Pope Francis is Dead

It’s now Sunday 27 April, 2025. Kia ora!

“Who am I to judge?”

Last night we watched the BBC version of the Pope’s funeral.  It was very moving, but less hushedly reverential than American versions. How impressive it was!  The coffin was a plain wooden box, with no flowers, no adornment, not even handles. The pallbearers (14) carried it on some sort of float, not a trolley (after the service). It must have been quite heavy.  It’s reported that there were 400,000 people attending the Mass. It was a beautifully fine day with a slight breeze. I wondered how the cardinals kept their “skullcaps” on, since they mostly had very little hair and so could not use hatpins.  Actually they’re called zucchetto.  Perhaps they used glue to keep them on.

This funeral really reflected the humility of Pope Francis in many ways. One of them was that the trésor of the Catholic church was not evident and not used. I remember visits to churches in 2010 when one would pay extra € to go downstairs and see the treasure: richly jewelled emblems of church insignia. Instead there was an icon of the Mary and child – an eastern relic, not a famous Renaissance painting (of which there are many).  On our 2010 visit I tried to catalogue the different styles of Madonna and Child paintings.

The only drawback was the comments rolling throughout the broadcast. I tried not to look at them – some were very disrespectful. Come on, people! 

There were many senior Catholic clerics, many of them very finely adorned, but not all wore splendid robes. I have to say there were very few women, and not many nuns even, there. I do find the bishops’ tall white hats (mitres) slightly ridiculous. Never mind. Most people like to dress up.

Later in the Basilica there were children and even a baby in a pram.

The concelebrated Requiem Mass was held outside. Everyone was impeccably well behaved. I thought of the well-managed British celebrations – the late Queen’s platinum jubilee, her funeral, and her son’s coronation, which had horses sometimes (rarely) behaving badly, but this was superb too.  

The music was amazingly good and the sound recording excellent. The mass was mostly sung apart from the homily, which was spoken in Italian, a beautiful language to listen to.  It voiced many of Pope Francis’ beliefs, including one that no one wins in a war – build bridges, not walls, he would say.

It was interesting to see world leaders (not Netanyahu) relegated to not being the centre of attention.  There was a loud clap as President Zelensky arrived. During the sign of peace, Trump did his strange handshake on President Macron, almost ripping his arm off. But even he was well-behaved, although mercifully we didn’t see much of him. Apparently he was really looking forward to the Pope’s funeral (as you don’t). Apparently he slept through parts of it, and had to be prompted to offer the sign of peace. That shows how often he goes to church!

Afterwards we were shown a photo of Trump and Zelensky talking in St Peter’s Basilica. Apparently this took place before the Pope’s funeral.  Evidently Trump now believes that Putin has been stringing him along, and shouldn’t have dropped missiles on Kiev. Actually it’s not Zelensky’s fault! Fancy that!

The distribution of the Eucharist was very efficient, for such a large crowd. Unusually, anyone was invited to take part – you didn’t have to be a Catholic.

After the funeral mass there were representatives from the Orthodox Church who gave a blessing.  They have a different liturgy, but Francis was their pope, too. They were included in the service. Some of them were even more ornate!

After the Requiem Mass, the funeral was taken inside the Basilica where close family went in for a few minutes.  I am so glad that I’ve been there – twice!  It is huge, and magnificent. 

All these events seem very significant, seeing as I’ve just finished reading Conclave by Robert Harris (a very fine book), and we’ve just had Easter. It seemed so appropriate that the Pope held on despite severe illness to just after Easter Sunday; or, alternatively, that God didn’t take him until after Easter. It’s also significant that we were in Rome at the end of November last year, and we visited the Sistine chapel, where the next Conclave will be held.

Next the coffin was driven through Rome, in what they call the Pope-mobile, to the Basilica of Santa Maria Maggiore: past the Colosseum, to quite near the Termini Railway Station. Crowds of people lined the route all the way there. I am ashamed to say that we haven’t visited this church. But there are many famous churches in Rome, and we have visited several of them: one of the most famous is the Pantheon, but we’ve also been to Santa Maria Victoria, with the famous Bernini sculpture of St Teresa’s Ecstasy, and the church of St Ignatius Loyola; also the famous church in the Piazza del Populo with the Caravaggio frescoes. Actually there are two famous churches there. Really all of Rome is a monument, and whatever you choose to see, you’ll inevitably be missing out on some other things.

In this magnificent Basilica there were flowers: children laid them at the base of the altar.  This burial was a much more humble occasion, from what we could see of it.

Last Friday was Anzac Day.  I must admit there seemed to be less fuss than usual, coming as it did right after Easter. We went to New World in Thorndon on the Saturday afterwards, and although we saw posters for the RSA’s Cranzac (Anzac biscuits with cranberries) biscuits, we did not see the biscuits themselves. In my opinion, why would you add anything to an already delicious Anzac biscuit?  Although I have to admit that JD buys them with chocolate icing, and that’s delicious too.

On Friday afternoon my cleaning lady from Access came, back from her trip home to Columbia!  How lovely it was to see her again. She’s an efficient cleaner, and always mops the wooden entrance area to our house, which I appreciate. How glad I am to have her back. She remembers where everything is and what to do here.

It’s now Saturday 3 May.

It’s been quite an eventful week, with lots of changes. I went to Tai Chi on Monday, and Bible Study on Tuesday. Then I caught a bus into town and walked to Takina, the new conference centre, to go to Ticketek and get tickets for a concert next Friday evening. I have wrestled with Ticketmaster online, but it’s nicer, and cheaper, if way more trouble, to buy the tickets in person. The concert we’re going to is the NZSO conducted by Susuki, playing Bach, Mozart and Beethoven – my favourite composers!

After that I walked to Kaffee Eis in Cuba St to have lunch, and then to the Lighthouse Cinema in Wigan Street to see the Cillian Murphy movie, Small Things Like These. It’s a slow-moving movie, but a touching story, beautifully acted by Murphy, with not too much about the Catholic nuns being unkind to pregnant girls. That, of course, forms the back drop, but it didn’t dominate. It was a fine day, so good to do lots of walking.

The next day the weather was dreadful – the beginning of the big storm. Hymn singing was cancelled but the Te Reo class was still on.  I talked to someone afterwards and thus missed a bus, and asked JD to pick me up, since it was cold and raining. On our way we saw several trees blown down.

On Thursday morning my singing session restarted. Although the weather was atrocious, there was a good turnout with three new people!  I had gone out to get the newspaper early in the morning, and while it was calm in the master bedroom, it was pretty wild outside. It was very windy indeed in Ganges Road.

My cousin had booked to fly up from Christchurch for a Floral Art Conference to be held at Takina.  The plan was to meet her at the airport, take her to her hotel to check in, and chill out somewhere (where, exactly?) before having dinner at Ortega Fish Shack in Majoribanks Street. None of us had been there, but we’d had good reports from one of my sons and from her granddaughter. But the storm, with severe winds, meant that her flight was cancelled. So there was great uncertainty over her re-booking, and what to do about the dinner reservation.  It meant my grandson could come over on Thursday afternoon after all – in the event he did not come. JD and I decided to move the dinner reservation to Friday evening – this meant it was for 7:30, not 6:30 pm.

It ended up that my cousin was to fly up early on Saturday morning; meanwhile, I confirmed the dinner reservation at Ortega for JD and myself for Friday evening, but sadly we could not come earlier.  So we went out on Friday night: it was dark, and the weather was awful, being cold and windy although the rain held off.  Parking was a dreadful problem!  All out usual haunts didn’t work: they were either bike lanes, closed off by cones, or Residents’ Parking Only or Coupon Parking. In desperation, we parked some way down Kent Terrace, and walked back to Majoribanks Street.  We shivered as we waited to cross roads at controlled crossings.

Ortega was lovely, although it’s quite small and pretty noisy. We were warmly welcomed, although I have to confess that it was very dark and I had trouble reading the menu. The drinks were delicious: I had a Bellini, and JD a glass of Prosecco, and a glass of Chardonnay.  I had smoked warehou rillettes, and JD a baguette with butter – we shared these, and they were delicious, too. Then I had schnapper and he had terakihi for our main courses.  For dessert we shared crêpes with an orange and caramel sauce and vanilla ice cream. It was very rich, and we were glad we’d decided to share.  Afterwards it was surprisingly late, and we headed out into the cold back to the car. We should have left it in Johnsonville and caught a bus!

The next morning we were due to meet my cousin at the airport at 8:10 am!  I set the alarm on my phone for 6:10 am, figuring we should leave by 7:30 am. To my relief, JD was awake, and the newspaper was in the driveway. But my main surprise was that it was fine and much warmer! A beautiful day. We had a good run to the airport (25 minutes!) and were there in plenty of time to meet her. Then we drove to Takina, found a carpark nearby, and enjoyed morning tea together: oat lattés, cheese scones, and a delicious banana bread with hokey-pokey butter. We couldn’t eat it all, so brought some home afterwards. After a good chat, we delivered my cousin to her conference and came home and had a rest before going out again to do our weekly shop. This time JD did buy a packet of Cranzac biscuits: it’s $8 for a pack of 5!! We each had one after lunch, and they’re not even crisp!  How disappointing.

That’s it for now!  Many of us are looking forward to the French Film Festival, coming in June. Let’s hope there are some great movies! There’s been a dearth of good movies lately.  Slava Ukraini! Ngā mihi nui.