Showing posts with label Saint Michan's. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Saint Michan's. Show all posts

30 July 2019

Trying to sort out some
Chinese puzzles on
a tangled family tree

The sexton’s lodge at Saint Michan’s Church, Dublin … Thomas George Comerford (1820-1908) died there, and the church was associated with many family events (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Patrick Comerford

When I moved to Askeaton, Co Limerick, in early 2017, I was curious to find a number of branches of the Comerford family with connections in Co Limerick.

They included two Comerford nuns who lived about a century ago in a convent where one of the ‘residents’ in the attached ‘Magdalene Laundry’ was also a Comerford; a family of Comerford carpenters who lived in Limerick for at least four generations – some soldiers and RIC constables; and an interesting and unexpected connection between the Comerfords of Rathdrum, Co Wicklow, and Castleconnell, Co Limerick.

As I delved further into Comerford links with Limerick, I came across at least one Comerford family with roots in Co Carlow and Dublin, who had connections in the second half of the 19th century with Castletown Church, near Pallaskenry, one of the four churches in my group of parishes.

James Comerford and his wife Elizabeth were living in Pallaskenry, Co Limerick, in 1875. They were newly married and their son William Henry Comerford, was born on 5 February 1875.

But they soon moved from Pallaskenry, the trail grew cold, and I wondered what had happened to them. Where did they move to? Did they have any more children? Had they any descendants.

Meanwhile, I had also been interested in the story of Captain William Edward Comerford from Liverpool and his wife Ella, who had been Baptist missionaries in China in the early decades of the last century. Were they related to any of the Comerford families in Ireland I have been researching over the decades?

Little did I realise that some genealogical sites were claiming a direct link between the Comerfords of Pallasakenry and the Comerford missionary couple in China. Research in recent months has helped to fill out more details of the family tree of these branches of the Comerford family.

I found a family who had moved between Co Carlow, Gillingham in Kent, Cork and Dublin, and that was closely associated with the life of Saint Michan’s Church, Church Street, Dublin, at the end of the 19th century.

Castletown Church, Pallaskenry, where William Henry Comerford may have been baptised in 1875 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2017)

Comerford of Graigue, Co Carlow, Cork, Dublin and Pallaskenry, Co Limerick

PATRICK COMERFORD (ca 1799-ca 1869) married Sarah Anne …. They lived in Gillignham, Kent, ca 1820, and later lived in Graigue, Co Carlow, in the 1830s, and were living in Dublin by the 1840s. They were living at 3 Sackville Gardens (1840), 6 Bachelor’s Walk, Dublin (1842), 26 Anna Villa, Cullenswood, Ranelagh, Dublin (1853). Their children probably included:

1, Thomas George Comerford (1820-1908), of whom next.
2, Sarah Anne, dressmaker, living in Dublin in 1849 when she was a witness at the wedding of her brother William Comerford. On 29 July 1850, she married Timothy McMahon, tailor, of 128 Upper Dorset Street, Dublin, son of John McMahon, in Saint Mary’s Church (Church of Ireland), Dublin.
3, James Comerford (1830- ), baptised Killeshin Church (Church of Ireland), Co Carlow, 21 March 1830.
4, William Comerford (1832- ), baptised Killeshin Church, 13 May 1832, of whom after his eldest brother Thomas.
5, Helen Mary (1834- ), baptised Killeshin Church, 19 October 1834.
6, Charles Comerford (1840- ), born 24 February 1840, baptised in Saint George’s Church (Church of Ireland), Dublin, 4 March 1840. He was living at 5 Lombard Street, Dublin, on 2 August 1863 when he married in Saint Nicholas Church (RC), Francis Street Elizabeth Letson, daughter of John and Esther (Supple) Letson of 31 Francis Street, Dublin (witnesses Michael Tagan, Catherine Carroll).
7, Samuel Horatio Comerford (1842- ), born 13 December 1842, at 6 Bachelor’s Walk, Dublin. He was baptised in Saint Mary’s Church (Church of Ireland), Dublin, on 28 December 1842.
8, Mary Anne (1853- ), she was born on 23 September 1853 and was baptised on 28 October 1853 in Saint Peter’s Church (Church of Ireland), Dublin.

The first-named son of Patrick and Sarah Anne Comerford was:

THOMAS GEORGE COMERFORD (1820-1908), born in Gillingham, Kent, 16 July 1820 (birth records; 1901 census). He was a sailor and living at 36 Harcourt Street, Dublin, when he married on 9 November 1846 Mary Whiston, daughter of Isaac Whiston, in Saint Peter’s Church (Church of Ireland), Dublin (witnesses: Thomas and Grace Dary; the Revd Richard Stack, curate). They later lived in Cork (1853-1864), at 5 Tivoli Terrace, Harold’s Cross, Dublin (1867), and 157½ Church Street, Dublin, when he was the sexton at Saint Michan’s Church, Dublin (ca 1871-1892). He was widowed when he died there on 12 April 1908.

Thomas and Mary Comerford were the parents of at least four sons and two daughters:

1, Thomas George Comerford ( -1886), sanitary officer; living in 1885, and present at the death of his brother Isaac. He died on 4 June 1886, and administration was granted to his father.
2, Isaac Whiston Comerford (1851/1852-1885), clerk, living with his father at Saint Michan’s, 157½ Church Street, Dublin, on 24 April 1883, when he married Mary Tobin, daughter of John Tobin, carpenter, of 8 Curzon Street, Dublin, in Saint Michan’s Church (witnesses Michael Tobin and Margaret Tobin). The wedding was conducted by the curate, the Revd Michael Burchell Buick (later Bewick), previously curate of Saint Michael’s, Limerick. Isaac Whiston Comerford died at Saint Michan’s, 157½ Church Street, Dublin, at the age of 34 on 13 June 1885.
3, James Richard Comerford (1853-post 1904), of whom next.
4, Emily, (1864/1865-1949) born Cork ca 1864/1865 (aged 36 at 1901 census), living with her father from 1883, when she is a witness at weddings in Saint Michan’s Church; she was there at the 1901 census, and present at her father’s death at Saint Michan’s in 1908. Died 20 May 1949, unmarried, at Saint Joseph’s, Portland Row, when her age is given as 80.
5, Samuel Henry Comerford (1867-1890), born 11 April 1867, baptised in Holy Trinity Church (Church of Ireland), Rathmines, by the curate, the Revd Loftus T Shire (1819-1902). He was a photographer. He died on 28 February 1890, at the age of 20 (sic), at the Lodge, Saint Michan’s Church, Dublin.
6, Elizabeth, who married Frederick Crofton Dawson, compositor, son of William Dawson, compositor, of 11 Berkeley Road, Dublin, on 25 February 1892, in Saint George’s Church, Dublin (witnesses Thomas George Comerford and George Gerald Dunbar; priest, the Revd Thomas Long, Rector of Saint Michan’s). Frederick Dawson was born on 14 April 1860, and baptised on 3 June 1860 in Saint Mary’s Church (Church of Ireland).

The third son of Thomas and Mary Comerford was:

JAMES RICHARD COMERFORD (1853-post 1917). Clerk, bookkeeper. He was born in Cork in 1853 (1901 census, 1911 census). Clerk. He was living at the Lodge, Saint Michan’s Church, Dublin, where his father was the sexton, on 15 February 1886, when he married Ellen Eva Dowling, daughter of John Dowling, army pensioner; she was born in Co Kildare (1901 census). The witnesses were his brother Samuel Henry Comerford and Maria Madden.

James and Ellen Comerford later lived at 27 Upper Dorset Street (1886), 33 Upper Gloucester Street (1887), 50 Upper Dorset Street (1888, 1889, 1901 census), 37 Nelson Street (1892, 1893), 6 Bolton Street (1895), 32 Upper Dorset Street (1900), 1 Blessington Place (1904), Henrietta Street (1911 census) and 16 Saint Michael’s Terrace, Blackpitts, Dublin (1917, Ellen’s death, Alice’s marriage).

Ellen died on 28 August 1917, aged 55, at 16 Saint Michael’s Terrace, aged 55, with her husband James present.

James and Ellen were the parents of 13 children, eight of whom were living in 1911. They included:

1, Mary Catherine (1886-post 1911), born 1 December 1886 at 27 Upper Dorset Street. School teacher (1901 census), Living with her parents in 1911, Church of Ireland, factory worker.
2, Thomas George Foy Comerford (1888-1888), born 31 August 1888, baptised Saint Mary’s Pro-Cathedral, Dublin (sponsor Catherine Madden). Died aged 3 months, 50 Upper Dorset Street, 10 December 1888.
3, Alice Josephine (1889-post 1917), born 16 September 1889, baptised Saint Mary’s Pro-Cathedral (sponsors, Christopher Kelly, Ida Madden). Living with her parents in 1911, Church of Ireland, factory worker. She was living at 16 Saint Michael’s Terrace when she married David William Alford (1886-1941), painter, in Saint Nicholas Church, Francis Street, on 7 February 1917 (witnesses Michael Foy and Emily Eileen Comerford). They lived at 10 Saint Michael’s Terrace, where he died on 4 August 1941.
4, Emily Eileen (1892-1963), born 8 February 1892 at 37 Nelson Street, Dublin. Living with her parents in 1911, Church of Ireland, factory worker; living at 16 St Michael’s Terrace, when she married Joseph Monks of 26 South King Street, Dublin, in Saint Nicholas Church, Francis Street, on 28 September 1921 (witnesses: Edward Monks, Ellen Eva Comerford). They lived at 24 Crampton Buildings, Dublin. She died on 11 December 1963, aged 71.
5, Ellen Eva (1893-1954), born 7 July 1893, 37 Nelson Street. Living with her parents in 1911, Church of Ireland, factory worker, died 1954.
6, James William Comerford (1895-post 1901), born 31 March 1895, 6 Bolton Street, Dublin. Living with his parents in 1911, Church of Ireland, factory worker.
7, Samuel Christopher Comerford (1897- ), born 13 February 1897, baptised Saint Mary’s Pro-Cathedral, Dublin. Living with his parents in 1911, Church of Ireland, factory worker.
8, Frederick Robert Coleman Comerford (1900-1962), born 8 March 1900. Living with his parents in 1911, Church of Ireland. Lived at 16 Saint Michael’s Terrace, Blackpitts, Dublin. Brush maker. Unmarried. Died 18 March 1962.
9, Charles Stewart Parnell Comerford (1904-post 1962), born 10 October 1904 in the Rotunda Hospital, Dublin. Living with his parents in 1911, Church of Ireland. Cabinet maker. He lived at 16 Saint Michael’s Terrace, South Circular Road, Dublin (1943), 3 Mount Street Crescent, Dublin (1962). On 28 July 1943, he married Sarah Coogan of 51 Percy Place, Dublin, in Saint Mary’s Church, Haddington Road.

The fourth child and third-named son of Patrick and Sarah Anne Comerford appears to be the same person as:

WILLIAM COMERFORD (1832-post 1853), baptised Killeshin Church, 13 May 1832; porter, of 128 Upper Dorset Street, Dublin (1849), 5 Granby Place (1850) and 133 Stephen’s Green (1851). He married on 9 April 1849, in Saint Mary’s Church (Church of Ireland), Dublin, Bridget, daughter of Timothy Baker (or Barker), clerk. They were both minors at the time of their marriage. The witnesses at their wedding were Anthony Farington and William’s sister, Sarah Anne Comerford.

They were the parents of a son and two daughters:

1, Bridget (1850- ), born 5 Granby Place, Dublin, 29 May 1850, baptised the same day in Saint Mary’s Church, Dublin.
2, James Comerford (1851-1894), of Pallaskenry, Co Limerick, and Gardiner Street, Dublin, of whom next.
3, Mary Anne, born 23 September 1853 at 26 Anna Villa, Cullenswood, Ranelagh, and baptised by the Revd John James MacSorley in Saint Peter’s Church (Church of Ireland), Dublin, on 28 October 1853.

Their son:

JAMES COMERFORD (1851-1894), butler, of Pallaskenry, Co Limerick, and Gardiner Street, Dublin. He was born at 133 Stephen’s Peer (?) on 20 August 1851, and was baptised on 29 August 1851 in Saint Peter’s Church (Church of Ireland), Dublin, by the curate, the Revd John James McSorley. He gave his address as 96 Lower Gardiner Street, Dublin, when he married in Saint Thomas’s Church (Church of Ireland), Dublin, on 17 May 1873 Elizabeth Lightly, daughter of Henry Lightly, hotel operator, of 96 Lower Gardiner Street.

They were living in Pallaskenry, Co Limerick (1875), and at 96 Lower Gardiner Street (1880). He was a witness on 20 January 1883 at the marriage in Saint Thomas’s Church (Church of Ireland), Dublin, of Elizabeth’s sister, Maria Lightly, of 3 Upper Gloucester Street, and John Drew, house painter.

He died on 6 February 1894 at 3 Upper Gloucester Street, Dublin, with his son WH Comerford present.

They were the parents of two sons:

1, William Henry Comerford (1875-post 1894), born 5 February 1875 in Pallaskenry, Co Limerick. He was present at his father’s death in Dublin in 1894.
2, Charles Samuel Comerford (1880-post 1901), born 3 October 1880, hall porter, Mercer Street (1901 census).

Captain William Edward Comerford (1881-1938) from Liverpool, a Baptist missionary in China … married Ella Jeter during World War I

Some Chinese puzzles

In many family trees on public internet sites, James Comerford (1851-1894), who lived in Pallaskenry, Co Limerick, and Gardiner Street, Dublin, has been confused with James Comerford (1852-1898) of Liverpool, the father of William Edward Comerford (1881-1938), a Baptist missionary in China.

However, the names of the children of this James Comerford, their dates of birth and his life span make it impossible that these are the same people.

This other James Comerford is said to have been born in Dublin (not Cork) and was living in Liverpool in 1861, 1871, at 110 Upper Bean Street, Everton (1878), Everton (1891), and Wren Street, Liverpool (1894). In Liverpool, this James Comerford worked as a printer and a compositor.

On 14 October 1878, in Liverpool, this James Comerford married Ann R Cammack (1854-1897), daughter of Edward Cammack (1811-1861). They were the parents of nine children, but when they died these brothers and sisters were sent to homes and orphanages in the Liverpool area. Ann died in in 1897, and James died in January 1898. Their children included:

1, Mary, born 1880.
2, William Edward Comerford (1881-1938), of whom next.
3, Ada (1882- ), married Frederick H Johnson.
4, Margaret (1885- ), baptised in Saint Timothy’s Church, Everton, on 2 December 1885.
5, James Comerford (1887- ), married Letitia Dunning. They were the parents of two children:
● 1a, …, a daughter.
● 2a, William Comerford.
6, Lily (1889- ), married James Haltead.
7, Richard Comerford (1890-1973), born in West Derby, Liverpool, on 29 October 1891, died 1973.
8, Ernest Comerford (1893- ).
9, Percy Comerford (1894-1957), born 28 July 1894, Everton, and died in Hove, Sussex, 1957. He married Margaret Ellen Sweeney.

Captain William Edward Comerford from Liverpool, a Baptist missionary in China … married Ella Jeter during World War I

The eldest son of James Comerford:

(The Revd) WILLIAM EDWARD COMERFORD (1881-1938), a missionary in China and an army captain in World War I. He was born ca on 5 July 1881, at 59 Kirby Street, Everton, and was baptised on 17 July 1881 in Saint Timothy’s Church, Everton.

He was a jeweller’s assistant, born in Liverpool in 1901 and living in Moss Side with his uncle Richard Cammack and family. In the years that followed, he became a missionary in China. He arrived in Beijing (Peking) in 1906, and he was supported from 1909 by the English Baptist Missionary Society in his work in Xi'an (Sianfu), one of the oldest cities in China.

On 27 April 1914, William married Eleanor (‘Ella’) Jeter Comerford, a Baptist missionary from Texas who worked in China. They were married in Chefoo (Yantai), in Shandong Province in northern China.

Ella was born on 19 April 1877 in the Hayden Community, Van Zandt County, Texas. She was the daughter of Allen William Jeter (1832-1907) and Susan Seale Jeter (1840-1920), and as a child attended Hayden Baptist Church. Later, she attended Baylor University.

Ella was commissioned by the Foreign Mission Board of the Southern Baptist Convention on 22 June 1905 for mission work in China. She worked as a missionary in China with the famous Charlotte Digges ‘Lottie’ Moon (1840-1912), a Southern Baptist missionary from Texas.

By 1915, William was Captain William Edward (‘Will’) Comerford of the Royal Army Service Corps in World War I. Will and Ella had returned to England from China, and they lived at 45 Field Way, Wavertree, Liverpool. By 1919, he was living in West Derby, when he was a Baptist minister. He went to Shanghai in 1919, and then on to Montreal.

But Will Comerford had been shell-shocked in World War I. Will and Ella were divorced in 1928. He spent his last years in hospital in England. He died on 25 October 1938 at 27 Duke Street, London.

Ella Comerford and her daughter Ruth sailed from Liverpool to New York City on the RMS Aquitania in 1930. Ella was later a teacher in Hayden, Texas. She died in Terrell, Kaufman County, Texas, on 9 October 1959 and is buried at White Rose Cemetery in Van Zandt County, Texas.

William and Ella were the parents of two children, a son and a daughter:

1, Howard Comerford (1916-1935), who was killed in a car crash at the age in England.
2, Ruth Marion Comerford (1918-1986), born on 28 June 1918 at 27 Radstock Road, West Derby, Liverpool. She married James Robert Thornhill. She died in Texas in 1986.

Perhaps in time I may find out what happened to William Henry Comerford, who was born in Pallaskenry, Co Limerick, and clarify the identity of James Comerford from Dublin who was the father of the Liverpool-born Baptist missionary, William Edward Comerford.

Meanwhile, I hope in time to migrate the stories of some of these branches of the Comerford family in Limerick city and county to my site on Comerford family history. But I thought it was worth sharing these stories as I continue to try to disentangle the roots and branches of these family trees.

Ella Jeter Comerford … worked as a missionary in China for many years

Last updated: 8 August 2019

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.

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.

28 October 2014

A Service of the Word for a commemoration
of the First World War in a local church

A simple war memorial in Saint Michan’s Church, Church Street, Dublin … the Liturgical Advisory Committee has produced ‘A Service of the Word for a commemoration of the First World War in a Local Church’ (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2014)

Patrick Comerford

The Church of Ireland Notes’ in The Irish Times last Saturday [25 October 2014] said:

“This year, as remembrance tide approaches there will be a particular emphasis on the events of World War I and the Church of Ireland is seeking to relate to this in a number of ways. In many parishes there has been much local research, centred on parish war memorials on those who fought and those who died and they will be a particular focus for remembrance.

“The Liturgical Advisory Committee has produced ‘A Service of the Word for a commemoration of the First World War in a Local Church.’ It has been posted on the Church of Ireland Worship page http://ireland.anglican.org/worship from where it can be downloaded and reproduced locally. The LAC hopes that this will prove beneficial to those parishes wishing to commemorate the centenary of the start of World War I on Remembrance Sunday, or at some other appropriate time.”

My introduction to this resource says:

A Service of the Word
for a commemoration of the
First World War
in a Local Church

Remembering World War I:


The number of events to commemorate multiplies for the years 2014-2018. Understandably, much of the attention is going to focus on the centenary of the landings at Suvla Bay and the Gallipoli Campaign, between 25 April 1915 and 9 January 1916, and on the Battle of the Somme, which was fought 1 July and 18 November 1916.

A conservative estimate says nearly 4,000 Irish troops died in the 1915 Gallipoli campaign, but the figure is probably much higher.

On the first day of the Battle of the Somme, the 5,500 casualties of the 36th Ulster Division on 1 July were men drawn almost entirely from one community in Ulster. Nearly 2,000 soldiers from cities, towns, villages and townlands in Northern Ireland were killed in the first few hours of fighting.

In a continuation of the same battle, the 16th Irish Division had 4,330 casualties in September, of whom 1,200 were killed. These came mainly from the other three provinces.

In addition, many more Irish soldiers fought in other divisions of the regular army or in the newly-raised battalions. The total number of Irish casualties cannot be calculated with certainty but they affected every part of the island and continue to influence the evolution of Irish politics.

The Battle of the Somme is an important but often politicised commemoration in Northern Ireland, yet in both campaigns men from both parts of the island and from both traditions fought side-by-side suffered together, and sustained, encouraged and cared for each other.

Many of the stories from both campaigns remain untold. The majority of the Irish regiments, not all based on this island, have been disbanded, and the loss of continuity means the loss of story-telling. In addition, the changing political climate in Southern Ireland meant former soldiers and families felt they were forced into silence. Those who had gone out in bravery and thought they were returning home as heroes, now found their stories could not be told, and feared being marginalised as ‘traitors.’ Heroism and bravery were forgotten, and those who suffered, both former soldiers and their families, often suffered in silence.

In the new Irish Free State, even the promise of secure jobs for returning soldiers often disappeared.

In giving voice to the silenced generation, the Church must give voice to their suffering, their untold stories, their bravery and heroism. Perhaps they answered the call from Redmond to fight for the freedom of small nations; perhaps they hoped their decision would bring financial security and employment for their family and for future generations.

How we design and structure our commemorations can restore these hopes and give new hope for the security they sought for future generations.

Confession and thanksgiving, in the proper proportions and in creative tension and balance, can help achieve this.

Patrick Comerford

The service and additional full resources can be downloaded here.

The pulpit in Saint Iberius’s Church, Wexford, serves as a World War I memorial (Photograph: Patrick Comerford,2014)

13 July 2014

Sowing seeds of faith and hope for
the benefit of future generations

The Victorian glasshouses in the National Botanic Gardens, Glasnevin, are a visible lesson in planting seeds with hope for the future (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2014)

Patrick Comerford

Sunday 13 July 2014,

The Fourth Sunday after Trinity,

10 a.m.:
The Parish Eucharist,

Saint Michan’s Church, Church Street, Dublin,

11.30 a.m.: The Parish Eucharist,

All Saints’ Church, Grangegorman, Dublin.

Readings:

Genesis 25: 19-34; Psalm 119: 105-112; Romans 8: 1-11; Matthew 13: 1-9, 18-23.

May I speak to you in the name of + the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen.

I am not good at sowing, not good at growing plants or trees, and certainly not good at growing them from seed.

I like to explain this away by excuses such as heavy hay fever since childhood or claiming I do not have green fingers. But to tell the truth it may be because of a combination of faults: because I expect quick results and because I expect perfection.

I enjoy sitting in the garden, reading, eating in the open, listening to the fountain, but not wedding the flower beds, tending the plants or mowing the lawn.

In short, I don’t do gardening, I don’t do garden centres.

But twice last weekend I found myself unexpectedly appreciating gardens and growing and growth: on Saturday afternoon visiting the National Botanic Gardens and on Sunday afternoon admiring the Lavender Field at Avoca in Kilmacanogue.

In both cases, these are places where people with vision did not expect immediate results.

The Botanic Gardens were founded in Glasnevin in 1795 by people with vision such as the Speaker of the Irish House of Commons, John Foster. But it was another 40 years or more before the basic shape of the gardens was established by 1838.

David Moore, who was appointed curator that year, had the vision to develop the glasshouse accommodation, and he commissioned Richard Turner, the great Dublin ironmaster, to provide an iron house to replace the previous wooden house.

Work on the main curvilinear glasshouse started in 1843. It was a vision for the future and a gift to the future. Those who planned it and devoted their energy to building those glasshouses in Glasnevin had no idea of the pleasure they were bequeathing to future generations, and today the glasshouses in the Botanic Gardens stand as a great achievement of Victorian engineering, planning and vision.

In many ways, the buildings they planned and the seeds sown in them have brought forth not just thirtyfold, but sixtyfold, a hundredfold, and perhaps even more.

Today, the living collections at the National Botanic Gardens include over 300 endangered species from around the world, and six species already extinct in the wild. These are a vital resource, and the staff there speak of them like a “Noah’s Ark” for the future.

In those glasshouses, Victorian architecture, engineering, art and science come together.

Without careful, measured, timing and proper planning we would not see the results today.

The Lavender Field, Kilmacanogue ... an example of planning carefully and reaping the benefits over the years (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2014)

The Lavender Field in Kilmacanogue, on the edge of the N11 outside Bray, is a more recent example of planning carefully and reaping the benefits in measured ways over the years.

The Lavender Farm owes its origins to Brian Cox and Donald Pratt, who had the idea in 1983 of starting an Irish perfume company, and moved to Kilmacangoue in 1987. Some of their fragrances are sourced from lavender from their own field, across the road from their offices in Kilmacanogue.

Thirty years later, this “field of dreams,” nestling between the two Sugarloaf mountains, is producing top quality lavender oil and provides the inspiration for many of the company’s ideas. The lavender is harvested every summer at this time of the year, and the Lavender Harvest Party celebrates nature’s amazing gift of the golden oil from the lavender.

Some of the Lavender is growing on rocky waste and along the roadside (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2014)

Some of the lavender is actually growing along the roadside, even on the rocky waste left on the margins of the N11 as it is being converted into the M11. But without the seed that had fallen by the roadside and the rocky places, I might never have noticed the lavender that is growing on the deep, rich soil, and producing this abundant harvest.

Nonetheless, this lavender field has taken a generation to reach the maturity that is its glory today.

Too often we expect immediate results. And too often we judge whether a project is a success or a failure by asking whether it is producing immediate, measurable, visible apparent results. If not, we dismiss that project as an immediate failure.

In our Old Testament reading this morning (Genesis 25: 19-34), Rebekkah first of all does not expect to be pregnant – she is married for 20 years and Isaac is 60 before she conceives. To add to her surprise after all those years, she finds she is pregnant not with one child but with two, twin boys.

Their father Isaac does not expect Jacob to grow and become his heir.

Instead, Esau is the hunter gatherer, while Jacob seems to be the stay-at-home boy, “Mammy’s boy,” with a hint that he is good at stirring up trouble (see verse 29).

Esau expects immediate results, to the point that he is willing to give up his long-term prospects, his rights and inheritance as the first-born son, for the immediate satisfaction of lentil stew Isaac has been cooking.

Esau expects immediate results. He lacks the patience to wait and see what may happen, he does not have the ability, the commitment or the endurance to stick with things.

The Psalmist too is challenged to consider his own need for patience and endurance, to see not his immediate predicament but to look to the future. He thinks he is a failure because of his present circumstances, but does the rejection he feels today shape the tomorrow he faces?

Psalm 119 is the longest of the psalms, and is made up of 22 eight-line stanzas. This morning’s portion (verses 105-112) is the fourteenth of these stanzas. In Hebrew, each line begins with the letter nun, the fourteenth letter in the alphabet.

Perhaps the dominant theme running through this stanza is need for patience and determination. The psalmist stands up against “the wicked”, who oppose God’s ways and have set a trap. The psalmist is “deeply troubled” (verse 107), perhaps by the insults and innuendos hurled at him the ungodly (verse 110). Yet he learns patiently in the face of these immediate risks to his life (verse 109) to remain in awe of God.

He has an inheritance that is not only for the here and now, but for future generations, for ever (verse 111), and for ever and to the end (verse 112).

In the face of adversity, this is his real joy, even though he may not see the fruits of his faithfulness, it will be of benefit to future generations.

Just because something works now does not mean it is right for the future. Just because something does not work now does not mean it is wrong for the future.

It is not the fault of the seed that it has fallen on rocky soil, or landed on the roadway, or been burned up in the mid-day sun. God scatters where he will, abundantly and generously.

On the other hand, we can achieve little by our own innate qualities or abilities. We are all inter-dependent – just like the seed, which depends on soil, sun, rain and the right conditions.

Why does some of the seed yield better results? – some of it is immeasurably better than that other seed.

Growth occurs without us seeing or knowing it. Yet we can have such limited expectations of God.

Why does God allow certain people to do this, that or the other?

Why does God allow particular people or nations to prosper?

Why does God seemingly reward the wayward and the careless, those I who would prefer to see left on rocky soil or would pass by on the side of the road?

If only God behaved a little more like I do, or like I want him to, would this not be a far, far better world?

Would this not be a far, far better society?

Would this not be a far, far better Church?

And so on.

Isaac and Rebekkah, and Jacob too, do not see the working out of God’s plans in future generations. Like the sower who sows so that others may reap, how could Isaac and Rebekkah know what Jacob’s bowl of lentils would lead to?

At the moment, we are very exercised about Church attendance figures in the Church of Ireland and about growth and Church planting.

As we plan and work on new church plants to reach the unchurched, I sometimes, just sometimes, wonder whether we are already neglecting our own inheritance, the harvest of the seeds that have already been planted, the promise that was made to past generations.

The most recent census figures across the island show that about 378,000 people claim affiliation with the Church of Ireland – 249,000 in Northern Ireland and 129,000 in the Republic. But the average attendance at Sunday worship, according to figures based on an exercise last November, is 58,000 people – 15% of those identifying themselves as Church of Ireland in the census returns in 2011.

As the Archbishop of Armagh, Archbishop Richard Clarke, says, “we need to think clearly about ‘long–term’ church and how best to make a positive witness and contribution to the community in all parts of Ireland over, say, the next twenty years.”

If we are going to look to the future, perhaps, and I am only saying perhaps, our first exercise in mission should be in building up our present congregations and parishes, in reaching out to the other 85% who think they have fallen on the pathway, on the rock soil or have been gobbled up by other fly-by Sunday pursuits.

There is hope. There is hope for our dwindling and small congregations. If we have hope in the seeds sown in the past, if we pay attention to the potential harvest, if we look with faith and hope to the future, first among the other 85%, then there is no reason to fret about present figures.

Like the Victorian engineers who had vision in Glasnevin almost two centuries ago, we may not see the growth that follows our work today. But there is no need to fear that small and dwindling congregations are setting the course for the future.

Let us not look for immediate and short-term growth today, but look to those who already have had the seeds of faith, and hope and love sown in them at their baptism, in their childhood, with their confirmation. And then, perhaps, we need not fret about the future.

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

Canon Patrick Comerford is Lecturer in Anglicanism, Liturgy and Church History, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute. This sermon was preached at the Parish Eucharists in Saint Michan’s Church, Dublin, and All Saints’ Church, Grangegorman, on Sunday 13 July 2014.


A sign in the Happy Pear restaurant in Greystones, Co Wicklow (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2014)

Collect:

O God, the protector of all who trust in you,
without whom nothing is strong, nothing is holy:
Increase and multiply upon us your mercy;
that with you as our ruler and guide,
we may so pass through things temporal
that we finally lose not the things eternal:
Grant this, heavenly Father,
for Jesus Christ’s sake, our Lord.

Post Communion Prayer

Eternal God,
comfort of the afflicted and healer of the broken,
you have fed us at the table of life and hope.
Teach us the ways of gentleness and peace,
that all the world may acknowledge
the kingdom of your Son Jesus Christ our Lord.

06 July 2014

Recalling World War I and
the greatest deployment of
armed forces in Irish history

The Redmond Memorial in the centre of Wexford Town ... World War I began as Ireland was divided by the Home Rule crisis (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Patrick Comerford

Later this month, commemorations begin to mark the centenary of World War I, which started on 28 July 1914. Over four years, more than nine million combatants were killed in the ‘Great War,’ making it one of the deadliest conflicts in history.

The commemorations are never likely to descend into a glorification of war. Instead, they are likely to focus on the horrors of war, its impact on the lives of many millions of people, and a legacy that includes major changes that reshaped the political map of Europe.

The war is often been seen as a conflict between the jealous crowned heads of Europe and it brought about the downfall of many royal houses. But its impact on the lives of ordinary people must never be forgotten: more than 70 million people were mobilised in a period that lasted long after the war ended.

The immediate trigger for the war was the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand of Austria, the heir to the throne of Austria, who was murdered in Sarajevo on 28 June 1914 by Gavrilo Princip, a Serb nationalist. The murder set off a diplomatic crisis when Austria delivered the “July Ultimatum” to Serbia. On 28 July 1914, Austria invaded Serbia, and Germany declared war on Tsarist Russia on 1 August, invaded France on 2 August, and neutral Belgium on 3 August. On 4 August, Britain declared war on Germany. In November, the Ottoman Empire joined the war; Italy and Bulgaria went to war in 1915, Romania in 1916, and the US in 1917. The last country to enter the war was Romania – albeit for the second time – on 10 November 1918, one day before the war ended.

War and the Home Rule crisis

In a speech at Woodenbridge, Co Wicklow, John Redmond called on the Irish Volunteers to enlist in Irish regiments (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Ireland was involved throughout the war as part of the United Kingdom. The war began as Ireland was embroiled in a major political crisis over Home Rule, but the crisis was temporarily defused when nationalist and unionist leaders alike initially supported Britain’s war efforts.

The Unionist leader, Edward Carson, offered his immediate support. On 3 August 1914, the Wexford-born leader of the Irish Parliamentary Party, John Redmond (1856-1918), then MP for Waterford City, declared in the Commons that the government could withdraw every soldier from Ireland and yet be assured that the coast of Ireland would be defended by Ireland’s armed sons.

The first British engagement in Europe involved the 4th Royal Irish Dragoon Guards when they met a German patrol near Mons on 22 August 1914, and Corporal Edward Thomas had the distinction of firing the first British shot in Europe in the War.

World War I remembered in Enniskillen Cathedral ... this was the greatest deployment of armed manpower in Irish history (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

The first major battle was the Battle of Mons. On 27 August, the 2nd Battalion Royal Munster Fusiliers formed the rearguard to cover the retreat of British forces and made an epic stand. The Irish Guards also suffered heavily at Mons, and the experience of the Munsters and the Irish Guards was typical of the first campaigns in France and Belgium.

Home Rule passed into law on 17 September, and in a speech at Woodenbridge, Co Wicklow, on 20 September, John Redmond called on the Irish Volunteers to enlist in Irish regiments. He believed Imperial Germany threatened the freedom of Europe and that it was Ireland’s duty, having achieved future self-government, “to the best of her ability to go where ever the firing line extends, in defence of right, of freedom and of religion in this war. It would be a disgrace forever to our country otherwise.”

Irish enlistment

Major William Redmond’s memorial in Wexford ... he was one of five Irish MPs who enlisted in the British army (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Redmond’s son, William Redmond, then MP for East Tyrone, enlisted, as did his brother, Major Willie Redmond, then MP for Clare East and a former MP for Wexford Borough. Four other Irish MPs enlisted: Sir John Esmonde, MP for North Tipperary; Stephen Gwynn, MP for Galway and son of the Revd John Gwynn, Regius Professor of Divinity at Trinity College Dublin; and Daniel Desmond Sheehan, MP for mid-Cork. In addition, Tom Kettle, former MP for East Tyrone, enlisted, and Redmond’s call was supported by many parliamentary leaders, including William O’Brien, Thomas O’Donnell and Joseph Devlin.

A large majority of the Irish Volunteers followed Redmond’s call. In all, 206,000 Irishmen fought in the British forces during World War I. Of these, 58,000 had already enlisted in the army or navy before the war broke out. Half of the Irishmen who enlisted in the first year were from what is now the Republic of Ireland; the other half from what is now Northern Ireland. It was the greatest deployment of armed manpower in Irish military history.

The dead of World War I remembered in panels on the south porch in Saint Canice’s Cathedral, Kilkenny (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Some of Redmond’s Volunteers enlisted in regiments in the 10th and 16th Divisions, while many members of the Ulster Volunteer Force joined regiments in the 36th (Ulster) Division. However, most Irish recruits lacked military training to become officers, and with the exception of Major-General Sir William Bernard Hickie, from Terryglass, Co Tipperary, the 16th was led by English officers.

The 10th Division was the first Irish Division to take part in the war, under the command of General Sir Bryan Mahon, from Belleville, Co Galway. This division was sent to Gallipoli and took part on 7 August 1915 in the disastrous landing at Cape Helles and the August offensive. Irish battalions suffered extremely heavy losses among the Royal Munster Fusiliers, and the Royal Dublin Fusiliers. From Suvla, the division was moved in September to Thessaloniki, where it remained for two years.

The Royal Irish Regiment recalled in a plaque in Saint Canice’s Cathedral, Kilkenny (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

In September 1917, the 10th moved to Egypt and fought in the Third Battle of Gaza, which broke Turkish resistance in southern Palestine. In 1918, the division was split between the Middle East and the Western Front.

The 16th Division spent most of World War I on the Western Front. At the 2nd Battle of Ypres in May 1915, the 2nd Royal Dublin Fusiliers were nearly wiped out as a result of a German-initiated poison gas attack. Until March 1916, the 16th was commanded by Henry Wilson, who had called them “Johnnie Redmond’s pets.” Hickie, who replaced Wilson, called them as “riff-raff Redmondites,” but was more diplomatic and tactful and later spoke with pride of his command.

In July 1916, the 16th suffered heavy casualties at the Somme. The battle began early on 1 July 1916 and the day ended with a total of 60,000 allied casualties, of whom 20,000 were killed in action. The 36th (Ulster) Division suffered 5,500 casualties and 2,000 of these were killed in action. The 1st Royal Dublin Fusiliers fought next to the 36th and counted 147 casualties – 22 killed and 64 missing in action. The 2nd Royal Dublin Fusiliers lost 14 of their 23 officers, and 311 out 480 in other ranks.

The battle continued until the following November. The former MP Tom Kettle, a barrister and Professor of Economics at UCD, was among those killed at the Somme. Irish soldiers also fought at the Somme in the Royal Irish Rifles, Royal Irish Fusiliers, Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers, Royal Irish Regiment, and four battalions of the Northumberland Fusiliers.

The pulpit in Saint Iberius’s Church, Wexford, serves as a World War I memorial (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

In 1917, the 16th fought at the Battle of Messines alongside the 36th (Ulster) Division, and at Passchendaele and Ypres. Messines saw the largest-ever concentration of Irish soldiers on a battlefield. Among those killed in the advance was John Redmond’s 56-year-old brother, Major Willie Redmond. By mid-August, the 16th counted over 4,200 casualties and the 36th had almost 3,600 casualties, or more than 50 per cent of its numbers. The losses were so heavy that when the 16th was reconstituted in England the only original battalion left was the 5th Royal Irish Fusiliers.

The 36th included three existing Irish regiments: the Royal Irish Fusiliers, the Royal Irish Rifles and the Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers. The division fought on the Western Front throughout the war, and included men from all nine counties of Ulster. Apart from the Somme, the division’s other battles included Cambrai, Messines and two at Ypres (1917), Ypres (1918).

Irish regiments and VCs

Some of the names of the war dead on a memorial cross in Bray, Co Wicklow (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Irish regiments in the British army also included the Connaught Rangers, the Leinster Regiment, the Royal Dublin Fusiliers, the Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers, the Royal Irish Fusiliers, the Royal Irish Regiment, the Royal Irish Rifles and the Royal Munster Fusiliers. In addition, there were Irish regiments based outside Ireland, including the Royal Irish Dragoon Guards, the King’s Royal Irish Hussars, the Queen’s Royal Irish Hussars, the Irish Guards, the Liverpool Irish, the London Irish Rifles, the Royal Irish Artillery, the Royal Irish Lancers, the Royal Irish Rangers, the Tyneside Irish Brigade, the Royal Irish Regiment and the London Irish.

The war memorial in the churchyard at Saint John the Baptist in Clontarf, Dublin (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

In all, there were 37 Irish VCs in World War I. Lieutenant Maurice Dease from Coole, Co Westmeath, was the first British soldier to be awarded the VC on 23 August 1914, the first day of engagement by the British army. He was killed as he continued to operate a machine gun despite being shot four times at the Battle of Mons.

One of the last Irish VCs was Sergeant-Major Martin Doyle from New Ross, Co Wexford. He was awarded a VC in September 1918, but later he fought in the War of Independence.

A World War I memorial near the centre of Drogheda (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

By the end of the war, the attitude at home towards Irish soldiers in the British army had changed completely in the aftermath of the Easter Rising in 1916. The poet Francis Ledwidge, who died at Ypres in 1917, wrote after the Easter Rising: “If someone were to tell me now that the Germans were coming in over our back wall, I wouldn’t lift a finger to stop them. They could come!”

The war memorial in the centre of Cork (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

The Armistice on 11 November 1918 brought an end to World War I. But the war also brought about the fall of the German, Russian, Austro-Hungarian and Ottoman empires, and the map of Europe was redrawn.

When the Irish divisions were demobilised, about 100,000 veterans returned to Ireland. But another 70,000-80,000 never returned home. There was high unemployment in Ireland, and the rising militant nationalism was hostile to the men who had served in the British forces.

Counting the dead

All Saints’ Church, Grangegorman, Dublin (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Saint Michan’s Church, Church Street, Dublin (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Powerscourt Parish Church, Enniskerry, Co Wicklow (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

The number of Irish deaths is officially recorded as 27,405. However, the numbers may be higher, and the National War Memorial at Islandbridge in Dublin is dedicated “to the memory of the 49,400 Irish soldiers who gave their lives in the Great War, 1914-1918.”

In 1927, the Irish government donated £50,000 in 1927 towards a Great War Memorial. But it was located in Islandbridge, outside the city centre, rather than in Merrion Square. It was not until 2006, on the 90th anniversary of the Somme, that the Irish state held an official commemoration for the Irish dead of World War I.

The Cenotaph in Whitehall is in the heart of London ... (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

... but the Irish National War Memorial at Islandbridge was erected miles from the city centre (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Canon Patrick Comerford is Lecturer in Anglicanism, Liturgy and Church History, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute. This essays and these photographs were first published in July 2014 in the Church Review (Dublin and Glendalough) and the Diocesan Magazine (Cashel, Ferns and Ossory).

22 June 2014

When God hears the voice of a child
and the voice of an abandoned mother

‘Hagar and Ishmael at the Well’ (1842) by Marshall Claxton (1813-1881), York Museums Trust

Patrick Comerford,

Sunday 22 June 2014

The First Sunday after Trinity

10 a.m.,
Saint Michan’s Church, Dublin, Holy Communion 2.

Readings: Genesis 21: 8-21 or Jeremiah 20: 7-13; Psalm 86: 1-10, 16-17 or Psalm 69: 7-10, [11-15], 16-18; Romans 6: 1b-11; Matthew 10: 24-39.

May I speak to you in the name of God, + Father, Son and Holy Spirit, Amen.

Last week, we had a very lengthy Old Testament reading in our churches, describing God’s work of creation, and telling us how God saw all of creation to be good (Genesis 1: 1 to 2: 4a), and it was followed by a Gospel reading telling us to go out into that beautiful word with the message and mission of God’s love for all creation (Matthew 28: 16-20).

They were joyful messages for Trinity Sunday [15 June 2014], and I received beautiful presents to mark Father’s Day in Saint Werburgh’s Church and All Saints’ Church –reminders in this parish that the love in the Church can reflects God’s love and that the love of God sustains God’s creation.

But the joy of last week’s readings and celebration is in sharp contrast to what seem to be very sad and gloomy readings this morning. If we could see last Sunday as a Happy Father’s Day, then this Sunday appears to be a Sorrowful Mother’s Day.

In the Old Testament reading (Genesis 21: 8-21), Hagar and her son are abandoned in the wilderness. It appears to be a story of cruel marginalisation and exclusion of a young mother and her helpless child.

In the Gospel reading (Matthew 10: 24-39), family divisions and the cruelty that only family members can inflict on one another are brought to the fore again.

Where do we find the love of God in these Bible readings, and where is the love of God to be found in the Church today?

Hagar and Ishmael abandoned in the wilderness (Source)

I imagine the story in our Old Testament reading is being heard with shock, dismay and a sense of cruelty by many women throughout Ireland this morning, as they think of their children and wonder what has happened to them.

Sarah is an old woman, worried that her husband Abraham has no children to inherit his name and his wealth. So, at Sarah’s own suggestion, Abraham has a child with Hagar.

Ishmael is Abraham’s first-born child, and is somewhat older than Sarah’s own son, Isaac. Sarah is not jealous of Abraham and Hagar. But when she sees Ishmael playing with Isaac, she worries about Isaac’s future and inheritance.

At Sarah’s demand, Abraham takes Hagar and Ishmael into the wilderness and abandons them, leaving only a small supply of water, not knowing what is going to happen to them, but believing he is doing what God has told him to.

Imagine the plight of this abandoned woman. The man she once had a child for has cast her aside, left her and her child, apparently not caring whether they live or die.

How often have similar things happened, even in recent years, in Irish society?

Until recent decades, Irish families, worried about the way a woman in the family conceived, sent her away. But, unlike Hagar, they were often sent away even before they gave birth. They were abandoned in so-called ‘Mother and Baby’ homes, county homes and Magdalene laundries in every county in this land.

So often not just the Church but society at large moralised about these women and sent them into isolation, not worrying how they would survive or about the future facing their children.

Families often remained silent in the face of these great and grave injustices. But silence did not always mean acceptance or acquiescence. It was a shameful time, where shame was transferred unto young and vulnerable women, when the real shame lay with those who exercised control in this way on behalf of all society.

Silently, many sisters, mothers, and to be honest, fathers and brothers too, grieved in their hearts at this harsh judgment, this immoral moralising.

And even today, to speak out about what has happened divides families, communities and societies. A deep, searing division that makes it easy to understand Christ’s apocalyptic warning in this morning’s Gospel reading: “For I have come to set a man against his father, and a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law; and one’s foes will be members of one’s own household” (Matthew 10: 34-36).

In the history of Judaism and of Christianity, there have been complicated, tortuous efforts to justify Abraham’s gross injustice towards Hagar.

The Apostle Paul makes Hagar’s experience an allegory of the difference between law and grace (see Galatians 4: 21-31). But he is not passing judgment on either Hagar or Sarah; he is simply using them as examples to illustrate a point he is making about law and grace, whether we should live by the letter or live by the spirit of our spiritual and religious values.

Later, Saint Augustine said Hagar symbolises an “earthly city,” or the sinful condition of humanity (see Augustine, City of God 15: 2).

Yet Hagar committed no sin, did nothing wrong, for she only did what Sarah and Abraham had suggested. Certainly, her child Ishmael was innocent beyond doubt when they were both abandoned to seemingly certain death.

Augustine’s view was built on by Thomas Aquinas and by John Wycliffe, who compared the children of Sarah to the redeemed, and those of Hagar to the unredeemed, who are “carnal by nature and mere exiles.”

Surely if Hagar was “carnal by nature” then so too were Abraham and Sarah; yet they go without any condemnation.

The rabbis were much kinder when it came to commenting on Hagar, and often describe her as Pharaoh’s daughter.

The Midrash Genesis Rabbah says Hagar was Pharaoh’s daughter but that Sarah treated her harshly, imposing heavy work on her and striking her. It sounds so like Wednesday’s shocking analysis in The Irish Times by Dr Seán Lucey of the forced labour conditions imposed on hundreds if not thousands of women in county homes the length and breadth of Ireland from the 1920s on.

Some rabbinical commentators identify Hagar with Keturah, the woman Abraham marries after Sarah’s death, saying Abraham seeks her out after Sarah’s death. One great mediaeval rabbi suggests Hagar is given the name Keturah to signify that her deeds are as beautiful as incense and that she remains chaste from the time she Abraham abandons her until he returns for her.

So even Abraham can get things wrong, and think that when his family puts pressure on him he is listening to the voice of God.

Two of the most boring passages in the New Testament must be the genealogies of Jesus in the Gospels (see Matthew 1: 1-17; Luke 3: 23-38). Archbishop Rowan Williams reminded us at a conference in Cambridge last weekend that these genealogies tell us that God cares for each generation, including individuals who are marginalised or forgotten, as part of God’s plans for the future.

Both genealogies are almost exclusively male. But, unlike Saint Luke, Saint Matthew includes five women among the ancestors of Jesus.

Saint Matthew is anxious to prove the royal ancestry and lineage of Christ, so we might expect his choice of women to include queens, princesses, or the daughters of mighty warriors or great prophets. Instead, he names five women on the margins of society. Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, Bathsheba and Mary are seen as prostitutes, foreigners, adulterers or single mothers – certainly not the sort of women one might want to boast about in a family tree in some Biblical version of Burke’s Peerage or Burke’s Landed Gentry.

But Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, Bathsheba and Mary challenge the Jewish restrictions on marriage to Gentiles, on socially acceptable marriages and the very definition of Jewish-ness which depends on a mother’s Jewish identity. By those definitions, Perez, Boaz, or Solomon, or for that matter David and the whole line of kings of Israel and Judah could never be acceptable.

God still looks lovingly on the women we would push aside and marginalise in our families and in our society. God ignores the moralising, narrow-minded judgmentalism of society, of the religious authorities of our day, or even in our own families.

Hagar, when she is abandoned in the wilderness and the water she is left with dries up, expects her child to die, and even begins to mourn his death. Like many unmarried mothers in Ireland must have done, she lifts up her voice and weeps, crying out: “Do not let me look on the death of the child” (verse 16).

But God hears the voice of the boy; and the angel of God asks his abandoned mother: ‘What troubles you, Hagar? Do not be afraid; for God has heard the voice of the boy where he is. Come, lift up the boy and hold him fast with your hand, for I will make a great nation of him.’ Then God opens her eyes, and she sees a well of water. She fetches fresh water, and gives the child a drink. She realises now, in that almost baptismal-like moment, that God is with the boy (verses 17-20).

Hagar thirsts not just for water but for justice, truth and mercy. Her parallel in the New Testament is not Mary Magdalene, for there is not a shred of evidence to identify Mary Magdalene with a prostitute or the woman about to be stoned for adultery. Indeed, the Magdalene laundries are not only a shameful blot on our history but, ironically, they were misnamed.

Hagar’s parallel in the Gospels is the Samaritan woman at the well of Sychar (John 4: 5-42), who is also seen as living an immoral life. While the disciples refuse to engage with her or to talk with her, Christ reveals himself to her as the Living Water, and in yet another baptismal-like moment she comes to a fullness of faith that they have yet to mature into, and becomes one of the first great missionaries.

How is God working through the horrific narrative of the abandoned mothers and the babies left to die from malnutrition and curable diseases, the unloved women used as slave labour in the Magdalene laundries, Mother and Baby Homes and County Homes across this land, even in my own lifetime, in my generation?

The voice of the Church needs to be heard – not defensively but speaking out for them. We may have abandoned them as a society, but God never abandons them.

We may have misread the Bible to provide justification for society’s sins, but God never sees them as sinners. And the whole Church, irrespective of denominational boundaries, must speak with one voice saying this was never God’s judgment on these women. This was wrong, it always was, and always will be.

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

Canon Patrick Comerford is Lecturer in Anglicanism, Liturgy and Church History, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute, and a canon of Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin. This sermon was preached at the Parish Eucharist in Saint Michan’s Church, Church Street, Dublin, on Sunday 22 June 2014.

Inside Saint Michan’s Church, Church Street, Dublin (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2014)

Collect:

God,
the strength of all those who put their trust in you:
Mercifully accept our prayers
and, because through the weakness of our mortal nature
we can do no good thing without you, grant us the help of your grace,
that in the keeping of your commandments
we may please you, both in will and deed;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Post Communion Prayer:

Eternal Father,
we thank you for nourishing us
with these heavenly gifts.
May our communion strengthen us in faith,
build us up in hope,
and make us grow in love;
for the sake of Jesus Christ our Lord.