatter the darkness from before you:
(Revd Canon Professor) Patrick Comerford is Priest-in-Charge, the Rathkeale and Kilnaughtin Group of Parishes. This sermon was prepared for the Second Sunday of Advent, 10 December 2017.
Patrick Comerford
Sunday 10 December 2017,
The Second Sunday of Advent.
11.30 a.m.: Holy Trinity Church, Rathkeale, Co Limerick, Morning Prayer.
Readings: Isaiah 40: 1-11; Psalm 85: 1-2, 8-13; II Peter 3: 8-15a; Mark 1: 1-8.
Part 1: Lighting the Second Candle on the Advent Wreath (the Prophets):
Last week, I explained in Askeaton and in Tarbert that on each Sunday in Advent, instead of preaching one long sermon, I’m going to offer three short reflections: looking at the Advent Wreath and Candles; looking at the Gospel reading and our hopes for the Coming of Christ; and looking at the meaning of Santa Claus.
In Year B in the Lectionary readings, we are focussing on Saint Mark’s Gospel.
Last Sunday, we heard his account of the Coming of the Son of Man (Mark 13: 24-37). This morning, we return to the beginning of this Gospel (Mark 1: 1-8).
While Saint John’s Gospel begins at the beginning of Creation (‘In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was God,’ John 1: 1), Saint Mark, unlike Saint Matthew or Saint Luke, has no Nativity narrative, has no story of the first Christmas (see Matthew 1: 18 to 2: 23; Luke 1: 1 to 2: 40).
Saint Mark begins his Gospel with his account of the Baptism of Christ by Saint John in the River Jordan, which comes later in the other three Gospels (see Matthew 3: 1-17; Luke 3: 1-21; John 1: 19-34).
Indeed, there is no Christmas story in Saint Mark’s Gospel. Instead, the theme for the readings this morning is the Prophets, and then next Sunday [17 December, Advent III), we look at Saint John the Baptist, who in his own way is the last in the line of the Prophets, the bridge between the Prophets and Christ.
The prayers at the Advent Wreath on the Sundays in Advent can help us to continue our themes from the Sunday before Advent [26 November 2017], which we marked in these dioceses as Mission Sunday, supporting projects in Swaziland in co-operation with the Anglican mission agency, the United Society Partners in the Gospel (USPG).
As we light our Advent candles in anticipation of celebrating the coming of the Christ child, USPG is inviting churches and parishes to pray for mothers and children who are served by USPG in the world church in Tanzania, Ghana, Bangladesh and Palestine.
The first candle to light on the Advent Wreath on the First Sunday of Advent was the Purple Candle, recalling the Patriarchs and Matriarchs, our fathers and mothers in faith, like Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Jacob. The purple second candle, which we light this Sunday, represents the Prophets.
USPG suggests this prayer when we light the second candle:
The Prophets:
O God of history,
who has spoken through the prophets;
we pray for mothers in Ghana
who have learned to protect their children from cholera.
Bless those who bring life-saving knowledge
and bless families whose children are now healthy and full of life.
A stained-glass window in the Chapel of Jesus College, Cambridge, designed by Edward Burne-Jones and made by William Morris, depicting four Old Testament prophets (from left): Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel and Daniel
Part 2: Waiting for Christ
May I speak to you in the name of God, + Father, Son and Holy Spirit Amen.
Our Old Testament reading (Isaiah 40: 1-11) is familiar to many of us because of the opening words of Handel’s Messiah. The promise of the Prophets is central to our understanding of waiting and hope in the weeks of Advent, the weeks immediately before Christmas.
In the Psalm (Psalm 85: 1-2, 8-13), we also hear God’s promise that he will bless the people with peace and steadfast love, which shall be the visible signs of God’s presence and power (verses 8-13).
In the Epistle reading (II Peter 3: 8-15a), Saint Peter, by now at the end of his life, leaves an assurance of the fulfilment of God’s promises.
Now, in the Gospel reading (Mark 1: 1-8), the story of the Baptism of Christ gives us the first revelation of the Trinity to the creation in the New Testament. It is like the story of a new creation. God’s promises, expressed by the Prophets and the Psalmists, are being fulfilled.
But rather than retell those stories, as my commentary on our readings and as the second part of my sermon this morning, I want to read a letter I received a few days ago in an email from another Mark, the Revd Mark Aitken, Master of the Royal Foundation of Saint Katharine in Limehouse, in the East End of London.
In his letter, he sums up a modern interpretation of the hope that was expressed in the past by the Prophets:
It is very strange that the time of the year which should be greeted with awe, wonder and bated breath; a time which should be focused on the kind of quiet that we hold so a baby won’t wake, is actually greeted with crackers, the loud singing of carols and noisy parties.
In the middle of winter, in a time of political uncertainty, and with many people living under all kinds of pressure, a reason to be cheerful should be grasped with both hands.
A season of goodwill and glad tidings feels very necessary.
However, what if there were more than just an excuse for a midwinter party going on here?
What if Christmas Day could be a day to astonish us and fill us with wonder, cut through our chatter, reduce us to silence and possibly bring us to our knees?
It could be in church, or as you sense the overwhelming love offered to you in a thoughtfully chosen present, or just in a stolen, quiet moment in the middle of a party, that your thoughts will turn to that child born in a dark stable, in the middle of the night all those years ago.
You might even catch your breath, feeling a deep longing inside you, and sense the gentle hint that this child will have something to say to you when he grows up.
Santa in the window of a café in Bird Street, Lichfield, a few days ago (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2017)
Part 3: Waiting for Santa Claus
Last Wednesday, we recalled the real Santa Claus, Saint Nicholas, during our mid-week Advent Eucharist in Saint Mary’s Church, Askeaton, and last Sunday I spoke a little about Saint Nicholas and his willingness to go to Alexandria, where God sent him, as a real example among the saints of how life is a pilgrimage, an Advent, that looks forward to the coming of Christ and his Kingdom.
That funny hat that Santa Claus wears is derived from the mitre that Saint Nicholas wore as Bishop of Myra.
Saint Nicholas’s election as bishop was unusual. After the former bishop died, other bishops gathered to elect the next Bishop of Myra. As they met, the wisest bishop heard a voice in the night telling him to watch the doors of the church the next morning at Matins. The first person to enter named Nicholas was to be the new bishop.
The wise one told the others, asking them to be at prayer while he waited at the doors. When the hour came, the first to arrive was the young man who had just arrived back from Alexandria.
When asked his name, he replied, ‘I am Nicholas.’
The bishop said to him: ‘Nicholas, servant and friend of God, for your holiness you shall be bishop of this place.’ They brought him into the church and placed him in the bishop’s throne where he was to be consecrated the new Bishop of Myra.
Myra suffered famine in the years 311, 312, and 333. The crops failed, and the people were hungry. Bishop Nicholas learned that ships bound for Alexandria with cargoes of wheat had anchored in the harbour.
The bishop implored the sailors to take a measure of grain from each ship so that the people would have food.
The sailors said ‘No’ as the wheat was ‘meted and measured’ and every bit must be delivered.
Nicholas replied: ‘Do this, and I promise, in the truth of God, that it shall not be lessened or diminished when you get to your destination.’
So, the sailors took a measure from each ship and continued on to Alexandria. When the wheat was unloaded, the full amount was accounted for. When the tale was told, the emperor’s ministers all worshiped and praised God with thanksgiving for his servant Nicholas.
Throughout the famine people came to Bishop Nicholas for wheat. He gave it to all who had need, and the grain lasted for two years, with enough remaining to plant new crops.
It’s a story that can remind us of Christ feeding the multitude with five loaves and two fish. But it also points to the generosity of Christ giving himself to us in the Eucharist or Holy Communion, and to the generosity of God in sending us the most wonderful gift of Christ at Christmas-time and the promises of the generosity and blessings of the Kingdom of God.
And so, may all we think, say and do be to the praise, honour and glory of God, + Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.
The Organ Trophy and a carving depicting 17 musical instruments in Saint Michan’s Church, Dublin ... the church is associated with Handel’s ‘Messiah’ (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Penitential Kyries:
Turn to us again, O God our Saviour,
and let your anger cease from us.
Lord, have mercy.
Lord, have mercy.
Show us your mercy, O Lord,
and grant us your salvation.
Christ, have mercy.
Christ, have mercy.
Your salvation is near for those that fear you,
that glory may dwell in our land.
Lord, have mercy.
Lord, have mercy.
Collect:
Father in heaven,
who sent your Son to redeem the world
and will send him again to be our judge:
Give us grace so to imitate him
in the humility and purity of his first coming
that when he comes again,
we may be ready to greet him with joyful love and firm faith;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.
The Advent Collect:
This collect is said after the Collect of the day until Christmas Eve:
Almighty God,
Give us grace to cast away the works of darkness
and to put on the armour of light
now in the time of this mortal life
in which your Son Jesus Christ came to us in great humility;
that on the last day
when he shall come again in his glorious majesty
to judge the living and the dead,
we may rise to the life immortal;
through him who is alive and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.
Introduction to the Peace:
In the tender mercy of our God,
the dayspring from on high shall break upon us,
to give light to those who dwell in darkness
and in the shadow of death,
and to guide our feet into the way of peace. (Luke 1: 78, 79)
Blessing:
Christ the sun of righteousness shine upon you,
gladden your hearts
and scatter the darkness from before you:
(Revd Canon Professor) Patrick Comerford is Priest-in-Charge, the Rathkeale and Kilnaughtin Group of Parishes. This sermon was prepared for the Second Sunday of Advent, 10 December 2017.
Labels:
Advent 2017,
Cambridge,
Christmas 2017,
Isaiah,
Lichfield,
Mission,
Prophets,
Rathkeale,
Saint John the Baptist,
Saint Katharine's,
Saint Mark's Gospel,
Saint Michan's,
Sermons 2017,
USPG,
Wall
Waiting with the prophets for
the promised coming of Christ
A stained-glass window in the Chapel of Jesus College, Cambridge, designed by Edward Burne-Jones and made by William Morris, depicting four Old Testament prophets (from left): Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel and Daniel
Patrick Comerford
Sunday 10 December 2017,
The Second Sunday of Advent.
9.30 a.m.: Castletown Church, Kilcornan, Co Limerick, The Parish Eucharist (Holy Communion).
Readings: Isaiah 40: 1-11; Psalm 85: 1-2, 8-13; II Peter 3: 8-15a; Mark 1: 1-8.
Part 1: Lighting the Second Candle on the Advent Wreath (the Prophets):
Last week, I explained in Askeaton and in Tarbert that on each Sunday in Advent, instead of preaching one long sermon, I’m going to offer three short reflections: looking at the Advent Wreath and Candles; looking at the Gospel reading and our hopes for the Coming of Christ; and looking at the meaning of Santa Claus.
In Year B in the Lectionary readings, we are focussing on Saint Mark’s Gospel.
Last Sunday, we heard his account of the Coming of the Son of Man (Mark 13: 24-37). This morning, we return to the beginning of this Gospel (Mark 1: 1-8).
While Saint John’s Gospel begins at the beginning of Creation (‘In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was God,’ John 1: 1), Saint Mark, unlike Saint Matthew or Saint Luke, has no Nativity narrative, has no story of the first Christmas (see Matthew 1: 18 to 2: 23; Luke 1: 1 to 2: 40).
Saint Mark begins his Gospel with his account of the Baptism of Christ by Saint John in the River Jordan, which comes later in the other three Gospels (see Matthew 3: 1-17; Luke 3: 1-21; John 1: 19-34).
Indeed, there is no Christmas story in Saint Mark’s Gospel. Instead, the theme for the readings this morning is the Prophets, and then next Sunday, [17 December, Advent III), we look at Saint John the Baptist, who in his own way is the last in the line of the Prophets, the bridge between the Prophets and Christ.
The prayers at the Advent Wreath on the Sundays in Advent can help us to continue our themes from the Sunday before Advent [26 November 2017], which we marked in these dioceses as Mission Sunday, supporting projects in Swaziland in co-operation with the Anglican mission agency, the United Society Partners in the Gospel (USPG).
As we light our Advent candles in anticipation of celebrating the coming of the Christ child, USPG is inviting churches and parishes to pray for mothers and children who are served by the USPG in the world church in Tanzania, Ghana, Bangladesh and Palestine.
The first candle to light on the Advent Wreath on the First Sunday of Advent was the Purple Candle, recalling the Patriarchs and Matriarchs, our fathers and mothers in the faith, like Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Jacob. The purple second candle, which we light this Sunday, represents the Prophets.
USPG suggests this prayer when we light the second candle:
The Prophets:
O God of history,
who has spoken through the prophets;
we pray for mothers in Ghana
who have learned to protect their children from cholera.
Bless those who bring life-saving knowledge
and bless families whose children are now healthy and full of life.
Saint John the Baptist and the Prophet Isaiah … a window in Saint John’s Church, Wall (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2017)
Part 2: Waiting for Christ
May I speak to you in the name of God, + Father, Son and Holy Spirit Amen.
Our Old Testament reading (Isaiah 40: 1-11) is familiar to many of us because of the opening words of Handel’s Messiah. The promise of the Prophets is central to our understanding of waiting and hope in the weeks of Advent, the weeks immediately before Christmas.
In the Psalm (Psalm 85: 1-2, 8-13), we also hear God’s promise that he will bless the people with peace and steadfast love, which shall be the visible signs of God’s presence and power (verses 8-13).
In the Epistle reading (II Peter 3: 8-15a), Saint Peter, by now at the end of his life, leaves an assurance of the fulfilment of God’s promises.
Now, in the Gospel reading (Mark 1: 1-8), the story of the Baptism of Christ gives us the first revelation of the Trinity to the creation in the New Testament. It is like the story of a new creation. God’s promises, expressed by the Prophets and the Psalmists, are being fulfilled.
But rather than retell those stories, as my commentary on our readings and as the second part of my sermon this morning, I want to read a letter I received a few days ago in an email from another Mark, the Revd Mark Aitken, Master of the Royal Foundation of Saint Katharine in Limehouse, in the East End of London.
In his letter, he sums up a modern interpretation of the hope that was expressed in the past by the Prophets:
It is very strange that the time of the year which should be greeted with awe, wonder and bated breath; a time which should be focused on the kind of quiet that we hold so a baby won’t wake, is actually greeted with crackers, the loud singing of carols and noisy parties.
In the middle of winter, in a time of political uncertainty, and with many people living under all kinds of pressure, a reason to be cheerful should be grasped with both hands.
A season of goodwill and glad tidings feels very necessary.
However, what if there were more than just an excuse for a midwinter party going on here?
What if Christmas Day could be a day to astonish us and fill us with wonder, cut through our chatter, reduce us to silence and possibly bring us to our knees?
It could be in church, or as you sense the overwhelming love offered to you in a thoughtfully chosen present, or just in a stolen, quiet moment in the middle of a party, that your thoughts will turn to that child born in a dark stable, in the middle of the night all those years ago.
You might even catch your breath, feeling a deep longing inside you, and sense the gentle hint that this child will have something to say to you when he grows up.
Santa in the window of a café in Bird Street, Lichfield, a few days ago (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2017)
Part 3: Waiting for Santa Claus
Last Wednesday, we recalled the real Santa Claus, Saint Nicholas, during our mid-week Advent Eucharist in Saint Mary’s Church, Askeaton, and last Sunday I spoke a little about Saint Nicholas and his willingness to go to Alexandria, where God sent him as a real example among the saints of how life is a pilgrimage, an Advent, that looks forward to the coming of Christ and his Kingdom.
That funny hat that Santa Claus wears is derived from the mitre that Saint Nicholas wore as Bishop of Myra.
Saint Nicholas’s election as bishop was unusual. After the former bishop died, other bishops gathered to elect the next Bishop of Myra. As they met, the wisest bishop heard a voice in the night telling him to watch the doors of the church the next morning at Matins. The first person to enter named Nicholas was to be the new bishop.
The wise one told the others, asking them to be at prayer while he waited at the doors. When the hour came, the first to arrive was the young man who had just arrived back from Alexandria.
When asked his name, he replied, ‘I am Nicholas.’
The bishop said to him: ‘Nicholas, servant and friend of God, for your holiness you shall be bishop of this place.’ They brought him into the church and placed him in the bishop’s throne where he was to be consecrated the new Bishop of Myra.
Myra suffered famine in the years 311, 312, and 333. The crops failed, and the people were hungry. Bishop Nicholas learned that ships bound for Alexandria with cargoes of wheat had anchored in the harbour.
The bishop implored the sailors to take a measure of grain from each ship so that the people would have food.
The sailors said ‘No’ as the wheat was ‘meted and measured’ and every bit must be delivered.
Nicholas replied: ‘Do this, and I promise, in the truth of God, that it shall not be lessened or diminished when you get to your destination.’
So, the sailors took a measure from each ship and continued on to Alexandria. When the wheat was unloaded, the full amount was accounted for. When the tale was told, the emperor’s ministers all worshiped and praised God with thanksgiving for his servant Nicholas.
Throughout the famine people came to Bishop Nicholas for wheat. He gave it to all who had need, and the grain lasted for two years, with enough remaining to plant new crops.
It’s a story that can remind us of Christ feeding the multitude with five loaves and two fish. But it also points to the generosity of Christ giving himself to us in the Eucharist or Holy Communion, and to the generosity of God in sending us the most wonderful gift of Christ at Christmas-time and the promises of the generosity and blessings of the Kingdom of God.
And so, may all we think, say and do be to the praise, honour and glory of God, + Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.
The Organ Trophy and a carving depicting 17 musical instruments in Saint Michan’s Church, Dublin ... the church is associated with Handel’s ‘Messiah’ (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Penitential Kyries:
Turn to us again, O God our Saviour,
and let your anger cease from us.
Lord, have mercy.
Lord, have mercy.
Show us your mercy, O Lord,
and grant us your salvation.
Christ, have mercy.
Christ, have mercy.
Your salvation is near for those that fear you,
that glory may dwell in our land.
Lord, have mercy.
Lord, have mercy.
Collect:
Father in heaven,
who sent your Son to redeem the world
and will send him again to be our judge:
Give us grace so to imitate him
in the humility and purity of his first coming
that when he comes again,
we may be ready to greet him with joyful love and firm faith;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.
The Advent Collect:
This collect is said after the Collect of the day until Christmas Eve:
Almighty God,
Give us grace to cast away the works of darkness
and to put on the armour of light
now in the time of this mortal life
in which your Son Jesus Christ came to us in great humility;
that on the last day
when he shall come again in his glorious majesty
to judge the living and the dead,
we may rise to the life immortal;
through him who is alive and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.
Introduction to the Peace:
In the tender mercy of our God,
the dayspring from on high shall break upon us,
to give light to those who dwell in darkness
and in the shadow of death,
and to guide our feet into the way of peace. (Luke 1: 78, 79)
Preface:
Salvation is your gift
through the coming of your Son our Saviour Jesus Christ,
and by him you will make all things new
when he returns in glory to judge the world:
Post Communion Prayer:
Lord,
here you have nourished us with the food of life.
Through our sharing in this holy sacrament
teach us to judge wisely earthly things
and to yearn for things heavenly.
We ask this through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Blessing:
Christ the sun of righteousness shine upon you,
gladden your hearts
and scatter the darkness from before you:
(Revd Canon Professor) Patrick Comerford is Priest-in-Charge, the Rathkeale and Kilnaughtin Group of Parishes. This sermon was prepared for the Second Sunday of Advent, 10 December 2017.
Patrick Comerford
Sunday 10 December 2017,
The Second Sunday of Advent.
9.30 a.m.: Castletown Church, Kilcornan, Co Limerick, The Parish Eucharist (Holy Communion).
Readings: Isaiah 40: 1-11; Psalm 85: 1-2, 8-13; II Peter 3: 8-15a; Mark 1: 1-8.
Part 1: Lighting the Second Candle on the Advent Wreath (the Prophets):
Last week, I explained in Askeaton and in Tarbert that on each Sunday in Advent, instead of preaching one long sermon, I’m going to offer three short reflections: looking at the Advent Wreath and Candles; looking at the Gospel reading and our hopes for the Coming of Christ; and looking at the meaning of Santa Claus.
In Year B in the Lectionary readings, we are focussing on Saint Mark’s Gospel.
Last Sunday, we heard his account of the Coming of the Son of Man (Mark 13: 24-37). This morning, we return to the beginning of this Gospel (Mark 1: 1-8).
While Saint John’s Gospel begins at the beginning of Creation (‘In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was God,’ John 1: 1), Saint Mark, unlike Saint Matthew or Saint Luke, has no Nativity narrative, has no story of the first Christmas (see Matthew 1: 18 to 2: 23; Luke 1: 1 to 2: 40).
Saint Mark begins his Gospel with his account of the Baptism of Christ by Saint John in the River Jordan, which comes later in the other three Gospels (see Matthew 3: 1-17; Luke 3: 1-21; John 1: 19-34).
Indeed, there is no Christmas story in Saint Mark’s Gospel. Instead, the theme for the readings this morning is the Prophets, and then next Sunday, [17 December, Advent III), we look at Saint John the Baptist, who in his own way is the last in the line of the Prophets, the bridge between the Prophets and Christ.
The prayers at the Advent Wreath on the Sundays in Advent can help us to continue our themes from the Sunday before Advent [26 November 2017], which we marked in these dioceses as Mission Sunday, supporting projects in Swaziland in co-operation with the Anglican mission agency, the United Society Partners in the Gospel (USPG).
As we light our Advent candles in anticipation of celebrating the coming of the Christ child, USPG is inviting churches and parishes to pray for mothers and children who are served by the USPG in the world church in Tanzania, Ghana, Bangladesh and Palestine.
The first candle to light on the Advent Wreath on the First Sunday of Advent was the Purple Candle, recalling the Patriarchs and Matriarchs, our fathers and mothers in the faith, like Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Jacob. The purple second candle, which we light this Sunday, represents the Prophets.
USPG suggests this prayer when we light the second candle:
The Prophets:
O God of history,
who has spoken through the prophets;
we pray for mothers in Ghana
who have learned to protect their children from cholera.
Bless those who bring life-saving knowledge
and bless families whose children are now healthy and full of life.
Saint John the Baptist and the Prophet Isaiah … a window in Saint John’s Church, Wall (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2017)
Part 2: Waiting for Christ
May I speak to you in the name of God, + Father, Son and Holy Spirit Amen.
Our Old Testament reading (Isaiah 40: 1-11) is familiar to many of us because of the opening words of Handel’s Messiah. The promise of the Prophets is central to our understanding of waiting and hope in the weeks of Advent, the weeks immediately before Christmas.
In the Psalm (Psalm 85: 1-2, 8-13), we also hear God’s promise that he will bless the people with peace and steadfast love, which shall be the visible signs of God’s presence and power (verses 8-13).
In the Epistle reading (II Peter 3: 8-15a), Saint Peter, by now at the end of his life, leaves an assurance of the fulfilment of God’s promises.
Now, in the Gospel reading (Mark 1: 1-8), the story of the Baptism of Christ gives us the first revelation of the Trinity to the creation in the New Testament. It is like the story of a new creation. God’s promises, expressed by the Prophets and the Psalmists, are being fulfilled.
But rather than retell those stories, as my commentary on our readings and as the second part of my sermon this morning, I want to read a letter I received a few days ago in an email from another Mark, the Revd Mark Aitken, Master of the Royal Foundation of Saint Katharine in Limehouse, in the East End of London.
In his letter, he sums up a modern interpretation of the hope that was expressed in the past by the Prophets:
It is very strange that the time of the year which should be greeted with awe, wonder and bated breath; a time which should be focused on the kind of quiet that we hold so a baby won’t wake, is actually greeted with crackers, the loud singing of carols and noisy parties.
In the middle of winter, in a time of political uncertainty, and with many people living under all kinds of pressure, a reason to be cheerful should be grasped with both hands.
A season of goodwill and glad tidings feels very necessary.
However, what if there were more than just an excuse for a midwinter party going on here?
What if Christmas Day could be a day to astonish us and fill us with wonder, cut through our chatter, reduce us to silence and possibly bring us to our knees?
It could be in church, or as you sense the overwhelming love offered to you in a thoughtfully chosen present, or just in a stolen, quiet moment in the middle of a party, that your thoughts will turn to that child born in a dark stable, in the middle of the night all those years ago.
You might even catch your breath, feeling a deep longing inside you, and sense the gentle hint that this child will have something to say to you when he grows up.
Santa in the window of a café in Bird Street, Lichfield, a few days ago (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2017)
Part 3: Waiting for Santa Claus
Last Wednesday, we recalled the real Santa Claus, Saint Nicholas, during our mid-week Advent Eucharist in Saint Mary’s Church, Askeaton, and last Sunday I spoke a little about Saint Nicholas and his willingness to go to Alexandria, where God sent him as a real example among the saints of how life is a pilgrimage, an Advent, that looks forward to the coming of Christ and his Kingdom.
That funny hat that Santa Claus wears is derived from the mitre that Saint Nicholas wore as Bishop of Myra.
Saint Nicholas’s election as bishop was unusual. After the former bishop died, other bishops gathered to elect the next Bishop of Myra. As they met, the wisest bishop heard a voice in the night telling him to watch the doors of the church the next morning at Matins. The first person to enter named Nicholas was to be the new bishop.
The wise one told the others, asking them to be at prayer while he waited at the doors. When the hour came, the first to arrive was the young man who had just arrived back from Alexandria.
When asked his name, he replied, ‘I am Nicholas.’
The bishop said to him: ‘Nicholas, servant and friend of God, for your holiness you shall be bishop of this place.’ They brought him into the church and placed him in the bishop’s throne where he was to be consecrated the new Bishop of Myra.
Myra suffered famine in the years 311, 312, and 333. The crops failed, and the people were hungry. Bishop Nicholas learned that ships bound for Alexandria with cargoes of wheat had anchored in the harbour.
The bishop implored the sailors to take a measure of grain from each ship so that the people would have food.
The sailors said ‘No’ as the wheat was ‘meted and measured’ and every bit must be delivered.
Nicholas replied: ‘Do this, and I promise, in the truth of God, that it shall not be lessened or diminished when you get to your destination.’
So, the sailors took a measure from each ship and continued on to Alexandria. When the wheat was unloaded, the full amount was accounted for. When the tale was told, the emperor’s ministers all worshiped and praised God with thanksgiving for his servant Nicholas.
Throughout the famine people came to Bishop Nicholas for wheat. He gave it to all who had need, and the grain lasted for two years, with enough remaining to plant new crops.
It’s a story that can remind us of Christ feeding the multitude with five loaves and two fish. But it also points to the generosity of Christ giving himself to us in the Eucharist or Holy Communion, and to the generosity of God in sending us the most wonderful gift of Christ at Christmas-time and the promises of the generosity and blessings of the Kingdom of God.
And so, may all we think, say and do be to the praise, honour and glory of God, + Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.
The Organ Trophy and a carving depicting 17 musical instruments in Saint Michan’s Church, Dublin ... the church is associated with Handel’s ‘Messiah’ (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Penitential Kyries:
Turn to us again, O God our Saviour,
and let your anger cease from us.
Lord, have mercy.
Lord, have mercy.
Show us your mercy, O Lord,
and grant us your salvation.
Christ, have mercy.
Christ, have mercy.
Your salvation is near for those that fear you,
that glory may dwell in our land.
Lord, have mercy.
Lord, have mercy.
Collect:
Father in heaven,
who sent your Son to redeem the world
and will send him again to be our judge:
Give us grace so to imitate him
in the humility and purity of his first coming
that when he comes again,
we may be ready to greet him with joyful love and firm faith;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.
The Advent Collect:
This collect is said after the Collect of the day until Christmas Eve:
Almighty God,
Give us grace to cast away the works of darkness
and to put on the armour of light
now in the time of this mortal life
in which your Son Jesus Christ came to us in great humility;
that on the last day
when he shall come again in his glorious majesty
to judge the living and the dead,
we may rise to the life immortal;
through him who is alive and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.
Introduction to the Peace:
In the tender mercy of our God,
the dayspring from on high shall break upon us,
to give light to those who dwell in darkness
and in the shadow of death,
and to guide our feet into the way of peace. (Luke 1: 78, 79)
Preface:
Salvation is your gift
through the coming of your Son our Saviour Jesus Christ,
and by him you will make all things new
when he returns in glory to judge the world:
Post Communion Prayer:
Lord,
here you have nourished us with the food of life.
Through our sharing in this holy sacrament
teach us to judge wisely earthly things
and to yearn for things heavenly.
We ask this through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Blessing:
Christ the sun of righteousness shine upon you,
gladden your hearts
and scatter the darkness from before you:
(Revd Canon Professor) Patrick Comerford is Priest-in-Charge, the Rathkeale and Kilnaughtin Group of Parishes. This sermon was prepared for the Second Sunday of Advent, 10 December 2017.
Labels:
Advent 2017,
Cambridge,
Castletown,
Christmas 2017,
Isaiah,
Lichfield,
Mission,
Prophets,
Saint John the Baptist,
Saint Katharine's,
Saint Mark's Gospel,
Saint Michan's,
Sermons 2017,
USPG,
Wall
23 November 2016
The interesting art and architecture of
the Royal Foundation of Saint Katharine
Inside the Chapel of the Royal Foundation of Saint Katharine in Limehouse in the East End of London (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)
Patrick Comerford
The values of ‘Worship, Hospitality and Service’ are at the heart of the life of the Royal Foundation of Saint Katharine and have become the motto of the foundation.
I was staying in Saint Katharine’s last week during a residential meeting in the East End of London of the trustees of the Anglican mission agency USPG, and found it was not only an oasis in the East End, but a place of beauty, with a chapel of architectural importance, and interesting works of art throughout the chapel, the house and the gardens.
The chapel was built in 1951 on the site of the bombed parish church of Saint James’s, Ratcliffe. But the 1950s were a period of austerity, and the chapel was dark with small windows and a central altar that limited its capacity and its flexibility for worship.
The chapel was refurbished in 2004 by the architect Jonathan Dinewell. He transformed the chapel successfully with larger windows, relocating the choir stalls, moving the altar to the east under a Saint Katharine’s wheel rose window, and introducing some of the foundation’s historic monuments into the chapel. His restoration led to a much lighter and brighter interior, with its large windows and enhanced sense of peace.
The entrance to the chapel with statues of Queen Philippa to the left and King Edward III to the right (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)
At each side of the doors leading into the chapel are statues of Queen Philippa to the left and King Edward III to the right. The glazed entry doors came from Andrew Pynter’s chapel built in 1828 when Saint Katharine’s moved from the East End to Regent’s Park.
Above the door are carved 17th century panels with putti, the side ones making music and singing.
The Altar in the chapel designed by Keith Murray with the reredos above (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)
The Altar in Welsh slate was designed by Keith Murray and carved with inscriptions from Roman catacombs by Ralph Bayer. The inscription on the altar facing into the chapel reads: ‘Behold I lay in Sion a chief cornerstone, elect, precious / and he that believeth on him shall not be confounded’ (I Peter 2: 6).
The reredos above the altar is a remarkable relief of the Adoration of the Magi, which was moved out of the Cloister in 2004 and restored. The imagery is similar to a painting in the 1470s by Benevenuto di Giovanni in the National Gallery in London.
Above the reredos, an east window was installed in 2004 depicting the wheel on which Saint Katharine was tortured before her martyrdom.
In front of the Altar, in the centre of the floor of the chapel, a Compass Rose was laid in 2004 with a circle of granite brought back from Saint Catherine’s Monastery on the slopes of Mount Sinai, the world’s oldest Christian monastery.
The eight arms of the compass denote the seven days of creation and the day of the Resurrection, and point to the corners of the earth, calling us to ‘Go, proclaim the Gospel to all nations.’ The ring encircling the compass is inscribed with words of Saint Augustine of Hippo: ‘We do not come to God by navigation but by love.’
The Master’s stall among the choir stalls in the chapel (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)
The richly carved choir stalls came from the mediaeval Church of Saint Katharine by the Tower. They are outstanding examples of 14th century wood-carving but, alas, are only a fragment of the 24 stalls that survived until the 18th century.
All these stalls have misericords with delightfully lively figures, including an angel blowing bagpipes, an elephant and castle with a single rider, and the devil grabbing two chattering women.
A misericord among the choir stalls in the chapel (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)
The oak panels around the chapel are decorated with the coats of arms of some of the Masters of Saint Katharines’s from the 15th to the 19th century.
The hexagonal pulpit has marquetry panels of domes and spired churches. It was once believed that this pulpit was a gift of former master Sir Julius Caesar, but recent studies of the mouldings suggest that it is an 18th century work based on earlier designs.
High on the west wall of the chapel hangs a crucifix carved by Michael Groser, son of the first post-war Master, Father St John Groser.
The font in the chapel was a gift from Queen Victoria (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)
The font, on a 17th century pedestal, was given by Queen Victoria. The Paschal Candlestick depicts Saint Blaise and Saint Katharine.
The carved relief of Saint Katharine on the north wall of the chapel (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)
In the covered cloister outside the chapel, there are of memorials to people who were connected with Saint Katharine’s over the centuries. Outside the chapel, on the north wall, is a relief of Saint Katharine. This was moved from the East Wall of the chapel to make space for the East Window above the reredos.
A portrait of Sir Julius Caesar (1557-1636), Master of Saint Katharine’s from 1596 to 1636 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)
If the chapel is a integrated work of art on its own, then there are also many interesting works of art throughout the foundation, in the buildings and in the gardens.
Inside the foundation, visitors are greeted by an icon of Saint Katharine in the reception area. This was commissioned by the Community of the Resurrection, which was present here for 45 years until 1993.
In the main sitting room, a portrait of Sir Julius Caesar (1557-1636), Master of Saint Katharine’s from 1596 to 1636, hangs above the fireplace. The son of an Italian immigrant doctor, Cesare Adelmare from Treviso, a physician to Queen Mary I and Queen Elizabeth, Julius was baptised in the Saint Dunstan’s-in-the-East in 1558. A judge and MP for Windsor, he changed his name in his ambitious pursuit of his career, and became Chancellor of the Exchequer.
The Mystical Marriage of Saint Katharine … painted for a homesick queen (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)
In a corridor nearby is a fine painting of the Mystical Marriage of Saint Katharine by the School of Corregio. The original is in the louvre in Paris. This copy was painted for Queen Henrietta Maria, the French-born wife of King Charles I and patron of Saint Katharine’s. It is said it was pained to alleviate her homesickness for France.
‘Love is My Meaning’ … a sculpture by Naomi Blake in the gardens of Saint Katharine’s (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)
The garden outside includes a number of sculptures and statues, including one in the Queen Elizabeth Garden by Naomi Blake and named ‘Love is My Meaning,’ unveiled in 2000
Another work by Naomi Blake is ‘Genesis’ (1994), a figure of a mother and child with an inscription explaining that this work was given in honour of Lady Elizabeth Basset and ‘to promote understanding between people of different faiths.’
Naomi Blake was born in Mukaĉevo, Czechoslovakia (now Mukacheve, Ukraine) to Jewish parents in 1924. The youngest of 10 children, her original name was Zisel Dum.
She survived the Holocaust as a child in Auschwitz, although many members of her family died there. In 1942, her family included 32 members: four grandparents, her parents, nine siblings, six spouses and ten young nieces and nephews. In 1944, when Naomi was 20, most of her family was deported to Auschwitz and she was separated from everyone except her older sister Malchi, as her father, another sister and her nieces and nephews were led into the gas chambers. Of the 32 family members before the war, only had seven survived by 1945.
After World War II, she lived in Milan, Rome and Jerusalem, before making her home in North London. She changed her name to Naomi in 1948 and later she married Asher Blake. She studied at the Hornsey School of Art, now Middlesex University in 1955-1960.
Much of Naomi Blake’s work has focused on the expression of her experiences. However her work is principally optimistic, forward looking and positive. It stands determinedly to help keep alive the legacy of the six million Jews slaughtered in the Holocaust, as well as promoting her vision for uniting faiths, building understanding between religions and her hope for the future.
Her work has been exhibited in many galleries, in the Britain and abroad, and her sculptures can be seen at many sites, including Fitzroy Square and St Ethelburga’s Church, London, the University of Leicester, the Holocaust Centre, Nottinghamshire, and many royal collections.
In the week after visiting Auschwitz and Birkenau, it was startling to come across this survivor’s work in the gardens of the Royal Foundation of Saint Katharine in London.
‘The Holy City’ … one of the many works of art in the Royal Foundation of Saint Katharine (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)
Patrick Comerford
The values of ‘Worship, Hospitality and Service’ are at the heart of the life of the Royal Foundation of Saint Katharine and have become the motto of the foundation.
I was staying in Saint Katharine’s last week during a residential meeting in the East End of London of the trustees of the Anglican mission agency USPG, and found it was not only an oasis in the East End, but a place of beauty, with a chapel of architectural importance, and interesting works of art throughout the chapel, the house and the gardens.
The chapel was built in 1951 on the site of the bombed parish church of Saint James’s, Ratcliffe. But the 1950s were a period of austerity, and the chapel was dark with small windows and a central altar that limited its capacity and its flexibility for worship.
The chapel was refurbished in 2004 by the architect Jonathan Dinewell. He transformed the chapel successfully with larger windows, relocating the choir stalls, moving the altar to the east under a Saint Katharine’s wheel rose window, and introducing some of the foundation’s historic monuments into the chapel. His restoration led to a much lighter and brighter interior, with its large windows and enhanced sense of peace.
The entrance to the chapel with statues of Queen Philippa to the left and King Edward III to the right (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)
At each side of the doors leading into the chapel are statues of Queen Philippa to the left and King Edward III to the right. The glazed entry doors came from Andrew Pynter’s chapel built in 1828 when Saint Katharine’s moved from the East End to Regent’s Park.
Above the door are carved 17th century panels with putti, the side ones making music and singing.
The Altar in the chapel designed by Keith Murray with the reredos above (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)
The Altar in Welsh slate was designed by Keith Murray and carved with inscriptions from Roman catacombs by Ralph Bayer. The inscription on the altar facing into the chapel reads: ‘Behold I lay in Sion a chief cornerstone, elect, precious / and he that believeth on him shall not be confounded’ (I Peter 2: 6).
The reredos above the altar is a remarkable relief of the Adoration of the Magi, which was moved out of the Cloister in 2004 and restored. The imagery is similar to a painting in the 1470s by Benevenuto di Giovanni in the National Gallery in London.
Above the reredos, an east window was installed in 2004 depicting the wheel on which Saint Katharine was tortured before her martyrdom.
In front of the Altar, in the centre of the floor of the chapel, a Compass Rose was laid in 2004 with a circle of granite brought back from Saint Catherine’s Monastery on the slopes of Mount Sinai, the world’s oldest Christian monastery.
The eight arms of the compass denote the seven days of creation and the day of the Resurrection, and point to the corners of the earth, calling us to ‘Go, proclaim the Gospel to all nations.’ The ring encircling the compass is inscribed with words of Saint Augustine of Hippo: ‘We do not come to God by navigation but by love.’
The Master’s stall among the choir stalls in the chapel (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)
The richly carved choir stalls came from the mediaeval Church of Saint Katharine by the Tower. They are outstanding examples of 14th century wood-carving but, alas, are only a fragment of the 24 stalls that survived until the 18th century.
All these stalls have misericords with delightfully lively figures, including an angel blowing bagpipes, an elephant and castle with a single rider, and the devil grabbing two chattering women.
A misericord among the choir stalls in the chapel (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)
The oak panels around the chapel are decorated with the coats of arms of some of the Masters of Saint Katharines’s from the 15th to the 19th century.
The hexagonal pulpit has marquetry panels of domes and spired churches. It was once believed that this pulpit was a gift of former master Sir Julius Caesar, but recent studies of the mouldings suggest that it is an 18th century work based on earlier designs.
High on the west wall of the chapel hangs a crucifix carved by Michael Groser, son of the first post-war Master, Father St John Groser.
The font in the chapel was a gift from Queen Victoria (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)
The font, on a 17th century pedestal, was given by Queen Victoria. The Paschal Candlestick depicts Saint Blaise and Saint Katharine.
The carved relief of Saint Katharine on the north wall of the chapel (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)
In the covered cloister outside the chapel, there are of memorials to people who were connected with Saint Katharine’s over the centuries. Outside the chapel, on the north wall, is a relief of Saint Katharine. This was moved from the East Wall of the chapel to make space for the East Window above the reredos.
A portrait of Sir Julius Caesar (1557-1636), Master of Saint Katharine’s from 1596 to 1636 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)
If the chapel is a integrated work of art on its own, then there are also many interesting works of art throughout the foundation, in the buildings and in the gardens.
Inside the foundation, visitors are greeted by an icon of Saint Katharine in the reception area. This was commissioned by the Community of the Resurrection, which was present here for 45 years until 1993.
In the main sitting room, a portrait of Sir Julius Caesar (1557-1636), Master of Saint Katharine’s from 1596 to 1636, hangs above the fireplace. The son of an Italian immigrant doctor, Cesare Adelmare from Treviso, a physician to Queen Mary I and Queen Elizabeth, Julius was baptised in the Saint Dunstan’s-in-the-East in 1558. A judge and MP for Windsor, he changed his name in his ambitious pursuit of his career, and became Chancellor of the Exchequer.
The Mystical Marriage of Saint Katharine … painted for a homesick queen (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)
In a corridor nearby is a fine painting of the Mystical Marriage of Saint Katharine by the School of Corregio. The original is in the louvre in Paris. This copy was painted for Queen Henrietta Maria, the French-born wife of King Charles I and patron of Saint Katharine’s. It is said it was pained to alleviate her homesickness for France.
‘Love is My Meaning’ … a sculpture by Naomi Blake in the gardens of Saint Katharine’s (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)
The garden outside includes a number of sculptures and statues, including one in the Queen Elizabeth Garden by Naomi Blake and named ‘Love is My Meaning,’ unveiled in 2000
Another work by Naomi Blake is ‘Genesis’ (1994), a figure of a mother and child with an inscription explaining that this work was given in honour of Lady Elizabeth Basset and ‘to promote understanding between people of different faiths.’
Naomi Blake was born in Mukaĉevo, Czechoslovakia (now Mukacheve, Ukraine) to Jewish parents in 1924. The youngest of 10 children, her original name was Zisel Dum.
She survived the Holocaust as a child in Auschwitz, although many members of her family died there. In 1942, her family included 32 members: four grandparents, her parents, nine siblings, six spouses and ten young nieces and nephews. In 1944, when Naomi was 20, most of her family was deported to Auschwitz and she was separated from everyone except her older sister Malchi, as her father, another sister and her nieces and nephews were led into the gas chambers. Of the 32 family members before the war, only had seven survived by 1945.
After World War II, she lived in Milan, Rome and Jerusalem, before making her home in North London. She changed her name to Naomi in 1948 and later she married Asher Blake. She studied at the Hornsey School of Art, now Middlesex University in 1955-1960.
Much of Naomi Blake’s work has focused on the expression of her experiences. However her work is principally optimistic, forward looking and positive. It stands determinedly to help keep alive the legacy of the six million Jews slaughtered in the Holocaust, as well as promoting her vision for uniting faiths, building understanding between religions and her hope for the future.
Her work has been exhibited in many galleries, in the Britain and abroad, and her sculptures can be seen at many sites, including Fitzroy Square and St Ethelburga’s Church, London, the University of Leicester, the Holocaust Centre, Nottinghamshire, and many royal collections.
In the week after visiting Auschwitz and Birkenau, it was startling to come across this survivor’s work in the gardens of the Royal Foundation of Saint Katharine in London.
‘The Holy City’ … one of the many works of art in the Royal Foundation of Saint Katharine (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2016)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)













