Praying with the Psalms in Lent: 12 March 2022 (Psalms 31, 32, 33)

‘Praise the Lord with the lyre; make melody to him with the harp of ten strings’ (Psalm 33: 2) … lyres in a shop front on a street in Rethymnon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Patrick Comerford

Before today begins, I am taking some time early this morning for prayer, reflection and reading.

During Lent this year, in this Prayer Diary on my blog each morning, I am reflecting in these ways:

1, Short reflections on a psalm or psalms;

2, reading the psalm or psalms;

3, a prayer from the USPG prayer diary.

‘Take me out of the net that they have laid secretly for me, for you are my strength’ (Psalm 31: 4) … a maze of fences at Lëkurësi Castle near Sarandë, Albania (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Psalm 31:

Psalm 31 was often known in English by its first verse in the Book of Common Prayer ‘In thee, O Lord, have I put my trust.’ There, it was headed with the Latin opening words, In te, Domine, speravi, and it was one of the two psalms appointed for Morning Prayer on Day 6. The first line in Latin, In te, Domine, speravi, is also the final line of the canticle, Te Deum, ‘In you, Lord, is our hope, let us never be put to shame.’

This psalm has been set to music often, both completely and using specific sections such as Illumina faciem tuam (‘Let your face shine’). Johann Crüger, Heinrich Schütz, Joseph Haydn, Felix Mendelssohn, and others, have written choral settings.

In Jewish tradition, verse 5 is part of Baruch Adonai L’Olam in the evening prayer, part of the bedtime Shema, and it starts the last verse of the traditional hymn Adon Olam:

Into his hand my soul I place,
when I awake and when I sleep.
God with me, I shall not fear;
body and soul from harm will he keep.

In addition, verses 15 and 17 are part of the preliminary morning prayers.

The four evangelists each cite the last words of Christ on the Cross, which have traditionally counted as the ‘Seven Last Words.’ Saint Luke is alone in telling us that Christ cried out a second time: ‘Father, into your hands I commend my spirit’ (Luke 23: 46), quoting Psalm 31: 5, which says in full: ‘Into your hand I commit my spirit; you have redeemed me, O Lord, faithful God.’ Tradition also says that these were the last words of Saint Polycarp, Saint Bernard of Clairvaux, the Hussite martyr Jerome of Prague, Martin Luther and Philip Melanchthon.

The Hebrew incipit at the opening of the text of this psalm indicates it was composed by David: ‘To the leader. A Psalm of David.’ Perhaps it was written by David when he was fleeing from Saul. Other commentaries suggest the author knew Jeremiah, Isaiah, Ezekiel, and many psalms of the Persian period. This would mean it was written at or after the reforms of Nehemiah ca 445 BC.

In this psalm, David calls God his ‘rock,’ his ‘fortress’ and his ‘refuge,’ guarding and protecting him on all sides, even when he feels as though a ‘net’ waits to ensnare him – either death or his enemies.

He knows his destiny depends on God, and he prays for God’s blessing:

Let your face shine upon your servant;
save me in your steadfast love (Psalm 31: 16).

‘Do not be like a horse or a mule, without understanding, whose temper must be curbed with bit and bridle’ (Psalm 32: 9) … ‘The Gaelic Chieftain’ by Maurice Harron off the N4, near Boyle, Co Roscommon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Psalm 32:

Psalm 32 tells us that happiness is found in knowing that God has forgiven us, leaving us without guilt.

The psalmist was seriously ill and in pain, which were signs of being alienated from God, ‘day and night.’ But when he acknowledged his sin, acknowledged his transgressions, confessed to God, and God forgave him.

Now he is now protected by God, and God promises to lead him, guide him and teach him, showing him mercy. For this, the psalmist is glad and rejoices, and his shouts of joy should be echoed by all who worship God.

‘The war horse is a vain hope for victory, and by its great might it cannot save (Psalm 33: 17) … horsemen on the Parthenon frieze in the Acropolis Museum in Athens (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Psalm 33:

Psalm 33 praises the Sovereignty of God in creation and in history and a song of praise.

Psalm 33 does not contain an ascription to any particular author in the Hebrew text, although the Septuagint ascribes it to David. Some manuscripts join this psalm with Psalm 32. Some commentators even suggest Psalm 33 dates from the time of the Maccabees.

We may divide this psalm in this way:

1, A call to worship in the temple with song, music, and shouting (verses 1-3), because of God’s righteousness and kindness (verses 4-5).

2, All humanity is called to fear God, the creator of all things, and disposer of all nations (verses 6-10).

3, God inspects all humanity from his heavenly throne inspects all mankind (verses 13-15); and victory is not due to armies or warriors (verses 16-17).

4, God delivers those who fear him (verse 18-19); therefore his people long for him, are glad in him, and trust in his name for victory (verses 20-22).

In addition, a gloss praises God’s plans as everlastingly secure, and also the happiness of his people (verses 11-12).

Psalm 31 (NRSVA):

1 In you, O Lord, I seek refuge; do not let me ever be put to shame; in your righteousness deliver me.
2 Incline your ear to me; rescue me speedily. Be a rock of refuge for me, a strong fortress to save me.
3 You are indeed my rock and my fortress; for your name’s sake lead me and guide me,
4 take me out of the net that is hidden for me, for you are my refuge.
5 Into your hand I commit my spirit; you have redeemed me, O Lord, faithful God.
6 You hate those who pay regard to worthless idols, but I trust in the Lord.
7 I will exult and rejoice in your steadfast love, because you have seen my affliction; you have taken heed of my adversities,
8 and have not delivered me into the hand of the enemy; you have set my feet in a broad place.
9 Be gracious to me, O Lord, for I am in distress; my eye wastes away from grief, my soul and body also.
10 For my life is spent with sorrow, and my years with sighing; my strength fails because of my misery, and my bones waste away.
11 I am the scorn of all my adversaries, a horror to my neighbours, an object of dread to my acquaintances; those who see me in the street flee from me.
12 I have passed out of mind like one who is dead; I have become like a broken vessel. 13 For I hear the whispering of many – terror all around! – as they scheme together against me, as they plot to take my life.
14 But I trust in you, O Lord; I say, “You are my God.”
15 My times are in your hand; deliver me from the hand of my enemies and persecutors.
16 Let your face shine upon your servant; save me in your steadfast love.
17 Do not let me be put to shame, O Lord, for I call on you; let the wicked be put to shame; let them go dumbfounded to Sheol.
18 Let the lying lips be stilled that speak insolently against the righteous with pride and contempt.
19 O how abundant is your goodness that you have laid up for those who fear you, and accomplished for those who take refuge in you, in the sight of everyone!
20 In the shelter of your presence you hide them from human plots; you hold them safe under your shelter from contentious tongues.
21 Blessed be the Lord, for he has wondrously shown his steadfast love to me when I was beset as a city under siege.
22 I had said in my alarm, “I am driven far from your sight.” But you heard my supplications when I cried out to you for help.
23 Love the Lord, all you his saints. The Lord preserves the faithful, but abundantly repays the one who acts haughtily.
24 Be strong, and let your heart take courage, all you who wait for the Lord.

Psalm 32 (NRSVA):

1 Happy are those whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered.
2 Happy are those to whom the Lord imputes no iniquity, and in whose spirit there is no deceit.
3 While I kept silence, my body wasted away through my groaning all day long.
4 For day and night your hand was heavy upon me; my strength was dried up as by the heat of summer. Selah
5 Then I acknowledged my sin to you, and I did not hide my iniquity; I said, “I will confess my transgressions to the Lord,” and you forgave the guilt of my sin. Selah
6 Therefore let all who are faithful offer prayer to you; at a time of distress, the rush of mighty waters shall not reach them.
7 You are a hiding place for me; you preserve me from trouble; you surround me with glad cries of deliverance. Selah
8 I will instruct you and teach you the way you should go; I will counsel you with my eye upon you.
9 Do not be like a horse or a mule, without understanding, whose temper must be curbed with bit and bridle, else it will not stay near you.
10 Many are the torments of the wicked, but steadfast love surrounds those who trust in the Lord.
11 Be glad in the Lord and rejoice, O righteous, and shout for joy, all you upright in heart.

Psalm 33 (NRSVA):

1 Rejoice in the Lord, O you righteous. Praise befits the upright.
2 Praise the Lord with the lyre; make melody to him with the harp of ten strings.
3 Sing to him a new song; play skilfully on the strings, with loud shouts.
4 For the word of the Lord is upright, and all his work is done in faithfulness.
5 He loves righteousness and justice; the earth is full of the steadfast love of the Lord.
6 By the word of the Lord the heavens were made, and all their host by the breath of his mouth.
7 He gathered the waters of the sea as in a bottle; he put the deeps in storehouses.
8 Let all the earth fear the Lord; let all the inhabitants of the world stand in awe of him.
9 For he spoke, and it came to be; he commanded, and it stood firm.
10 The Lord brings the counsel of the nations to nothing; he frustrates the plans of the peoples.
11 The counsel of the Lord stands forever, the thoughts of his heart to all generations.
12 Happy is the nation whose God is the Lord, the people whom he has chosen as his heritage.
13 The Lord looks down from heaven; he sees all humankind.
14 From where he sits enthroned he watches all the inhabitants of the earth—
15 he who fashions the hearts of them all, and observes all their deeds.
16 A king is not saved by his great army; a warrior is not delivered by his great strength.
17 The war horse is a vain hope for victory, and by its great might it cannot save.
18 Truly the eye of the Lord is on those who fear him, on those who hope in his steadfast love,
19 to deliver their soul from death, and to keep them alive in famine.
20 Our soul waits for the Lord; he is our help and shield.
21 Our heart is glad in him, because we trust in his holy name.
22 Let your steadfast love, O Lord, be upon us, even as we hope in you.

Today’s Prayer:

The Prayer in the USPG Prayer Diary this morning (12 March 2022) invites us to pray:

Let us pray for the Church of the Province of Central Africa and its churches across Botswana, Malawi, Zambia and Zimbabwe.

Yesterday’s reflection

Continued tomorrow

‘Sing to him a new song; play skilfully on the strings, with loud shouts’ (Psalm 33: 3) … street art near Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible: Anglicised Edition copyright © 1989, 1995, National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide. http://nrsvbibles.org

The dome in Florence changed city skylines from Rome and Dublin to Berlin and Albania

Brunelleschi’s duomo in Florence … how were the self-supporting Renaissance domes in Italy built without shoring or temporary timber centring? (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Patrick Comerford

Until the 20th century, four domes in particular graced the skyline of Dublin: the domes of the Four Courts, Custom House and City Hall, and the Russian-style copper church dome in Rathmines. But domes were difficult to build and needed highly-refined architectural and engineering skills.

The skills needed for constructing domes were brought to Torcello, Venice, Ravenna and other parts of northern Italy by Byzantine craftsmen who were reluctant to share their secrets with other building workers.

But domes eventually became popular as a status symbol for churches with wealthy patrons. In time, the word duomo in Italian became a synonym for cathedral, to the point that many people think Saint Peter’s in Rome, with its dome, is a cathedral.

The dome at Torcello … Byzantine building skills were transferred to Venice and other parts of Italy? (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Earlier this summer, in a collaborative study published in Engineering Structures, researchers at Princeton and the University of Bergamo revealed the engineering techniques behind self-supporting masonry domes that are part of the Italian Renaissance.

They analysed how cupolas like Brunelleschi’s duomo in Florence and later self-supporting Renaissance domes were built without shoring or the usual temporary timber centring.

James Gandon’s dome at the Custom House in Dublin was rebuilt after the Irish Civil War (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

* * *

Professor Sigrid Adriaenssens of Princeton collaborated with a graduate student Vittorio Paris and Professor Attilio Pizzigoni of the University of Bergamo. Their study is the first ever to quantitatively prove the physics at work in Italian Renaissance domes and to explain the forces that allow such structures to have been built.

Previously, there were many hypotheses about how forces flowed through such constructions. But no-one really knew how they were built.

Now these researchers have found that the brickwork of the inner domes incorporated a ‘cross-herringbone pattern,’ lines of staggered, vertical bricks that extended diagonally across the curvature of the dome. These lines repeatedly crossed each other, forming diamond shapes, and were filled in with horizontal courses of bricks.

The copper dome in Rathmines … said to have been made in Glasgow for an Orthodox church in St Petersburg before the Russian Revolution (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

For Professor Adriaenssens, the project advances two significant questions. ‘How can mankind construct such a large and beautiful structure without any formwork – mechanically, what’s the innovation?’ she asks. Secondly, ‘What can we learn?’ Is there some ‘forgotten technology that we can use today?’

Their detailed computer analysis accounts for the forces at work down to the individual brick, explaining how equilibrium is leveraged. Their tests verify the mechanics of the structures and make it possible to recreate the techniques for modern construction.

The researchers anticipate their study could increase worker safety, enhance construction speed, reduce building costs and yield environmental benefits. ‘The construction industry is one of the most wasteful ones, so that means if we don’t change anything, there will be a lot more construction waste,’ said Dr Adriaenssens.

‘Overall, this project speaks to an ancient narrative that tells of stones finding their equilibrium in the wonder of reason,’ said Professor Pizzigoni. ‘Nothing is more moving than reading the lightness of the heavens in stone, in absolute and simple form such as that of the Florentine cupola.’

The dome inside an Orthodox church in Crete … domes are a central feature of Byzantine-style churches (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

The dome of the New Synagogue in Berlin … symbolic of Jewish confidence in 19th century Germany (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Blue church domes are synonymous with many Greek islands. The dome was adapted by Muslims from Byzantine architecture and became part of the design of mosques throughout the Islamic world.

Inside the dome at the Irish Islamic Centre in Clonskeagh (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

A new-found confidence in Jewish communities across Europe was expressed in the 19th century in elegant architecture that included striking domes in new synagogues in Berlin, Bratislava, Budapest, Florence and Rome. The most eye-catching dome in recent Dublin architecture is at the Irish Islamic Centre in Clonskeagh. Who knows, in time we may see more domes on the Dublin skyline.

In multi-faith Albania

The archaeological site at Butrint … settled by Greeks, Romans, Byzantines and Venetians, it was abandoned in the late Middle Ages (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Now that I have been semi-cocooned for far too many months, I realise how much I managed to travel last year, to the point that I never got to write about everywhere I visited. Perhaps the most remote and unusual place to visit last year was the once-Greek-speaking part of southern Albania, including the town of Sarande and the archaeological site at Butrint.

I had first visited southern Albania in 2006, when I lectured on Greek history at the Durrell School of Corfu, and it was interesting to see how much has changed in less than a decade and a half.

At the harbour in Sarande … tourism has opened Albania to the outside world (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

We crossed the once heavily-mined, narrow straits (14 km) that separate Corfu from Albania in less than an hour, and in those pre-Covid 19 days the checks were minimal, with the barest of glances at our passports.

Sarande takes its name from the Greek Agioi Saranda, or Forty Saints, recalling the 40 martyrs of Sebaste, a group of Roman soldiers who were martyred in the year 320. Before World War II, the town was known to occupying Italians as Santiquaranta, until Mussolini changed the name to Porto Edda to please his eldest daughter.

During the Cold War, Albania was one of the most closed countries in the world, isolating itself from both east and west. In 1967, Enver Hoxha declared Albania the world’s first atheistic state.

Until the Covid-19 outbreak, Sarande was enjoying a steady growth in tourism, and Albania has become a diverse, multi-faith and pluralist society.

In classical Greek times, Sarande was Onchesmos. Albania’s first synagogue was built in Onchesmos in the fourth or fifth century by the descendants of Jews who arrived on the southern shores of Albania around 70 CE after the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem.

Albania’s first synagogue was built in Onchesmos (Sarande) in the fourth or fifth century (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

* * *

Today, the four major faith groups in Albania are the Roman Catholics, the Orthodox Church, Sunni Muslims and Bektashis. The Bektashis are little known outside the Balkans, but their importance is greater than their small numbers suggest. They blend elements of Islam, Christianity and even Buddhism in an esoteric, mystical mixture. Today, Bektashis believe they can be a bridge between Christians and Muslims.

The bells and the bell tower of the Orthodox Church of Saint Charalambos in Sarande (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

The City Mosque or Xhamia Sarande in the heart of the city is a relatively small building, with a dome and one, tall slender minaret. Its size compared with the much larger and more impressive Orthodox Church of Saint Charalambos, with its large dome and bells, shows clearly that Sarande is a mainly Orthodox city. It is said that when Saint Charalambos was martyred in the year 202, he was 113 years old.

Inside the City Mosque in Sarande (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

The church had notices outside in both Albanian and Greek, but many ethnic Greeks have left this part of south Albania – often known to Greeks as Northern Epirus – and moved to Greece.

Almost all Jews in Albania were saved from the Holocaust during World War II. It is a remarkable record that cannot be claimed in any other occupied country in Europe, and it is all the more remarkable in some people’s eyes because Albania is Europe’s only country with a Muslim majority.

Resisting Nazis in Poland

A group of Jewish people are moved from the Warsaw Ghetto by German soldiers on 19 April 1943

One city-break that has been cancelled already this year was a mid-week visit to Warsaw at the end of May. This year marks the 75th anniversary of the end of the Holocaust and World War II. Since childhood, I have been haunted by the photograph of the unnamed boy with his hands raised high as the Nazis cleared Jews out of Warsaw following the suppression of the Ghetto Uprising.

I have already visited Kraków, and I wanted to see the site of the Warsaw Ghetto and the surviving synagogues. However, this is not the first but the second time in recent years that circumstances have cancelled a planned visit to Warsaw.

Bishop Edward O’Rourke … the Polish count with Irish ancestors who as Bishop of Danzig was a vocal opponent of the Nazis

The Irish diplomat Sean Lester (1888-1959) played an heroic role as the League of Nations High Commissioner in pre-war Free City of Danzig (Gdansk), but for many Irish people the abiding Irish connection with Poland is Casimir Markievicz, the self-styled Polish count who was married to Constance Gore-Booth.

But an oft-forgotten hero in 20th century Poland with an Irish background is Edward O’Rourke (1876-1943), the first Bishop of Danzig and an outspoken opponent of the Nazis.

O’Rourke, who was known in Polish as Edward Aleksander Władysław O’Rourke, was born Eduard Alexander Ladislaus Graf (Count) O’Rourke in Minsk, in present-day Belarus. He was a member of an aristocratic family of Irish ancestry. The O’Rourkes held titles in the Russian Empire and of the Holy Roman Empire, and Tsar Nicholas I legitimised their titles as Irish counts in 1848. However, as there are no Irish counts as such, many genealogists question the origins and legitimacy of the titles.

Edward O’Rourke studied in Riga, Freiburg and Innsbruck. He was ordained priest in Wilno (Vilnius, Lithuania) in 1908, and became Professor of Church History at a seminary in Saint Petersburg and parish priest of a multilingual congregation.

After the February Revolution in Russia, O’Rourke was appointed administrator of the Diocese of Minsk and interim head of the Roman Catholic Church in Russia. With the proposed independence of Latvia, he became Bishop of Riga in 1918, but resigned in the face of calls for an ethnic Latvian bishop.

O’Rourke was then appointed titular Bishop of Canea and Apostolic Delegate for the Baltic States in 1920. Canea or Chania in Crete was once a Venetian diocese, and the title was previously held by the church historian Nicholas Donnelly (1837-1920), an Auxiliary Bishop in Dublin (1883-1920).

The old harbour of Chania … Edward O’Rourke was the titular Bishop of Canea from 1920 to 1922 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Meanwhile, the Free City of Danzig was separated from Germany under the Treaty of Versailles, and its autonomy was recognised in International Law. O’Rourke became the Apostolic Administrator of Danzig in 1922, with the title of Bishop of Pergamon, one of the seven churches named in the Book of Revelation.

He visited Co Leitrim in 1920s to research his Irish ancestry and later published a history of the O’Rourke family. When the Diocese of Danzig was formed in 1925, outside the hierarchies of Poland and Germany, O’Rourke became the first bishop.

* * *

An international crisis unfolded when the Nazis took over Danzig and tried to absorb the city into Nazi Germany. Sean Lester repeatedly protested to the Germans at the persecution of the city’s Jews and O’Rourke and Lester became personae non grata.

The two found a common affinity in their respect for human rights, their opposition to the Nazis and their Irishness. Lester recalls that on their first meeting the bishop arrived ostentatiously carrying an Irish magazine and patriotically forcing himself to smoke ‘Irish’ cigarettes over his preferred Russian brand.

When the Nazis forced Lester to leave in 1937, O’Rourke became the last independent voice in Danzig until the Nazi-controlled senate forced him to resign and he moved to Poznan in Polanad. In Poland, O’Rourke was appointed titular Bishop of Sophene, a former diocese in Mesopotamia, and became a Polish citizen.

When Nazi Germany invaded Poland in 1939, O’Rourke was on his way to Estonia. He travelled through Warsaw and Königsberg (Kaliningrad) to Berlin, and then to Italy. The Nazis refused him a visa to return to Poland and he died in Rome on 27 June 1943. He was reburied in the cathedral in Gdansk in 1972. Today, Edward O’Rourke is regarded as one of the heroes of Polish resistance to the Nazis.

A statue of Constance Markievicz in St Stephen’s Green, Dublin … her husband was a self-styled Polish count (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

This feature was first published in July 2020 in the Church Review (Diocese of Dublin and Glendalough)

Castle and bunkers are reminders of sieges of Corfu and Albania

Lekuresi Castle, on a hill above Saranda, played a pivotal role in the siege of Corfu (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019)

Patrick Comerford

Between my visit to Butrint earlier this week, and my walking tour of the religious sites in Sarnada – including the site of an early synagogue, the Orthodox Church of Saint Charalambos and the City Mosque – I took a tour of Lekuresi Castle or Lëkurësi Castle, about 3 or 4 km away from the centre of Saranda.

The castle stands on the top of the hill of Lëkurës looking directly over Saranda. Lëkurësi Castle is on a strategic hill top overlooking the town of Saranda, and south-east of the town centre.

It was built in the early 16th century by Sultan Suleiman the Magnificent, who completed the castle by 1537.

This was the same sultan who had attacked Corfu and he needed to control the harbour of Saranda and the road that connected it with Butrint. The castle was built to guard the city of Saranda against invaders arriving by boat along the coastline by boat. The region traditionally belonged to the southern part of the region of Himara.

Suleiman the Magnificent led the Siege of Corfu in 1537 in an attempt to capture the island from the Republic of Venice at the beginning of the Ottoman–Venetian War (1537-1540).

At the time, the Ottoman Empire had entered an alliance with France, in which the Ottomans would attack southern Italy and Naples under Barbarossa, and Francis I would attack northern Italy with 50,000 men. Suleiman led an army of 300,000 from Constantinople to Albania, with the objective of transporting them to Italy with the fleet.

The Ottoman fleet gathered in Avlona with 100 galleys, accompanied by the French ambassador Jean de La Forêt. They landed in Castro, Apulia, by the end of July 1537, and left two weeks later with many prisoners. Barbarossa had laid waste to the region around Otranto, carrying about 10,000 people into slavery. Francis, however, failed to meet his commitment, and instead attacked the Netherlands.

The Ottomans left southern Italy, and instead diverted their forces to mount the Siege of Corfu, then held by the Republic of Venice, in August 1537. Suleiman decided to leave Avlona for Corfu on 19 August 1537. The fleet of about 320 ships started bombarding Corfu on 26 August. An Ottoman force of 25,000 men landed on the island of Corfu. At the siege, the Ottomans were met by the French Admiral, Baron de Saint-Blancard, who left Marseille on 15 August with 12 galleys and arrived at Corfu in early September.

Saint-Blancard tried in vain to convince the Ottomans to again raid the coasts of Apulia, Sicily and the March of Ancona. But eventually Suleiman, worried by a plague mong his troops, decided to return with his fleet to Istanbul by mid-September without having captured Corfu.

The French ambassador, Jean de La Forêt, became seriously ill and died around that time. Francis I finally arrived in Italy, and reached Rivoli on 31 October 1537.

Saint-Blancard’s fleet spent the wintered in Chios until 17 February 1538. It was decided that three ships would go to Constantinople, while the rest of the fleet returned to France. In Constantinople, they were received by the French ambassador, Charles de Marillac. Hayreddin Barbarossa provided for the expenses, and the French galleys finally left on 11 April 1538 to return to Nice through Monastir.

As a consequence of the Siege of Corfu, the Venetians formed an alliance with the Pope and the Habsburg against the Ottomans. On 18 June 1538, Francis I signed the Truce of Nice with Charles V, and so abandoned his alliance with Ottomans, for the time being.

Lekuresi Castle was attacked at the end of the 18th century by Ali Pasha of Ioannina, and the surrounding areas were raided.

The remains of Byzantine frecoes in the walls of Lekuresi Castle (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019)

The castle is square in shape and has two round towers at its north-west and south-east corners. At one time, the village of Lëkurës was enclosed within the castle walls.

During the isolated regime of Enver Pasha, that closed Albania to the outside world from the 1960s to the 1980s, the bunkers and sentry lookouts were built on the slopes surrounding the castle.

These concrete bunkers can be seen throughout Albania, with an average of 5.7 bunkers for every square kilometre. By 1983, a total of 173,371 concrete bunkers had been constructed across Albania.

Now it was Albania, and not Corfu, that felt besieged.

But inside the castle wall we found much older Byzantine mosaics, perhaps moved here from a village church and with lit candles showing evidence of local devotion and veneration that had turned the alcove into a makeshift castle.

Lekuresi Castle offers commanding views of Saranda Bay, the surrounding countryside, and across to Corfu (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019)

The castle, sometimes a venue for summer concerts, offers commanding views of Corfu and Ksamil islands and of the surrounding countryside. The Castle Restaurant inside the walls also has a bar, but both the restaurant and bar were empty when we visited.

The castle is open from 10 am to 11 pm, seven days a week, and there is no entrance fee.

It takes 45 to 60 minutes to walk there from the centre of Saranda, but it is uphill most of the way. The road leading up to the castle is not in great condition and it is easier to visit the castle using a taxi, although haggling about the fare beforehand is strongly recommended.

Lekuresi Castle is open to visitors throughout the year (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019)

A ‘three faiths’ encounter with Albanian religion on the streets of Saranda

The Church of Saint Charalambos … a new, large Orthodox church in the centre of Saranda in southern Albania (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019)

Patrick Comerford

After visiting the site of the early synagogue in Saranda – one of the earliest synagogues in Balkan-Jewish history, I also visited a neighbouring church and nearby mosque.

Earlier in the afternoon, I had visited the Byzantine mosaics that survive in the 16th century hilltop Lekursi Castle, and in morning I had visited the former Byzantine basilica and baptistry further south in Butrint; this was therefore, , in every sense of the meaning, a ‘three faiths’ visit to southern Albania.

The City Mosque or Xhamia Sarandё is at Rruga Lefter Talo 167, in the heart of the city. It is a relatively small building in the traditional Albanian style, with one, tall slender minaret.

The size of the City Mosque compared with the much larger and more impressive Orthodox Church of Saint Charalambos is a clear indicator that this is a mainly Orthodox city.

The cloister-like passage on the south side of the Church of Saint Charalambos (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019)

Saint Charalambos (Ἅγιος Χαράλαμπος) was an early Christian bishop in Magnesia on the Maeander, a region of Asia Minor. His name Χαράλαμπος means ‘glowing with joy’ in Greek. He lived during the reign of Septimius Severus (193-211), when Lucian was Proconsul of Magnesia. It is believed that at the time of his martyrdom in 202, Charalambos was 113 years old.

The church had notices outside in both Albanian and Greek, also indicating that considerable Greek cultural and ethnic population survives in Saranda, although many ethnic Greeks have left this part of southern Albania – often known to Greeks as Northern Epirus – and moved to Greece.

The church was locked, however, as were the offices and school in the basement. On the other hand, the mosque was open, although there was no-one there to question our intentions as visitors.

The City Mosque in Saranda with its slim minaret (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019)

I took my sandals off and I went inside alone to spend a few moments in quiet and solitude. But I always feel that closed churches – including those in my own parish – are missed opportunities for hospitality, outreach and mission.

On the other hand, the open mosque seemed to confirm all the stories I was hearing this week of the religious tolerance and pluralism that have emerged in post-Hoxha Albania.

Enver Hoxha declared Albania the world’s first atheistic state in 1967. In a cultural revolution that mirrored events in China, the mosques of Albania’s majority Muslim population were ransacked and turned into storage depots or army barracks. Churches, both Orthodox and Roman Catholic, were torched.

Today, the four major faith groups in Albania are the Roman Catholics, the Orthodox Church, Sunni Muslims, and Bektashis. Although the Bektashis are little known outside the Balkans, their importance is much greater than their small numbers might suggest.

Inside the City Mosque in Saranda (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019)

The estimates of their size vary wildly, from 60,000 to 750,000 in Albania alone. Arguably, the Bektashis tell us much about a forgotten part of Christian history. Different sources tell different stories about their origins and identity.

The simplest explanation is that they follow a distinctive branch of Shi’a Islam, and they claim as their founder the 13th-century saint and mystic Haji Bektash Veli. His followers developed an Islamic Sufi order, with dervishes living in houses or lodges known as tekkes, each headed by a superior known as a baba.

The Bektashis are famous in Albanian history as being at the forefront of the struggle against the long period of Ottoman rule. Later, they served in the partisan forces, fighting alongside Hoxha’s communists against first Italian and then German occupation.

The Bektashis blend elements of Islam, Christianity and even Buddhism in what is an esoteric, mystical mixture. Today, they believe Bektashism can be a bridge between Christians and Muslims.

The bells of the Church of Saint Charalambos in Saranda (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019)

Albania’s first synagogue was built by an early Balkan-Jewish community

Albania’s first synagogue, built in Onchesmos or Saranda in the fourth or fifth century (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019)

Patrick Comerford

I spent most of Wednesday [28 August 2019] in Albania, visiting the coastal town of Saranda, about 14 km across the Ionian Sea from Corfu. I was on my way to the remains of the ancient city of Butrint, a UNESCO World Heritage site.

It was 13 years since I visited Saranda and Butrint in 2006, and it is so obvious today that Saranda is experiencing a steady growth in the tourist sector. Saranda is known for its archaeological sites, and also has a large Greek population and is seen as one of the two centres of the Greek minority in Albania.

Saranda derives its name from a Byzantine monastery, Agioi Saranda (Άγιοι Σαράντα), meaning the ‘Forty Saints,’ in honour of the Forty Martyrs of Sebaste. Under Ottoman rule, it became known in Turkish as Aya Sarandi and then Sarandoz.

Because of Venetian influence in the region, it often appeared under its Italian name Santi Quaranta on Western maps. During the Italian occupation of Albania in World War II, Mussolini changed the name to Porto Edda, in honour of his eldest daughter. Following the restoration of Albanian independence, the city once again became Saranda.

But in antiquity, the city was known by the Classical Greek name of Onchesmos (Ὄγκησμος). It was a port-town of Chaonia in ancient Epirus, opposite the north-west point of Corfu) Corcyra, and the next port along the coast to the south of Panormus.

Two mosaic pavements point to the presence of one of the earliest Balkan-Jewish communities (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019)

On my return from Butrint on Wednesday afternoon, I spent some time in Saranda at the site was the home to Albania’s first synagogue, built in Onchesmos in the fourth or fifth century. It is thought that it was built by the descendants of Jews who arrived on the southern shores of Albania around 70 CE, following the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem.

This was one of the earliest Balkan-Jewish communities. However, the synagogue in Onchesmos did not last long, and was supplanted by a church in the sixth century.

The ruins of the fifth-century synagogue in the heart of Saranda, close to the city hall, have been excavated by archaeologists in recent years. There are four floor mosaics, which are normally covered with sand to protect them, although there are photographs on the walls.

The first excavations at the site were conducted 35 years ago in 1984, when Albania was under the strict rule of Enver Hoxha’s Communist regime. However, the remains of the synagogue only came to light in recent years during joint excavations carried out by the Albanian Academy of Sciences and the Hebrew University Institute of Archaeology.

The archaeologists found that the synagogue underwent various periods of use, including its conversion into a church at its last stage. Particularly noteworthy among the finds are two mosaic pavements. At the centre of one of them is a menorah or seven-branched candelabrum, flanked by a citron or lemon, as well as a ram’s horn – all symbols associated with the Jewish holidays.

The other mosaic pavement includes a variety of animals, trees, and symbols alluding to Biblical lore.

The archaeologists also found a structure that may have been the aron hakodesh or holy ark to hold the Torah scrolls.

The archaeologists also found other mosaic pavements that pre-date the building of the synagogue. These old ruins represent what was once a community centre and old school used for Bible studies. During the sixth century, the buildings were converted into a basilica, but this was later destroyed, either by an earthquake or by Slavic invaders.

Although there are official opening times and entry fees, the gates were left open yesterday, but there was nobody there to charge for admission or to show me around. In coming years, archaeologists hope to continue excavations and investigate other parts of the synagogue that remain covered by modern buildings and streets.

Archaeologists hope to continue excavations and investigate other parts of the synagogue site now covered by modern buildings and streets (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019)