A day of sanctity and sanity

Thom and I spent the morning visiting the Sagrada Familia Basilica after having successfully printed off online tickets to avoid the queueing.  The metro train was almost deserted as we travelled from Glories to Sagrad Familia via Clot on the extensive underground system.  We arrived about fifteen minutes before our entrance time (11 a.m.) and we queued for about ten minutes before entering the basilica. What a wonderful and awe inspiring piece of architecture with tree like pillars soaring to an immense height.  It reminded me of both the Anglican and Catholic cathedrals in Liverpool as well as a touch of the extensive mosques in Istanbul.   Despite the enormous crowds wanting to get into the building, its vastness seems to swamp them.  Today is a public holiday in Spain (All Souls Day) and as a major religious festival meant that mass was being said hourly in the crypt.  Thom and I watched from above as the host was distributed below.  I sat for several minutes in the middle of the nave and felt a great sense of the need to pray - which I did; feeling much better afterwards.  Following our traumatic couple of days, I felt an inner peace restored to me. I was determined that we should return with the whole family this evening to celebrate mass together.  There was some reluctance at this suggestion from the children but eventually they agreed to come along.  We arrived in good time and looked around the crypt before taking our seats and reading the lessons in English from a sheet - John, Revelation and Matthew - no Old Testament reading.  An elderly priest conducted the service in either Spanish or Catalan - it was heard for my untrained ear to distinguish, but for the introduction and the peace he spoke in several languages including English.  The liturgical sequence was the same (or almost the same) as for our Anglican Eucharists.  Sara and I took the host and at first both Mary and Thom stayed behind but Thom followed on later feeling he really wanted to do so.  I had prayed for this and felt the Holy Spirit moving in that service.  How strange that this is not always the case in a service in my own church in my own language.  Something for me to reflect upon and perhaps include in an essay. After mass we returned to the hotel and then went out for a proper Spanish meal in a restaurant in the street adjacent to our hotel - two types of paella, steak for Thom and spaghetti (well not exactly Spanish ) for Mary!  We also had pan et tomate and Cantalan sausage selection for starters.  This evening we played cards and drank Cava before going to bed.  A thoroughly enjoyable day.  We all feel that we want to return to Barcelona some day but with a more cautious approach to the crime here.