Liturgical improvisation at Alhaurin el Grande

As this was my first visit to take a service, I arrived at Alhaurin el Grande cemetery chapel for this morning's Eucharist three quarters of an hour early, just a few minutes before Joan, the 'custos' opened up and started her preparations. It was quite cool, about 11C, but the sky was bright and clear. The sun comes up above the sierra de Mijas a couple of hours after it has risen down on the coast, and in the shade of the mountain without a warm breeze, the overnight temperature is maintained for longer. When the congregation turned up most were wearing pullovers, or jackets, but still remarking on the chill in the air, even though November has been unseasonably warm.

Today is the feast of Christ the King, or Stir up Sunday as we used to call it from the old Collect for the day, which is now relegated to being the post-Communion Collect. The Gospel speaks of Christ reigning over all things in loving compassion from the cross. But, the one strange thing about Alhaurin cemetery chapel is that it lacks a prominent crucifix or cross. It has a fine Greek icon of Pentecost and two others of Archangels Michael and Gabriel on the north aisle wall. In a niche behind the altar there is a statue of the Immaculata (Mary without Jesus), decked with artificial flowers. It can be concealed by means of a sliding wooden door in the case of secular funerals, but the only cross available for anyone wanting to use one liturgically was a crucifix hanging in the vestry.

I decided it would be more appropriate on this occasion to have a cross in view, than the statue of Mary, so I took the sacristy crucifix and attempted to prop it as vertically as possible up against the closed wooden door. This wasn't easy, since the cross was fashioned tree-like from rounded branches as beams - fine for holding on Good Friday, when you say "Behold the wood of the Cross ....", but not so easy if you want to stand it up - it stood precariously and threatened to slide and crash with the slightest vibration.

I hunted high and low for something to use to stabilise it. A spare plastic bottle cap for the foot, and then  a tiny blob of Blu-Tac scavenged from the rear window of the Chaplain's car, where it holds up a faded notice advertising the Anglican presence in Spain. This did the job nicely, providing adhesion for the top tip of the cross to the wooden door. Just enough to keep it in place, except for a huge gust of wind or an earth tremor. It was large enough to be visible throughout the building, and that made it easier for me to explain why I had shut Mary's image away on this occasion.

There were 26 of us present, and the average age of this group was  ten to fifteen years younger than the coastal congregations, possibly reflecting the influx of a new generation of settlers for work rather than retirement. After the service, I re-arranged the furnishings in order to leave it as I found it, then joined the third of the congregation that went to a nearby café on the main street for a drink and a chat before winding my way home downhill for lunch, and the rest of the day free to relax and enjoy.