I was ready to visit Gaudí’s famous chapel on our last day in Barcelona. I figured a modern Gothic landmark would be a nice capstone to our trip. But I’ve always been influenced by photos of the exterior and the design seemed too busy in an ornamental way. And when we approached the building, the dull brown terra cotta stone didn’t suggest an interior that would be filled with light.
But it was.
The dizzying vaulted space was filled with light.
Towering columns framed bright stained glass windows high above the floor. There was an uplift to the air. It was stunning.
To the east, the immense expanse of wall suggested dawn spreading green light through a narrow pattern of stained glass.
To the west, through a gigantic pillared forest of pale stone, the wall’s stained glass was a sunset of warm colors.
Other than a crucified Christ levitating above the altar adding an otherworldly element to the vastness, there was an elimination of Biblical storytelling that I found particularly moving.
It was an architectural design worshiping nature at is most sublime.
Our tickets included a visit to the Nativity Tower, so I took an elevator that stopped halfway up and then climbed the tight circular staircase to the top.
There were views, of course, but I missed the expansive sanctity of the effulgent church.
There was no elevator down the tower.
I felt like I was spinning inside a nautilus to meet my spiritual end.
But, no, I emerged on the outside steps where humanity looked up at the spires in awe.