Two sides

On Saturday I went to both the Prado and Reina Sofia museums in Madrid. I'd never seen Picasso's Guernica, and since I'm most fascinated by the history of the Spanish Civil War (1936-1939), the Reina Sofia had enough art from that era to keep me busy. In the Prado I got to explore new sections of Goya and El Greco paintings. Oh, to live in Spain!

But before I got to the art museums, I collided with another side of Spain: climbing out of Atocha train station, I faced tons of people wearing red, waving political flags and yelling grievances into bullhorns. It was was one of the biggest protest days, my roommate explained later. News of austerity measures and threat of economic collapse came into sharp focus. People from as far away as Andalusia came by tour bus and blocked several main streets for hours.

I saw yet another side of Spain later that evening, when I was walking toward the cathedral in Alcalá. All the bells in the tower were ringing, and as people drew near some local dignitaries poured out of the entrance. An honor guard dressed in velvet (in this heat!) stood at attention and played La Marcha Real, the national anthem. The onlookers went nuts when they finished! That's when I caught sight of the reason for the spectacle: some gentlemen of Alcalá were carrying La Virgen on a gigantic silver float that had mounds of white lilies on it. La Virgen itself was quite tiny - only about two feet tall - but the float even had a little steering wheel in the back. People stood around in various degrees of indifference and religious devotion as it passed. I started tearing up as I witnessed some of the older people paying tribute to this statue. How I hope someone tells them they can have a relationship with the God who loves them so much - and praying to a little lace statue won't accomplish that. On another note, I do wish we would honor Christ with the intensity as some of those Spaniards honored La Virgen.

This morning I went to the evangelical church in Alcalá and got to see some friends from four years ago. It's on the bigger side than I've seen (About 30 today, not including kids), and the metaphor of the light shining in the darkness struck me as this church worshipped amidst the shuttered nightclubs and "drinking dens" (rather sleazy unregistered bars) that crowd around it.

Tonight is my last night in Spain, and I have a lot to think about. In a few hours I'll hop a plane back to the States and face the next phase. Please pray for wisdom and grace. Pray for Spain.