Daily prayer in Lent 2026: 25, Saturday 14 March 2026

The Pharisee and the Publican (Luke 18: 9-14) … a stained glass window in Saint Michael’s Church, Limerick (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Patrick Comerford

We have passed the half-way point in Lent, and tomorrow is the Fourth Sunday in Lent (Lent IV, 15 March 2026) and Mothering Sunday or Mothers’ Day.

Today is the decisive and final day in the Six Nations championship, promising wall-to-wall rugby. After an exciting weekend of rugby last weekend, I hope to find somewhere appropriate in Stony Stratford to watch today’s fixtures: Ireland v Scotland (14:10), Wales v Italy (16:40), and France v England (20:10). But, before today begins, I am taking some quiet time this morning to give thanks, to reflect, to pray and to read in these ways:

today begins, I am taking some quiet time this morning to give thanks, to reflect, to pray and to read in these ways:

1, reading today’s Gospel reading;

2, a short reflection;

3, a prayer from the USPG prayer diary;

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

An icon of the Pharisee and the Publican … who was good at praying, and who was a model for praying?

Luke 18: 9-14 (NRSVA):

9 He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt: 10 ‘Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax-collector. 11 The Pharisee, standing by himself, was praying thus, “God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax-collector. 12 I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income.” 13 But the tax-collector, standing far off, would not even look up to heaven, but was beating his breast and saying, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!” 14 I tell you, this man went down to his home justified rather than the other; for all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted.’

Today’s Reflections:

The Jesus Prayer … an image from Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Today’s Reflections:

Κύριε Ἰησοῦ Χριστέ,
Υἱὲ Θεοῦ,
ἐλέησόν με τὸν ἁμαρτωλό

Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, the sinner

The Jesus Prayer, in its simplicity and clarity, is rooted in a prayer heard in this morning’s Gospel reading at the Eucharist (Luke 18: 9-14) and three other passages in Saint Luke’s Gospel:

• the cry of the ten lepers who called to him, ‘Jesus, Master, take pity on us’ (Luke 17: 13);
• the cry for mercy of the publican, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner’ (Luke 18: 14);
• the cry of the blind man at the side of the road near Jericho, ‘Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me’ (Luke 18: 38);
• the sentiments of the cry of the penitent thief on the cross (Luke 23: 42).

The parable of the Pharisee and the Publican and their prayers is an interesting way to examine our own approaches to prayer. Christ teaches his Disciples a variety of approaches to prayer, giving them examples of prayer with the Lord’s Prayer, and examples of how others pray: the Prodigal Son’s father who prays for his son every day; the persistent widow who keeps on badgering the unjust judge every day; and this morning’s Gospel reading, which presents us with two different approaches to prayer, public and private.

But perhaps we can we can be too quick to say that we are presented with one good example and one bad example.

Both the Pharisee and the Publican prays for himself. Each bares himself before God.

The Pharisee gives thanks to God. In fact, by all the current standards of and means of measuring Jewish piety, he is a good man. Consider what he tells God and us about himself.

First of all, he thanks God that he is not like other people. The Morning Prayer for Orthodox Jewish men, to this day, includes a prayer with these words: ‘Blessed art thou, O Lord our God, King of the Universe, who hast not made me a gentile, … a slave, … a woman.’

Thanking God that I am not like others is not an expression of disdain for others; it is merely another, humble way of thanking God for being made the way we are, in God’s image and likeness. The Pharisee’s prayer is not unusual.

The Pharisee then goes on to tell God that he obeys all the commandments: he prays, he fasts and he tithes – in fact, he tithes more than he has to, and perhaps also fasts more often than he has to – and he gives generously to the poor. He more than meets all the requirements laid on him by the Mosaic law, and he goes beyond that. He is a charitable, kind and faithful man.

Anyone who saw him in the Temple and heard him pray would have gone away saying he was a good man, and a spiritual man.

But, despite attending to his responsibilities towards others, the Pharisee in this parable does not pray for the needs of others, in so far as we are allowed to eavesdrop on his prayers.

But then, neither does the publican pray for the needs of others.

So neither man is condemned for not being heard to pray for the needs of the other.

What marks the prayers of the Pharisee out from the prayers of the publican is that, in his prayers, the Pharisee expresses his disdain for the needs of others.

The parable of the Pharisee and the Publican is also a reminder that at times people may think that because they have sinned they should not pray.

But the story of the Pharisee (apparently good) and the Publican (apparently bad), tells us that the Pharisee prayed easily, while the publican could not even lift his eyes to heaven. Instead, the publican smote his breast and prayed: ‘Lord, be merciful to me a sinner.’

Christ tells us it was the publican who ‘returned home justified’ not the Pharisee.

The publican wants to pray even when he feels guilty of sin.

We do not have to wait until we feel righteous, like the Pharisee, so that we can pray. Such prayer is almost useless. I know I can all too easily pray the Jesus Prayer, ‘Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me the sinner,’ and pray it all the more readily when I am feeling righteous than when I realise I am a sinner.

The error of the Pharisee is to confuse the means with the end. Acts of virtue or piety are meant to dispose our hearts towards communion with God, not turn us in on ourselves. As Metropolitan Anthony Bloom wrote: ‘From the [Pharisee] learn his works, but by no means his pride; for the work by itself means nothing and does not save.’

Religious feelings can be deceptive in the extreme. When I think I feel like praying, I may in fact be feeling ‘pious,’ and I may not be ready to pray at this stage. Instead, I may be preparing to be self-consumed and self-congratulatory about being a pious person of prayer.

John Betjeman’s most savage satire is ‘In Westminster Abbey.’ This poem 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.’ Her thoughts on bombings and war are particularly relevant in the midst of today’s wars and crises.

She is not merely a chauvinistic nationalist, 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 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 her nation’s spiritual sickness. But she lets God know prayer and her relationship with God are low down her list of priorities:

Let me take this other glove off
As the vox humana swells,
And the beauteous fields of Eden
Bask beneath the Abbey bells.
Here, where England’s statesmen lie,
Listen to a lady’s cry.

Gracious Lord, oh bomb the Germans,
Spare their women for Thy Sake,
And if that is not too easy
We will pardon Thy Mistake.
But, gracious Lord, whate’er shall be,
Don’t let anyone bomb me.

Keep our Empire undismembered
Guide our Forces by Thy Hand,
Gallant blacks from far Jamaica,
Honduras and Togoland;
Protect them Lord in all their fights,
And, even more, protect the whites.

Think of what our Nation stands for,
Books from Boots’ and country lanes,
Free speech, free passes, class distinction,
Democracy and proper drains.
Lord, put beneath Thy special care
One-eighty-nine Cadogan Square.

Although dear Lord I am a sinner,
I have done no major crime;
Now I’ll come to Evening Service
Whensoever I have the time.
So, Lord, reserve for me a crown,
And do not let my shares go down.

I will labour for Thy Kingdom,
Help our lads to win the war,
Send white feathers to the cowards
Join the Women’s Army Corps,
Then wash the steps around Thy Throne
In the Eternal Safety Zone.

Now I feel a little better,
What a treat to hear Thy Word,
Where the bones of leading statesmen
Have so often been interr’d.
And now, dear Lord, I cannot wait
Because I have a luncheon date.

On the other hand, when I feel like the Publican in our parable, then I can pray like a Publican. Throughout the Church, parishioners protest, ‘I cannot take Communion … lead the intercession … serve at the altar today … because I do not feel worthy.’ But surely I am in much greater danger when I do feel worthy.

When does someone ever say, ‘I have been so good this week I have not felt in the least like a sinner, and this is a great sin and deception?’ Now we would be getting somewhere with prayer!

The 19th century Russian, Saint John of Kronstadt (1829-1902), writes: ‘When the foolish thought of counting up any of your good works enters into your head, immediately correct your fault and rather count up your sins, your continual and innumerable offences against the All-Merciful and Righteous Master, and you will find that their number is as the sand of the sea, whilst your virtues in comparison with them are as nothing.’

What ever happened to the publican or the tax-collector afterwards?

We are not told his name. We are not told where he lived. We are not told how he lived.

Did he ever put into practice what he was praying for? Asking for mercy, receiving mercy, giving mercy?

In moments when I allow my imagination to run away with itself, and with me, I like to ask whether this is the same tax collector as Zacchaeus who appeared in the Gospel reading late last year (Luke 19: 1-10, the Fourth Sunday before Advent, 2 November 2025).

The Pharisee this morning lists all he does: he fasts twice a week; he gives a tenth of all his income (verse 12). Zacchaeus has a profound change of heart, and decides to give away half of his possessions to the poor and to repay four-fold what he has squeezed out of anyone unjustly (Luke 19: 8).

Prayer leads us to God, but prayer that does not lead us to love our neighbour is prayer that is dead.

We need to be people who pray like a publican. We will find so many more times available for prayer if we do. But we should pray for those who are praying like a Pharisee too, so that God may free us from our delusions.

‘In Westminster Abbey’ by John Betjeman’s is a dramatic monologue that retells one part of the parable of the Pharisee and the Publican (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Today’s Prayers (Saturday 14 March 2026):

The theme this week (8-14 March 2026) in ‘Pray With the World Church,’ the Prayer Diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), has been ‘Biblical Sisterhood’ (pp 36-37). This theme was introduced last Sunday with reflections by Dr Sanjana Das, PhD feminist theologian, advocate for the dignity and rights of trafficked and migrant working women.

The USPG Prayer Diary today (Saturday 14 March 2026) invites us to pray:

Merciful God, we pray for traffickers and all who exploit others. Reveal their wrongdoing, open their hearts to repentance, and guide them toward justice, so that lives may be freed from abuse and dignity restored.

The Collect:

Almighty God,
whose most dear Son went not up to joy but first he suffered pain,
and entered not into glory before he was crucified:
mercifully grant that we, walking in the way of the cross,
may find it none other than the way of life and peace;
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 Lord,
grant your people grace to withstand the temptations
of the world, the flesh and the devil,
and with pure hearts and minds to follow you, the only God;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Additional Collect:

Eternal God,
give us insight
to discern your will for us,
to give up what harms us,
and to seek the perfection we are promised
in Jesus Christ our Lord.

Collect on the Eve of Lent IV:

Merciful Lord,
absolve your people from their offences,
that through your bountiful goodness
we may all be delivered from the chains of those sins
which by our frailty we have committed;
grant this, heavenly Father,
for Jesus Christ’s sake, our blessed Lord and Saviour,
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

The Pharisee and the Publican … who would you prefer to have coffee with this morning? (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

‘A Priest along the Way of a Pilgrim’

Where were you 60 years ago? … Ballinskelligs, Co Kerry, was an introduction to ‘The Way of a Pilgrim’ and the Jesus Prayer (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

‘A Priest along the Way of a Pilgrim’

Patrick Comerford

Ecumenical Pilgrimage to Walsingham

Thursday 12 March 2026,

5:15 pm, The Orangery, Anglican Shrine of Our Lady of Walsingham

Introduction

Thank you to Father Mark for inviting me to speak this evening. I had visited his cathedral in London last year without him knowing, without me ever expecting this invitation, and without knowing we have shared Comerford family links to catch up on.

Thank you too to Cyril Wood for his generosity and kindly going out of his way to get me here this week. It’s a long way from Stony Stratford to Walsingham for someone like me who does not drive. It’s even longer than you imagine, because this time last week I was somewhere in the air between Kuala Lumpur in Malaysia and Oman in the Gulf, not knowing if I was going to get back to England in time to be here.

Although I have been a member of the Society of Catholic Priests, this week is proving to be somewhat outside my experiences; this is my first-ever visit to Walsingham, and first impressions are always both striking and formative.

I am Irish, but I have only once been to the Knock Shrine in Co Mayo, and that was out of interest in the architecture of the basilica rather than out of interest in the Marian Shrine. Yes, I have been to Armagh, Downpatrick and Kildare. But I have never been to any of the Marian pilgrim sites or ‘moving statues’ in Ireland.

If you are a football fan like me, and you are about the same age as me, you will be able to answer immediately where you were 60 years ago. I remember the summer of 1966 quite clearly.

I watched the 1966 World Cup Final in July 1966 in a convent in Ballinskelligs at the western end of a remote peninsula in Co Kerry, in one of the furthest corners of south-west Ireland, looking out onto the wild Atlantic waters.

During that month in Coláiste Mhichíl, I also remember learning Irish dancing, boring evenings listening to an old seanachaí, rising to the challenge to go ‘skinny dipping’, my first kiss and my first smoke, reading Anne Frank’s Diaries and being introduced to JD Salinger’s writings, Catcher in the Rye and Franny and Zooey.

As a 14-year-old, little did I realise then of the significance of Franny and Zooey. It introduced many in the west to The Way of a Pilgrim. That book, as many of you know, began as a collection of essays first published as four short stories in Russia in 1884. It is now a beloved spiritual guide to many, introducing them to the Jesus Prayer and the riches of Orthodox spirituality.

My old copies, translated by RM French and introduced by Bishop Walter Frere, are torn and worn or were given away long ago. I later acquired a more recent edition, published in 2017, translated by Anna Zaranko and edited and introduced by Father Andrew Louth. But that too has been lent, borrowed or passed on with the passage of time.

I remember quite clearly how I was obsessed that summer 60 years ago with football, with little or no interest in prayer, spirituality or any pilgrim’s way. But perhaps the seeds were being sown for a very real experience five years later in my teens.

The Chapel and the Hospital of Saint John Baptist without the Barrs, Lichfield, today … recalling a pilgrimage in life that began 55 years ago (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

A pilgrim’s experience of the ‘uncreated light’

As a 19-year-old, I walked in one summer evening, by accident rather than design, into the Chapel of Saint John’s Hospital in Lichfield. I say by accident, because I was attracted by the Tudor architecture of this almshouse rather than its religious significance.

And to this day, it is a lived and living experience, as I remember the sound of lifting the latch, stepping down into the chapel, and being filled with what I still describe 55 years later as the light and love of God.

Physically, it was impossible: sunlight does not stream through the east window of any church or chapel on a summer evening, and that chapel has no west window.

Psychologically, there may be alternative explanations. But, in time, the experience and the sensations would have faded, and not remain so real, so explicit, so alive after 55 years. You could say it was – still is – a living experience of the ‘uncreated light’, of being filled with the light and the love of God.

How was a 19-year-old to respond to such an unexpected experience? I immediately went down Saint John Street, up Bird Street and into Lichfield Cathedral and for the first time sat in the choir stalls for Choral Evensong. Silent. Receptive. Enfolded by the love of God.

On the way out, one of the residentiary canons shook my hand and said something like, ‘I suppose a young man like you is coming back to church because you’re thinking of ordination.’

All in one summer afternoon or evening.

It was too much to take in. It still is. I am still coming to terms, 55 years later, with its meaning and its implications. I have described it to one interviewer as my ‘self-defining existentialist moment.’ It is too limiting, too reductionist, too partisan, too trite, to describe it as a conversion experience, still less as being ‘born-again’.

And, if it could happen to me, I realised, then it was not unique or individual, it could happen to anyone and everyone. God’s love for me had to be God’s love for everyone. It was, is, an experience with immeasurable and unfathomable dimensions and universal implications: if God loves me, then why, of course God loves you, and you, and you …

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

And yet, in a way, without feeling at all uncomfortable, I can feel like saying I was born in Lichfield that day. And so, I go back on pilgrimage, not to relive that experience – because it remains a living experience; not, like Peter, James and John wanting to stay on the mountaintop and build their booths of piety; but as a pilgrim, to give thanks, to pray, to reflect, to be silent, to – as it were – cover my head and bare my feet, for I stand on holy ground.

I go back at least two or three times a year to Lichfield, to this spiritual home or birthplace, to pray in that chapel, sometimes silently without words, when God speaks to me too without words; to follow the cycle of daily prayer and the liturgy in the cathedral; to be comfortable in the presence of Christ in word, in sacrament, and in the body of Christ, the people who are the Church.

If you came this way,
Taking any route, starting from anywhere,
At any time or at any season,
It would always be the same: you would have to put off
Sense and notion. You are not here to verify,
Instruct yourself, or inform curiosity
Or carry report. You are here to kneel
Where prayer has been valid. And prayer is more
Than an order of words, the conscious occupation
Of the praying mind, or the sound of the voice praying.

(TS Eliot, ‘Little Gidding’)

And I hope I’m not being too pious, too po-faced about it. I meet friends, I eat rather than fasting, I go for walks through fields and farmland that I know, some that bear my family name from generations ago. And I enjoy a drink at the end of the day – ‘O taste and see that the Lord is good’ (Psalm 34: 8). (Aside: if I had ever end up in a Benedictine monastery, I want to be the cellarer).

I first visited Jerusalem and the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in 1987 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

A pilgrim’s pilgrimages

In my life in the 55 mature years since, I have been a pilgrim or on pilgrimage to many places:

Jerusalem, which was a graduation present after receiving one of my degrees, along with a ‘bling’ certificate signed by Avraham Sharir and Teddy Kolleck that says I have ‘ascended to Jerusalem, the Holy City’ and am ‘henceforth authorized to bear the title of Jerusalem Pilgrim’.

Mount Athos: (aside: how many of you have been there?) as a priest, I had to receive a particular invitation and permit. As I left, the monks reminded me that when I returned I was to remember that Vatopedi is now my monastery.

Patmos: where Saint John experienced the light in the cave as ‘seven golden lampstands’ and ‘a flame of fire’ (Revelation 1: 12-13) and, incidentally, the monastery of Metropolitan Kallistos.

Mount Sinai: where Moses covered his face with a veil after speaking with God because his face was radiating intense light (Exodus 34: 29-35), and Elijah heard the still small voice in the crag of the rock (I Kings 19).

The Western Desert: the beginnings of monasticism and the home of many of the Patristic writers.

Arkadi and the monasteries of Crete: especially Aghia Irini, where the nuns have brought the place to new life, and welcome tourists on tour buses from throughout the world, bringing the light of Christ back out into the resorts.

Vlatadon: the monastery that is the balcony above Thessaloniki, and where I had a moving moment recalling my grandfather’s own war-time sufferings and eventual death.

Tolleshunt Knights in Essex, which was a regular one-day pilgrimage from Cambridge during the courses organised by the Institute for Orthodox Christian Studies. There Saint Sophrony, the disciple and biographer of Saint Silouan, made the monastery a major centre for the practice of the Jesus Prayer and the community follows the hesychast tradition. ‘Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me a sinner’. Even as a child, Saint Sophrony would say, he experienced the Uncreated Light.

The Jesus Prayer and the Uncreated Light seem to be constant, recurring and repetitive tropes in each of these places for this pilgrim priest.

And there are others too: the churches of Cappadocia … Santiago (without doing the Camino) … Bethlehem … Notre Dame … Rome … the Julian Shrine in Norwich … Coventry Cathedral … Whitby … Glenstal … Rostrevor … Mount Melleray … Saint Mary’s Church, Johannesburg …

I have been strongly influenced by Jewish spirituality over the years, so there is a feeling of pilgrimage too when I visit the Jewish quarters in Kraków, Prague, Berlin and Venice, Le Marais in Paris, or the grave of the Chatham Sofer in Bratislava. I may be too broadminded for some of you when I talk about the efforts I made to organise my own one-day visit to the tomb and shrine of Rumi in Konya:

A mouse and a frog meet every morning on the riverbank.
They sit in a nook of the ground and talk.

Each morning, the second they see each other,
they open easily, telling stories and dreams and secrets,
empty of any fear or suspicious holding back.

To watch, and listen to those two
is to understand how, as it’s written,
sometimes when two beings come together,
Christ becomes visible.

(Rumi)

And I always return to Lichfield, constantly, as that first place where I become me, realised who I was made to be, that I am loved by God, made in God’s image and likeness, the God who loves each and every one of us.

The gates of Auschwitz … a sense of pilgrimage in the memories of darkness evil (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

A pilgrim or a tourist?

We do that sort of thing in secular life and family life too.

Auschwitz, Hiroshima, Sachsenhausen … they can never be reduced to being places of tourist curiosity, they are sacred and secular, secular and sacred.

In our own family lives, we go back to the houses we were born in or where our parents or grandparents were born or lived. If we can’t get inside those houses, those houses get inside us and we walk around them in our minds’ eyes.

We go back to where our parents brought us on holidays, walk the beaches, remember the childhood experiences, try to explain them to our children and grandchildren. I do … I even went back some years ago to that beach in Ballinskelligs I so happily remember from 60 years ago – for that World Cup final seen in a convent parlour, and for Franny and Zooey’s introduction to The Way of a Pilgrim and the Jesus Prayer.

We go back to our old schools, no matter what we thought of them then or think of them today.

We go back to see where we were brought to our first football matches, the pubs where we had our first drink, we long wistfully for the cinemas we knew as children, the shops whose windows we once gazed at, smile inwardly as we remember where we stole that first kiss. My visits to Venice or Portmeirion are less tourism and more like architectural pilgrims.

Those of you are married or still married probably go back occasionally to or remember with fondness where you first met, where you were married, where you went on honeymoon, where you had your first home. Yet they also become visits marked by pain and sorrow, or regret and penitence, for those who are widowed or divorced.

Not all pilgrimages are filled with joyful, promise and sweet memory. You may know of the painful stories of the ‘Mother and Baby’ homes and ‘Magdalene Laundries’ in Ireland. Whenever I have written about places such as the former Good Shepherd Convent in Limerick or Dunboyne Castle, I become aware of how many of those women, their children and their grandchildren want to visit and revisit them, because, with all the pain and inhumanity, this is where they were born or formed and made who they are today.

These family and social visits are not just secular pilgrimages, they are spiritual too. They break down the barriers between the profane and the sacred, for these are the places where we were made, and we are made in the image and likeness of God. These pilgrimages have their sacred value too. They are, as we should affirm, incarnational. For in the incarnation, Christ tears down the barriers we set up between the sacred and secular.

In that story of darkness and light in the Gospel reading the Sunday before last (John 3: 1-17, Lent III, 1 March 2026), we were told of our birth and reminded that ‘God so loved the cosmos’ – not the world, not merely humanity, still less ‘man’ – ‘God so loved the cosmos that he gave his only Son, so that everyone (aside: let’s emphasise everyone) … may have eternal life’ (verse 16).

That Pythagorean concept of the cosmos implies that we are created, nurtured, brought into existence within the womb of God. And God then turns that around in the incarnation when God becomes flesh in the human womb. We are made in the image and likeness of God, then God is made in our image and likeness. We could say, in a deep and very true sense, humanity is God’s own pilgrimage.

We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.

(TS Eliot, ‘Little Gidding’)

The Jesus Prayer … an image from Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

‘We are pilgrims on a journey’

I have spent the last two weeks in Malaysia, travelling there and back through Oman in the Gulf. I was aware in both places how Ramadan and Lent overlap significantly this year. For Muslims, Pilgrimage, like Ramadan, is one of the five pillars of Islam. But as Christians, do we give pilgrimage the same value, imperative, significance it has for Muslims?

It is wonderful to be here. But we should not make pilgrimage too difficult for people in their everyday, sacred secular lives. We are all pilgrims in this life, not just in our own lives but sharing in God’s pilgrimage in humanity.

I am reminded of Richard Gillard’s lyrics in ‘The Servant Song’:

Will you let me be your servant,
let me be as Christ to you;
pray that I may have the grace
to let you be my servant too.

We are pilgrims on a journey,
we are trav’lers on the road;
we are here to help each other
walk the mile and bear the load.

I will weep when you are weeping;
when you laugh, I’ll laugh with you.
I will share your joy and sorrow
’til we’ve seen this journey through.

We make – or we are invited to make – that pilgrimage every Sunday to the holy mountain, to Mount Tabor, when we meet Christ present for us in Word, in Sacrament, and in the Body of Christ, the living and holy members of the Church.

Κύριε Ἰησοῦ Χριστέ, Υἱὲ Θεοῦ, ἐλέησόν με τὸν ἁμαρτωλό
Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, the sinner

At the Eucharist in the Chapel of Saint John’s Hospital, Lichfield (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Possible asides or added conversation points:

One pilgrimage I am not making this year – the World Cup in the US

JD Salinger and Anne Frank, a conjoint introduction to Jewish spirituality as well as connection to Jesus Prayer

These notes were prepared for the Ecumenical Marian Pilgrimage Trust, 10-13 March 2026, with the support of the Fellowship of St Alban and St Sergius and the Society of St John Chrysostom

I return to Lichfield, constantly, as that first place where I became me, realised who I was made to be (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Saint Tikhon of Mount Athos, a key figure in modern Orthodox spirituality, has been recognised as a saint

Alexandra Kauoki working on a new icon of Saint Tikhon in Retymnon in Crete

Patrick Comerford

The Ecumenical Patriarchate announced ;ast week that that the Holy and Sacred Synod under the presidency of Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew has decided unanimously to include two monks of Mount Athos in the canon of saints of the Church: Elder Tikhon, who lived an ascetic life at the Holy Stavronikita Cell of the Precious Cross in the Skete of Kapsala, attached to Stavronikita; and Father George, also known as Hadji-Georgis, who was from Cappadocia and died in Constantinople.

The two Athonite monks were canonised last week (11 February). I first learned of the life of the saintly Athonite monk Saint Tikhon on courses in Sidney Sussex College, Cambridge, organised by the Institute for Orthodox Christian Studies, which is now based at Jesus College, and during visits to Saint John’s Monastery in Tolleshunt Knights, Essex.

Saint Tikhon is one of the key influential thinkers in Orthodox spirituality in recent decades, and his biography by Saint Paisos has introduced him to theologians and spiritual writers far beyond the Orthodox world.

Saint Tikhon was born Timotheos Golenkov in 1884 in the village of Novaya Mikhailovka, in present-day Volgograd in Russia, into a devout family. From a young age he wanted to dedicate his life to God. Despite his parents’ concerns, he went on pilgrimages to more than 200 monasteries throughout Russia, then to Mount Sinai and the Holy Land, and finally settled on Mount Athos at the age of 24.

He received the monastic tonsure with the name Tikhon in the cell of Saint Nicholas at Burazeri, near Karyes. For 15 years, he lived an ascetic life in Karoulia, an area in the extreme south end of Mount Athos that is known for its wilderness, harsh conditions, and the austere life of its hermits.

He then moved to one of the cells of Stavronikita Monastery at Kapsala, where his humility and asceticism led many people to seek him out for advice and spiritual consolation. He eventually agreed to be ordained a priest so he could offer sacramental confession as a father-confessor. He continued to live a life of humility and prayer, especially the Jesus Prayer, and built a small church in honour of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross.

He usually celebrated the Divine Liturgy every Sunday, though he always kept the Precious Gifts in his cell and took Communion daily. It is said that during the Liturgy people would see the his face transformed, and his eyes seemed to be radiating light in the dark. He frequently visited Esphigmenou Monastery to hear the confessions of the monks there.

Some of Saint Tikhon’s sayings include:

‘Good habits are virtues, and bad habits are passions.’

‘Let a monk not connect with animals because they will win his mind and heart and the monk will waste his love on animals instead of giving it wholeheartedly to God.’

‘The prayer, Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy upon me! is the pure wheat.’

‘A good, obedient monk will be able to acquire the habit of unceasingly repeating the Jesus Prayer.’

‘If you don’t exercise caution while reading the Gospel, you may fall into delusion like Origen.’

‘Better three prostrations with humility than 1,000 prostrations with arrogance. Only humility will save us! Few people have acquired humility of mind and it is almost impossible to find them!’

Saint Tikhon lived his final days lived in seclusion, alone and in complete devotion to prayer. He is known particularly as the spiritual father of Saint Paisios (1924-1994), and had a profound influence on his spiritual formation of his spiritual path.

Saint Paisios received the Great and Angelic Schema from Saint Tikhon at the Hermitage of the Holy Cross, of the monastery of Stavronikita on 11 January 1966. Saint Tikhon died on 10/23 September 1968. Saint Paisios, who was with Father Tikhon in his last days, buried him, became his successor in his hermitage cell, and later wrote his life, which was published after Saint Paisios’s death, emphasising Saint Tikhon’s humility and holiness.

Wider interest in Saint Tikhon has grown since the canonisation of Saint Paisios the Athonite, his most famous disciple, in 2015. But in recent years, Russian church and state authorities have tried to use the memory of Saint Tikhon in their continuing attacks on the Ecumenical Patriarchate.

The Russian Justice Minister, Alexander Konovalov, supported an initiative within the Russian Church to canonise Saint Tikhon as a saint of the Russian Orthodox Church. He claimed, ‘In 1,000 years of the presence of Russian monks on Mount Athos, only one of the Russian ascetics has been glorified by the Church of Constantinople – Saint Silouan the Athonite.’

However, the Ecumenical Patriarchate alone is responsible for canonising a monk of Mount Athos. Indeed, the Church and the Holy Mountain of Athos are not concerned whether someone is Greek, Romanian or Russian, and are concerned only whether someone is a saint, and has canonised Saint Silouan the Athonite, Saint Sophrony (Sakharov), who founded the monastic community of Saint John the Baptist in Essex, and now Sait Tikhon.

Saint Paisios of Mount Athos, who was born Arsenios Eznepides in Cappadocia, was canonised by the Holy Synod of the Ecumenical Patriarchate on 13 January 2015. He was the biographer of Elder Hadji-Georgis the Athonite, who was also canonised last week (11 February 2026).

During the past week or so, my friend the iconographer Alexandra Kauoki has been working in Retymnon in Crete on a new icon of Saint Tikhon in advance of his canonisation, including the halo. On the day of his canonisation, she said: «Άγιε Τύχων, πρέσβευε υπέρ όλου του κόσμου», ‘Saint Tikhon, intercede for the whole world.’

Daily prayer in Ordinary Time 2025: 167, Sunday 26 October 2025, the Last Sunday after Trinity

The Pharisee and the Publican (Luke 18: 9-14) … a window in Saint Michael’s Church, Limerick (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Patrick Comerford

We are continuing in Ordinary Time in the Church Calendar, and today is the Last Sunday after Trinity, or the Nineteenth Sunday after Trinity. In the calendar of the Church of England, this week leads into the period between All Saints’ Day and the First Sunday of Advent is observed as Kingdomtide or the Kingdom Season.

The Last Sunday after Trinity may be observed in some churches or parishes as Bible Sunday or as the Dedication Festival.

In the calendar of the Greek Orthodox Church, today is the feast day of Saint Dimitrios of Thessaloniki (Άγιος Δημήτριος της Θεσσαλονίκης), one of the most popular saints and martyrs in Greece. Before the day begins, before having breakfast, I am taking some quiet time early this morning to give thanks, and for reflection, prayer and reading in these ways:

1, today’s Gospel reading;

2, a short reflection;

3, a prayer from the USPG prayer diary;

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

An icon of the Pharisee and the Publican … who was good at praying, and who was a model for praying?

Luke 18: 9-14 (NRSVA):

9 He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt: 10 ‘Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax-collector. 11 The Pharisee, standing by himself, was praying thus, “God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax-collector. 12 I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income.” 13 But the tax-collector, standing far off, would not even look up to heaven, but was beating his breast and saying, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!” 14 I tell you, this man went down to his home justified rather than the other; for all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted.’

Today’s Reflection:

The Jesus Prayer … an image from Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Today’s Reflection:

Κύριε Ἰησοῦ Χριστέ,
Υἱὲ Θεοῦ,
ἐλέησόν με τὸν ἁμαρτωλό

Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, the sinner

The Jesus Prayer, in its simplicity and clarity, is rooted in a prayer heard in this morning’s Gospel reading at the Eucharist (Luke 18: 9-14) and three other passages in Saint Luke’s Gospel:

• the cry of the ten lepers who called to him, ‘Jesus, Master, take pity on us’ (Luke 17: 13);
• the cry for mercy of the publican, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner’ (Luke 18: 14); • the cry of the blind man at the side of the road near Jericho, ‘Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me’ (Luke 18: 38);
• the sentiments of the cry of the penitent thief on the cross (Luke 23: 42).

The parable of the Pharisee and the Publican and their prayers is an interesting way to examine our own approaches to prayer. Christ teaches his Disciples a variety of approaches to prayer, giving them examples of prayer with the Lord’s Prayer, and examples of how others pray: the Prodigal Son’s father who prays for his son every day; the persistent widow who keeps on badgering the unjust judge every day; and this morning’s Gospel reading, which presents us with two different approaches to prayer, public and private.

But perhaps we can we can be too quick to say that we are presented with one good example and one bad example.

Both the Pharisee and the Publican prays for himself. Each bares himself before God.

The Pharisee gives thanks to God. In fact, by all the current standards of and means of measuring Jewish piety, he is a good man. Consider what he tells God and us about himself.

First of all, he thanks God that he is not like other people. The Morning Prayer for Orthodox Jewish men, to this day, includes a prayer with these words: ‘Blessed art thou, O Lord our God, King of the Universe, who hast not made me a gentile, … a slave, … a woman.’

Thanking God that I am not like others is not an expression of disdain for others; it is merely another, humble way of thanking God for being made the way we are, in God’s image and likeness. The Pharisee’s prayer is not unusual.

The Pharisee then goes on to tell God that he obeys all the commandments: he prays, he fasts and he tithes – in fact, he tithes more than he has to, and perhaps also fasts more often than he has to – and he gives generously to the poor. He more than meets all the requirements laid on him by the Mosaic law, and he goes beyond that. He is a charitable, kind and faithful man.

Anyone who saw him in the Temple and heard him pray would have gone away saying he was a good man, and a spiritual man.

But, despite attending to his responsibilities towards others, the Pharisee in this parable does not pray for the needs of others, in so far as we are allowed to eavesdrop on his prayers.

But then, neither does the publican pray for the needs of others.

So neither man is condemned for not being heard to pray for the needs of the other.

What marks the prayers of the Pharisee out from the prayers of the publican is that, in his prayers, the Pharisee expresses his disdain for the needs of others.

The parable of the Pharisee and the Publican is also a reminder that at times people may think that because they have sinned they should not pray.

But the story of the Pharisee (apparently good) and the Publican (apparently bad), tells us that the Pharisee prayed easily, while the publican could not even lift his eyes to heaven. Instead, the publican smote his breast and prayed: ‘Lord, be merciful to me a sinner.’

Christ tells us it was the publican who ‘returned home justified’ not the Pharisee.

The publican wants to pray even when he feels guilty of sin.

We do not have to wait until we feel righteous, like the Pharisee, so that we can pray. Such prayer is almost useless. I know I can all too easily pray the Jesus Prayer, ‘Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me the sinner,’ and pray it all the more readily when I am feeling righteous than when I realise I am a sinner.

The error of the Pharisee is to confuse the means with the end. Acts of virtue or piety are meant to dispose our hearts towards communion with God, not turn us in on ourselves. As Metropolitan Anthony Bloom wrote: ‘From the [Pharisee] learn his works, but by no means his pride; for the work by itself means nothing and does not save.’

Religious feelings can be deceptive in the extreme. When I think I feel like praying, I may in fact be feeling ‘pious,’ and I may not be ready to pray at this stage. Instead, I may be preparing to be self-consumed and self-congratulatory about being a pious person of prayer.

John Betjeman’s most savage satire is ‘In Westminster Abbey.’ This poem 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 chauvinistic nationalist, 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 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 her nation’s spiritual sickness. But she lets God know prayer and her relationship with God are low down her list of priorities:

Let me take this other glove off
As the vox humana swells,
And the beauteous fields of Eden
Bask beneath the Abbey bells.
Here, where England’s statesmen lie,
Listen to a lady’s cry.

Gracious Lord, oh bomb the Germans,
Spare their women for Thy Sake,
And if that is not too easy
We will pardon Thy Mistake.
But, gracious Lord, whate’er shall be,
Don’t let anyone bomb me.

Keep our Empire undismembered
Guide our Forces by Thy Hand,
Gallant blacks from far Jamaica,
Honduras and Togoland;
Protect them Lord in all their fights,
And, even more, protect the whites.

Think of what our Nation stands for,
Books from Boots’ and country lanes,
Free speech, free passes, class distinction,
Democracy and proper drains.
Lord, put beneath Thy special care
One-eighty-nine Cadogan Square.

Although dear Lord I am a sinner,
I have done no major crime;
Now I’ll come to Evening Service
Whensoever I have the time.
So, Lord, reserve for me a crown,
And do not let my shares go down.

I will labour for Thy Kingdom,
Help our lads to win the war,
Send white feathers to the cowards
Join the Women’s Army Corps,
Then wash the steps around Thy Throne
In the Eternal Safety Zone.

Now I feel a little better,
What a treat to hear Thy Word,
Where the bones of leading statesmen
Have so often been interr’d.
And now, dear Lord, I cannot wait
Because I have a luncheon date.

On the other hand, when I feel like the Publican in our parable, then I can pray like a Publican. Throughout the Church, parishioners protest, ‘I cannot take Communion … lead the intercession … serve at the altar today, because I do not feel worthy.’ But surely I am in much greater danger when I do feel worthy.

When does someone ever say, ‘I have been so good this week I have not felt in the least like a sinner, and this is a great sin and deception?’ Now we would be getting somewhere with prayer!

The 19th century Russian, Saint John of Kronstadt (1829-1902), writes: ‘When the foolish thought of counting up any of your good works enters into your head, immediately correct your fault and rather count up your sins, your continual and innumerable offences against the All-Merciful and Righteous Master, and you will find that their number is as the sand of the sea, whilst your virtues in comparison with them are as nothing.’

What ever happened to the Publican or the tax-collector afterwards?

We are not told his name. We are not told where he lived. We are not told how he lived.

Did he ever put into practice what he was praying for? Asking for mercy, receiving mercy, giving mercy?

In moments when I allow my imagination to run away with itself, and with me, I like to ask whether this is the same tax collector as Zacchaeus who appears in the Gospel reading next Sunday, 2 November (Luke 19: 1-10), if it is marked as the Fourth Sunday before Advent rather than All Saints’ Sunday.

The Pharisee this morning lists all he does: he fasts twice a week; he gives a tenth of all his income (verse 12). Zacchaeus has a profound change of heart, and decides to give away half of his possessions to the poor and to repay four-fold what he has squeezed out of anyone unjustly (Luke 19: 8).

Prayer leads us to God, but prayer that does not lead us to love our neighbour is prayer that is dead.

We need to be people who pray like a publican. We will find so many more times available for prayer if we do. But we should pray for those who are praying like a Pharisee too, so that God may free us from our delusions.

‘In Westminster Abbey’ by John Betjeman is a dramatic monologue that retells one part of the parable of the Pharisee and the Publican (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Today’s Prayers (Sunday 26 October 2025):

The theme this week (26 October to 1 November) in Pray with the World Church, the prayer diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), is ‘Bonds of Affection’ (pp 50-51). This theme is introduced today with reflections from Rachel Weller, Communications Officer, USPG, who writes:

What do clergy in the UK and India have in common? What are the differences? And how might this unity in diversity inspire both groups?

These were the questions that inspired the Revd James Dwyer, Vicar at Christ Church Flackwell Heath in the UK, to come up with the idea of clergy fellowship through USPG’s ‘Bonds of Affection’ initiative. The idea of creating an online group between clergy in the UK and India emerged after a visit to the Diocese of Nandyal, Church of South India and a series of enriching conversations at the 2024 USPG conference. The aim is to deepen relationships between clergy across these regions, recognising the wealth of mutual learning in areas such as theology, ecclesiology, and missiology. The concept of Bonds of Affection reflects a shared care, compassion, and a desire to unite around God’s work.

Moving forward, the focus for Bonds of Affection will be on listening and learning to create a space where theological discussions, missional insights, pastoral care, and prayer will come alive. While meetings will begin online, we’re dreaming big for in-person gatherings in the future – whether at USPG conferences or an incredible UK-India exchange – to build even stronger bonds of fellowship.

The USPG Prayer Diary today (Sunday 26 October 2025) invites us to pray by reading and meditating on Luke 4: 16-24, the Gospel reading for Bible Sunday.

The Collect:

Blessed Lord,
who caused all holy Scriptures to be written for our learning:
help us so to hear them,
to read, mark, learn and inwardly digest them
that, through patience, and the comfort of your holy word,
we may embrace and for ever hold fast
the hope of everlasting life,
which you have given us in our Saviour Jesus Christ,
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.

The Post Communion Prayer:

God of all grace,
your Son Jesus Christ fed the hungry
with the bread of his life
and the word of his kingdom:
renew your people with your heavenly grace,
and in all our weakness
sustain us by your true and living bread;
who is alive and reigns, now and for ever.

Additional Collect:

Merciful God,
teach us to be faithful in change and uncertainty,
that trusting in your word
and obeying your will
we may enter the unfailing joy of Jesus Christ our Lord.

Yesterday’s Reflections

Continued Tomorrow

Double espressos in Bettystown, Co Meath … who would you prefer to have coffee with this morning, the Pharisee pr the Publican? (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 Dimitrios of Thessaloniki … an icon by Alexandra Kaouki of Rethymnon (© Alexandra Kaouki, 2022)

The monks of Mount Sinai have closed Saint Catherine’s Monastery to protest at a court ruling threatening their future

The monks of Saint Catherine’s Monastery on Mount Sinai have closed their gates to all visitors following an Egyptian court ruling last week (Photograph: Friends of Mount Sinai)

Patrick Comerford

The monks of Saint Catherine’s Monastery on Mount Sinai have closed their gates to all visitors in a symbolic act of protest following an Egyptian court ruling last week that threatens the future of the monastery.

According to Greek news reports yesterday, the monastic community of about 20 monks has resolved to remain in seclusion, mourning and praying for the monastery’s protection, and is giving no timeline for reopening.

There is a swelling tide of concern across the Orthodox world and in Greek-speaking community around the world about the future of Saint Catherine’s Monastery on Mount Sinai following a disturbing ruling last week by a court in Egypt that appears to threaten the survival of the world’s oldest continually-inhabited Christian monastery.

Saint Catherine’s Monastery was founded in the Sinai Peninsula in the sixth century by Byzantine Emperor Justinian I. It is a Unesco World Heritage Site, known for its ancient manuscripts and icons and revered in all three major monotheistic faiths, Judaism, Christianity and Islam.

It was there God spoke to Moses through the Burning Bush and gave him the Ten Commandments; it was there Elijah hid in a crag in the rock; and it was there, Muslims believe, Muhammad was a visiting trader prior to the beginnings of Islam, perhaps even visiting Saint Catherine’s Monastery. It said the monastery was granted a letter of protection from Muhammad in the seventh century and this was reaffirmed by the Ottoman Sultan Selim II in the 16th century.

In recent days, Orthodox leaders around the world have reacted with alarm and the Greek government has spoken out strongly after an Egyptian court ruling last week (28 May). The ruling threatens the monastery’s autonomy and its future and raises fears that Saint Catherine’s could be seized by the state and the monks evicted, and fears for religious freedom in Egypt.

With President Mary McAleese welcoming a group of Egyptian Christian and Muslim leaders to at Áras an Uachtaráin in Dublin in 2006

I was a guest on Mount Sinai when I visited Egypt several times while I was working on a programme on Christian-Muslim dialogue about 20 years ago. During those visits, I met Christian and Muslim leaders throughout Egypt, wrote for The Irish Times on the monastery’s library. I have stayed in Cairo, where I walked by the Nile and visited the pyramids and the Sphinx; Alexandria, where the dogmatic debates helped produce the Creeds, Saint Catherine’s Monastery on Mount Sinai; and in monasteries in the Western Desert associated with the Desert Fathers.

Perhaps one of the most unusual experiences during those visits was to preside at the Eucharist at dawn at the top of Mount Sinai with a small group, celebrating with bread and wine taken from the dinner table the night before in Saint Catherine’s Monastery.

During those years, I arranged a visit by Irish bishops to meet Christian and Muslim leaders in Egypt, and reciprocal visits to Ireland that included visits to Aras an Uachtaráin and the Chester Beatty Library, a reception in the Egyptian Embassy, events in Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin, the chapel in Trinity College Dublin, and the Irish Islamic Centre in Clonskeagh. In all those exchanges, my work was facilitated and encouraged by the Egyptian embassy in Dublin and the Irish, British and Vatican embassies in Cairo, Egyptian church leaders of all traditions, and the offices of the secretary general of the Arab League.

Of course, interfaith relations and religious freedoms were not perfect in Egypt in those days. But they were an example of how they could be worked on, nurtured and encourage. So, I too am disturbed by last week’s ruling and the way its reopens questions about the vulnerability of religious heritage sites in Egypt and religious freedom for both Muslims and Christians.

A court in Sinai has ruled that the state owns Mount Sinai as public property (Photograph: Archons of the Ecumenical Patriarchate)

A court in Sinai ruled last Wednesday in a land dispute between the monastery and the South Sinai governorate, declaring that the monastery ‘is entitled to use’ the land and the archaeological religious sites in the area, all of which ‘the state owns as public property’.

The ruling by the South Sinai Court of First Instance allows for the registration of monastery land in the name of the Egyptian government. The monastery tried to register its land independently in 2012, and submitted documents showing ownership dating back centuries, including the Ottoman decree. But the court ruled that all that evidence is insufficient. The Egyptian General Authority for Land Survey applied in 2021 to register the land as government property, and this request was upheld by the court last week.

The ruling comes in the midst of a controversial government development project is underway to boost visitor numbers to the area, which is popular with both pilgrims and adventure tourists. The area includes a town named after the monastery and a nature reserve. Observers say the project has harmed the ecosystem of the nature reserve and threatens both the monastery and the local community.

The court has effectively turned the area over to the state and the ruling leaves the monastery and the 18-20 monks who live there as tenants at will of the government of the day. The monastic community now fears it is on the brink of eviction and that the entire Sinai Brotherhood is now seen as squatters, disregarding their 15-century presence there.

In a phone conversation on Friday with Greek Prime Minister, Kyriakos Mitsotakis, President Abdel Fattah al-Sisi of Egypt said Cairo is ‘fully committed to preserving the unique and sacred religious status of Saint Catherine’s monastery, and ensuring it is not violated.’

The Egyptian Foreign Ministry said rumours of confiscation were ‘completely unfounded’ and denied any change to the monastery’s legal or spiritual status, saying it ‘does not touch the monastery’s spiritual value, religious significance, or the cemeteries associated with it’. It said the ruling ‘preserves the special and sacred status of the monastery.’

But these responses fail to indicate whether the president and the government accept the monastery and its lands are owned by the monastic community of Saint Catherine’s.

The Greek Prime Minister’s office said Mr Mitsotakis emphasised the importance of ‘preserving the pilgrimage and Greek Orthodox character of the monastery and resolving the issue in an institutional manner’, based on an agreement between the two countries.

Archbishop Damianos of Sinai, Pharan, and Raitho, and Abbot of the Holy Monastery of Saint Catherine at Mount Sinai (Photograph: Holy Monastery of Saint Catherine)

In a telephone interview from Cairo at the weekend with the National Herald in Boston, Archbishop Damianos of Sinai, Pharan, and Raitho, and Abbot of the Holy Monastery of Saint Catherine at Mount Sinai, spoke about the recent developments at the monastery.

Archbishop Damianos said: ‘For over ten years now, we have been in and out of court, because our right of ownership over this barren land – which we always considered ours, handed down to us by sanctified individuals – is being denied … These are holy places visited by people from around the world, from which the Egyptian government benefits; yet they do not wish to recognise them as our property.’

The Ecumenical Patriarchate in Constantinople has called on the Egyptian government and President Sisi to maintain the status quo of Saint Catherine’s Monastery. In a statement last Friday, the Ecumenical Patriarchate said it was ‘disappointed and saddened’ by the ruling and called on the Egyptian government to respect long-standing traditions agreements on Saint Catherine’s Monastery ‘where God once spoke to humankind’.

The Greek Orthodox Patriarchate of Jerusalem has said it is ‘deeply troubled’ and reasserted its jurisdiction over and protection of the monastery.

Archbishop Ieronymos II of Athens said the court ruling is ‘scandalous’ and a ‘violent infringement of human and religious rights’ by the Egyptian judicial authorities. He has warned that the monastery’s property would now be ‘seized and confiscated’ despite ‘recent pledges to the contrary’ by Sisi to Mitsotakis. He added: ‘The property of the monastery is being seized and confiscated, and this spiritual lighthouse of Orthodoxy and Hellenism is now facing a question of real survival.’

A copy of the earliest icon from Mount Sinai in the chapel of the Church of Ireland Theological Institute in Dublin (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Despite the rapid growth of tourism in Egypt and the development of resorts such as Sharm el-Sheikh, the Sinai Peninsula has long been a remote region. It takes six or seven hours to travel from Cairo to Saint Catherine’s at the foot of Mount Sinai, and for generations the Sinai Desert remained the wilderness it must have been when the Children of Israel trekked through here for 40 years after they fled from slavery in Egypt and crossed the Red Sea.

Saint Catherine’s Monastery, dating to the fourth century, is the principal tourist attraction in the desert. As a spiritual centre, Saint Catherine’s is a pivotal place in the development of Orthodox spirituality:

• the first Christian icons may have been produced in the fourth century, and the earliest surviving icons, found in Saint Catherine’s Monastery on Mount Sinai, date from the sixth or seventh century;

• Saint John Klimakos, a monk of Mount Sinai who died in the year 606 CE, has been strongly influential on theology, spirituality and iconography through The Ladder of Divine Ascent, a spiritual classic in which he recommends the use of the Jesus Prayer.

• the tradition of iconography from Mount Sinai and Crete strongly influenced Western art after Michael Damaskinos and his pupil El Greco moved from Crete to Italy in the 16th century.

‘We have three types of tourists visiting us,’ the monastery’s abbot, Archbishop Damianos once told the Greek journal Odyssey. ‘There are the devout, there are art lovers who came to see our treasures, and then there are the worst kind – those who come because they consider a daytrip to Saint Catherine’s to be the cultural part of their beach holiday.’

For many visitors, the monastery is the starting point for a daunting three-hour climb to the 600-metre summit of Mount Sinai. The daily trek, led by Bedouin camel drivers, sets off before 3 a.m. so climbers on the rough, steep path are saved from the burning sun. Later in the day – until this week’s closure – the monastery has been open to tourists for only 2½ hours, from 9:30 to noon, and it has remained closed on Fridays, Sundays and all Greek Orthodox holidays.

An old print of Saint Catherine’s Monastery I once had in the Rectory in Askeaton, Co Limerick (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

In this remote corner of the Christendom, the monks of Saint Catherine’s continue to value the desert silence but they have also acquired some of the benefits of 21st-century technology.

The most visible legacy of the Desert Fathers at Saint Catherine’s is a unique library and collection of icons, textiles and religious artefacts. The Icon Gallery includes rare sixth-century icons that survived the ravages of the iconoclast controversy in the eighth and ninth centuries. The library includes 3,500 bound manuscripts, 2,000 scrolls and fragments, and more than 5,000 early printed books, of an age and linguistic diversity matched only by the Vatican Library.

In the monastery library, Father Justin told me how the most valued treasure was once the Codex Sinaiticus, dating from the fourth century. It was ‘borrowed’ in 1865 by a visiting German scholar, Constantin Tischendorf, who promptly presented it to the Tsar; Stalin sold it for £100,00 to Britain in 1933, and the codex now rests in the British Museum. Half a century ago, 15 missing folios were found in the monastery’s north wall in 1975, leaving the monks with part of the oldest existing copy of the New Testament.

One of the copies of the ‘achitames’ with the imprint of Muhammad’s hand, guaranteeing the protection of Saint Catherine’s Monastery under Islamic rule

Father Justin also showed me one of the copies in the library of the achitames or document with the imprint of Muhammad’s hand, guaranteeing the protection of Saint Catherine’s Monastery under Islamic rule. In the year 635 CE, the monks of Mount Sinai sent a delegation asking for Muhammad’s patronage and protection. The request was granted and was honoured when the Muslims conquered the Sinai in the year 641 CE.

Later, in 1009, the mad Caliph al-Hakim built a mosque within the monastery walls, with an unusual qibla pointing towards Jerusalem rather than Mecca as the direction for prayer. The monks continue to keep open the only mosque to survive within the walls of a monastery, and Father Justin described it as one of the ‘many examples of tolerance, respect and affection’ between Christians and Muslims in Egypt.

The monks admit they would find it difficult to survive without the support and kindness of their local Muslim neighbours. The local Bedouin, from the tiny Jabiliyya tribe, claim descent from 200 Greek soldiers brought by the Emperor Justinian from Alexandria and Thrace to fortify and guard the monastery in the sixth century.

Although they are Muslims, Father Justin told me how they join in many of the monastery festivals and look to the abbot, who is also Archbishop of Sinai, as their community leader, protector, judge, and even as their ‘grandfather’.

He spoke of the support of international donors, the Metropolitan Museum in New York and the Courtauld Institute in London, have helped the monks to develop a programme of refurbishment and conservation in the library.

Father Justin pointed out that without this outside help, the resources of the monastery would have been overwhelmed by the task of safeguarding its treasures. The droves of tourists may disturb the morning peace of one of the most isolated monasteries in the world, but the west’s generosity has brought benefits too.

The Church of Saint Catherine of Sinai is now the Museum of Christian Art in Iraklion (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)

The Church of Sinai is the smallest self-governing Christian denomination in Egypt – its few members include Archbishop Damianos, who is also the Abbot of Mount Sinai, and the 20-25 monks who come mainly from Mount Athos and other parts of Greece. In addition, there are some small dependencies nearby, and four dependencies of Mount Sinai in Greece.

Archbishop Damianos has lived at the monastery since the age of 27, and he was 91 last weekend, just days after the court ruling.

When I was in Crete for Easter in April, I visited two churches in Iraklion that have been traditional dependences of Mount Sinai: Saint Catherine’s Church, now the Museum of Christian Art; and the mediaeval Byzantine Church of Saint Matthew of the Sinaites. The Institute for Orthodox Christian Studies, where I have studied in Cambridge, is also under the patronage of Saint Catherine.

An icon of Saint Catherine of Alexandria was one of five or six icons I had on the wall above my desk when I was on the staff of the Church of Ireland Theological Institute in Dublin.

Archbishop Damianos, who is in Cairo, plans to return to Athens within the coming days, while an official Greek delegation is expected in to visit Egypt this week. The monks plan to launch a global awareness campaign, appealing to Christian churches and other religious communities.

Meanwhile, it is important that they receive messages of support from religious leaders around the world, and that Egyptian embassies are made aware of the concerns and feelings of people everywhere.

Daily prayer in Lent 2025: 25, Saturday 29 March 2025

The Pharisee and the Publican (Luke 18: 9-14) … a stained glass window in Saint Michael’s Church, Limerick (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Patrick Comerford

We have passed the half-way point in Lent, and tomorrow is the Fourth Sunday in Lent (Lent IV) and Mothering Sunday or Mothers’ Day.

Before today begins, I am taking some quiet time this morning to give thanks, to reflect, to pray and to read in these ways:

1, reading today’s Gospel reading;

2, a short reflection;

3, a prayer from the USPG prayer diary;

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

An icon of the Pharisee and the Publican … who was good at praying, and who was a model for praying?

Luke 18: 9-14 (NRSVA):

9 He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt: 10 ‘Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax-collector. 11 The Pharisee, standing by himself, was praying thus, “God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax-collector. 12 I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income.” 13 But the tax-collector, standing far off, would not even look up to heaven, but was beating his breast and saying, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!” 14 I tell you, this man went down to his home justified rather than the other; for all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted.’

Today’s Reflection:

The Jesus Prayer … an image from Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Today’s Reflection:

Κύριε Ἰησοῦ Χριστέ,
Υἱὲ Θεοῦ,
ἐλέησόν με τὸν ἁμαρτωλό

Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, the sinner

The Jesus Prayer, in its simplicity and clarity, is rooted in a prayer heard in this morning’s Gospel reading at the Eucharist (Luke 18: 9-14) and three other passages in Saint Luke’s Gospel:

• the cry of the ten lepers who called to him, ‘Jesus, Master, take pity on us’ (Luke 17: 13);
• the cry for mercy of the publican, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner’ (Luke 18: 14);
• the cry of the blind man at the side of the road near Jericho, ‘Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me’ (Luke 18: 38);
• the sentiments of the cry of the penitent thief on the cross (Luke 23: 42).

The parable of the Pharisee and the Publican and their prayers is an interesting way to examine our own approaches to prayer. Christ teaches his Disciples a variety of approaches to prayer, giving them examples of prayer with the Lord’s Prayer, and examples of how others pray: the Prodigal Son’s father who prays for his son every day; the persistent widow who keeps on badgering the unjust judge every day; and this morning’s Gospel reading, which presents us with two different approaches to prayer, public and private.

But perhaps we can we can be too quick to say that we are presented with one good example and one bad example.

Both the Pharisee and the Publican prays for himself. Each bares himself before God.

The Pharisee gives thanks to God. In fact, by all the current standards of and means of measuring Jewish piety, he is a good man. Consider what he tells God and us about himself.

First of all, he thanks God that he is not like other people. The Morning Prayer for Orthodox Jewish men, to this day, includes a prayer with these words: ‘Blessed art thou, O Lord our God, King of the Universe, who hast not made me a gentile, … a slave, … a woman.’

Thanking God that I am not like others is not an expression of disdain for others; it is merely another, humble way of thanking God for being made the way we are, in God’s image and likeness. The Pharisee’s prayer is not unusual.

The Pharisee then goes on to tell God that he obeys all the commandments: he prays, he fasts and he tithes – in fact, he tithes more than he has to, and perhaps also fasts more often than he has to – and he gives generously to the poor. He more than meets all the requirements laid on him by the Mosaic law, and he goes beyond that. He is a charitable, kind and faithful man.

Anyone who saw him in the Temple and heard him pray would have gone away saying he was a good man, and a spiritual man.

But, despite attending to his responsibilities towards others, the Pharisee in this parable does not pray for the needs of others, in so far as we are allowed to eavesdrop on his prayers.

But then, neither does the publican pray for the needs of others.

So neither man is condemned for not being heard to pray for the needs of the other.

What marks the prayers of the Pharisee out from the prayers of the publican is that, in his prayers, the Pharisee expresses his disdain for the needs of others.

The parable of the Pharisee and the Publican is also a reminder that at times people may think that because they have sinned they should not pray.

But the story of the Pharisee (apparently good) and the Publican (apparently bad), tells us that the Pharisee prayed easily, while the publican could not even lift his eyes to heaven. Instead, the publican smote his breast and prayed: ‘Lord, be merciful to me a sinner.’

Christ tells us it was the publican who ‘returned home justified’ not the Pharisee.

The publican wants to pray even when he feels guilty of sin.

We do not have to wait until we feel righteous, like the Pharisee, so that we can pray. Such prayer is almost useless. I know I can all too easily pray the Jesus Prayer, ‘Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me the sinner,’ and pray it all the more readily when I am feeling righteous than when I realise I am a sinner.

The error of the Pharisee is to confuse the means with the end. Acts of virtue or piety are meant to dispose our hearts towards communion with God, not turn us in on ourselves. As Metropolitan Anthony Bloom wrote: ‘From the [Pharisee] learn his works, but by no means his pride; for the work by itself means nothing and does not save.’

Religious feelings can be deceptive in the extreme. When I think I feel like praying, I may in fact be feeling ‘pious,’ and I may not be ready to pray at this stage. Instead, I may be preparing to be self-consumed and self-congratulatory about being a pious person of prayer.

John Betjeman’s most savage satire is ‘In Westminster Abbey.’ This poem 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 chauvinistic nationalist, 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 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 her nation’s spiritual sickness. But she lets God know prayer and her relationship with God are low down her list of priorities:

Let me take this other glove off
As the vox humana swells,
And the beauteous fields of Eden
Bask beneath the Abbey bells.
Here, where England’s statesmen lie,
Listen to a lady’s cry.

Gracious Lord, oh bomb the Germans,
Spare their women for Thy Sake,
And if that is not too easy
We will pardon Thy Mistake.
But, gracious Lord, whate’er shall be,
Don’t let anyone bomb me.

Keep our Empire undismembered
Guide our Forces by Thy Hand,
Gallant blacks from far Jamaica,
Honduras and Togoland;
Protect them Lord in all their fights,
And, even more, protect the whites.

Think of what our Nation stands for,
Books from Boots’ and country lanes,
Free speech, free passes, class distinction,
Democracy and proper drains.
Lord, put beneath Thy special care
One-eighty-nine Cadogan Square.

Although dear Lord I am a sinner,
I have done no major crime;
Now I’ll come to Evening Service
Whensoever I have the time.
So, Lord, reserve for me a crown,
And do not let my shares go down.

I will labour for Thy Kingdom,
Help our lads to win the war,
Send white feathers to the cowards
Join the Women’s Army Corps,
Then wash the steps around Thy Throne
In the Eternal Safety Zone.

Now I feel a little better,
What a treat to hear Thy Word,
Where the bones of leading statesmen
Have so often been interr’d.
And now, dear Lord, I cannot wait
Because I have a luncheon date.

On the other hand, when I feel like the Publican in our parable, then I can pray like a Publican. Throughout the Church, parishioners protest, ‘I cannot take Communion … lead the intercession … serve at the altar today, because I do not feel worthy.’ But surely I am in much greater danger when I do feel worthy.

When does someone ever say, ‘I have been so good this week I have not felt in the least like a sinner, and this is a great sin and deception?’ Now we would be getting somewhere with prayer!

The 19th century Russian, Saint John of Kronstadt (1829-1902), writes: ‘When the foolish thought of counting up any of your good works enters into your head, immediately correct your fault and rather count up your sins, your continual and innumerable offences against the All-Merciful and Righteous Master, and you will find that their number is as the sand of the sea, whilst your virtues in comparison with them are as nothing.’

What ever happened to the Publican or the tax-collector afterwards?

We are not told his name. We are not told where he lived. We are not told how he lived.

Did he ever put into practice what he was praying for? Asking for mercy, receiving mercy, giving mercy?

In moments when I allow my imagination to run away with itself, and with me, I like to ask whether this is the same tax collector as Zacchaeus who appears in the Gospel reading later this year (Luke 19: 1-10, the Fourth Sunday before Advent, 2 November 2025).

The Pharisee this morning lists all he does: he fasts twice a week; he gives a tenth of all his income (verse 12). Zacchaeus has a profound change of heart, and decides to give away half of his possessions to the poor and to repay four-fold what he has squeezed out of anyone unjustly (Luke 19: 8).

Prayer leads us to God, but prayer that does not lead us to love our neighbour is prayer that is dead.

We need to be people who pray like a publican. We will find so many more times available for prayer if we do. But we should pray for those who are praying like a Pharisee too, so that God may free us from our delusions.

‘In Westminster Abbey’ by John Betjeman’s is a dramatic monologue that retells one part of the parable of the Pharisee and the Publican (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Today’s Prayers (Saturday 29 March 2025):

The theme this week in ‘Pray With the World Church’, the Prayer Diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), has been ‘Towards Reconciliation and Renewal’. This theme was introduced last Sunday with a programme update by the Revd Canon Dr Carlton J Turner, Anglican Tutor in Contextual Theology and Mission Studies and Deputy Director of Research at the Queen’s Foundation, Birmingham.

The USPG Prayer Diary today (Saturday 29 March 2025) invites us to pray:

Lord, we pray for our partner organisations like the West Midlands Racial Justice Unit and the Anglican Minority Ethnic Network as they work to promote racial justice and eliminate racism, may they move us from lament to action.

The Collect:

Almighty God,
whose most dear Son went not up to joy but first he suffered pain,
and entered not into glory before he was crucified:
mercifully grant that we, walking in the way of the cross,
may find it none other than the way of life and peace;
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 Lord,
grant your people grace to withstand the temptations
of the world, the flesh and the devil,
and with pure hearts and minds to follow you, the only God;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Additional Collect:

Eternal God,
give us insight
to discern your will for us,
to give up what harms us,
and to seek the perfection we are promised
in Jesus Christ our Lord.

Collect on the Eve of Lent 4:

Merciful Lord,
absolve your people from their offences,
that through your bountiful goodness
we may all be delivered from the chains of those sins
which by our frailty we have committed;
grant this, heavenly Father,
for Jesus Christ’s sake, our blessed Lord and Saviour,
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.

Yesterday’s Reflection

Continued Tomorrow

The Pharisee and the Publican … who would you prefer to have coffee with this morning? (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