The Final Hours
After delivering his Easter Urbi et Orbi blessing on April 20, 2025, from the central balcony of St. Peter's Basilica, Pope Francis made a surprise appearance in St. Peter's Square. Despite his frailty, he greeted the faithful one last time, riding in the popemobile thanks to the encouragement of his longtime personal healthcare assistant, Massimiliano Strappetti.
Later that evening, back in his apartment and resting after what would be his final public outing, the Pope turned to Strappetti with simple, heartfelt words: “Thank you for bringing me back to the Square.” He also expressed gratitude more broadly, saying “thank you” and, according to some accounts, adding a gentle “sorry for the trouble” to those caring for him.
He was described as “tired but content.” Shortly afterward, he gestured a farewell, slipped into a coma, and died peacefully the next morning from a stroke followed by heart failure.
His last public words to the world were fittingly pastoral and hopeful: a call for renewed trust in others, especially the different and the distant, and the affirmation that “peace is possible.” He closed with “Brothers and sisters, happy Easter.”
Humility in Action
These final utterances were not grand theological statements or dramatic farewells. They were quiet expressions of gratitude and acknowledgment toward an ordinary caregiver. In a world that often celebrates power, status, and self-promotion, Pope Francis chose, even at death’s door, to thank someone for a small act of service—helping an elderly, ailing man return briefly to his people.
This moment encapsulated the humility he lived throughout his life:
- He rejected many of the traditional trappings of the papacy, choosing to live in the modest Domus Sanctae Marthae rather than the Apostolic Palace.
- He repeatedly taught that true humility comes through humiliation and self-emptying, echoing the example of Christ who “did not regard equality with God something to be grasped” (Philippians 2:6).
- He often said that humility is “the source of peace in the world and in the Church,” warning that its absence breeds division and conflict.
By thanking his nurse, Francis modeled the very humility he proclaimed. He did not see himself as above needing help or expressing appreciation. Instead, he recognized the dignity and contribution of the person assisting him. In his final conscious moments, the Successor of Peter became once again simply Jorge Mario Bergoglio—a man grateful for kindness shown to him.
A Lasting Lesson
Pope Francis’s last words remind us that humility is not weakness or false modesty. It is the honest recognition of our dependence on God and on one another. It is saying “thank you” when we could demand service, and “sorry for the trouble” when we could expect deference.
In an age of polarization and ego-driven discourse, his example calls us back to the Gospel’s radical simplicity: to serve rather than be served, to give thanks rather than seek acclaim, and to die as we hope to have lived—trusting in God’s mercy and grateful for every gift, even the smallest.
As the Church and the world reflect on his legacy, may these final words of gratitude continue to inspire. May we, like Pope Francis, strive to meet every person—especially those who care for us in our vulnerability—with a humble and thankful heart.
Requiescat in pace, Holy Father. Thank you for showing us the way of humility until the very end.
