The movie "Conclave" was widely viewed before the actual Conclave last week that elected Pope Leo XIV.
Doubtless it has been viewed many times since. As timing goes, this film hit the jackpot. It is not without its critics. It is not a perfect portrayal of how the princes of the church go about their business behind high walls and closed doors when a pope dies and a successor is anointed.
But it's not all that far off the mark, and it certainly deserved recognition in various film award events, not least the Academy Awards.
Virtually all the actors in the movie are men. But of course this has to be the case as it portrays a gathering of Catholic cardinals.
But the film includes a fascinating female character, Sister Agnes, a nun played by the always outstanding Isabella Rossellini.
Sister Agnes has no say in the election of the new pope. Well, no formal vote. But she is a keeper of secrets and possesses a degree of knowledge and power that only comes with a highly intelligent mind, one possessed by a person who has worked within the Vatican for a significant length of time.
Agnes is a woman in a man's place, but she is not on call to cook for the cardinals, or do their laundry. Her character is indeed one of the most intriguing in a cast of intriguing characters.
Suffice it to say, there has to be a real life Sister Agnes; likely a few of her kind.
The role of women in the Catholic Church is frequently praised by the men who run it. And that praise comes from the very top.
The late Pope Francis went beyond praise. He appointed women for the first mime as members of the Dicastery headed by the future Pope Leo. These women are two religious and one laywoman. They are Raffaella Petrini, Yvonne Reungoat, and María Lía Zervino.
A Dicastry is the Curia's equivalent of a government department or ministry. In this instance, the Dicastry headed by the then Cardinal Robert Francis Prevost was charged with selecting new bishops.
We will pass over for now the irony of women being involved in choosing men for posts in the church that they are themselves not allowed to fill. In terms of church history, what Francis did was a big deal.
Last week, after white smoke appeared from the chimney atop the Sistine Chapel, a great cheer arose from the throng in St. Peter's Square.
Many in the crowd were nuns, members of various orders from around the world. Their collective joy was unbounded.
How much greater their joy had this subsequently happened: Habemus Papam! The newly elected pope emerges onto the papal balcony, the Loggia. He smiles and waves. There are others around him smiling too. They are all men.
But wait, there is another person on the balcony. She, yes she, is in the background, behind the male phalanx, but clearly visible. She is not moving or waving but TV cameras clearly show her to be smiling. Who is she?
Well, if this scene is from "Conclave," the sister on the balcony has to be Sister Agnes. That for sure would have been a cinematic surprise courtesy of the script writers.
In real life the woman is an equivalent of sister Agnes: a woman who has served the church, faithfully, and at times ferociously. She did not have a vote in the election of the new pope standing just feet away. But her obvious joy speaks volumes, while her physical presence stands for a moral authority shared by all the women who serve the church.
There is a barely detectable moment of stunned silence in the square. And then a cry of surprise. The new pope smiles even more broadly. He has done something very small in physical terms, but something enormously big in symbolic terms.
This all did not happen. As with "Conclave," it is imagined.
Be that as it may, the election of Leo XIV was a standout event, for the church and for the world. We wish all the very best for his papacy. Leo, of Chicago and America, of Peru, has big shoes to fill, and many challenges are ahead.
He does not have to face these challenges entirely alone. He has his brothers in the church to turn to for advice, for help, for prayer. And he has his sisters.
There will be many more moments on the Loggia. Perhaps, just perhaps.
