Patrick Comerford

Searching for Private Daniel Commerford of Dundela

2012-01-28T12:00:00.000Z

Private Daniel Commerford's letter from the trenches in France to his Rector at home in Belfast (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2012)

Patrick Comerford

My friend and colleague, Dr Susan Hood of the Representative Church Body Library in Dublin, is trying to find any descendants of a Daniel Commerford who was a parishioner of Saint Mark’s, Dundela, in east Belfast during World War I, and who served on the Western Front.

She recently unearthed a letter from Daniel Commerford from the Western Front to his rector in East Belfast. And the search for Daniel Commerford is tantalising for anyone interested in Church history, military history, family history and the history of English literature.

In 1918, this Daniel Commerford wrote from the Western Front to the Rector of Dundela, the Revd Arthur Barton, thanking him and the parish for a Christmas parcel they had sent to him in France. [1]

Saint Mark’s, Dundela … the parish church of Daniel Commerford and CS Lewis

The letter from France, dated 2 February 1918, does not give Daniel Commerford’s regiment. But it provides telling evidence of Arthur Barton’s pastoral care to the families left at home by officers serving at the front. In that letter, Private Commerford, who signs himself “one of your parishioners,” refers to Barton’s “visit to my house,” and expresses his regret that he missed seeing his rector before leaving for the front.

Commerford explains that he had to leave “a day earlier than I thought I would have too [sic],” and so did not get to say goodbye.

The letter reads:

2/2/18

France

Rev Sir,

Just a few words to thank you and the Parishioners of St Mark’s for your comforts.

Parcel which I received quite safe on 30th Jan. It is very good of you indeed to think of us all out here and we so deeply appreciate it. I was so very sorry to have missed seen you on your visit to my home as I left a day earlier than I thought I would have too, again thanking you. I remain,

Rev Sir,

One of your parishioners,

Pte D. Commerford

Private Daniel Commerford’s signature on his letter from France to the Revd Arthur Barton in Belfast (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2012)

The parish registers in Dundela record that Daniel Commerford was living in New Street and a coachman, while a search of the 1911 Census online found only one possible D. Commerford living in Belfast. That Daniel Commerford was living in House No 37, Ballymacanallen (Tullylish), Co Down).

The census indicates this Daniel Commerford was a coachman. He was born in Oxford and was aged 31 years in 1911, making him 38 by 1918. He was married to Edith (then aged 29, and born in Co Down), and in 1911 they had three children, from the ages of six down to one: Arthur (6), Habert [? recteHerbert] (4), and Margaret (1), all members of the Church of Ireland.

The Revd Arthur Barton of Saint Mark’s, Dundela … later became Bishop of Kilmore and Archbishop of Dublin

Daniel Commerford’s letter is one among a collection of letters sent by ten soldiers who were parishioners in Dundela that came to light and has been catalogued in the Representative Church Body Library, Dublin, the principal repository for the Church of Ireland’s written heritage. “While other letters that were written from the Front are found in other repositories and in private custody, the survival of a collection in a parish context is rare,” says Dr Hood.

The parish of Dundela was formed in 1876, the first “modern” parish to be created in the growing suburbs of rapidly expanding east Belfast in the second half of the 19th century. Saint Mark’s Church was built in a prominent position on the crest of Bunker’s Hill, on the main Holywood Road going towards the Bangor Road.

The church was designed by the English Tractarian architect, William Butterfield, and was consecrated on 22 August 1878. The church’s distinctive sandstone bell-tower could once seen all over Belfast and whilst continues to be a conspicuous landmark.

At the beginning of the 20th century, Dundela parish had a varied and interesting social profile, representative of Belfast’s diverse and growing population. Carved originally from the wealthy parish of Holywood, where many prominent Belfast families had their houses and villas, Dundela had its share of leading merchant and manufacturing families, a growing number of professional lawyers and doctors who tended to run the business side of parochial life through the select vestry and parish committee.

The social diversity of Dundela was enriched by numerous working class families linked with Belfast’s factories, mills and shipyards, and many of them lived in the village of Strandtown, nearer to Knockbreda parish from which the parish of Dundela had been carved. In the history of the parish, St Mark’s, Dundela, 1878–1978 (Newtownards, 1978), Professor JC Beckett says the parish origins lie in meeting the spiritual needs and religious teaching of these families.

By 1914, on the eve of the World War I, Dundela parish about 450 families, many of them living in Strandtown. The Revd Arthur Barton was appointed to Dundela just four months before the outbreak of World War I. During the war, he cut a dashing figure In Dundela as he cycled around the parish, visiting and supporting families missing their loved ones and trying to encourage a wider spirit of community among those left behind.

In March 1918, the parish magazine recorded that “several letters have been received from parishioners in France, thanking the congregation for the New Year presents and saying how useful they were in the winter weather.”

The letters provide poignant descriptions of the realities of World War I and its impact on the lives of families in one Belfast parish. All ten letters were written between the end of January and late February 1918, and probably relate to parcels sent before Christmas.

The Rector of Dundela, the Revd Arthur Barton (1881-1962) had been a curate in Saint George’s, Hardwick Place, and Howth, Co Dublin, before moving to Belfast in 1912 as head of the TCD Mission (1912-1914), working in the working class areas of Crumlin and the Shankill. He was Rector of Dundela from 1914 to 1925, and later served as Rector of Bangor (1925-1930), when he was also Archdeacon of Down, and then became Bishop of Kilmore (1930-1939) and Archbishop of Dublin (1939-1956).

The file of his personal papers from his time as rector reveals many of his activities, including a parcel scheme of comforts sent to soldiers from the parish fighting at the Front in late 1917. The details of this scheme are revealed in the letters of thanks sent back to the rector and parishioners from ten of those soldiers. Each letter reveals that the men deeply appreciated their comfort parcels and the thoughts of people at home. Barton felt the letters important enough to keep together in an envelope marked simply “Soldiers’ Presents.”

Dr Hood says it is remarkable that the letters have survived. They were found in the basement of Kilmore See House, outside Cavan town, as part of a much larger volume of diocesan papers. Barton had lived in the house when he was Bishop of Kilmore (1930-1939). He had taken the papers with him from Belfast, but it is not clear why he did not take them with him again when he moved to Dublin as archbishop in 1939. The letters remained buried in a cupboard in Kilmore See House until the archives in the house were transferred to the RCB Library in Dublin in 2007.

Commerford was older than the other nine letter writers. Taken together, these letters provide poignant descriptions of the realities of World War I and its impact on the lives of families in one Belfast parish. All ten letters were written between the end of January and late February 1918, and probably relate to parcels sent before Christmas.

CS Lewis … also a parishioner of Saint Mark’s Church

Dundela is also of interest as the home parish of CS Lewis (1898-1963), who is best remembered today for the Screwtape Letters. CS Lewis had been baptised in Saint Mark’s Church in 1899 by his maternal grandfather, the Revd Thomas Hamilton, then rector of the parish; his father, Albert Lewis, a solicitor, was originally from Cork.

By 1911, when Daniel Commerford was living in Dundela, Lewis had been sent to school in England, and was a pupil at Barton’s old school in Watford, Wynyard School, from 1908. He returned to Dundela after Barton became Rector of Saint Mark’s in 1914, and refers affectionately to Barton in his autobiography.

In 1917, Lewis left University College Oxford to volunteer in the British army and was commissioned in the Somerset Light Infantry. He arrived at the front line in the Somme Valley in France on 19th birthday, and experienced trench warfare.

On 15 April 1918, two months after Daniel Commerford wrote to Barton, Lewis was wounded and two of his colleagues were killed by a British shell falling short of its target. On his recovery in October, he was sent to Andover. He was discharged in December 1918, and soon returned to Oxford, receiving a first in Greats in 1922 and a first in English in 1923.

Oxford, described by Matthew Arnold as the “city of dreaming spires” … Daniel Commerford and CS Lewis had very different experiences of Oxford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Did Daniel Commerford and CS Lewis ever know one another?

Did they ever share their reminiscences of Arthur Barton?

Did they ever talk about their very divergent experiences of Oxford?

Did they ever meet in France?

Do Daniel Commerford’s children have any living descendants?

Dr Hood’s research shows that Commerford and the nine other letter writers appear to have survived World War I, although the year in which they wrote, 1918, was the most costly in terms of British and Irish casualties. The names of 31 men from the parish who died during World War I are recorded on the 1914-1918 memorial in St Mark’s, but none of the letter writers is among them. Further research by Dr Hood at the Somme Heritage Centre in Newtownards, Co Down, shows that none of the ten Dundela soldiers was killed in the war.

“We must conclude that all the letter writers made it safely back from the Front to reconstruct their lives. It may yet be possible to trace their story thereafter using other archival sources – a story to be continued.”

Dr Hood first told the full story of the letters in Irish Archives, the Journal of the Irish Society for Archives vol 17 (2009). But all these questions remain unanswered. She would like to find any living relatives of Daniel Commerford, adding: “I would be very grateful, as we would like to share with them the content of the letter.”

[1] Letter No 4, from Daniel Commerford, RCB Library, D3/11/9.3.3.

Change at St Patrick’s

2012-01-28T06:30:00.000Z

Today’s edition of The Irish Times [28 January 2012] carries the following editorial comment:

Change at St Patrick’s

THE DEAN of St Patrick’s Cathedral, Dublin, the Very Rev Robert MacCarthy, retired on Wednesday, following a blistering farewell sermon on Sunday in which he was less than delicate in his criticism of all he had crossed swords with since his election 13 years ago. While he raised some legitimate questions about relations between the Christian churches, ecumenical progress may require a more nuanced approach.

The cathedral chapter and board will want to relegate much of what was said last Sunday to the annals and archives as the chapter begins the immediate task of searching among its own members for a new dean they must hope will be a worthy successor to not only Jonathan Swift but other great deans such as William King and Adam Loftus.

During the tenure of Dean Victor Griffin, the cathedral had a warm place in the hearts of inner-city Dubliners. But St Patrick’s is also a unique institution in the Church of Ireland, serving not as a diocesan cathedral but as a national cathedral, with a chapter that represents all 12 dioceses, North and South. With this unique role, it ought to embody the Church of Ireland’s engagement and interaction with the life of the nation.

The dean may only be chosen from among current, serving chapter members or canons – an all-male body of over two dozen canons. This limits their choice as they seek a new dean with the necessary vision, generosity and true qualities of spirituality.

The first task of the next dean must surely be to mend the many breaches in the cathedral close and to restore trust and confidence with the chapter, the cathedral board and members of the congregation.

This means the new dean must have innate pastoral skills, a true ability to listen to people, and an approach to cathedral life that is collegiate, hospitable and inclusive. Naturally, the new dean must be gifted in liturgy, music and administration, and be learned, scholarly and inspirational. But he must also have a passion to represent Saint Patrick’s to the whole Church of Ireland, to the wider church in general, and to the whole community so that the cathedral once again becomes a truly national cathedral for the whole island.

Electing a dean who falls short in these expectations will have serious consequences for St Patrick’s, for if it fails in its role of allowing the church to speak to the nation and the nation to speak to the church it has lost its sense of mission and vision.

Searching for an old house and listening to an old maestro

2012-01-27T21:27:00.010Z

Walking along the beach in Kilmuckridge, Co Wexford, this afternoon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2012)

Patrick Comerford

As dusk fell on Wexford town this evening, I found myself in a nostalgic mood in High Street, looking across the rooves at the back of the new Theatre Royal to the old offices where I once worked for the Wexford People and in front of the theatre looking at the house I had once lived in.

It’s almost forty years since I began working with the Wexford People. But I was back in Co Wexford today not to take a trip down the Memory Lanes of the narrow streets of the old town, but to search for a former family home, and to have some walks on the beaches at Courtown, Kilmuckridge and Katts Strand on the east side of Wexford Harbour.

I left work early late in the morning, and two of us drove south, arriving in Courtown, 6 km east of Gorey in north Co Wexford, in little more than an hour. Despite all the warnings of heavy rain and heavy cloud cover, the sky was blue, the few clouds were white, and – although the temperatures had dropped to seven or eight – there was a crisp bite in the air that added to the refreshing feeling of this bright day.

The rubble of Invermore gives no hint of a lost story (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2012)

I was in Courtown looking for a house that was first known as Invermore when it was built in 1859. Invermore was designed by the Victorian architect Sir Thomas Newenham Deane as a house for M. Scott, the land agent of the Earls of Courtown. Later in the 19th century and in the early 20th century it had been home to the Hon George Stopford, brother of the Earl of Courtown, and Lady Mary Lloyd.

However, my interest in the house was a family association. When the future journalist and republican Máire Comerford (1893-1982) returned to Ireland from London around 1915, she moved to Co Wexford with her mother, Eva Mary Comerford (nee Esmonde), niece of Sir John Esmonde.

At first, they lived with Eva’s sister, Thomas Louis Esmonde (1864-1918) of Gorey, but they soon rented Invermore in Courtown, where they then set up a school for girls and where Máire was a teacher for a time.

We drove around Courtown for a while looking for the old house. After Máire and Eva Comerford left Courtown, the house changed hands and names over the decades, and eventually became an hotel. It was known at different times as Levuka, the Oulart Hotel, the Sands Hotel and the Stopford House Hotel.

Thinking perhaps the hotel had changed names once again, we kept driving around in circles, still hoping to find the house. Eventually, we were pointed to a heap of rubble and a clump of trees in a fenced-off field near two small housing estates.

Like most of the hotels in Courtown, the hotel had fallen on hard times, had closed, and was then demolished. Nothing is left of the stepped arches over the windows, the pyramid-shaped roof, the classical porch, the Gothic entrance arch, the elaborate fretted balusters on the main and secondary staircases with their plant and animal motifs, or the courtyard at the rear with its eclectic design executed in local red brick and the outbuildings with carved bargeboards,

The once planned apartments were never built on the site, and the rubble of a grand old house that once looked down towards the harbour and out to sea – the rubble of a house that once played a minor role in Irish architectural and political history – shows no traces of a forgotten grandeur.

The harbour at Courtown Harbour was built by the Stopford family as a famine relief project in the 1840s (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2012)

Back in Courtown, we parked above the north beach. The tide was in as far as the rocks, and we walked south and around the harbour, built in the 1840s at a cost of £25,000 as a famine relief programme by the Stopford family, Earls of Courtown. Apart from a few shops and a few strollers, the town looked deserted, many of its former seaside hotels closed and boarded up.

A deserted look at the old Courtown Hotel (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2012)

The former Courtown Hotel is on the market, but even there the estate agent’s “For Sale” sign has started to fall off the wall precariously, and the shutters on the windows have fallen away in many places.

From Courtown, we drove out through Riverchapel and Ardamine, passed one caravan park after another, with sale signs offering mobile homes and caravans for rock bottom prices.

On we went through Ballygarret, past Church pretty Clonevan Church near Cahore Point, and the wind generating farm before reaching Kilmuckridge.

Wind turbines on a ridge near Kilmuckridge, Co Wexford this afternoon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2012)

Down on Morriscastle Beach, the tide was out and the fine white and golden yellow sands stretched for miles in both directions. We were undisturbed as we walked along the shore line, listening to the waves roll and then break. Despite the low temperatures, it was possible to imagine that this was an early Spring if not a an early Summer day.

Looking across Wexford Harbour towards Wexford Town in the fading lights of the early evening (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2012)

Eventually – and reluctantly – we left, and continued along the coast road to Wexford, stopping briefly at Ardcavan, south of Castlebridge, to enjoy the view across the harbour to Wexford Town.

We parked beside the railway line on the Quays, and summer days came to mind when we placed pennies on the tracks and waited for trains to roll over them and flatten them into misshapes.

We had lunch in La Dolce Vita in Trimmer’s Lane, a broad square close to North Main Street and below the ruins of Selskar Abbey. It was a wonderful lunch, and it called for a stroll through the town’s narrow streets afterwards.

The shops in North Main Street reflected in the windows of Saint Iberius’s Church, Wexford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2012)

At one stage, I found myself catching reflections of the shops in North Main Street in the windows of Saint Iberius’s Church, and I was giving thanks for life and ministry of the late Canon Norman Ruddock.

A few moments later, I found myself in High Street, remembering balmy and youthful days filled with poetic idealism forty years ago.

Back on South Main Street, I was bought as a birthday present Leonard Cohen’s new album, Old Ideas, which was released today.

As we drove back under a star-filled night sky, we listened to new songs from the old maestro all the way to Dublin.

Looking across at the former ‘Wexford People’ offices from the back of High Street (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2012)

Lingering a little longer in Little Jerusalem

2012-01-26T20:46:00.002Z

A little corner in Little Jerusalem in Rathmines this evening (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2012)

Patrick Comerford

I was in Little Jerusalem tonight for dinner for a special celebration.

No, not Jerusalem in Palestine, but Little Jerusalem in Rathmines, where the Middle Eastern and Palestinian food is excellent.

Well, after the Chinese New Year – in Temple Bar, and Corfu – in Parliament Street, last week, it was time to reach out to somewhere else.

Two of us brought our own bottle of wine – admittedly, not our own, but a present from a student – and we made an evening of it, with a vegetarian mezze that included falafel, hummus, Baba Ghanoush, tabbouleh, olives, feta cheese and Palestinian naan or flat bread, followed by good Arabic coffee, flavoured with cardamom, and a generous helping of Qatayef, stuffed with nuts, coconut and cinnamon and soaked in rose syrup.

The place was full ... perhaps we should have booked a table earlier and lingered a little longer.

Little Jerusalem in Wynnfield Road is owned by the same people who own and run the Silk Road Cafe in the Chester Beatty Library in Dublin Castle. And they have a good takeaway menu too.

Anglican Studies 2.2: the challenges facing Anglicanism today

2012-01-26T11:30:00.007Z

The Anglican Primates at their meeting in Swords, Co Dublin, last January (Photograph: Orla Ryan/ACNS, 2011)

The Church of Ireland Theological Institute

MTh Year II

EM8825: Anglican Studies in an Irish context:

Patrick Comerford

Thursdays: 10 a.m. to 12 noon, The Hartin Room.

Thursday, 26 January 2012

2.2: The challenges facing the communion of global Anglicanism today, including the Anglican Covenant.

Part 1: The present challenges:

Paul Avis, in his recent book, The Identity of Anglicanism, concludes his chapter on ‘Anglican Ecclesiology in the Twenty-first Century’ with this assessment of the state of Anglicanism today:

“Anglicanism does indeed attempt to hold together elements that are opposed in other traditions – though not without strains. It defines itself as catholic and reformed; orthodox in doctrine yet open to change in its application. Its polity is both episcopal (and its bishops have real authority) and synodical – an unusual combination in a church that has maintained the historic episcopate. It acknowledges an ecumenical council as the highest authority in the Church, but is not opposed in principle to a universal primacy and virtually never has been. It confesses the paramount authority of Scripture, but reveres tradition and harkens to the voice of culture and science. It tries to be neither centralized nor fragmented, neither authoritarian nor anarchic. It is comprehensive without being relativistic. This interesting experiment has endured and evolved for nearly five centuries; in spite of the present difficulties, I believe it is worth persevering with.” [Paul Avis, The Identity of Anglicanism: Essentials of Anglican Ecclesiology (London: T&T Clark, 2007), pp. 168-169.]

But given the present difficulties, can Anglicanism persevere?

Indeed, we might ask, can it survive?

And what is holding Anglicanism together at this present moment?

Last week we looked at the present state of the Anglican Communion, and outlined the four “Instruments of Communion”:

Traditionally there have been four instruments of unity, now known as the “Instruments of Communion”:

● The Archbishop of Canterbury, who calls and convenes the Lambeth Conference and the Primates’ meetings, and presides at the meetings of the Anglican Consultative Council – although the ACC has its own chair and vice-chair. He is often referred to as a “focus of unity.”
● The Lambeth Conference, first called in 1867 and now meeting every 10 years – the last meeting was in Canterbury in 2008.
● The Anglican Consultative Council, formed in 1968. Its last meeting, ACC-14, was held in Kingston, Jamaica, in 2009, and the next meeting is in New Zealand later this year. The Church of Ireland members are the Revd Dr Maurice Elliott (Director of the Church of Ireland Theological Institute) and Mr Wilfred Baker, the Cork Diocesan Secretary.
● The Primates’ Meetings, which take place every two or three years. They last met in the Emmaus Retreat Centre in Swords, Co Dublin, last January [2011] and the three previous meetings were in Alexandria, Egypt (February 2009), Dar es Salaam, Tanzania (February 2007), and Dromantine, near Newry (2006).

Let us look at each of these instruments of communion, and see what are the challenges facing the communion of global Anglicanism today, and then discuss the Anglican Covenant.

The challenges

At their meeting in Swords last year [January 2011], the Anglican primates issued a number of statements or open letters expressing concerns about the situations in Zimbabwe, the Middle East, Egypt, Haiti and the Korean peninsula, and about global warming, the circumstances surrounding the murder of a gay activist in Uganda, gender-based violence, and other issues.

Many external matters received serious consideration at that meeting. But it is often internal matters – the question marks that hang over the future of the Anglican Communion – that draw the most attention. These include the following:

● The role of the Archbishop of Canterbury as the focus of unity for the Anglican Communion.
● Whether the Anglican Communion needs a central, structured institution.
● The future of the Lambeth Conference as a purely Episcopal gathering.
● The status, role or authority of the resolutions passed at the Lambeth Conferences.
● The tension between maintaining theological diversity and unity in communion.
● The possibility of a future Anglican Congress that is representative of the laity.
● Whether the future of the Anglican Communion is as some looser form of alliance or federation, what the Archbishop of Canterbury, Dr Rowan Williams, described once as a World Alliance of Anglican Churches?

The tensions within the Anglican Communion, and the questions over its future shape or survival, are also created, to a large degree, by new demographic realities.

In many ways, the Church of England and the Episcopal Church (TEC) appear to dominate the agenda, the budgets and the ethos of the Anglican Communion. But, as Professor Alister McGrath pointed out at a conference in Oxford on the “Future of Anglicanism”: “On any given Sunday there are more Anglicans attending church in the west African state of Nigeria than in the United Kingdom, the United States, Canada and Australia, taken together.”

Anglican Churches are thriving and growing in many parts of Africa and Asia. But Anglicanism appears to be in decline, numerically, in the traditional Anglican heartlands such as England, the US, Canada, Australia and New Zealand.

In the US, the decline of Anglicanism or Episcopalianism is in sharp contrast to the rise in membership of Pentecostal and Evangelical churches. As Alister McGrath claims: “The implications for the future direction of Anglicanism are momentous.”

1, The Archbishop of Canterbury:

Archbishop Rowan Williams of Canterbury … hopes for “a church that is honest about its diversity – even when that diversity seems at first embarrassing and unwelcome”

You may agree with Paul Avis that “in spite of the present difficulties,” Anglicanism “is worth persevering with.” I certainly hope you do! In his presidential address to the General Synod of the Church of England in London two years ago [9 February 2010], the Archbishop of Canterbury, Dr Rowan Williams, set out plans to introduce multiple levels within the Anglican Communion to cope with the current divisions and disputes, which are mainly expressed through the debates about women bishops, gay clergy and same-gender marriages.

He said the covenant could be approached as a way of creating divisions but avoiding schism: “It may be that the Covenant creates a situation in which there are different levels of relationship between those claiming the name of Anglican. I don’t at all want or relish this, but suspect that, without a major change of heart all round, it may be an unavoidable aspect of limiting the damage we are already doing to ourselves.” [The Church Times, 12.2.2010, pp 20-21; The Tablet, 13.2.2010, pp 6-7, 37.]

Four years ago, at the General Synod of the Church of England, Archbishop Williams expressed the hope that as Anglicans we “want to be part of a family still. And that means some dreams of purity and clarity are not going to be realised. Both [sides] have turned their backs on the fantasy of a church that is pure in their own terms, in favour of a church that is honest about its diversity – even when that diversity seems at first embarrassing and unwelcome.” [The Guardian, 11.2.2008.]

Some years ago, in an interview with Paul Handley [The Church Times, 6.12.2002, pp 14-15], Archbishop Williams was asked about future Lambeth Conferences, and spoke about the need for an Anglican Congress, which would include lay people as well.

Asked about the future of the Anglican Communion, and whether it needs “a stronger pull at the centre, that it has been too diffused and disorganised,” he answered: “I don’t think it [the Anglican Communion] needs to have a more centralised executive. That would be a mistake; it would be following a model that, on the whole, in Anglican history, we have not followed. We have seen ourselves as a federation of essentially local churches.”

He conceded that this raises questions about the role of the Archbishop of Canterbury, and whether it would be downgraded. Dr Williams went on to say: “We are now faced with an unprecedented challenge about how much of a Communion we want to be.” And he asked: “If, in ten years’ time, we were the World Alliance of Anglican Churches – an assemblage of local bodies that didn’t acknowledge these different theologies, priorities, policies – would that be a loss? And what to do about it?”

“In ten years’ time ...” Where do you think we will be then in 2012, this year?

2, The Lambeth Conference:

Canterbury Cathedral .... the Lambeth Conferences are called by the Archbishop of Canterbury

Over the generations, bishops at the Lambeth Conferences have debated many of the real social and pressing issues of the day, often issuing radical statements, for example on Socialism in the Victorian age, or on war at the height of the Vietnam war. They were able to change their views, for example on contraception and family planning, moving from an outright disapproval of contraception to openly encouraging planned parenthood.

The Lambeth Conference is a gathering of bishops, meeting every 10 years under the presidency of the Archbishop of Canterbury. There have been 13 conferences to date, between 1867 and 2008. Until 1978, the conferences were for bishops only, but in 1988 the full membership of the Anglican Consultative Council was invited too, as well as representative bishops of the Churches in Communion (the Churches of Bangladesh, North and South India, and Pakistan) joined with the bishops in the discussions, as did bishops of the Old Catholic Churches of the Union of Utrecht.

But Lambeth Conferences remain essentially gatherings of bishops only, they are deliberative and, while they claim teaching authority, they were without canonical authority and their composition does not reflect the synodical structures of individual Anglican churches or provinces.

From the beginning, Lambeth Conferences have been marked by tensions and divisions. The first Lambeth Conference was called because of crisis and division among Anglicans in Southern Africa, the Province of York refused to take part in the first conference, Dean Stanley refused to make Westminster Abbey available for the first conference, and there were later divisions over, for example, the ordination of women to the priesthood, the consecration of women bishops, and, in 1998 and again in 2008, sexuality and more particularly homosexuality.

The 14th Lambeth Conference took place from 16 July to 4 August 2008 at the Canterbury campus of the University of Kent. Before the conference, Archbishop Williams issued a pastoral letter to the 38 Primates of the Anglican Communion and Moderators of the United Churches, indicating that the emphasis should be on training, “for really effective, truthful and prayerful mission.” He ruled out (for the time being) re-opening the debate on Resolution 1.10 on human sexuality from the 1998 Lambeth Conference, but emphasised the so-called “listening process” which was to encourage diverse views and experiences of human sexuality being collected and collated under the terms of that resolution, and he said it “will be important to allow time for this to be presented and reflected upon in 2008.”

The traditional plenary sessions and resolutions were reduced, with a bigger number of more focused groups.

Attendance at the Lambeth Conference is by invitation from the Archbishop of Canterbury. When he sent out his invitations to Lambeth 2008, Archbishop Williams reminded bishops: “the Lambeth Conference has no ‘constitution’ or formal powers; it is not a formal Synod or Council of the bishops of the Communion.”

More than 880 bishops were invited to the 2008 Conference. Those notably absent from the invitation list were Bishop Gene Robinson of New Hampshire and Bishop Martyn Minns, now a bishop in the Anglican Church in North America (ACNA).

Bishop Gene Robinson … not invited to Lambeth 2008 (Photograph: Donald Vish)

Bishop Robinson is the first Anglican bishop to exercise the office of diocesan bishop while in an acknowledged same-sex relationship. Many see him as being at the heart of the current controversy in the Anglican Communion.

Martyn Minns is a former rector of Truro Episcopal Church in Fairfax, Virginia, became the leader of the “Convocation of Anglicans in North America,” a splinter group of American Episcopalians. On the other hand, the (Anglican) Church of Nigeria saw him as its own missionary bishop to the US, despite protests from Canterbury and TEC.

Six (out of the total of 38) Anglican Primates decided not to attend the 2008 Lambeth Conference because of their opposition to TEC actions in relation to homosexual clergy and same sex unions. Those Primates represent the Anglican provinces of Kenya, Nigeria, Rwanda, the Southern Cone of the Americas, Uganda and West Africa. In addition, Archbishop Peter Jensen of Sydney, who is talking about the end of the Anglican Communion, and the other bishops in Sydney in Australia, stayed away. However, the bishops of Uganda insisted that they remain part of the Anglican Communion.

The Global Anglican Future Conference, a meeting of conservative bishops in Jerusalem in June 2008, took place a month before the Lambeth Conference. Some observers saw this as an “alternative Lambeth” for those who opposed to the consecration of Gene Robinson.

The GAFCON conference primarily attracted Anglican leaders who say they are in impaired communion with much of Anglicanism, including Archbishop Jensen, Archbishop Peter Akinola of Nigeria and other bishops who saw themselves as in “impaired communion” with TEC and the Archbishop of Canterbury, including Archbishop Benjamin Nzimbi of Kenya, Archbishop Donald Mtetemela of Tanzania, Presiding Bishop Greg Venables of the Southern Cone, Bishop Don Harvey from Canada, Bishop Bob Duncan of Pittsburgh (now the ACNA Archbishop) and Bishop Martyn Minns from the US, as well as Canon Dr Vinay Samuel of India; and Canon Dr Chris Sugden of England. No bishop from the Church of Ireland attended, although the late Ian Smith of CMS Ireland was there.

The Church leaders who identified with GAFCON claim to represent 30 million of the 55 million “active” Anglicans in the Anglican Communion. However, this figure assumes the support of all Anglicans in central sub-Saharan Africa, and it is calculated on a low estimate of the numbers of Anglicans in the rest of the world. The official figure for Anglicans worldwide is 80 million.

Archbishop Williams said GAFCON did not signal disloyalty, but also said the meeting “would not have any official status as far as the [Anglican] Communion is concerned.”

The conference received significant criticism, even from some conservatives. The former Archbishop of Canterbury, George Carey, said: “If the Jerusalem conference is an alternative to the Lambeth Conference, which I perceive it is, then I think it is regrettable. The irony is that all they are going to do is weaken the Lambeth Conference. They are going to give the liberals a more powerful voice because they are absent and they are going to act as if they are schismatics.”

At the same time, Archbishop Carey once again called on the House of Bishops of TEC to commit itself to the Windsor Report, which sought a moratorium on the consecration of homosexual bishops and blessing of same-sex unions.

The Bishop of Jerusalem, Bishop Suheil Dawani, in whose diocese the conference took place, said: “I am deeply troubled that this meeting, of which we had no prior knowledge, will import inter-Anglican conflict into our diocese, which seeks to be a place of welcome for all Anglicans. It could also have serious consequences for our on-going ministry of reconciliation in this divided land. Indeed, it could further inflame tensions here. We who minister here know only too well what happens when two sides cease talking to each other. We do not want to see any further dividing walls!”

The Provincial Primate, the Bishop of Cairo, Dr Mouneer Hanna Anis, was concerned about GAFCON taking place in a diocese in his province. He advised the organisers that it was not the right time or place for such a meeting, but his advice was ignored.

Ahead of the meeting, Bishop Suheil Dawani of Jerusalem met the GAFCON organisers, including Archbishop Jensen and Archbishop Akinola, and explained his objections to the conference taking place in his diocese, and his fear for the damage it would do to his local ministry of welcome and reconciliation in the Holy Land. He insisted that the Lambeth Conference was the correct venue for internal discussions. As an alternative, he proposed, “for the sake of making progress in this discussion,” that GAFCON should meet in Cyprus, followed by a “pure pilgrimage” to the Holy Land. Despite those requests, the conference went ahead. And, while the House of Bishops of TEC had apologised in 2007 for their part in the current divisions within Anglicanism, it was evident from the principal participants in GAFCON, and even from the structure of Archbishop George Carey’s remarks, that this apology was not good enough for many conservatives.

To continue the work of GAFCON, many of those involved in it or who supported in set up the Fellowship of Confessing Anglicans.

Meanwhile, the number of bodies set up to mediate within the Anglican Communion continues to confound outside observers; parishes and dioceses within TEC and the Anglican Church of Canada continue to secede and to ask for Episcopal oversight from other Anglican Churches, including the Southern Cone, Uganda, Kenya and Nigeria. In England, the Church Society – whose Vice-President is the Irish-born Bishop of Lewes, Wallace Benn, has written to the “Global South” Primates calling on them to break fellowship with the Archbishop of Canterbury because of what they see as his false teaching on homosexuality.

At the end of 2008, theological conservatives estranged from TEC and the Anglican Church in Canada formed a separate province, the Anglican Church in North America. The bishops involved in setting up this new church included Martyn Minns and Robert Duncan, although those new groupings are currently facing disarray and internal divisions.

3, The Anglican Consultative Council:

The Anglican Consultative Council (ACC) is an international assembly of the Anglican Communion, bringing together bishops, priests, deacons and lay members to work on common concerns.

The ACC was formed following a resolution of the 1968 Lambeth Conference which discerned the need for more frequent and more representative contact among the member churches than was possible through a once-a-decade conference of bishops. The constitution of the council was accepted by the general synods or conventions of all the member churches of the Anglican Communion.

The council came into being in 1969, and it is the only one of three collective instruments of communion to have a legal identity and constitution. But is remains consultative, it has no canonical authority, and at times there have been tensions with the other instruments, as when the primates suggested the TEC and Canadian members should absent themselves from the ACC.

4, The Primates’ Meeting:

The Archbishop of Armagh is part of the primates’ meeting, but not the Archbishop of Dublin

The Primates (the senior archbishop or presiding bishop) of the autonomous Churches of the Anglican Communion have been meeting every two or three years since 1979 in consultation on theological, social, and international issues, for fellowship and for prayer.

They do not include all archbishops, and they have no constitution. Their meeting is called by the Archbishop of Canterbury for consultation, and there is no consensus yet among the primates about the nature and exercise of primacy.

The fact that the primates at their meetings have no canonical authority to act collectively on decisions may explain the frustrations that contributed to seven primates not attending the latest meeting (2011).

Patrick Comerford with the Archbishop of Canterbury at the Primates’ meeting in Dublin

Part 3: The Anglican Covenant

Ridley Hall, Cambridge, founded in 1881 … the Ridley Cambridge Draft of the Anglican Covenant was finalised there in April 2009 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

The idea of an Anglican covenant was first put forward in the Windsor Report (pars 113-120), which prosed a Covenant that would become “foundational for the life of the Anglican Communion.” Signatories would agree that “recognition of, and fidelity to, the text of this Covenant, enables mutual recognition and communion.”

Does this means that Provinces that do not sign the Covenant no longer count as part of the Communion? Until now, “mutual recognition and communion” have applied across all Anglican provinces. Would the Covenant mean withdrawing recognition and communion from non-signatories? And, if so, would the Anglican Communion would cease to consist of the 38 provinces and instead consist of the new international structure, composed only of the Provinces that sign the Covenant.

Archbishop Robin Eames of Armagh presenting the Windsor Report in the crypt of Saint Paul’s Cathedral, London, in 2004

The Anglican Covenant was first proposed by the Windsor Report after the Diocese of New Hampshire in the US elected an openly gay bishop, Gene Robinson, and the Diocese of New Westminster in Canada approved a same-sex blessing.

Opponents had no legal way to expel TEC or the Canadians. The subsequent debates led to the Windsor Report and eventually to the Anglican Covenant, which is now being debated by Anglican Provinces. The debate raises questions about whether the Covenant can achieve Anglican unity or is redefining the Anglican Communion.

The Windsor Report was produced by a commission chaired by the then Archbishop Robin Eames, was published in October 2004, and was a major topic at the meeting of the Anglican Primates in Dromantine, Co Armagh, seven years ago (2005).

The Windsor Report:

● Censured TEC for proceeding with the consecration of Gene Robinson as Bishop of New Hampshire in 2003.
● Censured the Diocese of New Westminster for sanctioning same-sex blessing.
● Criticised bishops in provinces such as Uganda and the Southern Cone for intervening in US dioceses during the crisis.
● Recommended new procedures for dealing with disagreements, including an agreed covenant to restrain unilateral decision-making.
● Recommended the arbitration of disputes by the Archbishop of Canterbury and an advisory panel.

In the responses, it was said the Windsor Report:

● Represented worldwide Anglican consensus, “rooted in scripture, engaging with tradition, while facing new challenges, thought through with as much reason as our collective and prayerful wits could muster” (Bishop Tom Wright in the General Synod of the Church of England, February 2005).
● Relied “too much on law as a solution to our problems. It would mean any province of the Anglican Communion could veto anything [the Church of England General] Synod wanted to do” (Professor David McClean).
● “Is part of a pilgrimage towards healing and reconciliation.” (Archbishop Eames).

The Joint Standing Committee of the Primates and of the Anglican Consultative Council commissioned a study paper on the idea in 2005, Towards an Anglican Covenant.

At its meeting in 2006, the Joint Standing Committee asked the Archbishop of Canterbury to establish a Covenant Design Group to further the project. This group presented its preliminary report to the Primates in Dar es Salaam in 2007.

In Dar es Salaam in Tanzania in 2007, the primates continued this process. Seven primates there were unhappy with what they saw as the failure to censure TEC or even force its withdrawal from the Anglican Communion. On the other hand, there were those within the Anglican Communion who are unhappy with the terms of the invitation issued to the TEC primus. In 2007, the Primates produced a draft covenant for the Anglican Communion – the Nassau Draft – and initial consultations took place in 2007.

A second report – the Saint Andrew’s Draft – took into account many of the submissions to the group. That draft was then sent to the member churches for further reflection, ahead of last year’s Lambeth Conference.

The Saint Andrew’s Draft, drawn up by the Covenant Design Group, proposed that the Archbishop of Canterbury would oversee a mediation process between provinces that disagree on issues such as homosexuality. It suggested that if mediation failed, contentious matters would be referred to the ACC, which would then have the power to expel a province whose policies might threaten a schism. This proposal gave the ACC more prominence in resolving disputes than the Primates, a move which has been opposed by some groups.

The draft was discussed at the Lambeth Conference in 2008 and then sent to the member Churches of the Anglican Communion.

When the Anglican primates met three years ago (2009) in Alexandria, they discussed the draft covenant, and abandoned proposals for the primates to be ex-officio members of the ACC. Interestingly, five African primates who had boycotted Lambeth 2008 were present, and both the Presiding Bishop of TEC and the Primate of Uganda shared a platform with three other primates as they contributed reflections.

The primates also asked the Archbishop of Canterbury to initiate early mediation and talks with all the disaffected Anglican represented in the Common Cause Partnership aimed at seeking reconciliation. When they discussed the draft covenant, the primates reportedly came to “a realisation of what a covenant can and can’t do about sanctions and ‘teeth’.” They agreed that punitive action was less appropriate than a framework with a clear emphasis on koinonia, and a Church’s agreement to accept limitations on its self-autonomy.

Ridley Hall, Cambridge … the Covenant Design Group met there in 2009 and finalised the Anglican Covenant now being debated throughout the Anglican Communion (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

The Covenant Design Group, which included Archbishop John Neill of Dublin, met again in April 2009 in Ridley Hall, Cambridge, and sent another draft, An Anglican Covenant - Ridley Cambridge Draft Text, for review to the ACC at its meeting in Jamaica that year. The ACC then sent that version of the Covenant to the provinces for their adoption. I expect it will be discussed at the General Synod of the Church of Ireland in Dublin this year (2011), but it may be some years before the General Convention of TEC debates it.

The covenant gives the “Joint Standing Committee of the Anglican Consultative Council and of the Primates’ Meeting, or any body that succeeds it,” the responsibility of overseeing the functioning of the Covenant in the life of the Anglican Communion (4.2.1).

The Joint Standing Committee may make ask any covenanting Church to defer a planned course of action (4.2.2). If a member church refuses to defer a controversial action, the Joint Standing Committee may recommend consequences such as a provisional limitation of participation in, or suspension from, one of the Instruments of Communion (4.2.3).

The committee may suggest that the decision of a covenanting Church continues with an action that is “incompatible with the Covenant” that this impairs or limits the communion between that Church and the other Churches of the Anglican Communion, with consequences for participation in the life of the Anglican Communion and the Instruments of Communion (4.2.5).

Each Church should put into place mechanisms, agencies or institutions to oversee the maintenance of the affirmations and commitments of the Covenant in the life of that Church, and to relate to the Instruments of Communion on matters pertinent to the Covenant (4.2.6).

Any covenanting Church may withdraw from the Covenant. Although withdrawing would not imply an automatic withdrawal from the Instruments of Communion or a repudiation of its Anglican character, it raises questions about the meaning of the Covenant, and of compatibility with its principles (4.3.1).

Recently, Archbishop Williams admitted the covenant is seen in some quarters as trying to create an Anglican executive and “for seeking to create means of exclusion. This is wholly mistaken. There is no supreme court envisaged, and the constitutional liberties of each province are explicitly safeguarded,” he said.

The current status of the Covenant

Saint Patrick’s Cathedral, Armagh ... the General Synod of the Church of Ireland agreed in Armagh in 2011 to “subscribe” to the Covenant (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2011)

The General Synod of the Church of Ireland agreed in Armagh on 13 May 2011 to “subscribe” to the Covenant, but made it clear that the Covenant does not supplant existing governing documents of the Church of Ireland.

What about the reception of the Anglican Covenant in other member Churches of the Anglican Communion?

The Church of England: In November 2010, the General Synod of the Church of England sent the Covenant to the diocesan synods for consideration. The measure is backed by the Archbishop of Canterbury and is due to come back to the General Synod for a final vote in July 2012. Bishop Michael Perham of Gloucester has expressed concern that it could be used to take “punitive action” against certain Anglicans, but he voted in favour of it out of loyalty to Archbishop Rowan Williams. Bishop John Saxbee of Lincoln said the Covenant represented “factory-farmed religion rather than free range-faith” and would only lead to a two-tier Communion.

Lichfield Cathedral ... the Diocese of Lichfield is one of the dioceses of the Church of England to approve the Anglican Covenant (Photograph; Patrick Comerford,2010)

To date, four dioceses – Lichfield, Durham, Europe and Bristol – have voted in favour of adopting the Covenant, and four – Truro, Birmingham, Wakefield and St Edmundsbury and Ipswich – have voted against. Other dioceses are still in the process of debating and voting. A total of 23 diocesan synods must approve the Covenant for the matter to return to the General Synod in July.

The Anglican Church of Australia: All dioceses are to comment on the Covenant by December 2012, and a report is to be prepared for the General Synod next year [2013], when the church is expected to “receive” rather than “welcome” the Covenant. But the Diocese of Newcastle has passed a resolution against adoption and the Diocese of Sydney has rejected the covenant.

Burma (Myanmar): has accepted the covenant.

The Anglican Church of Canada: The Covenant has been sent to the dioceses and parishes for study before being considered by the General Synod in 2013.

Japan: In May 2010, the General Synod agreed to move forward with considering the covenant, over-ruling a recommendation from the theological committee of the House of Bishops.

Mexico: adopted the Covenant in June 2010.

The Anglican Church in Aotearoa, New Zealand and Polynesia: In May 2010, the General Synod approved the first three sections of the Covenant in principle. The Covenant will be studied and brought back to the Synod in Fiji in July [2012] for final acceptance or rejection. Legal opinion is being sought on Section 4. Two Maori dioceses have rejected the Covenant, as have the Dioceses of Auckland, Waiapu and Dunedin, but the Diocese of Wellington voted for it. The Diocese of Waikato and Taranaki voted, in principle, for the Covenant. Although the final vote on the Covenant has not been taken, a vote by the Tikanga Maori indicates the Church will reject the Covenant.

The Philippines: the bishops rejected the Covenant in May 2011.

The Episcopal Church of Scotland: The Faith and Order Board advised the General Synod last year [2011] on the appropriate r processes. A final decision on adopting the covenant could be made at the General Synod in 2014, but a decision not to adopt it could be made earlier

South-East Asia: The Church “acceded” to the Covenant last May [2011] and published an explanation of its understanding of the action, which seems to go beyond the Covenant text itself.

Southern Africa: The Provincial Synod approved the Covenant in October 2010. The decision will have to be ratified next year [2013].

Archbishop Thabo Makgoba of Cape Town (left), and the Most Revd Katharine Jefferts Schori, Presiding Bishop of TEC (centre) at a USPG conference in Swanwick, Derbyshire (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2010)

The Episcopal Church: In 2009, the General Convention of the Episcopal Church (TEC) approved a resolution commending the draft Covenant and successive versions to the dioceses for study. The Covenant will be taken up at the General Convention in Indianapolis, Indiana, this year [2012]. Various dioceses have passed resolutions both for and against the Covenant. Most notable, because of its detail, is a resolution against from the Diocese of California; Eastern Oregon, Michigan and East Carolina have opposed adopting the Covenant. The Executive Council has circulated a resolution rejecting the Covenant, although that resolution may not be the one to make it to the legislative floor.

West Indies: The Provincial Synod voted to accept the Covenant in December 2009, and the Standing Committee did so in November 2010.

The debate about the Covenant:

But many questions still remain:

Will any intervention by the Joint Standing Committee, now known as the Standing Committee of the Anglican Communion, help heal the divisions or simply delay them?

Is the Standing Committee likely to become a new ‘Instrument of Communion’ within the Anglican Communion?

Will we end up with a more-closely bound Anglican Communion or a looser Anglican Federation?

Or will we end up with a two-tier Anglican Communion with two categories of membership?

When Inclusive Church and Modern Church together placed a large advertisement in the Church Times and the Church of England Newspaper, the Revd Dr Andrew Goddard replied with a lengthy, 15,000-word defence of the Anglican Covenant, “How and Why IC & MCU Mislead Us On the Anglican Covenant.” He says: “The IC/MCU statement ... pays little or no attention to the text of the covenant itself.”

Critics say they judge the covenant in the light of its potential and how it could be used once it is in place.

The most obvious disagreement is whether provinces will be subordinated to the international authorities and threatened with punishment if they do not obey.

Goddard considers this a “highly implausible spin,” although he does not say why. The Windsor Report said it was a stated aim was that a covenant “would make explicit and forceful the loyalty and bonds of affection which govern the relationships between the churches of the Communion” (para 118).

But how can we enforce true “loyalty and bonds of affection”?

Whether or not the text of the Covenant claims to be punitive, whether its framers intend it to be, or whether it can be used in a punitive manner, a province that rejects recommendations can be excluded from the Covenant’s “enhanced” relationship with other provinces and international committees. Is this enhanced relationship not the relationship most provinces already have with each other? Will there be a third tier for the truly disobedient provinces, those nearly, but not quite beyond the pale?

Does the Covenant redefine Anglicanism? Would the Covenant make Anglican Churches more inward-looking?

Every time the Standing Committee upholds an objection it will establish a new ruling, another doctrine Anglicans are expected to believe. Over time, Anglicanism may become less inclusive and more dogmatic.

The 1998 Lambeth Conference declared homosexuality “incompatible with Scripture” and the Windsor Report, faced with threats of schism, took this to mean that there is an Anglican consensus on this matter. On the basis of this presumed “consensus,” it was declared that the North American churches were out of order in consecrating a gay bishop and permitting the blessing same-sex unions.

But Lambeth conference resolutions have never had legislating powers. Yet the Windsor Report treated Resolution 1.10 as binding on Anglicanism – in effect, another component part of Anglican belief to add to the Bible, the Creeds and the Thirty-Nine Articles.

A resolution and a report quickly came to be treated as dogma. Bishop Martin Barahona, the retired Primate of Central America, said: “The Windsor Report, it’s just a report. When did it become like The Bible. The Covenant. Why do we need another covenant? We have the Baptismal Covenant. We have the creeds. What else do we need?”

The bitter controversies of the last decade have indeed been most unfortunate. The presenting issues have been ethical and theological disagreement. Can they be resolved by patient, informed ethical and theological dialogue? Or do they need to be dealt with through what some see as “ecclesiastical politics and threats of exclusion”?

What would the Anglican Covenant do?

Opponents says the covenant would enable objectors to forbid new developments.

Each of the 38 Provinces in the Anglican Communion is being asked to sign the Anglican Covenant. By signing the Covenant, a province undertakes not to introduce any new development if another Anglican province anywhere in the world opposes it – unless granted prior permission from a new international body, the Standing Committee of the Anglican Communion.

It would redefine Anglicanism.

The Covenant does not mention either the consecration of Bishop Gene Robinson or the decisions in the Diocese of New Westminster. But it imposes restrictions on any future church developments that another province opposes.

Would the Covenant establish an authoritarian leadership in the Anglican Communion?

What will happen if the Church of England signs or adopts the Covenant?

Would the Covenant subordinate once-autonomous provinces to a new international body?

The Covenant text states it affects only the relations provinces have with each other, without any effect on their internal governance. However, provinces would be to subordinate a province to the decisions of the Standing Committee of the Anglican Communion

If the Covenant is approved, would this mean that every time the Standing Committee upholds an objection it will establish a new ruling, which then becomes another doctrine Anglicans are expected to accept and believe?

Is there a danger that over time Anglicanism will become less inclusive and more dogmatic?

What about those parishes and clergy who disagree, or who simply prefer a more open-minded approach?

Classical Anglican theology seeks to balance scripture, reason and tradition, and this balance allows for new developments. However, the Covenant reduces Anglicanism’s authorities to “the Scriptures, the common standards of faith, and the canon laws of our churches,” making it more difficult to justify changes.

The Covenant would oblige provinces “to act with diligence, care and caution in respect of any action which may provoke controversy, which by its intensity, substance or extent could threaten the unity of the Communion.”

Who would decide which decisions meet these criteria? Would it encourage opponents to exaggerate the strength of their objections?

Does the Covenant subordinate provincial decision-making to the new Standing Committee and the four Instruments of Communion?

Would it hinder mission? Think of how many people say they are put off the Church by our apparent reluctance to change and what they see as the Church’s backward-looking stance on many issues. If the covenant slows down change and development, would we have created an additional hindrance to mission?

Could local ecumenical initiatives become subject to objections from Anglicans in other places who do not know or understand the local situation?

If the Covenant goes ahead, provinces not signing up to it will govern themselves in the same way as now. But signatories may, at worst, no longer count them as part of the Anglican Communion, and at best as second-class members, they would be excluded from the Instruments of Communion, and they would become “Churches in association” with the Anglican Communion.

Opponents of the covenant say that if the Covenant had been there in the past, then over the centuries there have been few changes. Think of how the Church no longer approves of slavery, but permits divorce and contraception. We have introduced new prayer books and liturgies, approved the ordination of women as priests and bishops, but some provinces still do not have women as priests and bishops. If the Covenant had been in force when these changes were introduced, other provinces would have objected.

Is there a better way to resolve disagreements?

Refusing to allow reason a role, disagreements have often led each side to accuse the other of not being true Christians.

But are disagreements within the Church always a threat to the unity of the Church?

Anglicans traditionally value the role of reason and expect to learn from other people. We have been better at staying united because we have debated our disagreements openly within the Church, without threatening schism, until a time when we reach consensus.

Can differences of opinion be freely and openly debated within the Church, in the interests of seeking truth, without invoking powers of censure or threats of schism?

Part 4: current theological developments

If there is too much emphasis on law and legalism, perhaps we could take a more optimistic approach to the future by suggesting the future of Anglicanism rests not only on these debates, but on the vitality of its worship, spirituality and theology.

There have been exciting developments in Anglican theology recently.

Some important, relevant, recent publications contributing to exciting new developments in Anglican theology include:

Duncan Dormer, Jack McDonald and Jeremy Caddick (eds), Anglicanism the Answer to Modernity (London: Continuum 2003) (right). Duncan Dormer is Dean of Saint John’s College, Cambridge, and this collection of essays is an attempt by eight Cambridge college deans and chaplains to tackle the questions of religious identity that they believe are central to the way that the 21st century unfolds, and they regard their book as a bold attempt to address the future of Anglicanism in a confident way.

Robert Hannaford (editor), The Future of Anglicanism (Canterbury Press/Gracewing, 1996). This is another collection of essays looking at the future of Anglicanism and the serious challenges facing our communion.

Paul Avis, The Identity of Anglicanism: Essentials of Anglican Ecclesiology (London: T&T Clark/Continuum, 2007). This is the most comprehensive contemporary study of Anglicanism today that is both rigorous and provocative, exploring and explaining the identity of Anglicanism.

Mark D. Chapman (ed), The Anglican Covenant: Unity and Diversity in the Anglican Communion (London: Mowbray/Continuum, 2008). This is a collection of essays from a wide range of perspectives on the proposed Anglican Covenant, with a clear examination of the structures of authority within Anglicanism.

Philip Groves (ed), The Anglican Communion and Homosexuality (London: SPCK, 2008). Canon Groves is the Facilitator for the Listening Process at the Anglican Communion Office. He has been a CMS mission partner in Tanzania and is on the council of Saint John’s College, Nottingham. In this book, bishops, clergy and lay people with a diversity of views discuss the topic that has become the focus of divisions within Anglicanism. The book was sent to all bishops ahead of last year’s Lambeth Conference.

Jonathan Clark, The Republic of Heaven (London: SPCK, 2008) ... the chair of Affirming Catholicism makes an honest assessment of his own tradition and challenges that Catholic tradition within the Church of England and within Anglicanism to face the future.

Some questions for discussion:

Alex Wright, in his Why Bother with Theology? (London: Darton, Longman and Todd, 2002) – while making strong criticisms of current theology – offers positive criticism and hope for Anglicanism. He singles out, for example, what is known as Radical Orthodoxy. Are you familiar with any of these writers or schools of thinking?

Is the Church of Ireland vital at the moment?

Has the revision of the Book of Common Prayer helped to instil new vitality in parishes and congregations?

Is the current debate in Anglicanism about sexuality or about authority?

What is the appropriate balance between the competing claims for the authority of scripture, tradition and reason?

Do you have a vision for the future of Anglicanism and the Anglican Communion, and the place of the Church of Ireland within that?

Resources and supplemental reading:

The Anglican Communion Covenant - final text.
The Windsor Report.

Paul Avis, The Identity of Anglicanism: Essentials of Anglican Ecclesiology (London: T&T Clark/Continuum, 2007).
Mark D. Chapman (editor), The Anglican Covenant: Unity and Diversity in the Anglican Communion (London: Mowbray/Continuum, 2008).
Jonathan Clark, The Republic of Heaven (London: SPCK, 2008).
Norman Doe, N Anglican Covenant: theological and legal considerations for a global debate (Norwich: Canterbury Press, 2008).
Duncan Dormer, Jack McDonald and Jeremy Caddick (eds), Anglicanism, the Answer to Modernity (London: Continuum 2003).
Philip Groves (editor), The Anglican Communion and Homosexuality (London: SPCK, 2008).
Robert Hannaford (editor), The Future of Anglicanism (Canterbury Press/Gracewing, 1996).
Bruce Kaye, An Introduction to World Anglicanism (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2008).
Kevin Ward, A History of Global Anglicanism (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006).

Next week:

3.1: State-sponsored reform of the English and Irish churches in the 16th century.

3.2: Contextual understandings (1): the emergence, role and authority of the Book of Common Prayer, the Homilies, Articles of Religion.

Canon Patrick Comerford is Lecturer in Anglicanism and Liturgy, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute, Dublin. These notes were prepared for a seminar on 26 January 2012 as part of the MTh Year II course, EM8825: Anglican Studies in an Irish context

Anglicanism 2.1: The mission of Patrick and early Irish Christianity

2012-01-26T10:30:00.009Z

Church history and the sands of time ... learning lessons from the past for today and the future (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2011)

Church of Ireland Theological Institute

MTh Year II

EM8825: Anglican Studies in an Irish context:

Patrick Comerford

Thursdays: 10 p.m. to 12 noon, The Hartin Room.

Thursday, 26 January 2012

2.1: The mission of Patrick and early Irish Christianity

Part 1: Church history: the hows and the whys

Many of you may wonder about the hows and whys of Church History, and where it fits into any programme of theological, spiritual, pastoral and liturgical training. But let me first begin by challenging some of our understandings of history:

Is the present economic, political and constitutional crisis in Ireland an historic moment for us, socially, politically or economically?

Was the papacy of Pope John Paul II historic?

Did Bertie Ahern make an historic contribution to Irish politics?

It may be too soon, too judge any of these, it may be too early. I know a Byzantine historian who says that everything that happened before 1453 is history, everything after that is politics and current affairs

What a later generation may describe as historic may not be what we see as momentous now, for it may not be seen as historic by a later generation.

Group work:

In your groups discuss and name:

● 2 important people in history;
● 2 important events in history.

Response:

There are fashions in history. Today’s fashionable studies include the history of sport, fashion, and local and family history studies. But a generation ago the fashion in history was for biographies and battles, generals and Prime Ministers. A century ago, peerages and genealogies of the landed gentry were big sellers. How many of you have dusted down your copies of Burke’s or Debrett’s lately?

Who knows what events today are shaping the future and will be regarded by future generations as historic? History is not fixed, something we can objectively set out, and that will always remain so.

We cannot all travel like Dr Who in the same Tardis, and see the past in the same light as everyone else. We construct our histories from what we think was important in the past. Our priorities today are reflected in the facts we collect, how we prioritise and emphasise them, and even by what we accept on the one hand as fact, and what, on the other hand, we question. We shape our histories by what we decide to collect and what we decide not to use at all in telling about the past.

Compare a biography of Winston Churchill and a biography of David Beckham. What would a biography of Churchill be like if it concentrated only on his clothes, his hairstyle or lack of hairstyle, and his sporting interests, and drew on interviews with his cigar suppliers and former neighbours?

Our judgment of Churchill has been different since the popular outburst of public sentiment following his death than the judgment passed on him by the electorate in the immediate aftermath of World War II. Those voters had a different idea of how history might judge Churchill.

It may be that historians in 200 years’ time decide that the great liberator of Eastern Europe or the unifier of modern Europe was not Pope John Paul II or Mikhail Gorbachev. They may have different priorities. Could it have been sport – the UEFA championships, the European Championships or the Moscow Olympics of 1980 – that did more to make Eastern Europeans more aware of the West, to open their demands, to give them a spirited approach to demanding liberation and European Union?

Who knows?

In the past we men have underplayed the importance women have played in history. Historians who have been educated in middle class schools continue to underplay the importance of sport and popular culture in transforming the everyday lives of individuals, families, communities and societies. If I sound a little absurd, remember your own background and conditioning, and remember that in 1969 war broke out between El Salvador and Honduras at a football match and 5,000 people were killed in the four-day “football war.”

Because of the conditioning of our family backgrounds and schooling, many of us think history is all about dates and battles, kings and generals. Is there anyone in this room who does not know the significance of these dates: 1014, 1066, 1662, 1690, 1798, 1916, 1927, 1945, 9/11?

Is there anybody who does not know the historical significance of Alexander the Great, Julius Caesar, Henry VIII, Napoleon, Nelson, the Duke of Wellington, Padraic Pearse, Wallace Simpson, Churchill, Stalin?

We think the way we think because of Plato, Aristotle and Socrates (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

We find it more difficult when it comes to counting in memorable moments in history – events such as the death of Socrates, or when it comes to counting among the great figures in history people who gave us ideas (Plato, Aristotle, Socrates, Luther, Marx), or people who wrote great works (Aristophanes, Cervantes, Shakespeare), or were great artists and composers (Rembrandt, Mozart, Picasso).

How many of the two people in history you named were drawn from the English-speaking world? Think again of what you said in your small groups.

And so if Pope Paul II is going to be remembered in history it may be as a figure of authority, a Pope, a man who exercised authority, who survived an assassination attempt – but perhaps not for his ideas, his theology or his spirituality.

History shapes our memories; and memories shape our sense of history. This is important for how we see ourselves today, as products of our past. And it is important for how our neighbours see us as perpetuating that legacy from the past.

Why do Church history?

Why should we study Church history on course such as this? The simple answer that is usually is that we learn lessons from the past.

Woody Allen has asked: Why does history keep on repeating itself? He says it’s because people refuse to listen the first time round.

Quite a lot of us refuse to listen not so much to history, but to the presentation of history the first time round, particularly if it is presented in a dull, boring, pedantic and condescending way. And it’s dull and boring if it’s only about dates and battles, kings and generals, a chronology listing merely dates and names, without relevance to the present.

No! History is about how we have been shaped and how we are moving into the future. History is about a legacy. And if we don’t learn from the lessons, we can’t own the good and say goodbye to the past.

In his book on Church history – Why study the past? The quest for the historical church – Archbishop Rowan Williams argues cogently that Church history deepens our present thinking and helps us to think with more varied and resourceful analogies about our present problems.

The Church depends in many areas on an understanding of its history. And so Church history is used by theologians not just to prove arguments but to clarify what we are as human beings.

Is that how you have perceived church history in the past?

Is your understanding of church history relevant to your understanding of theology?

Is your understanding of church history relevant to today’s Church?

Church history and theology:

Church history and theology … learning about the sands of time from walks on the beach (Photograph; Patrick Comerford)

You probably know by now that I try to enjoy a walk on a beach once a week ... in places such as, Skerries, Donabate, Portrane, Bray, Bettystown or Kilmuckridge.

If you live on the coast or a beach, you know that lots of flotsam and jetsam are washed up every day. Sometimes this includes living creatures, such as seal pups, baby dolphins, or even the occasional beached whale.

We could joke that the approach of the dogmatic theologian to the beached whale or baby dolphin might be to see how it breathes, how its heart beats, whether the main part of the tail is three-in-one or one-in-three, to carve it up to find and examine its component parts, and finally express surprise that it is dead.

The approach of the church historian, on the other hand, might follow this course: ask where it came from; ask which tide brought it in; ask whether this tide was influenced by the phases of the moon; ask is it like previous whales or dolphins seen on this, or neighbouring, beaches; and while going to the county library to find the cuttings for the last sighting of one these in 1927, the creature heaves a last sigh and dies.

If they systematic theologian and the church historian had co-operated, they might have first pushed the creature back into the sea, and it might have lived, and we might have more of an idea of why it lives.

Church History needs to be relevant to your faith, to your spirituality, to your worship, to your ecumenical endeavours, to your ministry and to your mission.

Let me share some examples:

The Book of Common Prayer … how does Church History inform our understanding of the development of Christian doctrine?

Church history and doctrine: Here, church history helps us understand the way doctrine has developed. For example, you may have to deal with the 39 Articles, the 1662 Book of Common Prayer, and the construction of liturgy in the past that has led to our present liturgical experiences.

Saint Giles’s Church, Cheadle, one of Pugin’s great architectural masterpieces … how does Church Histiry help us understand the arts (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2010)

Church history and art: How can we understand the great works of Leonardo da Vinci, Michelangelo or Rembrandt, the collections in the Uffizi in Florence, icons in Orthodox history, or the architecture of great cathedrals – or Pugin churches – without understanding what the artist or architect was trying to say? How can we appreciate these works without an awareness of how they shape our images of God and of Biblical figures, or culturally form our expectations of sacred space?

The Ladder of Divine Ascent … how does Church History make the great works of spirituality accessible to us today?

Church history and spirituality: Church history opens and makes accessible the writings of the Desert Fathers; the development of monasticism; how early Irish monasticism, in a short time, drew on the tradition of the East – from Pachomius, Basil and Anthony, and then spread to Europe. But how many of us know how to own much of this as Anglicans? History and spirituality have often come together for me in my pilgrimage or retreats in a monastery, such as Glenstal, Mount Athos, Mount Sinai or Patmos. But think of the opportunities of being enriched spiritually and in the tradition of the early Church on a retreat with the Augustinians in Orlagh, or with the Benedictines in Rostrevor or Glenstal.

The Cross of Nails in Coventry Cathedral … how does Church History explain our different understandings of the Cross and Salvation? (Photograph; Patrick Comerford, 2011)

Church history and our essential understanding of salvation: Much of what passes as a Protestant understanding of salvation is Augustinian, and is based not so much on Scripture as on an Augustinian reading of Scripture. And that sense it is Western as opposed to Eastern. The Eastern Church is without that emphasis on original sin, and so does not have the same emphasis on personal salvation, nor asks the same questions about justification. In the East, salvation is to be found in the Church, and so people associate salvation with going to Church and taking part in the liturgy. In that sense, Western Protestant and Catholic questions about sin and salvation have more in common with each other than we ever admit or accept. Church history helps us understand that.

Church history teaches us that the Reformation was not a unique event. There were other Reforming movements. It begs questions such as why did Francis of Assisi remain in the church, but Luther was expelled?

How does Church History help us to understand the connection between music and theology?

Church history and the other arts: The monastery played a crucial role in the development of western understandings of music, through chant and organ. In literature, Chaucer was the first person to write in modern English, and Dante was the first person to write in modern Italian. But who can separate these developments in western understanding from the spiritual and theological directions of their work?

The importance of Florence and the flowering of the Renaissance are essentially grasped through understanding the patronage of the Church. Much popular understanding today of about Leonardo da Vinci’s Last Supper comes not from the Gospels but from Dan Browne’s Da Vinci Code. But art is important in understanding theology.

When it comes to music, church history and theology, think of Mozart and Bach. Bach died in 1750, but nobody realised then what historical significance he would have – his Saint Matthew Passion was not performed until 1829, when Mendelssohn conducted it in Berlin. Yet Bach is an example of how we can do theology through music: he inscribed the scores of his religious music with the letters JJ (Jesu, juva, Jesus help) at the beginning, and SDG (Soli Deo Gloria – to God alone the glory) at the end.

Church history and our Christian neighbours:

Achill Island … how can we reconcile Catholic memories of ‘souperism’ with the positive legacies of Nangle’s mission (Photograph; Patrick Comerford)

History is read differently by different Christian communities.

The Presbyterian memory of the Church of Ireland is that we marginalised them at the Caroline Restoration in 1660, that we displaced them from churches in the north-east, and that we kept all the church endowments for ourselves. Yet the Presbyterian memory of being the true Ulster-Scots is also untrue.

When it comes to Roman Catholic memory, we’re often seen as an Irish branch of the Church of England, or remembered for the Penal Laws and the landlords and tithes, and we are linked with their sense of disinheritance. Catholics and Presbyterians together believe that they were the only ones to take part in the 1798 Rising.

Methodists too believe in their memories that we forced them out of the Church.

Think of Catholic memory of “souperism” and the Achill and Ventry missions. How can Nangle and mission in Achill be seen in a positive light today?

Church history and interfaith dialogue:

The crescent and the minaret at the mosque in Clonskeagh, Dublin … Church History helps us understand the possibilities and potentials in interfaith dialogue (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2010)

Church history reminds us that Byzantium was the longest-lasting Christian kingdom, that what we call Turkey was a Christian country – the Christian country – for longer than it has been a Muslim country. On the other hand, Spain was a Muslim country for longer than it has been regarded as a Christian country. And so, it is surprising the Carmelite spirituality of John of the Cross or Theresa of Avila has echoes of Sufi spirituality?

We can deal properly with our neighbours if we first accept them as our neighbours. And Church history teaches that Muslims and Turks have always been part of Europe, ever since we constructed the concept of Europe.

Church history and our understanding of the political world:

Church History and politics … how do you think Muslims reacted to George Bush’s use of the word “Crusade?”

Christianity played a key, formative role in shaping European cultural identity. For too long, there was a coincidence of Europe and Christendom. Church history explains the development of principles such as the just war theory. In terms of political science, church history like no other branch of history allows us to compare Savonarola (1498) with Machiavelli. Was Savonarola essentially a political opportunist or a religious fanatic?

In terms of imperialist expansion, Church history helps to explain a great deal of what was happening in Europe for the last 500 years or so, and its legacy. Just think of a movie such as The Mission, and how the Pope carved up Latin America between Portugal and Spain. The churches played a key role in shaping North America. Think of how they shaped Puritan Massachusetts, Catholic Maryland, Anglican Virginia, or Quaker Pennsylvania. The French Revolution was as much a revolt against the Church at its worst as against a monarchy that was propped up by the church teaching and preaching the Divine Right of Kings.

We cannot understand evangelicalism without taking account of its political impulses, including demands to end the slave trade, slavery, and child labour. We understand Karl Marx in a new light when we understand that his Jewish parents converted to Christianity during his childhood. When it comes to assessing recent American political history, will it be possible for historians to understand the Bush and the Obama presidencies without understanding the religious beliefs of their closest advisers or apocalyptic theology?

Summary:

Bad church history is merely a summary of dates and domineering figures. Good church history relates to the rest of theology, and to the rest of society. If we don’t do it properly, people will think we’re irrelevant, or covering up. And because we have done it so badly in the past, I think, explains in part the reason why many people are attracted to The Da Vinci Code. They know it is a novel, but at the same time many really do believe Dan Brown that the book is based on facts and on real history.

Over these few weeks, as part of this module, let us throw aside your old ideas about history, and let us ask searching questions about the Church of Ireland and Anglicanism in general: how were we shaped, and how did we get to where we are today?

Part 2: Early Christianity and its spread:

Pentecost (El Greco) … Pentecost is seen as the Birth of the Church

As you probably now realise, it is a truism that Jesus preached the Kingdom, and that the Church was founded on his teachings. The early history of the Church is still part of the New Testament story, and the canon of the New Testament and Church doctrines did not take their present forms until long after the Apostolic Age.

Traditionally, Pentecost is seen as the Birth of the Church. But despite the reports in the Acts of the Apostles of early conversions after Pentecost, the followers of Christ remained a small group or sect within Judaism – alongside the Pharisees, Sadducees and Essenes – until two decisive events turned their faith into a mass movement: the conversion of Paul, and the destruction of Jerusalem.

The Conversion of Saint Paul ... a window in Saint Mary’s Church, Melton Mowbray

Saint Paul’s conversion on the road to Damascus, which we celebrated in the calendar of the Church last week, is such a decisive event that in a real sense he can be said to be the founder of the Church. The name Christian was first applied to a group of believers in Antioch, and Christianity spread quickly through Damascus and Antioch, the capital of Syria and the third city of the Empire, and on through Syria, Cilicia and Asia Minor.

Later tradition would associate many churches with the early Apostles: Alexandria with Mark, both Antioch and Rome with Peter, Byzantium and the Scythians with Andrew, and Phrygia in Asia Minor with Philip. Even the Church in Persia and on the Malabar coast in India would claim it was founded by the Apostle Thomas.

Saint Paul preaching in Thessaloniki, a fresco in the Cathedral Church of Saint Gregory Palamas in Thessaloniki … his missionary journeys saw the Church expand throughout the Eastern Mediterranean (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2011)

The spread of Early Christianity was due in part to the exodus of Jewish Christians to Asia Minor during the Jewish War in the years AD 66 to 70. But the first real missionary endeavours of the new movement were launched by Paul, whose journeys saw the Church expand throughout the Eastern Mediterranean in what we know today as Cyprus, Turkey, Greece, into Malta, present-day Italy, and (perhaps) as far west as Spain.

The earliest followers of ‘The Way’ were recruited in the synagogues, among the Jews of the Diaspora, and among the ethical, monotheistic Gentiles who worshipped with Jews. For both groups, koine Greek was the common language, and their thoughts were shaped by the thinking of Plato and Aristotle. The sack of Jerusalem in the year AD 70 marked the end of the dominance of Jewish Christians in the Church. Gentiles, who had achieved equality in the Church through Paul’s endeavours, now became the dominant Christians, and the focus switched from Jerusalem to the capital of the Gentile world, Rome.

The bridge between the New Testament story and Church history is provided by the writers known collectively as the Apostolic Fathers, including Justin Martyr and the author of Clement at the end of the first century, and Polycarp of Smyrna and the authors of the Didache at the beginning of the second century.

Justin Martyr, who was born of Greek parents in Palestine, saw continuity between his Christian faith and his Greek philosophical past, and anchored his Christian faith in his Greek heritage. Polycarp, who is said to have known Saint John the Divine, the author of the Book of Revelation, was the last living link between the Apostolic Church of the New Testament and the historic church of the Apostolic Fathers.

With letter known as ‘I Clement,’ written from Rome to Corinth around the year AD 96, we begin to glimpse common patterns emerging in the liturgy, life and ministry of the Church at the end of the first century. A clearer pattern of Church order and ministry is defined in the early second century by Ignatius of Antioch in his writings. As he was being taken to Rome to be martyred, he write seven letters setting out the threefold pattern of bishop, priest and deacon, with the local bishop as the focus of unity in the face of schism and heresy.

By the beginning of the second century, Christianity was under attack, internally and externally, from a number of diverse, competing sects known collectively as Gnostics, who claimed access to secret knowledge (gnosis). For Gnostics, the spirit was good and the flesh was evil, and they believed in a remote, supreme god, sometimes identified with the God of the Old Testament but who was disengaged from the world.

Saint Irenaeus of Lyons ... offered first firm challenge to heresy within the early Church

The first firm challenge to heresy within the early Church came from Saint Irenaeus, the author of Against Heresies. A Greek who had learned at the feet of Saint Polycarp before moving to Lyons, he became the first bishop in Gaul (France).

The challenge from Gnosticism and other heresies also led to the Church agreeing on the canon of Scripture, deciding which books were to be included and which excluded from an accepted Bible. Irenaeus was the first to talk about a New Testament scripture alongside the Old Testament. Apostolic teaching, handed down through successive generations, and apostolic structure, in the agreed books, amounted to the common apostolic tradition shared by an increasingly diffuse and diverse Church, now scattered throughout the Empire and beyond.

The challenge of heresy and schism also marks the beginning of theology, and Tertullian the North African who died in AD 220, is regarded as the father of Latin, western theology, although he later became disillusioned with the mainstream Church. North Africa produced other great theologians at the turn of second and third centuries, including Clement of Alexandria, Origen (also born in Alexandria), and Cyprian, the martyr Bishop of Carthage.

Apart from heresy and schism, the Church also faced regular persecution, often for the refusal of Christians to take part in the emperor cult, to swear oaths or serve in the imperial army, but also because of widespread vulgar charges, originating in Eucharistic practice and the teaching of Christian love, that Christians indulged in cannibalism and incest. During the severe persecution under Marcus Aurelius in AD 177, Tertullian could comment, with sarcasm: ‘If the Tiber rises too high or the Nile too low, the cry is “The Christians to the lion”. All of them, to a single lion?’ Despite persecution and martyrdom, Tertullian observed, ‘the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the Church.’

The Church was thriving, and missionary, social and intellectual advances were preparing the way that would lead to the conversion of the Emperor Constantine at the beginning of the fourth century, the accommodation of the Church with temporal power, and the consolidation of Church teachings at the great ecumenical councils in the decades that followed.

But the old heresies, schisms and battles would not go away. The theories and beliefs of Gnostics and Arians would continue to resurface in the Church in successive generations, and they continue to appear today. The rift between the Greek East and Latin West would widen throughout the remaining centuries of the first millennium, so that the Church, despite winning the internal battle for orthodoxy, could never succeed in maintaining its unity or a common Church order. The divisions of the 21st century can be traced back to the seeds sown in the first, second and third centuries of Church history.

The rift between East and West:

The Church Fathers … in a Greek Orthodox icon

With the conversion of Constantine in AD 312, and his subsequent victory at the Battle of the Milvian Bridge near Rome, the imperial persecution of Christians came to an end. Christians were guaranteed freedom of religion, Church goods and property were restored, Sunday became a special day, the Church was free to expand its mission work, and there was a rapid growth in Church membership. But the new freedoms also allowed the growth of internal dissensions and heresies, more complex Church structures were demanded to cope with both expansion and dissent, and the new footing for Church-State relations also gave the State more say in Church affairs.

The first major doctrinal controversy arose in the debate over the Trinity and the teachings of a Libyan theologian, Arius, who taught that the Son was not co-equal and co-essential with the Father, but merely the chief of his creations, that the two persons were substantially similar rather than of the same substance. In an attempt to settle the dispute, Constantine used his powers as emperor to call and preside over the first of the great Councils of the Church. The Council of Nicaea, attended by 300 or so bishops, agreed on formulas that later gave us the Nicene Creed.

Meanwhile, as the Church was reaching a new understanding with the state and the world, Anthony of Egypt and other leading Christian intellectuals and writers were leaving the cities and towns to live on their own in the desert. The Greek word monos (alone) gave us the words monk and monastery to describe how these hermits lived, and the monastic tradition would become a mainstay of Church life and mission for centuries to come.

A perfume brazier in the form of a domed building, from Constantinople... the creed agreed at Constantinople, now known as the Nicene Creed, remains the standard test of orthodox teaching and doctrine (Photograph © Procuratoria di San Marco/Cameraphoto Arte, Venice)

In the Eastern Church, Athanasius, John Chrysostom, Basil and Gregory Nazianzus came to be counted as the four Doctors of the Eastern Church or great founding theologians. Athanasius was Bishop of Alexandria, but was forced into exile on a number of occasions by the Arians. Unbowed, he was the biographer of Anthony of Egypt, and so introduced monasticism to the West at a time when the rift between east and West was increasing. For the first time, he listed the contents or canon of the New Testament as we know it. Two years after his death, his supporters and the Cappadocian Fathers, including Basil and Gregory, eventually triumphed in 381 in the doctrinal debate at the Council of Constantine. The creed agreed at Constantinople, now known as the Nicene Creed, remains the standard test of orthodox teaching and doctrine.

The first breach between Rome and the four other patriarchal sees in the East came when John Chrysostom (347-407) was deposed as Patriarch of Constantinople in 403. For eleven years, between 404 and 415, there was no communion between Rome and Constantinople – a foretaste of future, deeper divisions in later centuries.

During that time, the Goths sacked Rome in 410. With the collapse of the Roman Empire at the start of the fifth century, new foundations were needed if Christianity were to be a world force. Jerome (342-420), who moved to Bethlehem, produced a readable Bible translated into the common language, Latin (hence the Vulgate). In North Africa, Augustine (354-430), Bishop of Hippo, addressed the doubts of a shaken Church with his Confessions and The City of God, and provided the West with a theology that could survive the centuries. Jerome and Augustine, along with Ambrose and Gregory, would be counted among the Four Doctors of the Church. Later, a rediscovery of Augustine would inspire both the Reformation and the Catholic Counter-Reformation.

The Library of Celsus at Ephesus ... the Council of Ephesus finally defined the Creed in 431, a year before Saint Patrick began his mission in Ireland (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2008)

Having dealt with Arianism at Nicaea and Constantinople, the Church called another great council at Ephesus in 431 to deal with the arguments about the Virgin Mary and her role as Theotokos or ‘Bearer of God’. The deposed Patriarch of Constantinople, Nestorius, was condemned as a heretic. In the face of efforts by the Emperor Theodosius to reverse the decision, the monks of Constantinople marched through the streets to support the bishops of the council, and the decision was endorsed in Rome by the Pope.

Today, the arguments of the four great councils may appear to be obscure philosophy, but they identified the fundamental issues central to the Christian faith: Jesus Christ is not merely a super creature or the last great prophet sent by God, but in his deity is the foundation of all true Christian faith, and he is the one, unique revelation of God.

Amid the gloom prevailing in the middle of the fifth century, Pope Leo the Great (440-461) assumed the imperial title of Pontifex Maximus (Supreme Priest), declared his words to be the word of Peter, influenced the decisions of the Council of Chalcedon in 451, and set to putting the Church of Rome on a new footing.

Leo the Great was a contemporary of Patrick, who is said to have arrived in Ireland as a missionary bishop in 431 and continued his mission until his death (ca 460). Patrick and the early Celtic Church built on the pre-Patrician Church in Ireland, and then, beginning with the foundation of a monastery by Colmcille (Columba) in Iona in 563, the first Celtic missionaries brought new life first to Scotland and a dwindling Church left behind in Britain after the collapse of the Western Roman Empire, and then into northern Europe. The Celtic monks were breathing new life into the Church in northern Europe, while in southern Europe Benedict was drawing up a Rule that would reform monastic life throughout the West.

In the East, the Emperor Justinian (527-565) had re-established Byzantium’s territorial control, combated a resurgent Arianism followed by the barbarian kings, and the space of six years built the great church of Aghia Sophia, the supreme expression of Byzantine genius. In the West, a recovering papacy under Gregory the Great sent Augustine as the first Archbishop of Canterbury in 597. But Christianity in the East and West was ill-prepared for the newest challenge about to face it: the rise of Islam.

Part 3: The Church of Ireland, Early beginnings

Glendalough, the monastic “Valley of the Two Lakes” ... but where do we find the origins of Irish Christianity? (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2009)

Introduction

The Round Tower in the churchyard in Kells, Co Meath ... the Church of Ireland parish church stands on an early monastic site (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2011)

Brendan Behan once crudely named which part of the anatomy of Henry VIII he thought the Church of England had been founded on. And many of your neighbours probably persist in the popular misperception that the Church of Ireland, in some way, is none other than a branch of the Church of England on this island.

On the other hand, historians in the Church of Ireland, in a very antiquarian approach, tried to prove that the Church of Ireland was the legitimate heir and successor to the Church of Saint Patrick and the Ancient Celtic Church of Ireland, claiming that in some way that early church had been hijacked during the Anglo-Norman invasion, and had recovered its independence at disestablishment.

The truth, of course, is always more subtle and nuanced than popular myth. Of course the Church on this island owes much to the early Celtic Church. But it is also the Church of the Vikings, who gave us new dioceses centres on cities rather than monasteries, such as Dublin and Christ Church Cathedral.

These city-based dioceses often felt closer to Canterbury than their Celtic neighbours, even before the Anglo-Norman invasion. With the Anglo-Norman invasion came French-speaking bishops and clergy, and the Church benefitted from the closer links created not only with the Church in England but with the Church in Continental Europe. Yet we persisted in insisting on our Celtic inheritance, and the Preamble and Declaration, which we looked at two weeks ago, described the Church of Ireland in 1870 as “the Ancient Catholic and Apostolic Church of Ireland,” while also conceding that this same church is “a reformed and Protestant Church.”

Pre-Patrician Christianity

Saint Patrick’s Window in Saint Edan’s Cathedral, Ferns, Co Wexford ... but what was his role in early Irish Christianity? (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Britain was the most remote province in the Roman Empire. Christianity reached England in the first few centuries AD, and the first recorded martyr in England was Saint Alban, during the reign of Diocletian.

The Roman legions were withdrawn from England in 407 to defend Italy during the attacks by the Visigoths. Rome was sacked in 410, the legions did not return to England, and Roman influence came to an end. In the aftermath, these islands developed distinctively from the rest of Western Europe, and the Irish Sea acted as a centre from which a new culture developed among the “Celtic” peoples.

Ireland had never been part of the Roman Empire. But Christianity came here from the former Roman outposts, and a unique Church organisation emerged, focussed on the monasteries, rather than on episcopal sees, with their own traditions and practices.

In romantic tradition, Saint Patrick converted the entire island of Ireland in a short period from 432 to 461. But this is not an article of faith, and we know there were Christians in Ireland before Patrick arrived as a missionary, and we know he laboured and ministered in only part of the island.

Christianity probably first arrived Ireland by the fourth and early fifth centuries, in a slow and gradual process, from Continental Europe – Gaul (France) and perhaps the Iberian peninsula (Spain and Portugal) and from Britain too.

The sea united rather than divided people. Tacitus (c 55-120 AD) tells us that British or Gallic merchants knew Ireland’s “harbours and approaches.” Ptolemy, writing about AD 150, speaks of Brigantes in south-east Ireland, similar to the inhabitants in the north of Roman Britain of the same name, and of Menapii on the coast of Wexford, whose name associates them with the Belgic people on the Continent.

Evidence shows Roman traders reached the coastal harbours and points well inland along large rivers like the Nore and the Barrow. Roman coins have been found at Newgrange and all along the northern and eastern coasts of Ireland: at the Giant’s Causeway, Coleraine, Limavady, Rush, and so on.

Irish traders had trading relations with Roman Britain, Gaul, Spain and so on, and Irish coastal raiders were taking captives from the west coasts of England and Wales. From the end of the third century, there were colonies from Ireland in north-west and south-west Wales, Cornwall and west Scotland. We can imagine well-read refugees from continental Europe fleeing the barbarian invasions by the fifth century, bringing Christianity with them to Ireland.

Patrick tells us he was captured in a great raid that netted “many thousands of people” [Confessio 1], some of whom were lukewarm Christians. If so, some of his fellow captives were committed Christians too, perhaps even a small number were priests. Patrick’s account of his flight from slavery as a young 22-year-old suggests an escape network for fugitive slaves run by concerned Christians, presumably in Leinster, more than 20 years before he began his own mission [Confessio 17 and 18]. We can have no doubt about the presence of Christianity in Ireland by the early fifth century, before Patrick began his mission in 432.

The first bishop in Ireland, Palladius, arrived in 431. However, there is a tradition that some Irish saints predated Saint Patrick – including Ciaran of Seirkieran (near Birr, Co Offaly), Declan of Ardmore (Co Waterford), Ibar of Begerin Island (near Wexford), Ailbe of Emly (Co Tipperary), and Multose of Kinsale (Co Cork). But there is no reliable evidence that they were pre-Patrician figures, and claims to their antiquity rather reflect a battle of ancient autonomous parts of the Church against the claims to dominance or primacy in Armagh, bolstered by claims to Patrician foundations.

TF O’Rahilly made a sweeping claim that “Irish Christianity owes its origin to Britain,” that “already before 431 no small part of the population of the south-east and south of Ireland must have been converted by British missionaries,” that British evangelists continued to arrive in Ireland during the next three decades, and that after 461 British influence had the field to itself.

EA Thompson supposes British Christians in Ireland formed the nucleus of his Church in Ireland. Certainly, British Christians, directly or indirectly, influenced the spread of Christianity in Ireland and this influence may have been active before 431.

Pelagius (355-425) caused a great doctrinal controversy in early fifth century, denying the necessity of grace for salvation and emphasising God’s gift of freewill. But was Pelagius Irish? Saint Jerome vilifies him as a “most stupid fellow, heavy with Irish porridge,” and claims that Pelagius, or his companion Coelestius, had “his lineage of the Irish race, from the neighbourhood of the Britons.” But perhaps Jerome was merely insulting his opponent, in the way someone might be dismissed as a “Philistine.”

To combat Pelagianism, Rome sent Germanus of Auxerre to Britain in 429, and this was followed in 431 by the mission of the “Palladius, ordained by Pope Celestine … to the Scotti who believe in Christ, as their first bishop” – evidence perhaps that from at least the third decade of the fifth century there were enough Irish Christians to justify the appointment of a bishop for them by Rome.

Professor Patrick Corish of Maynooth locates the mission of Palladius in Leinster, and in particular with three ancient churches in Co Wicklow, and that his work was supplemented or continued by missionary figures like Secundinus, Auxilius and Iserninus –who appear to have had little or no contact with Patrick.

It has been argued that the missions of Palladius and Patrick have become confused and conflated, and that much of the work of Palladius has been attributed wrongly to Patrick. Palladius may have laboured in Ireland until 461, but many Patrician scholars agree that his mission in Ireland was short and that he died within a year.

Patrick Corish believes Patrick played no part in framing the document that now bears his name and that it “is not hard to see circumstances in which his name came to be added later.” Whatever its origins, his Confessio [51] shows Patrick is aware of other episcopal activity in Ireland and the independent administration of baptism, confirmation and ordination.

Although the Palladian and Patrician missions may have coincided, Patrick was working in new territory, while Roman missionaries in Leinster consolidated the work of Palladius and other early missionaries.

It is a well-known aphorism that the field of Patrician studies is a field in which no stone has been left unturned.

We can assume that Patrick was the son of a deacon and the grandson of a priest in a part of Roman Britain that was on the edges of a fraying and disintegrating Roman Empire, but we cannot with certainty even identify his place of birth, Bannavem Taburniae. Indeed, we know little about Patrick’s life or his mission, about the dates for his life – there are at least four different suggested dates for his death – or even how many Patricks there were: The Annals of Ulster speak of the elder Patrick, who died in 457, leading some to suppose there was also a younger Patrick, so that O’Rahilly put forward the idea of two Patricks in 1954. Apart from Patrick’s own writings, his Confessio and his Letter to Coroticus, we have few sources for his life which we can say definitely date back to the fifth century: the earliest lives date from the seventh century or later.

‘Celtic’ Christianity and missionaries’:

A late Celtic high cross at Saint Edan’s Cathedral, Ferns, Co Wexford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Whatever the origins of early Irish Christianity, and no matter how many missionary bishops had been sent from Rome or Auxerre, by the mid-sixth century Irish Christianity was no longer dependent on episcopal structures but was a thorough-going monastic church ruled by abbots from key monastic centres. The Irish church had become one in which bishops had retained their sacerdotal and sacramental functions but were seemingly without any real authority and without any diocesan structures.

In the sixth and seventh centuries, monks from Ireland established monastic settlements in parts of Scotland. They included Saint Columba or Saint Colmcille, who settled on Iona. Ireland became “a land of saints and scholars” and missionaries from Ireland became a major source of missionary work in Scotland, Saxon parts of Britain and central Europe.

As the Anglo-Saxons colonised what is now England, Celtic missionaries from Scotland and Ireland set out to evangelise them. In the year 631, Saint Aidan was sent from Iona to evangelise them from the island of Lindisfarne, on England’s north-east coast. Celtic practice heavily influenced northern England, and the missionaries from Lindisfarne reached as far south as London.

Irish monks were also settling in Continental Europe, particularly in Gaul (France), including Saint Columbanus, exerting a profound influence greater than that of many Continental centres with more ancient traditions.

Meanwhile, in 597, Pope Gregory had sent a mission to the English, led by Augustine. These renewed links with the greater Latin West brought the Celtic-speaking peoples into close contact with other expressions of Christianity.

Some of the customs and traditions that had developed in Celtic Christianity were distinctive or gave rise to disputes with the rest of the Western Church. These included the monastic tradition, fixing the date of Easter, differences on the use of tonsure, and penitential rites.

The achievements of Christianity in the Celtic-speaking world are significant. Irish society had no pre-Christian history of literacy. Yet within a few generations of the arrival of Christianity, the monks and priests had become fully integrated with Latin culture. Apart from their Latin texts, these Irish monks also developed a written form of Old Irish.

Christ enthroned ... the Book of Kells

Some of the greatest achievements of the Celtic tradition were during this period, such as the Book of Kells, and intricately carved high crosses.

The episcopal structures were adapted to an environment wholly different from the one prevailing in the sub-Roman world. Apart from parts of Wales, Devon, and Cornwall, the Celtic world was without developed cities, and so different ecclesiastical structures were needed, especially in Ireland. This ecclesiastical structure developed around monastic communities and their abbots.

Celtic Christianity was often marked by its conservatism, even archaism. One example is the method used to calculate Easter, using a calculation similar to one approved by Saint Jerome. Eventually, most groups, including the southern Irish, accepted the new methods for calculating Easter, but not the monastery of Iona and the houses linked to it.

At the Synod of Whitby in 664, the rules of the Roman mission were accepted by the Church in England, and were extended later throughout Britain and Ireland. But the decrees of Whitby did not immediately change the face of Christianity on these islands. There were pockets of resistance to the Roman mission, especially in Devon, Cornwall and Scotland, and the monks of Iona did not accept the decisions reached at Whitby until 716.

Irish monks kept a distinct tonsure, or method of cutting their hair, to distinguish their identity as monks. The “Celtic” tonsure involved cutting away the hair above one’s forehead. This differed from the prevailing custom, which was to shave the top of the head, leaving a halo of hair – in imitation of Christ’s crown of thorns.

In Ireland, a distinctive form of penance developed, where confession was made privately to a priest, under the seal of secrecy, and where penance was given privately and performed privately as well. Handbooks, called “penitentials,” were designed as a guide for confessors and to regularise the penance given for each particular sin.

In the past, penance had been a public ritual. But the Irish penitential practice spread throughout continental Europe, where the form of public penance had fallen into disuse. Saint Columbanus is said to have introduced the “medicines of penance” to Gaul at a time when they had come to be neglected.

By 1215, the Celtic practice had become the European norm, with the Fourth Lateran Council issuing a canonical requirement for confession at least once per year.

So Early Celtic Christianity in Ireland cannot be separated from the beginnings and the development of Christianity in neighbouring Scotland, Wales and England. There was a two-way flow between both islands, and those early forms of Christianity mutually sustained each other and were inter-dependent.

Not just Celts

Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin ... founded in the heart of Viking Dublin (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2010)

But if the Church in Ireland was not the only expression of Celtic Christianity, then it was not an exclusively Celtic Church either. In 943, the future King of Dublin, Amlaíb (Óláfr) Cúarán was baptised in England. He was king from 945-980, and later after his defeat would retire to Columba’s monastery on Iona.

We know that Vikings in Ireland had converted to Christianity in great numbers by the middle or late tenth century at the latest, for in 1028 King Si8tric (Sigtryggr) Silkbeard of Dublin made a pilgrimage to Rome, and by 1030 Dúnán was Bishop of Dublin. The foundation of Christ Church Cathedral must predate both these events, although the traditional date given is 1038. Similar processes were taking place in in the Scandinavian homelands – Denmark, Norway and Sweden – and in other colonial contexts such as north-eastern England, Iceland, Normandy and the Scottish islands.

At the Synod of Ráith Bressail in 1111, when the diocesan boundaries were drawn up, the area of Dublin was subsumed in the Diocese of Glendalough – perhaps Dublin was ignored because of its allegiance to the Archbishop of Canterbury, and it was not until 1052 that the Bishop of Dublin was acknowledged as having metropolitan status.

Summary:

The beginning of Saint Luke’s Gospel in the Saint Chad Gospel or Lichfield Gospels … Saint Chad was trained in an Irish monastery and the work in this book shows clearly the combination of Celtic and Saxon culture in the eighth century

Christianity came to these islands at early stage, and long before the collapse of the Roman presence in Britain. The mutual trade and commerce between these two islands, including the salve trade, was responsible for the first early presence of Christianity in Ireland, including the arrival of Saint Patrick.

Many of the myths surrounding the life of Saint Patrick may have been created to support the claims of Armagh to primacy. Many of the myths about pre-Patrician Christianity may have been created to challenge that primacy. But while Christianity in Ireland predates Patrick, the Patrician mission, in whatever form it came, consolidated Christian presence in Ireland.

The Staffordshire Hoard, found in a field near Lichfield, shows the intimate links between the Celtic and Anglo-Saxon worlds

Christianity in Ireland – and in Britain – brought new life to Christianity on Continental Europe after the collapse of the Roman Ireland. But Celtic Christianity was not exclusively Irish and Irish Christianity was never exclusively Celtic. An exhibition in Lichfield Cathedral last autumn of the treasures found in the ‘Anglo-Saxon’ or ‘Staffordshire Hoard’ shows intricately-worked ecclesiastical and civilian objects that illustrate the inseparable and intimate inter-connection between the Celtic and Saxon worlds.

Our story is the story of Christianity in Ireland, the story of Christianity on these islands, and the shared story of Christianity throughout Europe.

Supplemental reading:

John R. Bartlett and Stuart D. Kinsella, Two thousand years of Christianity in Ireland (Dublin: Columba Press, 2006).
Patrick Corish, The Irish Catholic Experience (Dublin, 1985).
Liam de Paor, Saint Patrick’s World (Blackrock, Co Dublin, 1993).
James P. Mackey, An Introduction to Celtic Christianitty (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1995).
Rowan Williams, Why study the past? The quest for the historical church (2005).

Next:

2.2: The Challenges facing the communion of global Anglicanism today, including the Anglican Covenant.

Next week:

3.1: State-sponsored reform of the English and Irish churches in the 16th century.

3.2: Contextual understandings (1): the emergence, role and authority of the Book of Common Prayer, the Homilies, Articles of Religion.

Canon Patrick Comerford is Lecturer in Anglicanism and Liturgy, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute, Dublin. This lecture on 26 January 2012 was part of the MTh Year II course, EM8825: Anglican Studies in an Irish context

Grasshoppers’ eyes and Eagles’ wings

2012-01-25T09:30:00.005Z

‘its inhabitants are like grasshoppers’ (Isaiah 40: 22) ... the grasshopper on the Chronophage or ‘Time Eater’ at Corpus Christi ... the clock is accurate only once every five minutes (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2010)

Patrick Comerford

The readings in the Revised Common Lectionary for Sunday week [Sunday 5 February 2012], the Third Sunday before Lent, are: Isaiah 40: 21-31; Psalm 147: 1-11, 21c; I Corinthians 9: 16-23; and Mark 1: 29-39.

For this semester, we have decided in our tutorial group, to look at the Old Testament readings provided in the lectionary. The Old Testament reading for that Sunday is Isaiah 40: 21-31.

Isaiah 40: 21-31

21 Have you not known? Have you not heard?
Has it not been told you from the beginning?
Have you not understood from the foundations of the earth?
22 It is he who sits above the circle of the earth,
and its inhabitants are like grasshoppers;
who stretches out the heavens like a curtain,
and spreads them like a tent to live in;
23 who brings princes to naught,
and makes the rulers of the earth as nothing.

24 Scarcely are they planted, scarcely sown,
scarcely has their stem taken root in the earth,
when he blows upon them, and they wither,
and the tempest carries them off like stubble.

25 To whom then will you compare me,
or who is my equal? says the Holy One.
26 Lift up your eyes on high and see:
Who created these?
He who brings out their host and numbers them,
calling them all by name;
because he is great in strength,
mighty in power,
not one is missing.

27Why do you say, O Jacob,
and speak, O Israel,
“My way is hidden from the Lord,
and my right is disregarded by my God”?
28 Have you not known? Have you not heard?
The Lord is the everlasting God,
the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He does not faint or grow weary;
his understanding is unsearchable.
29 He gives power to the faint,
and strengthens the powerless.
30 Even youths will faint and be weary,
and the young will fall exhausted;
31 but those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength,
they shall mount up with wings like eagles,
they shall run and not be weary,
they shall walk and not faint.

Making connections:

The other lectionary readings for the day are:

Psalm 147: 1-11, 21c: The Psalm begins by praising God, and goes on to echo our Old Testament reading, telling us how the Lord builds up Jerusalem, gathers in the outcasts, heals the broken-hearted, lifts up the down-trodden and casts down the wicked; and telling us how his glory is reflected in the stars and all his creation, how he continues to work through that creation, and is reflected in the beauty of that creation. You might want to notice too, if you are preparing these readings, that the verse numbers for the Psalm follow the versification in The Book of Common Prayer (2004), and not that in other versions, such as the New Revised Standard Version (NRSV).

I Corinthians 9: 16-23: In the New Testament reading, the Apostle Paul reminds us of our duty to preach the Gospel, not for ay reward we may receive, but for the sake of the Gospel itself.

Mark 1: 29-39: The Gospel reading continues the story of Christ’s visit to Capernaum. He goes from the synagogue, where he has been teaching, preaching and casting out an unclean spirit, to the house of Simon and Andrew, accompanied by the first four who have been called as disciples, Simon, Andrew, James and John. There he heals Simon’s mother-in-law, and then cures the sick, and casts out demons and silences them.

Then, early in the morning, he gets up and goes to deserted place where he prays. Simon and the others search for him and tell him everyone is searching for him. And so, they head off to the neighbouring towns, proclaiming the Good News and casting out demons.

Reflecting on those readings may help those us who want to preach on the Old Testament reading that Sunday morning.

Looking at the text:

‘What do you hear?’ ...Master Po (Keye Luke) and Kwai-Chang Caine (David Carradine) in the original Kung-fu movie

In our workshop on Monday morning, John Bell was encouraging us to apply a child-like imagination to our approaches to reading Scripture.

I remember – but was a little too old to get childish or even teenage pleasure from – the mid-1970s television series Kung-fu (1972–1975), starring David Carradine. The weekly episodes followed the adventures of a Shaolin or Chan Buddhist monk, Kwai Chang Caine (Qián Guānchāng), portrayed by David Carradine (as an adult), Keith Carradine (as a teenager) and Radames Pera (as a young boy), who travels through the American Old West armed only with his spiritual training and his skill in martial arts, as he seeks his half-brother, Danny Caine.

The regular cast included Keye Luke, as the blind Master Po, and Philip Ahn, as Master Kan. Throughout the series, there are flashbacks in which the blind Master Po calls his young student “Grasshopper” in reference to a scene in the pilot episode:

Master Po: Close your eyes. What do you hear?
Young Caine: I hear the water, I hear the birds.
Master Po: Do you hear your own heartbeat?
Caine: No.
Master Po: Do you hear the grasshopper which is at your feet?
Caine: Old man, how is it that you hear these things?
Master Po: Young man, how is it that you do not?

The Shaolin Monastery or Shaolin Temple is a Chán Buddhist temple at Song Shan, near Zhengzhou City in Henan Province in China. The monastery is, perhaps, one of the most famous Buddhist monasteries in the world. It was founded in the 5th century and is known in the West for its association with Chinese martial arts, particularly with Shaolin Kung Fu. The monastery and its famed Pagoda Forest were designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 2010 as part of the “Historic Monuments of Dengfeng.”

In recent years, as secretary and then chair of the Dublin University Far Eastern Mission, I have visited a number of Buddhist monasteries in China. But in the mid-1970s, I had little knowledge of the issues that arise in Christian-Buddhist dialogue, and I was too old to get childish pleasure out of this series. On the other hand, my younger brother, who was ten years younger than me, enjoyed – like many young teenage boys of his generation – squeezing table tennis balls into his eye sockets as he went around asking us: “Grasshopper! What do you hear?”

Grasshoppers and Eagles

The Eagle and Child in Saint Giles’, Oxford, is nicknamed the Bird and Baby and was a favourite meeting place for the Inklings ... eagles’ wings grasshoppers are engaging images for a child’s imagination (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

The images of grasshoppers and eagles’ wings in the reading for Sunday week offer some interesting potential for images to illustrate children’s talks. But what do you think of when you hear of grasshoppers and eagles in a Biblical context?

Perhaps grasshoppers remind you of the locusts and the plagues in Egypt in the Book Exodus. Perhaps eagles remind you of the soaring heights reached in Saint John’s Gospel and in the other Johannine writings in the New Testament (I, II and III John, and the Book of Revelation).

Grasshoppers and eagles have very different wings, eyes and flight patterns, and represent very different things in our minds. Would you rather be a grasshopper or an eagle?

It is easy in a child’s mind to imagine soaring above the earth, swift and strong like an eagle, with a bird’s eye view of all the grasshoppers below. But putting imagination and dreams apart, the truth is that so many of us often feel that we live our lives as grasshoppers (verse 22).

Yet, grasshoppers are not like locusts. They are more prey than predator. Today, we generally have a negative view of grasshoppers as pests that eat more than their fair share in the food chain. But in Aesop’s fables, the grasshopper is a lazy, playful bug that has nothing for the winter and must beg the industrious ant for food and shelter. In the movie, A Bug’s Life (1998), Hopper the greedy grasshopper and his allies torment the ants like a street gang.

While grasshoppers cannot soar like eagles, they can leap 20 times more than their own body length. For a human such a feat would be a flying leap of 40 metres – and that would change how we line up for a throw-in in rugby or or think about hitting for six in cricket.

Perhaps it was something about grasshoppers that speaks of playful adolescents trying to come into maturity and that informed the lines in that series. They look like their tongue is perpetually sticking out, they are quick to leap away and hide in the grass, and they have an in-built genetic disposition to play away the day. Grasshopper might well be an excellent name for a spiritual novice, but in this passage they also represent humanity.

Looking at the bigger picture

Grasshoppers also have five eyes. Part of their adaptability and survival comes from their ability to see everything around them in a great panorama. This ability to see the bigger picture can take us beyond being a spiritual novice. If we only see the next blade of grass in front of us, we will not grow and thrive. As long as we remain in the grass, content to only look in front of us, we quickly become weighed down by trivia, annoyed by other people’s attitudes, caught up in our own struggles, wondering why the grass does not taste better or whether we are going to run out of grass soon.

In this passage, perhaps Isaiah is saying to us: “Look grasshopper … Have you not seen, have you not heard? Look around at the big world. Behind it all is your creator, who has the expansive power of life, a power that can make a small grasshopper soar like and eagle.”

The capacity to look at the bigger picture, at the vast expanse of the world, with a sense of awe and wonder is one that can lift us to new heights. Seeing things with the eyes of amazement, seeing ourselves as part of God’s majestic creation, strengthens our faith to the point that, with God’s help and strength, we have the ability to “mount up with wings like eagles … run and not be weary … walk and not faint” (verse 31).

Putting the passage in its context

In the cycle of readings for Year B in the Revised Common Lectionary, we have already read from the beginning of this chapter, (40: 1-11). But that was many weeks ago [4 December 2011, the Second Sunday of Advent], and the flow of readings has since been interrupted by other passages from Isaiah (61: 1-4, 8-11, on the Third Sunday of Advent; Isaiah 9: 2-7, the Christmas Day; Isaiah 61: 10 to 62: 3, the First Sunday of Christmas), never in sequence, and the continuity was interrupted too by passages from other books of the New Testament.

But you already know from your Old Testament modules, the Book of Isaiah can be divided into two – possibly even three – parts:

1, Chapters 1 to 39 were written before the exile, between ca 740 and ca 700 BC. These were difficult times for the southern kingdom, Judah, which had fought a disastrous war with Syria. The Assyrians had conquered Israel, the northern kingdom, in 723 BC, and threatened Judah. Isaiah sees the cause of these events as social injustice, which he condemns and against which he fights valiantly.

2, Chapters 40 to 66 were written during and after the Exile in Babylon. They are filled with a message of trust and confident hope that God will soon end the Exile.

3, Some scholars say Chapters 56 to 66 form a third part of the book, written after the return to the Promised Land. These chapters speak of hope and despair; they berate the people for their sin and for worshipping other gods. Like Second Isaiah, this part of the book speaks of the hope that God will soon restore Jerusalem to its former glory and make a new home for all peoples.

This passage reflects Isaiah’s thinking about God who is the supreme as creator, in same way as he is supreme over history. For God as creator, the earth’s inhabitants “are like grasshoppers” (verse 22), but this is the same reality that brings the rulers and princes of the nations to naught and makes them nothing, returning them to their original emptiness (verses 22-24). God’s breath blows them away, along with their power (24). Indeed, this truth returns us to the origins, the beginning of things: “Have you not understood [this] from the foundations of the earth?” (verse 21).

For Isaiah, the people have always known that God’s original creative work is something very different from the way they actually experience life on earth. But what is God’s power that it reduces princes to nothing, or the breath or spirit that blows them away? Will it be the same supreme violence that they themselves are so adept at using? If we leap forward in Second Isaiah to the theme of the Servant we find that it is because of him, the “one deeply despised, abhorred by the nations abhor, the slave of rulers,” that “Kings shall stand up, princes, and they shall prostrate themselves, because of the Lord, who is faithful” (49: 7).

God’s power in history to overcome and transform human culture is attached throughout this prophecy, obliquely at first but then more and more insistently, to the paradoxical yet amazing subversive figure of the Servant.

Jacob is not to despair, is not to give up because of its impoverished, helpless situation (27). God is the eternal God, the creator of the ends of the earth precisely in this way:

He does not faint or grow weary;
his understanding is unsearchable.
He gives power to the faint,
and strengthens the powerless – (Verses 28-29).

Because the God of Israel is engaged in a continuous historical journey to overturn the preconditions of human culture, the conditions that create the weak, those lost to human importance, then for that very reason the weak, those who are o longer seen as having human importance, are given strength. In this is the birth of hope, is strength for the weak, is light despite all darkness, for “those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like eagles” (31).

In this reading, we are reading in the first chapter of the section of Isaiah commonly called Second Isaiah or Deutero-Isaiah (Chapters 40-55). People from Judah and Jerusalem had been in exile in Babylon for almost half a century. With the Persian Empire on the rise, the fall of Babylon is drawing near. There is hope for the peoples who have been held in captivity. But the Judeans among them are not always ready to embrace that hope.

Throughout Isaiah 40 and in the following chapters, the prophet tries various arguments to encourage his people. In Isaiah 40: 12-31, he stresses the sovereignty of God and his ability to save his people.

Chapter 40 is divided into five sections, each introduced by a question (verses 12, 18, 21, 25 and 27). If we read this passage in the context of the exile, then we can imagine the people’s insecurity and their lack of faith. Their grandparents have experienced the horrors of military conquest and forced removal from their homeland. Their parents and this generation have only known oppression and the rule of the Babylonians. The prophet has the task of moving a tired and numbed people from passivity to action. But in their plight they cannot imagine that God has any regard for them (verse 27).

In the two sections that come immediately before this reading, one stresses that the nations are as nothing compared to God who is creator of all; even their wealth is insufficient for him (verse 12-17). The second asks what are idols compared to the one true God (verses 18-20). Even the very best of human endeavours are pitiful in comparison to God. We might think the point here is to highlight the human propensity to trust in “false” gods. But we ought to remember that for people at that time, their idols were representatives of real divine powers. The prophet is not just lampooning the people and their choices, but also the divine powers themselves.

Verses 21-24 begin with another series of rhetorical questions. Do the people not know that it is God who sits above earth? The creation language carries with it implications of kingship, sovereignty and might. The last verse in this section (verse 24) comes back to a series of “negative statements” comparing the rulers of the nations with plants that have scarcely taken root before God blows and they wither. The image picks up the thoughts in verses 6-7 that speak of the people in general as grass. Rulers are no different to the community in general. All of this underscores God’s power to deliver his people.

Verses 25-26 come back to God asking to whom he can be compared (see verse 18). The people are asked to lift their eyes to the heavens and observe their completeness. In the ancient world, the host of heaven were considered deities and heavenly creatures. God does not let one go. This is a point about power, but it should be one of comfort for God’s people too.

Finally, verses 27-31 address the people of Jacob or Israel, who are asked why they think their way is hidden from God. The people’s lack of trust and faith is now confronted and dismissed, not in terms of the insecurity, which is what the prophet is at pains to address, but in terms of there being any truth in their statement. Have they not heard of his power and ability to give strength to the weak? The question in verse 28 repeats in part that in verse 21. The prophet proclaims that those who wait for Yahweh will be renewed, picking up a theme from Isaiah 5.

The repetition of the words “knowledge,” “hearing” and understanding in verses 14, 21 and 28 reminds us of the problem in Isaiah 6: 10-13, which is the people’s lack of understanding. However, now it is not a point of judgment. The people’s lack of knowledge of God arises from their insecurity and lack of willingness to enter into faith, not from their wilful rejection of him. But they need to grasp that God’s understanding is unsearchable and that he grants his power to the weak (verses 28-29). In spite of the people’s inability to comprehend God’s way or to see any confidence in the future, God moves to deliver them. They will find both new energy and new hope in waiting for God (verse 31).

Some questions

This passage from the Book of Isaiah holds two thoughts in tension. The proclamation of what seems impossible to believe is held in tension with the truth of what is impossible to deny. The prophet announces that the truth is impossible to deny. It has been told from the beginning. The NRSV translates the third part of verse 21: “Have you not understood from the foundations of the earth?”

The Hebrew text, though, may read: “Have you not understood the foundations of the earth?”

And so, the final rhetorical question is actually the climax in a short series of staccato lines:

● surely you know
● surely you have heard
● surely it has been told to you
● surely you understand the foundations of the earth.

And if we understand the foundations of the earth, how can we believe in the possibility of any other god at work in our world? This God, and this God alone, stands above the world, creating a place for us, even though we may sometimes feel we are as easily dismissed as grasshoppers living in the circle of the earth (verse 22). This same God is intimately involved in the historical and political courses of life, for it is he “who brings princes to naught, and makes the rulers of the earth as nothing” (verse 23).

If we are to make some connections between the Old Testament reading and the Gospel reading this morning (Mark 1: 29-39), then we should think about the way these episodes can help the reader to recognise who it is who proclaims the good news of the Kingdom of God.

The stories in the Gospel reading, in their own ways, continue the theme of divine power which lies beyond the realms of earthly experience, but which is to be seen by those who hear and understand, by those who wait.

At the start of Christ’s ministry in Saint Mark’s Gospel, we are reminded of the one who is sovereign over all creation, who can strengthen the weak and faint, whose word is one of promise and hope, and who is present in Christ’s proclamation and activity, his mission and his ministry.

Leonard Cohen on stage at Lissadell House, Co Sligo (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2010)

In an interview with Dorlan Lynskey in the Guardian last Friday [20 January 2012] to mark the release of his new album, Old Ideas, Leonard Cohen was asked about hard work. “Well, you know, we’re talking in a world where guys go down the mines, chewing coca and spending all day in backbreaking labour. We’re in a world where there’s famine and hunger and people are dodging bullets and having their nails pulled out in dungeons, so it’s very hard for me to place any high value on the work that I do to write a song. Yeah, I work hard but compared to what?”

We have every justification for hope and confidence in the coming of God among us. But, as with Isaiah’s audience in our reading, realising the hope that is also a promise in our Gospel reading is not always easy. Think of the many things that hold people captive in our society today: the fear of pension cuts, health cuts, welfare cuts, education cuts, job cuts.

Think of the many “powers” in our governments, in politics, in the global and national economies, in the media and in society that continue to take possession of us and to play on our insecurities and our hopelessness so that we are overwhelmed by another kind of exile in which it is hard to see a future or to hear the call of God to welcome in his kingdom.

God is concerned for all who are weary and exhausted, all who feel abandoned by their God. But the poet-prophet suggests that such weariness does not deny God. This is “the everlasting God” and “the Creator of the ends of the earth” (verse 28). This is the God who not only created, but creates, the one who not only brought nations into existence, but who remains in control of world political affairs.

The promise of an end to their exile and of renewed strength seems impossible for the people to believe, for their current plight is impossible to deny. What seems irreconcilable is, in fact, not because of the identity of the one in whom they confess. While “his understanding is unsearchable” (verse 28), his identity is undeniable. He is the Creator who recreates, who is shaping and reshaping the world and all who live in it (see verse 28).

It is tempting to identify easily with the biblical people and to overlook the way that God grinds to dust our own contemporary “sacrificial” systems. Over whom is it comforting or self-serving to see God standing as the creator-other? What sacrificial systems are we in fact still using to “direct” or “enlighten” the Lord?

How does our science co-opt nature now in ways that support or authorise our violence against one another – whether this is physical, spiritual, or economic violence?

We may say that Common Sense shows how irresponsible it is to be passive in the face of oppression and injustice, not to act on behalf of the downtrodden. But, apart from speaking the truth, are there other ways to act so that we can reconcile action with the call to wait?

Closing image

The Eagle in Bene’t Street, Cambridge ... across the street from the grasshopper on the “Chronophage” or “Time Eater” on the Corpus Christi clock (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

I asked earlier which you would rather be – an eagle or a grasshopper. The grasshopper and the Eagle are curious neighbours in Cambridge. The Corpus Christi Clock, in a former bank window on the corner of King’s Parade, Trumpington Street and Bene’t Street, is a remarkable piece of time-keeping technology, a wonderful timepiece in which the grasshopper really looks like it is eating time.

The clock – the “Chronophage” or “Time Eater” – was unveiled by the physicist Stephen Hawking in 2008. The name Chronophage means “Time Eater.” But the clock is unusual not only because of its design but because it is accurate only once every five minutes.

A few steps away, across the street on the north side of Bene’t Street and opposite Saint Bene’t’s Church, is the Eagle, the pub where James Watson and Francis Crick often had lunch while they were working on the structure of DNA, and is the first place where Watson publicly presented the double helix model.

Together, the Eagle and the Grasshopper in Cambridge present two very important truths about life. The grasshopper reminds us how we can all let our time be consumed by the small things in life, when we should be more focussed on the more important priorities. And the Eagle reminds us of the soaring heights of beauty in God’s creation, explained not even in the marvellous and wonderful discoveries in science.

Collect:

Almighty God,
who alone can bring order
to the unruly wills and passions of sinful humanity:
Give your people grace
so to love what you command
and to desire what you promise;
that, among the many changes of the world,
our hearts may surely there be fixed
where true joys are to be found;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Post Communion Prayer:

Merciful Father,
you gave Jesus Christ to be for us the bread of life,
that those who come to him should never hunger.
Draw us to our Lord in faith and love,
that we may eat and drink with him at his table in the kingdom,
where he is alive and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,
now and for ever.

Next week: The Second Sunday before Lent, Proverbs 8: 1, 22-31; or Hosea 2: 14-20.

Canon Patrick Comerford is Lecturer in Anglicanism and Liturgy, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute, and a canon of Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin. These notes were prepared for a Bible study with a tutorial group of MTh students on Wednesday 25 January 2012.

Trying to catch the ones that get away

2012-01-22T11:30:00.005Z

Fishing boats and tourist boats by night in the harbour in Fethiye, south-west Turkey (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2011)

Patrick Comerford

Saint Bartholomew’s Church, Ballsbridge, Dublin,

Sunday 22 January 2012,

The Third Sunday after the Epiphany

11 .a.m., Solemn Eucharist

Jonah 3: 1-5, 10;
Psalm 62: 5-12;
I Corinthians 7: 29-31;
Mark 1: 14-20.

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

This morning’s Old Testament reading and the Gospel reading may offer little comfort in Glandore, Union Hall and those parts of west Cork where people are mourning the loss of the lives of those fishermen – at sea and yet so close to land within the past week.

The mere mention of Jonah, who everybody associates with a shipwreck and a big fish, or the story of fishermen being called away for an even-more demanding task, are hardly going to sound like good news to the ears of those who have lost loved ones so tragically in this past week.

Or where shall they find comfort in the Epistle reading (I Corinthians 7: 29-31), where Saint Paul tells the Christians of Corinth that “the time we live in will not last long,” or that “the present time is passing away.”

Yet, Saint Mark begins telling his Gospel story with the promise that this is “the good news of Jesus the Christ, the Son of God.” And again this morning, in verse 15, we hear repeated the promise of that Good News: “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news” (verse 15).

I wonder whether those fishermen by the Sea of Galilee in our Gospel reading this morning were prosperous businessmen, or people on the margins of society?

On the one hand, these fishermen could be compared with the Shepherds in Saint Luke’s Gospel who first hear the Good News. They work at night, they work away from everyone else, they work in small teams and clusters, and they face grave dangers. Fishing was carried out at night so that the freshly caught fish could be sold as soon as possible in the morning. So, being out at night – and smelling of fish – might have made fishing a disreputable occupation.

On the other hand, these disciples owned nets (verse 19), and they had employees or “hired men” (verse 20), so they may well have been people of rank. If so, they are giving up security, job opportunities, the chance to clinch the next big deal, the opportunity to pay the mortgage and save for the children’s education, to follow Christ and to devote themselves to his mission.

I wonder whether those fishermen by the Sea of Galilee who are called to follow Christ put up any resistance, even unspoken resistance, to answering that call? After all ... Jonah resisted God’s call, not just once, but twice.

But no, we are told this morning that when the first four disciples, Peter, Andrew, James and John, are called they immediately leave their previous occupations, and follow Christ.

One of the first things Christ does is to recruit followers. We could say that proclaiming the Good News, and proclaiming that the Kingdom of God is near, is not a one-man show. Instead, it involves building up communities, and creating relationships that embody the Good News.

Christ sees Simon and Andrew at night, or just before dawn, while they are actively fishing. He then sees James and John after dawn – they have finished their night’s work and are in their boat, mending their nets.

Mediterranean boats in Réthymnon’s charming Venetian harbour in Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford 2010)

How do you think it must have appeared in those days that Christ was out alone at night and that the first four people he calls are engaged in a dirty and demanding occupation, and that all four leave their families to follow him?

Their friends and neighbours must have reacted with alarm and suspicion, and probably talked about how their response was breaking up their families and breaking down the social fabric of their community.

Do you find your calling to follow Christ difficult when it comes to family relationships and maintaining your relationship with your community, with those you work with or those who are your neighbours?

Sometimes, like Jonah, do you feel like taking another journey, or just going half-way? Nineveh, we are told this morning, was such a big city that after a full day’s walk Jonah had only managed to get half-way towards the city centre.

It was hardly such a big city, but it may have appeared that way to Jonah because he was half-hearted in his response to God’s call. On the way, he must have stopped at every barrow and stall, at every falafel take-away and every coffee shop, taken every opportunity for a smoke or a drink, rather than getting on with God’s call for him to proclaim God’s demands.

But God is not happy with half-measures and half-hearted responses to his call. He demands our all.

I do not know which was a more difficult and demanding task: being a fisherman on the Sea of Galilee, or answering the call to be a Disciple of Christ. But, either way, the four first disciples were going to have no lazy days by the shore or the river bank, or as followers of Christ.

Becoming “fishers of men,” “fishing for people,” is going to bring these Galilean fishers into new relationships, not only with Christ, but with their families and their neighbours, with the tax collectors, with Pharisees, Sadducees and Zealots, with the powers of this world, with Gentiles, with the people who sat in darkness and in the region of the shadow of death.

Sometimes, in the Church, we do not cast our nets out far enough or deep enough. Is it any wonder then that most of the time, when we pull in those nets, we find them half-empty, we find our churches half-empty?

There is a saying that fish come in three sizes – small ones, medium ones and the ones that get away. Too often, those of us who are in ordained ministry know about the small ones, and we are good with the medium ones. But we pay little attention to going after the ones that get away.

Many years ago, while I was hitchhiking and youth-hostelling in the peaks on the borders of Staffordshire and Derbyshire in my late teens, and staying in Ilam Hall, I came across the work of that great Anglican writer, Izaak Walton (1593-1683), known not only for his biographies of John Donne, George Herbert and Richard Hooker, but also known as the author of The Compleat Angler.

In The Compleat Angler, Izaak Walton points out that fishing can teach us patience and discipline. Fishing takes practice, preparation and discipline. Like discipleship, it has to be learned, and learning requires practice before there are any results. And sometimes, whether it is fishing in a river or fishing in the sea, the best results can come from going against the current.

Fishermen taking care of their nets in the fishing harbour at Pythagoreio on the island of Samos (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2010)

Walking along the pier in a small Greek fishing village recently, as I watched the careful, early-morning work of the crews in the trawlers and fishing boats, I realised good fishing does not come about by accident. It also requires paying attention to the nets, moving them carefully, mending them, cleaning them after each and every use, hanging them out to dry.

And fishing is also about noticing the weather, watching the wind and the clouds. Good fishing takes account of contexts … it is incarnational.

And all of these apply to the work of proclaiming the Good News, announcing that the Kingdom of God is at hand.

Time and again in the Gospels, the Kingdom of God is compared to a huge net cast over different numbers of people and species. We are the ones called to cast that net, but to do so we need to attend to our own discipline, endurance, and patience.

Discipleship is not passive following of Christ. As the Church, we cannot hang any sign outside on our office doors saying: “Gone Fishin’.”

Nor can we passively stand by the banks or on the shores, content with two sizes of fish. We are called to go after the ones that others let get away, not just those who come to Church regularly, but their families, their neighbours, the tax collectors, the Pharisees, the Sadducees and the Zealots of our age, the powers of this world, the Gentiles, and especially with the people who sit in darkness and in the region of the shadow of death.

Christ says there is Good News for them too, Christ calls them too into the Kingdom of God. They are not small fish, or medium-sized fish; they are simply the ones we let get away.

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 interior of Saint Bartholomew’s Church, Ballsbridge, Dublin (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2012)

Collect:

Almighty God,
whose Son revealed in signs and miracles
the wonder of your saving presence:
Renew your people with your heavenly grace,
and in all our weakness
sustain us by your mighty power;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Post Communion Prayer:

Almighty Father,
your Son our Saviour Jesus Christ is the light of the world.
May your people,
illumined by your word and sacraments,
shine with the radiance of his glory,
that he may be known, worshipped,
and obeyed to the ends of the earth;
for he is alive and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.

Canon Patrick Comerford is Lecturer in Anglicanism and Liturgy, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute, and a canon of Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin. This sermon was preached at the Solemn Eucharist in Saint Bartholomew’s Church, Ballsbridge, Dublin, on Sunday 22 January 2012.

Remembering my grandfather 90 years after his death

2012-01-21T19:42:00.003Z

A wreath of poppies on my grandfather’s grave in Portrane this afternoon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2012)

Patrick Comerford

I was ninety years ago today that my grandfather, Stephen Edward Comerford, died on 21 January 1921.

This afternoon, I visited Saint Catherine’s, the small old Church of Ireland churchyard where he is buried with my grandmother, Bridget (nee Lynders), between Portrane Castle and the Burrow Beach in Portrane in Fingal, north Co Dublin.

I never knew my grandfather, and there is nothing on the grave to indicate how or why he died. But it was important to visit his grave today on the 90th anniversary of his death, and to lay a wreath of poppies at the foot of his gravestone.

It is only three months since I visited Thessaloniki in northern Greece to retrace my grandfather’s footsteps while he was posted there with the Royal Dublin Fusiliers in the winter of 1915-1916 at the height of World War I.

Stephen Comerford was only 46 or 47 years old when he was stationed in Thessaloniki. As I walked through the streets and up the hills of Thessaloniki last October, I imagined how he must have watched his comrades die from the wounds they received in Balkan battles, from the bitter cold of winter and from the frostbite – many of them young enough to be his sons, while his wife and children wondered whether they were ever going to see him again.

Looking down on the city of Thessaloniki and out to the Thermaic Gulf ... and recalling my grandfather’s days here during World War I (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2011)

On my way up, I was conscious of his presence on those slopes in Thessaloniki. As I stopped at a church here, a monastery there, I imagined the prayers he prayed, hoping he would return alive to his wife and children in Ranelagh and to her family in Portrane?

Yes, Stephen Comerford returned alive from Thessaloniki – discharged in May 1916 on medical grounds because he had contracted malaria in Thessaloniki. Had he not returned alive, my father would not have been conceived, and I would not have been born.

Thessaloniki was very much on my mind as I laid that poppy wrath this afternoon. But the inscription on his gravestone makes no mention of his part in the Royal Dublin Fusiliers, or of how he had died.

Ironically, the gravestone also gives the wrong age for him at the time of his death. Stephen Comerford (1867-1921) was born on 28 December 1867, and died on 21 January 1921 at the age of 53. But the gravestone says he died at the age of 49 – the age he was at the end of World War I and at the time of my father’s birth.

As his health deteriorated, he must have remained 49 for ever in my grandmother’s memory.

Stephen and Bridget (Lynders) Comerford on their wedding day in Donabate in 1905 (Comerford family collection)

The English wartime poet Rupert Brooke wrote before he died in World War I:

If I should die, think only this of me:
That there’s some corner of a foreign field
That is for ever England. There shall be
In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;
A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,
Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam,
A body of England's, breathing English air,
Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.

In Ireland, my grandfather remained 49 for ever in my grandmother’s heart. But there is some corner in Thessaloniki that is for ever Ireland, and there is this one part of Portrane that is for ever Thessaloniki.

Perhaps my grandfather might have enjoyed my cutting of the Vasilopita with the Greek community in Dublin last night. But his memory was honoured today. This old soldier was not forgotten, even after ninety years. In the centenary of commemorations we are facing over the next decade, the contribution of men like my grandfather must not be undervalued, still less forgotten.

The tide was out on the Burrow Beach, and in fading lights of the afternoon there were small ripples and pools in the golden sands. As I headed towards the Quay, I resolved that by the one-hundredth anniversary of his death, there should be a new gravestone, recalling my grandfather’s true age, his part in the Royal Dublin Fusiliers ... and, perhaps, even a mention of Thessaloniki.

Celebrating New Year with the Greek and Chinese communities

2012-01-21T12:54:00.005Z

Father Prodromos and Dr Labros Chatzis, President of the Hellenic Community of Ireland, at the cutting of the Vasilopita in Corfu last night (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2012)

Patrick Comerford

I was in Corfu last night for the cutting of the Vasilopita – a traditional Greek family ceremony that takes place after New Year’s Day but before the beginning of Great Lent.

No, not Corfu in Greece. Corfu, the new Greek restaurant in Parliament Street, close to City Hall in Dublin.

The restaurant was packed with members of the Hellenic Community – Greeks and Cypriots, and a few Irish (and even Mexican) friends too. There were so many of us there last night that Adam Kritidis and his colleagues worked hard in moving chairs and tables around so we could all sit together.

Long tables into the early hours of the morning in Corfu in Parliament Street last night (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2012)

Greeks traditionally eat Vasilopita, a cake in which a gold coin has been baked, on 1 January. Saint Basil, whose feast day falls on 1 January, has a Santa-like place in Greek lore. Many private or public institutions – such as societies, clubs, workplaces, companies, and so on – cut their Vasilopita at some other time between New Year’s Day and the beginning of the Great Lent, and those celebrations range from impromptu potluck gatherings to formal receptions or balls.

Traditionally, the cake is served in a sequence: the first piece is set aside for Saint Basil, one of the “Three Hierarchs”; the second piece is for the home; and the rest of the cake is then handed out amongst family members, from oldest to youngest.

Last night’s cake was blessed by Father Prodromos, the deacon in the Greek Orthodox parish, who is finishing his degree at Maynooth and hopes to be ordained priest in Iraklion in Crete later this summer. The cake was then cut by Father Prodromos and Dr Labros Chatzis, President of the Hellenic Community of Ireland. The first pieces were handed to the Greek and Cypriot ambassadors, and I was honoured to be

A gold coin is wrapped and hidden in the cake by slipping it into the dough before baking, and whoever finds the coin in their slice is said to be promised a lucky year. I did not find the coin, but I felt blessed to be handed the priest’s slice by Father Prodromos and Dr Chatzis.

The Three Holy Hierarchs

The Three Holy Hierarchs (Οι Τρείς Ιεράρχες) are Saint Basil the Great (Saint Basil of Caesarea), Saint Gregory the Theologian (Saint Gregory of Nazianzus) and Saint John Chrysostom. These three highly influential bishops from the Early Church played pivotal roles in shaping our theology.

In 11th century Constantinople, there were disputes about which of the three hierarchs was the greatest. Some argued that Saint Basil was superior to the other two because of his explanations of Christian faith and his monastic example. Those who argued for Saint John Chrysostom countered that the “Golden Mouthed” (Χρυσόστομος) Patriarch of Constantinople was unmatched in both eloquence and in bringing sinners to repentance. Those who preferred Saint Gregory the Theologian pointed to the majesty, purity and profundity of his sermons and his defence of the faith against the Arian heresy.

All three have separate feast days in January: Saint Basil on 1 January, Saint Gregory on 25 January, and Saint John Chrysostom on 27 January. Eastern Orthodox tradition says the three hierarchs appeared together in 1084 in a vision to Saint John Mauropous of Euchaita and said that they were equal before God: “There are no divisions among us, and no opposition to one another.” As a result, around 1100 the Emperor Alexios Komnenos declared 30 January a feast day commemorating all three in common.

The 60-ft Chinese dragon from Hong Kong marked the beginning of the Year of the Dragon in Temple Bar last night (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2012)

Earlier in the evening I was invited to Meeting House Square in Temple Bar for the Dublin inauguration of the Chinese New Year, in the presence of the Lord Mayor of Dublin, Andrew Montague, and the Chinese Ambassador, Luo Linquan.

The Chinese New Year, which begins on Monday, is the Year of the Dragon, and the highlight of last night’s performance was a specially-commissioned, 60-ft Chinese dragon, made in Hong Kong.

I was told last night that I too was born in the Year of the Dragon – not that these things matter to me. But it is said that those born in the Year of the Dragon like to spend money and are charitable with others, that we are financial risk-takers and that we are usually successful. In addition, they say, we are always straightforward in financial dealings and can always be trusted.

I emphasise, I was told this – not that these things matter to me.

I was also told of a Chinese proverb that says: “If you ignore the dragon, it will eat you. If you try to confront the dragon, it will overpower you. If you ride the dragon, you will take advantage of its might and its power.”

A preview of Varvara Shavrova’s ‘The Opera’ in Meeting House Square in Dublin last night (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2012)

Afterwards, we were invited to the Gallery of Photography for a preview of The Opera, a spell-binding work on the traditional Peking Opera by Varvara Shavrova, with her sensitive insights into the fragile world of one of the most revered Chinese art forms.

It was busy, multicultural evening, with beautiful insights into the diversity and joys of the communities that make up this city today.

Earlier in the day, walking back into the city centre from a funeral in All Saints’ Church, Phibsborough, I passed by Greek Street, at the back of the Four Courts ... and wondered that perhaps whether this old street name indicates that Dublin has always been a culturally diverse and rich city.

Greek Street in Dublin ... a sign of centuries-old diversity multiculturalism (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2012)

Anglicanism 1.2: Who we are (2): Introduction to the Anglican Communion today

2012-01-19T11:30:00.003Z

Lambeth Palace, the official London residence of the Archbishops of Canterbury since the 13th century, also gives its name to the Lambeth Conference (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2011)

Church of Ireland Theological Institute

MTh Year II

EM8825: Anglican Studies in an Irish context:

Patrick Comerford

Thursdays: 10 a.m. to 12 noon, The Hartin Room.

Thursday, 19 January 2012

The compass rose, the symbol of the Anglican Communion, signifying its worldwide membership and decentralised organisation. It is surmounted by a bishop’s mitre, in the centre is the cross of Saint George, and the Greek motto is Ἡ ἀλήθεια ἐλευθερώσει ὑμᾶς, The truth will set you free (John 8: 32). It was designed by Canon Edward Nason West of the Cathedral of Saint John the Divine, New York

The present state of the Anglican Communion:

The Anglican Communion is a communion of churches spread across all the inhabited continents, bound together through a number of instruments.

Traditionally there have been four instruments of unity, now known as the “Instruments of Communion”:

● The Archbishop of Canterbury, who calls and convenes the Lambeth Conference and the Primates’ meetings. He is often referred to as a “focus of unity.”
● The Lambeth Conference, first called in 1867 and now meeting every 10 years – the last meeting was in Canterbury in 2008.
● The Anglican Consultative Council, formed in 1968. Its last meeting, ACC-14, was in Kingston, Jamaica, from 2-12 May 2009, and ACC-15 meets in Christchurch, New Zealand, from 27 October to 7 November 2012. The Church of Ireland members are the Revd Dr Maurice Elliott (Director of the Church of Ireland Theological Institute) and Mr Wilfred Baker (Cork).
● The Primates’ Meeting, which takes place every two or three years. The last four meetings were in Dromantine, near Newry (2006), Dar es Salaam, Tanzania (February 2007), Alexandria, Egypt (February 2009), and the Emmaus Retreat Centre in Swords, Co Dublin (25-30 January 2011).

In addition, roles in maintaining Anglican unity are played by:

● The Standing Committee of the Anglican Consultative Council, increasingly being referred to as the Standing Committee of the Anglican Communion. This is a 14-member group (15, if the Archbishop of Canterbury is present). Seven members are elected by the ACC; five are members of the Primates’ Standing Committee; and the elected Chair and Vice-Chair of the ACC. Its defined function is to assist the Churches of the Anglican Communion in advancing the work of their mission worldwide.
● The secretary of the Anglican Communion Office, at present Canon Ken Kearon from the Church of Ireland.
● The Mothers’ Union.
● The mission agencies, although they have no instrument of unity that holds them together.

The debates aimed at dealing with diversity and tension within the Anglican Communion and on the Anglican Covenant now include discussions about the instruments of communion or unity and the discipline needed to hold together the Anglican Communion and to deal with any breaches of the Covenant after it has been ratified.

Of course, there are major questions about the continuing place within the Anglican Communion of those provinces or dioceses that fail to, or refuse to, sign up for the covenant.

What is the Anglican Communion?

The Anglican Communion, which describes itself as the Anglican/Episcopal family, consists of about 80 million Christians who are members of 44 different churches. It is the third largest communion or international denomination of Christians, following Roman Catholics and the Eastern Orthodox Churches. The Anglican Communion is made up of 34 provinces, four United Churches, and six other churches, spread across the globe.

These include four churches in the Indian sub-continent in which Anglicans merged with other denominations to form new, united churches (Bangladesh, North India, Pakistan and South India). There are four national churches (Spain, Portugal, Sri Lanka and Bermuda), that are still so small that they, along with the small Anglican presence on the Falkland Islands, accept the Archbishop of Canterbury as their Metropolitan.

Ten Anglican churches in the Caribbean, Central and Latin America have special links to the Episcopal Church in the US (TEC). For example, the Diocese of Haiti is the largest diocese, in terms of numbers, in TEC.

The newest Anglican province is the Hong Kong Sheng Kung Hui Hong Kong and Macao, with three dioceses (Hong Kong Island, Eastern Kowloon, Western Kowloon), and one missionary area (Macao).

Many of the dioceses in these churches are small compared with the dioceses of the Church of Ireland. Others are vast: the Diocese in Europe alone, which is part of the Church of England, stretches from Morocco in North Africa to Vladivostok in Siberian East Asia. There have been Anglican churches on Continental Europe since the early 17th century, but the diocese dates from the establishment of the Diocese of Gibraltar in 1842, and its territorial embrace overlaps with a number of other Anglican churches and dioceses:

Saint George’s Anglican Church in a quiet corner of Salamanca in Madrid (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2009)

● The Convocation of American Churches in Europe, which is part of TEC and has its own bishop, has a cathedral in Paris and churches and missions in Belgium, France, Germany, Italy, Switzerland.
● The Spanish Episcopal Reformed Church
● The Lusitanian Church (Portugal).

The Episcopal Church in Jerusalem and the Middle East is spread across three continents, from Libya in North Africa, to Cyprus in the Mediterranean, to the Gulf States and Iran, to Ethiopia in the Horn of Africa.

As Mark Chapman says in The Anglican Covenant (p. 2):

“Anyone who travels across the world will soon realize that in some ways Anglicanism is a bit like Microsoft or any other global brand – in that it covers most of the inhabited world, and is the third largest Christian denomination after Roman Catholicism and Eastern Orthodoxy, with perhaps 80 million members. Rowan Williams, the Archbishop of Canterbury, may not be quite as well known as Bill Gates, but I would guess that his beard and his eyebrows command a pretty high degree of international recognition.”

The Anglican Church in Bucharest ... a variety of languages reflecting the origins of the Anglican community in the Romanian capital (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

A variety of languages is in use throughout the churches of the Anglican Communion, both in the liturgy and in the common, spoken language of the people. At meetings of the Parochial Church Council in the Church of the Resurrection in Bucharest, I have heard prayers in both English and Romanian, the walls of the church are decorated with icons with inscriptions in English, Greek, Romanian and Church Slavonic. The chaplain is the Revd Patrick Irwin, from a well-known Irish clerical missionary family.

The linguistic riches of the Anglican Communion include:

● Portuguese in Portugal, Brazil, Mozambique and the new Diocese of Angola;
● Spanish in Spain, Mexico, much of Central and Latin America, and also in the Philippines and in many parts of the United States;
● French in Rwanda, Burundi and DR Congo;
● A mixture of Arabic and English in Sudan, Egypt and throughout the Middle East.
● A variety of languages in the Episcopal Church in Jerusalem and the Middle East, including Greek, Turkish, French, Arabic, Ethiopic, and languages from the Indian sub-continent and the Philippines.
● There are Anglican dioceses where the first language of the liturgy and language used in synods and church administration are Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Swahili, &c. Indeed, English is a minority language in the Anglican Communion.

The origins of the Anglican Communion

Mark Chapman says that in the days of the British Empire there was an obvious connection between Anglicanism and England … But while many of the member churches in the Anglican Communion claim a direct link with the Church of England, and see this as an important element in what defines them as Anglican, it is not always so, and has not always been so.

There are four Anglican churches on these islands:

● The Church of England,
● The Church of Ireland,
● The Scottish Episcopal Church; and
● The Church in Wales.

These four churches have distinctively different origins. The Church of Ireland, the Church in Wales and the Scottish Episcopal Church point out that the origins of Christianity in their countries predate the mission in England of Saint Augustine of Canterbury, who was sent from Rome in the year 597.

The Church of Ireland claims to be the successor to the ancient Celtic and Anglo-Norman churches. In the late mediaeval period, the churches in the dioceses in the ancient Viking cities of Ireland, including Dublin, Waterford, Cork and Limerick, sometimes continued to look to Canterbury for their episcopal orders and succession.

The reformation in Scotland was followed by turmoil over whether the reformed church should be episcopal or Presbyterian in its style of church government. After the Episcopal Church was disestablished in 1689, it suffered under penal laws in force from 1746-1792. This church developed its own (high) liturgy; it had strong links with the dissenting, high church Nonjurors of the Church of England, and did not adopt the 39 Articles until the end of the 18th century.

Historically, there have been strong links not only between the Church of Ireland and the Church of England, but there have also been strong links between the Church of Ireland and the Scottish Episcopal Church.

At the restoration of Charles II, and the restoration of the episcopal model of church in the Church of Ireland in 1660, four of the eight remaining bishops of the Church of Ireland were of Scottish birth, or of immediate Scottish ancestry. Later, when it came to framing its own Ecclesiastical Canons, the Episcopal Church of Scotland looked not only to the 1603 Canons of the Church of England, and the 1636 Canons of the Church of Scotland, but also to the 1634 Canons of the Church of Ireland.

Just as it would be wrong to define the distinctive characteristics of the Church of Ireland or the Scottish Episcopal Church within the strictures of our links with the Church of England – in so far as it is missing a lot of the subtleties and salient facts – so too the Anglican Churches around the world cannot be defined as Anglican solely because of their links, directly or indirectly, to the Church of England.

Some of those churches trace their episcopal succession, their liturgies, their ways of doing theology, their stories, to the Episcopal Church of Scotland, including the Episcopal Church in the US (TEC), which in turn introduced Anglicanism to many parts of Latin America, to Korea, to Japan and to many parts of China.

Anglican origins and Irish missionaries

Charles Inglis from Glencolumbcille, Co Donegal … the first Anglican bishop in Canada

Some of the churches in the Anglican Communion trace their historical origins, at least in part, back to the Church of Ireland:

Canada: The first Anglican bishop in Canada was Charles Inglis from Glencolumbcille, Co Donegal; Toronto has often been called the “Belfast of Ontario.”

South Africa: The first Anglican celebration of the Holy Communion in South Africa was by a priest of the Church of Ireland, and church historians see this event as marking the origins of the present-day Anglican Church of Southern Africa (ACNA).

Many other Anglican churches, including those in Kenya, Uganda, Sudan, owe their growth and present numbers to Irish missionaries. Irish missionaries were pioneers in establishing an Anglican presence in parts of Persia/Iran, India, China, &c.

Indigenous Anglican churches

In addition, some churches in the Anglican Communion are indigenous churches that grew up in their own special circumstances, and looked not to the Church of England, but to the US or even to Ireland for episcopal succession:

Mexico: The Anglican Church of Mexico originated indigenously in 1810, and sought orders from the Episcopal Church in the US.

Spain: The Spanish Reformed Episcopal Church arose through the work of a former Roman Catholic priest. At first, it was under the pastoral care of the Bishop of Mexico, but it received its episcopal orders from the Bishop of Meath in 1894, and was not fully integrated into the Anglican Communion until 1980. Is it Anglican? Is it indigenous? Is it a daughter church of the Church of Ireland?

Portugal: the Lusitanian Church (the Portuguese Episcopal Church) was formed by dissident Roman Catholic priests who formed congregations and adapted the 1662 Book of Common Prayer.

India: The Mar Thoma Syrian Church of Malabar in India, although not a full member of the Anglican Communion, is in full communion with all the member churches, and sends its bishops to the Lambeth Conferences. Yet its origins are to be found in the Syrian Orthodox Church in India.

These churches in the Anglican Communion display diversity in language, culture, origins, and ethnicity. So to be Anglican is not to share a common English heritage, culture, or liturgy, nor is to look to the See of Canterbury as the source of Episcopal government.

It would be wrong to equate Anglican with some form of ecclesial “Englishness.”

It would be wrong to assume that the Anglican Communion finds its identity through links with the Church of England.

Some questions:

● What do we mean by Anglican?
● What do we mean by the Anglican Communion?
● Where did those terms “Anglican” and “Anglican Communion” originate?
● How did the first Anglican churches outside these islands spring up?

The origins of a global Anglicanism:

Initially, it may be said, Anglicanism of the English variety followed not only the colonial flag, but also trade and commerce, and the penal system. But it soon started to spread too due to the endeavours of the missionary societies, including the Society for the Promotion of Christian Knowledge (SPCK, 1698), the (United) Society for the Propagation of the Gospel (SPG, 1701; now USPG – Anglicans in World Mission), and the Church Mission(ary) Society (CMS, 1799).

North America: The Eucharist was first celebrated according to Anglican rites in North America in present-day Canada at Frobisher Bay in 1578. In what is today the US, the first celebration of the Eucharist according to Anglican rites was at Jamestown in Virginia in 1607.

Latin America: The roots of the Anglican Church in Latin America were being planted with the arrival of English colonists on the Miskita coast in Central America from 1740. Expatriate Anglican chaplaincies were established in 1810 in Brazil, where the church today is Portuguese-speaking.

Europe: Soon there was also a diffuse and diverse Anglican presence on the European Continent. Anglican chaplaincies were established in ports in the Netherlands and other parts of Europe in the 17th century, and further afield as the Levant and East India Companies flourished. From the time William Laud was Archbishop of Canterbury in the 1630s, Anglicans abroad, in the colonies or in the centres of trade, were theoretically under the jurisdiction of the Bishops of London, not of the Archbishops of Canterbury.

In the 17th century there was an Anglican presence in such diverse places in Europe as the Dutch ports, including Amsterdam; in Zakynthos and Piraeus (both now in Greece but then part of the Venetian and Ottoman empires), where the presence of the Levant Company meant there were Anglican services and Anglican burials; and in Paris, where there was also a Nonjuror Anglican presence at the Jacobite court in exile, those serving it including the former Chancellor of Connor, the Irish theologian, Charles Leslie.

Anglicans in North America

Bishop George Berkeley … an early missionary from the Church of Ireland

With the foundation of SPCK in 1698 and SPG in 1701, both under the patronage of the bishops of both the Church of England and the Church of Ireland, a new missionary era opened up for Anglicans. In North America, the early SPG missionaries included Bishop George Berkeley, who went to Bermuda.

In the 18th century, SPG and later CMS were active in missionary work in Canada. The first regular church services in Canada began in 1710 at Port Royal, and the first Anglican church built in present-day Canada was Saint Paul’s, Halifax, built in 1750.

By now there was strong pressure for bishops to serve the church in the colonies. Anyone wanting to work as an Anglican priest in the colonies had to be ordained in England by the Bishop of London. Except in Scotland, where the penal laws enforced diocesan and episcopal reorganisation on the nonjuring Episcopal Church, a royal charter was needed to create new Anglican dioceses, and new bishops had to be consecrated under a royal mandate. Among those who were early advocates of providing bishops for the colonies in America was the Co Donegal missionary, Charles Inglis.

The American Revolution meant the expulsion of many loyalist Anglicans, including Inglis, to neighbouring Canada. But it left Episcopalians in the new US without bishops. In 1783, the clergy of Connecticut elected Samuel Seabury (1729-1796) as their bishop and sent him to London for consecration. But legal constraints prohibited the bishops of the Church of England from consecrating him – there was no diocese created by royal charter, no royal mandate to consecrate him, and he could be regarded as either a foreigner or a traitor.

Seabury turned to the nonjuring bishops of the Episcopal Church of Scotland, who consecrated him in 1784. He returned to America, promising to adapt the distinctive Scottish Communion in his office, and providing a line of episcopal succession that owes its origins not to the Church of England, but to Scotland.

By now, the church in the US was being slowly organised, and the convention in Philadelphia in 1785 and the election of a presiding bishop in 1789 mark not, as Charles Long asserts, the formation of “the first Anglican Province independent of the Church of England,” but the formation of the first Anglican Province outside British jurisdiction.

Eventually, in 1786, an act was passed allowing the Archbishop of Canterbury to consecrate bishops who were not crown subjects. In the following year, two more Americans were consecrated at Lambeth Palace. That year also saw the consecration of the Irish-born Charles Inglis as Bishop of Nova Scotia. An Act passed in 1819 allowed the ordination in the Church of England of clergy to serve outside the Church of England, provided they were going to minister in the colonies. The act speaks of them of being “ordained for the cure of souls in his Majesty’s foreign possessions.” An Act of 1841 allowed the Archbishops of Canterbury and York to consecrate bishops to work “in any foreign country” without requiring the oath of allegiance.

Anglican expansion beyond Europe and North America

So, what about Anglican expansion outside Europe and North America?

In West Africa, Anglican mission work began on the Gold Coast (present-day Ghana) in 1752.

South Africa: The oldest Anglican province in Africa is the Anglican Church of Southern Africa. Although Roman Catholic missionaries had arrived with the early Portuguese explorers, and the Dutch Reformed Church was present since the 17th century, the first Anglican presence in Cape Town is recorded in 1806.

But Bishop Harry de Vere White, who chronicled the labours of Irish SPG missionaries, traces the origins of the ACSA to the arrival of the first SPG missionary in South Africa, the Revd William Wright from Cork. Wright arrived at the Cape on 21 March 1821, and White sees Wright’s first celebration of the Holy Communion according to Anglican rites at Cape Town as “the beginning of the Province of South[ern] Africa.”

In India, SPCK worked in areas where there were British traders but no British colonies. There, unsure about the legal status of the Church of England clergy, SPCK initially employed Lutheran clergy from Denmark. In 1814, a bishop was consecrated for Calcutta, but his jurisdiction included most of Asia and much of Africa too, with Australia as an archdeaconry in his diocese.

Australia: The Anglican Church came to Australia in 1788 with the “First Fleet,” primarily convicts and military personnel. Free settlers soon followed, and Australia received its first Anglican bishop in 1836.

The Anglican Churches in south-east Asia date back to a chaplaincy formed in West Malaysia in 1805.

Two Anglican bishops were consecrated for the West Indies in 1824.

Anglicanism was spreading rapidly, in an unplanned and uncontrolled way, following commerce, colonialism, trade and the penal system, and the travels of explorers and adventurers. It was outside the grasp of the Archbishops of Canterbury and York, and outside the limitations of any legislation passed by parliament in Westminster.

In 1841, the Colonial Bishoprics’ Fund was created, and speeded up the expansion of the colonial episcopate. The first bishop for Southern Africa was appointed in 1847, the first bishop for south-east Asia was consecrated in 1855.

The tomb of Bishop George Augustus Selwyn in Lichfield Cathedral ... his introduction of synodical government in his diocese influenced church governance many parts of the Anglican Communion (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2007)

In many colonies, the Anglican churches were seeking or finding their own measure of autonomy: in 1844, Bishop George Augustus Selwyn of New Zealand called an informal synod; New Zealand was granted a measure of self-government in 1852, and in 1857 the Church of New Zealand received its own constitution.

Bishop Samuel Crowther, the first black African Anglican bishop … from a window in CMS offices in Oxford

By 1864, Anglicanism had its first black African bishop with the consecration of Samuel Adjai Crowther (1806-1891) as Bishop for Nigeria. Three years later, in 1867, there were nearly 50 bishops in the British colonies, and 35 dioceses in the USA.

A new communion?

Anglicanism was no longer a collection of churches offering to serve people from England, Wales, Scotland and Ireland. It was no longer even confined to areas under British rule. Even in the Church of England and the Church of Ireland, there were early questions too of who we were in communion with.

In Ireland and in England at the end of the 17th century, our churches were happy to welcome the Huguenots. They were welcomed, found a place within the church, and allowed to continue their ministries, provided all future ordinations were carried out by bishops.

In the early 18th century, Archbishop William Wake (1657-1737) of Canterbury corresponded on Christian unity and his hopes for inter-communion of some form with Continental theologians such as:

● the German Moravian bishop and theologian Daniel Ernst Jablonski (1660-1741), who tried but failed to bring about a union of German Lutherans and Calvinists;
● the Swiss Calvinist theologian, Jean-Alphonse Turrettini (1671-1737) of Geneva;
● the French Gallicans, including Piers de Girardin and Louis Ellies Dupin (1657-1719), who also had a vision of uniting the Orthodox and Western churches.

The Nonjurors had a scheme for their form of Anglicanism to be recognised by the Patriarch of Jerusalem, seeing the Eastern Orthodox Church as natural partners for forming a wider church family.

The first missionary endeavours beyond the colonial boundaries saw Anglicans in SPCK happy to employ Danish and German Lutherans, provided they used the liturgy of The Book of Common Prayer. In the early 19th century, Anglicans were happy to collaborate with the Lutherans in establishing a bishopric in Jerusalem.

If the English language or some links with British sovereignty did not define “Anglicanism,” then adherence to The Book of Common Prayer or the 39 Articles did not provide that definition either.

The Scottish liturgy, which was considerably “higher” than the 1662 Book of Common Prayer, influenced and shaped the liturgy of the Episcopal Church in the US (TEC); for a long time, the 39 Articles were not part of the tradition of the Scottish Episcopal Church until 1811, and when they were adopted by the Episcopal Church in the US, they were modified to delete all references to the English sovereign.

The term ‘Anglican’

The terms Anglican and Anglicanism derive etymologically from the Latin anglicanus, meaning English. It is a term that predates the Reformation, that had medieval usage, and that can be found as early as the 13th century, when the Magna Carta in 1215 refers to Anglicana ecclesia, the English Church. The same phrase is used again at the time of the Reformation – in 1534 in the act confirming the royal supremacy, and in 1562 in John Jewel’s defence of the English Reformation, Apologia Ecclesiae Anglicanae.

In the 18th and 19th centuries, however, the term “Anglican” begins to refer more specifically to a distinct theological position. The Dublin-born political philosopher Edmund Burke refers to “Catholicks, Anglicans or Calvinists,” and the historian Thomas Babington Macaulay to Anglican doctrine. The French form anglicanisme occurs, it seems, for the first time in 1817, presumably by analogy with gallicanisme, and John Henry Newman uses the phrase “Anglicanism” from 1838 on.

The term “Anglican Communion” is only first used in 1851, and eventually is used as a defining term at the first Lambeth Conference in 1867.

Origins in disputes

Lambeth Palace, seen from Westminster on the opposite bank of the River Thames … the venue of the first Lambeth Conference in 1867 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2011)

The origins of that Anglican Communion as we have come to know it can be found in two legal battles and a doctrinal dispute that rocked the Anglican churches in the 1850s and 1860s. The first of these legal battles became known as the Eton College Case. In 1857, the courts ruled that the established Church of England could not exist in those colonies where there was a local legislature.

A year earlier, the Bishop of Cape Town, Robert Gray, called a diocesan synod in 1856 – a synod that preceded by 12 years the first diocesan synod in the Church of England, which was held in the Diocese of Lichfield in 1868.

Some years after his synod in Cape Town, Gray – by now accepted as Archbishop of Cape Town and Metropolitan – attempted to depose the Bishop of Natal, John Colenso, for heresy in 1863. Colenso appealed to the Privy Council in London, which ruled in March 1865 that Gray and his synod could only exercise authority over those who voluntarily accepted it. It also held that the letters patent issued to the bishop were invalid because the Cape Colony had its own legislature.

By the time the judgment was issued, Gray had tried Colenso on the grounds that Colenso had sworn canonical obedience to him as metropolitan, thus voluntarily accepting his jurisdiction. The rulings from Gray and the Privy Council left a complete mess. The letters patent were invalid, bishops had been appointed by patents issued in London and yet there was no established church for them to serve in because the colony had its own legislature.

It was a difficult mess from which the churches in the colonies would find it even more difficult to disentangle themselves.

The crisis over the deposition of Colenso and the problems it left inspired the Irish-born Bishop of Ontario, 40-year-old John Travers Lewis (1825-1901), and the Provincial Synod of the Anglican Church in Canada in 1865 to issue a formal request to the Archbishop of Canterbury, Charles Longley, asking him to call a General Council of the Anglican Communion “in every land.”

Some English bishops doubted the wisdom or even the legality of calling such a conference. But the idea was supported at a meeting of the Lower House of the Convocation of Canterbury in May 1866. But Longley conferred with other bishops beyond the boundaries of the Church of England and the Church of Ireland, beyond the colonial boundaries too: among those he consulted was the American Episcopalian Bishop of Illinois, Henry John Whitehouse (1803-1874).

It was clear, as the invitations were being sent out, that the proposed meeting could neither enact canons nor make any decision that was binding on the Church. Nevertheless, the invitations went out to “the bishops in visible communion with the United Church of England and Ireland” to a meeting under the Presidency of the Archbishop of Canterbury in Lambeth Palace. The invitations were sent to 150 bishops: 67 attended, although the Archbishop of York, petulant if not hostile from the first refused.

And so, the first Lambeth Conference met from 24-27 September 1867 and the Anglican Communion was formally established because of a dispute involving a church that traces its origins to an Irish missionary, and because of the response to that dispute by an Irish-born bishop in Canada, John Travers Lewis. Lewis was born in Garrycloyne Castle, Co Cork, and had been a curate in Newtown Butler, Co Fermanagh, before going as a missionary in 1849 to Canada, where he ended his days as Archbishop of Ontario.

Next week:

2.1: The mission of Patrick and early Irish Christianity.

Seminar:

2.2: Challenges facing the communion of global Anglicanism today, including the Anglican Covenant.

Reading for that seminar:

The Anglican Covenant (supplied).

Appendix 1:

Member Churches of the Anglican Communion:

A world map showing the Provinces of the Anglican Communion (blue), as well as the Churches in full communion with the Anglican Communion: the Nordic and Baltic Episcopal Lutheran Churches of the Porvoo Communion (green), and the Old Catholic Churches in the Utrecht Union (red)

Africa (11):

The Anglican Church of Burundi; the Church of the Province of Central Africa; Province de l’Eglise Anglicane du Congo; the Anglican Church of Kenya; the Church of Nigeria (Anglican Communion); l’Eglise Episcopal au Rwanda; the Anglican Church of Southern Africa; the Episcopal Church of the Sudan; the Anglican Church of Tanzania; the Church of the Province of Uganda; the Church of the Province of West Africa.

Africa, Asia and Europe (1):

The dioceses of the Episcopal Church in Jerusalem and the Middle East: the Diocese of Egypt with North Africa, Ethiopia, Eritrea, Somalia and Djibouti (blue); the Diocese of Cyprus and the Gulf (red); the Diocese of Egypt (orange); the Diocese of Iran (green)

The Episcopal Church in Jerusalem and the Middle East.

Asia (12):

The Church of Bangladesh; Hong Kong Sheng Kung Hui; the Church of the Province of the Indian Ocean; the Nippon Sei Ko Kai (the Anglican Communion in Japan); the Anglican Church of Korea; the Church of the Province of Myanmar (Burma); the Church of North India (United); the Church of Pakistan (United); the Episcopal Church in the Philippines; the Church of the Province of South-East Asia; the Church of South India (United); the Church of Ceylon (Sri Lanka; Extra-Provincial to the Archbishop of Canterbury).

Australasia and Oceania (4):

The Anglican Church in Aotearoa, New Zealand and Polynesia; the Anglican Church of Australia; the Church of the Province of Melanesia; the Anglican Church of Papua New Guinea.

Central and Latin America (8):

Igreja Episcopal Anglicana do Brasil; Iglesia Anglicana de la Region Central de America; la Iglesia Anglicana de Mexico; Iglesia Anglicana del Cono Sur de America; the Church in the Province of the West Indies; Iglesia Episcopal de Cuba; Bermuda (E-P to Canterbury); Falkland Islands (E-P to Canterbury).

North America (2):

The Anglican Church of Canada; The Episcopal Church (TEC, formerly ECUSA).

In addition, the Anglican Church of North America is demanding recognition within the Anglican Communion.

Europe (6):

The Church of England; the Church of Ireland; the Scottish Episcopal Church; the Church in Wales; the Lusitanian Church (E-P to Canterbury); the Reformed Episcopal Church of Spain (E-P to Canterbury).

Additional reading:

The reports and resolutions of the Lambeth Conferences.

The Anglican Covenant.

For a full text of the Anglican Covenant see: http://www.anglicancommunion.org/commission/covenant/final/text.cfm

P. Avis, The Anglican understanding of the Church (London: SPCK, 2000).
P. Avis, The Identity of Anglicanism: essentials of Anglican ecclesiology (London: T&T Clark/Continuum, 2007).
I. Bunting (ed), Celebrating the Anglican Way (London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1996).
M Chapman, Anglicanism: a very short introduction (Oxford: OUP, 2006).
MD Chapman (ed), The Anglican Covenant: Unity and Diversity in the Anglican Communion (London: Mowbray/Continuum, 2008).
C. Chartres (ed), Why I am still an Anglican (London: Continuum, 2006).
D. Dormor et al (eds.), Anglicanism: The answer to modernism (Continuum, 2003).
GR Evans, JR Wright (eds), The Anglican Tradition (London: SPCK, 1991).
R. Hannaford (ed), The Future of Anglicanism (Leominster: Gracewing, 1996).
C. Helfling, C. Shattuck (eds), The Oxford Guide to the Book of Common Prayer (Oxford: OUP, 2006).
R. Holloway (ed), The Anglican Tradition (London: Mowbray, 1984).
CH Long (ed), Who are the Anglicans? (Cincinnati: Forward, 1988).
A. McGrath, The SPCK Handbook of Anglican Theologians (London: SPCK, 1998).
S. Neill, Anglicanism (Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1958 and later eds).
S. Platten (ed), Anglicanism and the Western Christian Tradition (Norwich: Canterbury Press, 2003).
J. Rosenthal (ed), The Essential Guide to The Anglican Communion (Harrisburg: Morehouse, 1998).
C. Sugden, V. Samuel (eds.), Anglican Life and Witness (SPCK, 1997).
S. Sykes, The Integrity of Anglicanism (London: Mowbray, 1978).
S. Sykes, Unashamed Anglicanism (London: DLT, 1995).
S. Sykes, J. Booty (eds), The Study of Anglicanism (London: SPCK, 1988).
The Virginia Report: The Report of the Inter-Anglican Theological and Doctrinal Commission (Harrisburg: Morehouse, 1999).
JCW Wand, Anglicanism in History and Today (London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1963).
SR White, Authority and Anglicanism (London: SCM, 1996).
The Windsor Report 2004: The Lambeth Commission on Communion (London: Anglican Communion Office, 2004).
A. Wingate et al (eds), Anglicanism: A Global Communion (London: Mowbray, 1998).
WJ Wolf, JE Booty, OC Thomas, The Spirit of Anglicanism (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1979).

Canon Patrick Comerford is Lecturer in Anglicanism and Liturgy, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute, Dublin. This lecture on 19 January 2012 was part of the MTh Year II course, EM8825: Anglican Studies in an Irish context

Anglicanism 1.1: Who we are (1): Introduction to Anglicanism in Ireland today

2012-01-19T10:30:00.005Z

The bishops of the Church of Ireland at the General Synod in Galway

Church of Ireland Theological Institute

MTh Year II

EM8825: Anglican Studies in an Irish context:

Patrick Comerford

Thursdays: 10 a.m. to 12 noon, The Hartin Room.

Thursday, 19 January 2012

Who we are (1): Introduction to Anglicanism in Ireland today:

Who are we?

The West Door, Saint Canice’s Cathedral, Kilkenny … the Preamble and Declaration of 1870 says the Church of Ireland is “the Ancient Catholic and Apostolic Church of Ireland (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2010)

The Preamble and Declaration adopted at Disestablishment by the General Convention of the Church of Ireland in 1870, offers us a four-point “solemn” definition of the Church of Ireland on behalf of “the archbishops and bishops of this the Ancient Catholic and Apostolic Church of Ireland, together with the representatives of the clergy and laity ...”

1, The first point says the Church of Ireland:

(1), accepts and believes all “the Canonical Scriptures of the Old and New Testament, as given by inspiration of God, and containing all things necessary to salvation,” and continues to profess the faith of Christ as professed by the Primitive Church.

(2), continues “to minister the doctrine, and sacraments, and the discipline of Christ, as the Lord hath commanded; and will maintain inviolate the three orders of bishops, priests or presbyters, and deacons in the sacred ministry.”

(3). as a reformed and Protestant Church, reaffirms “its constant witness against all those innovations in doctrine and worship” that have “defaced or overlaid” the “Primitive Faith” and that were disowned and rejected at the Reformation this Church did disown and reject.

2, Secondly, the Church of Ireland receives and approves:

● The 39 Articles;
● The Book of Common Prayer;
● The Ordinal;

3, Thirdly, the Church of Ireland is committed to maintaining communion with the Church of England, and with all other Christian Churches agreeing in the principles of the Declaration, and seeks “quietness, peace, and love,” among all Christians.

4, Fourthly, the General Synod, consisting of the archbishops and bishops, and of representatives of the clergy and laity, is the chief legislative and administrative power in the Church of Ireland.

[See: The Book of Common Prayer (2004), pp 776-777.]

Does that tell the casual reader of The Book of Common Prayer enough about the Church of Ireland?

[Discussion]

The Church of Ireland has two archbishops, ten bishops, two provinces and 12 dioceses

On the other hand, in a perhaps more exhaustive way, the website of the Church of Ireland describes this Church in the following way:

The Church of Ireland:

● is part of the worldwide Anglican Communion which has 70 million members in 164 countries.
● is an apostolic church, maintaining an unbroken link with the early apostles and drawing on the apostolic faith in its teaching and worship.
● is a Catholic and Reformed church.
● is able to trace its roots to the earliest days of Irish Christianity.
● is a church with three orders of sacred ministry – Bishops, Priests and Deacons.
● has services which follow an accepted liturgical form and structure.
● has one prayer book – The Book of Common Prayer (2004) – plus other services authorised for use by the General Synod.
● keeps a balance in doctrine and worship between Word and Sacrament.
● has the Holy Communion or the Eucharist as its central act of worship.
● is one church embracing Northern Ireland and the Republic of Ireland.
● has 390,000 members – 275,000 in Northern Ireland and 115,000 in the Republic of Ireland.
● has two provinces, Armagh and Dublin, each with an Archbishop.
● has 12 dioceses, over 450 parochial units and over 500 stipendiary clergy
● is a representative church, with each diocese electing those who will represent them at the General Synod, the ‘Parliament’ of the church.
● has in its General Synod a House of Bishops which has 12 members and a House of Representatives which has 216 clergy and 432 laity.
● also has Diocesan Synods where representatives of the parishes meet usually once a year.
● has a parochial system where decisions at local level are made by Select Vestries whose lay members are elected each Easter by the people of the parish.

Is that a good enough, concise and precise, summary of the Church of Ireland?

How do you introduce family members, friends, neighbours, strangers to the Church of Ireland?

How were you introduced to the Church of Ireland?

[Discussion]

There are other definitions of what it is to be an Anglican. And we shall encounter some of this in the course of this module, and as we look at the wider Anglican Communion.

Facts and figures

In the Republic of Ireland, the Church of Ireland population has increased by over 46 per cent in recent years, but may be on the decline in Northern Ireland, according to a study by the social statistician Malcolm Macourt of Manchester University.

In his book, Counting the People of God? The Census of Population and the Church of Ireland, Malcolm Macourt shows, through a comparison of the 1991 and 2006 census returns, that the Church of Ireland population in the Republic of Ireland has grown from 82,840 to 121,229 – which is almost 38,000 higher than the figure given on the Church of Ireland website, an increase of 46 per cent over a 15-year period when the general population rose by only 20 per cent.

On the other hand, in recent years, the Church of Ireland has seen a drop in members in Northern Ireland, along with many other churches, including the Methodist Church. The 2001 UK census shows the Church of Ireland in Northern Ireland has 257,788 members, or 15.3 per cent of the population – which is almost 17,000 less than the 275,000 on the website.

The largest denomination in Northern Ireland is the Roman Catholic Church with 678,462 members or 40.2 per cent of the population, followed by the Presbyterian Church with 348,742 or 20.7 per cent.

So, it appears, the Church of Ireland is growing in the Republic, while it may be in decline in Northern Ireland, although in both places to be a member of the Church of Ireland remains being a member of a minority.

The Church of Ireland experienced major decline during the 20th century, both in Northern Ireland, where around 65% of its members live, and in the Republic of Ireland which contains upwards of 35%.

However, the Church of Ireland in the Republic has shown substantial growth in the last two national censuses; its membership is now back to the level it was at 60 years ago – albeit with fewer churches and fewer clergy.

Church membership increased by 8.7 per cent in the period 2002–2006, during which the population as a whole increased by only 8.2%.

Some cautionary comments

Of course, Church membership, counted according to Church affiliation entered after each name, does not equate with Church attendance, or active participation in the life of the Church.

Do census questions of religious affiliation receive “cultural answers”?

The statistics and census categories do not try to distinguish between:

● “being” Church of Ireland;
● “behaving” in a Church of Ireland way;
● believing what the Church of Ireland teaches.

Are we talking about:

● cultural attachment?
● religious label?
● tribal identity?
● faith?
● practice?

Is it possible that some people think that belonging is hereditary? After all, in many parts of Ireland we still talk about “Church of Ireland families.”

Indeed, there is evidence that the figures for membership of the Church of Ireland may have been exaggerated until the second half of the 19th century because people thought in terms of “Church of Ireland households.”

Some the ways membership may be defined when it comes to revising the Easter Vestry lists include:

● Being baptised
● Living within the parish boundaries
● Contributing regularly to the finances of the church
● Being an “accustomed” member of the parish – going to church regularly in a particular church.

But what if you have been baptised in another tradition?

What if you have been baptised but not confirmed?

If membership is defined by practice, how often do you have to go to Church to be a member?

Once a week?

Once a month?

Once a year?

And if you stop going to church, how long should pass before you stop being considered a member?

How often should you contribute financially?

Is there a minimum subscription?

And, of course, many may not sign the forms to have their names entered on the vestry roll – because they think they may move to another parish later on; because they do not feel at home where they are; because they are reluctant to give more financially; because they fear being asked to sit on the Select Vestry or become a churchwarden; because, because, because ... who knows?

Decline in the past:

The figures show the Church of Ireland population in what is now the republic of Ireland as follows:

1921: 164,215
1991: 82,840
2006: 121,229

We do have figures yet for the 2011 census last year.

Why did membership of the Church of Ireland go into decline from 1861, and in particular, in what is now the Republic of Ireland, from 1921 until the last two census counts?

Some of the reasons offered include:

● The impact of the Ne Temere decree from 1908 onwards on “inter-Church” marriages.
● The “Great War” or World War I.
● Partition.
● the migration of civil servants, military personnel and administrators after independence.
● The Civil War.
● Different fertility rates – in 1936, for example, the fertility rate for Church of Ireland couples was 54.7 per cent, barely half that for Roman Catholic couples.

James Craig famously described Northern Ireland as having “a Protestant Parliament for a Protestant people.”

On the other hand, the General Synod sent an official delegation to Michael Collins to ask if they were “permitted to live in Ireland or if [it is] desired that they should leave the country” – this despite the role of many members of the Church of Ireland in the War of Independence, including Constance Markiewicz (Constance Gore-Booth), Erskine Childers, Sean O’Casey and Robert Barton, and that the first President of Ireland would be a son of the rectory, Douglas Hyde.

After partition, the Church of Ireland population continued to decline in the area that is now the Republic of Ireland.

Statistics show a noticeable decline particularly in both border counties and in provincial towns.

Surprisingly, emigration did not take the same toll, comparatively, as is often imagined.

In the period 1946-1961, 15 per cent of Roman Catholics emigrated, while 10 per cent of Protestants emigrated.

To what degree were numbers retained through maintaining separate social structures, such as schools, hospitals, sports clubs, dances, homes, orphanages, and so on?

Was there a presumed, unspoken definition of community?

Did we create a myth of a shared common ancestry?

Did we imagine a new, separate “ethnic group”?

Did we try to convince ourselves that we are a separate cultural community, united by common cultural traits?

The feeling of exclusion among many southern Protestants was exacerbated by a number of well-known cases:

● The Mayo Library case (1930);
● The Tilson children custody case (1950);
● The Fethard-on-Sea boycott in Co Wexford (1957).

Examples and exceptions:

Saint Nicholas’ Church, Galway … in Galway City, the Church of Ireland population grew from 260 to 1,383, a virtually five-fold increase (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

From 82,840 members in 1991 to 121,229 is an increase of over 46 per cent in membership of the Church of Ireland in the Republic of Ireland, at a time.

Let me give you some examples and some exceptional statistics:

The 2006 Census in the Republic of Ireland shows the numbers of people describing themselves as members of the Church of Ireland has increased in every county. The highest percentage growth was in the west – Co Galway, Co Mayo and Co Roscommon; and the largest numerical growth was in the mid-east region – Co Wicklow, Co Kildare, and Co Meath.

Co Wicklow is the county with the highest proportion of Church of Ireland members (6.88 per cent).

Greystones, Co Wicklow, has the highest proportion of any town (9.77 per cent). But if we look at parishes, then there are some unusual figures: Donaghmore (27.3), Donard (7.5 per cent) and Dunlavin (7.4 per cent) is one parochial union in the Diocese of Glendalough.

In the six furthest western counties, taken together – Mayo, Roscommon, Galway city and county, Clare, Limerick city and county and Kerry – the Church of Ireland figures have more than doubled, from 6,831 in 1991 to 15,839 to 2006 – an increase of 9,008 or 132 per cent, and, I imagine, welcome news in the Diocese of Tuam and the Diocese of Limerick and Killaloe.

In the midlands farming counties of Wexford, Carlow, Kilkenny, North Tipperary, Laois, Offaly, Westmeath and Longford – the Church of Ireland figures have increased by almost 40 per cent, from 14,342 in 1991 to 19,972 – an increase of 5,630 or 39 per cent, and, I imagine, welcome news in the Diocese of Cashel and Ossory, the Diocese of Limerick and Killaloe, the Diocese of Meath and Kildare, and part of the Diocese of Kilmore, Elphin and Ardagh.

On the other hand, in border counties of Cavan, Monaghan and Donegal the increase has been more marginal (3 per cent). Allowing for inward migration and natural increases, this may, in fact, reflect a decline in those counties.

There has been a major rise in the Church of Ireland in provincial towns. Between 1991 and 2006, the proportion of people describing themselves as Church of Ireland increased in 57 towns, and more than doubled in 19 of those towns. For example:

In Tuam, Co Galway, the Church of Ireland population grew from 10 to 121 – a twelve-fold growth, in Carrick-on-Suir, Co Tipperary, from 16 to 122, almost eight-fold.

In Ennis, Co Clare, the Church of Ireland population increased from 68 to 400 – a six-fold growth, in what is, numerically, the least Protestant county in Ireland.

In Galway City, the Church of Ireland population grew from 260 to 1,383, in Navan, Co Meath, from 111 to 541, and in Kildare Town from 32 to 177, virtually five-fold increase.

In Newbridge, Co Kildare, it was from 91 to 402.

Remarkably, the only town showing a decline was Bandon, Co Cork, where – in a saying that reflected past differences and tension – it was once said “even the pigs are Protestant.”

The Church of Ireland population of Dublin city and county, and the neighbouring counties of Wicklow, Meath and Kildare, increased from 40,428 in 1991 to 53,642 in 2006 (37 per cent). This is below the overall figure of 46 per cent, but it means – if we had in the remaining parts – about half the Church of Ireland population in the Republic lives in two dioceses: Dublin and Glendalough, and Meath and Kildare.

We have fewer farmers and fewer urban working class members of the Church of Ireland. Almost half fit into the social statisticians’ category of “professional, managerial, technical” – typical Irish Times readers, if you like.

In Northern Ireland, the census returns from April 2001, show a continuing decline in the Church of Ireland population, which is most marked in areas with higher unemployment and lower levels of professional employment.

The Church of Ireland is alone among the larger denominations in showing a marked reduction in numbers – almost 8 per cent lower than 1991 and over 26 per cent lower than its highest numbers in 1951.

Compare this with an increase of 12 per cent in the number of Roman Catholics and a smaller increase of 3.5 per cent in the number of Presbyterians.

For example: the Church of Ireland percentage in Lisburn fell from 26.4 per cent in 1991 to 21.1 per cent in 2001, a drop of one-fifth.

The Church of Ireland predominates among Protestants in the Lagan Valley, North Armagh, south Tyrone and Fermanagh, and parts of the far north of Co Antrim, as well as among the working-class population in Protestant areas of Belfast.

It will be interesting to see the figures for the latest census, on 27 March 2011, but the breakdown on religion has yet to be published.

Looking at the difference

The nature of religion has changed in both the Republic of Ireland and in Northern Ireland in recent decades.

However, Malcolm Macourt suggests that in the Republic ‘being’ Church of Ireland “seems to have still carried with it some connection with religious observance, as well as connection with Church-managed schools.

In Northern Ireland, “‘religion’ was the label given to competing ‘tribes’.”

What does this mean for the future of Church of Ireland identity in those two regions?

Explaining growth

How do we explain this phenomenon of growth in the Republic of Ireland?

Indeed, some rectors may be asking whether the data reflect a genuine increase.

Is it correct to presume that after a long decline ever since 1861, Irish Anglicanism is undergoing a period of growth?

Some of this growth is explained by immigration, but some is also due to members of the Roman Catholic Church transferring their membership to the Church of Ireland.

The reasons suggested for this increase include:

● The relaxation of the Ne Temere regulations that stipulated that children of Roman Catholic-Protestant marriages should be brought up as Roman Catholics.
● The decline in the fertility rate for Roman Catholics.
● The inward migration of English-born Anglicans – they may account for up to 80 per cent of immigrants who now declare themselves Anglicans in the census.
● The number of Anglican immigrants who have moved to Ireland recently from countries with a considerable Anglican population, such as Nigeria.

For example, in the Western counties that I referred to, counties that form the greater parts of the Diocese of Tum and the Diocese of Limerick and Killaloe, migrants contributed just over half the increase (4,800 out of 9,008), with three-quarters of those coming from the UK.

In the Midlands counties, two-thirds of the 39 per cent increase (3,620 out of 5,630) was attributed to immigrants, of whom two-thirds were from the United Kingdom.

What are the challenges?

Responding to the 2002 census figures, the then Archbishop of Dublin, Dr John Neill, said they did not come as a surprise. “When visiting parishes I have noticed an increase in many congregations, particularly in rural areas. I am very pleased to have it officially confirmed.”

However, he said the figures bring fresh challenges to the Church of Ireland.

He identified three important facts are reflected in the figures:

● In many parts of the Republic, and indeed overall, there are now many centres of growth in the Church of Ireland and the decline in the Church’s population has been halted.
● There are people claiming allegiance to the Church of Ireland who may not be in close touch with their local parishes. This reminds all members, clergy and lay alike, of our responsibility as a Church to minister to them.
● Fellow Anglicans from other Churches are making their home in Ireland, but while they are visible in local parishes, “we are not doing enough to make our churches more welcoming and open to cultures and worship other than our own.”

Creating and dealing with problems

The downturn in the economy over the past three or four years has seen a large number of immigrants who came to the Republic of Ireland from Eastern Europe, and who worked here as casual labourers, begin to return home. They are not going to show up in the rising unemployment figures, and once they are gone no-one is going to follow up their needs, pastorally, economically or socially. It will be a case of “out of sight, out of mind.”

Those who remain may, I fear, as the “real” unemployment figures rise further, face increasing resentment that may be expressed in racist terms. The jobs that were once despised, and left to Chinese workers who came here on “student” visas, are becoming attractive once again to our own teenage and young adult children – the late night grille at fillings stations, the cleaning and casual labouring shifts, the stacking and shelving jobs in the middle of the night in supermarkets.

These are major moral issues for the Church today. Any outside observer or commentator looking at the Church of Ireland and the Anglican Communion over the past four years or so would have thought the only moral issues we face are those that dominated the agenda at Gafcon and the Lambeth Conference in the summer of 2008.

But what about the major moral issues facing us in the Church today when it comes to welcoming the stranger in our midst and to providing pastoral care and support for our new immigrants?

The ‘stranger’ in our midst today

The changing face of Ireland? Polish magazines on sale in a shop in Capel Street, Dublin (Photograph Frank Millar/The Irish Times, 2009)

The statistics analysing the 2006 census returns in the Republic of Ireland produced unusual and curious details about the number of Greek Muslims, Chinese travellers, teenage widows and the two Maltese divorcees living in Ireland – perhaps they should be introduced to each other ... or perhaps their problems started when they were first introduced to each other.

They help us to underline the way in which we have all come to realise and accept: that Ireland has become a diverse and multicultural society. We never were a plain, boring, mono-cultural society. We have always been an island that has been diverse and plural because of the people who come to our shores: from the Celts, Parthalons and Vikings, to the Anglo-Normans, both English and French, the Gallowglass and the settler Scots; from the French in the Middle Ages, to the Huguenot refugees and the weaver of Dublin’s Liberties.

Who do you think are the single largest identifiable groups of people in the Republic of Ireland on any one day? And I mean among those who were not born in the Republic?

Despite the way we compile statistics, the two largest groups on any one day are:

● firstly, people born in the United Kingdom;
● secondly, tourists.

We do not notice the first group, because many of them were born in Northern Ireland or were born in England of Irish parents, and they speak and look like the vast majority of people here.

The second group we welcome with open arms. They provide us with income, revenue, and in economic terms the equivalent of exports – they bring in money from other countries, and, so, they are vital to a key sector of the economy.

I have never heard anyone complain in racist terms that the country is being swamped with Italian tourists. But I regularly hear gross exaggerations about the numbers of Nigerians and Somalis here.

Who are our immigrants?

Bunclody, Co Wexford … the town in the Republic of Ireland with the largest Polish population (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

So who are the strangers in our midst?

The face of Ireland appeared to be changing in the first years of this century. The pace of that change may have slowed more recently, or even retreated in some cases. But, nevertheless, that face is changing, and much of the change is irreversible and – we have to accept – is for the good.

Today, the second most common first language in the Republic is no longer Irish – it is Polish. Poles make up the largest single ethnic minority in the state, and the last census figures showed at least 63,000 Polish nationals living here.

In recent years, the Poles, Lithuanians and Latvians have pushed the Chinese into fourth place, but Chinese remains one of the largest language minority groups, especially in the greater Dublin, where there may have been a Chinese population of up to 60,000 people in recent years.

Research at the National University of Ireland Maynooth found that more than 167 different languages – from Acholi to Zulu – in use by 160 nationalities among the people in Ireland as their everyday first language of choice.

Ireland has become a multilingual society, so that the 2006 census was conducted in 13 languages. Apart from English and Irish, these languages are: Arabic, Chinese, Czech, French, Latvian, Lithuanian, Polish, Portuguese, Romanian, Russian and Spanish. In addition, information was also available in Estonian, Magyar (Hungarian), Slovak, Turkish and Yoruba.

The share of foreign-born people living in the Republic of Ireland is about 11%, although the census figures include 1.3% born in Northern Ireland. The Central Statistics Office estimates that 9% of immigrants are now Chinese, and 8% are nationals from Central and Eastern Europe.

Asylum seekers and refugees are a very small proportion of the number of foreign-born people in Ireland at any one top. In Ireland, the top five countries of origin for new asylum seekers over the past decade have been Nigeria, Somalia, Romania, Afghanistan and Sudan. And over the past decade, their numbers have been decreasing steadily.

Figures from the Central Statistics Office show that the number of foreign-born nationals in the Republic of Ireland is about 457,000, out of a total population of 4.1 million, or about 11 per cent.

When immigration was probably at its highest, in the middle of the last decade, more than one-third of 70,000 immigrants in the 12-month period up to April 2005 came from the new accession states in the European Union: 17% (11,900) came from Poland and 9% (6,300) from Lithuania. But those numbers were totally outweighed by the 19,000 returning Irish citizens (27%), and close to the number of UK nationals moving here (6,900 or 10%).

Of the 50,100 people who came to Ireland as immigrants in 2004, one-third (16,900) had Irish nationality – they were returning Irish emigrants, their children, or people from Northern Ireland.

The Polish community is the single largest ethnic minority in the state. At their height, there were about 100,000 Poles here with PPS numbers, although some trade union estimates put the number of Poles here at 200,000 to 400,000. In a controversial article, Newsweek described Newbridge as the capital of Polish emigration, saying there were 30,000 people living in the Co Kildare town, although the 2006 census shows Bunclody, Co Wexford, is the town with the largest Polish population.

The second largest group comes from Latvia, and at one stage numbered 25,000 to 30,000. At one time, the Irish mushroom industry, a multi-million Euro industry, and they have been of economic benefit to us. But there are a number of problems:

● They are often exploited and paid below the minimum wage.
● They leave behind children who are cared for by grandparents – creating what the Latvian media has called a new generation of “mushroom orphans.”
● They are over-qualified for their jobs, so they are part of a brain-drain on Latvia, which has paid for their training and education and needs their skills.
● They are easy victims of racism. After one industrial protest, an American newspaper ran the headline: “For Irish, Latvians fill the role of bogeymen.”

The Chinese are probably the third largest of these ethnic groupings. There may be 60,000 Chinese living in the state, perhaps half in the greater Dublin area, and many are here on student visas and without work permits.

Their Churches

Patrick Comerford with the authors of a report on Chinese students and immigrants, Dr Lan Li of University College Dublin and Dr Richard O’Leary of Queen’s University, Belfast, in the Chapel of Trinity College Dublin in 2008

Many of the Poles are Roman Catholics, but worship in their own parishes and congregations. Many of the immigrants from the Baltic countries are Lutherans, and under the Porvoo Agreement they are full communicant members of the Church of Ireland while they are here. But we have very little pastoral or liturgical engagement with them, and many of them probably have no idea of who we are.

The Chinese have their own Catholic parish in Dublin, with Masses in Chinese, while the Chinese Protestant Church is a very conservative evangelical church.

However, despite the increasing popularity of celebrations such as the Chinese New Year, which is being celebrated in Temple Bar Square, Dublin, tomorrow evening [Friday 20 January 2012], we know very little about the religious beliefs and practices of the majority of Chinese people here.

Despite their visibility, the number of Nigerians in Ireland is probably lower than many of the public estimates. Of the 30,000 Africans thought to be in Ireland, about 20,000 are probably Nigerians. They suffer racism not only from Irish-born people but from other Africans too. Yet they make a positive contribution to public life in Ireland: Rotimi Adebarai became Ireland’s first black mayor in June 2007 in Portlaoise. Other African communities in Ireland include people from DR Congo, Sierra Leone, Somalia and Sudan.

The Romanian population is largely Dublin-based. There may be 20,000 Romanians in Ireland, although the numbers are dropping significantly at the moment, according to the priests of the Romanian Orthodox Church.

They often complain that they are all categorised as Gypsies or Roma. Yet there may only be about 2,000 Roma in Ireland, and many of those come from other Easter and Central European countries, including the Czech and Slovak republics, the former Yugoslav republics, Bulgaria and Hungary.

Admittedly, the census statistics are always on the low side when it comes to telling us who is living among us. Too many people are too afraid and too scared to register themselves at census times, worried that once noted they may face discrimination or forced deportation.

Immigrants and the Church of Ireland

The Discovery services in inner city Dublin ... providing ‘Anglican liturgies with African flavours’

What has this got to do with the Church of Ireland today, with who we are and what our mission is?

Apart from the duty on church members to comfort those who are in fear and to welcome the stranger, it is important that we do not see those who have arrived among us in recent years as problems, either in themselves or in the reaction of some sectors of society and government. They enrich our society, and they enrich our Church life too.

The fact is that immigrants have disproportionately enriched the life of the Church of Ireland. Today, 2 per cent of the Church of Ireland population in the Republic of Ireland is from an African country, compared with 0.8 per cent of the population as a whole.

The members of the Church of Ireland throughout this state include:

● 1,404 born in Nigeria;
● 1,156 who are Germans;
● 578 from Lithuania;
● 537 South Africans;
● 336 from Poland;
● 251 from the Netherlands;
● 161 from Denmark;
● 134 from Latvia; and
● (as Garrett Casey showed in a recent analysis of those statistics), 77 members of the Church of Ireland who are French nationals.

If Ireland is not monochrome or mono-cultural, then neither is the Church of Ireland.

Mission questions:

How is the Church getting it right?

How is the Church getting it wrong?

What are the challenges?

And what are the opportunities we can grasp in the Church of Ireland?

Example 1:

A positive example of the Church of Ireland has adapted and changed is provided by the Discovery programme based at Saint George’s and Saint Thomas’s Church in inner city Dublin, including the Discovery services, choir and chaplaincy.

This has been positive for the church, for the parish, and for the international community. But it also led to other initiatives, such as the U2charist.

But success was only possible because the then priest-in-charge, Canon Katharine Poulton, now Dean of Saint Canice’s Cathedral, Kilkenny, was open to taking risks. And because her congregation was supportive as she took those risks.

The implications for ministry are obvious. We must be willing to be adventurous and innovative, who are risk-takers. We are ordained to be “messengers, watchers and stewards.” But instead, parishes often want their clergy to be building surveyors, caretakers and boiler-fixers.

Example 2:

A negative example comes from hospital chaplaincy. I heard someone say recently not that he, but that other members of the Church of Ireland, would not like the idea of a black African chaplain visiting the wards. Why not? He protested that he is not racist. But the implications are frightening.

Many of our hospital and prison chaplains find themselves cast into the role of advocacy. They are the ones people – staff and patients or prisoners – turn to for advice about other minorities. Are our chaplains, lay and ordained, trained properly, and knowledgeable enough for this role in ministry?

Example 3:

There is a large new school in the Greater Dublin area under Church of Ireland management. Before September 2009, there were 58 or 60 children in the old schoolhouse, which was dilapidated and in need of repair or replacement. About half of those children were non-nationals.

The national school has moved to a new building. Other schools in area were giving priority to Roman Catholic children, and so their school rolls were full. After the new school opened under Church of Ireland management in September 2010, the number of children reached 240-250. Of these, 80% were Nigerian by birth or parentage, 10% were from Eastern Europe or other nationalities, and 10% were Irish-born. In the senior infants’ class, there were 31 children, of whom three were “white,” and of those, only one is Irish-born.

Were the parishioners withdrawing their children?

Is this an appropriate move by that Church of Ireland parish?

What do you think are the positive and negative aspects of this scenario?

And of course, what are the implications for teacher training or for raising awareness among parishioners?

Example 4:

How best can we use our Church buildings? The former Church of Ireland parish churches in Harold’s Cross and Leeson Park are now being used by the Russian Orthodox and Romanian Orthodox Churches, while Saint George’s and Saint Thomas’s, and the parish churches in Donnybrook, Swords and Tallaght are providing hospitality for various Syrian and Indian Orthodox communities.

How can we best use our church buildings to reflect the needs of the changing and changed Ireland?

A closing conundrum:

Some images and perceptions still have to be dealt with.

How do we relate all this to:

● The decline of the Anglo-Irish gentry?
● The loss of the substantial Church of Ireland working class population in Dublin (and perhaps soon in Belfast too)?
● The changing ethos of formerly Church of Ireland hospitals?

Is there still a sense of “Protestant identity” – north and south?

According an opinion piece by Mark Kenny in the Irish Independent a few years ago, 10 per cent ordinands in the Church of Ireland were former Roman Catholics.

Is that true today?

(This year, excluding those already ordained deacon but including part-time students, the figure is 10.5 per cent; if you include deacon-interns and other categories, the figure is 10.7 per cent.)

Does it matter?

What are the social consequences – for Roman Catholics and for the Church of Ireland?

How does this compare with England, where some Anglicans – including some bishops – have become Roman Catholics?

If religion is inextricably linked with culture, then how does the Church of Ireland engage with the context of the culture in which it flourishes in the Republic of Ireland?

And how might these figures eventually impact on how the Church of Ireland in the Republic relates to its closest neighbour?

Additional reading:

Heather Crawford, Outside the Glow: Protestants and Irishness in Independent Ireland (Dublin: UCD Press, 2010).
Patrick Comerford, Embracing Difference (Dublin: Church of Ireland Publishing, 2007).
Guidelines for Interfaith Events & Dialogue (prepared by the Committee for Christian Unity and the House of Bishops of the Church of Ireland, Dublin: Church of Ireland Publishing, 2007).
Malcolm Macourt, Counting the People of God? The Census of Population and the Church of Ireland (Dublin: Church of Ireland Publishing, 2008).
A. McGrady (ed), Welcoming the Stranger: Practising hospitality in contemporary Ireland (Dublin: Veritas, 2006).
Richard O’Leary and Lan Li, Mainland Chinese Students and Immigrants in Ireland and their engagement with Christianity, Churches and Irish Society (Dublin: Agraphon Press, 2008).
Gordon Wynne, Pastoral Care in the Recession (Dublin: Church of Ireland Publishing: 2009).

Next:

1.2: who we are (2): Introduction to the Anglican Communion today.

Next week:

2.1: The mission of Patrick and early Irish Christianity.

Seminar:

2.2: Challenges facing the communion of global Anglicanism today, including the Anglican Covenant.

Readings for that seminar:

The Anglican Covenant (supplied).

Canon Patrick Comerford is Lecturer in Anglicanism and Liturgy, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute. This lecture, on 19 January 2012, was part of MTh Year II module, EM8825, Anglican Studies in an Irish context.

Anglican Studies in an Irish context

2012-01-19T09:00:00.001Z

Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin (Photograph; Patrick Comerford, 2010)

Patrick Comerford

MTh Year II: Semester 2, Spring 2012,

Thursday mornings, 10 a.m. to 12, Noon, The Hartin Room

EM8825: Anglican Studies in an Irish context:

Outline of module content, methodologies and essays:

Week 1 (19.01.2012):

1, Who we are (1): introduction to Anglicanism in Ireland today;
2, Who we are (2): introduction to the Anglican Communion today.

Week 2 (26.01.2012)

1, The mission of Patrick and early Irish Christianity;
2, Challenges facing the communion of global Anglicanism today, including the Anglican Covenant.

Week 3 (02.02.2012):

1, State-sponsored reform of the English and Irish churches in the 16th century.
2, Contextual understandings (1): the emergence, role and authority of The Book of Common Prayer, the Homilies, Articles of Religion.

Week 4 (09.02.2012):

1, The Elizabethan and Caroline Settlements;
2, Contextual understandings (2): art, music and culture in the development of Anglicanism.

Week 5 (16.02.2012):

1, The Church of Ireland from the Penal Laws to Disestablishment;
2, Understanding sectarianism and transforming societies.

Week 6 (23.02.2012):

1, Christianity and nationalisms;
2, The Good Friday/Belfast Agreement and its consequences: a reflection on the Hard Gospel Project.

Week 7 (01.03.2012):

Reading Week.

Week 8 (08.03.2012):

1, Partition, conflict and peace: the Church of Ireland in the 20th and 21st centuries.
2, Theologies of reconciliation and the challenges of divided societies (M Volf, R Schreiter, J de Gruchy).

Week 9 (15.03.2012): Saint Patrick’s Day; Public holiday.

1, The Chicago-Lambeth Quadrilateral and the emergence of an Anglican Covenant;
2, Anglican responses to the Missio Dei: Scripture, Worship and Communion as defining themes in contemporary Anglican self-understanding.

Week 10 (22.03.2012):

1, Anglicanism, ecumenical engagement and inter-religious dialogue;
2, Postcolonial Biblical exegesis and liberation theology in contemporary global Anglicanism.

Week 11 (29.03.2012):

1, The Anglican Covenant: the debate today (1);
2, The Anglican Covenant: the debate today (2).

Week 12 (05.04.2012):

Is there a way of talking about an ‘Anglican Culture’? (1);
Is there a way of talking about an ‘Anglican Culture’? (2).

Module Content:

1, Christianity and Conflict in Ireland

● Acknowledging the conflicting interpretations of key moments in Irish church history:
● the mission of Patrick and early Irish Christianity;
● state-sponsored reform of the English and Irish churches in the 16th century;
● the Elizabethan and Caroline Settlements;
● Christianity and nationalisms;
● partition, conflict and peace;
● the Good Friday/Belfast Agreement and its consequences.

2, The ‘Anglican Way’ in Ireland

● Anglican responses to the Missio Dei: Scripture, Worship and Communion as defining themes in contemporary Anglican self-understanding;
● contextual understanding of the emergence, role and authority of the Book of Common Prayer, the Homilies, Articles of Religion;
● the Chicago-Lambeth Quadrilateral and the emergence of an Anglican Covenant;
● Anglicanism, ecumenical engagement and inter-religious dialogue.

3, Reconciliation in an Irish Context

● Theologies of reconciliation and the challenges of divided societies (M Volf, R Schreiter, J de Gruchy);
● postcolonial Biblical exegesis and liberation theology in contemporary global Anglicanism;
● understanding sectarianism and transforming societies;
● a reflection on the Hard Gospel Project.

4, Christianity and Reconciliation

● Analysis of Anglicanism’s capacities to contribute to public debates on reconciliation, and social and ecological justice;
● exploration of new ways for Anglicans to be church (e.g., L Mudge, R Page, M Grey);
● challenges facing the communion of global Anglicanism.

Learning Outcomes:

By the end of this module students will be able to:

● understand critically the historical contexts that have shaped the current expressions of Irish Christianity.
● engage with the ways in which Anglican identity is articulated, especially through the liturgical life of the Church.
● recognise the distinctive challenges facing Irish Anglicans in articulating the ‘gospel of reconciliation’.
● engage critically with concerns of Anglicans in the Global South over the nature of Anglican koinonia.
● reflect on new proposals of how to be church.

Teaching and Learning Methods:

This module will be taught through a series of lectures and student-led seminars.
Students will be required to take part in and lead class seminars and also to take part in collaborative small groups and independent study.

There will be a joint seminar with each of the other two strands – Biblical Studies and Theology.

Semester: 2; Hours: 2 per week; 5 Credits

Assessment: 2,500 words of coursework (e.g. essay or project as agreed by course leader)

Date for submission: 10 April 2012.

Required or Recommended Readings:

The reports and resolutions of the Lambeth Conferences.
The Anglican Covenant.
ARCIC agreed statements.
The Church of Ireland/Methodist Covenant.
The Hard Gospel Report.
The Porvoo Common Statement.

Paul Avis, The Identity of Anglicanism (London: T&T Clark, 2007).
Toby Barnard, W.G. Neely (eds), The Clergy and the Church of Ireland, 1000-2000 (Dublin: Four Courts Press, 2006).
M.D. Chapman (ed), The Anglican Covenant (London: Mowbray, 2008).
N. Doe, An Anglican Covenant (Norwich: Canterbury Press, 2008).
G.R. Evans, J.R. Wright (eds), The Anglican Tradition (London: SPCK, 1991).
Raymond Gillespie, W.G. Neely (eds), The Laity and the Church of Ireland, 1000-2000 (Dublin: Four Courts Press, 2002).
P. Groves (ed), The Anglican Communion and Homosexuality (London: SPCK, 2008).
William Marshall, Scripture, Tradition and Reason, a selective view of Anglican theology through the centuries (Dublin: Columba Press/APCK, 2010).
K. Stevenson, B. Spinks (eds), The Identity of Anglican Worship (Harrisburg: Morehouse, 1991).
M. Volf, Free of Charge (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2005).
Keith Ward, A History of Global Anglicanism (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006).

Essay titles:

Drawing on the Thirty-nine Articles and The Book of Common Prayer (2004), discuss the relative influence of liturgy and doctrinal statements in the formation of an Anglican theological outlook.

or

Discuss Cranmer’s attitude to state control of the Church with that of the 19th century Tractarians, and relate these attitudes to the different political circumstances of their times.

In the light of the statement in the Preamble and Declaration that the Church of Ireland is the “Ancient Catholic and Apostolic Church of Ireland,” discuss whether ‘Celtic Spirituality’ is relevant to the life of the Church of Ireland today.

or

Compare and contrast the Eucharistic theologies and the Ecclesiologies of Richard Hooker and Jeremy Taylor.

Discuss the Anglican Covenant, and in the light of this year’s meeting of the Anglican Primates in Dublin, discuss whether the Covenant contributes towards maintaining unity and diversity in the Anglican Communion.

or

Outline and evaluate the current debates and divisions within the Anglican Communion, explaining in particular the relevance of Resolution 1.10 of the 1998 Lambeth Conferences.

Evaluate the contributions of missionaries, particularly from the Church of Ireland, to the expansion of Anglicanism and the development of the Anglican Communion, and assess whether their legacy has had an impact on current debates within Anglicanism.

or

Discuss whether the legacy of the Penal Laws and Establishment is a hindrance or a help to the present sense of identity and mission in the Church of Ireland.

Discuss whether the three Agreed Statements in the ARCIC Final Report (1982) have been successful in resolving the historic theological differences between Anglicans and Roman Catholics?

or

Compare the extent of the agreement reached between the Porvoo Churches with that between the Church of Ireland and the Methodist Church in Ireland in the 2001 Covenant, and outline and discuss the relevance in each case of the historic episcopate as set out in the Chicago-Lambeth Quadrilateral.

Discuss whether there is a distinctive or identifiable ‘Church of Ireland identity’ and draw on modern political and social developments to illustrate and support your evaluation.

or

‘The problem in Ireland today is we have had too much religion and not enough Christianity.’ Discuss this proposition, and give and defend your views about whether the ‘Hard Gospel’ report answers this type of statement.

Canon Patrick Comerford is Lecturer in Anglicanism and Liturgy, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute

To see heaven open and the angels of God ascending and descending

2012-01-18T17:30:00.003Z

The call of Philip and Nathanael … how do we keep fresh and alive our enthusiasm for the call from Christ?

Patrick Comerford

The Church of Ireland Theological Institute,

Wednesday 18 January 2012,

5 p.m., The Community Eucharist:

The Collect and readings for the Second Sunday after the Epiphany:

I Samuel 3: 1-10;
Psalm 139: 1-5, 12-18;
Revelation 5: 1-10;
John 1: 43-51.

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

In any theological college, it might have been easier this evening to opt to preach on the Old Testament reading and the story of the call of Samuel. But I figure if you have not hear this time-and-again at the ordination of each other as deacon last year, you are going to hear sermons on this passage time-and-again at the ordination of each other as priest this year.

So, unaccustomed as I am to preaching, I might have gone for another easy option: after all, last weekend we were led in a series of meditations and reflection by [Dr] Katie[ Heffelfinger]’s tutorial group on the Psalm, which opens with those words: “O Lord, you have searched me out and known me” (Psalm 139: 1).

But then, if you do not know already that God has searched you out and knows you in intimate detail, you are now wondering what you have been doing here for these past few years.

Or, perhaps, I could choose the New Testament reading. There we are reminded that Christ, the Lamb on the Throne, has made us “to be a kingdom and priests serving our God” (Revelation 5: 10), preparing the world for the Kingdom of God, inviting the world into the Kingdom of God. That would allow an opportunity to develop some of the themes I introduced in Monday morning’s reflection on Patristic Spirituality.

But, as you all know, I love Saint John’s Gospel, and I could hardly miss out on our Gospel reading (John 1: 43-51).

These are all appropriate readings for the beginning of a new semester, and particularly good reminders to us as staff of why we are here, even in the midst of a very busy week.

We had the part-time MTh students back last weekend, and we too have to prepare for lectures, tutorials and dissertation supervision. But please, don’t get me wrong – each and every one of us loves this work, and we share your anxieties and your joys as tell us about the “curacy round.”

But we are also aware that some of you as Year III students are being asked to be seen by rectors of parishes that you never even considered going to. Others of you are finding you are being interviewed by a rector only to realise that a parish you once thought very attractive and appealing is now one that you have second thoughts about.

And when the curacies are finally agreed, some rectors and some students may be disappointed, and some may be surprised.

Whether you have spent the best part of one, two or three years here so far training for ordained ministry, you know that the call to ministry came many, many years before you arrived here and knocked on that blue front door.

Now within the next few weeks, the Year III students must start to think about leaving a place that for some has been like a second home for almost three years. You may also have to leave old family homes you have lived in. You are about to start a new job, to move to a new house, to a new town, to an unknown and unfamiliar part of the island.

Any one of these changes is stressful in itself.

Some of you must have been stressed-out for the past few weeks. Some of you may have surprised the interviewing rectors who met you. And some of you will be surprised by the offers you are going to receive in the coming weeks, where you are called to serve Christ in his Church.

God’s call comes to a variety of people, in surprising ways ... and to surprising places.

Our Gospel reading is the story of the call of Philip and Nathanael, and it comes immediately after the story of the call of Andrew and Peter.

Andrew and Peter are brothers but their names indicate the early differences and divisions in the Church, held together in unity by Christ. Andrew’s name is Greek ('Ανδρέας, Andreas), meaning “manly” or “valorous,” while Peter’s original name, Simon (שמעון‎, Shimon), meaning “hearing,” is so obviously Jewish.

And the same contrast is emphasised again with the names of Philip and Nathanael: Philip is a strong Greek name – everyone in the region knew Philip of Macedon was the father of Alexander the Great; while Nathanael’s name is a Hebrew compound meaning “the Gift of God.”

So, from the very beginning of the story of the call of the disciples, the diversity and divisions with the Church are represented, even in the names that show they are Jews and Greeks, the Hebrew-speakers and those who are culturally Hellenised.

In reacting to those false divisions in the early Church, the Apostle Paul tells us: “There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus” (Galatians 3: 28; see Colossians 3: 11).

The ordained ministry of the Church should reflect the diversity of skills and talents and personalities that God has given to the Church as gifts and as blessings.

The call to ordained ministry that has come to you as a very diverse group of students in many ways reflects how the call that came to the first disciples as a diverse group of people, from a wide variety of backgrounds, often – as with Philip and Nathanael – when they were least expecting that call. But they responded to that call faithfully. Andrew went and fetched Simon Peter. Philip found Nathanael.

Nathanael must have thought there were great things ahead of him. Imagine if you were told by Christ himself: “Very truly, I tell you, you will see heaven opened and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of Man.”

Did that ever happen to Nathanael?

Quite honestly, we do not know.

After this story in Saint John’s Gospel, he disappears completely from the Bible.

But whether others saw Nathanael as cynical or sceptical, as he presents himself in this story, Christ sees his potential and promise, and sees him as someone without guile. In Christ, Nathanael finds all things are made new, Christ transform the poverty of his nature by the riches of his grace, and in the renewal of Nathanael’s life, God’s heavenly glory is made known.

This is a promise to you and me too, to each and every one of us in our ministry. The call to follow Christ holds out great promise.

But in responding to that call, and in being faithful to that call, we may find ourselves called to the most unexpected tasks and places, but called to the most mundane and ordinary places and tasks – all for the sake of the Kingdom of God.

We may see the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of Man – but without anyone knowing it.

We are not called to fame and glory.

And if our Gospel reading is a challenge to you as students, then it offers us, as staff members, a few challenges too, for it is not fame and glory that we are called to either:

How do we continue to encourage you to move beyond the tolerance of diversity to the respect for diversity and then on to the point of speaking up for diversity as a gift in the Church, so that truly, as the Apostle Paul tells us: “There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus.”

How do we continue to encourage you not to be afraid of questions from others who may turn out to be like Nathanael, asking direct questions, even without guile and in all innocence, but nevertheless blunt and direct, apparently cynical, questions about Christ and faith?

How do we continue to inspire you with enough infectious enthusiasm to want to go back like Andrew to call Peter, to go back like Philip to fetch Nathanael?

How do we continue to help you as students to keep that call to follow Christ so fresh in your minds that it still inspires infectious enthusiasm in you after your three years here?

And I say this – without guile or cynicism – that this alone should be enough fame and glory, for in that alone we shall see “heaven opened and the angels of God ascending and descending.”

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 Collect:

Almighty God,
in Christ you make all things new:
Transform the poverty of our nature
by the riches of your grace,
and in the renewal of our lives
make known your heavenly glory;
through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

The Post-Communion Prayer:

God of glory,
you nourish us with bread from heaven.
Fill us with your Holy Spirit
that through us the light of your glory
may shine in all the world.
We ask this in the name of Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Canon Patrick Comerford is Lecturer in Anglicanism and Liturgy, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute, and a canon of Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin. This sermon was preached at the Community Eucharist on Wednesday 18 January 2012.

Christ calls us into relationship

2012-01-18T13:15:00.000Z

Mediterranean boats in Réthymnon’s charming Venetian harbour in Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford 2010)

Patrick Comerford

Saint Bartholomew’s Church, Ballsbridge, Dublin,

Wednesday 18 January 2012,

12.45 .a.m., Said Eucharist

Collect and Readings for the Third Sunday after the Epiphany

Jonah 3: 1-5, 10; Psalm 62: 5-12; I Corinthians 7: 29-31; Mark 1: 14-20.

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

I know it is not customary to have a sermon at this mid-week Eucharist here in Saint Bartholomew’s. But I just thought I might share a few of the thoughts going through my mind as I work through my sermon for Sunday next.

I imagine our readings next Sunday may offer little comfort in the people in west Cork who are searching for or mourning the loss of the lives of those fishermen – at sea and yet so close to land.

The mere mention of Jonah, who everybody associates with a shipwreck and a big fish, or the story of fishermen being called away for an even-more demanding task, are hardly going to sound like good news to the ears of those who have lost loved ones so tragically in this past week.

Yet, Saint Mark begins his Gospel with the promise that this is “the good news of Jesus the Christ, the Son of God.” And again in our Gospel reading, in verse 15, we hear repeated the promise of that Good News: “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news” (verse 15).

I wonder whether those fishermen by the Sea of Galilee in our Gospel reading found the call of Christ good news, to abandon their jobs, their incomes, perhaps even their families, friends and work colleagues? Yet Peter, Andrew, James and John immediately leave their previous occupations, and follow Christ.

One of the first things Christ does is to recruit followers. We could say that proclaiming the Good News, and proclaiming that the Kingdom of God is near, is not a one-man show. Instead, it involves building up communities, and creating relationships that embody the Good News.

Becoming “fishers of men,” “fishing for people,” is going to bring these Galilean fishers into new relationships, with new demands, new risks and new expectations.

Discipleship is not passive following of Christ. As the Church, we cannot hang any sign outside on our office doors saying: “Gone Fishin’.”

And that call, and the expectations Christ has for us, the relationships he challenges us to build, are some of the things that are shaping what I hope to say here at the Eucharist on Sunday morning.

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

Collect:

Almighty God,
whose Son revealed in signs and miracles
the wonder of your saving presence:
Renew your people with your heavenly grace,
and in all our weakness
sustain us by your mighty power;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Post Communion Prayer:

Almighty Father,
your Son our Saviour Jesus Christ is the light of the world.
May your people,
illumined by your word and sacraments,
shine with the radiance of his glory,
that he may be known, worshipped,
and obeyed to the ends of the earth;
for he is alive and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.

Canon Patrick Comerford is Lecturer in Anglicanism and Liturgy, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute, and a canon of Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin. This reflection was shared at the Eucharist in Saint Bartholomew’s Church, Ballsbridge, Dublin, on 18 January 2012.

Preaching with love and with authority

2012-01-18T09:30:00.002Z

‘I will raise up for them a prophet like you from among their own people’ (Deuteronomy 18: 18) … Patrick Pye’s Triptych in Saint Macartan’s Cathedral, Monaghan (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2011)

Patrick Comerford

The readings in the Revised Common Lectionary for Sunday week [Sunday 29 January 2012], the Fourth Sunday after the Epiphany, are: Deuteronomy 18: 15-20; Psalm 111; I Corinthians 8: 1-13; and Mark 1: 21-28.

For this semester, we have decided in our tutorial group, to look at the Old Testament readings provided in the lectionary.

Deuteronomy 18: 15-20

[Moses spoke to the people; he said:]

The Lord your God will raise up for you a prophet like me from among your own people; you shall heed such a prophet. This is what you requested of the Lord your God at Horeb on the day of the assembly when you said: ‘If I hear the voice of the Lord my God any more, or ever again see this great fire, I will die.’ Then the Lord replied to me: ‘They are right in what they have said. I will raise up for them a prophet like you from among their own people; I will put my words in the mouth of the prophet, who shall speak to them everything that I command. Anyone who does not heed the words that the prophet shall speak in my name, I myself will hold accountable. But any prophet who speaks in the name of other gods, or who presumes to speak in my name a word that I have not commanded the prophet to speak – that prophet shall die.’

Making connections:

The other lectionary readings for the day are:

Psalm 111: The Psalm tells us how great the works of the Lord are, and ends with that wonderful verse (10):

The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom;
Those who act accordingly have a good understanding;
His praise endures for ever.

I Corinthians 8: 1-13: In the New Testament reading, the Apostle Paul reminds us of the difference between knowledge and love. There is a difference between knowing who God is, and loving God, just as there is a difference between knowing who someone is, and loving that person. Discipleship, and ministry, are less about knowing, and all about loving.

Mark 1: 21-28: The Gospel readings is the story of Christ’s visit to Capernaum, where he teaches in the synagogue and preaches. All are astounded at is teaching, but when he actually puts it into practice, they are all amazed: He not only teaches, but he puts it into practice, he teaches not just with knowledge, but with authority; not only can he say, but he can do.

Reflecting on those readings may help those us who want to preach on the Old Testament reading that Sunday morning.

Looking at the text:

‘Hang all the law and the prophets’ … the statue of Bishop Charles Gore at the west entrance of Birmingham Cathedral (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2011)

In the verses immediately preceding this (Deuteronomy 18: 9-14), the people are warned against false religion in the form of worshipping false idols, false gods, divination, magic, sooth-saying, sorcery and child sacrifice.

At the time, this must have been seen as weird, every other religion and culture in the region engaged in these practices, and hardly saw them as superstitious.

Then, having dismissed all that, Moses talks about how to tell if a prophet is a true prophet of the Lord. A true prophet is like Moses, conveying ideas and principals consistent with God’s commandments. False prophets are those who intentionally, through deceit, or unintentionally, because of self-delusion, preach false teachings or offer inaccurate predictions.

The people have the laws and instructions from God that are the measure of truth for them. They stand for something so they are not to fall for just anything – in theory, anyway.

If we see the reading as one about law in terms of the Old Testament code repeated in Deuteronomy, we may get bogged down. But we know what the summary of the Law is: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength … You shall love your neighbour as yourself” (Mark 12: 30-31; see Matthew 22: 34-40; Luke 25-28).

The story is told that when Charles Gore – founder of the Community of the Resurrection, the first Bishop of Birmingham, and the Editor of Lux Mundi – loved to play a particular prank on friends and acquaintances.

As a canon of Westminster Abbey, he enjoyed showing visitors the tomb of one of his ancestor, the Earl of Kerry, with an inscription that ends with the words (in double quotation marks): “Hang all the law and the prophets.”

On closer inspection, he would point out, the words are preceded by “... ever studious to fulfil those two great commandments on which he had been taught by his divine Master ...” (see Matthew 22: 40).

So, may we may want to hang some of the prophets if they preach the Word of God as if these were not the two commandments on which depend all the law and the prophets.

If we approach this reading in the context of the difference between knowledge and love, then we may find a more useful, reflective and pastoral way of approaching this passage.

Here we find a good antidote to those who preach, and who know their Bible, but who impose their own rules and regulations on people, without taking any account of the scope of God’s love, which is seen in the life, passion, death, resurrection, ascension, and coming again of Christ.

Sometimes, listening to them, or hearing about them, can be a deadening experience. If they put their preaching into practice, it might be a very love-less world indeed, and may indeed want to hang all the law and the prophets.

Recently, as I was preparing to preach in three churches on a Sunday morning, I was asked how many sermons did I normally preach.

I replied: “Three.”

And she asked: “Every Sunday?”

No, I said. I only have three sermons to preach, and humorously summarised them as:

1, Love God.

2, Love one another.

3, Love God, and Love one another.

And if that is at the heart of your preaching, you will find you are preaching with knowledge and with love, perhaps even with authority.

Collect:

Creator God,
who in the beginning
commanded the light to shine out of darkness:
We pray that the light of the glorious gospel of Christ
may dispel the darkness of ignorance and unbelief,
shine into the hearts of all your people,
and reveal the knowledge of your glory
in the face of Jesus Christ our Lord.

Post Communion Prayer:

Generous Lord,
in word and Eucharist we have proclaimed
the mystery of your love.
Help us so to live out our days
that we may be signs of your wonders in the world;
through Jesus Christ our Saviour.

Canon Patrick Comerford is Lecturer in Anglicanism and Liturgy, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute, and a canon of Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin. These notes were prepared for a Bible study with a tutorial group of MTh students on Wednesday 18 January 2012

Introducing Patristic Spirituality

2012-01-16T09:30:00.005Z

The Church Fathers … in a Greek Orthodox icon

Patrick Comerford

Church of Ireland Theological Institute,

16 January 2012:

Spirituality: Introducing Patristic Spirituality

Opening hymn: 262: ‘Come ye faithful, raise the strain’, by John of Damascus (ca 675-ca 750).

Opening Reading:

Revelation 5: 11-14

Introduction

There was a time when a course in Patristics would have been one of the core First Year modules for ordinands in an Anglican theological college. Scholars like Bishop JB Lightfoot (1828-1899) and Bishop Brooke Westcott (1825-1901) placed Patristics at the heart of Anglican theology from the late 19th century on, for many generations.

Today, there is may be less enthusiasm for Patristics, and Professor Alister McGrath, looking at the obstacles to our understanding of Patristics in the 21st century, identifies four reasons why understanding Patristics can be difficult today:

● Some of the debates appear to have little relevance to the modern world;
● The use of classical philosophy;
● The doctrinal diversity;
● The divisions between East and West, or between Greek and Latin methods of theology, and the extent to which they use classical philosophy.

He might have added that some of them think in ways that are totally alien to us today, such as Saint Simeon the Stylite (ca 390-459), who achieved fame as an ascetic because he lived on a small platform on the top of a pillar near Aleppo in Syria for 39 years.

But do not be frightened by this topic. Already, some of you are familiar with the Didache and the Shepherd of Hermas, anonymous works dating from the same period as the Apostolic Fathers, and perhaps with the Apostolic Constitutions, important texts in understanding the Liturgical practices and beliefs of the Early Church. And most of you recall the teachings of the later Church Fathers, in the debates over the Canon of the Bible and the formulation of the Creed of Nicaea and Constantinople.

The Patriarchal Institute of Patristic Studies in Thessaloniki (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2011)

The field of Patristics is that of the Early Christian writers known as the Church Fathers and their writings. The name comes from the Greek πατέρας (pateras) and the Latin pater (father). The period is generally considered to run from the end of the New Testament period or the end of the Apostolic Age (ca 100 AD) to either the Council of Chalcedon in 451 AD, or even to the Second Council of Nicaea in the eighth century.

Many scholars today would prefer to refer not to Patristics but to Early Christian Studies. But Patristics is more than the study of historical figures and historical writers. It is not merely an exploration in antiquity that has the church as its main field of interest. It is the very study in which we come to understand how the continuity of the Apostolic and the post-Apostolic Church in prayer life, in spirituality, in sacramental life, in trying to hold together our unity as the Body of Christ, and in a spirituality that found its expression too in our Creedal and Trinitarian formulas.

The Church Fathers

The prominent early Church Fathers whose writings form the basis for Patristics include Justin Martyr (ca 100-ca 165), Irenaeus of Lyons (ca 130- ca 200), Clement of Alexandria (ca 150-ca 215), Cyprian of Carthage (died 258), Athanasius of Alexandria (ca 296-ca 373), Gregory of Nazianus (329-389), Basil of Caesarea (ca 330-379), Gregory of Nyssa (ca 330-ca 395), Theodore of Mopsuestia (ca 350-428), Augustine of Hippo (354-430), Vincent of Lérin (died before 450) and Cyril of Alexandria (died 444).

Their thinking and their writings are found in epistles or letters, apologetics or defence of the developing and unfolding doctrine of the Church, in sermons, in accounts of their saintly lives and their martyrdom – for it was said in those days the blood of the martyrs was the seed of the church – in philosophical writings, and in accounts of pilgrimages, particularly to Jerusalem.

Their concerns include the Liturgy, personal and corporate prayer, how to live an ascetic life that remains appropriate, penance, the corpus of scripture, schism and heresy, creation and ethics.

The Church Fathers are generally divided into the Ante-Nicene Fathers, who lived and wrote before the First Council of Nicaea in 325, and the Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, who lived and wrote after 325. In addition, the division of the Fathers into Greek and Latin writers is also common.

Some of the most prominent Greek Fathers are: Justin Martyr, John Chrysostom and Cyril of Alexander. The Latin Fathers include Cyprian, Jerome, Ambrose of Milan, Gregory the Great and Augustine of Hippo. They lived and wrote across the Mediterranean world, in Constantinople, Alexandria, Antioch, Jerusalem, Rome and the area of north Africa around Carthage, as well as Milan and Jerusalem.

The view of the Coliseum from the Irish Dominican church at San Clemente (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

The Apostolic Fathers

The Apostolic Fathers, who are a small number of Early Christian writers, lived and wrote in the second half of the 1st century and the first half of the 2nd century. They are acknowledged as leaders in the Early Church, and although their writings are not included in the New Testament, many are regarded as contemporaries of or students and followers of the Apostles, the generation that had personal contact with the Disciples. In this way, they are seen as the link between the Apostles, who had personal contact with Christ, and the later generations of Church Fathers.

The Apostolic Fathers include: Clement of Rome, who was alive around 96 AD; Ignatius of Antioch and Polycarp of Smyrna.

Saint Clement of Rome was the author of the epistle known as I Clement (ca 96 AD). This is generally considered the oldest surviving Christian epistle outside the canon of the New Testament. In this letter, he calls on the Christians of Corinth to maintain harmony and order.

A colonnade of 14 Corinthian columns on the west side of the Stoa of Smyrna, the only surviving classical site in Izmir. Saint Ignatius of Antioch wrote four of his letters, including one to the Church in Smyrna, while he was a prisoner in Smyrna (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Saint Ignatius of Antioch (ca 35-110) is said to have directly known Saint John the Evangelist. On his way to martyrdom in Rome, he wrote a series of letters that provide an example of the theology of the early Christians. In his letters, he discusses ecclesiology, the sacraments, and the role and authority of bishops.

He identifies a local church structure of bishops, priest and deacons, with the bishop in the place of God, the priests in the place of Apostles, and the deacons serving as Christ served: “Let the bishop preside in the place of God, and his clergy in the place of the Apostolic conclave, and let my special friends the deacons be entrusted with the service of Jesus Christ, who was with the Father from all eternity and in these last days has been made manifest” – To the Magnesians, 6 (Andrew Louth).

Hear how Ignatius weaves together, in one of his letters, his Trinitarian faith, his understanding of the threefold order of bishop, priest and deacon, and links his Christology with his Ecclesiology: “Do your utmost to stand firm in the precepts of the Lord and the Apostles, so that everything you do, worldly or spiritual, may go prosperously from beginning to end in faith and love, in the Son and the Father and the Spirit, together with your most reverend bishop and that beautifully woven spiritual chaplet, your clergy and godly minded deacons. Be as submissive to the bishop and to one another as Jesus Christ was to his Father, and as the Apostles were to Christ and the Father; so that there may be complete unity, in the flesh as well as the spirit.” – To the Magnesians, 13 (Andrew Louth)

Ignatius claims to have spoken in some of the Churches through the inspiration of the Holy Spirit. In an early Patristic poem, he teaches the deity of Christ and his human and divine natures:

“There is only one Physician –

Very Flesh, yet Spirit too;
Uncreated and yet born;
God-and-Man in One agreed;
Very-Life-in-Death indeed;
Fruit of God and of Mary’s seed;
At once impassible and torn
By pain and suffering here below:
Jesus Christ, whom as Lord we know.” – To the Ephesians, 7 (Andrew Louth).

Saint Ignatius of Antioch ... referred to the Church as a “Eucharistic community” which realises its true nature when it celebrates the Eucharist, and defined the Church as the local community gathered around its bishop, celebrating the Eucharist

He is the second writer after Clement to mention Saint Paul’s Epistles, and he is also responsible for the first known use of the Greek word katholikos (καθολικός), meaning “universal,” “complete” and “whole” to describe the Church, writing:

“Where the bishop is to be seen, there let all his people be; just as wherever Jesus Christ is present, we have the catholic Church. Nor is it permissible to conduct baptisms or love-feasts [the Eucharist] without the bishop. On the other hand, whatever does have his sanction can be sure of God’s approval too.” – To the Smyrnaeans 8 (Andrew Louth).

Ignatius is also the first of the Church Fathers to speak about the presence of Christ in the Eucharist. He thought of the Church as a Eucharistic society which only realised its true nature when it celebrated the Supper of the Lord, receiving His Body and Blood in the Sacrament.” [Ignatius, quoted in Metropolitan Kallistos (Timothy) Ware, The Orthodox Church, p. 242.]

The 42-hectare Kültürpark was laid out on the ruins of the Greek quarter of Smyrna ... Saint Polycarp was Bishop of Smyrna and was martyred there (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Polycarp (ca 69-ca 155) was the Bishop of Smyrna (present-day Izmir in western Turkey). Irenaeus says “Polycarp also was not only instructed by the apostles, and conversed with many who had seen the Lord, but was also appointed bishop by apostles in Asia and in the church in Smyrna.” (Adversus haereses, 3.3.4).

According to the early Church historian, Eusebius, Irenaeus says that as a boy he had listened to accounts by Polycarp of his friendships with “John and with the others who had seen the Lord.” Polycarp died as a martyr in Smyrna in 155 AD.

The Greek, Latin and Desert Fathers

The Apostolic Fathers were followed by the Greek Fathers, including: Irenaeus of Lyons, Clement of Alexandria, Athansius of Alexandria, John Chrysostom, Cyril of Alexandria, the Cappdocian Fathers (Basil of Caesarea, Gregory Nazianzus, Peter of Sebeste and Gregory of Nyssa), Maximus the Confessor and John of Damascus.

Irenaeus, who was a disciple of Polycarp, wrote that the only way for Christians to retain unity is to humbly accept one doctrinal authority – episcopal councils, and he proposed that Matthew, Mark, Luke and John should all be accepted as canonical Gospels.

Clement of Alexandria united Greek philosophical traditions with Christian doctrine.

Athanasius of Alexandria is remembered for his role in the conflict with Arianism and for his affirmation of the Trinity. At the First Council of Nicaea (325), he argued against Arius, who said Christ is of a distinct substance from the Father.

The Cappadocian Fathers made major contributions to the definition of the Trinity, finalised at the First Council of Constantinople in 381 and the final version of the Nicene Creed, which was agreed there.

Among the Latin Fathers of the Church were Saint Cyprian of Carthage, Saint Hilary of Poitiers, Saint Ambrose of Milan, Saint Jerome, Saint Augustine of Hippo, Saint Gregory the Great.

The Desert Fathers were early monastics in the Egyptian Desert. Although their writings are not as extensive, their influence was immense. They include Saint Anthony the Great and Saint Pachomius. Many of their short and pithy sayings are collected in the Sayings of the Desert Fathers.

A small number of Church Fathers wrote in other languages: Saint Ephrem the Syrian and Saint Isaac the Syrian, for example, wrote in Syriac, although their works were widely translated into Latin and Greek.

An icon of the Church as a boat, including Christ, the Apostles and the Church Fathers

In patristic writings, we find a non-negotiable concern for the poor, the sick, and those in prison, balanced with demands for personal responsibility, honest work, and an orderly social life.

Saint Basil the Great wrote: “The bread which you do not use is the bread of the hungry; the garment hanging in your wardrobe is the garment of him who is naked; the shoes that you do not wear are the shoes of the one who is barefoot; the money that you keep locked away is the money of the poor; the acts of charity that you do not perform are so many injustices that you commit.”

The Monastery of Vatopedi on Mount Athos has the skull of Saint John Chrysostom (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Saint John Chrysostom, the great conscience of the Church on these matters, closed his second sermon on Lazarus and the Rich Man, preached in Antioch in the late 4th century, imploring his congregation to keep one main thing in mind: “I beg you, remember this without fail, that not to share our own wealth with the poor is theft from the poor and deprivation of their means of life. We do not possess our own wealth but theirs.”

It is a common Patristic saying that of the two, schism is worse than heresy. Behind this thinking is the presumption that a heretic is sincere in his belief — however erroneous — and so it could be that God may at least judge him on the basis of his sincerity, his personal integrity, and his consistency of action in regard to his principles. The schismatic, on the other hand, has willfully separated himself from others who share the same beliefs, thus denying the truth that unity and communion exist in the very confession of the same truth. Heresy might be seen as a sin of error, while schism is a sin against truth itself.

If I ever had any doubts about the potential for humour among the Early Fathers, my misgivings were dispelled a few years ago by Dr George Bebabwi, an Egyptian scholar now living in Indianapolis.

In the course of a lecture in Cambridge, he told a story from the Abbot Sophronius of a desert monk who was called on for an exorcism. The monk slowly took out the scroll of the Book Genesis and started to read methodically and carefully at Chapter 1, Verse 1, not verse-by-verse, or even word-by-word, but letter-by-letter: “I-N T-H-E B-E-G-I-N-N-I-N-G, G-O- …”

Before he got any further, the Devil interrupted the monk, demanding in an outraged voice: “This is an exorcism – aren’t you supposed to be reading the Psalms.”

“I’ll get to them, in my own good time,” the monk replied nonchalantly.

“I can’t wait that long,” was the impatient response. “I’m out of here now.”

If you are in danger of thinking the Desert Fathers are concerned only with their own personal salvation, and not with the salvation of the whole world, then they also warn against what may be described as “learning wisdom.” The Egyptian Desert Father, Abba Poemen, said: “A man who teaches without doing what he teaches is like a spring which cleanses and gives drinks to everyone, but is not able to purify itself.”

There was a monk in Egypt who wanted to be martyr. His abbot warned him against false heroism and told him it was easy to be unusual. True heroism, the abbot said, is found in daily life, looking for reality and finding God’s will there. The monk persisted in his quest for martyrdom, however, and headed off to an area controlled by nomadic tribes, and he demanded to become a martyr.

But once the nomadic people captured the monk, he was unable to resist, and rather than accept the pain of martyrdom he worshipped their idols. He returned to the monastery, where the abbot reminded him that true heroism often lies in dealing with daily realities rather than seeking to be dramatic or unusual.

If your image of the Early Fathers, particularly the Desert Fathers, is of humourless men stuck on the top of pillars or columns, sending down baskets with human waste and hauling them back up again full of food and drink, then think again of Saint Anthony, the founder of monasticism, saying: “Joy and not fear are the signs of the holy.”

When we look at the spirituality of the Church Fathers we should also remember those who were later regarded as heretics, including Tertullian (ca 160-ca 225), Origen (ca 185-ca 254), Pelagius and Nestorius (died ca 451). Although they never came to be regarded as Church Fathers, their writings help us to understand what the Church Fathers were countering, and who they were debating with. Indeed it was Tertullian who first said: “The blood of the martyrs is seed of the Church.”

Nor were all the Patristic writers men, either. One of the greatest descriptions of pilgrimage we have at time is by Egregia, who travelled from Gaul (France), spending three years in Egypt, Palestine, Syria, and Asia Minor, describing the churches and the liturgies, and seeking out healing centres such as that of Saint Thecla in Isauria, an inland district in south-central Anatolia

The rediscovery of Patristic texts and writings in the 15th and 16th centuries, following the exodus of Greek scholars with the fall of Byzantium is a major factor in understanding the Reformations, in particular the Anglican Reformation. And so, I conclude this part of our session this morning with the “Prayer of Saint Chrysostom” introduced to Anglicanism by Thomas Cranmer:

“Almighty God, you have given us grace at this time with one accord to make our common supplication to you; and you have promised through your well-beloved Son that when two or three are gathered together in his Name you will be in the midst of them: Fulfil now, O Lord, our desires and petitions as may be best for us; granting us in this world knowledge of your truth, and in the age to come life everlasting. Amen.”

As you bring your desires and petitions before God in our time of silence, take with you the collection of prayers attributed to Saint John Chrysostom, or meditate on some of the quotations included in the hand-out. We come back together at about 9.50 for a closing prayer and hymn.

Closing Prayer:

Let us pray, in the words of the Collect of the Day:

Almighty God,
in Christ you make all things new:
Transform the poverty of our nature
by the riches of your grace,
and in the renewal of our lives
make known your heavenly glory;
through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Closing Hymn: 446, ‘Strengthen for service, Lord the hands’, from the Liturgy of Malabar and attributed to Saint Ephtraim the Syrian (ca 306-373).

Westcott House, Cambridge … the theological college is named in honour of the great Anglican patristic scholar, Bishop Brooke Westcott (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Selected Reading and Bibliography

SA Harvey, DG Hunter (eds), The Oxford Handbook of Early Christian Studies (Oxford: OUP, 2008/2010).
MB Cunningham, E. Theokritoff (eds), The Cambridge Companion to Orthodox Christian Theology (Cambridge, CUP, 2008).
JB Lightfoot, Apostolic Fathers (London: MacMillan, 1891, 1907)
Andrew Louth (ed), Early Christian Writings (London: Penguin, 1987).
Cyril Richardson (ed), Early Christian Fathers (London: SCM Press, 1953).
JWC Wand, The Greek Doctors (London: Faith press, 1950).
Benedicta Ward, The Destert Fathers, Sayings of the Early Christian Monks (London: Penguin, 2003).

Hand-out for a time of meditation:

The Ladder of Divine Ascent … is an icon from Mount Sinai based on a book of the same name on the ascetic and monastic life, written ca 600 AD by Saint John Klimakos

Prayers of Saint John Chrysostom:

Saint John Chrysostom

1. O Lord, deprive me not of your heavenly blessings.
2. O Lord, deliver me from eternal torment.
3. O Lord, if I have sinned in my mind or thought, in word or deed, forgive me.
4. O Lord, deliver me from every ignorance and heedlessness, from pettiness of the soul and stony hardness of heart.
5. O Lord, deliver me from every temptation.
6. O Lord, enlighten my heart darkened by evil desires.
7. O Lord, I, being a human being, have sinned; I ask you, being God, to forgive me in your loving kindness, for you know the weakness of my soul.
8. O Lord, send down your grace to help me, that I may glorify your holy Name.
9. O Lord Jesus Christ, inscribe me, your servant, in the Book of Life, and grant me a blessed end.
10. O Lord my God, even if I have done nothing good in your sight, yet grant me, according to your grace, that I may make a start in doing good.
11. O Lord, sprinkle on my heart the dew of your grace.
12. O Lord of heaven and earth, remember me, your sinful servant, cold of heart and impure, in your Kingdom.
13. O Lord, receive me in repentance.
14. O Lord, leave me not.
15. O Lord, save me from temptation.
16. O Lord, grant me pure thoughts.
17. O Lord, grant me tears of repentance, remembrance of death, and the sense of peace.
18. O Lord, grant me mindfulness to confess my sins.
19. O Lord, grant me humility, charity, and obedience.
20. O Lord, grant me tolerance, magnanimity, and gentleness.
21. O Lord, implant in me the root of all blessings: the fear of you in my heart.
22. O Lord, grant that I may love you with all my heart and soul, and that in all things I may obey your will.
23. O Lord, shield me from evil persons and devils and passions and all other lawless matters.
24. O Lord, who knows your creation and what you have willed for it; may your will also be fulfilled in me, a sinner, for you art blessed for evermore. Amen.

Excerpts from The Sayings of the Desert Fathers:

1, “A hermit said, ‘Take care to be silent. Empty your mind. Attend to your meditation in the fear of God, whether you are resting or at work. If you do this, you will not fear the attacks of the demons.”
2, Abba Moses, “Sit in your cell and your cell will teach you all.”
3, “Somebody asked Anthony, ‘What shall I do in order to please God?’ He replied, ‘Do what I tell you, which is this: wherever you go, keep God in mind; whatever you do, follow the example of Holy Scripture; wherever you are, stay there and do not move away in a hurry. If you keep to these guidelines, you will be saved’.”
4, “He (Evagrius) also said, ‘A monk was told that his father had died. He said to the messenger, ‘Do not blaspheme. My Father cannot die’.”
5, Abbot Pastor said, “If someone does evil to you, you should do good to him, so that by your good work you may drive out his malice.”
6, An Elder said, “A man who keeps death before his eyes will at all times overcome his cowardliness.”
7, Blessed Macarius said, “This is the truth, if a monk regards contempt as praise, poverty as riches, and hunger as a feast, he will never die.”
8, “It happened that as Abba Arsenius was sitting in his cell that he was harassed by demons. His servants, on their return, stood outside his cell and heard him praying to God in these words, ‘O God, do not leave me. I have done nothing good in your sight, but according to your goodness, let me now make a beginning of good’.”

Some of this morning’s quotes:

“Do your utmost to stand firm in the precepts of the Lord and the Apostles, so that everything you do, worldly or spiritual, may go prosperously from beginning to end in faith and love, in the Son and the Father and the Spirit, together with your most reverend bishop and that beautifully woven spiritual chaplet, your clergy and godly minded deacons. Be as submissive to the bishop and to one another as Jesus Christ was to his Father, and as the Apostles were to Christ and the Father; so that there may be complete unity, in the flesh as well as the spirit.” – Ignatius, To the Magnesians, 13 (Andrew Louth)

“There is only one Physician –

Very Flesh, yet Spirit too;
Uncreated and yet born;
God-and-Man in One agreed;
Very-Life-in-Death indeed;
Fruit of God and of Mary’s seed;
At once impassible and torn
By pain and suffering here below:
Jesus Christ, whom as Lord we know. – Ignatius, To the Ephesians, 7 (Andrew Louth).

“Where the bishop is to be seen, there let all his people be; just as wherever Jesus Christ is present, we have the catholic Church. Nor is it permissible to conduct baptisms or love-feasts [the Eucharist] without the bishop. On the other hand, whatever does have his sanction can be sure of God’s approval too.” – Ignatius, To the Smyrnaeans 8 (Andrew Louth).

“The bread which you do not use is the bread of the hungry; the garment hanging in your wardrobe is the garment of him who is naked; the shoes that you do not wear are the shoes of the one who is barefoot; the money that you keep locked away is the money of the poor; the acts of charity that you do not perform are so many injustices that you commit.” – Saint Basil the Great.

“I beg you, remember this without fail, that not to share our own wealth with the poor is theft from the poor and deprivation of their means of life. We do not possess our own wealth but theirs.” – Saint John Chrysostom

Patrick Comerford is Lecturer in Anglicanism and Liturgy, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute, and a canon of Christ Church Cathedral. This essay is based on notes used for a lecture on Patristic Spirituality on 16 January 2012 in the Spirituality Programme as part of the Pastoral Formation module on the MTh course.

A brisk walk along the coast in Ordinary Time

2012-01-15T18:28:00.005Z

With the high tide, there was little beach to see at Seapoint this afternoon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2012)

Patrick Comerford

It has been a busy weekend, the academic semester has started, the part-time MTh students were in for a full-residential weekend, and we finished with a celebration of the Eucharist at which I president late this morning, followed by a buffet lunch.

I fail to understand why in the calendar of the Church of Ireland we are numbering these Sundays the “Sundays after the Epiphany” and then, after Candlemas, the “Sundays before Lent.” After all, Epiphany marks the end of the Christmas Season, it does not need another few weeks, as if we are marking “the end of the end.” And Lent is itself a time of preparation for Easter; we do not need a time of preparation for preparation.

It all reminds me the television chef who was known for saying: “Here’s one I pre-prepared earlier.”

This is Ordinary Time. And what’s wrong with being Ordinary people, in Ordinary places, doing Ordinary things, in Ordinary Time? It was a question I asked at the beginning of our celebration of the Eucharist this morning. The Gospel story was a reminder that Christ calls ordinary people, in ordinary circumstances, in ordinary places, in ordinary time, to do very extraordinary things for his Church and for the Kingdom of God.

After lunch, two of us went for an ordinary walk, on an ordinary beach, to get a little bit of ordinary air through our lungs.

The wetlands at Booterstown looked like a sump this afternoon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2012)

Initially, we thought of going for a walk at the wetlands in Booterstown. But, for some reason, they just looked like a sump today, and after a brief stop there we moved on a little further instead. We parked the car at Seafield Avenue in Monkstown, crossed over Seapoint Avenue, and walked down to Brighton Vale and the Martello Tower at Seapoint. The cul-de-sac at Brighton Vale was built in the 19th century and is the only residential street on the seaward side of the Dart line between Merrion Gates and Scotsman’s Bay.

The Martello Tower was once the headquarters of the Genealogical Society of Ireland, but they found the atmosphere was not conducive to preserving records. Beside the Martello Tower, there is a tiny beach and bathing areas that are popular throughout the year. This afternoon, there was one brave man slowly inching his way into the winter sea beneath the Martello Tower, and just as his hips hit the water I could see his back stiffen and his shoulders arch – the water must have been truly cold, and he must have been truly brave.

The foreshore at the foot of the promenade is a mix of pebbles and sand, interspersed with large granite outcrops. But the waves were a little high this afternoon, beating against the concrete walkway, it was difficult to see any beach at Seapoint today.

Early cherry blossom in Dun Laoghaire this afternoon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2012)

We had a brisk walk on past Salthill and Monkstown Dart station, by the ‘Gut’ and as far as the West Pier at Dun Laoghaire, before turning back, and walking along the streets, from the Purty Kitchen, along Longford Terrace and Seapoint Avenue, admiring the early blooms, including cherry blossom, in some front gardens before we returned to Seafield Avenue.

It was cold, and the brisk walk took less than an hour. It may have been a coastal walk, but with today’s tides it is difficult to describe it as a beach walk.

A rusty gate and a secret garden (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2012)

Notes for a Practical Liturgy Workshop

2012-01-14T19:30:00.004Z

The Altar in Rathfarnham Parish Church, Dublin, covered with a fair white cloth, and with the Communion vessels covered with a burse and veil (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2012)

Patrick Comerford

Church of Ireland Theological Institute,

14 January 2012

7 p.m. Notes for a Practical Liturgy Workshop in the Chapel (elective)

Introduction:

When we come to the module on Liturgy later in this course, it may be too late for some of you to ask the questions already raised during your parish placements about how to behave physically, and manually during the liturgy, too late too to ask questions about the different vessels, materials and settings found in a variety of parishes during the liturgy.

The Chapel Guidebook provides wise and considered advice on how to introduce readings from Scripture, how to compose intercessions, and so on.

But how do you enter and leave the church before and after a service?

Let’s discuss that first and then move on to some other considerations.

[Discussion]

Part 1:

Setting out the Altar/Table for the Eucharist/Holy Communion:

Why linens?

Altar linens are most often made of linen. It is sometimes said that this because Christ’s grave-clothes were linen. Most altar linens are square.

The proper way to fold altar linens after they have been ironed is in thirds lengthwise, then in thirds crosswise, ending up with a square. They ought not to be creased with an iron.

When unfolded, the folds make nine squares. They should be folded so that if there is an embroidered symbol, it is on top.

It worth noting that if the altar cloths are real linen, best results are provided if you iron the reverse side with a hot iron while they are damp, then the front side when they are dry. Paying attention to the edges means they remain straight.

The usual altar linens are:

● corporals
● purificators
● chalice palls
● chalice veils

In general, the altar is set up as follows:

1, Place the fair linen cloth on the altar over any paraments.
2, Place the corporal in the centre, on top of the fair linen cloth.
3, Place the chalice on the centre of the corporal.
4, Fold the purificator in thirds lengthwise and drape it over the chalice, side to side.
5, Place the paten on top of the purificator.
6, Place the chalice pall over the paten
7, Drape the veil over the whole assembly.
8, Place the burse, with the chalice corporal inside it, on top of the veil, with the opening in the pocket facing where the presiding priest is going to stand for the Eucharistic Prayer..

1, The Fair White Linen Cloth:

A fair linen cloth covering the altar in Donabate Parish Church, Co Dublin (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

The opening rubrics for Holy Communion used to state: “The Table, at the Communion time having a fair white linen cloth upon it, shall stand in the Body of the Church, or in the Chancel” [The Book of Common Prayer (1960), p. 138.] The Book of Common Prayer (2004) says: “At the time of the celebration of the Holy Communion, the holy table is to be covered by a white cloth” (p. 77). This rubric is also in the Canons of the Church (Canon #15), which are part of the Constitution of the Church of Ireland.

This cloth is usually of good heavy linen, usually rectangular in shape and he same width as the Altar or Communion Table; it usually hangs on either side to about six nine inches above the floor.

This cloth should be laundered frequently and rolled rather than folded after ironing. It should be moderately starched when it is laundered.

I would suggest that when it is not in use, especially during most weekdays, it should be covered with a coloured linen cloth, perhaps matching the soft furnishings in the church

2, The Corporal

The Corporal folds into nine squares

The name Corporal applies to two square linen cloths, one that goes over the fair linen cloth and under the chalice, the other used to cover the chalice after all have received Communion.

The word “corporal” comes from the Latin word “corpus” meaning body. The Corporal should be folded into three equal parts, both in its length and in its width, i.e. the anterior part is folded over the middle; then the posterior part is turned down over the anterior part; after this the part at the priest’s right is folded over the middle, and finally the part at the priest’s left is folded over these.

The first corporal is placed over fair linen cloth and beneath the chalice, the second corporal is placed in the burse so that the edge of the last fold is towards the opening of the burse, which faces the priest.

3, The Purificator

The Purificator, folded over the Chalice

The Purificator (or ‘Mundatory’ or ‘Purificatory’) serves as a napkin to “purify” or wipe the chalice after each communicant receives from the chalice. This is a rectangular piece of cloth, made from linen or hemp, used to wipe the Chalice before the Offertory and after each communicant has received from the Chalice.

Increasingly I find purificators being replaced with paper tissues in many parishes. After from questions about hygiene, questions about taste and dignity also arise. If you do find yourself in this practice as a curate, ensure that the paper tissues are burned rather than binned after use, and remind yourself to get out of the habit when you become a rector.

4, The Chalice Pall

The Chalice Pall

The chalice pall is a stiff square linen cloth, often measuring seven by seven inches, usually with a cardboard or plastic stiffener, sometimes decorated with a Cross or other embroidery. This covers the chalice.

Its original function was to protect the elements of bread and wine from insects, and to prevent impurities from falling into the chalice. It still prevents dust falling into it. If it is embroidered or made of silk, the side touching the Chalice ought to be made of linen.

5, The Chalice Corporal

The Chalice Corporal is the cloth referred to in the rubrics: “When all have communicated, the minister shall return to the Lord’s Table, and reverently place upon it what remaineth of the consecrated Elements, covering the same with a fair linen cloth” [The Book of Common Prayer (1960), p. 151.]

The Chalice Corporal is kept in the burse before the reception of Holy Communion, and is then draped over the chalice and paten after we have all received Communion.

6, Chalice Veil

The burse and veil in green, the liturgical colour for Ordinary Time

The chalice veil is a large square cloth, more often the colour of the liturgical season. It sometimes has an embroidered or appliquéd motif. It is draped over the whole assembly so that the symbol faces the congregation.

7, Burse

The Burse is the 10-inch square folder or container used to hold the Chalice Pall. The burse covers the chalice before the Holy Communion service, with the opening of the burse facing toward the priest.

8, Paraments

The paraments include the pulpit and lectern falls (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Paraments are decorative cloths that cover various items in the chancel of the church, hanging down in front of them. A full set of paraments includes one for the altar, one for the pulpit, one for the lectern, and a bookmark for the Bible. They are usually the colour of the season and they often have an appropriate embroidered or appliquéd symbol.

Part 2:

The Communion vessels:

1, The Chalice

The Chalice, with the Paten to the right

A chalice is the special drinking cup with a bowl, a single stem, and a foot, used to hold the Communion wine. The stem may have a knob to make it easier to grasp.

Chalices are generally made of silver, gold, or ceramics. Throughout the Church of Ireland, most communicants sip from the chalice. Usually they take the chalice in their hands, but in some parishes the priest or deacon administering the chalice may still hold it.

In some Anglican traditions, communicants dip the Communion bread into the chalice – this is known as intinction. Be aware that it may happen; it is particularly difficult if you are using ordinary bread rather than Communion wafers or hosts. After the chalice is used, the server wipes it with the purificator, and rotates it before presenting to the next communicant.

2, The Paten

The Paten is the circular plate on which the Communion bread is placed. It is used with a chalice and is made of the same material as the chalice.

Small patens may be neat if you are using Communion hosts and there is a small congregation. I prefer to use one large piece of bread, so once it is broken at the fraction a small paten becomes ungainly. So you may prefer to find a bowl that serves as a paten. In some Anglican traditions, a vessel that is very similar to the chalice may be used for Communion hosts or wafers.

3, The Cruets:

Cruets on the Credence Table

These vessels hold the water and wine before the Communion.

Be careful not to confuse the water used at the Offertory to add to the wine, with the water used for lavabo

4, Lavabo:

Lavabo

I like to use lavabo after I have received the bread and the wine at the offertory, and once again after the ablutions. Finger Towels may be made of any material, preferably linen, and are used at the lavabo and after Communion.

As for the ablutions, the Book of Common Prayer has stated “if any remain of the Bread and Wine which was consecrated, it shall not be carried out of the Church, but the Priest, and such other as he shall then call unto him, shall … reverently eat and drink the same.” [The Book of Common Prayer (1960), p. 155.] Today, The Book of Common Prayer (2004) stipulates: “Any of the consecrated bread and wine remaining after the administration of the communion is to be reverently consumed ... the communion vessels shall be carefuly and thoroughly cleansed with water” (p. 77).

This means they should not be fed to the birds, poured down the sink or onto the grass in the churchyard … or other more irreverent practises I have seen.

A summary illustration:

(a) Chalice: the Eucharistic cup, often made of gold or silver, used to hold the wine after the Offertory.

(b) Purificator: used for wiping the chalice.

(c) Paten: The, often of gold or silver, on which the bread is placed at the Offertory.

(d) Pall: The square, stiffened piece of linen placed over the chalice to prevent dust falling into it.

(e) Chalice Veil: the cloth the covers the chalice until the Offertory, and again after Communion has been received; it is made of the appropriate liturgical colour.

(f) Burse and Corporal: the Burse is a square container for the corporal when the Corporal is not in use. It is made of the same material and colour as the vestments. The Corporal is a square piece of linen, like a small napkin. It is spread out on the altar, and the chalice is placed upon it. .

Part 3: Liturgical colours

Since fabrics – such as banners, stoles and vestments – must be of one colour or the other, the historic Church has used colours to set the theme of worship. Colour usage was more diverse in the past, mainly because dyes were expensive and it was not as easy as it is today to get fabric in any colour.

In modern times, a consensus has developed about the use of colours in the western Church: green, purple, white, and red, with gold or ivory being alternatives to white. Black, for the most part, is no longer in use. The Orthodox Churches use colours differently.

Green:

Green is the default colour. Green is the colour of vegetation; therefore it is the colour of life. Green is the colour for Ordinary Time, which in the Church of Ireland is after the Feast of the Presentation (Candlemas) and after the Season after Pentecost. In ‘Ordinary Time’ the Sundays ordinarily have no names, just ordinal numbers.

Violet or Purple:

In antiquity, purple dye was very expensive, so purple came to signify wealth, power, and royalty. Therefore, violet or purple is the colour for the seasons of Advent and Lent, which celebrate the coming of the King. Since as Christians we prepare for our King through reflection and repentance, purple has also become a penitential colour.

White:

Angels announced Christ’s birth (Luke 2: 8-15) and his Resurrection (Luke 24:1-8). The New Testament consistently uses white to describe angels and the Risen Lord (see Matthew 17: 2 and 28: 3, Mark 9: 3 and 16: 5, John 20: 12, Acts 1: 10, and throughout Revelation.) In the ancient Church, people were given white robes as they emerged from the waters of baptism. And so, white is the colour for the seasons of Easter and Christmas. White is the colour for funerals, as it is the colour of the Resurrection, for weddings, regardless of the season, and for secular holidays observed in the Church.

Red

Red is the colour for Pentecost Sunday and often for ordinations and installations (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Red is the colour of blood, and of martyrdom. Red is the colour for any service that commemorates the death of a martyr. It is also an alternative colour for the last week of Lent, Holy Week. Red is the colour for Pentecost Sunday and often for ordinations and installations as the colour of fire and of the Holy Spirit (see Acts 2: 3).

Gold:

Gold or ivory are alternatives to white. It is designated especially for Christmas Day and for Easter Day.

Blue:

Sarum Blue is an alternative to purple during Advent. Some churches use blue during Advent to avoid the penitential connotation of purple.

Black:

Black is the colour of clericals (cassocks are clericals, not vestments). Before the advent of modern dyes, all dress clothes were black—just look at any photograph taken in the 19th century, or the way they dress for dinner in Downton Abbey. The main historical connotation of black is formality. Because we do not wear black as often today, it has survived as a formal colour only at very solemn occasions, such as funerals. For some people today, black immediately connotes a funeral. Black is sometimes, but rarely, the colour for funeral services, Good Friday, and All Souls’ Day (2 November).

Rose:

Rose (that is, a shade of pink) was sometimes used on the third Sunday in Advent, to signify joy.

The use of the colour rose has a strange origin. Long ago, the Pope had the custom of giving someone a rose on the Fourth Sunday in Lent (Laetare Sunday). This led to Roman Catholic clergy wearing rose-coloured vestments on that Sunday. Rose gives some relief the solemnity of Lent, so this became a popular custom.

Originally Advent was a solemn fast in preparation for Christmas, so the custom was extended to the Third Sunday in Advent (Gaudete Sunday) to liven it up a little too. And so the third candle on the Advent wreath turned pink at some stage. Now, Advent is no longer so solemn and the Pope no longer has the custom of giving out roses.

I find it interesting to think that a Methodist would put a pink candle in a Lutheran Advent wreath because the Pope used to have the custom of giving out roses!

Part 4: Robes

The canons (#12, Ecclesiastical apparel) say every member of the clergy, at public services of the Church, may wear a cassock, shall wear a plain white surplice and black scarf or stole, may wear bands and hood, and when preaching may wear a plain back gown.

1, The Cassock:

The cassock is along, close-fitting, ankle-length robe. The cassock derives from the tunic that was formerly worn underneath the toga in classical antiquity. The word cassock probably comes from the word casaque, which means cloak; or cassaca, which means white.

In the past, it was known in Latin as vestis talaris. Although the cassock was once the universal everyday clothing of the clergy, many have abandoned it as in favour of a clerical suit. Still, wearing the cassock as an everyday item can sometimes be a mark of a traditional cleric.

2, The Surplice:

Cassock, surplice, scarf and hood are known collectively as choir habit

The surplice (late Latin superpelliceum, from super (over) and pellis (fur)) has the form of a tunic of white linen or cotton material, with wide or moderately wide sleeves, reaching to the hips or to the knee. It is most typically plainly hemmed.

The surplice is meant to be a miniature alb, is appropriately worn by any cleric, by lectors and acolytes, by choir members or by servers.

It is always worn over a cassock and never alone, and is never gathered by a belt or cincture.

It may be worn under a stole by deacons and priests for liturgical occasions and at the celebration of sacraments.

On occasions, a cope is worn over the cassock, surplice and stole for greater solemnity. As part of the choir dress of the clergy, the surplice is normally not worn by a bishop and some canons – who wear the rochet instead.

The surplice originally reached to the feet, but as early as the 13th century it began to shorten, though as late as the 15th century it still fell to the middle of the shin, and only in the 17th and 18th centuries did it become considerably shorter.

In all probability the surplice forms no more than an expansion of the ordinary liturgical alb, due to the necessity for wearing it over thick furs. Originally only a choir vestment and peculiar to lower clergy, it gradually replaced the alb as the from proper vestment proper for administering the sacraments and other sacerdotal functions.

The 1552 Book of Common Prayer prescribed the surplice – along with the tippet and the academic hood – as the sole vestment of the minister at “all times of their ministration,” the rochet being practically regarded as the episcopal surplice. The more extreme Reformers opposed its use, but the Act of Uniformity (1559) retained the surplice, and its use was enforced in law.

Formerly Anglican clergy only wore the surplice when conducting services, and exchanged it at the sermon for the “black gown,” either a Geneva gown or an academic gown. This custom has, however, become almost completely obsolete. The “black gown” survives in comparatively few of churches, although some preachers of university sermons have retained the custom of wearing the gown of their degree.

The traditional form of the surplice in the Church of England survived from pre-Reformation times: a wide-sleeved, very full, plain, white linen tunic, pleated from the yoke, and reaching almost, or quite, to the feet.

3, Scarf or tippet

Wearing a black scarf or tippet over a white surplice and black cassock

The Scarf or Tippet is worn with choir dress (cassock, surplice and hood) and hangs straight down at the front. Ordained clergy wear a black tippet, while licensed readers wear a blue one. It is normally simply referred to as a preaching scarf, black scarf, or blue scarf. The tippet is different from the stole, which although often worn like a scarf is a liturgical vestment.

The clergy have used the tippet or scarf as a distinctive mark, although it has no liturgical significance and originally was merely a part of clerical outdoor dress.

4, The alb

Wearing an alb and stole at the Eucharist

The alb is an ample garment of white linen coming down to the ankles and usually girded with a cincture. It is simply the long linen tunic used by the Romans of old.

It is the oldest liturgical vestment, and was adopted very early by Christians, and especially by the clergy for the Eucharist, and is worn under any other special garments, such as the stole, dalmatic, or chasuble.

The shortening of the alb for use outside a church has given rise to the surplice and its cousin the rochet, worn by canons and bishops. So, the use of the alb is covered by the canon expecting us to wear a surplice.

5, Stoles

Stoles may be worn instead of a black scarf on sacramental occasions, but ought not to replace the scarf during choir offices. Stoles follow the pattern of liturgical colours set out in the calendar and Table of Readings in The Book of Common Prayer (2004), pp 27-70.

5, The chasuble

The chasuble is the outermost liturgical vestment worn by clergy for the Eucharist in Western-tradition Churches that use full vestments, especially the Roman Catholic Church, some parts of the Anglican Communion, and by some Methodists.

It is the primary vestment in many Lutheran Churches, especially the Nordic Lutheran churches, and it is the principal outer vestment for bishops and priests in the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America. In the Eastern Churches, the equivalent vestment is the phelonion.

6, Clerical collar:

The clerical collar is a fairly modern invention. The detachable collar itself is supposed to have been invented in 1827, although the collarino may date back to the 17th century. The practice of Anglican clergy wearing a detachable clerical collar was introduced by a Rev Dr Donald McLeod and became more popular through the Oxford Movement. Clerical collars are sometimes informally called dog collars. The term ‘Roman collar’ refers to a style and is not meant to insinuate that the wearer is a Roman Catholic.

7, The Cope:

Cathedral copes ... with the Precentor, Canon Peter Campion, and the Dean, the Very Revd Dermot Dunne, in Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin, at a carol service before Christmas

The cope (known in Latin as pluviale, “rain coat,” or cappa, “cape”) may be described as a very long mantle or cloak, open in front and fastened at the breast with a band or clasp. It is often used by cathedral clergy for choir offices, such as Matins or Evensong.

Supplemental notes for questions and answers

Rubrics

The rubrics outline the parameters of acceptable practice with regard to ritual, vestments, ornaments, and method and means of distribution of the sacrament.

The communal piety of a given parish or diocese will determine the expression of these rubrics, and thus the implicit Eucharistic theology maintained by the congregation.

Until the latter part of the 19th century, the so-called “Ornaments Rubric” of the 1662 Book of Common Prayer inhibited much of the ceremonial contemporary Anglicans take for granted. Priests were directed to stand at the north side or north end of the altar, candles on the altar were forbidden, as was the wearing of a chasuble.

But following the ritual controversies of the late 19th century in England and Ireland, a much greater diversity of practice has been explored throughout many other parts of the Anglican Communion.

In many “Low Church” parishes, ceremonial is kept at a minimum. The priest may be attired simply in a cassock, surplice, and a black scarf (tippet). This is a priest’s “choir habit” as opposed to the Eucharistic vestments.

Manual action may be kept to the minimum standards of the rubrics – they are often confined to placing one’s hands on the elements during the Words of Institution, although there is a generous latitude in interpreting what is understand by the elevation of the paten and chalice in Canon 13.4

Candles may be absent, and the material on the altar limited to the fair white cloth and the chalice and paten.

The celebration of Eucharist may be weekly, or even less frequent (such as monthly). This infrequency is in keeping with the Anglican practice that was predominant prior to the 20th Century, but does not take account of the rubrics in the Book of Common Prayer (2004).

Little or no attention may be given to the unconsumed consecrated bread and wine, and when it is consumed afterwards.

In most “Broad Church” parishes, there is slightly more elaboration. At the Eucharist, the priest may be vested in alb and stole, and – in some instances – a chasuble. He or she may make use of lavabo in preparation for the celebration, and the chalice and paten may be initially concealed by a burse and veil. Candles will almost always be present on the altar.

In these Anglican parishes, the Holy Communion is typically celebrated every Sunday, or at least most Sundays. It may also be celebrated once or twice at other times during the week. The reserved sacrament may be kept in an aumbry or consumed.

“Broad Church” Anglicans may not reverence the sacrament, as such, but will frequently bow when passing the altar.

“High Church” worship involves further elaboration. The priest will often be joined by a deacon, and subdeacon, fully dressed in the historic Eucharistic vestments for their office (chasuble, dalmatic, and tunicle). They may wear maniples and ornamented amices.

In many churches, the altar will be fixed against the “east wall,” and the ministers may celebrate facing the altar, with their backs to the congregation. The altar may have six candles. Incense and sanctus bells are often used during the liturgy, and the Eucharist itself is supplemented by a number of so-called “secret prayers” uttered by the presiding celebrant.

The lavabo and burse and veil are used unfailingly in Anglo-Catholic churches and parishes. Anglo-Catholic Eucharistic theology emphasises frequent Communion, and the unconsumed elements are often reserved. When the sacrament is present, Anglo-Catholics genuflect when passing in front of it. When absent, they bow to the altar.

Administration

The means of administration may vary from parish to parish

While the matter is unfailingly bread or wine, there is variation.

Bread: The bread may be in the form of individual wafers or an actual loaf, from which pieces are torn off and distributed. Canon 13.5 allows wafers in limited circumstances, although this is often interpreted generously.

Wine: Wine is typically red, but may be white (to avoid unsightly staining of the linen purificators, which wipe the chalice rim after each administration). In some instances, fortified wine, such as sherry or port wine, is used. In others, the option of juice is offered, usually in consideration of communicants who may be alcoholic. A certain popular blackcurrant juice is not made from grapes, does not taste like wine, and – no matter how some people may try to convince me – does not even look like wine,. Of course, it is perfectly acceptable and valid for people who are celiacs or diabetics to receive the sacrament only in one kind, i.e., the bread or the wine. But there is good celiac-friendly bread, and there is good dealcoholised wine.

The modes of administration may vary. Many parishes retain an altar rail, separating the area around the altar from the rest of the church. This practice is meant to convey the sanctity associated with the altar, and those receiving Communion come forward and kneel at the rail, sometimes making the sign of the cross and cupping their hands (right over left) to receive the consecrated bread, then crossing themselves again to receive from the chalice.

If you are administering the chalice, remember always to echo the words of administration used by the presiding priest.

Anglo-Catholics may be careful not to chew the bread (hence the popularity of wafers in Anglo-Catholic parishes) and not to touch the chalice. Indeed, some prefer to have the bread placed directly on their tongue. In other parishes, communicants stand to receive. In some places, people may communicate one another, standing in a circle around the altar.

The practice of using individual cups (derisively called “shot glasses” or “Presbyterian shooters”) and handing out individual wafers or pieces of bread to be consumed simultaneously by the whole congregation is uncommon in Anglicanism, but not unheard of.

Anglican practice is that those who administer the sacrament or distribute the bread and the wine must be licensed by the diocesan bishop. Traditionally, priests and deacons were the only ones authorised to administer; however, many provinces and dioceses now permit lay administrators. In some places, a lay-person is restricted to distributing the wine, while the clergy administer the bread (but see The Book of Common Prayer (2004), p. 77, 14 (b).

Some additional reading:

The Book of Common Prayer – Resource Manual (resources originally circulated to clergy as the Book of Common Prayer Resource Folder)

Mark Earey, Liturgical Worship: a fresh look, how it works, why it matters (London: Church House Publishing, 2002).

Howard E. Galley, The Ceremonies of the Eucharist, A Guide to Celebration (Cambridge MA: Cowley Publications, 1989).

Richard Giles, Creating Uncommon Worship: transforming the liturgy of the Eucharist (Norwich: Canterbury Press, 2004).

Benjamin Gordon-Taylor and Simon Jones, Celebrating the Eucharist (London: SPCK, 2005, Alcuin Liturgy Guides 3).

Patrick Comerford is Lecturer in Anglicanism and Liturgy, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute, and a canon of Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin. These notes were prepared for a workshop in the Institute Chapel on Saturday 14 January 2012, with part-time students on the MTh course

‘Follow me and I will make you fish for people’

2012-01-14T09:30:00.003Z

Fishermen taking care of their nets in the fishing harbour at Pythagoreio on the island of Samos (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2010)

Patrick Comerford

Sunday week [22 January 2012] is the Third Sunday after the Epiphany, and the readings in the Revised Common Lectionary are: Jonah 3: 1-5, 10; Psalm 62: 5-12; I Corinthians 7: 29-31; and Mark 1: 14-20.

Mark 1: 14-20

The themes in this Gospel reading offer plenty of fruit for thought in a well-thought-through Sunday sermon. They include: the Good News, the coming of the Kingdom of God, repentance, belief, and call and following.

But we cannot just pluck themes out of a lectionary reading and use them to our own purpose and end. That would be lazy preaching, and it would do no service either to those who listen to our sermons, or to the Gospel message itself.

When we are preparing a sermon based on a lectionary reading, we must remember the contexts in which we are preaching, including: those who are going to hear our sermon; current concerns in the community (and not just the parish as community); the current cycle of lectionary readings (at present we are in Year B, reading primarily from Saint Mark’s Gospel); the readings for the previous and the following Sundays; and the other readings of the day, even if we only refer to them briefly.

This morning in our Bible study, we are going to look at the Gospel reading for Sunday week, Mark 1: 14-20:

Mark 1: 14-20

14 Μετὰ δὲ τὸ παραδοθῆναι τὸν Ἰωάννην ἦλθεν ὁ Ἰησοῦς εἰς τὴν Γαλιλαίαν κηρύσσων τὸ εὐαγγέλιον τοῦ θεοῦ 15 καὶ λέγων ὅτι Πεπλήρωται ὁ καιρὸς καὶ ἤγγικεν ἡ βασιλεία τοῦ θεοῦ: μετανοεῖτε καὶ πιστεύετε ἐν τῷ εὐαγγελίῳ.

16 Καὶ παράγων παρὰ τὴν θάλασσαν τῆς Γαλιλαίας εἶδεν Σίμωνα καὶ Ἀνδρέαν τὸν ἀδελφὸν Σίμωνος ἀμφιβάλλοντας ἐν τῇ θαλάσσῃ: ἦσαν γὰρ ἁλιεῖς. 17 καὶ εἶπεν αὐτοῖς ὁ Ἰησοῦς, Δεῦτε ὀπίσω μου, καὶ ποιήσω ὑμᾶς γενέσθαι ἁλιεῖς ἀνθρώπων. 18 καὶ εὐθὺς ἀφέντες τὰ δίκτυα ἠκολούθησαν αὐτῷ. 19 Καὶ προβὰς ὀλίγον εἶδεν Ἰάκωβον τὸν τοῦ Ζεβεδαίου καὶ Ἰωάννην τὸν ἀδελφὸν αὐτοῦ, καὶ αὐτοὺς ἐν τῷ πλοίῳ καταρτίζοντας τὰ δίκτυα, 20 καὶ εὐθὺς ἐκάλεσεν αὐτούς. καὶ ἀφέντες τὸν πατέρα αὐτῶν Ζεβεδαῖον ἐν τῷ πλοίῳ μετὰ τῶν μισθωτῶν ἀπῆλθον ὀπίσω αὐτοῦ.

14 Now after John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God, 15 and saying, ‘The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.’

16 As Jesus passed along the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the lake – for they were fishermen. 17 And Jesus said to them, ‘Follow me and I will make you fish for people.’ 18 And immediately they left their nets and followed him. 19 As he went a little farther, he saw James son of Zebedee and his brother John, who were in their boat mending the nets. 20 Immediately he called them; and they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired men, and followed him.

The context:

Yes, we are reading from Saint Mark’s Gospel, in the Year B cycle of lectionary readings. But tomorrow’s Gospel reading is John 1: 43-51. Saint Mark’s Gospel is so short it would be stretching it too far to provide readings for every Sunday for a full year.

But tomorrow’s Gospel reading also helps to introduce the reading for the following Sunday, for it tells the story of the call of Philip and Nathanael.

Then, for the Sunday we are looking at, the other readings link in with the themes of the Gospel reading:

Jonah is the archetypical reluctant prophet. Earlier, God has called him to “Go at once to Nineveh ... and cry out against it; for their wickedness has come up before me.” But he tried to escape by sailing to the ends of the earth.

And for many people who hear this reading on Sunday week, they will immediately associate Jonah with the fish, which may help make connections with the fishing scene that provides the setting for our Gospel reading.

But God is not going to let go of Jonah; and God now calls him a second time. This time, Jonah obeys, and he goes to Nineveh, the capital of Assyria. But it seems Jonah is easily distracted and happy with half measures. He goes to the city, but after a day he has only got half-way into Nineveh. Even then, God works through Jonah. The people of Nineveh react positively: they believe, they acknowledge their godlessness, and later in this chapter the king repents.

We can see in that story the outward signs of repentance: a change of attitude to others, or turning away from evil and violence; and acknowledging God’s freedom in how God responds to our repentance.

Psalm 62 is a psalm of trust, in which the psalmist invites others to place their trust in God too (verse 8). In God he finds his hope for deliverance, his reference point in life and his “refuge” from his enemies.

In the Epistle reading (I Corinthians 7: 29-31), Paul writes from Ephesus to the Christians of Corinth, calling them to live a life of repentance, for “ the time we live in will not last long,” or that “the present time is passing away.” He reminds us that live between Christ’s first coming and Christ’s second coming, a time in which the Church is called to bring as many as possible to believe in him and to follow his ways. And so, our epistle reading too is an important preparation for hearing the story of the call of Philip and Nathanael, and for being reminded of our own call too.

Fishing boats in the harbour in Skerries, Co Dublin (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2011)

The Gospel reading:

In our Gospel reading, we move from being told of Christ’s temptation in the wilderness to his return to Galilee. His message begins with “the time is fulfilled” (verse 15): the time appointed by God, the decisive time for God’s action, has arrived. “The kingdom of God has come near.”

Mark began his Gospel with “the good news of Jesus the Christ, the Son of God.” Now, in verse 15, we hear what that Good News is: ‘The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news’ (verse 15).

There are four important verbs in this Good News. The first two proclaim deeds that God is doing; the last two call for specific responses from us:

1, “The time is fulfilled”: the meaning here is difficult to convey fully in English because such experiences of time are rare. This is an epoch making time, a defining moment time. A long held dream is about to start taking shape.

2, “has come near” or “is at hand”: this located the Kingdom of God in both time – this defining moment; and in space – at hand. But the verbs also indicate a deed or action that has now begun but is not yet unfinished.

3, to “repent” does not mean to feel badly or guilty. It does mean to change my behaviour, to re-align it with new principles, new beliefs, new understandings, new insights, new objectives, new goals and new values. The feelings that accompany repentance can range from sorrow over past deeds, to joy for new options; from anger over past false hopes, to confidence in now finding firm ground.

4, “Believe in the good news" could also be translated as “Trust into the Good News.” This is not a call in believe in terms of having an opinion about the factual accuracy of Good News. Instead, Christ is calling for a radical, total, unqualified response in which I base my life no matter what the risks may be.

Now we too are called to adopt God’s way, to “believe in the good news” we hear about the very beginning of the Gospel. It could be said that the whole of Saint Mark’s Gospel is a working out of the meaning and implication of verse.

In verses 16-20, the first four disciples are called: they immediately leave their previous occupations, and follow Christ. Once again, we might note how immediacy of response is a mark of this gospel. These disciples owned nets (verse 19), and they had employees (“hired men”, verse 20), so they were people of rank. They gave up security and family to follow Christ and to devote themselves to his mission.

Did you notice too how one of the first things Christ does is to recruit followers. We could say that proclaiming the Good News and that the Kingdom of God is near, is not a one-man show. Instead, it involves building up communities, and creating relationships that embody the Good News.

Fishing was carried out at night so that the freshly caught fish could be sold as soon as possible in the morning. So, being out at night – and smelling of fish – made fishing a disreputable occupation.

Christ sees Simon and Andrew at night, or just before dawn, as they are actively fishing. He then sees James and John after dawn – they have finished their night’s work and are in their boat, mending their nets.

How do you think it must have appeared in those days that Christ was out alone at night and that the first four people he calls are engaged in a dirty and demanding occupation, and that all four leave their families to follow him?

Their friends and neighbours must have reacted with alarm and suspicion, and probably talked about how their response was breaking up their families and breaking down the social fabric of their community.

Are you finding your calling to follow Christ difficult when it comes to family relationships and maintaining your relationship with your community, with those you work with or those who are your neighbours?

Sometimes, like Jonah, do you feel like taking another journey, or just going half-way?

I do not know which was a more difficult and demanding task: being a fisherman on the Sea of Galilee, or being a Disciple of Christ … especially when the call comes from someone who has withdrawn to Galilee after the arrest of his cousin, the one who publicly baptised and acclaimed him, John the Baptist.

Either way, the four first disciples were going to have no lazy day by the shore or the river bank, or as followers of Christ. Becoming “fishers of men,” “fishing for people,” is going to bring these Galilean fishers into a relationship not only with Jesus, with their families, with their neighbours, with the tax collectors, with Pharisees, Sadducees and Zealots, with the powers of this world, with Gentiles, with the people who sat in darkness and in the region of the shadow of death.

Sometimes, in ordained ministry, we do not cast our nets far enough or deep enough. No wonder then that most of the time, when we pull in those nets, we find them empty.

There is a saying that fish come in three sizes, small ones, medium ones and the ones that got away. Too often in ordained ministry, we know about the small ones, we are good with the medium ones, but we pay little attention to going after the ones that get away.

Many years ago, while I hitchhiking and youth-hostelling in peaks on the borders of Staffordshire and Derbyshire in my late teens, and staying in Ilam Hall, I came across the work of that great Anglican writer, Izaak Walton (1593-1683), known not only for his biographies of John Donne, George Herbert and Richard Hooker, but also known as the author of The Compleat Angler.

In The Compleat Angler, Izaak Walton points out that fishing can teach us patience and discipline. Fishing takes practice, preparation, discipline; like discipleship, it has to be learned, and learning requires practice before there are any results. And sometimes, whether it is fishing in a river or fishing in the sea, the best results can come from going against the current.

Walking along the pier in a small Greek fishing village recently, as I watched the careful early morning work of the crews in the trawlers and fishing boats, I realised good fishing does not come about by accident. It also requires paying attention to the nets, moving them carefully, mending them, cleaning them after each and every use, hanging them out to dry.

And fishing is also about noticing the weather, watching the wind and the clouds. Good fishing takes account of contexts … it is incarnational.

And all of these apply to the work of ordained ministry.

Time and again in Gospels, the Kingdom of God is compared to huge net cast over different numbers of people and species. We are the ones called to cast that net, but do so we need to attend to our own discipline, endurance, and patience.

Ordained ministry is not passive following of Christ. We cannot hang any sign outside on our office doors saying: “Gone Fishin’.”

Nor can we passively stand by the bank or on the shore, content with two sizes of fish. We are called to go after the one that others let get away, not just those who come to Church regularly, but their families, their neighbours, the tax collectors, the Pharisees, Sadducees and Zealots of our age, the powers of this world, the Gentiles, and especially with the people who sit in darkness and in the region of the shadow of death.

Canon Patrick Comerford is Lecturer in Anglicanism and Liturgy, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute. This essay is based on notes prepared for a Bible study in a tutorial group with part-time MTh students on 14 January 2012.

Trying to inspire infectious enthusiasm

2012-01-13T15:30:00.003Z

The call of Philip and Nathanael … a modern icon

Patrick Comerford

The lectionary readings for Sunday next [15 January 2012], the Second Sunday after the Epiphany, are: I Samuel 3: 1-10; Psalm 139: 1-5, 12-18; Revelation 5: 1-10; John 1: 43-51.

In a theological college, it might have been easier for our reflection this afternoon to opt for the Old Testament reading and the story of the call of Samuel.

Or perhaps, the Psalm, which opens with those words: “O Lord, you have searched me out and known me” (Psalm 139: 1).

Or perhaps, the New Testament reading, where we are reminded that Christ, the Lamb on the Throne, has made us “to be a kingdom and priests serving our God” (Revelation 5: 10), preparing the world for the Kingdom of God, inviting the world into the Kingdom of God.

Instead, for our reflection this afternoon, I have chosen the Gospel reading, John 1: 43-51:

43 Τῇ ἐπαύριον ἠθέλησεν ἐξελθεῖν εἰς τὴν Γαλιλαίαν, καὶ εὑρίσκει Φίλιππον. καὶ λέγει αὐτῷ ὁ Ἰησοῦς, Ἀκολούθει μοι. 44 ἦν δὲ ὁ Φίλιππος ἀπὸ Βηθσαϊδά, ἐκ τῆς πόλεως Ἀνδρέου καὶ Πέτρου. 45 εὑρίσκει Φίλιππος τὸν Ναθαναὴλ καὶ λέγει αὐτῷ, Ὃν ἔγραψεν Μωϋσῆς ἐν τῷ νόμῳ καὶ οἱ προφῆται εὑρήκαμεν, Ἰησοῦν υἱὸν τοῦ Ἰωσὴφ τὸν ἀπὸ Ναζαρέτ. 46 καὶ εἶπεν αὐτῷ Ναθαναήλ, Ἐκ Ναζαρὲτ δύναταί τι ἀγαθὸν εἶναι; λέγει αὐτῷ (ὁ) Φίλιππος, Ἔρχου καὶ ἴδε. 47 εἶδεν ὁ Ἰησοῦς τὸν Ναθαναὴλ ἐρχόμενον πρὸς αὐτὸν καὶ λέγει περὶ αὐτοῦ, Ἴδε ἀληθῶς Ἰσραηλίτης ἐν ᾧ δόλος οὐκ ἔστιν. 48 λέγει αὐτῷ Ναθαναήλ, Πόθεν με γινώσκεις; ἀπεκρίθη Ἰησοῦς καὶ εἶπεν αὐτῷ, Πρὸ τοῦ σε Φίλιππον φωνῆσαι ὄντα ὑπὸ τὴν συκῆν εἶδόν σε. 49ἀπεκρίθη αὐτῷ Ναθαναήλ, Ῥαββί, σὺ εἶ ὁ υἱὸς τοῦ θεοῦ, σὺ βασιλεὺς εἶ τοῦ Ἰσραήλ. 50 ἀπεκρίθη Ἰησοῦς καὶ εἶπεν αὐτῷ, Οτι εἶπόν σοι ὅτι εἶδόν σε ὑποκάτω τῆς συκῆς πιστεύεις; μείζω τούτων ὄψῃ. 51 καὶ λέγει αὐτῷ, Ἀμὴν ἀμὴν λέγω ὑμῖν, ὄψεσθε τὸν οὐρανὸν ἀνεῳγότα καὶ τοὺς ἀγγέλους τοῦ θεοῦ ἀναβαίνοντας καὶ καταβαίνοντας ἐπὶ τὸν υἱὸν τοῦ ἀνθρώπου.

43 The next day Jesus decided to go to Galilee. He found Philip and said to him, ‘Follow me.’ 44 Now Philip was from Bethsaida, the city of Andrew and Peter. 45 Philip found Nathanael and said to him, ‘We have found him about whom Moses in the law and also the prophets wrote, Jesus son of Joseph from Nazareth.’ 46 Nathanael said to him, ‘Can anything good come out of Nazareth?’ Philip said to him, ‘Come and see.’ 47 When Jesus saw Nathanael coming towards him, he said of him, ‘Here is truly an Israelite in whom there is no deceit!’ 48 Nathanael asked him, ‘Where did you come to know me?’ Jesus answered, ‘I saw you under the fig tree before Philip called you.’ 49 Nathanael replied, ‘Rabbi, you are the Son of God! You are the King of Israel!’ 50 Jesus answered, ‘Do you believe because I told you that I saw you under the fig tree? You will see greater things than these.’ 51 And he said to him, ‘Very truly, I tell you, you will see heaven opened and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of Man.’

I suppose these are very appropriate readings for the beginning of a new semester, and for what is going to be a very busy week for us at the Church of Ireland Theological Institute: we have the part-time MTh students back this weekend, we have all three years back on Monday morning, and doubtless there is going to be a lot to share and listen to as the Year III students go through with us and with each other what we call the “curacy round.”

Some of the students have been asked to be seen by rectors of parishes they never even considered going to. Others will find that having been interviewed by the rector, a parish they once thought very attractive and appealing is one they now no longer want to consider.

And when the placements are finally agreed, some rectors and students will be disappointed, and some will be surprised.

Most of the students have spent three years training for ordained ministry. But they know the call to ministry came many, many years before that.

Despite choices and preferences, the Year III students are sharing the same anxieties at the moment: there are dissertations to complete, they are leaving a place that for some has been like home for almost three years, they are leaving the old family homes they have lived in, they are starting a new job, moving to a new house and to a new town. Any one of these changes is stressful in itself.

Some of them must have been stressed-out for the past few weeks. Some of them may have surprised the interviewing rectors who met them. And some will be surprised by the offers they receive in the coming weeks, where they are called to serve Christ in his Church.

God’s call comes to a variety of people, and in surprising ways.

The Gospel reading on Sunday morning is the story of the call of Philip and Nathanael, and it comes immediately after the story of the call of Andrew and Peter.

Andrew and Peter are brothers but their names indicate the early differences and divisions in the Church. Andrew’s name is Greek ('Ανδρέας, Andreas), meaning “manly” or “valorous,” while Peter’s original name, Simon (שמעון‎, Shimon, meaning “hearing”) is so obviously Jewish.

And the same again with Philip and Nathanael: Philip is a strong Greek name – everyone in the region knew Philip of Macedon was the father of Alexander the Great; while Nathanael’s name is a Hebrew compound meaning “the Gift of God.”

So, from the very beginning of the story of the call of the disciples, the diversity and divisions with the Church are represented, even in the names that show they are Jews and Greeks, the Hebrew-speakers and those who are culturally Hellenised.

In reacting to those false divisions in the early Church, the Apostle Paul tells us: “There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus.”

The ordained ministry of the Church should reflect the diversity of skills and talents and personalities that God has given to the Church as gift and blessing. The call to ordained ministry that has come to a very diverse group of students in many ways reflects how the call came to the first disciples as a diverse group of people, from a wide variety of backgrounds, often – as with Philip and Nathanael – when they were least expecting it.

But they responded to that call faithfully. Andrew went and fetched Simon Peter. Philip found Nathanael.

It has been a challenging few weeks for those students. But Sunday’s Gospel reading also offers us, as staff members, a few challenges too:

How do we help students to keep that call to follow Christ so fresh in their minds that it still inspires infectious enthusiasm in them after their three years here?

How do inspire them with enough infectious enthusiasm to want to go back like Andrew to call Peter, to go back like Philip and Nathanael?

How do we encourage them not to be afraid of questions from others who may turn out to be like Nathanael?

How do we encourage them to move beyond the tolerance of diversity to the respect for diversity and then on to the point of speaking up for diversity as a gift in the Church, so that truly, as the Apostle Paul tells us: “There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus.”

Let us pray in the words of the Collect of the Day for Sunday next:

Almighty God,
in Christ you make all things new:
Transform the poverty of our nature
by the riches of your grace,
and in the renewal of our lives
make known your heavenly glory;
through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Concluding Prayer:

In the words of the Post-Communion Prayer for Sunday next:

God of glory,
you nourish us with bread from heaven.
Fill us with your Holy Spirit
that through us the light of your glory
may shine in all the world.
We ask this in the name of Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Canon Patrick Comerford is Lecturer in Anglicanism and Liturgy, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute. This reflection was shared at the opening of a faculty meeting on 13 January 2012.