Unorthodox Cathedral in Spain Rises Brick by Brick

In a dusty town in central Spain, a 64-year-old man in two overcoats and a beret is building a cathedral--single-handedly.

Justo Gallego, a former monk, has toiled for 27 years on his Quixotic enterprise. Rising some 50 feet into the clear blue sky and measuring 165 feet in length, the unfinished structure is as unbelievable as it is awkward.

Gothic and Romanesque arches are built from bricks either scavenged or donated.

The bricks, smeared unevenly with concrete facing, stagger under the weight of rounded turrets. A makeshift roof of corrugated iron keeps out the rain until a planned 33-foot cupola can be finished.

The interior feels anything but sacred. Amid the usual builders’ rubble lies a sofa piled high with rags. A message scrawled in chalk on the walls read: “Any donations to finish this work gratefully accepted.”

Hidden in the back streets of Mejorada del Campo, a quiet rural town, the entire cathedral is being designed and built by Gallego, with occasional help from two local youths.

“I am the happiest man in the world. There’s no other, no competition,” he said, tightening the twine that girds his coats before breaking off for prayer and a lunch of bread and oranges.

He works 12 hours every day except Sunday, eats and drinks sparingly--”water, water, and no meat”--and admits to only one vice, a shallow cup of coffee in the morning.

Forced to leave the priesthood at the age of 37 after a bout of tuberculosis, Gallego decided to follow his vocation in a less orthodox manner.

He sold land he had inherited and without plans, permission or know-how, began a life’s work. What little money Gallego does not spend on the cathedral goes to the poor.

Professing to be “in love” with the monastic life he has chosen, he speaks with passion of penitence and sacrifice, contorting his unshaven, sunbaked face, raising his voice, his small, wiry frame tense.

He pulls off his beret to show an uneven stubble of gray hair. “Yesterday I had a haircut and I cut it myself. Can you believe I live on just 100 pesetas (80 cents) a day? I could have had a Mercedes years ago. . . . “

With no training in architecture, Gallego has relied on raw enthusiasm for the church’s singular design.

“That door is like the White House in America,” he said. “I take ideas from books. I’ve tried to make it a Latin cross with some Romanesque, and the outside like a castle or a fortress.”

His offbeat project has provoked interest far and wide. A Japanese firm has promised an electric organ and a Madrid marchioness gave a gilded wooden altar from her private chapel.

Despite Gallego’s 27 years of dedication, however, the cathedral may never hold a congregation. Mejorada del Campo’s assistant mayor, Francisco Jimenez, said he doubted its safety.

“We have reasonable doubts whether the building will hold out,” he said. “We’ll let him finish it but we might not to be able to let the public in.

“Personally, I find the cathedral very crude. It’s a mixture of Gothic and all possible styles,” Jimenez added.

Surveying the construction from a high gallery beneath one of its rose windows, Gallego assured a visitor it was safe and said church authorities had sent architects to check.

While there is no doubting Gallego’s sincerity, initially some did question the source of his zeal.

“This is not a very religious town and when they saw him living like a monk and working like that they thought he was mad,” explained Father Carlos Peralta, the parish priest.

“I don’t know. . . . Who am I to judge?” asked the priest, who strolls around town in a smart gray suit and carpet slippers.

“But I know he’s the kindest, most respectable and helpful man in the town. What more could you ask? He’s very unorthodox, but very Spanish.”

Nowadays the townsfolk speak of him as a man moved by great faith. “If he finishes it, he’ll go down in the history books,” said one local man.

While the town backs him in principle, it has given little practical help, and when asked whether the Socialist government supported him, Gallego’s voice turned bitter.

“The Socialists are against it because they’re atheists,” he said. “They pretend a little, but if they could they would do more to harm the church. They’re very cunning.”

A few more governments are likely to come and go before the cathedral is finished, but Gallego shows no impatience, enjoying the artistic challenge of his work of faith.

“Modern buildings are like cages,” he said. “We humans have enough sorrow already, but art gives us a little joy.”