About 30 South American women gathered for a Zoom session May 8, focused on economic development. The women, from the Pan-Amazonian Ecclesial Network, were planning their participation in COP30, the United Nations’ gathering on climate crisis, scheduled for this November in Belém, Brazil, at the mouth of the Amazon River. But the women wanted to talk about something else and they paused their political planning. The new pope, Cardinal Robert Prevost, former Bishop of Chiclayo in northern Peru, was on everyone’s mind.
The women, from Brazil, Colombia, Ecuador, and Peru, posted many photos on the screen: El Obispo Roberto in gumboots in a flooded town, serving a hearty plate of food, wearing a poncho and a peaked woven hat with earflaps, typical dress for the cold regions of the high-altitude Andes.
They had no doubt. The new Pope, Leo XIV, was not the first American Pope. He was, they said, the second Pope of the Americas. Not only was Pope Leo a man of the Americas, but he spent many decades in their America, the South. He had been their bishop, after all.
These women were land defenders and community leaders, lay women and religious sisters. They were filled with hope beyond measure. Pope Francis had loved their region and had elevated it in his prayers and working commitment. His apostolic exhortation, Querida Amazonia, had laid the foundation. Pope Leo, who knew and understood their struggles and celebrations firsthand, would carry on Francis’ mission.
For the next few days, messages flew across South America. A few were concerned: Pope Leo had worn the expensive, fancy garments of the papacy, unlike Francis. He had chosen to live in the designated papal residence, unlike Francis, who moved into the simpler residence of Santa Marta House.
Others were reassured: he had rejected the fine red shoes that until Francis had been standard papal wear. Photos circulated of his sensible black shoes. His first public words were in the language of the people, not Latin, the language of church hierarchies, an echo of the past.
Mrs. Teresa Subieta, Bolivia’s ambassador to the Holy See, was elated: When Pope Francis left us, we were devastated,” she said. “My heart was paralyzed. We had been so close. He and I both understood what it meant to stand up in a world plagued with evil—the violence against Mother Nature and humans everywhere. At the nine-day Mass for the repose of his soul, I had a vision of Pope Francis. He was smiling at me. I began to sob, unable to control my tears. I was desolate.
“When the conclave came, we were all worried. My embassy is right across the street from the Vatican, and we could feel the strong emotions from all the pilgrims on the first day. We waited. The second day, my heart was beating. I thought this would be the day. And then at 6 p.m.—white smoke! I ran across the street to the square with my embassy secretary. We heard the pronouncement: Pope Leo XIV! Bishop Roberto Prevost of Peru!”
Pope Leo’s first words were in Italian: “La pace sei con tutti voi.” But he paused his Italian to send a particular note in Spanish:
“And if you also allow me a brief word, a greeting to everyone and in particular to my beloved Diocese of Chiclayo, in Peru, where a faithful people has accompanied its bishop, shared its faith, and given so much, so much,” he said, “in order to continue being the faithful Church of Jesus Christ.”
Chiclayo went wild. Plans were made for a special Pope Leo pilgrimage route. “La Cumbia del Papa” by Donnie Yaipén went viral, declaring in a tune driven by his accordion, “How wonderful—look what Roberto has done. All hands up—the Pope is Peruvian, he is from Chiclayo!”
Others across Latin America were equally pleased. Msgr. Raul Vera, retired Bishop of Coahuila, Mexico, says: “The best thing about Pope Leo is that he has not spent his whole life stuck in an office. As a member of the Augustinians he is from a mendicant order, like me, as a Dominican. But he hasn’t been stuck in a monastery, either. He has been out in the world. He has lived most of his ministry in the South, in Peru, and that will have had a big impact on his vision of the world, and of the church.”
The first month of Leo XIV’s papacy has been marked by a calm determination to continue the work of his predecessor, Francis. It was Leo who tended to the legacy of his friend. But it is clear. Pope Leo will have his own charism. He has shown himself already, one month in, as a calming force, a peacemaker, a bridge-builder.
Cardinal Pedro Barreto, emeritus Bishop of Huacayo, Peru, was recently in Canada, attending an ecumenical conference on the Jubilee movement. Cardinal Barreto knows Bishop Prevost well, as a colleague and as a brother. He says it is clear: Leo has come to carry on the work of Francis.
“Vatican II was about two things: the understanding that all the baptized are one family. No one stands outside. Second, the church is here to serve the whole world—not itself. Pope Francis fought hard to bring this back, through the laborious process of synodality. It is a reform that quietly goes deep—the church will never be the same. But if Francis was the bulldozer, breaking things down, Leo is the leveler. He will smooth things over, but the road, the reforms, are still going through.”
Teresa says, “When they first announced the new pope, my heart felt that the God of life and God’s Spirit had chosen a new pope of promise, a pope who would not abandon the forgotten ones, the humble, the poor; a pope who would point the way towards the gospel of Jesus the Liberator. When Pope Leo called us, the diplomatic corps, to our first gathering with him, he outlined the focus of our shared ministry: Peace, justice, and truth. We have much work before us.”
The Rev. Emilie Smith is Guest Writer on Covenant. She is parish priest of St. Barnabas Anglican Church, New Westminster, Canada, and TLC’s Latin America correspondent.
