religion – don't confuse the narrator

the “p” word

“Ah… the ‘p’ word,” said my friend Claire, yesterday, which seems a good point from which to start today’s blog post. I wonder what that phrase meant to you when you read the title.

Perhaps, because it was juxtaposed with a photo, you thought I meant pears. If so, you probably wondered why they would be unmentionable except by initial. Certainly we weren’t talking about pears or fruit of any kind yesterday. But as I had the photo from a recent walk in the park, it seemed as good a picture as any from which to start.
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sunday afternoon

Looking through some old photos, I came across this:**

Tomb sculpture: Reclining lady and baby.

It seems a fairly appropriate picture to post on a Sunday afternoon, especially with some accompanying quotations. First from Susan Ertz:

Millions long for immortality who do not know what to do with themselves on a rainy Sunday afternoon.

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progress

Hemmed in by mountains,
they built church spires –
antennas to speak to God. Now,
high-rise office blocks and flats
impede the signal.

(The village in the photo has grown enormously since I first visited seven or eight years ago. The pine on the left of the picture kindly obscures the crane perched up on the heights in the north, while the one on the right obscures the modern apartment blocks that remain unfinished to the south east, victims, apparently, of the crisis in the Spanish construction industry.)

religious education?

On a recent visit to Madrid I spotted the Colegio Arzobispal in the photo:

I think it’s fairly obvious that not all the children who study there grow up to be archbishops, but do you have to have studied there to be considered a candidate for such a post?

It clearly is a school, not a theological college, as the yellow traffic sign in the wider view shows:
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