To You, the American Church
By Xhoana Memçaj
Where were you when Pope Leo XIV was elected?
On that busy spring day, I was working on a sample in the fume hood when I received a notification that white smoke was visible from the Sistine Chapel. I excitedly paused my work, eager to tune in to a livestream. With great anticipation, I waited and watched—alongside millions of others—to see who would become the successor to Pope Francis and occupy the seat of the Apostle Peter.
Countless predictions regarding ‘papabile’ cardinals dominated the media, and I found myself swept up in the frenzy circulated and amplified by news outlets. Admittedly, my focus was misplaced; I should have been watching for the Holy Spirit, trusting that God would place a holy man to captain the Church. Yet like many others that day, I had been so immersed in the popular papal predictions that the name Robert Prevost did not ring a bell when it was pronounced from the Vatican balcony. Still, I think many will agree that the historic election of Pope Leo XIV was truly unprecedented.
And yet—how could his election be a coincidence? The Holy Spirit chose an American rock on which to continue building His Church. One might even say that God does not shy away from controversy, especially in an age when various polls and articles suggest an ever-increasing anti-American sentiment, even among Western countries—including my own, Belgium.
My first encounter with the American Church began simply, born of habit and a desire to keep my family’s customs alive while living abroad. I decided to attend Sunday Mass at Boston’s Cathedral of the Holy Cross. Now older, abroad, and without the fidgeting and whispering of my younger brothers beside me, I knew this Mass would feel different from those I had attended back home. I
n Belgium, we traditionally end our visit to church by walking up to the altar and kneeling, so I followed that same custom at the cathedral—this time, alone. Standing before the altar without anyone by my side felt jarring at first, but it was precisely in that moment that God revealed His goodness to me. Gradually, a deeper conversion of faith began to unfold. I had to adjust to this new chapter of my life alone, and yet the silence of that transition made me yearn even more for God’s fatherly voice.
During subsequent Masses, I lifted my eyes and prayed that God would send people to walk this unknown path with me. And He did—not the kind of friends I thought I needed, but the souls He knew would be my best companions. In them, God showed me His loving face many times over during my stay in the United States.
It is true that, in one sense, I left my close family behind in Europe. Yet even while far from those familiar treasures, I have come to understand the importance and depth of a loving, passionate Christian community. God has, in a way, repackaged the gift of family in other forms. I find immense comfort in knowing that I am part of a diverse and expansive family—bound together by and for the love of Jesus. Through fellowship with other Christians, I have grown to appreciate ever more deeply our rich religious tradition, especially the Catholic faith.
Regardless of nationality or culture, we must remain united in our identity in Christ. We live in an era that challenges the very essence of Christianity—so much so that, from an outside perspective, being a zealous Christian can seem countercultural.
Once, I attended Mass at the chapel of Massachusetts General Hospital. The priest delivered a homily on the topic of Christian persecutions during the time of the apostles. Still, he also pointed to their ongoing nature to this day. Believers in Christ are oppressed and tested everywhere, even in the comfort of the West. Here, old weapons of persecution have taken a different shape, yet they aren’t necessarily dulled.
Admittedly, the Cross does frighten me. Yet despite everything, the Church remains unshakably steadfast. I find that two of Catholicism’s great beauties continue to unfold before me: its universality and its perseverance. All roads lead to Rome, whether one hails from Chicago or elsewhere.
I believe the recent election of an American pope is a powerful symbol of the Church’s ability to transcend nationality and birthplace. The very meaning of catholic is “universal.” My hope for American Catholics is that Pope Leo XIV’s election serves as an ardent reminder of our shared call to God. As Saint Augustine wrote, “Our hearts are restless until they rest in You.”
By the time you read this, my research year in Boston will have come to an end. There is no doubt that the United States and its people will always remain close to my heart. My final message to you—the American body of Christ—is this: use your position of influence to radiate the light of Christ to your brothers and sisters in the far corners of the world.
I think of the countless Americans who use their social media platforms to share the goodness of the Gospel and the love of Christ. The online world, combined with the global reach of the English language, has become a vital space for those whose faith is under pressure or exists in the minority within their native countries. While Catholicism has never been a majority faith in the U.S., Pope Leo XIV’s papacy can help direct and strengthen the Christian voice for those seeking to share in her joy and hope.
I look forward to seeing how Americans—especially with papal inspiration from their own soil—will breathe new life into Christianity by leading through example. In the meantime, I will strive to carry that American spirit back with me to Belgium.
Lastly, I want to express my gratitude and love to everyone who I have met during my time here, with special thanks to my mentors and friends at the Harvard Catholic Center and Saint Paul’s Parish. Your prayers, blessings, and hopes will be cherished. My blessing and peace I leave with you all. I am convinced that many saints will be born on American soil.
Go, and be salt to the earth,
Xhoana
Contributed by Xhoana Memçaj. Xhoana Memçaj, who hails from Belgium and has Albanian roots, joined the Kreso lab at Massachusetts General Hospital, affiliated with Harvard Medical School, in September 2024. She is now continuing her studies at the Catholic University of Leuven in Belgium.
