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.
Our Area Staff letter for December 2021Dear friends, As I sit writing this letter to you all I am reminded by the weather of how the seasons progress through our lives. Last night we put our clocks back an hour rising this morning in expectation of a light and bright morning. But no, it was dark and dismal until ten thirtyish. All of a sudden the sun shone brightly through the church windows dazzling everyone inside. All this helped me to focus on this December letter. As we approach the celebration of the arrival of the Christ child into our world, and probably more importantly into our lives, we spend Advent preparing ourselves to greet Christ. In preparing any letter or talk about Jesus I always try to place myself in his time so that I can attempt to understand something of what he was talking about, in the context of the world as it was then. How would the people of Jesus’ time have seen today? Would they have been able to comprehend the freedom we have? Would changing the hour on the clocks make them smile and say “you cannot change the weather or the happenings of the seasons”? Could they take on board the busyness of our lives? As the people struggled under the weight of the Roman occupation the promise from the Prophets of better things to come must have seemed like a bright beacon before their eyes something to look forward to, a promise of freedom, a promise of light and the fulfilment of God’s covenant with his people. When you read this letter will we be in similar circumstances? Listening to the experts on the news and in the papers it would appear we are heading for a time of severe shortages. With the aftereffects of the pandemic still hovering over us are we in a similar position to the people of Jesus’ time? The threat of another lockdown looming over us. The rising numbers of infections. Seeing the nurses and doctors straining to cope. The times of darkness seem to be all about us, but, as Pip says in Dickens novel, we have “great expectations” in the fact that God has never ever turned away from us and always pours out his unconditional love on us all the time, in the sending of his Son, Jesus, born in a dark and oppressed time, in a dark and dismal stable to bring us all hope and love, not just over the Christmas period but in all our lives.All God’s blessings. Chris.Revd. Chris Brown
AREA LETTER FROM THE RECTORY. 2020/2021 has been unprecedented as we have faced the uncertainty, anxiety, changes and grief caused by the Covid pandemic. Much has been lost – people, jobs, schooling, freedoms, routines and perhaps even hope. This year, the Season of Remembering, from All Souls’ to Remembrance Day, has an added poignancy and there is special need in our communities to pause, reflect and remember. What this looks like will be different in different contexts. Loss is often compounded and any specific service or activity will remind people of unresolved past or present loss and pain. There is often a need to ‘do’ something and to ‘mark’ a loss to help to bring closure and healing. This year why not take a moment to specifically think about the losses that you have had over these past couple of years. In most of our Area churches an All Souls’ Day service will be taking place on or near 2nd November, ask at your local church when theirs is. At this service we will remember those who have died at any time and in any way, especially those who have died during 2020/21. There may be a Remembrance Service around 11th November which will be specifically about people who have died in the world wars or armed service. If you are not able to go to a service there are other ways to remember someone. A virtual candle can be lit on www.churchofenglandfunerals.org/lightacandle Or you could stop for a moment somewhere and remember someone close to you and use this prayer, you may want to light a candle at home as you say it. God our Father, we thank you for the person we knew, the years we shared, the good we saw, and the love we received. Turn the darkness of death into the dawn of new life, and the sorrow of parting into the joy of heaven. Amen. Blessings Rev Margaret
The RectoryOctober 2021I have an old apple tree in the rectory garden. Since we arrived in July 2016 we have had a crop each year to harvest, with last year's being a bumper crop. This year however, there are very little, if any, apples. We have harvested a large amount of tomatoes – thank you to the kind generosity of those of you who brought me the baby tomato plants during my confinement due to the heel injury! Potatoes and cabbages we have also grown this year – cabbages for the first time. We’re having a competition with the caterpillars as to who gets them first! We have much to celebrate as we eat another meal with our harvested home grown produce.Celebrating harvest goes very deep in us – it seems to stir in us a sense of our country roots, memories of a land that lived by agriculture before the Industrial revolution. Harvest marks the end of a sequence in the church/country calendar. Plough Sunday in January, when the farm implements were blessed; Rogation Days just before Ascension Day in May, when prayers were made for favourable weather for the growing crops; Lammas Day (not when we celebrate Lamas!) at the beginning of August, when the first loaf made with flour from the new crop was offered in token thanks, and coming full circle, (though it was introduced much later on the liturgical scene, in the 19th Century) Harvest. Time for a pause before it all starts again. Time to be thankful, to remember God’s mercy and goodness, enjoying the sight of full storehouses and barns, pantry shelves and freezers. Time to feel secure against the coming winter. It is good to be thankful, and we come gladly, enjoying the colour, the smells and sometimes gathering together for a Harvest meal.But there is something uncomfortable about Harvest, too, especially now that we can see on our television and computer screens that there are people who haven’t got a harvest to celebrate, some who haven’t had a harvest for years, perhaps because the rains have failed, perhaps because civil war have made it impossible to cultivate the land. The Jewish people faced the same situation on a smaller scale. Reading the instructions in Deuteronomy we are reminded that God’s people have always been told to be generous and help the poor to share our good fortune. Deuteronomy speaks of very different farming methods, but the message is clear: don’t keep it all to yourself, leave something for those in need.And the New Testament warns us against taking things for granted, being pleased with our achievement. That man who pulled down his barn and built a bigger one, stuffed it full sat back feeling pleased with himself got a sharp reminder – ‘You fool! This very night your life is being demanded of you. And the things you have prepared, whose will they be?’(Luke 12:16-21) That’s the question Harvest asks us too.In the Bible, harvest and judgement go together – the parable of the wheat and the tares puts the point very starkly (Matthew 13:24-30). So it’s right and good to be thankful, but we have to ask ourselves how our thankfulness can find expression in making it possible for all humankind to be thankful. We can’t ever sit back and say we’ve done enough – not while there are those children with stick limbs and swollen bellies looking at us hopelessly from our screens.Imagine if my apple crop this year was a year in year out event and it was what I relied on for food for myself, my family and community. We need to support our local food banks and ‘Helping Hands’ and support those in need. We also need to support the agencies who work to improve farming methods, but also with those who challenge the leaders around the world to remove world debt. We must keep asking the questions and seeking action. Harvest is the point where, far from sitting back and thinking how fortunate we are, we have to prepare to sow the seeds and encourage the growth for the harvest to come, when the will of God will be done on earth, as it is in heaven.Rev Margaret SherwinArea Rector
