Showing posts with label pacifism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pacifism. Show all posts

19 August 2026

A reminder in Bloomsbury
of the ‘Russell Paradox’
and a reminder to visit
the barber for a haircut

Russell Chambers on Bury Street in Bloomsbury … Bertrand Russell lived in flat No 34 from 1911 to 1916 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2026)

Patrick Comerford

I think I need a haircut, and there is no shortage of barbers in Stony Stratford to pick and choose from. But when I was thinking about the Hotel Russell and Russell Square in a blog posting yesterday (18 August 2026), I was reminded of the ‘Barber’s Paradox’.

I ask you to imagine a village that has only one barber who shaves all men, and only those men, who do not shave themselves.

At first glance, this seems like a perfectly reasonable way to run a business in a small town. The men who want to save money shave themselves at home, and the rest go to the barber. But the scenario begins to fall apart when you ask: ‘Who shaves the barber?’

If the barber shaves himself, he violates the communal understanding that he only shaves people who do not shave themselves. Therefore, he cannot shave himself. But if he does not shave himself, he falls into the category of the men in the village who do not shave themselves.

According to the principle, the barber must shave everyone in this category. Therefore, he must shave himself. He needs to shave himself if – and only if – he does not shave himself. This creates a conundrum and an infinite, unbreakable loop of contradiction.

The reason a village with these rules cannot exist in real life has nothing to do with physics, geography, or human behaviour. It cannot exist because the rule itself is a logical contradiction.

Asking me to find such a village is like asking me to draw a four-sided triangle, to square the circle, to find a married bachelor, or to calculate the square root of -1. The words in the definition cancel each other out. The barber who is defined by such an exact, unbending parameter is a mathematical impossibility masquerading as a physical person. As soon as I define the parameters of the village, I have defined a place that cannot logically exist in the universe.

Epimenidou Street in Rethymnon … a reminder of the ‘Epimenides Paradox’ and a philosopher from Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

The ‘barber’s paradox’ reminds me of Epimenides (Ἐπιμενίδης) of Knossos, the semi-mythical philosopher and poet from Crete who is said to have lived in the 7th or 6th century BCE, who gives his name to the ‘Epimenides Paradox’, a variation of the ‘Liar Paradox’.

It is said that while Epimenides was tending his father’s sheep, he fell asleep for 57 years in a cave in Crete that was sacred to Zeus. When he awoke after 57 years, Epimenides is said to have found he was endowed the gift of prophecy.

Epimenides is quoted twice in the New Testament. While speaking to a group of Epicurean and Stoic philosophers in front of the Areopagus in Athens (see Acts 17: 22-34), Saint Paul quotes from Epimenides’ Cretica: ‘In him we live and move and have our being’ (verse 28). Saint Paul is citing the fourth line in the Hymn to Zeus of Callimachus, with its reference to one of ‘your own poets’ (Acts 17: 28). In the same address, Saint Paul also quotes from Aratus’ Phaenomena: ‘For we too are his offspring’ (verse 28).

When Saint Paul spoke to Saint Titus about his mission in Crete, he committed a logical fallacy by quoting Epimenides: ‘It was one of them, their very own prophet, who said, ‘Cretans are always liars, vicious brutes, lazy gluttons.’ That testimony is true’ (Titus 1: 12-13a).

The ‘lie’ of the Cretans is that Zeus was mortal, for Epimenides believed that Zeus is dead. The logical inconsistency of a Cretan asserting all Cretans are always liars may not have occurred to Epimenides, nor to Callimachus, who both used the phrase to emphasise their point, without irony.

However, Saint Paul must have thought long about the idea of a dead god and whether the god’s tomb was dead as he sought to preach the Resurrection in Crete.

Epimenides is first identified as the ‘prophet’ in Titus 1: 12 by Clement of Alexandria (Stromata 1, 14). Clement mentions that ‘some say’ Epimenides should be counted among the seven wisest philosophers.

However, it is not clear when Epimenides became associated with the Epimenides paradox, a variation of the liar paradox. Saint Augustine restates the closely related liar paradox in Against the Academicians (III.13.29), but he does so without mentioning Epimenides. In the Middle Ages, many forms of the liar paradox were studied under the heading of insolubilia, but they were not associated with Epimenides.

Epimenides Street is a street I know well in the old town of Rethymnon in Crete. Is it paradoxical that I I have found the restaurateurs and tavern owners of Epimenidou Street, like all their fellow Cretans, to be truthful and honest? Many years ago, back in the 1980s, as I entrusted someone in Rethymnon with my wallet and valuables as I went for a swim, I was advised that it was tourists and foreigners I needed to watch out for.

The British Museum on Great Russell Street (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

The ‘barber’s paradox’, which retells the ‘liar’s paradox’ or the Epimenides paradox, is also a retelling of ‘Russell’s Paradox’, which was formulated by the philosopher Bertrand Russell (1872-1970) in 1901. Russell articulated a massive flaw he had just discovered in logic, now known as ‘Russell’s Paradox’ and, at the time, it must have seemed to many that he had broken the foundations of mathematics.

Mathematicians in those days believed that a ‘set’ could be defined by any condition you could describe. Russell used the paradox to prove that naive set theory was fundamentally broken. If you can define a set as ‘the set of all sets that do not contain themselves’, you create the exact same mathematical paradox as the barber.

Russell’s thought experiment forced the entire field of mathematics to rewrite its foundational axioms to prevent self-contradicting sets from being formed.

At times I am reminded of ‘Russell’s Paradox’ when I walk along Bury Place, close to the British Museum on Great Russell Street, and see a Blue Plaque that reads: ‘Bertrand Russell 1872-1970 Philosopher and Campaigner for Peace lived here in flat No 34 1911-1916’. The building was originally ‘No 3 Russell Chambers’ and is now labelled ‘Russell Chambers, Flats 25-36’.

Russell moved into an unfurnished flat No 34 at Russell Chambers in November 1911 to be close to Lady Ottoline Morrell (1873-1938), the literary society hostess who lived nearby at 44 Bedford Square in Bloomsbury. Ottoline met Russell for the first time since childhood at his home in Bagley Wood in September 1908, but their affair did not begin until 1911.

Much of the Bloomsbury area of London has been owned by Russell’s cousins, the Dukes of Bedford, for centuries. Russell’s grandfather, Lord John Russell, was a younger son of the sixth duke. The Bedford Estates still own large sections of Bloomsbury, and many of the names of the streets, squares, hotels, apartment buildings and a tube station reflect the family’s names and titles, including Russell, Bedford, Tavistock and Woburn.

Bertrand Russell had lived mainly at Trinity College Cambridge, where he was a fellow. But he took lodgings in Ipsden to be near Ottoline in the Chilterns in July 1911. She helped him to furnish the flat he rented in Bury Street, near the British Museum.

Russell chose the flat himself after looking at flats on Wells Street, off Oxford Street. The fourth floor flat in the red brick building measured 754 sq feet, and had a reception room, a main bedroom, a bathroom, kitchen, and a small room off the kitchen that was used as a study, a sitting room and a bedroom.

Among the guests there was the philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein who stayed there on 3 October 1913. Russell wrote to Ottoline: ‘Wittgenstein stayed last night and read me bits of work he has done.’

Russell let TS Eliot and his wife Vivien use the room off the kitchen in 1915 because they were ‘desperately poor’. Vivien’s brother Maurice Haigh-Wood (1896-1980) described it as ‘a tiny cupboard room behind the kitchen’ and since Vivien had brought ‘a single cot-bed’ to furnish it, Eliot ‘slept in the hallway in a deck-chair’.

Russell was dismissed from Trinity College Cambridge in 1916 because of his opposition to World War I and so he lost his main source of income. His affair with Ottoline was also ending, and his affair with Constance (Colette) Malleson was beginning. He moved from Russell Chambers in April to rooms in 46 Gordon Square and then in August to 57 Gordon Square. He sub-let his Russell Chambers flat, and eventually went to prison that year as a pacifist.

After World War I, Russell considered keeping on the flat for his own use but concluded he could not afford it. Frank Swinnerton, an author and editor at Chatto and Windus, was a tenant at Russell Chambers until 1923, paying Russell 3 guineas a week for the furnished flat until Russell’s involvement with the first and the last home that was his alone formally came to an end.

Meanwhile, Russell was reinstated by Trinity College Cambridge in 1919, resigned in 1920, was Tarner Lecturer in 1926 and became a Fellow again in 1944-1949. He had succeeded as 3rd Earl Russell in 1931 and many of my age and generation rememember him not only as a philosopher but as active pacifist and a leading figure in CND, the Committee of 100 and the Aldermaston marches. He died on 2 February 1970.

Russell Chambers was selected by English Heritage for a blue plaque commemorating Bertrand Russell. The plaque was unveiled by his son Conrad Russell (1937-2004), 5th Earl Russell, on 6 June 2002.

As for the Barber’s Paradox, the popular retelling of Russell’s Paradox, it collapses with all its presupposition if the only barber in the village is a woman. She can shave as many men – and women – she wants to without any concerns about philosophical parameters.

I never had that haircut today. I must choose one of the barber shops in Stony Stratford to visit tomorrow.

Bertrand Russell (1872-1970), 3rd Earl Russell, philosopher, mathematician and peace campaigner, remembered in the chapel in Trinity College, Cambridge (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

06 August 2026

Daily prayer in Ordinary Time 2026:
91, Thursday 6 August 2026,
The Transfiguration

The Transfiguration depicted in the Church of the Transfiguration in Piskopianó, in the hills above Hersonissos in Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford; click on image for full-screen viewing)

Patrick Comerford

We are continuing in Ordinary Time in the Church Calendar and the week began with the Ninth Sunday after Trinity (Trinity IX, 2 August 2026). The Church Calendar today celebrates the Feast of the Transfiguration (6 August 2026).

Today also marks the 81sh anniversary of the atomic bombing of Hiroshima on 6 August 1945. To mark this anniversary later this evening, Charlotte and I plan to take part in the annual Hiroshima Day commemorations at the Japanese Peace Pagoda beside Willen Lake in Milton Keynes, a ceremony we have been attending for the past five years.

The Anglican Pacifist Fellowship and Christian CND are also marking Hiroshima Day with an online prayer vigil at 8 pm this evening, gathering to remember, pray and renew a shared commitment to peace. Coventry Cathedral is holding its annual Hiroshima Day Remembrance at 6 pm. The evening includes a reflection from CND General Secretary Sophie Bolt, Taiko drumming, an exchange of messages with Hiroshima, and a paper crane workshop.

I visited Hiroshima when I was a student in Japan in 1979, and for over 40 years I took part in Irish CND’s Hiroshima Day commemorations in Merrion Park, Dublin. During the day, I shall be remembering the many victims of the Hiroshima and the survivors, and praying for all who campaign for peace and an end to war throughout the world. But, before today begins, I am taking some quiet time this morning to give thanks, for reflection, prayer and reading in these ways:

1, today’s Gospel reading;

2, a reflection on the Gospel reading;

3, a prayer from the USPG prayer diary;

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

The Church of the Transfiguration in Piskopianó in the mountains above Hersonissos in Crete was established in 2002, completed in 2008 and dedicated in 2014 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Luke 9: 28-36 (NRSVA):

28 Now about eight days after these sayings Jesus took with him Peter and John and James, and went up on the mountain to pray. 29 And while he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white. 30 Suddenly they saw two men, Moses and Elijah, talking to him. 31 They appeared in glory and were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem. 32 Now Peter and his companions were weighed down with sleep; but since they had stayed awake, they saw his glory and the two men who stood with him. 33 Just as they were leaving him, Peter said to Jesus, ‘Master, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah’ – not knowing what he said. 34 While he was saying this, a cloud came and overshadowed them; and they were terrified as they entered the cloud. 35 Then from the cloud came a voice that said, ‘This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!’ 36 When the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. And they kept silent and in those days told no one any of the things they had seen.

The Transfiguration (Metamorphosis) … an icon by Hanna-Leena Ward in her recent exhibition in Lichfield Cathedral (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2026)

Today’s Reflection:

My mind is focussed this morning on the hoorrors of the Hiroshima bombing on 6 August 1945. I visited Hiroshima when I was on a student fellowship in Japan in 1979, and the sheer horror and terror I tapped into during that visit has never left me. And I continue to fret at the consequences of the world having ignored the lessons we should have learned from Hiroshima over the past 81 years.

In recent days, Trump has warned that the US is still ‘locked and loaded’ and prepared for ‘levels of Military Terror, Strength, and Power not seen since World War II’, that he is considering a massive attack’ on war that will be ‘bigger than ever before’, In other words, in his wicked and vile moments, does he thinks it is his right – please take some moments to ponder this – to threaten to unleash terror that is greater than the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, than the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Does he mean even greater than the Holocaust?

But ever since my visit to Hiroshima, for me, the bright light that vaporised the city and hundreds of thousands of people on 6 August 1945 has been in shap contrast to the hope offered by the Transfiguration, a feast celebrated each year on 6 August.

During my recent return visits to Crete, staying in Rethymnon for the Greek celebrations of Easter, I have also returned to the village of Piskopianó in the hillside above Hersonissos, which I have known for more than 30 years, since the mid-1990s.

The new village church in Piskopianó, which has been renamed the Church of the Transfiguration, was built in 2002-2008 and was dedicated in 2014. A fresco of the Transfiguration in the church shows, on the left, Christ leading the three disciples, Peter, James and John, up the mountain; in the centre, these three disciples are stumbling and falling as they witness and experience the Transfiguration; and then, to the right, Christ is leading these three back down the side of the mountain.

In other words, we are invited to see the Transfiguration not as a static moment but as a dynamic event. It is a living event in which we are invited to move from all in the past that weighs us down, to experience the full life that Christ offers us today, and to bring this into how we live our lives as Disciples in the future, a future that begins here and now.

The Transfiguration is both an event and a process. The original Greek word for Transfiguration in the Gospels is μεταμόρφωσις (metamorphosis), which means ‘to progress from one state of being to another.’ Consider the metamorphosis of the chrysalis into the butterfly. Saint Paul uses the same word (μεταμόρφωσις) when he describes how the Christian is to be transfigured, transformed, into the image of Christ (II Corinthians 3: 18).

This metamorphosis invites us into the event of becoming what we have been created to be. This is what Orthodox writers call deification. Transfiguration is a profound change, by God, in Christ, through the Spirit. And so, the Transfiguration reveals to us our ultimate destiny as Christians, the ultimate destiny of all people and all creation – to be transformed and glorified by the majestic splendour of God himself.

The Transfiguration points to Christ’s great and glorious Second Coming and the fulfilment of the Kingdom of God, when all of creation shall be transfigured and filled with light.

According to Saint Gregory Palamas, the light of the Transfiguration ‘is not something that comes to be and then vanishes.’ It not only prefigures the eternal blessedness that all Christians look forward to, but also the Kingdom of God already revealed, realised and come.

The Transfiguration is described in the three Synoptic Gospels (see Matthew 17: 1-9; Mark 9: 2-8; Luke 9: 28-36), and all three accounts are very similar in wording.

The Transfiguration is an encounter with God as the Trinity; it is a reminder with the presence of Moses and Elijah that Christ is the fulfilment of the Law and the Prophets; it is a meeting of past, present and future; and it is a reminder of how frail is our humanity in the responses of the three Disciples present, Peter, James and John.

The Transfiguration is a reminder that God has created us in God’s image and likeness, that in Christ’s Incarnation, God took on our image and likeness, and that now we are called once again to take on the image and likeness of God.

In a lecture in Cambridge many years ago [2011], I heard the late Metropolitan Kallistos [Ware], who was the pre-eminent Orthodox theologian in England, speak of the Transfiguration as a disclosure not only of what God is but of what we are. It reminds us of our beginning, but also reminds us of the possibilities and the potentials of what it is to become like God once again.

But is the response of the disciples to the Transfiguration one that we should imitate or emulate?

As they hear the voice of God, they fall down in terror, they are overcome by fear, they are made speechless.

They are immobilised and when they think of acting, look at what they want to do: they want to put up three booths, or tents, or dwelling places, in which they can keep Jesus and Moses and Elijah. It is as if, frightened of the new, they want to fall back on the old certainties.

It is as if they want to contain God, to capture God, to keep God in a place where they can be assured of the old certainties, to turn God into a god that they can contain, capture and control. They want to put God in a box, to keep God in a box.

And, so often, instead of wanting to be in the image and likeness of God, people want God to be in our image and likeness, doing our bidding rather than listening to what God wants of us.

Seeking to capture God, to make God a captive and to control God, are strong religious instincts throughout history. In the 20th century, Hitler used the German Churches to control the people of Germany. In more recent years, the simple faith of many American people has been hijacked to support extreme politics in a land that once prided itself on the separation of state and religion.

This is what Professor Rachel S Mikva of Chicago Theological Seminary describes as ‘dangerous religious ideas’ (Dangerous Religious Ideas: The Deep Roots of Self-Critical Faith in Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, Penguin, 2020).

In an ‘Opinion’ column for USA Today in the wake of Donald Trump’s attempt to storm the Capitol in Washington on 6 January 2021, she argued that ‘Religion is a dangerous business.’ In the response to the insurrection and violence in Washington, she tried to go beyond the revulsion all of us must feel when white Christian nationalism turns violent, and she drew attention to the ‘substantial number of Christians who plan to take the country for Jesus another way.’

The Christian right is ‘distorting the very meaning of religious freedom,’ she wrote. There is the obvious danger we have seen recently, with extremists who call themselves Christians ‘ready to bring on the apocalypse.’

But she warns of ‘a more resilient threat’ posed by people who claim the mantle of being Christians and who are ‘embedded throughout the governing institutions in the US – courts, military, legislatures, agencies and the police.’ In her words, they pose a real threat ‘to religious pluralism in the United States.’

She argued cogently for the need for ‘consciousness of the vital self-critical dimensions of faith,’ and said: ‘Whatever one’s spiritual life stance, we are choosing in every moment whether its power will be wielded for harm or for blessing.’

Power for harm; or power for blessing.

Do we want to keep God in a box as a power for harm; or do we really want to see God being God, and empowering us to be a power for blessing in the world?

I see this as the first great challenge posed by the Transfiguration.

And the second is like unto it: to see humanity as Christ in the Transfiguration would see us and would have us see each other.

Do I, so often, put people in a box in a way that denies they are made in the image and likeness of God? That they are called to become, once again, like God in Christ … what the Orthodox call ‘deification’ …?

Every time I dismiss someone because of their social background, where they were born, their gender, sexuality, ethnicity or parentage, I am making these differences more important than the way God sees them: made in God’s image and likeness, and holding, embodying the light of God in Christ.

Because those characteristics, those traits, are not self-chosen; they come at birth, we do not ask for them, you might say they are God-given. For, indeed, God sees us in God’s own image and likeness, God sees in each one of us the potential to reflect the light of Christ in the Transfiguration.

Let’s not box God in, hidden away under a booth or in a tent. Let God be God, and let’s stop trying to control him by using him to our political and social advantage.

Let’s stop categorising people so we marginalise them instead of seeing them in God’s image and likeness.

For, when we love God and love others, we see the light of God in them and, hopefully, they see the light of God in us.

When she was the guest chaplain in the House of Representatives in 1995, Rabbi Rachel Mikva included these thoughts in her prayers:

However passionately we may cling to our vision of truth,
we must never fail to recognise your image, God,
reflected in the face of the other …

Ultimately, we stand before you,
naked of power or possessions,
seeking only to understand your will
and do it with a whole heart …

God, we pray that our words and our deeds
may be for Your sake,
bringing healing to our world
and wholeness to all those whose lives we touch.

Amen. אָמֵן׃

The Transfiguration … an icon in the Lady Chapel in Lichfield Cathedral (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Today’s Prayers (Thursday 6 August 2026, The Transfiguration):

In Pray with the World Church, the prayer diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), the theme this week (2-8 August 2026, pp 24-25), is ‘Faith Under Pressure in Nicaragua’. This theme was introduced on Sunday with a Reflection by the Most Revd Juan David Alvarado, Bishop of El Salvador and Primate of the Province of the Anglican Church in Central America.

The USPG prayer diary today (Thursday 6 August 2026) invites us to pray:

Almighty God, in the Transfiguration you revealed Christ’s glory to his disciples. Strengthen us as your Church to hear your voice, bear our cross, and reflect your light in the world.

An icon of the Transfiguration in the Church of the Transfiguration in Piskopianó (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

The Collect:

Father in heaven,
whose Son Jesus Christ was wonderfully transfigured
before chosen witnesses upon the holy mountain,
and spoke of the exodus he would accomplish at Jerusalem:
give us strength so to hear his voice and bear our cross
that in the world to come we may see him as he is;
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.

The Post Communion Prayer:

Holy God,
we see your glory in the face of Jesus Christ:
may we who are partakers at his table
reflect his life in word and deed,
that all the world may know his power to change and save.
This we ask through Jesus Christ our Lord.

The chapel on the highest peak on Mount Athos, at 2,033 metres, is dedicated to the Transfiguration (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Yesterday’s reflections

Continued tomorrow

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 Monastery of Great Meteoro, the largest of the monasteries at Meteora, is dedicated to the Transfiguration (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

31 January 2026

The resistance in Crete,
‘Water into Wine’, the Dance
of Love, and Bishop Stephen
Verney’s reluctant pacifism

‘Water into Wine’ (1985), Bishop Stephen Verney’s commentary on Saint John’s Gospel, drawing on his scholarly knowledge of Greek and insights from his experiences with the resistance in Crete

Patrick Comerford

When I was writing about the sundial at Dial House on Bristle Hill in Buckingham on Thursday (29 January 2026), I noted that the Latin inscription had been provided by Bishop Stephen Verney (1919-2009), who died only a year after the dial was installed by the late Anthony Randall (1933-2021).

Bishop Stephen has been described as ‘brave, open-thinking and creative’ with a ‘strong romantic side’. He had been a conscientious objector during World War II, but later became an undercover agent in occupied Crete, working with the Greek resistance. He was as an Oxford classicist and at one time his book Water into Wine (1985) had a profound influence on my understandings of Saint John’s Gospel.

Because of a combination of so many of his interests – classical Greek, early pacifism, the resistance in Crete, the Cross of Nails in Coventry Cathedral and Saint John’s Gospel – as well as his family links with Buckinghamshire, I said at the time I should return to his story in the days or weeks to come

The Gospel reading tomorrow, in those places where it is marked as the Fourth Sunday after Epiphany, is John 2: 1-11, the story of the Wedding at Cana and changing water into wine, which inspired that book by Stephen Verney, Water into Wine (1985), and I found myself this week trying to find one of my copies of this book.

Bishop Stephen Verney (1919-2009) has been described as ‘brave, open-thinking and creative’ with a ‘strong romantic side’

Stephen Edmund Verney was the second Bishop of Repton (1977-1985) and when he retired he was an honorary assistant bishop in the Diocese of Oxford. He was born on 17 April 1919 in Anglesey at his paternal grandmother’s home. His father, Sir Harry Verney (1881-1974), 4th Baronet, of Claydon House, had been the Liberal MP for Buckingham until 1918, held a number of junior ministerial posts and won a DSO in World War I. His maternal grandfather, Victor Alexander Bruce (1849-1917), 9th Earl of Elgin, was Viceroy of India in 1894-1899, and the family was also related to Florence Nightingale.

Stephen Verney spent his childhood at Claydon House, outside Winslow in Buckinghamshire. He went to school at Harrow and then to Balliol College, Oxford, in 1937 to take a classics degree. When World War II broke out, his brothers joined the armed forces. However, Stephen was a conscientious objector and chose to interrupt his university studies to work with the Quaker-run Friends’ Ambulance Unit in in Norway, Finland, Libya and Syria.

But as the war intensified, the Nazi campaign became demonstrably more evil. An incident in Aleppo that led Verney to the agonising decision to leave the Quakers and join the army, and he became a private in the Royal Army Service Corps. This took him to Egypt, and a chance encounter at a party in Cairo with his former headmaster at Harrow, Paul Vellacott (1891-1954), then the director of political warfare in the Middle East with the Political Warfare Executive (PWE).

Aware that Verney was a classicist who could easily master modern Greek, and whose shortness of stature and often scruffy appearance might enable him to pass for a Greek peasant, Vellacott persuaded Verney to join the PWE.

The shore at Preveli on the south coast of Crete … Stephen Verney was landed in Crete on a small boat in 1944

After initial involvement in black propaganda from Cairo, he was commissioned, and in August 1944 – disguised and accompanied by a German Jewish interpreter – he was sent to Crete by night in a small boat. On landing he was met by a Cretan ‘guardian angel’, who recruited a few others to form a cell under Verney’s leadership. With his expertise in classical Greek, it was an easy step to learn modern Greek, and because he was short and naturally dishevelled, it was said he could pass for a Greek peasant.

Verney and his team operated from a base outside Chania – home to the headquarters of the German commander in Crete. With the assistance of a German sergeant major who was in love with a Cretan woman and a Cretan journalist, he printed and distributed Kreta Post, a subtle propaganda paper, in German and Greek, from a cave outside Chania.

His newssheet created a false impression of the size of the resistance movement and that the occupation forces were cracking under the strain. He wrote frequently to the German commander, General Hans-Georg Benthack (1894-1973), telling him Kapitulation was the only real option. A graffiti campaign with the letter ‘K’ was launched, local boys daubed it in on walls, bridges and sentry boxes, and acid was used to etch it on military vehicles.

Verney and his partisans targeted dissatisfied German soldiers who rejected the Nazi regime, others who had fallen in love with Cretan girls, as well as Austrians, Poles and other nationals who had been forced unwillingly into the German army. He negotiated the release of several partisan prisoners by threatening to castrate ‘his’ German prisoners.

On one occasion, Verney was responsible for the mass desertion of Italians who had been fighting with the German army. After indirect contacts with their colonel, a disguised Verney crept into the camp hospital. The meeting was conducted with Verney stretched out on an operating table, the colonel hunched by him as if hearing his confession, while another officer played the part of a surgeon. Verney negotiated the defection of the whole battalion the next morning, and he arranged their evacuation after confiscating all their weapons.

Benthag formally, but secretly, surrendered to one of Verney’s fellow-officers on 8 May, and that evening the small group of British officers in the area invited the German officers who had been hunting them to a party in a café. A jazz band from the German garrison was pressed into service, and during the festivities Verney and the others disclosed their code names and true identities to their astonished guests, including some of the most detested men in the occupying army. All were immediately taken prisoner.

Following the German surrender of Crete, Verney he set up an exhibition of photographs received from recently liberated concentration camps. These were not believed by the still armed German soldiers and a grenade was left under his car.

Verney’s exploits in Crete were recognised after the war with a military MBE. I sometimes wonder whether anyone at the time knew that the man who played such a crucial role in the liberation of Greece was a direct descendant through his mother of Thomas Bruce (1766-1841), 7th Earl of Elgin, who plundered the Parthenon Marbles or Elgin Marbles from the Parthenon and other structures on the Acropolis of Athens almost a century and a half earlier.

The Suda Bay Commonwealth War Cemetery in Crete, near Chania … Stephen Verney’s exploits in Crete were recognised after the war with a military MBE (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)

Verney returned to Baliol College in 1946 to complete his degree in Oxford and married his first wife, Priscilla (‘Scilla’) Schwerdt, in 1947. He had been drawn by his wartime experience to ordained ministry, and so trained for the priesthood at Westcott House, Cambridge.

He was ordained deacon by Bishop Russell Barry of Southwell at Southwell Minster in 1950, and priest in 1951. He was a curate at Gedling, then the priest in charge of Saint Francis Clifton, Nottingham and Vicar of Leamington Hastings, often working in tough housing estates.

He moved to the Diocese of Coventry as the diocesan missioner in 1958, as Basil Spence’s new cathedral was rising from the ashes of the old cathedral. Cuthbert Bardsley was an enthusiastic new bishop, putting together a team of gifted clergy to develop a vibrant Christian life for the new cathedral. The slogan, ‘A consecrated building requires a consecrated people’, was adopted for a three-year period of preparation, and Verney was entrusted with the project.

Verney enthused people, combining an organising vision with deep spirituality. The Cross of Nails, formed of nails from timber in the ruined cathedral, was passed from parish to parish and made the focus of prayer vigils. By the time Coventry Cathedral was ready for consecration on 26 May 1962, the diocese was in a state of high expectancy and Verney’s leadership was a vital factor.

He was appointed a residentiary canon at Coventry Cathedral in 1964, and by then had become known as an energetic and informal priest within the radical tradition in the Church of England. The gifted team he was a central part of made the Coventry Cathedral a centre of creativity and theological thinking.

To mark the 50th anniversary of the foundation of the diocese in 1968, he organised an international conference on ‘People and Cities’, celebrating the benefits of urban life and confronting the problems of depersonalisation caused by the scale of modern cities. The participants included planners, philosophers and theologians, and some of the conference’s proposals eventually led to new approaches to urban planning.

In the conference book People and Cities (1969), Verney argued that the future of the Church’s work in cities lay in the formation of small groups, what he called ‘companies of forgiveness’. The book gave rise to the term ‘megalopolis’; it was an early warning about urban conglomeration and exploitation of the natural environment, had a discernable influence on the planners of the new city of Milton Keynes, and was a precursor of the Church of England report Faith in the City (1985).

At the conference, Verney met Fred Blum (1914-1990) who had founded the New Era Centre in 1967. Blum, who had been a Jewish refugee from Nazi Germany, had become a Quaker and was later ordained an Anglican priest. They became close friends and Verney became a trustee of the New Era Centre.

The Cross of Nails is at the heart of the ministry and outreach of Coventry Cathedral (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2023)

Verney became a residentiary canon at Saint George’s Chapel, Windsor, in 1970, and was responsible for Saint George’s House, the centre for discussions and conferences in Windsor Castle, organising conferences along ‘Chatham House’ rules. But he was challenged by the traditions and protocols at Saint George’s and when he tried to introduce contemporary worship and modern music he faced opposition and a sharp clash of personalities.

He was also a confessor and friend for ordination candidates at Ripon College, Cuddesdon, near Oxford, and became a spiritual adviser to the L’Arche community, working with people with learning difficulties. Its founder, Jean Varnier, shared Verney's passion for Saint John’s Gospel.

Scilla’s death in 1974 affected him profoundly. Three years later, he became the Suffragan Bishop of Repton in the Diocese of Derby and he was consecrated bishop by Archbishop Donald Coggan of Canterbury in Westminster Abbey in 1977.

In 1981, Stephen Verney married Sandra Bailey, a divorcee whose husband was still living. He was the first bishop to marry a divorced woman. The controversy that followed became a catalyst for permanent changes in the Church of England’s policies on divorce.

As a bishop, he cared warmly for his clergy, believing the church was too restrictive and cautious in matters of morality. He accepted relationships of all sorts so long as they were not exploitative, and was vocal on issues such as nuclear disarmament, just war, trade unions and capitalism, opposed capital punishment and advocated moving away from prison as punishment towards restorative justice.

He developed a ministry to articulate ecumenical groups disillusioned by their churches because of their priorities for maintain buildings or doctrinal differences, or for ostracising gay people or people seeking divorce or remarriage. He encouraged the distinction between church and faith, arguing that God is liberating, and established the retreat centre at Sutton Courtenay near Abingdon, Oxfordshire.

After eight years as Bishop of Repton, he retired to Blewbury in Oxfordshire in1985. In retirement, he was saddened by the pressures for narrowness and judgmentalism within the Anglican Communion, and used his linguistic skills for a sharp critique of fundamentalism in all forms.

He died on 9 November 2009 and was survived by Sandra and the children of his first marriage; a son from his second marriage predeceased him.

His book Fire in Coventry (1964) tells how the people of Coventry prepared for a new cathedral after World War II. In his posthumously published Snakes And Ladders (2016), he reflects on his whole life, from his childhood, his army service, his ordination, and his time in Coventry to his time as a bishop. His ideas found expression in three other small books – Into the New Age (1976), Water into Wine (1985) and The Dance of Love (1989) – each a combination of romanticism, vision and insight.

‘Fill the jars with water … and they filled them up to the brim’ (John 2: 7) … two large jars or pithoi at the Minoan palace in Knossos, Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

The Gospel reading tomorrow is Saint John’s account of the wedding at Cana (John 2: 1-11), long one of my favourite passages in the Gospels and the reading Charlotte and I chose for the blessing of our weddng in Southwark Cathedral in 2023. This story gave the title to Sttephen Verney’s commentary on Saint John’s Gospel, Water into Wine (1985). His intimate knowledge of Classical Greek served him well as a biblical commentator and the depth of his scholarship made him thoroughly familiar with New Testament Greek, so that he brought out nuances lost so often in English translations.

Water Into Wine is a beautiful book on Saint John’s Gospel, and I have lost many copies over the years, lending them to friends and students, then rummaging again in second-hand bookshops for fresh copies. It was first published in 1985, a year before Steven Verney retired as Bishop of Repton, the year of the miners’ strike and the riots in Handsworth, Brixton and Tottenham, and soon after the Falklands War in 1982 and the intense personal loss of a baby son.

In Water Into Wine, he ties his themes together well, using the Wedding at Cana as the first sign that gives context to the other signs Jesus performed. He draws on the Greek words ἄνω (ano) and κάτω (kato) as ways to understand Saint John’s Gospel. He points out how these two words are different orders, where order is the pattern and the governing principle behind the pattern.

In the order of kato, the ruling principle is me and the pattern is people competing, manipulating and trying to control each other. The order of ano, on the other hand has love as its governing principle and the pattern is one of compassion. The most urgent question confronting each of us, and humanity as a whole, he argues, is how these two orders can be reconciled.

He talks of how ‘the ruling principle is the Spirit of Love’ and of ‘people giving to each other what they really are, and accepting what others are, recognising their differences, and sharing their vulnerability.’

The insight into how Saint John’s Gospel that emerges is one of a carefully constructed narrative in which seemingly trivial details, such as the ‘third day’ in tomorrow’s Gospel reading (see John 2: 1), assume a new significance in the events of Holy Week. Verney includes vignettes from his long and varied life, including his time with the resistance in Crete, to illustrate aspects of the gospel.

He writes that ‘we can see in our world order the terrible consequences of our ego-centricity. We have projected it into our institutions, where it has swollen up into a positive force of evil. We are all imprisoned together, in a system of competing nation states, on the edge of a catastrophe which could destroy all life on our planet.’ He was writing in the 1980s but could have been describing today’s populism and nationalism.

The theme of the wedding feast at Cana at the beginning of Saint John’s Gospel points to another third day and to another marriage in eternity. This new age of eternal life begins on the third day after the death of Jesus at the Resurrection ‘and it continues in our experience.’

A new age begins with the crucifixion and resurrection, and Verney locates the new age in the ‘I AM’ sayings of Jesus and what they reveal of his relationship with God. In Jesus, there is a marriage of heaven and earth – a bringing together of ano and kato, up and down, water and wine – and we are called, by Jesus, to become part of that marriage. The marriage of heaven and earth reflects an even more astonishing union that Verney calls ‘The Dance of Love’.

Jesus does only what he sees the Father doing and the Father reveals to Jesus everything that he is doing. In that dance of love between them, says Jesus, ‘I and the Father are one.’ The Son cries, ‘Abba! Father!’ and the Father cries ‘my beloved Son’, and the love which leaps between them is Holy Spirit – the Spirit of God, God himself, for God is Spirit and God is Love.’

There is a relationship of love at the heart of the Godhead where love is constantly shared and exchanged and we are invited into that relationship of love. Becoming part of the Dance of Love through the marriage of heaven and earth is the new age into which we are born again through the death and resurrection of Jesus. To be born again in this way is to be raised from a consciousness that is really death into a quality of life that is eternal.

Stephen Verney's life is recalled in his posthumous ‘Snakes and Ladders’ (2016)

31 December 2025

2025: a year that must be
remembered for far more than
than Trump’s rule and his
violence, vulgarity and vitriol

The sun sets on another year … sunset beneath the Fortezza in Rethymnon earlier this year (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)

This year seems to have been dominated by war and violence in Russia and Ukraine, in Gaza, Israel and Palestine, continuing wars and violence involving the US, Iran, Yemen, Sudan and Nigeria, the continuing rise in antimsemitism, Islamophobia and racism everywhere, and by the upsurge in ugly right-wing nationalism in Britain and across the world that hijacks the name of Christianity and its symbolism without heeding any of its values, teachings or demands.

The changes in the world this year included the return of Donald Trump to power in the US, the death of Pope Francis, the election of Pope Leo, the resignation of Archbishop Justin Welby, and the appointment of his successor, Bishop Sarah Mullally.

This year also marked the 80th anniversaries of the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, the liberation of the death camps, the end of the Holocaust, VE Day and VJ Day, and the end of World War II. This year would also have marked the 80th anniversary of the marriage of my parents, who waited until the end of World War II to get married on 8 September 1945.

Michael D Higgins, who retired last month as President of Ireland after two seven-year terms of office, was a life-long supporter of CND and many other campaigns I was involved in. We have known each other since the Labour Party conference in Cork in 1973, and I only wish that the values that marked his 14-year presidency could be mirrored by other world leaders today.

With President Michael D Higgins and Brendan Howlin during the 2011 Presidential election campaign at the Wexford Ambassadors initiative in Iveagh House, Dublin … President Higgins retired last month after two seven-year terms in office

One of the emotional difficulties of having moved from Ireland to England is not being able to attend the funerals of dear friends and family members.

Don Buckley was a lifelong friend, a work colleague in The Irish Times for many decades, and my second cousin on the Crowley side of the family. His paternal grandmother and my maternal grandmother were sisters, and although his family live in Mallow, Co Cork, I knew him since childhood due to the amount of time he spent in hospitals in Dublin because of his haemophilia.

He encouraged me to follow him into journalism, and visited me in Wexford while I was with the Wexford People trying to persuade me to move to The Irish Times. He was a brave and pioneering journalist, who achieved national prominence for his work on fake charities, the ‘Heavy Gang’ and the ‘Kerry Babies’ case. He was a bon viveur and I enjoyed his parties and dinners, but we also shared similar political values and hopes and many cultural interests.

Other former colleagues from those days in The Irish Times who died during the years include Johnny Hughes, Ed Moloney, a former Northern Editor, Mickey McConnell and the writer Mary Russell, and Philip Molloy from my days with the Wexford People.

Father Louis Brennan, who died on 12 August, had been the Rector of Gormanston, and was perhaps the most inspiring teacher I had in my schooldays. He encouraged my interests in debating, drama and development and human rights issues, got me on stage, involved me in carol singing at Christmas, and counted me in on a drama production during the Easter holidays in 1969. Later, he was Minister Provincial of the Franciscan Province of Ireland, Definitor General of the Order, Secretary General of the Order.

Canon Billy Marshall, who died at the age of 90 on 26 September, had been the Vice-Principal of the Church of Ireland Theological College when I was training for ordination, and our lives overlapped in many ways. The Revd Canon Dr William John Marshall had spent a decade in North India with the Dublin University Mission to Chota Nagpur and USPG (1962-1972). Back in Ireland, he was Assistant Chaplain at Trinity College Dublin (1973-1976), where he completed his doctoral research on the Church of North India, and later was the Rector of Rathmichael (1976-1992), Chancellor of Christ Church Cathedral (1990-2002), and Vice-Principal of CITC (1992-2002).

He was a life-long supporter of USPG and he was one of the ‘go-to’ people when I was planning doctoral research on Irish Anglican missionaries. He continued his engagement with both CITC (later CITI) when I was on the staff and with Christ Church Cathedral when I was a chapter member.

Canon Walter Lewis died on 5 March aged 79. I first got to know him when I was on a student placement with the Irish School of Ecumenics on the Shankill Road in Belfast in the early 1980s. His style of ministry then impressed me so much that he was one of three priests I later asked to sign my pre-ordination papers in 2000, along with Canon Norman Ruddock and the Revd Robert Kingston.

The Revd Dr Ron Elsdon, who was 81 when he died on 25 July, was ordained a year before me, and together we shared in many mission projects. I first met him when he was a lecturer in geology and UCD, and we joked at times about the tectonic shift from geology to theology.

The Revd Mark Wilson, who died on 29 August, was originally Castlecomer, Co Kilkenny. Mark’s ministry brought him to parishes in Ireland, the UK, and the Algarve in Portugal, he was an army chaplain in Northern Ireland and Germany, and for 12 years he was the chaplain of Tallaght University Hospital, Dublin.

Canon Robert Deane, who died on 21 September, was the same age as me. We were canons of Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin, at the same time, and when he was the Rector of Swords, with Donabate and Kilsallaghan (2000-2018), he invited me to preach in his churches, to do occasional Sunday duty, and to conduct a baptism in Saint Patrick’s Church, Donabate. He also made the church in Donabate available one year for the Ash Wednesday retreat for CITI staff and students, and I remember his kindness when he was the acting chaplain in Tallaght Hospital.

Canon Ian Coulter, who died on 22 November, was the Canon Treasurer of Saint Canice’s Cathedral, Kilkenny and priest-in-charge of Templemore. We regularly bumped into each other in Kilkenny, where he was active in many civic, charitable and local organisations in Kilkenny, including Kilkenny Archaeological Society, the Rotary Club, Kilkenny Arts Festival, Saint Canice’s Credit Union, the Good Shepherd Centre and the Butler Gallery.

Father Dermod McCarthy, who died at 83, was once the editor of religious programmes at RTÉ. He was part of the team that produced the ground-breaking Radharc programmes for RTÉ from 1965, including documentaries on the famine in Nigeria and the last interview with Oscar Romero before he was martyred in 1980. Dermod was the administrator of the Pro-Cathedral, Dublin, from 1982 to 1991, and the editor of religious programmes until 2007.

Canon Michael Woods died on 17 December, a week before Christmas and only days after he had visited us in Stony Stratford. At different times he had been deputy principal and warden of the House of the Epiphany, the Anglican theological college in Kuching.

Other people I had known in Church life and who died this year include John Martin of CMS, from Australia – we travelled together on a number of church ventures, including China and Egypt; Brother Kevin Crowley of the Capuchins at Church Street; and Sister Stanislaus Kennedy (Sister Stan).

Recording Hiroshima Day reflections for Christian CND and the Anglican Pacifist Fellowship at the Japanese Peace Pagoda at Willen Lake

The writer and historian Dr Brid McGrath was also a long-time supporter of the Irish Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament. Another long-time supporter of CND, John Goodwillie, died last December, although I only heard of his death well into this year.

Dr Martin Mansergh, who died aged 78, was known to many for his political role alongside Charlie Haughey and Bertie Aherne. But now that both he and Haughey are dead, I can tell how we once met quietly in Lincoln’s Inn at the back of TCD and Government Buildings, where he persuaded me to draft a speech for Haughey on nuclear disarmament. He was an academic historian, and at one reception in the Taoiseach’s office during Aherne’s tenure, we ended up having a lengthy discussion on how his ancestor Bryan Mansergh had acquired Ballybur Castle from my ancestor John Comerford in the 1650s and how the Mansergh family had usurped the Comerford family.

Martin was quietly supportive of the CND, the Anti-Apartheid Movement and other campaigns and during the 1798 bicentenary encouraged my research on the role of clergy and members of the Church of Ireland.

Another quiet supporter of CND was Henry Mountcharles, who died on 18 June at 74. Although he never paid his subscription or had a fundraiser at Slane Castle, he donated to the Festival of Life long before he ever succeeded as the 8th Marquess Conyngham.

Peter Watkins, the filmmaker best-known for The War Game also died this year. I once borrowed The War Game from the Revd George Ferguson and the peace film library of the Glencree Centre in Belgrave Square, Rathmines, for Irish CND and was surprised to find the small theatre in Liberty Hall was filled beyond capacity, with many people disappointed at not being able to get in.

This year marked the 80th anniversary of the atomic bombing of Hiroshima and I was invited to record Hiroshima Day addresses for Christian CND and Anglican Pacifist Fellowship and for the Peace and Neutrality Alliance in Ireland. Later, on the evening of 6 August, Charlotte and I attended the annual commemorations at the Japanese Peace Pagoda by Willen Lake.

Throughout the year, I had visits to Milton Keynes University Hospital, the John Radcliffe Hospital and the Churchill Hospital, Oxford, University College Hospital London, and clinics in both Milton Keynes and Oxford, as doctors continue to monitor my progress following a stroke almost four years ago and as I continue to have concerns about my sarcoidosis and B12 levels.

A health scare caused me to cancel a planned visit to Dublin in June, but I was back in Dublin in August and December for family visits and a pre-Christmas book launch, staying in Rathmines and Harcourt Street.

The pilgrim arrives at Lichfield Cathedral in afternoon summer sunshine

I stayed at home in Stony Stratford while Charlotte visited Kuching and Singapore this year, but I did return to Crete, spending Holy Week and Easter in Rethymnon. There was time to meet old friends in Rethymnon, Platanias, Tsesmes, Iraklion and Panormos, and walks on the beaches and around the harbours. But this was also a time for pilgrimage and for spiritual retreat.

I also need my regular retreats and spiritual refreshment in the Chapel of Saint John’s Hospital, Lichfield, and in Lichfield Cathedral, including the mid-day Eucharist and Choral Evensong. There were four return visits to Lichfield, and three each to Tamworth and Comberford during the year.

These included speaking in the Comberford Chapel in Saint Editha’s Church on the tercentenary of the Comberford family memorial plaque erected by Joseph Comerford in 1725, being a guest at the opening of the new facilities for Lichfield Discovered in the Old Grammar School on John Street, Lichfield, and work on Samuel Johnson that still has to bear fruit.

I was at the patronal festival celebrations in Saint John’s, had lunch in the Hedgehog, walked along Cross in Hand Lane, in Beacon Park and by Stowe Pool and climbed Borrowcop Hill in Lichfield, walked by the Tame in Tamworth and through the fields and by the river in Comberford, and visited both Comberford Hall and the Moat House, the former Comberford family home on Lichfield Street in Tamworth.

A visit to Comberford Hall in April sunshine

My continuing research on the work of the Stony Stratford architect Edward Swinfen Harris has brought me to Addington, Buckingham, Maids Moreton, Newport Pagnell, Road and Wolverton and back to Stony Stratford, and brought invitations to speak at events organised by the Milton Keynes Forum for Heritage Week, the Friends of Stony Stratford Library, the Wolverton and District Archaeological Society and the architecture group of the University of the Third Age in Buckingham.

There have been four or five visits to Oxford, including one overnight visit. But apart from hospital appointments, these have included opportunities to browse in the bookshops, visit college chapels, to walk by the river and to attend Choral Evensong in Pusey House. Regrettably, I never got to attend the ‘Receiving Nicaea’ conference in Pusey House last month. Nor did I get to Cambridge this year, and another conference I missed this year was ‘Rebooting Ecumenism: New Paradigms for the 21st Century’, organised by the Institute for Orthodox Christian Studies in Cambridge earlier this month.

We stayed over in York twice during family visits in January and September, which also included visits to Durham Cathedral and Durham Cathedral for the first time and family meals in Harrogate and York, and Sunday mornings in Saint Olave’s Church, York.

My visits to London included Choral Evensong in Southwark Cathedral marking the retirement of Paul Timms, coffee with family members and friends in Friends’ House, visits to churches in Bloomsbury, Clarence Gate, Fitzrovia, Marylebone, Mayfair and Soho and close to Euston Station. On one visit to London in February, I tripped and fell on Oxford Street, badly injuring many part of my face and I ended up in A&E in UCL Hospital in London.

There has been afternoon tea at Saint Guthlac’s Church in Passenham, another guided tour of Bradwell Abbey, pleasant afternoon and evening visits toand meals in Ye Olde Swan in Woughton on the Green, the Swan Inn in Milton Keynes village, the Black Horse, Great Linford, the Cock Hotel in Stony Stratford, and the Cosy Club in Milton Keynes.

My ‘escapades’ and short visits during the year included exploring churches, architecture, local history and sometimes the local countryside in Addington, Aylesbury, Bedford, Bicester, Bradwell, Buckingham, Castlethorpe, Colchester, Durham, Deanshanger, Frating, Friern Barnet, Gawcott, Gerards Cross, Hanslope, Leighton Buzzard, Knaresborough, Leighton Buzzard, Linslade, Luton, Maids Moreton, Middleton, Newport Pagnell, Olney, Padbury, Seer Green, Shire Oak, Stantonbury, Thame, Towcester, Watford, Wavendon, Wolverton, Winslow and Watford. And there have been visits to synagogues and synagogue sites in London, Luton, Watford, Durham Colchester and Rethymnon, and to mosques in Luton.

There have been walks by the Thames in London, the Wear in Durham, the Ouse in York, and the Great Ouse in Stony Stratford and Buckingham, by the Grand Union Canal at Campbell Wharf, and in Cosgrove, Great Linford, Leighton Buzzard, Wolverton and Woughton in the Green and by Willen Lake.

I have enjoyed Cricket on long sunny Saturday afternoons throughout the summer, spent some afternoons watching Irish and English rugby in the Old George, and I have been entertained and delighted by Aston Villa’s record-breaking performance in the Premiership that came to end last night with a stunning defeat by Arsenal. I have enjoyed street art in London, Oxford, Wolverton and Dublin, Greek coffee mornings and festivals in Stony Stratford, meals out in Milton Keynes, Harrogate, Stony Stratford, York, Dublin, Lichfield, Great Linford, Tamworth and Cosgrove, and explored bookshops in Oxford, London and Dublin, and had my first visits that I can recall to both Hatchard’s and Dillons bookshops in London.

With Professor Salvador Ryan (editor, second from left) and some of the other contributors at the launch of ‘Childhood and the Irish, A miscellany’ in the Royal Irish Academy, Dublin, on 1 December 2025

My publications this year included two chapters in Salvador Ryan’s latest book, Childhood and the Irish, A miscellany (Dublin: Wordwell), launched in the Royal Irish Academy, Dublin, at the beginning of this month; a brief introduction to ‘Diversity in Sarawak’ in Pray with the World Church: Prayers And Reflections from The Anglican Communion, 1 June 2025 – 29 November 2025 (London: USPG); a paper on ‘The Ikerrin Crown’, in Under Crimblin Hill, Historical journal of Dunkerrin Parish History Society (Vol V, 2026); a book review in the Irish Theological Quarterly (Maynooth, Volume 90 Issue 2, April 2025); and photographs in the Co Clare Visitor Guide and the County Kerry Visitor Guide (ed Sally Davies), and in Herald Malaysia. I have also been cited in a new Spanish book on the Duke of Wharton, who had Comerford family connections and links with Rathfarnham Castle.

I continue to blog twice a day, and this blog has had about 11.5 million hits this year alone, over half the total of 21 million hits since I began blogging over 15 years ago in August 2010.

During the year, I have celebrated the 25th anniversary of my ordination to the diaconate, and in the year to come I shall celebrate the 25th anniversary of my ordination to the priesthood. It is almost four years since I retired, and I continue to find support from colleagues at local clergy meetings, which took place this year in Wavendon, Furzton, Water Eaton, Shenley Church End and Wolverton.

Summer sunshine in Beacon Park during a visit to Lichfield

Although I missed this year’s USPG conference in Swanwick, Derbyshire, I continue to support the work of USPG, writing for the Prayer Diary, taking part in this year’s celebrations of Founder’s Day or Bray Day in Saint James’s Church, Piccadilly, and drawing on USPG prayers for own prayer diary on this blog each morning.

I continue to sing with the choir in Saint Mary and Saint Giles Church, Stony Stratford, where I am involved in leading intercessions and readings. Charlotte and I were invited guests at the visit of Archbishop Nikitas to the Greek Orthodox Church in Stony Stratford, I spent Kol Nidre, the evening of Yom Kippur, in my local synagogue in Milton Keynes, and we attended the Holocaust Memorial Day commemoration in Christ the Cornerstone Church in Milton Keynes.

Locally, I am a member of the Town Centre Working Group of Stony Stratford Town Council, I am a trustee of the Retreat, a local almshouse and charity, I am part of the Stony Playreaders, currently rehearsing for production in the Stony Words Festival next month, and I was asked toplay Santa in Stony Stratford at the Christmas Fair and Farmers Market in the Market Square.

With Archbishop Nikitas at Matins and the Divine Liturgy during his visit to the Greek Orthodox Church in Stony Stratford

This past year must not become Trump’s year, with his violence, vulgarity and vitriol, stoking up racism and hatred, shattering the lives and hopes of families, the marginalised and the most vulnerable, denying any wrong-doing yet suppressing the Epstein files and shifting the blame to the BBC and to journalists in other mainstream media who asking plain and direct questions. Nor must we allow his capricious and authoritarian rule to dim our hopes for the future.

Instead, for me, the Person of the Year is Bishop Mariann Edgar Budde, who spoke truth to power at the inaugural prayer service in Washington National Cathedral in January.

She spoke directly to Trump with a plea for mercy toward LGBTQ people and immigrant families, and then suffered a torrent of attacks and even calls for her deportation for defending. Her response was clear, sI am not going to apologize for asking for mercy for others.’

She called on him ‘to have mercy upon the people in our country who are scared now … some who fear for their lives.’

The backlash was swift and severe, but many theologians welcomed her sermon as a clear depiction of moral leadership and moral clarity, her book How We Learn to Be Brave: Decisive Moments in Life and Faith, has become a New York Times bestseller, and she was invited to deliver a Christmas meditation on BBC Radio 4.

Preaching at the funeral of Dr Jane Goodall in Washington National Cathedral, Bishop Budde said: ‘In the place where I am now, I want to make sure that you understand that each of you has a role to play. Even where the planet is dark, there is still hope. Get up. Go ahead. Do something. Move to preserve our beautiful planet for all living beings.’

‘We can do this,’ she has said throughout the year, ‘especially if we remember we are never alone. Together, God will work through us to bring about the kind of society, the kind of community we all deserve and that we want to pass on to those who come after us. Take good care, have courage, and remember that together, we can all be brave.’

I am enveloped in Love, upheld by Faith, encouraged by Hope. The sun will rise tomorrow.

Happy New Year.

The sun sets on another year … looking across Stowe Pool to Lichfield Cathedral after sunset (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)

29 December 2025

Daily prayer in Christmas 2025-2026:
5, Monday 29 December 2025,
The Holy Innocents

The Killing of the Holy Innocents, by Giotto (ca 1304-1306), in the Scrovegni Chapel in Padua

Patrick Comerford

On the fifth day of Christmas my true love sent to me … ‘five golden rings, four colly birds, three French hens, two turtle doves, and a partridge in a pear tree’.

This is the fifth day of Christmas and the calendar of the Church of England today remembers the Holy Innocents. The Festival of The Holy Innocents is usually observed on 28 December, and was observed in Saint Mary and Saint Giles Church, Stony Stratford, yesterday. But many churches and parishes marked yesterday as the first Sunday of Christmas, and for them the observance has been moved to today (Monday 29 December 2025).

If the Holy Innocents were commemorated yesterday, then the Church of England remembers Thomas Becket (1170), Archbishop of Canterbury and Martyr, today. The calendar of Eastern Orthodox Church also remembers the Holy Innocents on 29 December.

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.

A detail from The Killing of the Holy Innocents, by Giotto (ca 1304-1306), in the Scrovegni Chapel in Padua (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Matthew 2: 13-18 (NRSVA):

13 Now after they had left, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, ‘Get up, take the child and his mother, and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you; for Herod is about to search for the child, to destroy him.’ 14 Then Joseph got up, took the child and his mother by night, and went to Egypt, 15 and remained there until the death of Herod. This was to fulfil what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet, ‘Out of Egypt I have called my son.’

16 When Herod saw that he had been tricked by the wise men, he was infuriated, and he sent and killed all the children in and around Bethlehem who were two years old or under, according to the time that he had learned from the wise men. 17 Then was fulfilled what had been spoken through the prophet Jeremiah:

18 ‘A voice was heard in Ramah,
wailing and loud lamentation,
Rachel weeping for her children;
she refused to be consoled, because they are no more.’

A detail from the Killing of the Holy Innocents, by Giotto (ca 1304-1306), in the Scrovegni Chapel in Padua (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Today’s Reflections:

The Christian interpretation of the song ‘The 12 Days of Christmas’ often sees the five gold or golden rings as figurative representations of the first five books of the Bible (Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy), the Pentateuch or the Torah.

It is theologically important to remind ourselves in the days after Christmas Day of the important link between the Incarnation and bearing witness to the Resurrection faith.

Saint Stephen’s Day on Friday (26 December), Holy Innocents’ Day (usually 28 December), and the commemoration of Thomas à Beckett (usually today, 29 December), are reminders that Christmas, far from being surrounded by sanitised images of the crib, angels and wise men, is followed by martyrdom and violence. When the Church Calendar recalls the massacre of the Holy Innocents, they are sometimes revered as the first Christian martyrs.

These dates have nothing to do with the chronological order of the event. Instead, the Holy Innocents are remembered within the octave of Christmas because they gave their life for the new-born Saviour. Saint Stephen the first martyr (martyr by will, love and blood, 26 December), Saint John the Evangelist (27 December, martyr by will and love), and these first flowers of the Church (martyrs by blood alone) accompany the Christ Child entering this world on Christmas Day.

This commemoration first appears as a feast of the western church at the end of the fifth century, and the earliest commemorations were connected with the Feast of the Epiphany (6 January), bringing together the murder of the Innocents and the visit of the Magi.

The story of the massacre of the Innocents is the biblical narrative of infanticide by King Herod the Great in today’s Gospel reading (Matthew 2: 13-18). According to Saint Matthew’s Gospel, Herod ordered the execution of all young male children in the village of Bethlehem to save him from losing his throne to a new-born king whose birth had been announced to him by the Magi.

In Saint Matthew’s Gospel, the visiting magi from the east arrive in Judea in search of the new-born king of the Jews, having ‘observed his star at its rising’ (Matthew 2: 2). Herod directs them to Bethlehem, and asks them to let him know who this king is when they find him. They find the Christ Child and honour him, but an angel tells them not to alert Herod, and they return home by another way. Meanwhile, Joseph has taken Mary and the Christ Child and they have fled to Egypt.

Saint Matthew’s Gospel provides the only account of the Massacre. This incident is not mentioned in the other three gospels, nor is it mentioned by the Jewish historian Josephus, who records Herod’s murder of his own sons. When the Emperor Augustus heard that Herod had ordered the murder of his own sons, he remarked: ‘It is better to be Herod’s pig, than his son.’

Saint Matthew’s story recalls passages in Hosea referring to the exodus, and in Jeremiah referring to the Babylonian exile, and the accounts in Exodus of the birth of Moses and the slaying of the first-born children by Pharaoh.

Estimates of the number of infants at the time in Bethlehem, a town with a total population of about 1,000, would be about 20. But Byzantine liturgy estimated 14,000 Holy Innocents were murdered, while an early Syrian list of saints put the number at 64,000. Coptic sources raise the number to 144,000 and also place the event on 29 December.

In previous years, Christian CND and the Anglican Pacifist Fellowship have come together to mark Holy Innocents’ Day and to pray for peace with prayers, readings, singing and reflections on all the innocent victims of war and violence, especially children. This morning, as I reflect on the day ahead, my heart is weighed down by the plight of the children who have been caught in war and violence in Gaza, Isreal and Palestine, in Syria and Lebanon, and in Ukraine and Russia, the forgotten child refugees on Greek islands, in Lampedusa and in Calais, in cheap hotels across this land and across Europe, and the child refugees and innocent children who have become the victims of the appalling decisions about to be made by the Trump regime in the past year.

It was distressing, to say the least, to read a report by my former colleague Helena Smith from Athens in the Guardian last Christmas of a refugee ‘children’s emergency’ facing Greece, where the number of unaccompanied minors reaching the country rising and concerns growing over a lack of ‘safe zones’ to host them.

Large numbers of children arrived last year (2025) along a new trafficking route from Libya to Crete, prompting NGOs to urge Greek authorities to take emergency measures that would allow children to be transferred to protected shelters or other EU member states.

‘What we are seeing amounts to a children’s emergency of the kind that we haven’t witnessed in years,’ said Sofia Kouvelaki, who heads the Home Project, an organisation that supports refugee and migrant children in Athens.

Ten years after Greece was at the centre of a refugee crisis, when nearly a million EU-bound asylum seekers crossed its borders, child arrivals had doubled last year, according to the UN refugee agency, UNHCR. More than 13,000 minors arrived in Greece by sea in the first 11 months of thats year. Landings by unaccompanied and separated children have also risen sharply, from 1,490 in 2023 to approximately 3,000 so far this year.

‘There are a huge number of kids turning up on boats every day and an urgent need for the creation of more safe spaces to house them,’ Sofia Kouvelaki said. Recent arrivals referred to the Home Project included exceptionally young children from Syria and Egypt.

Greece’s migration minister, Nikos Panagiotopoulos, predicted last Christmas that pressure on east Mediterranean migration routes to Greece was likely to continue this year (2025). By the end of last year, 60,000 people had entered Greece, and camps on the Aegean islands were at full capacity, he said.

Aid groups report hundreds of children on the frontline isles of Samos, Leros and Kos without clothes or shoes and little or no access to essential services. Spending cuts by the Greek government resulted in fewer protective shelters and about 1,500 unaccompanied children were forced to fend for themselves throughout Greece. Incidents of violence and abuse proliferated in overcrowded state-run reception facilities that frequently host children and adults together. There were shocking reports of a teenager from Egypt being gang-raped, beaten and burned at the Malakasa refugee camp outside Athens.

Save the Children and other aid organisations report critical failures in Greece’s reception system, overcrowding in camps and asylum seeker facilities, shortages in basic services, placing children at risk as their asylum requests are put on EU funding is blocked from reaching shelters.

The Greek Council for Refugees and Save the Children reported alarming living conditions that minors continue to face in the camps. ‘It is unacceptable that, even now, when so much money has been invested in Greece and we are no longer in crisis mode, that we should be discussing such basic issues,’ according to Lefteris Papagiannakis, the director of the Greek Council for Refugees.

The situation has continued to deteriorate in the past 12 months. Last month (November 2025), the International Commission of Jurists (ICJ) and the European Council for Refugees and Exiles (ECRE) submitted comments to the European Committee of Social Rights (ECSR) on the follow-up to the collective complaint ICJ and ECRE v Greece. Their submission details several aspects of Greece’s continuing non-compliance with the European Social Charter (ESC) concerning the rights of migrant and refugee children.

Their concerns include continued resort to detention or detention-like restrictions of migrant and refugee children as a substitute for reception; prolonged confinement in what should be ‘safe zones’ with unrelated adults; persistent substandard reception conditions on the islands; the continued lack of appropriate shelter for unaccompanied children on the mainland; recurrent barriers to healthcare and schooling; a deficient current age-assessment framework; concerns about medical tests, lengthy appeal deadlines; and violations of children’s rights.

Malcolm Guite is a Cambridge poet and priest. At the request of King Charles, one of his poems was read by Dame Kristin Scott Thomas on the Sunday before Christmas (21 December) at the Chapel Royal Carol Service:

We think of him as safe beneath the steeple,
Or cosy in a crib beside the font,
But he is with a million displaced people
On the long road of weariness and want.
For even as we sing our final carol
His family is up and on that road,
Fleeing the wrath of someone else’s quarrel,
Glancing behind and shouldering their load.
Whilst Herod rages still from his dark tower
Christ clings to Mary, fingers tightly curled,
The lambs are slaughtered by the men of power,
And death squads spread their curse across the world.
But every Herod dies, and comes alone
To stand before the Lamb upon the throne.

‘Joseph got up, took the child and his mother by night, and went to Egypt’ (Matthew 2: 14) … a window in Saint Peter’s Church, Kuching (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Today’s Prayers (Monday 29 December 2025, the Holy Innocents):

The theme this week (28 December 2025 to 3 January 2026) in Pray with the World Church, the prayer diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), is ‘Mother and Child’ (pp 14-15). This theme was introduced yesterday with a Programme Update by Imran Englefield, Individual Giving Manager, USPG.

The USPG Prayer Diary today (Monday 29 December 2025) invites us to pray:

God of compassion, we continue to ask that you bless the faith and dedication of those working at Mvumi.

The Collect:

Heavenly Father,
whose children suffered at the hands of Herod,
though they had done no wrong:
by the suffering of your Son
and by the innocence of our lives
frustrate all evil designs
and establish your reign of justice and peace;
through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord,
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.

The Post-Communion Prayer:

Lord Jesus Christ,
in your humility you have stooped to share our human life
with the most defenceless of your children:
may we who have received these gifts of your passion
rejoice in celebrating the witness of the Holy Innocents
to the purity of your sacrifice
made once for all upon the cross;
for you are alive and reign, now and for ever.

Yesterday’s Reflections

Continued Tomorrow

‘Rest on the Flight into Egypt’ (1879) by Luc-Olivier Merson (1846-1920) … a reminder of the stark reality of the hardship and deprivation suffered by a family on the run (Museum of Fine Arts Boston)

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