The announcement from the Vatican of “habemus papam!” was a moment of mixed emotions for me. On one hand, we were on our way to Europe and would be in Rome soon enough. Sadly, the Conclave of Cardinals couldn’t wait. The Gospel (good news, after all) is they found a most excellent alternative, and the world was spared from Pope Gonzo I.
We were on a transatlantic cruise, watching a live satellite feed as the white smoke billowed from the temporary chimney atop the Sistine Chapel. Listening to the breathless coverage of talking heads filling time, waiting for the Papal doors to open, I heard one commentator read the lines the protodeacon would say to announce the new Pope. First, the famous “habemus papam,” Latin for “We have a Pope!” Then the statement of the full baptismal name, preceded by the word for Lord, “Dominum.” I listened intently for that keyword, as the protodeacon continued ” . . . Dominum Robertum Franciscum Sanctae Romane Ecclesiae Cardinalem Prevost.” Recognizing the latinization of the American name, I turned to Judy and said, “it’s the American, Prevost!”
Like most of the world, we were shocked. Catholics had generally believed American Cardinals were not “papabile ” (Italian literally for “Pope-able” or more correctly “Pope material”) because it was thought to be unwise to pair American political power with Vatican moral suasion. The Holy Spirit, apparently, thought otherwise.
There will be a rush to assess and even claim Pope Leo XIV; it’s already on. I think we can safely say two things. First, Chicago-style pizza is clearly better than New York-style (at least according to the Holy Spirit. Sorry, Cardinal Dolan). Second, no one knows anything about who Pope Leo XIV is.
Time changes all men. None of us are the same as we were as teenagers, or even as young adults. Careers change people, getting married really changes people, as does having children. But none of these fundamentally changes a man like being elected to the position of “the Servant of the Servants of God,” one of the nine official titles of the Pope. Think about it. You only need to be (1) a man and (2) a Catholic to be Pope (yes, even I am technically qualified). I thought you had to be celibate (i.e., unmarried in Church terminology), but that is only a discipline, meaning it is currently a rule (Bishops cannot be married, and the Pope is Bishop of Rome) but can be changed. Peter himself was married. Yet to accept the blessing/cross and step into the shoes of the fisherman (an unofficial title of the Pope), one must accept that you alone are God’s agent in shepherding his most Holy Church and all its people–in fact all people everywhere, Christian or otherwise–to Heaven. That changes everything.
In the coming days we’ll hear from his brothers (‘we wanted to play hide-n-seek, he wanted to play “priest.”‘), his former parochial school teacher (‘he was a quiet, “A” student’), probably even his first girlfriend (he went into seminary instead of high school, so that’s a long-shot prediction). The priests and faithful from his diocese in Peru will weigh in, as will his fellow Augustinians. Some bishops, too, will recall recent dealings with him. It’s all very interesting, especially for me: we share a faith, a region (Chicagoland), a time (1960s-70s), and a persuasion (expatriates). I haven’t discovered whether he’s a fan of the Fighting Irish, yet, but I remain prayerful it is so.
And it’s all irrelevant, because it’s all about Richard Francis Prevost, and he’s Leo XIV now. He’s not managing the appointment of Bishops anymore, or supervising a diocese or an order. He’s the Vicar of Christ. His say is final on all things of faith and morals, at least for Catholics. And his views on any other subjects require the due respect of all Catholics, and demand consideration around the rest of the world. It may be odd for those who don’t believe in such things, but rest assured, Leo XIV does so believe!
What can we say about the man, Richard Francis Prevost? He is of the Augustinian order, named for those religious who follow a set of rules formulated by the great Catholic theologian Saint Augustine of Hippo. I have to laugh when skeptical, non-believing friends deride theologians as “people who argue about how many angels can dance in the head of a pin.” Perhaps they have never read Saint Augustine, who could have (in fact did) dismiss the arguments of people like Dawkins, Atkins, or Hitchens before lunch without breaking a sweat. The Augustinians are known primarily for their teaching and missionary work. So we should expect a man well-read, well-informed, and down-to-earth.
As an expatriate, then Father/Bishop Prevost spent decades outside the United States, primarily in Peru, where he eventually became an Archbishop. He is fluent in at least Spanish and Italian (probably others), in addition to his native Chicagoan (listen for the “flat a” sound). He is very familiar with the developing world and the different set of challenges therein. No one forgets the world in which they grew up, but some experience other worlds, too. As an expat, he is one of those, and he will have a broader perspective as a result.
Others describe him as an excellent manager. Pope Francis chose him, first to head his order, which is spread around the world, then to head a diocese (in Peru), and finally to head the Dicastery (office) of Bishops in Rome. That’s a lot of trust in his management skills, and must have resulted in success, because that trust kept growing. In the last of those jobs, he was one of three individuals (the others being the Pope and the Vatican Secretary of State) who routinely met with all the Catholic Bishops. Not only was that incredibly important in a Conclave where eighty of the voters were there for the first time and needed name-tags to know who was whom, it tell us something more important. Those voting Cardinals knew him, not just as a name, but as someone with whom they had dealt. I guarantee you if his hallway file (rumor mill) was that he was ambitious, or proud, or hard with which to work, they would not have quickly settled on him. Likewise, the Curia (the permanent bureaucracy in the Vatican) knows him and apparently respects him.
Among Catholic pundits, he had a reputation as doctrinally sound, cautious, yet open to the Spirit. He shared Pope Francis’ love for the poor and marginalized, but none of his predecessor’s impromptu manner. That was good enough to place him squarely in the pro-Francis camp, while not antagonizing those who were more theologically conservative. He staked out very stable, very traditional positions on gay marriage, homosexuality in general, gender issues, and the impossibility of woman deacons or priests. That is his record as Bishop, but remember, as Pope Leo XIV he may change, either way. For all the progressive (political) bluster about Pope Francis, he never varied far from traditional Church teaching. Nor can any Pope, really. Media types and opportunistic activists always overstated the significance of things like Pope Francis’ “who am I to judge” comment.
In case I haven’t written that full story before, here it is:
Quoting Pope Francis for “who am I to judge?’ is like quoting FDR as saying “we have to fear fear, itself.” Why? The quote is truncated in a way that is directly opposite of what was said. The original quote came in relation to a question about a then-serving Vatican priest, who had been accused of being involved in a homosexual relationship many years before. Pope Francis said “If a person is gay and seeks God and has good will, who am I to judge?” The phrase “seeks God and has good will” is left out, but it is not a throw-away line. In Catholic teaching, it means aligning oneself with the teaching of the Church fully and completely. In this case, the priest in question was living a celibate life, rejecting a homosexual “lifestyle.” He demonstrated “good will,” and thus the Pope was very doctrinally sound in saying “who am I to judge?” But of course this was very consistent with Catholic teaching (‘hate the sin, not the sinner’) and did not represent any change at all in Catholic doctrine.
People will pore over Pope Leo XIV’s opening words and actions for clues as to where he intends to lead the Church. He wore traditional Papal garments, not Francis’ humble ones. He first mentioned Christ, always a preferred reference point for Holy Fathers. He repeatedly mentioned pacem (peace), so there’s one theme. He specifically praised Pope Francis and Synodality, the openness of the Church to new forms of governance, so that will continue, albeit possibly with some changes. He mentioned bridge-building, which is de rigeur for a man with the title Pontifex Maximus (Supreme Builder of Bridges). He finished off asking for grace from the Blessed Virgin Mary, completing a full tour of Catholic doctrinal touch points. Omitting any of these things would have been noticeable; including them less so.
Some will also ponder the meaning of the Papal name: Leo XIV. What does that mean? Like so many things, it is best to wait, as he will probably explain why he chose that name. Pope Leo XIII (Pope 1878-1803) was famous for following a divisive Pope Pius IX, and he brought normality and peace to the Church and world. He issued a very foundational encyclical called Rerum Novarum that established Catholic doctrinal support for workers, unions, fair wages, and decent working conditions, yet also established the equally important principal of subsidiarity, the notion that solutions must be enacted by the lowest possible decision-level (one often overlooked by Catholics supporting large government programs). The new “American” Pope chose the same name as a namesake who coined a unique heresy called “Americanism,” which we know today as “cafeteria Catholics” (i.e., choosing which sets of doctrinal rules to obey, or “being a Pope of one’s self”). Who are we to judge? 🙂
Before the “extra omnes” (Latin for “Everybody out” as the Conclave began, and I want to open a new email account with that address), informed observers noted the Church was riven between those who wish to push forward with even more changes “in the spirit of Vatican II” and those who wish to reconsider the ecumenical council against a “hermeneutic of continuity.” If those terms sound confusing, don’t worry, they are Church terms meaning, roughly, theological progressives and conservatives (not to be confused with political ones). But that divide had many cross currents.
Everybody loved Pope Francis’ way of reaching out to the poor, his humanity. His brusque demeanor with priests or Bishops with whom he disagreed? Not so much. Most agreed with opening up the Church to new insights and perspectives, but not those which directly question core (i.e., non-negotiable) tenets of the faith. And no one benefited from doctrine tossed out like quips on airplane flights. For the past twelve years, some who study the Church have sought to discover “a Francis effect,” meaning tangible evidence the Pope’s message was resonating in a way which fostered more, deeper, Catholic faith. It was never found. The Church grew rapidly in the parts of the world with the most conservative/orthodox leaders, even in portions of the United States. While the Pope received plaudits from former Catholics and legacy media (e.g., the New York Times), it never translated to butts-in-the-pews. A recent (anonymous) survey of new Catholic priests in America couldn’t find a single new priest who cited Pope Francis for fostering his vocation, while many still cited former Pope Benedict and Saint Pope John Paul II.
So what would I predict? I think the Conclave electors sought someone who can manage the Vatican, which has serious financial and organizational challenges. That may seem small or petty, but it’s a serious issue, and no one else can do it. I think they wanted someone who could continue Pope Francis’ legacy of welcoming all, while insisting on the Truths of the Catholic Faith as handed down by the Church. It has to be both. I think they wanted a leader who was not just open to new voices, but also heard the voices of his fellow Bishops. I can’t imagine how hard it was to sit in a listening session at the recent Synod, forty years of canonical experience and deep theological reflection behind you, and get lectured by someone in jeans and a t-shirt about what Jesus really meant when he chose men to be his apostles. The Church has a long history of laypeople speaking out, even correcting Popes, but not every lay person is Saint Catherine of Siena! Finally, I think the Cardinals wanted someone who would speak the truth fearlessly, but not extemporaneously. Catholic doctrine is hard enough to teach, harder still to understand, dreadfully challenging to live by. Making it sound less certain is worse for all concerned.
What do I think? The electors got exactly what they asked for. The Holy Spirit is funny that way. We all do well to follow where it leads.