On September 30, 2023, Pope Francis presided over a consistory that created 21 new cardinals. Among them was a 68-year-old Augustinian friar from Chicago, Robert Francis Prevost, who had recently been appointed prefect of the Dicastery for Bishops.
He stood alongside men from every corner of the world — the Latin Patriarch of Jerusalem, the Archbishop of Cape Town, the Bishop of Hong Kong. In the sweep of faces and red hats that filled St. Peter’s Square that day, few could have imagined that Cardinal Prevost would -- just two years later -- be chosen to guide the universal Church as Pope Leo XIV.
It was a remarkable moment for him personally. At an age when many are looking toward retirement, Cardinal Prevost was taking on one of the most demanding posts in the Roman Curia: overseeing the appointment of bishops worldwide. It was a sign of Pope Francis’ confidence in him.
Yet even then, it was not the trappings of office that marked him out, but something deeper.
In his homily that day, Francis reminded the new cardinals that true greatness is found in “closeness, compassion, and tenderness.” By all accounts, these were qualities Prevost had already lived for decades — as a missionary in Peru, as a religious superior, as a pastor with a quiet gift for listening.
Looking back now, those words feel providential. For just two years later, in the conclave of 2025, it was precisely those qualities that his brother cardinals seem to have recognized and trusted. To rise from cardinal to pope in such a short span is not the result of worldly ambition, but of something more subtle: the sense that the Holy Spirit was at work, guiding the Church through the hands and votes of its leaders.
God’s timing is rarely our own
Providence often works in ways we only understand in hindsight. Cardinal Prevost’s late promotion to the College of Cardinals was not a stepping-stone he had sought. It was, however, the beginning of a path that would lead him to an even greater responsibility.
And perhaps that is the quiet lesson of this anniversary: that God’s timing is rarely our own. At 68, when many might consider stepping back, he was asked to step forward in service. At almost 70, he was entrusted with the greatest pastoral mission of all.
It’s worth pausing to consider the impression he must have made. To be elected pope after only two years in the College suggests a man who inspired confidence — not through force of personality or grand gestures, but through steady humility and the kind of leadership Francis described: rooted in closeness, compassion, and tenderness.
Two years on from that September morning in St. Peter’s, the memory of the consistory now carries a different weight. What was then an honor shared with 20 other churchmen has become, in retrospect, the threshold to a new papacy. And for those of us watching from the pews or the sidelines, it is a reminder that the Church’s story is still one of surprises — of Providence breaking through when least expected.
So as we mark this anniversary, perhaps we can take a little inspiration ourselves. Life rarely unfolds according to our plans. Yet God has a way of calling us forward, even at times when we think our best work is behind us. Pope Leo XIV’s journey from a red hat to the Chair of Peter in just two years is a striking testament to that. Not because it was likely, or even logical, but because it shows what can happen when providence takes the lead.
