Last weekend saw the first Cursillo in Scotland weekend for almost two years, after a period of reflection leading to a determination to return to the basic ethos of the movement. And Cursillo #59 seems to have been worth the wait, with sixteen participants showing all the signs of having been overwhelmed by the dedication of the team and the love of God. At the Clausura, in Dunblane Cathedral for the first time, they spoke movingly - and in some cases wittily - about their experiences.
They spoke to a good crowd of the Fourth Day - the people who have been on previous weekends - who had braved the snow and sleet to be there to welcome them. This effort on the part of people who are for the most part not in their first youth, is typical of the commitment that puts the weekends on in the first place, for Cursillo is an extremely labour-intensive phenomenon. The amount of stuff that has to be transported, unpacked, set out, removed, inventoried, packed up and taken away again is remarkable - many, many heavy boxes-full. And yes, the people involved in doing the donkey-work can, like anyone else, become tired and scratchy. I was helping with some of it on Sunday, and by the time of the closing Eucharist I felt more like a bath and a lie-down than jolly hymn-singing.
But then the magic happened, just when it should, at the moment of Communion. As I received the chalice from someone I know from her own weekend, and from her service on team when I was Lay Rector, I knew once more the joy that all this service brings and returned to my place with an idiot grin on my face.
Mind, the evening was still spent in dribbling stupor ...
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