Daily prayer in Ordinary Time 2026: 91, Thursday 6 August 2026, The Transfiguration

The Transfiguration depicted in the Church of the Transfiguration in Piskopianó, in the hills above Hersonissos in Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford; click on image for full-screen viewing)

Patrick Comerford

We are continuing in Ordinary Time in the Church Calendar and the week began with the Ninth Sunday after Trinity (Trinity IX, 2 August 2026). The Church Calendar today celebrates the Feast of the Transfiguration (6 August 2026).

Today also marks the 81sh anniversary of the atomic bombing of Hiroshima on 6 August 1945. To mark this anniversary later this evening, Charlotte and I plan to take part in the annual Hiroshima Day commemorations at the Japanese Peace Pagoda beside Willen Lake in Milton Keynes, a ceremony we have been attending for the past five years.

The Anglican Pacifist Fellowship and Christian CND are also marking Hiroshima Day with an online prayer vigil at 8 pm this evening, gathering to remember, pray and renew a shared commitment to peace. Coventry Cathedral is holding its annual Hiroshima Day Remembrance at 6 pm. The evening includes a reflection from CND General Secretary Sophie Bolt, Taiko drumming, an exchange of messages with Hiroshima, and a paper crane workshop.

I visited Hiroshima when I was a student in Japan in 1979, and for over 40 years I took part in Irish CND’s Hiroshima Day commemorations in Merrion Park, Dublin. During the day, I shall be remembering the many victims of the Hiroshima and the survivors, and praying for all who campaign for peace and an end to war throughout the world. But, 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 Gospel reading;

3, a prayer from the USPG prayer diary;

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

The Church of the Transfiguration in Piskopianó in the mountains above Hersonissos in Crete was established in 2002, completed in 2008 and dedicated in 2014 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Luke 9: 28-36 (NRSVA):

28 Now about eight days after these sayings Jesus took with him Peter and John and James, and went up on the mountain to pray. 29 And while he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white. 30 Suddenly they saw two men, Moses and Elijah, talking to him. 31 They appeared in glory and were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem. 32 Now Peter and his companions were weighed down with sleep; but since they had stayed awake, they saw his glory and the two men who stood with him. 33 Just as they were leaving him, Peter said to Jesus, ‘Master, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah’ – not knowing what he said. 34 While he was saying this, a cloud came and overshadowed them; and they were terrified as they entered the cloud. 35 Then from the cloud came a voice that said, ‘This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!’ 36 When the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. And they kept silent and in those days told no one any of the things they had seen.

The Transfiguration (Metamorphosis) … an icon by Hanna-Leena Ward in her recent exhibition in Lichfield Cathedral (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2026)

Today’s Reflection:

My mind is focussed this morning on the hoorrors of the Hiroshima bombing on 6 August 1945. I visited Hiroshima when I was on a student fellowship in Japan in 1979, and the sheer horror and terror I tapped into during that visit has never left me. And I continue to fret at the consequences of the world having ignored the lessons we should have learned from Hiroshima over the past 81 years.

In recent days, Trump has warned that the US is still ‘locked and loaded’ and prepared for ‘levels of Military Terror, Strength, and Power not seen since World War II’, that he is considering a massive attack’ on war that will be ‘bigger than ever before’, In other words, in his wicked and vile moments, does he thinks it is his right – please take some moments to ponder this – to threaten to unleash terror that is greater than the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, than the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Does he mean even greater than the Holocaust?

But ever since my visit to Hiroshima, for me, the bright light that vaporised the city and hundreds of thousands of people on 6 August 1945 has been in shap contrast to the hope offered by the Transfiguration, a feast celebrated each year on 6 August.

During my recent return visits to Crete, staying in Rethymnon for the Greek celebrations of Easter, I have also returned to the village of Piskopianó in the hillside above Hersonissos, which I have known for more than 30 years, since the mid-1990s.

The new village church in Piskopianó, which has been renamed the Church of the Transfiguration, was built in 2002-2008 and was dedicated in 2014. A fresco of the Transfiguration in the church shows, on the left, Christ leading the three disciples, Peter, James and John, up the mountain; in the centre, these three disciples are stumbling and falling as they witness and experience the Transfiguration; and then, to the right, Christ is leading these three back down the side of the mountain.

In other words, we are invited to see the Transfiguration not as a static moment but as a dynamic event. It is a living event in which we are invited to move from all in the past that weighs us down, to experience the full life that Christ offers us today, and to bring this into how we live our lives as Disciples in the future, a future that begins here and now.

The Transfiguration is both an event and a process. The original Greek word for Transfiguration in the Gospels is μεταμόρφωσις (metamorphosis), which means ‘to progress from one state of being to another.’ Consider the metamorphosis of the chrysalis into the butterfly. Saint Paul uses the same word (μεταμόρφωσις) when he describes how the Christian is to be transfigured, transformed, into the image of Christ (II Corinthians 3: 18).

This metamorphosis invites us into the event of becoming what we have been created to be. This is what Orthodox writers call deification. Transfiguration is a profound change, by God, in Christ, through the Spirit. And so, the Transfiguration reveals to us our ultimate destiny as Christians, the ultimate destiny of all people and all creation – to be transformed and glorified by the majestic splendour of God himself.

The Transfiguration points to Christ’s great and glorious Second Coming and the fulfilment of the Kingdom of God, when all of creation shall be transfigured and filled with light.

According to Saint Gregory Palamas, the light of the Transfiguration ‘is not something that comes to be and then vanishes.’ It not only prefigures the eternal blessedness that all Christians look forward to, but also the Kingdom of God already revealed, realised and come.

The Transfiguration is described in the three Synoptic Gospels (see Matthew 17: 1-9; Mark 9: 2-8; Luke 9: 28-36), and all three accounts are very similar in wording.

The Transfiguration is an encounter with God as the Trinity; it is a reminder with the presence of Moses and Elijah that Christ is the fulfilment of the Law and the Prophets; it is a meeting of past, present and future; and it is a reminder of how frail is our humanity in the responses of the three Disciples present, Peter, James and John.

The Transfiguration is a reminder that God has created us in God’s image and likeness, that in Christ’s Incarnation, God took on our image and likeness, and that now we are called once again to take on the image and likeness of God.

In a lecture in Cambridge many years ago [2011], I heard the late Metropolitan Kallistos [Ware], who was the pre-eminent Orthodox theologian in England, speak of the Transfiguration as a disclosure not only of what God is but of what we are. It reminds us of our beginning, but also reminds us of the possibilities and the potentials of what it is to become like God once again.

But is the response of the disciples to the Transfiguration one that we should imitate or emulate?

As they hear the voice of God, they fall down in terror, they are overcome by fear, they are made speechless.

They are immobilised and when they think of acting, look at what they want to do: they want to put up three booths, or tents, or dwelling places, in which they can keep Jesus and Moses and Elijah. It is as if, frightened of the new, they want to fall back on the old certainties.

It is as if they want to contain God, to capture God, to keep God in a place where they can be assured of the old certainties, to turn God into a god that they can contain, capture and control. They want to put God in a box, to keep God in a box.

And, so often, instead of wanting to be in the image and likeness of God, people want God to be in our image and likeness, doing our bidding rather than listening to what God wants of us.

Seeking to capture God, to make God a captive and to control God, are strong religious instincts throughout history. In the 20th century, Hitler used the German Churches to control the people of Germany. In more recent years, the simple faith of many American people has been hijacked to support extreme politics in a land that once prided itself on the separation of state and religion.

This is what Professor Rachel S Mikva of Chicago Theological Seminary describes as ‘dangerous religious ideas’ (Dangerous Religious Ideas: The Deep Roots of Self-Critical Faith in Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, Penguin, 2020).

In an ‘Opinion’ column for USA Today in the wake of Donald Trump’s attempt to storm the Capitol in Washington on 6 January 2021, she argued that ‘Religion is a dangerous business.’ In the response to the insurrection and violence in Washington, she tried to go beyond the revulsion all of us must feel when white Christian nationalism turns violent, and she drew attention to the ‘substantial number of Christians who plan to take the country for Jesus another way.’

The Christian right is ‘distorting the very meaning of religious freedom,’ she wrote. There is the obvious danger we have seen recently, with extremists who call themselves Christians ‘ready to bring on the apocalypse.’

But she warns of ‘a more resilient threat’ posed by people who claim the mantle of being Christians and who are ‘embedded throughout the governing institutions in the US – courts, military, legislatures, agencies and the police.’ In her words, they pose a real threat ‘to religious pluralism in the United States.’

She argued cogently for the need for ‘consciousness of the vital self-critical dimensions of faith,’ and said: ‘Whatever one’s spiritual life stance, we are choosing in every moment whether its power will be wielded for harm or for blessing.’

Power for harm; or power for blessing.

Do we want to keep God in a box as a power for harm; or do we really want to see God being God, and empowering us to be a power for blessing in the world?

I see this as the first great challenge posed by the Transfiguration.

And the second is like unto it: to see humanity as Christ in the Transfiguration would see us and would have us see each other.

Do I, so often, put people in a box in a way that denies they are made in the image and likeness of God? That they are called to become, once again, like God in Christ … what the Orthodox call ‘deification’ …?

Every time I dismiss someone because of their social background, where they were born, their gender, sexuality, ethnicity or parentage, I am making these differences more important than the way God sees them: made in God’s image and likeness, and holding, embodying the light of God in Christ.

Because those characteristics, those traits, are not self-chosen; they come at birth, we do not ask for them, you might say they are God-given. For, indeed, God sees us in God’s own image and likeness, God sees in each one of us the potential to reflect the light of Christ in the Transfiguration.

Let’s not box God in, hidden away under a booth or in a tent. Let God be God, and let’s stop trying to control him by using him to our political and social advantage.

Let’s stop categorising people so we marginalise them instead of seeing them in God’s image and likeness.

For, when we love God and love others, we see the light of God in them and, hopefully, they see the light of God in us.

When she was the guest chaplain in the House of Representatives in 1995, Rabbi Rachel Mikva included these thoughts in her prayers:

However passionately we may cling to our vision of truth,
we must never fail to recognise your image, God,
reflected in the face of the other …

Ultimately, we stand before you,
naked of power or possessions,
seeking only to understand your will
and do it with a whole heart …

God, we pray that our words and our deeds
may be for Your sake,
bringing healing to our world
and wholeness to all those whose lives we touch.

Amen. אָמֵן׃

The Transfiguration … an icon in the Lady Chapel in Lichfield Cathedral (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Today’s Prayers (Thursday 6 August 2026, The Transfiguration):

In Pray with the World Church, the prayer diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), the theme this week (2-8 August 2026, pp 24-25), is ‘Faith Under Pressure in Nicaragua’. This theme was introduced on Sunday with a Reflection by the Most Revd Juan David Alvarado, Bishop of El Salvador and Primate of the Province of the Anglican Church in Central America.

The USPG prayer diary today (Thursday 6 August 2026) invites us to pray:

Almighty God, in the Transfiguration you revealed Christ’s glory to his disciples. Strengthen us as your Church to hear your voice, bear our cross, and reflect your light in the world.

An icon of the Transfiguration in the Church of the Transfiguration in Piskopianó (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

The Collect:

Father in heaven,
whose Son Jesus Christ was wonderfully transfigured
before chosen witnesses upon the holy mountain,
and spoke of the exodus he would accomplish at Jerusalem:
give us strength so to hear his voice and bear our cross
that in the world to come we may see him as he is;
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.

The Post Communion Prayer:

Holy God,
we see your glory in the face of Jesus Christ:
may we who are partakers at his table
reflect his life in word and deed,
that all the world may know his power to change and save.
This we ask through Jesus Christ our Lord.

The chapel on the highest peak on Mount Athos, at 2,033 metres, is dedicated to the Transfiguration (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Yesterday’s reflections

Continued tomorrow

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

The Monastery of Great Meteoro, the largest of the monasteries at Meteora, is dedicated to the Transfiguration (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

The Greeks have a word (or two) for it: 64, καφές (coffee), Φραπές (frappé)

A frappé and a Greek coffee (ena ellinikó skéto) on the go at Damnoni on the south coast of Crete, south of Rethymnon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Patrick Comerford

I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
So how should I presume?

― TS Eliot, The Love Song of J Alfred Prufrock

I suppose I could measure out my time in Greece with coffee too. In Greece, a Greek coffee or ελληνικός καφές is often simply ένα ελληνικό (ena hellenikó). It is strong and rich in flavour, finely ground and made and served in a μπρίκι (briki), a traditional small brass pot with a long handle.

Traditionally, it is made over a gas burner and at the top it should always have a generous layer of froth known as καϊμάκι (kaimáki). It is served with a cube of λουκούμι (loukoumi), which is similar to Turkish delight.

When ordering your coffee in Greek, it is important to be clear how sweet you like it: plain with no sugar, ένα ελληνικό σκέτο (ena ellinikó skéto); medium sweet, ένα ελληνικό μέτριο (ena ellinikó métrio); or sweet, έναν ελληνικό γλυκό (ena ellinikó glykó). Mine is always ένα σκέτο.

A Greek coffee in the mountains in Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

How to make a Greek coffee:

Ingredients:

• Finely ground Greek coffee
• Cold water
• Sugar (optional)

Equipment:

• A briki (small long-handled pot)
• A small coffee cup (demitasse)

Steps:

1, Measure Water and Coffee
2, Use a small coffee cup to measure cold water and pour it into the briki
3, Add one heaped teaspoon of finely ground Greek coffee per cup of water
4, Add sugar (optional)
5, Stir the coffee and sugar (if added) until dissolved
6, Place the briki on a low to medium heat. Do not stir while heating
7, Let the coffee heat slowly until καϊμάκι (kaimáki) or thick foam forms on top. Watch closely to make sure it does not boil over
8, Just before it boils, take the briki off the heat, let it settle, then briefly return to the heat to enhance the foam
9, Pour the coffee into the small cups, distributing the foam evenly. Let the grounds settle before drinking

Some little extras:

• Serve with water: traditionally, Greek coffee is served with a glass of cold water
• Sip slowly: enjoy the coffee slowly, allowing the grounds to settle at the bottom
• Do not drink the sediment
• Serve with treats: enjoy with a small cube of loukoumi, a small biscuit or a piece of chocolate

A Greek coffee and a frappé on a sunny afternoon at Finikas Taverna in Plakias, near Rethymnon in Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

A particularly Greek drink, especially at this time of the year, is a frappé or φραπέ, a cold iced coffee normally made with instant coffee, water and sugar, and often with milk. Frappés are one of the most popular forms of coffee in Greece and they quickly become a hallmark of postwar outdoor Greek coffee culture.

Popular Greek myths say the frappé was invented almost 70 years ago in Thessaloniki in 1957 by Dimitris Vakondios, a Nescafe representative or by Christos Lenzos (1930-2023), who owned a coffeehouse in Pangrati in suburban Athens from 1964 to 2013.

The name frappé (‘punched’ or ‘shaken’) comes from French and describes a drink chilled with ice. A variety of cold coffee drinks named café frappé (à la glace) are documented from some time in the 19th century. Some were similar to slushies, others more like iced coffee.

The Greek version of café frappé, using instant coffee, was invented in 1957 at the Thessaloniki International Fair. Giannis Dritsas, a representative of the Nestlé company, was exhibiting a new product for children, a chocolate beverage made instantly by mixing it with milk and shaking it in a shaker. Dritsas’s employee, Dimitris Vakondios, was looking for a way to have his usual instant coffee during his break but could find no hot water. He mixed coffee with cold water and ice cubes in a shaker, and so the Greek frappé was invented.

However, Nikos Bakounakis first questioned this story in 2006, and it was questioned again by the magazine Gastronomos in 2013. Based on Nestlé’s newspaper advertisements leading up to the 1957 Thessaloniki International Trade Fair, it appears the product was already being promoted as ‘Nescafé frappé’, either as iced coffee with ice cubes or as a shaken drink, but shaken perhaps not in a shaker but with a spoon.

A year earlier, ‘Shaken, not stirred’, the catchphrase of James Bond when it came to his preference for a vodka martini, was introduced in Ian Fleming’s 1956 novel Diamonds Are Forever.

Five years before that, in the 1951 film Προ παντός ψυχραιμία (You’ve Got to Keep Cool) starring Mimis Fotopoulos and Dinos Iliopoulos, Iliopoulos makes a direct reference to frappe coffee, which the two protagonists prepared with a shaker at Pavlidis Patisserie on Amerikis Square in Athens: ‘If we make even the slightest mistake, they’ll turn us into a frappé!’

Nevertheless, Vakondios’s improvised experiment is thought to have established the frappé and it quickly grew in popularity in Greece. Nestlé capitalised on the drink with intense marketing campaigns in the 1980s that broadened the drink’s popularity and left the brand name Nescafé inextricably linked with frappé throughout.

Today, the drink is usually simply called a ‘frappé’ in Greece, but in the past it was often called a ‘Nescafé frappé’, and nescaf remains the Greek colloquial word for instant coffee, no matter what the brand may be.

A Greek coffee and a frappé in the shade at Pavlos Beach in Platanias near Rethymnon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

A frappé can be made with a cocktail shaker or, more commonly today, with an electric milk frother or milkshake machine. Instant coffee, optional sugar optional and a little water are shaken or blended together until a thick foam is made. This is then poured into a glass with ice cubes and cold water. Milk, traditionally evaporated milk or sometimes condensed milk, is added to it optionally. Frappé is almost always served with a drinking straw as many find the thick foam formed on top is unpleasantly bitter.

The spray-dried instant coffee used to make a frappé contains almost no oil and this allows the frappé’s characteristically thick layer of foam to form. Frappé foam is similar to crema, the foam found in espresso, but thicker and longer lasting due to its oilless composition. Depending on the initial size of the foam’s bubbles and the frappé’s sugar content, water drains from the foam over two to 10 minutes. It will thicken until it forms a nearly solid foam that then slowly dissipates.

Frappés made with freshly brewed coffee or freeze-dried instant coffee, which both contain significantly more oils than spray-dried instant coffee, produce only short-lived foams. In addition, the method of preparing the frappé can impact the bubbles on top of the coffee.

As with Greek coffee, a frappé is generally ordered by specifying sweetness and the option to add milk:

Γλυκός (glykós, sweet), four spoonfuls of sugar
μέτριος (métrios, medium), two spoonfuls sugar
σκέτος (skétos, plain), no sugar

Milk, usually evaporated milk, is generally not added unless you explicitly use the phrase με γάλα (me gála, with milk). In a similar way, it can be explicitly asked for without milk by saying χωρίς γάλα (horís gála, without milk). A frappé with milk is occasionally called φραπόγαλο (frapógalo, frappé-milk).

In some beach bars, alcoholic liqueurs such as Kahlúa or Baileys Irish Cream, may be added to a frappé. Some restaurants may add a ball of vanilla ice cream to a frappé instead of milk.

Although technically not frappés, since they are not shaken, some variations are stirred with a spoon when a shaker is not available, and this creates a different texture and taste. These variations are generally referred to as κουταλάτος (koutalátos, ‘spoon-made’) or καραβίσιος (karavísios, ‘of the ship’), which has something to do with some association with sailors at sea.

As the popularity of Italian coffee swept the world, the frappé got a revamp and the freddo was born. The freddo espresso is a Greek iced espresso, first made in Athens in 1991 by Yiannis Iosifides and it has grown in popularity ever since. It is often seen as a higher quality frappé. There are several varieties of freddo, including espresso, cappuccino and even flat white versions. A freddo cappuccino is a freddo espresso topped with a cold milk-based foam called αφρόγαλα (afrógala).

Frappés became broadly known outside Greece probably thanks to the 2004 Summer Olympics in Athens, and tourists in Greece have also brought the frappé back home.

A frappé and a Greek coffee in the Taverna Garden in Platanias, near Rethymnon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

How to make a frappé:

Ingredients:

• Instant coffee
• Cold water
• Sugar (optional)
• Ice cubes
• Milk (optional)

Equipment:

• A shaker or a jar with a tight lid or a handheld milk frother
• A tall glass
• A straw

Method:

1, Add 1-2 teaspoons of instant coffee to the shaker or jar
2, Add sugar to taste (optional)
3, Pour in a small amount of cold water (about 2 tablespoons)
4, Close the shaker or jar tightly and shake vigorously for about 30 seconds until a thick foam forms. If using a milk frother, froth the mixture until it’s foamy
5, Pour into a serving glass
6, Add a few ice cubes to the glass
7, Fill the glass with cold water, leaving some space if you want to add milk
8, Add milk (optional)
9, Stir gently with a straw … and enjoy

A frappé and a Greek coffee in the former Lichnos taverna in Piskopiano, in the mountains above Hersonissos in Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

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’

62, Ελευθερία ή θάνατος, ‘Freedom or Death’

63, Ποδόσφαιρο, ‘Football’

64, καφές (coffee), Φραπές (frappé)

65, Odyssey (η Οδύσσεια) and Odysseus (Ὀδυσσεύς)

Series to be continued

Series to be continued

There’s more than one way to enjoy a coffee in Greece … a poster in the old town in Rethymnon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Daily prayer in Ordinary Time 2026: 13, Sunday 15 February 2026, Sunday before Lent

The Transfiguration (Metamorphosis) … an icon by Hanna-Leena Ward in her current exhibition in Lichfield Cathedral (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2026)

Patrick Comerford

We are in the last days of this period of Ordinary Time in the Church Calendar. Today is the Sunday before Lent (15 February 2026) and Lent begins this week on Ash Wednesday (18 February 2026). Many churches and parishes mark this Sunday as Transfiguration Sunday and the traditional name for this Sunday in the Book of Common Prayer was Quinquagesima.

Later this morning, I hope to sing with the choir at the Parish Eucharist in Saint Mary and Saint Giles Church, Stony Stratford. Then, after wall-to-wall rugby yesterday, watching Ireland’s victory over Italy and England’s defeat by Scotland in the Six Nations Championship, I hope to find an appropriate place to watch Wales and France this afternoon. But, before my day 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 Transfiguration … an icon in the Lady Chapel in Lichfield Cathedral (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Matthew 17: 1-9 (NRSVA):

1 Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and his brother John and led them up a high mountain, by themselves. 2 And he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white. 3 Suddenly there appeared to them Moses and Elijah, talking with him. 4 Then Peter said to Jesus, ‘Lord, it is good for us to be here; if you wish, I will make three dwellings here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.’ 5 While he was still speaking, suddenly a bright cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud a voice said, ‘This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!’ 6 When the disciples heard this, they fell to the ground and were overcome by fear. 7 But Jesus came and touched them, saying, ‘Get up and do not be afraid.’ 8 And when they looked up, they saw no one except Jesus himself alone.

9 As they were coming down the mountain, Jesus ordered them, ‘Tell no one about the vision until after the Son of Man has been raised from the dead.’

The Transfiguration depicted in the Church of the Transfiguration in Piskopianó, in the hills above Hersonissos in Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford; click on image for full-screen viewing)

Today’s Reflections:

This morning’s Gospel reading (Matthew 17: 1-9) challenges us to hear God’s word, to see God as God would want us to see God, and to see ourselves as God sees us.

Jesus takes Peter, James and John up a high mountain, by themselves. What were they expecting?

They have been with Christ for some time, but have they had an encounter yet with the Living God?

What did they think God was like?

Whatever they thought of God before this, it certainly was not an encounter or an experience they were expecting.

They have an encounter with the Living God, who within God’s own single existence is also community: Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

God the Father is heard speaking, ‘This is my Son, the beloved.’

God the Holy Spirit is experienced as the cloud hovers the whole scene.

God the Son is revealed to be the living Christ in a way that they had never seen him before.

What do you think God looks like?

God is not some, monolithic, totem-like idol, who needs sacrifices and seeks vengeance, who makes crushing demands on people.

Instead, God is community.

This is also the God of Creation.

Think of how we heard last week as we looked at the Creation story (Genesis 1: 1 to 2: 3) how the Spirit of God swept across the creation like the wind.

This is the God of promises and covenants.

Think of how the Ten Commandments are given to Moses on the top of Mount Sinai, how Elijah has an encounter with the God of promises in the cleft in the mountainside.

This is the God who fulfils all the promises of the covenant: here is Moses on one side.

This is the God who fulfils all the promises of the prophets: here is Elijah on the other side.

This is a God who calls us to action.

When I was back in Rethymnon for the Easter celebrations in Crete the year before last, I managed also to return to the village of Piskopianó in the hillside above Hersonissos, which I have known for more than 30 years, since the mid-1990s.

The new village church in Piskopianó, which has been renamed the Church of the Transfiguration was built in 2002-2008 and was dedicated in 2014. A fresco of the Transfiguration in the church shows, on the left, Christ leading the three disciples, Peter, James and John, up the mountain; in the centre, these three disciples are stumbling and falling as they witness and experience the Transfiguration; and then, to the right, Christ is leading these three back down the side of the mountain.

In other words, we are invited to see the Transfiguration not as a static moment but as a dynamic event. It is a living event in which we are invited to move from all in the past that weighs us down, to experience the full life that Christ offers us today, and to bring this into how we live our lives as Disciples in the future, a future that begins here and now.

The Transfiguration is both an event and a process. The original Greek word for Transfiguration in the Gospels is μεταμόρφωσις (metamorphosis), which means ‘to progress from one state of being to another.’ Consider the metamorphosis of the chrysalis into the butterfly. Saint Paul uses the same word (μεταμόρφωσις) when he describes how the Christian is to be transfigured, transformed, into the image of Christ (II Corinthians 3: 18).

This metamorphosis invites us into the event of becoming what we have been created to be. This is what Orthodox writers call deification. Transfiguration is a profound change, by God, in Christ, through the Spirit. And so, the Transfiguration reveals to us our ultimate destiny as Christians, the ultimate destiny of all people and all creation – to be transformed and glorified by the majestic splendour of God himself.

The Transfiguration points to Christ’s great and glorious Second Coming and the fulfilment of the Kingdom of God, when all of creation shall be transfigured and filled with light.

According to Saint Gregory Palamas, the light of the Transfiguration ‘is not something that comes to be and then vanishes.’ It not only prefigures the eternal blessedness that all Christians look forward to, but also the Kingdom of God already revealed, realised and come.

The Transfiguration is described in the three Synoptic Gospels (see Matthew 17: 1-9; Mark 9: 2-8; Luke 9: 28-36), and all three accounts are very similar in wording.

The Transfiguration is an encounter with God as the Trinity; it is a reminder with the presence of Moses and Elijah that Christ is the fulfilment of the Law and the Prophets; it is a meeting of past, present and future; and it is a reminder of how frail is our humanity in the responses of the three Disciples present, Peter, James and John.

The Transfiguration is a reminder that God has created us in God’s image and likeness, that in Christ’s Incarnation, God took on our image and likeness, and that now we are called once again to take on the image and likeness of God.

In a lecture in Cambridge many years ago [2011], I heard the late Metropolitan Kallistos [Ware], who was the pre-eminent Orthodox theologian in England, speak of the Transfiguration as a disclosure not only of what God is but of what we are. It reminds us of our beginning, but also reminds us of the possibilities and the potentials of what it is to become like God once again.

But is the response of the disciples to the Transfiguration one that we should imitate or emulate?

As they hear the voice of God, they fall down in terror, they are overcome by fear, they are made speechless.

They are immobilised and when they think of acting, look at what they want to do: they want to put up three booths, or tents, or dwelling places, in which they can keep Jesus and Moses and Elijah. It is as if, frightened of the new, they want to fall back on the old certainties.

It is as if they want to contain God, to capture God, to keep God in a place where they can be assured of the old certainties, to turn God into a god that they can contain, capture and control. They want to put God in a box, to keep God in a box.

And, so often, instead of wanting to be in the image and likeness of God, people want God to be in our image and likeness, doing our bidding rather than listening to what God wants of us.

Seeking to capture God, to make God a captive and to control God, are strong religious instincts throughout history. In the 20th century, Hitler used the German Churches to control the people of Germany. In more recent years, the simple faith of many American people has been hijacked to support extreme politics in a land that once prided itself on the separation of state and religion.

This is what Professor Rachel S Mikva of Chicago Theological Seminary describes as ‘dangerous religious ideas’ (Dangerous Religious Ideas: The Deep Roots of Self-Critical Faith in Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, Penguin, 2020).

In an ‘Opinion’ column for USA Today in the wake of Donald Trump’s attempt to storm the Capitol in Washington five years ago [6 January 2021], she argued that ‘Religion is a dangerous business.’ In the response to the insurrection and violence in Washington, she tried to go beyond the revulsion all of us must feel when white Christian nationalism turns violent, and she drew attention to the ‘substantial number of Christians who plan to take the country for Jesus another way.’

The Christian right is ‘distorting the very meaning of religious freedom,’ she wrote. There is the obvious danger we have seen recently, with extremists who call themselves Christians ‘ready to bring on the apocalypse.’

But she warned of ‘a more resilient threat’ posed by people who claim the mantle of being Christians and who are ‘embedded throughout the governing institutions in the US – courts, military, legislatures, agencies and the police.’ In her words, they pose a real threat ‘to religious pluralism in the United States.’

She argued cogently for the need for ‘consciousness of the vital self-critical dimensions of faith,’ and said: ‘Whatever one’s spiritual life stance, we are choosing in every moment whether its power will be wielded for harm or for blessing.’

Power for harm; or power for blessing.

Do we want to keep God in a box as a power for harm; or do we really want to see God being God, and empowering us to be a power for blessing in the world?

I see this as the first great challenge posed by the Transfiguration.

And the second is like it: to see humanity as Christ in the Transfiguration would see us and would have us see each other.

Do I, so often, put people in a box in a way that denies they are made in the image and likeness of God? That they are called to become, once again, like God in Christ … what the Orthodox call ‘deification’ …?

The Revd Dr Kenneth Leech (1939-2015), the Anglican ‘slum priest’ in the East End of London, once said: ‘Transfiguration can and does occur “just around the corner,” occurs in the midst of perplexity, imperfection, and disastrous misunderstanding.’

Every time I dismiss someone because of their social background, where they were born, their gender, sexuality, ethnicity or parentage, I am making these differences more important than the way God sees them: made in God’s image and likeness, and holding, embodying the light of God in Christ.

Because those characteristics, those traits, are not self-chosen; they come at birth, we do not ask for them, you might say they are God-given. For, indeed, God sees us in God’s own image and likeness, God sees in each one of us the potential to reflect the light of Christ in the Transfiguration.

Let’s not box God in, hidden away under a booth or in a tent. Let God be God, and let’s stop trying to control him by using him to our political and social advantage.

Let’s stop categorising people so we marginalise them instead of seeing them in God’s image and likeness.

For, when we love God and love others, we see the light of God in them and, hopefully, they see the light of God in us.

When she was the guest chaplain in the House of Representatives in 1995, Rabbi Rachel Mikva included these thoughts in her prayers:

However passionately we may cling to our vision of truth,
we must never fail to recognise your image, God,
reflected in the face of the other …

Ultimately, we stand before you,
naked of power or possessions,
seeking only to understand your will
and do it with a whole heart …

God, we pray that our words and our deeds
may be for your sake,
bringing healing to our world
and wholeness to all those whose lives we touch.

Amen. אָמֵן׃

An icon of the Transfiguration in the Church of the Transfiguration in Piskopianó (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Today’s Prayers (Sunday 15 February 2026):

The theme this week (15-21 February 2026) in ‘Pray With the World Church,’ the Prayer Diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), is: ‘Look to the Amazon!’ (pp 28-29). This theme is introduced today with a Programme Update by the Most Revd Marinez Bassotto, Bishop of Amazonia and Archbishop of the Igreja Episcopal Anglicana do Brasil:

‘Looking after both people and the planet is central to the mission of the Anglican Church in Brazil. As the Bishop of the Anglican Diocese of the Amazon, I have come to see myself as an Amazonian, despite being born in southern Brazil. This land is rich in culture and natural beauty, yet it faces profound challenges - from deforestation and mining to violence against traditional populations and the invasion of Indigenous territories. I often urge people to look to the Amazon, to recognise the urgent need for justice and to defend both life and creation.

‘The Church has a critical role in responding to these challenges. Through outreach work such as the Popular Educators Course, we train local teachers to carry out projects such as reopening the Alternative Cultural Centre, supporting the Movement of Black Women Artisans (MOCAMBO), and teaching art skills to young people in the neighbourhood through Tinta Preta (Black Ink). In preparation for COP30, the diocese also collaborated with the government, ecumenical partners, and interfaith organisations to ensure Indigenous voices were heard and environmental agreements are honoured.

‘USPG’s support is vital in this work. We rely on prayers, advocacy, and practical support to strengthen the diocese’s initiatives and broaden community engagement. The Anglican Church of Brazil, through our Environmental Justice Network, provides guidance, training, and resources to protect God’s creation, but this work succeeds only when the Church and its partners act together in unity and purpose.’

The USPG Prayer Diary today (Sunday 15 February 2026) invites us to pray as we read and meditate on the Gospel reading, Matthew 17: 1-9.

The Transfiguration … a fresco in the Church of the Four Martyrs in Rethymnon, Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

The Collect of the Day:

Almighty Father,
whose Son was revealed in majesty
before he suffered death upon the cross:
give us grace to perceive his glory,
that we may be strengthened to suffer with him
and be changed into his likeness, from glory to glory;
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.

The Post-Communion Prayer:

Holy God,
we see your glory in the face of Jesus Christ:
may we who are partakers at his table
reflect his life in word and deed,
that all the world may know his power to change and save.
This we ask through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Additional Collect:

Holy God,
you know the disorder of our sinful lives:
set straight our crooked hearts,
and bend our wills to love your goodness and your glory
in Jesus Christ our Lord.

Yesterday’s Reflections

Continued Tomorrow

The Church of the Transfiguration in Piskopianó in the mountains above Hersonissos in Crete was established in 2002, completed in 2008 and dedicated in 2014 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

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

The chapel on the highest peak on Mount Athos, at 2,033 metres, is dedicated to the Transfiguration (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Daily prayer in Christmas 2025-2026: 28, Wednesday 21 January 2026

‘Stretch out your hand.’ He stretched it out, and his hand was restored (Mark 3: 5) … ‘Hands of Healing’, a sculpture by Shane Gilmore at Ennis Cathedral, Co Clare (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Patrick Comerford

The 40-day season of Christmas continues until Candlemas or the Feast of the Presentation (2 February 2026). This week began with the Second Sunday of Epiphany (Epiphany II, 18 January 2026), with readings that continue to focus on the Baptism of Christ by Saint John the Baptist, one of the three great Epiphany themes, alongside the Visit of the Magi and the Wedding at Cana.

Today is the fourth day of the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity, from 18 to 25 January. This year’s theme is ‘One Body, One Spirit’ – from Ephesians 4: 1-13 – which was prepared by the Armenian Apostolic Church, along with the Armenian Catholic and Evangelical Churches. The calendar of the Church of England in Common Worship today remembers Saint Agnes (304 CE), child martyr in Rome.

Later today, I hope to return the choir rehearsals in Saint Mary and Saint Giles Church, Stony Stratford. 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, 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.

Signs and symbols of healing for holding in hands … in the chapel at Milton Keynes University Hospital (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Mark 3: 1-6 (NRSVA):

1 Again he entered the synagogue, and a man was there who had a withered hand. 2 They watched him to see whether he would cure him on the sabbath, so that they might accuse him. 3 And he said to the man who had the withered hand, ‘Come forward.’ 4 Then he said to them, ‘Is it lawful to do good or to do harm on the sabbath, to save life or to kill?’ But they were silent. 5 He looked around at them with anger; he was grieved at their hardness of heart and said to the man, ‘Stretch out your hand.’ He stretched it out, and his hand was restored. 6 The Pharisees went out and immediately conspired with the Herodians against him, how to destroy him.

A doctor’s sign in Hersonissos in Crete … the healing stories in the Gospels involve physical and spiritual healing (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Today’s Reflection:

In the Gospel reading at the Eucharist yesterday (Mark 2: 23-28), we heard a debate about the detailed interpretation and application of faith and practice on the Sabbath. That continues in today’s reading (Mark 3: 1-6), with a discission about healing and the Sabbath. The story of Jesus healing a man with a withered hand on the Sabbath is found in all three synoptic Gospels (see Matthew 12: 9-13, Mark 3: 1-6; Luke 6: 6-11).

In his hymn ‘Songs of thankfulness and praise’, Christopher Wordsworth (1807-1885) links the three traditional Epiphany narratives of the Visit of the Magi (verse 1), the Baptism of Christ in the Jordan and the Wedding at Cana (verse 2), with the miracles of ‘making whole / palsied limbs and fainting soul’:

Manifest in making whole
palsied limbs and fainting soul;
manifest in valiant fight,
quelling all the devil’s might;
manifest in gracious will,
ever bringing good from ill:
anthems be to you addresst,
God in man made manifest.

Several Gospel passages involve controversies over healing and observing the Sabbath, including: casting an ‘unclean spirit’ or demon out of a man (Mark 1: 21-28; Luke 4: 31-37); healing Simon Peter’s mother-in-law (Matthew 8: 14-15; Mark 1: 29-31; Luke 4: 38-39); the controversy over grain (Matthew 12: 1-8; Mark 2: 23-28; Luke 6: 1-5); today’s story of the healing of a man with a withered hand (Matthew 12: 9-13; Mark 3: 1-6; Luke 6: 6-11); the healing of the woman in the synagogue (Luke 13: 10-16); the healing of a paralytic man (John 5: 9-18); the discussion about circumcision on the Sabbath (John 7: 22-23); and the healing of the man born blind (John 9: 1-33).

Once again, as with yesterday’s reading, we are faced today with an example of rhetorical humour on the part of Jesus. Of course the Pharisees were not opposed to doing good on the Sabbath, still less were they likely to object to healing on the Sabbath.

The word Pharisee has become a byword for hypocrisy, and was challenged last year by Giles Fraser in a ‘Beyond Belief’ BBC discussion with Professor Amy-Jill Levine of Vanderbilt University, co-author of The Pharisees, the Catholic theologian James Alison and Dr Stephen de Wijzeoft Manchester University (14 January 2025).

The Pharisees were not like some judgmental evangelicals and Free Presbyterians who wanted to keep the playgrounds, parks, golf clubs, sports venues and pubs in Northern Ireland locked up and closed on Sundays. Works of necessity and works of mercy are allowed, even encouraged on the Sabbath day, even for animals. Indeed, healing is intrinsic to the sabbath.

A work of necessity readily given as an example is when the Jews decide to continue fighting in the Maccabean war even on the Sabbath (see I Maccabees 2). Healing is an act of mercy and so does not violate the Sabbath. The rabbinic tradition teaches clearly, ‘Any danger to life overrides the prohibitions of the Sabbath’ (m. Yoma 8: 6). The question here, then, is whether the man's condition is life-conditioning: could he, and Jesus, not wait until the next day?

A man with a withered hand faced the regular barrier of being perceived as ritually unclean, because he was unable on his own to carry out the ritual obligation of washing both hands on many occasions throughout the day, including before and after eating a meal with bread, before eating dipped fruit or vegetables, before prayer, after sleeping, or after touching certain parts of the body. This involved pouring water over both hands, something a man without the use of one hand could not do on his own.

Today’s reading says Jesus sees this man as he enters the synagogue, not inside the synagogue. The man is not only healed, but he can now wash both hands and enter the synagogue, taking his rightful place in the community of faith, and in the synagogue on the Sabbath. He has been restored both physically and spiritually.

Cardinal Karl Lehmann, who died in 2018, was described as the face and voice of Catholicism in Germany for over 35 years. He was the Bishop of Mainz and former Professor of Dogmatic Theology at the University of Mainz, and in the 1960s he was an assistant to Karl Rahner, the Jesuit theologian, during the Second Vatican Council.

The German theologian Professor Johanna Rahner of Tübingen University told the German weekly Die Zeit that Cardinal Karl Lehmann ‘interpreted the Church’s teaching as a seelsorger (a ‘carer of souls’ – the German word for priest) and not in the narrow, doctrinal, sense.’

I like the idea of seeing the priest or the pastor as the physician or doctor of souls. The German theological journal, Seelsorger describes itself as a ‘Journal for the Contemporary Cure of Souls,’ and the topics on pastoral care it discusses range from sexuality to post-modernity, the conscience to the use of story, vice, virtue, and baptism and the dangers and blessings of a long-term pastorate.

The soul is the deepest centre of the psyche. Problems at the level of the soul radiate out to all levels of the psyche and even the body.

The priest, the soul doctor, traces the problem to its deepest point. A hurting person should be addressed at all of those levels, but it is the soul doctor who addresses the very deepest level.

Among the Patristic writers, Saint John Chrysostom says that every priest is, as it were, the father of the whole world, and therefore should have care of all the souls to whose salvation he can co-operate by his labours. Besides, priests are appointed by God as physicians to cure every soul that is infirm. Origen has called priests ‘physicians of souls,’ while Saint Jerome calls us ‘spiritual physicians.’ Later, Saint Bonaventure asks: ‘If the physician flees from the sick, who will cure them?’

Canon 21 of the Fourth Lateran Council in 1215 drew an analogy between the physicians of the body and the physicians of the soul. This analogy between medical or physical care and spiritual or pastoral care was enthusiastically developed in mediaeval sermons and penitential literature, opening the door to many further comparisons.

The English word curate refers to a person who is charged with the care or cure (cura) of souls in a parish. In this sense, ‘curate’ correctly means a parish priest. In France, the cure is the principal priest in a parish, as is the Italian curato and the Spanish cura. But in English-speaking places, the term curate is commonly used to describe priests who are assistants to the parish priest.

However, the word curate in the 1662 Book of Common Prayer means the incumbent of a benefice, who is licensed by the bishop to the ‘cure of souls.’ The shared cure of souls is made clear by the traditional wording of the bishop’s deed of institution to a new incumbent, ‘habere curam animarum, et accipe curam tuam et meam, receive the cure of souls which is both mine and thine.’

In other words, when a parish priest begins his or her new ministry, the bishop is sharing the care of the parish – described traditionally as ‘the cure of souls’ – with the priest, but the bishop does not give it away. The 43 Canons of the Church of Ireland, listed in Chapter IX of the Constitution, refers specifically to cures rather than parishes.

The soul is just as complicated as the body, just as rich and strange and puzzling. And it needs just as much attention. That does not mean that any priest can necessarily address these soul problems. But the true soul doctor is the depth psychologist.

When we think about salvation, it is worth recalling that the English word ‘salve’ is derived from the Latin salvus, which means healing. The priest, as an alter Christus is seen as one who mends broken hearts, heals hurting souls, and applies God’s soothing balm on pained and wounded lives.

The priest truly is the ‘doctor of souls.’ Perhaps theology is the technical language of soul doctoring. But the prescription is the word and the medicine is the Eucharist, regular confession and daily prayer. The proper exercise is found in prayer, regular good deeds and acts of kindness.

The popular German word for priest means ‘carer of souls’ (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Today’s Prayers (Wednesday 21 January 2026):

The theme this week (18-24 January 2026) in Pray with the World Church, the prayer diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), is ‘Freedom Theologies’ (pp 20-21). This theme was introduced on Sunday with Reflections from Dr Thandi Gamedze, poet, theologian, and senior researcher at the Desmond Tutu Centre for Religion and Social Justice.

The USPG Prayer Diary today (Wednesday 21 January 2026) invites us to pray:

Father, we give thanks for Dr Thandi Gamedze and the creative ways her research brings untold stories to life. Bless her, we pray.

The Collect:

Eternal God, shepherd of your sheep,
whose child Agnes was strengthened to bear witness
in her living and her dying
to the true love of her redeemer:
grant us the power to understand, with all your saints,
what is the breadth and length and height and depth
and to know the love that surpasses knowledge,
even 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:

Eternal God,
who gave us this holy meal
in which we have celebrated the glory of the cross
and the victory of your martyr Agnes:
by our communion with Christ
in his saving death and resurrection,
give us with all your saints the courage to conquer evil
and so to share the fruit of the tree of life;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Yesterday’s Reflections

Continued Tomorrow

Saint John Chrysostom says priests are appointed by God as physicians to cure every soul that is infirm (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

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

The Greeks have a word for it: 59, Ζέφυρος (Zéphyros), the West Wind

Zefyros is an award-winning taverna on the west side of the old Venetian harbour in Rethymnon in Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Patrick Comerford

Kostas is one of the many tavernas in Piskopianó and Koutouloufári that I came to know and enjoy over three decades of visiting these paired mountainside villages above Hersonissos in Crete.

It stands on the west side of the village square in the resort village of Piskopianó, facing the large, impressive new church and looking down on Ευρώπης (Europis), the street to Koutouloufári, 1 km away on foot. For many years, one of the managers in Kostas would stand at a balcony window each evening, waving to visitors below with his warm greeting, ‘Hello, my friend!’ At the same time, he seemed to play the hits of Demis Roussos from the 1970s and 1980s on a loop, especially ‘Forever and Ever’ and ‘My Friend The Wind’ … for ever and ever.

People who live in these hillside villages know when the wind is their friend in spring and summer. Boreas (Βορέας) is the cold north wind that brings storms, and winter; Eurus (Εὖρος),the east wind, features rarely in ancient Greek literature and art; Notus (Νότος), the south wind, brings the storms of late summer and early autumn, along with rain and mist. But I have also endured the Σορόκος (sorokos) or Σοροκάδα (sorokada), the strong southern wind that blows in from the Sahara, bringing high temperatures, a fearsome red-orange dust, and with it stormy weather and heavy rains that can cause flooding.

On the other hand, Ζέφυρος (Zephyros or Zefyros), the west wind, is truly a friendly wind in Crete, bringing cool breezes to the mountainside villages like Piskopianó and Koutouloufári and to harbour-front restaurants and tavernas in Iraklion, Rethymnon and Chania. It is the most gentle and the mildest of the winds, associated with flowers and springtime, and brings light spring and early summer breezes. So, understandably, the west wind gives its name to Ζέφυρος (Zefyros), an award-winning taverna at the old Venetian harbour in Rethymnon.

‘My Friend The Wind’ was a favourite – for ever and ever, seemingly – from the window of Kostas in Piskopianó (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

The ancient Greek noun ζέφυρος refers to the wind that blows from the west. His name is found in Mycenaean Greek (Linear B). Traditionally, Zephyros has been linked to the word ζόφος (zóphos) meaning ‘darkness’ or ‘west’. For example, the Greek colony of Epizephyrian Locris (Λοκροὶ Ἐπιζεφύριοι) in southern Italy was west of Greece.

In Greek mythology, Zephyros (Ζέφυρος) was one of several wind gods or the Anemoi. He and Boreas are the two are the most prominent wind gods. Zephyros was the son of Eos, the goddess of the dawn, and Astraeus, and was known for his unrequited love for the Spartan prince Hyacinthus.

Zephyrus falls in love with Hyacinthus, who rejects him and instead becomes the lover of Apollo. One day when Hyacinthus and Apollo are discus throwing, Zephyrus deflects Apollo’s discus, redirecting it onto Hyacinthus's head and fatally wounding him. Hyacinthus’s blood then becomes a new flower, the hyacinth.

Ovid calls Zephyrus, Boreas, Eurus and Notus the ‘the Astraean brothers’ in reference to their paternity. However, in Athens in the 5th century BCE, Aeschylus in his play Agamemnon says Zephyrus is the son of the goddess Gaia, the mother earth, but does not name his father.

In the Odyssey, Zephyrus and his brothers live on the island of Aeolia, where Zeus entrusted Aeolus with keeping the winds. When Odysseus and his crew arrive, Aeolus hosts them for a month. As they leave, Aeolus gives Odysseus a bag holding all the winds, apart from Zephyrus, who is let free to blow Odysseus’s ship gently back to Ithaca. Odysseus’s crew foolishly open the bag, thinking it contains treasure, and set free all the other winds, blowing the ships back to Aeolia. Many years later, when Odysseus leaves Calypso, Poseidon unleashes all four winds in rage to drown Odysseus in the sea.

Like the other wind gods, Zephyrus is depicted in ancient Greek art with wings, and so at times it is hard to tell him from Eros. In ancient vases, he is most commonly pursuing the young Hyacinthus or holding him in his arms.

The frieze on the Tower of the Winds in Athens includes a depiction of Zephyrus as a beardless youth carrying a cloak full of flowers (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

The frieze on the Tower of the Winds, the clocktower or horologion in the Roman agora in Athens, depicts Zephyrus alongside seven other wind gods above the sundials, with Zephyrus as a beardless youth carrying a cloak full of flowers. On the eastern frieze of the Pergamon Altar, now in Berlin, Zephyrus and the other three wind gods are in the shape of horses who pull Hera’s chariot.

Zephyrus’s Roman equivalent was Favonius (the ‘favouring’), who held dominion over plants and flowers. Favonius is connected with the adjective favonian, pertaining to the west wind. However, Zephyrus was also honoured used by Romans. Some later authors describe Favonius as having wings in his head. The Roman poet Horace writes:

quid fles, Asterie, quem tibi candidi
primo restituent vere Favonii?

Why do you weep, Asterie, for the man whom the bright west winds
will restore to you at the beginning of spring?

Geoffrey Chaucer wrote of the ‘swete breth’ of Zephyrus. A soft, gentle breeze may be referred to as a zephyr, as in William Shakespeare’s Cymbeline Act 4 Scene 2):

They are as gentle
As zephyrs blowing below the violet,
Not wagging his sweet head.

The west wind is a gentle breeze and sweet breathe on a spring or summer evening in Crete, whether your eating out in one of the restaurants in Piskopianó and Koutouloufári looking out across Hersonissos towards the sea or at Zefyros in Rethymnon, looking out across the old Venetian harbour. After these harsh winter days in England, I am already looking forward to these experiences later this year – perhaps even listening once again to Demis Roussos (1946-2015), whose paternal grandparents were from Crete.

Kostas in Piskopianó looks out across the Mediterranean … a place to enjoy a cool west breeze in spring and summer (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

My friend the wind will come from the hills
When dawn will rise, he'll wake me again
My friend the wind will tell me a secret
He shares with me, he shares with me

My friend the wind will come from the north
With words of love, she whispered for me
My friend the wind will say she loves me
And me alone, and me alone

I’ll hear her voice and the words
That he brings from Helenimou
Sweet as a kiss are the songs of Aghapimou
Soft as the dew is the touch of Manoulamou
Oh oh oh

We’ll share a dream where I'm never away from Helenimou
Blue are the days like the eyes of Aghapimou
Far from the world will I live with Manoulamou
Oh oh oh

My friend the wind go back to the hills
And tell my love a day will soon come
Oh friendly wind you tell a secret
You know so well, oh you know so well

I’ll hear her voice and the words
That he brings from Helenimou
Sweet as a kiss are the songs of Aghapimou
Soft as the dew is the touch of Manoulamou
Oh oh oh

La la la, Helenimou
La la la, Aghapimou
La la la, Manoulamou



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

Zefyros overlooks the Venetian harbour in Rethymnon … from the west side of the harbour (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)