24 April 2025

An icon of Saint Irene,
a friend’s present in
Rethymnon, symbolises
hope for peace at Easter

An icon of Aghia Irini (Αγία Ειρήνη) or Saint Irene by Alexandra Kaouki … completed in 2012 and a present from Rethymnon at Easter (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)

Patrick Comerford

I came back from Rethymnon earlier this week laden down with presents and gifts from friends during my five-day ‘mini-retreat’ in Crete in Holy Week and Easter.

During the weekend, I had coffee one morning in Galero, near the Rimondi Fountain, with Alexandra Kaouki (Αλεξανδρα Καουκι), one of the foremost icon writers in Rethymnon today. We had a lengthy conversation that included the theology of icons, the place of women in the church, ministry and political and economic life in Greece.

One of her gifts was one of her early icons, depicting Aghia Irini (Αγία Ειρήνη) or Saint Irene, completed in 2012.

She told me that morning how she had kept this icon at home after working on it because it had a special meaning and special significance for me. She had long felt it should only go to a special home or special person, and she held on to it all those years.

But on the morning before we met, she told me, she felt Saint Irene’s eyes were fixed on her and telling her: ‘Give me to Patrick’.

Saint Irene seemed such a special choice for me last weekend. I was back in Rethymnon to pray and remind me of my own need for spiritual peace. But Alexandra also thought it was appropriate for me, because of my campaigning past, as the saint’s name ‘Peace’, and also because I had written appreciatively in the past about Aghia Irini convent in the hills above Rethymnon.

A fresco depicting Saint Irene or Aghia Irini by Alexandra Kaouki in a church in Rethymnon

I first got to know Alexandra Kaouki when she had a workshop on Melissinou Street, beneath the slopes of the Venetian Fortezza. She began writing icons at the early age of 20, and on that first visit she proudly showed me her first completed work. On a shelf beside her, a new icon of Saint Catherine of Alexandria was ready for the final touches, while on a second easel she was preparing to work of an icon of the Dormition.

Alexandra’s work includes icons and frescoes and is marked by its spirituality, simplicity, the expression of the figures and the brightness of her colours. She works throughout the day with care, faith and passion. There she crafts icons using traditional Byzantine techniques and the faithful to traditions of the Cretan school.

The raw materials she uses for her icons are of the highest quality, with natural and industrial woods, traditionally-prepared canvases, 22 carat gold leaf coating, mineral colours and tempera, which uses the yolk of an egg according to Byzantine and Orthodox traditions.

She believes an icon in the Byzantine tradition should not only be an aid to worship, ‘but a diachronic work of art, of beauty and aesthetics.’

Alexandra Kaouki was born in Le Mans in France in 1973. At the age of 20, she moved with her family to Athens, and there she took her first steps in the holy art of writing icons.

She is self-taught, but has also learned at the hands of well-known icon writers in Athens from 1997 to 2000. She has lived in Rethymnon since 2006, and she took her first professional steps in 2007 when she opened her first art studio in Atsipopoulo, before moving in 2013 to studio on Melissinou Street, a narrow street close to the slopes beneath the old Venetian Fortezza.

Her icon of the Four Martyrs of Rethymnon hangs over the desk of the Bishop of Rethymnon in his office, and her icons and frescoes can be seen in churches throughout Crete.

The first of her icons that I bought was a small copy of that icon of the Four Martyrs of Rethymnon, and for years it stayed on the bookshelves in my study at the Church of Ireland Theological Institute and then on a wall in the Rectory in Askeaton, Co Limerick.

Saint Irene (left), Saint Catherine and Saint Barbara … three women saints in a fresco in the Church of Panagia Dexia in Thessaloniki (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Saint Irene, Saint Catherine and Saint Barbara are three saints who are often found together in icons and frescoes in Greek churches. They form a traditional grouping, such as the Apostles Peter and Paul, as an icon of Church Unity, Saint Paul and Sant Barnabas, the Cappadocian Fathers (Basil the Great, Gregory of Nyssa and Gregory of Nazianzus), and the Three Holy Hierarchs (Basil the Great, Gregory the Theologian and John Chrysostom).

Saint Irene is one of three saints and sisters – Irene, Agape and Chioni – who were born in Thessaloniki and who were martyred there for their faith in the year 304 CE. Their names mean Peace, Love and Purity, and their feast day was earlier this month, 3 April.

The story of their martyrdom is the subject of Dulcitius, a 10th-century Latin drama by Hrotsvitha of Gandersheim, the first-known female playwright.

Irene, Agape and Chione were brought before Dulcitius, governor of Macedonia, on the charge of refusing to eat food that had been offered in sacrifice to the gods. When Agape and Chionia again refused to eat this food, they were burned alive.

Dulcitius then found that Irene was keeping Christian books prohibited by the law. She declared that when the decrees against Christians had been published, she and several others fled to the mountains. She refused to name the people who had fled with her and said all she alone knew where the books were being kept. Dulcitius then ordered Irene to be stripped and exposed in a brothel. But no one mistreated her in the brothel. The governor then gave Irene a second chance, but when she refused this Dulcitius then sentenced her to death, and the books found with her were burned as well.

There is a second significant Saint Irene in the Orthodox Calendar. This Saint Irene (752-803) was a Byzantine empress and was instrumental in restoring the use of icons in the Orthodox Church.

Saint Irene was the wife of the Byzantine emperor Leo IV, and when her husband died in 780, she became guardian of their 10-year-old son, Constantine VI, and co-emperor with him. Later that year she crushed a plot by the iconoclasts or opponents of the use of icons to put Leo’s half-brother, Nicephorus, on the throne.

The use of icons had been prohibited since 730. When one of Irene’s supporters, Tarasius, was elected patriarch of Constantinople, he summoned the Constantinople in 786 and then the Seventh Ecumenical Council in Nicaea in 787 and restored the reverence of images.

Constantine VI banished his mother from court, but she later had her son arrested and blinded . From 797, she reigned alone as emperor for five years until she was deposed in 802 and exiled to the island of Lesbos. She is remembered for her zeal in restoring icons and her feast day is celebrated on 9 August.

A quiet corner in the monastery of Agia Irini, 5 km south of Rethymnon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

The Monastery of Aghia Irini, about 5 km south of Rethymnon in the mountains above the town, is one of the oldest monasteries in Crete. Various accounts say it was founded sometime between 961 and 1204, and it was certainly built before 1362, when a Venetian document testifies to its existence.

The monastery was destroyed several times during the many revolutions in Crete against Ottoman rule. During the last Cretan revolution of 1897-1898, the Turks burnt the monastery, the ruined monastery was formally closed in 1900, and the ruins remained deserted throughout most of the 20th century.

At first, the monastery lands were granted to the monastery of Arsani, but in 1925 the lands were distributed among local Greek war veterans. Sister Akaterina, who brought once brought me on a tour of the monastery, told of how the Metropolitan of Rethymnon, the late Bishop Theodoros Tzedakis, had a vision in 1989 for its restoration and invited a group of nuns to form a new community at Aghia Irini.

The nuns moved into the buildings and restoration work began in 1990. At the time, Aghia Irini was a jumble of dilapidated buildings. Today, it must be one of the most beautiful monasteries in Crete, and the restoration work has received architectural and cultural awards. The church was officially opened in 2003, and was consecrated in 2011 by Patriarch Theodoros of Alexandria. The buildings include an older three-aisled church of Saint Irene, Saint Catherine and Saint Euphemia.

In their shop, the nuns sell traditional handicrafts of weaving and needlework, their own almond-flavoured drink, candles, religious books and icons, including unusual icons written on odd pieces of ceramic.

To outsiders, the Orthodox Church can sometimes seem behind the times in its attitude to women, exemplified in debates about the ordination of women or the exclusion of women from Mount Athos. But the exclusion of women from Mount Athos is more about protecting and honouring the celibacy of the men in the monastic communities.

The work of iconographers like Alexandra Kaouki and the work of the women at Aghia Irini leave me confident that the Orthodox Church has the capacity to move forward in time in the debates about the place of women in the Church.

Alexandra Kaouki at work on an icon of Saint Catherine of Alexandria

Daily prayer in Easter 2025:
5, Thursday 24 April 2025,
Thursday in Easter week

The Widow of Nain … a window by Hardman at the west end of the south aisle in Saint Mary’s Church, St Neots, Cambridgeshire (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)

Patrick Comerford

Our Easter celebrations continue in the Church Calendar, and this is still Easter week. There are a number of opportunities in my diary today, including the ‘Last Thursday’ history group meeting in Stony Stratford this afternoon, looking at VE Day, and the Stony Stratford Annual Town Meeting later this evening.

Before this day begins, however, I am taking some quiet time this morning to give thanks, to reflect, to pray and to read in these ways:

1, reading today’s Gospel reading;

2, a short reflection;

3, a prayer from the USPG prayer diary;

4, the Collects and Post-Communion prayer of the day.

The resurrection of the young man of Nain, by Lucas Cranach (1569)

Luke 7: 11-17 (NRSVA):

11 Soon afterwards he [Jesus] to a town called Nain, and his disciples and a large crowd went with him. 12 As he approached the gate of the town, a man who had died was being carried out. He was his mother’s only son, and she was a widow; and with her was a large crowd from the town. 13 When the Lord saw her, he had compassion for her and said to her, ‘Do not weep.’ 14 Then he came forward and touched the bier, and the bearers stood still. And he said, ‘Young man, I say to you, rise!’ 15 The dead man sat up and began to speak, and Jesus gave him to his mother. 16 Fear seized all of them; and they glorified God, saying, ‘A great prophet has risen among us!’ and ‘God has looked favourably on his people!’ 17 This word about him spread throughout Judea and all the surrounding country.

Jesus Raising the Widow’s Son at Nain (James Tissot, ca 1890)

Today’s Reflection:

This morning’s Gospel reading at the Eucharist (Luke 7: 11-17) could be read as a ‘prequel’ of the Resurrection, and so is an appropriate reading in Easter Week.

Funeral stories and the stories of children being raised to life, like the one in this Gospel reading today, are not always the most cheerful Bible readings. This reading was particularly difficult when I was preaching one Sunday morning many years ago in Saint Patrick’s Church, Donabate, Co Dublin, when I was baptising a little baby boy.

Saint Luke’s Gospel has many accounts of healing and wholeness, and when we read any of these stories it is always good to ask a few basic questions, like who, what, where, when and why.

When I watch film or read a book, for example, I should be asking a few basic questions such as:

• What’s the story all about?

• Who are the principal characters, the main actors?

• In other words, is there anything in this for me?

In a similar way, if we are to find anything in a Gospel story that not only makes it interesting but makes it relevant for me, then I suppose I could approach a Gospel reading with the same questions:

• What’s the story all about?

• Who are the main characters?

• Where is the action?

In today’s Gospel story, there is a lot of action, and a lot of people. In fact, there are two large crowds, and the drama is created in the way they meet each other, in an unexpected and unplanned way.

The first crowd is made up of those following Jesus, who have just arrived after a long, 20-mile walk with him from Capernaum.

This group includes not just those who are his disciples. But a lot of other people too – people are there to see what he is doing, what’s going on. Like many Netflix or television viewers later this evening or after a hard day’s work, they are looking for the entertainment, looking for the drama, perhaps even hoping for a miracle or too … after all, at Capernaum they have seen Jesus heal the centurion’s servant.

And we ought not to be too dismissive of this crowd following Jesus, or their motives. After all, that is the way a lot of people end up coming to church. They go with the flow, they like what is on offer for their children, it gives them a sense of identity. And, in coming along, they find out who Jesus really is, why it matters to follow him.

Perhaps they were expecting nothing. Perhaps they were just tired, and after a 20-mile walk are anxious about whether there are enough beds in the tiny village of Nain for them all to stay overnight.

And, unexpectedly – in a way that no-one could have planned – this large crowd bumps into another, second large crowd. Nain is called a town here, but it was more like a village, about nine or 10 miles south of Nazareth. Until the mid-20th century, it had a population of less than 100 or 200, and we can imagine a tiny place in the days of Jesus.

So, one large crowd bumps into another large crowd. And it is bad news for the large crowd that has been following Jesus.

In a tiny place like Nain, to have a large crowd they must have been drawn from every house and dwelling place, every family in the village. If they are all in mourning, not only are they unlikely to be able to offer anyone bed and breakfast for the night, they probably are ritually unable to do so: a dead body, a corpse, a funeral, a burial, all make a practising, observant Jew ritually unclean.

The disciples and the other people who are following Jesus on the road from Capernaum to Nain must have taken pity on themselves. Where are they going to go tonight? What can they do? Where can they stay?

Perhaps the appeal of following Jesus, waiting for the miracle to happen, suddenly evaporated as this reality dawned on them.

Perhaps they even thought that Jesus should have pity on them, pity on their plight.

But instead, Jesus takes pity, not on them, and not even on the poor young lad who has died either. Instead, he takes pity on the boy’s widowed mother. He has compassion for her, he tells her not to weep.

However, having compassion and doing something about it make two separate sets of demands.

The love of a mother for her young son is incomparable, as people knew too that Sunday morning at that child’s baptism in Donabate.

Jesus recognises, Jesus identifies with, Jesus is consumed with, the love of this widowed, probably young widowed, mother. As a widow, left financially ruined, her only hope of survival in this world may have been in the livelihood her son would eventually attain.

She has already been widowed, now her son has died. She faces not only emotional devastation, but financial destruction and social ruin … she will have no-one to work her fields, no-one to provide an income, no-one to guarantee her safety and security.

Jesus recognises her plight … and he does something about it. First he does something that is shocking in his day, shocking behaviour for a rabbi in those days. He touches the bier, he touches the dead body. It is no wonder the bearers stood still. He has identified so much with the widow’s plight that he too becomes ritually unclean. In Christ, God’s identification with our humanity is so complete that he takes on everything about us. God so identifies with us in Christ that he even identifies with us in birth, in life, and in death.

The miracle is amazing. The fact that God identifies so much with us is even more amazing. God’s compassion should be more amazing than God’s miracles. It is because of his love and compassion in the first place that there are miracles.

No wonder the crowds, the two large crowds, all of them, are seized with fear. It is awesome.

And yet, in telling this story, Luke rises to some of his most poetic language in this Gospel.

He looks back to the words of the pregnant Mary and ageing Zechariah in the canticles Magnificat and Nunc Dimittis, when Saint Luke says they glorified God (7: 16, cf Luke 1: 47-48), when they realised a great prophet had risen among them (cf Luke 1: 69-70), when they said God has looked favourably on his people (cf Luke 1: 48), when they realised a new day had dawned. She has been shown mercy, she has been saved from the hands of her enemies, she has received the tender mercy of God.

Luke looks forward to that moment when the suffering Christ meets the weeping women outside the gates of Jerusalem (Luke 23: 28-29). And he looks forward to that moment on the Cross, in Saint John’s Gospel, when the dying Jesus takes pity on his widowed mother and entrusts her and the Beloved Disciple to the mutual care of each other (John 19: 26-27). But he is also looking forward to the Resurrection on Easter Day.

What we are invited to be witnesses to this morning is not some old-fashioned miracle show. That’s what the large crowd was hanging around Jesus for what the large crowd was hanging around the funeral procession for.

What we are being invited to this morning is the realisation that in his compassion, in his actions, in his caring, Jesus shows us that God loves us, each of us individually, as a mother loves her only and precious child.

If you imagine for one moment the love that little boy who was being baptised in Donabate that morning could expect from his parents, then you can catch, just catch, a glimpse of the love that God has for each of us, individually. God loves you and God loves me as if were the only child in the world that matters … and even more than that.

This is a new dawn. That is what the promise of baptism is, this what the Easter hope is: it is about dying to sin, to the old ways, rising to new life in Christ, and continuing for ever.

Χριστὸς ἀνέστη!
Christ is Risen!


The raising of the son of the widow of Nain … a modern icon in a Greek Orthodox church

Today’s Prayers (Thursday 24 April 2025, Thursday in Easter Week):

‘Cross-Cultural Mission at Manchester Airport’ provides the theme this week in ‘Pray With the World Church’, the Prayer Diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel).’ This theme was introduced on Sunday with reflections by the Revd Debbie Sawyer, Pastoral Chaplain in the Church in Wales and Airport Chaplain, Manchester.

The USPG Prayer Diary today (Thursday 24 April 2025, Thursday in Easter Week) invites us to pray:

Let us pray today for all the displaced people moving through our world as they flee from poverty and war. May a haven of hope and peace await them at journey’s end.

The Collect:

Lord of all life and power,
who through the mighty resurrection of your Son
overcame the old order of sin and death
to make all things new in him:
grant that we, being dead to sin
and alive to you in Jesus Christ,
may reign with him in glory;
to whom with you and the Holy Spirit
be praise and honour, glory and might,
now and in all eternity.

The Post-Communion Prayer:

God of Life,
who for our redemption gave your only-begotten Son
to the death of the cross,
and by his glorious resurrection
have delivered us from the power of our enemy:
grant us so to die daily to sin,
that we may evermore live with him in the joy of his risen life;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Additional Collect:

God of glory,
by the raising of your Son
you have broken the chains of death and hell:
fill your Church with faith and hope;
for a new day has dawned
and the way to life stands open
in our Saviour Jesus Christ.

Yesterday’s Reflections

Continued Tomorrow

The raising of the son of the widow of Nain … a modern fresco in a Greek Orthodox church

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