The first time I heard the name Jorge Bergoglio was the evening of March 13, 2013, when he stepped out on the loggia of St. Peter’s Basilica as Pope Francis. I was a deacon, in my second-to-last year of studies in Rome, only months away from priestly ordination. Just weeks earlier I had been sitting in class when the dean of the school entered the lecture hall and announced to the students through tears that Benedict XVI had decided to resign from the papacy. It was surreal. A few days after my friends and I attended Pope Benedict’s last public audience in St. Peter’s Square, all the American seminarians gathered on the roof of the seminary on February 28 to watch him leave the Vatican by helicopter.
Then everyone’s focus turned to what was coming next – a papal conclave. The professors at the university half-heartedly expressed their expectation that students would continue to attend lectures during the conclave, knowing full well that wasn’t going to happen. There was no way we were going to be anywhere except St. Peter’s Square at those times when we knew the cardinals in the conclave were casting ballots. Twice, we saw black smoke come from the chimney of the Sistine Chapel. Both times we noticed that the smoke first appeared light gray before turning black. So, when the time for the next ballot came, we knew to wait a moment before reacting. As we were waiting, a seagull perched on the chimney, which caused all sorts of drama among the native Romans, who interpreted it as some kind of sign, possibly ominous. Suddenly, smoke started to emerge from the chimney – but this time it wasn’t turning black. Everyone began moving quickly to the front of the square, towards the basilica. Within minutes, the bells of St. Peter’s began to ring, and the square became packed with people. The light rain stopped, and umbrellas were replaced by the flags of countries from all over the world. The Vatican City marching band appeared, along with the Swiss Guard in all its finery, and the gorgeous piazza and basilica were brilliantly illuminated. The crowd was buzzing with everyone joyfully speculating about who the new pope might be. Finally, about an hour after the white smoke appeared, the new successor of St. Peter was announced – Jorge Bergoglio of Argentina, who had taken the name Francis. I had never seen or heard of the man in the white cassock who emerged onto the loggia that evening. All I knew was that he was the pope. After receiving his blessing, we went back to the seminary chapel to offer a prayer of thanksgiving and sing the “Te Deum,” before enjoying a prosecco toast in the refectory.
Last week, from that same loggia, Pope Francis made his final public appearance on Easter Sunday, to give his annual “Urbi et Orbi” speech. A friend of mine who was with me when Pope Francis was presented to the world for the first time remarked that the physical exertion required of the pope to appear on Easter in his weakened condition might have been what led to his death just hours later. If true, then it was a most fitting way for a successor of Peter to die – having exhausted himself proclaiming the good news of the Risen Lord to the city of Rome and to the world. May he rest in peace.
posted 4/26/25
The Parish of St. Cecilia-St. Gabriel 