The Secret Cardinal

17

The funeral mass for Pope Leo XIV was celebrated six days after his death on a beautiful October day in Saint Peter’s Square. Donoher stood on the basilica steps studying the nearly half a million people who filled Bernini’s piazza and overflowed down the length of Via della Conciliazione, through the Borgo District, to the banks of the Tiber. The streets surrounding the Vatican were packed with millions more as the Church drew together during this time of grief. And around the world, billions watched or listened to what was the largest funeral in history.

The Pope’s body lay inside a simple coffin made of cypress, the sole ornament an inlaid cross and the letter M near the bottom of the lid, the design taken from the pontiff’s personal coat of arms. During the processional, the pallbearers — twelve tuxedo-clad papal gentlemen — had slowly borne the coffin out of the basilica on a red litter. They carried it past the wooden altar and set it in the center of an ornate rectangular rug laid atop the stones of the square. A tall paschal candle stood beside the coffin, and atop the wooden lid lay a red leather-bound book containing the four Gospel accounts of the life and teachings of Jesus Christ.

Three long rows of prelates clad in red vestments framed the sides of a rectangular space that contained the altar and the coffin, and behind these sat more than two hundred world leaders in a sea of funeral black. A choir dressed in white closed the back of the space, with the front open to the square. With a gathering so large that no building could contain it, the people themselves became the architecture, the true body of the Church.

During a private ceremony before the funeral, the Pope’s body was placed inside the coffin. Archbishop Sikora then drew a veil of white silk over Leo’s face, and Donoher blessed the body with holy water. At the Pope’s side, Donoher placed a red velvet bag containing samples of the coins minted during his long reign.

As Cardinal Scheuermann read a Latin eulogy of the Pope’s many accomplishments, Donoher reflected on the last item he placed in the coffin — a brass cylinder containing a vellum scroll of that same eulogy penned by a master calligrapher. The scroll was a work of art in itself but more so for the deeds it represented. The Church in the late twentieth century faced many difficult challenges, but it was Pope Leo’s clear vision and steadfast faith that had helped change the world for the better.

If pride was a sin, Donoher would permit himself this indulgence. He was proud of all the Church had accomplished during the reign of Pope Leo XIV, and of his role in those deeds now committed to history.

He did not feel sorrow as the sun warmed his face while he stood on the basilica steps, overlooked by a procession of statues of the saints. He felt joy. The long suffering of his friend and mentor was over, and the wonderful soul that was the essence of that great man had at last received its blessed release and was now with God. For a man of faith, there could be no greater triumph than this.

As the voices of the pontifical choir filled the piazza with the closing hymn, the cardinals followed the Pope’s coffin back into the basilica, the procession passing through the great bronze doors in the center of its facade — masterworks by Il Filarete depicting Christ, the Virgin Mary, and the martyrdoms of Saints Peter and Paul.

The cardinals moved solemnly up through the nave and filled the space beneath the great dome, surrounding the confessio and the baldacchino. The pallbearers paused in front of the great pier where Bernini’s statue of the mythical Saint Longinus stood bearing the spear that pierced the side of Christ, then descended the stairway into the grotto beneath the basilica. There, the sampietrini affixed red bands to the coffin lid with both papal and Vatican seals. The coffin was placed in a second made of zinc and a third of walnut that bore Leo’s name and his coat of arms.

A humble priest, Pope Leo decided early in his pontificate to forgo the traditional papal interment in an ornate marble sarcophagus, wishing instead to be buried in the earth.

‘Lord, grant him eternal rest,’ Donoher called out at the conclusion of the rite, his booming voice echoing inside the subterranean chamber, ‘and may perpetual light shine upon him.’

As those gathered in the grotto sang ‘Salve Regina,’ Donoher stared down into the Pope’s grave and thought of another holy man in a dark hole, half a world away.