Monday, 7 June 2021

Readings, hymns and
sermon ideas for
Sunday 13 June 2021,
Second Sunday after Trinity

The Sower and the Seed … an image in the East Window in Holy Trinity Church, Rathkeale, Co Limerick (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2021)

Patrick Comerford

Sunday next, 13 June 2021, is the Second Sunday after Trinity (Trinity II). The appointed readings for Sunday in the Revised Common Lectionary, as adapted for use in the Church of Ireland, are:

The Continuous Readings: I Samuel 15: 34 to 16: 13, Psalm 20; II Corinthians 5: 6-10 (11-13), 14-17; and Mark 4: 26-34.

The Paired Readings: Ezekiel 17: 22-24; Psalm 92: 1-4, 12-15; II Corinthians 5: 6-10 (11-13), 14-17; and Mark 4: 26-34.

There is a link to the readings HERE.

The readings and other resources are found in Proper 6 for Year B, when the Sunday between 12 and 18 June falls after Trinity Sunday.

This posting provides commentaries on each reading, an idea for a sermon based on the Gospel reading, the propers, suggested hymns and other litirgical resources.

‘The earth produces of itself’ (Mark 4: 28) … summer flowers in the gardens at Kells Bay House near Cahersiveeen, Co Kerry (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2021)

Introducing the Readings:

Like a sower scattering seed, I sometimes think of God sowing seeds in the minds of many people, that eventually grow into the full bloom.

In the Gospel reading (Mark 4: 26-34), Christ tells two parables: the first is the story of how seed that is scattered on the ground sprouts, grows and produces full grain at harvest time; the second is the story of how the mustard seed, the smallest of all seeds, grows into the greatest of all shrubs.

It is an unfortunate fact of life that people who set out to be high achievers regret that over the span of a career they have never blossomed into great trees. Instead, they think that in the sight of other people they have remained small twigs or leaves on the tree, and that when they die, like a falling leaf, they will be forgotten and be of no further value to others.

Yet, when death is at our doorstep, none of us is going to be worried about the obituary pages or whether we will be judged by our achievements.

When he was interviewed on RTÉ three years ago [29 May 2018] by Ray Darcy, the late Gay Byrne spoke of his achievements and regrets over a long career that spanned 60 years. He admitted candidly that his biggest regrets were having worked too hard and given too much time to RTÉ when he could have spent more time with his children as they were growing up.

Bronnie Ware, an Australian nurse, has worked for several years in palliative care, caring for patients in the last 12 weeks of their lives. She has counselled the dying in their last days and has tried to find out what are the most common regrets we have at the end of our lives.

Among the top, from men in particular, is: ‘I wish I hadn’t worked so hard.’

Despite what the Poet Laureate Sir John Betjeman once said about end-of-life regrets, there was no mention of more sex. Nor was there any mention of media profiles or better job titles.

In her best-selling book, The Top Five Regrets of the Dying, which has been read by over a million people worldwide and translated into 29 languages, Bronnie Ware lists the top five regrets we have when we are dying:

1, I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.

2, I wish I hadn’t worked so hard.

3, I wish I’d had the courage to express my feelings.

4, I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends.

5, I wish that I had let myself be happier.

What is your greatest regret in life, so far?

And what will you set out to achieve or change before you die?

Our intrinsic, individual value does not depend on how useful we were to the projects of others. It is seen, instead, when we were truly ourselves, when we spend time with those we love and those who love us, when we were in touch with our feelings, when we valued our friendships, when we were happy rather than ambitious.

We are blessed when we come to the point of realising that love is more important than ambition, when we know friendships are more important than careers, when we know we are blessed by others not because of what they do, but simply because they are.

And when we love, when we can cry together, then we can laugh together too.

John Betjeman was a press attaché in Dublin during World War II. He was immensely popular during his time in Dublin, learning the Irish language, socialising in pubs, and becoming friends with many of Dublin’s journalists and literary figures. When his official stay in Dublin came to an end in 1943, his departure made one of those great stories on the front page of The Irish Times.

In one of his less well-known poems, ‘The Last Laugh,’ included in his 1974 collection, A Nip in the Air, John Betjeman wrote:

I made hay while the sun shone.
My work sold.
Now, if the harvest is over
And the world cold,
Give me the bonus of laughter
As I lose hold.


When we recall friends and family members who have lost their hold on life, do we allow ourselves to put aside their regrets and our regrets in life?

As part of the great tree of life, whether they were tiny twigs, small leaves, little branches or great big trunks, we can remember them with the bonus of laughter and with the bonus of love. For without them, we would not be who we are today.

King David (left) and King Solomon (right) in a window by Heaton, Butler and Bayne in Saint Michael’s Church, Limerick (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

I Samuel 15: 34 to 16: 13:

In this first reading, we are told how David had been chosen and called by God long before he was anointed by Samuel. But God also calls a wonderful and diverse group of people to serve his Church and his world.

David may have been God’s choice, but he was not a natural first choice. Samuel’s instinct was to anoint Jesse’s son Eliab, who seems to have been tall and handsome (see 16: 7) and who was the classical insider.

In all, seven of Jesse’s sons are brought before Samuel, including Abinadab and Shammah. But David was in danger of being overlooked. Despite having beautiful eyes, he was small and ruddy, the youngest son and the outsider, out watching the sheep (verses 11-12).

The decision-making process is not about what Samuel thinks is right, nor is it about what Jesse wants for his sons. Rather, it is about listening carefully and patiently to what God wants in God’s own time.

Of course, later on, David’s life was far from perfect, morally or politically, in his family or in society. But, for all these failures, David tried to live well because of his enduring and steadfast love for God.

‘I will plant it, in order that it may produce boughs and bear fruit, and become a noble cedar’ (Ezekiel 17: 23) … a young girl with a violin and her friend beneath a cedar tree at Curraghchase (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2020)

Ezekiel 17: 22-24:

These verses provide a messianic prophecy that God will provide the Messiah from the royal line of David (the highest cedar) and establish him in his kingdom like a mountain. He will be a high branch’ reigning in the height of success. ‘Branch’ is a Messianic title. The Messiah will be ‘a tender one’ growing into ‘a noble cedar.’ Through his kingdom rule, all the nations will flourish.

The Messiah is truly the highest branch and the true heir of David. The ‘high and lofty mountain’ is the holy hill of God, Mount Zion. The boughs and the fruit speak of his followers.

This messianic allegory is presented with the reference to the branch also found in Isaiah 11: 1, Jeremiah 23: 5-6, and Zechariah 3: 8, which grows to be ‘a majestic cedar.’ One of the main references to this verse in the Gospels is the Parable of the Mustard Seed in part of this Sunday’s Gospel reading (see Mark 4: 30-32).

‘Some take pride in chariots, and some in horses, but our pride is in the name of the Lord our God’ (Psalm 20: 7) … part of the Parthenon frieze in the Acropolis Museum in Athens (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Psalm 20:

There are many words and phrases in this psalm that at first glance suggest a great conviction that the Lord will grant whatever we wish, as long as we have enough faith. But this is, at the very least, an over-simplification.

Several of the verses in Psalm 20 start with the word ‘may’ (see verses 2, 3, 4, 5a, 5b in the NRSV and NRSVA translations; verses 1, 5a and 5b in the Book of Common Prayer Psalter, pp 612-613).

This may suggest that what follows is not guaranteed to come to pass, but we are also asked to consider whether what we desire is the same as what God desires. God knows better than us what we need and what we want.

At the same time, God is our loving father we should not be afraid to ask for things. Verses 6, 7 and 8 are perhaps a good illustration of this point: if the Lord will help or save his anointed (verse 6), then as God’s children we can be sure God will help us.

‘It is good to give thanks to the Lord … to the music of the lute and the harp, to the melody of the lyre’ (Psalm 92: 1-3) … lutes in a music shop in Rethymnon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Psalm 92: 1-4, 12-15:

Psalm 92, known in Hebrew as Mizmor Shir L’yom HaShabbat, is dedicated to the Shabbat day. Although it can be recited any day, in Jewish tradition it is generally reserved for Shabbat and is also recited during the morning services on festival days.

According to a story in the Midrash, Psalm 92 was said by Adam, who was created on Friday and said this psalm at the onset of the Shabbat. It is not a psalm that speaks about the Shabbat, but one that was said on the Shabbat: this was Adam’s first day of existence and he marvelled at the work of the Creator.

The Requiem Ebraico (Hebrew Requiem) (1945), by the Austrian-American composer Eric Zeisl (1905-1959) is his setting in 1945 of Psalm 92. It is dedicated to the memory of the composer’s father ‘and the other countless victims of the Jewish tragedy in Europe.’ The premiere of the Requiem Ebraico was performed in the Hollywood First Methodist Church, Los Angeles, on 8 April 1945, with Hugo Strelitzer conducting the Fairfax Temple Choir. It is often regarded as the first major work of Holocaust commemoration.

Psalm 92 is connected with a story about the legend of the Golem in Prague in the 16th century. Rabbi Judah Loew ben Bezalel is said to have been endowed with supernatural gifts. He brought together the four elements of fire, water, air and earth to bring to life to the Golem, a sculpture moulded from the mud of the riverbed. The Golem grew stronger and stronger, however, and instead of heroic deeds, he became uncontrollable and destructive. Rabbi Loew was promised that anti-Semitic violence would end in Prague once he destroyed the Golem.

One day, the Golem was found uprooting trees and destroying the rabbi’s home while the rabbi was in the synagogue singing Psalm 92. The rabbi rushed out to remove the tablet from the Golem’s mouth. Fearing the Golem could fall into the wrong hands, Rabbi Loew smeared clay on the Golem’s forehead, turning emet into met, so that the Hebrew word for truth became the Hebrew word for death and life was taken out of the giant’s body.

Rabbi Loew put him to rest in the attic of the Old-New Synagogue. The rabbi then returned and continued to sing Psalm 92 … and so, it is said, the Old-New Synagogue in Prague is the only place in the world where this psalm is sung twice.

‘Everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new!’ (II Corinthians 5: 17) … the old reflected in the new on a corner of South Great George’s Street, Dublin (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

II Corinthians 5: 6-10 (11-13), 14-17:

‘Everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new!’ (verse 17).

If the primary concern of the first readings is to emphasise the limitations of the perception of fallen humanity on the one hand and the limitless possibilities for God on the other, it seems that Saint Paul wishes to address what this means in the life of Christians.

Of course, Saint Paul does so within the context of the life, death and resurrection of Christ (verse 14-15), the central truth and mystery of the Christian faith. Given that we can never understand everything, to say that ‘we walk by faith, not by sight’ (verse 7) does not mean that our faith is blind or that our faith should be completely divorced from reason and reality.

But we must recognise our limitations and our shortcomings and be willing to move beyond them in faith. Direct, historic, human knowledge and experience tells us something about the figure of Christ, and that gives us a foundation on which faith by grace can grow.

‘The seed would sprout and grow’ (Mark 4: 27) … trees and a shaded garden in Platanias in suburban Rethymnon, Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Mark 4: 26-34:

Chapter 4 in Saint Mark’s Gospel is the ‘parables chapter,’ recalling parables that make this chapter the central teaching section of this Gospel. Christ is the a boat beside the sea teaching a very large crowd who are listening on the shore (see Mark 4: 1-2).

In the Gospel reading, Christ tries to describe the ‘kingdom of God’ using images of a sower scattering seed on the ground in the hope and expectation of the harvest (verses 26-29) and of the mustard seed that grows into a great tree (verses 30-32).

In the first parable (verses 26-29), Christ is continuing with the themes in the parable of the sower and the seed which he told earlier in this chapter (see Mark 4: 3-9). The sower is confident, because of practical experience and because of knowledge, that when he is sowing the seed it will produce plants and a crop in due season. But this is not always so: there may be storms, rains or other disasters.

The sower must sow, but the sower must also reap. Yet, beyond this, there are external factors over which the sower has no control. So, there is degree to which the sower’s action is also an act of faith.

In the second parable (verses 30-32), Christ suggests the vastness of the ‘kingdom of God’ and the fact that it grows from seemingly insignificant beginnings.

Great trees, such as cedars, were symbols of empires and great kingdoms (see Ezekiel 17: 22-23; Daniel 4: 20-22). But mustard plants only grew a few feet high.

As in the story of David, God’s work may have small beginnings, or in those we may see as insignificant or overlook.

The final two verses (33-34) refer to Christ’s method of teaching through parables. The wording once again challenges us to be aware of our expectations and the limits of our perceptions.

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

A sermon illustration

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

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

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

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

But on two consecutive afternoons some years ago, I found myself unexpectedly appreciating gardens and growing and growth: on one afternoon I visited the National Botanic Gardens in Dublin; on the second afternoon I found myself admiring the Lavender Field at Avoca in Kilmacanogue, Co Wicklow.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why does God allow particular people or nations to prosper?

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

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

Would this not be a far, far better society?

Would this not be a far, far better Church?

And so on.

At the moment, we are very worried in the Church about attendance figures in the post-lockdown times, and whether those numbers are going to grow again.

I sometimes, just sometimes, wonder whether we are already neglecting our own inheritance, the harvest of the seeds that have already been planted, the promise that was made to past generations.

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

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

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

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

The ‘Sower’ window in Holy Trinity Church, Rathkeale, Co Limerick (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Mark 4: 26-34 (NRSVA):

26 [Jesus] also said, ‘The kingdom of God is as if someone would scatter seed on the ground, 27 and would sleep and rise night and day, and the seed would sprout and grow, he does not know how. 28 The earth produces of itself, first the stalk, then the head, then the full grain in the head. 29 But when the grain is ripe, at once he goes in with his sickle, because the harvest has come.’

30 He also said, ‘With what can we compare the kingdom of God, or what parable will we use for it? 31 It is like a mustard seed, which, when sown upon the ground, is the smallest of all the seeds on earth; 32 yet when it is sown it grows up and becomes the greatest of all shrubs, and puts forth large branches, so that the birds of the air can make nests in its shade.’

33 With many such parables he spoke the word to them, as they were able to hear it; 34 he did not speak to them except in parables, but he explained everything in private to his disciples.

‘The seed would sprout and grow’ (Mark 4: 27) … the garden in the cloisters in Arkadi Monastery in Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Liturgical resources:

Liturgical Colour: Green

The Collect of the Day:

Lord, you have taught us
that all our doings without love are nothing worth:
Send your Holy Spirit
and pour into our hearts that most excellent gift of love,
the true bond of peace and of all virtues,
without which whoever lives is counted dead before you.
Grant this for your only Son Jesus Christ’s sake.

The Collect of the Word:

Almighty God,
without you we are unable to please you:
mercifully grant that your Holy Spirit
may in all things direct and rule our hearts:
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

The Post-Communion Prayer:

Loving Father,
we thank you for feeding us at the supper of your Son.
Sustain us with your Spirit,
that we may serve you here on earth
until our joy is complete in heaven,
and we share in the eternal banquet
with Jesus Christ our Lord.

The Sower and the Seed … an image in the East Window by Mayer & Co in Saint Michael’s Church, Limerick (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Suggested hymns:

I Samuel 15: 34 to 16: 13:

630, Blessed are the pure in heart
125, Hail to the Lord’s anointed
306, O Spirit of the living God
498, What does the Lord require for praise and offering?

Ezekiel 17: 22-24:

311, Fruitful trees, the Spirit’s sowing

Psalm 20:

643, Be thou my vision, O Lord of my heart
659, Onward Christian soldiers
487, Soldiers of Christ arise
488, Stand up, stand up for Jesus
243, The royal banners forward go

Psalm 92: 1-4, 12-15:

668, God is our fortress and our rock
361, Now thank we all our God
76, Sweet is the work, my God and King
36, We thank you, God our Father

II Corinthians 5: 6-10 (11-13), 14-17:

389, All who believe and are baptised
416, Great God, your love has called us here
226, It is a thing most wonderful
672, Light’s abode, celestial Salem
634, Love divine, all loves excelling
229, My God I love thee; not because
528, The Church’s one foundation

Mark 4: 26-34:

378, Almighty God, your word is cast
37, Come, ye thankful people, come
413, Father, we thank thee who hast planted
39, For the fruits of his creation
125, Hail to the Lord’s anointed
385, Rise and hear! The Lord is speaking

‘Don’t judge the day be the harvest you reap but by the seeds that you sow’ … a sign in a café in Greystones, Co Wicklow (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 hymns 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 Victorian glasshouses in the National Botanic Gardens, Glasnevin … a lesson in planting seeds with hope for the future (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Monday, 31 May 2021

Readings, hymns and
sermon ideas for
Sunday 6 June 2021,
First Sunday after Trinity

‘But no one can enter a strong man’s house and plunder his property (Mark 3: 27) … Kilkenny Castle at night (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2020)

Patrick Comerford

Sunday next, 6 June 2021, is the First Sunday After Trinity (Trinity I). The readings in the Revised Common Lectionary, as adapted for use in the Church of Ireland, are:

The Continuous Readings: I Samuel 8: 4-11 [12-15], 16-20 [11: 14-15]; Psalm 138; II Corinthians 4: 13 to 5: 1; Mark 3: 20-35.

The Paired Readings: Genesis 3: 8-15; Psalm 130; II Corinthians 4: 13 to 5: 1; Mark 3: 20-35.

The options should be chosen as pairs, rather than selected at random.

There is a link to the continuous readings HERE.

There is a link to the paired readings HERE.

The readings and other provisions can also be found as Proper 5B, when the Sunday between 5 June and 11 June comes after Trinity Sunday.

We are in Ordinary Time, and while we number the Sundays ‘after Trinity,’ there is no season of Trinity, and this sequence of numbering continues for the next four or five months, until late October. There is no climax, no continuous theme, or no great celebration to make this ‘Ordinary Time’ in any way extraordinary. Instead, the Lectionary encourages us to continue reflecting on the main themes in the Gospel readings.

In Year B, the main themes are in the Gospel according to Saint Mark. However, with the exception of a few Sundays, we interrupted our readings from Saint Mark, drawing on Saint John’s Gospel for many of the Sundays in the seasons of Lent and Easter. We return to Saint Mark’s Gospel next Sunday, when we are invited once again to journey with Christ as he makes his way to Jerusalem.

‘By the ruler of the demons he casts out demons’ (Mark 3: 22) … a gargoyle at Lichfield Cathedral (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Introducing the Readings

I was involved in a number of programmes marking the fiftieth anniversary of the death of TS Eliot in 1965. Eliot is, perhaps, the greatest poet in the English language in the 20th century, and is one of the greatest Anglican literary figures. As well as being a great poet, he was also a playwright, and his plays include Murder in the Cathedral, The Family Reunion and The Cocktail Party.

His play Murder in the Cathedral was first staged in the Chapter House in Canterbury Cathedral on 15 June 1935. This verse drama is based on the events leading to the murder in Canterbury Cathedral of Thomas Becket, Archbishop of Canterbury, on 29 December 1170.

The play was written at the prompting of the Bishop of Chichester, George Bell, a friend of the martyred German theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer, and later one of the key critics of the excesses of violence unleashed in World War II.

The dramatisation in this play of opposition to authority was prophetic at the time, for it was written as fascism was on the rise in Central Europe and Bishop Bell had chosen wisely when he suggested Eliot should write this play.

The play is set in the days leading up to the martyrdom of Thomas Becket at the behest of King Henry II, and the principal focus is on Becket’s internal struggles. As he reflects on the inevitable martyrdom he faces, his tempters arrive, like characters in a Greek drama, or like Job’s comforters, and they question the archbishop about his plight, echoing in many ways Christ’s temptations in the wilderness when he has been fasting for 40 Days.

The first tempter offers Becket the prospect of physical safety:

The easy man lives to eat the best dinners.
Take a friend’s advice. Leave well alone,
Or your goose may be cooked and eaten to the bone.


The second tempter offers him power, riches and fame in serving the king so that he can disarm the powerful and help the poor:

To set down the great, protect the poor,
Beneath the throne of God can man do more?


Then the third tempter suggests the archbishop should form an alliance with the barons and seize a chance to resist the king:

For us, Church favour would be an advantage,
Blessing of Pope powerful protection
In the fight for liberty. You, my Lord,
In being with us, would fight a good stroke
At once, for England and for Rome.


Finally, the fourth tempter urges Thomas to look to the glory of martyrdom:

You hold the keys of heaven and hell.
Power to bind and loose: bind, Thomas, bind,
King and bishop under your heel.


Becket responds to all his tempters and specifically addresses the immoral suggestions of the fourth tempter at the end of the first act:

Now is my way clear, now is the meaning plain:
Temptation shall not come in this kind again.
The last temptation is the greatest treason:
To do the right deed for the wrong reason
.

Saint Mark’s Gospel is very sparse in its account of the story of Christ’s temptations in the wilderness – just two verses (see Mark 1: 12-13), compared to the much fuller 11 or 13 verses in the accounts given by Saint Matthew (see Matthew 4: 1-11) and Saint Luke (see Luke 4: 1-13).

In those fuller temptation narratives, Christ is tempted to do the right things for the wrong reason.

What would be wrong with Christ turning stones into bread (see Matthew 4: 3; Luke 4: 3-4) if that is going to feed the hungry?

What would be wrong with Christ showing his miraculous powers (see Matthew 4: 3; Luke 4: 9), if this is going to point to the majesty of God (see Matthew 4: 4; Luke 4: 10-11)?

What would be wrong with Christ taking command of the kingdoms of this world (see Matthew 4: 9; Luke 4: 5-7), if this provides the opportunity to usher in justice, mercy and peace?

Let us not deceive ourselves, these are real temptations. Christ is truly human and truly divine, and for those who are morally driven there is always a real temptation to do the right thing but to do it for the wrong reason.

In Sunday’s Gospel reading, Christ is challenged in this Gospel reading in two fundamental ways, about his calling those on the margins to come inside and be part of the Kingdom of God. He is challenged about whether his work is the work of God or the work of the Devil (Mark 3: 22), and he is challenged to think about what his family thinks about what he is doing (Mark 3: 32).

‘Appoint for us, then, a king to govern us, like other nations’ (I Samuel 8: 5) … a door-knocker on a front door in Cahir, Co Tipperary (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2020)

I Samuel 8: 4-11 (12-15), 16-20 (11: 14-17):

This theme of temptation and how to respond runs through the Scripture readings for next Sunday.

In the first reading (I Samuel 8: 4-11, [12-15], 16-20 [11: 14-15]), the elders of Israel want a king, and go to Samuel, claiming their motivation is to be ‘like other nations’ (I Samuel 8: 5). But the real reason was a power grab, motivated by a loss of faith in the power of God. Israel is warned that a king would exploit the people and enslave them, but they refused to heed these warnings.

We all know Ireland benefitted in recent years from wanting to be a modern nation, like our neighbours. But that ambition turned to greed, and we were surprise when greed turned to economic collapse. We found we had given in to the temptation to do what appeared to be the right thing for the wrong reason.

Too often when I am offered the opportunity to do the right thing, to make a difference in this society, in this world, I ask: ‘What’s in this for me?’

When I am asked to speak up for those who are marginalised or oppressed, this should be good enough reason in itself. But then I wonder how others are going to react – react not to the marginalised or oppressed, but to me.

How often do we use external sources to hide our own internalised prejudices?

How often have I seen what is the right thing to do, but have found an excuse that I pretend is not of my own making?

I hear people claim they are not racist, but speaking about migrants, immigrants and asylum seekers in language that would shock them if it was used about their own family members in England, America or Australia.

The victims of war in Syria or boat people in the Mediterranean are objects for our pity on the television news. But why are they not being settled with compassion, in proportionate numbers in Ireland?

How often do I think of doing the right thing only if it is going to please my family members or please my neighbours?

How often do I use the Bible to justify not extending civil rights to others? Democracy came to all of us at a great price paid by past generations. But how often do we try to hold on to those rights as if they were personal, earned wealth?

How often we use obscure Bible texts to prop up our political, racist, social and economic prejudices, forgetting that any text in the Bible, however clear or obscure it may be, depends, in Christ’s own words, on the two greatest commandments, to love God and to love one another.

‘Have you eaten from the tree of which I commanded you not to eat?’ (Genesis 3: 11) … apple trees in the gardens of Cappoquin House, Co Waterford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2020)

Genesis 3: 8-15:

This reading is paired with the Gospel reading because it is a story of temptation, and God's response to who we deal with temptors and temptation.

The man and the woman, knowing they have succumbed to temptation, seek to hide from the Lord in the Garden, but realise there is no hiding from God.

We stand naked before God in judgment and in answering for our choices, and there is no shifting the blame, hiding away or clothing our shame.

‘All the kings of the earth shall praise you, O Lord’ (Psalm 138: 4) … a depiction of King Charles I in Saint Mary’s Cathedral, Edinburgh (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Psalm 138:

Psalm 138 thanks God for his steadfast, enduring love and for his care for his faithful followers. When he calls upon God, God not only answers him but gives him a new calling or makes him more confident spiritually: ‘you increased my strength of soul’ (verse 3).

The psalmist then sings a hymn of praise. All the rulers of the earth shall praise God, who cares for the lowly but distances himself from the proud and haughty.

The psalmist’s faith in God is strengthened, and he grows in his trust in God, knowing God’s love endures for ever.

‘De Profundis’ (1943), the haunting Holocaust tour de force by Arthur Szyk (1894-1951), draws on Psalm 130: ‘Out of the depths I cry to you, O Lord’

Psalm 130:

Psalm 130 is known as De Profundis from its opening words in Latin in the Vulgate. The psalm has been set to music by composers such as Franz Lizst, John Rutter and Arvo Pärt; it has inspired a famous work by Oscar Wilde, and poems by Federico García Lorca, Alfred Tennyson, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Charles Baudelaire, Christina Rossetti, CS Lewis, Georg Trakl, Dorothy Parker and José Cardoso Pires.

Psalm 130 is one of the Penitential psalms, recited during the Ten Days of Repentance. It is a prayer for deliverance from personal trouble, but it ends with a message to all people. The first verse is a call to God in deep sorrow, from ‘out of the depths’ (Out of the deep), as it is translated in the Authorised or King James Version of the Bible and in the Book of Common Prayer. The psalm is also known by its Latin incipit, De Profundis.

David’s cry is a cry to God for deliverance from personal trouble, yet it ends with a message of hope for all. God is attentive to our pleas, despite everything that has gone wrong. God forgives, God is merciful, God offers unfailing ‘love,’ freedom from grievous sin.

The psalm opens with a call to God in deep sorrow, from ‘out of the depths’ or ‘out of the deep,’ a graphic phrase signalling closeness to despair or death, used only in one other psalm, Psalm 69. These depths are the chaotic waters, symbolising separation from God, as in Jonah’s prayer from the stomach of the great fish (see Jonah 2: 2). May God be attentive to my pleas.

God forgives, so he shall be revered. The psalmist makes the powerful and paradoxical point that God is to be held in awe not because he punishes but because he forgives. If God were to record all our misdeeds, how could anyone face him? He is merciful by nature, so I eagerly await his help, his word. I wait for him as watchmen guarding a town from enemy attack.

God understands the difficulties created by the relationship between a parent and child, and between a parent who is grieved by the bickering and battling between two children.

God’s love for us surpasses the love of any father or mother for their children.

God’s love is never petulant. God never goes into a corner and sulks.

And God’s bitter weeping and grieving when he sees our plight is expressed most perfectly in the life, death and resurrection of his Son, Jesus Christ.

And Christ understands that so well. He asks in the Sermon on the Mount: ‘Is there anyone among you who, if your child asks for bread, will give a stone?’ (Matthew 7: 9).

This Psalm is a prayer for deliverance from personal trouble, but it ends with a message to all people: wait in hope for God; he offers unfailing love.

Perhaps the psalmist has now received a message for the people:

O Israel, wait for the Lord,
for with the Lord there is mercy;
With him is plenteous redemption
and he shall redeem Israel from all their sins.

God is to be held in awe, not because he punishes but because he forgives.

‘For we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God’ (II Corinthians 5: 1) … preparing for a summer dinner in Portrane, Co Dublin (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

II Corinthians 4: 13 to 5: 1:

In the Epistle reading, the Apostle Paul reminds us that we share the same faith, the same scripture, and the same hope for our shared future.

Saint Paul recalls Psalm 116: 10 in the translation known in his day. The psalmist was suffering greatly and was near death, but he still had faith and so he spoke (II Corinthians 4: 13). Saint Paul compares this with his own situation; he too is afflicted and feels death is near. But he continues to speak about his faith in the Risen Christ and to give praise to God, through God’s grace and love.

In the face of opposition, Saint Paul does not lose heart, but becomes more Christ-like every day. His present sufferings are a ‘slight momentary affliction’ (4: 17), preparing him for eternal life.

‘Then they came for me – and there was no one left to speak for me’ … the cell where Martin Niemöller was held in isolation in Sachsenhausen (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Mark 3: 20-35:

The readings from Saint Mark’s Gospel in Year B have been interrupted in recent weeks with readings from Saint John’s Gospel. Now, on this Sunday, we return to the cycle of readings from Saint Mark’s Gospel.

In this Gospel reading, Christ is challenged in two fundamental ways about his calling those on the margins to come inside and be part of the Kingdom of God.

Christ is challenged about whether his work is the work of God or the work of the Devil (Mark 3: 22).

And Christ is challenged to think about what his family thinks about what he is doing (Mark 3: 32).

It would have been so easy for any one of us to give in under these twin pressures. To give up because of what people think of us, or how our family members might be upset when we do the right thing and there is nothing in it for them or for us – nothing at all except sneers and jeers and isolation.

We can give in so easily … we can convince ourselves that we are doing the right thing when we are doing it for the wrong reason. And when we allow ourselves to be silenced or immobilised, those we should have spoken up for lose a voice, and we lose our own voices, and our own integrity.

A wrong decision taken once, thinking it is doing the right thing, but for the wrong reason, is not just about an action in the present moment. It forms habits and it shapes who we are, within time and eternity.

The Revd Martin Niemöller (1892-1984), a prominent German Lutheran pastor and an outspoken opponent of Hitler, spent the last seven years of Nazi rule in concentration camps. He once said:

First they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out –
Because I was not a socialist.
Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out –
Because I was not a trade unionist.
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out –
Because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for me – and there was no one left to speak for me.


TS Eliot took some of the material that his producer Martin Browne asked him to remove from Murder in the Cathedral and he transformed it into his poem Burnt Norton (1935), the first of his Four Quartets, four poems concerned with the conflict between individual mortality and the endless span of human existence.

In Burnt Norton, TS Eliot tells us that the past and the future are always contained in the present. Past, present, and future cannot be separated with any precision:

Time present and time past
Are both perhaps present in time future
And time future contained in time past.


What we do today or refuse to do today, even if we think it is the right thing to do but we do it for the wrong reasons, reflects how we have formed ourselves habitually in the past, is an image of our inner being in the present, and has consequences for the future we wish to shape.

How is the Church to recover its voices and speak up for the oppressed and the marginalised, not because it is fashionable or politically correct today, but because it is the right thing to do today and for the future?

Surely all our actions must depend on those two great commandments – to love God and to love one another. As the Post-Communion Prayer reminds us, ‘May our communion strengthen us in faith, build us up in hope, and make us grow in love; for the sake of Jesus Christ our Lord.’ Or, as Christ reminds us in this Gospel reading, ‘whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother’ (Mark 3: 35).

‘By the ruler of the demons he casts out demons’ (Mark 3: 22) … an image at La Lonja de la Seda in Valencia (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2020)

Mark 3: 20-35 (NRSVA):

20 The crowd came together again, so that they could not even eat. 21 When his family heard it, they went out to restrain him, for people were saying, ‘He has gone out of his mind.’ 22 And the scribes who came down from Jerusalem said, ‘He has Beelzebul, and by the ruler of the demons he casts out demons.’ 23 And he called them to him, and spoke to them in parables, ‘How can Satan cast out Satan? 24 If a kingdom is divided against itself, that kingdom cannot stand. 25 And if a house is divided against itself, that house will not be able to stand. 26 And if Satan has risen up against himself and is divided, he cannot stand, but his end has come. 27 But no one can enter a strong man’s house and plunder his property without first tying up the strong man; then indeed the house can be plundered.

28 ‘Truly I tell you, people will be forgiven for their sins and whatever blasphemies they utter; 29 but whoever blasphemes against the Holy Spirit can never have forgiveness, but is guilty of an eternal sin’ – 30 for they had said, ‘He has an unclean spirit.’

31 Then his mother and his brothers came; and standing outside, they sent to him and called him. 32 A crowd was sitting around him; and they said to him, ‘Your mother and your brothers and sisters are outside, asking for you.’ 33 And he replied, ‘Who are my mother and my brothers?’ 34 And looking at those who sat around him, he said, ‘Here are my mother and my brothers! 35 Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.’

‘Time present and time past / Are both perhaps present in time future / And time future contained in time past’ (TS Eliot, ‘Burnt Norton’) … summer returns to Cross in Hand Lane, Lichfield (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Liturgical Resources:

Liturgical Colour: Green

The Collect of the Day:

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

Collect of the Word:

Almighty God,
without you we are unable to please you:
mercifully grant that your Holy Spirit
may in all things direct and rule our hearts:
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

The Post-Communion Prayer:

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

‘We look not at what can be seen but at what cannot be seen; for what can be seen is temporary, but what cannot be seen is eternal’ (II Corinthians 4: 18) … reflections in the windows at the Theatre Royal in Waterford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019)

Suggested hymns:

I Samuel 8: 4-11 (12-15), 16-20 (11: 14-17):

131, Lift up your heads, you mighty gates

or

Genesis 3: 8-15:

250, All hail the power of Jesu’s name
99, Jesus, the name high over all
484, Lift high the cross, the love of Christ proclaim
555, Lord of creation, forgive us, we pray
108, Praise to the holiest, in the height
545, Sing of Eve and sing of Adam
290, Walking in the garden at the close of day
186, What Adam’s disobedience cost
292, Ye choirs of new Jerusalem

Psalm 138:

250, All hail the power of Jesu’s name
358, King of glory, King of peace
21, The Lord’s my shepherd, I’ll not want

or:

Psalm 130:

564, Deus meus, adiuva me
620, O Lord, hear my prayer
9, There’s a wideness in God’s mercy
627, What a friend we have in Jesus

II Corinthians 4: 13 to 5: 1:

566, Fight the good fight with all thy might!
418, Here, o my Lord, I see thee face to face
277, Love’s redeeming work is done

Mark 3: 20-35:

522, In Christ there is no east or west
432, Love is his word, love is his way
197, Songs of thankfulness and praise
313, The Spirit came, as promised
662, Those who would valour see

‘In Christ there is no east or west’ (Hymn 522) … confusing road signs in Tsesmes near Rethymnon in 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 hymns 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.

‘For we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God’ (II Corinthians 5: 1) … preparing for an outdoor summer Eucharist at the Rectory in Askeaton, Co Limerick

Tuesday, 25 May 2021

Readings, hymns and
sermon ideas for
Monday 31 May 2021,
The Visitation

The Visitation depicted in the central panel in the East Window in Saint Mary’s Church, Pallaskenry, Co Limerick (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2021)

Patrick Comerford

The Feast of the Visitation of the Blessed Virgin Mary in on Monday next, 31 May 2021.

Last year (2020), 31 May was Pentecost Day, so any opportunities for marking this feast day were cancelled by both the exigencies of the Church Calendar and the Covid-19 pandemic restrictions.

This year, with a slight easing of restrictions on church attendances, the Feast of the Visitation may be the first opportunity for churches with the dedication ‘Saint Mary’ to find an appropriate occasion for a weekday Eucharist.

The readings in the Revised Common Lectionary, as adapted for use in the Church of Ireland are:

The Readings: Zephaniah 3: 14-18; Psalm 113; Romans 12: 9-16; Luke 1: 39-39 (50-56).

In the Calendar of Common Worship, the Feast of the Visitation or the Visit of the Blessed Virgin Mary to Elizabeth may be celebrated in the Church of England on 2 July, the date it was once assigned in The Book of Common Prayer, instead of 31 May.

‘Mary meets Elizabeth’ (1996), by Dinah Roe Kendall, from ‘Allegories of Heaven: an artist explores the greatest story ever told’ (Carlisle: Piquant, 2002)

Introduction:

One of my favourite depictions of the Visitation is Dinah Roe Kendall’s painting, Mary meets Elizabeth (1996), which is in acrylic on canvas.

Dinah Roe Kendall was born in Bakewell, Derbyshire, in 1923 into a family of professional artists. Her grandfather and great-grandfather were both well-known artists. Her great-grandmother was the daughter of the Victorian sculptor whose statue of Lord Nelson stands in Trafalgar Square, London.

Her father planned for her to proceed to full-time training, but World War II and his early death occurred before these hopes could be realised. After her wartime nursing, she attended Sheffield Art School and was then received an ex-service grant to enable her to study at the Slade School of Fine Art in London (1948 to 1952).

There Lucien Freud asked her to sit for him, Stanley Spencer’s daughter Unity was a fellow-student, and Dinah learned from Jacob Epstein, Stanley Spencer and many other artists.

The nostalgic world of primitive painting is far removed from her vibrant Biblical scenes, placed in modern contexts and painted in modern materials. Although the influence of her teachers can be seen in her work, she has moved on from them, developing a style that is distinctly her own.

Her paintings are drenched in colour, reflecting five years of living in Cyprus and the influence of modern artists she has admired, including Peter Howson and Ana Maria Pacheco.

She usually paints in acrylic on board or canvas, mixing the paint with thickening media. Her angels wear robes built up of thick knife and brush strokes flecked with gold. She paints the cross as a visual sermon: no mere philosophical concept, but a hunk of wood along which, as Francis Schaeffer used to remark, one could have run a finger and got a splinter.

Despite changing fashions and much pressure to explore abstract art, she has always remained a figurative painter. Her Biblical scenes are cast in modern contexts: Christ visits a school in Sheffield; Lazarus is raised from the dead in an alcove in a wall borrowed from Chatsworth House; Jairus’s daughter wakes up upstairs in a modern home, surrounded by modern neighbours as an abandoned teddy-bear on a chair in by the window watches on in amazement; the infant Christ presented in the Temple is looking right at the viewer; in the case of the Woman taken in Adultery, Christ’s finger writing in the dust points out of the canvas and at the viewer.

Her ‘Entry into Jerusalem’ is set in the playground of the Porter Croft School in Sheffield, where the painting now hangs, and the Baptism of Christ takes place in a swimming pool.

At the ‘Supper at Emmaus,’ Christ sits at the head of a table, with two disciples whose hands reach out towards his. He is holding a loaf of bread; wine and glasses stand ready. His pose recalls Stanley Spencer’s 1939 painting of a lonely Christ in the Wilderness, cradling in his hands a scorpion.

There is social comment and humour too in her work: the Good Samaritan is a black man; ‘The Marriage at Cana in Galilee’ is a witty footnote to a famous painting by Breughel; and ‘Jesus visits Bethany’ is a delightful depiction of an off-duty Christ, even though the crowds are pressing in at the door. Inside the house in Bethany, Lazarus sits apart from the others in a curtained alcove as if the shadow of the tomb has not quite left him. His eyes are fixed not upon Christ but upon some faraway place, as if contemplating a landscape that only he has seen.

At the opening of an exhibition of her paintings in Winchester Cathedral some years ago, Dinah Roe Kendall said that she wants to show that meeting Christ is an unsettling and life-changing experience that could happen at any point in time.

This painting, Mary meets Elizabeth, is among her many paintings included in Allegories of Heaven: an artist explores the greatest story ever told (Carlisle: Piquant, 2002), drawing on texts from The Message text by Eugene Peterson. The Revd Tom Devonshire Jones, founder and Director Emeritus of ACE (Art and Christianity Enquiry), has commented: ‘Dinah Roe Kendall’s fresh, sassy and devout paintings are breathing new life into religious art at the start of the third millennium. Already receiving the grateful attention of worshipper and enquirer alike, they are finding a secure place in the world of faith and of art.’

The Visitation depicted in a window in Saint Ailbe’s Church, Emly, Co Tipperary (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

The Canticle Magnificat:

The Canticle Magnificat, in the Anglican tradition, is a fixed canticle in Evening Prayer or Evensong. The original words (Luke 1: 46-55) in New Testament Greek are:

Μεγαλύνει ἡ ψυχή μου τὸν Κύριον,
καὶ ἠγαλλίασεν τὸ πνεῦμά μου ἐπὶ τῷ
Θεῷ τῷ σωτῆρί μου,
ὅτι ἐπέβλεψεν ἐπὶ τὴν ταπείνωσιν τῆς δούλης αυτοῦ.
ἰδοὺ γὰρ ἀπὸ τοῦ νῦν
μακαριοῦσίν με πᾶσαι αἱ γενεαί,
ὅτι ἐποίησέν μοι μεγάλα ὁ δυνατός.
καὶ ἅγιον τὸ ὄνομα αὐτοῦ,
καὶ τὸ ἔλεος αὐτοῦ εἰς γενεὰς καὶ γενεὰς
τοῖς φοβουμένοις αυτόν.
Ἐποίησεν κράτος ἐν βραχίονι αὐτοῦ,
διεσκόρπισεν ὑπερηφάνους διανοίᾳ καρδίας αὐτῶν·
καθεῖλεν δυνάστας ἀπὸ θρόνων
καὶ ὕψωσεν ταπεινούς,
πεινῶντας ἐνέπλησεν ἀγαθῶν
καὶ πλουτοῦντας ἐξαπέστειλεν κενούς.
ἀντελάβετο Ἰσραὴλ παιδὸς αὐτοῦ,
μνησθῆναι ἐλέους,
καθὼς ἐλάλησεν πρὸς τοὺς πατέρας ἡμῶν
τῷ Αβραὰμ καὶ τῷ σπέρματι
αὐτοῦ εἰς τὸν αἰῶνα.

The Canticle Magnificat in the Book of Common Prayer (1662) reads:

My soul doth magnify the Lord:
and my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour.

For he hath regarded:
the lowliness of his handmaiden.

For behold, from henceforth:
all generations shall call me blessed.

For he that is mighty hath magnified me:
and holy is his Name.

And his mercy is on them that fear him:
throughout all generations.

He hath shewed strength with his arm:
he hath scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts.

He hath put down the mighty from their seat:
and hath exalted the humble and meek.

He hath filled the hungry with good things:
and the rich he hath sent empty away.

He remembering his mercy hath holpen his servant Israel:
as he promised to our forefathers, Abraham and his seed for ever.

Common Worship (ELLC translation):

My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord,
my spirit rejoices in God my Saviour;
he has looked with favour on his lowly servant.

From this day all generations will call me blessed;
the Almighty has done great things for me
and holy is his name.

He has mercy on those who fear him,
from generation to generation.

He has shown strength with his arm
and has scattered the proud in their conceit,

Casting down the mighty from their thrones
and lifting up the lowly.

He has filled the hungry with good things
and sent the rich away empty.

He has come to the aid of his servant Israel,
to remember his promise of mercy,

The promise made to our ancestors,
to Abraham and his children for ever.

An icon of the Virgin Mary found in an antique shop in Rethymnon and now in Saint Mary’s Rectory, Askeaton, Co Limerick (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Reflections on the Gospel reading:

The great German theologian and martyr, Dietrich Bonhoeffer (1906-1945), in a sermon in London almost 90 years ago in 1933, said the canticle Magnificat ‘is the oldest Advent hymn.’ He spoke of how the Virgin Mary knows better than anyone else what it means to wait for Christ’s coming.

When the Virgin Mary visits her cousin Saint Elizabeth, they are both pregnant – one with the Christ Child, the other with Saint John the Baptist.

When she arrives, although he is still in his mother’s womb, Saint John the Baptist is aware of the presence of Christ and the unborn child leaps for joy.

Saint Elizabeth too recognises that Christ is present, and she declares to Mary with a loud cry: ‘Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb. And why has this happened to me, that the mother of my Lord comes to me? For as soon as I heard the sound of your greeting, the child in my womb leaped for joy.’

The Virgin Mary responds immediately with the words we now know as the Magnificat, one of the best loved canticles. We sang it as Hymn 712, ‘Tell out, my soul.’

So we see, side-by-side, two women, one seemingly too old to have a child, but destined to bear the last prophet, linking the Old Testament and the New Testament; and the other, seemingly too young to have a child but about to give birth to a new beginning, a new age that is not going to pass away.

I find it sad that the Virgin Mary can be divisive for those in the Protestant and Catholic traditions, in the wider Church and within Anglicanism.

There are numerous cathedrals and churches in the Church of Ireland and throughout the Anglican Communion dedicated to Saint Mary, including Saint Mary’s Cathedral, Limerick, and many Anglican cathedrals have Lady Chapels.

Article 2 of the 39 Articles is a traditional Anglican affirmation of the Virgin Mary’s title as Theotokos, the God-bearer or Mother of God: ‘The … Godhead and Manhood, were joined together in one Person, never to be divided, whereof is one Christ, very God, and very Man …’ Any other interpretations quickly lead to the heresies of Arianism, Nestorianism or Monophysitism.

The divisions among Anglicans over the place of the Virgin Mary are probably founded on perceptions of Mariology within the Roman Catholic tradition. On the other hand, many of my neighbours who come out with statements that reflect what they have been told since childhood – such as ‘You don’t believe in Mary’ – are surprised when they are told the canticle Magnificat is a traditional part of Anglican Evensong ever since the Reformation.

The Virgin Mary of the canticle Magnificat and of the Visitation is a strong and revolutionary woman, unlike the Virgin Mary of the plaster-cast statues and the Rosary.

The Mary I see as a role model for belief and discipleship is the Mary who sets off in a hurry and a flurry to visit her cousin Elizabeth, the Mary with a gob on her who speaks out of turn when she comes out with those wonderful words we hear when she sings the Canticle Magnificat.

What a contrasting pair these two cousins, Mary and Elizabeth, are!

How much they speak to so many of the dilemmas we have in Irish society today!

Elizabeth is the older woman. She has been married for years. Because of social and family pressures, she had started to become embarrassed that after all those years of marriage she has not become pregnant.

In those days – even in many places to this day – this was an embarrassing social stigma. She had no son to inherit her husband’s lands, his family position, the place of Zechariah as a priest in the Temple in Jerusalem.

She reminds us too of Sarah, who is so embarrassed at the thought of becoming pregnant in her old age that she laughs in the face of the three visitors, she laughs in the face of the living Triune God.

Today, a woman who became pregnant at her stage of life might not laugh. She might quake with fear. She might ask for amniocentesis or an amniotic fluid test.

And yet Elizabeth takes control of her situation. She turns a predicament into an opportunity, a crisis of a pregnancy so late in life into a blessing for us all.

She is so filled with joy when her cousin Mary arrives that as soon as she hears the knock on the door, as soon as she hears the sound of Mary on her doorstep, her joy is infectious, so infectious that even the child in her womb leaps with joy in her womb.

Elizabeth’s action is radical. Life is tough enough for her. Her husband has been struck dumb. A dumb priest was unlikely to be able to continue to earn a liturgical living in the Temple in Jerusalem. How was she now going to provide for her child when he was born?

But Elizabeth’s action is even more radical than that.

How many women of her age, and her respectable background, would have been so quick to rush out and welcome her much younger, single and pregnant cousin?

How many women would have worried: ‘What if she stays here and has the child here? Could we ever live with the shame?’

How many women might have suggested instead that Mary goes off and finds a home where they can find someone else to take care of her child when he is born?

Instead, Elizabeth welcomes Mary with open arms. Elizabeth’s joyful greeting, ‘Blessed are you among women …,’ echoes the greeting of the Archangel Gabriel (see Luke 1: 28), ‘Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb.’

It is almost as if Elizabeth is saying: ‘It doesn’t matter what others think of you. It doesn’t matter how other people are going to judge you. I love you.’

Which is precisely what God is saying in the Incarnation, in the precious gift of the Christmas: ‘It doesn’t matter what others think of you. It doesn’t matter how other people are going to judge you. I love you.’

Mary for her part is such a wonderful, feisty person. She is, what might be described in the red-top tabloids today as ‘a gymslip Mum.’ But, instead of hiding herself away from her family, from her cousins, from the woman in her family who is married to a priest, she rushes off to her immediately, to share her good news with her.

And she challenges so many of our prejudices, and our values, and our presumptions today. Not just about gymslip mums and unexpected or unplanned pregnancies, but about what the silent and the marginalised have to say about our values in society today.

And Mary declares:

‘He has shown strength with his arm;
he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.
He has brought down the powerful from their thrones,
and lifted up the lowly;
he has filled the hungry with good things,
and sent the rich away empty.
He has helped his servant Israel,
in remembrance of his mercy,
according to the promise he made to our ancestors,
to Abraham and to his descendants for ever.’

The words of the canticle Magnificat carved on the wooden screen at the west end of the monastic church in Mount Melleray Abbey, Cappoquin, Co Waterford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2020)

Luke 1: 39-49 (50-56) (NRSVA):

39 In those days Mary set out and went with haste to a Judean town in the hill country, 40 where she entered the house of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth. 41 When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the child leapt in her womb. And Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit 42 and exclaimed with a loud cry, ‘Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb. 43 And why has this happened to me, that the mother of my Lord comes to me? 44 For as soon as I heard the sound of your greeting, the child in my womb leapt for joy. 45 And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfilment of what was spoken to her by the Lord.’

46 And Mary said,

‘My soul magnifies the Lord,
47 and my spirit rejoices in God my Saviour,
48 for he has looked with favour on the lowliness of his servant.
Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed;
49 for the Mighty One has done great things for me,
and holy is his name.
50 His mercy is for those who fear him
from generation to generation.
51 He has shown strength with his arm;
he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.
52 He has brought down the powerful from their thrones,
and lifted up the lowly;
53 he has filled the hungry with good things,
and sent the rich away empty.
54 He has helped his servant Israel,
in remembrance of his mercy,
55 according to the promise he made to our ancestors,
to Abraham and to his descendants for ever.’

56 And Mary remained with her for about three months and then returned to her home.

The Visitation of the Virgin Mary to Saint Elizabeth … a panel from the triptych in the Lady Chapel in Lichfield Cathedral (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Liturgical Resources:

Liturgical Colour: White

Penitential Kyries:

Lord God, mighty God,
you are the creator of the world.
Lord, have mercy.
Lord, have mercy.

Lord Jesus, Son of God and Son of Mary,
you are the Prince of Peace.
Christ, have mercy.
Christ, have mercy.

Holy Spirit, by your power the Word was made flesh
and came to dwell among us.
Lord, have mercy.
Lord, have mercy.

The Collect:

Mighty God,
by whose grace Elizabeth rejoiced with Mary
and greeted her as the mother of the Lord:
Look with favour on your lowly servants
that, with Mary, we may magnify your holy name
and rejoice to acclaim her Son our Saviour,
who is alive and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.

Introduction to the Peace:

Unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given:
and his name is called the Prince of Peace (Isaiah 9: 7).

Preface:

You chose the Blessed Virgin Mary
to be the mother of your Son
and so exalted th humble and meek;
your angel hailed her as most highly favoured,
and with all generations we call her blessed:

Post-Communion Prayer:

Gracious God,
who gave joy to Elizabeth and Mary
as they recognised the signs of redemption at work within them:
Help us, who have shared the joy of this eucharist,
to know the Lord deep within us
and his live shining out in our lives,
that the world may rejoice in your salvation;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Blessing:

Christ the Son of God, born of Mary,
fill you with his grace
to trust his promises and obey his will:

The prayer for Monday 31 May 2021 in Pray with the World Church, the prayer diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), prays:

O Lord, let us remember that through you anything is possible. Bless our sisters and brothers in their Kingdom work.

The Visitation by James B Janknegt

Suggested Hymns:

Zephaniah 3: 14-18:

86, Christ is the King! O friends rejoice
646, Glorious things of thee are spoken
125, Hail to the Lord's anointed
281, Rejoice, the Lord is King!

Psalm 113:

501, Christ is the world's true Light
360, Let all the world in every corner sing
718, O praise the Lord, ye servants of the Lord
719, Praise the Lord, all you servants of the Lord
712, Tell out, my soul, the greatness of the Lord
73, The day thou gavest, Lord, is ended

Romans 12: 9-16:

515, A new commandment I give unto you
516, Belovèd, let us love: love is of God
517, Brother, sister, let me serve you
219, From heav’n you came, helpless babe
523, Help us to help each other, Lord
525, Let there be love shared among us
503, Make me a channel of your peace

Luke 1: 39-49 (50-56):

470, Let God’s people join in worship
704, Mary sang a song, a song of love
472, Sing we of the blessèd Mother
712, Tell out, my soul, the greatness of the Lord
373, To God be the glory!
476, Ye watchers and ye holy ones

‘He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly’ (Luke 1: 52) … symbols of the Virgin Mary in a stained-glass window in Saint Mary’s Church, Lichfield (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 hymns 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 Visitation depicted in a stained-glass window in the Church of Saint Mary the Virgin, Saffron Walden … the largest parish church in Essex (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)