Saint Katherine’s Church, the Greek Orthodox Church in Friern Barnet, is surrounded by a large wooded churchyard (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Patrick Comerford
I spent a day recently visiting Saint Katherine’s Church, the Greek Orthodox Church in Friern Barnet, where the parish priest, Archimandrite Damianos Konstantinou
Introduced me to the church and the area around Friern Barnet, Finchley, Mill Hill and Golder’s Green. His parish has a large population of Greek Cypriots and Greek-speaking families.
Father Damian and I were introduced through a number of mutual friends, including the writer Richar Pine, a regular contributor to The Irish Times and founder of the Durrell School of Corfu, where I lectured in 2006, Euthymius Petrou in Athens and Father Gregory Wellington of the Greek Orthodox Church in Stony Stratford.
Over the day, our conversations ranged across a vast range of shared interests, from Sir Richard Church, Sir Charles Napier and the Irish Philhellenes and the folk music of Zakynthos to Epitaphios processions in Corfu, from the current crisis at Saint Katherine’s Monastery on Mount Sinai and the plight of the Greek Orthodox Patriarchate in Jerusalem, to Italian opera, the songs of Maria Farandouri and modern Greek poetry.
Inside Saint Katherine’s Church, facing towards the iconostasis, the altar and the east end (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Saint Katherine’s Greek Orthodox Church is picturesque country church in Friern Park that dates from 1853 and that was originally known as Saint James’s Church. The church stands on the corner of Friern Barnet Lane and Friary Road, on the main north-south road through the village. The church is surrounded by 20th century housing but retains its large wooded churchyard.
Friern Barnet was once a small, rural parish seven miles north of London. Its original name, Little Barnet, distinguished it from the larger part of Barnet that was in Hertfordshire.
The story of this church goes back 800 years to a time when there was a friary in the area serving pilgrims on their way to and from St Albans. The manor later called Friern Barnet or Whetstone seems to have been held by St Albans Abbey before the Conquest, but it was taken from that abbey by William I and apparently given to the Bishop of London.
Inside Saint Katherine’s Church, facing the west end from the iconostasis and the altar at the east end (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
A church was first mentioned in 1187, probably Saint James’s. By the late 12th century, the lands in Barnet were held by John Picot from the Bishop of London. By 1199, Bishop Gilbert Foliot or his successor Richard FitzNeal had given these lands to the Knights Hospitaller, following Picot’s surrender of them.
The name of Friern Barnet did not appear before 1294 and reflected the lordship of the Brotherhood of the Knights Hospitaller.
With the dissolution of the monastic houses and the Hospitallers in 1540 the manor of Friern Barnet passed to the Crown and then to Saint Paul’s Cathedral.
The 12th century Romanesque south doorway was restored and reset by the Habershon brothers (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
The original Norman church was a simple one with of a nave and chancel with a south porch and a wooden west tower. The church today consists of a chancel with a north vestry, a nave with south aisle, a porch and a tower with a shingled spire at the south-west. The exterior is of flint, with stone dressings. The Friern Barnet Parishioners War Memorial stands in the churchyard.
Today’s church owes its appearance to a major restoration and enlargement in 1853 by the brothers William Habershon (1819-1892) and Edward Habershon (1826-1900). The Habershon brothers specialised in neo-gothic buildings, especially churches and chapels. They increased the seating capacity of the church from 200 to 500 and reset the 12th century Romanesque south doorway – although it is heavily restored, many of the original stones survive.
The 1853 tower collapsed in 1930 and was rebuilt on the same plan.
An octagonal parish room, the Jubilee Hall, was added on the north side of the nave in 1977, and it is reached through the church by the north nave doorway.
The Jubilee Hall, an octagonal parish room, was added on the north side of the church in 1977 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Saint John the Evangelist Church on Friern Barnet Lane was built in 1910 as a chapel-of-ease to Saint James’s, which was no longer large enough for the expanding population.
Saint James’s continued to serve the parish until 2009, when Church of England services for Friern Barnet were transferred to Saint John’s Church on Friern Barnet Road and Saint James’s was leased to the local Greek Orthodox community, who renamed it Saint Katherine’s Church.
Saint Katherine’s Greek Orthodox Community was formally established in 1985, mainly through the efforts and energy of Katina Antoniou. Father Nicodemos Velalopoulos was the first priest, and services were held in a number of local Anglican churches until the parish found space in All Saints’ Church, Whetstone, in 1986.
A large and Greek and Greek Cypriot community have been based in Hendon since the 1960s, with a church and under the leadership of Bishop Aristarchos of Zenoupolis, and later served by Father Andrew Panayiotou from 1986.
An icon of Saint Katherine of Alexandria in Saint Katherine’s Church, Friern Barnet (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Six years after the church was founded, it moved in 1992 to Saint Mark’s Church in New Barnet. Father Damian, the Very Revd Archimandrite Damianos Konstantinou, was appointed priest-in-charge of the church 30 years ago in October 1995.
After studying journalism in Athens, he went to Saint Catherine’s Monastery on Mount Sinai, and was ordained in Jerusalem, where he served for 11 years in the Patriarchate, and has been a chaplain in the Greek army.
He has also studied theology in Athens, Italian language and culture in Perugia, and teacher training in Nottingham, and he has an MA in Religion and Politics from Saint Mary’s University, London. He has served the Greek Orthodox community in Aylesbury, and was chaplain to the Mayor of Barnet, Pantelitsa Rutte, in 2011-2012. He has a particular interest in the Irish Philhellenes, with a yearning to correct the name of the street in Athens named after Sir Richard Church from Cork.
Saint Katherine’s found a new home at Saint James the Great Church, Friern Barnet, in 2009 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Although at first his church services in the new parish were few, there were several community events and significant visits by Archbishop Damianos of Sinai in June 1996 and the late Patriarch Petros of Alexandria in September 1997. The choir of Saint George Karytsis Church in Athens visited in 2000, and sang at the feast day of Saint Catherine and at a millennium concert.
A plan to build a new church in 2004 was never realised. However, Saint Katherine’s found a new home in 2009 at Saint James the Great Church at Friern Barnet Lane. The congregation soon tripled in number and the Jubilee Hall began to host many events.
The hall was upgraded, and work on the church included repairs to the masonry, landscaping, roof cleaning, maintenance of the bell tower and other improvements.
The flame passed outside the church as it was carried through London on 26 July 2012, when the road was bedecked with Greek flags. This was followed by an Olympic Concert in the church.
Father Gregory Wellington was ordained deacon for the church in 2011 and priest in January 2014. He was there as deacon in 2011-2014 and as assistant priest in 2014-2023.
The church had a major renovation at the end of 2016 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
During a major renovation of the church from September 2016, the church found alternative accommodation for three months in All Saints’ Church, Whetstone.
More recently, the church was renovated internally, new lighting was installed along with new electrical installations, flooring and painting, all signs of hope for and an investment in the future of Saint Katherine’s.
When I visited Saint Katherine’s last Tuesday, the south porch was decorated joyfully with flags from Greece, Cyprus, Albania, Romania, the UK and other countries, representing the cultural diversity found in this Orthodox community.
Matins and the Divine Liturgy are celebrated in Saint Katherine’s Church, Friern Barnet, from 9:30 am on Sundays (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
• The services at Saint Katherine’s Church include Matins and Divine Liturgy on Sundays (9:30 am to 12 noon), on weekdays (9:30 to 11:15 am) and Vespers (Summer 7 pm, Winter 6 pm), with other services according to the Church calendar.
With Archimandrite Damianos Konstantinou (Father Damian) in Saint Katherine’s Church (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
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12 October 2025
Daily prayer in Ordinary Time 2025:
153, Sunday 12 October 2025,
Seventeenth Sunday after Trinity (Trinity XVII)
As he entered a village, ten lepers approached him … they called out, saying, ‘Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!’ (Luke 17: 12-13)
Patrick Comerford
We are continuing in Ordinary Time in the Church Calendar, and today is the Seventeenth Sunday after Trinity (Trinity XVII, 12 October 2025). Later this morning, I hope to take part in the Parish Eucharist in Saint Mary and Saint Giles Church, Stony Stratford, reading one of the lessons.
The calendar of the Greek Orthodox Church, as I was reminded at Vespers last night, today commemorates the Fathers of the Seventh Ecumenical Council (nicaea II), the 365 bishops and priests at the Second Council of Nicaea in 787 who condemned the iconoclast heresy and restored the veneration of icons in the Church. Before today begins, 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.
James Tissot (1836-1902), ‘The Healing of Ten Lepers’ (‘Guérison de dix lépreux’), 1886-1896, Brooklyn Museum
Luke 17: 11-19 (NRSVA):
11 On the way to Jerusalem Jesus was going through the region between Samaria and Galilee. 12 As he entered a village, ten lepers approached him. Keeping their distance, 13 they called out, saying, ‘Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!’ 14 When he saw them, he said to them, ‘Go and show yourselves to the priests.’ And as they went, they were made clean. 15 Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice. 16 He prostrated himself at Jesus’ feet and thanked him. And he was a Samaritan. 17 Then Jesus asked, ‘Were not ten made clean? But the other nine, where are they? 18 Was none of them found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?’ 19 Then he said to him, ‘Get up and go on your way; your faith has made you well.’
The ‘Leper’s Squint’ and the Arthur Memorial behind the organ in Saint Mary’s Cathedral, Limerick (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Today’s Reflections:
This morning’s Gospel reading at the Eucharist (Luke 17: 11-19) provides many opportunities for many sermons on faith and healing, inclusion and exclusion, how Christ meets our every need, how we need conversion, on the connection between healing of the body and healing of the soul, perhaps even on the value of good manners and learning to say thank you.
Some parishes are going to hear about one Samaritan who returns and says thank you. Others may hear about nine other lepers who did exactly as they were told, went and showed themselves to the priests, received a clean bill of health and were restored to their rightful place in the community of faith.
But which is the greatest miracle for you: the healing of these 10 people?
Or their restoration to their rightful places in the community of faith?
Perhaps it is worth noting that it is the 10 men, not Christ, who keep their distance on the outskirts of the village, because they are forced to behave this way, to be marginalised and to live on the margins.
Christ keeps his distance, as might be expected. Yet, from that distance, he sees. Many Bibles have verse 14 to say that ‘he saw them.’ But the Greek says simply, καὶ ἰδὼν (kai idon), ‘and having seen,’ without any object, there is no ‘them.’
For Christ, we are not mere objects; and for Christ there is no ‘us’ and ‘them.’ He sees the future without the limits of the present.
This is a story about trusting in God’s plans for the future, rather than living in the past, living with the fears of the present, living without hope for the future … precisely the context for the urgings and exhortations to the exiles by the Prophet Jeremiah in the Old Testament reading (Jeremiah 29: 1, 4-7), precisely the hope the Apostle Paul has for Saint Timothy in the epistle reading (II Timothy 2: 8-15).
But we foil those plans, we quench those hopes, we continue to live in the past, when we continue to limit Christ’s saving powers with our own limitations, continue to look at him with our own limited vision.
Christ sees … sees it as it is in the present, and as it could be in the future.
Perhaps this is why Saint Luke has placed this story in a location that is an in-between place, the region between Galilee and Samaria. The place between Galilee and Samaria is neither one nor the other, neither this earthly existence nor what the future holds, but still on the way to Jerusalem.
Even the village here is not named.
We should not forget that not one but 10 were healed. Christ does good – even to those who will not be thankful.
And even then, we do not know why the other nine did not return to say thanks. It took an eight-day waiting process for a person with leprosy to be declared clean by the priests.
After those eight days, did they then go and give thanks to God in their local synagogues?
Did they first breathe sighs of relief and return to the families they loved but had been isolated from for so long?
Did they return to that unnamed village, and find that 10 days later Jesus had moved on … the next named place we find him in is Jericho (see Luke 19: 1-10, the Fourth Sunday before Advent, 3 November 2025)?
Surely Christ does good without expecting a thanks that comes straight from some Victorian book on good manners.
How often when we give a gift to someone do we want to control how they use it?
I give a Christmas present or a birthday gift, and then I am upset when they do not like it, when they trade it in for something else, or rewrap it and pass it on to someone else, or simply just never say thank you or acknowledge what I have done for them.
But who was the gift supposed to benefit: me as the giver, or you as the receiver? What was it a token of: my love for you, or my need for you to acknowledge how important I am to you?
A begrudging attitude to how others receive and use the gifts I give, or taking offence when I feel they have not thanked me enough, amount to a passive aggressive attitude on my part, a desire to control. If we give gifts only to be thanked, are we truly generous?
And if I only say thank you so I remain in someone else’s esteem, perhaps even to be rewarded again, to be kept on their invitation list, am I truly grateful?
Christ is not passively aggressive in this story. He is not seeking to control. He sends the 10 on their way … and they go. If he had expected them to return, he would not have been surprised that one returned; he would have waited around in that unnamed village until the other nine had time to make their humble ways back there to thank him.
Instead, it is more important what Christ frees them for, and where he frees them.
He frees them to regain their place in the community, in the social, economic and religious community that is their rightful place.
For the Samaritan, his ‘faith has made him well’: ἡπίστις σου σέσωκέν σε, or, more accurately, your faith has saved you, rescued you, restored you. The word σῴζω is all about being saved, rescued, restored, ransomed, and not just about regaining health and physical well-being.
That land between Samaria and Galilee is where we find Christ today. The in-between place, the nowhere land, the place where people need to be saved, ransomed, rescued, restored.
We all find ourselves in the in-between place, the nowhere land … to borrow a phrase from TS Eliot, wandering in the ‘Waste Land.’
Perhaps, just for one moment, it is possible to imagine that Christ has arrived in that particular in-between place for a reason. For the land between Samaria and Galilee is neither one place nor the other.
And that in-between place is a place where I might find myself unsure of who belongs and who does not, where I might be uncertain, untrusting, even frightened and afraid. It is a place where the usual rules may not apply, where I do not know my place, where I do not fit in, where I appear not as the person God see as the true me, but as others want to see me.
This is the place where Christ is travelling through in this Gospel story this morning. It seems to me that I am often travelling in that place every day, today.
It is difficult travelling in this in-between land. When we realise we are there, then it may be easier to identify with the 10 Lepers, cast out into the in-between land, not knowing where to go, rather than with those who appear certain about where they are going.
When we get to where you are going, we should remember how we feel about the present unknown, whether it is fear – ‘I will show you fear in a handful of dust’ – whether it is trepidation, anticipation, or joy that is tinged with all of these, in this in-between time, this nowhere place.
Shakespeare reminds us, in the words of Portia in The Merchant of Venice,
The quality of mercy is not strained;
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven … (The Merchant of Venice, Act IV, Scene 1)
These 10 lepers were cut off from all they knew and loved, all the certainties they once enjoyed or took for granted.
And when we move from an in-between place and nowhere land, we should not hold back from the call to join the task of cleansing, healing, restoration. We do it not for ‘Thank Yous’ and plaudits. It is not about you, it is not all about me.
Indeed, it is not this one man’s thanks that is important, but that his thanks is expressed in turning around, conversion, and praising God, bowing down before Christ as his Master and as the Lord God.
Martin Luther was once asked to describe the nature of true worship. His answer was the tenth leper turning back.
Christ invites us into that region between Samaria and Galilee, that space between wrong-doing and right-doing, between them and us – and bids us find our healing and salvation – and theirs. And in doing that we find ourselves engaged, quite naturally, in true worship. And in Christ we realise that there is no us and them – there is only us.
‘Remember Jesus Christ, raised from the dead, a descendant of David – that is my gospel’ (II Timothy 2: 8) … the icon cross in Lichfield Cathedral (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Today’s Prayers (Sunday 12 October 2025, Trinity XVII):
The theme this week (12 to 18 October) in Pray with the World Church, the prayer diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), is ‘A Life Dedicated to Care’ (pp 46-47). This theme is introduced today with a programme update on Sister Gillian Rose of the Bollobhpur Mission Hospital, Church of Bangladesh:
Sister Gillian Rose, now in her mid-80s, moved from England to Bangladesh in 1964 when the country was still known as East Pakistan. She has since devoted her life to serving at Bollobhpur Mission Hospital in Kushtia, western Bangladesh, and regularly writes letters to USPG to share updates.
In a recent letter, Sister Gillian describes the hospital as ‘a little oasis of peace,’ where staff live and work harmoniously together, regardless of religious or political background. In a country marked by political unrest, she finds joy in the sight of a diverse group of student nurses – Christians, Hindus, Muslims, and Buddhists – living and working side by side.
Beyond providing medical care, the hospital offers spiritual support. Staff visit nearby villages three times a week, offering healthcare, prayers, and sacraments to those who wish to receive them. Sister Gillian concludes, ‘My faith is the basis of all I do, and faith is the foundation of the hospital’s work too. We are a Christian hospital, and we serve as a Christian witness in the community.’
The USPG Prayer Diary today (Sunday 12 October 2025, Trinity XVII) invites us to pray as we read and meditate on Luke 17: 11-19.
The Collect:
Almighty God,
you have made us for yourself,
and our hearts are restless till they find their rest in you:
pour your love into our hearts and draw us to yourself,
and so bring us at last to your heavenly city
where we shall see you face to face;
through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord,
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.
The Post Communion Prayer:
Lord, we pray that your grace
may always precede and follow us,
and make us continually to be given to all good works;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Additional Collect:
Gracious God,
you call us to fullness of life:
deliver us from unbelief
and banish our anxieties
with the liberating love of Jesus Christ our Lord.
Yesterday’s Reflection
Continued Tomorrow
‘Be joyful in God, all the earth; sing the glory of his name; sing the glory of his praise’ (Psalm 66: 1) … at the mouth of the river in Messonghi in Corfu (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
Patrick Comerford
We are continuing in Ordinary Time in the Church Calendar, and today is the Seventeenth Sunday after Trinity (Trinity XVII, 12 October 2025). Later this morning, I hope to take part in the Parish Eucharist in Saint Mary and Saint Giles Church, Stony Stratford, reading one of the lessons.
The calendar of the Greek Orthodox Church, as I was reminded at Vespers last night, today commemorates the Fathers of the Seventh Ecumenical Council (nicaea II), the 365 bishops and priests at the Second Council of Nicaea in 787 who condemned the iconoclast heresy and restored the veneration of icons in the Church. Before today begins, 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.
James Tissot (1836-1902), ‘The Healing of Ten Lepers’ (‘Guérison de dix lépreux’), 1886-1896, Brooklyn Museum
Luke 17: 11-19 (NRSVA):
11 On the way to Jerusalem Jesus was going through the region between Samaria and Galilee. 12 As he entered a village, ten lepers approached him. Keeping their distance, 13 they called out, saying, ‘Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!’ 14 When he saw them, he said to them, ‘Go and show yourselves to the priests.’ And as they went, they were made clean. 15 Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice. 16 He prostrated himself at Jesus’ feet and thanked him. And he was a Samaritan. 17 Then Jesus asked, ‘Were not ten made clean? But the other nine, where are they? 18 Was none of them found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?’ 19 Then he said to him, ‘Get up and go on your way; your faith has made you well.’
The ‘Leper’s Squint’ and the Arthur Memorial behind the organ in Saint Mary’s Cathedral, Limerick (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Today’s Reflections:
This morning’s Gospel reading at the Eucharist (Luke 17: 11-19) provides many opportunities for many sermons on faith and healing, inclusion and exclusion, how Christ meets our every need, how we need conversion, on the connection between healing of the body and healing of the soul, perhaps even on the value of good manners and learning to say thank you.
Some parishes are going to hear about one Samaritan who returns and says thank you. Others may hear about nine other lepers who did exactly as they were told, went and showed themselves to the priests, received a clean bill of health and were restored to their rightful place in the community of faith.
But which is the greatest miracle for you: the healing of these 10 people?
Or their restoration to their rightful places in the community of faith?
Perhaps it is worth noting that it is the 10 men, not Christ, who keep their distance on the outskirts of the village, because they are forced to behave this way, to be marginalised and to live on the margins.
Christ keeps his distance, as might be expected. Yet, from that distance, he sees. Many Bibles have verse 14 to say that ‘he saw them.’ But the Greek says simply, καὶ ἰδὼν (kai idon), ‘and having seen,’ without any object, there is no ‘them.’
For Christ, we are not mere objects; and for Christ there is no ‘us’ and ‘them.’ He sees the future without the limits of the present.
This is a story about trusting in God’s plans for the future, rather than living in the past, living with the fears of the present, living without hope for the future … precisely the context for the urgings and exhortations to the exiles by the Prophet Jeremiah in the Old Testament reading (Jeremiah 29: 1, 4-7), precisely the hope the Apostle Paul has for Saint Timothy in the epistle reading (II Timothy 2: 8-15).
But we foil those plans, we quench those hopes, we continue to live in the past, when we continue to limit Christ’s saving powers with our own limitations, continue to look at him with our own limited vision.
Christ sees … sees it as it is in the present, and as it could be in the future.
Perhaps this is why Saint Luke has placed this story in a location that is an in-between place, the region between Galilee and Samaria. The place between Galilee and Samaria is neither one nor the other, neither this earthly existence nor what the future holds, but still on the way to Jerusalem.
Even the village here is not named.
We should not forget that not one but 10 were healed. Christ does good – even to those who will not be thankful.
And even then, we do not know why the other nine did not return to say thanks. It took an eight-day waiting process for a person with leprosy to be declared clean by the priests.
After those eight days, did they then go and give thanks to God in their local synagogues?
Did they first breathe sighs of relief and return to the families they loved but had been isolated from for so long?
Did they return to that unnamed village, and find that 10 days later Jesus had moved on … the next named place we find him in is Jericho (see Luke 19: 1-10, the Fourth Sunday before Advent, 3 November 2025)?
Surely Christ does good without expecting a thanks that comes straight from some Victorian book on good manners.
How often when we give a gift to someone do we want to control how they use it?
I give a Christmas present or a birthday gift, and then I am upset when they do not like it, when they trade it in for something else, or rewrap it and pass it on to someone else, or simply just never say thank you or acknowledge what I have done for them.
But who was the gift supposed to benefit: me as the giver, or you as the receiver? What was it a token of: my love for you, or my need for you to acknowledge how important I am to you?
A begrudging attitude to how others receive and use the gifts I give, or taking offence when I feel they have not thanked me enough, amount to a passive aggressive attitude on my part, a desire to control. If we give gifts only to be thanked, are we truly generous?
And if I only say thank you so I remain in someone else’s esteem, perhaps even to be rewarded again, to be kept on their invitation list, am I truly grateful?
Christ is not passively aggressive in this story. He is not seeking to control. He sends the 10 on their way … and they go. If he had expected them to return, he would not have been surprised that one returned; he would have waited around in that unnamed village until the other nine had time to make their humble ways back there to thank him.
Instead, it is more important what Christ frees them for, and where he frees them.
He frees them to regain their place in the community, in the social, economic and religious community that is their rightful place.
For the Samaritan, his ‘faith has made him well’: ἡπίστις σου σέσωκέν σε, or, more accurately, your faith has saved you, rescued you, restored you. The word σῴζω is all about being saved, rescued, restored, ransomed, and not just about regaining health and physical well-being.
That land between Samaria and Galilee is where we find Christ today. The in-between place, the nowhere land, the place where people need to be saved, ransomed, rescued, restored.
We all find ourselves in the in-between place, the nowhere land … to borrow a phrase from TS Eliot, wandering in the ‘Waste Land.’
Perhaps, just for one moment, it is possible to imagine that Christ has arrived in that particular in-between place for a reason. For the land between Samaria and Galilee is neither one place nor the other.
And that in-between place is a place where I might find myself unsure of who belongs and who does not, where I might be uncertain, untrusting, even frightened and afraid. It is a place where the usual rules may not apply, where I do not know my place, where I do not fit in, where I appear not as the person God see as the true me, but as others want to see me.
This is the place where Christ is travelling through in this Gospel story this morning. It seems to me that I am often travelling in that place every day, today.
It is difficult travelling in this in-between land. When we realise we are there, then it may be easier to identify with the 10 Lepers, cast out into the in-between land, not knowing where to go, rather than with those who appear certain about where they are going.
When we get to where you are going, we should remember how we feel about the present unknown, whether it is fear – ‘I will show you fear in a handful of dust’ – whether it is trepidation, anticipation, or joy that is tinged with all of these, in this in-between time, this nowhere place.
Shakespeare reminds us, in the words of Portia in The Merchant of Venice,
The quality of mercy is not strained;
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven … (The Merchant of Venice, Act IV, Scene 1)
These 10 lepers were cut off from all they knew and loved, all the certainties they once enjoyed or took for granted.
And when we move from an in-between place and nowhere land, we should not hold back from the call to join the task of cleansing, healing, restoration. We do it not for ‘Thank Yous’ and plaudits. It is not about you, it is not all about me.
Indeed, it is not this one man’s thanks that is important, but that his thanks is expressed in turning around, conversion, and praising God, bowing down before Christ as his Master and as the Lord God.
Martin Luther was once asked to describe the nature of true worship. His answer was the tenth leper turning back.
Christ invites us into that region between Samaria and Galilee, that space between wrong-doing and right-doing, between them and us – and bids us find our healing and salvation – and theirs. And in doing that we find ourselves engaged, quite naturally, in true worship. And in Christ we realise that there is no us and them – there is only us.
‘Remember Jesus Christ, raised from the dead, a descendant of David – that is my gospel’ (II Timothy 2: 8) … the icon cross in Lichfield Cathedral (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Today’s Prayers (Sunday 12 October 2025, Trinity XVII):
The theme this week (12 to 18 October) in Pray with the World Church, the prayer diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), is ‘A Life Dedicated to Care’ (pp 46-47). This theme is introduced today with a programme update on Sister Gillian Rose of the Bollobhpur Mission Hospital, Church of Bangladesh:
Sister Gillian Rose, now in her mid-80s, moved from England to Bangladesh in 1964 when the country was still known as East Pakistan. She has since devoted her life to serving at Bollobhpur Mission Hospital in Kushtia, western Bangladesh, and regularly writes letters to USPG to share updates.
In a recent letter, Sister Gillian describes the hospital as ‘a little oasis of peace,’ where staff live and work harmoniously together, regardless of religious or political background. In a country marked by political unrest, she finds joy in the sight of a diverse group of student nurses – Christians, Hindus, Muslims, and Buddhists – living and working side by side.
Beyond providing medical care, the hospital offers spiritual support. Staff visit nearby villages three times a week, offering healthcare, prayers, and sacraments to those who wish to receive them. Sister Gillian concludes, ‘My faith is the basis of all I do, and faith is the foundation of the hospital’s work too. We are a Christian hospital, and we serve as a Christian witness in the community.’
The USPG Prayer Diary today (Sunday 12 October 2025, Trinity XVII) invites us to pray as we read and meditate on Luke 17: 11-19.
The Collect:
Almighty God,
you have made us for yourself,
and our hearts are restless till they find their rest in you:
pour your love into our hearts and draw us to yourself,
and so bring us at last to your heavenly city
where we shall see you face to face;
through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord,
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.
The Post Communion Prayer:
Lord, we pray that your grace
may always precede and follow us,
and make us continually to be given to all good works;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Additional Collect:
Gracious God,
you call us to fullness of life:
deliver us from unbelief
and banish our anxieties
with the liberating love of Jesus Christ our Lord.
Yesterday’s Reflection
Continued Tomorrow
‘Be joyful in God, all the earth; sing the glory of his name; sing the glory of his praise’ (Psalm 66: 1) … at the mouth of the river in Messonghi in Corfu (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