The streets of Rome fell into a reverent hush on Saturday as hundreds of thousands gathered along the route from the Vatican to the Basilica of St Mary Major, lining the cobbled paths in silent tribute to a Pope who had, in life and leadership, sought to bring the Church closer to the people.
Candles flickered in trembling hands, rosaries swung from worn fingers, and tearful prayers rose into the morning sky as the coffin of Pope Francis — simple, unadorned, just as he had wished — was borne towards its final resting place.
In a moving statement, the Vatican said, “This burial, outside the Vatican walls, reflects Pope Francis’s humility and his desire to remain close to the people even in death.”
It was a funeral like no other in modern memory. Breaking with over a century of tradition, Pope Francis had chosen not the Vatican grottos where many of his predecessors lie, but a tomb in the side aisle of the Basilica of St Mary Major, close to the icon of Our Lady ‘Salus Populi Romani’, to whom he had entrusted so much of his ministry.
The final burial rites, conducted in the quiet interior of the Basilica, were deeply solemn and intimate.
The ceremony began with the chanting of four psalms, their haunting melodies echoing off the ancient marble.
This was followed by five intercessions and the chanting of the Our Father, uniting those present in one last prayer alongside the Pope they had loved.
In a poignant moment, representatives from the highest offices of the Holy See — including the Cardinal Camerlengo, Kevin Joseph Farrell, the Prefecture of the Papal Household, the Office of Liturgical Celebrations, and the Liberian Chapter — affixed their official seals to the coffin, a centuries-old tradition sealing the Pope’s earthly journey.
“Pope Francis chose a resting place near the icon of Our Lady ‘Salus Populi Romani’, symbolising his life-long devotion to the Blessed Virgin and his pastoral heart for the people of God,” the Vatican said in a note accompanying the ceremony.
As the coffin was lowered into the tomb between the Pauline and Sforza Chapels, holy water was sprinkled over it, while the Regina Caeli — a hymn celebrating the resurrection — filled the Basilica, lifting hearts even in sorrow.
The final formality came with the reading of the act certifying the burial, solemnly read by the notary of the Liberian Chapter, then signed by the Cardinal Camerlengo, the Regent of the Papal Household, Monsignor Leonardo Sapienza, and the Master of Pontifical Liturgical Celebrations, Archbishop Diego Ravelli.
For many watching outside and around the world, it was the final note in a lifetime symphony of compassion, humility, and courageous leadership.
“Pope Francis leaves us a legacy not of grandeur, but of the Gospel lived simply and faithfully,” the Vatican’s official reflection said after the ceremony.
As the great bronze doors of the Basilica swung closed, a profound silence fell once again over Rome. In that stillness, perhaps, there was the truest tribute to a man who had taught the world to listen — to God, to the poor, and to one another.
The burial of Pope Francis closes a papacy that had challenged conventions, championed the marginalised, and redefined what it means to lead the Catholic Church in the modern age.
Yet even in death, Pope Francis remained who he had always been: a pastor first, walking humbly among his people, even into eternity.