When I heard the drumming begin, I swallowed the last of my café con leche and, leaving my partner and his daughters at the sidewalk café table, dashed off toward the throbbing beat. The festivities had begun!

We were in the town of Mataró, a twenty-minute train ride from Barcelona. My partner’s oldest daughter had been there a few weeks, leading groups of English students in conversational instruction. She was being hosted by a colleague who lived in this town that every July celebrates Les Santes, a festival honoring Saints Juliana and Semproniana. A parade through the streets, beginning outside of the town hall, was the culmination of a week’s worth of events.

The drummers started off, followed quickly by an effigy of a bull, that quintessential symbol of the Iberian Peninsula. Only this bull had horns that were filled with fiery sparklers and, once lit, rushed the crowd! Onlookers screamed, ducked and ran out of the bull’s way. As my partner and the kids joined me along the parade route, here came a fire-breathing dragon, similarly rigged with sparklers and firecrackers though thankfully this monster kept his distance from the crowds. Dozens of youth, decked in red, black and white demon capes, with demonic faces appliquéd into their horned hoods followed, again with firecrackers and explosives, stirring up delighted chaos in the crowds. Out of town hall came what our host described as the Big Giants, royal effigies two stories high dressed in Renaissance costume. These seemed to be Mataró’s patron saints, followed by the town’s founder, whose royal decree brought the town into existence. They were followed by the Little Giants, costumed mascots of figures from the town’s illustrious history, including traders, merchants, and the founder of Spain’s first railway, which ran between Mataró and the city of Barcelona. There were horse-riding princes and princesses, more drummers, acrobats who stopped periodically to create a human tower, and finally, a marching band who, as they brought up the rear, broke into a cheerful rendition of “When the Saints Go Marching In.”

The townspeople followed behind as the festive parade made its way through the streets and around to a central square, all decked with the colors and flags of Mataró and Catalonia.

Here is a town where the genius loci are literally brought out from town hall where they live and paraded through the streets with great excitement. I am used to speaking rather abstractly about the spirit of a place, so to see a community celebrate its location by a parade of its transcendent patrons and attendant archetypal figures was refreshing. The numinous spirits of the places where I am at home are rarely acknowledged and celebrated, never personified quite so frankly.

Every locale has its distinctive story and history, its legendary personages, its own climate and geography, and often, its unique architectural style, folk celebrations and customs. Certain plants and animals thrive in particular bioregions, whose interactions with human culture produce local arts and crafts, local foods. When we have been in a place long enough, the presence of our social network is woven into this cultural tapestry, adding textural richness to our experience of our place. The figure or figures that symbolize our place are expressions of this collective, though not monolithic, identity.

Churches and other organizations, too, have collective personalities, a rich weave of history, culture, geography, memories, theologies and individual personalities. If we were to have a parade (minus the explosives, please!) honoring First Parish in Lexington, what would be its elements? Who are the big giants, the little giants? How might we personify the spirit of this place?

As I begin my ministry among you, I look forward to being introduced to the genius loci of this place, to becoming familiar with the legends, the saints, the memories and yes, the dragons, of this particular place.