Vatican City State -  There is no longer a trace of Jesus Christ in St. Peter’s Basilica. When the sign of the cross becomes a logo, prayer a background soundtrack, and the pilgrim an obstacle to a social experiment, then perhaps it’s time to look up – and not towards the dome, but towards those who have turned it into this. The decline began in 2021, with the appointment of Mauro Gambetti as head of the Basilica, promoted through a handy dose of “Franciscanism 4.0” and with an ecclesiastical career faster than an algorithm. Since then, what should be the beating heart of Christendom has become a disturbing hybrid between a suburban conference center and a Microsoft showroom. All this disguised as “pastoral innovation.” Translation? Screens, sensors, badges, cocktail events, segregated entrances, and – of course – tickets for sale.

The Basilica today is the stage for a social experiment conducted at the expense of the faithful. While pilgrims are treated as flows to optimize and tourists as mobile wallets, Gambetti builds his ecotech-spiritual narrative, forgetting just one detail: Christ. He no longer appears in speeches, in priorities, or in sacred spaces. He has been replaced by “green” exhibits, interactive tours, and projects with corporate partners. We wouldn’t be surprised if, a few months from now, they launched a St. Peter’s Basilica in augmented reality. That way, the faithful could weep before a 3D simulation of the Crucifix, while the real one remains hidden behind curtains in crumbling chapels.

The decline, however, isn’t only spiritual. It’s also administrative. Gambetti brought along a small army of friends and acquaintances from Assisi, for whom he created positions, salaries, and temporary assignments.

Alongside the controversial couple brought into the Vatican by Mauro Gambetti—after faithfully serving him at the Basilica of St. Francis in Assisi—stands Alberto Capitanucci. A former member of the Democratic Party and local councillor in Assisi, Capitanucci is remembered less for his public achievements than for his impeccably timed, strategically convenient resignations. In 2023, as if by magic, he exited local politics amid scandals and controversy, only to reappear shortly after with a new position at the Fabbrica di San Pietro. What qualifies him to manage the heart of Christendom? That, evidently, remains a mystery of faith.

As of today, Capitanucci has resigned – again – from his role as Head of the Technical Area, after drilling through ancient walls to install sensors and corporate-sponsored tech. But no worries: Gambetti has already reassigned him. Because at St. Peter’s, if you’re in the right circle, no one ever really ends up unemployed. Too bad the one footing the bill isn’t the Holy Spirit, but faithful pilgrims and tourists, who now must visit a church that looks less and less like a church.

Behind every press conference, every booming announcement about innovation, hides a questionable managementmarked by cronyism, architectural neglect, and waste of resources. Costs soar, contracts always go to the same people, and the faithful are sidelined. Anyone who dares to speak up is accused of being “against change” or, worse, of “not understanding the vision.” Yet it would be enough to ask those who enter St. Peter’s today with faith in their hearts and leave confused, disturbed, wounded. All of this, during the so-called Jubilee of Hope.

But the problem isn’t just Gambetti. The real problem is who put him there, who propped him up at all costs, who pretended not to see for years. And so the final question is inevitable: How long will it take before someone realizes that the sacred is being played with at St. Peter’s? How long before it is acknowledged that the Basilica is not a start-up incubator for friends, but a holy place? As long as the answer remains “we’ve become more modern”, we will continue to lose the only Guest who truly matters: God. In the meantime, between a badge scan and a fast-track ticket, St. Francis watches in silence. And he’s probably turning in his grave.

d.C.T.
Silere non possum