"Under Her Gaze": Feast of the Dedication of the Basilica of St Mary Major

I

still vividly remember my first experience of being left alone in the mission parish of Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe in Cabanglasan, Bukidnon, where I was assigned as assistant parish priest. My brother Jesuit, the parish priest, who usually prepared our dinner, had gone on an eight-day retreat, leaving me to manage on my own.

During the day, meals weren’t a problem—we would usually eat in the chapels after celebrating Mass. But in the evening, the solitude of the mission house began to settle in. One night, tired and craving something more than the usual canned goods, I realized I needed something real—something cooked, something that tasted like home.

I opened the freezer and saw squid. And with it came a memory—my mom’s sweet and sour squid, a childhood favorite. On impulse, I texted her in the US asking for the recipe. It was very early morning for her, but she replied almost instantly with detailed instructions. That night, in the quiet of the mission kitchen, I cooked the dish. Somehow, it turned out well. The taste brought me home.

That simple meal fed more than my body. It reminded me that even in solitude, I was not truly alone. I had a mother who watched over me, even from afar.

And I imagine that Jesus, in his humanity, experienced this too. According to the Gospel of John, it was Mary who urged him to begin his public mission at Cana, and Mary who remained with him at the foot of the Cross. She was likely present at that last Passover—Jesus’ final family meal. Her presence—quiet, steadfast, unshaken—must have meant everything to him. Like every child who longs for home, Jesus found in his mother a place of constancy and trust.

Today we celebrate the Feast of the Dedication of the Basilica of St Mary Major in Rome—the oldest Marian church in the West, the only papal basilica never destroyed, and the only one dedicated to the Virgin Mother. It holds the relic of the Holy Cradle—the manger that tradition says cradled the Christ child. This is the same basilica where St Ignatius of Loyola celebrated his first Christmas Mass in 1538.

This basilica also holds another tender legacy: the remains of the late Pope Francis. He visited the basilica126 times during his 12-year pontificate: His first visit was on 14 March 2013, the day after his election; his last was on 12 April 2025, just before Holy Week.

Cardinal Rolandas Makrickas, assistant archpriest of the Basilica of St Mary Major, explained that the Pope’s decision took shape gradually. It all began during a meeting on 13 May 2022, the Feast of Our Lady of Fatima. “I asked him, since he visited the Basilica so often, if he had considered being buried there,” the Cardinal recalled. Initially, the Pope declined, noting that Popes are usually buried in St Peter’s. “But a week later, the Pope called me and said, ‘The Madonna spoke to me: Prepare your tomb.’ And then he added that he was happy because ‘She hasn’t forgotten me.’” The Pope then instructed, “Find a place for my tomb. I want to be buried here.”

Francis gave specific instructions in his testament dated 29 June 2022:

Miserando atque Eligendo

In the name of the Most Holy Trinity. Amen.

As I sense the approaching twilight of my earthly life, and with firm hope in eternal life, I wish to set out my final wishes solely regarding the place of my burial.

Throughout my life, and during my ministry as a priest and bishop, I have always entrusted myself to the Mother of Our Lord, the Blessed Virgin Mary. For this reason, I ask that my mortal remains rest - awaiting the day of the Resurrection - in the Papal Basilica of Saint Mary Major.

I wish my final earthly journey to end precisely in this ancient Marian sanctuary, where I would always stop to pray at the beginning and end of every Apostolic Journey, confidently entrusting my intentions to the Immaculate Mother, and giving thanks for her gentle and maternal care.

I ask that my tomb be prepared in the burial niche in the side aisle between the Pauline Chapel (Chapel of the Salus Populi Romani) and the Sforza Chapel of the Basilica, as shown in the attached plan.

The tomb should be in the ground; simple, without particular ornamentation, bearing only the inscription: Franciscus.

The cost of preparing the burial will be covered by a sum provided by a benefactor, which I have arranged to be transferred to the Papal Basilica of Saint Mary Major. I have given the necessary instructions regarding this to Cardinal Rolandas Makrickas, Extraordinary Commissioner of the Liberian Basilica.

May the Lord grant a fitting reward to all those who have loved me and who continue to pray for me. The suffering that has marked the final part of my life, I offer to the Lord, for peace in the world and for fraternity among peoples.

The Madonna granted the last earthly wish of Pope Francis. It was simple: “The Madonna told me: Prepare your tomb. And I was happy… because She hasn’t forgotten me.”

Now he lies under that icon, under the gaze of the Mother who never forgets.

The scene from The Passion of the Christ captures this maternal gaze so powerfully. As Jesus falls on the way to Calvary, Mary rushes to him and says only three words: “I’m here.” Words that do not try to fix or explain, but simply to accompany. Words that mean everything.

“I’m here.” That’s what Mary said to Jesus. That’s what she says to us. That is the meaning of resting in peace: to be under the gaze of a Mother who stays, who loves, who remembers.

It’s the same gaze I felt in that mission house kitchen, when my mom sent her recipe without delay. It’s the same gaze we all long for in our moments of hunger, fatigue, and loneliness.

As we honor this basilica today, may we renew our devotion to Mary—not just as a theological idea, but as a real mother who says to each of us: “I’m here.” And may we learn to say the same to others—to be that gaze, that presence, that sanctuary of peace. Amen. Fr JM Manzano SJ