The words and actions of Pope Francis resonate with much of Mennonite faith and practice.

OK, I’ll admit it. I count myself among the Christians around the world who find themselves smitten by the new pope. Perhaps it helps that I am married to a Latin American, that I teach at a Catholic college and that I spent most of my 20s in Central America. I can appreciate the joy felt by the Spanish-speaking world, elated to finally count one of their own as the holder of this most sacred office. But I think my appreciation goes deeper than this.

In his speech and with his actions, Pope Francis has already begun to change the character of the papal office in ways that reflect a gospel that is more familiar and dearer to me as a Mennonite Christian. While reading yet another article (in the secular press) describing the simplicity and pastoral humility expressed by Pope Francis, I couldn’t help but think for a moment—Habemus papam Mennonitum—we have a Mennonite pope.

Rest assured. As far as I know, there are no plans afoot for the election of a Mennonite pope or for the official acceptance of any supreme earthly spiritual authority—in Rome, Kansas or Winnipeg —and that is as it should be. Anabaptist theology is fundamentally suspicious of institutional power, especially when it involves a visible hierarchy. We believe in an “upside-down kingdom” that promotes a model of power that is bottom up rather than top-down. And we typically address our leaders—from pastors to “overseers,” to teachers and professors—by their first name only. “Call no one father,” said Jesus, and Mennonites have tried as hard as anyone to obey.

Just as palpable as our distrust of hierarchy is our contempt for pageantry, especially in worship. Simplicity is our hallmark. Mennonite houses of worship are austere, plain and sometimes downright homely. So the elaborate ornamentation of the Vatican with all its rituals and ceremony strike most of us as strange at best and perhaps even antithetical to the itinerant Jesus of the Gospels. Even the Anabaptist groups that have bishops give them no special clothing or accessories—no ring, no title, no special hat, staff or stole. So how could a Mennonite be smitten by a pope?

It is the direction of movement, the changes in protocol and the shifts in message that have captured the attention of millions of Catholics and even some non-Catholics like me. It is too early to judge for certain the long-term impact Francis will have on his office or on the 1.2 billion-member church he leads. But several signs give plenty of room for optimism, even excitement. Although it will take time to do so, Pope Francis has pledged to move power outward, giving regional bishops more freedom to name the most appropriate candidates for offices in their own districts. This policy promises to allow them to build local institutions that are more responsive to the local context.

Just as significant, from an Anabaptist perspective, is his demonstration of a commitment to a modest lifestyle that displays servant leadership. Refusing to live in the 10-room papal apartments of the Vatican Palace, Pope Francis resides instead in a sparsely decorated two-room apartment originally built for visitors. True to his chosen name, Francis also exhibits a visible preference for simplicity over pageantry. He refuses to wear the brightly colored mozzetta shoulder cape that signifies spiritual authority. And his ring, typically the object of great attention and global awe, is a simple silver ring.

In one of several emails that have gone viral, side-by-side photographs show Pope Francis and his predecessor each conducting a formal appearance on the same site just months apart. The differences are easily visible. Pope Francis sits on a simple wooden chair instead of a huge, elaborately carved, gold-plated throne.

Francis wears an all-white cassock and white chasuble instead of the bright red chasuble and red stole with gold embroidery preferred by Benedict.

On his feet are simple black shoes rather than the famous bright red slippers of his predecessor. (Benedict chose his clothing for its traditional symbolism—red represented Christ’s blood—but New York and Paris interpreted his decisions differently.)

Finally, Francis wears in the photograph the same metal cross he wore as a bishop in Buenos Aires, and there is no red carpet beneath his feet. In short, Pope Francis has made a conscious effort to change both his everyday lifestyle and his adornment in ways that communicate in a more straightforward manner the values of the Christian gospel. Simplicity, austerity, humility—these are values easily recognizable to Mennonites.

But it is the pontiff’s scathing critique of global economic inequality that most caught the attention of this Mennonite Christian. In Evangelii Gaudium, his first formal papal statement of length, Pope Francis chastised global leaders for allowing the continuing growth of a staggering wealth gap between the rich and the poor. He warned against trusting in “trickle-down theories” of economics as capable of lifting the burden of poverty from millions who continue to suffer.

As a native of Argentina, Pope Francis knows firsthand the stinging reality of living in a society in which extreme poverty and great wealth exist side by side. Reminding his readers of the importance of observing the sixth commandment, he drew attention to the way a society so divided can take the lives of its weakest members. “Today we also have to say ‘thou shalt not’ to an economy of exclusion and inequality. Such an economy kills.”

As a sociologist who studies the youth gangs of northern Central America—some of the most unequal and also the bloodiest societies on earth—I can easily appreciate the connection between economic inequality and violence. I have seen with my own eyes and heard in the powerful testimonies of the ex-gang members I have interviewed, the ways in which the shame and pain of growing up poor and without hope in a society filled with shopping malls and billboards can give rise to a desperate attempt to grasp money by any means, including violence. Therefore, the pope’s deliberate attempt to call the nations of the world to actively address a growing income gap both within and between nations is both hopeful and inspiring to me.

Finally, in addition to his vision for a more horizontal exercise of authority, his penchant for simplicity and his emphatic denouncing of economic inequality, Pope Francis has made peace an urgent theme in his formal declarations. On New Year’s Day he delivered a message from his window in which he reminded the faithful that they have, “a responsibility … to work so that the world becomes a community of brothers who respect each other, accept each other in one’s diversity and take care of one another.’ At one point, he even set aside his notes, going off script to say, “What is happening in the heart of humanity? It is time to stop.” He closed with a prayer asking that “the courage of dialogue and reconciliation prevail over the temptation for vendetta, arrogance and corruption.”

Francis is not the first pope to denounce injustice or promote world peace. Yet something about the way he delivers his message—his humble routine, his austere dress and his pastoral manner—allows him to capture the attention and respect of many who have disregarded the Vatican and even written off Christianity itself.

In one of the most arresting photographs I have ever seen, a press photographer captured a spontaneous moment when Pope Francis, while conducting a routine blessing of pilgrims at St. Peters on Nov. 6, 2013, stopped to spend several minutes embracing and praying over a man with a rare genetic illness that results in the outbreak of tumors over the entire body. In an act that brings to mind Jesus’ healing of the leper, the pope blessed the man, kissing him and placing his hands directly on the man’s severely deformed face and head. Images like these provide the world—including the faithful and even Mennonites—with a visual demonstration of the compassion about which Pope Francis speaks so consistently. Like his washing of the feet of prisoners on Maundy Thursday, they speak a language that we can feel as well as comprehend.

As Mennonites, we have never relied on a pope to instruct us to live as Christ did. Yet I believe Rome’s new bishop has much to teach us if we listen. Neither a radical ideologue nor a stern traditionalist, Pope Francis has instead taken an incarnational approach to leading his church, embodying the values he teaches and thus commencing a papacy that is as close to a “Mennonite papacy” as anyone could imagine. Although we do not truly have a Mennonite pope, if we ever did, we could only hope that he might be as humble, wise and grace-filled as Francis. May God grant him peace.