ROME — Listen up, because the truth’s about to drop, and I don’t sugarcoat: While the world was still wiping its collective tears after Pope Francis’s funeral, the game was already back on in Rome — and the lineup looked more like a queue for the hottest club opening than a solemn display of mourning.
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, thousands — yes, thousands — of pilgrims and curiosity seekers stormed the Vatican walls the moment Papa Francesco’s freshly inscribed tomb swung open for public view. Picture it: a modest stone slab, about as flashy as a government-issued ID, now acting as the gravitational pull for droves of the faithful and footloose alike. Spiritual rush hour, Vatican edition.
Now, let’s not kid ourselves. This wasn’t just about piety and prayer beads. Oh no. This was history cosplay at its finest. Rubberneckers and Instagram apostles rubbing shoulders with the die-hards who believe that a selfie near a tomb might just be their express ticket past the pearly gates. Say it with me: Spiritual tourism, baby — and business is booming.
Look, I’m not here to rain on anyone’s pilgrimage parade. If walking six hours in the Roman sun to stare at a slab of marble floats your spiritual boat, bon voyage. But don’t think for a second that this spectacle wasn’t also a masterclass in branding from the world’s oldest and most strategic organization. The Catholic Church knows how to stage a send-off better than a Netflix docuseries. Subtle tomb, big emotion, maximum media. Textbook power play.
It’s strategy with a halo: Turn mourning into momentum. Channel grief into global goodwill. Lock in your loyal base while opening the doors to the undecided voters—er, believers. If politics is the art of the possible, religion, my friends, is the art of the eternal pivot.
And speaking of pivots, let’s acknowledge the elephant in St. Peter’s Square: the Vatican isn’t just guarding the soul of the Church; it’s safeguarding its relevance. In an era where TikTok prophets and YouTube theologians are gunning for attention, the old guard pulls a move so old-school it’s practically biblical—yet so savvy it leaves Silicon Valley looking like amateurs. Modest tomb — massive impact. Minimalism is the new flex.
Now, don’t get it twisted. Pope Francis was no political lightweight. He played the long game: mercy over judgment, inclusion over insulation. A Pope for the people — and a nightmare for the power brokers. His legacy was less about gilded cathedrals and more about shaking the pillars of tradition — sometimes so hard you could hear conservative cardinals clutching their pearls from halfway across the globe.
So, when you see the endless line snaking toward his tomb, don’t just see a thousand tired feet and crumpled prayer cards. See the living proof that Francis understood one thing better than most leaders — faith is fueled by proximity. If you can’t touch it, you won’t believe it. If you don’t believe it, you won’t stay loyal. He made belief tangible — and now, even in death, he’s solidifying his grip on the narrative in marble.
In the meantime, expect Rome to stay hotter than a CNN panel on Election Night. The pilgrimage-industrial complex is alive and kicking, the Vatican coffers are thankful, and the power plays — both divine and earthly — are just beginning.
The game’s on, and trust me: they’re playing to win.
– Mr. 47
