From Chicago to the Vatican

The smoke is white! The world has a new pope.

Being from California, Catholicism is just one of many religions woven into our cultural fabric. The United States was founded on the principle of separating church and state. But that doesn’t mean we don’t mourn the passing of Pope Francis or celebrate the legacy of his predecessor.

Like the rest of the world, I waited, wondering which path the Church would take next: one rooted in classic tradition, or one moving toward inclusion, transparency, and compassion.

The new Pope: Pope León XIV.

My first surprise was that the wait wasn’t long. Cardinal Robert Prevost emerged and took the name Pope Leo XIV. My second surprise? He was a fellow American! It’s not that I didn’t think it could happen—it’s that the possibility had simply never crossed my mind.

Then came the shock. Reality set in as I tuned into one of his first public appearances. We’re used to popes speaking Latin, Italian, Spanish—languages that feel as much a part of the papal identity as the robes and mitre. But then came the unexpected: Pope Leo addressed the crowd in a native American accent.

Of course I knew he was American, but hearing English—spoken with that unmistakably American tone—against the backdrop of Vatican formality was disorienting. Like hearing the Statue of Liberty speak—not in solemn, stony silence, but with the warm, familiar voice of someone ordering coffee at a diner. It was surreal—yet somehow, intriguingly comforting.

Then came another surprise: his full homily was later delivered in fluent Spanish. What?! A Chicagoan speaking Spanish? A Californian, sure—that’s expected. But the Midwest? In that moment, I knew—we had a unique and cool pope. A multilingual, multicultural leader from a country not exactly known for either.

As I began to adjust to these surprises, his actual pope-ing came into focus. He spoke on behalf of the poor, advocated for unity and peace, and bridging divides within the Church and with world. He supported the use of AI and technology that promotes human dignity and creativity, rather than manipulation and eroding personal freedoms.

And then, there was a moment I won’t forget:

In a symbolic act, he removed his papal ring for a moment and kissed a child’s worn backpack. It was quiet, unscripted, and deeply moving.

For me, it was a message: This pope may speak many tongues and come from unexpected lands—but more importantly, he listens. I understand now that tradition and transformation don’t have to clash. We can all shake hands.