The Execution of Saint John the Baptist … an early 18th century icon from the Monastery of Saint John the Theologian in Anopolis, in the Museum of Christian Art in the Church of Saint Catherine of Sinai in Iraklion in Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Patrick Comerford
Sunday next, 11 July 2021, is the Sixth Sunday after Trinity Trinity VI).
The appointed readings in the Revised Common Lectionary for Sunday, as adapted for use in the Church of Ireland, are:
The Continuous readings: II Samuel 6: 1-5, 12b-19; Psalm 24; Ephesians 1: 3-14; Mark 6: 14-29.
The Paired readings: Amos 7: 7-15; Psalm 85: 8-13; Ephesians 1: 3-14; Mark 6: 14-29.
There is a link to the two sets of readings HERE.
Inside the chapel of Saint John’s Hospital, Lichfield (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Introducing the Readings:
It is less than two weeks since we commemorated the Birth of Saint John the Baptist (24 June 2021). Now, on Sunday text, the Gospel reading recalls the execution of Saint the Baptist.
Two of my own places for regular pilgrimage, retreat and renewal are the Chapel of the Hospital of Saint John the Baptist in Lichfield, where I had my first adult experience of being filled with the light and love of God, and where I was invited to preach some years ago (2015) at the Festal Eucharist on the Feast of the Birth of Saint John the Baptist; and the Monastery of Saint John the Baptist in Tollenshunt Knights, which I tried to visit once a year when I am on study leave in Cambridge.
In the first reading next Sunday (II Samuel 6: 1-5, 12b-19), David sets out on a pilgrimage to bring the Ark of the Covenant to Mount Zion, to Jerusalem. But it is not a journey without cost. Seeing David’s behaviour, his wife Michal despises and loathes him in her heart (verse 16).
In the Gospel reading (Mark 6: 14-29), we are caught in an in-between time.
At one bookend, we have the previous Sunday’s reading, when Christ is faced with rejection when he returns home to Nazareth and when he warns the disciples that they too face rejection in their ministry and mission.
The other bookend is an episode later in this chapter (30-32), when Christ calls his disciples together to go with him to a deserted place and to rest for a while.
Pilgrimage and retreat are not necessarily about spiritual comfort and solace. Sometimes, they are about preparing to face the truth, to face the world as it really is.
Sunday’s Gospel story is full of stark, cruel, violent reality. To achieve this dramatic effect, it is told with recall, or with the use of the devise modern movie-makers call ‘back story.’
Cruel Herod has already executed Saint John the Baptist – long ago. Now he hears about the miracles and signs being worked by Jesus and his disciples.
Some people think he is Saint John the Baptist, even though John has been executed. Others think Jesus is Elijah – and popular belief at the time expected Elijah to return at Judgment Day (Malachi 4: 5).
On the other hand, Herod, the deranged Herod who has already had John beheaded, wonders whether John is back again. And we are presented with a flashback to the story of Saint John the Baptist, how he was executed in a moment of passion, how Herod grieved, and how John was buried.
At this point, the story reminds us of the cost of discipleship, and prepares us for the accounts later in this Gospel of the arrest of Jesus, his trial, including being brought before Herod, his execution, and his burial.
Saint John the Baptist remains a key figure for all traditions in the Middle East and beyond. In the Eastern Orthodox Church, he is the last of the prophets, providing the bridge between the Old Testament and the New Testament.
Several places claim they have the severed head of Saint John the Baptist, and have become centres of pilgrimage, including a church in Rome, in the past two churches in England, the Monastery of Saint Macarius in Wadi Natrun in the Western Desert in Egypt, and the Umayyad Mosque in Damascus.
When the late Pope John Paul II took off his shoes and prayed at the shrine of Saint John the Baptist in the Umayyad Mosque on a pilgrimage to Damascus ten years ago (2001), he sent out a clear message that Christians and Muslims can work together and can find more that unites us than divides us.
I have also visited the Monastery of Saint Macarius in the Western Desert. Each day, in normal, non-pandemic times, this monastery receives large numbers of Egyptian and foreign visitors, sometimes as many as 1,000 a day, both Christian and Muslim. Despite the upheavals and violence in Egypt in recent years, this monastery is playing a significant role in the spiritual awakening of the Coptic Church.
The monastery website says: ‘We receive all our visitors, no matter what their religious conviction, with joy, warmth and graciousness, not out of a mistaken optimism, but in genuine and sincere love for each person.’
Going out into the desert to this monastery is not a retreat from the world; it is an invitation to a new commitment to renewal, ecumenism and dialogue.
Those places associated with Saint John the Baptist can be reminders that pilgrimage and retreat are not withdrawals from the world, but are challenges to the ways of the world, particularly at times of injustice and violence.
Those places associated with Saint John the Baptist in the Middle East, including Syria and Egypt, remind us that there is another way. That we are not disciples of Herod, that blood-letting for the sake of power and victimising people of religion is not the way for people of religion who share a vision of peace.
‘David and all the house of Israel were dancing before the Lord with all their might, with songs and lyres and harps and tambourines and castanets and cymbals’ (II Samuel 6: 1-5) … a carving of King David in Saint Botolph without Aldgate Church, London (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2020)
II Samuel 6: 1-5, 12b-19:
With God’s help, David has won battles against the Philistines. But in one of those battles, the Philistines captured the Ark. While the ark was in their hands, the Philistines suffered a plague. They blamed their sufferings on the Ark, and so returned it to Israel.
The Israelites used the wood of the cart the Ark arrived on as fuel for burning an offering, and they moved the Ark to the house of Abinadab in Baale-judah.
Now David and all the people process with the Ark on a new cart, drawn by oxen, towards Jerusalem. The Ark symbolises God’s presence among them, and the cherubim were winged figures guarding the holy object.
The procession is a joyful one, until Uzzah touches the Ark, perhaps to steady it; he has touched a sacred object and he dies. David is angry but afraid of God, and he halts the procession, leaving the Ark with Obed-edom the Gittite.
But David still wishes to make Jerusalem the religious and political capital of his people, and the procession resumes. David now makes a ritual sacrifice to God – at the time, the king could offer a sacrifice, although later only a priest could do so.
When David’s wife Michal, Saul’s daughter, sees David leaping and dancing, she despises him. Perhaps this is because she has no children and knows that Saul’s line will not continue through David (see verse 23). But there are other possible explanations for her negative emotions: she has been torn away from her first husband; she has found she is just one among many wives; David wore only an ephod, so he was almost naked.
The Ark is housed in a tent, as it was during the Exodus. David wishes to erect a permanent house for it, but it is King Solomon who in time builds the first Temple.
‘Israel must go into exile away from this land’ (Amos 7: 11) … a reconstruction of the gates of an Assyrian palace in the Pergamon Museum, Berlin (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Amos 7: 7-15:
The reign of King Jeroboam II (786-746 BCE) was a time of prosperity for Israel, the northern kingdom. But social and religious corruption were rife, many people worshipped materialism and other gods, and a pending invasion was threatened by the neighbouring Assyrian empire.
Amos began life as both a breeder of cattle or sheep, herdsman, and a fruit farmer or dresser of sycamore trees. He was born in Tekoa, which was in sheep country in the hills in northern Judah. He may have owned land in the Jordan valley, where sycamores flourished. Dressing sycamores was a delicate task: Palestinian sycamores bear fruit, much like figs, that has to be dressed or punctured to make it edible.
God calls Amos to leave behind his prosperity, to warn the northern kingdom about impending doom, a result of the waywardness of the rulers and the people.
In the verses before this reading (verses 1-6), God gives Amos two visions of planned devastation: of locusts devouring the crops, and of fire consuming the whole of creation. In both cases, Amos intercedes with God on behalf of the people, pointing out that Israel is weak and helpless spiritually. God listens to Amos and cancels his plans.
Now in this reading, however, in verses 7-9, when Israel is tested like a wall with a plumb line, it fails to measure up. Amos raises no plea against divine judgment this time. God will no longer ignore the errant ways of the people. He will destroy both the high places where they have their mountain-top altars at which early Israel and pagans, worshipped, and their sanctuaries dedicated to him. Through the conquering Assyrians, the house Jeroboam is to come to an end ‘with the sword.’
Bethel was the principal northern shrine to God, and Amaziah was the royal priest there. Amaziah speaks to King Jeroboam, quotes Amos out of context and accuses Amos of upsetting civil order and treason.
King Jeroboam sends Amos into exile, banishing him to Judah. Amos replies that he is not a professional prophet, paid to say what the king wishes to hear, but is called by God.
Later, in the closing verses of this chapter (verses 16-17), we read that because Amaziah has contradicted God’s orders, Israel will be invaded, there will be rape, murder and plunder; Amaziah the priest, keen on remaining ritually clean, ‘shall die in an unclean land’; and Israel shall be exiled to Assyria.
‘Lift up your heads, O gates! and be lifted up, O ancient doors!’ (Psalm 24, 7, 9) … old doors seen through the gates of Cappoquin House, Co Waterford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Psalm 24:
Psalm 24 is a song of joyous procession to the Temple. This psalm reflects an ancient myth that tells of the divine conquest of the unruly forces of chaos, but the psalm becomes a hymn of praise to God the creator, followed by a liturgy on entering the Temple. The opening verses mirror the act of creation. The connection between Creation and the Temple is based on the idea that the Temple was a microcosm of the universe, and its construction a human counterpart to the Divine creation of the cosmos.
With its question-and-answer format, it was probably sung antiphonally, as the Ark was borne to the Temple.
Psalm 24 begins with creation, ‘The earth is the Lord’s and all that is in it’ (verse 1), and moves directly to the moral requirements of religious life: ‘Who shall ascend to the hill of the Lord?’ (verse 3).
Verses 4-6 give the answer: those who are pure, who do not worship false gods, and who do not harm others with false oaths. They will be blessed by God, with prosperity. Just as God created an orderly universe, so we are commanded to create an orderly society. Worshipping God in the Temple is not divorced from honesty and integrity in daily life.
In the second half of this psalm (verses 7-10), the pilgrims identify God in terms traditionally associated with the Ark: he is ‘the King of glory,’ ‘the Lord of hosts,’ the victor and the hero of Israel.
The words ‘Lift up your heads, O gates!’ (verses 7, 9), are said, traditionally, to have been said by King Solomon when the Ark, containing the tablets of the covenant, was first brought into the Temple. The doors are those between the outer court and the sanctuary of the Temple. Perhaps a priest asks: ‘Who is the King of glory?’ (verse 8, 10) from within, and the people answer from the court. God dwells in the sanctuary.
‘Righteousness will go before him, and will make a path for his steps’ (Psalm 85: 13) … a walk in the dark in Marlay Park, Dublin (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2020)
Psalm 85: 8-13:
In the verses before this reading, Psalm 85 tells of God’s restoration of Israel, releasing them from Exile. But times are difficult for the people who have returned to a ravaged land. Verses 4-7 are a prayer that God may again show favour in these present difficulties: ‘restore us again’ (verse 4), ‘revive us’ (verse 6), ‘grant us your salvation’ (verse 7).
Now, in the second half of the psalm (verse 8-13), the psalmist hears God speaking, and promising his blessings.
The people will receive peace (verse 8), ‘salvation is at hand’ (verse 9), and God’s glory will dwell in the land (verse 9).
With God now dwelling among them, the people are promised steadfast love, faithfulness, righteousness and peace (verse 10), four of God’s attributes that become God’s gifts to humanity.
The human response then brings promises of prosperity, fruitfulness and justice in life. Despite these dark times, the people can look forward to a time of justice and peace, poetically expressed in closing verse: ‘Righteousness will go before him, and will make a path for his steps (verse 13).
‘In Christ we also have obtained an inheritance’ (Ephesians 1: 11) … crosses on archaeological remains in the Basilica in Ephesus (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Ephesians 1: 3-14:
This is the first of a series of seven readings from the Letter to the Ephesians, continuing this year until Sunday 22 August.
The Revd Richard Coles is the Vicar of Finedon in the Diocese of Peterborough and with Jimmy Somerville formed the Communards, who had three Top Ten hits in the 1980s. He is an author, the regular host of BBC Radio 4’s Saturday Live, a regular contributor to QI, Would I Lie to You? and Have I Got News for You, and Chancellor of the University of Northampton.
When The Guardian recently [5 June 2021] asked Richard Coles to name the book that changed his life, he replied: ‘St Paul’s Epistle to the Ephesians, or as I described it in my widely unread thesis, not by St Paul, not an epistle, and nothing to do with Ephesus. That said it is one of the most enthralling and challenging explorations of what it means to be a Christian.’
This reading begins immediately after the Apostle Paul’s greeting to his readers in the first two verses.
The opening words, ‘Blessed be …’ (verse 3), echo Jewish and early Christian prayers. Saint Paul reminds the Church in Ephesus that God has brought us, by way of Christ, ‘every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places’ (verse 3), for God had planned for Christ to come to us, so that we would be holy, set apart, living in love, as God’s adopted children and so members of his one family (verse 5), giving praise and glory to God (verse 6).
The word ‘Beloved’ (verse 6) is the meaning of the Hebrew name of David. So, as a description of Christ, this alludest to and affirms the messianic status of Jesus. Its use also recalls his baptism by Saint John the Baptist, when a voice was heard saying ‘You are my Son, the Beloved; with you, I am well pleased’ (see Mark 1: 11).
Through Christ’s life, death and resurrection, we are freed, redeemed, forgiven and receive our spiritual gifts, including wisdom and insight (verses 7-9). We are partners in God’s plan for creation, disclosed in Christ. Christ’s life, death and resurrection (verses 9-10).
In Christ, we have been adopted by God, and we receive an inheritance (verse 11). We are the forerunners of the many who are to set our hope on Christ. Saint Paul tells the Christians he is writing to in Ephesus that, having heard the Gospel and believed in Christ, they have been baptised and became part of the Church, the Body of Christ. The inner presence of the Holy Spirit is a sign of God’s promise being fulfilled in his people (verse 14).
Father Irenaeus, a monk in the Monastery of Saint Macarius in Wadi Natrun, showing the relics of the Prophet Elijah and Saint John the Baptist in the crypt below the church (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Mark 6: 14-29:
Christ’s disciples have gone out, preached repentance, cast out demons, and cured many sick people. But, as people gather around him, the authorities begin to reject him.
Some people think he is Saint John the Baptist, who has come back to life after being beheaded, now working miracles with new power. Others compare Christ’s actions with Elijah, who was taken up to heaven (see II Kings 2: 11), and was expected to return at the end of days (see Malachi 4: 5-6). Still others think he is like the prophets of old. But no-one suggests that he is the Messiah. Even Herod wonders whether Christ is Saint John the Baptist who has returned from the dead, despite having been beheaded.
Saint Mark then returns to the story of the arrest and execution of Saint John the Baptist (verses 17-29). Herod Antipas, Tetrarch of Galilee, arrested John after he denounced Herod for marrying his brother’s wife, which is illegal in Levitical law (see Leviticus 18: 16, 20: 21).
Herodias ‘wanted to kill him’ (verse 19). Even so, Herod was fascinated by John, ‘he liked to listen to him’ (verse 20) and he did not wish his death. The story ends with her deceit and the horrific consequences of her getting her way.
The account of John’s execution anticipates the future facing Christ and some of the disciples, and Christ’s own burial (see Mark 15: 45-47), while the very notion that John might be raised from the dead, despite his execution, anticipates Christ’s resurrection.
A fresco of Saint John the Baptist by the icon writer Alexandra Kaouki in a church in Rethymnon
A reflection on the Gospel reading
Did you ever get mistaken for someone else?
Or, do you ever wonder whether the people you work with, or who are your neighbours, really know who you are?
I am thinking of two examples. Anthony Hope Hawkins, son of the Vicar of Saint Bride’s in Fleet Street, was walking home to his father’s vicarage in London one dusky evening when he came face to face with a man who looked like his mirror image.
He wondered what would happen if they swapped places, if this double went back to Saint Bride’s vicarage, while he headed off instead to the suburbs.
Would anyone notice?
It inspired him, under the penname of Anthony Hope, to write his best-selling novel, The Prisoner of Zenda.
The other example I think of is the way I so often hear people expressing a lack of personal confidence, but who are being complimented on some success or achievement, yet put themselves down with sayings such as: ‘If they only knew what I’m really like … if they only knew what I’m truly like …’
What are you truly like?
And would you honestly want to swap your life for someone else’s?
Would you take on all their woes, and angsts and burdens, along with their way of life?
It is a recurring theme for poets, writers and philosophers over the centuries, including John Donne, Izaak Walton, Shelley, Goethe and Dostoyevsky.
Some years ago, it was the dramatic theme in John Boorman’s movie The Tiger’s Tail (2006), in which Brendan Gleeson plays both the main character and his protagonist – is he his doppelgänger, a forerunner warning of doom, destruction and death? Or is he the lost twin brother who envies his achievements and lifestyle?
The doppelgänger was regarded as a harbinger of doom and death.
There is a way in which Saint John the Baptist, Saint John Prodromos or Saint John the Forerunner, is seen as the harbinger of the death of his own cousin, Jesus Christ.
As well as attracting similar followers and having similar messages, did these two cousins, in fact, look so like one another physically?
But Herod had known John the Baptist, he knew him as a righteous and a holy man, and he protected him. Why, he even liked to listen to John.
Do you think Herod was confused about the identities of Christ and of Saint John the Baptist?
Or is Herod so truly deranged that he can believe someone he has executed, whose severed head he has seen, could come back to life in such a short period?
If Herod is that unstable and that mad, he is surely unsuitable for sitting on the throne.
Or is Herod’s reaction merely one of exasperation and exhaustion: ‘Oh no! Not that John, back again!’
If Herod is deranged or exasperated, then his courtiers are confused.
Some of them say Christ is Elijah – not just any old prophet, but the prophet that popular belief held would return at the great Passover, at the end of the days (see Malachi 4: 5).
Others say he is ‘a prophet, like one of the prophets of old’ – the old order is passing away, a new order is being ushered in as part of God’s great plans for humanity and the whole of creation.
Even before John was making way for Christ, God himself has planned for Christ’s followers to become members of his family, to be adopted as his children.
As Saint Paul tells us in the Epistle reading, the fulfilment of this is God’s will and God’s ‘pleasure’ (Ephesians 1: 5) – words similar to that heard after Saint John baptises Christ in the Jordan – when a voice from heaven says: ‘You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased’ (Mark 1: 11).
This plan, which will come to fruition when God’s eternal purposes are completed, is to unite all creation, all ‘heaven’ and ‘earth,’ in Christ.
In this way, we too are forerunners; we who know the wonder of God’s promises are the forerunners of those who will benefit from and be blessed by the completion of God’s eternal purposes, uniting all creation, all ‘heaven’ and ‘earth.’
To be a disciple is to follow a risky calling – or at least it ought to be so.
In the previous passage, Christ has sent out the disciples to preach repentance, to cast out demons, to cure sick people. But they are beginning to realise that the authorities are rejecting Christ.
Now with Herod’s maniacal and capricious way of making decisions, discipleship has become an even more risk-filled commitment.
But Herod’s horrid banquet runs right into the next story in Saint Mark’s Gospel where Christ feeds the 5,000, a sacramental sign of the invitation to all to the heavenly banquet – more than we can imagine can be fed in any human undertaking.
The invitation to Herod’s banquet, for the privileged and the prejudiced, is laden with the smell of death.
The invitation to Christ’s banquet, for the marginalised and the rejected, is laden with the promise of life.
Herod feeds the prejudices of his own family and a closed group of courtiers.
Christ shows that, despite the initial prejudices of the disciples, all are welcome at his banquet.
Herod is in a lavish palace in his city, but is isolated and deserted.
Christ withdraws to an open but deserted place to be alone, but a great crowd follows him.
Herod fears the crowd beyond his palace gates.
Christ rebukes the disciples for wanting to keep the crowds away.
Herod offers his daughter half his kingdom.
Christ offers us all, as God’s children, the fullness of the kingdom of God.
Herod’s daughter asks for John’s head on a platter.
On the mountainside, Christ feeds all, and although at the beginning all we can offer is five loaves and two fish, more than 5,000 are fed – and even then, 12 baskets are left over.
Saint Mark places these two stories, one after the other, so we can see the stark contrasts between two very different banquets.
During these tough times, people ought not to be ashamed if they and their families need food and shelter. Everybody has the right to food and housing.
Our lives are filled with choices.
Herod chooses loyalty to his inner circle and their greed.
Christ tells his disciples to make a choice in favour of those who need food and shelter.
Herod’s banquet leads to destruction and death.
Christ’s banquet is an invitation to building the kingdom and to new life.
But how many of us in our lives would rather be at Herod’s Banquet for the few in the palace that to be with Christ as he feeds the masses in the wilderness?
Who would you invite to the banquet?
And who do you think feels excluded from the banquet?
We may never get the chance to be like Herod when it comes to lavish banqueting and decadent partying.
But we have an opportunity to be party to inviting the many to the banquet that really matters.
Do you remember how as dusk was falling in the wilderness and the disciples saw the crowd were hungry? And they said to Jesus: ‘the hour is now very late; send them away so that they may go into the surrounding country and villages and buy something for themselves to eat’ (Mark 6: 35-36).
Are we in danger of confusing Herod, the harbinger of doom and death, with Christ, who comes that we may have life and have it to the full?
Who feels turned away from the banquet by the Church today, abandoned and left to fend for themselves?
Saint John the Baptist with Patriarchs and Apostles in a stained glass window in Truro Cathedral … from left: Noah with the Ark; Moses with the Ten Commandments; Saint John the Baptist; Saint Peter with the keys; and Saint Philip the Deacon with a pilgrim's shell also used for baptism (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Mark 6: 14-29 (NRSVA):
14 King Herod heard of it, for Jesus’ name had become known. Some were saying, ‘John the baptizer has been raised from the dead; and for this reason these powers are at work in him.’ 15 But others said, ‘It is Elijah.’ And others said, ‘It is a prophet, like one of the prophets of old.’ 16 But when Herod heard of it, he said, ‘John, whom I beheaded, has been raised.’
17 For Herod himself had sent men who arrested John, bound him, and put him in prison on account of Herodias, his brother Philip’s wife, because Herod had married her. 18 For John had been telling Herod, ‘It is not lawful for you to have your brother’s wife.’ 19 And Herodias had a grudge against him, and wanted to kill him. But she could not, 20 for Herod feared John, knowing that he was a righteous and holy man, and he protected him. When he heard him, he was greatly perplexed; and yet he liked to listen to him. 21 But an opportunity came when Herod on his birthday gave a banquet for his courtiers and officers and for the leaders of Galilee. 22 When his daughter Herodias came in and danced, she pleased Herod and his guests; and the king said to the girl, ‘Ask me for whatever you wish, and I will give it.’ 23 And he solemnly swore to her, ‘Whatever you ask me, I will give you, even half of my kingdom.’ 24 She went out and said to her mother, ‘What should I ask for?’ She replied, ‘The head of John the baptizer.’ 25 Immediately she rushed back to the king and requested, ‘I want you to give me at once the head of John the Baptist on a platter.’ 26 The king was deeply grieved; yet out of regard for his oaths and for the guests, he did not want to refuse her. 27 Immediately the king sent a soldier of the guard with orders to bring John’s head. He went and beheaded him in the prison, 28 brought his head on a platter, and gave it to the girl. Then the girl gave it to her mother. 29 When his disciples heard about it, they came and took his body, and laid it in a tomb.
Saint John the Baptist and the Virgin Mary … a scene in the chancel of Saint Bartholomew’s Church, Ballsbridge, Dublin (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Liturgical Resources:
Liturgical Colour: Green
The Collect:
Merciful God,
you have prepared for those who love you
such good things as pass our understanding:
Pour into our hearts such love toward you
that we, loving you above all things,
may obtain your promises,
which exceed all that we can desire;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Collect of the Word:
Generous God,
we thank you that, by your grace,
you have made your Son known to us,
and have adopted us as your children,
marking us with the seal of your Spirit.
Help us to praise you with all our might
and to bless others in all our deeds
through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Post-Communion Prayer:
God of our pilgrimage,
you have led us to the living water.
Refresh and sustain us
as we go forward on our journey,
in the name of Jesus Christ our Lord.
The fifth century mosaic of the Baptism of Christ by Saint John the Baptist in the Neonian Baptistry in Ravenna (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Suggested Hymns:
II Samuel 6: 1–5, 12b-19:
529, Thy hand, O God, has guided
Psalm 24:
48, God in his love for us lent us this planet
266, Hail the day that sees him rise
337, Lift up your heads, O ye gates
131, Lift up your heads, you mighty gates
134, Make way, make way for Christ the King
284, The golden gates are lifted up
Amos 7: 7-15:
381, God has spoken – by his prophets
Psalm 85: 8-13:
695, God of mercy, God of grace
539, Rejoice, O land, in God thy might
140, The Lord will come and not be slow
Ephesians 1: 3-14:
84, Alleluia! raise the anthem
189, As with gladness men of old
318, Father, Lord of all creation
352, Give thanks with a grateful heart
99, Jesus, the name high over all
652, Lead us, heavenly Father, lead us
524, May the grace of Christ our Saviour
363, O Lord of heaven and earth and sea
313, The Spirit came as promised
9, There’s a wideness in God’s mercy
373, To God be the glory! Great things he has done!
451, We come as guests invited
Mark 6: 14-29:
460, For all your saints in glory, for all your saints at rest
In addition, Hymn 471 (Rejoice in God’s saints) may be suitable.
Herod’s daughter dances for the head of Saint John the Baptist … a fresco in the Church of Analipsi in Georgioupoli, Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible: Anglicised Edition copyright © 1989, 1995, National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide. http://nrsvbibles.org
The hymn suggestions are provided in Sing to the Word (2000), edited by Bishop Edward Darling. The hymn numbers refer to the Church of Ireland’s Church Hymnal (5th edition, Oxford: OUP, 2000)
Material from the Book of Common Prayer is copyright © 2004, Representative Body of the Church of Ireland.
The beheading of Saint John the Baptist … a fresco in the Church of Analipsi in Georgioupoli, Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
No comments:
Post a Comment