Whoever welcomes a prophet because he is a prophet will receive a prophet’s reward, and whoever welcomes a righteous person because he is righteous will receive a righteous person’s reward  (Mt. 10:41). God must bless Spain for the treatment, affection, attentiveness, and dedication shown to the Vicar of Christ during these days.

I would like to write a few lines at the end of His Holiness Leo XIV’s Apostolic Journey to Spain, trying to share the many impressions that crowd my memory, my retina and my heart, each one more impactful than the last.

I believe that all those who have been part of the indescribable and perfect organization, from the King to the youngest altar boy of the Montserrat Choir School, deserve congratulations. I was already speechless at Montjuïc Stadium, but hearing them at the Sagrada Familia, and seeing them enter, cassock and surplice in hand, in perfect formation, three hours before the ceremony, speaks volumes about the friars who teach them. The state honors, the presence of the Royal Family at all the events, with sublime elegance, composure, and refinement. The presidents of the respective governments. The Cardinals, the Bishops, so numerous at almost every event, so many priests, and a Spanish people as fervent as ever—the papal visits have been a cause for thanksgiving.

I spent Corpus Christi among the four towns, each more beautiful and endearing than the last. I was able to see some delayed footage of the Eucharistic Adoration, the Mass, and the procession in Madrid—that is, what the Pope said about the feast of Corpus Christi not just being nostalgic for the past, but the living presence of Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament blessing our streets. I had heard my father say that almost thirty years ago. I made the sacrifice of not being there shortly after it was confirmed that the Pope would be coming on that date. My place was clear, the distance too; reality prevailed. And I stayed, happy for those who could go, with my parishioners, because Jesus was coming to the town, and the King wasn’t here to accompany him, so we accompanied him.

Going to the Olympic Stadium with the whole family, despite the limited number of tickets, was a gift multiplied by the numerous confessions I was able to hear. Being able to sit, pray, and sing together, meeting the artist who created the Christ figure—a replica of the crucifix from the main altar of the Sagrada Familia—and, finally, having the Holy Father bless my three nephews, the children of Ignacio and Montse, were all wonderful. The fuss that arose over the photo of one of them is a whole other story, one that would make this post too long.

That my brother-in-law Fernando could kiss the ring in the Cathedral, a gesture some parishioners felt was lacking from certain individuals; seeing my nephews praise the Lord at the top of their lungs, singing the Crec en un Déu, which our martyrs sang before being killed by Jesus Christ, that Jesus Christ represented on the central tower that culminates in the Cross; hearing the Pope in Montserrat speak of the harm caused by slander and asking the Virgin of Montserrat to intercede for those who are victims of it, disregarding the much-vaunted “presumption of innocence”; and finally, being able to attend Holy Mass at the Sagrada Familia, a gift I owe, above all, to Father Ignacio Borrull, vicar of San José de Badalona, ​​who got me the ticket and gave me a reference, whom I’ve known since childhood—it’s an endless list that will take me a long time to thank God for, and also to fully grasp. It has been such an intense week that I still haven’t found the right words.

The blessing of the Tower of Jesus Christ, for its significance, its staging, and the sheer beauty of the whole, is a unique and unrepeatable global event. The singing of the Sanctus, prompted by the fact that it is what is placed in the towers, as the little blind girl explained, with that tenderness and spontaneity that makes the Lord say: “The Kingdom of Heaven belongs to such as these.” Anyone who hasn’t seen it must see it, and soon. Quietly, attentively. Allowing oneself to be filled with the technique, all that is possible in this historical moment, but first, as Gaudí said, allowing oneself to be filled with Love.

The testimonies, the Pope’s embraces, his closeness to the children every day. The boy running in Montserrat asking the Pope for the Rosary he used to pray with the Blessed Virgin, in Catalan, yes, of course, because when the abbey was founded, a thousand years ago, I doubt Castilian was spoken there, and perhaps Catalan was. The drums of the Reconquista were still beating. The diatribe over languages ​​has only served to praise the effectiveness of the State’s security forces and to confirm that there are ideologies that affect the psychiatric stability of some, remaining only as an anecdote about thirty choir members who were expelled for not being up to the standard of those who were supposed to sing where Gaudí wanted.

The Petrine ministry, also described in Matthew 16, refers to Isaiah 22:15, where the Prophet says: “I will place on your shoulder the key to the house of David; what he opens no one can shut, and what he shuts no one can open. I will drive him like a peg into a secure place, and he will be a throne of glory for his father’s descendants.” And the Book of Sirach clearly explains how to treat fathers. That is why, when it says, “I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven; whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven,” those fishermen knew what those words meant. That is why praying for him, rejoicing in his joys, praying for his intentions, is an obligation for every Catholic. I find it incredible that there is anyone who didn’t like something this week. (Although I have written many times about those who always find fault.) I have seen ladies from my parish crying, explaining what they experienced from their televisions. But if there is anyone who thinks that he would have done better, or that the Pope should have done something else, or that “he doesn’t like this Pope,” I answer them with my father’s words that, in any case, it is he who should like what we do, not us what he does.

I want to conclude by thanking God because the people of Spain have grown in faith and, above all, in hope. Now, we must put charity into practice, banishing hurtful words, as León urged. This will be a challenge for each of us. I thank the authorities, although I was able to thank some of them personally when I found myself next to the King and Queen after the ceremony at the Sagrada Familia. I greeted the General of the Civil Guard, the highest authority of the corps in Catalonia, and his wife, and then headed for the distant parking lot. It was a walk, but this journey of over a hundred years was worthwhile, to show the world that if Jesus is at the center, ethics, aesthetics, and peace can go hand in hand with beauty. And let us not forget that, as my father, who instilled in us this devotion to Gaudí, even to the point of having a grandson named after him (the youngest), used to say, there WILL BE MUSIC in Heaven. Thanks to the many choirs throughout the Apostolic Visit, to the priests, bishops, volunteers, police officers, firefighters, and military personnel. To the Swiss Guard, journalists, and all those who covered the events.