Inside the sacred rituals, global mourning, and celestial succession of the Papacy…
Pope Francis, the first non-European pontiff in nearly 1,300 years, died on Monday, April 21, 2025. He was 88 years old. The pope’s death comes after his recent battle with pneumonia in both lungs. He was discharged from a Rome hospital just weeks ago and returned to the Vatican, where he made a surprise public appearance on April 6.
The Vatican confirmed the pontiff died early in the morning on Easter Monday; he was recently discharged from hospital after weeks of treatment for an infection. Cardinal Kevin Farrell, Camerlengo of the Holy Roman Church, announced the death of Pope Francis from the Casa Santa Marta with these words:
“Dearest brothers and sisters, with deep sorrow I must announce the death of our Holy Father Francis. At 7:35 this morning, the Bishop of Rome, Francis, returned to the house of the Father. His entire life was dedicated to the service of the Lord and of His Church. He taught us to live the values of the Gospel with fidelity, courage, and universal love, especially in favor of the poorest and most marginalized. With immense gratitude for his example as a true disciple of the Lord Jesus, we commend the soul of Pope Francis to the infinite merciful love of the One and Triune God.”
When a Pope dies, time momentarily stops—not just within the marbled walls of the Vatican, but across the globe. For over a billion Catholics, the passing of the Bishop of Rome is a spiritual rupture, while for the world at large, it is a moment saturated with symbolism, solemn ritual, and centuries-old mystery. Yet beneath the grandeur of the occasion lies a sequence of meticulously choreographed events—some ancient, others modern—designed to ease the Church from mourning to rebirth.
From the whispered deathbed confirmation to the billowing white smoke announcing a new pontiff, here’s a look inside what actually happens when the Pope dies.
The moment of death: Protocols and pageantry
The death of a Pope initiates one of the most tightly controlled ritual responses on the planet. Known as Sede Vacante—Latin for “the seat being vacant”—the Vatican enters a special interregnum period in which the See of Rome has no pope. Spiritual leadership is paused. No new teachings or decisions are made. But behind the scenes, ancient protocol is already quietly in motion.
At the centre of it all is the Camerlengo, or Chamberlain of the Holy Roman Church. Today, that title is held by Irish-American Cardinal Kevin Farrell, but the role itself dates back to the 11th century. Upon the Pope’s death, the Camerlengo is responsible for officially confirming it—a duty once marked by gently calling the Pope’s baptismal name three times and tapping his head with a silver hammer. While this particular ritual is no longer performed literally, the symbolism endures, and the Camerlengo still leads the delicate process of sealing the Pope’s private chambers and safeguarding papal property.
One of the most striking acts that follows is the destruction of the Ring of the Fisherman—the Pope’s signet ring, used to seal official documents. It is ceremonially crushed with a silver hammer to prevent the forging of decrees during the interregnum. From this moment, the Pope’s authority ends.
A funeral for the ages: Nine days of mourning
The death of Pope John Paul II in April 2005 offers the clearest contemporary glimpse into these centuries-old customs. As the longest-reigning pope in modern history (26 years and 168 days), his death was a seismic global event. Within hours, the Vatican announced the news; the bells of St. Peter’s Basilica tolled mournfully, and black-clad Swiss Guards took their place outside the Apostolic Palace.
The days that followed are known as the Novemdiales—nine official days of mourning. Pope John Paul II’s body was placed in state in St. Peter’s Basilica, and more than three million people visited to pay their respects, some standing in line for over 24 hours. The Pope’s vestments, red chasuble, and papal pallium were on full display, as pilgrims knelt in silence under Michelangelo’s soaring dome.
The papal funeral was held on April 8, 2005, and drew more than 4 million people to Rome—an unprecedented number. Among the attendees were President George W. Bush, Prince Charles, the Dalai Lama, and the kings of Spain and Belgium. It was one of the largest gatherings of heads of state in history, rivaling the funerals of Winston Churchill and John F. Kennedy. Mourners overflowed the Vatican, watching the ceremony on massive screens set up across the city. For the first time, the papal funeral was not just a religious rite—it was a global media event.
True to tradition, the Pope was buried in three nested coffins—cypress, lead, and elm—beneath the Vatican Grottoes, alongside other pontiffs.
The Conclave: Smoke, secrets, and succession
Following the funeral, the College of Cardinals gathers to elect a new Pope in a centuries-old ceremony known as the Conclave—from the Latin cum clave, meaning “with key.” The cardinals are literally locked inside the Sistine Chapel until they can agree on a successor.
During the 2005 conclave, 115 cardinal-electors entered the chapel beneath the painted gaze of Michelangelo’s Last Judgment. The voting process is secretive, spiritual, and deeply ritualistic. Each ballot is handwritten, folded, and placed on a silver plate before being slipped into a chalice.
Twice a day, the votes are burned in a specially designed stove. If no decision has been reached, chemicals are added to produce black smoke. But when a two-thirds majority is achieved, the smoke turns white, signaling to the world that Habemus Papam—we have a Pope.
Just 26 hours after the conclave began, white smoke rose from the chimney on April 19, 2005. Crowds erupted in St. Peter’s Square. Minutes later, German Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger appeared on the balcony, choosing the name Benedict XVI. A new era had begun.
A historical ritual in a digital age
The papal death rituals we witness today are steeped in antiquity—but they have also adapted to a modern, media-saturated world. The last several papal transitions have been live-streamed to billions. Social media now buzzes with speculation the moment rumors circulate about a pope’s health. But the sacred cadence of Catholic ritual remains intact—unchanged in its essentials since at least the Middle Ages.
Even more recently, in 2022, the world witnessed another unique moment in papal history: the death of Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI, the first former pope to pass away in 600 years. Since he had resigned in 2013 (the first to do so since Pope Gregory XII in 1415), his death sparked fresh discussions about the coexistence of reigning and emeritus popes, and how funerary rites would differ. Unlike a sitting pontiff, Benedict’s funeral was simpler, though still held in St. Peter’s Square and attended by over 50,000 faithful.
Why it still matters
For Catholics, the Pope is more than a spiritual figurehead. He is a living symbol of apostolic continuity, tracing a line back to Saint Peter himself. When a pope dies, it is not just the loss of a leader; it is a metaphysical vacancy, a tear in the fabric of the Church that must be prayerfully mended.
Yet even for those outside the Catholic faith, the death of a Pope captures the human imagination. It is an echo of something older than any nation-state—a drama of mortality and renewal played out against the backdrop of Renaissance frescoes and ancient rituals. In a world of constant reinvention, the pageantry of papal death reminds us of something enduring, eternal, and deeply human.
And so, as the bells toll and the incense rises, the world watches once more—not just for the next Pope to emerge from behind the red curtains, but for the living continuation of a sacred tradition, two millennia in the making.
