Armed with paper fortune-tellers and pop worship songs, young French Catholics from the Anuncio movement fanned out into the crowds awaiting Pope Leo XIV's arrival in Paris on Friday, hoping to bring strangers closer to God in one of Europe's most secular countries.
A group gathers around a table in the courtyard of the Church of Saint-Séverin, tucked away in Paris’s Latin Quarter just a stone’s throw from the Notre-Dame Cathedral. Cups of coffee, snacks and water are being handed out as Laure D’Haussy struggles to fold a paper fortune-teller.
“We’re using these as ice breakers,” she says. “If a person picks the corner with the olive branch, they have to shout, ‘Long live the pope, long live Jesus!’”
D’Haussy is a member of Anuncio, a French Catholic organisation focused on proselytising and promoting Christian culture. The group is mostly made up of young people aged 18 to 35, who aim to share the gospel “creatively” in public spaces. When news came of Pope Leo XIV making a historic visit to Paris, members of Anuncio decided to seize the opportunity and organise an ad gentes evangelist mission.
Read moreLeo XIV opens France visit with Paris 'popemobile' ride, warnings of AI threat to humanity
Beyond the walls of the church, balconies and sidewalks along the Boulevard Saint-Germain are littered with the Vatican’s yellow and white colours. Police vans and metal fences cordon off vast areas of the neighbourhood, ensuring there is full control of who comes and goes to see Leo XIV parade the streets of Paris on his first-ever visit to the capital as pope.
“I hope that this visit wakes France up,” D’Haussy says, adjusting her bright red Anuncio T-shirt. “The atmosphere in the country is awful. I want people to talk to each other more. I hope this visit brings people together.”
Read morePope Leo XIV to trace back French ancestry, spiritual roots on visit to France
A growing network of Catholic evangelists
Now about 30 strong, the congregation splits into two separate groups. The larger portion, seasoned members who have already gone on missions to spread the gospel, set up a circle of chairs at the rear end of the courtyard next to a beaming white statue of mother Mary and baby Jesus.
A handful of others gather to learn the ropes, with members Jean-Philibert and Thérèse giving out instructions from a handbook. “It’s important to open up about what led you to your faith,” explains Thérèse. “Don’t just walk up to someone and say, ‘Hello, have you heard about Jesus?’ They will just hit the ground running.” The group laughs.
“You can also ask them if there is something they would like to pray about,” Jean-Philibert adds. “Prayer can bring a vivid experience to the exchange.”
Unlike many protestant religions, Catholicism has long spread its faith quietly, through the schools, hospitals, charities and parishes it runs, rather than by approaching strangers. “Anuncio was created in that spirit,” D’Haussy says. “People wouldn’t really take to the streets to evangelise, so we decided to change that.” The Catholic organisation is now active in many major French cities including Lyon, Marseille and Toulouse, with members meeting up at least once a month to spread the gospel in the streets.
Anuncio's growth coincides with a revival of baptisms in France. A record 13,000 adults and 8,000 teenagers were baptised last Easter, according to numbers published by the Catholic Church. Between 2015 and 2022, the total number of people baptised stood at around 4,000 per year.
But in its bones France is still a secular nation, where the separation of church and state is enshrined in the 1905 “laicité” (secularism) law. And despite the baptism boom, the country has witnessed a steady decline in affiliation with the Catholic Church for decades.
Read moreFrom TikTok to church pews, France's Catholic influencers find a new flock
Spreading the gospel
Before filtering out into crowds eager to see Pope Leo XIV, the group enters the church to pray together. A band has set up in the chancel, with two young men plucking at guitar strings and a third accompanying them on his keyboard. D’Haussy leads the prayer, her words punctuated by music. “Prepare your hearts for the conversations we are about to have,” she says, as the band plays a pop song about Jesus vaguely resembling the melody of “Wonderwall” by Oasis. Hands raised to the sky and eyes closed, people sing along.
As the prayer comes to a close, people pair up and kneel to receive a blessing by the local priest. Then two by two, they head to the exit. D’Haussy ventures out with Alexandra, 37, who joined the group last year. “I’m quite shy,” she admits. “So at first I was quite hesitant to go out and evangelise like this, but it helps that the encounters are really authentic.”
The first person the pair speaks to is Brigitte, an 83-year-old woman who seems lost. D’Haussy and Alexandra introduce themselves and explain their mission for the day. “I just want to get out of my neighbourhood, but I’m stuck,” Brigitte says, before going on to tell them about how her children are impatiently waiting for her to send a photo of the pope. The pair take the opportunity to ask more questions about her family, and Brigitte smiles. “My family is my everything,” she says, before going on to tell them about how she ended up in her current apartment. “You’ve lived a rich life,” D’Haussy says. “What do you think happens after we die?” Brigitte pauses to think. “I don’t know, but I just hope my family will be there waiting,” she says. Before heading off, D’Haussy and Alexandra suggest Brigitte ask God to support her in her wishes.
Read moreWhy is France's Gen Z turning to Catholicism?
Past the police barrier and security pat-downs, the streets fill up with people from all walks of life, many waving Vatican flags. In search of younger potential converts, Alexandra and D’Haussy speak to Martin and Gabriel, both 20-year-old students who live in the neighbourhood. “We aren’t religious but we were baptised and we know that this is a huge event, so we wanted to experience it first hand,” Gabriel says. After explaining the religious symbolism of their respective names, D’Haussy asks if they plan on attending any other of the events on the pope’s agenda.
“We didn’t want to sign up for the Stade de France event to allow them to prioritise those who actually believe in God,” Martin says. “Oh, I disagree! Jesus would have wanted each and every young person present,” D’Haussy replies.
Around 80,000 young people gathered with Pope Leo XIV Friday evening at the Stade de France on the northern edge of Paris.
‘There he is!’
“It’s not every day you get to see one of the world’s most important figures,” say Harley and Tristan, both in their mid-twenties. While neither of them is religious, they say they always pay close attention to Pope Leo XIV’s messages. “For us he is just as important as a head of state. And we identify with many of his messages, particularly those around AI. It reassures us given the current state of affairs.”
In a speech at UNESCO's Paris headquarters on Friday, Pope Leo warned of a troubling paradox in the age of AI – while "intelligence" is now attributed to machines, human beings are increasingly judged by their efficiency and discarded once deemed unproductive.
As the crowd squeezes closer to the sides of the street where Pope Leo XIV will appear, Alexandra and D’Haussy run into fellow members of their group. The energy lifts and the women start singing along to the French Catholic song, “Comment ne pas te louer?” (“How can I not praise you?”) bursting out of speakers a few metres away.
“There he is, there he is!” Alexandra exclaims.
In a flash Pope Leo appears, waving gently to the swarm of onlookers. “He is so handsome,” says D’Haussy. Not a minute later, the young women start to make plans on how to get to the Stade de France.
“The pope exudes wisdom,” Alexandra says. “I hope that what he has to say will help me expand my faith. I hope that I will get to experience my conversion all over again.”
D’Haussy packs the paper fortune-tellers into her backpack and the group swiftly make their way to their next encounter with Pope Leo.
