Spotted Sacrifices

What a lot of church there has been this Easter Day. All the services had similar gates to last year, though there were fewer communicants at the main 10am mass, with lots of infrequent attenders (including one family making what I think is their first visit in about seven years) who received blessings at the altar rail instead. We sang the Regina Coeli, blessed two new icons, and Roy the verger rang the bell 93 times for the Supreme Governor's birthday. I'd thought he would do it as we were finishing the service, but to my surprise we all stood and listened. It took quite a long time.

Months ago we managed to dent the old Victorian silver flagon we use for communion. It was sent for repair to the jewellers, and though we received it back in great excitement we quickly discovered it leaked. The jewellers were most apologetic and had another go. The leaky joint is now repaired, but for a couple of weeks there have been mysterious spits and spots of wine appearing on corporals, and at the Dawn Mass this morning the linens looked as though they'd been used to staunch a wound: it seems there's something wrong higher up the flagon, so that when it's full an upper joint is now leaking. Jill our sacristan sadly bundled up the soiled altarcloth she'd only put on the altar the day before, and arranged for Gordon, the head server, to collect her tall glass ewer as a stopgap later on in the morning. 

It was the glass ewer I used to prepare the table at the 10am service. The last chalice was filled when a drop of wine, just one tiny drop, fell from its lip in what seemed to be slow-motion until it spattered onto the pristine linen of the nave altarcloth. Jill wasn't there. I waited until the church was empty and took it away to launder in penance.