Smells Like a Holy Spirit
Final rites before eternal entombment in a basilica’s wall.A few days ago, the world marked the passing of Pope Francis — a man known for his humility and unwavering concern for the poor and marginalized.
As millions mourn and watch the Vatican rituals unfold — the lying in state, the ornate vestments, the endless liturgical choreography — one may be forgiven for letting their mind wander off and entertaining slightly irreverent questions.
So... I wonder how sanitary is it, really, to entomb a corpse inside a church wall?
Keep calm and burn incense#
After the grand finale, most of us will end up either burned and pulverised into fine ash — or stashed two metres underground, with grass above our skulls and squirrels for company. But not everyone. Take a stroll through any respectable cathedral and you'll notice that beneath your feet — or tucked behind a marble wall — lie the remains of bishops, popes, and other privileged dead from bygone eras.
This curious tradition of stuffing the blessed into sacred architecture inevitably raises questions — and not just theological ones. Even encased in a sealed coffin, the human body will follow nature’s course: creeping odours, seeping fluids, and a thriving menagerie of germs. Incense may veil the scent, but it won’t halt the decay.
VIP pass to heaven#
Across pre-modern societies, intramural burial was common — not just in churches, but also inside homes, city walls, and other everyday buildings.
For the Christians, being buried inside a church — rather than just somewhere nearby — was the ultimate spiritual upgrade. It was the ecclesiastical equivalent of flashing a divine pass and skipping the queue at the Pearly Gates. The closer your bones lay to the altar, a saint’s relics, or the epicentre of liturgy, the better your odds (so the thinking went) of fast-tracking your way to eternal bliss.
But the heavenly real estate soon grew crowded. So came the vertical expansion: crypts carved underground, tombs tucked into walls, and coffins laid beneath marble floors — the names of the buried gradually worn smooth by centuries of pious foot traffic. The prime plots were reserved for the spiritual and social elite: clergy, martyrs, noblemen — and anyone wealthy enough to pay for a premium spot.
A health inspector’s nightmare#
Before a body is enshrined in church masonry, it’s usually placed in a sealed coffin — sometimes with metal linings — to contain decomposition and prevent contamination. The crypt or wall chamber may be ventilated and isolated, ensuring that no unpleasant odours or airborne microbes drift up to mingle with the congregation. In theory, at least.
In practice, seals fail, vents achieve little, and stone is far less impervious than it appears. The idea of storing human remains in the same enclosed space as the living sounds like stuff from a health inspector’s nightmare.
Me too, in stone forever#
These days, churches are among the only places where one may still be laid to rest indoors — a rare privilege, though not exactly a sanitary one.
But why stop there? Why not extend the privilege to other buildings? What about entombing dear Auntie Marge in the living room wall?
It’s easy to imagine a movement catching on:
"Eternal tenants welcome — enjoy premium solid-wall burial slots in a quiet private residence. Immaculate insulation. Incense optional. No resurrection deadline."
The possibilities seem endless. Family reunions without leaving the house, no dreary trips to the cemetery. A sense of history literally built into your walls.
Of course, there are a few details to consider before inviting the corpses to our homes. Hygiene, for one. And perhaps the small matter of explaining to weekend visitors that the guest bedroom wall contains its previous owners and their pets.
Selling property might also get awkward:
"Spacious two-bedroom apartment with bathtub, original wood floors, and a grandfather lovingly entombed in the western wall."
In the end, there is still something reassuring about cemeteries: trees, stones, fresh air — a safe distance between us and the dead. And nobody leaking through the wallpaper!
Sealed with grace#
Earlier today, it was Pope Francis's turn to receive the holy wall treatment.
Not in the Vatican, as tradition would have it, but in Santa Maria Maggiore — a basilica near Rome’s chaotic Termini station and just a few souvenir stalls away from the Colosseum. Francis visited it more than a hundred times during his papacy and, inspired by a lifelong devotion to the Virgin Mary, chose it a few years ago as his final resting place.
Now — and presumably for centuries to come — his body rests there, sealed inside a simple zinc-lined wooden coffin. No trio of nesting caskets in cypress, lead, and oak like his predecessors. A quiet new addition to the church's architecture: a marble slab marked simply "FRANCISCVS" and a small cross. Next to seven other popes. And a steady flow of worshippers, pilgrims, and selfie sticks.
But even the most sanctified corpse doesn’t decompose gracefully. Inside that zinc shell, Pope Francis — like all of us eventually — is now producing a gentle bouquet of methane, ammonia, hydrogen sulfide, and those greatest hits of decay chemistry: cadaverine and putrescine. These gases can corrode metal, inflate coffins, and — if sufficiently ambitious — search creative escape routes.
So the next time you visit Santa Maria Maggiore, pause for a moment in front of the marble. Reflect on the humility in the flicker of candlelight. Try not to picture the restless ferment at work behind the decor. And savour the blended scent of holy spirits, aged to perfection.
- https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pope_Francis
- https://x.com/VaticanNews/status/1915868745328726243
- Thousands line Rome's streets as Pope Francis laid to rest after Vatican funeral
- A simple wooden coffin amidst extraordinary opulence
- Images of Pope Francis's tomb released
- The church Pope Francis kept returning to - and chose as his final resting place
- Intramural burial
ENGLISH ARTICLEOCTOBER 20, 2018 AT 01:46:40 UTC