The Cruellest Month?

A recent TV quiz show (yes, it was probably Pointless) included this question:

According to the poet, T.S. Eliot, what is “the cruellest month”?

The answer, as I’m sure you know, is April. But why is April the cruellest month? Eliot’s The Waste Land, from which this is the opening line, is a poem written in the aftermath of a global pandemic: not COVID19, but the Spanish Flu, which Eliot and his wife contracted in December 1918. The Spanish Flu may have killed up to 100 million people globally (more than those who had died in the First World War), whereas COVID19 (with the benefit of antibiotics and vaccines) has killed just over 6 million. The Waste Land, which is the setting for Eliot’s poem, is a barren, devastated land in which nothing grows. In this dark place, April is the cruellest month because, in our world, in normal times, April is all about growth and new life (at least in the Northern Hemisphere). It is Spring and the flowers which have lain dormant throughout the Winter start to show their colours. In the Waste Land, this does not happen, which is why, in the poem, April is the cruellest month. The hope that we normally associate with April and with Spring is to be dashed.

During our own global pandemic, the last two Aprils have also been cruel: in March 2020, the Coronavirus Act 2020 received Royal Assent and lockdown measures came into force in the UK. As far as I remember, we thought this would be a short-term period of deprivation. How wrong we were! In England, COVID restrictions with legal force stayed in place until February 2022. Even now, we are being reminded that the pandemic is not over, and that we need to continue to exercise caution and modify our behaviour.

So, how does April 2022 look? On the first of April, Ofgem raised the cap that limits the charges that energy suppliers are allowed to make, meaning that energy prices to consumers shot up alarmingly. Money saving expert Martin Lewis, and others, advised everyone to submit their meter readings to the energy companies on the 31 March, to ensure that the higher prices applied only to fuel used from 1 April. Inevitably, the energy companies’ websites went into meltdown, making this very difficult to do. Sadly, none of this turned out to be an April Fool’s joke and many will struggle to pay their bills. The future doesn’t hold much encouragement either, with the prospect of further eye-watering increases in October.

From a personal perspective, the disruption to travel is causing anxiety, with airlines cancelling flights because of staff shortages due to Covid, and scenes of chaos at airports as people become increasingly frustrated by queues and long delays at security and check-in.

April has also seen the continuing horrors of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, with stories of atrocities being committed by Russian soldiers. We have been faced with shocking images of civilian deaths, and there are calls for President Putin to face trial for war crimes. The cruelty of war is difficult to imagine for those of us fortunate enough never to have faced it.

Is there any antidote to the cruelty we see around us? Is there hope to be found, anywhere? At the time of writing, in the church calendar it is Lent. I’ve never really been a fan of ‘giving something up for Lent’. Especially when our motives may be mixed, at best. As someone has said, fasting without prayer is just a diet. Our Lenten disciplines can be just as self-centred as our festivities.

The English word ‘Lent’ comes from an Old English word ‘lencten‘ which simply means ‘Spring’, as that is when Lent happens in the Northern Hemisphere. (I gather that, in Dutch, the word for Spring is ‘lente‘.) ‘Lencten‘ may be related to the word ‘lengthen’, which is what the days do at this time of year. Lent happens in Spring, when we see the earth coming back to life. And it prepares us for Easter when Christians consider the story of Jesus who faces the wasteland of Good Friday and Holy Saturday. We know that the darkness will be broken open by the light of resurrection on Easter Day, but I wonder how it all seemed to Jesus’s disciples who did not have that perspective. Cruel, no doubt.

The author of the Letter to the Hebrews in our New Testament encourages us to “look to Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith”:

who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God. (Hebrews 12.2)

I’m afraid I have no words of wisdom when it comes to energy bills. Nor to the many other horrors and cruelties of the world in which we live. But Lent reminds us that the death of Winter gives way to the warmth and light of Spring, and that the wasteland of Good Friday will be replaced by the joy of Easter Day. As an old preacher once said:

“It’s Friday. But Sunday’s coming!”

Alan Jewell

Pressing On

Some years ago, I had a phone call from a parishioner. He worked for one of the utility companies and wanted to know if I could help him with the date of Easter. He was preparing for a meeting and needed to know when Easter would fall over a number of years as it has a bearing on the demand for electricity. There was no Google in those days, so I took down my copy of the Alternative Service Book (1980) and was able to find the information he was looking for. It’s not often that I am able to provide such a useful service!

The calculation which gives us the date of Easter each year is beyond my simple brain, but it has something to do with full moons and the vernal equinox. (Not the actual full moon or equinox, of course, but ecclesiastical ones… Don’t ask me!) I gather that Easter can fall on any date between 22 March and 25 April. This year, Easter Day is 21 April, which is fairly late.

It’s slightly easier to calculate the date of the Annual Parochial Church Meeting: it has to be held not later than 30 April each year. At St Matthew’s, this year’s meeting will be held in church after the morning service on Sunday 14 April. At St Cross, the meeting follows the service on 28 April. Anyone whose name is on the church’s electoral roll is entitled to attend the meeting and take part in its proceedings. It’s worth saying here that, if you wish to have your name entered on the roll for either church, you must fill in an application form. If you have been on the roll before, that doesn’t count as this is one of the years when a new roll is prepared, and your details will not be carried over. Application forms are available from either church and each church has an Electoral Roll officer: at St Matthew’s, it’s Richard Johnson and at St Cross it’s Sandra Bates. If you want further information, please ask.

You may wonder why you would want to have your name on the church electoral roll. There aren’t many benefits, it has to be said! But it is one way of declaring your faith. You are identifying yourself as a Christian who belongs to a particular Anglican church – St Matthew’s or St Cross in our case.

But the Church of England is not really a ‘membership’ organisation. Anyone who lives in the parish is a parishioner – not just those who go to church. Of course, baptism is the sacrament of initiation into the life of the Christian Church. If you are baptised, you become a member of the Church (the catholic – or worldwide – church, not just the Church of England). In Anglicanism, confirmation is usually seen as an opportunity to confirm your baptismal faith – particularly if you were baptised as an infant – and to have your faith confirmed by the Bishop. But, as a former Archbishop of Canterbury, William Temple, said:

“The Church is the only society that exists for the benefit of those who are not its members.”

Having your name on the church electoral roll, taking part in its annual meeting, perhaps even putting your name forward to serve as a member of the Parochial Church Council or as a Churchwarden, are all ways in which we can serve our parish – including those who are not church members. At a time when church attendance is declining, and many organisations find their membership numbers falling, the importance of us identifying ourselves as Christians is crucial. I’m writing this before Lent, a time when many Christians look again at what it means to identify themselves with Jesus Christ, to walk in his footsteps in preparation for our celebration of the resurrection.

At our annual meetings – either side of Easter, this year – we long to see signs that our churches are alive, made of people who identify with Jesus, in his death and resurrection, knowing the power of his love. As we read in the letter to the Philippians:

“I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the sharing of his sufferings by becoming like him in his death, if somehow I may attain the resurrection from the dead. Not that I have already obtained this or have already reached the goal; but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own.”

Philippians 3:10-12

At your baptism, you were baptised into Christ Jesus, his death and resurrection (Romans 6:3,4). In confirmation, you made a public commitment to the faith into which you were baptised. By joining the electoral roll, you identify yourself as an active, worshipping member of a particular congregation. And in all of this, we “press on” because Christ Jesus has made us his own.

I wish you well as you press on in your journey through Lent towards Easter!

Alan Jewell

It’s an Adventure!

I was talking to someone recently who told me that he had heard that vicars were not allowed to work more than 35 hours a week. I wish I had known that! When I was offered this job, I had to complete a health questionnaire to make sure I was sufficiently fit to take on the demands of full-time vicaring. The company that administered the questionnaire did so on the basis that the job was 40 hours a week. I wish! The reality is that this job will take as much time as you give it and then some more. There are some clergy who have part-time posts but there is nothing part-time about vocation.

So, what about part-time Christians? Is there any such thing? You’d be right if you guessed that the answer is ‘no’. One of the problems we have is that the word ‘Christian’ is often used to mean someone who is good, or kind, or nice. My wife, Rose, says that she once helped a colleague pick up some papers that had been dropped and was told, “that was very Christian of you”. There are many good and kind people – atheists, Muslims and Jews, for example – who would be offended to have their goodness and kindness labelled ‘Christian’. And not all who go by the name ‘Christian’ are particularly good and kind people. Some of us worry that we are not very good Christians…

Acts 11:26 says that “it was in Antioch that the disciples were first called ‘Christians.” In other words, a Christian is a disciple and a disciple is a Christian. So, what is a disciple?

In the gospels, disciples are called by Jesus to spend time with him, learn from him and reach out to others in his name. In the Great Commission (Matthew 28:16-20), the disciples are sent out to

make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. (Matthew 28:16-20)

I often quote the following from the Revd Dr Alison Morgan, a Christian thinker and author:

discipleship is a form of apprenticeship undertaken in community

It’s an apprenticeship: none of us is a master, we’re all learning on the job from the Master. We make mistakes and move on.

It’s undertaken in community: there may be Christians who are called to the solitary life but most of us live out our discipleship in community with others. Alison Morgan, again, says that “the plural of disciple is church“.

Jesus warns that this is no part-time job and no easy calling. In Luke 14:28-33 he compares it to someone who decides to build a tower. Imagine starting off with the best of intentions, digging the foundations, putting up the first few courses of brick and then realising that you don’t have the money to finish the job. Everyone who passes by will see not a tower but a folly, something ridiculous: a monument to your stupidity. Or a king going out to war against another who doesn’t sit down first and work out if he has the troops to get the job done. If he hasn’t, he takes the diplomatic route to see what he can rescue from the situation.

Who among you, Jesus says, if you were going to build a tower or start a war, would not work out first whether you have the resources to finish the task? Jesus is talking to large crowds. Many of them may be simply going along for the ride. Many may not have given any thought as to where this particular ride might take them. We know, as we follow Jesus towards Holy Week and Easter, that his journey is to the cross. On the other side of that is resurrection but he will not get there without walking the Via Dolorosa, the way of suffering.

“I’m going to the cross: who’s coming with me?” It’s hardly the most enticing advertising slogan ever but that is how Jesus calls people to discipleship. As Dietrich Bonhoeffer puts it:

“When Christ calls a man, he bids him come and die.”

This is not masochism and it gives no support for sadism. All human existence is touched by suffering: Christian discipleship is the call to die! At baptism, we are baptised into the death and resurrection of Jesus. What is it that dies?, given that most of us were baptised as infants and here we are still walking around and breathing in and out! What is it that dies? It is our ambition. It is our self-determination. It is the view that the universe revolves around me. The implications of that take a lifetime to work out but the selfish self must die so that the God-self, your real self, can live.

I’m writing this in Lent, which many find a good time to look again at our discipleship, our walk with Jesus. Have we counted the cost, weighed up the pros and cons? Jesus warns us that Christian discipleship is tough; it’s costly. But, he assures us, the benefits are out of this world! In one of the songs that we sing with the children who come to Praise & Play, we’re reminded that:

It’s an adventure following Jesus.
It’s an adventure learning from him.
It’s an adventure living for Jesus.
It’s an adventure following him.
Let’s go where he leads us
Turn away from wrong
For we know we can trust him
To help us as we go along.
It’s an adventure following Jesus…1

In April, both parishes hold their Annual Meetings: a good time to re-evaluate our calling to live for and serve God in the communities in which God has put us. On 16th April, we celebrate the resurrection of Jesus and are reminded that although being a Christian is never easy, we are invited to live out our discipleship in the light of Easter.

The resurrection assures us that a life of Christian discipleship, although costly, is worth it. God puts his seal of approval on the self-giving life of Jesus and shows us that a life like that, lived in love, is one that even death cannot ultimately put a stop to.

I hope you will be able to join us for one or more of our services in Holy Week and Easter.

Alan Jewell


1. [Capt Alan Price © 1990 Song Solutions Daybreak]