A Pilgrim's Progress

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The last glimpse of him high above the square became the latest in an album of images he left behind: a kiss on the tarmac in each new city; a smile lit by love and certainty; a white robe stained red by a would-be assassin's bullet, and the public forgiveness that followed; a challenge thrown down before prisoners and Presidents, sinners and saints to heed the highest calling of their hearts. He was the first Pope ever to visit a mosque, or launch a website, or commemorate the Holocaust at Auschwitz or find in a broken world so many saints of the church--more saints, in fact, than all his predecessors combined. Master of a dozen languages, he was the first modern Pope to visit Egypt, Spain, Canada, Cuba, Ireland or Brazil, the equivalent of circling the globe 31 times. To half the world's people, he was the only Pope they have ever known, or mourned. Thus the prayers came not just from the Catholic faithful but also from Muslims in France and Jews at Jerusalem's Western Wall and from believers across Eastern Europe who before his crusade against tyranny would have had to mourn him in secret. Even those who disagreed with his goals were touched by his goodness and came out to honor the man who made history itself kneel down.

Now attention turns to the College of Cardinals, whose 117 voting members began to stream into Rome from 52 countries to pay their respects and write the next chapter of the church's history. Later this month they will meet in the Sistine Chapel, already swept for hidden microphones, to choose the next Pontiff. There will be plenty of intrigue in the days to come: "The battles to take care of everyone's own interests have been abounding," a Roman Curia Cardinal told TIME. But in the final days many were struck by the sudden transparency of the Vatican's thick walls. Reports on the Pope's condition were clear and regular; the press office was open around the clock. It was as though church officials were following his instructions not to miss the opportunity embedded in grief.

It is of some comfort, when we wait for those we love to die, to celebrate the way they lived. For Christians this is a season of mystery and grace, and during the final days, John Paul II gave his people one last gift: the message of his visible pain and transcendent love, like a bell ringing out over St. Peter's Square, clear and resounding as it carried up to heaven. --With reporting by Jeff Israely and Giancarlo Zizola/Rome