Inside Budapest’s amazing St. Stephen’s Basilica (Photos)

Stepping into St. Stephen’s Basilica in Hungary, my family and I were immediately surprised. “It's purple!” one of my young daughters exclaimed excitedly. And while she may be overstating things a little bit, the colors are stunning. Dark purple marble columns combined with gold ornamentation create a dynamic space that is a bit startling in its beauty. (View the PHOTO GALLERY at the end of this article for a look inside.)

As I joined other visitors on Easter Sunday the first time we visited, I was struck by how St. Stephen’s reflects important aspects of its host nation. Specifically, the saints portrayed and relics displayed are almost all uniquely Hungarian. But in a broader sense, the basilica seemed to draw from influences elsewhere in Europe and yet still be very distinctive. After spending two months in Budapest as a family, this was one huge takeaway -- that even though it is close to Western Europe and is adjacent to many Central European countries, Hungary is singular in many ways.

The basilica is named after St. Stephen, who was not only a saint but the first King of Hungary (c. 975–1038). The first devout Christian in his family, St. Stephen not only succeeded in his effort to unite the Carpathian Basin, but also established monasteries and an organizational structure for the Church in Hungary, encouraging the faith to flourish.

The basilica has a relic of St. Stephen that is hard to ignore or forget -- his right hand is enshrined in a glass case in front of a side altar. A sign explains that the relic had traveled extensively (including stays in Croatia and Austria) before finding its permanent home in Budapest.

Six hundred and fifty years after St. Stephen’s death, after the Hapsburgs wrested control of Hungary from the Turks, plans for the basilica were begun. The history of its construction was full of drama. When builders finally began their work in 1851 in the neo-classical style, the dome collapsed, and they had to redo much of the construction. Around the time that the Austro-Hungarian Empire was established politically in 1867, construction continued on this jewel of Budapest with a new architect. He adopted a neo-Renaissance style. After 54 years of total construction and the influence of yet another architect, the basilica was finally completed in 1905.

As one gazes around St. Stephen’s Basilica, it is clear why construction took so long. With the exception of St. Peter’s in Rome, no other church has made such an immediate impact on me. The gilded altar and the angels above seem to sing aloud of the glories of God. The dome’s art reemphasizes this theme, with angels circling God the Father in Heaven in the center.

In a space filled with statues and art largely depicting Hungarian saints such as St. Elizabeth, it seems like the entire nation is being called to join in praise of the Almighty when the majestic organ begins to play.

St. Stephen’s Basilica stood witness to the tumultuous, and at times devastating, history of Hungary in the 20th century. Following World War I, Hungary lost two thirds of its territory. Then Hungary was occupied by the Nazis during World War II and Budapest was bombed by the Allies. The basilica, which sheltered refugees during the War, sustained damage from the bombs.

At the end of World War II, Hungary was immediately handed over to the Soviets. Their suppression of monasteries and persecution of the Church is well documented. What a celebration it must have been, then, when St. Pope John Paul II visited the basilica shortly after the fall of Communism.

Today, St. Stephen’s stands in the middle of a busy, thriving metropolis. Located in front of piazza, it is a center of humanity for both Hungarians and tourists. People sit on the broad steps in front, enjoying the sun and resting from their travels. People stand looking up at the basilica while eating uniquely rose-shaped gelato (highly recommended by my family). Everyone, Catholic or not, seems to stop for a moment when the bells of the basilica ring.

As with many major churches in Europe, the visitors to the basilica are today a mix of churchgoers and tourists. Being charged money to enter a church can be a hard pill to swallow -- but it is also clear that a basilica of this magnitude must be costly to maintain. Of course, one can enter for free to attend Mass, as I had the opportunity to do several times. Easter Mass was so packed that my family couldn’t even see the altar, let alone find seats! However, we saw that as a definite sign of a healthy community of faith and, thus, a good problem to have.

On a Sunday in Ordinary Time, the basilica offers five Masses, including one in English. When my family attended, it was clear that the basilica was a spiritual home to many cultures. There was a largely African choir singing hauntingly beautiful melodies, to name just one striking example. As in many places in Europe, Hungary has seen a drastic decrease in the number of practicing Catholics, yet St. Stephen’s Basilica and other religious sites (such as St. Matthias Church in Budapest and several prominent abbeys in the country) are signs of hope and of the deep rootedness of the faith in the nation.

It is commonly said that Hungarian is one of the most difficult languages to learn, because it is so different from almost any other language (it is neither Slavic nor Germanic nor Romantic). That seems to me a strong parallel to St. Stephen’s Basilica itself: an architectural masterpiece that is unique and that continues to bear witness to the wonder of the Catholic faith in Hungary.

To look "Inside Budapest's amazing St. Stephen's Basilica," view the PHOTO GALLERY below.