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By Shane Gilreath
Habemus Papam. We have a pope. A few years ago, when studying Theology at the Augustine Institute, I made what some might call an unwise, if not impromptu decision – to take up Latin. Though it was not required, as it is in some programs, having studied a lot of languages in the past, I knew that I was not a natural linguist, but if I were going to plunge headfirst into the study of the faith, knowing the historic tongue of the church could prove advantageous. That I walked away with the simple Trinitarian Formula seemed successful enough: in nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti. While it’s safe to say the Latin language may not be my greatest forte, nor languages my greatest gift, I have possessed a long-held captivation with the church and its history. In fact, I’ve often said – on my bucket list, as a matter of fact – that diving into the Vatican archives would rank highly on my proverbial wish list. In recent times – largely the result of tragedies, like the fire at Notre-Dame – the world has collectively learned of many of the church’s great treasures: pieces of the true cross, the crown of thorns, and the universally renowned (but contentious) Shroud of Turin. Yet, deep within Vatican City, there must rest a multitude of Christianity’s most cherished treasures, both known and unknown, including – one that is known – the tomb attributed to the first pope, St. Peter the Apostle, who rests beneath the altar of St. Peter’s Basilica; an archaeological find from 1939, when a monument was discovered, not (sadly) bearing Latin, but Greek: ‘Petros eni’ Peter is here. Those remains were tested and determined to have belonged to a man in his 60s, who was buried in purple, gold threaded cloth, a sign of status and reverence in ancient Rome. St. Peter, as you might recall, famously died under the persecutions of Nero, choosing, tradition says, to be crucified upside down, being unworthy to die like Christ. His burial site, on the southern slopes of Vatican Hill, had been the site of early Christian pilgrimages, long before the days of Constantine, the first Emperor to convert to the faith, thus legalizing it across the Roman Empire. Despite naysayers (and there are some), when the monument was discovered, Pope Paul VI said, ‘The relics of Saint Peter have been identified in a way we believe convincing.’ What you and I find convincing may well vary, but when contemplating the possibility of that lineage, one can’t help but be awed by the history possessed therein and the continuity on a succession which connects St. Peter, upon whom Jesus bestowed the keys to the kingdom of heaven, to Pope Leo XIV – Bishop of Rome to Bishop of Rome.
So, for those of us who turned our attentions to the Papal Conclave – who watched as white smoke billowed from the chimney of the Sistine Chapel – we had the honor of witnessing history. Felices sumus. Historia nunc est. We are lucky. History is now. And as far as I’m concerned – and I bet Pope Leo would concur – we didn’t need the first US-born pope to know it (though if he wants to let me the archives, that’s an added bonus!).