Daily prayer in Easter 2025: 43, Sunday 1 June 2025, Seventh Sunday of Easter

The head of Medusa, depicted with snakes in her hair, at the Temple of Apollo in Didyma (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Patrick Comerford

Easter is a 50-day season, beginning on Easter Day (20 April 2025) and continuing through Ascension Day until the Day of Pentecost or Whit Sunday next Sunday (8 June 2025). Today is the Seventh Sunday of Easter (Easter VII).

The Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew is presiding at a Patriarchal and Synodal Divine Liturgy at the Patriarchal Church of Saint George in the Phanar today commemorating the Holy Fathers of the First Ecumenical Council of Nicaea, and the 1,700th anniversary of the Council of Nicaea and the Nicene Creed. During the Divine Liturgy, a special Patriarchal Encyclical will be read aloud.

In the Jewish calendar, the holiday of Shavuot or Shavuos (שָׁבוּעוֹת‎, ‘Weeks’), or the Festival of Weeks, begins at sunset this evening.

Later this morning, I am singing with the choir at the Parish Eucharist in Saint Mary and Saint Giles Church, Stony Stratford. The Stony Live Festival, which began yesterday, has a number of events I am looking forward to later in today, including Classic Stony.

But, 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, reading today’s Gospel reading;

2, a short reflection;

3, a prayer from the USPG prayer diary;

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

Delphi and the ruins of the Temple of Apollo … the slave-girl in Philippi was part of the cult of Apollo (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

John 17: 20-26 (NRSVA):

[Jesus said:] 20 ‘I ask not only on behalf of these, but also on behalf of those who will believe in me through their word, 21 that they may all be one. As you, Father, are in me and I am in you, may they also be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me. 22 The glory that you have given me I have given them, so that they may be one, as we are one, 23 I in them and you in me, that they may become completely one, so that the world may know that you have sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me. 24 Father, I desire that those also, whom you have given me, may be with me where I am, to see my glory, which you have given me because you loved me before the foundation of the world.

25 ‘Righteous Father, the world does not know you, but I know you; and these know that you have sent me. 26 I made your name known to them, and I will make it known, so that the love with which you have loved me may be in them, and I in them.’

An icon of the Mystical Supper or the Last Supper in a shop window on Eth Antistaseos street in Rethymnon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Today’s Reflection:

This is the Seventh Sunday of Easter, or the Sunday after Ascension Day. We are, I suppose, in some ways, caught in an in-between time, between Ascension Day, last Thursday, and the Day of Pentecost, next Sunday [8 June 2025].

In this ‘in-between time,’ the disciples and other followers of Jesus and their family members are gathered together in an upper room, devoting themselves to prayer (see Acts 1: 13-14), and there Matthias is chosen to join the Twelve (see Acts 1: 23-26).

The Gospel reading this morning (John 17: 20-26) is part of Christ’s great prayer at the Last Supper for his disciples and for the future Church after his departure, after the Ascension. All the readings this morning are a call to look forward to being with Christ in glory, which is an appropriate preparation for the Day of Pentecost, next Sunday.

Today’s reading from the Book of Revelation (Revelation 22: 12-14, 16-17, 20-21) is the promise that Christ is coming, and that with him he brings the New Jerusalem, the new Heaven and the New Earth. He is our Beginning and our End.

But how do we respond to him in this in-between time?

In the reading from the Acts of the Apostles (Acts 16: 16-34), Saint Paul has arrived on European soil for the first time, and he is in Philippi. We heard last Sunday how he and his companions were welcomed by Lydia, a prosperous businesswoman who becomes a Christian.

Now we hear of two miracles: the curing of a slave-girl who is possessed, which puts Paul and Silas in prison (verses 16-24), and the miraculous earthquake that leads to the conversion and baptism of the jailer and his family (verses 25-34).

The slave-girl’s cry when she realises who Saint Paul is and the response of Saint Paul to her plight are reminders of the stories of the exorcisms carried out by Christ himself. There too evil spirits recognised God and spoke the truth. Saint Paul continues what Christ began; it is Christ who cures (‘in the name of Jesus Christ,’ verse 18).

The slave-girl’s owners bring two false charges against Paul and Silas. They stir up the crowd and justice follows swiftly: Saint Paul and his companions quickly find themselves in jail.

But even this has interesting consequences, for instead of killing himself, the jailer and his family are baptised too, and they join the heavenly banquet, they share the meal, rejoicing (verses 32-34), and so they come into Communion with the whole Church.

Taken out of context, this first reading is quite stark and raises many questions.

The first woman Saint Paul meets in Europe is Lydia. She is from Thyatira, a city in the area of Lydia that was a centre of the cult of Apollo and Artemis, and one of the great Lydian temples to these twins was at Didyma, near the Lydian city of Sardis.

Lydia’s wealth, social standing and independence are unusual for a woman of her time. She and her household are baptised, and she provides lengthy hospitality for Saint Paul and his travelling companions.

Lydia’s freedom of choice when it comes to religious matters contrasts with the plight of the second woman Saint Paul meets in Europe. She is an unnamed woman, a slave-girl who is described in some translations as a ‘damsel’ (e.g. KJV). Unlike Lydia, she has no name, no wealth, no independence from men, and no freedom of religious choice.

This poor girl is possessed – the translation we read this morning says she has ‘a spirit of divination.’ And other people make money out of that. The Greek here is much more specific than this English translation: she ‘has the spirit of Python’ (εχουσαν πνευμα πυθωνος).

No, she is not possessed by the humour of Monty Python. Nor has she swallowed a snake. Πύθων in Greek mythology was the name of the Pythian serpent or dragon that guarded the oracle at Delphi and was slain by Apollo.

And so, Python became one of the names of Apollo, the Greek god of light and the sun, the fine arts, music, poetry, medicine, eloquence and prophecy, the patron of shepherds and the guardian of truth. He is the son of Zeus, and in Greek mythology he dies and rises again.

The oracle at Delphi, the priestess of Apollo, was said to be inspired by Apollo. Her words about the future were regarded as the oracles of the god.

This possessed young woman is a minor oracle of the cult of Apollo. She is exploited by a group of men who make a pretty income from her utterances, what the reading describes as her ‘fortune-telling.’ The original word to describe her (μαντεύομαι) tells us she is not just some ‘Mystic Meg’ in a red-top tabloid or a fortune teller with a turban in a circus tent looking at the palms of hands. She is a seer, she delivers an oracle, she is a priestess of the cult of Apollo.

The priestesses of Apollo were said to give their answers from their bellies – the seat of emotions – while their mouths were closed.

How does this oracle of Apollo behave when she is confronted with the disciples of the good shepherd, the one who is the way the truth and the light, the Son of God who died and rises again?

But there is a contradiction here: if she is an oracle and slave of Apollo, why is she proclaiming that Saint Paul and his companions are the slaves of the Most High, proclaiming the way of salvation?

And I find myself asking, why does she keep on doing this, for days and days on end (see verse 18)?

Why is Saint Paul so annoyed with what she says?

Was he right to ignore her for the first few days?

Or has he come to realise her plight, the full enormity of her religious enslavement?

If she is already proclaiming, for many days, the God that Paul and Silas proclaim as the Most High God, and she is acknowledging that they are preaching salvation, surely she has already lost her value to her owners before they start blaming Saint Paul and his exorcism?

She may be stating the truth, but she is not serving the truth. How often are we deceived by people who claim to speak the truth but whose intentions are so contrary to what is truthful and wholesome?

And if the financial dependence and the religious slavery of this girl are in contrast to the financial independence and religious freedom of the more mature Lydia, then her slavery to exploitative religion, her imprisonment to those who make a fortune out the cult of Apollo, is in contrast with the subsequent imprisonment for Christ’s sake suffered by Paul and Silas.

The story comes between two sets of conversions and baptisms – those of Lydia and her household and of the jailer and his entire family.

Of course, later, when Saint Paul challenges the cult of Artemis in Ephesus, he is jailed by those facing financial loss, just as he is jailed in Philippi for challenging the exploitative cult of Apollo.

But this reading raises a number of questions:

Are there appropriate and inappropriate times, means and places for proclaiming the Gospel?

Is there an appropriate time or place to be annoyed or irritated by what other people are saying in the name of Christianity?

Are we aware of times when religion is used as a way of trapping and abusing vulnerable people because of their social status, their gender, their sexuality, their marital status or their ethnic background?

Are there times when religion is used for making a great deal of money for others?

Do we appreciate and pray for those who suffer for the faith, sometimes in hidden and unseen circumstances, perhaps even in the silence of their own homes?

Apart from acknowledging God most high and preaching the way of salvation, which even this oracle of Apollo can acknowledge, how do we show our faith and our life in Christ in the way we live our own lives?

Is Christ’s prayer at the Last Supper for his Church, which we hear in the Gospel reading, brought to life in the way we live as the Church, in this parish, in this diocese, in this land?

Christ is risen!
The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia!

The Temple of Apollo in Didyma … one of the most important shrines and temples in the classical world to Apollo and his twin sister Artemis (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Today’s Prayers (Sunday 1 June 2025, Easter VII):

I am one of the contributors to the new edition of Pray with the World Church, the prayer diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), covering the period from 1 July to 20 November 2025.

My contribution, for the week 20-26 July, reflects on ‘Diversity in Sarawak’ (pp 20-21).

The theme in the prayer diary this week (1-7 June) is ‘Volunteers’ Week’ and is introduced today by Carol Miller, Church Engagement Manager, USPG. She writes:

‘Read I Corinthians 1: 1-3.

‘I grew up in the Southern American states of Tennessee and Virginia. My five sisters may not have agreed, but according to our local Associate Reformed Presbyterian Church I was considered a saint. Saved by grace, yes, but a saint!

‘There are saints in your local church, too. Individuals who offer rides home from church each week, or offer to hand out service sheets and make visitors feel welcome, or organise collections for the local foodbank. They do these things out of compassion and kindness, or a desire to meet basic needs and to see justice done. USPG’s partners across the Anglican Communion are no different. Within provinces, dioceses, deaneries, mission areas, benefices and local parish churches, there are the saints “in every place” sharing God’s love.

‘Saint Martin and Saint Jane in the Diocese of Bath and Wells host a curry night each year to raise funds for USPG. Saint James ran a half marathon to raise awareness and support for the Churches of South Asia. Saint Richard in Derby organises a 20-mile sponsored walk each year to benefit USPG’s church partners around the world.

‘There are so many more saints, hosting bake sales, plant sales, blind raffles, canal walks and wine and cheese nights. All for sisters and brothers they’ve never met, but with whom they stand together against injustice and believe together for a world where individuals are loved, accepted and thriving.

‘From 2-8 June, we’re celebrating Volunteers’ Week. A chance to say a huge thank you to all our wonderful USPG ambassadors.’

The USPG Prayer Diary today (Sunday 1 June 2025, Easter VII) invites us to pray in this way:

Read and meditate on Ephesians 1: 15-19. Lord God, we thank you for the ambassadors of USPG who inspire local churches and communities to support mission around the globe through prayer, worship and financial support. Strengthen and bless their work, we pray.

The Collect:

O God the King of glory,
you have exalted your only Son Jesus Christ
with great triumph to your kingdom in heaven:
we beseech you, leave us not comfortless,
but send your Holy Spirit to strengthen us
and exalt us to the place where our Saviour Christ is gone before,
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, giver of love and power,
your Son Jesus Christ has sent us into all the world
to preach the gospel of his kingdom:
confirm us in this mission,
and help us to live the good news we proclaim;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Additional Collect:

Risen, ascended Lord,
as we rejoice at your triumph,
fill your Church on earth with power and compassion,
that all who are estranged by sin
may find forgiveness and know your peace,
to the glory of God the Father.

Yesterday’s Reflections

Continued Tomorrow

An icon of the first Council of Nicaea in 325 ... the 1,700th anniversary is being commemorated throughout the Orthodox Church today

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

Frating Hall Farm in Essex was once home to a pacifist experiment in community living

‘Let the field be joyful, and all that is therein: then shall all the trees of the wood rejoice’ (Psalm 96: 12) … the sun sets behind the fields at Frating Hall Farm, near Colchester in Essex (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)

Patrick Comerford

I have been writing these evenings about our visit to Colchester earlier this week. But for two of us the primary purpose in being in that part of Essex on Monday was to visit Metallic Elephant, a printing machinery business based in Frating Hall Farm Industrial Estate.

Frating is almost half-way between Colchester and Clacton and the home of Metallic Elephant, a family-owned business with a lengthy experience in the printing industry and a team of dedicated, skilled craft workers and engineers.

Frating is a small village with a population of about 540, on the Tendring Peninsula, about 8 km (5 miles) east of Colchester and 15 km (9 miles) north-west of Clacton-on-Sea. The nearest railway station is 3 km (2 miles) away at Great Bentley, so Charlotte and I took a taxi from Colchester through the village of Elmstead Market.

Frating includes both Frating Green and Hockley. The parish church is now a private house and Frating also has a village hall, Frating War Memorial Hall, which celebrated its 100th anniversary in 2022, and one public house, the King’s Arms.

Frating is recorded as Fretingham in the Domesday Book and Frating Church dates from the 12th century. Frae is the Saxon word for a lord, and the name means the settlement of the people of Fraete.

The village sign incorporates a fruited apple tree, recalling the apple-growing industry in Frating during the 20th century, a bell representing the three church bells of Frating Church, a cartwheel representing the 19th century wheelwright of Haggar’s Lane, and a ram’s head from the coat of arms of the Bendish family of Steeple Bumpstead.

Sir Thomas Bendish (1540-1603) of Steeple Bumpstead married Eleanor Ford, a daughter of John Ford of Frating Hall, and was buried at Frating Church. Their son, Sir Thomas Bendish (1568-1636), was created a baronet in 1611 and was High Sheriff of Essex in 1618-1619 and 1630-1631. His son, the royalist Sir Thomas Bendish (1607-1674), was the English ambassador to the Ottoman court in Constantinople in the mid-17th century. Another son, Richard Bendish, inherited Frating Hall.

The barns on Frating Hall Farm, near Colchester in Essex, probably date from the 17th or 18th century (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)

The barns on Frating Hall Farm probably date from the 17th or 18th century. The more recent history of Frating Hall Farm is an interesting chapter in the history of pacifist communitarianism, and the links between pacifism and agrarianism, or the ‘back-to-the-land’ movement, in the mid-20th century, when farm work offered a way for pacifists and conscientious objectors to remain within the law.

Frating Hall Farm is associated with key figures in the pacifist and anti-war movements from the 1930s to the 1950s, including Vera Brittain, author of Testament of Youth and a founding figure in the Peace Pledge Union (PPU) in 1936, along with the Dean of Canterbury, Dick Sheppard (1880-1937), the poet Max Plowman and the literary critic John Middleton Murry, a friend of DH Lawrence.

For many years, a photograph of Dick Sheppard, a former Vicar of Saint Martin-in-the-Fields, hung over my desk in my study in the house in Firhouse where I lived for 20 years until the mid-1990s. His pacifism and his social activism were among the many influences on the development of my Anglicanism and my spirituality.

By the end of the 1930s, the Peace Pledge Union had almost 100,000 members, all of whom had signed a pledge declaring: ‘War is a crime against humanity. I renounce war, and am therefore determined not to support any kind of war. I am also determined to work for the removal of all causes of war.’

Two pacifist settlements in Essex played a major role in developing the link between the peace movement and farming: the Adelphi Centre in Langham (1934-1942) and Frating Hall Farm (1943-1954).

The Adelphi Centre at the Oaks, a rural Edwardian mansion at Langham near Colchester, was a socialist education centre with a degree of agricultural self-sufficiency, and had links with George Orwell, John Middleton Murry and other intellectuals.

Frating Hall Farm, on the other hand, was a Christian pacifist community where a 300-acre arable and livestock farm was home to more than 50 people, including refugees and former prisoners-of-war. The story of Frating Hall Farm is told by Ken Worpole in his recent book No Matter How Many Skies Have Fallen: back to the land in wartime Britain (2001). The title of his book is from the opening paragraph of DH Lawrence’s novel, Lady Chatterley’s Lover (1928), and Worpole charts the history of the Frating community over 11 years.

The pacifist community at Frating Hall Farm lasted from 1943 to 1954 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)

A group from Murry’s failing project in Langham took over Frating Hall Farm in 1943 and ran it as a radical pacifist settlement until 1954. At its peak, more than 50 people lived and worked at Frating, one of the most successful of the pacifist rural initiatives providing legitimate alternatives to conscription during World War II.

The settlement also provided shelter and accommodation for visiting supporters at harvest time, and offered sanctuary to refugees and former German prisoners-of-war. Over time, Frating Hall Farm became a centre for the arts, winning the grudging respect of their neighbours.

It was an extraordinary geographical and international cultural mingling of religious and political interests – between the steelworks and mines of north-east England, bohemian London, rural Anglicanism, Russian anarchism and Jewish phenomenology. Many of the community members at Frating Hall shared strong religious beliefs and an interest in the works of Leo Tolstoy, DH Lawrence, and religious philosophers, writers and theologians such as Nikolai Berdyaev, Martin Buber and Simone Weil – all referred to in letters and farm broadsheets.

Shirley Williams (1930-2021), later a Labour cabinet minister, went to work there as the ‘second cowman’ after leaving school at the age of 18. She was in charge of ‘a herd of Ayrshire dairy cows, handsome red-and-white animals of a certain temper.’

Her mother Vera Brittain (1893-1970) contributed towards buying the farm. Shirley Williams learnt much of her politics at Frating from the earnest radicals there, particularly the charismatic Joe Watson. She later recalled her experiences at Frating in her autobiography Climbing the Bookshelves.

When the co-operative structure was dissolved in 1954, a former Quaker member bought the farm at Frating Hall, and eventually bequeathed it to his stepson, Martyn Thomas, who arrived there at the age of four and then continued to farm there with his wife Barbara.

Frating is part of Clacton constituency, where the MP is Nigel Farage. I had thought of visiting Clacton-on-Sea for a walk on the beach. But, by the time we had finished our afternoon business, darkness had enveloped the Essex countryside, and we returned to Colchester under the January full moon, which is known as the Wolf Moon – because it was thought wolves howled more at this time of year as there was less food in the middle of winter.

The parish church in Frating dates from the 12th century and is now a private house (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)

The Capsali family: generations of rabbis and scholars for 300 years in Crete

The name of Kapsali Street, off Tombazi Street in Crete, evokes memories of the Capsali family, one of the leading Jewish families in Rethymnon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)

Patrick Comerford

I searched without results in Rethymnon over the past week for any signs or remains of the Jewish quarter in the town. The records of the Jewish community in Crete, which extend from 1228 to 1583, show a remarkably stable elite of families with names such as Capsali, Casani and Delmedigo, who were dominant in Jewish life in Crete for five or six centuries.

Kapsali Street, off Tombazi Street, is just three minutes walk from where I was staying, and the name of the street evokes memories of the Capsali family, one of the leading Jewish families in Rethymnon.

The Capsali family were a distinguished Romaniote family of scholars in Crete, Venice and Constantinople in the 15th and 16th centuries. They took their family name from Capsali, a village in the southern part of the Greek island of Kythira. Members of the Capsali family served as constables (condestabile) and heads of the Jewish community in Crete on several occasions, and they included a number of distinguished rabbis and scholars known for their work in the Torah and the Talmud and as historians and philosophers.

By 1320, the Jewish community in Rethymnon lived in the old burgus or suburb, outside the Byzantine city. Sabateus Capsali, the Jewish owner of several houses abutting the walls of the suburb, was then authorised to open windows in this wall by Pietro Bragadin, the rector or governor of Rethymnon.

Some time later, two Jews were granted vacant land on the other side of the wall, in parte exterior dicti burgi … extra burgum, and allowed to build houses. Later they received permission to build the houses along the wall where Capsali had opened the windows.

References in documents in 1328 to Parnas Capsali ben Solomon ben Joseph indicate, perhaps, that by the early 14th century the Capsali family had been living in Crete for at least three generations.

By the 15th century, the Jewish population of Crete was estimated at 1,160. From that time on, the Capsali family included leading rabbis such as Moses ben Elijah Capsali (1420-1495), Elijah Capsali (ca 1483-1555) and Elkanah Capsali. Moses Capsali became Hakham Bashi or Chief Rabbi of the Ottoman Empire, while Elijah Capsali later wrote histories of Crete and Venice.

Elijah Capsali, who was living in Crete in the early 15th century, was the father of two distinguished sons Moses and David Capsali, a distinguished grandson Elkanah Capsali, and a learned great-grandson Elijah Capsali.

Moses ben Elijah Capsali (1420-1495) was the Chief Rabbi of the Ottoman Empire in the 15th century. He born in Crete in 1420 and as a young man left Iraklion to study in Germany. He is next mentioned as a rabbi in Constantinople ca 1450. He rose to prominence during the reign of Sultan Mehmed II, who appointed him Chief Rabbi and gave him seat in the divan or Ottoman court beside the mufti, the Muslim religious leader, and above the Orthodox Patriarch of Constantinople.

The sultan’s respect for the rabbi is said to have come about when, disguised as a civilian, Mehmed II was present one day while Capsali was rendering his decisions. He was assured himself that the rabbi was incorruptible and impartial in his judgments. It is said the rabbi prompted the sultan’s plans improve the moral conditions of some parts of Constantinople.

Capsali dealt very severely with Jewish youths who imitated the un-Jewish and immoral lifestyles of the janissaries lives. Some of these youths, enraged by the corporal punishment Capsali inflicted on them, attempted to kill him during a street riot in 1481, but he escaped by fleeing.

Capsali was equally influential at the court of Sultan Bayezid II, Mehmed II’s son and successor. This resulted in the ready reception of Jewish exiles who had been expelled from Spain.

Capsali directed communal affairs with considerable skill, and commanded general respect. He lived an ascetic lifestyle, fasting frequently and sleeping on a bare floor.

He was an advocate of rigorous rabbinical Judaism, severely criticising the attempt of some rabbis to instruct the Karaites in the Talmud. However, Capsali’s critics accused him of being an ignorant and unscrupulous rabbi, and addressed their complaints to Joseph Colon in Italy, one of the greatest rabbinical authorities of the time. They accused Capsali of being careless in deciding cases dealing with marital troubles.

However, in the ensuing controversy, men like Judah Minz and the three learned Del Medigo brothers (Elkanah, Moses, and Elijah), and many other rabbis supported Capsali. He died ca 1495 in Constantinople.

Moses Capsali was a kinsman of Eliezer Capsali, a Talmudist in Constantinople in the second half of the 15th century. In answer to the appeal of the Karaites, whose literary degeneracy was then notorious, he consented to instruct them in rabbinic traditions. The only conditions he imposed on his pupils should refrain from vilifying the Talmudic authorities, and from desecrating the holy days of the rabbinical calendar.

This attempt to reconcile the Karaites with Talmudic Judaism, or at least to soften their hostile attitude toward it, did not meet with the approval of the rigorists among the rabbis. Even Moses Capsali, who certainly was independent enough otherwise, stoutly opposed his kinsman Eliezer Capsali, perhaps chiefly because it was not customary to treat the Karaites in a friendly manner.

Moses Capsali’s brother, David Capsali, was the father of Elkanah ben David Capsali, a Talmudist and philanthropist in the second half of the 15th century. He studied under his uncle, Moses Capsali, in Constantinople, and in Padua. When he returned to Iraklion, he married another family member, Pothula Capsali, and became one of the most prominent members of the Jewish community in Venetian-ruled Crete.

He was condestable (‘high constable’), one of the highest officers in the Jewish community in Iraklion, in 1493. In that role, he was active in relieving the sufferings of Jewish exiles expelled that year from Spain who arrived in Iraklion, then the Venetian city of Candia. In one day alone, 22 July 1493, he collected 250 Venetian gulden, a large sum at that time, for their relief.

Elkanah Capsali’s eldest son, David Capsali, travelled to Constantinople and may have been among the 17 people who wrote the statutes of the Jewish community in Iraklion in 1574.

Elkanah Capsali was also the father of Elijah ben Elkanah Capsali (ca 1485-1490 to post 1550), a notable rabbi, Talmudist and historian. His chronicle of Venice may be the first example of a diasporic Jew writing a history of their own location (Venice).

Elijah ben Elkanah Capsali was born in Iraklion ca 1485-1490. He left Crete in 1508 or 1509 to study in Padua in the yeshiva of Judah Minz. However, Judah Minz died eight days after Capsali's arrival, and so he went to study with Meïr Katzenellenbogen, Minz’s son-in-law and successor.

When his studies were interrupted by the occupation of Padua by German troops in 1509, Elijah then moved to Venice, but returned to Crete in 1510 to study under Isaac Mangelheim.

He was the leader of the Jewish community in Iraklion by 1522, with three assistants. Soon after, the plague devastated Iraklion, and the sufferings of Jews in the city was aggravated by their enforced isolation in the Jewish quarter, and Capsali worked unselfishly to relieve the stricken.

When the Chief Rabbi of Crete, Menahem del Medigo, became too old to officiate, Elijah Capsali and Judah del Medigo were appointed rabbis of the community. He became the Chief Rabbi of Crete ca 1528, and in office he associated himself with several great scholars of his time such as, Jacob Berab and Joseph Karo.

When the Jews of Iraklion were threatened with massacre by the Greek populace in 1538, Capsali took the lead in intervening with the Venetian authorities. When they were saved, he instituted a special local Purim on 18 Tammuz.

Capsali had a learned correspondence with the great Talmudists of his day. He showed remarkable independence of spirit, both in his relations with high authorities and in regard to ancient, time-honoured customs. For example, he abolished the widespread custom in Crete of selling by auction the honour of ‘bridegroom of the Torah.’ Instead, he ordered that this honour should be conferred on a scholar or other prominent person in the community.

Capsali showed independence and self-confidence in his decisions, but was opposed by many of his colleagues and contemporaries, including prominent rabbis and his associate rabbi in Iraklion, Judah del Medigo.

Elijah Capsali was the author of a number of works, including a history of Venice. The original manuscript is in the British Museum and includes material on other Italian cities and a section on the persecutions of the Jews in Germany.

He also wrote a history of the Turkish empire from the earliest times up to 1522. The manuscript is in the Bodleian Library and in the British Museum. It throws much light on the history of Jews in Turkey, and a section on Spain and Portugal down to the expulsion of the Jews at the end of the 15th century. He died in Crete ca 1555.

Capsali is remembered today for his ecstatic sentiment, exuberant messianism and exaggerated claims have dominated Jewish historiography for five centuries. He cast the Ottoman sultans in the redemptive image of Cyrus the Great, who allowed the Jews to return to Jerusalem after the Babylonian captivity, and he believed the world in his time was facing a final apocalyptic conflict between Islam and Christianity, Gog and Magog, that would usher in the Messiah and a messianic age.

Looking down Kapsali Street towards the Cathedral … could this have been part of the old Jewish quarter of Rethymnon? (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)

Shabbat Shalom

Next Friday: the Delmedigo family in Crete

Easter 1822 and memories of the Massacre of Chios 200 years ago

‘Scenes from the Massacres at Chios’, Eugène Delacroix (1824), in the Louvre in Paris … the massacre began 200 years ago on Easter Day 1822

Patrick Comerford

I visited the Greek Orthodox Church in Stony Stratford a few times this weekend to see the Orthodox celebrations of Good Friday (22 April 2022), and the celebrations of Easter last night (23 April).

Today is Easter Day in the Greek calendar in the calendar of all Orthodox churches.

But it is difficult today not to be reminded that Easter Day in Greece 200 years ago was marked by the Massacre of Chios in April 1822.

The Massacre of Chios is one of the many horrific events during the Greek War of Independence. The details of this massacre continue to shock and to horrify people as they learn about it.

The island of Chios is an Aegean island that is often counted as one of the Dodecanese islands, and it is just 8 km off the main Anatolian coast of Turkey.

The Chians or Chiots -- the islanders of Chios – never joined in the Greek War of Independence, and enjoyed many privileges under Ottoman rule, including a degree of autonomy, religious freedom, property rights, and exemptions from many taxes on houses, vineyards, orchards and trade.

The islanders had avoided threats of forced conversion to Islam experienced on so many Greek islands, and they were exempt from the devshirme, in which the fittest and strongest boys in families were captured or conscripted and sent to Constantinople, where they were trained as janissaries, an elite and brutal corps.

The island was known for the production of mastic, silk and citrus fruits, and for its sea trade. Many merchant families from Chios dealt in banking, insurance and shipping and founded merchant houses in England, Italy and the Netherlands. Traders from Chios settled in Smyrna, Constantinople, Odessa and other Black Sea ports.

It is easy to understand why the people of Chios rebutted an appeal to support a naval assault on the Ottoman Empire in April 1821. But, a year later, in April 1822, a small number of people from Chios joined a small band from the neighbouring island of Samos who attacked the small Turkish garrison on Chios.

A small number of soldiers were killed. But the response was swift, brutal and merciless.

The bloodbath began on Easter Day 1822 and continued for several months. In a revenge attack in June 1822, Greek insurgents from the neighbouring island of Psara attacked a flagship of the Ottoman navy anchored in the harbour of Chios while its sailors were marking the end of Ramadan. In all, 2,000 men were killed in one assault.

A second wave of savagery was unleashed against the people of Chios.

The original population of the island was 100,000 to 120,000. At least 30,000 were murdered or executed or died by suicide or disease, and another 45,000 people were sold into slavery. Whole villages were wiped out. Of the survivors, about 20,000 people managed to flee to safety on islands under Greek rule.

Richard Calvocoressi, a descendant of one such family from Chios, wrote recently in the New Statesman: ‘For months afterwards the slave markets of the Levant were glutted with Chian boys, girls and young women, for sale at knock-down prices; and for many, slavery meant sexual slavery.’

The massacre inspired Eugène Delacroix’s Scenes from the Massacres at Chios or Scènes des massacres de Scio, completed in 1824. It is an enormous painting in the Louvre seen by millions of visitors each year.

The massacre caused an outcry throughout Europe. Reports of the massacre, Delacroix’s painting and Byron’s writings encouraged Philhellenes to redouble their efforts in support of Greek independence from Ottoman oppression. But Ottoman continued for another 90 years, and Chios did not become part of the modern Greek state until 1912.

Although the composer Mikis Theodorakis (1925-2021) is popularly identified with Crete and was buried there when he died last year, he was born on the island of Chios.

Today, Chios is the fifth largest of the Greek islands, and is one of the Aegean islands that have become a centre for asylum seekers and refugees seeking to arrive in Europe.

Two hundred years after the Massacre of Chios, it is hard not to think of those merchants in Odessa and the brutality in Ukraine today; it is hard not to think of the refugees and slaves created by the massacre and not to think of the refugees and asylum seekers who arrive in Chios and other Greek islands in the hope of finding freedom today.

Swimming in the Aegean at Lost Paradise Beach

Lost Paradise Beach, 15 minutes beyond Ladies’ Beach in Kuşadasi ... it is worth taking the steep path down to the beach for a walk on the sand or swimming in the clear blue Aegean waters (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2010)

Patrick Comerford

Kind guidebooks and websites describe Ladies’ Beach, a few kilometres south of Kuşadasi, as the “Cannes of Turkey.” The Rough Guide to Turkey is less kind when it describes this resort as “a brash, mercenary and unpleasant Las-Vegas-on-Sea.”

But luxury cruisers continue to stop here every day, for Kuşadasi is the main port for Ephesus, and the resort is also popular with Russians wanting to buy low-price but good quality jewellery, carpets and furs. And classists and Biblical scholars alike love the place, for this is the gateway not only to Ephesus and the Artemision, but also to Priene, Miletus and Didyma, and it is possible from here to go on a day-trip to Hierapolis, Pamukkale and Laodicea.

Ladies’ Beach in Kuşadasi ... it may not be the Cannes of the Eastern Mediterranean, but it is a pleasant place for a walk on the beach, or for dinner in the evening (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2010)

The Rough Guide speaks of Kusadasi being filled with touts targeting single women and “beer guzzling holiday makers.” It goes on to warn that while “Kadinlar Denizi (Ladies’ Beach) may suggest itself as a cheap and cheerful base ... accommodation here can be squalid, and the poor beach can’t compensate for its relative remoteness.”

However, I am staying in the Palmin Sunset Plaza Hotel, just beyond Ladies’ Beach, at the end of a short dolmus trip. The hotel staff are cheerful, but this is certainly not cheap. And, as this my third time here, so you can imagine I find both the accommodation and the location anything but squalid, poor or remote.

Each morning, I have breakfast looking out at the sea, with small sandy beach below. I have been able to swim in the pool every day. Most evenings, I have taken the five-minute dolmus run, costing about 75 cent each trip, down to Ladies’ Beach to stroll along the promenade, watching the sun set majestically in the water just north of the island of Samos, and to sit and dine, viewing the waves roll into the beach from a moon-lit Aegean.

But instead of going to Ladies’ Beach yesterday [Monday, 16 August 2010], I took the steep path behind the hotel down a small beach the glories in the name of “Lost Paradise” (Kayip Cennet). The path is tough and difficult for anyone with my health problems, but the reward is wonderful, and I would have to be wallowing in self-pity not to want to walk down to this beach.

The temperatures were in the high 30s all day, hovering between 37 and 39 into the afternoon. I started reading Janet Soskice’s Sisters of Sinai, her account of Scottish twin sisters and their discovery of an early copy of the Four Gospels in Saint Catherine’s Monastery in Mount Sinai.

This is an historical work by the Professor of Philosophical Theology at Cambridge. But it is written with the pace and delight of a first-class novel, and full of people and places I know from stories heard and read in places I too delight in – from Cambridge to Greece, Turkey and the Middle East, and even with people I have met, including Father Justin, who once welcomed me to the Library in Saint Catherine’s.

I was on the beach at “Lost Paradise” when I came to the point where the young Smith sisters, Agnes and Margaret, arrive in Constantinople, and then move on to Smyrna, and find that they immediately like the Turks.

I could have sat there all day, reading this book. But I was also tempted constantly to, take breaks to swim in the clean, clear, aquamarine water, with sand beneath that seems to stretch for miles out into the sea.

Swimming is a pleasure in the clean, clear, aquamarine waters at Lost Paradise Beach, with sand that seems to stretch for miles out into the sea (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2010)

Eventually, but with a touch of reluctance, I left in the late afternoon, and climbed back up the steep path to the Palmin Sunset Plaza, to have a shower and to get ready for dinner in the back streets of the old walled town of Kuşadasi.