Roberto de Mattei
The white smoke rose as a surprise from the chimney of the Sistine Chapel at 6:08 p.m. on Thursday, May 8, as the twilight illuminated the Bernini colonnade. An hour later, St. Peter's Square and Via della Conciliazione were packed with more than a hundred thousand people, while nearly a billion were connected through the media. The crowd, as had happened in 1978 with Pope Wojtyla, did not immediately understand the name of the new pontiff, announced by Cardinal Dominique Mamberti. However, the applause erupted long and thunderous. The square acclaimed the 267th successor of St. Peter, Cardinal Robert Francis Prevost, who assumed the name of Pope Leo XIV.
The first impression is the most important one, because it is intuitive and imprinted in the memory. That is why, in a previous article, asking what would be the first words that the new Pope would speak from the loggia of St. Peter's Basilica, we wrote: "Certainly, the words and gestures with which the future Pope will inaugurate his pontificate will already reveal a trend, offering a first element of discernment to the sensus fidei of the Catholic people. Whatever name he takes, will the Pontiff elected by the College of Cardinals want to follow in the footsteps of Francis or break with his pontificate, which many say has been a catastrophe for the Church?"
We had a response, and it was in the sign of discontinuity, at least in terms of that style of governance to which Francis had entrusted his primary message. The choice of such a challenging name, evoking a Pope with a vast doctrinal magisterium, such as Leo XIII was, but also holy and fighting Popes, such as St. Leo the Great and St. Leo IX, already signals a trend. Equally significant was the way the new Pope presented himself to the people of Rome. The sobriety of Leo XIV's trait was accompanied by his recognition of the dignity of the Church, which he honored by wearing the solemn robes prescribed by the ceremonial: the red mozzetta, the pontifical stole, and the golden pectoral cross, which had not happened 12 years earlier.
In the first words of his address, Leo XIV wished peace in the name of the risen Christ, and in the last words he recalled that May 8 is the day of supplication to Our Lady of Pompeii, reciting the Hail Mary, together with the faithful, and imparting his first blessing “Urbi et Orbi,” with the granting of plenary indulgence. Let us add that May 8 is also the feast of Mary Mediatrix of all graces and of St. Michael the Archangel, prince of the heavenly host, and, with St. Joseph, protector of the Church. This has not escaped the notice of those attentive to the language of symbols.
Many are scrambling to reconstruct the acts and words of the bishop and then Cardinal Prevost to understand what the agenda of his pontificate might be. The fear is that the discontinuity with Pope Francis in form is not matched by a similar distance in content. But in an age when praxis prevails over doctrine, the restoration of form already contains, by implication, a restoration of substance. It should also be remembered that, at the time of his election, every pope receives graces of state commensurate with his task, and several times it has happened that a pontiff's position changes once he assumes the Petrine ministry. For this reason, as Cardinal Raymond Leo Burke well said in a statement of his own, assuring his support for the new Pontiff, it is necessary to pray that the Lord will grant him, “abundant wisdom, strength and courage to do all that Our Lord asks of him in these tumultuous times” (https://guadalupeshrine.org/journal/pope-leo-xiv-viva-il-papa/). To the intercession of Our Lady of Guadalupe recalled by Cardinal Burke, we suggest adding that of Our Lady of Good Counsel venerated in the Augustinian shrine of Genazzano.
Of course, vigilance and struggle against the external and internal enemies of the Church cannot cease, but it is not the hour of disappointment and worry, it is the hour of joy and hope. It is the hour of joy because the Roman Church has elected the Vicar of Christ, Leo XIV, renewing the apostolic chain that binds him to the Apostle Peter. It is the hour of hope because the successor of Peter is the Head, on earth, of the Mystical Body of Christ, which is the Church, and the Church, even amid the trials and persecutions to which she is subjected in history, always rises triumphant, like Her Divine founder.
Commenting on the words of Luke's Gospel (24:36-47), St. Augustine writes: “The Lord appeared to His disciples after His resurrection, as ye have heard, and saluted them, saying, 'Peace be unto you.' This is peace indeed, and the salutation of salvation: for the very word salutation has received its name from salvation. And what can be better than that Salvation Itself should salute man? For Christ is our Salvation. He is our Salvation, who was wounded for us, and fixed by nails to the tree, and being taken down from the tree, was laid in the sepulchre. And from the sepulchre He arose, with His wounds healed, His scars kept. For this He judged expedient for His disciples, that His scars should be kept, whereby the wounds of their hearts might be healed. What wounds? The wounds of unbelief.” (Sermon CXVI).
The unbelief of a world that has turned its back on Christ is the main cause of the lack of peace in our time. For this reason, Leo XIV, son of St. Augustine, in his first homily, delivered May 9 before the cardinal electors, referring to the darkness of a faithless world, said that the Church must be “more and more a city set on the mountain, an ark of salvation sailing through the billows of history, a beacon illuminating the nights of the world.” The pope then recalled the famous expression of St. Ignatius of Antioch (cf. Letter to the Romans, Salutation), when, “being led in chains to this city, the place of his imminent sacrifice, he wrote to the Christians there, ‘Then I shall truly be a disciple of Jesus Christ, when the world does not see my body’” (Letter to the Romans, IV, 1). He was referring to being devoured by the beasts in the circus-and so it happened-but his words recall in a more general sense an inalienable commitment for anyone in the Church who exercises a ministry of authority: to disappear so that Christ may remain, to make oneself small so that He may be known and glorified (cf. Jn. 3:30), to spend oneself to the utmost so that no one lacks the opportunity to know and love Him. May God give me this grace, today and always, with the help of the tender intercession of Mary Mother of the Church.”
These words sound almost like an omen. In his first appearance on the loggia of St. Peter's Basilica, Leo XIV's face was streaked with a few tears. These discreet tears can express the emotion of a man who in front of a cheering crowd reviews his entire past, from the Chicago parish to his unexpected landing at the top of the Church. But they can also manifest the affliction of one who glimpses the future of the Church and the world.
How can we fail to recall the silent and prophetic weeping of Our Lady in Syracuse, where Cardinal Prevost went in September last year, on the 71st anniversary of the miraculous tearing? And how can we fail to recall, on the eve of May 13, the Third Secret of Fatima, which describes a Pope, “afflicted with grief and sorrow,” passing through a city in ruins, ascending to a mountain where martyrdom awaits him at the foot of the Cross?
The future of Pope Leo XIV is known only to God, but the message of Fatima, with its promise of the final triumph of the Immaculate Heart of Mary is a certainty that animates devout hearts in these astonishing days of May that have given a new Pope to the Church.
