The Psalms and the pursuit of Truth

It often occurs to me that the most objective part of the Old Testament we can connect with is the Psalms. Throughout history, comment on society, government and politics etc has been most likely to be deemed acceptable through the Arts. Want to complain publicly about the government? Particularly in an authoritarian country? Go under the radar. Sleight of hand- write a pop song, a poem, slightly tongue in cheek and oblique…. The band “Pussycat Dolls” are a good example of this in Russia. To my mind, the Psalms are in this way perhaps the most objective comment we can access on the way ancient people connected with God. 

Photo by Sincerely Media on Unsplash

It has always been a matter of great concern for me that the God of the Old Testament would seem to be entirely different from the God of the New. Paternalistic, authoritarian and controlling, condemning and expecting. Not as comforting as that of the- perhaps more maternal, loving God we read of in the New Testament. And yet Jesus absolutely fulfilled the prophecies from the Old Testament, the New Testament only stands on the shoulders of the ancient books of the Bible- and exists to fulfil them. 

Wild, Bright Hope

Having completed the "Wild Bright Hope" Lent course I feel I have been on a journey. Clichéd perhaps, but the past six weeks have been so much more than disparate group discussions. The course has become a wonderful drawing together of so many thoughts and ideas: some new, some many years old, caught rattling around in my head waiting for an outlet. It's odd really, because it's "just" a book - and not even one I initially felt particularly inspired to read. As any parent navigating complex illness will tell you - or any family carer struggling to source additional answers or support, it's often "the hope that gets you", precipitating another descent into despair, and I've written about it many times before: - 

"Each time someone offers you a bit of hope your heart leaps. The adrenalin kicks in and you start to take your eye off the ball. That "ball" is coping, it's the hamster wheel of life where you know your niche and get on with it, where you understand your limitations and work within them. At whatever level, we all do this. But hope makes you look beyond, at what might be, the what-ifs, the maybes. It's dangerous territory."

In our modern society "hope" can become fear-inducing because it prompts us to embark on a journey where we dare to hope for change. Change we yearn for, change we desperately need. And what if that change fails to materialise? Unfulfilled hope can feel acutely painful. 

What this book has taught me is that hope doesn't necessarily mean focussing on desired, or even defined change. Instead, hope creates the space for change, it facilitates new perspectives which enable us to grow. To grow in our thinking, our behaviour and our interactions with others. Fear is thus a barrier to hope, preventing those new perspectives which create this space for change. Hope is therefore not a definitive movement towards desired change, it is an openness to new perspectives. And the catalyst required is human connection. Liberating stuff. 

Why the Church of England is Failing Women

The place and position of women within the Church of England, both within the clerical hierarchy and their accepted status within the wider congregation has been a controversial subject since the Reformation. Indeed, the Reformation in England was essentially institutional change to accommodate the needs of a man; women were incidental to its form and function, and it was never intended to accommodate women. The role of women in this patriarchal religious world has been to gauge orthodoxy, whilst defining their proper roles has been the focus of numerous church councils, theologians, and religious authorities. (Ruth Adam : "Reclaiming the power of women in the early church.") The early church focussed on the biological functions of women - capitalising on pre-existing pagan fertility worship which celebrated the fertility of the land and people, and the union of the divine masculine and feminine. Mary as the Mother of God was central to Catholic worship and women's subservient roles as procreators and carers were reinforced, a model acceptable to traditional pagan societies. Yet there is plenty of evidence women played a key evangelical role in the early church, albeit informally. (Smith : Women & their Roles in Early Christianity")

Photo by Mikail Duran on Unsplash

Small wonder that association of power and maleness led many women who aspired to play an unorthodox role to jettison their femininity, believing the patriarchally enforced myth that femaleness personified weakness. So powerful has this association been over the passage of time that this process is still played out in the West today with a powerful element of gender in eating disorders, and anorexia in particular. Certainly for female sufferers, arresting female development is exerting control over one's body and for many teenagers, whilst this might have little to do with their personal views on their femininity it feels the only part of their lives they have any control over. By losing weight, a girl loses her femininity. She androgenises herself. It is a deep and fundamental rejection of what is female and feminine, embracing the asexual and often masculine, whether intentional or not. Female hormones are no longer produced as body fat is depleted and curves vanish. Menstruation stops and the figure remains or returns to looking boyish. There is considerable evidence of women deliberating doing this in history. Female "anchorites" in the Middle Ages and Early Modern Period used self starvation as a means of gaining a foothold in a male-dominated world, their views and opinions were given a level of credence otherwise denied to women at the time. 

Why Christianity must not lose its faith in the past.

I admit I struggled conceiving of a suitable title for this article. A faith which began over two millennia ago is likely going to be firmly rooted in the (very ancient) past, and having thus far stood the test of time surely it's pretty future proof? Yet in recent years the Church of England has demonstrated an alarming trend towards denial of the fundamental founding principles of our faith, with a kind of apologetic embarrassment leaving us with a "Christianity-lite" offer. Whilst wonderfully convenient and less controversial, this is becoming further and further removed from where we ought to be. A collection of books compiled over a period of five thousand years by a people in transition as the foundation of faith would not seem to offer an obvious modern handbook for the future. Except ironically it can and it should. 

What is holding Christianity back- and specifically the Church of England, is its insistence that creating a modern veneer for today’s worshippers can offer a new, relevant representation of the faith fit for today. I personally feel this is selling out; an enduring ethos and way of life should not need a shiny new wrapper to ensure its survival. It’s not how Jesus operated and it misses the fundamental point of our faith; that superficial acceptance of the world we live in is not the way forward. Standing up against the tide, however difficult, is the only option when following Jesus. 

Christ Driving the Money Changers from the Temple

Benvenuto Tisi da Garofalo (c.1481–1559)

I might not be a Biblical scholar, but I'm pretty certain Jesus was a revolutionary- from overturning the moneylender’s tables in the Temple to riding a donkey through the side gate into Jerusalem in contrast to the Roman Governor arriving in pomp through the main entrance to the city. These are not the acts of someone hoping to go along with the status quo to achieve acceptance, they are confrontational acts designed to precipitate strong feelings. Jesus did not choose the easy path, he chose what he believed to be the correct one- and yet today convenience and acceptance triumphs daily in the CofE. The mental gymnastics required to avoid "offending" any person or group whilst simultaneously remaining relevant is astonishing. Ironically this is precisely what Jesus objected to; it is fundamentally UNChristian to avoid challenging something immoral, unethical or which causes persecution. Worse still, they have confused seeking justice and speaking out with persecution, in collusion with a "woke" agenda seeking to subvert society.

Christmas Carols

The word Carol means dance or a song of praise and joy. Carols used to be written and sung during all four seasons, but only the tradition of singing them at Christmas has really survived. Carols were first sung in Europe thousands of years ago, but these were pagan songs, sung at the Winter Solstice celebrations as people danced round stone circles. 

In 1223 St. Francis of Assisi initiated nativity plays in Italy, with people in the plays singing songs or 'canticles' that told the story. Sometimes, the choruses of these new carols were in Latin; but normally they were all in a language that the people watching the play could understand and join in. The new carols spread to France, Spain, Germany and other European countries. 

Photo by Dan Kiefer on Unsplash

Carols from this time were very loosely based on the Christmas story and were seen as entertaining rather than religious songs. Usually sung in homes rather than in churches, they evolved over time. Traveling singers or Minstrels started singing these carols and the words were changed for the local people wherever they were traveling. "I Saw Three Ships" is an example. 

Carols remained mainly unsung until Victorian times, when two men called William Sandys and Davis Gilbert collected Christmas music from villages in England. Sandy's compiled "Christmas Carols, Ancient and Modern" which is now in the British Library. In the lengthy introduction Sandys relates the history of the festival, bemoans that celebrating Christmas is ‘on the wane’ . He includes 80 carols, some 15th to 17th century, others ‘still used in the west of England’, plus 12 pages of music with 18 tunes. The book saw the first appearance of many now-familiar carols, including 'God rest you merry, Gentlemen'; 'Hark, the herald angels sing'; 'I saw three ships'; and 'The first Noel'. (In 1852 Sandys published a similar carol collection, Christmas-tide, for a more popular market.) 

Waits

Before carol singing in public became popular, there were official carol singers called 'Waits'. These were led by important local leaders who had the only power locally to permit payment for wassailing or carolling. 'Waits' were so called because they only sang on Christmas Eve which was sometimes known as 'watchnight' or 'waitnight', because of the shepherds were watching their sheep when the angels appeared to them.

Each Christmas carol tells a story, here is the history of two of the best known:-

Once in Royal David's City

Cecil Frances Alexander lived 1818-1895 in Dublin, Ireland. She was the author of the iconic "Once in Royal David's City" (and "All things Bright and Beautiful" amongst many others). She was a prolific verse writer, her hymns heavily influenced first by Dr. Walter Hook, Dean of Chichester, and later her connections within the Oxford Movement. 

Whilst many of us are unfamiliar with the controversies surrounding both the Movement and Alexander's endorsement of the class system, her hymns are known and loved by Christians the world over. Alexander also published poetry in english and french, for adults and children.

"Once in Royal" as it's affectionately known is usually sung at the start of Carol Services in the approach to Christmas, and the Nine Lessons and Carols service on Christmas Eve. The first verse is usually sung as a solo, the soloist traditionally only learning they are singing it moments beforehand!

Hark the Herald Angels Sing

Charles Wesley, the founder of Methodist Church wrote a beautiful carol which began:- 

Hark how all the welkin rings 

Glory to the King of Kings 

Peace on earth and mercy mild 

God and sinners reconciled.

Until twenty years later a preacher called George Whitfield published a new version with the now familiar first line "Hark, the herald angels sing Glory to the new-born King!" Wesley was apparently unimpressed, not least (according to a BBC Culture article) because the angels in the Bible spoke their message, rather than sang it. The text is still credited to Wesley, who wrote over 6500 hymns!

The history around the tune is even more interesting. It is by Mendelssohn; a song he wrote to commemorate the Gutenburg press 400 years after its invention. Realising some new lyrics might be needed once the anniversary had passed, Mendelssohn said he did not mind what words were substituted for the original lyrics, as long as they were not religious....  

Here is our choir singing Ben Parry's version of "Adam lay Ybounden":- 

(press the triangular "play" button at the bottom)

Bishop John Coleridge Patteson – a man truly ahead of his time.

This article bears no connection to music, for which I (partially!) apologise!

It was brought to my attention that September 20th 2021 marks the 150th anniversary of the death of John Coleridge Patteson (1 April 1827 – 20 September 1871), an English Anglican bishop, missionary to the South Sea Islands, and an accomplished linguist, learning 23 of the islands' more than 1,000 languages. There is a large memorial to him in our churchyard, near the south entrance. 

Patteson grew up in Feniton, East Devon. He went to school in Ottery St. Mary and later attended Eton College and then Balliol College, Oxford. By September 1854, he had been ordained a priest at Exeter Cathedral and he soon began his missionary work, travelling from Devon to Melanesia (in the South Pacific) as a Christian missionary in 1855. Patteson was consecrated the first Bishop of the Diocese of Melanesia and head of the Melanesian Mission in 1861 and was martyred on the island of Nukapu in 1871. However the church he created in the South Pacific lives on, Christians in Melanesia still revere him as a martyr and the Diocese of Exeter retains close links with the Anglican Province of Melanesia. 

So why, might you ask, does St. Mary le Tower have such an ostentatious memorial to Patteson and what is its relevance a century and a half after his death? 

Attempting a narrative of his life might seem relatively straightforward, establishing the facts about or reasons for Patteson’s death is much more of a challenge, involving a mix of indigenous histories, eye-witness accounts, and subsequent interviews. Writer Charlotte Yonge was Patteson’s cousin. She had provided financial support for her cousin’s missionary work in the Pacific by sharing the profits from two of her romantic novels and she used her skills to write a two-volume biography (1873, 1874) of the martyred bishop which made use of a rich collection of family letters. It is a complex story with relevance to the current debate about Britain’s colonial history. 

At first sight there was little to differentiate Patteson from the multiple colonial evangelists at the time. A talented linguistic with a thirst for adventure, Patteson learnt Latin, Greek, German, Hebrew, and Arabic and travelled in Europe before venturing further afield to New Zealand and the islands of the Pacific. Patteson sailed around the islands preaching to the communities he discovered and setting up schools. But here was the key difference which was to mark him out from the crowd. He held a deep respect for the cultures and customs he encountered and learnt 23 of the local languages (even translating the Gospel of Luke into Mota). His ambition was to educate local boys in Christianity so that they could lead the next generation, to inspire and share – not to indoctrinate and rule. 

Patteson had been living in Auckland but he set up home on Norfolk Island in 1867. His own house served as a school, a mission station, and a chapel. His ultimate goal was to have a native ministry and he campaigned tirelessly to supress the slavery and ‘blackbirding’ (kidnapping people to work as poorly paid labourers) that were commonplace in Melanesia. 

On 20 September 1871, Patteson was aboard the missionary boat, the Southern Cross II. As they approached a Reef Island called Nukapu, Patteson took the decision to transfer to a native canoe and land alone on the island. Here he would receive fatal wounds to the head. It is unclear exactly why Patteson was killed, but it is thought to have been a case of mistaken identity: a revenge killing for the abduction of five young men by blackbirders only days earlier. It is said that local people realised their mistake and treated his body with respect, covering it with palm leaves and sending it out to sea in a small boat. It was found by the crew of the Southern Cross. 

Whilst Patteson did not see his vision realised, his death had a significant impact. On hearing the news back home, the British Government resolved to stamp out slavery in their Pacific territories. The slave-trade was technically illegal in the South Pacific at that time, but the laws were only laxly enforced and in fact slave-raiding was a flourishing business. Patteson was actively engaged in the effort to stamp it out. 

On the Islands themselves, Patteson’s legacy is evident. The church of St Barnabus was erected on Norfolk Island in 1882 in his memory and is still used today; the ‘Bishop Patteson Theological College’ in the Solomon Islands is a thriving institution; and, in 1963 and 1975 respectively, the first Melanesian Bishops and Archbishop were consecrated. A new boat – the Southern Cross IX – now travels around the islands, continuing the Mission’s work. 

Relevance today 

Most people are a product of their time and status, but Patteson was blessed with something quite unique for the time he lived in. He held a deep respect for his fellow human beings and does not seem to have suffered the same delusions of white superiority and viewed the people he met as equals. He valued and respected difference, learning new languages to engage better with others on common ground. 

Today this seems obvious, although far too many fall short of this ideal. One hundred and fifty years ago, in the golden age of the British Empire, this was revolutionary. The entire machinery of Victorian Britain depended on the foundation of national superiority - slavery might have been abolished in officially in 1807, but it was not until the late 1960s that most of our former colonies gained independence. 

Which is why Patteson holds such relevance for Christians today. Differences of skin colour, language, belief, and opinion should never be cause for lack of respect. Our humanity is what matters - in the eyes of God, family, society, and the world. Without respect for each other we cannot hope to share ideas, work together or connect. 

At a time when we are seeking to grow our congregation and renew our Mission here in Ipswich, we should perhaps first look inwards, at ourselves. The way we connect with people is founded on our view of ourselves and our place in the world. If we hope to inspire others and make a difference here, then we must lead by example. Spreading Christianity is about sharing and inspiring, not telling. 

Because Mission and growth can never be sustained without respect and equality.

 

Thomas Attwood Walmisley

Thomas Attwood Walmisley (21 January 1814 – 17 January 1856) was the son of Thomas Forbes Gerrard Walmisley, a well-known organist and composer of church music. Both in a privileged, musical family, both his father and his godfather Thomas Attwood had a significant influence on the young musician's life and career.

Thomas Attwood Walmisley

Thomas Forbes Gerrard Walmisley (Walmisley' father)

Walmisley senior was born in Westminster, London in 1783, the third son of William Walmisley, Clerk of the House of Lords papers. Like his brothers, he was a chorister at Westminster Abbey, and was educated at Westminster School. He studied music with John Spencer and Thomas Attwood (see below) and in 1796 is recorded as having sung in oratorios in Covent Garden. In 1814 he succeeded Robert Cooke as organist of St Martin-in-the-Fields resigning, with a pension, in March 1854. From 1803 he taught piano and singing becoming famous as a teacher; his alumni included Edward John Hopkins. In 1810 Walmisley married the eldest daughter of William Capon, an architectural draftsman. Thomas Attwood Walmisley was his eldest son (of six sons and four daughters who survived infancy), whose Cathedral Music he edited in 1857. 

Thomas Attwood (Walmisley's godfather)

His godfather was the composer and organist Thomas Attwood wo took responsibility for the boy Walmisley's education and music tuition. Born the son of a musician in the royal band, at the age of nine Attwood became a chorister in the Chapel Royal, where he received training in music from James Nares and Edmund Ayrton. In 1783 he was sent to study abroad at the expense of the Prince of Wales (afterwards King George IV), who had been impressed by his skill at the harpsichord. After two years in Naples, Attwood proceeded to Vienna, where he became a favourite pupil of Mozart. On his return to London in 1787 he held for a short time an appointment as one of the chamber musicians to the Prince of Wales. 

With the support of these two musicians Thomas Attwood Walmisley excellent academically and musically. He was organist of Croydon Parish Church in 1830 before becoming organist at Trinity College, Cambridge in 1833 at the age of 19, where he became well known for his composition. (He was simultaneously organist for the Choir of St John's College, Cambridge.) Graduating in music, he went on to obtain his Doctorate. In 1836 Walmisley was made Professor of Music at Cambridge. His bond with his father sustained throughout his life, his father editing his cathedral music edited after his death. Walmisley died in 1856, and is buried in the churchyard of St Andrew's Church, Fairlight, East Sussex.

John E West has suggested his premature death was 'hastened by an unwise indulgence in lethal remedies'. Stanford commented that 'Walmisley … was a victim of four o’clock dinners in Hall, and long symposiums in the Combination Room after; and being a somewhat lonely bachelor, the excellent port of the College cellars was, at times, more his master than his servant'. As a composer, Walmisley is chiefly known for his setting of the Evening Canticles in D minor, perhaps the only Magnificat which begins with the bass and tenor lines at full volume - certainly not a typical "Song of Mary"!

Corpus Christi - Celebrating the Institution of the Eucharist

The festival of Corpus Christi celebrates the Eucharist as the body of Christ. The name 'Corpus Christi' is Latin for 'the body of Christ' and the feast is celebrated by Roman Catholics and other Christians to proclaim the truth of the transubstantiation of bread and wine into the actual body of Christ during Mass. In some countries in the world, Catholic churches still celebrate the festival, not only with a Mass, but also with a procession that carries the consecrated wafer through the streets as a public statement that the sacrifice of Christ was for the salvation of the whole world.  

In the Church of England this feast is liturgically celebrated on the Thursday after Trinity Sunday and is known as the Day of Thanksgiving for the Institution of Holy Communion (Corpus Christi), which this year is June 3rd. Christians already mark the Last Supper, when Christ instituted the Eucharist, on Maundy Thursday (the day before Good Friday). Because Maundy Thursday falls during the solemn period of Holy Week, it was thought necessary to have a separate festival of the Eucharist that would allow the celebration not to be muted by sadness. The feast was proposed by Saint Thomas Aquinas who was inspired by the religious experience of St Juliana (1193-1258), a Belgian nun. He asked Pope Urban IV to create a feast focused solely on the Holy Eucharist, emphasising the joy of the Eucharist being the Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity of Jesus Christ. For Catholics, the host contains the real presence of Christ, and it is displayed on a 'monstrance' and treated as Christ in human form would be treated, with reverence, ceremony and adoration. 

Photo by Maria Oswalt on Unsplash

The feast of Corpus Christi was suppressed in Protestant churches in the Reformation for theological reasons as Protestants deny the real presence of Christ in the Eucharist other than as a symbolic or spiritual presence. As the English Reformation progressed the Church of England abolished the feast of Corpus Christi in 1548, but later reintroduced it in Anglicised form. Most Anglican churches now observe Corpus Christi, sometimes under the name "Thanksgiving for the Institution of Holy Communion". 

The liturgy 

Corpus Christi is often marked by a service originally devised by Thomas Aquinas.  It includes five great hymns, including Panis Angelicus (part of a longer hymn called Sacris Solemniis, 'At this our solemn feast') and Pange lingua ('Sing, my tongue') 

Rogation and Love at Ascension - a new commandment

Rogation days are days of prayer and fasting in Western Christianity, observed with processions and the Litany of the Saints. The so-called major rogation is held on 25 April whilst minor rogations are held on Monday to Wednesday preceding Ascension Thursday. 

Rogation in History

Historically Rogation has been merged with pagan rites, The Christian major rogation replaced a pagan Roman procession known as Robigalia, at which a dog was sacrificed to propitiate Robigus, the deity of agricultural disease. A common feature of Rogation days in the middle ages was the ceremony of beating the bounds, in which a procession of parishioners, led by the minister, churchwarden, and choirboys, would proceed around the boundary of their parish and pray for its protection in the forthcoming year. (This was also a feature of the original Roman festival, when revellers would walk to a grove five miles from the city to perform their rites.) But the central theme was protection, and in the Christian faith this is derived from our relationship with God. As in any healthy relationship, love is required in both directions - God loves us conditionally, but requires that we also love one another in the same way.

The word rogation comes from the Latin verb rogare, meaning "to ask", which reflects the beseeching of God for the appeasement of his anger and for protection from calamities. 

Rogation and Love

It is pertinent therefore that the days preceding Ascension Thursday are rogation days, following the Sixth Sunday of Easter when we remember Jesus' commandment that we love one another as selflessly as he loved us. 

May Day Celebrations

This week sees the start of the month of May, traditionally a time of looking forward – a celebration of the summer to come. This year as the UK emerges from months of lockdown after year of restrictions, the hope is palpable as we anticipate a summer of increased freedom and optimism. 

The spring bank holiday on the first Monday in May was created in 1978, May Day itself is 1st May and is not a public holiday in England (unless it falls on a Monday). In February 2011, the UK Parliament was reported to be considering scrapping the bank holiday associated with May Day, replacing it with a bank holiday in October, possibly coinciding with Trafalgar Day (celebrated on October 21), to create a "United Kingdom Day". 

The earliest known May celebrations appeared in Floralia, festival of Flora, the Roman Goddess of flower – held from 27th April to 3rd May during the Roman Republic Era. A later May festival celebrated in Germanic countries, “Walpurgis Night”, commemorates the official canonization of Saint Walpurga on 1 May 870. In Gaelic culture, the evening of April 30th was the celebration of Beltane (which translates to "lucky fire"), the start of the summer season. 

Since the 18th century, many Roman Catholics have observed May – and May Day – with various May devotions to the Blessed Virgin Mary. 1 May is also one of two feast days of the Catholic patron saint of workers St Joseph the Worker, a carpenter, husband to Mother Mary, and surrogate father of Jesus. Replacing another feast to St. Joseph, this date was chosen by Pope Pius XII in 1955 as a counterpoint to the communist International Workers Day celebrations on May Day. 

In Oxford, it is a centuries-old tradition for May Morning revellers to gather below the Great Tower of Magdalen College at 6 am to listen to the college choir sing traditional madrigals as a conclusion to the previous night's celebrations. Since the 1980s some people then jump off Magdalen Bridge into the River Cherwell. 

The origins of the May morning celebration date from around 1505 when the Great Tower at Magdalen College was completed. The event has taken place each year in its current form since the 17th Century when "Hymnus Eucharisticus" was written by Benjamin Rogers, 17th Century Magdalen Choirmaster, musician and composer with an interesting biography! The event starts early at 6 a.m. with bells ringing, followed by the Choir singing the Hymnus Eucharisticus from the top of Magdalen Tower. The last section of the climb to the top of the tower is reportedly only a ladder, and not for the faint-hearted! For this reason choristers only wear short surplices over uniform rather than cassocks... 

The choir traditionally also sings a madrigal, "Now Is the Month of Maying" following prayers for the city led by the Dean of Divinity. Large crowds of both students and Oxford residents normally gather under the tower, along the High Street, and on Magdalen Bridge. Students and fellows of Magdalen College gather in the college cloisters and on top of the other towers within the college grounds. Morris dancing and folk singing has also featured in Radcliffe Square as the choir "sing in" the Spring in this unique Oxford tradition.

Worship and the role of church buildings - a lockdown perspective.

Worshipping during lockdown with churches either closed or partially open with significant restrictions places both a burden and an opportunity on congregations. Separated from our usual routines, places of worship and normal practise it's easy to feel cast adrift, uncertain and isolated. But perhaps it's a time to reconnect with our faith, with what is important and essential? Christians have long gathered together in specific buildings which are holy places. But as with any other earthly object can a building become more than place of worship for uniting and gathering, can it become a prop and substitute for real faith?

St Mary le Tower church in Ipswich

Church buildings are invaluable historical resources, some standing as the best examples of our architectural achievements. The rich and varied contribution that churches make to society, from offering counselling and training for vulnerable social groups, to providing opportunities for volunteer work and employment means ensuring their survival is of real importance. Churches as places of worship offer somewhere calm away from our busy lives, where we can focus and worship. 

If we have learned one thing during the pandemic though, it is that although extremely valuable for many excellent reasons, the church building is not the only place we can worship. Neither is being inside one essential for worship to occur. Jesus' cleansing of the Temple illustrates the importance of following his teachings and the central message of the Ten Commandments, without which visiting a church or place of worship has little relevance in a Christian life. It's a reminder that "going through the motions" without connecting in our hearts has little value.

Music for Shrovetide - Harold Darke

The central theme around the week before Lent in the RSCM "Sunday by Sunday" guide is that of light; or more precisely Christ as our light, alongside the Transfiguration Gospel which I wrote about here. But the theme of light would ostensibly appear rather odd as we brace ourselves to enter the chasm of light that is Lent! 

Light has been a theme since Christmas Eve when we celebrate the birth of Jesus, the Light of the World. At Candlemas Jesus was presented to Simeon in the Temple, who proclaimed him 

"a light to lighten the Gentiles, and the glory of thy people Israel.” Luke 2:32 (KJV)

The reading of the Transfiguration Gospel (Luke 9:28-36) before Lent would seem the culmination of this theme of light. Three disciples went up the mountain with Jesus, and for a moment had a glimpse of Jesus as God could see him. He was in fact no different, it was their perception that was altered. They simply saw him in a different light- God’s light. Thus the Light of Jesus' divinity shines before Peter, James, John, and us. This glimpse of glory in Christ seen by the disciples on the mount of the Transfiguration was perhaps to sustain them through the darkness of Good Friday, when we wait for the brighter light which is the Church's sole reason for existing: the Light of Jesus' resurrection. In the Bible, light has always been a symbol of holiness, goodness, knowledge, wisdom, grace, hope, and God's revelation, which makes sense as the theme as we embark on the season of Lent. 

There are many options for anthems with such a theme; "O Nata Lux" by Tallis, "Be Thou my Vision" by Chilcott, McDowall's "Aurea Luce" or Howells' "My eyes for beauty pine" but  I've chosen an anthem by Harold Darke. Darke held an enviable reputation as an organist and choral composer during his lifetime, but the popularity of his setting of Rossetti's poem "In the Bleak Midwinter" has perhaps resulted in some of his other works achieving less attention in recent years. 

Christ Whose Glory fills the Skies - Harold Darke

Harold Edwin Darke was an English composer and organist, with a world-wide reputation as one of the finest organists of his era. He is particularly known for his choral compositions, which are an established part of the repertoire of Anglican church music.  Educated at the Royal College of Music, he became organist at St Michael Cornhill in 1916, and stayed there until 1966, briefly deputising for Boris Ord as Director of Music at King's College during World War II. Famous for his 1909 setting of Christina Rossetti's "In the Bleak Midwinter" (Voted the greatest Christmas carol of all time in a poll of choral experts and choirmasters in December 2008) his Communion Service in F is a popular staple in the repertoire of many choirs. "Christ Whose Glory Fills the Skies" is not an anthem I have sung, but was once a standard of parish church repertoire.

Christ, whose glory fills the skies, 

Christ, the true, the only Light, 

Sun of Righteousness, arise, 

Triumph o’er the shades of night; 

Dayspring from on high, be near; 

Day-star, in my heart appear. 

 Dark and cheerless is the morn 

Unaccompanied by Thee; 

Joyless is the day’s return 

Till Thy mercy’s beams I see; 

Till they inward light impart, 

Glad my eyes, and warm my heart. 

Visit then this soul of mine, 

Pierce the gloom of sin and grief; 

Fill me, Radiancy divine, 

Scatter all my unbelief; 

More and more Thyself display, 

Shining to the perfect day.

Shrovetide - Transfiguration and Transformation

"Shrovetide, also known as the Pre-Lenten Season, is the Christian period of preparation before the beginning of the liturgical season of Lent. Shrovetide starts on Septuagesima Sunday, includes Sexagesima Sunday, Quinquagesima Sunday (commonly called Shrove Sunday) and culminates on Shrove Tuesday, also known as Mardi Gras." 

This Sunday is Quinquagesima or Shrove Sunday, which falls roughly fifty days before Easter. In the Western Christian Churches, it is the last Sunday of Shrovetide, the Sunday before Ash Wednesday. It is also called Quinquagesima Sunday, Quinquagesimae, Estomihi, Shrove Sunday, Pork Sunday, or the Sunday next before Lent. (Estomihi is derived from the beginning of the Introit for the Sunday, Esto mihi in Deum protectorem, et in locum refugii, ut salvum me facias, Psalms 31:3.) The name originates from the Latin quinquagesimus, referring to the fifty days before Easter Day using inclusive counting which counts both Sundays. (Although even with the most inclusive counting the ten day weeks are only roughly applicable!) Traditionally, it was the third of the three Sundays (following Septuagesima and Sexagesima) of preparation for Lent. 

Similarly, last Sunday (7th Feb 2021) was the Second Sunday before Lent, also known as Sexagesima & Creation Sunday. Sexagesima means "sixtieth", the date falling approximately 60 days before Easter. The liturgical theme for Sexagesima is the Word of God, sent to renew the face of the earth. Since God continually creates and recreates, our relationship with God will determine whether or not the seed of His Word bears fruit in our lives. 

Quinquagesima precedes Easter by the same number of days as Pentecost follows Easter. It is a watershed in the Christian year and it is no coincidence that we encounter the Transfiguration Gospel at this time as we prepare to revisit Jesus' mission through Lent, Passiontide and Easter. In the Transfiguration Gospel, Mark 9.2-9 we are reminded that God accepts us as we are, thus Quinquagesima is a good day to rejoice at this acceptance and focus on the coming seasons of Lent, Passiontide and Easter.

The acceptance theme of the Transfiguration is absolutely perfect for our current reality. As society becomes progressively more divided over controversies surrounding lockdown decisions, vaccination and how best to remain an inclusive society by protecting the weakest and most vulnerable we must remain united at least over the premise on which decisions are made. I personally struggle with lockdown, the impact it has on so many which to me appears to exceed the protection it allegedly gives. What I do not dispute is that we should always strive towards inclusion. If God accepts us as we are, then we must aim to offer that same acceptance to others. Shrovetide is the perfect time to be thankful for God's acceptance of us - and to examine ourselves and our care for others.

Dr. Ian Paul writes eloquently on his blog Psephizo about possible interpretations of the term "transfiguration". The Gospel of Luke suggests a more profound meaning, that it is not Jesus - or Moses or Elijah who change, but the disciples' understanding which is transformed. I highly recommend reading it, I really enjoy Dr. Paul's insightful articles. (He also tweets under the account @psephizo.) 

Meanwhile as we start the Lenten journey once more, we should remember that the symbolism of the ash cross on our foreheads is threefold. It symbolises God's acceptance of us, indeed to be "Shriven", means to receive forgiveness, to be absolved of our sins. It is our cue to examine ourselves and our faith as we approach Easter, and a timely reminder about our place in society and how we view and care for others.