Like so many worldwide, my attention of late has been focused on Rome. Together, we watched, listened and read about the death of Pope Francis, honoring one who sought to promote social justice and build bridges to all backgrounds and religions. Then, just weeks later, our eyes once again were on St. Peter’s Square and that famous balcony when we learned the news of Pope Leo XIV. A feeling of collective and contagious excitement seemed to spread, surprising me at how far it reached.
As a teacher in a public school, I do not speak openly of my faith to many but also make no attempt to hide my Catholicism. On the morning of Easter Monday, when I stepped into the building at 7 am, still stunned from the news of the Pope’s passing, a colleague held the door for me and said, “This must be a tough day for you.”
We talked a bit, and, though she is Jewish, she felt the weight of that news as well. Pope Francis’ message impacted not only Catholics, she said, and wished to share her concern with me, an unexpected gesture of solidarity despite our different beliefs.
A few weeks later, as the conclave began, she and I spoke about the ritual and secrecy surrounding it. As faithful a Jew as I am a Catholic, she sometimes talks about her rabbi, synagogue and high holiday celebrations, educating me on religious traditions I know little about. So, it should have been no surprise that when, as I was finishing lunch just before Pope Leo XIV said, “Peace be with you,” she was the one who popped her head in and said, “Did you see? There’s white smoke! And he’s American!”
Thousands of miles away, a Muslim neighbor of ours vacationing in Italy altered his travel plans and headed to the Basilica for the anticipated announcement, later texting us, “Of course I went – wouldn’t miss it.”
Hundreds of miles away, my daughter Elizabeth, finishing her freshman year at a Pennsylvania college with Presbyterian ties, described a unique excitement permeating the campus along with prayers that night at the chapel. They were abuzz at learning that Pope Leo himself has gone to school nearby. “And I heard he likes Wawa!” she exclaimed about her favorite local convenience store.
Who creates such enthusiasm in non-Catholics as well as those of the faith? A man who transcends faith boundaries, one who appears relatable to the ordinary citizen, one who utters words of peace, of continuing to build bridges and help the suffering.
In addressing the thousands in St. Peter’s Square, Pope Leo XIV directed the words of his opening address to the followers of Christ, but it seems his inclusion of the word “all” struck a universal audience as well when he said, “Dearest brothers and sisters, this is the first greeting of the Risen Christ … I too would like this greeting of peace to enter your heart, to reach your families, to all people, wherever they are, to all peoples, to the whole earth. Peace be with you!”
Yes, all. From my Jewish colleague and our Muslim neighbor to my daughter’s classmates and our Catholic friends, we uphold tradition and look ahead, with jubilance and hope.
