The spiritual testaments of the last 6 popes
Dating back at least to the pontificate of Pope Pius XII (with one exception), the reigning pontiff's "spiritual testament" has been released upon his death.
Pope Benedict XVI
The 95-year-old retired pontiff died on December 31, 2022, having been the oldest living man to have ever served as Bishop of Rome. That very day, the Vatican Press Office released Benedict XVI’s spiritual testament, which had been written in August of 2006, barely a year after his election to the papacy:
When, at this late hour of my life, I look back on the decades I have wandered through, I see first of all how much reason I have to give thanks. Above all, I thank God Himself, the giver of all good gifts, who has given me life and guided me through all kinds of confusion; who has always picked me up when I began to slip, who has always given me anew the light of his countenance. In retrospect, I see and understand that even the dark and arduous stretches of this path were for my salvation and that He guided me well in those very stretches.
You can read the rest here.
Pope St. John Paul II
St. John Paul the Great, as he ought to become better known, wrote his original spiritual testament on March 6, 1979, just 6 months after his elevation to the papacy.
He would, however, go on to add to his testament five different times over the course of his 26 years in the Chair of Peter, the last of which was in the great Jubilee Year of 2000.
In that final addition, the pope wrote:
As the Great Jubilee of the Year 2000 continues, the 20th century closes behind us and the 21st century unfolds, from one day to the next. In accordance with the designs of Providence, I have been granted to live in the difficult century that is retreating into the past, and now in the year in which I have reached my 80s ("octogesima adveniens"), I must ask myself whether the time has come to say with Simeon of the Bible, "Nunc dimittis".
On 13 May 1981, the day of the attack on the Pope during the General Audience in St Peter's Square, Divine Providence miraculously saved me from death. He Himself, who is the One Lord of life and death, extended this life of mine, and in a certain way he restored it to me. Ever since that moment it has belonged even more to Him. I hope He will help me to recognize how long I must continue this service to which he called me on 16 October 1978. I ask him to deign to call me to Himself whenever he wishes. "If we live, we live to the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord; so then... we are the Lord's" (cf. Rom 14: 8). I hope that as long as I am granted to carry out the Petrine service in the Church, God in His Mercy will grant me the necessary strength for this service.
Read it here, in its fullness.
Blessed Pope John Paul I
Interestingly enough, the 33-day papacy of Blessed John Paul I – in my estimation, one of the greatly underrated figures of the 20th Century Catholic Church – was too short to see him jot down an official “spiritual testament.” Thankfully, it was Pope Benedict XVI who noted, in a 2008 Angelus address commemorating the 30th anniversary of JP1’s death, that his motto “Humilitas” was all the spiritual testament he needed to leave the world with.
In one of the four General Audiences he gave during his monthlong pontificate in 1978, John Paul I said:
I will just recommend one virtue so dear to the Lord. He said, "Learn from me who am meek and humble of heart". I run the risk of making a blunder, but I will say it: the Lord loves humility so much that, sometimes, he permits serious sins. Why? In order that those who committed these sins may, after repenting remain humble. One does not feel inclined to think oneself half a saint, half an angel, when one knows that one has committed serious faults. The Lord recommended it so much: be humble. Even if you have done great things, say: "We are useless servants."
Pope St. Paul VI
Paul VI, who reigned for 15 years (1963-1978) in the Chair of St. Peter, wrote his spiritual testament in 1965, and added to it only twice – in 1972 and 1973. He thanked God for the gift of life, and offered his blessings to his surviving family and to the whole church, but also gave specific prescriptions regarding his funeral arrangements, burial preference, and gave a last word regarding the Church as a whole and on the Second Vatican Council, which he had inherited from Pope St. John XXIII and saw to its conclusion:
As regards my funeral: let it be simple and animated by religious piety (I do not wish to have the catafalque, as is the custom for the funerals of Popes; instead let things be carried out in a humble and becoming manner).
As regards my tomb: I would like to be buried in the earth with a simple stone to indicate the place and invite a prayer of Christian piety. No monument for me.
And most important of all, on taking my leave of this earthly scene, and going to face the judgment and mercy of God, there are so many things I should say, indeed so many. On the state of the Church; let her give ear to some words of ours which we uttered on her behalf seriously and lovingly. On the Council: let it be brought to a good conclusion, and let its prescriptions be put into effect. As regards ecumenism: the approach to the separated Brethren must go on, with great understanding and patience, with great love; but without deflecting from the true Catholic doctrine. As regards the world: one must not think to help it by following its ways of thought, its habits and tastes, but by studying it, loving it and serving it.
I close my eyes on this sorrowful, dramatic and magnificent world, invoking once again on her behalf the divine goodness.
Read the rest of St. Paul VI’s testament in full here.
Pope St. John XXIII
“Good Pope John”, as he was known during his five short years in office (1958-1963), was a humble man from humble beginnings, and he never seemed to let to trappings of his various offices distract him from being rooted in his origins.
In his spiritual testament, first written in 1957, when he was still Cardinal Patriarch of Venice, John XXIII wrote of his mortal end:
At the moment for saying farewell, or better still, arrivederci, I once more remind everyone of what counts most in life: blessed Jesus Christ, His Holy Church, His Gospel; and in the Gospel, above all, the Pater noster 4 in the spirit and heart of Jesus and the Gospel, the truth and goodness, the goodness meek and kind, active and patient, victorious and unbowed.
Read the rest here.
Venerable Pope Pius XII
The pope who led the Church through the dark days of World War II – in which he heroically rescued every Jew he could and took part in a plot to assassinate Hitler, unlike many rumors that swirled around his name in the decades following his death – reigned for nearly 20 years (1939-1958).
Although the full text of his last will and testament was unavailable, a digitized copy of the Time Magazine report of his death in 1958 had this excerpt:
Miserere mei, Deus, secundum miseri-cordiam tuam.
These words [Have pity on me, God, according to thy mercy.’), which I pronounced at the moment in which with trepidation I accepted election as Supreme Pontiff, I now repeat at a time in which knowledge of the deficiencies, of the failures, of the sins committed during so long a pontificate and in so grave an epoch has made more clear to my mind my insufficiency and unworthiness . . . I pray those whose affair it is not to bother to erect any monuments to my memory: sufficient it is that my poor mortal remains should be laid simply in a sacred place . . .
Read the full biography from Time on Pius XII here.
BONUS: Pope Leo XIII’s deathbed poem
Although the deep recesses of the internet don’t appear to have English translations of any last will and testament from pontiffs prior to Pius XII, one treasure that we found lurking in a bright corner was a poem written by Leo XIII (+1903) as he was on his deathbed.
Leo XIII, the oldest reigning pope at death or resignation – he was 93 and change when he died – also has the fourth-longest papal stint in Church history, behind only St. John Paul II, Blessed Pius IX, and St. Peter himself.
According to his biographer, Richard H. Clarke, Leo XIII composed a poem called “At Nightfall,” subtitled, “The Meditation of a Troubled Spirit.” As Clarke notes, “Written in classical Latin verse, he dictated the poem to his secretary, who wrote it down, preserving it for posterity. ‘At Nightfall’ expressed the pope’s dying sentiments, presented as a soliloquy with his own soul:”
Leo, the destined hour! Now must thou hence
And, as thy merits, take the endless way.
What lot awaits thee? Heavenly joy, thy gifts
Which God had freely given, bade thee hope—
But the great Keys! A trust of mighty weight
And borne so long—thou groanest at the thought;
For he who leads in honor all the rest
Must, if he fail, the keener suffering bear.
Amid thy fears, there comes a gentle face,
A gentler voice speaks comfort to the heart:
“Why does fear shake thee? Why, on gazing back
O’er thy long past, should sadness stir thy soul?
“The pitying Christ is here: He gives his grace
To those that seek. Have faith—He beareth all.
Let us continue to pray for Pope Francis.