What is it like to be in Rome during a conclave?
- Queen of Angels Family
- May 21
- 3 min read
Dear Mary, Queen of Angels Family,
Imagine the excitement of the Notre Dame vs. Ohio State National Championship: everything feels like it’s on the line, and the atmosphere is electric. The future rests on other people’s shoulders, and yet you and the thousands around you feel like you’re in on the action. Now, imagine that excitement stretched for days on end, and you’re beginning to understand what it’s like to be in Rome during a conclave.
On Wednesday May 7th, the cardinals offered a Mass for the election of the Pope; they processed to the Sistine chapel, the door was shut, and the key was turned. The cardinals prayed, and the world waited. The first vote was scheduled for the evening, so my 30,000 closest friends and I went to St. Peter’s to watch for the smoke. ‘They’ said that the smoke was expected to come out of the specially-installed chimney around 7pm—white for a new pope, black for another day of voting. After a short little wait of 2 hours, we all saw black smoke: no pope yet.
The first two votes happened the next morning, and just before noon, we saw more black smoke. That evening after class, I hurried down to St. Peter’s Square. Again, ‘they’ told us that we could expect smoke around 5:30 if there was a new pope or smoke around 7, new pope or not. At 6:07, there was a collective gasp, and my eyes darted towards the chimney: what? No. It can’t be. It was: white smoke.
The crowd erupted: ‘Habemus papam!’ ‘We have a pope!’ We all rushed to get closer to the balcony with the excitement of children. I was surrounded by priests and seminarians from America and England; a French community of priests and sisters was next to us; and flags waved from all around the world as we waited. Just over an hour later, the Protodeacon, Cardinal Mamberti, came out with the ‘announcement of great joy’, and the crowd certainly received the news with a whole lot of joy. The cardinal first announced his first and middle name—Robertus Franciscus—and then his last name—Prevost. What! An American? ‘They’ always told us that it would never happen. And then Cardinal Mamberti announced his papal name—Leo XIV, the lion! The crowd erupted.
Then the curtain parted, and there he was, our pope, the Holy Father—dressed in the white cassock for the purity of the Gospel and the red mozzetta for the blood of Peter whose office he now holds. ‘Viva il Papa!’ we yelled for a minute straight. “Peace be with you all!” The first words of the risen Christ to the Apostles were the first words of our new pope to us. The consolation was tangible: our Holy Father reflecting the love of our heavenly Father. Papa Leone!
The people continued to chant with the affection of children. Better than any football game or election, better than any form of entertainment, the Church does drama so well because she deals in eternal realities. More than a scoreboard or some years at the helm of a kingdom that will crumble, the pope is the Vicar of Christ entrusted with the weight of universal temporal governance of the kingdom that will never fail. May our Holy Father, the lion, protect us from all enemies of truth and love and lead us to the One from whom all fatherhood in heaven and on earth is named.
In Christ,
Fr. Jacob Lindle
