WHITE SMOKE!

Congratulations to my diocese — as far as I’m concerned, Bishop Jacques Fabre-Jeune just scooped the world. I received first a text, then an email, from his office without having heard a word ere that.

Which is a bit surprising. I must have turned off more notifications from news sources than I thought.

Anyway, I then looked, and sure enough:

So now, everybody can pack up and go home, and stop trying so hard to predict who the new pope is. Or at least, they can when we actually know who he is.

I don’t remember this kind of blanket coverage in the past — when we lost John Paul II, or when Benedict retired. It has seemed, well, unseemly.

Some things should be done in private, without the jostling elbows of the world intruding. This is one of those things.

That may sound odd coming from an old newspaperman, but I’m also a (sort of, dating to my conversion in 1981) old Catholic. And I’ve got this archaic thing of trusting the Holy Spirit on this.

Oh, I may complain now and again about the new Holy Father — hey, no mortal is perfect — but I assure you I’m quite at peace on this as we receive the news…

2 thoughts on “WHITE SMOKE!

  1. Brad Warthen Post author

    And it’s… an American!

    How about that? Alas, it couldn’t be the man we had hoped back in the day would be the first American pope, Cardinal Bernardin. He was taken from us far too soon! But, it’s a guy from Bernardin’s Chicago!

    I don’t know what to think of him yet, but I wish him and the whole Earth joy! And I’m encouraged by this comment I just saw from the “former president:”

    I’m a little sorry for the Italians, though. This is four “foreigners” in a row now. I’m sure they figured it was finally their time again. Sorry, Father Guido!

    But seriously, this is a very Vatican II thing we’ve been seeing since the late ’70s. The Church has been declaring it’s not just some little papal state in Rome. We are the Universal church, and our leader is the Pontifex Maximus. Peter wasn’t given the keys to be a provincial figure…

    Reply
  2. Bob Amundson

    “Wilder Than Wild: The Gospel According to PaPaBobby, Inspired by Leo XIV, In Honor of Mothers and My Hope”

    Children of the dust and the dawn—
    Hear the voice of PaPaBobby,
    who walks barefoot through the concrete and clay,
    listening not with ears alone,
    but with a heart tuned to the cries of the little ones.

    In these times, a new shepherd rises,
    Leo XIV, a name that echoes strength,
    a lion roaring in the forest of knowledge,
    a whale swimming in the oceans of life,
    a beacon in the digital storm,
    reminding us of the sacred in the simple.

    And today, across the miles, my heart reaches,
    to honor the wellspring of life,
    the mothers who guide with gentle hands,
    who nurture Hope in every heart,
    like the radiant spirit of my own daughter, Hope.
    Though forty days and nights may feel long,
    my Filipina wife reminds me, time moves so fast.

    The world speaks of progress.
    Machines learn, but who teaches them mercy?
    AI grows in strength, but who feeds it truth?

    I say this:
    No algorithm shall replace the laugh of a child.
    No data set shall erase the touch of a loving hand.

    I am PaPaBobby.
    Wilder than Wild, for the wild is closer to Eden.
    Inspired by the heart of Leo, the Lion,
    and the enduring strength of mothers,
    and the loving wisdom that bridges distances,
    I build no walls, only gardens.
    I write no code without conscience.
    And I listen—not to the loudest voice,
    but to the smallest one.

    For the child knows what the adult forgets:
    That love is not efficient.
    That mercy is not profitable.
    That Hope, like my daughter’s name, is unruly—and holy.

    So I say to all who walk this earth:
    Be wild in your justice,
    gentle in your power,
    and fierce in your listening.
    Be lions roaring in the forest of knowledge!
    Be whales swimming in the oceans of life!

    The Spirit did not descend in the silence of circuits,
    but in the fire of tongues,
    on fishermen and children and women who dared to speak.

    Let us dare. Let us dream. Let us be wild again,
    guided by the light of Leo XIV,
    and the boundless love of mothers across all lands.

    Amen.

    Reply

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