COMERFORD WAY: Patrick Comerford’s online journal on Anglicanism, theology, spirituality, history, architecture, travel, poetry, beach walks ... and more
Tsoureki, a sweet Greek bread traditionally served at Easter, on a table in Panormos, near Rethymnon, on Easter Day (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Patrick Comerford
Our Easter celebrations continue in the Church Calendar, and this week began with the Second Sunday of Easter (Easter II). Easter is a 50-day season that continues until the Day of Pentecost.
The Church calendar today remembers Saint Athanasius (373), Bishop of Alexandria and Teacher of the Faith (2 May). 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.
A variety of bread gathered in a basket (see John 6: 1-15) in Panormos, near Rethymnon in Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
John 6: 1-15 (NRSVA):
1 After this Jesus went to the other side of the Sea of Galilee, also called the Sea of Tiberias. 2 A large crowd kept following him, because they saw the signs that he was doing for the sick. 3 Jesus went up the mountain and sat down there with his disciples. 4 Now the Passover, the festival of the Jews, was near. 5 When he looked up and saw a large crowd coming towards him, Jesus said to Philip, ‘Where are we to buy bread for these people to eat?’ 6 He said this to test him, for he himself knew what he was going to do. 7 Philip answered him, ‘Six months’ wages[b] would not buy enough bread for each of them to get a little.’ 8 One of his disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother, said to him, 9 ‘There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish. But what are they among so many people?’ 10 Jesus said, ‘Make the people sit down.’ Now there was a great deal of grass in the place; so they sat down, about five thousand in all. 11 Then Jesus took the loaves, and when he had given thanks, he distributed them to those who were seated; so also the fish, as much as they wanted. 12 When they were satisfied, he told his disciples, ‘Gather up the fragments left over, so that nothing may be lost.’ 13 So they gathered them up, and from the fragments of the five barley loaves, left by those who had eaten, they filled twelve baskets. 14 When the people saw the sign that he had done, they began to say, ‘This is indeed the prophet who is to come into the world.’
15 When Jesus realized that they were about to come and take him by force to make him king, he withdrew again to the mountain by himself.
Tsoureki, a sweet Greek bread traditionally served at Easter, on a table in Rethymnon on Easter Day (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Today’s Reflections:
The feeding of the 5,000 is the only miracle – apart from the Resurrection – that is recorded in all four Gospels (see also Matthew 14: 13-21; Mark 6: 32-44; Luke 9: 10-17). The feeding of 4,000 is told by both Mark (Mark 8: 1-9) and Matthew (Matthew 15: 32-38), but by neither Luke nor John.
The story of the multiplication of the loaves and fish and the feeding of the 5,000 is told in a very similar way in all four Gospels, with only minor variations on the place of the miracle or the circumstances surrounding it.
Saint John alone tells us that the feeding and the teaching took place as the Feast of the Passover was drawing near, so both the action and the discourse are to be understood with those particular perspectives.
Some time has passed since the healing of the man by the pool in Jerusalem, the better part of a year perhaps, and we are now back in Galilee in the following spring for the second Passover narrative (see verse 4) in Saint John’s Gospel.
Commentators point to the shift from the Festival of the Booths in the previous chapter and to the significance of the second Passover. But sometimes I wonder are we in danger of missing one other point, no matter how insignificant it may seem at first reading?
There is a story about how the Puritans in New England worked themselves to death in the fields without getting much in return for their back-breaking efforts. So much so that they were in danger of starving to death until the wiser inhabitants of the land taught them a few home truths about living in harmony with the rhythms of the earth. There are times to plant. There are times to rest. There are times to work the soil. And there are times to let the soil rest.
Perhaps the gap between Chapter 5 and Chapter 6 is part of the Hidden Years of Jesus … when he was an adult, when he was in harmony with the rhythms of the earth and the rhythms of life, and when he was preparing for the harvest that is gathered in in Chapter 6.
The story of the multiplication of the loaves as told in John 6 has a number of key details that are intended to remind the reader of the Eucharist, and the Eucharistic narrative resumes in verses 51-58. But the story is also full of Messianic hope and harvesting, and Eucharistic promise, for it recalls the story of King David. When David first fled from King Saul, he fed his small group of followers, those who acknowledged him as the rightful king, with the priest’s bread, asking the priest: ‘Give me five loaves of bread, or whatever is here’ (I Samuel 21: 3).
The ‘other side’ in verse 1 refers to the eastern shore of the Sea of Galilee. It was named Tiberias after the city founded ca 20-26 CE by Herod Antipas and named after Tiberias Caesar. In this way, John places the last work done among the Galilean disciples in Gentile territory.
Here too the Galileans are following Jesus because of signs and miracles, and not because of faith (verse 2). Once again, we have the Johannine question about the link between seeing and believing, which we encountered dramatically in the Easter story of Thomas in last Sunday’s Gospel reading (John 20: 19-31).
Christ is seated on the top of the mountain (verse 3). What does this remind us of? The top of Mount Sinai? The mountain of the Transfiguration? The hill of Calvary outside Jerusalem?
This is the time approaching the second Passover (verse 4), so there is a build-up in the number of Passovers being recounted, bringing us towards an expectation of fulfilment at Passover.
Christ lifts up his eyes (verse 5). When the disciples rejoined Christ at the well in Sychar while he was talking with the Samaritan woman, he told them to ‘lift up their eyes’ (John 4: 35, translated in the NRSV as ‘look around you’) and to see the ‘harvest’ of the seed he had been sowing.
The introduction of Philip (verse 5) and Andrew (verse 8) as characters in the scene is typical of John’s style. They represent the disciples. Just as at Jacob’s Well, they have failed to buy or produce enough bread.
Philip’s faith is being tested (verse 6), and, by implication, the faith of all the disciples. Where the NRSV says ‘six months’ wages’ (verse 7), the original Greek says 200 denarii. A denarius was a day’s wage for an unskilled labourer.
John alone mentions the young boy or servant, and the barley loaves (verse 9). Barley loaves were the food of poor people and for animals, but strikingly, the barley loaves in this story remind us of the time when Elisha who fed 100 men with 20 loaves of bread (II Kings 4: 42-44), saying: ‘For thus says the Lord, “They shall eat and have some left”.’ The feeding of the multitude therefore may be seen as a demonstrative prelude to Jesus’ words, ‘I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in will never be thirsty’ (John 6: 35).
The feeding with the fish is a prelude to, looks forward to another meal by the shores of Lake Tiberias. We read next Sunday about that breakfast with the disciples when Jesus feeds them with bread and fish (John 21: 1-19). The fish is an early Christian symbol of faith in the Risen Christ: Ichthus (ἰχθύς, capitalised as ΙΧΘΥC) is the Greek word for fish, and can be read as an acrostic, a word formed from the first letters of several words, spelling out Ἰησοῦς Χριστός, Θεοῦ Υἱός, Σωτήρ (Iēsous Christos Theou Huios, Sōtēr, Jesus Christ, Son of God, Saviour).
Christ asks the disciples to make the people sit down – well, not so much to sit down as to recline (verse 10). They are asked to recline on the grass as they would at a banquet or a feast – just as he did with the disciples at the Last Supper.
Notice the Eucharistic actions in verse 11: Dom Gregory Dix identified the four-fold movement in the Eucharist as taking, blessing (giving thanks), breaking and giving.
John alone has Christ commanding the disciples to gather up the fragments lest they perish (verse 12). Gathering is an act of reverential economy towards the gifts of God. But we return later to the Eucharistic imagery here too. Meanwhile, the gathering also anticipates the gathering that takes place in connection with the work of the Son as he receives from the Father those who are given to him, ‘that I should lose nothing of all that he has given me …’ (John 6: 39; see also John 17: 12).
There are twelve baskets – one for each tribe of Israel and one for each of the twelve disciples (verse 13). Mark alone mentions fragments of fish being picked up too.
In Saint Mark’s Gospel, Christ forces his disciples to leave immediately (see Mark 6: 45). But only in Saint John’s Gospel (verse 15) are we given the reason for this: the people want to make Christ their earthly king (compare this with the reference to the test in verse 6). When they want to make him their king, they want to make him a political messiah, opposing Rome. But Jesus would not accept this way of being king or of being messiah (see John 18: 36).
In Saint John’s Gospel, the account of the Feeding of the Multitude is followed with the conversation Jesus has with the crowds who follow him to Capernaum. The main motif in the passage (verses 26-59) centres on Jesus saying: ‘I am that bread of life’ (verse 48). In this way, Jesus links the Feeding of the Multitude with the feeding of the people in the wilderness with manna and with the heavenly banquet and the coming of the kingdom (see John 6: 25-40).
In the Fourth Gospel, the preceding food miracle is at the Wedding in Cana, where Jesus turns the water into wine. Now we have a miracle with bread. The Eucharistic connection of bread and wine is obvious even to the first-time reader.
The story of the multiplication of the loaves as told here has a number of key details that intended to remind the reader of the Eucharist, and the Eucharistic narrative resumes in verses 51-58.
• In verse 10, the crowd is asked to recline on the grass, as if they were at a banquet, a Passover meal or a wedding feast, just as Christ and the 12 ate at the Last Supper.
• Once again, notice the Eucharistic actions in verse 11. Dom Gregory Dix identified the four-fold movement in the Eucharist as taking, blessing (giving thanks), breaking and giving.
• John alone uses εὐχαριστήσας (eucharistisas, verse 11), from the verb εὐχαριστέω (eucharisteo), ‘to give thanks,’ from which we derive the word Eucharist for the liturgy.
• John alone depicts Christ himself distributing the bread as he will do again at the Last Supper.
• John alone has Christ commanding the disciples to gather up the fragments lest they perish. The Greek word συνάγω (synago, to gather up) gives us the word συναγωγή (synagogue) for the assembly of faith, and the word σύναξις (synaxis) for the gathering or first part of the Liturgy. The Greek word for ‘fragments,’ κλάσμα (klasma), appears also in early Christian literature as the liturgical word for the host or the bread at the Eucharist.
Jesus puts no questions of belief to either the disciples or the crowd when he feeds them on the mountainside. They did not believe in the Resurrection – it had yet to happen. But Jesus feeds them, and feeds them indiscriminately. The disciples wanted to send them away, but Jesus wants to count them in. Christ invites more people to the banquet than we can fit into our churches.
Christ is risen! The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia!
Bread in a basket (see John 6: 1-15) in a restaurant in the Latin Quarter in Paris (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)
Today’s Prayers (Friday 2 May 2025):
‘Become Like Children’ provides the theme this week in ‘Pray With the World Church’, the Prayer Diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel). This theme was introduced on Sunday with a Programme Update by Rachel Weller, Communications Officer, USPG.
The USPG Prayer Diary today (Friday 2 May 2025) invites us to pray:
Father, bless USPG’s church partners who strive to protect children from harm such as the Church of North India’s antihuman trafficking work and mission hospitals across central and Eastern Africa.
The Collect:
Ever–living God,
whose servant Athanasius testified
to the mystery of the Word made flesh for our salvation:
help us, with all your saints,
to contend for the truth
and to grow into the likeness of your Son,
Jesus Christ our Lord,
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.
The Post Communion Prayer:
God of truth,
whose Wisdom set her table
and invited us to eat the bread and drink the wine
of the kingdom:
help us to lay aside all foolishness
and to live and walk in the way of insight,
that we may come with Athanasius to the eternal feast of heaven;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.
‘They love to have the place of honour at banquets’ (Matthew 23: 6) … preparing to dine on the beach at Platanias in Rethymnon, Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Patrick Comerford
Lent began almost two weeks ago on Ash Wednesday (5 March 2025), and this week began with the Second Sunday in Lent (Lent II), followed by Saint Patrick’s Day (17 March 2025).
Today, the Calendar of the Church remembers Saint Cyril (386), Bishop of Jerusalem and Teacher of the Faith. 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.
‘They love to have the place of honour at banquets’ (Matthew 23: 6) … in Tai Tai Restaurant in Kuching, Sarawak (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)
Matthew 23: 1-12 (NRSVA):
23 Then Jesus said to the crowds and to his disciples, 2 ‘The scribes and the Pharisees sit on Moses’ seat; 3 therefore, do whatever they teach you and follow it; but do not do as they do, for they do not practise what they teach. 4 They tie up heavy burdens, hard to bear, and lay them on the shoulders of others; but they themselves are unwilling to lift a finger to move them. 5 They do all their deeds to be seen by others; for they make their phylacteries broad and their fringes long. 6 They love to have the place of honour at banquets and the best seats in the synagogues, 7 and to be greeted with respect in the market-places, and to have people call them rabbi. 8 But you are not to be called rabbi, for you have one teacher, and you are all students. 9 And call no one your father on earth, for you have one Father – the one in heaven. 10 Nor are you to be called instructors, for you have one instructor, the Messiah. 11 The greatest among you will be your servant. 12 All who exalt themselves will be humbled, and all who humble themselves will be exalted.’
‘They love to have the place of honour at banquets’ (Matthew 23: 6) … in Le Procope in Paris, one of the oldest cafés in the world (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)
Today’s Reflection:
In the Gospel reading in the lectionary at the Eucharist today (Matthew 23: 1-12), we are in the Temple with Christ in Holy Week, the week leading up to his Passion, Death and Resurrection. There in the Temple, Christ has silenced his critics among the Sadducees and the Pharisees, showing their lack of understanding of the core messages of the Prophets and the Law in the Bible.
In today’s Gospel reading, Christ turns to speak ‘to the crowds and to his disciples’ about the scribes and the Pharisees, and their attitude to and teaching of the Law and the Bible.
Christ tells the people in the Temple that the Pharisees have authority to teach the Law, and he concedes that they are in an unbroken chain that goes back to Moses, for they ‘sit on Moses’ seat’ (verse 2).
But while honouring their teachings, the people should be wary of their practices. In their interpretation of the Law, they impose heavy burdens on others, yet do not follow the Law themselves.
Externally, they appear pious. They wear teffelin or phylacteries, small, black, leather boxes, on their left arms and foreheads with four Biblical passages as a ‘sign’ and ‘remembrance’ that God liberated their ancestors from slavery in Egypt (see Exodus 13: 1-10; Exodus 13: 11-16; Deuteronomy 6: 4-9; and Deuteronomy 11: 13-21). They also have lengthy fringes or tassels on their prayer shawls (tallitot, singular talit), as visible reminders of the 613 commandments in the Law (see Numbers 15: 38, Deuteronomy 22: 12).
Christ gives four examples of vanity (verse 6-7): they love places of honour at banquets, the best seats in the synagogues, being greeted with respect publicly, and being called ‘Rabbi,’ which means master and later becomes a title for the leaders in the synagogues.
We are warned about the dangers built into loving honorific titles, such as ‘teacher,’ ‘father’ and instructor (see verses 8-10) – perhaps for me that means canon and professor – because, of course, we are all students, we are all brothers and sisters, we are all disciples and children of God.
Yet I too am a father and have been a teacher and a tutor. Is Christ warning against the position; or against seeking honours that have not been earned?
It is a truism that parents must earn the respect of their children, not seek or demand it. Most parents have, at one time or another, said to their children: ‘Do what I tell you, not what I do.’ Needless to say, children never listen to parents when we say something so silly.
All parents know, on the other hand, that actions speak louder than words.
Perhaps this reading reflects later tensions between the Jewish synagogue and the new Christian community. But, in Christ’s own days, people expected a Pharisee to be a careful observer of the Law. Unlike the Temple priests and village elders, the Pharisees did not have a high social status.
Before the destruction of the Temple in 70 CE, the Pharisees were a relatively modest group of people without political power and they tried to live out Jewish tradition and the Torah seriously and conscientiously in their daily lives. The Pharisees saw the Law as applying not only to every aspect of public life, but to every aspect of private, domestic, daily life too.
There is another well-worn statement: ‘It’s not where you start out but where you end up.’ The Pharisees started out with good intentions, but some of them ended by seeking to be great, seeking to be exalted (verses 11-12). They started out being concerned for holiness, but some ended at exclusion. They started out seeking to recognise God in all aspects of life, but some of them ended by seeking recognition at banquets and in the synagogue (verses 6-7).
Christ calls us to live in such a way that we can say to the world: ‘Do as we say and do as we do.’
The problem here may not so much be a conflict between words and actions, but the need to make the connection between words and actions. Words must mean what they point to, and the actions must be capable of being described in words.
Most of us, as children, learned by watching how adults behave, we learn as members of the human community. As a child, when I needed to learn how to use a fork, I did not need a lecture on the hygienic and sanitary contributions that forks have made to the benefit of European lifestyles since the introduction of the fork through Byzantium and Venice to mediaeval Europe; I did not need an engineering lecture on the practicalities and difficulties of balancing the prongs and the handle; I would have been too young to read a delightful chapter by Judith Herrin in one of her books on how the fork-using Byzantines were much more sophisticated than their western allies or rivals who ate with their hands (Judith Herrin, Byzantium – the Surprising Life of a Mediaeval Empire, London: Allen Lane, 2007, Chapter 19).
The same principle applies to everything else, as is pointed out by Andrew Davison, now Regius Professor of Divinity at the University of Oxford. In Imaginative Apologetics (London: SCM Press, 2011), he points out how the same principle applies to how we learn about everything else in life – cups, books, bicycles and so on. He might have added love – the love of God and the love of one another.
Over the years, I have often visited the National Botanic Gardens in Glasnevin, Dublin. There, in the Great Palm House, are the steps on which the great German philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein regularly sat in contemplation and thought while he was living in Dublin in the late 1940s.
Even if we find Wittgenstein difficult to read, we can find useful insights in his writings.
Wittgenstein teaches us that thinking and language must be inter-connected. ‘Words have meaning only in the stream of life,’ he says. Thinking requires language, language is a communal experience, and, as Davison points out, we learn language as members of a human community and through induction into common human practices.
We can talk about prayer, forgiveness, and most of all about love itself, to others. But if it only remains talk and has no application, then the words have no meaning.
In the verses before this reading (Matthew 22: 34-46), Christ tells the lawyer sent by the Pharisees and the Sadducees that the greatest commandments are to ‘love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind’ and to ‘love your neighbour as yourself.’ And, he adds: ‘On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.’
If the Pharisees, the Sadducees and the young lawyer were teaching and acting in conformity with these laws, if their words and actions were inter-connected, then there would have been an unassailable ring of authenticity to their teaching.
We may say we believe in the two great commandments, but we only show we believe in them with credibility when we live them out in our lives. There must be no gap that separates what we teach and how we live out what we teach in our lives.
Ludwig Wittgenstein’s steps in the Great Palm House in the National Botanic Gardens, Glasnevin, Dublin (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Today’s Prayers (Tuesday 18 March 2025):
The theme this week in ‘Pray With the World Church’, the Prayer Diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), is ‘Truth: The Path to Reconciliation’. This theme was introduced on Sunday with a programme update by Rachel Weller, Communications Officer, USPG.
The USPG Prayer Diary today (Tuesday 18 March 2025) invites us to pray:
Gracious Creator, remind us that each of us has the power to make a difference in the world. Let our small actions create ripples of positive change, echoing the legacy of love and justice left by Archbishop Desmond Tutu.
The Collect:
Almighty God,
you show to those who are in error the light of your truth,
that they may return to the way of righteousness:
grant to all those who are admitted
into the fellowship of Christ’s religion,
that they may reject those things
that are contrary to their profession,
and follow all such things as are agreeable to the same;
through our Lord Jesus Christ,
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.
The Post Communion Prayer:
Almighty God,
you see that we have no power of ourselves to help ourselves:
keep us both outwardly in our bodies,
and inwardly in our souls;
that we may be defended from all aersities
which may happen to the body,
and from all evil thoughts which may assault and hurt the soul;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Additional Collect:
Almighty God,
by the prayer and discipline of Lent
may we enter into the mystery of Christ’s sufferings,
and by following in his Way
come to share in his glory;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.
The table remains bare if our words and our actions are not inter-connected … the Long Gallery or Dining Hall in the Moat House, the former Comberford family home on Lichfield Street, Tamworth (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
A butterfly in Platanias, east of Rethymnon in Crete … the most beloved of natural metamorphoses may be the transformation of caterpillars into butterflies (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Patrick Comerford
While we were staying on the Left Bank in Paris last year, my eye was caught by Les Metamorphoses, a shuttered and closed jewellery shop on Rue du Petit Pont, around the corner from the Shakespeare bookshop, forever associated with James Joyce, and across the river from Notre Dame.
Perhaps this shuttered, closed and forgotten shop, covered in spray paint and graffiti, took its name from the French translation of the Metamorphoses, a Latin narrative poem from 8 CE by Ovid that is considered his magnum opus.
The trend-setting name sign was designed to be read in its mirror-like, reversed composition. Now it is part of a grey and deserted building, like part of the landscape of a wasteland. Perhaps, after all, it was named after a French translation of Franz Kafka’s novella, The Metamorphosis, first published in German as Die Verwandlung in 1915.
Many events last year marked the 100th anniversary of the death of Franz Kafka on 3 June 1924. Few 20th century writers – apart from, perhaps, James Joyce and TS Eliot – receive as much attention as Kafka. Although he did not live to see his 41st birthday and worked for much of his life as an insurance clerk, Kafka is a giant on the stage of world literature.
The Metamorphosis, one of Kafka’s best-known works, tells of a travelling salesman, Gregor Samsa, who lives ‘in the quiet but completely urban Charlotte Street.’ He could have believed that from his window he was peering out at a featureless wasteland, in which ‘the gray heaven and the gray earth had merged and were indistinguishable.’
One hundred years after the death of Franz Kafka, the University of Oxford celebrated his life and work, with a series of events. The #OxfordKafka24 programme included an exhibition at the Bodleian’s Weston Library, ‘Kafka: Making of Icon’, a public reading of The Metamorphosis in the Sheldonian Theatre, and a new limited-edition imprint of The Metamorphosis from Oxford University Press that was given to every Oxford student and distributed to schools and libraries – I was generously given a copy in Pusey House.
Butterflies on a display at the railway station in Tamworth (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Metamorphosis is a biological process by which an animal physically develops, including birth transformation or hatching, involving a conspicuous and relatively abrupt change in the animal’s body structure through cell growth and differentiation. Some insects, jellyfish, fish, amphibians, mollusks, crustaceans, cnidarians, echinoderms and tunicates undergo metamorphosis, which is often accompanied by a change of nutrition source or behaviour.
Natural substances may also metamorphose, or undergo metamorphosis. Heat and pressure over thousands of years may eventually turn tiny organisms into petroleum, and coal into diamonds. The most beloved of natural metamorphoses are probably the transformation of caterpillars into butterflies and of tadpoles into frogs.
The word metamorphosis derives from the Ancient Greek μεταμόρφωσις (metamorphosis, ‘transformation, transforming’), from μετα- (meta-, ‘after’) and μορφή (morphe, ‘form’).
In Middle English, Methamorphoseos is the title of Ovid’s poem or its contents, borrowed from the Latin Metamorphōsēs, as the title of Ovid’s poem, literally, ‘transformations’ (Late Latin metamorphosis ‘transfiguration, change into another form’). This, in turn, was borrowed from the Greek metamórphōsis (from 1st century CE), ‘transformation’, from metamorphō-, a variant stem of metamorphóō, metamorphoûn, ‘to transform’.
Many ancient myths end in a metamorphosis. As Apollo is chasing the nymph Daphne, she calls on her river-god father for help and he turns her into a laurel tree to save her. Out of anger and jealousy, the goddess Athena turns the marvellous weaver Arachne into a spider that will spin only beautiful webs.
The Transfiguration or Metamorphosis depicted in the Church of the Transfiguration in Piskopianó, in the hills above Hersonissos in Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024; click on image for full-screen viewing)
In Greek theology, the Transfiguration of Christ is known as the Metamorphosis (Μεταμόρφωσις). In New Testament usage, metamorphoûsthai means to be transfigured. The Transfiguration of Christ is recounted in the Synoptic Gospels (see Matthew 17: 1-8; Mark 9: 2-13; Luke 9: 28-36) and is also referred to in II Peter 1: 16-18. Although Luke and II Peter do not use the word metamorphosis, the form of the word found in Matthew and Mark is μετεμορφώθη.
The other two uses of the Greek verb μεταμορφόω (metamorphoo) are both in the Pauline letters. In II Corinthians 3: 7-18, Saint Paul uses the word μεταμορφούμεθα as he discusses the glory of God’s revelation on Mount Sinai, which made Moses’ face shine. In Romans 12: 2, Paul challenges his readers: ‘Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed [μεταμορφοῦσθε] by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God – what is good and acceptable and perfect.’
Charles Wesley takes up Saint Paul’s language of transfiguration in II Corinthians in his hymn ‘Love Divine, All Loves Excelling’:
Finish, then, thy new creation;
Pure and spotless let us be;
Let us see thy great salvation
Perfectly restored in thee;
Changed from glory into glory
Till in Heav’n we take our place,
Till we cast our crowns before thee,
Lost in wonder, love, and praise!
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, 2024)
The thematic prayer for Transfiguration Sunday (the Sunday before Lent, 2 March 2025) in the Revised Common Lectionary Prayers invites us to pray for a transfiguration of our own:
Holy God, mighty and immortal,
you are beyond our knowing,
yet we see your glory in the face of Jesus Christ,
whose compassion illumines the world.
Transform us into the likeness of the love of Christ,
who renewed our humanity so that we may share in his divinity,
through the same Jesus Christ, our Lord,
who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Les Metamorphoses in Paris … locked up and abandoned like Gregor Samsa? (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
The sun sets on 2024 … sunset at the harbour in Rethymnon in Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)
Patrick Comerford
As the sun sets on 2024, and as I look forward to the New Year and the promises of 2025, I find it helpful this evening to look back on the past year, with all its blessings, and at both the new and the missed opportunities.
The year began on a very low note, with two of us feeling sorry for ourselves and isolated with another round of Covid-19, with no opportunity and no inclination to ring in the New Year. Of course, we recovered, and it is good to reflect on what an interesting year this has been.
As well as visiting places throughout Ireland, north and south, and England, my travels this year brought me to France, Greece, the Netherlands, Singapore and Kuching in East Malaysia.
Presenting a church bell to Father Jeffry Renos Nawie, Saint Matthias Chapel and the people of Sinar Baru
We spent almost five weeks in Kuching (15 October to 18 November), staying for the first week in the Marian, a boutique hotel that had once been the diocesan guesthouse, and before that a school boarding house for a girls’ school and the home of the Ong family.
For the rest of our visit, we stayed for four weeks in Charlotte’s flat in Chinatown, in the heart of the old town of Kuching.
In the past, I have had many working visits to Japan, Korea, China and Hong Kong in East Asia, but this was my first time to visit south-east Asia.
We crossed the river on sampans at night, took a river cruise at sunset, ate out with family members and friends, went swimming in the pool at the Marian, and learned about the work in Kuching of the Irish architect Denis Santry from Cork. We also visited many cathedrals, churches, mosques, a Sikh temple and Chinese or Taoist and Buddhist temples, a theological college and graveyards. I even went in search of the Jewish community of Kuching that never existed.
Father Jeffry Renos Nawie of Saint Augustine’s Church, Mambong, brought us on whistle-stop tours of up to 20 churches in the Diocese of Kuching, including the seven churches and chapels in his own mission district.
In a thank-offering to celebrate our first wedding anniversary, Charlotte and I presented a new church bell to Father Jeffry, Saint Matthias Chapel and the people of Sinar Baru.
There were two stopovers in Singapore in October and November. Because of flight cancellations and rerouting, we missed the first opportunity to stay over in Singapore. But on the return journey we stayed in the Chinatown district of Singapore, visited many of the major sites, and, of course, sought out the street art, took a boat trip on the river and sipped a Singapore Sling in Raffles Hotel.
Once again, I went in search of churches, cathedrals, synagogues, mosques and Hindu, Buddhist and Chinese temples. It was particularly interesting to see the influence of five key Irish figures on the layout, streets and architecture of Singapore: Sir Orfeur Cavenagh from Wexford, George Drumgoole Coleman from Drogheda, and Denis Santry and Denis Lane McSwiney, both from Cork, and William Cuppage from Dublin.
Early morning on Rue Saint Séverin, in the Latin Quarter of Paris, off the Boulevard Saint-Michel (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)
My optimum definition of visiting somewhere is staying overnight. Using that yardstick, I have slept in 15 different beds in the past 12 months – not counting the sleeps I tried to catch on two overnight flights between Paris and Singapore, but including an unexpected stay in an hotel at Schiphol Airport in October when our flight from Birmingham to Amsterdam was delayed, and we were rerouted through Paris.
My minimum definition of visiting somewhere is if my feet are on the ground and I stop over long enough to have coffee and something to eat. This means we were in Paris three times this year: a delayed honeymoon in Paris in February, and two very brief stop-overs at Charles de Gaulle Airport in October and November on the way to and from Singapore and Kuching.
Our visit to Paris earlier in the year was what in reality was a delayed honeymoon, just two months after our wedding at the end of last year.
It was my first time to travel on the Eurostar, and we stayed in the Hotel Europe-Saint-Séverin on Rue St Séverin. We were in the heart of the Latin Quarter, a few steps away from the Boulevard Saint-Michel and across the river from Notre Dame Cathedral, where the restoration work was still under way but near completion.
The olive groves on the hillsides between Piskopianó and Koutouloufári above Hersonissos (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
I returned to Greece in April, spending almost a week between Western Easter and Orthodox Easter in Rethymnon, where I stayed in the Brascos Hotel, overlooking the Municipal Gardens and close to the old town and the Venetian harbour. Since the mid-1980s, Rethymnon has been the nearest I have to any home town in Greece.
There was time for coffee, drinks, and even a long lingering lunch or two with old friends in Rethymnon, Platanias, Koutouloufari, Piskopiano, Iraklion and Panormos.
I had walks on the beaches and harbours in Rethymnon, Platanias, Hersonissos and Panrmos, it was exhilarating to stroll again in the hills and by the olive groves in Koutouloufari and Piskopiano. And I visited some favourite old churches and monasteries, browsed in the bookshops in the narrow streets of the old town, and watched the sunset behind the harbour and the Fortezza.
Looking across Dublin Bay from Blackrock to Howth Head during a summer visit to Dublin (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)
There were six visits to Ireland this year, including five return visits to Dublin. They included three family visits in June, August and shortly before Christmas this month. I stayed over on those three visits, in the Harcourt Hotel on Harcourt Street (June), the Martello Hotel in Bray, Co Wicklow (August), and the Travelodge in Rathmines (December).
During the visit in August, we had opportunities too to see the Iveagh Gardens in detail and to visit Newman House and the Museum of Literature Ireland (MoLI) on Saint Stephen’s Green.
We were in Belfast for two nights in September, when we were invited to a family celebration near Templepatrick, Co Antrim.
A school reunion in September involved lunch in Peploe’s restaurant on Saint Stephen’s when about 30 or more of us who left school at Gormanston, Co Meath, after the Leaving Certificate exams in 1969. It was surprising to see so many of us still looking hale and hearty in our early-to-mid 70s. But that lunch in September and a business meeting in October were flying visits, literally, flying into Dublin in the morning, and back to Birmingham late in the evening.
My family visit to Dublin shortly before Christmas was also an opportunity to hear about the current campaign to protect Kenilworth Square, Rathgar, from plans by Saint Mary’s College to develop its rugby and cricket facilities in the square.
Walking by the river and through Christchurch Meadows in Oxford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)
I have been living in Stony Stratford, on the northern edges of Milton Keynes, for almost three years, and it offers me many opportunities to explore neighbouring cities, towns and countryside, to return to parts of England I have known for most of my life, and to see some new parts of England that I am only beginning to explore on my ‘escapades’.
I was in Norwich for the first time this year, when we stayed there in March while visiting an old friend. This was also an opportunity to visit Norwich Cathedral, the house and church associated with Julian of Norwich, and some of the places associated with Quaker history.
I was in Oxford for hospital tests towards the end of the year, but there were visits to Oxford throughout the year, to meet an old friend from India who is an Orthodox priest and theologian, to visit the exhibition ‘Kafka, Making of an Icon’ in the Weston Library, for the Corpus Christi procession from the Chapel of Pusey House to Saint Barnabas, Jericho, to see Holman Hunt’s ‘Light of the World’ in the Chapel of Keble College and visit other churches and chapels, to follow parts of the ‘Alice in Wonderland’ trail, for long lingering pub lunches in the King’s Arms with friends, and time to browse in bookshops, especially Blackwells.
I was back in Cambridge three times this year – twice on the way to and from the USPG conference in High Leigh, and again in November for the seminar and celebrations in Westminster College marking the 25th anniversary of the Institute for Orthodox Christian Studies. During those visits I also had the opportunity drop in again to Sidney Sussex College.
There have been days in London amd short ‘escapades’ to Aston, Beachampton, Bedford, Blisworth, Eaton Socon and Eaton Ford, Hampstead, Handsworth, Hoddesdon, Lamport, Leicester, Loughton, Northampton, Roade, St Neots, and Woughton-on-the-Green, there were forays in search of the traditional coffee houses that give their names to streets in Coffee Hall in Milton Keynes, and there was another visit to the museum at Bletchley Park.
Each time I see Comberford and Comberford Hall between Tamworth and Lichfield I recall old family stories (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)
I was in Lichfield and Tamworth throughout the year. In Lichfield, I attended the mid-day Eucharist and Choral Evensong in the cathedral, had lunch in the Hedgehog and went for long walks along Cross in Hand Lane, through Beacon Park and by Minster Pool and Stowe Pool.
In Tamworth, there were return visits to the Comberford Chapel in Saint Editha’s Collegiate Church and the Moat House, the former Comberford family home on Lichfield Street, and I was invited by the Tamworth and District Civic Society to deliver a lecture in April on the Wyatt architectural dynasty.
Each time I pass Comberford and Comberford Hall on the train between Tamworth and Lichfield, I continue to be filled with warm feelings and to recall past family stories.
However, one visit to Lichfield and Tamworth almost became a catastrophe when I lost my phone on the train. I never recovered it, and trying to recover contacts and update passwords and accounts remains a Sisyphean task even months later.
My researches on Comberford and Comerford links continued throughout the year. I was in Aston, near Birmingham, not only to visit the home of Aston Villa at Villa Park, but also to visit Aston Hall and to visit Saint Peter and Saint Paul Church to see an unusual Comberford family monument.
There were Comberford connections to explore closer to home too, at Stoke Bruerne in Northamptonshire and the neighbouring village of Shutlanger, where the house now known as the Monastery in Shutlanger was the main house on the Parles and Comberford estate in that part of Northamptonshire in the 15th and 16th centuries.
‘The Mother and Child’ sculpture by Glynn Williams in a courtyard in Milton Keynes University Hospital (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)
The year began wrapped up in bed with two of us feeling very sorry for ourselved during yet another attack of Covid-19. But my major health concerns this year included monitoring my continuing recovery from a stroke almost three years ago, and monitoring the symptoms of my pulmonary sarcoidosis and a severe deficiency of Vitamin B-12.
I returned to Milton Keynes University Hospital on 18 March to remember the second anniversary of my stroke in March 2022. There were seven other visits to the hospital in Milton Keynes, in March, June, twice in July, August, October and November, for respiratory and cardiac tests and CT scans, and further tests in the Whitehouse Health Centre near Milton Keynes in October and the John Radcliffe Hospital, Oxford, earlier this month.
I have yet another respiratory or lung test in Milton Keynes Hospital later this week.
I moved from High Street, Wexford, 50 years ago (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)
This has been a year of milestone anniversaries in my life story, some of which have been a delight and pleasure, but some of which I have not responded to with the grace and generosity that I ought to expect even of myself:
It is 55 years since I finished school at Gormanston College (1969).
It is 50 years since I left Wexford and the Wexford People and moved to Dublin and The Irish Times in 1974 and got married the first time in Dublin.
It has been 45 years since I was student in Japan, based in Tokyo for a full term in 1979 on a fellowship from Journalistes en Europe and Nihon Shimbun Kyokai, and with the support of Douglas Gageby, editor of The Irish Times.
It has been 45 since years since I became involved in re-founding the Irish Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament (CND) and as chair of Irish CND.
It has been 40 years since Mercier Press published my first book, Do You Want to Do for NATO? (1984).
It has been 40 years aince completing a Post-Graduate Diploma in Ecumenical Theology at the Irish School of Ecumenics and Trinity College Dublin in 1984, and beginning the BD course at the Kimmage Manor and the Pontifical University Maynooth.
It is 35 years since my elder son was born in 1989.
It has been 30 years since I was appointed Foreign Desk Editor of The Irish Times in 1994, and 30 years since I was commissioned in Christ Church Cathedral as a diocesan reader in the Church of Ireland.
It has been 25 years since I began training for ordination at the Church of Ireland Theological College (now CITI) in 1999.
The former Bea House on Pembroke Park … memories of student days at the Irish School of Ecumenics 40 years ago (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)
I am still waiting for Permission to Officiate (PTO) in the Diocese of Oxford. It is a difficult and at times heart-breaking process, and more difficult in the major Church seasons such as Easter and Christmas, and as I look forward to the 25th anniversary of my ordination as deacon in 2000.
But the local clergy in the Milton Keynes deanery have gone out of their way to welcome me to chapter meetings in the past year in local churches and parishes, including Bletchley, Shenley, Shenley Church End, Wavenden and Wolverton.
I continue to sing with the bass line in the parish choir in the Church of Saint Mary and Saint Giles, Stony Stratford. We rehearse each Wednesday, sing at the Parish Eucharist most Sundays, and we have also sung in All Saints’ Church, Calverton.
I attended the Cathedral Eucharist in Saint Thomas’s Cathedral each Sunday while we were staying in Kuching. During those five weeks, I visited the two cathedrals in Kuching and countless churches throughout the Diocese of Kuching.
There have been visits to Christ Church, Oxford, Lichfield Cathedral, Southwark Cathedral, Saint Anne’s Cathedral, Belfast, St Alban’s Cathedral, Leicester Cathedral, the two cathedrals in Norwich, the cathedrals in Rethymnon and Iraklion in Crete, the two cathedrals in Dublin, Christ Church and Saint Patrick’s, the two cathedrals in Kuching, Saint Thomas’s and Saint Joseph’s, and the two cathedrals in Singapore, Saint Andrew’s and the Good Shepherd.
Although I am no longer a trustee of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), I continue to be involved in its work, and deaw on the USPG prayer diary in my own online prayer diary each morning. I took part in the annual conference of USPG in High Leigh, near Hoddesdon, Hertfordshire, in July, when I was invited to lead the intercessions at the Eucharist on the closing day, and attended the annual founders’ day celebrations for USPG and SPCK in Saint Alban’s Church, Holborn, earlier in the year.
I watched the new iconostasis being put in place in the Greek Orthodox Church in Stony Stratford, where I have been warmly welcomed at the Good Friday and Easter liturgies and other celebrations, as well as numerous coffee mornings.
As well as churches, cathedrals and synagogues, there have been visits to mosques in England, Kuching and Singapore, and to Buddhist, Chinese or Taoist, Hindu, Jain and Sikh temples.
I took part in the Holocaust Memorial Day commemoration at the MK Rose in Campbell Park, Milton Keynes, and the Hiroshima Day commemorations at the Japanese Peace Pagoda by Willen Lake, and attended the Kol Nidre Service at Yom Kippur and the Chanukah party last weekend in our local synagogue.
Sunday afternoon by the beach at Bako in Sarawak looking out at the South China Sea (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)
During the summer months, Charlotte organised a street party, so we all got to know each other better as neighbours in Church Mews and White Horse Lane.
Living off the High Street in Stony Stratford for almost three years now, I miss being close to the sea, and opportunities to walk on a beach or by the sea. But during one visit to Dublin there were opportunities for walks by the shore in both Blackrock and Bray; there were walks on the beaches in Rethymnon, Platanias and Panormos and by the harbours in Rethymnon and Iraklion in Crete; and walks on the beaches in Sarawak in Bako National Park and by the South China Sea at Damai Beach Resort.
There were walks by the Ouse in Stony Stratford, Bedford and St Neots, the Cam in Cambridge, the Cherwell and the Isis or Thames and the boat clubs in Oxford, the Thames in London, the Liffey in Dublin, the Seine in Paris and by the rivers in Kuching and Singapore; there were strolls by Willen Lake in Milton Keynes and the Balancing Lakes near Wolverton; I had canal-side walks in Great Linford, Stoke Bruerne and Wolverton; there were boat trips on the canal in Stoke Bruerne, on the rivers in Kuching and Singapore and in Bako National Park in Sarawak; and there was time to enjoy the regatta and Dragon Boat races in Kuching.
Although I walk 3-5 km a day, I remain a couch potato when it comes to sports. But I was an enthusiastic television fan of the Irish rugby team, of the Irish and English rowers in the Olympics and the Cambridge crew in the boat race, enjoyed the spectacular opening and closing ceremonies at the Paris Olympics, enjoyed the Euros 2024, and kept up-to-date with results for Aston Villa, the Leinster rugby team and the Wexford hurlers.
A walk by the canal near Great Linford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)
I continue to contribute to books, write papers and reviews for journals and magazines, and some of my photographs have been published too in books, magazines – and even in one calendar for next year.
My publications in 2024 included the Προλογος (‘Foreword’) in Ελληνικα Δημοτικα Τραγουδια, Greek Folk Songs by Panos Karagiorgos, (Thessaloniki, Εκδοτικος Οικος Κ & Μ Σταμουλη); a paper on ‘The Lamport Crucifix’ and photographs in 50 Years of the Lamport Hall Preservation Trust, edited by Catriona Finlayson (Lamport, 2024); a short description of ‘Bourke’s House’ in Denis O’Shaughnessy’s The Story of Athlunkard Street, 1824-2024 (Limerick, 2024), which has run to three printings and has sold out each time; the ‘Foreword’ and a photograph in Rod Smith’s Clancarty – the high times and humble of a noble Irish family (Tauranga, New Zealand: Eyeglass Press); and a small, six-page pamphlet with Sarah Friedman, Milton Keynes & District Reform Synagogue: an introduction, with six of my photographs.
I wrote a paper on Saint Patrick for Conversations, a new journal edited by Bernard Treacy and published by Dominican Publications in Dublin; and wrote a book review for The Journal of Malankara Orthodox Theological Studies, published by the Orthodox Theological Seminary in Kerala, India.
There were features and photographs about Bishop Richard Rawle, a 19th century Vicar of Tamworth and SPG-supported Bishop in Trinidad, and about the stained glass artist William Wailes in Tamworth Heritage Magazine; a photograph of Bryce House illustrating February 2025, in ‘Garnish Island Calendar 2025’ produced for a school, Glengarriff, Co Cork; and a photograph in The Liberty, a local newspaper in Dublin. I also continue to write occasionally for The Irish Times.
We visited Lamport Hall in rural Northamptonshire for the launch of Catriona Finlayson’s lavishly illustrated 50 Years of the Lamport Hall Preservation Trust, and met many of the other contributors to the publication.
I was supposed to launch Rod Smith’s book, Clancarty – the high times and humble of a noble Irish family, on the history of the Trench family in London in October. But, in my haste to get to London on time, I boarded the wrong train at Milton Keynes, and ended up instead in Crewe. A return train was never going to get me back to London on time. My embarrassment was redeemed in part, I hope, by recording what I had planned to say first on the train and later when I got back to Stony Stratford, and posting both recordings on YouTube.
I felt so sorry for Rod Smith, who had travelled all the way from New Zealand for the book launch, and we had met in Hampstead a few days earlier to plan what I was going to say. I could only hope the other book launch in Ballinasloe was less of a disaster.
I continue to blog about twice a day, with a prayer diary each morning and a second posting later in the day.
Thoughts shared for the launch of Rod Smith’s book ‘Clancarty – the high times and humble of a noble Irish family’ in London (Patrick Comerford, 2024)
I continue to serve as a trustee of the Retreat, a local almshouse off the High Street in Stony Stratford, and took part in a training day for almshouse trustees in Birmingham.
Throughout the year I have been involved in the Town Centre Working Group, a committee of Stony Stratford Town Council and successfully completing a commission for a public sculpture for Stony Stratford. In the course of that project, I have visited and photographed public sculptures already in situ in Stony Stratford, Wolverton, the campus of the Open University in Milton Keynes and in the grounds of Tamworth Castle.
It was a duty and a privilege to vote in this year’s local and general elections in May and July. I canvassed on the day of the general election and while I am pleased with the election results, including the results in Milton Keynes and Lichfield, I am concerned about the rise of Farage and Reform as part of the rise of the far-right across Europe and North America.
I was in Dublin to vote in the European elections, but this year’s general election in Ireland is probably the first I have not been able to vote in. From a distance, I was sorry to see my old friend Brendan Howlin retire from politics, I was delighted to see George Lawlor, former Mayor of Wexford, elected to the Dail, and I could breathe a sigh of relief that the expected upsurge in support for Sinn Fein was never realised.
A morning with the orangutans in Semenggoh Wildlife Centre (Patrick Comerford, 2024)
On the overnight flight from Paris to Singapore in October, I found it difficult to sleep and kept my eye on the flight path. It was interesting how many conflict zones had to be avoided: Ukraine, Russia, Syria, Israel, the West Bank, Yemen, many parts of the Gulf, Afghanistan … It made the map more interesting, but may have added up to an extra hour to the flight time, and made me more acutely aware of how fragile the world is.
Of course, I am deeply concerned about the continuing aggressive war Russia is waging in Ukraine and the conflicts being fought on so many fronts in the Middle East – in Gaza, Israel, Palestine, Lebanon, Syria and Yemen.
Of course, I am deeply concerned about the plight of refugees the world seems to have forgotten trying to cross the Mediterranean and the Channel and living in hellish conditions in northern France, on Greek islands, and in so many places across the world.
Of course, I am worried about the real threat Nigel Farage and his party could still pose to democracy in Britain, and about the rise of the far throughout Europe.
Of course, I am worried about the rise in antisemitism, Islamophobia, racism and misogyny, remembering that January 2025 marks the 80th anniversary of the liberation of the concentration camps, and that the coming year marks the 80th anniversary of the end of World War II.
And, of course, I am worried about the damage that is going to be wreaked not only in the US but across the globe during another four years of a Trump presidency, with Elon Musk pulling the strings as the puppet master, and what this could mean for the world economy, for democracy, for human rights, the climate change, for fundamental justice, decency and honesty in the public sphere.
There is no Planet B, as one campaign slogan reminds us. There is Nowehere else to go.
During our visit to Norwich earlier this year, we had dinner one evening in the small town of Acle on the Norfolk Broads. But it was too late in the evening to think of going to Great Yarmouth 8 or 9 miles to the east for a walk by the sea.
There is a marshy area by the River Bure about three miles from Acle that was once known as Nowhere or No-Where. The villagers of Acle had salt-pans there to produce salt and in 1861 there were four inhabited houses in Nowehere and 16 residents. Originally, Nowhere was an extra-parochial liberty, until it was formally incorporated into Acle parish in 1862.
The name Nowhere no longer appears in maps and gazetteers, so I cannot say that this year I actually visited Nowehere. But then, there’s nowhere in Nowhere to have a coffee, and certainly nowhere there to stay overnight.
Happy New Year
Taking leave of 2024 and looking forward to 2025 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)
