Procession of Reparation

Temperatures - never more than five degrees Celsius during the day - had fallen to two degrees by the time the small procession left St. Mary Magdalene’s Church, shortly after six this evening.

This was the annual Procession of Reparation in honour of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary. It was led by four men bearing on their shoulders a wooden throne on which sat a statue of the Blessed Virgin, garlanded and surrounded by small lamps. They were followed by about 80 people, led by the Parish Priest, Fr. Ray Blake (whose blog is at  http://marymagdalen.blogspot.co.uk/ ).

Stopping frequently to pray the Rosary, the procession made its way along the quiet and dark Upper North Street, then turned right and entered the brightly-lit Western Road, one of the main shopping streets. Bag-laden evening shoppers paused momentarily to gaze in puzzlement, faces peered down from passing busses, and one or two Starbucks’ customers looked up briefly before resuming their steamy coffees - this is Brighton, quirky, tolerant and ultra-liberal where the unusual is a momentary distraction.

The procession’s destination was the Clock Tower, a landmark structure in the centre of Brighton, built in 1888 to celebrate Queen Victoria’s Golden Jubilee. It is the primary crossroad of the city where roads from the railway station, the seafront, the Steine and the shopping areas converge. Usually busy, it was quite subdued this evening, the chill weather had sent people home early and the few remaining shoppers, tourists and early diners were rushing along with heads down and collars turned up.

The marchers gathered around the statue of Mary and for 15 minutes the centre of Brighton echoed with melodious praise to the Blessed Mother of God, the voices at times drowned by the roar of passing traffic. Then it was all over for another year and the procession broke into chattering groups and dispersed.

Did it make a difference? The witness, praise and prayer seemed almost overwhelmed by the indifference, single-minded consumerism and self-indulgence of onlookers on this chilly winter night. It may be a fancy but the bright full moon above Brighton this evening reminded me of ‘a woman clothed with the sun, and the moon was under her feet, and upon her head a crown of twelve stars.’ I imagine the procession made her very happy.