"As we move into June, the Suffolk landscape gives its best. The hedgerows become heavy with blossom, the daylight lingers long into the evening, and there is a sense of expansion across our fields and coasts. In the church calendar, this month brings us the feast of a woman who is woven into the very fabric of East Anglian history: St Etheldreda.

Etheldreda was a figure of immense status—a queen of the Northumbrians and a princess of the East Angles. By the standards of her day (and perhaps our own), she had reached the pinnacle of success. She possessed land, wealth, and the kind of security most could only dream of. But her story is defined not by what she acquired, but by what she gave away.

She famously walked away from the trappings of power to found a community in the marshes of Ely. Etheldreda traded a crown of gold for a life of shared purpose. She didn't seek to build a wall around her privilege; she sought to build a space where the rhythm of life was dictated by care, prayer, and the needs of the collective.

There is something deeply moving about this choice in our current age. We are often told that the measure of a good life is found in individual wealth—that our security depends on how much we can keep for ourselves and our own. We are encouraged to see the world through a lens of scarcity, fearing that if a neighbour receives support, there is somehow less left for us.

Etheldreda’s life offers a different perspective. It suggests that true freedom isn't found in the independence of wealth, but in the "interdependence" of a healthy community. It whispers that we are at our best when we ensure that the foundations of a dignified life—shelter, health, and a sense of belonging—are extended to everyone, regardless of their starting point.

When we look across Suffolk today, from the bustling towns to the quietest villages, we see the same fundamental questions being asked. How do we build a future that is as wide as our horizons? How do we move past the fear of "the other" and embrace a vision of society where no one is left to struggle in the shadows?

Following the example of this ancient saint doesn't require us to retreat to a monastery. It simply asks us to reconsider what we value. It invites us to believe that God’s grace is a boundless resource, intended to be mirrored in our own generosity toward one another.

This June, as we enjoy the warmth of the sun (hopefully!), perhaps we can reflect on the "sovereignty of sharing." Maybe we can consider how our local and national choices might look if we prioritised the common good over the individual gain. In a world that often feels divided, the story of a queen who chose community over a throne remains a radical, hopeful, and deeply necessary light."

The Rev'd Fr Benjamin Edwards

Vicar of Great Barton & Thurston