From Peru to the Papacy: The Journey of Pope Leo XIV

As a Peruvian American who once served as an altar boy and attended Catholic educational institutions, I finally feel a sense of pride and connection.

I always believed that my moment would eventually arrive.

The announcement on Thursday of Robert Prevost's elevation to Pope Leo XIV felt, as my mother described it, like a divine gift. Though born in the United States, the new pope dedicated many years to ministry in my homeland of Peru and even acquired Peruvian citizenship. When Prevost was declared pope, my wife was incredulous, asking, “An American pope?” I responded with equal surprise, “A Peruvian pope!”

Learning of the pope’s American origins prompted me to reflect on the broader implications for the Catholic Church in the United States—considering the internal divisions, the country's moral voice on the global stage, and the legacy left by Pope Francis. This was my perspective as a journalist and observer, looking forward.

Yet, it was Prevost’s Peruvian ties that resonated deeply. I thought of the devoted community in Chiclayo, the northern coastal city where he once served as bishop, and the pride his former parishioners must feel. I recalled the American missionaries—priests, nuns, and laypeople—who educated my family across generations in Lima. I also remembered attending a scorching outdoor youth Mass during Pope John Paul II’s 1985 visit to Peru, when authorities sprayed water on the crowd to cool us down as we cheered, “¡Juan Pablo, amigo, el Perú está contigo!”—a chant that rhymes better in Spanish.

These reflections came from my perspective as a Catholic, a believer, and an immigrant whose path crossed with Leo’s in a reversed journey. I was born in Lima and have lived most of my life in the United States; he was born in Chicago and devoted much of his life to Peru. I embraced America, and he embraced Peru. Though coincidental, witnessing him on that balcony felt like an unexpected affirmation of my dual identity, my choices, and my faith.

For me, John Paul II remains the defining image of the papacy. Neither Benedict nor Francis displaced him. As a child, I saw John Paul as part pope, part heroic figure—confronting Communism one day and extending forgiveness to his would-be assassin the next. It was a family point of pride that my great-uncle Alcides Mendoza, who was the youngest bishop at the Second Vatican Council and later archbishop of Cuzco, had the honor of guiding John Paul during his visit to Peru. This personal connection only deepened my admiration for the Polish pontiff.