Catedral de Sevilla
The last time I stepped into a European cathedral I was about to be a senior in college.
I was in Berlin finishing up a three week European tour of France, Italy, Austria, and Germany with a small classical a cappella choir called the Trevecca Madrigalians. I had the distinct privilege of being a part of this choir for three years and had some of my very first travel experiences while I was a part of it: Chicago, New York, Europe. I was a baby stepping out into the world in wonder.
It was no less magical stepping into the very last cathedral of the tour as it had been stepping into the very first one in Paris. They held in common a grandeur, a sacred quiet, and a quality hard to name that made me feel superimposed upon the thousands of other footsteps who had walked through the giant arches before me. To open my mouth and sing among a talented group of singers in such places was an experience I will never forget for the rest of my days.
That was in May of 2014. It’s now been seven years, starting my teaching career, getting married, a few moves across country, traveling across the US, and a global pandemic between that time and now. Still, European cathedrals continue to hold the incredible power to make a person feel pleasantly small.
I love and crave being placed in front of beauty that I can’t completely understand. To see how God gave artists and architects and builders incredible skills and talents. The kinds of talents that led to the creation of places that make you stop in your tracks and fully absorb the stillness. To wonder.
Stepping into la Catedral de Sevilla, the 112 degree heat of summer in southern Spain and the sticky, sweat-soaked masks on our faces faded into the background. Here was a place that had survived so many phases of history, war, and reconfiguration. The cathedral itself was built in the 15th century, taking the place of the mosque that had once stood there. This cathedral is heralded as the largest Gothic cathedral in the world, one of the largest cathedrals in the world, and an UNESCO World Heritage site.
Before entering the cathedral itself, one can see the differences in architecture from the different ages and cultures on different parts of the cathedral and Giralda tower. This giant tower that was incorporated into the cathedral still stands today, now as a bell tower rather than a minaret. When touring the tower and cathedral, we were assigned a time to arrive in order to tour the tower while remaining safely socially-distanced from the others there.
I was intrigued by the fact that the entire way up was comprised of ramps rather than stairs, which made the whole climb much more enjoyable, as did the frequent arched windows with beautiful views of the church and the city, as well as a pleasant breeze, on the way up.
At the pinnacle were the 24 giant bells of the bell tower, and gorgeous 360 views of the city of Sevilla. From here we could see across the city and even picked out the tower of la Iglesia de San Alberto Magno church that was right outside of our Airbnb. The buildings of the city were beautiful from this perspective, and after being in the middle of the city for a couple of weeks without leaving, it was incredibly refreshing to be above it, looking out over the open air.
After the tower, we explored the cathedral itself. It is full of beauty, as well as curious features, such as what is claimed to be the tomb of Christopher Columbus, or Cristobal Colon, as I’ve learned he is called in Spanish. Adam and I meandered around the cathedral for a long time, admiring the arches, the stained glass, and many of the eighty side chapels therein. Then we exited into the courtyard full of orange trees where we could look up at the cathedral and tower from the shade before leaving the cathedral grounds out the gate.
It was an altogether different experience than the last time I set foot in a cathedral in Europe. There was no singing this time, and I was not part of a group. There was no moment of appreciating the acoustics or worshipping God through songs that filled my heart to bursting. This time it was an experience of quiet stillness, of talking to God in silent wonder, of walking through history beside my husband, and of pondering how this will never get old.