Shrovetide & Turning the Fresh Page of Spring
An invitation to rewrite the book
Today was Shrove Tuesday, the final day of Shrovetide or the ‘Pre-Lenten season’, which either lasts for three days or seventeen days, depending on your point of view. This is a period of preparation for Lent, which in itself is a preparation for Easter. I must admit that I like the slow mindfulness of this coming into spring. I often underestimate how much energy it takes to wake up from the dark and becoming more aware of that movement; of the ending of Christmastide at Candlemas, and then the intake of breath before Shrovetide and Lent begin, is valuable. The more that we are able to mark the holiness of our days the better.
The seventeen day Shrovetide begins on Septuagesima Sunday, the ninth Sunday before Easter and the third before Ash Wednesday. Septuagesima comes from the Latin word for ‘seventieth’, falling as it does around seventy days before Easter. The subsequent Sundays; Sexagesima, Quinquagesima, and Quadragesima, translate as ‘sixtieth’, ‘fiftieth’, and ‘fortieth’ respectively. These pre-Lenten Sundays were abolished as part of the liturgical calendar by the second Vatican Council and ceased to be marked from 1970. However, Septuagesima Sunday remains the first day of the carnival season in many countries.
Carnival, or Mardi Gras, is a period of public celebration, parades, and street parties; a welcome opportunity to rejoice before the ‘stripping back’ of Lent. Often carnival involves ‘over-indulgence’ in alcohol, meat, and sweet foods which will then be given up, which of course is the purpose of Shrove Tuesday, or Pancake Day; a chance to use up the last of our flour, eggs, butter, and sugar before Ash Wednesday begins. Another facet of carnival is the wearing of masks and costumes, the stripping away of individuality to allow for a deeper, collective experience. Oliver Rafferty SJ, notes that carnival’s “most important social function was as a highly ritualised challenge to the established order of Church and State” and that, “this was often done under the cover of anonymity and hence the need for the dressing up and masking of participants. This essential element gave individuals freedom to indulge in chaotic displays of anarchic behaviour which sought to undermine the sanctimonious seriousness of ‘normal’ life.” Carnival then was an opportunity to confront the dogma of religion and the strict monarchical hierarchy with a different reality.
Carnival might also be thought of as a sort of ‘wassailing’ of the year, with the last of the winter spirits being driven out in a cacophony of noise to make way for the new, but what that new might be is in many ways for us to choose. In Pieter Bruegel the Elder’s 1559 painting on the theme, ‘The Fight Between Carnival and Lent’, Carnival, depicted as a rotund king riding a barrel of beer, and ‘Lady Lent’, a starving nun with a beehive on her head (beehives being a symbol of the church), joust for dominance. Here are Carnival and Lent as two manifestations of the human experience; plenty and poverty, feast and famine, merrymaking and moderation, chaos and order; springtime Oak and Holly Kings of the human heart.
We are really not very good at negotiating between extremes and so often find ourselves going far too much one way or the other; Carnival and Lent remind us to watch the path. Indeed, in Bruegel’s painting a couple are being led between both along a path of light as though being shown the dangers inherent in becoming too identified with either way of being. We all need our times of celebration and revelry, giddy with abundance like the hedgerows of autumn. We all need our times of being stripped back, waiting for new growth like the bare earth before spring.
Whilst we might feel inclined to turn away from the austerity of Lent and to celebrate the liberation of Carnival, both have their dark and light. Carnival was often associated with violence and with the further pushing aside of the already marginalised, although of course we must always consider who was reporting such happenings. If we are honest about ourselves though we will see that in many large groups, liberated after being too long hemmed in, there is potential for things to go too far. It is this dark seam in rich strata of humanity that allows us to weave the crown of thorns again and again, for the migrant, the refugee, the poor, the vulnerable, the scapegoated, the fox, the badger, the cormorant, the Christ. This too we will consider in the weeks to come, and Carnival, among so many things, is a reminder of what we are capable of at our worst.
Southwark Fair, which was held in September to coincide with the Feast of the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary had its delights, including a ‘Mr Pinchbeck, who caused a tree to grow out of a flower pot on the table and flower and bear fruit in a minute’, and stallholders collecting money to help prisoners in the nearby Marshalsea. Nevertheless, amidst much reported criminality, a woman was trampled to death by the crowds in 1733, prior to the Fair being banned in 1763. Similarly, there have been many attempts to ban carnival itself. In 743, the Synod of Leptines in Belgium spoke out against the ‘excesses of February’, and dire warnings were also issued in this period against people who attempted to drive out winter via a ‘variety of less honourable acts’. Confession books from the period also tells us much about the activities of the common people who were noted to dress as an animal or an old woman during festivities in January and February, despite the severe penance required. This writing down of confessions in a book may explain where the name ‘Shrovetide’ comes from, as the original meaning in Old English of ‘scrifan’, whose root is in the Latin, ‘scribo’, is ‘to write’, but has now come to mean ‘confess’, to be ‘shriven’, perhaps then to ‘rewrite’ the book.
Moving to the present day, we find the annual ‘Shrovetide football’ game, which takes place over two days in the rural town of Ashbourne in Derbyshire and have been played in England since the 12th Century and in Ashbourne since at least 1667. This game is played on a ‘pitch’ that is three miles long, stretching from one side of the town to the other, and any number of people are allowed to join in with birth in relation to the town’s river dictating whether one should join the Up’ards or Down’ards team. The game is characterised by much eye gouging, punching, and stomping, shops and boarded up and parking in the main streets of the town is much discouraged! There are very few rules involved but, tellingly, these include the prohibition of murder or manslaughter, with ‘unnecessary violence’ being frowned upon, the ball not being carried in a motorised vehicle or hidden in a bag, coat, or rucksack, and the avoidance of cemeteries, churchyards, and memorial gardens. Enough said I think!
In Bohemia in the Czech Republic, a Shrove Tuesday tradition sees a man dressing up as the personification of ‘Shrovetide’ and whoever is able to snatch a straw from his hat and place it under a hen is assured of a fine batch of eggs in the spring.
As for the, perhaps by now welcome, peace and quiet of Lent, it once would have made much practical sense to enjoy all our perishable foods, such as meat and dairy, before the warming days of spring, and then to give meaning to doing without them until a new season of food could be gathered. It would also give people of the land a chance to cleanse through fasting and the taking of spring tonics to wake up the body, mind, and blood. This finishing up of our winter larder is expressed in many ways. The Syrian Orthodox church celebrate ‘Moonnu Nombu’ at this time, a three day pre-Lenten fast which recalls Jonah’s three days in the belly of the whale. In Byzantine and Orthodox traditions, ‘meatfare’ and ‘cheesefare’ Sundays are designated to help use up these ingredients.
In Ukraine, Belarus, and Russia the week before Lent is Maslenitsa, which may be the oldest surviving Slavic holiday. Also known as Butter Week, Crepe Week, or, again, Cheesefare Week, it marks the last opportunity before Great Lent to enjoy social activities such as dancing. In some communities pancakes will be offered to the poor and a straw effigy called ‘Lady Maslenitsa’ will be built. At the end of Maslenitsa she will be burned in a bonfire, into which any remaining pancakes are also thrown. The ashes are then buried to bring fertility to the year’s crops. The week also includes outdoor activities, such as sledding and ice skating, family visits and strengthening community bonds. The last day of the festival is the Sunday of Forgiveness, during which people will ask for forgiveness from those they have wronged and offer small gifts. So deeply interwoven are the land and the people that both are clearing and preparing the ‘ground’ for the year ahead.
In Iceland, Shrove Tuesday is known as ‘Sprengidagur’, or ‘Bursting Day’, and is characterised by the eating of salted meat and peas. The word ‘carnival’ itself is said to come from the Latin, ‘carne levare’, to ‘remove meat’. The last three days of Shrovetide then are our final chance to use up all of these foods (not forgetting ‘Fat Thursday the week before).
Shrove Monday, also known ‘Rose Monday’ and ‘Merry Monday’, is known by the name of ‘Collop’, or ‘Collopy’, Monday in Britain. The ‘collop’ refers to the traditional meal of the day; leftover meat, or ‘collops of bacon’, and eggs, although in East Cornwall it is sometimes referred to as ‘Peasen’ or ‘Paisen’ Monday due to the local custom of eating pea soup on that day, presumably with bacon added. Interestingly, Lithuania have a similar tradition of eating pea soup on the last day of Shrovetide, Shrove Tuesday.
Known in Britain, and elsewhere, as ‘Pancake Day’ and in others as ‘Mardi Gras’, or ‘Fat Tuesday’, Shrove Tuesday is filled with tradition. Our custom of eating pancakes on this day dates back until at least the 16th Century, although the instruction to be ‘shriven’ is much older. Church bells were traditionally rung on this day, the toll being known as ‘the Shriving Bell’, both to call people to confession and to remind everyone to start cooking their pancakes. Christianity is full of mixed messages!
‘Mob football’ games are a feature of Shrove Tuesday festivities in some towns, such as Ashbourne, mentioned previously, but also Alnwick in Northumberland, Atherstone in Warwickshire, St Colom Major in Cornwall, and Sedgefield in County Durham. In others pancake races take place, thought to be inspired by a 15th Century housewife from Olney, Buckinghamshire, who was once so engrossed in making pancakes that, when she heard the shriving bell calling her to confession, she ran out of the house frying pan, pancake and all, tossing it to stop it burning in the hot pan! Pancake races still happen there, with only women allowed to join in and with the instruction to wear a bonnet and apron.
In Scarborough, it’s traditional for local people to skip over long fishing ropes from the harbour on this day, called by the town crier with a ‘pancake bell’. In Whitechapel, Lancashire children, echoing many traditions of going from house to house, visit local homes to ask, “Please, a pancake” before being rewarded with sweets or oranges. At Westminster School in London, the "Pancake Grease" is held, an event during which the schoolmaster tosses a very large pancake over a bar that's set to about 15 feet high. The children then make a mad scramble for the pancake and whoever emerges with the largest piece is the winner.
And so, it seems that we begin our spring in the same spirit as we journeyed through winter, with our traditions full of the invitation to share what we have in unity and community, not to grasp or cling with the thought that we might then not have enough, but to trust the earth to give us enough, and freely; that what we give out will be returned when we too have need. It seems to me though that we are encouraged to trust less and less, to instead blame, to scapegoat and point the finger, to believe that everyone is out to take what we have and that it is our right to have it, even at the expense of another. In the invitation of our seasonal festivals we are shown both the best and the worst that we can be and Shrovetide and Lent reveal that to us in all the raw, stripped back, vulnerability that we can bear and bare, and perhaps even more than that. We may not like what we see but it is a blessing to be shown it. So, this evening let’s rejoice in our pancakes, and I hope that there will be far too many until we are full to bursting, and then let’s let it all go; the grasping, the fear, the meanness, the blame, the always wanting to be full, let’s turn the page of our confessional and give ourselves up to the green things of spring. We can be so much better than we are. They are waiting to cleanse our blood, wake us up, and help us rewrite the book.
References:
Adapted from my original piece at http://radicalhoneybee.blogspot.com/2019/03/shrovetide-turning-fresh-page-of-spring.html
On Shrovetide ~
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shrovetide
https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/shrive
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Septuagesima
https://www.catholicnewsagency.com/news/how-to-pregame-lent-septuagesima-carnival-and-shrovetide-56266
https://www.fisheaters.com/customsseptuagesima2.html
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shrove_Monday
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shrove_Tuesday
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maslenitsa
On Carnival ~
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carnival
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mardi_Gras
The Fight Between Carnival and Lent ~
https://www.thinkingfaith.org/articles/%E2%80%98-fight-between-carnival-and-lent%E2%80%99
On Moonnu Nombu ~
http://newandoldmonks.blogspot.com/2010/01/significance-of-nineveh-nombu-for-us.html
On 'Mob Football' ~
https://sports.yahoo.com/news/shrovetide-%e2%80%93-an-ancient--brutal-and-bloody-game-223015662.html
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Royal_Shrovetide_Football
Southwark Fair (link no longer available) ~
http://www.exploringsouthwark.co.uk/southwark-fair/4593650298
Wonderful, pure delight, thank you x
Thank you your words are a gift and an invitation to awaken anew, less grasping, less fearful and less divided 🌱🪴🌿 BB