Snippet
Creed
Easter
Time
3 min read

Don’t rush the creme eggs

As Lent approaches, mark each season for what it is.

Iona is a PhD candidate at the University of Aberdeen, studying how we can understand truth. 

A giant creme egg lies smashed on the ground beside a tilted market barrow.
Creme Egg publicity stunt, 2012.
The Grocer.

Christmas before last, we ran out of milk on Boxing Day. An emergency of epic proportions that had to be remedied immediately with a trip to ASDA. Stepping out of the howling wind into the sanctuary of the entrance of ASDA, shaking my hood out of my face, I saw them. My stomach sank, dread rose, I heard my blood rushing in my ears… the Creme Eggs were back.  

This may be a slightly exaggerated account. But there really were cream eggs at that ASDA. On Boxing Day. Now, I don’t want to launch into ‘back in the day…’ wailing or a bemoaning of the ignorant capitalist machine (that’s an article for another day…). But that moment really did give me pause.  

Why does it matter? Well, I suppose in the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t. It mattered only because of what it represented to me: a rushing onwards, an inability to properly acknowledge and celebrate the seasons, a restlessness.  

I have long found this (ever increasing) tendency to rush from one season to the next unhelpful and difficult to deal with. Every year, I am labelled the token grinch for refusing to join in the ‘Christmas cheer’ before December. I have, at times, leaned into that moniker. But it’s not actually true. I do like Christmas. All 12 days of it. None of which are in November, let alone October! (we’re getting dangerously close to rant-territory now.)  

I love the anticipation of Advent. I find the slow blossoming of Spring every year one of the most joyful experiences we in temperate climes are lucky enough to witness. I enjoy the slowing down, the preparation of Autumn. I take comfort in the opportunity Winter gives for taking a break, for taking stock, re-evaluating, laying old things to rest. I find days like Ash Wednesday and All Saint’s Day so helpful and important. I don’t want to rush past Lent to Easter and chocolate.  

I did not grow up in a liturgical tradition. So, when I joined a Church of Scotland a few years ago that marked these days and seasons, I felt like I had finally found a frame for my wandering. 

Marking each season for what it is, appreciating its gifts, being present in the moment, not rushing ahead (or lagging behind) is so valuable. It gives me a ground, a certain foundation when everything else feels like it’s spinning, faster and faster. The news never stops, social media races past me and before I know it it’s time for pumpkin spice lattes, hot cross buns, Wham!ageddon, and Halloween, all at once. But Christmas is always on the 25th of December. Easter is always preceded by Lent and followed by Pentecost. Going through the year with these way-markers helps me to keep both feet on the ground and my gaze on the path ahead.  

I’m not particularly invested in how exactly each season is marked. Whether it is cream eggs, or pumpkin spice, the first crocus, or the celebration of a saint’s feast, we all find different things helpful and attractive. What I do think is important is to recognise and mark the seasons.  

I read a lot of headlines and posts at the start of the year that talked about how to beat the ‘overwhelm’ of modern daily life. I don’t pretend to know the answer or have a cure-all. I do think that one thing that can help is to step out of the consumerism-driven, ever-rushing, ever-increasing race through the seasons that never lets us stop for a minute to rest and reflect on the moment we are in right now.  

So whether you want to mark Lent in a more traditional way, by giving something up, maybe attending an Ash Wednesday service, reflecting on life and death, or by perhaps buying yourself a bouquet of daffodils. I encourage you to mark this season in some way. Before rushing on to the Creme Eggs. 

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Article
Christmas culture
Creed
Education
3 min read

Shining bright: Religious Education can reflect the heart of Christmas

A new curriculum proposal offers hope for a subject long left in the shadows

Kathryn is the chief executive of Culham St Gabriel's, an education charity

A classroom display of Christmas baubles under a banner.
The Butterfly Teacher

The Christmas season will soon be upon us, and Christians around the world prepare to celebrate the birth of Jesus. The lives of those believers, and many of their neighbours, are filled with nativity plays, Christingle services, advent calendars and carol singing. The festival that celebrates Jesus, the baby who is born in a manger and welcomed by lowly shepherds, also heralds his later life. One in which he lifts the marginalised, brings divine justice and shines light into a dark, fragmented world.  

This shining vision of justice and light cannot be confined to nativity scenes or carol services. It shapes how Christians see the world, including education.  

In England, Religious Education (RE) is in urgent need of reform. The recent Curriculum and Assessment Review (CAR) recommendation that the subject goes into a new national curriculum through a staged process, offers a rare opportunity to restore RE to its rightful place for the benefit of every child. This will finally shine a light on this often-neglected subject. 

Where darkness falls 

Today, many pupils experience RE as fragmented, inconsistent, and undervalued. Some receive profound, in-depth teaching — getting more than a glimpse of the vision. Others receive none. Some encounter diverse religious and non-religious worldviews; others are taught narrow or outdated content. This disparity is not just an educational failure; it is a moral one. 

At Christmas, Christians remember that Jesus came not for the powerful, but for the poor, the outsider, and the forgotten. Following Him means ensuring that every child — regardless of background or postcode — has access to high quality RE that reflects the complexity and richness of religion and belief in our global world. 

Four dark shadows 

There are four key areas of inequity: 

  • Position: RE is often marginalised in schools as it is not in the national curriculum. 

  • Provision: time and resources vary dramatically. 

  • Standards: there is no consistent national benchmark. 

  • Content: pupils struggle to see themselves and others reflected in the curriculum. 

These issues disproportionately affect the most vulnerable - those in underfunded schools or transient communities. Christians are called to stand up for those who are overlooked. The Christmas story itself is a call to justice. Mary’s Song speaks of Jesus lifting the humble, whilst Zechariah’s prophecy highlights Jesus shining light on those in darkness and guiding people to a path of peace. Social justice is at the heart of the gospel message. 

Lighting a way forward 

The CAR recommendation that RE should be included in a new National Curriculum is a light amidst the darkness; it views the subject through a social justice lens. The proposed approach to establish consensus within the religious education community lights up a path for the subject going forward. Building on the National Content Standard for RE in England (2023) it offers a framework rooted in fairness, coherence, and depth. It would ensure: 

  • Parity of position: RE is valued alongside other subjects. 

  • Equity of provision: all pupils receive meaningful religious education 

  • Consistency of standards: expectations are clear and fair across all schools. 

  • Richness of content: pupils explore diverse, lived experiences of religious and non-religious worldviews. 

This is not just about curriculum design. It is about enabling young people: to become free thinking; to become critical participants of public discourse in unsettled times; to make academically informed, compassionate and respectful judgements about matters of religion and belief. It is about nurturing wisdom, encouraging young people to flourish, and bringing light to dark places. 

Shining in the darkness 

Christmas is a season of hope and light. It is also about challenge. It is a reminder that God intervenes to restore and renew, and Christians are called to do the same. The recent recommendation to government is, I believe, a once is a life-time opportunity for everyone to come together for the common good; to shape an RE curriculum for all where every child is seen, heard, and valued. 

As we sing of peace on earth and goodwill to all, let us work to ensure that our education system upholds justice and serves everyone, whether we are a Christian or not. This Christmas, may we commit ourselves to a vision of education that reflects the heart of God: one of equity, dignity, and love. Surely it is time for the RE light to shine in every classroom across our country. 

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