THE NARRATIVE ARC | DANIEL B. GALLAGHER
A Homeless Pope
Caught in a game of musical chairs
The new pope is living where a former pope had lived before he was pope because the pope after that pope chose not to live where the pope before him had lived while he was still pope, even though, before that guy was pope, he had to live in the rooms where the pope after him would always live.
Whew!
Let me break down this game of musical chairs.
Like his two predecessors, the new pope, Leo XIV, has no place to lay his head. At least not permanently.
You see, a simple set of rooms, including a dining space and kitchen, has been reserved for the pope and members of his household since the seventeenth century. If you are standing at the obelisk in Saint Peter’s Square and looking at the façade of the Basilica, that complex of rooms, called the papal apartments, is located on the top floor of the Apostolic Palace to your right. It’s where the pope appears when praying the Sunday Angelus with the crowd below.
You would think that reserving a space for the reigning Pontiff would make his life and that of those around him easier. Think again. If you’d had any experience with Airbnb, you know that no one ultimately cares for a home unless he or she is the owner. Things are even worse at the Vatican since, ultimately, no one “owns” the papal apartments except … well … the pope.
While I was serving on the secretarial staff of Pope Benedict XVI, my office was located within the Apostolic Palace just around the corner from the papal apartments. Often, after working late into the night, I would hear Benedict tinkering with a Mozart passage as I turned out the lights. His piano was the only possession (aside from countless books) that he had brought over from his pre-papal residence across the street. A chronic insomniac, the former Pontiff treasured quiet moments alone when he could be read, meditate, and play his beloved music. The simple apartments he and his predecessors had inhabited since the seventeenth century were well suited for that kind of semi-solitude.
But Francis wanted nothing to do with the apartments. Even though he liked the kitchen, he was sure he would go crazy if he lived there. Within days of his election, rumors floated down the hall that Francis would not be moving in. He decided to make his permanent abode the Domus Sanctae Marthae surrounded by clerics, religious, and lay men and women working for the Holy See.
Within walking distance of the Sistine Chapel and Apostolic Palace, the Domus also houses the Cardinals while they are electing a new pope, which is precisely how Cardinal Bergoglio found himself there in the first place in 2013. But not since Pius IX (reigned 1846–1878), who lived in the Quirinal Palace on the other side of Rome, did a pope stay outside the Apostolic Palace.
Hearing of Francis’s decision, those of us working for him in the Apostolic Palace felt abandoned. We felt a close affinity to Benedict while sharing a roof with him. We could go for weeks without seeing him, but we were always there in the background, quietly preparing for every State visit and meticulously attending to every Audience, letter, and speech. Benedict was gracious in acknowledging our contribution to his worldwide mission of leading the Catholic Church and advocating for peace and justice in and between nations.
Now, under Francis, we were left in the dark, not knowing how to prioritize tasks and respond to the flood of requests that filtered through our office. Communication — which, quite honestly, was already weak under Benedict XVI — was now worse and the world began to notice.
Many interpreted Francis’s refusal to live in the Apostolic Palace as a rejection of Vatican wealth and opulence. Nothing could be further from the truth. The papal apartments, though sufficiently spacious, are actually rather stark and uninviting.
Archbishop Georg Gänswein, Cardinal Ratzinger’s long-time secretary, recalls visiting the apartments soon after his boss was elected Benedict XVI. “Once inside, we realized that the apartments smelled like a hospital ward, especially since the windows had been closed for a long time and the carpets had absorbed the odor of the medications John Paul II had been taking during his agonizing illness … there had been no maintenance work for over ten years, to the point that there were two electrical systems of differing voltage, and the ceiling had been outfitted with reservoirs to catch water leaking from the pipes.”
Benedict and Gänswein attempted to make a temporary move into the even less inviting Torre di San Giovanni (Tower of Saint John), located in the Vatican Gardens and renovated for the guests of Pope John XXIII (reigned 1958–1963).
That’s when the game of musical chairs began.
Because the Tower was even worse than the papal apartments. Its insufferable humidity and odd, circular floor plan made it terribly inconvenient. That forced Benedict and Gänswein to move onto the second floor of the Domus Sanctae Marthae. Benedict occupied suite 201, which is precisely where — you guessed it — Francis would end up spending his entire pontificate.
In the meantime, the papal apartments in the Apostolic Palace were completely empty and forgotten.
Until, that is, a colleague of mine — a charming little Franciscan friar — pacing up and down Raphael’s Loggia while composing an important letter in his head, noticed a tiny gray visitor slip under the door and into the apartments. Perhaps Benedict dropped a few crumbs of apple strudel on the floor or left behind an open can of Fanta, but it led the mice to make a peaceful home in the abandoned papal apartments.
So, the inconspicuous but pugnacious friar headed straight to the Substitute’s office (the third in command) to report the sighting.
“Is no one looking after the papal apartments?”
He received nothing but a blank stare.
“Well, do something!” he demanded.
Thanks to that friar, someone was appointed to dust and vacuum the apartment on a regular basis for twelve, long years. Whether that person caught each and every mouse, only Leo will know.
But even with regular cleaning and rodent control, the papal apartment, alas, is still not ready for Leo XIV to move into. But the game of musical chairs is hopefully coming to an end. For while his rooms are being renovated, the new pope and his secretary are residing at the Palazzo Sant’Uffizio in the same apartments where — you guessed it — Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger and his trusty secretary Gänswein had lived before Ratzinger was elected Pope Benedict XVI.
Moral of the story: Wherever you work — even at the highest levels of authority — never assume that someone else has already thought of the obvious. Never make the mistake of thinking you are too unimportant to raise your voice and point out the obvious yourself. For if that little Franciscan friar had not raised his voice, poor Leo XIV would have cut the ribbon and opened the door on a scene worse than my kids’ favorite book, .
