Season of Springtime
The Revd Sorrel Shamel-Wood
As soon as the first daffodils erupt on grass verges, the daylight stretches out a little longer and there is even a patch of bright blue sky, I feel my soul lighten and begin to sing. After a dismally wet January and February, with many beset by coughs and other illnesses, the signs of Spring seem to shout a declaration of hope and joy.
Meanwhile, the Church is deep into the liturgical season of Lent, a time of solemnity and fasting. The altar is clothed in "Lenten array" and the hymns remind us of Christ's sojourn in the wilderness and his battles with temptation.
The contrast between the liturgical and physical seasons, or between the liturgical life of the Church and our own personal season of lived experience, can sometimes feel at odds or disconnected. At times in my life, I have felt lost in a spiritual wilderness when the Church is exuberant with celebration. At other times, the opposite is true.
Even our language can reflect this tension. In English, the word "Lent" originates from the Old English word lencten, meaning "spring" or "springtime," which referred to the season when the days began to lengthen. It is derived from West Germanic roots (langitinaz), literally meaning "long days," referencing the increasing daylight in the Northern Hemisphere. Thus, the English word for this liturgical season is rooted in the hope of Springtime. To me, the German "Fastenzeit" feels more appropriate! Or perhaps the French "carême" and Spanish "Cuaresma", which both have roots in the Latin word "quadrāgēsima" meaning "forty".
How do we respond when our lived experience feels at odds with the liturgical life of the Church? For me, this is a key facet of the richness of making this pilgrim journey together. Whilst we may be in different places in our spiritual lives, we nevertheless join together to experience the story of Christ, the journey towards his Passion and what that means for humanity. We bring our own unique experiences and perspectives, we journey alongside each other, sharing our joys and sorrows, we listen to and make space for each other. In this way, the story of Lent and Easter becomes new for us each year, even in the rhythms of its familiarity.