06 October 2025

‘A person whose heart isn’t broken,
at least some of the time,
isn’t paying attention’

Bitter swwet hopes … lemons in full fruit on a lemon tree beside the Municipal Gardens in Rethymnon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)

Patrick Comerford

The Jewish Festival of Sukkot this year begins at sunset this evening (6 October 2025) and ends at nightfall next Monday (13 October 2025).

Sukkot is known as the ‘Festival of Tabernacles’ or the ‘Feast of Booths,’ and it is one of the three central pilgrimage festivals in Judaism, along with Passover and Shavuot. It is traditional in Jewish families and homes to mark this festival by building a sukkah or a temporary hut to stay over in during the holiday.

Sukkot is a time to be reminded of vulnerability and insecurity, recalling the fragile condition of the fleeing slaves wandering in the wilderness for 40 years and their total reliance on God.

These feelings of vulnerability and insecurity are so relevant today from all who continue to deal with the horrors of the Yom Kippur attack on Heaton Park Synagogue in Manchester or who fear the rise of antisemitism in Britain and globally, to everyone who watches what is happening at the talks in Cairo with a mixture of fear and hope, trepidation and anticipation, waiting and praying for the end to hatred and to the killings, for the release of the hostages and for peace and justice for all in Gaza, Israel, Palestine and throughout the Middle East.

Sukkot customs include shaking a lulav and an etrog daily throughout the festival: the lulav is a palm branch joined with myrtle and willow branches; an etrog is a citron fruit, usually a lemon.

A sukkah is a temporary dwelling in which farmers once lived during the harvest. Today, it is a reminder of the fragile dwellings in which the people lived during their 40 years wandering through the wilderness after fleeing slavery in Egypt.

Throughout the holiday, meals are eaten inside the sukkah and some people even sleep there as well. On each day of the holiday, it is traditional to perform a waving ceremony with the ‘Four Species’ or specified plants: citrus trees, palm trees, thick or leafy trees and willows.

Sukkot is a joyous and upbeat celebration, and is celebrated today with its own customs and practices.

The interim days of Sukkot, known as hol HaMoed (חול המועד, festival weekdays), are often marked with special meals in the sukkah, when guests are welcomed.

The Shabbat that falls during the week of Sukkot, beginning next Friday evening (10 October), is known as Shabbat Hol haMoed. The Book of Ecclesiastes is read, with its emphasis on the ephemeral nature of life: ‘Vanity of vanities, all is vanity.’ This echoes the theme of the sukkah, while its emphasis on death reflects the time of year in which Sukkot falls, the ‘autumn’ of life.

Shaking a lulav and an etrog … a figure in a shop window in the Ghetto in Venice (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

On her blog Velveteen Rabbi, Rabbi Rachel Barenblat shared these thoughts for Sukkot some years ago [19 October 2019], which I have adapted poetically:
https://velveteenrabbi.com/2019/10/19/broken-and-whole-a-dvarling-for-shabbat-chol-hamoed-sukkot/
In one of his teachings on Sukkot,
the Hasidic master known as the Sfat Emet writes:

This is wholeness: a person with a broken heart …
and in every place that God dwells, there is wholeness.
God makes every incompleteness whole.

This is wholeness: a person with a broken heart.
At first glance it’s almost a koan.
Broken equals whole?
How does that work, exactly?


A person whose heart isn’t broken,
at least some of the time,
isn’t paying attention.

A person whose heart isn’t sometimes cracked-open
by the exquisite and sometimes devastating fragility of this world
isn’t paying attention.

A person whose heart is so impermeable —
whether to our dangerously warming planet,
or to the inevitable griefs and losses that come with loving human beings who disappoint us, and who will die —
that’s not wholeness. That’s by-passing.

After Yom Kippur, you feel like
your skin is too thin and your heart is so open
that re-entry into the ‘regular world’
is almost more than you can bear.

Sukkot says: keep your heart open a little longer.
Sukkot is an opportunity to keep our hearts open wide.

We build and decorate these fragile little houses.
Their roofs have to be made out of plants
that are harvested from the earth,
and open enough to let in the stars and the rain.

A sukkah is almost a sketch of a house,
a parody of a house,
a hint of a house.

You can see the outlines of a house,
but it’s flimsy and the roof leaks
and as soon as it’s built,
it starts succumbing to the rain and the wind and the weather.

Our bodies are like sukkot.
Our lives are like sukkot.
The whole planet is like a sukkah.

It’s heartbreaking, when we let ourselves stop and feel it.
But here’s the thing:
when we let ourselves stop and feel it,
that’s when we let God in.

If that word doesn’t work for you, try another one.
When we let ourselves feel, we let compassion in.
When we let ourselves feel, we let wholeness in.
When we let ourselves feel, we let hope in.
We let in grace, and kindness, and truth.

In the Torah reading assigned to … the Shabbat that falls during Sukkot,
we read about Moshe asking to see God’s face.
God says, no one can look upon me and live,
but I’ll shelter you in this cleft of rock
and you can see my afterimage.

And then God passes by, proclaiming who God is:
the source of mercy and compassion, kindness and truth.

When we let ourselves feel, we feel what hurts – and we also feel what uplifts.
What endures beyond every broken place.

Sukkot is called zman simchateinu,
the time of our rejoicing …
Rejoicing doesn’t mean pretending away what hurts.
It means authenticity.
It means opening our hearts to everything:
the bitter and the sweet.


During Sukkot, may we be able to open our hearts —
and when we do,
may we be blessed with comfort and uplift and hope
to balm every broken place,
and may that strengthen us
to bring hope and justice into our fragile world.

מועד טובֿ מועדים לשמחה

A glimpse inside a well-preserved 19th century painted sukkah from Austria or south Germany in the Jewish Museum of Art and History (mahJ) in Paris (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)

Daily prayer in Ordinary Time 2025:
147, Monday 6 October 2025

An Orthodox icon of the Parable of the Good Samaritan, interpreting the parable according to Patristic and Orthodox traditions (Click on image for full-screen viewing)

Patrick Comerford

We are continuing in Ordinary Time in the Church Calendar, and this week began with the Sixteenth Sunday after Trinity (Trinity XVI, 5 October). The calendar of the Church of England in Common Worship today remembers William Tyndale (1494-1536), Translator of the Scriptures and Reformation Martyr.

In the Jewish calendar, Sukkot begins at sunset this evening (6 October) and conrtinues until nightfall next Monday (13 October). Sukkot is also known as the ‘Festival of Tabernacles’ or the ‘Feast of Booths,’ and it is one of the three central pilgrimage festivals in Judaism, alongside Passover and Shavuot. It is traditional in Jewish families and homes to mark this festival by building a sukkah or a temporary hut to stay over in during the holiday.

I hope to join other clergy in the Milton Keynes area for breakfast later this morning. Before today begins, however, I am taking some quiet time this morning to give thanks, and 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 Good Samaritan … a stained glass window by Charles Eamer Kempe in Saint Andrew’s Church, Great Linford, Buckinghamshire (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Luke 10: 25-37 (NRSVA):

25 Just then a lawyer stood up to test Jesus. ‘Teacher,’ he said, ‘what must I do to inherit eternal life?’ 26 He said to him, ‘What is written in the law? What do you read there?’ 27 He answered, ‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbour as yourself.’ 28 And he said to him, ‘You have given the right answer; do this, and you will live.’

29 But wanting to justify himself, he asked Jesus, ‘And who is my neighbour?’ 30 Jesus replied, ‘A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell into the hands of robbers, who stripped him, beat him, and went away, leaving him half dead. 31 Now by chance a priest was going down that road; and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. 32 So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. 33 But a Samaritan while travelling came near him; and when he saw him, he was moved with pity. 34 He went to him and bandaged his wounds, having poured oil and wine on them. Then he put him on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and took care of him. 35 The next day he took out two denarii, gave them to the innkeeper, and said, “Take care of him; and when I come back, I will repay you whatever more you spend.” 36 Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbour to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?’ 37 He said, ‘The one who showed him mercy.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Go and do likewise.’

The Good Samaritan … a modern icon

Today’s Reflection:

We are all very familiar with the parable of the Good Samaritan, so familiar and so used to it that we are probably comfortable with the explanations and sermons we have heard over the years about this episode in today’s Gospel reading (Luke 10: 25-37), leaving very little to our own imaginations.

But the Early Fathers offered another interpretation of this parable.

The man who goes down from Jerusalem to Jericho is Adam, or humanity, or each and every one of us.

What does it mean that he goes down from Jerusalem to Jericho?

Jerusalem is the holy city of God, the place where God is served in worship and in public prayer. It is an impregnable stronghold, but it is located in a hill country, where the soil is stony and barren.

On the other hand, Jericho lies below the sea level in the Jordan Valley, in an area that is very fertile and rich in vegetation.

Jerusalem signifies the Divine Commandments. These commandments, like the walls of a city, limit us and our desires, but also create a safe living space where we can live unharmed by sin.

A man being seduced by earthly pleasures, represented by Jericho, goes out from Jerusalem, the stronghold of Divine Commandments. Here, we might think of Adam and Eve, leaving the Garden and going out into the world.

But the robbers control this way. Who are the robbers?

When people abandon God and seek pleasures in other places, the way of bodily desires first appears to be full of joy. But as time passes, indulging in passions becomes a heavy burden on the soul; in place of pleasure it becomes endless slavery. A man realises that he has lost his freedom and has become a captive of his passions. A soul blinded by passions and wounded by sin becomes incapable of any spiritual activity.

Before God, such a man is half-dead. On the way, the man has been stripped of his raiment, deprived of the raiment of virtues and of the cover of God’s grace and protection.

In this patristic approach to reading the parable, the robbers are demons who act through our own passions. The man wounded by robbers represents fallen humanity before the coming of Christ.

Who then were the Priest and Levite who saw the wounded man and passed by without providing him any help?

The Priest and the Levite are ministers of God. They represent the saints and prophets sent by God from the beginning of time.

Why then is it said that they passed by without helping that man?

Did they not fulfil the ministry of preaching?

Yes, they did. They came to that place, they stopped, they saw the man and they passed by. But wounded humanity remained lying on the road. Moses came and passed away, Elijah came and passed away, other prophets came and passed away, but the illness of humanity remained without being healed.

Only God who has created us can recreate us.

This is how Isaiah speaks on the incurable disease of the humanity:

Why do you seek further beatings?
Why do you continue to rebel?
The whole head is sick,
and the whole heart faint.
From the sole of the foot even to the head,
there is no soundness in it,
but bruises and sores
and bleeding wounds;
they have not been drained, or bound up,
or softened with oil. (Isaiah 1: 5-6)

Who then is the Samaritan who goes down on the same road?

The Samaritans were the descendants of Israelites and the nations who migrated to Palestine under Assyrian rule after the destruction of Jerusalem. They lived to the south of Judea, between Judea and Galilee. Samaritans believed in the One God of Israel and kept the Law of Moses, but they developed their own traditions. For the Jews, they were heretics, and so Jews kept their distance from Samaritans.

Why then does Christ represent himself as a Samaritan?

The Pharisees mockingly labelled Christ a Samaritan, saying, ‘Are we not right in saying that you are a Samaritan and have a demon?’ (John 8: 48).

Christ humbly attributes to himself the name given to him by his detractors.

In addition, Greek Orthodox hymns note a similarity between the phrases ‘from Samaria’ and ‘from Mary,’ for in Greek these phrases sound similar. (For example, the Samarian Gorge in Crete takes its name not from Samaria but from the abandoned village and church of Óssia María or Saint Mary).

The Samaritan, moved with compassion, approaches the wounded man. He binds his wounds, pouring oil and wine on them. The oil symbolises mercy and the wine the true teaching of God. Then he brings the man to an inn where he can be taken care of.

This Gospel readings says that the Good Samaritan ‘put him on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and took care of him.’ However, in traditional icons, Christ carries the man on his back. Christ in the incarnation takes on our human nature, our soul and body. That is why in the parable he ‘set him on his own beast,’ interpreted by the Early Fathers that Christ makes us members of his own body.

There is a similar image in the parable of the Lost Sheep (see Luke 15). The Good Shepherd left 99 sheep in the desert and went after the lost sheep, representing humanity. When he found the lost sheep, he put it on his shoulders, rejoicing.

The inn in this parable represents the Church. The innkeeper represents bishops and priests. Christ establishes his Church which, like an inn, accepts and provides shelter for all. The wounded man should stay here to be taken care of. The Samaritan has to leave, however. He takes out two silver coins and gave them to the innkeeper, saying: ‘Take care of him; and when I come back, I will repay you whatever more you spend.’

Christ indicates his second coming when he will come not to heal our infirmities, but to judge the living and the dead, and to reward each one according to his works.

The silver the Samaritan gives to the innkeeper is the divine grace Christ gives to the Church; it heals and saves souls through the sacraments. Bishops and priests, the ministers of the sacraments of the Church, are the distributors of God’s gifts. They offer to others what they have received: the sacraments and the teaching of Christ. Are they able to spend more? What can they add from themselves to the gift of the Divine Grace? Their labour, their cares, their zeal, which Christ shall recompense them on the day of the Last Judgment.

In this interpretation of the parable of the Good Samaritan, Christ offers himself as the prime example of mercy and compassion. Through his compassion, he takes on our sufferings and becomes the true neighbour of all fallen humanity.

This is a reading of this parable that connects with the assertion in the New Testament reading that God through Christ ‘has rescued us from the power of darkness and transferred us into the kingdom.

The Good Samaritan window in Saint George’s Church, Belfast (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)

Today’s Prayers (Monday 6 October 2025):

The theme this week (5 to 11 October) in Pray with the World Church, the prayer diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), is ‘Disability inclusion in Zimbabwe’ (pp 44-45). This theme was introduced yesterday with Reflections from Makomborero Bowa, Lecturer in the Department of Philosophy Religion and Ethics in the University of Zimbabwe.

The USPG Prayer Diary today (Monday 6 October 2025) invites us to pray:

Lord, forgive us for when we have mistreated others. Help us to rejoice that you have made all people in your image.

The Collect:

Lord, give to your people grace to hear and keep your word
that, after the example of your servant William Tyndale,
we may not only profess your gospel
but also be ready to suffer and die for it,
to the honour of your name;
through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord,
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.

The Post Communion Prayer:

God our redeemer,
whose Church was strengthened by the blood of your martyr William Tyndale:
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.

Yesterday’s reflection

Continued tomorrow

The Good Samaritan … a stained glass window in Saint Mary’s Cathedral, Limerick (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible: Anglicised Edition copyright © 1989, 1995 National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide. http://nrsvbibles.org