Steven LaChance Blog

So—the pope died today. And whether you’re Catholic or not, that hits. The death of a pope is more than just a news item—it’s the symbolic end of an era in one of the oldest, most powerful institutions on Earth. And now, all eyes turn to what comes next.

There’s already talk: What if the next pope is a person of color?

That kind of shift would be monumental. Not just historically, but symbolically. It would signal a major break in the Church’s centuries-long visual and cultural alignment with Europe and whiteness. And for millions around the world, it would be powerful—affirming. But for others, it would feel like a threat. Not because of theology, not because of doctrine, but because of race. Because whiteness has long been the unspoken default for leadership, for authority, for divine approval. And when that illusion is challenged, it shakes people—especially those who’ve benefited from it.

Let’s be honest: power in the hands of non-white people terrifies racists. Full stop.

We saw this in the U.S. with Barack Obama’s election in 2008. For many, it was a moment of hope, of progress. But for others, it was a disruption of a racial order they didn’t even realize they believed in until it was challenged. The backlash was swift and ugly—birther conspiracies, Islamophobia, questions about his legitimacy, his humanity, his loyalty. None of it was subtle. And let’s not pretend Trump’s rise was unrelated. It wasn’t just a political shift; it was a cultural counterpunch. A reclamation of white dominance in the face of growing diversity and shifting power.

That same fear exists on a global scale, and especially within institutions like the Catholic Church. If a person of color—African, Asian, Indigenous, Latin American—were chosen as pope, it would signal that the highest spiritual office in Christianity isn’t reserved for Europeans or those who look like them. It would redefine what holiness and authority look like. It would be beautiful. But it would also unleash a wave of resistance from those who view diversity not as a strength, but as a threat to tradition.

This is where the “Black Pope” prophecy comes in. Originally, it had nothing to do with race. The “Black Pope” was just a nickname for the Jesuit Superior General, who wears black robes and has significant influence. But over time, as white supremacy warped interpretations, people began taking it literally. A pope who wasn’t white? To some, that became a symbol of collapse, of doom, of the end times.

Which begs the question: Why would that kind of leadership feel apocalyptic unless you believed power should always look a certain way?

That’s what all of this comes down to. When people of color step into roles traditionally held by white men—whether it’s the U.S. presidency or the papacy—it triggers a deep-rooted fear in those invested in the old order. It’s not about the individual. It’s about what they represent: a future where power is shared, where leadership reflects the world’s true diversity, where whiteness is no longer the default.

And for some, that’s unacceptable.

This fear isn’t rational—it’s historical. It’s baked into systems that for centuries have equated whiteness with legitimacy. When that equation gets challenged, some people react as if the sky is falling. Because to them, it is. Not literally, of course—but symbolically. Their place at the top is no longer guaranteed.

So whether it’s a pope or a president, this isn’t just about succession. It’s about the deeper fight over who gets to belong. Who gets to lead. Who gets to shape the story. And every time someone from outside the old mold rises up, it forces us to confront the uncomfortable truth: that racism isn’t just alive—it’s structural, emotional, and deeply threatened by change.

In the end, this conversation isn’t just about religion or politics. It’s about race. About the way whiteness has been tethered to power, and the fear that erupts when that bond starts to break. People of color stepping into power doesn’t cause chaos—what causes chaos is the resistance to that power, the refusal to accept a more equitable world.

And yet, despite all that fear, the future is coming. And it looks like everyone.