When you get right down to it, papal conclaves share something in common with elections anywhere: They are inevitably referenda on the previous administration. And given the magnitude of John Paul II's pontificate, it's only natural that the cardinal-electors would now find themselves acutely sensitive to his legacy. Unsurprisingly, then, one rumor receiving attention in Rome holds that John Paul mentioned as his preferred successors Ivan Dias of Bombay, Angelo Scola of Venice, or Claudio Hummes of Sao Paulo. Whether or not it's true, the story is being taken quite seriously by some cardinals--and "not only," as theologian Richard John Neuhaus has quipped, "by the three supposedly mentioned." Of the three, Hummes is attracting the most attention as a serious candidate. For anyone who cares about the future of the Catholic Church, that's a heartening development.

Hummes (pronounced Oo-mes) was one of 15 children born to German immigrants in the south of Brazil. He entered the Order of Friars Minor and was ordained a priest shortly before his twenty-fourth birthday. Four years later he completed his doctorate at Rome's prestigious Antonianum University, after which he taught philosophy to seminarians in Italy and Brazil. Along the way he undertook post-doctoral studies in Switzerland, becoming one of the Church's leading authorities on ecumenicism.

Yet Hummes is known less for his intellectual achievements than for his pastoral service. Originally appointed bishop for the working-class diocese of Santo André, he brought to his ministry a passionate Franciscan commitment to serving the poor. Labor unions found their champion in him; Hummes even allowed activist organizer Lula da Silva to speak at his church. Such efforts earned Hummes the enmity of Brazil's military regime. Now, of course, Lula is president, and the military rulers, thanks in large measure to the efforts of Catholic clergy like Hummes, are gone.

One other factor weighs in his favor. Although the cardinal-electors must solemnly abjure any secular influence on their votes, they'll have a hard time forgetting that nearly 45 percent of all Catholics live between the Rio Grande and Tierra del Fuego. Brazil is the largest Catholic country on earth, and Hummes shepherds that nation's largest archdiocese. Besides, Latin America presents the Church with some of its most pressing challenges. Endemic poverty continues to afflict tens of millions of the faithful. Evangelical Protestantism is on the rise. And with an acute shortage of priests throughout the region, the Church is struggling to address these difficulties. Choosing a Latin American pontiff could help.

Hummes isn't the only serious contender among the 31 cardinals from Central and South America. Other frequently mentioned candidates include Dario Castrillon-Hoyos of Colombia and Oscar Rodriguez-Maradiaga of Honduras. Castrillon-Hoyos is the darling of the Church's far right-wing, but, as the chief Vatican official for clerical affairs, his defensive reaction to the child-abuse scandals left him compromised. And while Rodriguez-Maradiaga shares John Paul's panache, at age 62 he's relatively young, and few cardinals relish the prospect of another quarter-century pontificate. Hummes, however, is untainted by the child abuse scandals and, at 71, is just the right age not to die too soon or live too long.

Not that Hummes is an exactly uncontroversial figure. Free-trade advocates will no doubt balk at his repeated denunciations of globalization. Prosperous nations, he has argued, have a responsibility to devise "an alternate global economic program where all have the possibility to integrate themselves." He remains a champion of the Movimento dos Sem Terra (the Landless Movement) and adamantly insists that private property is merely "a secondary right." "The primary right," he asserts, "is the universal distribution of the goods."

How this would play out in the Vatican is anyone's guess. Between Laborem Exercens (1981) and Centesimus Annus (1991), John Paul became markedly more receptive to the possibilities of free-market capitalism, and Hummes's former comrade-in-arms Lula has likewise moved rightward on economic matters during his tenure in office. That said, Hummes, too, has begun to moderate his rhetoric on economics in recent years. Not long after his appointment was announced, Hummes implored readers of the conservative daily O Estado de Sao Paulo to understand that he intended "to be the bishop of everyone."

But even his undeniable dedication to social justice probably won't endear Hummes to anti-globalization progressives. He unabashedly champions Catholic doctrines on sexual morality and resolutely opposes abortion, contraception, and non-marital intercourse. He has stopped priests in his diocese from distributing condoms to prostitutes and AIDS patients.

Many will no doubt see Hummes (like John Paul II) as a conflicted or paradoxical figure. His searing concern for the poor would jolt high-church liturgical conservatives, and his doctrinal orthodoxy would compel social-justice progressives to remember that the Church claims as its patrimony certain fixed and eternal truths. But that, of course, is precisely the point. Christians are supposed to be challenged by the gospels. The pope's moral witness should make everyone a little uncomfortable. And that is exactly what Claudio Hummes would do.

Christopher Levenick is the W. H. Brady Doctoral Fellow at the American Enterprise Institute.