Daily prayer in Ordinary Time 2026: 142, Sunday 27 September 2026 Seventeenth Sunday after Trinity (Trinity XVII)

He said to his sons, ‘Son, go and work in the vineyard today’ (see Matthew 21: 28) … in a vineyard Perpignan in the south of France (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Patrick Comerford

We are continuing in Ordinary Time in the Church Calendar and today is the Seventeenth Sunday after Trinity (Trinity XVII, 27 September). Later this morning, I hope to be at the Parish Eucharist in Saint Mary and Saint Giles Church, Stony Stratford. I also plan to visit the Greek Orthodox Church in Stony Stratford later this morning.

Today in the Jewish Calendar is the second day od Sukkot 5787. Yom Tob Day 1 started at sunset on Friday night (25 September) and ended last night (26 September), and Yom Tob Day 2 started yedsterday evening and ends this evening (27 September).

Meanwhile, before today begins, I am taking some quiet time this morning to give thanks, and 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.

‘Did the baptism of John come from heaven, or was it of human origin?’ (Matthew 21: 25) … the baptism of John in a window in Saint Mary’s Church, St Neots, Cambridgeshire (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Matthew 21: 23-32 (NRSVA):

23 When he entered the temple, the chief priests and the elders of the people came to him as he was teaching, and said, ‘By what authority are you doing these things, and who gave you this authority?’ 24 Jesus said to them, ‘I will also ask you one question; if you tell me the answer, then I will also tell you by what authority I do these things. 25 Did the baptism of John come from heaven, or was it of human origin?’ And they argued with one another, ‘If we say, “From heaven”, he will say to us, “Why then did you not believe him?” 26 But if we say, “Of human origin”, we are afraid of the crowd; for all regard John as a prophet.’ 27 So they answered Jesus, ‘We do not know.’ And he said to them, ‘Neither will I tell you by what authority I am doing these things.

28 ‘What do you think? A man had two sons; he went to the first and said, “Son, go and work in the vineyard today.” 29 He answered, “I will not”; but later he changed his mind and went. 30 The father went to the second and said the same; and he answered, “I go, sir”; but he did not go. 31 Which of the two did the will of his father?’ They said, ‘The first.’ Jesus said to them, ‘Truly I tell you, the tax-collectors and the prostitutes are going into the kingdom of God ahead of you. 32 For John came to you in the way of righteousness and you did not believe him, but the tax-collectors and the prostitutes believed him; and even after you saw it, you did not change your minds and believe him.

Rome or Paris? Black or White? … are all decisions a clear choice between conflicting contrasts? … wallpaper in a restaurant in Templeogue, Dublin (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Today’s Reflections:

Black or White?

Dog or Cat?

Land or Sea?

Wet Bob or Dry Bob?

Paris or Rome?

Wine or Beer?

It’s the sort of game we all play in our families at one time or another. I loved playing ‘Matching Pairs’ with my sons when they were at the early learning stage.

For adults, there are similar jokes about two kinds of people we compare or contrast: ‘There are two types of people: those who divide people into two categories, and those who don’t.’ For the mathematicians: ‘There are only 10 types of people in the world: those who understand binary, and those who don’t.’ And for those with a more subtle sense of humour: ‘There are two types of people in this world: Those who can extrapolate from incomplete data.’

The readings in the lectionary today give us contrasting pairs. In the first reading (Exodus 17: 1-7), we see contrasts between adults and children; water and wilderness; testing and thirsting; obeying and quarrelling; responsible freedom and slavery without responsibility. The Psalm (Psalm 78) contrasts images of ancestors and children, day and night, rock and river, and so on. In the Epistle reading (Philippians 2: 1-13), the Apostle Paul presents the stark contrasts offered in Christ of slavery and freedom, deity and humanity, fear and trembling, heaven and earth.

These images prepare for the matching pairs or clashing contrasts in today’s Gospel reading (Matthew 21: 23-32).

In the week before his Crucifixion, Christ has just shown the importance of faith in understanding God’s ways. Now, as he teaches in the Temple, representatives of the Sanhedrin, the chief priests and the elders, ask who has given him the power and authority to say and do all that he has said and done in his ministry.

However, Christ declines to answer them until they first answer his question, one that will show whether they have the faith needed to understand his answer.

Those who come to question Christ are skilled in the Law. But this is of little help when it comes to deciding whether a prophet is genuinely from God, in this case Saint John the Baptist.

If they say that Saint John the Baptist was from God, they ought to have repented as he urged them. If they say John was not from God, they risk losing face and credibility with the crowd who are now following Christ. The Sanhedrin judged such issues, but their answer shows their incompetence.

In the second part of this reading (verses 28-30), Christ tells a parable about admission to the kingdom. Like the first son in this parable, people once regarded as disobedient and having lived evil lives, such as tax collectors and prostitutes, have turned to God. But people like the second son, who have given lip-service to the law of God, have not lived out what they say they believe. The second son in the parable addresses the father as κύριος (kyrios), not merely Lord, but in the Septuagint a way of addressing God, yet remains disobedient. br />
However, there is still time.

The Gospel reading is set in the immediate aftermath of Christ’s entry in triumph into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday and his cleansing of the Temple. When he returns to the Temple the following day, he is confronted by the religious and civic leaders, the guardians of belief and tradition, who challenge and question him about his power and authority.

The ‘chief priests and the elders of the people’ are the leaders in the Temple hierarchy, and also at the apex of society in Jerusalem – questioning Jesus about what gives him authority. In particular, they ask what gives him the right to behave as he does, and especially the right to claim he is acting in God’s name when he is behaving like that.

It is a question that Christ might have expected, under the circumstances. The exchange takes place when he enters the Temple. The day before had been an eventful day: when Christ enters Jerusalem and the crowds hail him as king. He next goes into the Temple courts, he overturns the tables and the seats of the money changers and the dove sellers, and he speaks about the destruction of the Temple.

The Temple authorities have been offended. Quite naturally, they have to confront him.

Who does he think he is?

What gives him the right to force his way in and stir things up?

What authority has he to behave like this?

But, in a clever manoeuvre, Christ answers their questions by asking his own question. It was acceptable then, but every bar room lawyer knows now that you are not allowed to ask questions that allow only a choice between two convicting answers, loaded questions like: ‘When did you stop beating your wife?’

Loaded questions are loaded with presuppositions, often with built-in fallacies and false dichotomies. And the chief priests and the elders fall into a trap that every sixth-form debater would know how to set and how to escape.

There is a great deal of humour here. Those who are skilled in the Law failed to see the flawed legal trap. And in doing this they display their innate inabilities, their incomparable incompetence, their own failures in judgment.

In this reading, Christ answers with a two-part question. And once again, he turns the tables on those who confront him. They are taken aback; they are caught in a dilemma: if they answer one way, they are caught out; if they answer the other, they are still caught out. It is a dichotomy, a nd either way they cannot win.

As they are left mulling this over, Christ tells the parable of two sons and a father. The second dichotomy, the second comparison, the second either/or choice, is posed when Christ tells this parable about a father who sends his two sons, a willing son and an unwilling son, to work in the family vineyard.

It is a sharp contrast between being and doing. The two sons remind me once again of the T-shirt I have joked about for years and that eventually I bought in the Plaka in Athens with the words:

‘To do is to be’ – Socrates

‘To be is to do’ – Plato

‘Do be do be do be do’ – Sinatra

The American publisher Cyrus Curtis (1850-1933) once said: ‘There are two kinds of people who never amount to much: those who cannot do what they are told, and those who can do nothing else.’

But the two sons illustrate a serious dilemma: Those who respond negatively to what they are asked to do, may eventually do it … and recognise their initial wilfulness. Those who say they are going to do something they are tasked with, but then refuse to follow-up, to deliver, to do, refuse to recognise their own wilfulness yet persist in their sinfulness.

How often have we responded to people because of their words rather than their deeds and found we have completely misjudged them?

The two sons are asked to go to work in the family vineyard. One son says: ‘I will not.’ In a Mediterranean village culture, in which there is no such thing as personal privacy, this son’s reaction to his father shames the father publicly. The other son says: ‘I go, sir.’ In public, he appears to be what a good son should be.

But the tables are turned when we learn that the son who mouths off actually goes to work in the vineyard, while the son who seems at first to be good and dutiful turns out to be disobedient.

So, those who say they are compliant and say they are doing the right thing have headed off to do things their own way, while claiming they are doing what God wants.

On the other hand, Christ tells all present that even prostitutes and tax collectors who appear to be disobedient might actually end up with a true place in the vineyard. In today’s context, who are the people I keep excluding from the kingdom yet are being called in by God?

Paradoxes aside, most of us are not like one son or the other … most of us are like both sons, and wrestle with their responses and their approaches throughout our lives.

nvitation to a party, a book launch, a wedding, often have four little letters at the end: ‘RSVP’? Have you ever been one of those people who, anxious not to offend, sends back a reply saying yes, I’ll be there, and then something else crops up, and I fail to turn up?

I admit that at time I have been invited to events, ignored the RSVP line in the bottom corner, and then, at the last moment, turned up. And, I have to confess, I have, at least one or twice, accepted … and not turned up. On which evening do you think I was most appreciated, most welcomed? It is more forgivable to be socially awkward than to be wilfully rude.

When we strive with the demands of Christian living, with Christian discipleship, it is easy to be like one of these sons. There are times when we may find it difficult to do what God is asking you to do. We wait, we think, we ponder, but eventually we answer that RSVP and seek to do God’s will. We say ‘No’ countless times, and then realise how worthwhile it all is: labouring in the vineyard should be hard work, but it leads to a good harvest and good wine.

I have to be careful to distinguish between God’s will and my own will. When they coincide, there are countless blessings. But when they are in conflict, I need to beware of pretending that one is the other, that I am answering the Father’s call and doing his work, when in reality I am doing what I want to do myself, and telling others what I want rather than what God wants.

In The Great Divorce, CS Lewis claims: ‘There are only two kinds of people in the end: those who say to God, “Thy will be done,” and those to whom God says, in the end, “Thy will be done”.’

Doing and Being … advice on a T-shirt in the Plaka in Athens (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Today’s Prayers (Sunday 27 September 2026, Trinity XVII):

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 27 September to 3 October 2026 (pp 42-43), is ‘Power of Language’. This theme is introduced today with a reflection by Rachel Weller, Communications Officer, USPG:

‘Language is more than words; it carries culture, identity, and connection. It preserves memory, shapes community understanding, and gives voice to what matters most. At the USPG International Consultation 2026, the Right Revd Dushantha Rodrigo and the Right Revd Sally Hernández García shared examples of how language can both divide and heal communities.

‘In Sri Lanka, Tamil and Sinhala communities have long histories and rich cultural traditions. After independence, political decisions once excluded Tamil speakers from official recognition, leading to unrest, lost opportunity, and deep division. In short, “Two languages, one country; one language, two countries.” The Church responded by using language as a bridge, offering services, hymns, and liturgy in Tamil, Sinhala, and English so communities could worship together. “Presenting the gospel in different languages gives us credibility in a multi-lingual nation. No message means no hope at all,” explained Bishop Dushantha. Language here becomes access to the gospel and a pathway to reconciliation.

‘In Mexico, Indigenous languages continue alongside Spanish, allowing communities to express faith in ways that honour local culture. Translating the Book of Common Prayer and other liturgical materials is not only technical work but an act of inclusion and respect.

‘As a linguist myself, it was amazing to worship in many different languages. It offered a tangible reminder that God is not bound by language or culture, and that when every voice is honoured, worship and mission are enriched and made more complete.’

The USPG Prayer Diary today (Sunday 27 September 2026, Trinity XVII) invites us to pray as we read and mediate on Matthew 21: 23-32:

He said to his sons, ‘Son, go and work in the vineyard today’ (see Matthew 21: 28) … in a vineyard in Platanias, near Rethymnon in Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

The Collect of the Day:

Almighty God,
you have made us for yourself,
and our hearts are restless till they find their rest in you:
pour your love into our hearts and draw us to yourself,
and so bring us at last to your heavenly city
where we shall see you face to face;
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:

Lord, we pray that your grace
may always precede and follow us,
and make us continually to be given to all good works;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Additional Collect:

Gracious God,
you call us to fullness of life:
deliver us from unbelief
and banish our anxieties
with the liberating love of Jesus Christ our Lord.

Yesterday’s Reflections

Continued Tomorrow

‘John came to you in the way of righteousness’ (Matthew 21: 32) … Saint John the Baptist in a fresco in the Church of the Transfiguration in Piskopianó, near Iraklion in Crete (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

Daily prayer in Ordinary Time 2026: 132, Thursday 17 September 2026

‘A woman … began to bathe his feet with her tears and to dry them with her hair’ (Luke 7: 37-38) … a detail in a window by Michael O’Connor & Sons in Saint Peter and Saint Paul Church, Buckingham (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Patrick Comerford

We are continuing in Ordinary Time in the Church Calendar and this week began with the Fifteenth Sunday after Trinity (Trinity XV, 13 September 2026). The calendar of the Church of England in Common Worship today remembers Saint Hildegard (1179), Abbess of Bingen, Visionary. The calendar of the Greek Orthodox Church today commemorates Saint Sophia, whose name (Σοφία) means ‘wisdom’ in Greek, and her three daughters, Pistis, Elpis and Agape, or Πίστις (Faith), Ελπίδα (Hope) and Αγάπη (Love), martyrs in the second century.

I hope to be involved with a play-reading and drama group in Stony Stratford Library later this afternoon. But, before today begins, I am taking some quiet time this morning to give thanks, for reflection, prayer and reading in these ways:

1, today’s Gospel reading;

2, a reflection on the Gospel reading;

3, a prayer from the USPG prayer diary;

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

Peter Paul Rubens, ‘The Feast of Simon the Pharisee’

Luke 7: 36-50 (NRSVA)

36 One of the Pharisees asked Jesus to eat with him, and he went into the Pharisee’s house and took his place at the table. 37 And a woman in the city, who was a sinner, having learned that he was eating in the Pharisee’s house, brought an alabaster jar of ointment. 38 She stood behind him at his feet, weeping, and began to bathe his feet with her tears and to dry them with her hair. Then she continued kissing his feet and anointing them with the ointment. 39 Now when the Pharisee who had invited him saw it, he said to himself, ‘If this man were a prophet, he would have known who and what kind of woman this is who is touching him – that she is a sinner.’ 40 Jesus spoke up and said to him, ‘Simon, I have something to say to you.’ ‘Teacher,’ he replied, ‘speak.’ 41 ‘A certain creditor had two debtors; one owed five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. 42 When they could not pay, he cancelled the debts for both of them. Now which of them will love him more?’ 43 Simon answered, ‘I suppose the one for whom he cancelled the greater debt.’ And Jesus said to him, ‘You have judged rightly.’ 44 Then turning towards the woman, he said to Simon, ‘Do you see this woman? I entered your house; you gave me no water for my feet, but she has bathed my feet with her tears and dried them with her hair. 45 You gave me no kiss, but from the time I came in she has not stopped kissing my feet. 46 You did not anoint my head with oil, but she has anointed my feet with ointment. 47 Therefore, I tell you, her sins, which were many, have been forgiven; hence she has shown great love. But the one to whom little is forgiven, loves little.’ 48 Then he said to her, ‘Your sins are forgiven.’ 49 But those who were at the table with him began to say among themselves, ‘Who is this who even forgives sins?’ 50 And he said to the woman, ‘Your faith has saved you; go in peace.’

James Tissot, ‘The Ointment of the Magdalene’ (‘Le parfum de Madeleine’) … however, the woman in Simon’s house, Mary Magdalene, Mary of Bethany and the woman caught in adultery are four different women (Photograph: Brooklyn Museum)

Today’s Reflections:

In today’s Gospel reading at the Eucharist in the lectionary (Luke 7: 36-50), Jesus is a guest, but the unwelcome guest at the meal, when he is invited to the house of Simon the Pharisee.

Jesus is accused at different times of eating with publicans and sinners. As we read yesterday, he knows that his detractors point to him and say: ‘Look, a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!’ (Luke 7: 34).

But Jesus also eats with Pharisees too. Indeed, he may have had many meals with Pharisees, although the Gospel writers simply make a passing reference to the host without naming him (see Luke 14: 1-24), or perhaps ignore the meals altogether.

However, at this meal, I imagine an evening when Jesus is found eating with an eminently respectable member of society, a Pharisee, and a leading Pharisee at that too.

Jesus is invited to dinner by a leading Pharisee, Simon, although it is some time before we learn the name of the host that evening. Nor is it clear which city he lives in. Is it Capernaum? Is it Nain or Bethany? Saint John’s Gospel has a similar incident in Bethany (see John 12: 1-8), but it is a very different story, set in the home of Mary, Martha and Lazarus. But do the venue or location really matter? What matters is that the man who should have been the host fails at his task, and the guest at the dinner becomes the true host.

Have you ever been at a dinner where you know some of the guests were invited simply to boost the ego of those who had invited them? Do you know what I mean by the dinner-party-name-dropping-syndrome?

Some might think Simon was suffering from DPND syndrome when he invited Jesus to dinner. I am not inclined to think so: after all, just a few verses earlier, Jesus has come in for some severe criticism, and has given a robust response.

Simon may have thought he was doing the decent thing … a Pharisee inviting a visiting rabbi and preacher to dinner would have been common courtesy and a common experience.

Nor is there is anything unusual, anything offensive, about the behaviour of Jesus at this meal. He takes his allotted or allocated place at the table, and he probably enjoyed the conversation with the people beside him and opposite him.

But then the drama begins.

A woman in the city, a woman known as a sinner, manages to get in. Now, despite popular portrayal and the myths of centuries, it does not necessarily mean that this woman was an open and public sinner, a figure who was known for her sinful ways.

Those who were blind or who were suffering from leprosy or a physical ailment were often treated as sinners. They were seen as having brought their visible scars on themselves, or to be suffering because of the sins of their parents or their ancestors.

Perhaps she was not the easy woman of popular story-telling. Perhaps she was blind, or was disabled physically in some way. We are not told.

And some people ask: how did she get into the house anyway?

But on a balmy summer’s evening in a Mediterranean house, people will normally eat in the inner courtyard that is the part of any house of substance. I just love those long evening dinners in Greece, where you break bread and pour wine for each other at long tables, and as you hand the bread to and pour the wine for the person next to you, the natural response is σε ευχαριστώ (seh efcharisto, thank you), the very phrase that gives us the word Eucharist, thanksgiving.

Anyway, as they were sitting around, perhaps in the inner courtyard, giving thanks to each other, this woman slips in, unnoticed. There was no need for her to gatecrash, she probably just slipped in silently and unnoticed.

At first, even Jesus would not have noticed her, for she stands behind him.

What hurt this unnoticeable woman on the margins so much that she cried so profusely? She cries so much that she must have been deeply hurt, thoroughly dejected and rejected.

I think Rubens and the other great painters get it wrong when they show her in front of Jesus, washing and drying his feet. This woman’s very marginalisation is symbolised in four ways:

• No-one noticed her coming in, or if they did, she was not worth going to the bother of throwing out.

• When she is noticed, she is regarded by all present as being a sinner, although Jesus tells us that she has been forgiven … probably long before this incident took place.

• Although Saint John’s Gospel names her as Mary, she remains unnamed, anonymous, throughout this story. At the beginning, Simon is unnamed, but eventually we get to know who he is. This woman is obviously well-known in her town, but no-one calls her by her name. And in Christian tradition, we have continued to deny her identity, often confusing her with Mary Magdalene and with the woman caught in adultery – two completely different people altogether.

• By her physical place at the table: she is standing behind Jesus, at the back, perhaps just where the servants would have stood as they waited to bring more dishes, or clear away some empty plates. But she takes the place of the servant at the table … in other words, she is a true deacon.

The woman’s behaviour embarrasses Simon. He never went through the normal courtesies and formalities of welcoming a guest into the house, seeing that his shoes were taken from him, given water to wash his hands, his feet washed, his head anointed.

But her alabaster and tears used for anointing and washing Jesus, his head and his feet, also prefigures something else: the women who come to wash the corpse of the Crucified Christ, and to anoint him in his grave (Luke 24: 1-11).

This woman prefigures those women who will be the first witnesses of the Resurrection … perhaps she even is to become one of them.

If so, then wanting to eject her becomes a rejection of the Easter faith.

Simon thinks Jesus should know who this woman really is, failing to realise that Jesus knows what is really going on in Simon’s heart.

Simon is embarrassed, not by what Jesus might know about him, but by the woman.

But Jesus is not embarrassed at all. Instead of confronting the woman, he confronts Simon, and he commends this woman for her faith. He sends her out in peace – the very dismissal that we should experience at the end of the Liturgy every Sunday, week-by-week. She is sent out as a disciple, as an apostle, as a missionary.

And Simon wants to eject her.

Not because of who she is, nor because of her reputation, but because she has shown him up to be a poor host.

There is a sharp contrast between the shallow faith of Simon, the pillar of the Church, and the woman, who has been pushed to the margins, a sharp contrast between those with apparent faith and no response, and those dismissed for having no faith but who are full in their response to Christ’s presence among us.

Simon fails in offering the proper hospitality to his guest. This woman on the other hand receives the full and generous hospitality of God.

Simon has no place in his house for this woman – and, to be honest, no place in his house for Jesus. But God has a place for her in his kingdom.

The conversation between Jesus and this woman is a model for all our encounters with people we see as different or as strangers.

Am I like Simon, and only willing to count in within my inner circle those who are like me and who behave according to my standards?

If I am going to enter into conversation with the stranger, am I open to listening to them, to talking openly and honestly with them about where they come from and what they believe?

When the conversation is over, will they remain strangers?

How open am I to new friendships?

How often do I think people get what they deserve rather than sympathising with their predicaments?

Do I live up to my weekly commission to go out into the world in peace to love and serve the world in the name of the Risen Christ?

Mary anoints the feet of Jesus in Bethany … a window in the north aisle of Saint Mary’s Church in St Neot’s, Cambridgeshire (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Today’s Prayers (Thursday 17 September 2026):

The theme this week (13 -19 September 2026) in ‘Pray With the World Church,’ the Prayer Diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), is ‘Witness as With-ness’ (pp 38-39). This theme was introduced on Sunday with a reflection by the Revd Canon Dr Peniel Rajkumar, Director of Global Mission and Theologian, USPG.

The USPG Prayer Diary today (Thursday 17 September 2026) invites us to pray:

Christ who bore the cross, draw me into deeper discipleship that does not turn away from pain. Teach me to act with love where injustice burdens others.

The Collect:

Most glorious and holy God,
whose servant Hildegard, strong in the faith,
was caught up in the vision of your heavenly courts:
by the breath of your Spirit
open our eyes to glimpse your glory
and our lips to sing your praises with all the angels;
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:

Merciful God,
who gave such grace to your servant Hildegard
that she served you with singleness of heart
and loved you above all things:
help us, whose communion with you
has been renewed in this sacrament,
to forsake all that holds us back from following Christ
and to grow into his likeness from glory to glory;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Yesterday’s reflections

Continued tomorrow

Saint Sophia and her daughters Pistis, Elpis and Agape depicted in a fresco in the Church of the Transfiguration in Piskopianó in Crete … they are commemorated on 17 September (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

Daily prayer in Ordinary Time 2026: 130, Tuesday 15 September 2026

The Widow of Nain … a window by Hardman at the west end of the south aisle in Saint Mary’s Church, St Neots, Cambridgeshire (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Patrick Comerford

We are continuing in Ordinary Time in the Church Calendar and the week began with the Fifteenth Sunday after Trinity (Trinity XV). The calendar of the Church of England in Common Worship today (15 September 2026) remembers Saint Cyprian (258), Bishop of Carthage and Martyr.

Before today begins, I am taking some quiet time this morning to give thanks, for reflection, prayer and reading in these ways:

1, today’s Gospel reading;

2, a reflection on the Gospel reading;

3, a prayer from the USPG prayer diary;

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

The resurrection of the young man of Nain, by Lucas Cranach (1569)

Luke 7: 11-17 (NRSVA)

11 Soon afterwards he went to a town called Nain, and his disciples and a large crowd went with him. 12 As he approached the gate of the town, a man who had died was being carried out. He was his mother’s only son, and she was a widow; and with her was a large crowd from the town. 13 When the Lord saw her, he had compassion for her and said to her, ‘Do not weep.’ 14 Then he came forward and touched the bier, and the bearers stood still. And he said, ‘Young man, I say to you, rise!’ 15 The dead man sat up and began to speak, and Jesus[b] gave him to his mother. 16 Fear seized all of them; and they glorified God, saying, ‘A great prophet has risen among us!’ and ‘God has looked favourably on his people!’ 17 This word about him spread throughout Judea and all the surrounding country.

Jesus Raising the Widow’s Son at Nain (James Tissot, ca 1890)

Today’s Reflection:s

Funeral stories and the stories of children being raised to life, like the story in the Gospel reading this morning, are not always the most cheerful Bible readings. This reading was particularly difficult when I was preaching one Sunday morning many years ago in Saint Patrick’s Church, Donabate, north Co Dublin, when I was baptising a little baby boy.

But at the moment in the lectionary each weekday morning we are working our way through Saint Luke’s Gospel. It is full of stories about healing and wholeness. And I found myself that morning asking who does Jesus bring healing and wholeness to in this reading.

When we look at any Gospel story it is always good to ask a few basic questions, like who, what, where, when and why.

If you want to watch a movie on Netflix this evening, you would probably ask a few basic questions before making your choice:

• What’s the story all about?

• Who are the principal characters, the main actors?

• In other words, is there anything in this for me?

In a similar way, if we are to find anything in a Gospel story that not only makes it interesting but makes it relevant for me, then I suppose I could approach a Gospel reading with the same questions:

• What’s the story all about?

• Who are the main characters?

• Where’s the action?

In today’s Gospel story, there is a lot of action, and a lot of people. In fact, there are two large crowds, and the drama is created in the way they meet each other, in an unexpected and unplanned way.

The first crowd is made up of those following Jesus, who have just arrived after a long, 20-mile walk with him from Capernaum.

This group includes not just those who are his disciples. But a lot of other people too – people are there to see what he is doing, what’s going on. Like Netflix viewers after a hard day’s work, they are looking for the entertainment, looking for the drama, perhaps even hoping for a miracle or too … after all, at Capernaum they have seen him heal the centurion’s servant.

And we ought not to be too dismissive of this crowd following Jesus, or their motives. After all, that is the way a lot of people end up coming to church. They go with the flow, they like what is on offer for their children, it gives them a sense of identity. And, in coming along, they find out who Jesus really is, why it matters to follow him.

Perhaps they were expecting nothing. Perhaps they were just tired, and after a 20-mile walk are anxious about whether there are enough beds in the tiny village of Nain for them all to stay overnight.

And, unexpectedly – in a way that no-one could have planned – this large crowd bumps into another, second large crowd. Nain is called a town here, but it was more like a village, about nine or ten miles south of Nazareth. Until the mid-20th century, it had a population of less than 100 or 200, so we can imagine a tiny place in the days of Jesus.

So, one large crowd bumps into another large crowd. And it is bad news for the large crowd that has been following Jesus.

In a tiny place like Nain, to have a large crowd they must have been drawn from every house and dwelling place, every family in the village. If they are all in mourning, not only are they unlikely to be able to offer anyone bed and breakfast for the night, they probably are ritually unable to do so: a dead body, a corpse, a funeral, a burial, all make a practising, observant Jew ritually unclean.

The disciples and the other people who are following Jesus on the road from Capernaum to Nain must have taken pity on themselves. Where are they going to go tonight? What can they do? Where can they stay?

Perhaps the appeal of following Jesus, waiting for the miracle to happen, suddenly evaporated as this reality dawned on them.

Perhaps they even thought that Jesus should have pity on them, pity on their plight.

But instead, Jesus takes pity, not on them, and not even on the poor young lad who has died either. Instead, he takes pity on the boy’s widowed mother. He has compassion for her, he tells her not to weep.

However, having compassion and doing something about it make two separate sets of demands.

The love of a mother for her young son is incomparable, as people knew too that Sunday morning at the baptism in Donabate, Co Dublin.

Jesus recognises, Jesus identifies with, Jesus is consumed with, the love of this widowed, probably young widowed, mother. As a widow, left financially ruined, her only hope of survival in this world may have been in the livelihood her son would eventually attain.

She has already been widowed, now her son has died. She faces not only emotional devastation, but financial destruction and social ruin … she will have no-one to work her fields, no-one to provide an income, no-one to guarantee her safety and security.

Jesus recognises her plight … and he does something about it. First he does something that is shocking in his day, shocking behaviour for a rabbi in those days. He touches the bier, he touches the dead body. It is no wonder the bearers stood still. He has identified so much with the widow’s plight that he too becomes ritually unclean. In Christ, God’s identification with our humanity is so complete that he takes on everything about us. God so identifies with us in Christ that he even identifies with us in birth, in life, and in death.

The miracle is amazing. The fact that God identifies so much with us is even more amazing. God’s compassion should be more amazing than God’s miracles. It is because of his love and compassion in the first place that there are miracles.

No wonder the crowds, the two large crowds, all of them, are seized with fear. It is awesome.

And yet, in telling this story, Luke rises to some of his most poetic language in this Gospel.

He looks back to the words of the pregnant Mary and ageing Zechariah in the canticles Magnificat and Nunc Dimittis, when Saint Luke says they glorified God (7: 16, cf Luke 1: 47-48), when they realised a great prophet had risen among them (cf Luke 1: 69-70), when they said God has looked favourably on his people (cf Luke 1: 48), when they realised a new day had dawned. She has been shown mercy, she has been saved from the hands of her enemies, she has received the tender mercy of God.

Saint Luke looks forward to that moment when the suffering Christ meets the weeping women outside the gates of Jerusalem (Luke 23: 28-29). And he looks forward to that moment on the Cross, in Saint John’s Gospel, when the dying Jesus takes pity on his widowed mother and entrusts her and the Beloved Disciple to the mutual care of each other (John 19: 26-27).

What we are invited to be witnesses to is not some old-fashioned miracle show. That’s what the large crowd was hanging around Jesus for what the large crowd was hanging around the funeral procession for.

What we are being invited to is the realisation that in his compassion, in his actions, in his caring, Jesus shows us that God loves us, each of us individually, as a mother loves her only and precious child.

If you imagine for one moment the love that little boy who was being baptised in Donabate that morning could expect from his parents, then you can catch, just catch, a glimpse of the love that God has for each of us, individually. God loves you and God loves me as if were the only child in the world that matters … and even more than that.

This is a new dawn. That is what the promise of Baptism is: it is about dying to sin, to the old ways, rising to new life in Christ, and continuing for ever.

The raising of the son of the widow of Nain … a modern icon in a Greek Orthodox church

Today’s Prayers (Tuesday 15 September 2026):

The theme this week (13 -19 September 2026) in ‘Pray With the World Church,’ the Prayer Diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), is ‘Witness as With-ness’ (pp 38-39). This theme was introduced on Sunday with a reflection by the Revd Canon Dr Peniel Rajkumar, Director of Global Mission and Theologian, USPG.

The USPG Prayer Diary today (Tuesday 15 September 2026) invites us to pray:

God of the margins, open my eyes to the many ‘Simons’ around me who feel unseen and unwanted. Help me to walk beside them with humility and compassion.

The Collect:

Holy God, who brought Cyprian to faith in Christ,
made him a bishop in the Church
and crowned his witness with a martyr’s death:
grant that, after his example,
we may love the Church and her teachings,
find your forgiveness within her fellowship
and so come to share the heavenly banquet
you have prepared for us;
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 Cyprian:
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.

or

God our redeemer,
whose Church was strengthened by the blood of your martyr Cyprian:
so bind us, in life and death, to Christ’s sacrifice
that our lives, broken and offered with his,
may carry his death and proclaim his resurrection in the world;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Yesterday’s reflections

Continued tomorrow

Saint Cyprian’s Church on Glentworth Street, Marylebone … the Church calendar remembers Saint Cyprian (258), Bishop of Carthage and Martyr, on 15 September (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)

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

Daily prayer in Ordinary Time 2026: 118, Thursday 3 September 2026

The Miraculous Draught of Fish … a fresco in the Church of Saint Konstantinos and Saint Eleni in Rethymnon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford; click on image for full-screen view)

Patrick Comerford

We are continuing in Ordinary Time in the Church Calendar and the week began with the Thirteenth Sunday after Trinity (Trinity XIII, 30 August 2026). The Season of Creation began on Tuesday (1 September 2026), and it continues until 4 October.

Today, the Calendar of the Church of England in Common Worship remembers Saint Gregory the Great (604), Bishop of Rome and Teacher of the Faith. The Stony Stratford Playreaders are meeting in the library this evening. But, before today begins, I am taking some quiet time this morning to give thanks, for reflection, prayer and reading in these ways:

1, today’s Gospel reading;

2, a reflection on the Gospel reading;

3, a prayer from the USPG prayer diary;

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

The Miraculous Draught of Fish … a window by Heaton, Butler and Bayne in Saint Mary’s Church, St Neots, Cambridgeshire (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Luke 5: 1-11 (NRSVA):

1 Once while Jesus was standing beside the lake of Gennesaret, and the crowd was pressing in on him to hear the word of God, 2 he saw two boats there at the shore of the lake; the fishermen had gone out of them and were washing their nets. 3 He got into one of the boats, the one belonging to Simon, and asked him to put out a little way from the shore. Then he sat down and taught the crowds from the boat. 4 When he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, ‘Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch.’ 5 Simon answered, ‘Master, we have worked all night long but have caught nothing. Yet if you say so, I will let down the nets.’ 6 When they had done this, they caught so many fish that their nets were beginning to break. 7 So they signalled to their partners in the other boat to come and help them. And they came and filled both boats, so that they began to sink. 8 But when Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus’ knees, saying, ‘Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!’ 9 For he and all who were with him were amazed at the catch of fish that they had taken; 10 and so also were James and John, sons of Zebedee, who were partners with Simon. Then Jesus said to Simon, ‘Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people.’ 11 When they had brought their boats to shore, they left everything and followed him.

An icon of the Church as a boat, including Christ, the Apostles and the Church Fathers (Icon: Deacon Matthew Garrett, www.holy-icons.com)

Today’s Reflections:

As I continue to go through some very difficult times personally, I find myself asking whether we ever ask whether we are worthy of the call of Christ – the call to follow him, the call to be a disciple, the call that was first answered for us, on our behalf, at our own baptism?

I am without permission to officiate (PtO), and there are times in recent years when I have had to question my worthiness to be priest. I am not a priest because I think it is my right to be one, or because I thought at one stage it would be a good career move. I am a priest because, despite my resistance to the call over many years, I believe God called me – called me many years ago, perhaps 55 years ago, at the age of 19.

This morning, in the Gospel reading (Luke 5: 1-11), we hear how the renewed call to some of the disciples, including Peter, James and John, comes not to them because they are worthy of this call, or have inherited a call, or have a right to speak on God’s behalf.

Peter, James and John are called not only to speak on Christ’s behalf, but to do what he commands and to follow him. In his response, Simon Peter expresses his feelings of inadequacy and unworthiness, yet accepts the call to speak in Christ’s name, unconditionally and in faith.

Our Baptism has ethical implications for our discipleship: in the community of the baptised, ethnic and social barriers are shattered, for ‘Christ is all and in all.’

In our Gospel story, we hear a story of commitment to Christ, to his message and to discipleship. Christ calls Simon or Simon Peter to be a disciple, promising him he is to be a ‘fisher of men,’ and Peter, James and John leave everything and follow Christ.

This story begins by the ‘lake of Gennesaret,’ on the south-west shore of the Sea of Galilee. The crowd is pressing in to hear Christ, the Word of God, preach the ‘word of God’ or the Christian message.

Christ gets into the boat with Simon Peter. There are two boats in this episode, and James and John are also fishing in one of the boats.

They not only listen to Christ, but they do what he tells them to do, and they are amazed at the consequences. Simon Peter acknowledges Jesus as ‘Master’ or teacher, and responds by falling down before Jesus in humility, pointing to himself as a sinful man, and calling Jesus ‘Lord,’ which becomes an expression of faith.

Peter, James and John make a total commitment to Christ, they leave everything, and they follow him.

In Christian art, the boat is often used as an image of the Church, while the fish is an image of Christ.

In the Early Church, the fish came to symbolise Christ because the Greek word Ichthus (ΙΧΘΥΣ), meaning ‘fish’, is an acrostic for Ἰησοῦς Χριστός, Θεοῦ Υἱός, Σωτήρ, ‘Jesus Christ, Son of God, Saviour.’

Some years ago, when I was visiting Kaş, a pretty town on the south coast of Turkey, I visited the former Church of the Annunciation. Kaş had once been a Greek-majority town known as Andifli, but the Greek ethnic community was expelled in 1923 in one of the early examples of ‘ethnic cleansing’ in 20th century Europe.

For 40 years, the Church of the Annunciation on the acropolis or hilltop above the town lay deserted and crumbling. But in 1963, 40 years after these people were expelled from Andifli, their former parish church was requisitioned as a mosque, and – despite its age – was renamed Yeni Cami (New Mosque). A minaret was added, along with a fountain with a quotation in Turkish, rather than Arabic, from the Quran: ‘We made from water every living thing’ (Surat al-Anbiyya, the Prophets, 21: 30).

Inside, the church was aligned facing east, a new mihrab or prayer niche facing Mecca and a minbar (pulpit) were inserted into the south wall, the frescoes were stripped away and the icon screen was removed. All obvious Christian symbols, including crosses, were picked out of the hoklakia or pebble mosaic in the courtyard. But no-one noticed the significance of the fish, symbolising the Greek word Ichthus (ΙΧΘΥΣ), so that dozens of fish symbolising Christ and the Christian faith are still scattered though this pebble mosaic.

This is, truly, the story of the ‘big fish that got away.’

Have you ever spoken of someone or some thing as a ‘good catch’? A person you had an emotional or romantic interest in? A job or promotion at work you hoped for? A house you wanted to buy?

Can you imagine how Christ sees you as ‘a good catch’?

If the Church is the agent of Christ, do we do a good job in drawing in his ‘good catch’?

Are we trusting enough to do what he asks us to do as his disciples?

And are we trusting enough to know that he sees you, you and me, as ‘good catches’?

But there are more and more ‘good catches’ that he wants us to draw into the boat, into the Church. And the way to do this is to listen to what he says and what he asks us to do. ‘When they had brought their boats to shore, they left everything and followed him’ (Luke 5: 11).

What he has been asking us to do in the readings this week – what he asked us to in his reading from the Prophet Isaiah, which we read as the Gospel reading on Monday morning (Luke 4: 16-30, 31 August 2026) are:

• to bring good news to the poor
• to proclaim release to the captives
• to proclaim recovery of sight to the blind
• to let the oppressed go free
• to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour.

The Ichthus symbol remains discreetly unnoticed in the pebble mosaic of the former church courtyard in Kaş (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Today’s Prayers (Thursday 3 September 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 30 August to 5 September 2026 (pp 34-35), is ‘Anglican Youth Tackle Waste in Madagascar’. This theme was introduced on Sunday with a Programme Update by Ialy Tongasoa, Community Development Lead, Diocese of Toliara, Madagascar.

The USPG Prayer Diary today (Thursday 3 September 2026) invites us to pray:

Lord, guide bishops, parish leaders, and clergy to support and nurture youth initiatives. Remind us, as Psalm 24:1 says, that ‘The Earth and everything in it is the Lord’s,’ and inspire us to promote sustainable practices in care for creation.

The Collect:

Merciful Father,
who chose your bishop Gregory
to be a servant of the servants of God:
grant that, like him, we may ever long to serve you
by proclaiming your gospel to the nations,
and may ever rejoice to sing your praises;
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 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 Gregory to the eternal feast of heaven;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Yesterday’s reflections

Continued tomorrow

‘When they had brought their boats to shore, they left everything and followed him’ (Luke 5: 11) … fishing boats on a shore at Mount Athos (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

Saint Gregory in a stained-glass window in Saint Giles Church, Cambridge … the Church Calendar in ‘Common Worship’ today remembers Saint Gregory the Great on 3 September (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Rutland’s struggles to survive as England’s smallest county, but it has its rivals, including London, Bristol … and Lichfield

Rutland’s name and fame have spread far beyond its small size … the Rutland Fountain in Merrion Square, Dublin (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Patrick Comerford

I was musing earlier this week (31 August 2026) on which is the smallest state in Europe, recalling my visits to the Vatican City, San Marino, Malta, Cyprus and the tiny territory of the Sovereign Military Order of Malta,and even stepping on the steps of the former supreme court of Andorra, albeit in French sovereign territory.

In a similar vein, I have sometimes wondered what is the smallest county in England. I have some of the places that make that claim, and as I was researching Monday’s posting on Europe’s micronation, I came across a feature in The Guardian last week (26 August 2026) on how Rutland’s council is due to merge with Leicestershire in 2028 and how some local people are incensed. Lucy Knight asked whether the county can hold on to its ceremonial status.

But is Rutland still the smallest county? Well, that all depends on which list of counties you work from and how you define a county.

The Historic Counties Trust lists 39 English counties, there are 48 ceremonial counties, 84 metropolitan (6) and non-metropolitan (78) counties, and the 48 former postal counties from 1974 to 1996, making England a confusing patchwork of administrative counties, ceremonial counties, postal counties and unitary authority areas.

England’s counties are the source of much regional pride, not least when it comes to cricket. To identify with Yorkshire, Devon or Northumbria is to invite certain expectations about your forthright views or your fondness for cider and clog-dancing. The historic counties continue to be the basis for county cricket teams. Sussex and Yorkshire, for example, continue to be widely recognised as cultural regions, significant in sport and used by many organisations as regional units.

Although Middlesex dates back to the eighth century, Middlesex County Council was abolished in 1965. Yet Middlesex County Cricket Club, and Middlesex University live on, and so too does the historic county of Middlesex, even though most of its inhabitants now live in the ceremonial county of Greater London.

Middlesex has disappeared as a county, but the Fitzrovia Chapel survives as the former chapel of the Middlesex Hospital (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

A major reform and reorganisation of local government in 1974 redrew the map of England and introduced metropolitan counties such as Greater Manchester, South Yorkshire and the West Midlands. Administrative counties and county boroughs were abolished, England, with the exception of Greater London and the Isles of Scilly, was divided into two types of counties: metropolitan and non-metropolitan counties.

Several counties, such as Cumberland, Herefordshire, Rutland, Westmorland and Worcestershire, vanished from the administrative map, while new entities such as Avon, Cleveland, Cumbria and Humberside appeared, in addition to the six new metropolitan counties.

A review of local government structures led to the Rutland, East Riding of Yorkshire, Herefordshire and Worcestershire being restored as administrative areas in the 1990s, while Avon, Cleveland and Humberside were abolished less than 25 years after their creation. Traditional borders were restored between Somerset and Gloucestershire (except at Bristol), County Durham and Yorkshire (towards the mouth of the River Tees, but not in Teesdale), and Yorkshire and Lincolnshire.

The case of Huntingdonshire was considered twice, but the commission found that ‘there was no exceptional county allegiance to Huntingdonshire, as had been perceived in Rutland and Herefordshire’.

The Duke of Rutland depicted on the Rutland Fountain in Merrion Square, Dublin (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Rutland is a ceremonial county in the East Midlands, described by Lucy Knight in The Guardian as a pocket between Leicestershire, Lincolnshire and Northamptonshire, and she repeats the claim it ‘is often considered to be England’s smallest county’.

If we go by the list of historic counties, Rutland is the smallest with a total area of 382 sq km (147 sq miles), and an estimated population of just over 41,000. It has the second-smallest population for a ceremonial county after the City of London.

Rutland is a rural county, and the only towns are Oakham in the west and Uppingham in the south. Rutland is so small that I only remember passing through it on a train between Cambridge and Birmingham that stopped at Oakham.

But despite its size, the name of Rutland has spread far and wide: Parnell Square, one of the oldest Georgian square in Dublin, was laid out in 1753-1785 as Rutland Square, and kept that name until 1933. Charles Manners, Duke of Rutland, was a popular Viceroy of Ireland until he died on 24 October 1787 at the Vice-Regal Lodge in the Phoenix Park, Dublin, now Áras an Uachtaráin, the official residence of the President of Ireland. His memory lives on in the names of Rutland Street, Rutland Place and Granby Row, Dublin, Rutland House and Rutland Street in Limerick, and the Rutland Fountain, an imposing monument in Merrion Square, Dublin, and a second Rutland Fountain in James’s Street, Dublin.

Rutland became a non-metropolitan district of Leicestershire in legislation that took effect in 1974. Under plans for local government reorganisation announced in July 2026, Rutland is about to become part of a new unitary authority area, Leicestershire and Rutland.

The City of London measures just 2.9 sq km, making it the smallest ceremonial county in England (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

But if we rely on the list of ceremonial counties, then the smallest county in England is the City of London, which includes Saint Paul’s Cathedral, Fleet Street, the Bank of England and the Stock Exchange. It is often known as ‘the Square Mile’, measures just 2.9 sq km (1.12 sq miles) and is the smallest ceremonial county in England and the smallest city in the UK by area.

Although more than half a million people work in the City of London, it has a population of only 8,583 people.

Surrounded by the modern ceremonial county of Greater London, the City is a unique local authority area governed by the City of London Corporation, which is led by the Lord Mayor of London, not to be confused with the elected Mayor of London. It is also part of the Greater London Authority, which shares local government powers in the region with the councils of 32 London boroughs and the City of London Corporation. However, it does not include two historic liberties, the Inner Temple and the Middle Temple, enclaves within the City of London.

Tyne and Wear, including Newcastle, Gateshead and Sunderland, is 540 sq km (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

If the City of London is removed from the debate, the ceremonial county of Bristol must be taken into account. It measures 110 sq km (42 sq miles) and was part of the county of Avon from 1974 to 1996, but then returned to being an independent county.

The Isle of Wight is usually regarded as part of Hampshire, but is also a ceremonial county and a unitary authority. It has a land area of 380 sq km (146.7 sq miles), so it is marginally smaller than Rutland, but larger than Bristol and much larger than the ceremonial county of the City of London.

Tyne and Wear, including Newcastle, Gateshead and Sunderland, is 540 sq km (210 sq miles); Merseyside, including Liverpool and the Wirrall, is 652 sq km (252 sq miles); and the West Midlands, including Birmingham, Coventry, Dudley, Sandwell, Solihull, Walsall and Wolverhampton, is 902 sq km (348 sq miles).

St Neots is the largest town in Huntingdonshire, now a local government district in Cambridgeshire (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

All are smaller in area than Huntingdonshire, historically a county in its own right and also, at times, claimed as the smallest county in England. Huntingdonshire has an area of 918 sq km (354.3 sq miles) and boundaries dating from Anglo-Saxon times. It became an administrative county in 1889. It was merged in 1965, with the Soke of Peterborough to form Huntingdon and Peterborough, which in turn was merged with Cambridgeshire and Isle of Ely in 1974 to form Cambridgeshire. Huntingdonshire is now a local government district in Cambridgeshire, and St Neots (33,410) is the largest town.

Cambridgeshire also incorporates the Isle of Ely and the Liberty of Peterborough, each of which was treated as a separate county in legislation in the 19th century.

The Isle of Ely in Cambridgeshire was under the jurisdiction of the Bishop of Ely from 1109 to 1837. From 1889 to 1965, it was an administrative county of about 970 sq km (374.5 sq miles). The Soke of Peterborough, associated with the City and Diocese of Peterborough, was part of Northamptonshire but was had its own county council. The Soke, also known as the Liberty of Peterborough, was abolished in 1965.

We might also consider the shires that were never counties. Large exclaves affected by legislation in 1844 included the County Durham exclaves of Islandshire, Bedlingtonshire and Norhamshire, later treated as hundreds of Northumberland.

Lichfield became a city and county, separate from Staffordshire, in a charter from Queen Mary I in 1553 and remained so until 1888 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

But, of course, one of the smallest counties that ever existed, at least in name and with its own sheriff, from the mid-16th century and that will always be my favourite is Lichfield, one of only 18 towns and cities in England to have held county corporate status in the past. A charter from Queen Mary I in 1553 made Lichfield a ‘City and a County’, separate from the rest of Staffordshire, and it remained so for 335 years until 1888.

Richard II gave a charter in 1387 for the foundation of the Guild of Saint Mary and Saint John the Baptist, which effectively exercised the function of local government in Lichfield until it was dissolved by Edward VI, who incorporated the town in 1548, vesting its government in two bailiffs and 24 burgesses.

The corporation established in 1548 probably acquired legal rights to the surrounding land, but the line of the boundary at that date is uncertain. The charter states merely that the limits of the city and its suburbs ‘should extend as far as in times past they have been reputed and considered to extend’.

Queen Mary I’s charter in 1553 repeated this formula. She granted the charter in 1553, the first year of her reign, as a reward thanking the citizens and bailiffs of Lichfield for their loyalty and support during the Duke of Northumberland’s attempt to block her accession to the throne.

The charter separated Lichfield administratively from Staffordshire, making it a county of itself until it was reincorporated into Staffordshire in 1888. The charter also created the ancient office of the Sheriff of Lichfield, and the city remains one of the few towns in England that still appoints to this ancient office.

Queen Mary I’s charter to Lichfield in 1553 … it remained a city and county until 1888

The City and County of Lichfield extended to an area of about 14 sq km (5.4 sq miles), which is larger than the City of London, but smaller than, say, Bristol, the Isle of Wight or Rutland. The area of the Lichfield City remained so until 1934, when it was enlarged to 14.56 sq km with the addition of part of Streethay on the east, and there have been further adjustments to the boundaries since then.

The charter stated that Lichfield ‘should be a city and county of itself, for ever, and not parcel of Staffordshire. That there should be one sheriff of the city and county of Lichfield, to be chosen on the feast of St Thomas’.

The charter required the newly appointed sheriff to ride the boundaries of the city and county, a distance of 16 to 20 miles, every year on the Saturday nearest 8 September, the Feast of the Birth of the Blessed Virgin Mary, and to inspect and enforce the borders. This tradition continues today through the Lichfield City Council events, and the Sheriff’s Ride this year takes place next Saturday, 5 September 2026.

Daily prayer in Ordinary Time 2026: 83, Wednesday 29 July 2026

Mary anoints the feet of Jesus in Bethany … a window in the north aisle of Saint Mary’s Church in St Neots, Cambridgeshire (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Patrick Comerford

We are continuing in Ordinary Time in the Church and this week began with the Eighth Sunday after Trinity (Trinity VIII, 26 July 2026). The calendar of the Church of England in Common Worship today remembers Mary, Martha and Lazarus with a Lesser Festival. I got back to Stony Stratford late last night after a short, one-day family visit to Dublin.

Later today, Stony Stratford Cricket Club is organising a special charity day at Ostler’s Lane, starting at 11:30, with what promises to be a day of high-quality cricket as a Stony representative side takes on an MCC representative side. This is also a fundraising day for Breast Cancer Now. Ro Whitehead is giving all food for the day in return for a donation to Breast Cancer Now. After the players’ tea break, supporters are invited to enjoy Ro’s teas, with special treats, in return for a donation. The bar is open from midday and all are welcome.

This morning, as this new day 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.

The Hardman window in Saint Mary’s Church, St Neots, with the Anointing of Jesus’ feet by Mary of Bethany (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

John 12: 1-11 (NRSVA):

1 Six days before the Passover Jesus came to Bethany, the home of Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead. 2 There they gave a dinner for him. Martha served, and Lazarus was one of those at the table with him. 3 Mary took a pound of costly perfume made of pure nard, anointed Jesus’ feet, and wiped them with her hair. The house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume. 4 But Judas Iscariot, one of his disciples (the one who was about to betray him), said, 5 ‘Why was this perfume not sold for three hundred denarii and the money given to the poor?’ 6 (He said this not because he cared about the poor, but because he was a thief; he kept the common purse and used to steal what was put into it.) 7 Jesus said, ‘Leave her alone. She bought it so that she might keep it for the day of my burial. 8 You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.’

9 When the great crowd of the Jews learned that he was there, they came not only because of Jesus but also to see Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead. 10 So the chief priests planned to put Lazarus to death as well, 11 since it was on account of him that many of the Jews were deserting and were believing in Jesus.

‘There they gave a dinner for him. Martha served, and Lazarus was one of those at the table with him’ (John 12: 2) … dinner in Sidney Sussex College, Cambridge (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Today’s Reflections:

Today’s Gospel reading at the Eucharist in the lectionary (John 12: 1-11) is for the Lesser Festival in Common Worship for Mary, Martha and Lazarus.

Many years ago, when I was in my early 20s, the then Rector of Killanne and Killegney, Co Wexford, Canon Norman Ruddock, invited me to speak at one of his Lenten reflections in Clonroche, Co Wexford.

I was then living on High Street in Wexford, working as a journalist with the Wexford People, and I was probably invited as a Lenten speaker because I also had a weekly column in the local newspapers in Co Wexford and Co Wicklow.

I remember how Philip Corish kindly drove me to and from Wexford that evening. Later that year, he was elected an Alderman on Wexford Corporation, and he would go on to become a Mayor of Wexford, while Norman Ruddock later became the Rector of Wexford, and he was a constant encouragement to me throughout my 20s, 30s and 40s to go forward for ordination.

I remember that evening as a balmy spring evening, and Norman Ruddock remarked on how my talk was challenging politically and socially. There was only one written follow-up: an anonymous parishioner sent me an unsigned letter, telling me I had abused the Gospel for political purposes. She (or he) chose to remind me of a saying in today’s Gospel reading: ‘You always have the poor with you’ (John 12: 8), or perhaps? ‘The poor will always be among us!’ (Matthew 26: 11).

That was more than half a century ago. I never kept that letter, but I still think about it when I hear far-right activists criticising people like me, accusing us of being ‘Woke’ or showing ‘empathy’.

These verses continue to be misinterpreted and weaponised as a justification of wealth accumulation and ignoring the plight of the poor and the causes of their poverty.

As today’s Gospel reading makes very clear, it is Judas Iscariot who elicits this response from Jesus. The setting in John 12 is a destitute village, Bethany, whose name means ‘house of the poor’, ‘house of affliction’ or ‘house of misery’. In Matthew 26, Bethany is the house of Simon the Leper, one of the poorest of the poor in a village full of poor people.

In the parallel story in Mark 14: 7, Jesus says: ‘For you always have the poor with you, and you can show kindness to them whenever you wish’. If anyone thinks ‘the poor will always be among you’ is a universal statement that somehow allows them to avoid responsibility from seeking to eliminate poverty, Mark 14: 7 turns that interpretation on its head.

In addition, we should remember that when Jesus cites Scripture he expects those who are listening to be familiar with the passage, and that they should be able to finish the quotation as they take it to heart. Jesus here is quoting from Deuteronomy 15, but the full passage (Deuteronomy 15: 1-11) he cites provides the context:

15 Every seventh year you shall grant a remission of debts. 2 And this is the manner of the remission: every creditor shall remit the claim that is held against a neighbour, not exacting it from a neighbour who is a member of the community, because the Lord’s remission has been proclaimed. 3 From a foreigner you may exact it, but you must remit your claim on whatever any member of your community owes you. 4 There will, however, be no one in need among you, because the Lord is sure to bless you in the land that the Lord your God is giving you as a possession to occupy, 5 if only you will obey the Lord your God by diligently observing this entire commandment that I command you today. 6 When the Lord your God has blessed you, as he promised you, you will lend to many nations, but you will not borrow; you will rule over many nations, but they will not rule over you.

7 If there is among you anyone in need, a member of your community in any of your towns within the land that the Lord your God is giving you, do not be hard-hearted or tight-fisted towards your needy neighbour. 8 You should rather open your hand, willingly lending enough to meet the need, whatever it may be. 9 Be careful that you do not entertain a mean thought, thinking, ‘The seventh year, the year of remission, is near’, and therefore view your needy neighbour with hostility and give nothing; your neighbour might cry to the Lord against you, and you would incur guilt. 10 Give liberally and be ungrudging when you do so, for on this account the Lord your God will bless you in all your work and in all that you undertake. 11 Since there will never cease to be some in need on the earth, I therefore command you, ‘Open your hand to the poor and needy neighbour in your land.’

I suppose all I was doing that Lenten evening over 50 years ago was sharing my interpretation of Biblical economics – an interpretation that is even more relevant today.

‘Christ the Beggar’, a sculpture by Timothy Schmalz in Rome (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Today’s Prayers (Wednesday 29 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 26 July to 1 August 2026 (pp 22-23), is ‘Lives in Transit’. This theme was introduced on Sunday with a programme update by Rachel Weller, Communications Officer, USPG.

The USPG prayer diary today (Wednesday 29 July 2026) invites us to pray:

God of justice, we pray for systems that bind workers into vulnerability and fear. Stir the conscience of governments and employers to act with fairness and integrity.

The Collect of the Day:

God our Father,
whose Son enjoyed the love of his friends,
Mary, Martha and Lazarus,
in learning, argument and hospitality:
may we so rejoice in your love
that the world may come to know
the depths of your wisdom, the wonder of your compassion,
and your power to bring life out of death;
through the merits of Jesus Christ,
our friend and brother,
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.

The Post Communion Prayer:

Father,
from whom every family in heaven and on earth takes its name,
your servants Mary, Martha and Lazarus revealed your goodness
in a life of tranquillity and service:
grant that we who have gathered in faith around this table
may like them know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge
and be filled with all your fullness;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Yesterday’s reflection

Continued tomorrow

The ‘Homeless Christ’ by the Canadian sculptor Timothy Schmalz in the grounds of Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin (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