Recently, as you probably know, Pope Francis was hospitalized in Rome after a severe bout of bronchitis that led to double pneumonia and a polymicrobial infection. Currently he’s in critical condition. I'll be praying for him in my rosary tonight, and I hope you’ll join me in keeping him in your prayers. With so much buzz online about the possibility of a new pope emerging in the not so distant future, I thought I’d break down, in six quick points, what actually happens when a pope dies and a conclave is called.

1. Sede Vacante and the Camerlengo’s Role

When the pope passes away, the Church enters a phase known as sede vacante—or “the seat being vacant” (and we’ll finally have something in common with Sedevacantists (inside joke. Not funny. Moving on.) Right away, the Camerlengo (currently Kevin Joseph Cardinal Farrell) steps in. His job is to confirm the pope’s death and manage the Vatican’s day-to-day affairs until a new pontiff is elected.

2. Official Announcement and Mourning

Once the pope’s death is confirmed, the Vatican makes a formal announcement to Catholics around the world. This is typically followed by a period of mourning—usually around nine days—giving the faithful time to grieve, pray, and spiritually prepare for the transition.

3. The Gathering of the College of Cardinals

During sede vacante, the College of Cardinals gathers in Rome to deliberate on the future of the Church. According to a quick Google search, there are around 252 cardinals worldwide. However, only those under the age of 80—roughly 120 electors, according to another quick Google search—are eligible to participate in the conclave.

4. The Conclave: Seclusion, Voting, and Symbolism

The new pope is chosen during the conclave, a sequestered setting designed for undistracted, prayerful reflection. The cardinals cast secret ballots over several rounds. You might have seen photos or videos of the Sistine Chapel—the famous smoke signals come from there: black smoke means no decision has been reached yet, and white smoke signals that a new pope has been elected.

5. Divine Guidance: Does God Choose the Pope?

A few times over the past month, I’ve said things I’ve regretted. Probably more than a few times, I’ve said things I should regret but don’t—either because I haven’t realized they were regrettable or because I’ve already forgotten them.

And when you have a large YouTube channel like I do, those regrets can feel all the more magnified. It’s one thing to say something thoughtless or stupid in a private conversation, but it’s another to have your words out there permanently for thousands—sometimes millions—of people to hear. I also am embarrassed to admit—despite the countless teachings of the saints, which we’ll get into below—that I don’t often reflect on just how powerful speech really is. Fr. Basil Nortz, says, “speech is one of the noble prerogatives of our human nature. It is a great dignity, and like all great dignities, it carries a great responsibility.” But that, right there. That sentiment? I almost never think about that.

I know, in principle, that words shape reality, relationships, and even our own souls. But I don’t think I’ve ever, for a sustained period, deliberately refrained from speaking while around other people. The idea of choosing silence—of being intentional about when to speak and when not to—often feels foreign to me. Mea culpa.

I want to get better at this.

St. James, in one of the most striking passages in the New Testament, warns:

"If anyone does not stumble in what he says, he is a perfect man, able also to bridle his whole body... The tongue is a fire, a world of unrighteousness... It is a restless evil, full of deadly poison." (James 3:2, 6, 8)

Or what about this from our Blessed Lord:

“I tell you, on the day of judgment people will give account for every careless word they speak, for by your words you will be justified, and by your words you will be condemned.” (Matthew 12:36-37)

Nervous yet?

Our speech can build up or destroy, lead others to truth or error, and even shape the kind of people we become. The saints, in their wisdom, saw both the necessity of guarding our tongues and the spiritual power of silence. Their words challenge us to rethink how we use speech and to embrace silence as a means of growing in virtue.

Here are ten insights from the saints on the importance of guarding our tongues and cultivating holy silence. Let me know which one struck you below.

1. St. John of the Cross: “What we need most in order to make progress is to be silent before this great God with our appetite and with our tongue, for the language he best hears is silent love.” (Sayings of Light and Love, n. 132)

2. St. Faustina: “In order to hear the voice of God, one has to have silence in one's soul and to keep silence; not a gloomy silence but an interior silence; that is to say, recollection in God.” (Diary of St. Faustina, n. 118)

3. St. Benedict: “Speaking and teaching are the master's task; the disciple is to be silent and listen.” (Rule of St. Benedict, Ch. 6, "Restraint of Speech")

4. St. Francis de Sales: “Speak only when it is more beneficial than silence.” (Introduction to the Devout Life, Part III, Ch. 30)

5. St. Augustine: “The tongue should be restrained, like steam in a pot, so that words do not boil over rashly.” (Exposition on Psalm 39)

6. St. Thomas Aquinas: “A man’s speech is good insofar as it is ordered to good.” (Summa Theologica, II-II, q. 110, a. 1)

7. St. Teresa of Ávila: “I could not understand what good it did to keep filling the world with words.” (The Way of Perfection, Ch. 20)

8. St. Arsenius the Great: “I have often regretted the words I have spoken, but I have never regretted my silence.” (Sayings of the Desert Fathers, Arsenius 13)

9. St. Isaac the Syrian: “Love silence above all things, because it brings you near to fruit that the tongue cannot express.” (Ascetical Homilies, Homily 64)

10. St. Basil the Great: “Speech is the organ of this present world, but silence is the mystery of the world to come.” (Homily on Psalm 28)

Okay. Now I’m going to go inside (I’m writing this out on my porch) and try to implement point number 4. Pray for me, please. And I’ll pray my rosary tonight for all who will read this.

Below is an imagined Socratic dialogue between a Catholic (Leo) and a Protestant (Martin). It is not intended to be an exhaustive argument but rather to help Catholics see that there is strong Patristic evidence for the early Church's belief in the authority of the Pope.

Special thanks to Madeline McCourt for her assistance in editing this article.

Martin: I’ve heard it said that the early Church gave unique authority to the Bishop of Rome, but honestly, I just don’t see it. To me, it seems like a later development rather than something the early Christians actually believed.

Leo: That’s an understandable concern, and one I’ve heard before. But if we take an honest look at the writings of the early Church Fathers, they seem to say something very different. Let’s start with Ignatius of Antioch. He wrote around A.D. 110 and called the Church of Rome the one that “holds the presidency.” Doesn’t that suggest a kind of leadership role?

Martin: Not necessarily. When Ignatius says that Rome “holds the presidency,” he could be referring to its importance as the capital of the empire, not as some kind of spiritual authority.

Leo: That’s an interesting point, but Ignatius doesn’t frame it that way. He’s writing to a church, not the emperor or the civic authorities. And he specifically praises the Roman Church for its spiritual character, saying it’s “worthy of God, worthy of honor, worthy of blessing.” Moreover, he commends them for teaching others and instructing the faithful. That’s not a description of political power—it’s spiritual authority (Letter to the Romans 1:1, 3:1).

Martin: Even so, Ignatius doesn’t explicitly say that the Roman Church has authority over other churches. He’s being respectful, but respect isn’t the same as submission.

Leo: Fair enough, but let’s consider Pope Clement I. Around A.D. 80, he wrote to the church in Corinth to address a serious dispute. He doesn’t just offer advice—he commands them to reinstate their leaders and warns them that disobedience to his letter would put them in “no small danger.” Clement even claims to be speaking “through the Holy Spirit” (Letter to the Corinthians 1, 58–59, 63). Why would a bishop in Rome have the right to intervene in the internal affairs of a church in Greece unless there was an acknowledged authority?

Martin: Maybe Corinth respected Clement’s wisdom, but that doesn’t mean they recognized him as having jurisdiction over them. He could have been acting as a wise elder, not as a pope.

Leo: That’s possible, but Clement’s tone doesn’t suggest he’s merely offering advice. He writes as someone with the authority to settle the matter definitively. And we see this pattern again with later bishops of Rome. Take Pope Victor, who excommunicated the churches in Asia Minor over the date of Easter. Other bishops appealed for peace, but they didn’t deny that Victor had the authority to make such a decision (Eusebius, Church History 5:23:1–24:11). If the early Church didn’t recognize the authority of the Bishop of Rome, why didn’t they challenge his right to excommunicate?