Cue the choir, the incense, and the collective gasp of the entire Catholic world.
Pope Francis — born Jorge Mario Bergoglio, a.k.a. God’s MVP on Earth — has passed away at the age of 88, according to the Vatican. Yes, it’s official. The Vatican broke the holy news on Monday morning (April 21), and let’s just say, this was not the kind of “Good News” they usually specialize in.
The Pope, who had recently been hospitalized with pneumonia in both lungs (double trouble), had bounced back like a champ and even made a surprise appearance on April 6, waving to the crowd like, “I’m still holy, homies!” But alas, just weeks later, the world’s holiest grandpa has returned to his spiritual home.
The news was shared by Cardinal Kevin Farrell, the Vatican’s camerlengo — which is basically the Catholic Church’s emergency hotline guy when the Pope’s away… permanently.
“Dear brothers and sisters,” began the Vatican’s statement, which already felt like the start of a tearjerker, “with deep sorrow I must announce the death of our Holy Father Francis.”
The statement continued with the kind of heartfelt tribute that makes you want to light a candle, donate to a soup kitchen, and call your grandma. It read:
“At 7:35 this morning the Bishop of Rome, Francis, returned to the house of the Father. His whole life was dedicated to the service of the Lord and His Church. He taught us to live the values of the Gospel with fidelity, courage, and universal love, especially in favour of the poorest and most marginalized.”
Basically: the guy walked the walk, talked the talk, and occasionally surprised everyone with a hot take on Twitter (well, X, but we’re not calling it that).
The Vatican added, “With immense gratitude for his example as a true disciple of the Lord Jesus, we commend the soul of Pope Francis to the infinite merciful love of the Triune God.” Translation: Heaven’s got a new roommate, and He’s ready for some deep theological convos.
The last known photo of the Pope? A royal crossover event with King Charles and Queen Camilla on April 9 — a trio that sounds like the setup for a really wild dinner party.
Rest in peace, Papa Frank. You were the shepherd, the sneaker-wearing pontiff, the people’s pope. Heaven just got a whole lot cooler.
