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Vatican City - In these hours in which the Church has received a new Pontiff, Leo XIV, I was struck by some reactions which, though understandable, betray a certain misunderstanding of the nature of the papacy: “I’m being cautious, let’s see what he’s like first, then we’ll judge.” As though it were the appointment of a CEO or a political representative to be assessed, approved, put to the test. But it is not so. The Pope is not to be evaluated or measured. The Pope is to be welcomed, because he is the Successor of Peter, and Peter is chosen by God to guide His Church. Certainly, the decisions a Pontiff takes may be discussed, criticised or appreciated, but his person, his ministry, are not and cannot be the object of judgement.
Whatever his name, his origin, his temperament or his ideas, the Successor of Peter is a choice the Lord makes for His people. It is not for us to study him, label him, approve him. It is a ministry that exceeds the individual. And this simple truth, perhaps, we had somewhat forgotten, after twelve years in which the papacy was often lived and perceived through a personalistic lens. Twelve years in which much was said about the Pope, and far too little about the Lord Jesus. Leo XIV, in his first homily before the College of Cardinals, was able to restore this truth in radiant words: “Our task is to disappear so that Christ may remain, to make ourselves small so that He may be known and glorified, to spend ourselves entirely so that no one may lack the opportunity to know and love Him.” This is the Pope: the one who, by emptying himself, makes room for Christ.
This is why the Church does not fear the storm. The boat, even when rocked by the wind, even when the Lord seems to sleep, remains firm. As Benedict XVI said in his farewell: “The boat of the Church is not mine, it is not ours, but it is His. And the Lord does not let it sink.” It is this certainty that allows us to live each pontificate with faith and trust, without slamming the door. It is this certainty that has guided us in these twelve years in which, even while legitimately criticising certain choices perceived as overly personal, we have always looked to the Successor of Peter for what he is, with filial affection. The Lord loves us, He does not abandon us. We saw living testimony of this yesterday, in St Peter’s Square: those young Americans beside us who, upon seeing the white smoke, began to cheer without knowing who had been elected. Because for them — and for us — it is not the name that matters, but the fact that there is a new Peter. And that is enough.
Leo XIV is not a good Pope because he wore the red mozzetta or the papal stole, nor would he have been a bad Pope had he not done so. The true difference compared to the past is that certain gestures do not seem ideological signals, but simple acts of a meek man, visibly moved, perhaps even afraid, but docile to the Spirit. A man who loves consecrated life, who has served with discretion, who has borne fruit, and who now finds himself having to say “yes” to an immense calling. A man who, as I wrote yesterday, is God’s caress to His Church. Let us not reduce faith to a mozzetta, to a mitre, to a homily in Latin. Let us not fall into the error — made by progressives and traditionalists alike — of assessing everything according to appearances. It is not the form in itself that is irrelevant — for often form is substance — but it is the intention of the heart, the transparency of faith, that reveals whether that form is inhabited by Christ.
In 2013, the homily of the newly elected Pontiff dwelt on the failings of the Church, with harsh and self-referential tones: “We are worldly, we are Bishops, Priests, Cardinals, Popes, but not disciples of the Lord.” The focus was on man, on his limitations, on his faults. Today, in the Sistine Chapel, we heard different words: words that placed Jesus Christ back at the centre, with a clear and simple invitation that says everything about the mission of a Pope: to disappear.
We are before a man who, with a trembling voice but a steadfast heart, seems to know that his role is not to put himself forward, but to make himself transparent. And so, yes, we can look ahead with confidence and peace. Because Peter is Peter. And the boat is always and in every case in the hands of the Lord — even if, perhaps, we had forgotten it.
Marco Felipe Perfetti
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