Dear Friends,

 

Did you notice, last month, that no sooner had the reduced Christmas items made their tired exit from the supermarket shelves, than the Easter eggs appeared? Easter eggs in January! I know that supermarkets

Insist on giving us hot cross buns all year round (to my great annoyance) but to have Easter eggs so soon is quite inappropriate. But then, they did give us Christmas carols in October, so what can you expect?

 

It must be admitted, though, that the Church year does go in for some rapid mood swings, and none more sudden than the change from the Christmas season (which for us continues until the celebration of Candlemas on February 2^nd) into the penitential season of Lent, beginning on Ash Wednesday, which this year will fall on 21^st February. At Candlemas, we remember how the parents of the infant Jesus took him to be presented at the great

Temple in Jerusalem, and there they were greeted by an old couple, Simeon and Anna, who had been waiting for this moment all their lives – the appearance of the promised Saviour. When Simeon takes the baby in his arms,

 in a moment of insight, he predicts the suffering that lies ahead, for the baby, and for his mother – and suddenly the mood changes; after the joy of the Christmas birth story, we realise what it is going to lead to.

 

Life, of course, is just like that: none of us knows what lies ahead (perhaps just as well), and when we look back

Later at photographs of happy times, the memories can sometimes seem bittersweet, as we think of subsequent sadnesses. As the poet William Blake wrote: ‘Joy and woe are woven fine’: there are times when they seem to come so closely together.

 

One aspect of my job which makes it both challenging and wonderful, is that it embraces both the joys and sorrows of life. Births, marriages and deaths – baptisms, weddings and funerals – are all part of my working life, and sometimes I have to switch very quickly from one mood to another. The contrasts reflect the variety of human experience, with its joys and sorrows, laughter and tears. It’s important for all of us to get the balance right: not

to dwell unnecessarily on the gloomy aspects of human life, nor to pretend that all is bright sunshine. Somehow, facing up to the inevitability of the dark side of our lives puts things into perspective and helps us to cope with whatever lies ahead. I saw this again recently in the way my auntie Freda, who died last month, faced up to her imminent death with serenity and courage, thus giving great strength to her family in the process (she even insisted that ‘Always look on the bright side of life’ was played at the end of her funeral, much against the vicar’s better judgment!).

 

Roman emperors, at the height of their powers, used to have a slave whisper in their ear as they paraded in glory

intheir chariots: ‘remember you are mortal’. Similarly, if you come to church on Ash Wednesday (and what better way to begin Lent?) as the symbolic smudge of ash is placed on your forehead, you will be reminded that ‘you are dust, and to dust you will return’ – a sobering thought. But as John Wesley used to say: ‘Live every day as though

it is your last’. It’s good advice: if you can live in the light of this insight, every day will seem more precious and full of meaning, as you try to live it to the full. Perhaps resolving to live like this will help to make Lent a more positive experience.

 

If all this sounds rather gloomy, however, let me cheer you up by reminding you that the days are getting longer, the bulbs are coming up in the garden, and by the end of the month, Spring will be on the way – a change of mood

to lift all our spirits. And then it really will be time for those chocolate eggs – but NOT YET!

 

With love,

Rosey