What it was like seeing the open coffin of Pope Francis | World News

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We, along with other members of the global media, were invited into the basilica by the Vatican in order to see the lines of people filing past the coffin; to bear witness to the emotions, the sounds. To this demonstration of faith.

As we start to walk over, we know we are the lucky ones.

The queue to get into the basilica stretches into the distance – there are people waiting eight hours for the chance to see the coffin.

By contrast, we are ushered in through a side door. We round a corner, walking against a tide of people, until we enter the huge, soaring chamber in which the Pope’s coffin lies in state.

A beam of sunshine is lighting up an imposing statue, created by the genius of Bernini and now looking down upon the Pope.

I can see Francis’s hands crossed on his chest. His coffin is large, resting on the floor, but it is not ostentatious. You can see the red cloth of his vestments.

He is dead. That, of course, is so obvious, but also so profound.

It is one thing to be told that the Pope has died, but quite another to witness the proof. Perhaps that is why so many are queuing for this moment – to bring closure, as much as to offer thanks.

Setting glistens with gold

The setting is extraordinary.

St Peter’s Basilica is a simply astonishing building that glistens with gold and whose domed ceiling rises to the sky.

Francis wanted to eschew the extravagance of previous papal funerals, but there is no avoiding the splendour of his surroundings.

By his coffin, soaring up, is the huge canopy known as St Peter’s Baldachin, which covers the altar.

Beneath it, so Christians believe, is the tomb of St Peter. This is one of the holiest places in Christianity, and the Pope lies alongside it.

Around his coffin are four soldiers from the Swiss Guard, dressed in their familiar red, blue, and yellow uniforms.

No sense of rush

A rope runs around the coffin, marking off the area. There are a few seats on one side for notable dignitaries to use when paying their respects. On the other side is a space for senior members of the Catholic church to pray and give thanks.

As we watch, there are two cardinals using this space, including the Italian Matteo Zuppi, a contender to be the next pope. I can see his mouth moving in prayer, his head bowed.

The chamber is thronged with people, but there is no sense of rush.

The queue of people runs round the edge of half the room, but it is orderly, shuffling ever forward. And there is such a blend of people – nuns and priests, but also families dressed for a day in the sun, teenagers in football shirts, grandparents in their finery. Some come in black, others in suits, some in scruffy old T-shirts.

I see three nuns come past, followed by a young woman in jeans and a T-shirt. The nuns are smiling; the woman is sobbing. We learn it’s impossible to predict who will be affected most.

You do not get to linger long at the front – maybe a few seconds – but it is an opportunity that divides.

Phones are a constant sight

Some make a cross; some offer a prayer; some take a selfie. Mobile phones are a constant sight. At any given moment, I can see dozens of them held in the air, capturing photos of the scene.

It’s hard to say whether these phones damage the mood, bruising the sombre sense of intimacy, or whether they add to the idea that this is as much about celebrating life as it is about bemoaning death. Maybe both can be true.

It is an emotional experience, whether you have faith or not. What is remarkable here is not the sight of Pope Francis’s coffin, not the hands arranged on his chest, nor the ceremony around St Peter’s.

Read more:
Inside Vatican City at moment of high tension
Who will be at the Pope’s funeral – and who won’t be

What is extraordinary – and what will live with me – is that so many people are prepared to queue for hour after hour in the beating sun to quietly offer thanks to a man that hardly any of them had ever met, but many felt they knew.

Like the Queen before, what really matters is not the scene that people will see, but rather the fact that they are so desperate to come.

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