Pope Leo XIV draws an estimated 700,000 to open-air Mass in Paris, where faith and curiosity mingle

PARIS — An estimated 700,000 people packed the Champs-Élysées and the Place de la Concorde on Saturday for Pope Leo XIV's open-air Mass, the high point of the pontiff's first official visit to France. The figure, provided by the Vatican, made the gathering one of the largest public religious events in the French capital in recent memory, and the mood among those who came ranged from deep prayer to sheer curiosity.

Before the service began, the 71-year-old leader of the world's 1.4 billion Catholics rode slowly down the avenue in an open-top "popemobile," waving at crowds pressed tightly against security barriers. Phones were held aloft as onlookers tried to catch a lasting glimpse of a fleeting but historic moment. Leo XIV stopped several times along the route, blessing babies passed forward by volunteers and reaching toward people with disabilities stationed in the front ranks.

The pope eventually took to the stage at Place de la Concorde, set beneath a giant white canopy. A choir and organ accompanied a song of prayer as the sun broke through the grey autumn skies. Leo XIV, dressed in white garments embellished with olive branches, urged Catholics to seek happiness in faith rather than in material things, a message that appeared pointedly at home in a capital better known for luxury retail than for religious devotion.

"It is truly good and pleasant when brothers and sisters come together and glorify the greatness of God," he said, his words interrupted only by the sound of helicopters overhead. "I hope that my presence here today confirms your faith." For much of the ceremony the crowd was visible less as a single mass of people than as thousands of small private acts: families lifting children onto their shoulders to watch the large screens dotted along the tree-lined avenue, and others sitting quietly on the pavement with heads bowed, listening to the pontiff's voice echo from massive speakers.

Behind that gathering was a sizeable volunteer operation, with helpers in fluorescent yellow T-shirts guiding people through a maze of closed roads and crowds. Angèle, a member of the French Scouts organisation since childhood, travelled from Rouen in Normandy on Friday to take part. Her role included handing out French and Vatican flags, as well as orienting lost onlookers in the maze of the crowd and the network of road closures.

For Angèle, the appeal of the visit was straightforward. "Seeing the Pope in France is a once-in-a-lifetime event," she said, adding that when an email arrived asking her to volunteer, "I said yes straight away." She admitted some disappointment at not having been selected for the Stade de France on Friday night, where Leo XIV held a vigil for young people, but she said she believed the Mass would "bring people together" and "do us good."

Frederic, 60, was wearing the same volunteers' yellow T-shirt. "I regularly help out at this sort of major Catholic event," he said. "It's a perfect opportunity to be of service and put the Church's values into practice." He contrasted Saturday's gathering with Pope Francis's last visit to France, when he was in Marseille: "I was in Marseille for the pope's last visit to France," he recalled. "It was completely different from today. Everyone was singing. It was less formal."

For others present, the day carried a more deliberate theological weight. Marie-Madeleine, 45, and Marie-Elisabeth, 44, are both nuns from Autun in France's Burgundy region, and they came with a specific aim. "The Mass is a way for us to say out loud and proudly that Christians are here," Marie-Elisabeth said. "We live in an individualistic society. France is a place where power and money reign supreme, there is not enough openness between people here. I really hope that Leo XIV's visit can bring meaning and positivity to those who are stuck in that mindset."

Marie-Madeleine echoed that hope, saying both women would like to thank the pope for his courage to "go against the grain" and to insist on the importance of "staying human" in a world they described as "disconnected." Marie-Elisabeth added that the burden of the office "must not be an easy load for the pope to carry" — a remark that underscored the difficulty of a papacy seeking visibility and relevance in a largely secular society.

Not everyone in the crowd came as a practising Catholic. Emmanuelle, 36, a US Protestant who has lived in Paris for six years, came with her daughters Olivia and Margaux, aged 8 and 9. Her reason for attending was familial. "My grandmother always told me that she'd had an incredible, life-changing experience when she attended John Paul II's Mass," she said. "So it was important for me to come and, above all, to bring my daughters along so that I could experience it for myself."

After the Mass, the trio planned to meet up with cousins who had travelled from Normandy for the occasion. For Emmanuelle, the gathering illustrated a conviction about faith's social reach rather than its doctrine: "Proof that religion brings us together!" she smiled. Her daughter Olivia, seated on the ground, beamed at the chance to be in the presence of "someone important we usually only see on screens."

Taken together, the scenes along the Champs-Élysées suggest a visit that drew not just the devout but a broad cross-section of French and foreign onlookers — scouts and nuns, families with young children, volunteers and casual visitors seeking a glimpse of a once-in-a-generation spectacle. Whether the pope's appeal to happiness through faith rather than material things resonated beyond the Church's own flock was less certain. But the sheer scale of the crowd, on a grey Saturday in late September, suggested at least that many millions of people, or at least several hundred thousand, were willing to stand in the open air and listen.