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Vatican City - The election of Pope Leo XIV is a clear, even disarmingly transparent sign that the Lord never abandons His Church. In the hours leading up to the announcement—amid speculation, manoeuvring, fears, and predictions—few could have imagined that such a name as Robert Francis Prevost would emerge from the College of Cardinals. And yet, here we are: filled with wonder and, at the same time, peace. It is a reminder, as Saint Augustine tells us, that “You, Lord, are more inward to me than my most inward part.”
The Holy Spirit often seems to let us wander through the maze of our thoughts and human designs. But then, at the right time, He intervenes—with that power that “grabs us by the hair” to pull us back just before we fall. This election feels like one of those moments when the hand of God reaches out and, with fatherly resolve, sets us back on the right path.
Pope Leo XIV greeted the Church with words both simple and powerful: “Peace be with you all!” It is the greeting of the Risen One, the first words of the Master to His frightened disciples. This is not a generic wish, nor a disembodied utopia. It is the living proclamation of a truth: Christ is risen, and His peace—disarmed and disarming—is already at work in the world. The Holy Father reminded us that this peace is for all, that no one is excluded from God’s love, and that evil shall not prevail. These words express the heart of the Gospel, and they also offer a concrete call for the Church to rediscover its mission.
Leo XIV presented himself as a “son of Saint Augustine”—a detail not merely decorative, but interpretative. Augustine was not only a giant of thought, but a shepherd consumed by the fire of love for truth and for his people. “With you I am a Christian; for you I am a bishop,” he once said. This, too, is the style with which the new Pope has chosen to begin his pontificate: with humility, with clarity, and with an authority that springs not from superficiality, but from being deeply rooted in Christ.
We cannot overlook the providential nature of this choice. Prevost is a canon lawyer—thus, a man of justice, of balance, of fidelity to ecclesial form. But he is also a gentle man, a religious, a pastor who knows the needs of his priests, of the Church. He has lived the real mission. He has cared for vocations in real, concrete places. He entered the Curia in 2023—enough time to see things clearly, but not to become entangled. He had not the time to bind himself to power structures, but he had sufficient time to understand, to observe, to discern.
Under Pope Francis, Prevost often had to remain silent. Episcopal appointments were handled personally by the Pope. Yet now, that patience—a most Augustinian virtue—becomes a gift. The man who knew how to wait for God’s timing is now called to lead. This election marks the beginning of a new season for the Church.
A season that places Christ Jesus at its centre—His Church first—and then, yes, confronts problems, but with the awareness that the Church’s primary mission is to proclaim the Gospel. A season where Justice returns to the forefront. Where missionary outreach is no longer reduced to catchy slogans for online approval, but is lived in concrete closeness to priests and bishops. Where laws are loved, not feared or ignored. A season in which the Gospel once again becomes what it truly is: the power that saves mankind. This is also a message for the Church itself, often torn by internal divisions. The peace of Christ is needed not only in the world, but also within us, among us. Leo XIV has recalled the value of synodality—the kind that listens to all voices—and he has placed Jesus Christ at the centre as the sole Lord and Shepherd. Only in this way can we truly become a Church “on the way”, not a Parliament seeking compromise. He entrusted his ministry to Our Lady on the very day of the Supplication to Our Lady of Pompeii—a gesture that speaks of a faith lived on its knees, grounded in daily life. Marian devotion! A Church that knows who she is can speak to the heart of modern man. Today, we can say with certainty: the Church is in God’s hands. And perhaps even I, at times, had forgotten that.
The election of Leo XIV reminds us—with both strength and tenderness—that the Lord does not withhold what we need. There could have been no better choice. And perhaps, on a human level, we had even forgotten such a choice was possible. But the Holy Spirit is real. Always. And He acts. Despite us, and precisely for us.
Marco Felipe Perfetti
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