Corpus Christi in Nerja

Another dull humid start to the day. though later in the morning the sky cleared and the temperature rose to the low twenties, but it was still humid. I arrived early at church. A group of local parishioners were busy setting up an altar of welcome under the trees in the Plaza de Andalucia in front of the church, ready for this evening when the Corpus Christi procession arrives from Iglesia San Salvador. Once the church was clear of worshippers, I went in and stated preparing for the service I was about to take. I didn't find it easy to preach this morning as the church doors were kept open throughout our service, as is the custom. The background chatter of people working hard to create an outdoor sanctuary was mildly distracting, and I wondered if the same was true for the nineteen of us inside trying to listen.

After a non-alcoholic beer at Bar Atalaya, I headed back to Church House and cooked the last remaining fillet of panga from the freezer, with steamed veg for lunch. Fortunately as it's so slim, it doesn't take as long to defrost as denser fish or meat would. I had some report writing to do, and that get myself back to Nerja for the evening Mass and Corpus Christi procession at six. I parked in the 'dust bowl', and on my way to Plaza San Salvador called in the open all hours Chinese tech' gadget shop and bought a USB flash drive to use to archive the content of the chaplaincy laptop in a form anyone can access if they bring with them a faster laptop than the one available.

The church bells rang at half past five as I was arriving there. A group was rehearsing the music for Mass and practicing with the accompanying slide show of hymns and liturgical texts displayed on TV screens attached to the pillars of the nave. No more hymn books! I can't say I was enamoured by the music or simple chorussy songs chosen. Not much content, and musically dull. By the time the service started the place was about half full and filled up completely by the time the Gospel was read. 

The three parish clergy concelebrated the Eucharist, and lay people did the rest. An appeal was made for Caritas, the Catholic social service organisation and a collection taken. A couple of dozen youngsters made their first Communions, the boys in sailor suits, the girls in white dresses. Altogether, there was a congregation of about four hundred. The town band played for the procession with the Sacrament after Mass, making a station for Benediction opposite the church at a spot overlooking Playa Calahonda, then made its way through the streets to Iglesia San Miguel, for another Mass to close the fiesta. Tiredness began to overtake me, so I didn't follow the procession all the way, and returned to Church House for supper, and a walk up the hill as the sun was setting and it was slightly cooler. Definitely feeling my age at the moment, so another attempt at an early night beckons.

Blackcurrant jam on Corpus Christi

I woke up early and posted my Corpus Christi Morning Prayer link to WhatsApp  before 'Thought for the Day'.. It's a day that happily reminds me of occasions in Spain when I've witnessed or been part of a street procession with the \blessed Sacrament over the years; in Sta Pola, Nerja and Malaga.  

In the news, Lord Guite Boris Johnson's ethics advisor, has resigned, finally prompted by a request from the Prime Minister to give an opinion on modifying the existing ministerial code of conduct in a way that would neutralise its value. In the eyes of many Boris has done more than enough to flout the code of conduct regarding his own and his ministers' behaviour. Enough is enough for Lord Guite, but will Boris submit to calls for his resignation now? I don't suppose so. He's so self centred, seeing himself exclusively as able to steer the country through this time of change. It's creeping dictatorship, and high time the Tories got rid of him. New Boris scandals keep hitting the headlines, He's become as much of a contentious issue as his policies. Tory credibility sinks further towards un-electabiliy. As the late great Bob Marley once sang:  'Whosoever diggeth a pit; shall bury in it.'

I went to St John's this morning for the Corpus Christi Eucharist along with eight others. Again I wasn't in the rota to do this, but th rota seems to have unravelled a bit in recent weeks, with Fr Colin still recovering from covid, and Frances away, so I was ready to celebrate if needed. Clare had already started cooking when I arrived home, so I went into the garden and harvested a pound of blackcurrants from our small bush. It was just enough to make five small pots of delicious jam. I really know it's summer when the aroma of stewing blackcurrants is in the air. It reminds me of life as a child back home. Dad had several bushes yielding several more pounds of fruit for jam and/or crumble for pudding, and I used to pick them. It's still one of my all time favourite fruits.

After lunch I wrote next Thursday's reflection, ready for recording, then succumbed to sleep for an hour as I didn't sleep so well last night or the night before. Before supper I walked for an hour and a half, and saw the last episode of the season's 'Springwatch' programmes, and another documentary on Bradford's social problems and the people who del with them - PCSOs and the Council's homelessness team. 

It showed the industrial scale farming of illegal cannabis in derelict mill buildings and spoke about people trafficked and locked into a mill with rudimentary bedroom, kitchen and toilet facilities once the vast indoor greenhouses were set up, each at a cost of tens of thousands in equipment. West Yorkshire Police have found and destroyed over a thousand cannabis farms in the past year, we were told. It's a multi million pound business, tax free, completely outside the law. Legalising cannabis, one PCSO said, would change everything for the better. But what British government would be willing to do that?

Not yet Corpus Christi

Apart from shopping and cooking, I spent much time reading through news articles learning about events in the aftermath of the Grenfell Tower fire in London. The compassionate response of many people to the plight of survivors has been remarkable, likewise the differing responses of political leaders, now being scrutinised carefully, while they try to figure out what to do for the best. I still cannot fathom why a composite building material was permitted with flammable components. 

The finger has already been pointed at a hydrocarbon based material melting and catching fire. It may be 51 years since I graduated in Chemistry, but I recall that the aluminium used in the skin of the composite is also combustible if it reaches a high enough temperature, so it doesn't just buckle, but burns at around its melting point, 2200C. In the context of a fire in vertical cladding, updraughts of air speeding the spread of the fire might push temperatures higher than expected, and make it just about impossible to halt. 

But, there are so many interlocking factors which combined perversely to produce this catastrophe. Failures in regulatory oversight, housing policy, cost saving measures due to spending cuts, all providing a backdrop of circumstances vulnerable to precipitate a crisis from what might have started as a relatively minor incident or accident. Now everyone is left wondering where else might be equally vulnerable, what is going to be done about it and how soon. Added to uncertainty coming from the election outcome and the imminent start of brexit negotiations, which process seems to be losing public support and credibility, these are troubling times for Britain..

Daytime temperatures here are starting to climb now, so I am grateful the apartment doesn't heat up, standing, as it does, in the shade for much of the day. I went for a walk in the hours before sunset, through the old town, and called in to the local parish church of St Gabriel in time for the evening Mass, and today is Corpus Christi. In fact, I was early enough to be present with 30-40 others for half an hour of devotion before the Blessed Sacrament exposed. To my surprise, the Mass following was that of the day in Ordinary Time, not the Solemnity of Corpus Christi, which I think is deferred until the weekend. Certainly, Malaga Cathedral's procession is Sunday evening, and there's another on Saturday too, in honour of Los Dos Santos Martires, Patrons of the city. A far cry from British soul searching at this time. But this is a city which has known war, and destructive earthquakes over the centuries. Their fiestas defy the darkness in life with joy and dignity.