When Adriana and her group of friends got off the metro at Alonso Martínez, there was still an hour and a half left before the Corpus Christi mass, officiated this Sunday by Pope Leo XIV, began. Everyone had the corresponding QR codes on their phones to enter their assigned sector. But instead of watching the service from the central lane of Paseo de la Castellana, they had to resort to the television broadcast: “We couldn’t get in because they told us the capacity was full,” she protested.
At 10:04 in the morning, the Police closed all access points to Paseo de la Castellana from the east and west, having reached the maximum anticipated occupancy. Like this group of young people, dozens of people of all ages gathered at the police cordon that prevented their passage, frustrated by their location in the antechamber of the mass.
The placement, Adriana points out, was not trivial: “It sounded terrible because the speakers are positioned to be heard in the sectors, and where we were, the sound bounced off the buildings.”
In addition to the acoustics, Robert Prevost‘s Yankee accent in Spanish created some difficulty for these more distant faithful to understand. “He was in Peru, but he still doesn’t speak perfect Spanish, and between the sound and the accent, it was sometimes hard to understand him,” the young woman noted.
The white T-shirt with the orange stripe worn by the volunteers was the next milestone in demanding access. Many pointed out that the capacity of the sectors was precisely calculated, even though the number of people registered for the mass did not even reach 700,000 on Saturday night. “The same thing happened at the vigil; it’s a great pity because some people are left outside without being able to see the screens, but we can’t do anything,” explained Teresa, from sector W9, near Cibeles Square.
The immediate solution for some attendees was to resort to their phones. But coverage came and went, as often happens at large crowded events, so they could only hear disconnected parts of the mass. When it came time for communion, they didn’t hesitate; they “rebelled” against the police: “When we saw we could, we bypassed the control and went straight to the priests,” the young woman celebrated.
Other parishioners quickly gave up on the screens and sound. It was enough to intuit the Pontiff’s words. This was the case for Estéfano (28 years old) and his grandmother Rocío (83), who were somewhat removed from the central area, under the shade of one of the tents set up for volunteers. “I am religious in my own way, less traditional, but it’s my grandmother who moves the faith in the family,” the grandson noted.
This family of Ecuadorian origin has been living in Madrid for over twenty years, although a few years ago they moved their home to Toledo where “there is more space” and the housing situation “is less complicated than in the capital.” When they found out the Pope was coming to their country, they didn’t hesitate. “I’ve been Catholic since I was born and I will be until I die,” asserts Rocío, for whom the memory of Pope Francis still “beats.” Leo XIV, however, is gaining ground: “I am very old now and I won’t get to see another Pope. We have been preparing for this great day for a long time because it is a historic event, and I thank him for coming to bring us hope,” she said emotionally.
