‘So from that day on they planned to put him to death’ (John 11: 53) … a Crucifixion icon by Hanna-Leena Ward in her recent exhibition in Lichfield Cathedral (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2026)
Patrick Comerford
We have come to the end of Passion Week, and Holy Week begins tomorrow, Palm Sunday (29 March 2026). Today marks Earth Hour, and the blocks go forward an hour tonight at the beginning of Summer Time. Earth Hour is a reminder of the fragility of our earth revealed by disasters reminds us of our need to care for the world.
Before today begins, before the weekend 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 Romans will come and destroy both our holy place and our nation’ (John 11: 48) … the ruins of the Roman Temple in Córdoba (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
John 11: 45-47 (NRSVA):
45 Many of the Jews therefore, who had come with Mary and had seen what Jesus did, believed in him. 46 But some of them went to the Pharisees and told them what he had done. 47 So the chief priests and the Pharisees called a meeting of the council, and said, ‘What are we to do? This man is performing many signs. 48 If we let him go on like this, everyone will believe in him, and the Romans will come and destroy both our holy place and our nation.’ 49 But one of them, Caiaphas, who was high priest that year, said to them, ‘You know nothing at all! 50 You do not understand that it is better for you to have one man die for the people than to have the whole nation destroyed.’ 51 He did not say this on his own, but being high priest that year he prophesied that Jesus was about to die for the nation, 52 and not for the nation only, but to gather into one the dispersed children of God. 53 So from that day on they planned to put him to death.
54 Jesus therefore no longer walked about openly among the Jews, but went from there to a town called Ephraim in the region near the wilderness; and he remained there with the disciples.
55 Now the Passover of the Jews was near, and many went up from the country to Jerusalem before the Passover to purify themselves. 56 They were looking for Jesus and were asking one another as they stood in the temple, ‘What do you think? Surely he will not come to the festival, will he?’ 57 Now the chief priests and the Pharisees had given orders that anyone who knew where Jesus was should let them know, so that they might arrest him.
‘Jesus was about to die for the nation and … not for the nation only, but to gather into one the dispersed children of God’ (John 11: 51-52) … Station 12 in the Chapel at Saint John’s Hospital, Lichfield (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Today’s Reflection:
As we approach Palm Sunday and Holy Week, the Gospel readings at the Eucharist in the lectionary focus on how the plots against Jesus have been escalating in Jerusalem. In today’s reading, the Passover is near, and many people have gone up to Jerusalem before the Passover to purify themselves (verse 55).
This morning’s reading (John 11: 45-47) follows the Gospel passage about the raising of Lazarus (John 11: 1-45), the seventh of the Seven Signs in Saint John’s Gospels and a story sometimes associated with last Sunday, the Fifth Sunday in Lent (Lent V, 22 March 2026).
Many of the people who have come to Jerusalem are wondering where Jesus is and whether he is coming to the city for the festival (verse 56). But Jesus knows he is not safe and is no longer walking about openly. Instead he has retreated to Ephraim near the wilderness with the disciples (verse 54).
Where do you look for Jesus?
Where do you find him?
Where do you expect to find him?
Do you look for him in the crowds and in the cities?
Do you only look for him at the time of the big festivals, such as Christmas and Easter?
Do you look for him in the wilderness?
Do you take time to be with him on your own, setting aside times for retreat and prayer?
Do you only seek him in the wilderness times in your own life, in anxious moments or times of crisis?
Do you find him among his disciples, in the church and among people whose lives reflect the values of the kingdom of God?
Jesus … went from there to … the region near the wilderness (John 11: 54) … in the sand dunes in Ballybunion, Co Kerry (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Today’s Prayers (Saturday 28 March 2026):
The theme this week (22-28 March 2026) in ‘Pray With the World Church,’ the Prayer Diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), is ‘Myanmar Earthquake: One Year On’ (pp 40-41). This theme was introduced last Sunday with a programme update by the Revd Davidson Solanki, the USPG Senior Regional Manager for Asia and the Middle East.
The USPG Prayer Diary today (Saturday 28 March 2026, Earth Hour) invites us to pray:
Today we remember the fragility of our earth revealed by disasters such as the earthquake in Myanmar. May this awareness inspire us to care for the world and look forward to a day when all will be restored (Revelation 21).
The Collect:
Most merciful God,
who by the death and resurrection of your Son Jesus Christ
delivered and saved the world:
grant that by faith in him who suffered on the cross
we may triumph in the power of his victory;
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 Jesus Christ,
you have taught us
that what we do for the least of our brothers and sisters
we do also for you:
give us the will to be the servant of others
as you were the servant of all,
and gave up your life and died for us,
but are alive and reign, now and for ever.
Additional Collect:
Gracious Father,
you gave up your Son
out of love for the world:
lead us to ponder the mysteries of his passion,
that we may know eternal peace
through the shedding of our Saviour’s blood,
Jesus Christ our Lord.
Collect on the Eve of Palm Sunday:
Almighty and everlasting God,
who in your tender love towards the human race
sent your Son our Saviour Jesus Christ
to take upon him our flesh
and to suffer death upon the cross:
grant that we may follow the example of his patience and humility,
and also be made partakers of his resurrection;
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.
Yesterday’s Reflections
Continued Tomorrow
Today marks Earth Hour and the clocks go forward an hour tonight at the beginning of Summer Time (Photographs: 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
Showing posts with label Time. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Time. Show all posts
28 March 2026
29 January 2026
Dial House on Bristle Hill
and the extraordinary story
of a hidden but very modern
sundial in Buckingham
The sundial at Dial House at 7 Bristle Hill, Buckingham, with its Latin inscription, was commissioned by Anthony Gordon Randall and designed by David Harber (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2026)
Patrick Comerford
Wandering through the streets of Buckingham, I have often gazed at Dial House at 7 Bristle Hill, and wondered about the sundial that fills the lower of two recesses above the front door, and its Latin inscription and Roman numerals.
I could find no reference to house or the sundial in architectural guides, local histories or tourist leaflets, nobody in the tourist information office in the Old Gaol in Buckingham seemed to know about the dial or the house, and so last week I began to wonder about the origins, antiquity and purpose of the dial and the story of Dial House.
Dial House is at the bottom of Bristle Hill, at its north-west end, where it meets School Lane, close to a bend on the River Great Ouse.
Across the top of this vertical declining dial on the first floor is the Latin inscription Super collem saetigerum septem / semper luceat sol. Below there is a fading translation, Upon seven Bristle Hill let the sun shine still, though this is now difficult to make out, and a peculiar sequence of letters and numbers ‘AGR 080808’ that seem to create a puzzling conundrum.
The blue painted slate dial plate is set in a recess about 30 mm deep. The hours XI to X are shown with full length hour lines originating from a sun, below may be the letters ‘GMT’. There are declination lines labelled for the solstices and equinoxes, although they may not be accurately drawn, and another dashed line that is not identified. All the remaining dial lettering appears to be gold or gold leaf.
I inquired around and eventually learned that the initials AGR are those of an interesting and creative local figure, the late Anthony Gordon Randall (1933-2021), and learned too how he erected the dial almost 18 years ago to mark his 75th birthday on 8 August 2008 – hence the puzzling numbers 080808 beside his initials.
Dial House is at the bottom of Bristle Hill, at its north-west end, where it meets School Lane, close to a bend on the River Great Ouse (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2026)
Anthony Gordon Randall, once a website developer and printing entrepreneur, was born into Quaker family in Woking on 8 August 1933, the third and youngest of three children. He was educated at Leighton Park, a Quaker-run public school in Reading, and at Trinity College Oxford (BA 1957), Insead (MBA 1962) and the University of Buckingham (MA 2012).
He moved from Richmond to Buckingham in 2007 and there, at the beginning of 2008, as he was looking forward to his 75th birthday, he began thinking of suitable ways to celebrate that milestone. He heard how the number 8 is regarded as lucky in China because the word eight sounds similar to the word that means ‘prosper’ or ‘wealth’. The date 08.08.08 would be a particularly auspicious one in China, and coincided with the opening ceremony of the Beijing Olympics.
His house on Bristle Hill was originally a couple of old two-storey cottages with a third floor probably added shortly after the canal arrived in Buckingham in the early 19th century and with a Georgian façade added to form the front of the house.
Above the front door and between the two windows on each of the upper floors are niches, probably designed to resemble windows in more stately houses that were blocked up in the 18th century to avoid Window Tax. Randall decided the lower of the niches would be a suitable place for a sundial.
An online search led him to David Harber, whose list of commissions included Oxbridge colleges, stately homes and international corporate head offices. The wording for the Latin inscription was provided by Bishop Stephen Verney (1919-2009), a former Bishop of Repton, who lived near David Harber’s workshop.
Randall wanted a motto related to the house at the bottom of Bristle Hill. He thought of the words in the funeral, Lux aeterna luceat …, ‘Let light eternal shine …’, and transformed this into ‘Let the sun always shine’ (Semper luceat sol …), ending (or beginning) with ‘upon 7 Bristle Hill’.
But he met some problems with his efforts at creating a Latin phrase. When he looked up ‘bristle’ he got saeta, and so he submitted to Bishop Verney Super collem saetae (‘of the bristle’) septem … He got back Super septem (before, not after, the street name) collem saetigerum (‘bristle-bearing’).
Meanwhile, during a visit to Naples, he thought he might find the correct position for the number seven (VII) during a visit to Pompeii. But the people of Pompeii did not use numbers for addresses: ‘this was a new-fangled Greek idea, which might be all very well in Alexandria, but really wouldn’t do for us Romans in Campania.’ And so, imagining the modern Italian method of putting the house number after and not before the street name was perhaps based on some Roman precedent, he decided to do likewise.
The bishop’s opinions about the word ‘Bristle’, however, were supported by a family member who had won a classical scholarship in Oxford college. He was convinced that forming adjectives from nouns by adding ‘-bearing’ in cases such as this was a common occurrence and was derived from Greek practice. They arrived at what they agreed was a reasonable Latin motto, adding a translation into English in small print at the bottom. There he produced a rhyming couplet to render semper (‘always’) as ‘still’, or continuing until this time, and produced: ‘Upon Seven Bristle Hill / Let the sun shine still’.
In addition, he chose the typeface Trajan for the wording on the dial.
Anthony Randall and David Harber worked with Bishop Stephen Verney to complete the inscriptions on the dial at Dial House (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2026)
At the installation of the sundial at No 7 Bristle House, David Harber and Anthony Randall discussed a follow-up project for the empty niche above, with Harber suggesting a weather cock on the chimney that would link through gears to a pointer on a compass rose in the niche: ‘This birthday you’re tracking the sun: the next big one, track the wind!’
No 7 Bristle House became Dial House, the sundial was nominated for a prize for the best recent embellishment of the town of Buckingham, and Anthony Randall began planning for his 80th birthday on 8 August 2013. But those plans never saw the light of day, and he died on 18 January 2021.
The house at the bottom of Bristle Hill was sold recently and is being refurbished. I hope the sundial is restored to its original glory, and that the new owners have a vision for the second-storey niche above.
As for Bishop Stephen Verney, he died on 9 November 2009, just over a year after the dial was installed. As a conscientious objector during World War II, he first served with Friends Ambulance Unit but later became an undercover agent in occupied Crete, working with the Greek resistance.
He was as an Oxford classicist and his Water into Wine (London: Fount Paperbacks, 1985) had a profound influence on my understanding of Saint John’s Gospel. Perhaps I should return to his story in the weeks to come.
Looking down Bristle Hill in Buckingham towards School Lane (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2026)
Patrick Comerford
Wandering through the streets of Buckingham, I have often gazed at Dial House at 7 Bristle Hill, and wondered about the sundial that fills the lower of two recesses above the front door, and its Latin inscription and Roman numerals.
I could find no reference to house or the sundial in architectural guides, local histories or tourist leaflets, nobody in the tourist information office in the Old Gaol in Buckingham seemed to know about the dial or the house, and so last week I began to wonder about the origins, antiquity and purpose of the dial and the story of Dial House.
Dial House is at the bottom of Bristle Hill, at its north-west end, where it meets School Lane, close to a bend on the River Great Ouse.
Across the top of this vertical declining dial on the first floor is the Latin inscription Super collem saetigerum septem / semper luceat sol. Below there is a fading translation, Upon seven Bristle Hill let the sun shine still, though this is now difficult to make out, and a peculiar sequence of letters and numbers ‘AGR 080808’ that seem to create a puzzling conundrum.
The blue painted slate dial plate is set in a recess about 30 mm deep. The hours XI to X are shown with full length hour lines originating from a sun, below may be the letters ‘GMT’. There are declination lines labelled for the solstices and equinoxes, although they may not be accurately drawn, and another dashed line that is not identified. All the remaining dial lettering appears to be gold or gold leaf.
I inquired around and eventually learned that the initials AGR are those of an interesting and creative local figure, the late Anthony Gordon Randall (1933-2021), and learned too how he erected the dial almost 18 years ago to mark his 75th birthday on 8 August 2008 – hence the puzzling numbers 080808 beside his initials.
Dial House is at the bottom of Bristle Hill, at its north-west end, where it meets School Lane, close to a bend on the River Great Ouse (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2026)
Anthony Gordon Randall, once a website developer and printing entrepreneur, was born into Quaker family in Woking on 8 August 1933, the third and youngest of three children. He was educated at Leighton Park, a Quaker-run public school in Reading, and at Trinity College Oxford (BA 1957), Insead (MBA 1962) and the University of Buckingham (MA 2012).
He moved from Richmond to Buckingham in 2007 and there, at the beginning of 2008, as he was looking forward to his 75th birthday, he began thinking of suitable ways to celebrate that milestone. He heard how the number 8 is regarded as lucky in China because the word eight sounds similar to the word that means ‘prosper’ or ‘wealth’. The date 08.08.08 would be a particularly auspicious one in China, and coincided with the opening ceremony of the Beijing Olympics.
His house on Bristle Hill was originally a couple of old two-storey cottages with a third floor probably added shortly after the canal arrived in Buckingham in the early 19th century and with a Georgian façade added to form the front of the house.
Above the front door and between the two windows on each of the upper floors are niches, probably designed to resemble windows in more stately houses that were blocked up in the 18th century to avoid Window Tax. Randall decided the lower of the niches would be a suitable place for a sundial.
An online search led him to David Harber, whose list of commissions included Oxbridge colleges, stately homes and international corporate head offices. The wording for the Latin inscription was provided by Bishop Stephen Verney (1919-2009), a former Bishop of Repton, who lived near David Harber’s workshop.
Randall wanted a motto related to the house at the bottom of Bristle Hill. He thought of the words in the funeral, Lux aeterna luceat …, ‘Let light eternal shine …’, and transformed this into ‘Let the sun always shine’ (Semper luceat sol …), ending (or beginning) with ‘upon 7 Bristle Hill’.
But he met some problems with his efforts at creating a Latin phrase. When he looked up ‘bristle’ he got saeta, and so he submitted to Bishop Verney Super collem saetae (‘of the bristle’) septem … He got back Super septem (before, not after, the street name) collem saetigerum (‘bristle-bearing’).
Meanwhile, during a visit to Naples, he thought he might find the correct position for the number seven (VII) during a visit to Pompeii. But the people of Pompeii did not use numbers for addresses: ‘this was a new-fangled Greek idea, which might be all very well in Alexandria, but really wouldn’t do for us Romans in Campania.’ And so, imagining the modern Italian method of putting the house number after and not before the street name was perhaps based on some Roman precedent, he decided to do likewise.
The bishop’s opinions about the word ‘Bristle’, however, were supported by a family member who had won a classical scholarship in Oxford college. He was convinced that forming adjectives from nouns by adding ‘-bearing’ in cases such as this was a common occurrence and was derived from Greek practice. They arrived at what they agreed was a reasonable Latin motto, adding a translation into English in small print at the bottom. There he produced a rhyming couplet to render semper (‘always’) as ‘still’, or continuing until this time, and produced: ‘Upon Seven Bristle Hill / Let the sun shine still’.
In addition, he chose the typeface Trajan for the wording on the dial.
Anthony Randall and David Harber worked with Bishop Stephen Verney to complete the inscriptions on the dial at Dial House (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2026)
At the installation of the sundial at No 7 Bristle House, David Harber and Anthony Randall discussed a follow-up project for the empty niche above, with Harber suggesting a weather cock on the chimney that would link through gears to a pointer on a compass rose in the niche: ‘This birthday you’re tracking the sun: the next big one, track the wind!’
No 7 Bristle House became Dial House, the sundial was nominated for a prize for the best recent embellishment of the town of Buckingham, and Anthony Randall began planning for his 80th birthday on 8 August 2013. But those plans never saw the light of day, and he died on 18 January 2021.
The house at the bottom of Bristle Hill was sold recently and is being refurbished. I hope the sundial is restored to its original glory, and that the new owners have a vision for the second-storey niche above.
As for Bishop Stephen Verney, he died on 9 November 2009, just over a year after the dial was installed. As a conscientious objector during World War II, he first served with Friends Ambulance Unit but later became an undercover agent in occupied Crete, working with the Greek resistance.
He was as an Oxford classicist and his Water into Wine (London: Fount Paperbacks, 1985) had a profound influence on my understanding of Saint John’s Gospel. Perhaps I should return to his story in the weeks to come.
Looking down Bristle Hill in Buckingham towards School Lane (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2026)
24 January 2026
Daily prayer in Christmas 2025-2026:
31, Saturday 24 January 2026
‘And the crowd came together again, so that they could not even eat’ (Mark 3: 20) … the crowd at the Battle of Cable Street 90 years ago in a mural in the East End (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Patrick Comerford
The 40-day season of Christmas continues until Candlemas or the Feast of the Presentation (2 February). Tomorrow is the Third Sunday of Epiphany (Epiphany III, 25 January 2026), and is also the Festival of the Conversion of Saint Paul, although this may be transferred to Monday (26 January).
The calendar of the Church of England in Common Worship today remembers Saint Francis de Sales (1567-1622), Bishop of Geneva and Teacher of the Faith. Today too is the seventh day of the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity, from 18 to 25 January. This year’s theme is ‘One Body, One Spirit’ – from Ephesians 4: 1-13 – which was prepared by the Armenian Apostolic Church, along with the Armenian Catholic and Evangelical Churches.
Before today begins, I am taking some quiet time this morning to give thanks, to reflect, to pray and to read in these ways:
1, today’s Gospel reading;
2, a short reflection;
3, a prayer from the USPG prayer diary;
4, the Collects and Post-Communion prayer of the day.
Saint Thomas Becket in the Saint Thomas Window in All Saints’ Church, York … TS Eliot’s ‘Murder in the Cathedral’ is based on the murder of Thomas Becket (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Mark 3: 20-21 (NRSVA):
[Then Jesus went home;] 20 and the crowd came together again, so that they could not even eat. 21 When his family heard it, they went out to restrain him, for people were saying, ‘He has gone out of his mind.’
‘Time present and time past / Are both perhaps present in time future / And time future contained in time past’ … a sundial in Church Street, Stony Stratford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2026)
Today’s Reflections:
TS Eliot’s play Murder in the Cathedral is based on the events leading up to the murder of Thomas Becket, Archbishop of Canterbury, on 29 December 1170 at the behest of King Henry II. The play focuses on Becket’s internal struggles. As he reflects on the martyrdom he faces, his tempters arrive, like Job’s comforters, and they question the archbishop about his plight, echoing in many ways Christ’s temptations in the wilderness.
The first tempter offers Becket the prospect of physical safety. The second offers him power, riches and fame in serving the king so that he can disarm the powerful and help the poor. The third suggests the archbishop should form an alliance with the barons and seize a chance to resist the king. Finally, the fourth tempter urges Thomas to look to the glory of martyrdom.
Becket responds to all four tempters and specifically addresses the immoral suggestions of the fourth tempter at the end of the first act:
Now is my way clear, now is the meaning plain:
Temptation shall not come in this kind again.
The last temptation is the greatest treason:
To do the right deed for the wrong reason.
Saint Mark’s Gospel is sparse in its account of the story of Christ’s temptations in the wilderness – just two verses (see Mark 1: 12-13). In the much fuller accounts (see Matthew 4: 1-11, Luke 4: 1-13), Christ is tempted to do the right things for the wrong reasons.
What would be wrong with Christ turning stones into bread (see Matthew 4: 3; Luke 4: 3-4) to feed the hungry?
What would be wrong with Christ showing miraculous powers (see Matthew 4: 3; Luke 4: 9) to point to the majesty of God (see Matthew 4: 4; Luke 4: 10-11)?
What would be wrong with Christ taking command of the kingdoms of this world (see Matthew 4: 9; Luke 4: 5-7) to usher in justice, mercy and peace?
Let me not deceive myself, these are real temptations. For all who are morally driven there is always a real temptation to do the right thing but to do it for the wrong reason.
In today’s reading in Saint Mark’s Gospel, we are at the point where Christ is about to be challenged in two fundamental ways: about whether his work is the work of God or the work of the Devil (Mark 3: 22), and to think about what his family thinks about what he is doing (Mark 3: 32). In today’s short reading of two verses, immediately before these challenges the family of Jesus came to one of his gatherings and try to distract him and prevent him from teaching, perhaps hoping to preserve their own reputation.
Christ brings hope and the boundless goodness of God into people’s lives. For that to happen, a certain degree of openness is needed on the part of the onlookers. Without that sincerity, growth in body, mind and spirit is unlikely to occur. But those who know Jesus well seem to be surprised by how he lives and acts. I pray for the freedom that I need not to be hemmed in by my habits or by the expectations of others.
To live freely is to challenge those who accept constraints and it needs courage to be led by the spirit of God.
The family members ask whether Jesus ‘has gone out of his mind.’ The melée around Jesus embarrasses them, they feel he is making a show of them, and they want to take control of him.
Can you think of those times in your life when you are drawing aware of your family’s embarrassment, disapproval or concern?
His family does not like what is happening to Jesus and seem to be embarrassed. He is breaking conventions, both religious and cultural. Perhaps they feel they are in danger or under suspicion because of him. People like Jesus who dare to be different cause suspicion, embarrassment and general unease for those who are close to them.
It is true to say that wounds from a friend can be trusted but it is true too that insults from close family members can bite bitterly.
How often do parents compare siblings with one another in a way that becomes belittling rather than encouraging?
How many children hear that their goodness, instead of being in-born, innate and God-given, is defined by their parents’ assent and approval?
How often has a child who says s/he is doing her/his best hears the critical response of a parental figure: ‘But your best is simply not good enough!’
It is heart-breakingly sad but so often true, as I have come to know, that too many adults who had a sibling die realise that one or both parents have thought it would have been preferable that a surviving child had died instead.
Sweet words bring gentle healing but insults from those closest sting hardest.
Some things in life are irretrievable, such as the opportunity to do another good being let go because it is inconvenient or because of fear that a close family member would express bewilderment or question your motivations.
Growing up without appropriate affirmation and independent decision-making can leave some people, when they are offered the opportunity to do the right thing or to make a difference in this society in this world, asking instead: ‘What’s in this for me?’ or: ‘What would my parents think of me?’
When I am asked to speak up for those who are marginalised or oppressed, this should be good enough reason in itself. But then I wonder how others are going to react – react not to the marginalised or the oppressed, but to me.
How often do I see what is the right thing to do, but find an excuse that I pretend is not of my own making?
How often do I think of doing the right thing only if it is going to please my family members – perhaps even a dead parent – or to please the neighbours?
How often do I use the Bible to justify not caring about the pain of others or ignoring or devaluing justice for others?
How often do I use obscure Bible texts to prop up my own prejudices, forgetting that any text in the Bible, however clear or obscure it may be, depends, in Christ’s own words, on the two greatest commandments, to love God and to love one another.
We can convince ourselves that we are doing the right thing when we are doing it for the wrong reason. A wrong decision taken once, thinking it is doing the right thing, but for the wrong reason, is not just an action in the present moment – it forms habits and it shapes who we are, within time and eternity.
Sophia Scholl (1921-1943), a German student who was active in the White Rose nonviolent resistance to the Nazis, was first arrested by the Gestapo when she was 16, and was beheaded in prison in Munich on 22 February 1943 at 21. She once wrote:
The real damage is done by those millions who want to ‘survive.’ The honest men who just want to be left in peace. Those who don’t want their little lives disturbed by anything bigger than themselves. Those with no sides and no causes. Those who won’t take measure of their own strength, for fear of antagonising their own weakness. Those who don’t like to make waves – or enemies. Those for whom freedom, honour, truth and principles are only literature. Those who live small, mate small, die small. It’s the reductionist approach to life: if you keep it small, you’ll keep it under control. If you don’t make any noise, the bogeyman won’t find you. But it’s all an illusion, because they die too, those people who roll up their spirits into tiny little balls so as to be safe. Safe?! From what? Life is always on the edge of death; narrow streets lead to the same place as wide avenues, and a little candle burns itself out just like a flaming torch does. I choose my own way to burn.’
How many protesters on the streets of Minneapolis and other cities across the US are thinking bravely in similar ways today?
What we do today or refuse to do today, even if we think it is the right thing to do but we do it for the wrong reasons, reflects how we have formed ourselves habitually in the past, is an image of our inner being in the present, and has consequences for the future we wish to shape.
As TS Eliot writes in ‘Burnt Norton’:
Time present and time past
Are both perhaps present in time future
And time future contained in time past
How is the Church to recover its voice and speak up for the oppressed and the marginalised, not because it is fashionable or politically correct today, but because it is the right thing to do today and for the future?
Surely all our actions ought to depend on those two great commandments – to love God and to love one another.
As the Post-Communion Prayer today asks, ‘help us to lay aside all foolishness and to live and walk in the way of insight, that we may come … to the eternal feast of heaven.’
The real damage is done by those millions who want to ‘survive’ (Sophie Scholl, 1921-1943)
Today’s Prayers (Saturday 24 January 2026):
The theme this week (18-24 January 2026) in Pray with the World Church, the prayer diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), has been ‘Freedom Theologies’ (pp 20-21). This theme was introduced last Sunday with Reflections from Dr Thandi Gamedze, poet, theologian, and senior researcher at the Desmond Tutu Centre for Religion and Social Justice.
The USPG Prayer Diary today (Saturday 24 January 2026) invites us to pray:
Gracious God, we thank you for the power of education. We pray especially for those who face barriers to education – open doors, remove obstacles, and give every child and young person the chance to grow, flourish, and contribute to a more just world.
The Collect:
Holy God,
who called your bishop Francis de Sales
to bring many to Christ through his devout life
and to renew your Church with patience and understanding:
grant that we may, by word and example,
reflect your gentleness and love to all we meet;
through Jesus Christ our Saviour,
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 Francis de Sales to the eternal feast of heaven;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.
The Collect on the Eve of the Conversion of Saint Paul:
Almighty God,
who caused the light of the gospel
to shine throughout the world
through the preaching of your servant Saint Paul:
grant that we who celebrate his wonderful conversion may follow him in bearing witness your truth;
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 Collect on the Eve of Epiphany III:
Almighty God,
whose Son revealed in signs and miracles
the wonder of your saving presence:
renew your people with your heavenly grace,
and in all our weakness
sustain us by your mighty power;
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.
Yesterday’s Reflections
Continued Tomorrow
‘The Temptation of the Lord’ … an icon in the Lady Chapel in Lichfield Cathedral (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
Patrick Comerford
The 40-day season of Christmas continues until Candlemas or the Feast of the Presentation (2 February). Tomorrow is the Third Sunday of Epiphany (Epiphany III, 25 January 2026), and is also the Festival of the Conversion of Saint Paul, although this may be transferred to Monday (26 January).
The calendar of the Church of England in Common Worship today remembers Saint Francis de Sales (1567-1622), Bishop of Geneva and Teacher of the Faith. Today too is the seventh day of the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity, from 18 to 25 January. This year’s theme is ‘One Body, One Spirit’ – from Ephesians 4: 1-13 – which was prepared by the Armenian Apostolic Church, along with the Armenian Catholic and Evangelical Churches.
Before today begins, I am taking some quiet time this morning to give thanks, to reflect, to pray and to read in these ways:
1, today’s Gospel reading;
2, a short reflection;
3, a prayer from the USPG prayer diary;
4, the Collects and Post-Communion prayer of the day.
Saint Thomas Becket in the Saint Thomas Window in All Saints’ Church, York … TS Eliot’s ‘Murder in the Cathedral’ is based on the murder of Thomas Becket (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Mark 3: 20-21 (NRSVA):
[Then Jesus went home;] 20 and the crowd came together again, so that they could not even eat. 21 When his family heard it, they went out to restrain him, for people were saying, ‘He has gone out of his mind.’
‘Time present and time past / Are both perhaps present in time future / And time future contained in time past’ … a sundial in Church Street, Stony Stratford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2026)
Today’s Reflections:
The first tempter offers Becket the prospect of physical safety. The second offers him power, riches and fame in serving the king so that he can disarm the powerful and help the poor. The third suggests the archbishop should form an alliance with the barons and seize a chance to resist the king. Finally, the fourth tempter urges Thomas to look to the glory of martyrdom.
Becket responds to all four tempters and specifically addresses the immoral suggestions of the fourth tempter at the end of the first act:
Now is my way clear, now is the meaning plain:
Temptation shall not come in this kind again.
The last temptation is the greatest treason:
To do the right deed for the wrong reason.
Saint Mark’s Gospel is sparse in its account of the story of Christ’s temptations in the wilderness – just two verses (see Mark 1: 12-13). In the much fuller accounts (see Matthew 4: 1-11, Luke 4: 1-13), Christ is tempted to do the right things for the wrong reasons.
What would be wrong with Christ turning stones into bread (see Matthew 4: 3; Luke 4: 3-4) to feed the hungry?
What would be wrong with Christ showing miraculous powers (see Matthew 4: 3; Luke 4: 9) to point to the majesty of God (see Matthew 4: 4; Luke 4: 10-11)?
What would be wrong with Christ taking command of the kingdoms of this world (see Matthew 4: 9; Luke 4: 5-7) to usher in justice, mercy and peace?
Let me not deceive myself, these are real temptations. For all who are morally driven there is always a real temptation to do the right thing but to do it for the wrong reason.
In today’s reading in Saint Mark’s Gospel, we are at the point where Christ is about to be challenged in two fundamental ways: about whether his work is the work of God or the work of the Devil (Mark 3: 22), and to think about what his family thinks about what he is doing (Mark 3: 32). In today’s short reading of two verses, immediately before these challenges the family of Jesus came to one of his gatherings and try to distract him and prevent him from teaching, perhaps hoping to preserve their own reputation.
Christ brings hope and the boundless goodness of God into people’s lives. For that to happen, a certain degree of openness is needed on the part of the onlookers. Without that sincerity, growth in body, mind and spirit is unlikely to occur. But those who know Jesus well seem to be surprised by how he lives and acts. I pray for the freedom that I need not to be hemmed in by my habits or by the expectations of others.
To live freely is to challenge those who accept constraints and it needs courage to be led by the spirit of God.
The family members ask whether Jesus ‘has gone out of his mind.’ The melée around Jesus embarrasses them, they feel he is making a show of them, and they want to take control of him.
Can you think of those times in your life when you are drawing aware of your family’s embarrassment, disapproval or concern?
His family does not like what is happening to Jesus and seem to be embarrassed. He is breaking conventions, both religious and cultural. Perhaps they feel they are in danger or under suspicion because of him. People like Jesus who dare to be different cause suspicion, embarrassment and general unease for those who are close to them.
It is true to say that wounds from a friend can be trusted but it is true too that insults from close family members can bite bitterly.
How often do parents compare siblings with one another in a way that becomes belittling rather than encouraging?
How many children hear that their goodness, instead of being in-born, innate and God-given, is defined by their parents’ assent and approval?
How often has a child who says s/he is doing her/his best hears the critical response of a parental figure: ‘But your best is simply not good enough!’
It is heart-breakingly sad but so often true, as I have come to know, that too many adults who had a sibling die realise that one or both parents have thought it would have been preferable that a surviving child had died instead.
Sweet words bring gentle healing but insults from those closest sting hardest.
Some things in life are irretrievable, such as the opportunity to do another good being let go because it is inconvenient or because of fear that a close family member would express bewilderment or question your motivations.
Growing up without appropriate affirmation and independent decision-making can leave some people, when they are offered the opportunity to do the right thing or to make a difference in this society in this world, asking instead: ‘What’s in this for me?’ or: ‘What would my parents think of me?’
When I am asked to speak up for those who are marginalised or oppressed, this should be good enough reason in itself. But then I wonder how others are going to react – react not to the marginalised or the oppressed, but to me.
How often do I see what is the right thing to do, but find an excuse that I pretend is not of my own making?
How often do I think of doing the right thing only if it is going to please my family members – perhaps even a dead parent – or to please the neighbours?
How often do I use the Bible to justify not caring about the pain of others or ignoring or devaluing justice for others?
How often do I use obscure Bible texts to prop up my own prejudices, forgetting that any text in the Bible, however clear or obscure it may be, depends, in Christ’s own words, on the two greatest commandments, to love God and to love one another.
We can convince ourselves that we are doing the right thing when we are doing it for the wrong reason. A wrong decision taken once, thinking it is doing the right thing, but for the wrong reason, is not just an action in the present moment – it forms habits and it shapes who we are, within time and eternity.
Sophia Scholl (1921-1943), a German student who was active in the White Rose nonviolent resistance to the Nazis, was first arrested by the Gestapo when she was 16, and was beheaded in prison in Munich on 22 February 1943 at 21. She once wrote:
The real damage is done by those millions who want to ‘survive.’ The honest men who just want to be left in peace. Those who don’t want their little lives disturbed by anything bigger than themselves. Those with no sides and no causes. Those who won’t take measure of their own strength, for fear of antagonising their own weakness. Those who don’t like to make waves – or enemies. Those for whom freedom, honour, truth and principles are only literature. Those who live small, mate small, die small. It’s the reductionist approach to life: if you keep it small, you’ll keep it under control. If you don’t make any noise, the bogeyman won’t find you. But it’s all an illusion, because they die too, those people who roll up their spirits into tiny little balls so as to be safe. Safe?! From what? Life is always on the edge of death; narrow streets lead to the same place as wide avenues, and a little candle burns itself out just like a flaming torch does. I choose my own way to burn.’
How many protesters on the streets of Minneapolis and other cities across the US are thinking bravely in similar ways today?
What we do today or refuse to do today, even if we think it is the right thing to do but we do it for the wrong reasons, reflects how we have formed ourselves habitually in the past, is an image of our inner being in the present, and has consequences for the future we wish to shape.
As TS Eliot writes in ‘Burnt Norton’:
Time present and time past
Are both perhaps present in time future
And time future contained in time past
How is the Church to recover its voice and speak up for the oppressed and the marginalised, not because it is fashionable or politically correct today, but because it is the right thing to do today and for the future?
Surely all our actions ought to depend on those two great commandments – to love God and to love one another.
As the Post-Communion Prayer today asks, ‘help us to lay aside all foolishness and to live and walk in the way of insight, that we may come … to the eternal feast of heaven.’
The real damage is done by those millions who want to ‘survive’ (Sophie Scholl, 1921-1943)
Today’s Prayers (Saturday 24 January 2026):
The theme this week (18-24 January 2026) in Pray with the World Church, the prayer diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), has been ‘Freedom Theologies’ (pp 20-21). This theme was introduced last Sunday with Reflections from Dr Thandi Gamedze, poet, theologian, and senior researcher at the Desmond Tutu Centre for Religion and Social Justice.
The USPG Prayer Diary today (Saturday 24 January 2026) invites us to pray:
Gracious God, we thank you for the power of education. We pray especially for those who face barriers to education – open doors, remove obstacles, and give every child and young person the chance to grow, flourish, and contribute to a more just world.
The Collect:
Holy God,
who called your bishop Francis de Sales
to bring many to Christ through his devout life
and to renew your Church with patience and understanding:
grant that we may, by word and example,
reflect your gentleness and love to all we meet;
through Jesus Christ our Saviour,
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 Francis de Sales to the eternal feast of heaven;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.
The Collect on the Eve of the Conversion of Saint Paul:
Almighty God,
who caused the light of the gospel
to shine throughout the world
through the preaching of your servant Saint Paul:
grant that we who celebrate his wonderful conversion may follow him in bearing witness your truth;
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 Collect on the Eve of Epiphany III:
Almighty God,
whose Son revealed in signs and miracles
the wonder of your saving presence:
renew your people with your heavenly grace,
and in all our weakness
sustain us by your mighty power;
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.
Yesterday’s Reflections
Continued Tomorrow
‘The Temptation of the Lord’ … an icon in the Lady Chapel in Lichfield Cathedral (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
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02 January 2026
‘The rain falls down on last year’s man,
… And all the rain falls down Amen
On the works of last year’s man’
‘Last Year’s Man’ is the second track on Leonard Cohen’s album, ‘Songs of Love and Hate,’ released in 1971
Patrick Comerford
New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day have come and gone. But on these days, two poems I turn to unfailingly at this time are TS Eliot’s ‘Little Gidding’ , and one of the songs of Leonard Cohen, ‘Last Year’s Man’.
‘Little Gidding’ is the last poem in TS Eliot’s Four Quartets. Moving from last year’s words and language to the voice of this new year provides an opportunity to reflect on the meaning of time, the past, the present and the future. In ‘Little Gidding’, he writes:
For last year’s words belong to last year’s language
And next year’s words await another voice.
…
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.
Through the unknown, unremembered gate
When the last of earth left to discover
Is that which was the beginning;
At the source of the longest river
The voice of the hidden waterfall
And the children in the apple-tree
Not known, because not looked for
But heard, half-heard, in the stillness
Between two waves of the sea.
‘… in the stillness / Between two waves of the sea’ (TS Eliot, Little Gidding’) … by the waves at Pavlos Beach in Platanias, east of Rethymnon in Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Leonard Cohen’s ‘Last Year’s Man’ is a poem and a song that is a reminder that whatever we did last year, good or bad, is already in the past. That was then and this is now.
Leonard Cohen released his third studio album, Songs of Love and Hate, 55 years ago on 19 March 1971. He recorded the album the previous September, and all eight songs are written by Cohen: Avalanche, Last Year’s Man, Dress Rehearsal Rag, Diamonds in the Mine, Love Calls You by Your Name, Famous Blue Raincoat, Sing Another Song, Boys, and Joan of Arc. There is a bonus track on the 2007 remastered edition: Dress Rehearsal Rag.
I had already become an avid reader of Leonard Cohen’s poems by my late teens, and I listened to this album throughout the summer of 1971. It was a summer that became nothing less than life-changing in terms of my spiritual growth and maturity.
In my Friday evening reflections this evening, I find myself listening once again to the album Songs of Love and Hate, especially the second track, ‘Last Year’s Man.’
This song has remained on the periphery of Cohen’s classic songs, and is often interpreted as a song about an obsessive love that Cohen has experienced, still seeking this unrequited love.
But the song is filled with Biblical images, and like many of Cohen’s songs it can has its parallels with the songs of many of the Biblical prophets, who see God as faithful to the people, keeps on loving them, and yearns for their return, and see the people as a wayward, unfaithful spouse or lover.
‘Last Year’s Man’ is no-one less than God, who is the great architect, the Creator, who is dismissed too easily in today’s, modern culture as no longer relevant or credible.
In our wars, violence and lifestyles today, that spill over from one year into the next, year after year, we frustrate God’s plans, we spoil and sully his plans for humanity, and we dismiss him as ‘last year’s man.’
We make new gods of power, wealth and war, we invent our own new superstitions. But God still has plans and hopes for his wayward people, and waits like a faithful husband for the return of the lover who has turned away.
There is an echo here of Isaiah, Jeremiah, Hosea, Joel, Amos, Micah and other prophets in the promise:
And we read from pleasant Bibles that are bound in blood and skin
that the wilderness is gathering
all its children back again.
The relevant passages include Isaiah 64 and 65, Jeremiah 31, Hosea 1 and 2, and Micah 7.
At first hearing, there may be a Jewish reference in the description of ‘a Jew’s harp on the table.’ But a Jew’s harp is not Jewish at all, and we have to search deeper in this song to draw water from the well of Jewish mysticism in which Cohen so often found refreshment.
In Jewish mysticism, it is God the Creator who breaks through the cracks – whether they are in skylights or in unmended drums – to pour his light into the world. ‘There is a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets in,’ as Leonard Cohen sings in his song ‘Anthem’ (The Future, 1992).
Through their writings, both Leonard Cohen and the late Chief Rabbi Jonathan Sacks have introduced me to the writings of the 16th century Jewish mystic, Rabbi Isaac Luria (1534-1572), whose teachings are known as Lurianic Kabbalah.
According to Isaac Luria, God created vessels into which he poured his holy light. These vessels were not strong enough to contain such a powerful force and they shattered. The sparks of divine light were carried down to earth along with the broken shards.
The Kabbalah of Rav Yitzhak Luria had a notably strong effect on Cohen, and his key ideas are reflected in that line, ‘There is a crack in everything, it’s how the light gets in.’
This divine brokenness is a key to many of Cohen’s poems and songs, according to his rabbi, Mordecai Finley, who says Lurianic Kabbalah gives voice to the impossible brokenness of the human condition. ‘The pain of the Divine breakage permeates reality. We inherit it; it inhabits us. We can deny it. Or we can study and teach it, write it and sing its mournful songs.’
Cohen hints in his songs that redemption – the tikkun olam (תִּיקּוּן עוֹלָם) that will repair the broken world – remains possible.
He returns to the Judaism of his childhood and youth, wraps the tefillin around his upper arm, and finds new insights in the Torah: ‘And we read from pleasant Bibles that are bound in blood and skin.’
Cohen regularly ended his concerts with the Priestly Blessing (ברכת כהנים; birkat Cohanim). It is also known in rabbinic literature as raising the hands or rising to the platform because the blessing is given from a raised rostrum.
The Jewish Sages stressed that although the Cohanim or priests pronounce the blessing, it is not them or the ceremonial practice of raising their hands that results in the blessing, but rather it is God’s desire that his blessing should be symbolised by the hands of the Cohanim.
Lord Sacks says the Torah explicitly says that though the Cohanim say the words, it is God who sends the blessing: ‘When the Cohanim bless the people, they are not doing anything in and of themselves. Instead, they are acting as channels through which God’s blessing flows into the world and into our lives.’
In many communities, it is customary for men in the congregation to spread their tallitot or prayer shawls over their own heads during the blessing and not look at the Cohanim. If a man has children, they come under his tallit to be blessed.
A tradition among Ashkenazim says that during this blessing, the Shekhinah becomes present where the Cohanim have their hands in the shin (ש) gesture, so that gazing there would be harmful.
An understanding of how the God’s light is thought to be present through the outstretched fingers of the Cohanim may lie behind Leonard Cohen’s lines in ‘Anthem’:
There is a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in.
The light of God breaks through in the crack in the skylight, and the rains fall like a blessing on all God’s creation.
Shabbat Shalom, שבת שלום
Last Year’s Man by Leonard Cohen:
The rain falls down on last year’s man,
That’s a Jew’s harp on the table,
That’s a crayon in his hand.
And the corners of the blueprint are ruined since they rolled
Far past the stems of thumbtacks
That still throw shadows on the wood.
And the skylight is like skin for a drum I’ll never mend
And all the rain falls down Amen
On the works of last year’s man.
I met a lady, she was playing with her soldiers in the dark
Oh one by one she had to tell them
That her name was Joan of Arc.
I was in that army, yes I stayed a little while;
I want to thank you, Joan of Arc,
For treating me so well.
And though I wear a uniform I was not born to fight;
All these wounded boys you lie beside,
Goodnight, my friends, goodnight.
I came upon a wedding that old families had contrived;
Bethlehem the bridegroom,
Babylon the bride.
Great Babylon was naked, oh she stood there trembling for me,
And Bethlehem inflamed us both
Like the shy one at some orgy.
And when we fell together all our flesh was like a veil
That I had to draw aside to see
The serpent eat its tail.
Some women wait for Jesus, and some women wait for Cain,
So I hang upon my altar
And I hoist my axe again.
And I take the one who finds me back to where it all began,
When Jesus was the honeymoon
And Cain was just the man.
And we read from pleasant Bibles that are bound in blood and skin
That the wilderness is gathering
All its children back again.
The rain falls down on last year’s man,
An hour has gone by
And he has not moved his hand.
But everything will happen if he only gives the word;
The lovers will rise up
And the mountains touch the ground.
But the skylight is like skin for a drum I’ll never mend
And all the rain falls down Amen
On the works of last year’s man.
‘Last Year’s Man’ by Leonard Cohen, Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Patrick Comerford
New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day have come and gone. But on these days, two poems I turn to unfailingly at this time are TS Eliot’s ‘Little Gidding’ , and one of the songs of Leonard Cohen, ‘Last Year’s Man’.
‘Little Gidding’ is the last poem in TS Eliot’s Four Quartets. Moving from last year’s words and language to the voice of this new year provides an opportunity to reflect on the meaning of time, the past, the present and the future. In ‘Little Gidding’, he writes:
For last year’s words belong to last year’s language
And next year’s words await another voice.
…
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.
Through the unknown, unremembered gate
When the last of earth left to discover
Is that which was the beginning;
At the source of the longest river
The voice of the hidden waterfall
And the children in the apple-tree
Not known, because not looked for
But heard, half-heard, in the stillness
Between two waves of the sea.
‘… in the stillness / Between two waves of the sea’ (TS Eliot, Little Gidding’) … by the waves at Pavlos Beach in Platanias, east of Rethymnon in Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Leonard Cohen’s ‘Last Year’s Man’ is a poem and a song that is a reminder that whatever we did last year, good or bad, is already in the past. That was then and this is now.
Leonard Cohen released his third studio album, Songs of Love and Hate, 55 years ago on 19 March 1971. He recorded the album the previous September, and all eight songs are written by Cohen: Avalanche, Last Year’s Man, Dress Rehearsal Rag, Diamonds in the Mine, Love Calls You by Your Name, Famous Blue Raincoat, Sing Another Song, Boys, and Joan of Arc. There is a bonus track on the 2007 remastered edition: Dress Rehearsal Rag.
I had already become an avid reader of Leonard Cohen’s poems by my late teens, and I listened to this album throughout the summer of 1971. It was a summer that became nothing less than life-changing in terms of my spiritual growth and maturity.
In my Friday evening reflections this evening, I find myself listening once again to the album Songs of Love and Hate, especially the second track, ‘Last Year’s Man.’
This song has remained on the periphery of Cohen’s classic songs, and is often interpreted as a song about an obsessive love that Cohen has experienced, still seeking this unrequited love.
But the song is filled with Biblical images, and like many of Cohen’s songs it can has its parallels with the songs of many of the Biblical prophets, who see God as faithful to the people, keeps on loving them, and yearns for their return, and see the people as a wayward, unfaithful spouse or lover.
‘Last Year’s Man’ is no-one less than God, who is the great architect, the Creator, who is dismissed too easily in today’s, modern culture as no longer relevant or credible.
In our wars, violence and lifestyles today, that spill over from one year into the next, year after year, we frustrate God’s plans, we spoil and sully his plans for humanity, and we dismiss him as ‘last year’s man.’
We make new gods of power, wealth and war, we invent our own new superstitions. But God still has plans and hopes for his wayward people, and waits like a faithful husband for the return of the lover who has turned away.
There is an echo here of Isaiah, Jeremiah, Hosea, Joel, Amos, Micah and other prophets in the promise:
And we read from pleasant Bibles that are bound in blood and skin
that the wilderness is gathering
all its children back again.
The relevant passages include Isaiah 64 and 65, Jeremiah 31, Hosea 1 and 2, and Micah 7.
At first hearing, there may be a Jewish reference in the description of ‘a Jew’s harp on the table.’ But a Jew’s harp is not Jewish at all, and we have to search deeper in this song to draw water from the well of Jewish mysticism in which Cohen so often found refreshment.
In Jewish mysticism, it is God the Creator who breaks through the cracks – whether they are in skylights or in unmended drums – to pour his light into the world. ‘There is a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets in,’ as Leonard Cohen sings in his song ‘Anthem’ (The Future, 1992).
Through their writings, both Leonard Cohen and the late Chief Rabbi Jonathan Sacks have introduced me to the writings of the 16th century Jewish mystic, Rabbi Isaac Luria (1534-1572), whose teachings are known as Lurianic Kabbalah.
According to Isaac Luria, God created vessels into which he poured his holy light. These vessels were not strong enough to contain such a powerful force and they shattered. The sparks of divine light were carried down to earth along with the broken shards.
The Kabbalah of Rav Yitzhak Luria had a notably strong effect on Cohen, and his key ideas are reflected in that line, ‘There is a crack in everything, it’s how the light gets in.’
This divine brokenness is a key to many of Cohen’s poems and songs, according to his rabbi, Mordecai Finley, who says Lurianic Kabbalah gives voice to the impossible brokenness of the human condition. ‘The pain of the Divine breakage permeates reality. We inherit it; it inhabits us. We can deny it. Or we can study and teach it, write it and sing its mournful songs.’
Cohen hints in his songs that redemption – the tikkun olam (תִּיקּוּן עוֹלָם) that will repair the broken world – remains possible.
He returns to the Judaism of his childhood and youth, wraps the tefillin around his upper arm, and finds new insights in the Torah: ‘And we read from pleasant Bibles that are bound in blood and skin.’
Cohen regularly ended his concerts with the Priestly Blessing (ברכת כהנים; birkat Cohanim). It is also known in rabbinic literature as raising the hands or rising to the platform because the blessing is given from a raised rostrum.
The Jewish Sages stressed that although the Cohanim or priests pronounce the blessing, it is not them or the ceremonial practice of raising their hands that results in the blessing, but rather it is God’s desire that his blessing should be symbolised by the hands of the Cohanim.
Lord Sacks says the Torah explicitly says that though the Cohanim say the words, it is God who sends the blessing: ‘When the Cohanim bless the people, they are not doing anything in and of themselves. Instead, they are acting as channels through which God’s blessing flows into the world and into our lives.’
In many communities, it is customary for men in the congregation to spread their tallitot or prayer shawls over their own heads during the blessing and not look at the Cohanim. If a man has children, they come under his tallit to be blessed.
A tradition among Ashkenazim says that during this blessing, the Shekhinah becomes present where the Cohanim have their hands in the shin (ש) gesture, so that gazing there would be harmful.
An understanding of how the God’s light is thought to be present through the outstretched fingers of the Cohanim may lie behind Leonard Cohen’s lines in ‘Anthem’:
There is a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in.
The light of God breaks through in the crack in the skylight, and the rains fall like a blessing on all God’s creation.
Shabbat Shalom, שבת שלום
Last Year’s Man by Leonard Cohen:
The rain falls down on last year’s man,
That’s a Jew’s harp on the table,
That’s a crayon in his hand.
And the corners of the blueprint are ruined since they rolled
Far past the stems of thumbtacks
That still throw shadows on the wood.
And the skylight is like skin for a drum I’ll never mend
And all the rain falls down Amen
On the works of last year’s man.
I met a lady, she was playing with her soldiers in the dark
Oh one by one she had to tell them
That her name was Joan of Arc.
I was in that army, yes I stayed a little while;
I want to thank you, Joan of Arc,
For treating me so well.
And though I wear a uniform I was not born to fight;
All these wounded boys you lie beside,
Goodnight, my friends, goodnight.
I came upon a wedding that old families had contrived;
Bethlehem the bridegroom,
Babylon the bride.
Great Babylon was naked, oh she stood there trembling for me,
And Bethlehem inflamed us both
Like the shy one at some orgy.
And when we fell together all our flesh was like a veil
That I had to draw aside to see
The serpent eat its tail.
Some women wait for Jesus, and some women wait for Cain,
So I hang upon my altar
And I hoist my axe again.
And I take the one who finds me back to where it all began,
When Jesus was the honeymoon
And Cain was just the man.
And we read from pleasant Bibles that are bound in blood and skin
That the wilderness is gathering
All its children back again.
The rain falls down on last year’s man,
An hour has gone by
And he has not moved his hand.
But everything will happen if he only gives the word;
The lovers will rise up
And the mountains touch the ground.
But the skylight is like skin for a drum I’ll never mend
And all the rain falls down Amen
On the works of last year’s man.
‘Last Year’s Man’ by Leonard Cohen, Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
25 October 2025
Daily prayer in Ordinary Time 2025:
166, Saturday 25 October 2025
‘A man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard …’ (Luke 13: 6) … a surviving fig tree beside a former small vineyard that has been cleared near the beach in Platanias east of Rethymnon in Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Patrick Comerford
We are continuing in Ordinary Time in the Church Calendar, and tomorrow is the Last Sunday after Trinity. Today, the calendar of the Church of England in Common Worship remembers Saint Crispin and Saint Crispinian, Martyrs at Rome, ca 287.
I hope to spend much of today waiting for a declaration after the Presidential election in Ireland. In my prayers this morning I am giving thanks for the benefits of democracy, and for the strong social witness of President Michael D Higgins during his 14 years in office. I am also praying for family members who are attending a family funeral in Kuching today.
This is the last weekend of October, and the storms over the last few days have been a reminder, if we ever needed it, that summer is truly over. The clocks go back an hour later tonight, early tomorrow morning, at 2 am, oand time in the UK and Ireland switches back from Daylight Saving Time (DST) or British Summer Time (BST) to Standard Time or Greenwich Mean Time. Before today begins, meanwhile, 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.
The Friary Clock Tower in Lichfield … why were the workers killed accidentally in the Tower of Siloam? (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Luke 13: 1-9 (NRSVA):
1 At that very time there were some present who told him about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mingled with their sacrifices. 2 He asked them, ‘Do you think that because these Galileans suffered in this way they were worse sinners than all other Galileans? 3 No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish as they did. 4 Or those eighteen who were killed when the tower of Siloam fell on them – do you think that they were worse offenders than all the others living in Jerusalem? 5 No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish just as they did.’
6 Then he told this parable: ‘A man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard; and he came looking for fruit on it and found none. 7 So he said to the gardener, “See here! For three years I have come looking for fruit on this fig tree, and still I find none. Cut it down! Why should it be wasting the soil?” 8 He replied, “Sir, let it alone for one more year, until I dig round it and put manure on it. 9 If it bears fruit next year, well and good; but if not, you can cut it down”.’
A lost vineyard in Platanias near Rethymnon in Crete … fig trees at either end helped to protect the vines against winds from the sea and mountain and to hold the soil and water (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Today’s Reflection:
Some years ago, in an address at the Pontifical University in Saint Patrick’s College, Maynooth, Bishop John Kirby spoke of the way many people ask why we are relatively prosperous while so many people live in poverty. But, he said, we need to realise instead that we are relatively prosperous in rich countries in the northern hemisphere precisely because so many people live in poverty and hunger and thirst in the two-thirds world.
In the middle of the economic crisis in Greece some years ago, the Greek Prime Minister accused other European leaders of failing to put compassion into action, and warned of the danger of Greece becoming ‘a warehouse of souls.’
Emphasising the spiritual without understanding the world we live in leads to us being irrelevant. On the other hand, actively doing good, without any deep and truly spiritual foundations, leads to burn-out and disillusion. Of course, we are called to hunger and thirst for righteousness (Matthew 5: 6). But wishing is not enough. Christ reminds us in today’s Gospel reading that we are called to bear fruit too … and he is patient in waiting for faith to produce fruit.
These thoughts are interesting preludes to today’s Gospel reading (Luke 13: 1-9), when we hear of the chilling and horrific deaths of two groups of people that made headline news at the time.
We all know that people often ask why God allows bad things to happen to good people. In this reading there are two examples. In the first case, it was Galileans at prayer in the Temple who were slaughtered in their innocence, and who then, sacrilegiously, had their blood mixed with the Temple sacrifices. In the second case, innocent building workers, working on the Tower of Siloam near the Temple, died when the work collapsed on top of them.
In those days, it was a common belief that pain and premature death were signs of God’s adverse judgment. We think like that today: how often do people think those who are sick, suffer infirmities, have injuries, die because they cannot afford health care? They do not die because they cannot afford healthcare – they die because governments prefer to spend money on weapons and wars or in giving tax breaks to the rich, rather than spending money on health care for those who need it.
The first group in this Gospel reading, a group of Galileans, from Christ’s own home province, believed they were doing God’s will as they worshipped in the Temple. But they were killed intentionally as they sacrificed to God in the Temple. Even in death, they were degraded further when, on Pilate’s orders, their blood was mixed with the blood of the Temple sacrifices.
Think of the horror we feel when people are murdered at worship in attacks on churches, synagogues or mosques, or Oscar Romero saying Mass 45 years ago in San Salvador (24 March 1980).
The second group in the Gospel reading, numbering 18 in all, were building workers who were killed accidentally as they were building the Tower of Siloam.
Think of our horror today at people who die randomly or accidentally, not because of their own mistakes or sinfulness: people who die sleeping in their own homes at night during Russian attacks on Ukrainian cities; children who die in attacks on hospitals or schools in Gaza; people who die daily of hunger and poverty; children born to die because they are HIV +, because their parents live in poverty, or other circumstances not of their choosing such as Trump’s capricious cancellation of US financial support; the children who die in treacherous sea crossings in the English Channel or in the Mediterranean …
How easy it is to talk about ‘innocent victims’ – of wars, of AIDS, of gangland killings – as though some people are ‘guilty victims’ who deserve to die like that anyway.
But in both cases in our Gospel reading – in all these cases – Christ says no, there is no link between an early and an unjust death and the sins of the past or the sins of past generations.
In both stories, we could explain away what we might otherwise see as the inexplicable way God allows other people to suffer and die by saying they brought it on themselves by their sins, or the sins of their ancestors … or, in today’s language, by saying they cannot afford to pay for health care, or they bring it upon themselves by their lifestyle, or they need to pull themselves up by their bootstraps, or they ought to stay in their own countries.
My compassion is the victim of my hidden values, and so others become the victims.
Many may have expected Christ to say that their deaths were in punishment for their rebellious behaviour, in the case of the Galilean rebels, or collaborative behaviour, in the case of the workers who were building a water supply system for the Roman occupiers.
Is Christ indifferent to political and environmental disasters?
Instead of meeting those expectations, Christ teaches that death comes to everyone, regardless of how sinful I am, regardless of my birth, politics or social background, or – even more certainly – my smug sense of religious pride and righteousness. And he goes on to teach how we each need to repent – even when, in the eyes of others, we do not appear to need repentance.
Seek the Lord while he may be found,
call upon him while he is near …
It is so tempting to excuse or dismiss the sufferings of others. To say they brought it on themselves offers us an opt-out: we can claim to have compassion, but need not respond to it, nor need to do anything to challenge the injustices that are the underlying causes of this suffering.
Yet, in the parable of the fig tree, we are called on to wait, we are urged not to be too hasty in our judgment on those who seem in our eyes to do nothing to improve their lot.
It makes logical, economic and financial sense for the owner to want to chop down the fig tree – after all, not only is it taking up space, but it also costs in terms of time, tending, feeding, caring and nurturing. The owner knows what it is to make a quick profit, and if the quick profit is not coming soon enough he wants to cut his losses.
It takes much tender care and many years – at least three years – for a fig tree to bear fruit. And even then, in a vineyard, the figs are not a profit – they are a bonus.
Even if a fig tree bears early fruit, the Mosaic Law said it could not be harvested for three years, and the fruit gathered in the fourth year was going to offered as the first fruits. Only in the fifth year, then, could the fruit be eaten.
So, if this tree was chopped down, and another put its place, it would take longer still to get fruit that could be eaten or sold. In his quest for a quick profit, the owner of the vineyard shows little knowledge about the reality of economics.
The gardener, who has nothing at stake, turns out to be the one who not only has compassion, but has deep-seated wisdom too. The gardener, who is never going to benefit from the owner’s profits, can see the tree’s potential, is willing to let be and wait, knowing what the fig tree is today and what it can do in the future.
But we can decide where we place our trust – in the values that I think serve me but serve the rich, the powerful and the oppressor, or in the God who sees our plight, who hears our cry, and who comes in Christ to deliver us.
Seek the Lord while he may be found,
call upon him while he is near …
Figs ripening on a fig tree near the beach at Platanias, east of Rethymnon in Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Today’s Prayers (Saturday 25 October 2025):
The theme this week (19 to 25 October) in Pray with the World Church, the prayer diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), has been ‘Advancing Theological Education for Young Women in Africa’ (pp 48-49). This theme was introduced last Sunday with reflections from Esmeralda (Essie) Pato, Chair of the Communion-Wide Advisory Group for USPG; she is based in Johannesburg, South Africa.
The USPG Prayer Diary today (Friday 24 October 2025, United Nations Day) invites us to pray:
Lord, bless Essie in her leadership of the Communion-Wide Advisory Group for USPG. Grant her wisdom and strength as she guides the mission, inspiring others to serve faithfully.
The Collect:
Almighty and everlasting God,
increase in us your gift of faith
that, forsaking what lies behind
and reaching out to that which is before,
we may run the way of your commandments
and win the crown of everlasting joy;
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:
We praise and thank you, O Christ, for this sacred feast:
for here we receive you,
here the memory of your passion is renewed,
here our minds are filled with grace,
and here a pledge of future glory is given,
when we shall feast at that table where you reign
with all your saints for ever.
Additional Collect:
God, our judge and saviour,
teach us to be open to your truth
and to trust in your love,
that we may live each day
with confidence in the salvation which is given
through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Collect on the Eve of Last Sunday after Trinity:
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.
Yesterday’s Reflections
Continued Tomorrow
Vines in a small abandoned vineyard near the bus top in Platanias, east of Rethymnon (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
The bell tower beside the Cathedral in Rethymnon, with a clock dating from 1899 … the clocks go back an hour tonight (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Patrick Comerford
We are continuing in Ordinary Time in the Church Calendar, and tomorrow is the Last Sunday after Trinity. Today, the calendar of the Church of England in Common Worship remembers Saint Crispin and Saint Crispinian, Martyrs at Rome, ca 287.
I hope to spend much of today waiting for a declaration after the Presidential election in Ireland. In my prayers this morning I am giving thanks for the benefits of democracy, and for the strong social witness of President Michael D Higgins during his 14 years in office. I am also praying for family members who are attending a family funeral in Kuching today.
This is the last weekend of October, and the storms over the last few days have been a reminder, if we ever needed it, that summer is truly over. The clocks go back an hour later tonight, early tomorrow morning, at 2 am, oand time in the UK and Ireland switches back from Daylight Saving Time (DST) or British Summer Time (BST) to Standard Time or Greenwich Mean Time. Before today begins, meanwhile, 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.
The Friary Clock Tower in Lichfield … why were the workers killed accidentally in the Tower of Siloam? (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Luke 13: 1-9 (NRSVA):
1 At that very time there were some present who told him about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mingled with their sacrifices. 2 He asked them, ‘Do you think that because these Galileans suffered in this way they were worse sinners than all other Galileans? 3 No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish as they did. 4 Or those eighteen who were killed when the tower of Siloam fell on them – do you think that they were worse offenders than all the others living in Jerusalem? 5 No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish just as they did.’
6 Then he told this parable: ‘A man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard; and he came looking for fruit on it and found none. 7 So he said to the gardener, “See here! For three years I have come looking for fruit on this fig tree, and still I find none. Cut it down! Why should it be wasting the soil?” 8 He replied, “Sir, let it alone for one more year, until I dig round it and put manure on it. 9 If it bears fruit next year, well and good; but if not, you can cut it down”.’
A lost vineyard in Platanias near Rethymnon in Crete … fig trees at either end helped to protect the vines against winds from the sea and mountain and to hold the soil and water (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Today’s Reflection:
Some years ago, in an address at the Pontifical University in Saint Patrick’s College, Maynooth, Bishop John Kirby spoke of the way many people ask why we are relatively prosperous while so many people live in poverty. But, he said, we need to realise instead that we are relatively prosperous in rich countries in the northern hemisphere precisely because so many people live in poverty and hunger and thirst in the two-thirds world.
In the middle of the economic crisis in Greece some years ago, the Greek Prime Minister accused other European leaders of failing to put compassion into action, and warned of the danger of Greece becoming ‘a warehouse of souls.’
Emphasising the spiritual without understanding the world we live in leads to us being irrelevant. On the other hand, actively doing good, without any deep and truly spiritual foundations, leads to burn-out and disillusion. Of course, we are called to hunger and thirst for righteousness (Matthew 5: 6). But wishing is not enough. Christ reminds us in today’s Gospel reading that we are called to bear fruit too … and he is patient in waiting for faith to produce fruit.
These thoughts are interesting preludes to today’s Gospel reading (Luke 13: 1-9), when we hear of the chilling and horrific deaths of two groups of people that made headline news at the time.
We all know that people often ask why God allows bad things to happen to good people. In this reading there are two examples. In the first case, it was Galileans at prayer in the Temple who were slaughtered in their innocence, and who then, sacrilegiously, had their blood mixed with the Temple sacrifices. In the second case, innocent building workers, working on the Tower of Siloam near the Temple, died when the work collapsed on top of them.
In those days, it was a common belief that pain and premature death were signs of God’s adverse judgment. We think like that today: how often do people think those who are sick, suffer infirmities, have injuries, die because they cannot afford health care? They do not die because they cannot afford healthcare – they die because governments prefer to spend money on weapons and wars or in giving tax breaks to the rich, rather than spending money on health care for those who need it.
The first group in this Gospel reading, a group of Galileans, from Christ’s own home province, believed they were doing God’s will as they worshipped in the Temple. But they were killed intentionally as they sacrificed to God in the Temple. Even in death, they were degraded further when, on Pilate’s orders, their blood was mixed with the blood of the Temple sacrifices.
Think of the horror we feel when people are murdered at worship in attacks on churches, synagogues or mosques, or Oscar Romero saying Mass 45 years ago in San Salvador (24 March 1980).
The second group in the Gospel reading, numbering 18 in all, were building workers who were killed accidentally as they were building the Tower of Siloam.
Think of our horror today at people who die randomly or accidentally, not because of their own mistakes or sinfulness: people who die sleeping in their own homes at night during Russian attacks on Ukrainian cities; children who die in attacks on hospitals or schools in Gaza; people who die daily of hunger and poverty; children born to die because they are HIV +, because their parents live in poverty, or other circumstances not of their choosing such as Trump’s capricious cancellation of US financial support; the children who die in treacherous sea crossings in the English Channel or in the Mediterranean …
How easy it is to talk about ‘innocent victims’ – of wars, of AIDS, of gangland killings – as though some people are ‘guilty victims’ who deserve to die like that anyway.
But in both cases in our Gospel reading – in all these cases – Christ says no, there is no link between an early and an unjust death and the sins of the past or the sins of past generations.
In both stories, we could explain away what we might otherwise see as the inexplicable way God allows other people to suffer and die by saying they brought it on themselves by their sins, or the sins of their ancestors … or, in today’s language, by saying they cannot afford to pay for health care, or they bring it upon themselves by their lifestyle, or they need to pull themselves up by their bootstraps, or they ought to stay in their own countries.
My compassion is the victim of my hidden values, and so others become the victims.
Many may have expected Christ to say that their deaths were in punishment for their rebellious behaviour, in the case of the Galilean rebels, or collaborative behaviour, in the case of the workers who were building a water supply system for the Roman occupiers.
Is Christ indifferent to political and environmental disasters?
Instead of meeting those expectations, Christ teaches that death comes to everyone, regardless of how sinful I am, regardless of my birth, politics or social background, or – even more certainly – my smug sense of religious pride and righteousness. And he goes on to teach how we each need to repent – even when, in the eyes of others, we do not appear to need repentance.
Seek the Lord while he may be found,
call upon him while he is near …
It is so tempting to excuse or dismiss the sufferings of others. To say they brought it on themselves offers us an opt-out: we can claim to have compassion, but need not respond to it, nor need to do anything to challenge the injustices that are the underlying causes of this suffering.
Yet, in the parable of the fig tree, we are called on to wait, we are urged not to be too hasty in our judgment on those who seem in our eyes to do nothing to improve their lot.
It makes logical, economic and financial sense for the owner to want to chop down the fig tree – after all, not only is it taking up space, but it also costs in terms of time, tending, feeding, caring and nurturing. The owner knows what it is to make a quick profit, and if the quick profit is not coming soon enough he wants to cut his losses.
It takes much tender care and many years – at least three years – for a fig tree to bear fruit. And even then, in a vineyard, the figs are not a profit – they are a bonus.
Even if a fig tree bears early fruit, the Mosaic Law said it could not be harvested for three years, and the fruit gathered in the fourth year was going to offered as the first fruits. Only in the fifth year, then, could the fruit be eaten.
So, if this tree was chopped down, and another put its place, it would take longer still to get fruit that could be eaten or sold. In his quest for a quick profit, the owner of the vineyard shows little knowledge about the reality of economics.
The gardener, who has nothing at stake, turns out to be the one who not only has compassion, but has deep-seated wisdom too. The gardener, who is never going to benefit from the owner’s profits, can see the tree’s potential, is willing to let be and wait, knowing what the fig tree is today and what it can do in the future.
But we can decide where we place our trust – in the values that I think serve me but serve the rich, the powerful and the oppressor, or in the God who sees our plight, who hears our cry, and who comes in Christ to deliver us.
Seek the Lord while he may be found,
call upon him while he is near …
Figs ripening on a fig tree near the beach at Platanias, east of Rethymnon in Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Today’s Prayers (Saturday 25 October 2025):
The theme this week (19 to 25 October) in Pray with the World Church, the prayer diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), has been ‘Advancing Theological Education for Young Women in Africa’ (pp 48-49). This theme was introduced last Sunday with reflections from Esmeralda (Essie) Pato, Chair of the Communion-Wide Advisory Group for USPG; she is based in Johannesburg, South Africa.
The USPG Prayer Diary today (Friday 24 October 2025, United Nations Day) invites us to pray:
Lord, bless Essie in her leadership of the Communion-Wide Advisory Group for USPG. Grant her wisdom and strength as she guides the mission, inspiring others to serve faithfully.
The Collect:
Almighty and everlasting God,
increase in us your gift of faith
that, forsaking what lies behind
and reaching out to that which is before,
we may run the way of your commandments
and win the crown of everlasting joy;
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:
We praise and thank you, O Christ, for this sacred feast:
for here we receive you,
here the memory of your passion is renewed,
here our minds are filled with grace,
and here a pledge of future glory is given,
when we shall feast at that table where you reign
with all your saints for ever.
Additional Collect:
God, our judge and saviour,
teach us to be open to your truth
and to trust in your love,
that we may live each day
with confidence in the salvation which is given
through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Collect on the Eve of Last Sunday after Trinity:
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.
Yesterday’s Reflections
Continued Tomorrow
Vines in a small abandoned vineyard near the bus top in Platanias, east of Rethymnon (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
The bell tower beside the Cathedral in Rethymnon, with a clock dating from 1899 … the clocks go back an hour tonight (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
13 October 2025
‘Holy pandemonium’ and
exuberant celebrations
of the cycle of life and
death at Simchat Torah
The Torah scrolls in Milton Keynes and District Reform Synagogue, including scroll No 970 (left) from Pacov in the Czech Republic (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
The paired Jewish holidays of Shemini Hag’Atseret and Simchat Torah, which follow immediately after Sukkot being this evening. Shemini Hag’Atseret starts at sunset this evening (Monday 13 October), Simchat Torah starts at sunset tomorrow (Tuesday 14 October), and the celebrations end at nightfall the following evening (Wednesday 15 October).
The seven joyous days of Sukkot in the Jewish calendar are followed by these celebrations that mark the completion of one annual Torah reading cycle and the immediate beginning of the next Torah reading cycle.
Traditionally these are joyous milestones and they are marked with dancing with the Torah scrolls in seven circuits of the synagogue, known as hakafot, when the Torah scrolls are held aloft in procession. The celebrations include lighting candles each night, festive meals at both night and day and avoiding work. Among Reform Jews and in Israel, Simchat Torah is generally celebrated on the same day as Shemini Atzeret.
Sukkot, which finishes with these celebrations, is also known as the Feast of Tabernacles or the Feast of Ingathering, and recalls the 40 years the fleeing slaves wandered in the desert, living in temporary shelters. Sukkot is also regarded as a harvest festival, marking the end of the agricultural year.
The Jewish calendar and the western secular calendar are calculated in different ways. But every Jew celebrating Simchat Torah will remember that the surprise attack launched from Gaza by Hamas two years ago on the morning of 7 October 2023 coincided with Simchat Torah. Simchat Torah two years ago fell between sunset on 6 October and nightfall on 7 October. A day that was meant to be filled with joy, singing and dancing became the darkest day for the Jewish people since the Holocaust.
Simchat Torah means ‘Rejoicing with the Torah’ and is meant to be a joyous holiday that celebrates the Jewish love of Torah and study – a day of exuberant celebration of Torah and its centrality to Jewish life.
But that joy is tempered this year with memories of the horrors of events two years ago and mixed anxieties and hopes now this year about the ceasefire in the Middle East, the release of the last remaining hostages and the bodies of those who did not survive, and anxiety too about finding a just, lasting and sustainable peace in the Middle East and an end to the cycle of violence that has continued not just for decades, but for generations and for centuries.
The rabbis understood that time is both cyclical and linear. Cosmic time has a linear quality in which God acts to redeem people in History. Our life span is also linear, we are born and one day we will die. But, life continues around us, history continues to unfold, even when we are no longer a part of it.
Time, however, also exists cyclically. The seasons and religious festivals come round and are repeated year after year. Regardless of what happens on the historical stage to us or to those we know and love, these cycles will continue. The moon will continue to mark our days, weeks and months, the sun and the rains will nourish our crops, and the Torah will continue to inspire, instruct and comfort generations year after year.
Simchat Torah marks the end of one cycle of Torah readings and the beginning of a new cycle of Torah readings. The concluding section of the fifth book of the Torah, Deuteronomy (D’varim), is read, and immediately following that the opening section of Genesis (B’reishit) is read, representing this eternal cycle of living and our relationship with God.
To look at the Torah’s beginning immediately after its end presents an important perspective. By the end of veZot haBerakha (Deuteronomy 33: 1 to 34: 12), 613 commandments have been given and received, frameworks for every aspect of life have been outlined, and people have found themselves truly immersed in religious, moral and ethical issues.
But many people may find they have not made a connection between those issues and creation and the natural world. Reading about the prohibitions against charging interest and delaying payment to workers does not necessarily mesh in our with the creation of stars and planets. By the end of the cycle of readings, it may be easy to forget the beginning.
The reading on Simchat Torah is an opportunity to see Torah not simply as a book of diverse commandments, but as a unified framework for life that sees the earliest origins of the universe and our complex developments as humans as part of an entire system.
In its own subtle way, the reading of Simchat Torah highlights an important question: Do the scholars and adherents of the God’s law also genuinely see it embedded in God’s world? Indeed, can we properly study the laws and ideas of Torah without paying close attention to nature?
As one cycle of Torah reading ends with reading about the death of Moses, a new cycle begins immediately with reading about the days of Creation. Death and birth, ending and beginning, the cycle continues on for another year, and this is celebrated joyfully.
The highlight of Simchat Torah is the hakafot, held on both the eve and the morning of the festival, in which people process and dance with the Torah scrolls while circling round the synagogue seven times, singing and dancing but making sure that everyone who wants to is able to dance with a scroll. These celebrations are expected to be wholehearted and exuberant, and the effect is one that has been described as ‘holy pandemonium’.
It is a custom in many synagogues to invite specific members of the community who have been noteworthy for their contribution to community life in the past year to read the end of Deuteronomy and the beginning of Genesis. In many communities the remaining aliyot or calls to reading will be offered to as many people as possible, often needing the repetition of sections of the Creation story so that as many people as possible can take part. Simchat Torah is also the only time in the year when children are also called up to the Torah.
Despite the fragility we so often experience in life, Simchat Torah is a traditional celebration of the joy of living, of hope in which life continues. It celebrates our relationship with God, who looks to us to embrace all that life has to offer as we look to God to share it with us.
Torah crowns and mantles on the scrolls in the Aron haKodesh or Ark in Milton Keynes and District Reform Synagogue (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
The paired Jewish holidays of Shemini Hag’Atseret and Simchat Torah, which follow immediately after Sukkot being this evening. Shemini Hag’Atseret starts at sunset this evening (Monday 13 October), Simchat Torah starts at sunset tomorrow (Tuesday 14 October), and the celebrations end at nightfall the following evening (Wednesday 15 October).
The seven joyous days of Sukkot in the Jewish calendar are followed by these celebrations that mark the completion of one annual Torah reading cycle and the immediate beginning of the next Torah reading cycle.
Traditionally these are joyous milestones and they are marked with dancing with the Torah scrolls in seven circuits of the synagogue, known as hakafot, when the Torah scrolls are held aloft in procession. The celebrations include lighting candles each night, festive meals at both night and day and avoiding work. Among Reform Jews and in Israel, Simchat Torah is generally celebrated on the same day as Shemini Atzeret.
Sukkot, which finishes with these celebrations, is also known as the Feast of Tabernacles or the Feast of Ingathering, and recalls the 40 years the fleeing slaves wandered in the desert, living in temporary shelters. Sukkot is also regarded as a harvest festival, marking the end of the agricultural year.
The Jewish calendar and the western secular calendar are calculated in different ways. But every Jew celebrating Simchat Torah will remember that the surprise attack launched from Gaza by Hamas two years ago on the morning of 7 October 2023 coincided with Simchat Torah. Simchat Torah two years ago fell between sunset on 6 October and nightfall on 7 October. A day that was meant to be filled with joy, singing and dancing became the darkest day for the Jewish people since the Holocaust.
Simchat Torah means ‘Rejoicing with the Torah’ and is meant to be a joyous holiday that celebrates the Jewish love of Torah and study – a day of exuberant celebration of Torah and its centrality to Jewish life.
But that joy is tempered this year with memories of the horrors of events two years ago and mixed anxieties and hopes now this year about the ceasefire in the Middle East, the release of the last remaining hostages and the bodies of those who did not survive, and anxiety too about finding a just, lasting and sustainable peace in the Middle East and an end to the cycle of violence that has continued not just for decades, but for generations and for centuries.
The rabbis understood that time is both cyclical and linear. Cosmic time has a linear quality in which God acts to redeem people in History. Our life span is also linear, we are born and one day we will die. But, life continues around us, history continues to unfold, even when we are no longer a part of it.
Time, however, also exists cyclically. The seasons and religious festivals come round and are repeated year after year. Regardless of what happens on the historical stage to us or to those we know and love, these cycles will continue. The moon will continue to mark our days, weeks and months, the sun and the rains will nourish our crops, and the Torah will continue to inspire, instruct and comfort generations year after year.
Simchat Torah marks the end of one cycle of Torah readings and the beginning of a new cycle of Torah readings. The concluding section of the fifth book of the Torah, Deuteronomy (D’varim), is read, and immediately following that the opening section of Genesis (B’reishit) is read, representing this eternal cycle of living and our relationship with God.
To look at the Torah’s beginning immediately after its end presents an important perspective. By the end of veZot haBerakha (Deuteronomy 33: 1 to 34: 12), 613 commandments have been given and received, frameworks for every aspect of life have been outlined, and people have found themselves truly immersed in religious, moral and ethical issues.
But many people may find they have not made a connection between those issues and creation and the natural world. Reading about the prohibitions against charging interest and delaying payment to workers does not necessarily mesh in our with the creation of stars and planets. By the end of the cycle of readings, it may be easy to forget the beginning.
The reading on Simchat Torah is an opportunity to see Torah not simply as a book of diverse commandments, but as a unified framework for life that sees the earliest origins of the universe and our complex developments as humans as part of an entire system.
In its own subtle way, the reading of Simchat Torah highlights an important question: Do the scholars and adherents of the God’s law also genuinely see it embedded in God’s world? Indeed, can we properly study the laws and ideas of Torah without paying close attention to nature?
As one cycle of Torah reading ends with reading about the death of Moses, a new cycle begins immediately with reading about the days of Creation. Death and birth, ending and beginning, the cycle continues on for another year, and this is celebrated joyfully.
The highlight of Simchat Torah is the hakafot, held on both the eve and the morning of the festival, in which people process and dance with the Torah scrolls while circling round the synagogue seven times, singing and dancing but making sure that everyone who wants to is able to dance with a scroll. These celebrations are expected to be wholehearted and exuberant, and the effect is one that has been described as ‘holy pandemonium’.
It is a custom in many synagogues to invite specific members of the community who have been noteworthy for their contribution to community life in the past year to read the end of Deuteronomy and the beginning of Genesis. In many communities the remaining aliyot or calls to reading will be offered to as many people as possible, often needing the repetition of sections of the Creation story so that as many people as possible can take part. Simchat Torah is also the only time in the year when children are also called up to the Torah.
Despite the fragility we so often experience in life, Simchat Torah is a traditional celebration of the joy of living, of hope in which life continues. It celebrates our relationship with God, who looks to us to embrace all that life has to offer as we look to God to share it with us.
Torah crowns and mantles on the scrolls in the Aron haKodesh or Ark in Milton Keynes and District Reform Synagogue (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
10 October 2025
Daily prayer in Ordinary Time 2025:
151, Friday 10 October 2025
‘If it is by the finger of God that I cast out the demons, then the kingdom of God has come to you’ (Luke 11: 20) … the finger of God touches Adam in Michelangelo’s ceiling in the Sistine Chapel (1508-1512)
Patrick Comerford
We are continuing in Ordinary Time in the Church Calendar, with the Sixteenth Sunday after Trinity (Trinity XVI, 5 October).
The calendar of the Church of England in Common Worship today remembers Saint Paulinus (644), Bishop of York, Missionary, and Thomas Traherne (1636-1674), Poet and Spiritual Writer.
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.
‘He casts out demons by Beelzebul, the ruler of the demons’ (Luke 11: 15) … a gargoyle at Lichfield Cathedral (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Luke 11: 15-26 (NRSVA):
15 But some of them said, ‘He casts out demons by Beelzebul, the ruler of the demons.’ 16 Others, to test him, kept demanding from him a sign from heaven. 17 But he knew what they were thinking and said to them, ‘Every kingdom divided against itself becomes a desert, and house falls on house. 18 If Satan also is divided against himself, how will his kingdom stand? – for you say that I cast out the demons by Beelzebul. 19 Now if I cast out the demons by Beelzebul, by whom do your exorcists cast them out? Therefore they will be your judges. 20 But if it is by the finger of God that I cast out the demons, then the kingdom of God has come to you. 21 When a strong man, fully armed, guards his castle, his property is safe. 22 But when one stronger than he attacks him and overpowers him, he takes away his armour in which he trusted and divides his plunder. 23 Whoever is not with me is against me, and whoever does not gather with me scatters.
24 ‘When the unclean spirit has gone out of a person, it wanders through waterless regions looking for a resting-place, but not finding any, it says, “I will return to my house from which I came.” 25 When it comes, it finds it swept and put in order. 26 Then it goes and brings seven other spirits more evil than itself, and they enter and live there; and the last state of that person is worse than the first.’
‘When a strong man, fully armed, guards his castle, his property is safe’ (Luke 11: 21) … Ballybur Castle, the former seat of the Comerford family near Callan, Co Kilkenny (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Today’s reflection:
In this morning’s Gospel reading, Christ is challenged about whether his work is the work of God or the work of the Devil.
Too often, when I am offered the opportunity to do the right thing, to make a difference in this society, in this world, I ask: ‘What’s in this for me?’ And how often do I challenge others when they are doing the right thing, questioning their motives and wondering ‘Wat’s in it for them?’
When I am asked to speak up for those who are marginalised or oppressed, this should be good enough reason in itself. But then I wonder how others are going to react – react not to the marginalised or oppressed, but to me, and then jealous or feeling hubris when others are seeing to do the right thing when I failed to respond?
How often have I seen what is the right thing to do, but have found an excuse that I pretend is not of my own making?
How often do I think of doing the right thing only if it is going to please my family members or please my neighbours?
How often do I use the Bible to justify not extending civil rights to others?
How often do I use the Bible to condemn others when I know, deep down, that they are doing the right thing for other people?
How often do I use obscure Bible texts to prop up my own prejudices, forgetting that any text in the Bible, however clear or obscure it may be, depends, in Christ’s own words, on the two greatest commandments, to love God and to love one another.
We can convince ourselves that we are doing the right thing when we are doing it for the wrong reason. A wrong decision taken once, thinking it is doing the right thing, but for the wrong reason, is not just an action in the present moment. It forms habits and it shapes who we are, within time and eternity.
The Revd Martin Niemöller (1892-1984), a prominent German Lutheran pastor and an outspoken opponent of Hitler, spent the last seven years of Nazi rule in concentration camps. He once said:
First they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out –
Because I was not a socialist.
Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out –
Because I was not a trade unionist.
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out –
Because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for me – and there was no one left to speak for me.
What we do today or fail to do today, even if we think it is the right thing to do but we do it for the wrong reasons, reflects how we have formed ourselves habitually in the past, is an image of our inner being in the present, and has consequences for the future we wish to shape.
As TS Eliot writes:
Time present and time past
Are both perhaps present in time future
And time future contained in time past (‘Burnt Norton’).
How is the Church to recover its voice and speak up for the oppressed and the marginalised, not because it is fashionable or politically correct today, but because it is the right thing to do today and for the future?
Surely all our actions must depend on those two great commandments – to love God and to love one another.
‘Now if I cast out the demons by Beelzebul, by whom do your exorcists cast them out?’ (Luke 11: 19) … an image at La Lonja de la Seda in Valencia (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Today’s Prayers (Friday 10 October 2025):
The theme this week (5 to 11 October) in Pray with the World Church, the prayer diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), is ‘Disability inclusion in Zimbabwe’ (pp 44-45). This theme was introduced on Sunday with Reflections from Makomborero Bowa, Lecturer in the Department of Philosophy Religion and Ethics in the University of Zimbabwe.
The USPG Prayer Diary today (Friday 10 2025) invites us to pray:
Thank you, Lord Jesus, for the way you perfectly modelled care and compassion.
The Collect:
God our Saviour,
who sent Paulinus to preach and to baptize,
and so to build up your Church in this land:
grant that, inspired by his example,
we may tell all the world of your truth,
that with him we may receive the reward
you prepare for all your faithful servants;
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:
Holy Father,
who gathered us here around the table of your Son
to share this meal with the whole household of God:
in that new world where you reveal
the fullness of your peace,
gather people of every race and language
to share with Paulinus and all your saints
in the eternal banquet of Jesus Christ our Lord.
Yesterday’s Reflections
Continued Tomorrow
‘Time present and time past / Are both perhaps present in time future / And time future contained in time past’ (TS Eliot, ‘Burnt Norton’) … the clock on Donegall House in Lichfield (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
Patrick Comerford
We are continuing in Ordinary Time in the Church Calendar, with the Sixteenth Sunday after Trinity (Trinity XVI, 5 October).
The calendar of the Church of England in Common Worship today remembers Saint Paulinus (644), Bishop of York, Missionary, and Thomas Traherne (1636-1674), Poet and Spiritual Writer.
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.
‘He casts out demons by Beelzebul, the ruler of the demons’ (Luke 11: 15) … a gargoyle at Lichfield Cathedral (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Luke 11: 15-26 (NRSVA):
15 But some of them said, ‘He casts out demons by Beelzebul, the ruler of the demons.’ 16 Others, to test him, kept demanding from him a sign from heaven. 17 But he knew what they were thinking and said to them, ‘Every kingdom divided against itself becomes a desert, and house falls on house. 18 If Satan also is divided against himself, how will his kingdom stand? – for you say that I cast out the demons by Beelzebul. 19 Now if I cast out the demons by Beelzebul, by whom do your exorcists cast them out? Therefore they will be your judges. 20 But if it is by the finger of God that I cast out the demons, then the kingdom of God has come to you. 21 When a strong man, fully armed, guards his castle, his property is safe. 22 But when one stronger than he attacks him and overpowers him, he takes away his armour in which he trusted and divides his plunder. 23 Whoever is not with me is against me, and whoever does not gather with me scatters.
24 ‘When the unclean spirit has gone out of a person, it wanders through waterless regions looking for a resting-place, but not finding any, it says, “I will return to my house from which I came.” 25 When it comes, it finds it swept and put in order. 26 Then it goes and brings seven other spirits more evil than itself, and they enter and live there; and the last state of that person is worse than the first.’
‘When a strong man, fully armed, guards his castle, his property is safe’ (Luke 11: 21) … Ballybur Castle, the former seat of the Comerford family near Callan, Co Kilkenny (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Today’s reflection:
In this morning’s Gospel reading, Christ is challenged about whether his work is the work of God or the work of the Devil.
Too often, when I am offered the opportunity to do the right thing, to make a difference in this society, in this world, I ask: ‘What’s in this for me?’ And how often do I challenge others when they are doing the right thing, questioning their motives and wondering ‘Wat’s in it for them?’
When I am asked to speak up for those who are marginalised or oppressed, this should be good enough reason in itself. But then I wonder how others are going to react – react not to the marginalised or oppressed, but to me, and then jealous or feeling hubris when others are seeing to do the right thing when I failed to respond?
How often have I seen what is the right thing to do, but have found an excuse that I pretend is not of my own making?
How often do I think of doing the right thing only if it is going to please my family members or please my neighbours?
How often do I use the Bible to justify not extending civil rights to others?
How often do I use the Bible to condemn others when I know, deep down, that they are doing the right thing for other people?
How often do I use obscure Bible texts to prop up my own prejudices, forgetting that any text in the Bible, however clear or obscure it may be, depends, in Christ’s own words, on the two greatest commandments, to love God and to love one another.
We can convince ourselves that we are doing the right thing when we are doing it for the wrong reason. A wrong decision taken once, thinking it is doing the right thing, but for the wrong reason, is not just an action in the present moment. It forms habits and it shapes who we are, within time and eternity.
The Revd Martin Niemöller (1892-1984), a prominent German Lutheran pastor and an outspoken opponent of Hitler, spent the last seven years of Nazi rule in concentration camps. He once said:
First they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out –
Because I was not a socialist.
Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out –
Because I was not a trade unionist.
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out –
Because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for me – and there was no one left to speak for me.
What we do today or fail to do today, even if we think it is the right thing to do but we do it for the wrong reasons, reflects how we have formed ourselves habitually in the past, is an image of our inner being in the present, and has consequences for the future we wish to shape.
As TS Eliot writes:
Time present and time past
Are both perhaps present in time future
And time future contained in time past (‘Burnt Norton’).
How is the Church to recover its voice and speak up for the oppressed and the marginalised, not because it is fashionable or politically correct today, but because it is the right thing to do today and for the future?
Surely all our actions must depend on those two great commandments – to love God and to love one another.
‘Now if I cast out the demons by Beelzebul, by whom do your exorcists cast them out?’ (Luke 11: 19) … an image at La Lonja de la Seda in Valencia (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Today’s Prayers (Friday 10 October 2025):
The theme this week (5 to 11 October) in Pray with the World Church, the prayer diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), is ‘Disability inclusion in Zimbabwe’ (pp 44-45). This theme was introduced on Sunday with Reflections from Makomborero Bowa, Lecturer in the Department of Philosophy Religion and Ethics in the University of Zimbabwe.
The USPG Prayer Diary today (Friday 10 2025) invites us to pray:
Thank you, Lord Jesus, for the way you perfectly modelled care and compassion.
The Collect:
God our Saviour,
who sent Paulinus to preach and to baptize,
and so to build up your Church in this land:
grant that, inspired by his example,
we may tell all the world of your truth,
that with him we may receive the reward
you prepare for all your faithful servants;
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:
Holy Father,
who gathered us here around the table of your Son
to share this meal with the whole household of God:
in that new world where you reveal
the fullness of your peace,
gather people of every race and language
to share with Paulinus and all your saints
in the eternal banquet of Jesus Christ our Lord.
Yesterday’s Reflections
Continued Tomorrow
‘Time present and time past / Are both perhaps present in time future / And time future contained in time past’ (TS Eliot, ‘Burnt Norton’) … the clock on Donegall House in Lichfield (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
18 September 2025
The ‘Little Admiral’ is still
missing from Saint Martin’s
in York, but the church’s
quest for peace continues
The ‘Little Admiral’ has been missing from the clock at Saint Martin Le Grand in York for four years (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Patrick Comerford
The ‘Little Admiral’ has been missing from the clock at the Church of Saint Martin Le Grand in York for four years or more and was something of a landmark in the city.
Many people have memories of the ‘Little Admiral’ dressed in 18th century attire standing on top of the clock on the Coney Street façade or east end of the church on Coney Street, taking sightings of the sun with his sextant.
He has been missing for a long time now, though there are assurances that he is in safe hands with the Cumbria Clock Company which is repairing cracks in his wooden body.
The admiral is almost 250 years old, and he has had to cope with wind, rain and all types of weather. He is said to date back to 1778, and for centuries he sat on a revolving mechanism that turns on the strike of each hour.
Indeed, there has been a clock at the church since the late 17th century. The first clock on Saint Martin Le Grand was fixed to the east wall in 1688. It was replaced in 1778 and when this clock was replaced in 1856 the Little Admiral was transferred to the new timepiece. Sitting on top of the clock, the naval officer was poised taking an observation of the sun.
A gilded head on the clock represents Father Time (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
The gilded head on the other side of the clock represents Father Time. It replaced the original head, damaged when York was bombed during World War II. The clock and the Little Admiral and Father Time have survived many restorations over the years. The clock has been restored several times, including following the bombing of Coney Street in 1942 by the Nazis, and the clock mechanism was restored by George Newey & Son during the restorations of the church in 1966.
Originally, the Little Admiral rotated to follow the sun, but with 21st century electronic programming he also revolved when the hour strikes. But he was taken down at the end of 2021 because the figure was damaged.
Canon Liz Hassall, priest-in-charge of York City Centre Churches, said at the time that the Little Admiral was taken down when a routine maintenance inspection revealed splits and other damage to the figure.
He was sent to a specialist workshop in Carlisle, the Cumbria Clock Company, for repair, but there are no signs yet of him making a return. Since then expert advice has been sought to identify appropriate conservation expertise. The figure received some initial preventative treatment, and he is now with a specialist conservator for endorsement of restoration proposals before permissions are sought.
‘This will take some time and an early return is most unlikely,’ Canon Hassall told local media. ‘There will be clear publicity when the figure is to return.’
Saint Martin’s Church was extensively remodelled and rebuilt in 1961-1968 to designs by George Gaze Pace (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Coney Street is one of the principal pedestrianised streets in the heart of York, and Saint Martin’s Church at the north end of the street, within York’s central core conservation area, is listed Grade II*.
In the past, Saint Martin’s was a prominent parish church in York and was one of the more prominent and substantial of the mediaeval parish churches, so that it became known as Saint Martin-le-Grand.
Saint Martin’s dates from the 12th century but it was developed and rebuilt over successive centuries, ultimately comprising a nave with clerestories, south and north aisles, an early 15th century tower and a south porch added in restorations carried out in the mid-19th century.
The church is surrounded by other buildings in a way that typifies the density of mediaeval cities. To the south and west there is a flagged area that is the remnant of the closed churchyard.
When the Mansion House was built nearby as the residence of the Lord Mayor in 1730, Saint Martin’s became the official civic church.
Saint Martin’s was merged with nearby Saint Helen Stonegate in 1910. A generation later, the church was bombed in 1942 and much of it was destroyed in the fire that followed.
Saint Martin’s was left a ruin after World War II and services were moved to Saint Helen Stonegate. It was reduced to the status of a chapel of ease in 1954, and stood desolate until restoration work began in 1961.
The restored south porch of Saint Martin-le-Grand Church in York (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
The church was extensively remodelled and rebuilt in 1961-1968 to designs by George Gaze Pace, and was re-consecrated as a ‘shrine of remembrance for all men who died in the two world wars’ and as ‘a chapel of peace and reconciliation between nations and between men.’
It is said to be the largest complete church restoration project by Pace. It now includes the south-west tower, the south porch, a nave fashioned from the former south aisle, a short north transept and a narrow north aisle. The rest of the site, including all of the original north aisle and the majority of the nave was transformed into an enclosed courtyard garden all to Pace’s design.
The square tower has three stages topped with a gilded iron weather vane. The tower is perhaps the only part of Saint Martin’s that is visible from any distance through the cluttered roofscape of central York. The belfry has a full peal of eight bells that are rung regularly. The bells sound the hours for the Coney Street clock and, since 2012, specially composed quarter chimes. Bell ropes pass through the bell chamber and manual ringing is carried out from positions around the font.
Inside the church, the magnificent 15th century Saint Martin window was originally the great West window of Saint Martin’s. It was given in 1437 by Robert Semer, Vicar of Saint Martin’s in 1425-1443.
The window was taken down in 1940 for safekeeping and so survived the war-time destruction. Pace designed the reconstructed north transept to display the masterpieces in its full glory.
At the East End, the reredos depicting the Last Supper was designed by Frank Roper in 1968. The modern East window by Harry Stammers (1965) depicts the church engulfed in flames in 1942.
Holy Communion is celebrated in Saint Martin’s Church each Wednesday at 12:15.
The enclosed courtyard garden is a reflective space dedicated to remembrance and to the maintenance of peace (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
The enclosed courtyard garden occupies the site of the destroyed greater part of the church. This dates from the Pace restoration and is intended as a reflective space dedicated to remembrance and to the maintenance of peace. The features of the garden include a symbolic tree, a reflective pool of water as the source of life. But as it is inward looking, it becomes an expression of spirituality.
Access to the courtyard has been designed intentionally to be a non-direct path. It is reached through a gateway or through the church. ‘We travel a long and winding path in our lives, and our lives are enriched by it. The route in reflects a pilgrimage and access was not supposed to be direct. The imagery here is the contrast between the world in the street and the city outside and the garden “paradise” within.’
The church is named after Saint Martin of Tours, the patron saint of soldiers, whose Feast Day is 11 November, which is also Armistice Day. Today, Saint Martin’s is a mere fragment of the mediaeval original, but it is now a haven of calm in the heart of York.
Fragments of the original mediaeval work at Saint Martin-le-Grand Church in York (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Patrick Comerford
The ‘Little Admiral’ has been missing from the clock at the Church of Saint Martin Le Grand in York for four years or more and was something of a landmark in the city.
Many people have memories of the ‘Little Admiral’ dressed in 18th century attire standing on top of the clock on the Coney Street façade or east end of the church on Coney Street, taking sightings of the sun with his sextant.
He has been missing for a long time now, though there are assurances that he is in safe hands with the Cumbria Clock Company which is repairing cracks in his wooden body.
The admiral is almost 250 years old, and he has had to cope with wind, rain and all types of weather. He is said to date back to 1778, and for centuries he sat on a revolving mechanism that turns on the strike of each hour.
Indeed, there has been a clock at the church since the late 17th century. The first clock on Saint Martin Le Grand was fixed to the east wall in 1688. It was replaced in 1778 and when this clock was replaced in 1856 the Little Admiral was transferred to the new timepiece. Sitting on top of the clock, the naval officer was poised taking an observation of the sun.
A gilded head on the clock represents Father Time (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
The gilded head on the other side of the clock represents Father Time. It replaced the original head, damaged when York was bombed during World War II. The clock and the Little Admiral and Father Time have survived many restorations over the years. The clock has been restored several times, including following the bombing of Coney Street in 1942 by the Nazis, and the clock mechanism was restored by George Newey & Son during the restorations of the church in 1966.
Originally, the Little Admiral rotated to follow the sun, but with 21st century electronic programming he also revolved when the hour strikes. But he was taken down at the end of 2021 because the figure was damaged.
Canon Liz Hassall, priest-in-charge of York City Centre Churches, said at the time that the Little Admiral was taken down when a routine maintenance inspection revealed splits and other damage to the figure.
He was sent to a specialist workshop in Carlisle, the Cumbria Clock Company, for repair, but there are no signs yet of him making a return. Since then expert advice has been sought to identify appropriate conservation expertise. The figure received some initial preventative treatment, and he is now with a specialist conservator for endorsement of restoration proposals before permissions are sought.
‘This will take some time and an early return is most unlikely,’ Canon Hassall told local media. ‘There will be clear publicity when the figure is to return.’
Saint Martin’s Church was extensively remodelled and rebuilt in 1961-1968 to designs by George Gaze Pace (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
Coney Street is one of the principal pedestrianised streets in the heart of York, and Saint Martin’s Church at the north end of the street, within York’s central core conservation area, is listed Grade II*.
In the past, Saint Martin’s was a prominent parish church in York and was one of the more prominent and substantial of the mediaeval parish churches, so that it became known as Saint Martin-le-Grand.
Saint Martin’s dates from the 12th century but it was developed and rebuilt over successive centuries, ultimately comprising a nave with clerestories, south and north aisles, an early 15th century tower and a south porch added in restorations carried out in the mid-19th century.
The church is surrounded by other buildings in a way that typifies the density of mediaeval cities. To the south and west there is a flagged area that is the remnant of the closed churchyard.
When the Mansion House was built nearby as the residence of the Lord Mayor in 1730, Saint Martin’s became the official civic church.
Saint Martin’s was merged with nearby Saint Helen Stonegate in 1910. A generation later, the church was bombed in 1942 and much of it was destroyed in the fire that followed.
Saint Martin’s was left a ruin after World War II and services were moved to Saint Helen Stonegate. It was reduced to the status of a chapel of ease in 1954, and stood desolate until restoration work began in 1961.
The restored south porch of Saint Martin-le-Grand Church in York (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
The church was extensively remodelled and rebuilt in 1961-1968 to designs by George Gaze Pace, and was re-consecrated as a ‘shrine of remembrance for all men who died in the two world wars’ and as ‘a chapel of peace and reconciliation between nations and between men.’
It is said to be the largest complete church restoration project by Pace. It now includes the south-west tower, the south porch, a nave fashioned from the former south aisle, a short north transept and a narrow north aisle. The rest of the site, including all of the original north aisle and the majority of the nave was transformed into an enclosed courtyard garden all to Pace’s design.
The square tower has three stages topped with a gilded iron weather vane. The tower is perhaps the only part of Saint Martin’s that is visible from any distance through the cluttered roofscape of central York. The belfry has a full peal of eight bells that are rung regularly. The bells sound the hours for the Coney Street clock and, since 2012, specially composed quarter chimes. Bell ropes pass through the bell chamber and manual ringing is carried out from positions around the font.
Inside the church, the magnificent 15th century Saint Martin window was originally the great West window of Saint Martin’s. It was given in 1437 by Robert Semer, Vicar of Saint Martin’s in 1425-1443.
The window was taken down in 1940 for safekeeping and so survived the war-time destruction. Pace designed the reconstructed north transept to display the masterpieces in its full glory.
At the East End, the reredos depicting the Last Supper was designed by Frank Roper in 1968. The modern East window by Harry Stammers (1965) depicts the church engulfed in flames in 1942.
Holy Communion is celebrated in Saint Martin’s Church each Wednesday at 12:15.
The enclosed courtyard garden is a reflective space dedicated to remembrance and to the maintenance of peace (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
The enclosed courtyard garden occupies the site of the destroyed greater part of the church. This dates from the Pace restoration and is intended as a reflective space dedicated to remembrance and to the maintenance of peace. The features of the garden include a symbolic tree, a reflective pool of water as the source of life. But as it is inward looking, it becomes an expression of spirituality.
Access to the courtyard has been designed intentionally to be a non-direct path. It is reached through a gateway or through the church. ‘We travel a long and winding path in our lives, and our lives are enriched by it. The route in reflects a pilgrimage and access was not supposed to be direct. The imagery here is the contrast between the world in the street and the city outside and the garden “paradise” within.’
The church is named after Saint Martin of Tours, the patron saint of soldiers, whose Feast Day is 11 November, which is also Armistice Day. Today, Saint Martin’s is a mere fragment of the mediaeval original, but it is now a haven of calm in the heart of York.
Fragments of the original mediaeval work at Saint Martin-le-Grand Church in York (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)
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