The visit of Pope Leo XIV is generating more than notable public expectation. He is a figure who, contrary to what was initially thought when he was elected a year ago – after a papacy as emblematic as that of Francis – has quickly carved out a prominent place in the global public arena. How? With stances in favor of welcoming immigrants, warning against the dangers of artificial intelligence under the control of large corporations (his recent first encyclical emphasizes this), and in favor of a Christian humanism based on dialogue and tolerance with diversity. It is from this doctrinal and ideological basis that the American Prevost has clearly distanced himself from the warmongering and ultranationalist policy of his country's president, Donald Trump, and from the most conservative Church in both the US and other latitudes.

Trump will pass. Leo XIV will remain. The Church already has it, this: it has been lasting for 2,000 years. Its horizon is distant, infinitely more stable than the legislature of a stagnant liberal democracy. At the pace of eternity, Robert Francis Prevost is the 267th Pope. The Church is not democratic, of course. It is pyramidal. Now it wants to be synodal (from synod), that is, more participatory and plural: Pope Francis began to open doors in decision-making processes to laypeople and women, and to peripheral figures far from the walls of the Vatican. Leo XIV is following this path, that of a collegial and decentralized ecclesial government. When young Robert Francis once asked his mother, Mildred Martínez, if she wanted to be like men, she replied: "No, because we are already better!" A wise and brave woman behind the new American Pope. The one of a silent revolution?