Extraordinary grace, and the pope’s Venezuelan connection
As things go in Saint Peter’s Square, getting there for last Thursday’s afternoon “fumata” was chaotic.
After losing my press accreditation, taking the wrong bus, trying to go around the square, and finally making the long line to access the square, I finally found myself through the “stringent” Vatican security.
As it was already 6 p.m., I thought that the fourth round of voting had not produced a pope, so I assumed I’d have enough time to make my way into a good place in the square.
But I was wrong.
As my belongings went through the x-ray machine, the crowd went mad, because the white smoke had appeared from the chimney.
Turns out, security staff also went mad.
As they cheered and tried to see the smoke, my camera and my belongings were trapped inside the x-ray machine.
I don’t know what I told security exactly, but I’m sure it wasn’t nice, and I’m sure it wasn’t Italian. I’m almost sure it was at least a venial sin.
But I collected my things. And as I hurried into the square, I thought a fourth round white smoke meant that the election went to one of the expected frontrunners, namely, Cardinal Pietro Parolin or Cardinal Luis Tagle.
But it was Cardinal Prevost. Pope Leo XIV. Not the candidate I predicted — and, actually — not the candidate I wanted — but he did choose the name I’d been quietly hoping for.
The crowd was first confused. I could tell they weren’t Pillar readers because they didn’t have a clue who Prevost was. But they quickly started chanting his papal name.
But for myself, I was still wishing that one of the candidates I’d hoped for would have been elected.
Except, when the man walked out of the balcony I experienced something I can only describe as an extraordinary grace.
Every ounce of spiritual resistance I had left my soul.
I was disarmed, to paraphrase Pope Leo XIV himself. I felt a sense of spiritual kinship with the Holy Father and a certainty that the Holy Spirit is, as always, caring for the Church.
Maybe it was the mozzeta or the thousands of people screaming in excitement around me.
Maybe I shouldn’t over-spiritualize an emotional experience.
If anything, I know we’ll be fine. God is in control of His Church.
I worry about the things He has put under my command. I worry about changing diapers, praying my rosary, having a full pantry, and filing this dispatch on time, but not for the Church.
It’s human to worry about the things we love, but if we believe in the supernaturality of the Church, then we believe God is ultimately in control.
For the Church, I can only pray and do my job well to keep our pastors and the Holy Father accountable.
Our Lord handles the rest.
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Pope Leo XIV’s brother confirmed that he is a Chicago White Sox fan. Perhaps that, in itself, should be enough proof of his personal holiness).
Pope Leo XIV was born just a year before the sole Venezuelan Hall of Famer, White Sox’s shortstop Luis Aparicio, made his debut with the Sox in 1956.
This also means that it is quite likely that Pope Leo grew up rooting for Aparicio, who played with the White Sox between 1956 and 1962, and then 1968 and 1970.
But that’s not all.
Videos surfaced in social media of Pope Leo XIV in the 2005 World Series’ Game 1 between the Chicago White Sox and Houston Astros, namely, a series between good and evil.
The White Sox manager in that World Series? Ozzie Guillén, another Venezuelan.
Guillén also won Rookie of the Year for the White Sox in 1985, spending most of his 16 year career playing for them.
Again, that’s not all.
Do you know who won Game 4 of that World Series with an iconic seven-inning shutout? That’s right, another Venezuelan: Freddy García.
At this point, I think there is enough to give Pope Leo XIV an honorary Venezuelan citizenship.
He’s probably more of a Venezuelan than our president, Nicolás Maduro, who’s rumored to be Colombian and who speaks an unintelligible brand of Spanish, unlike the pope, whose Spanish is almost miraculous for an American.
There have been way too many good posts recently. It’s becoming hard for me to keep up. Edgar, this is awesome. About to share this with all my Venezuelan friends. I also agree, there’s no question that his being a Sox fan is absolutely a confirmation of his personal holiness or, at a minimum, seems to suggest he would be less likely to abandon Jesus in the garden…because let’s face it, being a Sox fan means you’re committed to the cause.
Edgar, you made me spit out my morning coffee on multiple occasions in this article. I laughed so loudly. Thank you, though I hope I don’t suffer symptoms of caffeine withdrawal since most of daily supply is sprayed across my sitting room.