During a trip to Spain, I had the opportunity to visit Antoni Gaudí’s magnificent masterpiece, the Sagrada Família. There, I was also reunited with a dear friend I had met more than 15 years earlier, Maria Chiara, who served as my guide. As I contemplated the beauty of the shapes and colors inside the nave, I thought of the group of teenagers in my parish in Budapest and said to her, “How I wish I could show this beauty to the kids I work with!” Maria Chiara replied immediately, “Why not? I’ll help you!”
In Budapest, I am the pastor of a church in the center of the city, St. Francis of Assisi. There, I regularly meet with a group of about 20 young people between the ages of 14 and 18. Upon my return, during Saturday dinner, I tell them about the idea of organizing a pilgrimage to Barcelona to visit the Sagrada Família. A burst of joy and amazement erupts: many have never been abroad, and some have never flown on a plane. The idea electrifies them. The cost of the trip, however, is a bitter pill to swallow. It’s too much money to ask for at home; the families they come from aren’t that well-off. What to do? I suggest they set a reasonable amount to ask their parents for: they’ll have to earn the rest by taking on certain duties. The adults in the parish community are very willing to help: some elderly people ask for help with house cleaning, some mothers hire them as tutors for their children, or suggest that the young people accompany younger children to school in exchange for a small fee. A few months pass, but the amount raised is still less than what we need. I propose organizing a charity event, featuring the stories of various Hungarians who, throughout history, have served God and brought honor to their homeland on Spanish soil. The storytelling will be accompanied by musical performances. We’re also preparing admission tickets, which will be sold in the church after Sunday Mass. A few mothers have volunteered to bake Hungarian and Spanish pastries for the evening. The owner of a well-known pastry shop across from the church, having heard about our project, has offered two trays of pastries for the evening and a generous financial contribution.
“How is it possible that so many people who don’t even know us are helping us?”
The community rallies around the group of young people who suddenly, to their pleasant surprise, realize the loving care that people are showing them. They experience what it means to be part of something greater than their small group. “How is it possible that so many people who don’t even know us are helping us?” they ask. “Perhaps they don’t know your names,” I reply, “but they know that you belong to this community. We are one body in Christ, and the members of the community are happy to support your pilgrimage to Barcelona.” We carefully prepare the evening, which unfolds with songs, stories, and tastings of delicacies. The hoped-for result arrives, and finally the goal is reached—we can set off!
In Barcelona, we receive permission to celebrate Mass in the crypt of the Sagrada Família, where we offer up all our personal intentions and those entrusted to us by the entire community. Then Maria Chiara guides us in discovering the symbolic meanings of what has been called “a hymn to God carved in stone.” As we stand in the nave, enveloped by the light the sun casts through the stained-glass windows, I look at the young people. In silence, with open mouths, they gaze at the beauty I had so longed to show them. I pray that, through what their eyes behold, Beauty may touch their hearts and stir a desire to become builders of it, like Gaudí, so that through our lives we may convey God’s love to those we meet.
