To mark the anniversary of the dedication of the Basilica and the centenary of the death of Antoni Gaudí, a prayer with Taizé chants will be held. 

It will be an opportunity to live a time of prayer, silence, welcome and encounter, especially for young people, but open to everyone. 

 

Saturday 7 November at 18h.

You can follow the prayer live here 

 

 

Meditation by Brother Matthew

 

It is a great joy for me to be with you all this evening, together with some of my brothers, in this most beautiful and highly significant Basilica of the Sagrada Família. Thank you to all who have helped organise this time of prayer and the meetings of this morning! I would like to express my gratitude to Cardinal Joan-Josep Omella, archbishop of Barcelona, Abbot Manel Gasch, of Our Lady of Montserrat, Abbess Maria del Mar Albajar of Sant Benet the different Catholic bishops and representatives of other Churches, as well as the civil authorities, who have joined us for prayer.

This is my third time visiting the Basilica. I was ten years old when I first came to Sagrada Família, over fifty years ago, as a tourist with my family as we holidayed in the region. I should add that in a later holiday in Catalonia, I escaped from my family and went on my own to Montserrat. It was the first monastery I had ever entered. The statue of the Virgin and the beauty of the singing touched me immensely. In the north of England, where I grew up, there are many ruined monasteries, which fascinated me. But in Montserrat I met a living monastery.

The second time, I came as a brother to the Sagrada Família, with other brothers of our community, whilst resting nearby. This time, I come as a pilgrim, to pray in this church, nearing completion yet still under construction, a symbol of the Church which journeys towards its completion in Christ, when the light of the resurrection will shine upon us all.

The overwhelming beauty we experience on entering the Sagrada Família invites us to “lift our eyes”. As we raise our eyes and allow our gaze to wander, an unexpected light enters within us, bringing life and hope into the heart of our present darkness.

“Lift your eyes”: this is what Leo XIV repeated on numerous occasions during his recent visit. To contemplate the living creation embodied in the stones of this Basilica. “Lift your eyes” as a challenge to protect creation and all humanity.

We cannot leave this place indifferent after having contemplated and prayed here. We are also contemplating the fruit of human resilience: the resilience of this city and of the Catalan people. Over the decades, through what at times seemed impossible, and despite abandonment, incomprehension and criticism, the people of this city have persevered, inviting us to keep our gaze turned upwards. Today, they reveal to everyone a beauty that endures – a beauty born of human endeavour, yet open and welcoming to all.

A beauty that continues to be built, with stones and with our lives.

The Basilica also teaches us how to bring together an incredible diversity of images and symbols. Their differences are good, rich and beautiful, like the different notes, silences and rhythms that together make possible the symphony accompanying our journey towards God who unites all things in Christ.

In a time when many people, younger or older, are seeking to understand who they are, this aspect of the Basilica can teach us something. Our identity is not simply something we define ourselves through introspection and self-questioning, but something we discover in relationship – with God, with others and with creation.

The Basilica’s form reminds us also of the traditional human towers, the castells, that you love so much, where everyone has a place and everyone is linked. The strong support the weak and the weak support the strong.

Our family history so often reveals a shared heritage with people who came from elsewhere, a parent who came from one country, a great-grandparent from another. We may have a family member living in another part of the world, a neighbour or friend who was born somewhere else. When we look beneath the surface, we discover how these different histories and relationships are interwoven, contributing to who we are. What are the bonds that link us together?

Forging bonds is not just about acting out of kindness or curiosity; it is also about entering into the reality of the other person, understanding their concerns and their daily struggles. Weaving links with their culture, history and interests paves the way for unexpected conversations.

Like the trees of the forest, so present in the architecture of the Basilica, we cannot live without roots. But roots have many forms and are far deeper than the visible part of ourselves. They nourish us when they reach deep and can tap into the groundwater; they hold us firm and allow us to grow, to spread our branches; but they also connect us to histories and relationships beyond those we consciously recognise. Discovering our roots also means discovering how much we have received from others, including those who are different from us.

And in this building, the light penetrates the finely balanced structure where everything seems to hold everything else together. In our first reading (1 John 1:5-7), we heard God is light and in God there is no darkness. The life, death and resurrection of Jesus show us the light that shines in the darkness and the darkness was not able to overcome it. This light illuminates us. Will we let the Risen Jesus open our eyes so that we can look at the world lucidly? Resurrection life does not blind us to reality, but plunges us deeper into it so that we can interpret it in a new light.

In the second reading (Mt 28:16-20) that we have just heard, the Risen Jesus meets his friends on a mountain in Galilee, the place of their roots, where their journey began with him. But he does not let them stay quietly there to continue with their everyday life. He sends them out to bring the good news of God’s love to all creation. And he promises to be with them every day, until the end of the age. How can we communicate that love to those we will meet?

You have received the light from the candles and have passed it on to your neighbour. Ask yourselves, how can I reflect the light I have received, in the place where the Risen Jesus is sending me? Then we will reflect something of the beauty of his presence, the beauty in which we have been immersed this evening.