Leo XIV: The return of symbols

Leo XIV visited Italy’s President, he pulled out all the stops. Leo and President Sergio Mattarella met at the Quirinal Palace this past week, on Oct. 14, in a visit that used the entire ritual of a state visit, an unmistakable signal.

Pope Francis had preferred simplified visits, and refused the escort of mounted cuirassiers on the final stretch of the journey. Francis also eschewed the papal choral dress, which includes the mozzetta and stole, not – as is often mistakenly believed – a symbol of the Pope’s temporal power but of the changed nature of political power under the sign of the Gospel.

The papal dress is red and white because it draws its inspiration from the insignia of the Roman Empire, which was handed down from Emperor Constantine, who also made Catholicism the State religion of the empire. Symbolically, it signifies the transition from the empire of power to the empire of love, even to the gift of life.

It is fair to note that, when Mattarella visited Leo XIV on June 6 of this year, he conducted a “private” visit, a much simplified ritual compared to a state visit, and a reasonable accomodation given the circumstances. It would have been complicated, during a Jubilee Year, to clear St. Peter’s Square to allow the Italian procession to enter undisturbed through the Arch of the Bells and then carry out the entire ceremonial, which protocol dictates should include an exchange of speeches and even a meeting between the President and the Diplomatic Corps accredited to the Holy See.

Pope Francis’s pontificate had brought about a deconstruction of symbols. The Argentine Pope had the desire and vision to demonstrate a papacy on a human scale, close to the people. In this, his vision was explicitly rooted in Argentine populism. Yet the leader, by stripping himself of his symbols and telling others he was equal, actually does the opposite: he sends the message that he is superior and lowers himself to the people.

Pope Francis didn’t just refuse the mozzetta, which he never wore on any occasion. In 2020, he requested a controversial change to the Annuario Pontificio, the Vatican’s “Who’s Who.” The first page of the Yearbook is always dedicated to the Pope and all his titles.

Pope Francis chose a different approach: the first page of the Yearbook featured Francis’s name and his biography, while the next page included a list of what were called “Historical Titles.”

The message was clear: the Pope emphasized his role as pastor, while the titles became a legacy of the past. Important, yes, but historical.

The first of the historical titles in the Yearbook was that of Vicar of Christ, and this also created potential problems in ecumenical dialogue. Because if the Pope is Vicar of Christ only by historical title, then he does not have primacy, but is merely first in the body of bishops. A first among equals, whose decision is recognized by election, not by the Holy Spirit.

However, the title of Primate of Italy was also singled out among the historic titles. And Francis, in fact, had also asked the Italian Episcopal Conference to elect its own President. But the Italian bishops, precisely because the Pope is Primate of Italy, had decided that the Pope should choose their President, and that at most they would propose a shortlist of three. Moreover, Pope Francis has always personally chosen—or had chosen—the President of the bishops, without much synodality.

Leo XIV declared himself Primate of Italy in his speech at the Quirinale Palace before the President of the Republic. He accepted the state ceremonial, which included welcoming the pontiff to the Italian border, in St. Peter’s Square. He wore the mozzetta and stole once worn by John Paul II, which bore among its symbols the “tiara,” the papal tiara that Paul VI had abandoned and sold, symbolically donating the proceeds to people experiencing poverty.

Leo XIV is thus bringing back to the forefront the symbols of the pontificate that Pope Francis had set aside. With Pope Francis, the person of the Pope took center stage. Leo XIV, however, accepts all the symbols, vests with particular attention to the liturgy, and wants to be present.

This return to symbols is also evident in small details. From the fact that cardinals wear their choir robes when they meet him—Pope Francis requested the “clergyman” from bishops and cardinals during the Synod sessions—to the fact that the Pope carefully wears the stole of his choir robe when he meets Catholic heads of state and does not wear it when Catholic sovereigns are not present, even to the car the Pope uses to get around.

But it is also evident in the appeal of the Vatican trial over the management of the Secretariat of State’s funds, because the Tribunal has finally drawn a line between Vatican and Italian legislation, going so far as to define it in a ruling as “the neighboring Republic.”

Ultimately, there is a concept of papal dignity that transcends the person, or the image one wishes to project, but is instead informed by the substance of history. Incredibly, the one bringing the ancient symbols of the pontificate back to the forefront is an American Pope, a New World Pope, who may have been reasonably expected not to carry the cultural weight of two thousand-year-old tradition. Still, it is the representative of a Republic that will only celebrate its quarter-millennium next year.

Leo XIV is still learning how to be Pope, and various situations bear witness to this, the impromptu interviews he gives every time he leaves Castel Gandolfo being only one of them. They have sparked considerable discussion. (Remember the story of the prize awarded to Senator Durbin?) His decision to publish an apostolic exhortation that was Francis’s, Dilexi Te, is another illustration at least of the presence of the past in his evident desire to remain always above the fray.

We are dealing with a Pope, however, who understands the institutions, their history, and their enduring importance. At least, Leo does not despise them. This isn’t a pontificate that seeks to break with the past, as is evident from the numerous references to Pope Francis in his speeches. Instead, it is a pontificate that aims to connect the past, even the most distant, with the present.

Meanwhile, step by step, Leo XIV is beginning to get his hands on the most sensitive issues. The five judges in the Rupnik case have finally been appointed. The management of Vatican funds is no longer the exclusive responsibility of the Institute for the Works of Religion, and a new prefect has been appointed at the Dicastery for Bishops.

The major transition in the American episcopate will have to wait, perhaps even until the end of next year, after Leo XIV likely makes his first return trip to the United States.

Meanwhile, Cardinal Blaise Cupich, Archbishop of Chicago, has been appointed to the Vatican City State Commission. The current Archpriest of the Vatican Basilica, Cardinal Mauro Gambetti, has been removed from the same commission.

On the one hand, the Pope’s decision points Gambetti towards exile. On the other hand, the Pope is giving Cupich a position that signals his farewell to Chicago, but also one about which he potentially knows nothing. Is this a way to point the way out?

Is it a position that will replace that of the Archbishop of Chicago?

Only time will tell.