Daily prayer in Ordinary Time 2026: 90, Wednesday 5 August 2026

Iokasti, a restaurant in Koutouloufari in Crete … are there comparisons between Iocasta and her daughter in ‘The Phoenician Women’ and the Greek-speaking Syro-Phoenician or Canaanite woman in the Gospels? (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

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 calendar of the Church of England in Common Worship today recalls Saint Oswald (642), King of Northumbria and Martyr, and tomorrow is the Feast of the Transfiguration (6 August).

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.

Mikis Theodorakis recorded ‘Symphony No 4, of the Choral Odes,’ in Athens in May 1987

Matthew 15: 21-28 (NRSVA):

21 Jesus left that place and went away to the district of Tyre and Sidon. 22 Just then a Canaanite woman from that region came out and started shouting, ‘Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David; my daughter is tormented by a demon.’ 23 But he did not answer her at all. And his disciples came and urged him, saying, ‘Send her away, for she keeps shouting after us.’ 24 He answered, ‘I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.’ 25 But she came and knelt before him, saying, ‘Lord, help me.’ 26 He answered, ‘It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.’ 27 She said, ‘Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.’ 28 Then Jesus answered her, ‘Woman, great is your faith! Let it be done for you as you wish.’ And her daughter was healed instantly.


Mikis Theodorakis, Symphony No 4, Movement 2, Euripides, ‘Phoenician Women’ (Φοίνισσαι)

Today’s Reflections

Today’s Gospel reading at the Eucharist (Matthew 15: 21-28) is set in the district of Tyre and Sidon and tells of the Canaanite or Syro-Phoenician woman and her encounter with Christ.

In Saint Matthew’s account, she is a Canaanite woman (verse 22); in Saint Mark’s account (Mark 7: 27-31), she is a Greek-speaking or Syro-Phoenician woman (verse 26).

In the classical world, Phoenician women were pushy women. About 400 years earlier, the great Greek playwright Euripides wrote his tragic play The Phoenician Women (Φοίνισσαι, Phoenissae), rewriting a similar story used by Aeschylus in his play, Seven Against Thebes, and dealing with tragic events following the fall of Oedipus.

The title of the play by Euripides, The Phoenician Women, refers to the Greek chorus, which is composed of Phoenician women on their way to Delphi and who are trapped in Thebes by the war.

The two key women in the play by Euripides are Jocasta (Ἰοκάστη) and her daughter Antigone (Ἀντιγόνη), who have survived against all odds. They challenge the accepted concepts in Classical times of fate and free-will.

In the face of death, they refuse to accept what other people regarded as their destiny, they refused to be pushed aside, marginalised and dismissed as the men around then compete for power.

So, in the time of Christ, educated, Greek-speaking people, including those around Tyre and Sidon, would expect a Greek-speaking Phoenician woman and her daughter to be pushy in the face of what appears to be a cruel fate, even if this involves confronting successful or ambitious men: they are prepared to stand up to kings and rulers, prepared to challenge them, and prepared to risk rejection and exile.

Faced with her daughter’s needs, this pushy woman ignores the disciples: she is direct and aggressive in demanding healing and justice. And in demanding justice and healing for her daughter, she is, of course, demanding these for herself too.

The dialogue between this woman and Christ must have sounded crude and aggressive to those who had gathered around to hear what was going on.

This pushy woman forces herself into the house, addresses Jesus in Messianic terms, and demands not that he should heal her daughter, but that he should show mercy. On whom? On her tormented daughter? On the distressed mother? The NRSV translation is clear, where the RSV is not: in the original Greek, she asks for mercy for herself (verse 22).

At times, when I have reading and re-reading this Gospel reading, I have found myself listening yet again to the second movement, ‘The Phoenician Woman,’ in Symphony No 4 (Of the Choral Odes), written in 1986-1987 by the great modern Greek composer Mikis Theodorakis (1925-2021) for soprano, alto, narrator, mixed choir and symphonic orchestra without strings.

Symphony No 4 by Theodorakis contains just two movements based on texts by Aeschylus (Eumenides) and Euripides (The Phoenician Women). The remastered version of this CD was recorded live at Athens at the world premiere of the composition. The booklet includes the completely translated libretto, extensive liner notes and some personal remarks of the composer himself.

In this symphony, Theodorakis provides a setting of Eumenides by Aeschylus and The Phoenician Women by Euripides, brought together in a massive work that conveys classical Greek tragedy through the form of a modern choral symphony.

In his fourth symphony, Theodorakis weaves together three traditions: the symphonic tradition and the integration of vocals into symphonic works; the tradition of great tragic women figures, which he takes up in his operas Medea, Electra and Antigone; and the particularly Greek perception of history.

In his notes written for this symphony, Theodorakis suggests that, because the word symphony is derived from Greek, it is best left to a Greek to define it. He is not concerned with the conventional western sonata form, and this long, two-part work derives its tension and power from its ancient Greek texts, following its own logic rather than abstract rules.

Theodorakis is forceful and direct in his music. There is power in its dark scoring, austere counterpoint, massed unisons, and immense orchestral sonorities.

Admirers of Theodorakis take this work seriously and appreciate his commitment to Greek national culture. But others find it difficult to listen to with its sombre subject matter. Yet this is the very drama, focussed in the desperate plight of one woman and her daughter, that is played out in today’s Gospel reading.

Each time I read today’s Gospel story of this woman and her daughter, they remind me of Jocasta and her daughter Antigone (Ἀντιγόνη). One year, while searching for illustrations and resources for this I came across photographs I had taken of Iokasti, a delightful restaurant in Koutouloufari, east of Iraklion in Crete.

During the Covid Pandemic lockdown earlier that year, in Holy Week, the week before Greek Easter, the people at Iokasti posted on their Facebook page a video clip of ‘Oh my sweet Springtime’ (Ω γλυκύ μου έαρ). This is a song of lamentation sung on Good Friday and imagines the Virgin Mary narrating the Crucifixion and pouring out her pain and grief as the Mother of Christ.

This lament is sung with reverence, emotion and devotion throughout Greece, and it has been performed and recorded by many Greece’s best-loved singers.

The version posted by Iokasti in Koutououfari that year was a recording in Athens by the late Irene Papas (1929-2022) – who played the title roles in Antigone (1961) and Electra (1962) – of the musical arrangement of this hymn by the Greek composer Vangelis:

Αι γενεαί πάσαι, ύμνον τη Ταφή Σου, προσφέρουσι Χριστέ μου.
Καθελών του ξύλου, ο Αριμαθείας, εν τάφω Σε κηδεύει.
Μυροφόροι ήλθον, μύρα σοι, Χριστέ μου, κομίζουσαι προφρόνως.
Δεύρο πάσα κτίσις, ύμνους εξοδίους, προσοίωμεν τω Κτίστη.
Ούς έθρεψε το μάννα, εκίνησαν την πτέρναν, κατά του ευεργέτου.
Ιωσήφ κηδεύει, συν τω Νικοδήμω, νεκροπρεπώς τον Κτίστην.

Ω γλυκύ μου έαρ, γλυκύτατόν μου Τέκνον, πού έδυ σου το κάλλος;

Υιέ Θεού παντάναξ, Θεέ μου πλαστουργέ μου, πώς πάθος κατεδέξω;
Έρραναν τον τάφον αι Μυροφόροι μύρα, λίαν πρωί ελθούσαι.
Ω Τριάς Θεέ μου, Πατήρ Υιός και Πνεύμα, ελέησον τον κόσμον.

Ιδείν την του Υιού σου, Ανάστασιν, Παρθένε, αξίωσον σους δούλους.

All generations offer a hymn at your burial my Christ.
The Arimathean took you down from the cross and buried you in a tomb.
Women came with spices to give you perfume and prepare your burial.
Hither creation was made, let us sing hymns to praise our Creator.
Nourished from above with manna, lifted heels of contempt against their benefactor.
You are being buried by Joseph and Nicodemus, in the grave of the Creator.

Oh, my sweet spring, my sweetest child, where does your beauty fade?
Son of God Almighty, my God and Creator, how can I bear your passion?
Women with spices came very early in the morning to sprinkle the grave with perfume.
O my Holy Trinity, Father, Son and Spirit, have mercy on the world.

Allow us to serve you, O Virgin, to see you son’s resurrection, to be your worthy servants.

In weeping for her daughter, the Syro-Phoenician woman share in the weeping of the Virgin Mary for her son. And in Christ, we find compassion for all our sorrows and all our weeping.


‘Oh my sweet Springtime’ (Ω γλυκύ μου έαρ), a song of lamentation sung on Good Friday, arranged by Vangelis and recorded in Athens by the Irene Papas

Today’s Prayers (Wednesday 5 August 2026):

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 (Wednesday 5 August 2026) invites us to pray:

God of truth, we pray for those who cannot speak openly about injustice in Nicaragua. Give them courage in silence, and raise up voices beyond their borders to bear witness and seek justice.

The Collect of the Day:

Lord God almighty,
who so kindled the faith of King Oswald with your Spirit
that he set up the sign of the cross in his kingdom
and turned his people to the light of Christ:
grant that we, being fired by the same Spirit,
may always bear our cross before the world
and be found faithful servants of the gospel;
through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord,
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.

The Post Communion Prayer:

Eternal God,
who gave us this holy meal
in which we have celebrated the glory of the cross
and the victory of your martyr Oswald:
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.

Collect on the Eve of The Transfiguration:

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.

Yesterday’s reflections

Continued tomorrow

A table for one at Iokasti, a restaurant in the mountain village of Koutouloufari in Crete recalls the play by Euripides (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 (or two) for it: 65, Odyssey (η Οδύσσεια) and Odysseus (Ὀδυσσεύς)

How many would-be critics of ‘The Odyssey’ know the meaning of ‘Odyssey’ or the name of Odysseus? … a sailing ship at sunset in Rethymnon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Patrick Comerford

Christopher Nolan’s film The Odyssey is continuing to be a box-office success, and is continuing to inspire criticism and evoke responses not only from film critics but from classicists too and also from people interested in Greek culture and language.

In my reflections in prayer diary this morning, I referred to the small island of Gavdos off the south coast of Crete which is said to be the Ogygia of Calypso where Odysseus stayed for seven years. I have often looked out across to this Ogygia or Gavdos from Preveli Monastery, and so the fires that have devastated the forests and landscape in the Preveli area in the past week are particularly poignant and heart-breaking for me.

But as I was reading some of the more absurd nit-picking about Christopher Nolan’s Odyssey, I wondered too how many of those would-be classicists, including Elon Musk, with his very weird observations, have ever read The Odyssey in its original Homeric Greek, how many understand that it is epic poetry and not historical narrative, and how many actually try to understand the meaning of the name Odyssey or the name of the hero Odysseus?

The Odyssey (η Ὀδύσσεια, Odýsseia) is one of two major epics in ancient Greek literature attributed to Homer. It is one of the oldest surviving works of literature and remains popular with modern audiences.

Like the Iliad, the Odyssey is divided into 24 books. It follows Odysseus, also known in Latin as Ulysses, the heroic king of Ithaca, and his journey home after the ten-year Trojan War. His journey from Troy to Ithaca lasts an additional ten years, during which he encounters many perils and all of his crew members are killed.

During Odysseus’s long absence, he is presumed dead, leaving his wife Penelope and their son Telemachus to contend with a group of unruly suitors vying for Penelope’s hand in marriage.

The Odyssey was first composed around the eighth or seventh century BCE, and by the mid-sixth century BCE, it was part of the Greek literary canon. In antiquity, Homer’s authorship was accepted, but contemporary scholarship assumes that the Iliad and the Odyssey were composed independently, as part of long oral traditions.

In a time when illiteracy was widespread, the poem was performed for an audience by an aoidos (ἀοιδός) or skilled singer.

The key themes in the epic include those of νόστος (nostos, return or homecoming), which gives us the concept of nostalgia, wandering, ξενία (xenia, guest-friendship), testing and omens. while the Iliad centres on the exploits of soldiers and kings during the Trojan War, some groups in the Odyssey, such as women and slaves, have larger roles than in other works of ancient literature, making the poem relevant to today’s agendas.

The Odyssey is one of the most significant works of the western canon. Its first complete English translation was published in 1616 and it remains one of the most enduring narratives in literature.

Posters for ‘The Odyssey’ at Arts Picturehouse, Cambridge (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2026)

Odysseus (Ὀδυσσεύς or Ὀδυσεύς, Odysseús or Odyseús) of Greek mythology was known in Roman mythology by the Latin variant Ulysses (Ulysses or Ulixes).

Odysseus was the son of Laërtes and Anticlea, the husband of Penelope, and the father of Telemachus, Acusilaus, and Telegonus. He is cunning with an edge of pride, a liar and a storyteller, too smart by far so that he can wriggle his way out of any tight corner. He has a determination to get his homecoming at almost any cost.

He is renowned for his intellectual brilliance, guile, and versatility. The term πολῠ́τροπος (polytropos) literally means ‘man of many turns’, while some translations ‘man of twists and turns’ and ‘a complicated man’. This, in turn, gives him the epithet Ὀδυσσεύς ὁ πολύμητις (Odysseus ho polymetis), Odysseus the Cunning, μῆτις (mêtis) meaning ‘cunning intelligence’.

Ὀδυσ(σ)εύς (Odys(s)eus) is used as the form of his name starting in the epic period and through the classical period. But other forms and variations are found. In vase inscriptions, the variants include Oliseus (Ὀλισεύς), Olyseus (Ὀλυσεύς), Olysseus (Ὀλυσσεύς), Olyteus (Ὀλυτεύς), Olytteus (Ὀλυττεύς) and Ōlysseus (Ὠλυσσεύς). Other forms of his name include Oulixēs (Οὐλίξης) and Oulixeus (Οὐλιξεύς).

But the etymology of his name remains unknown. Ancient authors link his name to the Greek verbs ὀδύσσομαι (odussomai) ‘to be wroth against, to hate’; ὀδύρομαι (oduromai), ‘to lament, bewail’; or even to ὄλλυμι (ollumi) ‘to perish’, ‘to be lost’.

Homer relates the name to various forms of this verb in references and puns. In Book 19 of the Odyssey, where Odysseus’s early childhood is recounted, Euryclea asks the boy’s grandfather Autolycus to name him. Euryclea seems to suggest a name like Πολυάρητος (Polyaretos), ‘for he has much been prayed for’.

But Autolycus, ‘apparently in a sardonic mood’, decided to give the child another name recalling ‘his own experience in life’: ‘Since I have been angered (ὀδυσσάμενος odyssamenos) with many, both men and women, let the name of the child be Odysseus’.

Odysseus also receives the patronymic epithet Laertiades (Λαερτιάδης), ‘son of Laërtes’.

In Latin, he was known as Ulixēs or Ulyssēs, but the origins of the Latin form have different explanations. However, I sometimes wonder whether James Joyce’s great work Ulysses would have the same impact if he had named it Odysseus or even The Odyssey.

For my reflections on Christopher Nolan’s film The Odyssey, see this posting on 21 July 2027.

For the word Ὀδύσσεια (Odyssey) alone, see an earlier posting in this series: The Greeks have a word for it: 39, Odyssey, Ὀδύσσεια (7 May 2024).

A poster at the bus station in Rethymnon reminded me I was setting out on an Odyssey (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

Penelope waiting for Odysseus … Μαριάννα Βαλλιάνου, Η επιστροφή, Mariánna Valliánou, ‘The Return’

‘To praise Eternity contained in Time and coloured glass’: John Betjeman’s ‘Sunday Morning, King’s Cambridge’

The ‘vaulted roof so white and light and strong’ (John Betjeman) … in the chapel of King’s College, Cambridge (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2026)

Patrick Comerford

Today is the Eighth Sunday after Trinity [26 March 2026], and after my visit to Cambridge last week, including the chapel of King’s College, I have been reading once again this Sunday of John Betjeman’s poem ‘Sunday Morning, King’s Cambridge’.

Many years ago, in a book review in the Times Higher Education Supplement, Timothy Mowl of the University of Bristol described ‘Sunday Morning, King’s Cambridge’ as one of the ‘least important’ of Betjeman’s poems ‘because it is about a place, not people in a place.’

But Betjeman is at his best when he fuses together in one poem his different passions, and in ‘Sunday Morning, King’s Cambridge’ he presents a happy marriage of architectural detail, finely observed, and the sense of the worship of the eternal captured in a moment.

In ‘Sunday Morning, King’s Cambridge,’ Betjeman captures a sense of wonder in the celebration of Anglican worship as he presents the beauty and splendour of Anglican worship, ablaze with colour.

Taken together, ‘In Westminster Abbey’ and ‘Sunday Morning, King’s Cambridge’ give us a poet who has a deep Christian faith and who holds out hope for the Church of England and Anglicanism. One represents a place of public worship that closely links the Church with the political power in the nation; the other represents the very beauty of Anglican worship in a place associated not only with academic life, but also with the architectural and musical excellence of the nation.

‘In Westminster Abbey’ is one of Betjeman’s most savage satires. It is a dramatic monologue, set during the early days of World War II, in which a woman enters Westminster Abbey to pray for a moment before hurrying off to ‘a luncheon date.’ She is not merely a chauvinist but also a racist, a snob and a hypocrite who is concerned more with how the war will affect her share portfolio than anything else. Her chauvinistic nationalism leads her speaker to pray to God ‘to bomb the Germans’ … but ‘Don’t let anyone bomb me.’ Her social and ethical lapses are a product of her spiritual state, which is a direct result of a nation’s spiritual sickness.

On the other hand, in ‘Sunday Morning, King’s Cambridge,’ the moment of worship exists out of time as the living and the dead, the choir and the poet, join in the eternal praise of God. In this poem, Betjeman captures a joyful and spontaneous reaction, albeit an emotionally restrained expression, and a sense of wonder in the celebration of Anglican worship.

Stanza 1 describes the procession of the choir of the Chapel of King’s College, Cambridge, and the spiritually overwhelming aesthetics of the chapel – the stalls, the stained glass, and especially the stunning fan-vaulted ceiling, ‘a shower that never falls.’

Stanza 2 sees the poet’s mind wander away from the service as he imagines being outside among the ‘windy Cambridge courts.’ Again there is a great emphasis on the vast variety of colour, but all the colours are transformed into ‘waves of pearly light’ reflected off the Cambridge stone. The image suggests that the divine is not to be found exclusively in the chapel but in the world, the space that contains both God’s works and humanity’s work.

Stanza 3 is a geographical and historical expansion of these images and ideas. Here, the white of the ‘windy Cambridge courts’ contrasts with the ‘vaulted roof so white and light and strong.’

Betjeman imagines the tombs that fill churches throughout East Anglia, with the effigies of the deceased captured for eternity in postures of prayer:

… the clasped hands lying long
Recumbent on sepulchral slabs or effigied in brass.

The prayers of these dead are a ‘buttress’ for the vaulted ceiling of the chapel at King’s, which, built near the end of the Gothic period, needs no architectural buttresses. Christianity exists not because of aesthetics but because of prayer, and the sanctuary is supported, not because of the marvels of 15th century engineering, but by a tradition of faith. In ‘Sunday Morning, King’s Cambridge,’ the moment of worship exists out of time as the living and the dead, the choir and the poet, join in the eternal praise of God.

The poem has no irony, except perhaps in the last line:

To praise Eternity contained in Time and coloured glass.

Here Betjeman illustrates the futility of our human desire to share in God’s timelessness. All of us are being confounded by our foolish need to control God and time.

It was a thought to ponder this Eighth Sunday in Lent as I read in the Gospel reading this morning of the small and easily dismissed seeds that grow into God’s kingdom: ‘The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed that someone took and sowed in his field; it is the smallest of all the seeds, but when it has grown it is the greatest of shrubs and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and make nests in its branches.’ (Matthew 13: 31-32).

The Chapel of King’s College, Cambridge, and the wild flowers in the meadow at Back Lawn (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2026)

Sunday Morning, King’s Cambridge, by John Betjeman

File into yellow candle light, fair choristers of King’s
Lost in the shadowy silence of canopied Renaissance stalls
In blazing glass above the dark glow skies and thrones and wings
Blue, ruby, gold and green between the whiteness of the walls
And with what rich precision the stonework soars and springs
To fountain out a spreading vault – a shower that never falls.

The white of windy Cambridge courts, the cobbles brown and dry,
The gold of plaster Gothic with ivy overgrown,
The apple-red, the silver fronts, the wide green flats and high,
The yellowing elm-trees circled out on islands of their own –
Oh, here behold all colours change that catch the flying sky
To waves of pearly light that heave along the shafted stone.

In far East Anglian churches, the clasped hands lying long
Recumbent on sepulchral slabs or effigied in brass
Buttress with prayer this vaulted roof so white and light and strong
And countless congregations as the generations pass
Join choir and great crowned organ case, in centuries of song
To praise Eternity contained in Time and coloured glass.

’To praise Eternity contained in Time and coloured glass’ (John Betjeman) … stained glass in the chapel in King’s College, Cambridge (Photograph: Patrick Comerford 2026)

A morning in the chapel of King’s College, Cambridge, one of the most beautiful buildings in England

The Chapel of King’s College is probably the most recognisable building in Cambridge (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2026)

Patrick Comerford

During my visit to Cambridge this week, when I was introducing a visiting friend from Ireland to the Cambridge I have known for almost 20 years, we spent much of the morning in the chapel of King’s College, which is one of the most beautiful buildings in England.

The Chapel of King’s College is probably the most recognisable building in Cambridge and one of the finest examples of late medieval English architecture, with the world’s largest fan vault. It is a landmark that is often used as a symbol of the city of Cambridge, including the logo of Cambridge City Council.

All the guidebooks run out of superlatives to describe the richness of the interior decoration and the sumptuous flowing lines of its structure. With its soaring pinnacles, breathtaking fan vaulting, superb windows, woodwork and stonework, the chapel is the most magnificent building in Cambridge, dominating the city by its size and its beauty.

Yet tourists may too easily forget the chapel is an active place of daily worship.

King’s College, the Chapel and the Back Lawn, overlooking the River Cam, with punters on the Backs (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2026)

The young Henry VI founded King’s College in 1441 as the ‘King’s College of Our Lady and Saint Nicholas’. It was part of his grand scheme for a college to take graduates of Eton, founded the previous year. The chapel was intended to form one side of a grand court but the residential ranges planned for the other three sides of the court were never complete.

Henry VI compelled landowners in the town to sell him plots along the river, and he proceeded to pull down residences, shops, and even a parish church to make room for his creation. Henry intended his chapel to be without equal. He employed his royal architect, Reginald of Ely, to draw up plans for a church along the lines of a cathedral choir, and Henry laid the foundation stone of the new chapel 580 years ago, on the Feast of Saint James the Apostle, 25 July 1446.

Henry VI soon expanded his scheme, demolishing a large swathe of the town to begin a large court and chapel, and he specified the dimensions of the chapel in his will dated 12 March 1448. The chapel was built in phases by a succession of kings of England from 1448 to 1515, a period that spanned the Wars of the Roses and three subsequent decades. The chapel’s large stained glass windows were completed by 1531, and its early Renaissance pulpitum, dividing the choir from the nave, was erected in 1532-1536.

Inside the Chapel of King’s College, Cambridge … the foundation stone of the new chapel 580 years ago, on the Feast of Saint James the Apostle, 25 July 1446 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2026)

Reginald of Ely continued to work there until he died in 1471, having designed the general form of the chapel and completed the eastern parts up to the transoms of the windows. The original plans called for lierne vaulting, and the piers of the choir were built to conform with them. Ely probably designed the window tracery at the far east of the chapel’s north side: the east window of the easternmost side chapel, which unlike the Perpendicular style of the others is in curvilinear Gothic style.

The pace of building was greatly reduced after the fall of Henry VI in 1461. The new king, Edward IV, starved the Lancastrian projects at King’s and Eton of funds. As a consequence, the expensive stone vault was abandoned, with a timber roof being substituted, and the grand scheme for the whole college was shelved, not to be taken up again until the 18th century.

After Reginal of Ely died, he was followed as master mason by John Wolryche, who raised the eastern parts to the heads of the windows, and Simon Clerk, who completed and roofed the five eastern bays.

Henry VII visited in 1506, paying for the work to resume and leaving money so that the work could continue after he died. Under Henry VIII, the shell of the building was completed in 1515.

In the ante-chapel in the Chapel of King’s College, Cambridge, facing the west end (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2026)

The chapel is 88 metres long, 12 metres in span between the piers and the vault is 24 metres high. The interior, with 12 bays, is the largest in the world covered with fan vaulting.

The fan vaulting was completed in just three years, between 1512 and 1515 by master mason John Wastell, who created the world’s largest fan vault. The vaulting is decorated with intricately carved bosses of wood and stone, featuring heraldic beasts, coats of arms and Tudor motifs.

Many religious sites suffered damage during the English Civil War as Puritans sought to remove or deface iconography they considered inappropriate. Although Parliamentarian troops stationed in Cambridge used the chapel as a training ground, the building was largely untouched. Some sources suggest that Oliver Cromwell, who had studied at Cambridge, ordered its protection. Graffiti left by soldiers can still be seen near the altar, on the north and south walls.

The Adoration of the Magi by Peter Paul Rubens was installed above the High Altar in 1968 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2026)

Above the altar is The Adoration of the Magi by Peter Paul Rubens (1577-1640), painted in 1634 for the Convent of the White Nuns at Louvain in Belgium. The painting was installed in 1968 amid controversy over lowering the sanctuary floor leading up to the High Altar. The Tudor steps were built at the founder’s specific request that the high altar should be 3 ft above the choir floor. When the Rubens was installed beneath the east window, many critics felt there was a conflict between the colours and shape of the picture and those of the stained glass.

The windows of King’s College Chapel are some of the finest of their era. There are 12 large windows on each side of the chapel, and larger windows at the east and west ends. With the exception of the west window, they are by Flemish hands and date from 1515 to 1531.

Barnard Flower, the first non-English person appointed as the King’s Glazier, completed four windows. Galyon Hone and three partners – two English and one Flemish – are responsible for the east window and 16 others between 1526 and 1531. The final four were made by Francis Williamson and Symon Symondes. The one modern window is that in the west wall, which was donated by King’s alumnus Francis Stacey and is by Clayton and Bell and dates from 1879.

During World War II, most of this glass was placed in storage as a precautionary measure, but the chapel again avoided damage.

The pulpitum or wooden screen separating the ante-chapel from the choir and supporting the organ was erected by Henry VIII to celebrate his marriage to Anne Boleyn (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2026)

The large wooden screen separating the ante-chapel from the choir and supporting the organ was erected in 1532-1536 by Henry VIII to celebrate his marriage to Anne Boleyn. The screen is an example of early Renaissance architecture and a striking contrast to the Perpendicular Gothic Chapel. The architectural historian Sir Nikolaus Pevsner said it is ‘the most exquisite piece of Italian decoration surviving in England’.

The brass lectern, surmounted with a small figure of Henry VI, was a gift of Robert Hacumblen, Provost in 1509-1528.

The Tudor choir stalls were made by Peter the Carver, who was also responsible for the screen. The canopies were added in the 17th century.

The poet Rupert Brooke is among the names of the war dead inscribed on the wall of the chapel of All Souls (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2026)

The chapel of All Souls on the south side was converted in the 1920s into a chapel that remembers the dead of World War I and World War II. The names inscribed on the wall include the poet Rupert Brooke.

Saint Edward’s Chapel on the north side is available for private prayer and contemplation. It includes a Madonna in the Rosary by the Westphalian painter Gert van Lon (ca 1512-1520). Other side chapels house exhibition on the history of the chapel.

The chapel has splendid acoustics and is also the venue for some concerts and college events. Services are sung by King's College Choir from Tuesdays to Sundays, and on Mondays by the college’s mixed-voice choir, King’s Voices. Evensong is at 5:30 except on Sundays, when Evensong is at 3:30. The Sung Eucharist on Sundays is at 10:30. Sir Stephen Cleobury was the director of music for the choir from 1982 until shortly before he died in 2019.

The Madonna in the Rosary in Saint Edward’s Chapel (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2026)

Eric Milner Milner-White (1884-1963), who was the Dean of King’s College, Cambridge from 1918 to 1941, introduced the Service of Nine Lessons and Carols to the chapel. It was first broadcast in 1928 and has become a major part of the BBC’s Christmas schedule.

The Christmas Eve Carol Service or the Festival of the Nine Lessons and Carol Service has been an annual event in the chapel since in 1918. It is broadcast live around the world, and people queue from 11 am for the service at 3 pm service. The BBC has broadcast this service from the chapel each year, and it opens with a solo treble singing the first verse of Cecil Alexander’s ‘Once in Royal David’s City’.

Milner-White was also instrumental in inspiring the composer Herbert Howells to write his Collegium Regale service settings in 1941.

The Revd Canon Dr Hueston Finlay has been the Dean of King’s College since 26 January 2026. He was born in Portlaoise, went to school at Wesley College Dublin and has degrees in engineering and theology from Trinity College, Dublin and a PhD from King’s College, London. He has been the Dean of Magdalene College Cambridge (1995-2004), Vice-Dean of Saint George’s Chapel, Windsor Castle (2004-2025), and Treasurer of Saint Patrick’s Cathedral, Dublin (2011). The Revd Mary Kells has been the chaplain since 2021.

A small figure of Henry VI, the founder of King's College, surmounts the lectern in the Choir (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2026)

Why ‘The Odyssey’ is about more than heroes and monsters and looks at the temptations in our own journeys through life

The Odyssey is about more than war, ships and heroics … it is about the temptations along the journey of life … posters at Arts Picturehouse, Cambridge, yesterday (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2026)

Patrick Comerford

The Odyssey is one of the greatest stories ever told. It is a core part of the history, mythology and cultural heritage of Greece. Christopher Nolan’s The Odyssey is already becoming one of the greatest films of the 21st century, and is already introducing many people to one of the greatest works of classical literature.

The ancient Greek epic poem by Homer, who also wrote The Iliad, tells the story Odysseus, king of Ithaca, as he spends 20 years trying to return home: 10 years are spent fighting the Trojan War, and 10 years are spent travelling back home through the Mediterranean Sea.

Many Greeks are disappointed by the new film, expressing concerns that Greek actors were largely absent from major roles, that Athens was not included in the global promotional tour despite being the birthplace of the story, and that it uses very little Greek language and presents little that is authentic Greek culture. They say that a story so deeply rooted in Greece deserves meaningful Greek involvement.

In response, other Greeks are pointing out that this is Hollywood, not a history class. Indeed, the Odyssey itself is epic poetry and never was intended to be narrative, chronological history. Epic poetry and history have different functions, nor does any cinemagoer expect a Hollywood film to be textbook history.

The film opened in Greece last weekend, and is boasting the highest box office sales of any opening weekend this year. The calls for a boycott just may not be having any effect at all.

Far-right Greek extremists staged a protest outside the cinema hosting the premiere, handing out leaflets claiming the film ‘insults Greek history and civilisation’, condemning the casting choices, and using the slogan ‘Greece Belongs to the Greeks, the Odyssey Belongs to Homer.’ They claimed the film fails to honour Homer’s epic and called on audiences not to watch the film.

The extreme right Ethniko Metopo (Εθνικό Mέτωπο, National Front) used racist and fascist images and slogans in its protests outside cinemas at the weekend. They claimed the film ‘insults our history and culture’ and said: ‘Our lives, our history, and our civilisation will not become black.’
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But, historically, whoever said Helen of Troy was not a black woman, or did not have dark Minoan features? Indeed, who even believes Helen of Troy was a real, historical figure?

Who ever said Helen of Troy did not have dark Minoan hair and features? (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

I have yet to see the film, but hope to see it soon. Christopher Nolan looks like introducing a new generation to Homer, the Odyssey and the Iliad, as he dramatizes and retells the story of Odysseus and his encounters with different types of monsters and temptations as he tries to make his way back home to Ithaca from Troy.

I have encountered my own Cyclops and my own sea monsters in my journey in life too, I am sure, I too have come close to my own Scylla and Charybdis, and I too have been tempted to spend too much time among the lotus eaters.

It is a theme that I imagine is found in every culture. Jonah tries to delay heading off to Nineveh, and endures his own terrifying sea ordeals. When he arrives at Nineveh, the temptations and obstacles continue to divert his attention, and it takes him three full days to cross the city.

We all encounter distractions and temptations along our journeys in life, and Christopher Nolan’s film is one more telling of one of the greatest stories in literature.

Homer’s Iliad and Odyssey tell the story of a 20-year search for home (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

In a letter to Christopher Nolan, Herod Priovolos says that like generations of Greeks he grew up with Homer’s story. He says ‘Homer did not sing of Odysseus simply to entertain us with ships, storms, gods and monsters. He told the story because he understood what war, time, distance and loss can do to the human soul.’

And perhaps he is right to point out that the film catches the drama of the Odyssey but does not get to examine the real significance and meaning within the poetry.

Herod Priovolos points out how Odysseus leaves Ithaca as a king, a husband and a father. He returns 20 years later alone, exhausted and disguised as a beggar, carrying the memory of every companion who never made it home.

The monsters are not merely creatures created for spectacle. The Cyclops is power without justice, the Sirens are the beautiful voices that tempt us to abandon our purpose, Circe represents the danger of losing our humanity. Calypso offers Odysseus immortality, but even eternal life becomes a prison when the price is forgetting his wife, his son, his homeland and his own identity.

And, Priovolos continues, Ithaca is not merely an island. ‘Ithaca is the place that remembers you when the world no longer recognises your face. It is the home that remains alive inside you after everything else has been taken away. It is Penelope growing older while she waits. It is Telemachus becoming a man without his father. It is Argos surviving long enough to recognize his master one final time.’

Odysseus is not great simply because he defeats monsters, Priovolos writes. ‘He is great because he is proud, frightened, wounded, clever, imperfect and deeply human. He loses his companions, his youth, his name and 20 years of his life, yet he refuses to forget who he is. When he finally returns, Penelope does not recognize him through strength, glory or appearance. She tests him. Odysseus proves his identity by remembering the bed they built together around the roots of a living olive tree.’

For Priovolos, that is the heart of The Odyssey. Not the battles. Not the ships. Not the monsters. Two people standing before each other after 20 years, asking whether love, memory and identity can survive everything time has done to them.

‘That is why this poem has survived for almost 3,000 years. Every human being is trying to return to something: a home, a person, a lost part of themselves, or the life they had before the world changed them,’ he says.

‘So use Homer’s seas, gods, heroes and monsters. But please understand what you are touching,’ he tells Christopher Nolan and, of course, filmgoers. ‘The Odyssey was never truly about how far a man could travel. It was about how much the world could take from him before he stopped being himself, and whether, after losing almost everything, he could still find his way home.’

Penelope waiting for Odysseus … Μαριάννα Βαλλιάνου, Η επιστροφή, Mariánna Valliánou, ‘The Return’

I am reminded of the poem ‘Ithaka’ in which CP Cavafy transforms Homer’s account of the return of Odysseus to Ithaka. This transformation is a variation on how Dante and Tennyson handle the same theme. They offer an Odysseus who arrives home after a long absence only to find Ithaka less than fully satisfying and who soon makes plans to travel forth a second time.

However, Cavafy answers them by telling Odysseus that arriving in Ithaka is what he is destined for, and that he must keep that always in mind: one’s destiny, the inevitable end of the journey, is a thing to be faced for what it is, without illusions.

The meaning of Ithaka is in the voyage home that it inspired. It is not reaching home or again escaping its limitations once there that should occupy Odysseus so much as those elevated thoughts and rare excitement that are a product of the return voyage.

As Edmund Keeley says, this new perspective is what frees the voyager’s soul of the monsters, obstacles and angry gods, so that when the voyager reaches his Ithaka he will be rich not with what Ithaka has to offer him on his return, but with all that he has gained along the way, including his coming to know that this perspective on things, this unhurried devotion to pleasure and knowledge, is Ithaka’s ultimate value.

Ιθάκη, Κωνσταντίνος Π Καβάφης

Σα βγεις στον πηγαιμό για την Ιθάκη,
να εύχεσαι νάναι μακρύς ο δρόμος,
γεμάτος περιπέτειες, γεμάτος γνώσεις.
Τους Λαιστρυγόνας και τους Κύκλωπας,
τον θυμωμένο Ποσειδώνα μη φοβάσαι,
τέτοια στον δρόμο σου ποτέ σου δεν θα βρεις,
αν μέν’ η σκέψις σου υψηλή, αν εκλεκτή
συγκίνησις το πνεύμα και το σώμα σου αγγίζει.
Τους Λαιστρυγόνας και τους Κύκλωπας,
τον άγριο Ποσειδώνα δεν θα συναντήσεις,
αν δεν τους κουβανείς μες στην ψυχή σου,
αν η ψυχή σου δεν τους στήνει εμπρός σου.

Να εύχεσαι νάναι μακρύς ο δρόμος.
Πολλά τα καλοκαιρινά πρωιά να είναι
που με τι ευχαρίστησι, με τι χαρά
θα μπαίνεις σε λιμένας πρωτοειδωμένους
να σταματήσεις σ’ εμπορεία Φοινικικά,
και τες καλές πραγμάτειες ν’ αποκτήσεις,
σεντέφια και κοράλλια, κεχριμπάρια κ’ έβενους,
και ηδονικά μυρωδικά κάθε λογής,
όσο μπορείς πιο άφθονα ηδονικά μυρωδικά
σε πόλεις Aιγυπτιακές πολλές να πας,
να μάθεις και να μάθεις απ’ τους σπουδασμένους.

Πάντα στον νου σου νάχεις την Ιθάκη.
Το φθάσιμον εκεί είν’ ο προορισμός σου.
Aλλά μη βιάζεις το ταξείδι διόλου.
Καλλίτερα χρόνια πολλά να διαρκέσει
και γέρος πια ν’ αράξεις στο νησί,
πλούσιος με όσα κέρδισες στον δρόμο,
μη προσδοκώντας πλούτη να σε δώσει η Ιθάκη.

Η Ιθάκη σ’ έδωσε τ’ ωραίο ταξείδι.
Χωρίς αυτήν δεν θάβγαινες στον δρόμο.
Άλλα δεν έχει να σε δώσει πια.

Κι αν πτωχική την βρεις, η Ιθάκη δεν σε γέλασε.
Έτσι σοφός που έγινες, με τόση πείρα,
ήδη θα το κατάλαβες η Ιθάκες τι σημαίνουν

Ithaka, Constantine P Cavafy

As you set out for Ithaka
hope the voyage is a long one,
full of adventure, full of discovery.
Laistrygonians and Cyclops,
angry Poseidon – don’t be afraid of them:
you’ll never find things like that on your way
as long as you keep your thoughts raised high,
as long as a rare excitement
stirs your spirit and your body.
Laistrygonians and Cyclops,
wild Poseidon – you won’t encounter them
unless you bring them along inside your soul,
unless your soul sets them up in front of you.

Hope the voyage is a long one.
May there be many a summer morning when,
with what pleasure, what joy,
you come into harbours seen for the first time;
may you stop at Phoenician trading stations
to buy fine things,
mother of pearl and coral, amber and ebony,
sensual perfume of every kind –
as many sensual perfumes as you can;
and may you visit many Egyptian cities
to gather stores of knowledge from their scholars.

Keep Ithaka always in your mind.
Arriving there is what you are destined for.
But do not hurry the journey at all.
Better if it lasts for years,
so you are old by the time you reach the island,
wealthy with all you have gained on the way,
not expecting Ithaka to make you rich.

Ithaka gave you the marvellous journey.
Without her you would not have set out.
She has nothing left to give you now.

And if you find her poor, Ithaka won’t have fooled you.
Wise as you will have become, so full of experience,
you will have understood by then what these Ithakas mean.

– Constantine Cavafy (translated by Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard)

Christopher Nolan’s film ‘The Odyssey’ introduces a new generation to the world of classical Greece (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Daily prayer in Ordinary Time 2026: 67, Monday 13 July 2026

‘Whoever does not take up the cross and follow me is not worthy of me’ (Matthew 10: 38) … an icon by Hanna-Leena Ward in her recent exhibition in Lichfield Cathedral (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2026)

Patrick Comerford

We are in Ordinary Time in the Church Calendar and the week began with the Sixth Sunday after Trinity (Trinity VI, 12 July 2026). Later this evening, I hope to be involved in the service in Saint Mary and Saint Giles Church welcoming the Revd Dr David Jarratt as the new Rector of Stony Stratford.

Before today begins, though, 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.

‘I have not come to bring peace, but a sword’ (Matthew 10: 34) … the Sword of State of James Brooke, first Rajah of Sarawak (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Matthew 10: 34 to 11: 1 (NRSVA):

Jesus said:

34 ‘Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth;
I have not come to bring peace, but a sword.

35 For I have come to set a man against his father,
and a daughter against her mother,
and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law;
36 and one’s foes will be members of one’s own household.

37 ‘Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me;
and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me;

38 and whoever does not take up the cross and follow me is not worthy of me.

39 Those who find their life will lose it,
and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.

40 ‘Whoever welcomes you welcomes me,
and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me.
41 Whoever welcomes a prophet in the name of a prophet
will receive a prophet’s reward;
and whoever welcomes a righteous person in the name of a righteous person
will receive the reward of the righteous;

42 and whoever gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones in the name of a disciple –
truly I tell you, none of these will lose their reward.’

11 Now when Jesus had finished instructing his twelve disciples, he went on from there to teach and proclaim his message in their cities.

‘Whoever gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones’ (Matthew 10: 42) … ‘Christ the Beggar’, a sculpture by Timothy Schmalz on the steps of Santo Spirito Hospital in Rome (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Today’s Reflections:

In the weekday Gospel readings at the Eucharist in recent days, we have been reading in Saint Matthew’s Gospel how Christ calls the Twelve together and prepares them for their ministry and mission. In today’s reading, he concludes that preparation of the Twelve for this mission, as both their teacher and their master.

It is a wonderful piece of drama and poetry. Most English-language versions of this passage present it as prose narrative. But the original Biblical Greek is drama and poetry, so that its impact is powerful.

At the Last Day, Christ will speak out on behalf of those who are his faithful witnesses faithfully, but will deny those who deny him. The smallest act of kindness to those who marginalised and despised is the same as taking up my cross and following Christ.

To re-present that poetic and dramatic impact, I have presented the Greek text in poetic form at the end of this reflection.

In verses 34-36, Christ gives a new interpretation to the apocalyptic vision in Micah 7: 6, a verse thought to foretell the breakdown of society as the end-times approach (see also Ezekiel 38: 21). Spreading the gospel will have unfortunate consequences. There will be tension and division, even within families, between those who accept Christ’s message and the demands it makes, and those who oppose it.

Christians must put loyalty to Christ above family loyalties (verse 37). Following Christ involves the risk of death, and involves taking up the cross, a sure and certain death for those who rebel against the rulers of the day (verse 38). We are then presented with a paradox: those who try to save their own earthly lives will lose all, but those who die for Christ will find eternal life (verse 39).

Many years ago (2008), I was reading through some insightful essays submitted as part of an adult education course in theology. I was excited so many thinking people were engaging with their faith in a challenging, questioning way, seeking to explore and deepen their understanding of how relevant Christianity and the Church are to the world and its problems.

These were not raw, naïve students. They displayed a wide variety of age and background, and came with a variety of experiences that challenge our stereotypical image of the Church. Yes, there were suburban housewives and businessmen, immigrants, truck drivers and young people from rectory families. And they brought amazing, often unconventional, questions and insights to the discussions.

But they sat side-by-side – and sat comfortably side-by-side – with the other students: the single mother with teenage sons; the refugee who had seen horrific outrages, only to find herself marginalised in a new country; a farmer who travelled a round trip of hundreds of miles just to learn more, and to be challenged more deeply by the Christian faith.

Well, no-one said it was going to be easy, did they?

The Christian faith should be challenging. Our reflections on it should be challenging and should challenge us. And, as we integrate that reflection, our discipleship should be challenging to the world … even when that means that there is a price to pay.

If we are unable or unwilling to speak up about our beliefs in time of plenty, how difficult will it be to speak up for Christian values, the Christian point of view, when things are difficult, when things are tough?

Staying quiet when I should speak out will deal a death blow to my morals and my morale. Silence in the face of injustice and suffering is a silent denial of my faith, and of Christ.

For me, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Gonville ffrench-Beytagh and Desmond Tutu stand out as people who knew the consequences but nevertheless took up their cross and followed Christ, and are worthy of the name Christian (Matthew 10: 38). They knew that despite their physical fears were, and the fears they had for the families, who would also suffer socially and physically, that they had little to fear spiritually.

How often do we take the easy option out? How often do we give nice names to the bad things we do? How often do we pretend that we are doing the wrong thing for the right reasons? Or simply because we are doing what is expected of us, what were told to do?

How often good labels have been hijacked to disguise the dreadful. The slogan on the gates outside Auschwitz, Dachau and other Nazi death camps was: Arbeit mach frei – ‘Work makes you free.’

The word ‘apartheid’ does not mean racism. It actually means ‘separate development’, which sounds good except there were no hopes of development and opportunity for anyone but the white people in South Africa.

As he was leading the United States further-and-further along the nuclear arms race, developing new nuclear missiles that would eventually contribute to economic recession, President Ronald Reagan declared in his second inaugural address in 1984: ‘Peace is our highest aspiration. The record is clear, Americans resort to force only when they must. We have never been aggressors.’ They even named one new nuclear weapon ‘Peacemaker’ and named a nuclear warship Corpus Christi.

But it was always so throughout history. In an oft-quoted passage in De vita et moribus Iulii Agricolae, the Roman orator and historian Tacitus quotes a British chieftain Calgacus speaking about Rome’s insatiable appetite for conquest and plunder: ubi solitudinem faciunt, pacem appellant (‘where they make a desert, they call it peace’).

The British chieftain’s sentiment was meant as an ironic contrast with the slogan, ‘Peace given to the world,’ frequently inscribed on Roman medals.

This phrase from Tacitus is often quoted alone. The poet Lord Byron, for instance, adapts the phrase in Bride of Abydos (1813):

Mark where his carnage and his conquests cease!
He makes a solitude, and calls it – peace.

The same poetic irony is found when Christ says to his disciples in this Gospel reading: ‘Do not think I have come to bring peace to the earth. I have come not to bring peace, but the sword’ (Matthew 10: 34).

It is not that Christ is encouraging his disciples to be warmongers – what a gross misreading of his teachings that would be. Nor is he encouraging family rows, encouraging sons to storm out on their fathers, mothers to nag and niggle at their daughters (Matthew 10: 35).

But he is warning his disciples that it is not going to be easy. They are not going to have a quiet time. Those who want a quiet life as Christians can forget about it. And their hopes of a quiet life as passive Christians will vanish quickly.

Are we prepared to stand up for our faith and its values even at the risk of being ridiculed? Even when this upsets the peace of our families, our communities, our society and our land?

Some of those essays I was reading from those students on that adult education course encourage me when it comes to worrying whether people prefer peace at any price or taking a costly stand, even when it challenges prevailing values today.

Many of them had looked at the way we treat immigrants, migrants and refugees in our society. Yes, they observed the rising levels of racism in our society. Yes, they noticed the inadequate welfare and support payments they receive. But they were even more challenging about the way they thought the Church was too comfortable about the problems we are facing in society today. We are too inward-looking, most of them said in their essays. We are too much of a club.

They had stopped and looked at ordinary, everyday parishes. There is no fear of fathers being set against their sons, mothers against their daughters, daughters-in-law against mothers-in-law, or of finding foes within the household (Matthew 10: 35-37). Most of them found our parishes were too like comfortable families or clubs, not open to the worries, concerns and fears of the outsider.

Do we love the clubbish atmosphere in the Church more than we love the Church, the Gospel and Christ?

Or are we prepared to speak out, not worrying about the consequences, knowing that ‘whoever does not take up his cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Those who find their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it’ (Matthew 10: 39).

Matthew 10: 34-42 in Greek:

34 Μὴ νομίσητε ὅτι ἦλθον βαλεῖν εἰρήνην ἐπὶ τὴν γῆν·
οὐκ ἦλθον βαλεῖν εἰρήνην ἀλλὰ μάχαιραν.

35 ἦλθον γὰρ διχάσαι ἄνθρωπον κατὰ τοῦ πατρὸς αὐτοῦ
καὶ θυγατέρα κατὰ τῆς μητρὸς αὐτῆς
καὶ νύμφην κατὰ τῆς πενθερᾶς αὐτῆς,
36 καὶ ἐχθροὶ τοῦ ἀνθρώπου οἱ οἰκιακοὶ αὐτοῦ.

37 Ὁ φιλῶν πατέρα ἢ μητέρα ὑπὲρ ἐμὲ οὐκ ἔστιν μου ἄξιος·
καὶ ὁ φιλῶν υἱὸν ἢ θυγατέρα ὑπὲρ ἐμὲ οὐκ ἔστιν μου ἄξιος·

38 καὶ ὃς οὐ λαμβάνει τὸν σταυρὸν αὐτοῦ καὶ ἀκολουθεῖ ὀπίσω μου, οὐκ ἔστιν μου ἄξιος.

39 ὁ εὑρὼν τὴν ψυχὴν αὐτοῦ ἀπολέσει αὐτήν,
καὶ ὁ ἀπολέσας τὴν ψυχὴν αὐτοῦ ἕνεκεν ἐμοῦ εὑρήσει αὐτήν.

40 Ὁ δεχόμενος ὑμᾶς ἐμὲ δέχεται,
καὶ ὁ ἐμὲ δεχόμενος δέχεται τὸν ἀποστείλαντά με.
41 ὁ δεχόμενος προφήτην εἰς ὄνομα προφήτου
μισθὸν προφήτου λήμψεται,
καὶ ὁ δεχόμενος δίκαιον εἰς ὄνομα δικαίου
μισθὸν δικαίου λήμψεται.

42 καὶ ὃς ἂν ποτίσῃ ἕνα τῶν μικρῶν τούτων ποτήριον ψυχροῦ μόνον εἰς ὄνομα μαθητοῦ,
ἀμὴν λέγω ὑμῖν, οὐ μὴ ἀπολέσῃ τὸν μισθὸν αὐτοῦ.

‘Whoever welcomes you welcomes me’ (Matthew 10: 40) … a multilingual welcome at Saint Paul’s Church, Marylebone (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)

Today’s Prayers (Monday 13 July 2026):

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, from 12 to 18 July 2026 (pp 18-19), is ‘The Land of the Highlanders’. This theme was introduced yesterday with a reflection by the Most Revd Mark Strange, Primus of the Scottish Episcopal Church.

The USPG prayer diary today (Monday 13 July 2026) invites us to pray

Lord God, we pray for the people of the Scottish Highlands, for communities shaped by loss, resilience, and hope. Strengthen those who remain, and renew the life of the land and its people.

The Collect of the Day:

Merciful God,
you have prepared for those who love you
such good things as pass our understanding:
pour into our hearts such love toward you
that we, loving you in all things and above all things,
may obtain your promises,
which exceed all that we can desire;
through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord,
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.

The Post Communion Prayer:

God of our pilgrimage,
you have led us to the living water:
refresh and sustain us
as we go forward on our journey,
in the name of Jesus Christ our Lord.

Additional Collect

Creator God,
you made us all in your image:
may we discern you in all that we see,
and serve you in all that we do;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Yesterday’s reflections

Continued tomorrow

‘Whoever welcomes you welcomes me’ (Matthew 10: 40) … a warm Greek welcome at the Pepi Hotel in Rethymnon

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

Greek Festival brings Greek tastes to Stony Stratford on Sunday, with song, dance, food and a special historical focus

Patrick Comerford

The Annual Greek Festival in Milton Keynes takes place in Stony Stratford tomorrow afternoon (Sunday 5 July 2026) in the grounds of Greek Orthodox Church and the Swinfen Harris Church Hall on London Road, from 12:30 to 5.30 pm.

This year’s festival coincides with special services and liturgical celebrations marking is the 1,400 Anniversary of a significant event in the year 626 CE in Constantinople, present-day Istanbul.

While the Byzantine Emperor Heraclius was away on an expedition, a besieging army of Avars appeared outside the walls of Constantinople, also known as Βασιλεύουσα (Basileuousa) or Queen of Cities. The siege dragged on for several months and the outnumbered Byzantine troops were at the point of reaching desperation.

Despite all the odds, the people of the city kept faith, and the clergy processed through the city, with senior officials and many people, walking along the great walls of the city with an icon of The Mother of God and praying for a miracle.

The answer to their prayers seemed to come when a great storm brought huge tidal waves and the destruction of most of the enemy fleet, causing the besieging forces to retreat.

In a spontaneous response, clergy, officials and people poured into the Church of Saint Mary in Vlachernae (modern day Ayvansaray) on the Golden Horn. There they prayed all night standing up, hence the title Akathistos Hymn, giving thanks to Virgin Mary for the deliverance of their city. The Greek title akathistos literally means ‘not sitting’, because the hymn is sung while all remain standing.

The late Metropolitan Kallistos has written about the Akathistos Hymn as one of the greatest marvels of Greek religious poetry, with a richness of imagery that is the despair of any translator. The Akathistos Hymn has 24 main stanzas, alternatively long and short: each long stanza bears the title ‘Ikos’ and ends with the refrain ‘Hail, Bride without bridegroom’, while each short stanza is termed ‘kontakion’ and ends with the refrain ‘Alleluia’.

The Akathist Hymn is one of the most well-loved services of devotion in the Orthodox Church. Many scholars agree that the Akathist was composed by Saint Romanos the Melodist, who died in the year 556.

The original church in Constantinople has a rich and varied history but only a small shrine remains. The Ecumenical Patriarch made special reference in the Ecumenical Patriarchate Yearbook to this year having a focus on Panagia Vlachernae.

The Greek Orthodox Church in Stony Stratford is dedicated to Saint Ambrose and Saint Stylianos. It also houses a chapel dedicated to Saint Mary of Vlachernae, the only such chapel in north-west Europe. Because of this, the Greek community is dedicating this year’s Paniyiri or Annual Greek Festival to commemorating this historic event.

A number of church services have been held since Wednesday (1 July), including Holy Vigils on Wednesday and Thursday, the Paraclete Canon to the Most Holy Theotokos last night, and Solemn Vespers from 6 pm this evening. The celebrations tomorrow (Sunday 5 July) begin with Matins, followed by a Solemn Divine Liturgy, starting at 9 am and ending with a blessing from the Holy Water of Our Lady of Vlachernae in Constantinople.

The festivities continue this afternoon with the Panigyri or Greek Festival 2026 from 12.30 to 5.30 pm. There will be live Greek music, traditional dances, food and drink, desserts, salads, souvlaki, ecclesiastical items and coffees, including Greek coffee and frappé – which is a Greek invention – all bringing a Hellenic and Mediterranean air to the heart of Stony Stratford.

Diavazo Greek Books are bringing with their specially selected range of Greek books, offering an insight into Greek culture and life. The teachers and pupils from the Greek School with also will be present, ready to have a friendly chat about Greek lessons for children and adults at all levels. The school is also having its summer celebrations next Thursday (9 July), with films, a barbecue and family fun from 5 pm.


Greek dancing at last year’s Greek Festival in Stony Stratford (Patrick Comerford)