When Pope Francis was elected in 2013, I remember exactly where I was. As a Hispanic American, I felt an instant surge of pride. For the first time in the history of the Roman Catholic Church, a man from the Americas — born in Argentina to Italian immigrants — had ascended to the Chair of Saint Peter. It wasn’t just history being made; it felt personal. For millions of us across the Western Hemisphere, it was as if the Church was reaching back across oceans and generations to say: You matter. Your story matters. Your faith matters.
Over the past decade, Pope Francis has inspired admiration and stirred controversy. His pastoral tone — more merciful than doctrinal, more relational than rigid — was refreshing for some, unsettling for others. He spoke often of the peripheries, of the poor, of a “Church that goes forth.” Yet, at times, many faithful Catholics felt like they had become the new periphery — those who clung to traditional liturgies, moral clarity, and the unchanging truths of Church teaching.
Still, the passing of a pope is a moment not just of mourning, but of reflection.
I count myself among the many who, after years of wandering, searching, and questioning, found my way back to the Church during Pope Francis’ papacy. Mine wasn’t a political conversion. It was spiritual. It came through quiet moments of prayer, through witnessing the radical beauty of the sacraments, and through the faithfulness of Catholic friends who challenged me not to conform the Church to the world — but to conform my life to Christ.
And I’m not alone.
Across the country —and especially among younger generations — there has been a quiet but profound resurgence of faith. Latin Mass parishes are growing. RCIA classes are filling. In an age of confusion and contradiction, Catholicism is offering something so many souls are starving for: clarity, beauty, and truth.
Which brings us to the moment we are in.
The conclave that follows the death of a pope is not just a sacred tradition — it is a moment charged with eternal consequence. The next pontiff must be one who understands not only the needs of the Church today, but the challenges of tomorrow. A shepherd who speaks with the authority of the Apostles, but who listens with the humility of Christ.
The Church does not need a celebrity. It does not need a virtue signaler. It does not need a pope who seeks applause from the world while alienating the faithful within. What it needs — what we need — is a pontiff who will guide, not divide. A Vicar of Christ who embraces both the traditional Catholic and the prodigal son. A man unafraid to preach the fullness of the Gospel, in season and out of season.
Pope Francis leaves behind a complex legacy. But he also leaves behind a Church that is very much alive — struggling, yes, but growing. And that, in the end, is a testament not to one man, but to the One who promised the gates of hell would not prevail.
As the College of Cardinals gathers, let us pray not just for a new pope — but for a holy one. One who will unite the Body of Christ, proclaim the truth in love, and lead not with cleverness or charm—but with courage and conviction.
James Kimmey is a founder and CEO of the National Catholic Leadership Network.