By Pope Francis
I read with emotion these pages born from the thought and affection of Angelo Scola, dear brother in the episcopate and a person who has held delicate roles in the Church, such as having been rector of the Pontifical Lateran University, later Patriarch of Venice, and Archbishop of Milan.
First of all, I want to express my deep gratitude to him for this reflection that combines personal experience and cultural sensitivity in a way I have rarely encountered. One — experience — enlightens the other — culture; the second gives substance to the first. In this happy interweaving, life and culture blossom with beauty.
Let not the short form of this book be deceptive: these are very dense pages, to read and reread. From Angelo Scola’s reflections I gather some particularly resonant points with what my own experience has taught me. Angelo Scola speaks to us of old age — his old age — which he writes about with a disarmingly intimate touch: “it came upon me with sudden acceleration and in many ways unexpectedly.”
Already in his choice of the word with which he defines himself — “old” — I find a resonance with the author. Yes, we must not be afraid of old age, we must not fear embracing becoming old, because life is life, and sugarcoating reality means betraying the truth of things. Restoring pride to a term too often considered unhealthy is a gesture for which we should be grateful to Cardinal Scola.
Because to say “old” does not mean “to be discarded,” as a degraded culture of waste sometimes leads us to think. Saying “old” instead means saying experience, wisdom, knowledge, discernment, thoughtfulness, listening, slowness… Values of which we are in great need!
It is true, one becomes old, but this is not the problem: the problem is how one becomes old. If we live this time of life as a grace, and not with resentment; if we accept the time (even a long one) in which we experience diminished strength, the increasing fatigue of the body, the reflexes no longer what they were in our youth — with a sense of gratitude and thankfulness — well then, old age too becomes an age of life which, as Romano Guardini taught us, is truly fruitful and capable of radiating goodness.
Angelo Scola highlights the human and social value of grandparents. I have often emphasized how the role of grandparents is of fundamental importance for the balanced development of the young, and ultimately for a more peaceful society. Because their example, their words, their wisdom can instill in the young a far-sighted vision, the memory of the past, and the anchoring in values that endure.
Amid the frenzy of our societies, often devoted to the ephemeral and the unhealthy taste for appearances, the wisdom of grandparents becomes a shining beacon, shedding light on uncertainty and providing direction to grandchildren, who can draw from their experience something “extra” for their daily lives.
The words that Angelo Scola dedicates to the theme of suffering, which often takes hold in becoming old, and consequently to death, are precious gems of faith and hope. In the reflections of this brother bishop, I hear echoes of the theology of Hans Urs von Balthasar and Joseph Ratzinger — a theology “done on one’s knees,” steeped in prayer and in dialogue with the Lord.
This is why I said earlier that these are pages born “from the thought and the affection” of Cardinal Scola: not only from thought, but also from the emotional dimension, which is the one to which Christian faith points, since Christianity is not so much an intellectual act or a moral choice, but rather the affection for a person — that Christ who came to meet us and decided to call us friends.
It is precisely the conclusion of these pages by Angelo Scola — a heartfelt confession of how he is preparing himself for the final encounter with Jesus — that gives us a consoling certainty: death is not the end of everything, but the beginning of something. It is a new beginning, as the title wisely highlights, because eternal life — which those who love already begin to experience on earth within the daily tasks of life — is beginning something that will never end.
And it is precisely for this reason that it is a “new” beginning, because we will live something we have never fully lived before: eternity.
With these pages in hand, I would ideally like to repeat the same gesture I made just after donning the white robe of the papacy in the Sistine Chapel: to embrace with great esteem and affection my brother Angelo — now, both of us older than we were on that day in March 2013. But still united by the gratitude to this loving God who offers us life and hope at every age of our living, Vatican News writes.
Vatican City, February 7, 2025
