The Moment in History When the See Ceases to Be Vacant

A cardinal has reached the fateful threshold of two-thirds of the electors – that is, 89 votes in the May 2025 conclave. From that point on, silence fills the Sistine Chapel. The last of the cardinal-deacons, a discreet figure in ordinary times but essential here, then calls the secretary of the Sacred College, the master of pontifical liturgical celebrations, and two officers of ceremonies into the room where the vote took place.

Indeed, it is up to these men, witnesses to history, to record the moment when the Church receives its new pastor. Cardinal Pietro Parolin is the first of the cardinals by order and seniority, since the dean, Cardinal Giovanni Battista Re, and the vice-dean, Cardinal Leonardo Sandri, have both reached the age limit and are not attending the conclave.

The former Secretary of State, on behalf of the entire College of Cardinals, addresses the elect: "Do you accept your canonical election as Supreme Pontiff?" This seemingly simple question is loaded with meaning. It commits the elected one to a mission that transcends his person, because the acceptance given in a breath, marks the moment when a man becomes the Vicar of Christ.

If consent is obtained, a second question follows: "What do you wish to be called?" The choice of name is more than a formality; it is a symbolic act, a declaration of intent. By choosing a name, the new pope reveals what he intends to do with his pontificate. The master of liturgical celebrations, acting as a notary, then records this acceptance and this name in an official document, under the watchful eye of the two masters of ceremonies, guardians of the truth of this moment.

The acceptance of the elected one marks a decisive turning point, as he immediately becomes Bishop of Rome, the Pope, the Head of the Episcopal College. At that precise moment, he receives full and supreme power over the universal Church. Given the configuration of the 2025 conclave, we are not taking into account the improbable and purely theoretical case of a cardinal not vested with the episcopate: in that case, his episcopal consecration would be immediately required.

Once the formalities are completed, according to the Ordo rituum Conclavis, the cardinal electors come forward to pay homage to the new Pontiff. This act of obedience, imbued with respect and communion, symbolizes the unity of the Church around its head. Then a prayer of thanksgiving is offered, the ballots from the final round are burned, and white smoke rises from the small chimney of the Sistine Chapel.

The long-awaited moment then arrives: the announcement to the world. The first of the cardinal-deacons—Corsican Cardinal Domenico Mamberti—from the blessing box of St. Peter's Basilica, proclaims the election and reveals the name of the new pope. The crowd gathered in the square holds its breath before bursting into cheers. "Habemus Papam!"

The new pope, ushered into the "Room of Tears," dons the white cassock, the crimson mozetta, the pectoral cross, and the stole, and contemplates himself in a large mirror. It is often at this moment that tears of emotion roll down the folds of his face. A few moments later, appearing on the balcony, the new Vicar of Christ offers his first Urbi et Orbi blessing, a gesture that embraces the city of Rome and the entire world.

The Substitute of the Secretariat of State, the Secretary for Relations with States, the Prefect of the Pontifical Household, and other key figures can then approach the Roman Pontiff to address urgent matters.

In the days that follow, a ceremony—much less solemn than in the past—marks the inauguration of the pontificate. Within a suitable timeframe, the 267th successor of Peter takes possession of the Lateran Archbasilica, "mother and head of all the churches." This rite, rooted in Roman tradition, consecrates the indissoluble bond between the Pope and the Eternal City.