Barcelona
On intimacy and awe
“We are a forgetful species, obsessed with the succession of tasks that hover over our days, and negligent of the grand celestial drama unfolding around us. And here I am, remembering.” Katherine May, Enchantment
We are in Barcelona on a much needed holiday. Tired and worn down with the daily grind, I need a break, a fresh perspective, a reboot for the soul. On the day we visit the Sagrada Familia, nothing has gone to plan, so we have to skip lunch if we’re going to make it to the cathedral for our allotted time. My husband drags my aching legs and bad attitude along two metro stops and into the queue to have our bags searched before we’re allowed inside.
The outside of the Sagrada Familia is grand and imposing. Its ornate, neo-gothic façade is complex and detailed, with seemingly endless spires spiking up into the ether, topped with elaborate sculptures representing the apostles, the gospel writers, Mary and Jesus. Work began on the cathedral 140 years ago and is still incomplete, so massive cranes tower above it while the building continues. The atmosphere outside the church is lively and bustling, full of tourists stopping to take photos or eat at one of the many fast food chains that line the surrounding streets.
Stepping inside the Sagrada Familia tells a different story. Everything is quiet and calm. The gentle hum of conversation feels kind and respectful. The building itself is infused with inspiration from the natural world. Curves, arches and waves create flowing lines. Wood, stone and glass are cool and smooth to the touch; staircases are spiral, and even the pews are rounded and polished, as though the whole cathedral were opening its arms in welcome. Come in and sit down, it seems to say, this space was designed and created with you in mind. I feel awed by the size and beauty of the building and drawn into its embrace at the same time.
Awe and intimacy feel like markers of this city. Towering apartment blocks that have an imposing grandeur of their own line the streets everywhere you look. It’s impossible not to feel dwarfed by their size and reminded of your own insignificance. If you live here you are one tiny person occupying one tiny apartment, one tiny drop of water in this wide ocean of humanity.
And yet apartment living in Barcelona is also local and specific. The ground floor of every city block is filled with endless small shops: supermarkets, cafes, dry cleaners, florists, shoe shops, banks, nail bars, organic green grocers, pharmacies. You are one person out of hundreds of thousands of people living in the city and yet, I imagine, they recognise you in your local grocery store, know your name in the café below your apartment, remember which day you come in to collect your prescription at the pharmacy on the corner. Being in Barcelona reminded me that something can be vast and unfathomable, and yet intimate and enfolding at the same time.
In my experience, cathedrals in England seem to exist in order to celebrate the past and preserve the social order. Grave markers, plaques and marble statues adorn the walls and floors to tell us who was worthy to be buried in such splendid places. Kings and queens, archbishops and admirals, the noble and the noteworthy, beloved wives and daughters of the great and the good – it is social status and success that earn you a place of rest in the fine cathedrals of this country.
In contrast, only two people are buried in the crypt at the Sagrada Familia: Joseph Bocobella, its original founder, and Antoni Gaudi, its most significant architect. The Sagrada Familia seems designed to embrace the present, and remind us that everyone is welcome in God’s family. Warm light pours in through vibrant stained glass windows coloured every hue of the rainbow, as if to bathe all who enter into this sacred space in acceptance and grace.
As we said a simple prayer and soaked in the atmosphere, I felt in awe of the light and of nature, of the curves and beauty and intelligence reflected in the architecture. I remembered again that there is something beyond just going through the motions of the daily routine. There is something – someone – bigger and wiser than me, someone limitless and unfathomable; someone who knows my name and draws me ever-deeper into an all-embracing love.
Things I’m reading..
If you like reading things here on Substack, I’ve got three more people to recommend to you, as current favourites.
Diana is a public theologian who writes at the intersection of faith, culture and politics. She offers thoughtful, intelligent commentary on our times rooted in sound theology, and often helps me see familiar bible readings in a new light.
I’ve been reading Shawn’s work for a long time now. He takes the stuff of life - trips with his kids, things he’s grieving, things he’s working on - and weaves it into wisdom and magic with his pen. It helps me remember that the stuff of everyday life can be beautiful and meaningful too.
Jeff always describes his essays here as ‘fragmented thoughts’ which is slightly misleading, as his thoughts are coherent and beautifully written. I like his mixture of honesty and hope, which gives me permission to have the same mixture in my own life.