Candlemas

Not being a particularly Marianist family it wouldn’t normally have occurred to us to mark Candlemas, but this being our English Year, the calendar demands it.

I like that Candlemas is one of those holidays heavy with the patina of time and tradition. Ostensibly it marks the purification of Mary, 40 days after the birth of Jesus, and his own presentation in the temple. From ideas of consecration and purification came the tradition of  the blessing of candles in church. Then came the lighting of candles in house windows, a tradition which we duly followed tonight.

It also typically marked the time of year when candles were no longer necessary for indoor day labourers as it was light until around five. With this eye on the season and thus also the weather, tradition also dictated that whatever the weather today, the year ahead would be the dominated by the opposite. This is good news as it was bally cold today, although my sons decided there wasn’t much scientific reason to believe such a thing. We did decide, however, that sometimes it’s fun to believe things you know aren’t true, if only for a moment.

If Candlemas Day be fair and bright
Winter will have another fight.
If Candlemas Day brings cloud and rain,
Winter won’t come again.

St. Wulfstan’s Day

This is the view from work:

The tower is of Worcester Cathedral, a building that began to take on its present glory during the bishopric of St. Wulfstan (died 1095), the last surviving pre-Norman conquest bishop. Wulfstan was once a popular saint and his tomb (wrecked during the Reformation) made Worcester a pilgrimage site. Now long forgotten, the 19th January is St. Wulfstan’s Day. Jacob and I enjoyed the peal of bells, grateful to work in the shadow of such a magnificent building.

Lord God,
who raised up Wulfstan to be a bishop among your people
and a leader of your Church:
help us, after his example,
to live simply,
to work diligently,
and to make your kingdom known;
through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Plough Sunday/Monday

The first Monday after Epiphany is Plough Monday when the ploughs are traditionally readied and the soil first turned over for the year. In some places, particularly in the eastern shires, a plough was paraded through town by the plough boys in an attempt to collect donations. Various vulgarities, e.g. cross-dressing, often took place, of which the Puritans took a Very Dim View. The ploughs were blessed by the vicar the Sunday before.

Feeling somewhat pagan we lit some candles by our vegetable patch and discussed what we’d like to grow this year. Consensus was carrots, lettuce, onions, spinach, beans and rocket. We also have raspberry bushes and several apple and pear trees. The kids have been instructed to turn a spade in the newly composted soil when they get home from school tomorrow.

The English Year/Twelfth Night

Guided by Steve Roud’s excellent The English Year, our family has embarked in 2012 on an effort to properly mark the rhythm of the traditional English calendar. We expect to be cheese-rolling in the spring, eating figs on Palm Sunday, and doing Halloween the proper way.

Life got in the way of doing Twelfth Night justice yesterday, although I was fortunate to attend and speak at an Epiphany service at Worcester Cathedral. We did hold off until yesterday to take down our Christmas decorations — it’s a shame that Christmas now seems to peter out at New Year. Becky made us some traditional “Lamb’s Wool,” a warm, wassail-like drink where the apple pulp is supposed to look a little like wool. Here’s M. enjoying her cup: