If there is one thing intricately woven into the fabric of our lives, it is the fine art of putting up with delays. After generations of practise, we have elevated waiting into something of a cultural skill. Trains and buses run late; meetings rarely begin at the scheduled hour; people stand patiently in the sweltering heat to hear their leaders speak at a promised time that almost always arrives fashionably late. When you request a service and the response is “half an hour” or “immediately”, it is generally wise to interpret those words as broad philosophical concepts rather than precise measurements of time. It might make sense to add another 48 hours to that estimate.
Delays have undoubtedly transformed many otherwise reasonable mortals into raging volcanoes. Yet, somewhere in the secret chambers of our hearts, we have all quietly accepted that life is, as they say, like that only.
Then there are the delays so monumental, that they can astonish even the most seasoned procrastinators among us. Yesterday, on June 10, 2026, Pope Leo XIV celebrated a special Mass to inaugurate a church in Barcelona, Spain. What is so extraordinary about that, you may ask? Hold your breath. Construction on the church began in 1882. That is not a typographical error. The project remained a work in progress for an astonishing 144 years.
The church, the Sagrada Familia, was initially entrusted to architect Francisco de Paula del Villar in 1882. Less than a year later, the project passed into the hands of the 30-year-old Spanish architect Antoni Gaudí, who reimagined the entire structure. Already a respected architect, Antoni drew immense inspiration from nature. He envisioned a cathedral resembling a forest, with columns branching like trees. Impressed by his vision, the parish signed up for what was expected to be a ten-year project.
The years, however, had other ideas.
As time passed, the cathedral became Antoni’s life’s work. Forty-four years after construction began, he was struck by a tram and died at the age of 73. He was laid to rest in the church’s crypt with barely a quarter of the project completed. Matters worsened when the Spanish Civil War led to the destruction of many of his drawings and models. Construction stalled for years before resuming in the 1950s, with engineers relying on surviving fragments and their memory. The workers cannot still pack up their tools, as interior work is expected to continue for a few more years.
History, however, offers even grander examples. Wars, political upheavals and financial troubles often stretched ambitious projects across centuries. The Milan Cathedral took nearly 600 years to complete. Construction began in 1386, and the final details were not finished until 1965. The Cologne Cathedral took 632 years. Started in 1248, work stopped in 1473, leaving the unfinished structure standing idle for over three centuries before construction resumed and finally concluded in 1880.
The centuries invested in these monuments are a testament to human perseverance and extraordinary craftsmanship. Not every delay is a lesson in poor time management. Some become enduring symbols of faith, vision and the remarkable ability of humanity to continue building long after the original builders are gone.
