Plaza San Pedro, viernes por la tarde Saint Peter's, before sunset, from the obelisk, Friday night Petersplatz vor Sonnenuntergang, vom Obelisken aus, am Freitag
Rezando y charlando: Como está nuestro Santo Padre? Praying and dicussing: How is our Pope? Beten und fragen: Wie geht es dem Papst?
Noche en la Plaza San Pedro, minutos antes del rosario Evening at Saint Peter's: the rosary is about to start. Abend auf dem Petersplatz, kurz vor dem Rosenkranz Fotos: Donnelly © 2005

ROME, Simon Donnelly. I was going to write about how beautiful Easter Sunday morning was (which it was), but things have moved quickly, and our Polish warrior-pope, the apostle of life, the man from Cracow who changed the face of the world, is dying.

Easter Sunday morning was raining, but the sun shone brightly as Holy Mass was beginning, just like last year. The piazza was a riot of flowers and colour and beauty. The drizzle stopped, the sun poured down, and the Resurrection was made real to us. The Holy Father opened his window to bless us and greet us, but was too unwell to speak. We heard him breathing over the public address system: raspy breath. That was all. Silence speaks a lot, though. Even that was enough for the dozens of thousands of faithful to break into applause. He blessed us from his window. Perhaps the last Sunday blessing.

Then, right after that, a great gust of wind suddenly blew through Saint Peter’s square. "Ah... the ruach", said my seminarian friend from my diocese of Johannesburg (condiocesano, in Italian). The sudden gust of wind did indeed feel very much like the breath of the Holy Spirit, like Pentecost was being anticipated. We didn’t really know why.

But perhaps tonight we know why. I do not think the Holy Father will still be with us at Pentecost.

Thousands of faithful praying for him at St. Peter’s Square

We heard today that his health was deteriorating rapidly. I stopped at the Square tonight, to pray under his window. There were already thousands of faithful there by 6pm, some Italian, and many foreigners. It felt again like the gathering of the crowds at Pentecost: from all parts of the world. A group of Italians sang and prayed the rosary, as well as many hymns (many Spanish tunes, with guitar) for three hours. Some Boy Scouts and Girl Scouts arrived with candles. Nuns and sisters from many different congregations spoke quietly in small groups, or prayed the rosary. I exchanged a brief greeting with Schönstatt sister Lisianne, from the Via Aurelia shrine. Some priests moved slowly about the square. College rectors (including from the Pontifical Croatian College), and many others, arrived in the early evening.

Many religious students, including seminarians, are still out of Rome, on their Easter break. When they are back this weekend, the international Roman family will be reunited at the Pope’s side.

Meanwhile, the square was also full of families, with children. Many many Polish people in the city were there. A small Polish girl next to me said to her mother: ‘Mommy, where is the Pope?’ That’s what we were all asking ourselves.

As the sun set the lights in the papal apartments went on. We could not see him, but we know he is there. We could not even hear him tonight, but we are still united with him spiritually.

We are united in prayer and songs of praise

By 8pm, there were many thousands of us on the square, still almost totally silent (which for the lively Italian culture is no small miracle!). The video screens turned on, a group of priests and sisters and lay people came out to the steps of the basilica, and led us in praying the Mysteries of Light. They then invoked our Blessed Mother, in a very long litany of her titles. We sang the Salve Regina and the Regina Coeli. We are united in prayer and songs of praise.

As thousands of us quietly left the square around 9.30pm, thousands more were arriving. The Italians love their Polish pope very much, as does the whole world. We were taking it in turns to keep vigil at the bedside of our spiritual father, who for nearly 27 years has kept his fatherly eye on us.

Only his empty hands

It has struck many people, I’m sure, that just as an innocent American woman was being denied nutrition (including even water) and thus starved to death over nearly two weeks, so the Holy Father too, was beginning his own passion. He too is passing beyond where we think we can reach him.

Hans Kung’s recent attack on him — firmly rejected by Catholic Italian writer Vittorio Messori — shows how little the Holy Father is sometimes understood. The Holy Father has now, as he always had, only his empty hands (as German papal journalist Andreas Englisch recently wrote). This pope, this living saint, is not hiding his weakness and ultimately his death from the public. In this weakness, he gives the church tremendous hope and courage and strength.

Just as many of us were aghast and horrified at the killing of Terri Schiavo this week, so we are sure that the Holy Father’s suffering is united with hers, as an enormous sacrificial gift to the Church. We know that John Paul, our pope, will be loved tenderly by those closest to him until his final moment is at hand.

We commend him in this last moments entirely to the mother who he has always totally devoted himself to as Totus Tuus. May she take perfect care of him.

Simon Donnelly, from South Africa, is studying in Rome. He belongs to the Schoenstatt Movement.