A community bereaved

Patricia called after breakfast this morning, shocked to have just learned that Lew died early this morning. Another member of the congregation had gone to visit him in hospital around nine, only to learn what had happened, and then spread the sad news by WhatsApp. As he had a funeral plan in place, arrangements for cremation are already taking shape, with Tuesday morning in mind. 

Sunday last, Lew led the intercessions at the San Pedro Eucharist, sitting in his place rather than at the lectern. His strength was failing even then, as witnessed by his voice, less deep and resonant than usual. When I heard yesterday that pneumonia was supected, my first thought was the saying I learned in childhood without knowing just what it meant "The pensioner's friend." He's been around on the Costa del Sol for forty years, and very much an Elder of the ex-pat community, so his funeral will be well attended, short notice notwithstanding.

After several days of fruitless hunting, I accidentally came across the chaplaincy's wedding registers, not in the file box marked 'Weddings', but in a 'Pending' file tray. This was such a relief and just in time. After a light lunch, I double checked my kit for the wedding and set off for Sotogrande at half past one. Without any problems I retraced the route taken and memorised earlier in the week and arrived thirty five minutes later, which gave me a good amount of time to arrange and check all things necessary for the celebration. Despite the heat, all went well and we started at ten past three.

We had a duet of violinists playing chosen pieces of classical music during the service. They were loud in a church with resonant acoustics, more than I expected. They seemed not to be used to accompanying congregational hymns or expecting congregational singing to be introduced. I didn't get a chance to brief them as they were busy rehearsing until the wedding couple arrived. I wondered if they had been briefed and wish now that I had. At the end of the service Widor's Toccata was played as a recessional on a powerful piece of hi-fi kit, too loud and too fast - to be endured rather than enjoyed. Quite a good way to drive the congregation out of the building.

Once I'd put furniture back where I found it, and gathered up my possessions to leave, the florists were arriving to bedeck the church for the next wedding at five. By five, I was back at the house receiving a call from Thea about Lew. She'd been to visit him last night, and was distressed by his distress, certain that he was dying wanting her to stay. They talked again by phone at midnight, after she reached home, and he was calm again, at peace with himself. Learning of his death came as a shock, as she thought he was over the worst. And in a sense, he was, his fears faced in the company of a Christian friend, able to let go and be taken from this world. 

I was much moved by what Thea told me. It's not the first time I've heard stories like this. People look out for each other here and care for each other in a natural way. You can't really train for this kind of lay ministry, it's a pastoral gift from the Spirit to those who keep the faith together and love each other. I've stopped worrying about the future of the church with declining numbers of clergy. Somehow that will sort itself out in the period of agonising change endured nowadays. Baptized members of the body of Christ will continue to exercise pastoral ministries among themselves, sometimes without realising they are doing so. But they still need to be told how the Good News is working itself out through their self effacing efforts.

After supper as the sun was setting I walked along the beach. For the first time in the 'charco' at the mouth of the rio Guadolbón, I saw half a dozen turtles and some fish. I've seen them in similar settings in Fuengirola, Málaga, Mojácar and Costa Azahar over the years. It's wonderful the waters aren't so polluted with agricultural products that they no longer sustain life. Perhaps it's something to do with the mountainous terrain that produces these rivers.

I completed my Sunday sermon and printed it off a couple of days ago, but in the light of Lew's death I thought I could make a few changes with out making it much longer, so I've weaved a brief tribute into a sermon about the Lord's Prayer.