Yesterday, I spent most of the day relaxing indoors, avoiding the sun and writing a couple of reports I needed to get done. I even made a start on next Sunday's sermon. Strange how some days my mind seems to be active and productive, when the heat makes me want to slow right down and do little.
It was gone six when I made myself go out for a walk around the port, and was compensated for the effort by the Transmediterraneo ferry 'Sorolla' from Melilla entering port and executing the precise manoeuvre in tight spaces which it turns it round to present its stern to the quay for docking and the unloading of vehicles and passengers. It's the first time I've watched any big vessel enter port and doing this. Annoyingly, I walked out without my camera, but a few snapshots would not have done it justice. A video or time-lapse would be better.
Today was the same, although I was reading rather than writing most of the time. I'm tackling a big paperback by expert Dead Sea Scrolls scholar Robert Eisenmann on James the brother of Jesus. It's material I've entirely missed out on, presenting a forensic literary analysis of biblical and other ancient near Eastern texts from that era, as well as the Scrolls, demonstrating the relationship between them and his subject material. It's an attempt to reconstruct the story of the first century Jerusalem church when it was led by James the Elder, writer of the New Testament Epistle.
It's very detailed reading, with complex arguments based, it seems to me as much on what is unsaid, or removed from a text, or changed, as much as what is actually stated. It's a literary method that to my mind resembles that of a criminal profiler, looking for patterns to interpret. I have a long way to go with this book. The worst thing is its physical size and weight. It's heavier than my Chromebook and not pleasant to hold for a long period of time. I won't be taking it home, but leaving it here, and seeing if I can borrow a copy to read when I return.
Today is however, St James' Day - the other St James, one of the twelve Apostles. When I ventured out around six, I walked through the tunnel to the nearby barrio de Santiago, to see if there was any festive activity at the church. Sure enough, the place was open, and preparations were being made for the singing of Latin Vespers of the Feast by a Gregorian choir, with Mass to follow. I sat in the church, meditated, and enjoyed the quiet hustle and bustle of the place during the hour I had to wait.
There were eight choir-men, one accompanied on keyboard another conducted. All wore black shirt and trousers. Each wore a minimal scapular with a symbol on the front of it, to denote their role. It's too hot for any fuller form of vesture. Six clergy concelebrated the Mass which followed. The one who presided at Vespers also presided at Mass, exchanging his red cope for a chasuble. The MC and altar servers were all adults, and not in any kind of liturgical vesture.
We were treated to a homily, which I mostly understood. The president spoke of the importance of Santiago de Compostella in the hispanic soul, of pilgrimage, simplification of life, fellowship, solidarity and peace. About a hundred people were seated on the pews in the nave, and another sixty on chairs either side of the sanctuary, and another forty odd scattered around the aisles or standing at the back. Two hundred people, of all ages, on a weeknight evening.
It was impressive, and uplifting, especially when it came to singing the Missa de Angelis, which many worshippers know enough of to join in with the choir, and best of all the paschaltide 'Alleluia', which everyone seems to know and joined in with. I could just about recite the Lord's Prayer in Latin for Vespers, but still haven't managed in in Spanish. I'm also stuck on reciting the Apostles Creed in either language. This seems to be used more than the Nicene Creed these days at Masses I have attended. Apart from being conveniently shorter, I wonder if there's a reason for this.
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