Reflections: The Pope from My Birthplace

The announcement of Pope Leo XIV greeting the public after his election touched me deeply. It reminded me of the times I visited St. Peter's Church in the Loop of Chicago for Mass.

The Mass I often attended was held at 5:30 PM, mostly frequented by janitorial and maintenance staff who were already dressed for work. They paused to offer prayers as they commenced their night shifts, while formally dressed office workers headed home from nearby high-rises.

Marta, who worked as a cleaner in our building, introduced me to what they called 'the cleaning crew Mass.' Marta came from Poland, and during the recitation of ‘I believe in God, the Father Almighty, Creator of heaven and earth…’ with the priest, a multitude of accents rang out: from Poland, Mexico, Italy, China, Lithuania, and Ireland. It was as if our words painted a picture of the world.

The congregations were relatively small, creating an intimate atmosphere where faces became familiar. Most attendees were like Marta, stopping by to pray at the start of her work night, or like me, seeking solace after a workday. The exchange of peace—when people reach out to shake hands saying, 'Peace be with you'—often made me ponder about the rarity of such a heartfelt connection with strangers hailing from diverse places. Our prayers may have varied, yet we shared a common hope for peace.

I also recall the elation Marta and her fellow Polish compatriots experienced when Pope John Paul II, the first Polish pope, visited Chicago in 1979. I held a rosary Marta lent me in my pocket while covering the Mass in Grant Park. When I handed it back, she embraced it close, saying, 'I sense his presence.'

As Pope Leo XIV spoke from the St. Peter’s Basilica balcony on Thursday, memories of the Chicago St. Peter's flashed before me. The current attendees at those Masses might witness Pope Leo, once known locally as Father Bob, and think, 'He was one of us.'