God’s people meet their new Pope in St. Peter’s Square (Photos)

At 6:08 p.m. on Thursday, May 8, Rome stopped breathing — and the world with it. After just two days of conclave, the Church has a new pope, and his name is Leo XIV. Three weeks after the death of Pope Francis, St. Peter's Square, bathed in late afternoon light, slowly and silently transformed into a joyful place of collective vigil.

Starting at dawn, faithful individually or in groups flocked from far and wide to experience this rare, almost sacred moment. By 6 p.m., there were more than 45,000 of them, pressed tightly together, their eyes fixed on that tiny point on the roof of the Sistine Chapel: a simple chimney, from which a sign would emerge, sooner or later.

Throughout the day, singing, rosaries, lively conversations, and deep silence alternated with regular applause, as if to encourage the cardinals gathered a few meters away in the Sistine Chapel. Priests blessed, pilgrims prayed, and a deep fervor enveloped the crowd. It was a wait fueled by history, but above all by hope. For what was happening here went beyond tradition: It was the breath of the Holy Spirit that the faithful were invoking.

At 6:40 p.m., a wave runs through the crowd, suddenly moved: A baby seagull has landed next to the chimney on the roof of the Sistine Chapel. A small, fragile, unexpected, almost symbolic figure, like an innocent messenger on the threshold of a sacred moment. A few seconds later, an exclamation ripples through the crowd. Smoke rises. Thick, clear ... White!

The clamor is immediate, instinctive, global. Hands are raised in the air, cries of joy erupt, smartphones are lifted. Some fall to their knees. Others pray aloud. The news spreads around the world in seconds, but here, in the Square, it’s a wave of grace that passes through hearts and bodies.

The bells of St. Peter's ring out vigorously, majestically, punctuating the tears, the songs, the embraces between strangers who have become brothers and sisters in waiting.

The curtain of the central balcony remains closed and the minutes tick by. But here, time doesn’t seem to pass at the same speed. A group of young Mexicans chant energetically, “La juventud del papa!”— “The pope’s young people!” A little further away, Brazilian priests recite the rosary with fervor. The murmurs grow louder. The Easter song to Mary, Regina Caeli, is sung on both sides of the Square by faithful from all over the world.

Outside the Sistine Chapel, no one knows who has been elected yet. But in the end, it doesn't really matter. Charlotte, a young French woman encountered in the Square, is reveling in the moment: “The atmosphere is incredible! We don't know who it is yet, but everyone is so happy! The Pope has been elected!”

A long cloth is unfurled in front of the loggia, signaling that the Church has a new leader. Then, the loudspeakers crackle, and a solemn figure steps forward: Cardinal Protodeacon Dominique Mamberti, charged with announcing the name of the new Pope. The cries of the crowd gradually give way to total silence. A silence filled with anticipation.

The long-awaited phrase echoes under Bernini's colonnades. “Habemus Papam.” Two little words that electrify the faithful gathered there. The new pope has taken the name Leo XIV. A new shepherd for the universal Church. A new voice for the Gospel. The cries of “Viva il Papa” resume with renewed vigor.

But in the square, few have understood who the next pope is. “Who is it?” asks a Portuguese woman to a group of priests. They don't seem to have heard the name either. Never mind, in the meantime, it is the name of Leo that the faithful chant vigorously and fervently.

When the Pope appears an hour after the white smoke, dressed in white and visibly moved, the crowd erupts a second time. It’s an entire people welcoming their pastor. It’s not just a man who appears: It’s continuity, an ancient spirit reborn, a faith turned toward the future.

Cardinal Robert Francis Prevost, 69, an American from Chicago and missionary in the Andes, is the new pope. 

“Peace be with you all!” are his first words. “I too would like this first greeting of peace to enter your hearts, to reach your families.” Aware that the role of Peter's successor goes beyond his title of Bishop of Rome and even Pastor of the world's Catholics, Leo XIV continued, addressing “all persons, wherever they may be, all peoples, the whole earth: peace be with you!” This was met with loud applause from the Romans and faithful from around the world present in the square.

It was almost 8 p.m. when the Pope left the loggia after being so warmly welcomed by the people of God. St. Peter's Square gradually emptied, everyone rejoicing at having experienced this historic moment. On this night of May 8, the breath of the Holy Spirit rose. And the Church, once again, made its message resound throughout the world.