Habemus Papam

I'll admit to getting caught up in all the excitement. Watching the news hour by hour for the white smoke to appear out of that wooden cabin-looking tin pipe atop the Sistine Chapel. It probably has something to do with the fact that I've been sick in bed for the past six days. But good TV is good TV, and what a showstopper at the end: the election of an American pontiff.

That seemed to come out of nowhere. Another first in our lifetime. I put it up there with the election of an African-American as President of the United States, which I never thought I'd see—well ahead of the election of the first convicted felon as President. You always imagine the occupant of the Vatican as someone who represents the Old World, not the New. Someone European, or—like the Argentinian Francis—someone who grew up speaking a European language and belonged to a soccer club. You don’t expect a man who spoke in Midwestern slang, rode the "L" train, listened to Studs Terkel on the radio, and cheered for the White Sox.

It’s hard not to juxtapose the two American world figures in your mind: Leo XIV, who spent his career working with the poor of Peru and now leads over a billion Catholics, and the narcissistic felon in the Oval Office who leads MAGA. Could the contrast be any greater? I dearly hope Leo understands how powerful that contrast can be if it's properly and strategically exploited.

It’s happened before—a pope leveraging his position on the world stage to effect meaningful global change. Popes who played it safe in the face of political turmoil have not fared well in history. For example, Pius XII, who was pope during World War II, has been witheringly criticized for his failure to confront the Holocaust with force or clarity. But others understood their historical moment. Pope John Paul II, for instance, was not only one of the most beloved figures of his era, but also an active political force: a voice against South African Apartheid, and an instrumental figure in the downfall of Communism in Eastern Europe.

Leo XIV is inheriting a world in duress—politically, economically, environmentally, and spiritually. I hope he understands the weight of that inheritance. We should begin to see his vision take shape soon, as he begins to plan visits to his global flock. A return visit to his home country should be high on the list. A papal visit to the United States—especially under its current political leadership—could prove more than symbolic. It could be catalytic. The attention, the crowds, the stark contrast in values—it would drive Trump mad.

We live in an age when moral clarity is rare and cynicism reigns. But history has shown that when the right figure steps onto the stage at the right moment, even institutions as ancient and cumbersome as the Catholic Church can become agents of change. Let’s hope Leo is that figure. And let’s hope he’s up for the challenge.