American Pope
An American Pope. My boyhood, Catholic school kid heart is happy. My mother would be beside herself as would be the nuns who taught me, mostly Sisters of Charity in their starched, white-winged habits. I doubt any of them ever imagined that a kid from the South Side of Chicago who graduated from Villanova would make that journey. But here he is and we can talk to his brothers and they’re telling us all about him. He likes the White Sox. A baseball Pope. It feels good.
My adult, fallen away from the church heart, is equally happy. If the new pope’s chosen name, Leo XIV, is any indication, he’s going to be on the side of the working man and human rights for the poor and the downtrodden as was the proceeding Leo, the XIII. Of course, we’ll have to wait for his big encyclical to see how he actually stands, but I think there’s hope. And I bet the people of Peru are happy too because that’s where he lived and served for a large portion of his ministerial life.
Finally, I’m happy to have another American voice on the world stage with the potential to do something other than call people names and brag about how great he is. Of course, the proof will be in the pudding as to where he actually stands on key social issues, but I’m betting he’ll be close to Pope Francis in his outlook which means those lessons I took from the bible and the church about loving your neighbors (all of them) and looking out for the poor will be in play and important. So, it will be nice to have a friend in Rome.