Dear Peter

An open letter to the future Pope, written with faith, hope, and the profound desire to love him from the first moment

Just a few hours before the conclave begins, I thought about writing to that person who, as Peter’s successor, will shepherd the Church for as long as God wills.

First, I must say that I’ve tried to stay away from the comments and discussions that have been popping up on social media and in the media these past few days. They say that out of sight… and I, convinced that they wouldn’t do me any good, have ignored them, although something always reaches you.

I’m increasingly fascinated by how people like to give their opinions, talk, and, above all, judge. It continues to amaze me how people who are neither within the Church nor, of course, profess the Catholic faith, talk and talk as if they were the greatest experts. How, positioning themselves in a kind of imaginary pulpit, they deliver their verdict like a sentence against which there is no appeal. We love to think that our reasoning and common sense are the most common of all that exist.

It happens in all spheres. We are surrounded by people who call themselves “experts” and who have one common characteristic: a lack of charity when speaking. The realm of religion, and even more so if it’s Catholicism, is no exception to this, and if you turn on the television after the midday news, you can encounter truly absurd situations.

I’m not going to venture to talk about the conclave, or the cardinals, or the great ignorance that reigns in the environment. Today, I want to put my heart in a position to welcome and love the next Pope from now on.

And that is why I venture to write these lines to you.

Dear Peter,

It might seem difficult to write to a person you know nothing about, not even their name. And it would be if it weren’t for the fact that there is something much greater; something much deeper and at the same time, loftier, that makes me trust that, without knowing your face, I can love you right now. The truth is, it’s not just that I can, but that I want and decide to do so. I want to love you.

That something is my faith. A faith that moves me and lives with the certainty that God guides the future of the world and accompanies us, never leaving us alone for a minute. Free but accompanied. A faith that makes me know that you are the next Peter, whatever your name.

This certainty, this simple hope, makes me know that your election will be inspired by the Holy Spirit and that you will be the Pope the Church needs for these times.

These are turbulent and complicated times, but when have they ever been easy times? When have human beings been able to find that good life their hearts so yearn for? When have we stopped having wars?

Every age has its own struggles. And in ours, I know for certain that we will have, at the head of the flock that we are, the person we need. Whatever your name may be.

The other day I read a post that said we need a Pope with the apostolic drive of Saint John Paul II, the doctrinal clarity of Benedict XVI, and the heart of Pope Francis.

I liked thinking about each of them and how they have guided us. Each one as the gift they were. With their mannerisms and their charisma. Each one of them knowing they were called to an immense and very difficult mission for which the Holy Spirit empowered them.

And that’s it. That is what is radically essential. Not whether you are Asian or European. Not whether your skin is one color or another. Not whether you are younger or younger. The only truly important thing is that you will be the person chosen by the Holy Spirit to help us walk toward heaven.

With your past and your history. With your weaknesses and talents. Like the gift that you are. Unique and unrepeatable, and called to the great mission of being the successor of Saint Peter.

A mission for which you surely see yourself as small, and probably so, but for which God chooses you and, therefore, qualifies you; and for which you count on the prayers of many people, including myself.

It is a very great mystery how God, not needing us, wants to do this and calls us to be His hands in this world. A world that yearns for Him and needs Him, even though it denies Him and turns its back on Him.

A world that will criticize you a lot because those of us who live in it love to do so, but that needs you and needs your testimony.

A world thirsty for meaning and for witnesses whose lives speak to us of that God who loves us without needing our merits or many titles, money, or recognition. But rather just as we are.

A world that seems to have lost its way and hope, but in which each of us has a responsibility, needing to do our part.

I don’t know if you would have preferred not to be elected. I think it’s human that such a thought may have crossed your mind. Until recently, you were a little-known “normal” person. From now on, you will have many eyes on you and many people around you. You will no longer be able to walk around anonymously, wherever and whenever you want; and your every gesture will be scrutinized, often with not very good intentions. Now, your heart will have to be stretched to the limit, as will the hours in your schedule, and I’m sure you won’t have enough time in the day for everything you’ll have to do.

When I had the gift of meeting your predecessor, Pope Francis, I was deeply impressed by the number of people he always had at his side and the many groups and individuals he saw throughout the day. In his gaze, warm as none other, I saw immense humanity. He asked me to pray for him, and I have done so every day. You haven’t asked me to do so yet, but I have been praying for you for some time and entrusting you to me.

I have already prepared and prepared my heart to open it to you. I know that touch creates affection, and I would be lying if I told you I didn’t want to know who you are. So much so! Because love needs a face, a name.

And I hope and trust that once again I will be amazed by the action of God, who makes everything new, asking Him to help me never stop looking at reality through the eyes of a child and to always walk as a pilgrim of hope, loving much and judging little.

Because as Mother Teresa of Calcutta said, if you judge people, you don’t have time to love them.

I thank God for you and your mission, and I thank you for saying yes to that call.