Pope Leo XIV Reflects on Conclave Election: 'Here We Go, Lord'

Pope Leo XIV sat down with reporters aboard a plane returning from his first papal journey to Turkey and Lebanon, and for the first time he described the moment his election became real. The votes were moving his way during the May conclave. By the third ballot on the second day, it was clear to everyone in the room what was happening. He was going to be pope.

"I took a deep breath," he told the journalists gathered around him. "I said 'Here we go Lord. You're in charge and you lead the way.'" That simple prayer, he explained, captured his entire approach to the role that had just claimed him. He had resigned himself to the inevitable and handed the rest to God. The conclave itself had moved with remarkable speed—just four ballots total—and Leo, the former Cardinal Robert Prevost, would become the first American pope in history.

Over the course of a half-hour conversation conducted in English, Spanish, and Italian, Leo revealed a man far more at ease with the machinery of the papacy than he had appeared in his earliest weeks. He fielded questions about Hezbollah and Israel in Lebanon, about Venezuela and the risks of military intervention, about his future travels. He joked with reporters about his expressive face and how they often misread it. "You're not always correct," he said, drawing laughs. But beneath the ease was something more deliberate: a pope who was paying attention to what was being written about him, who understood the power of narrative, and who was learning to navigate it.

When asked what he was thinking when he saw the enormous crowds at his Lebanon events, Leo pushed back gently against the assumption that surprise had registered on his face. He suggested instead that journalists were reading meaning into expressions that might mean something else entirely. If people wanted to understand him, he said, they should look to his spirituality. Beyond St. Augustine, the fifth-century theologian who shaped his religious order, Leo pointed to a 17th-century book by Brother Lawrence called "The Practice of the Presence of God." It described a form of prayer in which a person simply gives his life to the Lord and allows the Lord to lead. "If you want to know something about me, that's been my spirituality for many years," he said.

That spirituality had been tested before. Leo had lived in Peru for two decades as a missionary, serving through years of terrorism and upheaval. He had been called to places he never expected to serve. In each instance, he said, he had learned to trust in God. The conclave was simply another chapter in that same story. When he saw the votes accumulating in his favor, he accepted it. "I resigned myself to the fact when I saw how things were going and I said 'This could be a reality,'" he recalled.

What struck him most during his inaugural trip was the enthusiasm of young Catholics. They had gathered in large numbers, and Leo found himself thinking about why they had come. "I say to myself, 'They're here because they want to see Jesus Christ and they want to see a messenger of peace,'" he said. The energy of those young people, their response to a message of peace, was what he called awe-inspiring. He hoped he would never grow tired of appreciating it.

Looking ahead, Leo outlined an ambitious travel schedule. He wants to visit Africa next year, with particular focus on Algeria because of its role in Christian-Muslim dialogue and its connection to St. Augustine. He also hopes to travel to Latin America—Argentina, Uruguay, and Peru—in 2026 or 2027. Peru especially holds meaning for him, the place where he spent two decades before his calling took him elsewhere. Argentina, he noted, had been waiting for a papal visit since Pope Francis's election in 2013.

On the question of Venezuela, Leo urged the United States toward dialogue and economic pressure rather than military threats. The voices from Washington shifted too frequently, he suggested. There were other ways to pursue change, other paths to explore. It was the same philosophy that had guided him through the conclave and into the papacy itself: trust, patience, and a willingness to let events unfold as they would.