OOn May 8, I was standing on the colonnades of Place Saint-Pierre the magnificent afternoon, a new pope was elected, shoulder in the shoulder with pilgrims from all over the globe. The roar that broke out when the white smoke has extinguished from the sixtine chapel chimney is something that I will never forget.
The earth under my feet trembled while the bells of the old basilica jerky. And then the announcement: the unknown Robert Francis Prevost had been elected vicar of Jesus Christ.
Silence – Everything. “WHO?” Asked an elderly nun next to me.
Too confident in my Latin skills and my biographical knowledge of the 133 cardinal voters, I exclaimed: “Robert, sister! He is from America – he is one of us.” The cardinals-electors had chosen a midwesterner to be the successor of Saint Peter.
While the bells of Saint -Pierre were hiding and the red velvet curtains separated on the balcony, we knew that we saw the dawn of a new era for the church – and, in some respects, for America too.
For the first time, the most famous American in the world is not the president or a Hollywood icon or a technological billionaire – this is the Pope.
It is more than a Catholic triumph; It is a cultural watershed for the United States. In a society that is often equivalent to American influence to power or money or fame, our first representative on the world scene is now a humble man in a white dress, preaching love, justice and mercy.
Find out more: Pope Leo XIV goes on the world scene
Back in the United States, the news of an American pope sparked a wave of excitement – and a race to claim it to our image. In a few hours, politicians on both sides of the aisle applauded the elections of the new pontiff, each with their partisan subtext. Progressive Democrats have underlined his solid assessment of social justice, immigrant rights and poverty, hoping to launch it as one of their own. Conservative republicans, on the other hand, underlined his Orthodox Catholic positions on issues such as abortion and religious freedom, eager to claim spiritual approval of their platform. (Although some in the Maga quota are apparently ready to Criticize it Already.) This shot against war to politically appropriate the Pope was perhaps inevitable.
However, it is missing the brand of which is really Pope Leo XIV. Like any good priest, he will comfort And Defuse us all, whatever the policy.
In the Vatican circles, the beginning of the consensus is that Pope Leo XIV can become to Pope Francis what Paul VI was to John XXIII, or what Benoît XVI was to John Paul II. In other words, he is considered a man who can bring a tangible structure, discipline and reforms to consolidate the prophetic vision of his predecessor. Pope Francis has lit an evangelical fire in the conscience of the Church in the last decade, preaching the peripheries, the mercy and the management of the poor.
Find out more: Pope Francis's greatest success was to focus on mercy
Pope Leo, a lawyer calm with years of experience in governance, seems to play well for this role. His work is now to take the best ideals of Francis and hammer them in a sustainable policy. If Francis was the dreamer, Leo will be the Doer.
For all high historical comparisons, sometimes the ordinary of this moment is what strikes me the most. After the white smoke emerged and the crowd derived from the hymns singing, I did something completely banal: I released my phone and I pulled a text to an old contact that I had in my phone from a decade. Except that this old contact is now the Pope.
I leafed through, hitting the shipment with a mixture of dizzying disbelief and pride. Almost immediately, the message bubble became green, unrevable.
Of course, this is the case. Father Bob had exchanged his iPhone for the fisherman's ring, and his private cell number was probably disabled by the Vatican in the minutes of Habemus Papam.
I laughed at thinking that I could simply send an SMS to the pope, but the impulse itself says a lot: we, the Americans, are used to our leaders to be a tap, and for a while, I forgot that my compatriot on the balcony was now a universal pastor with a completely different life.
However, the very fact that the new pope had A number in my contact list testifies to its accessibility and its American.
For an American Catholic like me, this hint of shared culture is both charming and reassuring. This reminds us that papacy is not an abstract institution; He is held by a person, and now this person is from our own ribs.
The election of Pope Leo instantly made the Vatican rituals to feel a touch more familiar to Americans – and perhaps made the idea that holiness felt more feasible.
Beyond novelty and pride, many of us turn to this new pope with a deeper desire: could this be a moment of moral and institutional renewal for America? It is not a secret for anyone that our country has been cruelly divided in recent years. We have endured deadly political battles, a crisis of truth and civility, even an insurrection and the continuous temptation of authoritarian policy. Confidence in institutions is a historical hollow; The religious communities themselves are torn apart by conflicts. The Americans, in short, are hungry for healing – a restoration of integrity in our public life and our compassion in our communities
In this context, the first American pope feels providential. Who better than an American, imbued with the ideals of Freedom under GodTo remind the world that faith and freedom stand together against solitude and isolationism?
Do not be surprised if he quickly uses his moral pulpit to reject gently, but firmly, against the siren song of authoritarian leaders – whether on the international scene or hiding in our internal policy. His voice, coming from an American who cannot be rejected as “anti-American”, could uniquely rally the consciousness of our people. At the very least, his example of the leadership of the servants – a priority the poor, dialogue of adversaries, renouncing worldain – is an antidote very necessary for the grabs of cynical power to which we have used.
Without rehabilitating the division of that time too much, it is fair to say that it is a moment when the image of America was often linked to strong and combative nationalism and a cult of personality. What a poetic, then, that when we turn the page, the projectors of the world move to an American known for a calm service and a spiritual depth. The ascent of Pope Leo XIV does not have the difficulties of our nation, but it offers a new story for what American leadership can mean.
This suggests that the greatest export in America may not be our entertainment or our armament, but our capacity for idealism and moral vision.
