CHRISTMAS TO LENT
THE feast of Christmas continues until Twelfth-night, though in many parts of the country people spoke of "the twenty days of Christmas." At any rate, those twenty days were full of celebrations of one kind or another. A popular tag summed up the ordinary person's feelings at this time:
"Blessed be Saint Stephen,
There's no fast upon his even!"
Between Christmas and Candlemas there seems to have been only one somber day. This, curiously enough, was "Childermas,"-- Innocents' day. It is true that the boy bishop might be leading his troop through the streets, but all the same this was everywhere considered a day of ill-omen. No one would dream of marrying on Childermas, nor of buying nor wearing new clothes, nor, indeed, of beginning any new undertaking. The coronation of Edward IV was even postponed so as to avoid Childermas. Nor could this be considered a cheerful day for the children themselves: "...it hath been a custom, and yet is elsewhere, to whip the children upon Innocents' day, that the memory of Herod's murder of the Innocents might stick the closer; and in a moderate proportion to act over the crueltie in kind...."
Still, apart from this, feast days followed on each other's heels--St. Stephen's; the Circumcision (called "Singene'en") in Scotland, because it was celebrated by much caroling and when, according to popular belief, even the bees could be heard singing in their hives); Saint Agnes' day, when girls prayed to get husbands, and at whose Mass it was once the custom to bring a lamb into the church at the Agnus Dei of the Mass; a custom still obtaining now on Easter Sunday in some parts of the world; Twelfth-night, the festival of the kings; Candlemas--our Lady's churching-day, when again one sees how great a part is played in the celebrating of feasts by lights, lanterns, candles and fires; St. Valentine's day, the feast of lovers, one which has survived in a corrupted form practically to our own day.
Rejoicing gathered itself for a last fling on Collop Monday, when all the meat and bacon that might not be eaten in Lent were finished off. On the egg feast, the Saturday before Shrove Tuesday, eggs were similarly treated. On Shrove Tuesday itself further Lent-forbidden foods were eaten, and on this day the pancake bell rang early in the morning as a signal for the first frying and again at night, after which second bell no more pancakes were eaten, and the bell called people to confession, to be shriven before the fast of Lent should start.
NEW YEAR'S EVE
In the fruit-growing counties of England "apple-howling" was regularly observed. Boys went from orchard to orchard, surrounding the trees, singing to the accompaniment of a pipe:--
"Stand fast, root, bear well, top,
Pray God send us a good howling crop;
Every twig, apple big,
Every bough, apple enow."
Then they shouted in chorus, and rapped the trees with their sticks. This, again, was probably a pagan rite that the Church took over and turned into the blessing of fruit trees, since popular belief lingered persistently that the wind of New Year's-eve was responsible for the fruitfulness of orchards, and that an east wind meant much fruit. The Church has many prayers for every sort of crop, and there seems no reason why people with a garden and fruit trees or fruit bushes of any kind should not ask on this last day of the year for a good crop. Here is the Church's prayer for the fruits of the earth, which could be said:
"Pour down Thy blessing, we beseech Thee, O Lord, upon Thy people, and on all the fruits of the earth, that when collected they may be mercifully distributed to the honor and glory of Thy Holy Name."
CIRCUMCISION: NEW YEAR'S DAY
This was the day of the giving of gifts, husbands to wives, masters to servants, parishioners to their priests. Moreover, it was a day to go visiting. "On the first day of this month will be given more gifts than will be kindly received or gratefully rewarded. Children, to their inexpressible joy, will be drest in their best bibs and aprons, and may be seen handed along streets, some bearing Kentish pippins, others oranges stuck with cloves, in order to crave a blessing of their godfathers and godmothers." It is pleasant to think that the day of Christ's naming should be the occasion of honoring godparents; and it would be easy enough in any family with small children to invite the godparents to some celebration, or in the case of grown-ups, to visit or to write to those who have been their sponsors. Godparents undertake a considerable responsibility at the font, so what could be more appropriate than some sort of acknowledgment of it on this day?
TWELFTH DAY, EPIPHANY
In Staffordshire, fires were lighted on this day "in memory of the blazing star that conducted the three magi to the manger in Bethlehem." In Irish homes there was the same insistence on light. In a sieve of oats, surrounded by twelve burning candles, a single large candle was lighted. But generally speaking, all the festivities of the day were based on the idea of kingship and bent on honoring the three kings, so that lots were drawn to determine who should be the king for the day. Here was one way of marking the day. An Epiphany cake was made, traditionally of flour, honey, pepper and ginger, and a halfpenny put in it. When it was baked it was cut into as many pieces as there were members of the family, while portions were also assigned to our Lord, to Mary and to the three Magi. These were given to strangers, preferably to people in need. Whoever found the halfpenny in his piece of cake was saluted as king, placed in a chair of honor, and three times raised up to the ceiling, on which with his right hand he drew a cross. A carol was sung and the king ruled the party that followed. An Epiphany party might easily become a feature of this day in any Catholic youth club or school or family. After a brief re-telling of the story of the Wise Men, those arranging the party could follow the custom of having in the cake three beans, each of which will represent a king. On their being chosen, the three kings rule the party, which should end with a carol-singing procession and the giving away to someone in need of some food which had been held back for this purpose.
This is one of the oldest feasts of our Lady, and in Rome in the 7th century it ranked next to the Assumption. Everyone received a candle, which had been blessed at Mass, and afterwards walked in procession with it. The procession recalled the journey of Mary and Joseph to the temple, the burning candles, Simeon's words that the child in his arms was a "light for the revelation of the gentiles." And how appropriate is this symbolic burning candle! "A candle is made of wick and wax; so was Christ's soul hid within the manhood; also the fire betokeneth the Godhead; also it betokeneth our Lady's motherhood and maidenhood, lighted with the fire of love."
If anything still remained of the Christmas candle, or the Christmas block, it was lighted on this day. Now-a-days, one could light up the Christmas candle and these smaller candles whenever the family are together, or at meal-times, or let them burn before a statue of our Lady. This day was called the "Wives' feast," and "our Lady's-churching," and it is in memory of this that even today women carry a candle at their churching, even though of course theirs is a ceremony of thanksgiving, and Mary's was that of ritual purification.
This day was a general holiday, particularly for apprentices, and it would have been strange if it had not frequently become a day into which people tried to cram all the pleasure they would soon have to forego.
In Norwich, as probably in other cities, processions were made to symbolize the rapid approach of Lent. In 1440, say the Norwich records, such a procession was instigated by a certain John Gladman, who was known "as a man ever trewe and feythfilll to God." Crowned as king of Christmas, his horse bedecked with gilt and every sort of finery and tinsel he was preceded in the procession by twelve other horsemen, each representing a month of the year and each dressed appropriately. Last in the procession, following after the glittering king of Christmas, came Lent, a horseman dressed from head to foot in white cloth and herring skins, mounted on a horse with trappings of oyster shells--and this "in token that sadnesse shulde folowe, and a holy tyme." Thus they rode through Norwich, and many others of the townspeople joined in, dressed in every sort of fantastic dress, all of them "making myrth, disportes and playes." That they ate pancakes everywhere is merely because eggs and butter and milk had to be finished off before the fasting began, and the making of pancakes, the beating of the batter, the frying and tossing of the pancakes, could be a festive affair.
There seems no reason why one should not have a party on Shrove Tuesday. Few people have the faintest idea why pancakes are eaten, so these could be made and the reason for them explained. Now, when butter and eggs and milk are all allowed in Lent one might let the party include a last ceremonial tasting of whatever those taking part intend to give up during these forty days--sweets, sugar, cigarettes, whatever it may be. In Kent, it was once the custom to make two effigies on Shrove Tuesday, and to burn them to ashes as a sign that good living was now over and done with and that a stricter time was at hand, and at a Shrove-tide party there could be a short explanation of Lent, while it might very well end up with the whole group going to confession.
~ A Candle is Lighted, Imprimatur 1945 ~