The Greeks have a word – or two – for it: 58, ἐπιφάνεια (epipháneia), θεοφάνεια, (theopháneia),Epiphany and Theophany

The Blessing of the Water at the Venetian harbour in Rethymnon … a Theophany or Epiphany tradition that brings the Christmas celebrations to a close (Photograph: Municipality of Rethymno, 2026)

Patrick Comerford

Tomorrow (6 January) is the Feast of the Epiphany, which celebrates three Epiphanies of Theophanies, when God is seen as present among us in the person of Christ:

1, The visit of the Magi (Matthew 2: 1-12);

2, The Baptism of Christ (Matthew 3: 13-17; Mark 1: 9-11; Luke 3: 15-22; John 1: 29-33);

3, The Wedding at Cana (John 2: 1-11).

Alternative names for the feast in Greek include τα Θεοφάνια (ta Theophánia), ‘Theophany’, a neuter plural rather than feminine singular; η Ημέρα των Φώτων (i Iméra ton Fóton), ‘The Day of the Lights’, and τα Φώτα (ta Fóta), ‘The Lights’.

We often describe the moment when something enlightens us or dawns on us as an Epiphany moment. But in theological terms, an Epiphany or Theophany is a moment when God becomes manifest, when people realise who Christ truly is.

In Greece and among Greek speakers, tomorrow (6 January) is Θεοφάνεια (Theophania) and brings the Christmas celebrations to a conclusion. People are going to gather at the nearest seaside, lake or river, where the priest blesses a cross, throws it into the water, and young men dive in to retrieve the cross.

The Feast of the Holy Epiphany or Holy Theophany (Γιορτή των Αγίων Θεοφανείων) is being marked tomorrow (6 January) by the Greek Orthodox Community in Stony Stratford with Orthros (9 am), the Divine Liturgy, the Great Anointing, and the Blessing of the Great Ouse.

But what is the difference between Epiphany and Theophany, in theology, language and culture?

An icon of the Baptism of Christ, worked on a cut of olive wood by Eleftheria Syrianoglou, in an exhibition in the Fortezza in Rethymnon, Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

The word Epiphany, from the Koine Greek ἐπιφάνεια (epipháneia), means a manifestation or appearance. It is derived from the verb φαίνειν (phainein), meaning ‘to appear’. In classical Greek it was used for the appearance of dawn or of an enemy in war, for example, but especially of a manifestation of a deity to a worshipper.

In the Septuagint, the word is used of a manifestation of the God of Israel (II Maccabees 15: 27). In the New Testament, the word is used in II Timothy 1: 10 to refer either to the birth of Christ or to his appearance after his resurrection, and five times to refer to his Second Coming.

Epiphanies, or visions of gods, were reported and believed in many cities in ancient Greece. They were most commonly reported on the battlefields and, during moments of crisis, when citizens were most eager to believe that the gods of their poliswere coming to assist them.

An alleged visitation or manifestation of a god was known as an epiphaneia (ἡ ἐπιφάνεια). Sometimes the gods who appeared were prominent deities, but more often, they were minor figures, whose shrines were linked to the location of a particular event or battle. The gods did not always reveal themselves to mortals, but could indicate their presence through physical signs or unusual phenomena.

They could also appear to individuals, particularly in dreams. But epiphanies tend to have been reported more frequently at times of extreme danger, such as the Persian Wars. For example, at the Battle of Marathon in 490 it was said that Pan, Theseus and others fought against the Persians. It was widely said that on the eve of the battle of Marathon the runner Pheidippides met Pan on Mount Parthenion, where the god promised to support the Athenians. After their unexpected victory, the Athenians introduced the cult of Pan to their city.

At the Battle of Salamis, visions of the sons of Aias were reported. Themistokles said that the Greek victory over the Persian fleet at Salamis was aided by gods and heroes.

Accounts of attacks on Delphi, the most sacred Panhellenic sanctuary, attracted reports of battlefield epiphanies. Herodotos says that when the forces of Xerxes attacked the sanctuary in 480 BCE, two giant heroes were seen repelling the Persians. But not all epiphanies were believed. Dionysios of Halikarnassos said that many accounts of epiphanies were ridiculed.

The name Epiphanes was used by the Seleucid and Ptolemaic dynasties who ruled in Hellenised Egypt and in the Hellenistic Seleucid Empire in Syria, both successors to Alexander the Great’s broken empire. In their vanity, they adopted the divine-sounding epithet Epiphanes, meaning ‘god manifest’, to enhance their royal image.

Ptolemy V Epiphanes reigned in 204-181 BCE and took this title in a display of a Hellenistic trend of divine self-presentation.

Antiochus IV Epiphanes reigned as the Seleucid king in Syria from 175 to 164 BCE. He seized power, aggressively promoted Hellenisation, attempted to suppress Judaism, and sparked the Maccabean revolt, recalled in the Jewish festival of Hanukkah. He became a major villain in Jewish history and has been described as ‘the Bible’s most notoriously forgotten villain; equalling Pharaoh of the Exodus and King Nebuchadnezzar, or some of the Israelite monarchs, such as Saul and Ahab, or the great villains in the New Testament, including King Herod the Great and the Roman emperors Nero and Domitian.

By calling himself Epiphanes, Antiochus also claimed to be Zeus incarnate. According to the books of Maccabees and the Jewish historian Josephus, Antiochus plundered the Jerusalem Temple and carried off the sacred vessels to help finance his campaigns.

When Antiochus arrived in Jerusalem, he slaying many innocents and brutally enforcing his cultural and religious policies on the population, outlawing circumcision, burning sacred scriptures, and imposing brutally punishments, including death. Antiochus built a new fortress known as the Acra or ‘the Citadel’ and proceeded to profane the Temple by erecting idols and sacrificing pigs to Zeus on the altar.

The Jewish revolt led by the Maccabees is celebrated at Hanukkah. Soon after, the Seleucid kingdom crumbled as well. The Greek historian Polybius, in a pun in Greek, referred to Antiochus as Ἐπιμανής (Epimanes), ‘the Insane One’.

The Adoration of the Magi, by Mikhail Damaskinos (ca 1585-1591) in the Museum of Christian Art in the Church of Saint Catherine of Sinai, Iraklion (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

The word epiphany does not appear in the Greek Orthodox liturgical texts for the feast of the Theophany on 6 January.

The word theophany derives from the Ancient Greek θεοφάνεια (theopháneia), meaning ‘appearance of a god’ from θεός (theós), ‘divinity’, and φαίνειν (phainein), ‘to show’ or ‘to appear’. A theophany was an ‘appearance of a deity’, or an encounter with a deity that manifests in a visible, observable and tangible form. But they are not considered theophanies unless the deity reveals itself in a visible form.

While the Iliad is the earliest source for descriptions of theophanies in classical antiquity, the first description appears in the Epic of Gilgamesh.

These appearances of deities to humans could be in anthropomorphic form or as other phenomena, such as light, fire, or cloud, and often served to affirm the deity’s favour, deliver a message, or enact divine will. In the Hebrew Bible and related literature, theophanies are often characterised by awe-inspiring phenomena such as thunder, fire, clouds, or bright light.

In ancient Greek religion, theophanies typically occurred through visions or dreams, either spontaneously or as the result of ritual preparation. Although rare in historical accounts, mythological literature contains numerous examples of gods appearing to mortals in anthropomorphic form. These include Zeus appearing to Semele, Athena guiding Odysseus, or Apollo communicating with seers and prophets.

In cult practices, theophanies were reenacted and commemorated in ritual settings. The theophania (θεοφάνια) at Delphi was an annual spring festival celebrating the return of Apollo from his winter sojourn.

The Theophany is one of the Great Feasts of the Orthodox Church, celebrated on 6 January. This feast recalls the Baptism of Christ by Saint John the Baptist or Saint John the Forerunner in the River Jordan, marking the beginning of Christ’s earthly ministry and revealing God as Trinity: the Father’s voice is heard above, the Son is incarnate and standing physically in the Jordan, and the Holy Spirit descends on him.

On this day, the day before Theophania, children go house-to-house singing kalanta (carols) and are given coins or sweets in return. In churches, on the eve of the feast, the Mikros Agiasmos (the Lesser Blessing of the Waters) is celebrated, where a bowl of water is blessed and distributed among people.

The Feast of the Theophany tomorrow is the culmination of the Christmas Season, starting on 25 December and ending on 6 January. The traditional celebrations include the Great Blessing of Water, Μέγας Αγιασμός (Megas Agiasmos). In Rethymnon, the ceremony takes place at the Venetian Harbour, with hundreds of people lining the harbour front to see the celebrations.

After the final prayer, the priest raises his arm and throws a wooden crucifix out across the water. As he does this, swimmers dive headfirst, and thrash frantically to find where the cross has landed. Stretching out to grab the holy prize, the winner clutches the cross before kissing it, and holding it high above their head. One man is said to have retrieved the cross in Rethymnon on 11 consecutive years.

Retrieving the cross was traditionally reserved for men. But in 2018 in the village of Platanias, west of Chania, Maria Varouxaki became the first woman in Crete to take part and beat her all-male competitors.

‘We three kings of Orient’ … the Adoration of the Magi in a Christmas card from the Institute for Orthodox Christian Studies, Cambridge

Previous words in this series:

1, Neologism, Νεολογισμός.

2, Welcoming the stranger, Φιλοξενία.

3, Bread, Ψωμί.

4, Wine, Οίνος and Κρασί.

5, Yogurt, Γιαούρτι.

6, Orthodoxy, Ορθοδοξία.

7, Sea, Θᾰ́λᾰσσᾰ.

8,Theology, Θεολογία.

9, Icon, Εἰκών.

10, Philosophy, Φιλοσοφία.

11, Chaos, Χάος.

12, Liturgy, Λειτουργία.

13, Greeks, Ἕλληνες or Ρωμαίοι.

14, Mañana, Αύριο.

15, Europe, Εὐρώπη.

16, Architecture, Αρχιτεκτονική.

17, The missing words.

18, Theatre, θέατρον, and Drama, Δρᾶμα.

19, Pharmacy, Φᾰρμᾰκείᾱ.

20, Rhapsody, Ραψῳδός.

21, Holocaust, Ολοκαύτωμα.

22, Hygiene, Υγιεινή.

23, Laconic, Λακωνικός.

24, Telephone, Τηλέφωνο.

25, Asthma, Ασθμα.

26, Synagogue, Συναγωγή.

27, Diaspora, Διασπορά.

28, School, Σχολείο.

29, Muse, Μούσα.

30, Monastery, Μοναστήρι.

31, Olympian, Ολύμπιος.

32, Hypocrite, Υποκριτής.

33, Genocide, Γενοκτονία.

34, Cinema, Κινημα.

35, autopsy and biopsy

36, Exodus, ἔξοδος

37, Bishop, ἐπίσκοπος

38, Socratic, Σωκρατικὸς

39, Odyssey, Ὀδύσσεια

40, Practice, πρᾶξις

41, Idiotic, Ιδιωτικός

42, Pentecost, Πεντηκοστή

43, Apostrophe, ἀποστροφή

44, catastrophe, καταστροφή

45, democracy, δημοκρατία

46, ‘Αρχή, beginning, Τέλος, end

47, ‘Αποκάλυψις, Apocalypse

48, ‘Απόκρυφα, Apocrypha

49, Ἠλεκτρον (Elektron), electric

50, Metamorphosis, Μεταμόρφωσις

51, Bimah, βῆμα

52, ἰχθύς (ichthýs) and ψάρι (psari), fish.

53, Τὰ Βιβλία (Ta Biblia), The Bible

54, Φῐλοξενῐ́ᾱ (Philoxenia), true hospitality

55, εκκλησία (ekklesia), the Church

56, ναός (naos) and ἱερός (ieros), a church

57, Χριστούγεννα (Christougenna), Christmas

58, ἐπιφάνεια (epipháneia), θεοφάνεια, (theopháneia),
Epiphany and Theophany

59, Ζέφυρος (Zéphuros), the West Wind

60, Αύριο (Avrio), Tomorrow.

61, καλημέρα (κaliméra), ‘Good Morning’, and καλαμάρι, κalamári, ‘squid’.

Series to be continued

An icon of the Baptism of Christ in the Greek Orthodox Church in Stony Stratford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Updated: 6 January 2026 with a photograph of the day’s celebrations in Rethymnon

Peace and goodwill to all: the heart of the Christmas message is never about trees and colourful jumpers

Santa on his rounds along the High Street in Stony Stratford earlier today

Patrick Comerford

I spent all morning today as Santa Claus at the Christmas Market in Stony Stratford, inviting people to come from the High Street with their children to the market in Market Square.

I was looking very Christmassy indeed this morning – there was no need for a false cotton-wool beard over my truly Santa-length white beard. And Stony Stratford is looking very Christmassy too, with the Christmas Tree lit up in the centre of the Market Square, Christmas lights everywhere on the High Street, Church Street, Market Square and the churchyard, and the shops, pubs and cafés vying competitively with one another with the decorated windows.

This is Middle England at its best. This is community spirit in England at its best. And, I can assure you – despite the scaremongering and the hatred the bigots are trying to stir up – no-one here is trying to cancel Christmas.

‘The UK is fundamentally a Christian country and we will always stand up for Christians and their values, especially at this special time of year’, Sarah Pochin, the Reform UK MP for Runcorn and Helsby, claimed in a Christmas message posted on social media this week.

She alleges employers are stopping employees from coming to work in Christmas jumpers. But in every shop and café I went into in Stony Stratford today, and in the shops I visited in central Milton Keynes yesterday, I was almost blinded by the array and colours of the Christmas jumpers worn by staff and shoppers alike.

She also claims, in the same video clip or reel, that Tesco is selling evergreen trees rather than Christmas trees. However, there is abundant evidence – alongside my own experience – that Tesco has not stopped celebrating Christmas. Instead, dozens of products are marked as Christmas trees on its website, its 2025 Christmas advert and a campaign to encourage shoppers to give Christmas presents to under-privileged children.

‘We are proudly celebrating Christmas at Tesco and have a range of real and artificial Christmas trees in store as part of a wide selection of Christmas products to help our customers celebrate Christmas this year,’ a Tesco spokesperson told Reuters long before Sarah Pochin made and posted her incredulous but provocative claims on Facebook and elsewhere.

Tesco could not have been clearer: ‘This product is described as an 'evergreen tree' to make it clear which type of Christmas tree is inside the box and help customers to distinguish between the many Christmas trees in the range. Elsewhere on the box it is clearly marked that this product is part of our Christmas category.’

But Sarah Pochin has never let the unvarnished truth or the verifiable facts get in the way of the views she wants to foist on others. This is the same Sarah Pochin who was reprimanded in 2018 by the Judicial Conduct Investigations Office for misconduct when she was a magistrate and was told her actions ‘fell below the standards expected of a magistrate’; who was called ‘dumb’ by Reform’s Zia Yusuf for using PMQs to call for a ban on the burka; whose claims about anti-social behaviour by immigrants in her constituency were dismissed as untrue by the Cheshire Constabulary; and whose remarks about black people and Asian people in TV advertising were described by Nigel Farage as ‘wrong and ugly’.

She accuses her critics of ‘virtue signalling’. But she’s got it wrong, yet again.

She may be dreaming of a white Christmas, like so many of her party colleagues in Reform, perhaps even an exclusively white Christmas. She’s certainly not talking about the Christian Christmas.

The Christmas tree is not a Christian symbol, nor does it have British origins. Christmas trees have their roots (excuse the pun) in Germanic pagan folklore, and they were first introduced to Britain in 1800 by George III’s German wife Queen Charlotte. The Christmas tree might have been forgotten but for its reintroduced by another German, Prince Albert, Queen Victoria’s husband, who brought one to Windsor Castle in 1841. It was only thanks to an illustration in The Illustrated London News in 1846 that Christmas trees fashionable in Britain in the 1850s.

Nor is there anything particularly Christian or particularly offensive about Christmas jumpers – apart from taste. Until recent decades, Christmas jumpers were mainly sported by skiers and seen as symbols of luxury. They only became mainstream fashion and evolved into the garish garments and novelty items we know today when the Christmas jumper was popularised first by television presenters and singers in the 1980s and 1990s and then in films like Bridget Jones’s Diary (2001) – think of Mark Darcy’s reindeer jumper.

As for all those politicians on the far-right who claim they are going to put Christ back into Christmas, they need to ask when Christ was never in Christmas. English, Greek (Χριστούγεννα) and Albanian (Krishtlindja) are the only European languages I know of that include the name of Christ in the name of Christmas.

The Greek Χριστούγεννα (Christougenna) means ‘Christ’s birth’ and is a combiation of Χριστός (Christos), Christ, and γέννα (génna), meaning birth. Anyone who complains about the abbreviation of Xmas excluding Christ shows an illiteracy beyond belief, and reveals a complete ignorance of both classical Greek and Biblical Greek.

Christmas is Noël in French, Natale in Italian, Natal in Portuguese, Nollaig in Irish, and Navidad in Spanish, all words related to birth or nativity; Jul in Norwegian, Swedish and Danish; Crăciun in Romanian; and Vánoce in Czech, Ziemassvētki in Latvian, Kalėdos in Lithuanian and Weihnachten in German. There is no mention of Christ in any of these names, so there no far-right chants about the equivalent of putting Christ.

Given the affinity some of the loudest far-right voices have with a certain brand of German politician in the 1930s and 1940s, it’s a wonder they don’t advocate a phrase similar to Weihnachten instead of talking about putting Christ back into Christmas. But demanding to put the ‘Holy’ back into Holy Night might be too sobering a thought, too pious an idea for the sort of people who dismiss all talk of peace and love in this world as being ‘woke’.

Sarah Pochin claims in that social media reel that ‘the UK is fundamentally a Christian country.’ Why is it that when some people link the word Christian with words such as fundamental and fundamentalist, I expect there to be more emphasis on things that are ‘mental’ than on the ‘fun’? I then remind myself that was the 17th century equivalent our present-day fundamentalists, those over-zealous and judgmental Puritans, who outlawed Christmas, not Muslims or immigrants.

But if we are going to go back to fundamentals, we might begin with an early Biblical passage: ‘When an alien resides with you in your land, you shall not oppress the alien. The alien who resides with you shall be to you as the citizen among you; you shall love the alien as yourself, for you were aliens in the land of Egypt: I am the Lord your God’ (Leviticus 19: 33-34).

Or, perhaps, we might talk of putting the message of Christ and Christian values back into Christmas. We could start by wishing for peace on earth and good will to all, by remembering that Christ was born into a migrant family began life as a refugee as a young child. We could remind ourselves how he said, ‘I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me’ (Matthew 25: 35), that he calls us to love our neighbour as we love ourselves, and that the best answer to who is my neighbour is found in an outsider, from another ethnic group with different religious beliefs.

And while we’re at it, we could even bring ‘Mass’ back into ‘Christ-Mass’ too. Instead of criticising the labelling and pricing of Christmas or evergreen trees, putting on silly Christmas jumpers, or snogging under the mistletoe at the office party, it would be good to see these people in Church, and taking to heart the Christmas sermons that put Christ and Christian values back into daily life.

The Christmas Tree in the centre of the Market Square in Stony Stratford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)

Memories of my eldest brother, Stephen Comerford, who died a week before Christmas, 55 years ago

Stephen Edward Comerford, born on 22 August 1946, died 55 years ago on 18 December 1970

Patrick Comerford

Tomorrow (18 December) marks the fifty-fifth anniversary of the death of my eldest brother, Stephen Edward Comerford, who died in Durham, North Carolina, at the age of 24 on 18 December 1970.

Now that I am in my mid-70s, five or six years is hardly an age gap between people of my generation. But they mark a major chasm when you are a child, and that gap was compounded by the fact that he was the eldest child in the family and I was the fourth of six.

Steve was born in Dublin on 22 August 1946. He was named after our father, Stephen Edward Comerford (1918-2004), who in turn was named after our grandfather, also named Stephen Edward Comerford (1867-1921). The name Stephen had come into the Bunclody branch of the family because our grandfather was born on 28 December, three days after Christmas Day and two days after Saint Stephen’s Day.

As small children, we were all separated, going to different members and friends of the extended family: Steve was packed off to our grandmother Maria (Crowley) Murphy (1882-1957) and aunt Margaret (Murphy) Barrett (1920-2014) in Millstreet, Co Cork, while I went to George and Peggy Kerr in Dublin and the extended Hallinan family in Cappoquin, Co Waterford.

The accent Steve acquired in Millstreet brought him the nickname ‘Corky’ in his primary school when he returned to Dublin. By the time I was going to primary school, he was already at boarding school.

The Wexford historian Brendan Culliton, later the President of both the Wexford Historical Society and Wexford Wanderers Rugby Club, has remembered him as his friend throughout their shared years in primary school. ‘We were two of the ‘brainboxes’,’ he recalled some years ago. ‘In those days, we were two to a desk and I had the privilege of sharing a desk with Stephen for the whole of that year.’

He told me, ‘Stephen was very well read and was a pleasure to sit beside. He was one of the quieter members of the class, but I can remember the interesting chats we had on every subject under the sun. Before Christmas that year, we had shared what present we hoped to get. I am sure my interests at the time didn’t move far from Meccano and Just William. Stephen told me he had asked for books on history. That struck me as a bit odd, but if that was what he wanted, then that was him.

‘After Christmas, he brought in two bound copies of Carty’s History of Ireland to show me. I remember the covers were green, and plain. Other classmates would have been dismissive of books like these as a ‘Christmas present’. What, after all, was wrong with Dan Dare or Billy Bunter? But what struck me most was that Stephen was thrilled to show off these treasures. He was genuinely happy and, to me that was the important thing.’

Brendan Culliton was a year younger and stayed back a year. ‘So, when I went to Gormanston, Stephen was a year ahead of me. He was also in a different Clann / House, so our paths didn’t cross that often. However, when we did meet, a short greeting was never enough. I always recall there being real substance to the conversation.’

Stephen and I both went to Gormanston, but the five- or six-year gap was so wide that by the time I arrived, although there were teachers who remembered him, no-one in my year had ever come across him. We are also in different houses or clanns, and so any memories were few and rarely shared.

Yet, he was remembered for his achievements in maths and sciences, his fluency in the Irish language, and for his interests in chess, swimming and, to a lesser degree, golf. He taught himself the harmonica, and I remember his efforts to teach me to play chess – a pleasure that remains. But our academic and sporting interests seldom overlapped.

While I was at Gormanston, he was studying at University College Galway and at University College Dublin. When Brendan Culliton arrived in UCD, he recalled, they ‘encountered each other now and then around Earlsfort Terrace and, when we did, it was always cause for surprisingly lengthy conversations … There is no question that he was very intelligent and hugely talented. He was also genuine and sincere.’

By the time I left Gormanston in 1969, Stephen had completed his BSc and MSc degrees. We spent some time together that summer, sometimes going for meals together in Rathmines. I remember how we sat up together to watch the first moon landing on the night of 20 July 1969.

But by then he was moving to the US and Duke University, Durham, North Carolina, where he was a PhD candidate. I cannot recall that we ever met again. I was training to be a chartered surveyor with Jones Lang Wootton and working on a BSc in estate management with the College of Estate Management, then part of the University of Reading.

A colleague from his post-graduate days in Duke spoke of Stephen as ‘unfailingly courteous, and inclined to dress in jacket and tie … He gave the dining room a touch of class … dressed to the nines and carrying a rolled up umbrella.’ Perhaps he had retained a hint of that Cork accent he picked up in Millstreet as a child. ‘ We all had accents, but Stephen’s was a delight.’

He died on 18 December 1970, aged 24, and is buried in Maplewood Cemetery, Durham, North Carolina. The news of his death came in a chilling ’phone call in the middle of the night, seven days before Christmas, just days after my father’s birthday. Steve’s wrapped Christmas presents for his parents and each of his brothers and sisters arrived in the post a few days later, but by then the Christmas tree and the decorations had come down, and the Christmas lights had been switched off. It seems Christmas was cancelled that year.

The depths of a mother’s grief are unfathomable, I never fully understood or appreciated the ways my parents continued to suffer ever after, and at the time I never found ways to explain to friends and colleagues how I felt.

Brendan Culliton told me five years ago that when he heard of Stephen’s death it ‘was sad news then. It’s still sad news today.’

The Annals of Irish Mathematics and Mathematicians includes his name in the Gallery of Irish Mathematicians. He would have been 80 at his next birthday on 22 August 2026.

May his memory be a blessing ז״ל

A Christmas-time photograph of Steve visiting Santa as a child

A Christmas carol about the Crown of Thorns, and a holy thorn in Shenley with links with Glastonbury

The Glastonbury Thorn in Shenley Church End is said to flower every Christmas Eve (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)

Patrick Comerford

We are preparing and rehearsing for the Advent and Christmas services in the choir at Saint Mary and Giles in Stony Stratford. One of the carols we have been rehearsing on Wednesday evenings is ‘The Crown of Roses’, with words by the radical Russian poet Aleksey Nikolayevich Pleshcheev (1825-1893), translated by Geoffrey Dearmer, to a setting by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky (1840-1893):

When Jesus Christ was yet a child
He had a garden small and wild,
Where he cherished roses fair,
And wove them into garlands there.

Now once, as summertime drew nigh,
There came a troop of children by,
And seeing roses on the tree,
With shouts they plucked them merrily.

‘Do you bind roses in your hair?’,
They cried, in scorn, to Jesus there.
The boy said humbly, ‘take, I pray,
All but the naked thorns away’.

Then of the thorns they made a crown,
And with rough fingers pressed it down,
Till on his forehead fair and young
Red drops of blood like roses sprung.

Holy Thorn Lane off Shenley Road, a few hundred metres south of Saint Mary’s Church, Shenley Church End (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)

Pleshcheev was a radical poet and part of the Petrashevsky Circle, and he was once arrested alongside Fyodor Dostoyevsky. Many of his poems have been set to music by Tchaikovsky and Rachmaninoff.

The carol’s translator, the poet and BBC editor Geoffrey Dearmer (1893-1996), was the son of the Anglican liturgist and hymn-writer ologist Percy Dearmer and the artist and writer Mabel Dearmer. Many of Dearmer’s war poems dealt with the overall brutality of war and violence.

The carol is a moving story of Jesus as a young boy quietly cultivating a peaceful beauty only to have this stripped bare by humanity, leaving only

… thorns they made a crown,
And with rough fingers pressed it down,
Till on his forehead fair and young
Red drops of blood like roses sprung.

The Glastonbury Thorn explained in a plaque by the bush in Shenley Church End (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)

Crowns of thorns are usually associated with Holy Week and the Passion narrative leading up to Easter, and not with Advent and the period leading up to Christmas. But earlier this week I was at a meeting of local Milton Keynes clergy in Saint Mary’s Church in Shenley Church End, and there I came across a story of flowering thorns or a flowering thorn bush that also has associations with Christmas rather than Holy Week and Easter, all close to a children’s play area.

Shenley Church End in Buckinghamshire is a village south of Stony Stratford and that has become part of Milton Keynes. There, a few hundred metres south of Saint Mary’s Church and the Old Rectory and off Shenley Road I found Holy Thorn Lane. Hidden away, in an almost-hidden and fenced-off dip of land off the lane, between a children’s play area and the half dozen or so houses on Sheepcoat Close, is a Holy Thorn bush or Glastonbury Thorn.

The thorn is a straggly bush rather than a tree, and appears to have about four rather slender trunks. This probably indicates that it is, indeed, ‘ancient’, the original trunk having split and rotted away, leaving younger trunks still growing. Looking at the spacing of the trunks, this disintegration of older trunks may have happened several times over the centuries.

The Glastonbury Thorn has been in Shenley Church End for so long that local lore says it was grown from a staff planted by the Pilgrim Fathers more than 400 years ago, before they sailed on the Mayflower in 1620.

An explanatory plaque inside the railed-off area seeks to tell its story:

‘Glastonbury Holy Thorn

‘This ancient thorn bush is believed to
have been grown from a cutting from the
famous hawthorn bush at Glastonbury.
The Glastonbury thorn bush is said to have
miraculously grown when Joseph of
Arimathea planted his staff in the ground.
According to Avalon Legend, following
the Crucifixion, Joseph came to England
bearing the Holy Grail. This bush, just like
the original Glastonbury Thorn, is said to
flower around Christmas Eve and crowds
have gathered each year to witness this.’

A Christmas image in a window in Saint Mary’s Church, Shenley End (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)

Everywhere the Pilgrim Father stopped on their way from Glastonbury, the legend says, they planted one of these thorns. Someone once took a cutting from the bush and planted it at Shenley. But the cutting had many siblings dotted across England, including Quainton, Eaton Bishop, Woodham Ferrers, and Kingsthorne and Orcup in Herefordshire.

In days gone by, access to the Glastonbury Thorn in Shenley involved a trudge across fields. A 19th century writer noted, ‘This “Holy Thorn” stands in a field by itself, and is partially railed round by old palisading. Each Christmastime it is said to burst out into bud. … in this neighbourhood no one disputes the fact that it does so. In the good old coaching days people used to, so I am told, make a point of visiting this particular “Holy Thorn” at Shenley, the field where it is being but a few hundred yards from the old Watling Street.’

In those days, people camped by huge bonfires waiting for the bushes to flower. More recently, developers wanted to root up the bush and build houses. But they were challenged by local people, a preservation order was in 1978, and it is now surrounded by a metal fence, and the nearby primary school is called Glastonbury Thorn School.

The Shenley Church End thorn tree appears to receive little care or attention. It is said to have an internal diameter of 2.15 metres and an external circumference of 8 metres, but its age has never been estimated.

The trunks of the Shenley tree continue to produce flowers or flower buds in winter. When I visited the bush earlier this week, it had no buds – but there are still 40 days to Christmas.

Daily prayer in Christmas 2024-2025: 1, Wednesday 25 December 2024, Christmas Day

The first Christmas … a window in Saint Mary’s Church, St Neots, Cambridgeshire (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)

Patrick Comerford

The Advent waiting and watching has reached its climax, and this is Christmas Day.

I sang with the choir in All Saints’ Church, Calverton, last night, singing carols and then at the ‘Midnight Mass’ . Later this morning, I hope to be part of the choir at the Christmas Eucharist in Saint Mary and Saint Giles Church, Stony Stratford.

For the first time in 19 years, Christmas Day and the first day of Hanukkah also fall on the same day this year.

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

1, today’s Gospel reading;

2, a short reflection;

3, a prayer from the USPG prayer diary;

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

The first Christmas … a window in the Chapel of Westminster College, Cambridge (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)

John 1: 1-14 (NRSVA):

1 In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2 He was in the beginning with God. 3 All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being 4 in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. 5 The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.

6 There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. 7 He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. 8 He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light. 9 The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world.

10 He was in the world, and the world came into being through him; yet the world did not know him. 11 He came to what was his own, and his own people did not accept him. 12 But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God, 13 who were born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God.

14 And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth.

The statue of Franz Kafka beside the Spanish Synagogue in Prague … his story is a reminder of incarnation, redemption and resurrection, a story of unconditional love, and reminds me that ‘love came down at Christmas’ (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2023)

Today’s Reflection:

The lectionary for Christmas today provides three Gospel readings for today: Luke 2: 1-14 (15-20), Luke 2: (1-7) 8-20, and John 1: 1-14. This provides for separate readings of the Nativity narrative in Saint Luke’s Gospel on Christmas Night and on Christmas Day, but there is also a strong recommendation that the Prologue to Saint John’s Gospel ‘should be used at some service during the celebration’.

This year has marked the 100th anniversary of the death of Franz Kafka near Vienna on 3 June 1924. Earlier this year, I visited an exhibition at the Bodleian’s Weston Library in Oxford, ‘Kafka: Making of Icon’, that ran from 30 May until 27 October 2024, marking this centenary.

Franz Kafka (1883-1924) is one of towering literary figures of the 20th century. He was born in Prague, and when he died near Vienna he was buried in Prague. His best-known novels were published after he died, and include his novella, The Metamorphosis, first published in German as Die Verwandlung (1915), The Trial (1925), The Castle (1926), and America (1927).

In Prague, Kafka’s statue in Dusni Street stands beside the ‘Spanish Synagogue,’ there are streets named after him, and I have visited a collection of items associated with Kafka in the ‘Spanish Synagogue,’ close to where he was born.

The Catalan children’s writer Jordi Sierra i Fabra has written the story, ‘Kafka and the Travelling Doll,’ based on a real-life event in Kafka’s life and on the memoirs of Dora Diamant – she had lived with Kafka in Berlin, and he died in her arms.

It may not immediately strike readers as a Christian or Christmas story. But it is a story of incarnation, redemption and resurrection, a story of unconditional love, a story that reminds me of how ‘love came down at Christmas,’ and a story that reminds me why children should take centre stage during our Christmas celebrations.

There are many versions of this story of Kafka, including an adaptation for RTÉ read some years ago by Caitríona Ní Mhurchú:

One year before his death, Franz Kafka sees in one of Berlin’s parks, Steglitz City Park, a girl who is crying because she has lost her doll.

The writer calms her down by telling her that her doll had gone on a trip and that he, a doll postman, would take her a letter the next day.

Over 13 days, he brought a letter to the park every day in which the doll tells of her adventures, which he himself had written the night before.

‘Your doll has gone off on a trip,’ he said. ‘How do you know that?’ the girl asks.

‘Because she’s written me a letter,’ Kafka says.

The girl seems suspicious. ‘Do you have it on you?’ she asks.

‘No, I’m sorry,’ he says. ‘I left it at home by mistake, but I’ll bring it with me tomorrow.’

He’s so convincing, the girl doesn’t know what to think anymore. Can it be possible that this mysterious man is telling the truth?

The next day, Kafka rushes back to the park with the letter. The little girl is waiting for him, and since she hasn’t learned how to read yet, he reads the letter out loud to her.

The doll is very sorry, but she’s grown tired of living with the same people all the time. She needs to get out and see the world, to make new friends. It’s not that she doesn’t love the little girl, but she longs for a change of scenery, and therefore they must separate for a while. The doll then promises to write to the girl every day and keep her abreast of her activities.

‘Please do not mourn me, I have gone on a trip to see the world. I will write you of my adventures.

After a few days, the girl had forgotten about the real toy that she’d lost, and she was only thinking about the fiction that she’d been offered as a replacement.

Kafka wrote every sentence of this story in such detail, and with such humorous precision, that it made the doll’s situation completely understandable: the doll had grown up, gone to school, met other people.

She always reassured the child of her love, but made reference to the complications of her life, her other obligations and interests that prevented her from returning to their shared life right now. She asked the little girl to think about this, and in doing so she prepared her for the inevitable, for doing without her.

By that point, of course, the girl no longer misses the doll. Kafka has given her something else instead, and by the time those two weeks are up, the letters have cured her of her unhappiness. She has the story, and when a person is lucky enough to live inside a story, to live inside an imaginary world, the pains of this world disappear.

For as long as the story goes on, reality no longer exists.

One day the girl got her doll back. It was a different doll of course, bought by Kafka as a last gift for her.

An attached letter explained, ‘My travels have changed me.’

Many years later, long after Kafka’s death, the now grown girl found a letter stuffed into an unnoticed crevice in the cherished replacement doll.

In summary it said:

‘Everything that you love, you will eventually lose, but in the end, love will return in a different form.’

In the end, love will return.

But, there are so many differences … Christ’s love for us is not fiction, but is true; and he is with us, not just at Christmas, but always. And, in the end, he will return.

In the deep mid-winter, Love came down at Christmas. Have a happy and a holy Christmas.

Pages from Saint John’s Gospel, the first complete hand-written and illuminated Bible since the Renaissance, in the Holy Writ exhibition in Lichfield Cathedral (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Today’s Prayers (Wednesday 25 December 2024, Christmas Day):

The theme this week in ‘Pray With the World Church’, the Prayer Diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), is ‘Love – Advent’. This theme was introduced on Sunday with Reflections by the Revd Lopa Mudra Mistry, Presbyter in the Diocese of Calcutta, the Church of North India (CNI).

The USPG Prayer Diary today (Wednesday 25 December 2024, Christmas Day) invites us to pray:

Loving God who has come to dwell among us, we celebrate with joy that with the coming of Jesus you have made a way for us to become like you. We give thanks that you chose to make yourself known in the birth of a child. Help us to receive the Son with childlike faith.

The Collect:

Almighty God,
you have given us your only-begotten Son
to take our nature upon him
and as at this time to be born of a pure virgin:
grant that we, who have been born again
and made your children by adoption and grace,
may daily be renewed by your Holy Spirit;
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 Father,
whose Word has come among us
in the Holy Child of Bethlehem:
may the light of faith illumine our hearts
and shine in our words and deeds;
through him who is Christ the Lord.

Additional Collect:

Lord Jesus Christ,
your birth at Bethlehem
draws us to kneel in wonder at heaven touching earth:
accept our heartfelt praise
as we worship you,
our Saviour and our eternal God.

Yesterday’s Reflection

Continued Tomorrow

The first Christmas … a window in Saint Mary’s Church, Bletchley (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)

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

Christmas reading with some Christmas, Byzantine and Greek thoughts and flavours

Manuel II Palaiologos on the cover of the Christmas edition of ‘History Today’ … his visit to England at Christmas 1400 ‘offers a window into a time when divisions between Eastern Orthodoxy and Western Catholicism’

Patrick Comerford

Books and journals are always welcome Christmas presents. And I have had extra time to catch up on my reading in recent weeks, with some long train journeys, a hospital visit and flights to Dublin since we got back from Kuching.

Over the next few days, I hope to become engrossed in some of those books, some other books I picked up in Oxford and Cambridge or have been asked to review, and on the bumper editions of favourite magazines, including New Statesman and Private Eye.

In recent days, I have been engrossed too in some papers and reviews published in the latest edition of History Today (volume 74 issue, December 2024). which, as you might expect, has some interesting Christmas reading, but also has papers with important findings in Greek and Byzantine studies.

Dr Katherine Kelaidis is a research fellow at the Institute for Orthodox Christian Studies in Cambridge and he Director of Research and Content at the National Hellenic Museum in Chicago. Her paper in the Christmas edition of History Today, ‘A Christmas to Save the Byzantine Empire’ (pp 28-39), recounts how the Byzantine emperor Manuel II Palaiologos was a guest of Henry IV in England at Christmas dinner at Eltham Palace, near Greenwich on Christmas Day 1400.

Although they were united by their Christian faith, these two monarchs were on separate sides of the East-West schism. So, she asks, ‘How did they celebrate?’

The embattled Byzantine emperor was on the final leg of a desperate tour across Europe in a last-ditch effort to encourage the powers of Western Christendom to come to the aid of his empire against the real threat of an Ottoman assault.

His father, John V, had visited Naples and Rome in 1369 in a failed attempt to end the schism between Western and Eastern Christianity. Otherwise, no Byzantine emperor had ever left the borders of his empire.

The mutual excommunications of Pope Leo IX and Patriarch Michael I in 1054 came to be viewed as the moment of final division between what would later become the Catholic west and the Orthodox west. However, as Dr Kelaidis points out, the idea of a ‘schism’ or even the use of the term did not appear with any regularity until the Reformation in the 16th century, and how the emperor and the king celebrated Christmas matters.

The division deepened in the 350 years between the initial schism in 1054 and Manuel’s tour in 1400. It seemed so deep as to be unbridgeable to the generations who came after the Ottoman conquest that Manuel had sought to prevent.

‘In reality, however, this was not the case’, she argues. ‘Indeed, the state of Eastern-Western ecclesiastical relations remained much more fluid than is commonly assumed.’ Manuel’s European tour and his Christmas in England reveals something often missed by historians: ‘the divisions and differences which split Christianity in the late medieval era were less real for those who lived through them.’

Manuel II Palaiologos meeting Henry IV, from the St Albans Chronicle, late 15th century (Lambeth Palace Library/Bridgeman Images)

Manuel’s entourage included a number of Orthodox priests, providing the emperor with spiritual and sacramental support. In Paris, they celebrated a public liturgy, perhaps at Sainte-Chapelle. A contemporary account says the Eastern rites were ‘unusual’ but that ‘everyone could attend’.

‘Differences in custom – perhaps even in theology – did not appear to stop a shared celebration of the Eucharist, the ultimate symbol of Christian unity,’ Dr Kelaidis notes.

She points out that while late mediaeval Christians, regardless of their divisions and loyalties, would have celebrated Easter in a largely similar fashion. However, the series of winter feast days between Christmas Day on 25 December and the Epiphany (or Theophany) on 6 January was a different story.

Christians had always celebrated the Resurrection, and Easter had been the central feast day in the Christian calendar from the earliest days. Christmas, however, was another matter, and celebrations associated with the winter solstice in northern Europe were transformed into the celebration of Christ’s birth. She argues, ‘It is for this reason that the Feast of the Nativity, the first of the 12 days of Christmas, celebrated on 25 December, is the only major Christian feast to have moved from West to East.’

She goes on to ask what Henry IV and Manuel II’s priests did regarding the celebration of the religious services that Christmas in 1400, including multiple Eucharistic services. There were significant differences between East and West in celebrating the Eucharist, including the Eastern use of leavened bread mixed into the chalice, and the Western use of unleavened bread and separate distribution of the wine and bread.

Dr Kelaidis notes how ‘later descriptions of the events – most of which are from the centuries after the Reformation, when the divisions within Christianity, and particularly divisions over the Eucharist and its proper form, were much more pronounced – tend to declare unquestioningly that neither the two rulers nor their priests would have celebrated together. This certainty is anachronistic at best.’

The Archangel Michael with Manuel II Palaiologos, 15th-century embroidery on silk (Bridgeman Images)

It is unclear whether there was a co-celebration or not, particularly since the English Church maintained a self-appointed autonomy from Rome, she argues. Both the English and the Byzantines saw the English Church as being semi-independent, and so not necessarily party to the growing division between Rome and Constantinople.

She notes, moreover, how there are plenty of instances, many well into the 18th century, of Eastern and Western priests co-celebrating the Eucharist when practical or political concerns were at play. English diplomats often received communion in Orthodox churches, both in Russia and in the Ottoman Empire, while Greek sailors aboard Spanish ships were communed by Catholic priests.

‘In the case of Christmas 1400, the question was not just of ceremonial importance. There were serious, worldly, concerns at stake. At the heart of Manuel’s pilgrimage to the West was a central premise: that the Christian Church, whatever conflicts or disagreements there might be, was still united and that Christian brothers ought to unite with one another against a common enemy. For this premise to hold, Manuel and his priests would have needed to emphasise the ways in which the Church of Christ remained united – or rather that they were still members of the One, Holy, True and Apostolic Church.’

Of course, she admits, ‘one might say that had such a momentous event as a co-celebration of the Eucharist occurred – had priests from Canterbury and priests from Constantinople celebrated the Eucharist together – there would most certainly have been some sort of record. But what if it was not as remarkable an occurrence as we, from our vantage point of 600 years, might think? In the four centuries between the so-called ‘Great Schism’ and Manuel’s arrival in England, relations between the Eastern and Western halves of the Christian world had ebbed and flowed. And co-celebration, if not common, was not unheard of. There is reason to think that it was possible – maybe even likely – that the priests of Henry’s court and those of Manuel’s celebrated together that Christmas.’

Beyond the immediate political concerns, she says, ‘this curious episode at Eltham Palace in 1400 offers a window into a time when divisions between Eastern Orthodoxy and Western Catholicism, though certainly present, had not yet hardened into the later, unbridgeable schisms that have come to define the received views of modern religious history.’

And that is food for ecumenical thinking at Christmas time.

Charles VI of France and Manuel II Palaiologos with delegations, from ‘The Travels of John Mandeville’, early 15th century (British Library/Bridgeman Images)

There are other Christmas and Greek themes in this delightful feast of history in the Christmas 2024 edition of History Today

The Greek themes are continued by Phiroze Vasunia, Professor of Greek at University College London, who looks at ‘How Ancient Greece Shaped the British Raj’ (pp 40-53). ‘British agents of empire saw their actions in India through the texts of their classical educations. They looked for Alexander, cast themselves as Aeneas and hoped to emulate Augustus.’

The Christmas themes continue with Matthew Lyons who questions the claims of William Strickland to have introduced the turkey to England. Strickland applied to have a turkey on his coat-of-arms in 1550. But his claim remains a puzzle to ponder over the Christmas dinner as the truth followed him to his grave when he died on 8 December 1598.

And, if you are enjoying the carols, the choirs and the church organs this Christmas, you might consider how the organ was a controversial instrument in many churches after the Reformation.

Anna Steppler is a junior research fellow in music at Peterhouse in Cambridge. In ‘Listen like a Lutheran’ (pp 62-71), she recalls that for much of the 200 years between Luther’s Reformation and Johann Sebastian Bach’s appointment to the Thomaskirche in Leipzig in 1723 ‘the instrument’s spiritual role was far from assured’ and in the debates between Calvinists and Lutherans, ‘the use of music in church was a particularly sensitive topic.’

Manuel II Palaiologos and Empress Helena crowned by the Virgin and Child with their sons, from a manuscript made in Constantinople, 1403-1405, presented by the emperor to the Abbey of St Denis following his tour (RMN-Grand Palais / Daniel Arnaudet/ Dist. Photo SCALA, Florence)

Daily prayer in Ordinary Time 2024: 48, Wednesday 26 June 2024

The icon of the Nativity in the new iconostasis in the Greek Orthodox Church in Stony Stratford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)

Patrick Comerford

The week began with the Fourth Sunday after Trinity (Trinity IV, 23 June 2024), and Monday was the Feast of the Birth of Saint John the Baptist. This week I have been marking the anniversaries of ordination as deacon 24 years ago (25 June 2000) and priest 23 years ago (24 June 2001).

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 icons in the new iconostasis or icon stand in the Greek Orthodox Church in Stony Stratford.

3, a prayer from the USPG prayer diary;

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

The icon of the Nativity is second from the left among the 12 feasts depicted in the upper tier of the new iconostasis in Stony Stratford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024; click on images to view full screen)

Matthew 7: 15-20 (NRSVUE):

[Jesus said:] 15 “Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep’s clothing but inwardly are ravenous wolves. 16 You will know them by their fruits. Are grapes gathered from thorns or figs from thistles? 17 In the same way, every good tree bears good fruit, but the bad tree bears bad fruit. 18 A good tree cannot bear bad fruit, nor can a bad tree bear good fruit. 19 Every tree that does not bear good fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire. 20 Thus you will know them by their fruits.”

The Virgin Mary, the new-born Christ Child and Saint Joseph … a detail in the icon of the Nativity in iconostasis or icon stand in the Greek Orthodox Church in Stony Stratford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)

The Stony Stratford iconostasis 11: the Nativity:

Over the last few weeks, I have been watching the building and installation of the new iconostasis or icon screen in the Greek Orthodox Church in Stony Stratford. In my prayer diary over these weeks, I am reflecting on this new iconostasis, and the theological meaning and liturgical significance of its icons and decorations.

The lower, first tier of a traditional iconostasis is sometimes called Sovereign. On the right side of the Beautiful Gates or Royal Doors facing forward is an icon of Christ, often as the Pantokrator, representing his second coming, and on the left is an icon of the Theotokos (the Virgin Mary), symbolising the incarnation. It is another way of saying all things take place between Christ’s first coming and his second coming.

The six icons on the lower, first tier of the iconostasis in Stony Stratford depict Christ to the right of the Royal Doors, as seen from the nave of the church, and the Theotokos or the Virgin Mary to the left. All six icons depict (from left to right): the Dormition, Saint Stylianos, the Theotokos, Christ Pantocrator, Saint John the Baptist and Saint Ambrosios.

Traditionally, the upper tier has an icon of the Mystical Supper in the centre, with icons of the Twelve Great Feasts on either side, in two groups of six: the Nativity of the Theotokos (8 September), the Exaltation of the Cross (14 September), the Presentation of the Theotokos (21 November), the Nativity of Christ (25 December), the Baptism of Christ (6 January), the Presentation of Christ in the Temple (2 February), the Annunciation (25 March), the Entry into Jerusalem (Palm Sunday), the Ascension, Pentecost, the Transfiguration (6 August) and the Dormition (15 August).

In Stony Stratford, these 12 icons in the top tier, on either side of the icon of the Mystical Supper, are (from left): the Ascension, the Nativity, the Baptism of Christ, the Entry into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, the Raising of Lazarus and the Crucifixion; and the Harrowing of Hell or the Resurrection, the Incredulity of Saint Thomas, Pentecost, the Transfiguration, the Presentation and the Annunciation.

The second icon in this top tier of 12 icons in Stony Stratford is the icon of the Nativity. The Greek words above read: Η γέννηση του Χριστού (‘The Birth of Christ’), echoing the opening words of Saint Matthew’s Gospel: Βίβλος γενέσεως Ἰησοῦ Χριστοῦ … ‘An account of the genealogy [or birth] of Jesus the Messiah …’ (Matthew 1: 1).

The icon of the Nativity is based on the Gospel accounts of the Nativity by Saint Matthew and Saint Luke, but there are additional details from the Biblical prophecies of Isaiah and from the extra-biblical book Protoevangelium of James, a second century document with some of the oldest verbal traditions about Christmas.

The five main characters or sets of characters in the Christmas story – Jesus Christ, the Virgin Mary, Saint Joseph, the Shepherds and the Angels, and the Wise Men – are seen in the icon of the Nativity, which gives a very different take on the Christmas story than the ones found on popular Christmas cards in northern Europe.

In the Orthodox tradition, the icon of the Nativity of Christ shows the Creator of the Universe entering history as a new-born babe, and the impact of his birth on the natural life of the world.

The background of the icon traditionally displays an inhospitable world, the world since the expulsion from Paradise. In the centre of the icon are the Virgin Mary, the central and disproportionately large figure, who is seen resting in a cave, and the Christ Child as a baby in a manger wrapped in swaddling clothes. Around the icon, we can see details from the Christmas story.

The icon is rich with theological symbolism.

The Christ Child: The little helpless figure in swaddling clothes represents the complete submission of Christ to the physical conditions governing the human race.

The earth provides him with a cave. The animals watch over him in silent wonder and we humans offer him one of us, the Virgin Mother. His manger is like a coffin and his swaddling clothes are very much like the grave clothes, for this child is born to die.

Far from the Christmas-card image of being born in a sweet, cosy stable, surrounded by cuddly animals and adoring fans, Christ is born in a dark cave. The craggy rocks above the cave form the shadow of the cross on which he dies.

One very old version of the Christmas story has it that Christ was born in a cave outside Bethlehem, which is why the icon shows him that way, in the midst of jagged rocks and pitch dark. Christ has come into the world to save it, but that means he has come into a place of darkness and danger. He is in the depths. His birth anticipates his death, just as the gift of myrrh (a spice used in burials) points us to Christ’s death and burial.

So, while the nativity is a joyful event, it carries a serious message. Jesus Christ is God with us, God come to live the life of a human being on earth. But he has also come to die, to set us free from our slavery to evil, poverty and injustice. As one writer puts it: ‘God became a human child so that we might become children of God.’

The Virgin Mary: The Virgin Mary is known in Orthodoxy as the Theotokos, the God-bearer or Mother of God. Although the Virgin Mary is the most dominant figure in the icon, she is not the most important. Here she is shown kneeling, though in some versions of this icon she is seated.

The Virgin Mary is right at the centre of the Christmas story, which is why she is at the centre of this icon. It was her ‘yes’ spoken to the angel who told her she would give birth to Christ which set the whole story in motion. It was her belief that God could do what he promised that made it all possible. And it was she who gave birth and laid her son in a feeding trough for cattle, due to overcrowding in Bethlehem.

In some icons, the Virgin Mary is lying on a sort of long, red cushion – it almost looks like a bean bag – with the Christ Child in his makeshift cot by her side. She is pulling her cloak around her for warmth, and perhaps she is trying to catch some sleep after the exhaustion of giving birth. Icon-writers present the Virgin Mary like this to remind us that the birth of Christ – like any birth – was hard work and that it was a human event. Jesus Christ was fully human. The way the Virgin Mary wraps herself in her cloak and turns to get some sleep tells us that.

But Jesus Christ was more than just a human being, as we are told in the words of the nativity narratives in the Gospels, and through the images in this icon.

The Star: The sky salutes the Christ Child with a star, the light of wisdom. This is a sign that Christ came for everyone. Some icons have three rays from the star, representing the Holy Trinity.

The Shepherds: The shepherds and the Wise Men or Magi bring their gifts as signs that Christ has come for everyone. Saint Luke’s Gospel has a special emphasis on the poor and disadvantaged, on people living on the margins of society. While Saint Matthew’s Gospel focuses on the Wise Men who travelled from the East, Saint Luke’s spotlight falls on these working men, who hear the news about the birth of Christ from heaven itself.

The shepherds are on the right-hand side of the icon. One lone young shepherd looks up and is blessed by an angel looking down on him. Below this shepherd, the sheep drink in a river, a reminder that Christ is the Good Shepherd. In the lower part of the icon a shepherd is wearing a wreath as he plays his flute, showing the joy of the Good News.

Saint Luke is the only evangelist to mention the shepherds in his Gospel. Christ later says: ‘I have come to bring good news to the poor.’ The shepherds in the story remind us of God’s love for those who are forgotten and left behind in our world.

The arrival of the Wise Men in the icon of the Nativity in the Greek Orthodox Church in Stony Stratford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)

The Wise Men: The Wise Men are on the left-hand side of the icon. Sometimes they are shown in icons on horseback, their faces turned up looking for the star that has led them to Bethlehem. In those icons, the uphill angle of the horses tells of their long, hard journey and of how important the event was to them. Perhaps they alone in this story have realised something of what was truly happening. And the speed of their horses tells of the urgency and danger in their part of the story.

The wise men are also part of the Christmas story, and they bring not just their strange and exotic gifts but they also bring the world of politics and military power into the story. King Herod, a violent and cunning ruler who was paranoid about holding on to his power, is alarmed by his unexpected visitors. Eventually, he orders the horrific massacre of all new-born baby boys in Bethlehem in an attempt to liquidate any rival to his throne, no matter how young he may be.

They show how the story of the incarnation of Christ was rooted in the real world of political corruption and intrigue, with a ruler who was prepared to kill anyone who stood in his way. It is this real world of oppression, death and danger that Christ has come to save.

The tree: To the right in the icon, behind Saint Joseph is a tree, representing the Jesse Tree in the prophecy that says a shoot will sprout from the stump of Jesse, the father of King David: ‘A shoot shall sprout from the stump (tree) of Jesse and from his roots a bud shall blossom. The spirit of the Lord shall rest upon him’ (Isaiah 11: 1-2).

The ox and ass: Christ comes into the world that does not recognise him for who he is. The ox and the ass near the centre of the icon are also referred to in a prophecy: ‘The ox knows his owner, and the donkey his master’s crib, but Israel does not know, my people do not understand’ (Isaiah 1: 3). In some icons, including this one, the ox and ass are near the Christ child, providing warmth from their breath.

Saint Joseph: The Righteous Joseph is to the right, kneeling outside the cave, away from the Christ Child and the Virgin Mary. This is to show that he was not involved in the miracle of the Incarnation of the Son of God, but that he was the protector of the Virgin Mary and Jesus Christ.

Saint Joseph reminds us of a very human dilemma in the Nativity stories: how could the Virgin Mary be pregnant? It was a scandalous thing (see Matthew 1: 18-24). From Saint Matthew’s Gospel, it is clear that Saint Joseph did not believe the Virgin Mary’s explanation of how she had conceived. It was only after a dream that he accepted the Virgin Mary as his wife.

In some icons, Saint Joseph has his head turned down from facing the Virgin Mary, listening to his doubts and fears. In those icons, he cuts an isolated figure, at the bottom of the picture, and he looks thoroughly fed up with everything. Yet, despite any lingering doubts he may have harboured, Saint Joseph has an important place in the whole icon. Doubt can help us get honest with God and with ourselves.

The tempting old man: Some icons of the Nativity include an old man speaking to Saint Joseph, representing the devil bringing new doubts to Saint Joseph. The devil suggests that if the infant were truly divine he would not have been born in a human way. This argument, presented in different forms, keeps reappearing throughout the history of the Church, and is the foundation of many heresies.

In the person of Saint Joseph, the icon discloses not only his personal drama, but the drama of all humanity, the difficulty of accepting that which is beyond reason, the Incarnation of God. But the Virgin Mary in the centre, from her position at the centre of the icon, looks at Saint Joseph as if trying to overcome his doubts and temptations.

The Angels: The angels in the icon are glorifying God, announcing the Good News to the shepherds, or singing. In some icons, an angel is shown kneeling or bowing in worship before Christ, lying in his cave, while other angels are depicted standing like a choir, singing.

The midwives: Some icons of the Nativity also show at the bottom right the women who were midwives, telling us that Christ was born in the natural, human way and would have needed washing, as a regular human baby does.

The angels in the icon of the Nativity in the Greek Orthodox Church in Stony Stratford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)

Today’s Prayers (Wednesday 26 June 2024):

The theme this week in ‘Pray With the World Church,’ the Prayer Diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), is ‘Anglican support and advocacy for exiled people in Northern France.’ This theme was introduced on Sunday with a programme update by Bradon Muilenburg, Anglican Refugee Support Lead in Northern France, the Diocese in Europe, the Diocese of Canterbury and USPG.

The USPG Prayer Diary today (Wednesday 26 June 2024) invites us to pray:

May the prophetic power of our collective lament deliver us from cynicism and indifference, and safeguard vulnerability in a culture of dominance and control. May we foster solidarity and belonging in a world of disconnection.

The Collect:

O God, the protector of all who trust in you,
without whom nothing is strong, nothing is holy:
increase and multiply upon us your mercy;
that with you as our ruler and guide
we may so pass through things temporal
that we lose not our hold on things eternal;
grant this, heavenly Father,
for our Lord Jesus Christ’s sake,
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.

Post Communion Prayer:

Eternal God,
comfort of the afflicted and healer of the broken,
you have fed us at the table of life and hope:
teach us the ways of gentleness and peace,
that all the world may acknowledge
the kingdom of your Son Jesus Christ our Lord.

Additional Collect:

Gracious Father,
by the obedience of Jesus
you brought salvation to our wayward world:
draw us into harmony with your will,
that we may find all things restored in him,
our Saviour Jesus Christ.

The new iconostasis or icon stand in the Greek Orthodox Church in Stony Stratford in recent weeks (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)

An introduction to the Stony Stratford iconostasis (15 June 2024)

Yesterday’s reflection

Continued tomorrow

A modern version of the traditional Orthodox icon of the Nativity of Christ by Alexandra Kaouki (Αλεξανδρα Καουκι) of Rethymnon

Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version, Updated Edition copyright © 2021, National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.