We were very fortunate recently to be in the south of Spain for Semana Santa (Holy Week) - a tradition which is proudly and lovingly kept in Andalucia lasting the full week, with processions of Tronos (floats) carried by up to 250 men and preceded and followed by brass bands and Nazerenos (members of the fraternity) on foot. Each day depicted the different events that historically occured on the days preceeding Easter Sunday. It was a very moving experience, and the Spanish personality being what it is, there was an unabashed exuberance underlying it all. There were three or four processions daily, going on into the night, with the streets packed with old and young alike, paying their respects in their own way. There was a spontanaity about it all, especially with the singing of the Saeta, and it was by the people for the people. The background to this page depicts one of the Tronos we saw on Viernes Santo (Good Friday) where the tableau, made of life-size statues, shows Our Lord being very gently and tenderly taken down from the Cross.
The poems below and on the next page, Piedad, were inspired by these scenes, and we hope that you will find some meaning in them too.















Ever thought that since our lord
Died upon the cross to save us all
That there's no need to bow our heads in shame
And keep this ongoing pain?


For was not his act on that dark day
But sufficient to redeem us all
And change our ways,
In answer to his loving call?


And by the prolonging of this pain
We're but forgetting his eternal aim
Which is to return us to our rightful place
By his side and in full grace.


For did he not want for us to be his children
And be above all suspicion
Living as we were meant to do
As in the garden of long ago?


That's not to say we should not recall
This wondrous gift he gave us all,
And make this life of ours a fitting place
In memory of his loving grace.


So by removing this state of blindness,
We would be repaying his eternal kindness,
And enjoying a life of love and gladness,
As befitting us and our noble lord.


For then, and only then,
Would it have all been worthy of his pain
That sacrifice he made for you and me
Upon that cross on calvary.
by LizzyTish©





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