Colin Devine, Staff Writer

It was an incredibly odd scene. Thousands of people filled an enormous square and gazed intently at a thin, oddly shaped chimney. Suddenly smoke began to issue forth from the chimney and everyone started cheering. The white smoke contrasted beautifully with the dark, Italian sky. This was no ordinary square and certainly no ordinary smoke. I joined in with the cheers, attempting to grasp the gravity of the moment—the Catholic Church had elected a new pope.

I signed up for the spring break Notre Dame Rome Pilgrimage way back when Pope Benedict XVI was pope. For those of us who struggle with history, Notre Dame was the number-one ranked football team in the country at that point. As our planning progressed, we realized there was a chance we would be fortunate enough to witness the election of a new pope. Roughly a week before we left, the date of the conclave was set, smack dab in the center of our trip to Rome.

I attended the national championship in Miami, but both the energy and atmosphere pale in comparison to that which I found in Rome. I would need ten times as much space as I have here to adequately describe the scene and mood in the Vatican at the time, but suffice it to say that I’ve never seen anything like it. When I first arrived at St. Peter’s, I was shocked at two things: The hundreds of cameras that lined the rooftops all around St. Peter’s and how small the chimney on top of the Sistine Chapel was. I had a really difficult time finding it at first, like finding a needle in a haystack, or perhaps more aptly in this case, like finding a smokestack at the most beautiful church in the world.

As I stood there, beholding that miniscule chimney I gained a fresh appreciation for a certain element of genius in Christianity: the emphasis on the particular. Our faith doesn’t center on broad philosophical principles, theological ideals, or complicated ethical guidelines, but rather on one man who lived 2,000 years ago, and specifically on one particular event. Thousands of us stood beholding perhaps the most beautiful church in the world, and all we had eyes for that one particular chimney. Leave it to a PLS major to think all this while staring at a chimney.

One night about halfway through our trip, our group attended Mass at St. Peter’s Basilica. After Mass, we joined the thousands of pilgrims awaiting the smoky announcement, but none of us envisioned that the cardinals would be able to arrive at a 2/3 majority having only voted five times. We had been waiting around two hours, when all of a sudden a loud cry broke across the square. The smoke was white and we joined the thousands yelling, “habemus papam, habemus papam.” We had a pope.

I do not have the ability to effectively summarize the thoughts, emotions and feelings that I had that night in Saint Peter’s Square. If I had to boil it down to one sentence, I was blown away by how happy everyone was. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a group of people as happy as those who filled St. Peter’s square were that night. GK Chesterton believed that “joy is the gigantic secret of the Christian.” After spending that night celebrating with hundreds of thousands of other Catholics, I’m not sure how secret it is anymore.

We saw a ton of beautiful architecture, artwork, and churches throughout our trip, but the most beautiful moment I witnessed came from an entirely unexpected place. After the white smoke went up, different groups were shown on the various big screen TVs that had been erected in the square. Whenever they moved to another group, the people shown began screaming in their native language and waving their country’s flag. I heard more different languages in two minutes in the crowd at St. Peter’s than I heard in the first 19 years of my life. Seeing people of so many different nationalities and cultures excited about their faith, their Church,and their pope was truly an incredible sight. Yet for me, the most incredible moment happened when one of the cameras zoomed in on a praying nun. Amongst the tumult and chaos of St. Peter’s square, she knelt in prayer, eyes closed, a beautiful reminder of why we were there in the first place.

Colin Devine likes turtles. He also likes walking sticks and corn on the cob. Contact him at cdevine1@nd.edu.