Passion watched

A bright and warm day from the start. It will be hot for those carrying tronas of the passion today, all over Andalucia, if our weather is anything to go by. I had several more things to prepare for this afternoon's liturgy after breakfast. Then went out to watch the House Martins insect hunting in the meadow opposite the house. They fly so fast and close to the ground for much of the time that they're difficult to take photos of without a great deal of luck., so I wasn't all that successful. The meadow, however is flourishing now with a variety of native flowers and grasses and wood sorrell flowers aren't dominant now, or suppressed.

I went down to St Andrews an hour and a half early to make sure everything was in order, found the cross for the act of veneration, but couldn't find the service sheets, but that we because they'd been moved to a more accessible place. I thought all my material was prepared, but then realised that I'd forgotten to print the amended passion Gospel text, so I had to hurry back to the house, make a print out and get back down to church within the hour. I made it with twenty minutes to spare thankfully. There were just fourteen of us for the liturgy. When I got back from church I found Clare had cooked a stir fry with prawns to eat after the service, around about tea time.

When I did Good Friday in Malaga five years ago there were half that number, as people simply couldn't get to church for the crowds. Nine years ago at St Andrew's we did a full Three Hours and number varied between 18 and 12, so averagely the same, no worse. I guess travel is difficult for those wanting to come to St Andrew's if they use public transport, given the crowds travelling into the city to watch the processions.

We're never in control of numbers. Many more people know when services are and where the church is, but the rest of life's activities can get in the way of an extra commitment to worship, whether on a weekday or a weekend. Something remarkable goes on in Spain during Semana Santa, involving so many people in devotional and social activities. It nurtures social cohesion and solidarity long before it feeds the economy. Yet even here, recruiting hombres de trono and cofradia members is getting harder, and if I have understood this aright, cofradias are linking up to perform traditional duties they have in common. Just like declining parishes being joined.

I found out that unlike traditional Spanish supermarkets the Aldi store is open today, despite it being a bank holiday, so I walked over the hill, to get a few more bottles of wine, to save having to do this tomorrow when the family arrive. If there's anything else forgotten and remembered overnight, I can get it when I go down to the station to meet Kath, Anto and Rhiannon in the morning.

I cooked scrambled eggs for Clare's supper, and we ate listening to 'The Archers' on catch-up. The rest of the evening was spent watching the evening processions, with their tronos depicting step by step each moment after the death of Jesus to his burial. The memory of standing in the silent crowd watching this stage of proceedings back in 2018 is still very vivid. Sadly, I don't have the energy or willingness to trust my ankle to make the journey and stand in the crowd as I did back then. I'm so glad I did it.

As for my ankle, I've booked a osteo-myology appointment with Kay for a week Monday. Her hands on diagnostic will help me decide what if anything more can be done to improve stability.

Jesus el Rico

A rare cool and cloudy day in springtime Costa del Sol. After breakfast Clare did some baking, while I worked on an Easter Week biblical reflection and recorded it. I cooked a couple of big panga fillets for lunch, with basmati rice and an experimental stew of aubergines and carrots with onion. Surprisingly, it turned out better than I thought. Then while Clare had a siesta, I set to work on an Easter Sunday sermon, my last preparatory task of my final week here. Good to get this done before the children arrive, on Friday and Saturday.

In the afternoon we walked down the Paseo Maritime, and did some grocery shopping at the Mercadona on the way back up the hill, stocking up ready for a family weekend. Di rang and sang Happy Birthday to me a week early. Either she heard it incorrectly from someone else, or everyone else has got it wrong. I may find out tomorrow at the coffee morning!

After supper, I watched telly for a while, then tuned in to the Malaga Semana Santa YoouTube live feed. It led to a couple of surprising discoveries about a cofradia based in the Calle Victoria. Its trono of Jesus carrying his cross is unusual in having an arm which moves in a way that makes the sign of the cross. The whole thing weighs 3,600kg, just under three tons, and is carried by 220 men. It's the cofradia of 'Jesus el Rico y Maria Santisima del Amor' He who alone is rich enough to pay the price of the sins of humanity in the devotional language of the church. 

Apparently it's a municipal tradition here in Holy Week for a prisoner to be released, as Barabbas was released instead of Jesus. The decision is made a few days beforehand. This year the man to be released is nearing the end of a three year sentence for drug trafficking, and on early release with a leg tag, having learned a trade while incarcerated, so a safer bet than a leal life Barabbas. A nice touch anyway, and occasion when imitating an element of biblical story literally makes a difference to someone's life.

Candle shopping in Málaga

We all got up early enough to have breakfast and make sure there was no rushing around to be done before Ann and I left for the airport train. We caught the ten twenty and it was packed all the way, and made extra congested with the number of electric scooters as well as baby buggies and aircraft bound suitcases. We were in the terminal and saying farewell by five past eleven, giving her more than enough time to make her way through a distant departure gate. 

I continued my journey to Málaga Alameda on the next train and walked up Calle Dos Aceras skirting the old town walls to the Liturgical supply tienda 'Nazaret', run I believe by a community of Sisters. I was here to buy a couple of baptismal candles, and two Paschal candles, one for St Andrew's and the other for the chapel in Alhaurin, as it's become a tradition there for Anglicans to supply one. 

The conversation was entirely in Spanish, and it wasn't difficult to make myself understood. I looked at various sizes, and found a really tall one for Alhaurin was too heavy to handle, especially as I had carry two back. I settled for ones that were sized 70 and 60cm tall. Girth is a problem when nobody seems to have made a note of the exact dimensions of the candle holders involved. The Sister who dealt with me was surprised to find I'd come on foot by public transport and kindly improvised handles from masking tape to enable me to carry one in each hand. 

The cost was nearly a hundred and forty euros. I guess there's been a price hike in the cost of candles too, as they're mostly made of paraffin wax, an oil based commodity. Pure beeswax large candle prices would in any case be astronomical these days. It's good there are church people who will recycle the wax from old candles into product for sale a church fairs.

I suppose the combined weight of the candles was no more than a couple of bags of groceries, but their length meant the arms had to be slightly flexed to carry them without touching the ground. An exercise in concentration on the walk back to Alameda. Fortunately the streets were not as crowded as the train turned out to be in both direction, so the job was done without mishap and the candles deposited in the church office, before going up the hill to Casa del la Esperanza, where Clare had lunch ready, perfectly timed, to welcome me back.

Concerned to ensure Ann got off in time I forgot to take extra money to pay for the candles. Fortunately my Post Office money card had enough to cover the first hundred euros, and I covered the remainder en effectivo. Very pleased to have negotiated this entirely in Spanish without becoming tongue tied when I realised my omission.

After lunch I needed a rest, then I worked on homilies for Wednesday and Good Friday for a couple of hours while Clare went out for a walk. I made supper, and  spent the evening watching live processions on the Málaga TV YouTube channel. In one video vignette, the Cofradia de Los Estudiantes was to be seen and heard singing 'Gaudeamus Igitur' a student drinking song known in international academia, said to date from the thirteenth century, celebrating the joys of life and the inevitability of death. I remember hearing it sung on the street here by this cofradia in Semana Santa 2018. 

Co-incidentally the place where this was being broadcasted from was in the processional recorrido nicknamed 'La Tribunal de los Pobres'. I passed by there this morning, as it's at the junction between the road running up the bank of the rio Guadalmina and Calle dos Aceras, where the church shop is located. Parts of Málaga's old town have become as familiar to me as my native Cardiff.

I've noticed that when some of the processions visit the Cathedral the exit of the trona de la Virgen after the prayers of dedication is preceded by a mediaeval anthem in her honour, sung by on of the choirs of the region. Just as with the many bands used in the processions, it's a busy time for musicians, whether they play for love or for money.

It's several days late appearing on Llandaff diocesan website, but today I've been able to download the new quarterly intercessions list. Unfortunately it's still full of errors, not at all a good advertisement for the diocesan communications team. There's simply no information available about who the editor is, to make contact and offer them updates and corrections.