Thought for the week: Jonathan Swift - much more than Gulliver
On October 19, I shall remember a church predecessor whose life and work continue to challenge, unsettle and inspire us. Jonathan Swift died on that date in 1745, having served as Dean of St Patrick’s Cathedral, Dublin, for more than 30 years.
Yet, three centuries after the publication of his book 'Gulliver’s Travels', how much do we really remember about the man behind the publication?
Swift was not simply a brilliant satirist who happened to hold a Church of Ireland appointment. He was a priest of the Anglican Communion, and his priesthood was central to his life.
Ordained in 1695, he served in Co Antrim and Co Meath before becoming Dean in 1713. He preached, worshipped and ministered at St Patrick’s, while his fierce intelligence confronted the injustices and absurdities of the world around him then.
His concern for Ireland was no abstract exercise. Swift wrote with extraordinary force against exploitation, political corruption and the suffering of ordinary people. His social conscience found practical expression, too: in his will, he left £12,000 towards the establishment of St Patrick’s Hospital, founded to care for people with mental illness.
Last Wednesday, I travelled to Quilca in Co Cavan, where Swift often stayed with his great friend, the Rev Dr Thomas Sheridan. Behind the public figure was a man who valued friendship, conversation and the company of fellow minds. A memorial stone near the place where he stayed now helps keep that connection alive.
Today, scholars will gather in the Deanery at St Patrick’s cathedral, Dublin for a symposium marking the 300th anniversary of 'Gulliver’s Travels', first published on October 28, 1726.
Tomorrow (Sunday), we shall commemorate Swift at Evensong. On October 28, around 130 children will bring a new musical work to life, inspired by the words of his friend Alexander Pope, with music by Professor Seán Doherty, a native of Londonderry, the Maiden City, now working in Dublin city university. Conceived by our Master of the Music, Stuart Nicholson, it carries Swift’s imaginative world into another generation.
As his successor at St Patrick's, I find Swift’s inheritance formidable. He could make us laugh, expose our pretensions and confront our failures. We honour him not by making him comfortable or tame, but by allowing his questions to trouble us still.