We publish the preface that the late Pope Francis wrote on February 7 for the book in Italian by Cardinal Angelo Scola, Archbishop Emeritus of Milan, titled “Awaiting a New Beginning. Reflections on Old Age.” The volume, published by the Vatican Publishing House (LEV), will be available in bookstores starting Thursday, April 24.

By Pope Francis

I read with emotion these pages born from the thought and affection of Angelo Scola, dear brother in the episcopate and a person who has held delicate roles in the Church, such as having been rector of the Pontifical Lateran University, later Patriarch of Venice, and Archbishop of Milan.

First of all, I want to express my deep gratitude to him for this reflection that combines personal experience and cultural sensitivity in a way I have rarely encountered. One — experience — enlightens the other — culture; the second gives substance to the first. In this happy interweaving, life and culture blossom with beauty.

Let not the short form of this book be deceptive: these are very dense pages, to read and reread. From Angelo Scola’s reflections I gather some particularly resonant points with what my own experience has taught me. Angelo Scola speaks to us of old age, his old age, which he writes about with a disarmingly intimate touch: “it came upon me with sudden acceleration and in many ways unexpectedly.”

Already in his choice of the word with which he defines himself as “old;”  I find a resonance with the author. Yes, we must not be afraid of old age, we must not fear embracing becoming old, because life is life, and sugarcoating reality means betraying the truth of things. Restoring pride to a term too often considered unhealthy is a gesture for which we should be grateful to Cardinal Scola.

Because to say “old” does not mean “to be discarded,” as a degraded culture of waste sometimes leads us to think. Saying “old” instead means saying experience, wisdom, knowledge, discernment, thoughtfulness, listening, slowness… Values of which we are in great need!

It is true, one becomes old, but this is not the problem: the problem is how one becomes old. If we live this time of life as a grace, and not with resentment; if we accept the time (even a long one) in which we experience diminished strength, the increasing fatigue of the body, the reflexes no longer what they were in our youth — with a sense of gratitude and thankfulness — well then, old age too becomes an age of life which, as Romano Guardini taught us, is truly fruitful and capable of radiating goodness.

Angelo Scola highlights the human and social value of grandparents. I have often emphasized how the role of grandparents is of fundamental importance for the balanced development of the young, and ultimately for a more peaceful society. Because their example, their words, their wisdom can instill in the young a far-sighted vision, the memory of the past, and the anchoring in values that endure.

Amid the frenzy of our societies, often devoted to the ephemeral and the unhealthy taste for appearances, the wisdom of grandparents becomes a shining beacon, shedding light on uncertainty and providing direction to grandchildren, who can draw from their experience something “extra” for their daily lives.

The words that Angelo Scola dedicates to the theme of suffering, which often takes hold in becoming old, and consequently to death, are precious gems of faith and hope. In the reflections of this brother bishop, I hear echoes of the theology of Hans Urs von Balthasar and Joseph Ratzinger — a theology “done on one’s knees,” steeped in prayer and in dialogue with the Lord.

This is why I said earlier that these are pages born “from the thought and the affection” of Cardinal Scola: not only from thought, but also from the emotional dimension, which is the one to which Christian faith points, since Christianity is not so much an intellectual act or a moral choice, but rather the affection for a person — that Christ who came to meet us and decided to call us friends.

It is precisely the conclusion of these pages by Angelo Scola, a heartfelt confession of how he is preparing himself for the final encounter with Jesus, that gives us a consoling certainty: death is not the end of everything, but the beginning of something. It is a new beginning, as the title wisely highlights, because eternal life,  which those who love already begin to experience on earth within the daily tasks of life — is beginning something that will never end.

And it is precisely for this reason that it is a “new” beginning, because we will live something we have never fully lived before: eternity.

With these pages in hand, I would ideally like to repeat the same gesture I made just after donning the white robe of the papacy in the Sistine Chapel: to embrace with great esteem and affection my brother Angelo — now, both of us older than we were on that day in March 2013. But still united by the gratitude to this loving God who offers us life and hope at every age of our living.

Pope Francis thanked his personal nurse for encouraging him to greet the crowds in St Peter’s Square on Easter Sunday, according to the Vatican, which said that these were amongst his last words.

The Argentine pontiff, 88, died on Monday morning from a stroke, less than a month after returning home from five weeks in hospital battling double pneumonia.

Thank you for bringing me back to the square,” Francis told his nurse, Massimiliano Strappetti, after what would be his final popemobile ride, according to the Vatican News, the Holy See’s media outlet.

The pope appeared exhausted during Easter celebrations on Sunday, but nevertheless greeted the crowd and drove around St Peter’s Square cheered by thousands of rapt worshippers.

“Do you think I can manage it?” he had asked Strappetti before taking the plunge.

The medic, in whom he had complete confidence, reassured him.

Francis then spent about 15 minutes waving at the crowd and blessing babies from his popemobile, flanked by numerous bodyguards.

The Pope spent the afternoon resting in his Vatican residence, Casa Santa Marta, and had a peaceful dinner, Vatican News reported.

On Monday, at around 5.30 am (0330 GMT), “the first signs of illness appeared,” it said.

More than an hour later, he waved to Strappetti from his bed in what the media site described as “a gesture of farewell” before falling into a coma.

Francis was declared dead at 7:35 am.

“He did not suffer. It all happened quickly,” Vatican News said, quoting people who were with the pontiff in his final moments.

“It was a discreet death, almost sudden, without long suffering or public alarm, for a pope who had always been very reserved about his health.”

Public viewing: The public viewing of Pope Francis will begin as soon as Wednesday morning in St. Peter’s Basilica, after his casket is taken by procession from the Vatican hotel where he lived.

Francis’ burial site: In his final will, Francis confirmed he would be buried at St. Mary Major basilica, which is outside the Vatican and home to his favorite icon of the Virgin Mary.

The next pope: Eligible cardinals will vote for a papal successor in the Sistine Chapel via a process known as “the conclave.” The cardinals haven’t set a date for the conclaveto elect Francis’ successor, but the current norms suggest it couldn’t begin before May 5.

Pope Francis’ funeral has been set for Saturday at 10 a.m. local time in St. Peter’s Square, to be celebrated by the dean of the College of Cardinals. 

Cardinals met at the Vatican to schedule Pope Francis’ funeral and burial, plan the conclave to elect his successor and make other decisions about running the Catholic Church as world leaders and the ordinary faithful grieve the pontiff’s death.

In the will, dated June 29, 2022, Francis wrote that with the “feeling that the sunset of my earthly life is approaching,” he wished to express his preferences only with regard to plans for his burial.

“I have always entrusted my life and my priestly and episcopal ministry to the Mother of Our Lord, Mary Most Holy,” he wrote in the document, released by the Vatican Monday. “Therefore, I ask that my mortal remains rest awaiting the day of resurrection in the Papal Basilica of Santa Maria Maggiore.”

The fifth-century church is one of the four Papal Basilicas in Rome and is dedicated to the Virgin Mary. He noted that is also where he visited to pray after each of his more than 100 trips abroad.

“I ask that my tomb be prepared in the niche of the side nave between the Pauline Chapel (Chapel of the Salus Populi Romani) and the Sforza Chapel of the aforementioned Papal Basilica,” Francis said in his will. 

“The tomb must be in the earth; simple, without particular decoration and with the only inscription: Franciscus.” 

Unlike other popes, he did not request any mention of his papacy in the inscription — only his name.

He ended his will with: “May the Lord give the deserved reward to those who have loved me and will continue to pray for me. The suffering that has become present in the last part of my life I have offered to the Lord for peace in the world and brotherhood among peoples.”

His death comes at one of the most important times of the year for followers of the Roman Catholic Church, and less than 24 hours after the ailing Pope addressed worshipers in St Peter’s Square on Easter Sunday.

That timing is not lost on Catholics. 

“He [God] chose the most beautiful day for the Christian Church – he couldn’t have chosen a better day,” said Father Sergio Codera, a Salesian priest from Spain.

He continued: “It [Easter] is the most important occasion Christians celebrate, when we celebrate that death does not have the final word. 

“And it has been this day that God has chosen for Pope Francis to meet him.”

Some are praying; some are crying. Others, deep in thought, gaze at St. Peter’s Basilica as Cardinal Mauro Gambetti leads the rosary for Pope Francis in a St. Peter’s Square packed with faithful from all over the world. Among them is Yovana Aguikar, of Cali, Colombia. 

“I was already in Rome when I heard about Pope Francis’ death. It was a huge loss for me and my family. So I came to St. Peter’s to remember him. I’ve been here since this morning,” Aguikar said as those around her continued praying, their focus unwavering.

Federica Pesch said just after the ceremony ended: “It’s very sad that Pope Francis has died, but he did so many beautiful things in his life, and that’s why we must remember him. Now he is with God. We Christians shouldn’t fear death.” 

She’s originally from Germany but has lived in Italy for 30 years. Together with her husband, Tobias Wallbrecher, she is the president of the Ricordiamo Insieme Foundation, which works to preserve the memory of the Shoah.

They were also in St. Peter’s Square on the day Pope Francis was elected: “I cried a lot. I was so moved, because he’s truly a humble man,” Pesch said before she shared a memory of some months ago, when Francis, speaking from the window, noticed the Israeli flag she and her husband had brought with them and emphasized the importance of the flag as a symbol of peace. 

“Since Oct. 7, we’ve been coming here every Sunday,” Pesch said, glad to say one last goodbye to Francis along with the hundreds of people around her.