-By LeN Religious Correspondent
(Lanka-e-News -08.May.2025, 11.05 PM) Vatican City, The chimneys of the Sistine Chapel billowed white smoke at precisely 5:03pm local time, the age-old symbol that the Catholic Church had chosen its new shepherd. Moments later, a jubilant Cardinal Dominique Mamberti stepped onto the loggia of St Peter’s Basilica and uttered the hallowed words: “Habemus Papam!”
Cheers erupted across St Peter’s Square, which had already been teeming with thousands of faithful and curious onlookers, waving flags, clutching rosaries, and staring skywards in anxious anticipation. A palpable tremor swept through the crowd as it was revealed that the newly elected pontiff—after two days and five rounds of voting—was Robert Francis Prevost, an American cardinal hailing from Chicago. He will be known as Pope Leo XIV, the 267th successor to Saint Peter and the spiritual leader of the world’s 1.3 billion Roman Catholics.
It is a moment of historic significance. For the first time in its two-millennia-long history, the Chair of Peter will be occupied by a man born in the United States of America—a nation often seen by European Catholics as devout yet distant from the traditionalist currents of Roman orthodoxy. “An American?” whispered pilgrims in the square. “Leon! Leon!” came the thunderous chant in the wake of his name.
Leo XIV, 69, is a member of the Order of St. Augustine and until recently served as Prefect of the Dicastery for Bishops. Soft-spoken, theologically rooted, and with a reputation for clerical reform and pastoral sensitivity, he has been described by colleagues as a "bridge-builder" in a church wrestling with globalisation, scandal, and growing secularism.
From the balcony overlooking the square, Pope Leo XIV emerged in the traditional white cassock, his new papal stole draped around his shoulders, and with a modest smile—almost bashful. After a long moment of silence, he raised his hand and delivered his first blessing Urbi et Orbi — to the city and to the world. “Let us begin this journey together, brothers and sisters,” he said in Italian. “With trust, with mercy, and with hope.”
The conclave that elected him was one of quiet determination. 117 cardinal-electors gathered behind the sealed doors of the Sistine Chapel on Tuesday afternoon. According to Vatican insiders, the first few ballots yielded little consensus, with support divided between Latin American and African candidates. But as the votes narrowed, it became clear that Cardinal Prevost’s moderate, steady persona—unmarred by scandal and respected on both progressive and traditionalist wings—was gaining traction.
A senior Vatican observer commented: “What the College wanted was a unifier. Someone who could continue the pastoral reforms of Francis, but also bring doctrinal clarity. Prevost was seen as that rare blend.”
His election was reportedly clinched in the fifth round on Thursday morning. By early afternoon, the ceremonial preparations had begun. The Dean of the College of Cardinals, Giovanni Battista Re, approached him and asked the traditional question: “Do you accept your canonical election as Supreme Pontiff?”
Prevost replied with the customary Latin: “Accepto.”
The choice of the regnal name Leo is itself symbolic. It invokes the memory of Pope Leo XIII—the 19th-century pontiff known for Rerum Novarum, a landmark social encyclical that laid the foundation for modern Catholic social teaching. Leo XIII championed the rights of workers, the dignity of labour, and the moral role of the Church in an industrialising world. By assuming the title Leo XIV, Prevost has signalled his desire to steer the Church towards a renewed engagement with justice, labour, and economic ethics in a globalised 21st century.
It may also be a subtle gesture toward Pope Leo the Great, the fifth-century pontiff who persuaded Attila the Hun to spare Rome. In a time of spiritual siege—marked by moral disillusionment, ecological crisis, and geopolitical tumult—Leo XIV may see himself called to a similar mission of mediation and courage.
Born in 1955 in Chicago, Prevost entered the Augustinian Order in his youth and earned doctorates in theology and canon law from the Catholic University of Louvain in Belgium. He later taught in Peru, where he became fluent in Spanish and immersed himself in the realities of liberation theology and Latin American pastoral work. “He understands both the slums and the seminaries,” said one Peruvian priest who worked under him.
Returning to Rome, he rose through the curial ranks, eventually being named by Pope Francis as Prefect for Bishops—a crucial post that gave him significant sway over the appointment of diocesan leaders across the globe. His tenure was marked by an emphasis on transparency, consultation with local laity, and careful vetting procedures—qualities sorely needed in the post-McCarrick era.
Within the Apostolic Palace, there was visible relief. Many Vatican officials feared a backlash to Francis’ reforms might result in the election of a staunch reactionary. Leo XIV, while doctrinally orthodox, has been seen as a consensus figure. One senior monsignor remarked: “He respects the magisterium but doesn’t weaponise it.”
Indeed, observers note that his appointment may stabilise a Church that has recently wrestled with fierce debates—on the role of women, same-sex unions, priestly celibacy, and the synodal path in Germany.
Outside the Vatican walls, the mood was electric. Pilgrims from Mexico, Poland, Uganda, and the Philippines waved banners and sang hymns as the golden hour bathed the square in a celestial glow. Many of them, young and old, had camped for hours—some even days—waiting for the outcome.
“I brought my whole youth group from Texas,” said Maria Gonzales, 34, who wiped away tears as she looked at the balcony. “I never imagined I would see an American Pope in my lifetime. He makes me feel seen.”
In Kinshasa, where Catholicism is booming, Father Jacques Mbala noted on a livestream: “We hope Leo XIV will continue Francis’ focus on Africa and the global South. We have our wounds. We need healing.”
The appointment is not without sceptics. Some traditionalists grumbled at his perceived lack of doctrinal combativeness. In corners of the curia, murmurs circulated about whether an American could truly grasp the Vatican’s intricate diplomatic language or navigate the European episcopate with finesse.
But Leo XIV’s global experience—his command of six languages, his American roots, and Latin American heart—may be exactly what the Church needs now.
The new Pope’s agenda will be formidable. He inherits a Church grappling with internal division, declining vocations in the West, and increasing persecution in parts of the Middle East and Africa. He will also have to continue overseeing reforms in Vatican finance, the curia, and clerical accountability.
Environmental stewardship, already a Franciscan hallmark, is likely to feature prominently. So too is outreach to the world’s youth, many of whom view the Church as out of touch. Insiders say that Pope Leo is likely to prioritise a new global synod on “Faith in the Digital Age,” exploring how AI, social media, and technological shifts are transforming spiritual life.
In the meantime, the Pope has reportedly chosen to remain in the Casa Santa Marta, the modest Vatican hotel where Pope Francis lived, rather than moving into the opulent Apostolic Palace. “He wants to be close to the people,” said a spokesman. “He wants to listen.”
As the white smoke rose, bells tolled in honour of Pope Emeritus Francis, whose quiet passing last month set the conclave in motion. From Argentina to Assisi, tributes poured in for the man who shattered centuries of papal precedent—living simply, travelling lightly, and preaching relentlessly about the peripheries.
By choosing a like-minded successor, the College of Cardinals has ensured that the “Francis effect” will not be buried with him. In many ways, Leo XIV may be seen as Francis’ second breath—a continuation of a papacy rooted not in power, but in service.
As darkness fell over Rome, the square slowly emptied. Nuns folded their plastic chairs. Priests embraced. Children waved tiny Vatican flags under the soft orange lamps. Overhead, the Apostolic Palace glowed, and from its balcony, the red velvet still fluttered in the breeze.
Inside, Leo XIV prayed quietly before the tomb of Peter. A fisherman from Galilee, now watched over by a fisherman from Chicago.
A new chapter has begun.
-By LeN Religious Correspondent
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by (2025-05-08 17:42:55)
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