Beyond Red Robes

By Herman M. Lagon

In a time when the world once again looks to the Sistine Chapel for divine smoke signals—this time following Pope Francis’s passing last week—the name of Cardinal Luis Antonio “Chito” Tagle quietly echoes through the marble halls of the Vatican and the hearts of many Filipino faithful.

At 67, the former Archbishop of Manila and current Pro-prefect of the Vatican’s Dicastery for Evangelization is often mentioned as a potential successor to the throne of St. Peter. But let us be clear: this is not an election in the way we usually understand elections. The papal conclave is not about popularity, race, or national pride. As the Catholic Bishops’ Conference of the Philippines (CBCP) gently reminded us, this sacred process must be free from campaigning. Filipinos are instead urged to pray for all cardinal electors so that the Holy Spirit may guide them.

Still, we cannot help but hope.

Not because Cardinal Tagle is Filipino, but because he is the kind of leader the world seems to quietly long for—gentle but grounded, brilliant but approachable, deeply pastoral but never performative. His qualifications extend far beyond an impressive academic résumé: summa cum laude from Ateneo, a doctorate from the Catholic University of America, and experience serving on the frontlines of Vatican diplomacy. But people remember his humanness—his tendency to weep during homilies, his ability to listen without judgment, his consistent presence among the poor and forgotten.

That authenticity makes him relatable—not only to the College of Cardinals, but also to jeepney drivers, market vendors, and OFWs attending Mass in faraway chapels. It is the kind of resonance that cannot be forced. It is earned.

In the last decade, under the guidance of Pope Francis, Tagle has been entrusted with some of the most future-shaping responsibilities in the Church. Cardinal Tagle has long lived Pope Francis’ vision of a Church that walks with the forgotten. Before leading the Dicastery for Evangelization, he was already sharing the Gospel in Tagalog online, sitting with migrants, and choosing quiet presence to overpower. Whether in delicate talks with China or simply listening to the poor, Tagle leads with empathy, not ego—always drawn to the wounded, the seeking, and the unheard.

But the road ahead is not easy. Critics point out his soft-spoken approach to state power and ecclesiastical controversies during his time in Manila. Some question his silence in the face of pressing global issues. But perhaps his silence, like the silence of diplomacy and discernment, is not weakness—but strategy. He does not provoke; he proposes. He does not grandstand; he grounds. And sometimes, especially in an age of noise, that is the rarer courage.

While Cardinal Tagle’s candidacy excites many Filipinos, it also sparks a deeper conversation about vocation and vision. The truth is that religious vocations in the Philippines—once a stronghold of priestly and religious life—have seen a gradual decline. But imagine the ripple effect if one of our own were to lead the global Church. As seen in other fields, like the rise of law students during the Corona impeachment, the boom of health science enrollees after the pandemic, or the surge in young athletes inspired by Hidilyn Diaz and Carlos Yulo—a Tagle papacy might inspire a new wave of seminarians and lay leaders eager to serve. It could rekindle the spiritual imagination of a generation.

Still, we must return to what this moment truly demands: reverence. The conclave is not a political race. It is a prayerful process. The cardinals are not voters in the secular sense, and the Holy Spirit is not swayed by social media trends or national pride. Whether or not Cardinal Tagle is elected, we pray not for outcomes but for grace, not for victory, but for vision.

But in a world aching for healing and hope, it is worth reflecting on why so many hearts are drawn to Tagle. Perhaps it is because he reflects the Church we dream of—gentle yet just, humble yet clear, rooted in tradition but open to today’s needs.

For now, we watch and wait—not as campaigners but as companions in faith. If Cardinal Tagle steps onto that balcony, it will not just spark Filipino pride—it will light a quiet, shared hope across the world. In a time of noise, it will remind us that compassion still matters and that the Church’s future may rest in gentler hearts.

But even if it is not Tagle and someone just as humble and grace-filled is chosen, we will rejoice. Because what we ultimately pray for is not a Filipino pope but the right shepherd for these times—someone who can guide with wisdom, walk with empathy, and lead with love.

After all, the Church does not just need a figure in red robes. It needs a shepherd who walks in worn sandals, weeps when the people weep, and dares to hope when the world feels uncertain.

And if that shepherd happens to speak with an accent we are familiar with—then perhaps, just perhaps—the Church hears the prayers of the peripheries more closely than we think.

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Doc H fondly describes himself as a ‘student of and for life’ who, like many others, aspires to a life-giving and why-driven world that is grounded in social justice and the pursuit of happiness. His views herewith do not necessarily reflect those of the institutions he is employed or connected with.