The ruins of Saint Peter’s Church, Stantonbury, now isolated in a park area between the River Great Ouse and the Grand Union Canal (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Patrick Comerford
I visited Christ Church, Stantonbury, earlier this week, so that I would not miss out on the first opportunity to visit the 50-year-old church, which is based on the Stantonbury Campus in North Milton Keynes.
Christ Church is the parish church for Stantonbury and Bradville and is part of the Stantonbury Ecumenical Partnership, the first Local Ecumenical Project (LEP) in Milton Keynes. It is part a group of six congregations in the north-east area of Milton Keynes and supported by the Church of England, the Baptist Union, the Methodist Church and the United Reformed Church.
Stantonbury is about 3.2 km (2 miles) north of Central Milton Keynes, between Great Linford and Wolverton, and south of Oakridge Park. The name Stantonbury comes from Stanton-, referring to the Old English for a stone-built farmstead, and -bury, referring to the Barre or Barry family who owned the land in 1235.
The ruins of Saint Peter’s Church in Stanton Low (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
After my afternoon visit to Christ Church, I went in search of the original Stantonbury and the ruins of Saint Peter’s Church, now isolated in a park area between the River Great Ouse and the Grand Union Canal.
The area of the deserted mediaeval village that gives its name to Stantonbury is now known as Stanton Low, and the name Stantonbury has become the name of the modern district at the heart of the civil parish, which includes Stantonbury, Bancroft, Bancroft Park, Blue Bridge, Bradville and Linford Wood.
Modern Stantonbury lies on land historically known as Stanton High. Stanton Low lies between the banks of River Great Ouse and the banks of the Grand Union Canal. The deserted village of historic Stantonbury was one of the villages in rural Buckinghamshire included in the area designated in 1967 to become Milton Keynes. Today it is an uninhabited agricultural area near the river.
Little if anything remains of the deserted village other than the ruins of the parish church of Saint Peter. The ruins of a Roman villa were discovered there in the late 1950s but were completely destroyed by gravel extraction.
The west end of the former parish church of Saint Peter in Stanton Low (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
The former parish church of Saint Peter in Stanton Low is Norman, with a mid-12th century nave and an earlier chancel. There was a squint in the south wall of the chancel, but this was later blocked up. Saint Peter’s was extensively rebuilt in the 13th century. The Decorated Gothic east window and piscina were added in the 14th century.
There had been a manor house in Stantonbury since the mediaeval period. Sir John Wittewrong (1618-1693), a Parliamentarian colonel, bought the decaying manor from Sir John Temple (1632-1705) in 1658. Wittewrong was High Sheriff of Hertfordshire that year, and after the Caroline restoration he was made a baronet in 1662. He began to remodel the manor house in 1664, and the house was completed in 1668.
The mansion was 28 metres long, 15 metres long, and portioned into three large rooms, including a great hall and two parlours. In addition, there were landscaped gardens, a large pond, footpaths and viewing terraces, a plantation of native and exotic trees, and a prospect mound with views across the Ouse Valley.
In the former chancel in the ruins of Saint Peter’s Church, facing west (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
By the latter part of the 17th century, Stantonbury was almost deserted, but the church was still in use. The Puritan poet and hymnwriter John Mason (1645-1694) was the Vicar of Stantonbury in 1668-1674. But by then the village was virtually deserted and had no vicarage, Mason may, in reality, have been chaplain to Sir John Wittewrong. He left to became the rector of Water Stratford, Buckinghamshire, in 1674, when he was presented by Anne Roper, wife of Thomas Roper, 2nd Viscount Baltinglass, and a daughter of Sir Peter Temple.
In Water Stratford, Mason ceased to administer the sacrament in the church, and preached on no other subject than that of the personal reign of Christ on earth, which he announced as about to begin in Water Stratford, and he predicted that the prophet Elijah and that he would be raised from the dead three days after his death.
On the other hand, Mason is also remembered as a hymnwriter. He wrote more than 30 hymns, including ‘How shall I sing that majesty’, which remains a popular hymn.
A geophysical survey has pinpointed the location of the 17th century manor house (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Meanwhile, Stanton Manor passed through a succession of Wittewrong baronets, each named Sir John Wittewrong, until the fourth baronet, Sir John Wittewrong (1695-1743) ran into financial difficulties. He never had a chance to live in the house and fled abroad after murdering a local con man. The house was sold to the Duchess of Marlborough in 1727, and Wittewrong later died fighting a fellow inmate in the Fleet debtors’ prison.
Only four houses remained in the village by 1736 – three farmhouses and the manor house. The manor house was badly damaged in a fire in 1743, and was eventually demolished in 1791.
The arrival of the railways brought some new life to the church. But by the late 19th century, Saint James’s Church in New Bradwell was more convenient for local people, and Saint Peter’s fell into further decline.
Over 1,000 marriages had taken place in Saint James’s by 1909, when the vicar discovered that the church had never been licensed to weddings. Two planned weddings were quickly moved to a crumbling Saint Peter’s. The unusual spectacle encouraged hundreds of parishioners and railway workers to fill the churchyard for what became a real community event. Soon after, hurried legislation was rushed through Parliament to legitimise the older weddings.
John Mason, was the Vicar of Stantonbury in 1668-1674, wrote the hymn ‘How shall I sing that majesty’ (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Saint Peter’s was still in use in 1927. John Piper (1903-1992), best-known for his Baptistry window in Coventry Cathedral, and who also designed the east window in the chapel of Saint John's Hospital in Lichfield, painted a watercolour of Saint Peter’s ca 1940. The church was in very poor condition by 1948, the windows were removed, and many of the fixtures and fittings were removed, stolen or vandalised.
By 1955, the church had been disused for a number of years, and when the roof collapsed in 1956, it was not repaired. Quarrying destroyed what was left of the village in the 1960s, and the east window and ornamented Norman chancel arch were removed in 1963 and placed in to Saint James’ Church, New Bradwell.
Saint Peter’s was a ruin by 1973, but the building is now a Grade II listed building. Because the civil parish boundary runs along the canal, Saint Peter’s is actually in Haversham-cum-Little Linford civil parish.
A geophysical survey in 2015 pinpointed the location of the long-lost manor house and excavations have continued since then. The ruins of Saint Peter’s Church and the archaeological dig at the site of the manor house are all that remain of the abandoned village of Stantonbury, although Saint Peter’s is also remembered in street names in New Bradwell.
The east end of Saint Peter’s Church, Stantonbury (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
09 January 2025
In search of Saint Peter’s,
a ruined mediaeval church
in the abandoned and lost
village of Stantonbury
Labels:
archaeology,
Architecture,
Canals,
Church History,
Elijah,
Haversham,
Hymns,
Local History,
Milton Keynes,
Milton Keynes churches,
New Bradwell,
River Ouse,
Saint Peter,
Stantonbury
Daily prayer in Christmas 2024-2025:
16, Thursday 9 January 2025
‘The boat was out on the lake, and he was alone on the land’ (Mark 6: 47) … on the water at Bako National Park, north of Kuching in Sarawak (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)
Patrick Comerford
The 40-day season of Christmas continues until Candlemas or the Feast of the Presentation (2 February).
Before today begins, I am taking some quiet time this morning to give thanks, to reflect, to pray and to read in these ways:
1, today’s Gospel reading;
2, a short reflection;
3, a prayer from the USPG prayer diary;
4, the Collects and Post-Communion prayer of the day.
‘Then he got into the boat with them and the wind ceased’ (Mark 6: 51) … gondolas near Saint Mark’s Square in Venice (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Mark 6: 45-52 (NRSVA):
45 Immediately he made his disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side, to Bethsaida, while he dismissed the crowd. 46 After saying farewell to them, he went up on the mountain to pray.
47 When evening came, the boat was out on the lake, and he was alone on the land. 48 When he saw that they were straining at the oars against an adverse wind, he came towards them early in the morning, walking on the lake. He intended to pass them by. 49 But when they saw him walking on the lake, they thought it was a ghost and cried out; 50 for they all saw him and were terrified. But immediately he spoke to them and said, ‘Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.’ 51 Then he got into the boat with them and the wind ceased. And they were utterly astounded, 52 for they did not understand about the loaves, but their hearts were hardened.
‘When evening came, the boat was out on the lake’ (Mark 6: 47) … a small lake at the Sarawak Cultural Village, near Kuching (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)
Today’s Reflection:
Saint Mark’s account of the feeding of the 5,000 (6: 34-44), which was the Gospel reading at the Eucharist yesterday, is followed today by his account of Jesus calming the storm on the lake (Mark 6: 45-52).
Each of Saint Mark’s feeding miracles is joined with a water miracle, evoking the Exodus stories, including God parting the waters (Exodus 14: 19-31) and God feeding the people in the wilderness (Exodus 16: 31-21), and the disciples’ misunderstanding is a serious condition, akin to Pharaoh’s misunderstanding that is linked to his oppression of the enslaved people (see Exodus 7 to 11).
In today’s Gospel reading, the disciples are on a boat on their way to Bethsaida when they are caught in a storm on the lake. Jesus walks on the water, calms their fears and shows his divine power – in this case over the stormy, choppy seas (verses 45-52).
In the Gospel reading, the disciples feel abandoned as they face their worst fears and face the abyss in the sea, the fear of drowning in the storms of life, of falling into the pit.
But Christ tells them, ‘Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.’ And they respond with faith, bow down and worship him, and proclaim him the Son of God.
Christ tells the disciples to get into the boat and to go ahead of to the other side of the lake while he sends the crowd home.
Then, instead of using another boat to follow the disciples, or walking around the shoreline, he goes up a mountain by himself, and he spends the evening and much of the night in prayer.
The Sea of Galilee is shallow, but storms can rise suddenly. Early in the morning, before dawn, the boat is far from the shore when it is battered by waves and the wind. The disciples have lost control and are frightened. They see Jesus walking on the sea, and are terrified even more, thinking they are seeing a ghost. They cry out in their fears, but Jesus seeks to calm their fears: ‘Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid’ (verse 50).
During the past year, I have enjoyed a number of journeys on boats, and walked by countless rivers, harbours, lakes and canals, enjoying the sight of other people enjoying their time in boats and on the water – in Cambridge, Dublin, Great Linford, Iraklion, Kuching, London, Oxford, Paris, Rethymnon, Singapore, Stony Stratford …
It is almost 60 years since I first went rowing as a teenager on Lough Ramor in Virginia. But as an adult, I had long thought that I would be left regretting that I had arrived in Cambridge as a student in my 50s, too late in life to learn, or to re-learn how to row. I had come to enjoy rowing as a sport and an activity, but in a very passive way.
Then one evening, as I was standing casually at the slipway at Askeaton, Co Limerick, where I was living as the priest-in-charge, I was suddenly and unexpectedly invited to get into a boat and started to row.
I was fearless. It was a pleasure I had often hoped for and wished for. And for almost an hour, we rowed upstream, under the bridge at Askeaton, and as far as the castle, and then downstream past the factory, although not as far as the estuary.
When I suggested that I might be too old to learn, I was told brusquely and with humour, that once I stopped learning I had stopped living.
Since then, I have watched children and teenagers hop in and out of boats, freely and fearlessly, confident of their own ability and the ability of those who are training them.
Freely and fearlessly. But as I was messing about on boats in Crete during a holiday some years ago, hopping on and off boats in the sun as I visited smaller islands and lagoons off the coast, I thought of how this was a pleasure that I was paying for, while many refugees were full of fear as they boarded boats in the dark trying to arrive on Greek islands, or cross the Channel, having paid exorbitantly for the risk and the dangers.
Freely. Fearlessly. What are your worst fears?
Many of us have continuing fears about the economy, and some of us have fears that there may be yet another about the Covid-19 pandemic, or that the conflicts raging between Russia and Ukraine and throughout the Middle East may spill over into our own ‘safe areas’. Others of us also have well-founded fears about the ways a second Trump presidency threatens stability in the US and across the world.
As we grow up and mature, we tend to have fewer fears of the outside world, and as adults we begin to cope with the fears we once had as children, by turning threats into opportunities.
The fears I had as a child – of snakes, of the wind, of storms at sea, of lightning – are no longer the stuff of the recurring nightmares they were when I was a child. I have learned to be cautious, to be sensible and to keep my distance, and to be in awe of God’s creation.
Most of us have recurring dreams that are vivid and that have themes that keep repeating themselves. Yet in sleep the brain can act as a filter or filing cabinet, helping us to process, deal with and put aside what we have found difficult to understand in our waking hours, or to try to find ways of dealing with our lack of confidence, feelings of inadequacy, with the ways we confuse gaining attention with receiving love, or with our needs to be accepted, affirmed and loved.
The disciples’ plight in today’s Gospel reading seems to be the working out of a constant, recurring, vivid dream of the type many of us experience at some stage: the feelings of drowning, floating and falling suddenly, being in a crowd and yet alone, calling out and not being heard, or not being recognised for who we are.
As seasoned boat-handlers, the Disciples know not to try walking on water. They know the risk of sudden storms and swells, and they know the safety of a good boat, as long as it has a good crew.
But since the early history of the Church, the boat has symbolised the Church. The bark (barque or barchetta) symbolises the Church tossed on the sea of disbelief, worldliness, and persecution but finally reaching safe harbour. Part of the imagery comes from the ark saving Noah’s family during the Flood (I Peter 3: 20-21). Christ protects the Disciples and their boat on the stormy Sea of Galilee (see also Matthew 14: 22-33; John 6 16-21). The mast forms the shape of the Cross.
It is an image that appears in Apostolic Constitutions and the writings of Tertullian and Clement of Alexandria. We still use the word nave for the main part of the church, which, architecturally often looks like an up-turned boat.
None of us should risk walking on water, or risk play stupidly in boats on the river or in choppy waters or storms. But if we are to dream dreams for the Church and for the Kingdom of God, we need to be aware that it comes at the risk of feeling we are being sold out by those we see as brothers and sisters, and risk being seen as dreamers rather than people of action by others: for our dreams may be their nightmares.
If we are going to dream dreams for the Church, for the Kingdom of God, we may need to step out of our safety zones, our comfort zones, and know that this comes with a risk warning.
And if we are going to dream dreams for the Church, for the Kingdom of God, we need to keep our eyes focussed on Christ, and to know that the Church is there to bring us on that journey.
Let us dream dreams, take risks for the Kingdom of God, step outside the box, but let us keep our eyes on Christ and remember that the boat, the Church, is essential for our journey, and let us continue to worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness.
‘He came towards them early in the morning, walking on the lake’ (Mark 6: 48) … flood waters near the River Ouse at Stony Stratford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)
Today’s Prayers (Thursday 9 January 2025):
The theme this week in ‘Pray With the World Church’, the Prayer Diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), is ‘The Melanesian Brotherhood Centenary’. This theme was introduced on Sunday with a Programme Update by Ella Sibley, Regional Manager for Europe and Oceania, USPG.
The USPG Prayer Diary today (Thursday 9 January 2025) invites us to pray:
God of peace, we pray for the Pacific Islands, asking you to bring unity, stability, and harmony to the region.
The Collect:
O God,
who by the leading of a star
manifested your only Son to the peoples of the earth:
mercifully grant that we,
who know you now by faith,
may at last behold your glory face to face;
through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord,
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.
The Post-Communion Prayer:
Lord God,
the bright splendour whom the nations seek:
may we who with the wise men have been drawn by your light
discern the glory of your presence in your Son,
the Word made flesh, Jesus Christ our Lord.
Additional Collect:
Creator of the heavens,
who led the Magi by a star
to worship the Christ-child:
guide and sustain us,
that we may find our journey’s end
in Jesus Christ our Lord.
Yesterday’s Reflection
Continued Tomorrow
‘Then he got into the boat with them and the wind ceased’ (Mark 6: 51) … the River Cam and the Backs below Magdalene Bridge in Cambridge (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)
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
Patrick Comerford
The 40-day season of Christmas continues until Candlemas or the Feast of the Presentation (2 February).
Before today begins, I am taking some quiet time this morning to give thanks, to reflect, to pray and to read in these ways:
1, today’s Gospel reading;
2, a short reflection;
3, a prayer from the USPG prayer diary;
4, the Collects and Post-Communion prayer of the day.
‘Then he got into the boat with them and the wind ceased’ (Mark 6: 51) … gondolas near Saint Mark’s Square in Venice (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Mark 6: 45-52 (NRSVA):
45 Immediately he made his disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side, to Bethsaida, while he dismissed the crowd. 46 After saying farewell to them, he went up on the mountain to pray.
47 When evening came, the boat was out on the lake, and he was alone on the land. 48 When he saw that they were straining at the oars against an adverse wind, he came towards them early in the morning, walking on the lake. He intended to pass them by. 49 But when they saw him walking on the lake, they thought it was a ghost and cried out; 50 for they all saw him and were terrified. But immediately he spoke to them and said, ‘Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.’ 51 Then he got into the boat with them and the wind ceased. And they were utterly astounded, 52 for they did not understand about the loaves, but their hearts were hardened.
‘When evening came, the boat was out on the lake’ (Mark 6: 47) … a small lake at the Sarawak Cultural Village, near Kuching (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)
Today’s Reflection:
Saint Mark’s account of the feeding of the 5,000 (6: 34-44), which was the Gospel reading at the Eucharist yesterday, is followed today by his account of Jesus calming the storm on the lake (Mark 6: 45-52).
Each of Saint Mark’s feeding miracles is joined with a water miracle, evoking the Exodus stories, including God parting the waters (Exodus 14: 19-31) and God feeding the people in the wilderness (Exodus 16: 31-21), and the disciples’ misunderstanding is a serious condition, akin to Pharaoh’s misunderstanding that is linked to his oppression of the enslaved people (see Exodus 7 to 11).
In today’s Gospel reading, the disciples are on a boat on their way to Bethsaida when they are caught in a storm on the lake. Jesus walks on the water, calms their fears and shows his divine power – in this case over the stormy, choppy seas (verses 45-52).
In the Gospel reading, the disciples feel abandoned as they face their worst fears and face the abyss in the sea, the fear of drowning in the storms of life, of falling into the pit.
But Christ tells them, ‘Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.’ And they respond with faith, bow down and worship him, and proclaim him the Son of God.
Christ tells the disciples to get into the boat and to go ahead of to the other side of the lake while he sends the crowd home.
Then, instead of using another boat to follow the disciples, or walking around the shoreline, he goes up a mountain by himself, and he spends the evening and much of the night in prayer.
The Sea of Galilee is shallow, but storms can rise suddenly. Early in the morning, before dawn, the boat is far from the shore when it is battered by waves and the wind. The disciples have lost control and are frightened. They see Jesus walking on the sea, and are terrified even more, thinking they are seeing a ghost. They cry out in their fears, but Jesus seeks to calm their fears: ‘Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid’ (verse 50).
During the past year, I have enjoyed a number of journeys on boats, and walked by countless rivers, harbours, lakes and canals, enjoying the sight of other people enjoying their time in boats and on the water – in Cambridge, Dublin, Great Linford, Iraklion, Kuching, London, Oxford, Paris, Rethymnon, Singapore, Stony Stratford …
It is almost 60 years since I first went rowing as a teenager on Lough Ramor in Virginia. But as an adult, I had long thought that I would be left regretting that I had arrived in Cambridge as a student in my 50s, too late in life to learn, or to re-learn how to row. I had come to enjoy rowing as a sport and an activity, but in a very passive way.
Then one evening, as I was standing casually at the slipway at Askeaton, Co Limerick, where I was living as the priest-in-charge, I was suddenly and unexpectedly invited to get into a boat and started to row.
I was fearless. It was a pleasure I had often hoped for and wished for. And for almost an hour, we rowed upstream, under the bridge at Askeaton, and as far as the castle, and then downstream past the factory, although not as far as the estuary.
When I suggested that I might be too old to learn, I was told brusquely and with humour, that once I stopped learning I had stopped living.
Since then, I have watched children and teenagers hop in and out of boats, freely and fearlessly, confident of their own ability and the ability of those who are training them.
Freely and fearlessly. But as I was messing about on boats in Crete during a holiday some years ago, hopping on and off boats in the sun as I visited smaller islands and lagoons off the coast, I thought of how this was a pleasure that I was paying for, while many refugees were full of fear as they boarded boats in the dark trying to arrive on Greek islands, or cross the Channel, having paid exorbitantly for the risk and the dangers.
Freely. Fearlessly. What are your worst fears?
Many of us have continuing fears about the economy, and some of us have fears that there may be yet another about the Covid-19 pandemic, or that the conflicts raging between Russia and Ukraine and throughout the Middle East may spill over into our own ‘safe areas’. Others of us also have well-founded fears about the ways a second Trump presidency threatens stability in the US and across the world.
As we grow up and mature, we tend to have fewer fears of the outside world, and as adults we begin to cope with the fears we once had as children, by turning threats into opportunities.
The fears I had as a child – of snakes, of the wind, of storms at sea, of lightning – are no longer the stuff of the recurring nightmares they were when I was a child. I have learned to be cautious, to be sensible and to keep my distance, and to be in awe of God’s creation.
Most of us have recurring dreams that are vivid and that have themes that keep repeating themselves. Yet in sleep the brain can act as a filter or filing cabinet, helping us to process, deal with and put aside what we have found difficult to understand in our waking hours, or to try to find ways of dealing with our lack of confidence, feelings of inadequacy, with the ways we confuse gaining attention with receiving love, or with our needs to be accepted, affirmed and loved.
The disciples’ plight in today’s Gospel reading seems to be the working out of a constant, recurring, vivid dream of the type many of us experience at some stage: the feelings of drowning, floating and falling suddenly, being in a crowd and yet alone, calling out and not being heard, or not being recognised for who we are.
As seasoned boat-handlers, the Disciples know not to try walking on water. They know the risk of sudden storms and swells, and they know the safety of a good boat, as long as it has a good crew.
But since the early history of the Church, the boat has symbolised the Church. The bark (barque or barchetta) symbolises the Church tossed on the sea of disbelief, worldliness, and persecution but finally reaching safe harbour. Part of the imagery comes from the ark saving Noah’s family during the Flood (I Peter 3: 20-21). Christ protects the Disciples and their boat on the stormy Sea of Galilee (see also Matthew 14: 22-33; John 6 16-21). The mast forms the shape of the Cross.
It is an image that appears in Apostolic Constitutions and the writings of Tertullian and Clement of Alexandria. We still use the word nave for the main part of the church, which, architecturally often looks like an up-turned boat.
None of us should risk walking on water, or risk play stupidly in boats on the river or in choppy waters or storms. But if we are to dream dreams for the Church and for the Kingdom of God, we need to be aware that it comes at the risk of feeling we are being sold out by those we see as brothers and sisters, and risk being seen as dreamers rather than people of action by others: for our dreams may be their nightmares.
If we are going to dream dreams for the Church, for the Kingdom of God, we may need to step out of our safety zones, our comfort zones, and know that this comes with a risk warning.
And if we are going to dream dreams for the Church, for the Kingdom of God, we need to keep our eyes focussed on Christ, and to know that the Church is there to bring us on that journey.
Let us dream dreams, take risks for the Kingdom of God, step outside the box, but let us keep our eyes on Christ and remember that the boat, the Church, is essential for our journey, and let us continue to worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness.
‘He came towards them early in the morning, walking on the lake’ (Mark 6: 48) … flood waters near the River Ouse at Stony Stratford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)
Today’s Prayers (Thursday 9 January 2025):
The theme this week in ‘Pray With the World Church’, the Prayer Diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), is ‘The Melanesian Brotherhood Centenary’. This theme was introduced on Sunday with a Programme Update by Ella Sibley, Regional Manager for Europe and Oceania, USPG.
The USPG Prayer Diary today (Thursday 9 January 2025) invites us to pray:
God of peace, we pray for the Pacific Islands, asking you to bring unity, stability, and harmony to the region.
The Collect:
O God,
who by the leading of a star
manifested your only Son to the peoples of the earth:
mercifully grant that we,
who know you now by faith,
may at last behold your glory face to face;
through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord,
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.
The Post-Communion Prayer:
Lord God,
the bright splendour whom the nations seek:
may we who with the wise men have been drawn by your light
discern the glory of your presence in your Son,
the Word made flesh, Jesus Christ our Lord.
Additional Collect:
Creator of the heavens,
who led the Magi by a star
to worship the Christ-child:
guide and sustain us,
that we may find our journey’s end
in Jesus Christ our Lord.
Yesterday’s Reflection
Continued Tomorrow
‘Then he got into the boat with them and the wind ceased’ (Mark 6: 51) … the River Cam and the Backs below Magdalene Bridge in Cambridge (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)
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
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