Hello,I was born and brought up on the east Suffolk coast, in a village called Kessingland, nestled anonymously between Lowestoft and Southwold, in turn the most deprived and most affluent towns in the county. One of the features of that coastline is that it is changing shape over time, sometimes dramatically overnight during a storm, sometimes almost imperceptibly at each high tide. One of our traditions as teenagers was to race down to the sea at midnight on New Year’s Eve to greet the waves in the way that hopefully only teenagers do. The distance was anything between 10 metres and 0 metres, as the waves crashed up against the sea wall at high tide. My brothers and I did it again in our early 30s and only one of us made it without stopping, as the sea was now 100 metres further out, as the sand washed up from down the coast had built up against the groynes. A few miles walk along the beach is a village called Cove Hithe. In 1672 the parishioners decided that they could no longer afford to maintain the 14th century church building and so got permission to re-use the stone to build a smaller chapel within the old walls. I didn’t realise this until last week when I watched a programme called Kate Humble’s Coastal Britain on My5. To be honest I hadn’t given it much thought at the time and just assumed that the building had collapsed over the years and something smaller built inside. But no, the parishioners (and by that it may only have been the few who probably attended) made an active choice to change what they saw as church.Today, 340 years later, the church still has a service every week, served by a House for Duty priest who has three other churches. She will retire in December and what will happen then is unknown. The Churches Conservation Trust own the ruins and the Tower, so it is only the small nave chapel which is owned by the Diocese. People gather from up to 25 miles away to keep worship alive.In 2022, St. Andrew’s, Cove Hithe faces an even greater threat to its existence than affordability. The sea is encroaching at a rate of 3 metres every year and the church sits just 100 metres from the cliff. The path I walked along as a youth has been washed away. What will the churchgoers do once the actual building no longer exists? Will the gathered church gather at another church nearby, or individuals go to their local church? Will that particular church community still choose to worship together as a house church? What will ‘church’ be in 30 years’ time when the stones and mortar have washed up onto Kessingland beach?What inspires me about this story is that 340 years ago churchgoers made an active decision to remain ‘church’. They made a realistic decision about what they could afford and used what they had (the larger building) to make something new.We are facing questions about our existence today, partly because of COVID but also because of a fall in church attendance over many decades and overly ambitious church building over several centuries.What decision will we make as individuals, as individual churches and as an Area? How can we try and ensure a community of faith exists in our villages in 340 years’ time, due to decisions we make over the next few years? How will the people ensure that ‘church’ remains where they live? Because in the end it is the people, not the Church of England governing bodies who will be church. Priests come and go, as do bishops, but in the apocalypse, when Synods and diocese no longer exist, it is the people on the ground who will have power – if they have the courage – to be a community of faith.This is not a letter championing the closure of churches. Indeed, that is not what happened in Cove Hithe. This is a letter championing brave decisions, imaginative and realistic thinking and local people making local decisions both for themselves and for generations to come.Peace and prayers, JoeRev Joe Cant, Team Vicar UAP.
HelloI was born and brought up on the east Suffolk coast, in a village called Kessingland, nestled anonymously between Lowestoft and Southwold, in turn the most deprived and most affluent towns in the county. One of the features of that coastline is that it is changing shape over time, sometimes dramatically overnight during a storm, sometimes almost imperceptibly at each high tide. One of our traditions as teenagers was to race down to the sea at midnight on New Year’s Eve to greet the waves in the way that hopefully only teenagers do. The distance was anything between 10 metres and 0 metres, as the waves crashed up against the sea wall at high tide. My brothers and I did it again in our early 30s and only one of us made it without stopping, as the sea was now 100 metres further out, as the sand washed up from down the coast had built up against the groynes. A few miles walk along the beach is a village called Cove Hithe. In 1672 the parishioners decided that they could no longer afford to maintain the 14th century church building and so got permission to re-use the stone to build a smaller chapel within the old walls. I didn’t realise this until last week when I watched a programme called Kate Humble’s Coastal Britain on My5. To be honest I hadn’t given it much thought at the time and just assumed that the building had collapsed over the years and something smaller built inside. But no, the parishioners (and by that it may only have been the few who probably attended) made an active choice to change what they saw as church.Today, 340 years later, the church still has a service every week, served by a House for Duty priest who has three other churches. She will retire in December and what will happen then is unknown. The Churches Conservation Trust own the ruins and the Tower, so it is only the small nave chapel which is owned by the Diocese. People gather from up to 25 miles away to keep worship alive.In 2022, St. Andrew’s, Cove Hithe faces an even greater threat to its existence than affordability. The sea is encroaching at a rate of 3 metres every year and the church sits just 100 metres from the cliff. The path I walked along as a youth has been washed away. What will the churchgoers do once the actual building no longer exists? Will the gathered church gather at another church nearby, or individuals go to their local church? Will that particular church community still choose to worship together as a house church? What will ‘church’ be in 30 years’ time when the stones and mortar have washed up onto Kessingland beach?What inspires me about this story is that 340 years ago churchgoers made an active decision to remain ‘church’. They made a realistic decision about what they could afford and used what they had (the larger building) to make something new.We are facing questions about our existence today, partly because of COVID but also because of a fall in church attendance over many decades and overly ambitious church building over several centuries.What decision will we make as individuals, as individual churches and as an Area? How can we try and ensure a community of faith exists in our villages in 340 years’ time, due to decisions we make over the next few years? How will the people ensure that ‘church’ remains where they live? Because in the end it is the people, not the Church of England governing bodies who will be church. Priests come and go, as do bishops, but in the apocalypse, when Synods and diocese no longer exist, it is the people on the ground who will have power – if they have the courage – to be a community of faith.This is not a letter championing the closure of churches. Indeed, that is not what happened in Cove Hithe. This is a letter championing brave decisions, imaginative and realistic thinking and local people making local decisions both for themselves and for generations to come.Peace and prayers, Joe Rev Joe Cant, Team Vicar UAP
Christmas seems a long way off now, when we hopefully had some time to celebrate and to rest in the company of family and friends. Everything relating to Christmas: decorations, cards, gifts, tree are all safely put back or disposed of and presents enjoyed in their usage. It seems that Christmas, then is ‘done and dusted’ for another year. And yet right at the beginning of February we have a reminder that Christmas is not done with us yet! The Feast of the Presentation of Christ in the Temple, sometimes known as Candlemas and the Purification of Mary, occurs on the 2 of February, forty days after Christmas, and is one of my favourite feast days, as I know it is for others too.Tradition has it that the greenery decorating homes should be taken down and the Crib scene put away.The festival has a bitter-sweet nature. It’s about revelation, with Jesus being taken to the Temple by Mary and Joseph, in accordance with Jewish law and tradition there presented to the Father and shown to the people. There they are greeted by Simeon and Anna, who rejoice at seeing him. Simeon speaks those prophetic words about the falling and rising of many and the sword that will pierce, leading on to the Passion and to Easter. There are several pointers to the suffering of Jesus in the Christmas season scriptures and liturgy, but I think none so poignant and potent as these words spoken by Simeon. And Anna, telling all who were waiting for God to set Jerusalem free about the child, Jesus and what she had witnessed. And of course, there are those other wonderful words of Simeon’s, ‘Lord, you have kept your promise and let your servant go in peace,’ Words beloved of so many Christians, bringing heartfelt hope and peace.At St. Mary’s Uttoxeter there is a wonderful depiction of the Presentation. It’s my favourite window and I marvel at the scene. Particularly with the thought that Simeon holds the creator of the world in his arms. We can learn much from that scene in the Temple: Simeon, patiently waiting for the Messiah, but praising and giving glory to God; Mary looking on adoringly, but with trepidation in her heart at what was to come; Anna, dedicating herself to a life of worship and joyful proclamation and Joseph looking on in the background with his offering of thanksgiving and obedience, doing what was required. Which one to you associate yourself with?It is also a festival of light too! Coming at a dark time of year in the winter season reminding us that this babe in arms becomes a man , who is Christ the Light of the World.This event and words coming as they do at the very end of the Christmas celebration with Lent nearly always close, makes The Presentation a kind of pivot in the Christian year. It is as if we say’ One last look back to Christmas and now turn towards the cross.’ It seems to signify to me that life goes on, but enables us to look back and to look forward too!I wonder what your “looking back” is like, are there regrets, or are there thoughts of happiness and thankfulness? And I wonder what you are looking forward to? I hope that whatever your circumstance, as you journey on, like Simeon and Anna you can quietly, thankfully and joyfully know that Jesus is with you as he lights your way.Blessings and peaceCharlesRev Charles Dale, Minister for Uttoxeter Area of Parishes
Dear friends,As I write, the world seems to be taking a collective inhale as we hold our breath and await the science of the new COVID variant. We’re tired, weary, exhausted of it all aren’t we, and I hope that by the time this letter arrives in your hand our response will be a little clearer, that perhaps the New Year might resolve to be more positive. I wonder if you, like our family, decided to not make resolutions last year - no rules 2020 morphed into 2021 – everything seemed so uncertain, and challenging ourselves to pull our socks up, and fix everything in our lives, felt, well, an unattainable goal! Of course, the New Year is a good time to look at our habits, be it our finances, our diet, our television or internet habits, but all too often, by the middle of January it's all forgotten, as we remember that all we want to do is huddle down away from the weather and keep warm, with comfort food and comfort watching. And that’s OK!Resolving to look at our lives is a good thing to do, but as this poem suggests, it’s not always easy. “Once I've cleaned the house up” by Adrian PlassOnce I've cleaned this house up properly, I honestly think I'll get somewhere.Once I've pulled out every single piece of furniture and used an abrasive cloth with strong stuff on it, I think I shall come to grips with the rest of my life.Once I've put everything into separate piles, each containing the same sort of thing, if you know what I mean, I think I'll manage.Once I've written a list that includes absolutely everything, I think the whole business will seem very much clearer.Once I've had time to work slowly from one item to another, I'm sure things will change.Once I've eaten sensibly for a week and a half,Once I've sorted out the things that are my fault,Once I've sorted out the things that are NOT my fault,Once I've spent a little more time reading useful books, being with people I like, going to pottery classes, getting out into the air, making bread, drinking less, drinking more, going to the theatre, adopting a third world child, eating free range eggs and writing long letters.Once I've pulled every single piece of furniture right out and cleaned it all properly.Once I've become somebody else, I honestly think I'll get somewhere.I wonder, how many of us are trying to change who we are because we think that's the problem – or that we're more likely to be loved if we change? How many of us are desperately trying to live up to utterly unfair and unrealistic expectations because we look at the media, with their airbrushed images, proof that the camera can lie? How many of us will limp into January, feeling that just keeping going is enough at the moment, making New Year resolutions to change ourselves, and the world, is just too much? And that’s OK!God came into a world that was fragile, hurting and had lost its way. Jesus came because he loves – there is nothing we can do to make him love us more, or less! We are loved, just as we are, and God longs to be in relationship with each one of us, imperfections and all! Do you notice, how over time those who love each other become more attuned with one another? It isn't an immediate thing, it can’t be forced, it takes time. This is the same with our relationship with Jesus. Our lives and habits are changed over time as we heed the greatest of all resolutions to “love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: 'You shall love your neighbour as yourself.” (Matthew 22: 36-40)So, this January, let's step off the treadmill of unattainable resolutions, and instead open our hearts to a relationship with Jesus. Let’s give ourselves the space and time to seek God afresh, to catch glimpses of his goodness all around us, to see how our wonderful church communities can help that journey, and to find a love that will last eternity!Happy, and peaceful new year.Rev JulesRev Jules WalkerDiocese of LichfieldTeam Vicar in the Uttoxeter Area of Parishes
