White smoke, followed by joy, reflection
VATICAN CITY -- In two weeks of pomp and ceremony, it was the most dramatic and suspenseful piece of theater yet. Minute by minute, as doubt resolved into certainty, the next leader of the Catholic Church was unveiled last night in front of a huge and growing crowd in St. Peter's Square.
First came the smoke from the Sistine Chapel's stark and remote chimney: tiny wisps that looked white, and for the first time this week stayed white. Then, 15 minutes later, the great bell beneath the clock of St. Peter's began to swing, slowly at first, and then boldly tolling the news that deep inside the Vatican, a new pope had been chosen.
Finally, under a strange sky that mixed patches of blue and spattering of rain, the thick crimson curtains of the basilica balcony parted to reveal a new pope.
By the time Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger emerged in a crimson stole and white skullcap as Pope Benedict XVI, St. Peter's Square had filled with Italians, tourists, and faithful who wanted to be on hand for the coming of the 265th Roman pontiff.
In sharp contrast to the controlled crowds of John Paul II's funeral, the people soon pressed in to the point where it was difficult to move, with some surging through barriers and others clinging in human tiers around the square's great lampposts.
Flags from dozens of countries waved. A group of US seminary students lit cigars and high-fived one another. After Ratzinger delivered his first blessing, with much of the crowd kneeling on the gray paving stones, a group of Italian teenagers took up the soccer-style chant of a name that had been inscribed into the Vatican records less than an hour before: ''Be-ne-DETT-o, Be-ne-DETT-o."
Though Ratzinger is often considered to be among the more polarizing figures in the Vatican, the crowd in St. Peter's Square greeted him warmly, with clear relief at the suggestion of unity behind the cardinals' swift decision. Many also welcomed him as a firm hand who would continue the doctrinal rigor of John Paul II.
''I'm really excited," said Jerry Martinez, 36, a seminarian from Los Angeles. ''I think we'll need someone who's going to take the [last] pope's lead. He needs to be 100 percent sure of his Catholic beliefs. . . . He can't be wishy-washy."
Not everyone was as invigorated by the choice. As enthusiastic crowds surged forward, others pulled back into small groups and mused on the future of the church.
Many waved flags from distant countries -- Nigeria, Venezuela, Mexico, Korea -- reflecting their hope that the face of the new pope would reflect the increasingly global spread of Catholicism.
''I was a bit disappointed," said John di Cruz, from Malaka, Malaysia. ''I was expecting someone from a . . . country like India. I was expecting an African or an Asian. But after reflecting for a while, I realized that maybe it is just not the time."
An informal community had been growing in St. Peter's Square, settling into the banks of chairs lined up facing the basilica, bringing snacks, water, radios, and cellphones. The first two puffs of smoke -- Monday around 8 p.m., then yesterday morning just before noon -- emerged looking fairly white at first, before turning to thick black clouds.
If yesterday's two afternoon votes had been unsuccessful, the schedule called for the cardinals to burn their ballots around 7 p.m. So the timing itself -- a stream of smoke at 5:50 -- was the first indication that the decision had come.
As the smoke continued to pour out, the cries went up: ''Bianca! Bianca!" (White! White!)
Lina Nurra, from Sardinia, was sobbing when she saw the white smoke. ''I am crying for John Paul," she said, wiping tears from her eyes and smiling. Standing with her two children, she said, ''I am so glad they are here to know what this moment feels like."
Announcers on some local radio stations reported, wrongly, that the smoke was black, creating some confusion. Soon the bells began to toll, erasing doubt. Some people held their cellphone cameras high; some simply fixed their eyes on the balcony or on the jumbo video screens mounted at the feet of colossal statues of St. Peter and St. Paul.
The crowd, by now as large as 100,000 people, hushed as Cardinal Jorge Arturo Medina Estevez of Chile arrived on the central balcony of St. Peter's to greet the gathering in several languages. Many puzzled for a moment about whether the Spanish-speaking cardinal might be the new pope. But then he said the words many had already been chanting -- ''Habemus Papam," we have a pope -- and pronounced a name that left no doubt: ''Ratzinger."
After the German pope emerged, Anthony Kalba, a priest who had come from Poland to watch the election, was circumspect about what it would mean for Catholics.
''We continue, the church continues," he said. ''For us, a sign of continuity, a sign of reconciliation, too -- between Poland and Germany, something very important."
Ratzinger moved slowly on the balcony, raising his arms and smiling briefly. His first words -- ''After the great Pope John Paul II" -- were immediately met with applause before he could continue: ''The Cardinals have elected me, a simple, humble worker in the vineyard of the Lord."
After his blessing, the crowd struggled to the leave the square, fighting the tide of curious onlookers still streaming in. As the cardinals retired to dinner at their hotel within the Vatican, a thinning crowd stayed in St. Peter's, singing songs, playing harmonicas and guitars, overshadowed by the illuminated statues of the saints on the colonnade high above.
Globe correspondent Sofia Celeste contributed to this report. 