“The challenges faced by Catholics around the world today are no longer the same as those that confronted previous generations.”
I WAS getting ready for bed the other night when I came upon reports that white smoke had billowed out of the chimney at the Vatican, which meant that the conclave of cardinals had chosen a new Pope.
I did not expect to feel some excitement, even happiness, at this development. I do not consider myself devout and religious even though I spent 18 years of my life studying in Catholic educational institutions. My idea of going to church is sitting on a pew at dusk and wishing nobody else were around so I could find some calm and peace amid my troubled thoughts.
But there I was, falling asleep (eventually) with my tablet in front of me, the screen showing an empty window waiting for the new Roman Catholic leader to make his first appearance. Had I stayed awake any longer, I would have learned, along with the rest of the world, that the new Pope was an American who had chosen to take the name Leo.
Then again, I also did not expect to be much affected by the passing of Pope Francis nearly three weeks ago. Like everyone else I had known he had been sick for some time. He had an extended hospitalization in February and doctors later on said there was a point when they thought he would not make it.
He did, and saw the flock through until Easter, when his strong message of love resounded more powerfully than the feebleness of his voice.
And then he was gone, occasioning sorrow among the devout and not-so-devout.
Pope Francis will always be remembered for his compassion especially for those in the margins of society. This was unprecedented in a Church that has always banked on solid tradition and dogma. I have read, too, that more conventional clerics frowned upon the Argentinian Pope’s stance. But he persevered, bringing the church closer to people who would normally be shunned or ignored: members of the LGBTQIA+ community, unmarried mothers, divorced/ separated couples, prisoners, and survivors of abuse. He also provided comfort to victims of tragedies, as he demonstrated when he visited the Philippines in January 2015 and then said mass in Eastern Visayas, devastated by Typhoon Yolanda.
To be sure, Pope Francis’ moves were never drastic. The leader of a centuries-old religion with a global membership of 1.4 billion can only go so far. But he did make indicative steps toward making the church more accepting, more inclusive. He acknowledged the existence of clerical abuse and egregious attempts to sweep them under the rug. He made outsiders feel as though they had a home – harsh judgment did not have a place under Pope Francis’ leadership. And this is why he was so loved.
And this is why it would be good if these initial steps were not reversed.
We can only go by reports of his track record and previous actions to approximate what kind of pontiff Leo XIV would be. But the election of a leader is always cause for joy and hope. The challenges faced by Catholics around the world today are no longer the same as those that confronted previous generations. Dealing with these challenges while adapting to evolving times is always a test for Church leaders as much as it is for those who see themselves as part of the faithful — even when they occasionally go astray.
