Popes Fear Death Too — A Meditation On The Ultimate Test Of Faith

-Analysis-

TURIN — What will we say when our time comes? What will we say in that moment so rightly called “fatal,” because it marks, once and for all, our encounter with ultimate fate? What words will rise from our hearts when we look death in the face and see it approaching?

On the night of February 28, it was Pope Francis’s turn to arrive at that moment. And from an interview in Italian daily Corriere della Sera with the head of the pontiff’s medical team, Dr. Sergio Alfieri we learned that the Pope’s words were: È brutto: “It’s bad.” The doctor added that “those who were next to him had tears in their eyes,” emphasizing the emotionally charged atmosphere of the moment.

How do we die? What will our death be like? Could these dark words from the Pope teach us something?

There are of course too many variables at play: it depends on our age, on the kind of illness eating away at us, on whether we are alone or if someone will hold our hand, on whether our psyche is resigned or not, whether it can say the ultimate yes to Fate (as Nietzsche wished: “From now on I only want to be a yes-sayer!”) or whether it will resist to the bitter end.

They say Kant died murmuring “Es ist gut” (All right), but we do not know whether he meant life itself or the amount of water that had just been poured on him.

Same with Goethe, who is said to have died saying “Mehr Licht” (More light), but it is unclear whether he longed to meet the eternal or simply wanted the shutters opened a little wider. Great men have died peacefully and others tragically, and all of it is summed up in the final words of Jesus, which for two of the gospels were despairing (“My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?”) and for the other two were words of comfort and even victory (“Father, into your hands I commend my spirit”, “It is finished”).

But what matters more? To say yes to the death that comes, or to say no? An obedient yes, an expression of Amor Fati, or a stubborn no, Amor Vitae? A yes that says “fiat voluntas tua” (so be Your will) and lets go, or a no that clings to life and insists on staying?

I do not know how to answer except with a dry “it depends.” The question is too uncertain, too tied to individual experience. Still, I imagine much depends on the thought we hold about what comes along with death.c, what does it bring with it? Oblivion, or God? The end of everything, or life without end?

Sister death

Another question: how should we see death and its place in the world? Is it something natural and part of life, or is it a tragedy that should never have been part of life in the first place? To use theological terms: did God foresee death, or did it enter unexpectedly as a result of sin?

The history of Christian spirituality does not help us resolve this, because two towering figures — Saint Paul and Saint Francis of Assisi — saw it in completely different ways.

For Paul, the story goes like this: “Through one man sin entered the world and through sin death,” so death is directly linked to sin; death exists because sin came first. For Paul, in fact, death is an enemy: “the last enemy.”

Mystery! One biblical text says death is the devil’s doing, another that it is God’s will

Francis, by contrast, in his Canticle of the Creatures, calls death “sister” and blesses the Lord for it: “Praised be you, my Lord, through our sister bodily Death, / from which no living man can escape.” He added this stanza later in life, when he was nearly blind and felt the end was near, which, as it turns out, it was.

The same contradiction shows up in Judaism. The Book of Wisdom says death was not God’s doing but “entered the world through the envy of the devil” and is therefore evil by nature, while the Book of Sirach calls it “the decree of the Lord for every man,” suggesting it is part of the order of things, something good in itself.

Mystery! Which view should we take?

Survival instinct

Each of us has to grapple with this question in our own heart, in our own conscience, and above all within our own life. As for me, I stand with Saint Francis and with Sirach. That is, I see death not as punishment for sin but as something natural, written into the structure of this life from the start.

In my view, to accept this is a mark of wisdom and a path to freedom. We are here because of the work and death of others, and we are called to work and die so that others may live. That is the pattern life hands down to us. Embracing it means “denying oneself,” to borrow a familiar phrase from Jesus. It means not placing your ego at the center of the universe, but rather putting it in service of something greater. Of what? Of the cosmic process.

Christians call it “creation” and believe it comes from God, a belief shared by Jews and Muslims. Others call it by different names, give it other origins, and some, like 17th-century philosopher Spinoza, go so far as to say it is itself divine, that there is no difference between God and Nature: Deus sive Natura.

What is certain is that the cosmic process includes everyone: monotheists, pantheists, agnostics, atheists. And the task of the mind is to figure out what sort of relationship to build with it, and how to live accordingly. Is the cosmic process that brought us into being and will one day lead to our undoing an enemy or an ally of our lives? Seeing it as an ally means accepting it as it is, including the reality of death, and that, in my view, is a mature form of love for life.

Of course, this does not mean we should stop fighting for life, or stop nurturing the deepest drive we have: the instinct to survive. When illness strikes, we should want to get better, and do everything we can to heal. That is what doctors are called to do, and the same goes for those who are ill, because honoring life starts with living it. Not to mention that this world is beautiful, and being alive in it is a miracle we should wake up to every day with grateful joy for the cosmic process, however we conceive it or name it.

So be it

The closing line of the Hail Mary, a line repeated countless millions of times across the world is Nunc et in hora mortis nostrae, “now and at the hour of our death.”

A yes to the cosmic process itself

Why has it always felt necessary to pray to Our Lady to be with us in the hour of death? Because in that moment, all our philosophical and theological ideas may fall apart, and we may find ourselves alone, afraid, facing the darkness of the end. That fear is real, deeply human. And that is why we pray to the Mother of God to stand with us.

What did Pope Francis mean when he said, “It’s bad”? I do not know. What I do believe strongly is that there is truth in what Dr. Alfieri told the pontiff about the people praying for his recovery: “I think that the fact that the whole world was praying for him also contributed to this.”

The Hail Mary ends with “Amen,” a Hebrew word that means “So be it.” It is the yes that Nietzsche dreamed of, a yes to the cosmic process itself: “From now on, I only want to be someone who says yes!” This shows that placing our trust in the process that gave us life is something that transcends belief or unbelief in God, and concerns those who we once called “all those of good will.”