‘Whosever will come after me, let him take up their cross and follow me’ (Matthew 16: 24) … Station V in the Stations of the Cross by Irene Ogden in Saint Julian’s Church, Norwich (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)
Patrick Comerford
We are continuing in Ordinary Time in the Church Calendar and the week began with the Seventh Sunday after Trinity (Trinity VII, 3 August 2025). Today, the calendar of the Church of England in Common Worship recalls Saint Dominic (1221), Priest, Founder of the Order of Preachers (Dominicans). Before today begins, I am taking some quiet time this morning to give thanks, for reflection, prayer and reading in these ways:
1, today’s Gospel reading;
2, a reflection on the Gospel reading;
3, a prayer from the USPG prayer diary;
4, the Collects and Post-Communion prayer of the day.
‘Let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me’ (Matthew 16: 24) … Simon of Cyrene takes up the Cross, Station 5 in the Stations of the Cross in the chapel of Saint John’s Hospital, Lichfield (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Matthew 16: 24-28 (NRSVA):
24 Then Jesus told his disciples, ‘If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. 25 For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it. 26 For what will it profit them if they gain the whole world but forfeit their life? Or what will they give in return for their life?
27 ‘For the Son of Man is to come with his angels in the glory of his Father, and then he will repay everyone for what has been done. 28 Truly I tell you, there are some standing here who will not taste death before they see the Son of Man coming in his kingdom.’
‘For what will it profit them if they gain the whole world but forfeit their life?’ (Matthew 16: 26) … torn and ragged banknotes in a tin box outside an antiques shop in Rethymnon in Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
This morning’s reflection:
In this Gospel reading at the Eucharist today (Matthew 16: 24-28), Christ and the disciples are near the villages of Caesarea Philippi, in today’s Golan Heights. Christ has both commended Peter for his faith and warned him of the danger of being a stumbling block.
To their dismay, Christ now speaks openly about his imminent death and resurrection. He then describes true discipleship: first, a disciple must follow him and renounce self-centeredness (verse 23). Those who are prepared to give even their lives for his sake and for the sake of spreading the good news will find true life verse 24). But those who opt for material well-being deny their true selves and lose out (verse 26).
There is a cost to discipleship, but the challenge to take up the Cross and to follow Christ is open to all.
God in Christ has come to enfold humanity. The cross will not stop the proclamation of the Good News, nor will it keep salvation history from breaking into the cosmos.
So often, in the face of criticism, the Christian response is either to shut down or to retreat to a different understanding of God and Jesus. But Christ tells the people that if they want to follow him on the journey, there is a cost to discipleship.
We are challenged to take up our cross and follow Christ on that journey.
Christianity cannot be reduced to an individual mental or philosophical decision. It is a journey with Christ and with not only the disciples but with the crowd, the many, who are also invited to join that journey.
If Saint Peter knew what was ahead of him, perhaps he might have been even more vocal in rebuking Christ in yesterday’s Gospel reading. But the triumph comes not in getting what we want, not in engineering things so that God gives us what we desire and wish for, so that we get a Jesus who does the things we want him to do. The triumph comes in the Resurrection.
True discipleship and true prayer mean making God’s priorities my priorities: the poor, the sick, the imprisoned, the isolated, the marginalised, the victims, the unloved. If that is difficult, nobody said that being a Christian was going to be easy, that being a Christian would not cost anything.
As the German martyr and theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer might have put it, being a disciple means having to pay the cost of discipleship. There is no cheap Christianity and there is no cheap grace.
The late Pope Francis once put it another way. Referring to discipleship and the traditional Lenten fast, he asked, ‘Do you want to fast this Lent?’ And then, he answered:
Fast from hurting words and say kind words.
Fast from sadness and be filled with gratitude.
Fast from anger and be filled with patience.
Fast from pessimism and be filled with hope.
Fast from worries and have trust in God.
Fast from complaints; contemplate simplicity.
Fast from pressures and be prayerful.
Fast from bitterness; fill your hearts with joy.
Fast from selfishness and be compassionate.
Fast from grudges and be reconciled.
Fast from words; be silent and listen.
‘Let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me’ (Matthew 16: 24) … the Stations of the Cross in Saint Gregory’s Armenian Church, Singapore (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)
Today’s Prayers (Friday 8 August 2025):
The theme this week (3 to 9 August) in Pray with the World Church, the prayer diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), is ‘Indigenous Wisdom’ (pp 24-25). This theme was introduced last Sunday with reflections from Dr Paulo Ueti, Theological Advisor and Regional Manager for the Americas and the Caribbean, USPG.
The USPG Prayer Diary today (Friday 8 August 2025) invites us to pray:
Lord, we pray that our prayers rise like incense, not just in words, but in action, as we walk the path of faith and justice.
The Collect:
Almighty God,
whose servant Dominic grew in the knowledge of your truth
and formed an order of preachers to proclaim the faith of Christ:
by your grace give to all your people a love for your word
and a longing to share the gospel,
so that the whole world may come to know you
and your Son Jesus Christ our Lord,
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.
Post-Communion Prayer:
Merciful God,
who gave such grace to your servant Dominic
that he served you with singleness of heart
and loved you above all things:
help us, whose communion with you
has been renewed in this sacrament,
to forsake all that holds us back from following Christ
and to grow into his likeness from glory to glory;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.
A Cross outside the Church of the Holy Cross in Iraklion, Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)
Yesterday’s reflection
Continued tomorrow
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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08 August 2025
07 August 2025
A new biographical study of
the ‘Rake of Rathfarnham’
reconnects with the Spanish
branch of the Comerford family
José Antonio Peña Martínez has published a new biographical study of Philip Wharton (Photographs: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Patrick Comerford
A new book is always a pleasant present that brings a smile to my face. It is even more welcome when the book is unexpected and when it is signed by the author. And the pleasures are added to when I find that I am referred to a number of times in the text and that I am fully referenced in the citations and the footnotes.
José Antonio Peña Martínez worked for most of his life in the pharmaceutical, agro-chemistry and food technology sectors in Spain. But since he retired, he has concentrated on historical research, particularly focussed on Aragon and on his home town of Llíria, 25 km north-west of Valencia.
Over the past 20 years or so, he has written and published a series of historical studies and biographies, and his latest book is a study of the infamous ‘Rake of Rathfarnham’, Philip Wharton (1698-1731), who became Duke of Wharton and Earl of Rathfarnham. Wharton inherited the Rathfarnham Castle and neighbouring estates, including Knocklyon and Scholarstown, when his parents died in 1716. His property in England included a large estate at Winchendon near Aylesbury, Buckinghamshire, about 20 miles south of Stony Stratford, where I now live.
Philip Wharton also inherited his parents’ great influence and wealth, with an estimated income of £14,000 a year. But within less than a decade, while he was still in his early 20s, he had dissipated a heritage that had passed to him from the Loftus family.
Later, Philip Wharton married his second wife, Maria Theresa Comerford, in Madrid in 1726 – just three months after the death of his sadly neglected and abandoned first wife Martha Holmes and after a very public affair with Lady Mary Montagu (1689-1762). Maria Theresa’s mother was Henrietta Comerford, her father was Colonel Henry O’Beirne, an Irish colonel in the Spanish army, and her step-father was Major-General John Comerford (ca1665-1723), of Finlough in Loughkeen, Co Tipperary, of Waterford, and of Madrid.
Despite having converted to Catholicism when he married to Maria Theresa Comerford, Wharton founded a lodge of English Freemasons in Madrid in 1728. He continued his dissolute life, and his health broke down completely in the winter of 1730. He died a destitute in the Cistercian Monastery of Saint Bernard at Poblet, near Tarragona, at the age of 32 on 31 May 1731, and was buried in the church there the next day. At his death, all his titles, apart from that of Baron Wharton, became extinct.
Alexander Pope wrote of him in his first Moral Essay, probably noting Wharton’s death, in 1731:
Wharton, the scorn and wonder of our days,
Whose ruling passion was the lust of praise …
Wharton appointed his widow as his ‘universal heiress’. But there was nothing for the widowed duchess to inherit. Some time after her mother died in Madrid in August 1747, the former Maria Theresa Comerford moved to London, where she subsisted on a small Spanish pension.
She died at her house in Golden Square, Soho, on 13 February 1777, and was buried in Old Saint Pancras churchyard. There were no children to inherit her claims to her husband’s former wealth and titles in Ireland, including the estates and castles he had disposed of at Rathfarnham Castle, Knocklyon Castle and Scholarstown House. The south Dublin estates had been returned to the Loftus family ten years earlier in a legal victory in 1767.
I have long been interested in Philip Wharton and this duchess related to the Comerford family, and I have spoken about them in lectures organised by Rathfarnham Historical Society and Knocklyon History Society about 20 years ago.
In his new biographical study of Philip Wharton, José Antonio Peña Martínez is particularly interested in his role in establishing freemasonry in Spain and in the masonic symbolism on his tomb in Poblet, one of the largest and most complete Cistercian abbeys in the world.
I am hardly equipped to critically engaged with these aspects of Philip Wharton’s life, but I am pleased that substantive portions of the genealogical details take account of my papers 20 years ago in Rathfarnham and Knocklyon and on my biographical details of the former Maria Theresa Comerford on the Comerford Genealogy site.
José Antonio Peña Martínez has been interested in history and historical figures since childhood. His first book, Edeta. Our Iberian Past (2007), was followed by Llíria in the 13th Century (2008); Martin I the Humane, a King without an Heir (2010); The Compromise of Caspe. A Historical Perspective 600 Years Later (2014); Roger de Lauria, a Titan of the Seas (2016); Saint Teresa of Jesus Jornet Ibars. Her Historical Context (2018); Charles of Trastámara and Évreux. The First Prince of Viana (2019); and The Prince Without a Kingdom (2020), and Marie Curie. La cientifica en un mundo de hombres 2022.
His latest book, a new biography, El Misterio del Masón Enterrado en Poblet (The Mystery of the Mason Buried in Poblet), was published this year. Although I am not descended from Philip Wharton or his Comerford duchess, I am related to her Comerford stepfather. That side of the Comerford family continued to be engaged in Spanish politics and life well into the late 19th century.
Perhaps the exotic and eccentric life of her half-brother’s granddaughter, Doña Josefa Eugenia Maria Francisca Comerford MacCrohon de Sales or ‘Josefina’ de Comerford) (1794-1865), who was involved in Spanish political intrigues in the early 19th century. She was given the title of Condesa de Sales and is the one figure in the history of the Comerford family in Spain who stands out as a femme fatale. She might even make a good subject for another biographical study.
My school-level Spanish helped me to read this well-researched and delightfully illustrated book. book. The author José Antonio Peña Martínez thanks me for sharing my research with him. But I have been more than delighted to be in touch again with this Spanish dimension to my family history.
Patrick Comerford
A new book is always a pleasant present that brings a smile to my face. It is even more welcome when the book is unexpected and when it is signed by the author. And the pleasures are added to when I find that I am referred to a number of times in the text and that I am fully referenced in the citations and the footnotes.
José Antonio Peña Martínez worked for most of his life in the pharmaceutical, agro-chemistry and food technology sectors in Spain. But since he retired, he has concentrated on historical research, particularly focussed on Aragon and on his home town of Llíria, 25 km north-west of Valencia.
Over the past 20 years or so, he has written and published a series of historical studies and biographies, and his latest book is a study of the infamous ‘Rake of Rathfarnham’, Philip Wharton (1698-1731), who became Duke of Wharton and Earl of Rathfarnham. Wharton inherited the Rathfarnham Castle and neighbouring estates, including Knocklyon and Scholarstown, when his parents died in 1716. His property in England included a large estate at Winchendon near Aylesbury, Buckinghamshire, about 20 miles south of Stony Stratford, where I now live.
Philip Wharton also inherited his parents’ great influence and wealth, with an estimated income of £14,000 a year. But within less than a decade, while he was still in his early 20s, he had dissipated a heritage that had passed to him from the Loftus family.
Later, Philip Wharton married his second wife, Maria Theresa Comerford, in Madrid in 1726 – just three months after the death of his sadly neglected and abandoned first wife Martha Holmes and after a very public affair with Lady Mary Montagu (1689-1762). Maria Theresa’s mother was Henrietta Comerford, her father was Colonel Henry O’Beirne, an Irish colonel in the Spanish army, and her step-father was Major-General John Comerford (ca1665-1723), of Finlough in Loughkeen, Co Tipperary, of Waterford, and of Madrid.
Despite having converted to Catholicism when he married to Maria Theresa Comerford, Wharton founded a lodge of English Freemasons in Madrid in 1728. He continued his dissolute life, and his health broke down completely in the winter of 1730. He died a destitute in the Cistercian Monastery of Saint Bernard at Poblet, near Tarragona, at the age of 32 on 31 May 1731, and was buried in the church there the next day. At his death, all his titles, apart from that of Baron Wharton, became extinct.
Alexander Pope wrote of him in his first Moral Essay, probably noting Wharton’s death, in 1731:
Wharton, the scorn and wonder of our days,
Whose ruling passion was the lust of praise …
Wharton appointed his widow as his ‘universal heiress’. But there was nothing for the widowed duchess to inherit. Some time after her mother died in Madrid in August 1747, the former Maria Theresa Comerford moved to London, where she subsisted on a small Spanish pension.
She died at her house in Golden Square, Soho, on 13 February 1777, and was buried in Old Saint Pancras churchyard. There were no children to inherit her claims to her husband’s former wealth and titles in Ireland, including the estates and castles he had disposed of at Rathfarnham Castle, Knocklyon Castle and Scholarstown House. The south Dublin estates had been returned to the Loftus family ten years earlier in a legal victory in 1767.
I have long been interested in Philip Wharton and this duchess related to the Comerford family, and I have spoken about them in lectures organised by Rathfarnham Historical Society and Knocklyon History Society about 20 years ago.
In his new biographical study of Philip Wharton, José Antonio Peña Martínez is particularly interested in his role in establishing freemasonry in Spain and in the masonic symbolism on his tomb in Poblet, one of the largest and most complete Cistercian abbeys in the world.
I am hardly equipped to critically engaged with these aspects of Philip Wharton’s life, but I am pleased that substantive portions of the genealogical details take account of my papers 20 years ago in Rathfarnham and Knocklyon and on my biographical details of the former Maria Theresa Comerford on the Comerford Genealogy site.
José Antonio Peña Martínez has been interested in history and historical figures since childhood. His first book, Edeta. Our Iberian Past (2007), was followed by Llíria in the 13th Century (2008); Martin I the Humane, a King without an Heir (2010); The Compromise of Caspe. A Historical Perspective 600 Years Later (2014); Roger de Lauria, a Titan of the Seas (2016); Saint Teresa of Jesus Jornet Ibars. Her Historical Context (2018); Charles of Trastámara and Évreux. The First Prince of Viana (2019); and The Prince Without a Kingdom (2020), and Marie Curie. La cientifica en un mundo de hombres 2022.
His latest book, a new biography, El Misterio del Masón Enterrado en Poblet (The Mystery of the Mason Buried in Poblet), was published this year. Although I am not descended from Philip Wharton or his Comerford duchess, I am related to her Comerford stepfather. That side of the Comerford family continued to be engaged in Spanish politics and life well into the late 19th century.
Perhaps the exotic and eccentric life of her half-brother’s granddaughter, Doña Josefa Eugenia Maria Francisca Comerford MacCrohon de Sales or ‘Josefina’ de Comerford) (1794-1865), who was involved in Spanish political intrigues in the early 19th century. She was given the title of Condesa de Sales and is the one figure in the history of the Comerford family in Spain who stands out as a femme fatale. She might even make a good subject for another biographical study.
My school-level Spanish helped me to read this well-researched and delightfully illustrated book. book. The author José Antonio Peña Martínez thanks me for sharing my research with him. But I have been more than delighted to be in touch again with this Spanish dimension to my family history.
Daily prayer in Ordinary Time 2025:
90, Thursday 7 August 2025
How do you see Christ? Who is Christ for you? (see Matthew 16: 13) … a damaged Byzantine fresco in the Museum of Christian Art in Iraklion, Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Patrick Comerford
We are continuing in Ordinary Time in the Church Calendar and the week began with the Seventh Sunday after Trinity (Trinity VII, 3 August 2025). Yesterday was the Feast of the Transfiguration (6 August) and the 80th anniversary of the atomic bombing of Hiroshima on 6 August 1945.
Today, the calendar of the Church of England in Common Worship recalls John Mason Neale (1818-1866), Priest and Hymn Writer. Before today begins, I am taking some quiet time this morning to give thanks, for reflection, prayer and reading in these ways:
1, today’s Gospel reading;
2, a reflection on the Gospel reading;
3, a prayer from the USPG prayer diary;
4, the Collects and Post-Communion prayer of the day.
The keys of Saint Peter seen at Saint Peter Mancroft Church in Norwich (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)
Matthew 16: 13-23 (NRSVA):
13 Now when Jesus came into the district of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, ‘Who do people say that the Son of Man is?’ 14 And they said, ‘Some say John the Baptist, but others Elijah, and still others Jeremiah or one of the prophets.’ 15 He said to them, ‘But who do you say that I am?’ 16 Simon Peter answered, ‘You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.’ 17 And Jesus answered him, ‘Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah! For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father in heaven. 18 And I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not prevail against it. 19 I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.’ 20 Then he sternly ordered the disciples not to tell anyone that he was the Messiah.
21 From that time on, Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and undergo great suffering at the hands of the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised. 22 And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him, saying, ‘God forbid it, Lord! This must never happen to you.’ 23 But he turned and said to Peter, ‘Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling-block to me; for you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.’
The Acropolis at night, standing on a large rocky outcrop above Athens (Photograph: Patrick Comerford; click on image for full-screen view)
This morning’s reflection:
This Gospel reading includes Christ’s words to the Apostle Peter: ‘I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church …’ (Matthew 16: 18, NRSVA). The debates about the interpretation of this one phrase and the following words have not only divided Christians in the past but have stopped us from discussing the full implications of a very rich passage, full of many meanings.
The reading is set in the district of Caesarea Philippi, then a new Hellenistic city west of Mount Hermon, on the slopes of what are known today as the Golan Heights. The city was built on the site of Paneas, which was known for its shrine to the god Pan.
Herod the Great built a temple of white marble there in honour of Caesar in 20 BCE. Herod’s son Philip inherited the site 18 years later and named it Caesarea Philippi, to honour Caesar as a living god and himself.
The cave at Caesarea Philippi was seen as a gate to the underworld, where fertility gods lived during the winter. The rock was filled with niches for these idols, and the water of the cave was seen as a symbol of the underworld through which the gods travelled from the world of death to the world of life.
Christ is alone with the disciples at Caesarea Philippi when he asks them who do people say that he is.
Herod thinks that Jesus is ‘John the Baptist’ (verse 14), although John had already been beheaded. Elijah was expected to return at the end of time. Jeremiah foretold rejection and suffering. Perhaps Herod is being portrayed as truly believing in the context of the cave and rock at Caesarea Philippi that the god-like figures can travel from the world of death to the world of life.
But Christ does not ask who does Herod say he is, or who do other people say he is. These are less important questions than who do the disciples say he is. Is he a prophet, a spokesman for God, a harbinger of suffering and rejection? Or, is he something more than all these?
Simon Peter offers an insight and answer of his own: ‘You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God’ (verse 16).
The Theatre of Dionysus on the southern slopes of the Acropolis … the ekklesía or assembly of the citizens Athens met twice a year (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Understanding the vocabulary
Christ acknowledges this vital insight, saying Peter is blessed (μακάριος, makários), as people in the Beatitudes are singled out as being blessed (see Matthew 5: 3-11). This is an insight that comes not from human knowledge but through revelation from God the Father (verse 17).
Then, in a word play, Christ tells Simon Peter he is Πητρος (Petros), his nickname Peter, and on this petra, rock, are the foundations of the Church (ἐκκλησία, ekklesía), the assembly in which all are equal.
The distinction between the word used for Peter, Πητρος (petros), the Greek for a small pebble, and a different Greek word, πητρα (petra), meaning a giant rock, existed in Attic Greek in the classical days, but not in Koine Greek, the Greek spoken at the time of Christ or at the time Saint Matthew’s Gospel was being writen. Πητρος (Petros) was the male name derived from a rock, while πητρα (petra) was a rock, a massive rock like Petra in Jordan.
Other words related to these concepts include λιθος (lithos), used for a small rock, a stone, or even a pebble – it is the Greek word that gives us words like lithograph and megalithic, meaning Great Stone Age – and πάγος (pagos), which in Ancient Greek means ‘big piece of rock.’
In classical Athens, the ekklesía (ἐκκλησία) was the assembly of the citizens in the democratic city state in classical Athens. The citizens of Athens met as equals twice a year at the Theatre of Dionysus, on the southern slopes of the Acropolis. The Acropolis is the highest point in Athens. It stands on an extremely rocky outcrop and on it the ancient Greeks built several significant buildings. The most famous of these is the Parthenon. This flat-topped rock rises 150 metres (490 ft) above sea level and has a surface area of about 3 hectares (7.4 acres).
The Septuagint uses this word ekklesíafor the Hebrew qahal or congregation (see Deuteronomy 4: 10, 9: 10, 18: 16, 31: 30; II Samuel 7; I Chronicles 17). The Hebrew word is still used by Jews to described the synagogue as the people or community rather than the synagogue as a building. Matthew is the only one of the four gospels to use this term.
There are only two places in the four Gospels where Christ uses the word for the Church that is found in this Gospel reading, the word εκκλησία (ekklesia): the first use of this word is in this reading (Matthew 16: 18), when Christ relates the Church to a confession of faith by the Apostle Peter, the rock-solid foundational faith of Saint Peter.
His second use of this word is not once but twice in one verse in Matthew 18: 17. It is a peculiar word for Christ to use, and yet he only speaks of the Church in these terms on these two occasions.
In total, the word εκκλησία (ekklesia) appears 114 times in the New Testament: four verses in the Acts of the Apostles, 58 times in the Pauline epistles, twice in the Letter to the Hebrews, once in the Epistle of James, three times in III John, and in 19 verses in the Book of Revelation. But Christ only uses the word twice, in these incidents in Saint Matthew’s Gospel.
Hades (ᾍδης or Ἅιδης) was the Greek god of the dead and his name had become synonymous with the underworld or the place of the dead. Death shall not destroy the Church, whether we see this as the death of Christ, the death of Peter and the other disciples, or our own, individual death.
Christ gives Peter the keys, the ability to unlock the mysteries of the Kingdom, or the symbol of authority in the Church. To ‘bind’ and ‘loose’ are rabbinical terms for forbidding and permitting in a juridical sense. They were used earlier in the story of the Canaanite or Syrophoenician woman in the district of Tyre and Sidon (Matthew 15: 21-28), a story that would normally be the Gospel reading on the Wednesday of this week, but replaced by the Feast of the Transfiguration yesterday (6 August).
Christ sternly orders the disciples not to tell anyone that he is the Messiah (verse 20).
The Hill of the Areopagos and the Agora of Athens seen from the Acropolis (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Building on the rock:
Immediately north-west of the Acropolis, the Areopagus is another prominent, but relatively smaller, rocky outcrop. In classical Athens, it functioned as the court for trying deliberate homicide. It was said Ares (Mars) was put on trial here for deicide, the murder of the son of the god Poseidon. In the play The Eumenides (458 BCE) by Aeschylus, the Areopagus is the site of the trial of Orestes for killing his mother.
Later, murderers sought shelter there in the hope of a fair hearing. There too the Athenians had an altar to the unknown god, and it was there the Apostle Paul delivered his most famous speech and sermon, in which he identified the ‘unknown god’ with ‘the God who made the world and everything in it, he who is Lord of heaven and earth’ (Acts 17: 24), for ‘in him we live and move and have our being’ (verse 28).
This is the most dramatic and fullest reported sermon or speech by Saint Paul. He quotes the Greek philosopher Epimenides, and he must have known that the location of his speech had important cultural contexts, including associations with justice, deicide and the hidden God.
The origin of the name of the Areopagus is found in the ancient Greek, πάγος (pagos), meaning a ‘big piece of rock’, in contrast to λιθος (lithos), a small rock, a stone, or even a pebble.
Breathtaking sights such as the Acropolis and the Areopagus reveal how culturally relevant it was for Christ to talk about the wise man building his house on a rock rather than on sand (Matthew 7: 24-26). Ordinary domestic buildings might have been built to last a generation or two, at most. But building on rock, building into rock, building into massive rock formations like the Acropolis, was laying the foundations for major works of cultural, political and religious significance that would last long after those who had built them had been forgotten.
And so, when Christ says to Peter in this reading that the Church is going to be built on a rock, he is talking about the foundations for a movement, an institution, a place of refuge and sanctuary, an organisation, a community that is going to have a lasting, everlasting significance.
In the past, Christians have got tied up in knots in silly arguments about this Gospel story. Some of us shy away from dealing with this story, knowing that in the past it was used to bolster not so much the claims of the Papacy, but all the packages that goes with those claims. In other words, it was argued by some in the past that the meaning of this passage was explicit: if you accepted this narrow meaning, you accepted the Papacy; if you accepted the Papacy, then you also accepted Papal infallibility, Papal claims to universal jurisdiction, and Papal teachings on celibacy, birth control, the immaculate conception and the assumption of the Virgin Mary.
And that is more than just a leap and a jump from what is being taught in this Gospel reading. But to counter those great leaps of logic, Protestant theologians in the past put forward contorted arguments about the meaning of the rock and the rock of faith in this passage. Some have tried to argue that the word used for Peter, Πητρος (Petros), is the word for a small pebble, but that faith is described with a different word, πητρα (petra), meaning a giant rock, the sort of rock on which the Greeks built the Acropolis or carved out the Areopagus.
But they were silly arguments. The distinction between these words existed in Attic Greek in the classical days, but not in the Greek spoken at the time of Christ or at the time Saint Matthew was writing his Gospel. Πητρος (Petros) was the male name derived from a rock, πητρα (petra) was a rock, a massive rock like Petra in Jordan or the rocks of the Acropolis or the Areopagus, and the word lithos (λιθος) was used for a small rock, a stone, or even a pebble.
Saint Peter is a rock, his faith is a rock, a rock that is solid enough to provide the foundations for Christ’s great work that is the Church.
The Apostle Peter and the Apostle Paul holding the church in unity … an early 18th century icon in the Museum of Christian Art in Iraklion, Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Rock-solid faith
How could Saint Peter or his faith be so great? This is the same Peter who wanted Christ to send away the desperate Canaanite woman because ‘she keeps shouting at us’ (Matthew 15: 21-28).
This is the same Peter who earlier was among the disciples who wanted to send away the crowd and let them buy food for themselves (Matthew 14: 15).
This is the same Peter who seems to get it wrong constantly. Later in this Gospel, he denies Christ three times at the Crucifixion (Matthew 26: 75). After the Resurrection, Christ has to put his question three times to Peter before Peter confesses that Christ knows everything, and Christ then calls him with the words: ‘Follow me’ (John 21: 15-19).
Saint Peter is so like me. He trips and stumbles constantly. He often gets it wrong, even later on in life. He gives the wrong answers, he comes up with silly ideas, he easily stumbles on the pebbles and stones that are strewn across the pathway of life.
But eventually, it is not his own judgment, his own failing judgment that marks him out as someone special. No. It is his faith, his rock solid faith.
Despite all his human failings, despite his often-tactless behaviour, despite all his weaknesses, he is able to say who Christ is for him. He has a simple but rock-solid faith, summarised in that simple, direct statement: ‘You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God’ (verse 16).
Peter’s faith is a faith that proves to be so rock-solid that you could say it is blessed, it is foundational. Not gritty, pebbly, pain-on-the-foot sort of faith. But the foundational faith on which you could build a house, carve out a temple or monastery, or a place to seek justice and sanctuary, rock-solid faith that provides the foundation for the Church.
There are other people in the Bible and in Jewish tradition who are commended for their rock-solid faith, including Abraham and Sarah (see Isaiah 51: 1f). It is the sort of faith that will bring people into the Church, and even the most cunning, ambitious, evil schemes, even death itself, will not be able to destroy this sort of faith (verse 18).
Throughout the Bible, as people set out on great journeys of faith, their new beginning in faith is marked by God giving them a new name: Abram becomes Abraham, Jacob becomes Israel, Saul becomes Paul, and Simon son of Jonah is blessed with a new name too as he becomes Cephas or Peter, the rock-solid, reliable guy, whose faith becomes a role model for the new community of faith, for each and every one of us.
Why would Christ pick me or you? Well, why would he pick a simple fisherman from a small provincial town?
It is not how others see us that matters. It is our faith and commitment to Christ that matters. God always sees us as he made us, in God’s own image and likeness, and loves us like that.
The faith that the Church must look to as its foundation, the faith that we must depend on, that we must live by, is not some self-determined, whimsical decision, but the faith that the Apostles had in the Christ who calls them, that rock-solid, spirit-filled faith in Christ, of which Saint Peter’s confession this morning is the most direct yet sublime and solid example.
Apostolic faith like Saint Peter’s is the foundation stone on which the Church is built, the foundation stone of the new Jerusalem, with Christ as the cornerstone (Ephesians 2: 20; Revelation 21: 14).
It does not matter that Saint Peter was capable of some dreadful gaffes and misjudgements. I am like that too … constantly.
Saint Peter and Saint Paul depicted in a fresco in the Church of the Four Martyrs in Rethymnon in Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Today’s Prayers (Thursday 7 August 2025):
The theme this week (3 to 9 August) in Pray with the World Church, the prayer diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), is ‘Indigenous Wisdom’ (pp 24-25). This theme was introduced on Sunday with reflections from Dr Paulo Ueti, Theological Advisor and Regional Manager for the Americas and the Caribbean, USPG.
The USPG Prayer Diary today (Thursday 7 August 2025) invites us to pray:
Heavenly Father, convict us of our responsibility as Christians: to safeguard creation, to stand with the oppressed, to seek justice.
The Collect:
Lord of all power and might,
the author and giver of all good things:
Graft in our hearts the love of your name,
increase in us true religion,
nourish us with all goodness,
and of your great mercy keep us in the same;
through Jesus Christ our Lord,
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.
Post-Communion Prayer:
Lord God,
whose Son is the true vine and the source of life,
ever giving himself that the world may live:
may we so receive within ourselves
the power of his death and passion
that, in his saving cup,
we may share his glory and be made perfect in his love;
for he is alive and reigns, now and for ever.
Additional Collect:
Generous God,
you give us gifts and make them grow:
though our faith is small as mustard seed,
make it grow to your glory
and the flourishing of your kingdom;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.
‘Lord God, whose Son is the true vine and the source of life’ … grapes ripening on the vine at the Hedgehog Vintage Inn in Lichfield (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Yesterday’s reflection
Continued tomorrow
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
We are continuing in Ordinary Time in the Church Calendar and the week began with the Seventh Sunday after Trinity (Trinity VII, 3 August 2025). Yesterday was the Feast of the Transfiguration (6 August) and the 80th anniversary of the atomic bombing of Hiroshima on 6 August 1945.
Today, the calendar of the Church of England in Common Worship recalls John Mason Neale (1818-1866), Priest and Hymn Writer. Before today begins, I am taking some quiet time this morning to give thanks, for reflection, prayer and reading in these ways:
1, today’s Gospel reading;
2, a reflection on the Gospel reading;
3, a prayer from the USPG prayer diary;
4, the Collects and Post-Communion prayer of the day.
The keys of Saint Peter seen at Saint Peter Mancroft Church in Norwich (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)
Matthew 16: 13-23 (NRSVA):
13 Now when Jesus came into the district of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, ‘Who do people say that the Son of Man is?’ 14 And they said, ‘Some say John the Baptist, but others Elijah, and still others Jeremiah or one of the prophets.’ 15 He said to them, ‘But who do you say that I am?’ 16 Simon Peter answered, ‘You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.’ 17 And Jesus answered him, ‘Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah! For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father in heaven. 18 And I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not prevail against it. 19 I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.’ 20 Then he sternly ordered the disciples not to tell anyone that he was the Messiah.
21 From that time on, Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and undergo great suffering at the hands of the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised. 22 And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him, saying, ‘God forbid it, Lord! This must never happen to you.’ 23 But he turned and said to Peter, ‘Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling-block to me; for you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.’
The Acropolis at night, standing on a large rocky outcrop above Athens (Photograph: Patrick Comerford; click on image for full-screen view)
This morning’s reflection:
This Gospel reading includes Christ’s words to the Apostle Peter: ‘I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church …’ (Matthew 16: 18, NRSVA). The debates about the interpretation of this one phrase and the following words have not only divided Christians in the past but have stopped us from discussing the full implications of a very rich passage, full of many meanings.
The reading is set in the district of Caesarea Philippi, then a new Hellenistic city west of Mount Hermon, on the slopes of what are known today as the Golan Heights. The city was built on the site of Paneas, which was known for its shrine to the god Pan.
Herod the Great built a temple of white marble there in honour of Caesar in 20 BCE. Herod’s son Philip inherited the site 18 years later and named it Caesarea Philippi, to honour Caesar as a living god and himself.
The cave at Caesarea Philippi was seen as a gate to the underworld, where fertility gods lived during the winter. The rock was filled with niches for these idols, and the water of the cave was seen as a symbol of the underworld through which the gods travelled from the world of death to the world of life.
Christ is alone with the disciples at Caesarea Philippi when he asks them who do people say that he is.
Herod thinks that Jesus is ‘John the Baptist’ (verse 14), although John had already been beheaded. Elijah was expected to return at the end of time. Jeremiah foretold rejection and suffering. Perhaps Herod is being portrayed as truly believing in the context of the cave and rock at Caesarea Philippi that the god-like figures can travel from the world of death to the world of life.
But Christ does not ask who does Herod say he is, or who do other people say he is. These are less important questions than who do the disciples say he is. Is he a prophet, a spokesman for God, a harbinger of suffering and rejection? Or, is he something more than all these?
Simon Peter offers an insight and answer of his own: ‘You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God’ (verse 16).
The Theatre of Dionysus on the southern slopes of the Acropolis … the ekklesía or assembly of the citizens Athens met twice a year (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Understanding the vocabulary
Christ acknowledges this vital insight, saying Peter is blessed (μακάριος, makários), as people in the Beatitudes are singled out as being blessed (see Matthew 5: 3-11). This is an insight that comes not from human knowledge but through revelation from God the Father (verse 17).
Then, in a word play, Christ tells Simon Peter he is Πητρος (Petros), his nickname Peter, and on this petra, rock, are the foundations of the Church (ἐκκλησία, ekklesía), the assembly in which all are equal.
The distinction between the word used for Peter, Πητρος (petros), the Greek for a small pebble, and a different Greek word, πητρα (petra), meaning a giant rock, existed in Attic Greek in the classical days, but not in Koine Greek, the Greek spoken at the time of Christ or at the time Saint Matthew’s Gospel was being writen. Πητρος (Petros) was the male name derived from a rock, while πητρα (petra) was a rock, a massive rock like Petra in Jordan.
Other words related to these concepts include λιθος (lithos), used for a small rock, a stone, or even a pebble – it is the Greek word that gives us words like lithograph and megalithic, meaning Great Stone Age – and πάγος (pagos), which in Ancient Greek means ‘big piece of rock.’
In classical Athens, the ekklesía (ἐκκλησία) was the assembly of the citizens in the democratic city state in classical Athens. The citizens of Athens met as equals twice a year at the Theatre of Dionysus, on the southern slopes of the Acropolis. The Acropolis is the highest point in Athens. It stands on an extremely rocky outcrop and on it the ancient Greeks built several significant buildings. The most famous of these is the Parthenon. This flat-topped rock rises 150 metres (490 ft) above sea level and has a surface area of about 3 hectares (7.4 acres).
The Septuagint uses this word ekklesíafor the Hebrew qahal or congregation (see Deuteronomy 4: 10, 9: 10, 18: 16, 31: 30; II Samuel 7; I Chronicles 17). The Hebrew word is still used by Jews to described the synagogue as the people or community rather than the synagogue as a building. Matthew is the only one of the four gospels to use this term.
There are only two places in the four Gospels where Christ uses the word for the Church that is found in this Gospel reading, the word εκκλησία (ekklesia): the first use of this word is in this reading (Matthew 16: 18), when Christ relates the Church to a confession of faith by the Apostle Peter, the rock-solid foundational faith of Saint Peter.
His second use of this word is not once but twice in one verse in Matthew 18: 17. It is a peculiar word for Christ to use, and yet he only speaks of the Church in these terms on these two occasions.
In total, the word εκκλησία (ekklesia) appears 114 times in the New Testament: four verses in the Acts of the Apostles, 58 times in the Pauline epistles, twice in the Letter to the Hebrews, once in the Epistle of James, three times in III John, and in 19 verses in the Book of Revelation. But Christ only uses the word twice, in these incidents in Saint Matthew’s Gospel.
Hades (ᾍδης or Ἅιδης) was the Greek god of the dead and his name had become synonymous with the underworld or the place of the dead. Death shall not destroy the Church, whether we see this as the death of Christ, the death of Peter and the other disciples, or our own, individual death.
Christ gives Peter the keys, the ability to unlock the mysteries of the Kingdom, or the symbol of authority in the Church. To ‘bind’ and ‘loose’ are rabbinical terms for forbidding and permitting in a juridical sense. They were used earlier in the story of the Canaanite or Syrophoenician woman in the district of Tyre and Sidon (Matthew 15: 21-28), a story that would normally be the Gospel reading on the Wednesday of this week, but replaced by the Feast of the Transfiguration yesterday (6 August).
Christ sternly orders the disciples not to tell anyone that he is the Messiah (verse 20).
The Hill of the Areopagos and the Agora of Athens seen from the Acropolis (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Building on the rock:
Immediately north-west of the Acropolis, the Areopagus is another prominent, but relatively smaller, rocky outcrop. In classical Athens, it functioned as the court for trying deliberate homicide. It was said Ares (Mars) was put on trial here for deicide, the murder of the son of the god Poseidon. In the play The Eumenides (458 BCE) by Aeschylus, the Areopagus is the site of the trial of Orestes for killing his mother.
Later, murderers sought shelter there in the hope of a fair hearing. There too the Athenians had an altar to the unknown god, and it was there the Apostle Paul delivered his most famous speech and sermon, in which he identified the ‘unknown god’ with ‘the God who made the world and everything in it, he who is Lord of heaven and earth’ (Acts 17: 24), for ‘in him we live and move and have our being’ (verse 28).
This is the most dramatic and fullest reported sermon or speech by Saint Paul. He quotes the Greek philosopher Epimenides, and he must have known that the location of his speech had important cultural contexts, including associations with justice, deicide and the hidden God.
The origin of the name of the Areopagus is found in the ancient Greek, πάγος (pagos), meaning a ‘big piece of rock’, in contrast to λιθος (lithos), a small rock, a stone, or even a pebble.
Breathtaking sights such as the Acropolis and the Areopagus reveal how culturally relevant it was for Christ to talk about the wise man building his house on a rock rather than on sand (Matthew 7: 24-26). Ordinary domestic buildings might have been built to last a generation or two, at most. But building on rock, building into rock, building into massive rock formations like the Acropolis, was laying the foundations for major works of cultural, political and religious significance that would last long after those who had built them had been forgotten.
And so, when Christ says to Peter in this reading that the Church is going to be built on a rock, he is talking about the foundations for a movement, an institution, a place of refuge and sanctuary, an organisation, a community that is going to have a lasting, everlasting significance.
In the past, Christians have got tied up in knots in silly arguments about this Gospel story. Some of us shy away from dealing with this story, knowing that in the past it was used to bolster not so much the claims of the Papacy, but all the packages that goes with those claims. In other words, it was argued by some in the past that the meaning of this passage was explicit: if you accepted this narrow meaning, you accepted the Papacy; if you accepted the Papacy, then you also accepted Papal infallibility, Papal claims to universal jurisdiction, and Papal teachings on celibacy, birth control, the immaculate conception and the assumption of the Virgin Mary.
And that is more than just a leap and a jump from what is being taught in this Gospel reading. But to counter those great leaps of logic, Protestant theologians in the past put forward contorted arguments about the meaning of the rock and the rock of faith in this passage. Some have tried to argue that the word used for Peter, Πητρος (Petros), is the word for a small pebble, but that faith is described with a different word, πητρα (petra), meaning a giant rock, the sort of rock on which the Greeks built the Acropolis or carved out the Areopagus.
But they were silly arguments. The distinction between these words existed in Attic Greek in the classical days, but not in the Greek spoken at the time of Christ or at the time Saint Matthew was writing his Gospel. Πητρος (Petros) was the male name derived from a rock, πητρα (petra) was a rock, a massive rock like Petra in Jordan or the rocks of the Acropolis or the Areopagus, and the word lithos (λιθος) was used for a small rock, a stone, or even a pebble.
Saint Peter is a rock, his faith is a rock, a rock that is solid enough to provide the foundations for Christ’s great work that is the Church.
The Apostle Peter and the Apostle Paul holding the church in unity … an early 18th century icon in the Museum of Christian Art in Iraklion, Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Rock-solid faith
How could Saint Peter or his faith be so great? This is the same Peter who wanted Christ to send away the desperate Canaanite woman because ‘she keeps shouting at us’ (Matthew 15: 21-28).
This is the same Peter who earlier was among the disciples who wanted to send away the crowd and let them buy food for themselves (Matthew 14: 15).
This is the same Peter who seems to get it wrong constantly. Later in this Gospel, he denies Christ three times at the Crucifixion (Matthew 26: 75). After the Resurrection, Christ has to put his question three times to Peter before Peter confesses that Christ knows everything, and Christ then calls him with the words: ‘Follow me’ (John 21: 15-19).
Saint Peter is so like me. He trips and stumbles constantly. He often gets it wrong, even later on in life. He gives the wrong answers, he comes up with silly ideas, he easily stumbles on the pebbles and stones that are strewn across the pathway of life.
But eventually, it is not his own judgment, his own failing judgment that marks him out as someone special. No. It is his faith, his rock solid faith.
Despite all his human failings, despite his often-tactless behaviour, despite all his weaknesses, he is able to say who Christ is for him. He has a simple but rock-solid faith, summarised in that simple, direct statement: ‘You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God’ (verse 16).
Peter’s faith is a faith that proves to be so rock-solid that you could say it is blessed, it is foundational. Not gritty, pebbly, pain-on-the-foot sort of faith. But the foundational faith on which you could build a house, carve out a temple or monastery, or a place to seek justice and sanctuary, rock-solid faith that provides the foundation for the Church.
There are other people in the Bible and in Jewish tradition who are commended for their rock-solid faith, including Abraham and Sarah (see Isaiah 51: 1f). It is the sort of faith that will bring people into the Church, and even the most cunning, ambitious, evil schemes, even death itself, will not be able to destroy this sort of faith (verse 18).
Throughout the Bible, as people set out on great journeys of faith, their new beginning in faith is marked by God giving them a new name: Abram becomes Abraham, Jacob becomes Israel, Saul becomes Paul, and Simon son of Jonah is blessed with a new name too as he becomes Cephas or Peter, the rock-solid, reliable guy, whose faith becomes a role model for the new community of faith, for each and every one of us.
Why would Christ pick me or you? Well, why would he pick a simple fisherman from a small provincial town?
It is not how others see us that matters. It is our faith and commitment to Christ that matters. God always sees us as he made us, in God’s own image and likeness, and loves us like that.
The faith that the Church must look to as its foundation, the faith that we must depend on, that we must live by, is not some self-determined, whimsical decision, but the faith that the Apostles had in the Christ who calls them, that rock-solid, spirit-filled faith in Christ, of which Saint Peter’s confession this morning is the most direct yet sublime and solid example.
Apostolic faith like Saint Peter’s is the foundation stone on which the Church is built, the foundation stone of the new Jerusalem, with Christ as the cornerstone (Ephesians 2: 20; Revelation 21: 14).
It does not matter that Saint Peter was capable of some dreadful gaffes and misjudgements. I am like that too … constantly.
Saint Peter and Saint Paul depicted in a fresco in the Church of the Four Martyrs in Rethymnon in Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Today’s Prayers (Thursday 7 August 2025):
The theme this week (3 to 9 August) in Pray with the World Church, the prayer diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), is ‘Indigenous Wisdom’ (pp 24-25). This theme was introduced on Sunday with reflections from Dr Paulo Ueti, Theological Advisor and Regional Manager for the Americas and the Caribbean, USPG.
The USPG Prayer Diary today (Thursday 7 August 2025) invites us to pray:
Heavenly Father, convict us of our responsibility as Christians: to safeguard creation, to stand with the oppressed, to seek justice.
The Collect:
Lord of all power and might,
the author and giver of all good things:
Graft in our hearts the love of your name,
increase in us true religion,
nourish us with all goodness,
and of your great mercy keep us in the same;
through Jesus Christ our Lord,
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.
Post-Communion Prayer:
Lord God,
whose Son is the true vine and the source of life,
ever giving himself that the world may live:
may we so receive within ourselves
the power of his death and passion
that, in his saving cup,
we may share his glory and be made perfect in his love;
for he is alive and reigns, now and for ever.
Additional Collect:
Generous God,
you give us gifts and make them grow:
though our faith is small as mustard seed,
make it grow to your glory
and the flourishing of your kingdom;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.
‘Lord God, whose Son is the true vine and the source of life’ … grapes ripening on the vine at the Hedgehog Vintage Inn in Lichfield (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Yesterday’s reflection
Continued tomorrow
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
06 August 2025
80 years after Hiroshima,
we are 89 seconds to midnight.
What are we to do?
Patrick Comerford
It is now 89 seconds to midnight.
Well, actually, it’s earlier in the day. I’m at the Japanese Peace Pagoda at Willen Lake in Milton Keynes. Later this evening, this place is going to mark the 80th anniversary of the atomic bombing of Hiroshima, 80 years ago, on 6 August 1945.
This year’s ceremony also recalls the bombing of Nagasaki, the nuclear disasters at Chernobyl and Fukushima, and remembers all the victims of war everywhere.
It is 80 years since the first day nuclear weapons were ever used. And it has only got worse ever since.
We are now 89 seconds to midnight.
It is a stark warning that came from the Bulletin of the Scientific Scientists as they reset the Doomsday Clock earlier this year [28 January 2025]
They set the Clock one second closer to midnight, they say, because the world is so perilously close to the precipice. A move of even a single second is an indication of extreme danger and an unmistakable warning that every second of delay in reversing course increases the probability of global disaster.
By moving the Doomsday Clock from 90 to 89 seconds to midnight, the scientists warn that we are now the closest to catastrophe we have ever been.
They list a number of alarming signals as they warn about the risk of nuclear war, including:
The war in Ukraine, which could become nuclear at any moment because of a rash decision or through accident or miscalculation.
The conflict in the Middle East is threatening at every moment to spiral out of control into a wider war.
The countries that have nuclear weapons are increasing the size and role of their arsenals, investing hundreds of billions of dollars in weapons that can destroy civilisation.
The nuclear arms control process is collapsing, and high-level contacts among nuclear powers are totally inadequate given the danger at hand.
Alarmingly, it is no longer unusual for countries without nuclear weapons to consider developing arsenals of their own – actions that would undermine longstanding non-proliferation efforts and increase the ways in which nuclear war could start.
It is now 89 seconds to midnight.
As we have seen this year, nuclear weapons are not – and have never been – a deterrent, a way of preventing an outbreak of war.
We have seen the US and Israel use stoked-up fears of nuclear capability to bomb supposed nuclear facilities in Iran. But in all this, they never acknowledge the hypocrisy of continuing to grow their own nuclear stockpiles.
We have seen India and Pakistan – two of the covert nuclear powers – move close to the brink with a border clash, and being reprimanded by Trump and other world leaders who continue to keep their fingers on their own nuclear triggers.
In addition, the scientists warn that the impacts of climate change increased in recent months as sea-level rise, global temperatures surpass previous records, other indicators surpass all records, and greenhouse gas emissions continue to rise.
The dangers they list are greatly exacerbated by a potent threat multiplier: the spread of misinformation, disinformation, and conspiracy theories degrade the communication ecosystem and increasingly blur the line between truth and falsehood.
The United States, Russia and China have the collective power to destroy civilisation. They have the prime responsibility to pull the world back from the brink. They can do so, but only if their leaders seriously begin good-faith discussions about these global.
They have to take that first step without delay. The world depends on immediate action.
It is 89 seconds to midnight.
The Cold War came to an end over 30 years ago, in 1991. During those tense years, for almost half a century after Hiroshima, we were told by the United States and the Soviet Union that nuclear weapons were only there as mutual deterrents – what was called MAD or ‘mutual assured destruction.’
But instead of things getting better since then, things get worse, and they look like getting worse.
Trump is committed to a horrendous increase in his nuclear armoury, he has sent troops onto the streets against the people of his nation, and he is silencing the voices not only of protest but of critical journalists who ask basic yet simple questions.
Putin has waged war against his nearest neighbour, even critics within the system are dealt with capriciously.
Britain has agreed to take even more US nuclear missiles on British soil, unravelling all the achievements of the women at Greenham Common in the 1980s and 1990s.
All the nuclear powers, instead of using their power for good, are complicit in the use of starvation, hunger and famine as weapons of mass destruction in the Gaza Strip and the sectarian slaughters in Syria.
We are frozen in fear, a fear that is more immobilising than the most freezing days of the Cold War.
And we are 89 seconds to midnight.
What are we to do?
What are people of faith to do?
It is easy to despair when we see so-called evangelicals in America, dazzled and enthralled by the Trump regime, unquestioning in their blind allegiance, uncritical in their response, falling down before the idolatrous altar of a god-less and fear-less regime.
It is easy to despair when we see the leadership of the Russian Orthodox Church, concocting theological positions that justify their unquestioning and blind allegiance to the Putin state, uncritical in their response, falling down before the idolatrous altar of a god-less and fear-less regime.
It is sad when a retired Bishop of the Church of England sees fit to take up almost a full page in the Church Times close to this anniversary to twist the ‘just war’ theory to justify the continuing stockpiling of nuclear weapons (see the Church Times, 25 July 2025, p 17).
Today is the Feast of the Transfiguration. The bright light of the Transfiguration is a very different light to the atomic flash that consumed Hiroshima 80 years ago.
In today’s Gospel reading (Luke 9: 28-36), Peter, James and John, instead of being transfigured, are transfixed. They are terrified.
They want to remain frozen in the present or even in the past, building memorials instead of engaging in action.
But Jesus leads them back down the mountain, and leads them into action. Immediately after, he heals, he rebukes evil (verse 43-47, 49-50), he shows how valuable the children and the voiceless are (46-48), he calls us to Costly Discipleship (verses 43-45, 57-62), and he actually rebukes and condemns indiscriminate violence against civilian populations and people we are in danger of seeing as our ideological opponents, as enemies (verses 51-56).
We are 89 seconds to midnight.
But we have hope. We are called to action. We are called to speak up for the voiceless and those seen as having no value; we must rebuke violence and chastise the powerful.
80 years after Hiroshima, we are 89 seconds to midnight.
But let us not be transfixed or be immobilised. Christ calls us to go back down that mountain to act, and to be living signs of the Kingdom.
We are 89 seconds to midnight.
But we are children of light.
(Revd Canon Professor) Patrick Comerford is a former President of the Irish Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament (CND), a former chair of Christian CND, and an Anglican priest. This reflection was prepared for an online vigil on Hiroshima Day 6 August 2025, organised by Christian CND and the Anglican Pacifist Fellowship.
Daily prayer in Ordinary Time 2025:
89, Wednesday 6 August 2025,
The Transfiguration
The Transfiguration depicted in the Church of the Transfiguration in Piskopianó, in the hills above Hersonissos in Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford; click on image for full-screen viewing)
Patrick Comerford
We are continuing in Ordinary Time in the Church Calendar and the week began with the Seventh Sunday after Trinity (Trinity VII). The Church Calendar today celebrates the Feast of the Transfiguration (6 August 2025).
Today also marks the 80th anniversary of the atomic bombing of Hiroshima on 6 August 1945. To mark this auspicious anniversary, I have recorded contributions to two seminars or gatherings today, one organised by Christian CND and the Anglican Pacifist Fellowship, the other in Dublin organised by the Peace and Neutrality Alliance.
Later this evening, Charlotte and I plan to take part in the annual Hiroshima Day commemorations at the Japanese Peace Pagoda beside Willen Lake in Milton Keynes, a ceremony we have been attending for the past four years.
The Anglican Pacifist Fellowship and Christian CND are marking Hiroshima Day with an online vigil at 8 pm this evening.
I visited Hiroshima when I was a student in Japan in 1979, and for over 40 years I took part in Irish CND’s Hiroshima Day commemorations in Merrion Park, Dublin. During the day, I shall be remembering the many victims of the Hiroshima and the survivors. But, before today begins, I am taking some quiet time this morning to give thanks, for reflection, prayer and reading in these ways:
1, today’s Gospel reading;
2, a reflection on the Gospel reading;
3, a prayer from the USPG prayer diary;
4, the Collects and Post-Communion prayer of the day.
The Church of the Transfiguration in Piskopianó in the mountains above Hersonissos in Crete was established in 2002, completed in 2008 and dedicated in 2014 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Luke 9: 28-36 (NRSVA):
28 Now about eight days after these sayings Jesus took with him Peter and John and James, and went up on the mountain to pray. 29 And while he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white. 30 Suddenly they saw two men, Moses and Elijah, talking to him. 31 They appeared in glory and were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem. 32 Now Peter and his companions were weighed down with sleep; but since they had stayed awake, they saw his glory and the two men who stood with him. 33 Just as they were leaving him, Peter said to Jesus, ‘Master, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah’ – not knowing what he said. 34 While he was saying this, a cloud came and overshadowed them; and they were terrified as they entered the cloud. 35 Then from the cloud came a voice that said, ‘This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!’ 36 When the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. And they kept silent and in those days told no one any of the things they had seen.
The icon of the Transfiguration in the Greek Orthodox Church in Stony Stratford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)
This morning’s reflection:
Earlier this year, I was back in Crete, staying in Rethymnon for the Greek celebrations of Easter. During the previous year, I managed also to return to the village of Piskopianó in the hillside above Hersonissos, which I have known for more than 30 years, since the mid-1990s.
The new village church in Piskopianó has been renamed the Church of the Transfiguration was built in 2002-2008 and was dedicated in 2014. A fresco of the Transfiguration in the church shows, on the left, Christ leading the three disciples, Peter, James and John, up the mountain; in the centre, these three disciples are stumbling and falling as they witness and experience the Transfiguration; and then, to the right, Christ is leading these three back down the side of the mountain.
In other words, we are invited to see the Transfiguration not as a static moment but as a dynamic event. It is a living event in which we are invited to move from all in the past that weighs us down, to experience the full life that Christ offers us today, and to bring this into how we live our lives as Disciples in the future, a future that begins here and now.
The Transfiguration is both an event and a process. The original Greek word for Transfiguration in the Gospels is μεταμόρφωσις (metamorphosis), which means ‘to progress from one state of being to another.’ Consider the metamorphosis of the chrysalis into the butterfly. Saint Paul uses the same word (μεταμόρφωσις) when he describes how the Christian is to be transfigured, transformed, into the image of Christ (II Corinthians 3: 18).
This metamorphosis invites us into the event of becoming what we have been created to be. This is what Orthodox writers call deification. Transfiguration is a profound change, by God, in Christ, through the Spirit. And so, the Transfiguration reveals to us our ultimate destiny as Christians, the ultimate destiny of all people and all creation – to be transformed and glorified by the majestic splendour of God himself.
The Transfiguration points to Christ’s great and glorious Second Coming and the fulfilment of the Kingdom of God, when all of creation shall be transfigured and filled with light.
According to Saint Gregory Palamas, the light of the Transfiguration ‘is not something that comes to be and then vanishes.’ It not only prefigures the eternal blessedness that all Christians look forward to, but also the Kingdom of God already revealed, realised and come.
The Transfiguration is described in the three Synoptic Gospels (see Matthew 17: 1-9; Mark 9: 2-8; Luke 9: 28-36), and all three accounts are very similar in wording.
The Transfiguration is an encounter with God as the Trinity; it is a reminder with the presence of Moses and Elijah that Christ is the fulfilment of the Law and the Prophets; it is a meeting of past, present and future; and it is a reminder of how frail is our humanity in the responses of the three Disciples present, Peter, James and John.
The Transfiguration is a reminder that God has created us in God’s image and likeness, that in Christ’s Incarnation, God took on our image and likeness, and that now we are called once again to take on the image and likeness of God.
In a lecture in Cambridge many years ago [2011], I heard the late Metropolitan Kallistos [Ware], who was the pre-eminent Orthodox theologian in England, speak of the Transfiguration as a disclosure not only of what God is but of what we are. It reminds us of our beginning, but also reminds us of the possibilities and the potentials of what it is to become like God once again.
But is the response of the disciples to the Transfiguration one that we should imitate or emulate?
As they hear the voice of God, they fall down in terror, they are overcome by fear, they are made speechless.
They are immobilised and when they think of acting, look at what they want to do: they want to put up three booths, or tents, or dwelling places, in which they can keep Jesus and Moses and Elijah. It is as if, frightened of the new, they want to fall back on the old certainties.
It is as if they want to contain God, to capture God, to keep God in a place where they can be assured of the old certainties, to turn God into a god that they can contain, capture and control. They want to put God in a box, to keep God in a box.
And, so often, instead of wanting to be in the image and likeness of God, people want God to be in our image and likeness, doing our bidding rather than listening to what God wants of us.
Seeking to capture God, to make God a captive and to control God, are strong religious instincts throughout history. In the 20th century, Hitler used the German Churches to control the people of Germany. In more recent years, the simple faith of many American people has been hijacked to support extreme politics in a land that once prided itself on the separation of state and religion.
This is what Professor Rachel S Mikva of Chicago Theological Seminary describes as ‘dangerous religious ideas’ (Dangerous Religious Ideas: The Deep Roots of Self-Critical Faith in Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, Penguin, 2020).
In an ‘Opinion’ column for USA Today in the wake of Donald Trump’s attempt to storm the Capitol in Washington on 6 January 2021, she argued that ‘Religion is a dangerous business.’ In the response to the insurrection and violence in Washington, she tried to go beyond the revulsion all of us must feel when white Christian nationalism turns violent, and she drew attention to the ‘substantial number of Christians who plan to take the country for Jesus another way.’
The Christian right is ‘distorting the very meaning of religious freedom,’ she wrote. There is the obvious danger we have seen recently, with extremists who call themselves Christians ‘ready to bring on the apocalypse.’
But she warns of ‘a more resilient threat’ posed by people who claim the mantle of being Christians and who are ‘embedded throughout the governing institutions in the US – courts, military, legislatures, agencies and the police.’ In her words, they pose a real threat ‘to religious pluralism in the United States.’
She argued cogently for the need for ‘consciousness of the vital self-critical dimensions of faith,’ and said: ‘Whatever one’s spiritual life stance, we are choosing in every moment whether its power will be wielded for harm or for blessing.’
Power for harm; or power for blessing.
Do we want to keep God in a box as a power for harm; or do we really want to see God being God, and empowering us to be a power for blessing in the world?
I see this as the first great challenge posed by the Transfiguration.
And the second is like it: to see humanity as Christ in the Transfiguration would see us and would have us see each other.
Do I, so often, put people in a box in a way that denies they are made in the image and likeness of God? That they are called to become, once again, like God in Christ … what the Orthodox call ‘deification’ …?
Every time I dismiss someone because of their social background, where they were born, their gender, sexuality, ethnicity or parentage, I am making these differences more important than the way God sees them: made in God’s image and likeness, and holding, embodying the light of God in Christ.
Because those characteristics, those traits, are not self-chosen; they come at birth, we do not ask for them, you might say they are God-given. For, indeed, God sees us in God’s own image and likeness, God sees in each one of us the potential to reflect the light of Christ in the Transfiguration.
Let’s not box God in, hidden away under a booth or in a tent. Let God be God, and let’s stop trying to control him by using him to our political and social advantage.
Let’s stop categorising people so we marginalise them instead of seeing them in God’s image and likeness.
For, when we love God and love others, we see the light of God in them and, hopefully, they see the light of God in us.
When she was the guest chaplain in the House of Representatives in 1995, Rabbi Rachel Mikva included these thoughts in her prayers:
However passionately we may cling to our vision of truth,
we must never fail to recognise your image, God,
reflected in the face of the other …
Ultimately, we stand before you,
naked of power or possessions,
seeking only to understand your will
and do it with a whole heart …
God, we pray that our words and our deeds
may be for Your sake,
bringing healing to our world
and wholeness to all those whose lives we touch.
Amen. אָמֵן׃
Peter, John and James … a detail in the icon of the Transfiguration in the iconostasis in the Greek Orthodox Church in Stony Stratford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Today’s Prayers (Wednesday 6 August 2025, The Transfiguration):
The theme this week (3 to 9 August) in Pray with the World Church, the prayer diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), is ‘Indigenous Wisdom’ (pp 24-25). This theme was introduced on Sunday with reflections from Dr Paulo Ueti, Theological Advisor and Regional Manager for the Americas and the Caribbean, USPG.
The USPG Prayer Diary today (Wednesday 6 August 2025, The Transfiguration) invites us to pray:
Lord God, on the mountain you revealed your glory and the Father’s voice declared you, his Son. Shine your light into our hearts, transform us by your presence, and lead us to reflect your love in the world.
An icon of the Transfiguration in the Church of the Transfiguration in Piskopianó (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
The Collect:
Father in heaven,
whose Son Jesus Christ was wonderfully transfigured
before chosen witnesses upon the holy mountain,
and spoke of the exodus he would accomplish at Jerusalem:
give us strength so to hear his voice and bear our cross
that in the world to come we may see him as he is;
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.
The Post Communion Prayer:
Holy God,
we see your glory in the face of Jesus Christ:
may we who are partakers at his table
reflect his life in word and deed,
that all the world may know his power to change and save.
This we ask through Jesus Christ our Lord.
The chapel on the highest peak on Mount Athos, at 2,033 metres, is dedicated to the Transfiguration (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Yesterday’s reflection
Continued tomorrow
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 Monastery of Great Meteoro, the largest of the monasteries at Meteora, is dedicated to the Transfiguration (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Patrick Comerford
We are continuing in Ordinary Time in the Church Calendar and the week began with the Seventh Sunday after Trinity (Trinity VII). The Church Calendar today celebrates the Feast of the Transfiguration (6 August 2025).
Today also marks the 80th anniversary of the atomic bombing of Hiroshima on 6 August 1945. To mark this auspicious anniversary, I have recorded contributions to two seminars or gatherings today, one organised by Christian CND and the Anglican Pacifist Fellowship, the other in Dublin organised by the Peace and Neutrality Alliance.
Later this evening, Charlotte and I plan to take part in the annual Hiroshima Day commemorations at the Japanese Peace Pagoda beside Willen Lake in Milton Keynes, a ceremony we have been attending for the past four years.
The Anglican Pacifist Fellowship and Christian CND are marking Hiroshima Day with an online vigil at 8 pm this evening.
I visited Hiroshima when I was a student in Japan in 1979, and for over 40 years I took part in Irish CND’s Hiroshima Day commemorations in Merrion Park, Dublin. During the day, I shall be remembering the many victims of the Hiroshima and the survivors. But, before today begins, I am taking some quiet time this morning to give thanks, for reflection, prayer and reading in these ways:
1, today’s Gospel reading;
2, a reflection on the Gospel reading;
3, a prayer from the USPG prayer diary;
4, the Collects and Post-Communion prayer of the day.
The Church of the Transfiguration in Piskopianó in the mountains above Hersonissos in Crete was established in 2002, completed in 2008 and dedicated in 2014 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Luke 9: 28-36 (NRSVA):
28 Now about eight days after these sayings Jesus took with him Peter and John and James, and went up on the mountain to pray. 29 And while he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white. 30 Suddenly they saw two men, Moses and Elijah, talking to him. 31 They appeared in glory and were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem. 32 Now Peter and his companions were weighed down with sleep; but since they had stayed awake, they saw his glory and the two men who stood with him. 33 Just as they were leaving him, Peter said to Jesus, ‘Master, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah’ – not knowing what he said. 34 While he was saying this, a cloud came and overshadowed them; and they were terrified as they entered the cloud. 35 Then from the cloud came a voice that said, ‘This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!’ 36 When the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. And they kept silent and in those days told no one any of the things they had seen.
The icon of the Transfiguration in the Greek Orthodox Church in Stony Stratford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)
This morning’s reflection:
Earlier this year, I was back in Crete, staying in Rethymnon for the Greek celebrations of Easter. During the previous year, I managed also to return to the village of Piskopianó in the hillside above Hersonissos, which I have known for more than 30 years, since the mid-1990s.
The new village church in Piskopianó has been renamed the Church of the Transfiguration was built in 2002-2008 and was dedicated in 2014. A fresco of the Transfiguration in the church shows, on the left, Christ leading the three disciples, Peter, James and John, up the mountain; in the centre, these three disciples are stumbling and falling as they witness and experience the Transfiguration; and then, to the right, Christ is leading these three back down the side of the mountain.
In other words, we are invited to see the Transfiguration not as a static moment but as a dynamic event. It is a living event in which we are invited to move from all in the past that weighs us down, to experience the full life that Christ offers us today, and to bring this into how we live our lives as Disciples in the future, a future that begins here and now.
The Transfiguration is both an event and a process. The original Greek word for Transfiguration in the Gospels is μεταμόρφωσις (metamorphosis), which means ‘to progress from one state of being to another.’ Consider the metamorphosis of the chrysalis into the butterfly. Saint Paul uses the same word (μεταμόρφωσις) when he describes how the Christian is to be transfigured, transformed, into the image of Christ (II Corinthians 3: 18).
This metamorphosis invites us into the event of becoming what we have been created to be. This is what Orthodox writers call deification. Transfiguration is a profound change, by God, in Christ, through the Spirit. And so, the Transfiguration reveals to us our ultimate destiny as Christians, the ultimate destiny of all people and all creation – to be transformed and glorified by the majestic splendour of God himself.
The Transfiguration points to Christ’s great and glorious Second Coming and the fulfilment of the Kingdom of God, when all of creation shall be transfigured and filled with light.
According to Saint Gregory Palamas, the light of the Transfiguration ‘is not something that comes to be and then vanishes.’ It not only prefigures the eternal blessedness that all Christians look forward to, but also the Kingdom of God already revealed, realised and come.
The Transfiguration is described in the three Synoptic Gospels (see Matthew 17: 1-9; Mark 9: 2-8; Luke 9: 28-36), and all three accounts are very similar in wording.
The Transfiguration is an encounter with God as the Trinity; it is a reminder with the presence of Moses and Elijah that Christ is the fulfilment of the Law and the Prophets; it is a meeting of past, present and future; and it is a reminder of how frail is our humanity in the responses of the three Disciples present, Peter, James and John.
The Transfiguration is a reminder that God has created us in God’s image and likeness, that in Christ’s Incarnation, God took on our image and likeness, and that now we are called once again to take on the image and likeness of God.
In a lecture in Cambridge many years ago [2011], I heard the late Metropolitan Kallistos [Ware], who was the pre-eminent Orthodox theologian in England, speak of the Transfiguration as a disclosure not only of what God is but of what we are. It reminds us of our beginning, but also reminds us of the possibilities and the potentials of what it is to become like God once again.
But is the response of the disciples to the Transfiguration one that we should imitate or emulate?
As they hear the voice of God, they fall down in terror, they are overcome by fear, they are made speechless.
They are immobilised and when they think of acting, look at what they want to do: they want to put up three booths, or tents, or dwelling places, in which they can keep Jesus and Moses and Elijah. It is as if, frightened of the new, they want to fall back on the old certainties.
It is as if they want to contain God, to capture God, to keep God in a place where they can be assured of the old certainties, to turn God into a god that they can contain, capture and control. They want to put God in a box, to keep God in a box.
And, so often, instead of wanting to be in the image and likeness of God, people want God to be in our image and likeness, doing our bidding rather than listening to what God wants of us.
Seeking to capture God, to make God a captive and to control God, are strong religious instincts throughout history. In the 20th century, Hitler used the German Churches to control the people of Germany. In more recent years, the simple faith of many American people has been hijacked to support extreme politics in a land that once prided itself on the separation of state and religion.
This is what Professor Rachel S Mikva of Chicago Theological Seminary describes as ‘dangerous religious ideas’ (Dangerous Religious Ideas: The Deep Roots of Self-Critical Faith in Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, Penguin, 2020).
In an ‘Opinion’ column for USA Today in the wake of Donald Trump’s attempt to storm the Capitol in Washington on 6 January 2021, she argued that ‘Religion is a dangerous business.’ In the response to the insurrection and violence in Washington, she tried to go beyond the revulsion all of us must feel when white Christian nationalism turns violent, and she drew attention to the ‘substantial number of Christians who plan to take the country for Jesus another way.’
The Christian right is ‘distorting the very meaning of religious freedom,’ she wrote. There is the obvious danger we have seen recently, with extremists who call themselves Christians ‘ready to bring on the apocalypse.’
But she warns of ‘a more resilient threat’ posed by people who claim the mantle of being Christians and who are ‘embedded throughout the governing institutions in the US – courts, military, legislatures, agencies and the police.’ In her words, they pose a real threat ‘to religious pluralism in the United States.’
She argued cogently for the need for ‘consciousness of the vital self-critical dimensions of faith,’ and said: ‘Whatever one’s spiritual life stance, we are choosing in every moment whether its power will be wielded for harm or for blessing.’
Power for harm; or power for blessing.
Do we want to keep God in a box as a power for harm; or do we really want to see God being God, and empowering us to be a power for blessing in the world?
I see this as the first great challenge posed by the Transfiguration.
And the second is like it: to see humanity as Christ in the Transfiguration would see us and would have us see each other.
Do I, so often, put people in a box in a way that denies they are made in the image and likeness of God? That they are called to become, once again, like God in Christ … what the Orthodox call ‘deification’ …?
Every time I dismiss someone because of their social background, where they were born, their gender, sexuality, ethnicity or parentage, I am making these differences more important than the way God sees them: made in God’s image and likeness, and holding, embodying the light of God in Christ.
Because those characteristics, those traits, are not self-chosen; they come at birth, we do not ask for them, you might say they are God-given. For, indeed, God sees us in God’s own image and likeness, God sees in each one of us the potential to reflect the light of Christ in the Transfiguration.
Let’s not box God in, hidden away under a booth or in a tent. Let God be God, and let’s stop trying to control him by using him to our political and social advantage.
Let’s stop categorising people so we marginalise them instead of seeing them in God’s image and likeness.
For, when we love God and love others, we see the light of God in them and, hopefully, they see the light of God in us.
When she was the guest chaplain in the House of Representatives in 1995, Rabbi Rachel Mikva included these thoughts in her prayers:
However passionately we may cling to our vision of truth,
we must never fail to recognise your image, God,
reflected in the face of the other …
Ultimately, we stand before you,
naked of power or possessions,
seeking only to understand your will
and do it with a whole heart …
God, we pray that our words and our deeds
may be for Your sake,
bringing healing to our world
and wholeness to all those whose lives we touch.
Amen. אָמֵן׃
Peter, John and James … a detail in the icon of the Transfiguration in the iconostasis in the Greek Orthodox Church in Stony Stratford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Today’s Prayers (Wednesday 6 August 2025, The Transfiguration):
The theme this week (3 to 9 August) in Pray with the World Church, the prayer diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), is ‘Indigenous Wisdom’ (pp 24-25). This theme was introduced on Sunday with reflections from Dr Paulo Ueti, Theological Advisor and Regional Manager for the Americas and the Caribbean, USPG.
The USPG Prayer Diary today (Wednesday 6 August 2025, The Transfiguration) invites us to pray:
Lord God, on the mountain you revealed your glory and the Father’s voice declared you, his Son. Shine your light into our hearts, transform us by your presence, and lead us to reflect your love in the world.
An icon of the Transfiguration in the Church of the Transfiguration in Piskopianó (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
The Collect:
Father in heaven,
whose Son Jesus Christ was wonderfully transfigured
before chosen witnesses upon the holy mountain,
and spoke of the exodus he would accomplish at Jerusalem:
give us strength so to hear his voice and bear our cross
that in the world to come we may see him as he is;
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.
The Post Communion Prayer:
Holy God,
we see your glory in the face of Jesus Christ:
may we who are partakers at his table
reflect his life in word and deed,
that all the world may know his power to change and save.
This we ask through Jesus Christ our Lord.
The chapel on the highest peak on Mount Athos, at 2,033 metres, is dedicated to the Transfiguration (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Yesterday’s reflection
Continued tomorrow
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 Monastery of Great Meteoro, the largest of the monasteries at Meteora, is dedicated to the Transfiguration (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
05 August 2025
Prebendal House in Aylesbury is
a reminder of church estates
and of an 18th century radical MP
A glimps of Prebendal House and its communal gardens from Parson’s Fee, near Saint Mary’s Church, Aylesbury (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Patrick Comerford
I was in Aylesbury for an hour or two the other day, more by chance than intention. But the town centre is always a charming place to visit with its timber-framed buildings, cobbled streets and an impressive mediaeval parish church, Saint Mary’s.
Many people are a little surprised that Aylesbury is the county town of Buckinghamshire, and not Buckinghamshire – or, perhaps, even Milton Keynes. Names can still be deceptive: Buckingham Hospital is in Buckingham, but the Royal Buckinghamshire Hospital is in Aylesbury.
The name Aylesbury is thought to be derived from ‘Aigle’s Burgh’, meaning hill town or fort. A number of pre-Roman settlements in the area are believed to date back to ca 650 BCE, and Aylesbury later grew up inside these defences.
There has been a church on the site of Saint Mary’s Church since the 12th century. It was extended throughout the 14th and 15th centuries, and the 15th century perpendicular west window is still in situ. The church was completely restored by Sir Gilbert Scott (1811-1878) in the 19th century.
Aylesbury was made the new county town of Buckinghamshire by Henry VIII in 1529. At the time, Aylesbury Manor was owned by Thomas Boleyn, the father of Anne Boleyn, and it was said the king made the change to buy the approval of the Boylen family. The town was given a charter and borough status in 1554 by Mary Tudor to show her appreciation for its loyalty when Aylesbury declared her queen against the competing claims of Lady Jane Grey.
The town played a key part in the English Civil War. The Battle of Aylesbury was led by Oliver Cromwell’s cousin John Hampden, and was fought on nearby Holman’s Bridge in 1642.
As the centre of local government, a starting a period of building development in Aylesbury in the late 18th century, with many civic and residential buildings.
Prebendal House on a street named Parson’s Fee is associated with the Prebendaries of Aylesbury (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Walking through the cobbled streets to the south and west of Saint Mary’s Church, I glimpsed Prebendal House, a large Grade II*-listed Georgian house set in communal gardens in a private enclave at the end of a street named Parson’s Fee. This is a charming street with timber-framed cottages and runs between Castle Street and Church Street, within the historic Conservation Area of the old town.
Aylesbury remained a feudal manor until the 13th century when new smaller landholdings were formed. These new small manors created by royal grant were often known as fees: Aylesbury had several fees, including the Castle Fee held by the principal lord of the manor of Aylesbury; Otterer’s Fee, granted to the king’s otter hunter; and Church Fee, endowed to the church. Aylesbury had a small degree of autonomy as a prebend of the Diocese of Lincoln, and the Church Fee, which was controlled by the priest of Aylesbury, and Church Fee came to be known as Parson’s Fee.
As its name indicates, Prebendal House was originally associated with the church, and it has later associations with figures of national importance. A Saxon nunnery may have stood on the site in an earlier age. The prebendaries of Aylesbury can be traced back to Ralph in 1092, when the prebend of Aylesbury was attached to the See of Lincoln.
However, the first record of Prebendal House dates from 1656, when it was a stone and timber building. The house was built in several phases, and elements from each phase survive within its fabric. Many of the original interior spaces retain their period fixtures and fittings. The cellars seem to have survived from a 17th century house that was the precursor to the 18th century house.
The present house was built in the early 18th century and extensively modified by its most notable resident, John Wilkes (1725-1797), MP for Aylesbury in 1757-1764. Wilkes came into possession of an estate and income in Buckinghamshire in 1747 when he married Mary Meade (1715-1784) and he lived in Prebendal House from the mid-1750s until he died.
Wilkes was a radical politician and spent time in the Tower of London in 1763 when he was accused of seditious libel after he published inflammatory pamphlets attacking George III and prominent members of his administration. He was released after 15,000 people marched the streets of London in the ‘Wilkes and Liberty’ marches.
Wilkes is remembered as a defender of freedom of speech and personal liberties, and is known for his charitable donations. He was associated with Sir Francis Dashwood of West Wycombe and the infamous Hell Fire Club at West Wycombe Park and the Hell Fire Caves.
The entrance gateway to the Prebendal House is a Grade II listed building (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Prebendal House is a handsome stuccoed building, and the entrance has grand classical proportions with a portico of ionic columns. The house had been a school and then offices before it was converted into apartments in recent years, but most of its original fabric has been maintained.
A communal hallway with a cantilevered staircase and intricately carved panelling leads to the second floor of the house. The interior features include generous ceiling heights, arts and crafts fireplaces, far-reaching views over Saint Mary’s Church and out to the surrounding countryside and the Chiltern Hills.
Access to the house is by a brick-built gatehouse, incorporated by John Wilkes during his time at the house. The communal gardens of about 1.25 acres include ancient trees and mature planting.
Prebendal House was a school before being converted into apartments (Photograph courtesy Chancellors, Aylesbury)
Nearby, at Prebendal Court to the north of Prebendal House and facing onto Nelson Terreace, a plaque placed by the Aylesbury Society on an apartment block in the development recalls how an Iron Age hillfort ditch dating from 650 BCE was excavated on the site in 1985.
The findings suggest the site of Prebendal House represents the southern continuation of the western line of the Iron Age and later Saxon defensive circuit. The remaining deposits and structures were associated with the construction of Prebendal House and the landscaping of the gardens from the 18th century onwards.
As for the Prebendaries of Aylesbury, they continued to hold office for centuries. They included Roger de Wenesham who became Bishop of Lichfield and died in 1257.
Percival de Lavinia, who was Prebendary of Aylesbury in 1285, was also the Archdeacon of Buckingham in 1270. His brother Ottobuono de’ Fieschi became Pope as Pope Adrian V on 11 July 1276, but died on 18 August 1276 before even being ordained priest. In the Divine Comedy, Dante meets Adrian V in the fifth terrace of Purgatorio, where Adrian V is being cleansed of the vice of avarice.
John Hacket (1608-1670), who became Prebendary of Aylesbury in 1623, was appointed Bishop of Lichfield after the restoration of Charles II, and was responsible for rebuilding Lichfield Cathedral.
Since John Pretyman died in 1842, the Prebendaries of Aylesbury have been honorary canons. But for many centuries before that they had no associations with Prebendal House.
A plaque at Prebendal Court recalls an Iron Age hillfort ditch (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Patrick Comerford
I was in Aylesbury for an hour or two the other day, more by chance than intention. But the town centre is always a charming place to visit with its timber-framed buildings, cobbled streets and an impressive mediaeval parish church, Saint Mary’s.
Many people are a little surprised that Aylesbury is the county town of Buckinghamshire, and not Buckinghamshire – or, perhaps, even Milton Keynes. Names can still be deceptive: Buckingham Hospital is in Buckingham, but the Royal Buckinghamshire Hospital is in Aylesbury.
The name Aylesbury is thought to be derived from ‘Aigle’s Burgh’, meaning hill town or fort. A number of pre-Roman settlements in the area are believed to date back to ca 650 BCE, and Aylesbury later grew up inside these defences.
There has been a church on the site of Saint Mary’s Church since the 12th century. It was extended throughout the 14th and 15th centuries, and the 15th century perpendicular west window is still in situ. The church was completely restored by Sir Gilbert Scott (1811-1878) in the 19th century.
Aylesbury was made the new county town of Buckinghamshire by Henry VIII in 1529. At the time, Aylesbury Manor was owned by Thomas Boleyn, the father of Anne Boleyn, and it was said the king made the change to buy the approval of the Boylen family. The town was given a charter and borough status in 1554 by Mary Tudor to show her appreciation for its loyalty when Aylesbury declared her queen against the competing claims of Lady Jane Grey.
The town played a key part in the English Civil War. The Battle of Aylesbury was led by Oliver Cromwell’s cousin John Hampden, and was fought on nearby Holman’s Bridge in 1642.
As the centre of local government, a starting a period of building development in Aylesbury in the late 18th century, with many civic and residential buildings.
Prebendal House on a street named Parson’s Fee is associated with the Prebendaries of Aylesbury (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Walking through the cobbled streets to the south and west of Saint Mary’s Church, I glimpsed Prebendal House, a large Grade II*-listed Georgian house set in communal gardens in a private enclave at the end of a street named Parson’s Fee. This is a charming street with timber-framed cottages and runs between Castle Street and Church Street, within the historic Conservation Area of the old town.
Aylesbury remained a feudal manor until the 13th century when new smaller landholdings were formed. These new small manors created by royal grant were often known as fees: Aylesbury had several fees, including the Castle Fee held by the principal lord of the manor of Aylesbury; Otterer’s Fee, granted to the king’s otter hunter; and Church Fee, endowed to the church. Aylesbury had a small degree of autonomy as a prebend of the Diocese of Lincoln, and the Church Fee, which was controlled by the priest of Aylesbury, and Church Fee came to be known as Parson’s Fee.
As its name indicates, Prebendal House was originally associated with the church, and it has later associations with figures of national importance. A Saxon nunnery may have stood on the site in an earlier age. The prebendaries of Aylesbury can be traced back to Ralph in 1092, when the prebend of Aylesbury was attached to the See of Lincoln.
However, the first record of Prebendal House dates from 1656, when it was a stone and timber building. The house was built in several phases, and elements from each phase survive within its fabric. Many of the original interior spaces retain their period fixtures and fittings. The cellars seem to have survived from a 17th century house that was the precursor to the 18th century house.
The present house was built in the early 18th century and extensively modified by its most notable resident, John Wilkes (1725-1797), MP for Aylesbury in 1757-1764. Wilkes came into possession of an estate and income in Buckinghamshire in 1747 when he married Mary Meade (1715-1784) and he lived in Prebendal House from the mid-1750s until he died.
Wilkes was a radical politician and spent time in the Tower of London in 1763 when he was accused of seditious libel after he published inflammatory pamphlets attacking George III and prominent members of his administration. He was released after 15,000 people marched the streets of London in the ‘Wilkes and Liberty’ marches.
Wilkes is remembered as a defender of freedom of speech and personal liberties, and is known for his charitable donations. He was associated with Sir Francis Dashwood of West Wycombe and the infamous Hell Fire Club at West Wycombe Park and the Hell Fire Caves.
The entrance gateway to the Prebendal House is a Grade II listed building (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Prebendal House is a handsome stuccoed building, and the entrance has grand classical proportions with a portico of ionic columns. The house had been a school and then offices before it was converted into apartments in recent years, but most of its original fabric has been maintained.
A communal hallway with a cantilevered staircase and intricately carved panelling leads to the second floor of the house. The interior features include generous ceiling heights, arts and crafts fireplaces, far-reaching views over Saint Mary’s Church and out to the surrounding countryside and the Chiltern Hills.
Access to the house is by a brick-built gatehouse, incorporated by John Wilkes during his time at the house. The communal gardens of about 1.25 acres include ancient trees and mature planting.
Prebendal House was a school before being converted into apartments (Photograph courtesy Chancellors, Aylesbury)
Nearby, at Prebendal Court to the north of Prebendal House and facing onto Nelson Terreace, a plaque placed by the Aylesbury Society on an apartment block in the development recalls how an Iron Age hillfort ditch dating from 650 BCE was excavated on the site in 1985.
The findings suggest the site of Prebendal House represents the southern continuation of the western line of the Iron Age and later Saxon defensive circuit. The remaining deposits and structures were associated with the construction of Prebendal House and the landscaping of the gardens from the 18th century onwards.
As for the Prebendaries of Aylesbury, they continued to hold office for centuries. They included Roger de Wenesham who became Bishop of Lichfield and died in 1257.
Percival de Lavinia, who was Prebendary of Aylesbury in 1285, was also the Archdeacon of Buckingham in 1270. His brother Ottobuono de’ Fieschi became Pope as Pope Adrian V on 11 July 1276, but died on 18 August 1276 before even being ordained priest. In the Divine Comedy, Dante meets Adrian V in the fifth terrace of Purgatorio, where Adrian V is being cleansed of the vice of avarice.
John Hacket (1608-1670), who became Prebendary of Aylesbury in 1623, was appointed Bishop of Lichfield after the restoration of Charles II, and was responsible for rebuilding Lichfield Cathedral.
Since John Pretyman died in 1842, the Prebendaries of Aylesbury have been honorary canons. But for many centuries before that they had no associations with Prebendal House.
A plaque at Prebendal Court recalls an Iron Age hillfort ditch (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Daily prayer in Ordinary Time 2025:
88, Tuesday 5 August 2025
‘He made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side’ (Matthew 14: 22) … a boat on the other side of the Ouse in Old Stratford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Patrick Comerford
We are continuing in Ordinary Time in the Church Calendar and the week began with the Seventh Sunday after Trinity (Trinity VII, 3 August 2025). The calendar of the Church of England in Common Worship today remembers Oswald (642), King of Northumbria, Martyr.
Before today begins, I am taking some quiet time this morning to give thanks, for reflection, prayer and reading in these ways:
1, today’s Gospel reading;
2, a reflection on the Gospel reading;
3, a prayer from the USPG prayer diary;
4, the Collects and Post-Communion prayer of the day.
A boat in the small harbour in Loughshinny in north Co Dublin (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Matthew 14: 22-36 (NRSVA):
22 Immediately he made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds. 23 And after he had dismissed the crowds, he went up the mountain by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone, 24 but by this time the boat, battered by the waves, was far from the land, for the wind was against them. 25 And early in the morning he came walking towards them on the lake. 26 But when the disciples saw him walking on the lake, they were terrified, saying, ‘It is a ghost!’ And they cried out in fear. 27 But immediately Jesus spoke to them and said, ‘Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.’
28 Peter answered him, ‘Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.’ 29 He said, ‘Come.’ So Peter got out of the boat, started walking on the water, and came towards Jesus. 30 But when he noticed the strong wind, he became frightened, and beginning to sink, he cried out, ‘Lord, save me!’ 31 Jesus immediately reached out his hand and caught him, saying to him, ‘You of little faith, why did you doubt?’ 32 When they got into the boat, the wind ceased. 33 And those in the boat worshipped him, saying, ‘Truly you are the Son of God.’
34 When they had crossed over, they came to land at Gennesaret. 35 After the people of that place recognized him, they sent word throughout the region and brought all who were sick to him, 36 and begged him that they might touch even the fringe of his cloak; and all who touched it were healed.
A boat full of tourists off the coast of Crete … is the only difference between tourism and people smuggling the way people pay? Or is it the difference between present pleasures and future hopes? (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Today’s Reflection
In recent months, I have enjoyed being on boats in Sarawak and Singapore, barge trips on the Grand union Canal, and watching rowers and boats in York, on the Backs in Cambridge and on the river in Oxford. I even had the pleasure many years ago of one college boat club in Cambridge asking to use one of my photographs in a fundraising drive.
It is almost 60 years since I first went rowing as a teenager on Lough Ramor in Virginia. But I had long thought that I would be left regretting that I had gone to Cambridge as a student 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, shortly after I arrived in Askeaton in 2017, one evening, as I was standing at a slipway by the banks of the Rover Deel, I was invited suddenly and unexpectedly to get into a boat and 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, or re-learn, how to row, I was told brusquely and with humour that once I stopped learning I had stopped living.
Later that same week, I watched children and teenagers hop in and out of boats, freely and fearlessly, confident of their own ability and the ability of those who were training them.
Fearlessly. But as I was messing about on boats in Crete some weeks earlier, hopping on and off them in the sun as I visited smaller islands and lagoons, I thought of how this was a pleasure that I was paying for and wondered but how many refugees were full of fear as they boarded boats in the dark trying to arrive on Greek islands, having paid exorbitantly for the risk and the dangers.
Fearlessly. What are your worst fears?
I know, at present, many of us have fears arising out of the wars between Russia and Ukraine, the wars involving Israel in Gaza, and the global insecurity created by the mercurial decision making by the Trump regime.
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 recurring nightmares they were as 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.
But most of us have recurring dreams that are vivid and that have themes that keep repeating themselves. They fall into a number of genres, and most psychotherapists identify a number of these types of dreams that most of us deal with in our sleep at various stages in adult life.
They include dreams about:
• Drowning.
• Finding myself unprepared for a major function or event, whether it is social or work-related.
• Flying or floating in the air, but then falling suddenly.
• Being caught naked in public.
• Missing a train, a bus or a plane.
• Caught in loos or lifts that do not work, or that overwork themselves.
• Calling out in a crowd but failing to vocalise my scream or not being heard in the crowd or recognised.
• Falling, falling into an abyss.
There are others. But 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.
Saint Peter’s plight in the Gospel reading (Matthew 14: 22-36) at the Eucharist today seems to be the working out of a constant, recurring, vivid dream of the type that 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.
Peter sees Christ walking on the lake or floating effortlessly above the water. At first, he thinks he is seeing a ghost. But then Christ calls to him, and Saint Peter responds.
Once he recognises Christ, Saint Peter gets out of the boat, starts walking on the water, and comes towards Christ. But he loses his confidence when he notices the strong wind, he is frightened, and he begins to sink.
He cries out: ‘Lord, save me.’ Christ immediately reaches out his hand and catches him, saying to him, ‘You of little faith, why did you doubt?’
They get back into the boat, the wind ceases. And those in the boat worship him, saying, ‘Truly you are the Son of God.’
Was the sight of Christ walking on the water an illusion?
Was Peter’s idea that he could walk on the water the product of an over-worked mind while it was sleeping?
Did he realise he was unprepared for the great encounter?
Did the wind cease when he woke from the dream?
All of these questions are over-analytical and fail to deal with the real encounter that takes place.
Even before the Resurrection, in his frailty, in his weakness, in his humble humanity, Saint Peter calls out to Christ: ‘Lord, save me’ (verse 30).
Do the others in the boat fall down at Christ’s feet and worship him because he can walk on water? Because he can lift a drowning man out of the depths? Or because they recognise that in Christ they can find the end to all their worst dreams and nightmares?
In this come-and-go summer, we know too, as they say, to expect the unexpected. On a few occasions, black clouds have moved across our rivers. The weather could turn, the waters could become choppy, and this can be a frightening experience, even on rivers, close to the river bank and close to firm land.
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 Peter’s boat and the Disciples on the stormy Sea of Galilee (see also Mark 6: 45-52; 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 retain the word nave for the main part of the church, which, architecturally often looks like an up-turned boat.
So, I do would not want any of us to risk walking on water, or to play stupidly in boats on the river or on a lake, and certainly not off the coast or out to see.
But if we are to dream dreams for our parishes, for the Church, for the Kingdom of God, we need to be aware that it comes at the risk of feeling our dreams may be the nightmares of others.
If we are going to dream dreams for our parishes, 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 our parishes, 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.
An icon of the Church as a boat, including Christ, the Apostles and the Church Fathers (Icon: Deacon Matthew Garrett, www.holy-icons.com)
Today’s Prayers (Tuesday 5 August 2025):
The theme this week (3 to 9 August) in Pray with the World Church, the prayer diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), is ‘Indigenous Wisdom’ (pp 24-25). This theme was introduced on Sunday with reflections from Dr Paulo Ueti, Theological Advisor and Regional Manager for the Americas and the Caribbean, USPG.
The USPG Prayer Diary today (Tuesday 5 August 2025) invites us to pray:
Lord, bless Jocabed, Winston and Isabel as they stand up for justice. Strengthen their advocacy, protect the communities they belong to, and guide us to stand together in faith and action.
The Collect:
Lord God almighty,
who so kindled the faith of King Oswald with your Spirit
that he set up the sign of the cross in his kingdom
and turned his people to the light of Christ:
grant that we, being fired by the same Spirit,
may always bear our cross before the world
and be found faithful servants of the gospel;
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.
Post-Communion Prayer:
God our redeemer,
whose Church was strengthened by the blood of your martyr Oswald:
so bind us, in life and death, to Christ’s sacrifice
that our lives, broken and offered with his,
may carry his death and proclaim his resurrection in the world;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Collect in the Eve of the Transfiguration:
Father in heaven,
whose Son Jesus Christ was wonderfully transfigured
before chosen witnesses upon the holy mountain,
and spoke of the exodus he would accomplish at Jerusalem:
give us strength so to hear his voice and bear our cross
that in the world to come we may see him as he is;
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.
Yesterday’s reflection
Continued tomorrow
Learning, or re-learning, how to row on the River Deel at Askeaton, Co Limerick
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
We are continuing in Ordinary Time in the Church Calendar and the week began with the Seventh Sunday after Trinity (Trinity VII, 3 August 2025). The calendar of the Church of England in Common Worship today remembers Oswald (642), King of Northumbria, Martyr.
Before today begins, I am taking some quiet time this morning to give thanks, for reflection, prayer and reading in these ways:
1, today’s Gospel reading;
2, a reflection on the Gospel reading;
3, a prayer from the USPG prayer diary;
4, the Collects and Post-Communion prayer of the day.
A boat in the small harbour in Loughshinny in north Co Dublin (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Matthew 14: 22-36 (NRSVA):
22 Immediately he made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds. 23 And after he had dismissed the crowds, he went up the mountain by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone, 24 but by this time the boat, battered by the waves, was far from the land, for the wind was against them. 25 And early in the morning he came walking towards them on the lake. 26 But when the disciples saw him walking on the lake, they were terrified, saying, ‘It is a ghost!’ And they cried out in fear. 27 But immediately Jesus spoke to them and said, ‘Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.’
28 Peter answered him, ‘Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.’ 29 He said, ‘Come.’ So Peter got out of the boat, started walking on the water, and came towards Jesus. 30 But when he noticed the strong wind, he became frightened, and beginning to sink, he cried out, ‘Lord, save me!’ 31 Jesus immediately reached out his hand and caught him, saying to him, ‘You of little faith, why did you doubt?’ 32 When they got into the boat, the wind ceased. 33 And those in the boat worshipped him, saying, ‘Truly you are the Son of God.’
34 When they had crossed over, they came to land at Gennesaret. 35 After the people of that place recognized him, they sent word throughout the region and brought all who were sick to him, 36 and begged him that they might touch even the fringe of his cloak; and all who touched it were healed.
A boat full of tourists off the coast of Crete … is the only difference between tourism and people smuggling the way people pay? Or is it the difference between present pleasures and future hopes? (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Today’s Reflection
In recent months, I have enjoyed being on boats in Sarawak and Singapore, barge trips on the Grand union Canal, and watching rowers and boats in York, on the Backs in Cambridge and on the river in Oxford. I even had the pleasure many years ago of one college boat club in Cambridge asking to use one of my photographs in a fundraising drive.
It is almost 60 years since I first went rowing as a teenager on Lough Ramor in Virginia. But I had long thought that I would be left regretting that I had gone to Cambridge as a student 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, shortly after I arrived in Askeaton in 2017, one evening, as I was standing at a slipway by the banks of the Rover Deel, I was invited suddenly and unexpectedly to get into a boat and 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, or re-learn, how to row, I was told brusquely and with humour that once I stopped learning I had stopped living.
Later that same week, I watched children and teenagers hop in and out of boats, freely and fearlessly, confident of their own ability and the ability of those who were training them.
Fearlessly. But as I was messing about on boats in Crete some weeks earlier, hopping on and off them in the sun as I visited smaller islands and lagoons, I thought of how this was a pleasure that I was paying for and wondered but how many refugees were full of fear as they boarded boats in the dark trying to arrive on Greek islands, having paid exorbitantly for the risk and the dangers.
Fearlessly. What are your worst fears?
I know, at present, many of us have fears arising out of the wars between Russia and Ukraine, the wars involving Israel in Gaza, and the global insecurity created by the mercurial decision making by the Trump regime.
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 recurring nightmares they were as 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.
But most of us have recurring dreams that are vivid and that have themes that keep repeating themselves. They fall into a number of genres, and most psychotherapists identify a number of these types of dreams that most of us deal with in our sleep at various stages in adult life.
They include dreams about:
• Drowning.
• Finding myself unprepared for a major function or event, whether it is social or work-related.
• Flying or floating in the air, but then falling suddenly.
• Being caught naked in public.
• Missing a train, a bus or a plane.
• Caught in loos or lifts that do not work, or that overwork themselves.
• Calling out in a crowd but failing to vocalise my scream or not being heard in the crowd or recognised.
• Falling, falling into an abyss.
There are others. But 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.
Saint Peter’s plight in the Gospel reading (Matthew 14: 22-36) at the Eucharist today seems to be the working out of a constant, recurring, vivid dream of the type that 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.
Peter sees Christ walking on the lake or floating effortlessly above the water. At first, he thinks he is seeing a ghost. But then Christ calls to him, and Saint Peter responds.
Once he recognises Christ, Saint Peter gets out of the boat, starts walking on the water, and comes towards Christ. But he loses his confidence when he notices the strong wind, he is frightened, and he begins to sink.
He cries out: ‘Lord, save me.’ Christ immediately reaches out his hand and catches him, saying to him, ‘You of little faith, why did you doubt?’
They get back into the boat, the wind ceases. And those in the boat worship him, saying, ‘Truly you are the Son of God.’
Was the sight of Christ walking on the water an illusion?
Was Peter’s idea that he could walk on the water the product of an over-worked mind while it was sleeping?
Did he realise he was unprepared for the great encounter?
Did the wind cease when he woke from the dream?
All of these questions are over-analytical and fail to deal with the real encounter that takes place.
Even before the Resurrection, in his frailty, in his weakness, in his humble humanity, Saint Peter calls out to Christ: ‘Lord, save me’ (verse 30).
Do the others in the boat fall down at Christ’s feet and worship him because he can walk on water? Because he can lift a drowning man out of the depths? Or because they recognise that in Christ they can find the end to all their worst dreams and nightmares?
In this come-and-go summer, we know too, as they say, to expect the unexpected. On a few occasions, black clouds have moved across our rivers. The weather could turn, the waters could become choppy, and this can be a frightening experience, even on rivers, close to the river bank and close to firm land.
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 Peter’s boat and the Disciples on the stormy Sea of Galilee (see also Mark 6: 45-52; 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 retain the word nave for the main part of the church, which, architecturally often looks like an up-turned boat.
So, I do would not want any of us to risk walking on water, or to play stupidly in boats on the river or on a lake, and certainly not off the coast or out to see.
But if we are to dream dreams for our parishes, for the Church, for the Kingdom of God, we need to be aware that it comes at the risk of feeling our dreams may be the nightmares of others.
If we are going to dream dreams for our parishes, 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 our parishes, 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.

Today’s Prayers (Tuesday 5 August 2025):
The theme this week (3 to 9 August) in Pray with the World Church, the prayer diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), is ‘Indigenous Wisdom’ (pp 24-25). This theme was introduced on Sunday with reflections from Dr Paulo Ueti, Theological Advisor and Regional Manager for the Americas and the Caribbean, USPG.
The USPG Prayer Diary today (Tuesday 5 August 2025) invites us to pray:
Lord, bless Jocabed, Winston and Isabel as they stand up for justice. Strengthen their advocacy, protect the communities they belong to, and guide us to stand together in faith and action.
The Collect:
Lord God almighty,
who so kindled the faith of King Oswald with your Spirit
that he set up the sign of the cross in his kingdom
and turned his people to the light of Christ:
grant that we, being fired by the same Spirit,
may always bear our cross before the world
and be found faithful servants of the gospel;
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.
Post-Communion Prayer:
God our redeemer,
whose Church was strengthened by the blood of your martyr Oswald:
so bind us, in life and death, to Christ’s sacrifice
that our lives, broken and offered with his,
may carry his death and proclaim his resurrection in the world;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Collect in the Eve of the Transfiguration:
Father in heaven,
whose Son Jesus Christ was wonderfully transfigured
before chosen witnesses upon the holy mountain,
and spoke of the exodus he would accomplish at Jerusalem:
give us strength so to hear his voice and bear our cross
that in the world to come we may see him as he is;
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.
Yesterday’s reflection
Continued tomorrow
Learning, or re-learning, how to row on the River Deel at Askeaton, Co Limerick
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