Pope Leo XIV and a New Age of ‘New Things’

On the second day of the 2025 papal conclave, after the fourth round of votes had been tallied, white smoke appeared from the chimney of the Sistine Chapel a little after 6 p.m. in Rome. Bells rang out over St. Peter’s Square and in the ears of tens of thousands of the faithful assembled there. Habemus papam!

Cardinal Dominique François Joseph Mamberti then emerged from within to announce that Cardinal Robert Francis Prevost, a native of Chicago, had been elected pope and chosen the name Leo XIV. The new pontiff addressed the crowd with the words of Christ himself, “Peace be with you!”—a warm and welcoming charge to a church anxious about its future since the passing of Pope Francis late last month. 

Papal transitions are momentous occasions in the life of the church, and occasions for monumental speculation among professional and amateur Vaticanistas. This penchant for speculation on the papabile and attempts to read the election of a new pope as tea leaves to predict the church’s future infects even otherwise sober-minded Catholics.

Near the conclusion of the 2005 papal conclave, I sat listening to a lecture by a distinguished American Catholic philosopher at a small Midwestern liberal arts college. The room was filled with professors of philosophy and theology, and eager students of both. At the precise midpoint of the lecture a student burst into the room and excitedly said, “We have a pope!”

The distinguished lecturer paused and then asked with equal eagerness, “Well, who is it?

“Cardinal Ratzinger!” The enthused student whooped as he turned to spread the news further.

A torrent of displeasure and a curse, major or minor I don’t precisely recall, erupted from the lectern.

The distinguished American Catholic philosopher then composed himself and calmly and patiently explained that Pope Benedict XVI was sure to erase the legacy of the Second Vatican Council and return the church to the Dark Ages. Precisely none of this came to pass. Some self-styled traditionalists and conservatives within the church, otherwise reasonable and sober-minded, had an equal and opposite reaction to the election of Pope Francis in 2013. Speculation is an equal opportunity maker of fools.

Partially this is because the church is an ancient and large institution naturally resistant to change. The office of the papacy and the institution of the church also enjoy the supernatural protection of their founder who said, “And I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not prevail against it.” (Matthew 16:18) It is also a product of our sinful inclination toward identifying not with God and neighbor but with party and clique. Rigid categories of “conservative,” “liberal,” “traditionalist,” and “progressive” rarely hold up in a diverse and global communion of well over a billion souls.

This does not mean that there is nothing to be learned from the election of Pope Leo XIV, our first American pope. His election caught many by surprise, but he was on the radar of careful observers of the life of the church, such as Michael Severance who, writing from Istituto Acton (the Acton Institute’s Rome office) at the opening of the conclave, noted:

The other long shot (perhaps not-so-long-shot) is Cardinal Robert Francis Prevost, the American Augustinian (read: super disciplined and serious). He is more than capable of cleaning up some messes Francis had encouraged inside and outside the Curia. More than anything else, he knows what makes for the right stuff of a good bishop, even the Bishop of Rome, as he is currently the Prefect of the Dicastery for Bishops. Let’s not forget that his impressive résumé includes his continuing to serve as the president of the Pontifical Commission for Latin America; his trilingual capacity in English, Spanish, and Italian; he was bishop of Chiclayo (Peru) for eight years (2015–23), and was even prior general of the Augustinians (2001–13); and is as affable as Cardinal Dolan, charming the socks off his sheep and clergy under his leadership.

Pope Leo XIV’s administrative experience, winning personality, and doctorate in canon law are assets he will need to steer an unwieldy and often stubborn Vatican bureaucracy.  His wide-ranging experience—in Peru and the United States—as a priest, missionary, prior general, and bishop has allowed him to see the church from all angles. He has had to deal directly with clerical abuse cases while in leadership, and face pushback from advocates for the abused. He has seen and worked within the church at all levels, in multiple national contexts, and faced some of its greatest challenges. If anyone can ever be truly prepared to exercise universal jurisdiction over a global church, it is Pope Leo XIV.

While the new pope’s résumé is impressive, his Augustinian formation guards against a mere reliance on personal charisma or management technique. In an interview with Catholic News Service in 2012, the then-prior general of the Order of St. Augustine remarked:  

One of the reasons that the Confessions continues to be one of the widest read books in the history of the world is precisely because of Augustine’s insight into human experience … how that experience can indeed be a window, if you will, an opening to discovering a personal experience of God in human life … discovering what is really holy about life.

Piety and technique need not be opposed but must be joined. In The City of God St. Augustine tells us:

Two cities have been formed by two loves: the early city by the love of self, even to the contempt of God; the heavenly by the love of God, even to the contempt of self. The former, in a word, glories in itself, the latter in the Lord.

The cities spoken of are not on earth and in heaven separated by firmament, but societies of people separated by desire. Christians are called to seek God not outside the world but in their experience of human life within the world, in vocations secular and religious—indeed, in all of life.

Perhaps it was this very Augustinian spirituality that informed then-Cardinal Robert Francis Prevost’s choice of the name Leo XIV. Pope Leo XIII was elected pope at the age of 67, a month before his 68^th birthday, in 1878. During his quarter-century reign he would author a staggering 88 encyclicals. Many wrestled fruitfully with what it meant for Catholics to live within the rapidly changing modern world. In Quod apostolici muneris (1878) he condemned socialism and in subsequent encyclicals defended the institutions of marriage (Arcanum divinae in 1880) and private property (“The first and most fundamental principle, therefore, if one would undertake to alleviate the condition of the masses, must be the inviolability of private property,” Rerum novarum in 1891) against the 19^th century socialists’ assaults against them.

Rerum novarum would go on to serve as the foundation for modern Catholic social teaching as it addressed the “New Things,” the rights and duties of capital and labor in a rapidly changing, urbanizing, and industrializing economy. A hundred years later Pope St. John Paul II would develop and extend this teaching further considering the lessons of the collapse of communism in Centesimus Annus:

Rerum novarum is opposed to State control of the means of production, which would reduce every citizen to being a “cog” in the State machine. It is no less forceful in criticizing a concept of the State which completely excludes the economic sector from the State’s range of interest and action. There is certainly a legitimate sphere of autonomy in economic life which the State should not enter. The State, however, has the task of determining the juridical framework within which economic affairs are to be conducted, and thus of safeguarding the prerequisites of a free economy, which presumes a certain equality between the parties, such that one party would not be so powerful as practically to reduce the other to subservience.

This endorsement of the free economy “within a strong juridical framework which places it at the service of human freedom in its totality” was first defended by Leo XIII and remains the foundation for all subsequent Catholic Social Teaching.

Pope Leo XIII would also lay the foundation for the revival of Thomistic philosophy and its integration into Catholic schools with his encyclical Aeterni Patris in 1879. The fortunes of Thomism have ebbed and flowed since St. Thomas’s canonization in 1323. He was made a doctor of the church in 1567 but, outside of his own Dominican Order, St. Thomas’s influence waned until the 19th century neo-Scholastic movement. Leo XIII realized that to live within the modern world requires thinking through modern problems with reason and faith, becoming the neo-Scholastic movement’s greatest champion. Again, Pope St. John Paul II would develop and extend this teaching in his 1998 encyclical Fides et Ratio.

Pope Leo XIV is the youngest pope we have had since Pope St. John Paul II. At 69, he is only a little older than his prolific predecessor Pope Leo XIII. We live once again in an age of “New Things”: gene editing, drone warfare, virtual worlds, and AI. The church will once again have to appeal to both faith and reason to address them.

As a proper Augustinian, Pope Leo XIV frames this challenge as having its fullest answer in the logos himself:

God loves us, all of us, evil will not prevail. We are all in the hands of God. Without fear, united, hand in hand with God and among ourselves, we will go forward. We are disciples of Christ, Christ goes before us, and the world needs his light. Humanity needs him like a bridge to reach God and his love. You help us to build bridges with dialogue and encounter so we can all be one people always in peace.

One of the most-discussed elements of the late Pope Francis’ papacy was the approach he brought as a Jesuit. Pope Leo XIV, on the other hand, has now become the first pope to come from the Order of St. Augustine. For perspective on that and other issues, I posed a few questions to Father William McCormick, himself a Jesuit, but also a political scientist and a writer with the Jesuit journal  La Civiltà Cattolica in Rome. My questions to him are in bold.

Much was made of Pope Francis being the first Jesuit. Pope Leo XIV now has become the first pope to be a member of the Order of St. Augustine. How do you anticipate his being an Augustinian will affect his papacy?

When members of religious orders become bishops, they have to decide how to integrate those vocations. That applies a fortiori to a religious who becomes bishop of Rome! Pope Leo cited St. Augustine in his opening message on the loggia of St Peter’s, and surely the pope will continue to share Augustine’s riches with the wider church. This would put him in profound continuity with another papal son of Augustine, Benedict XVI. The monastic rules associated with St. Augustine offer a profound vision of Christian community that will no doubt influence how Pope Leo XIV shepherds the church, one in which the most mundane tasks are grounded in love and eschatologically ordered toward the contemplation of God. 

The Augustinian tradition is unique, yes, and yet it also speaks to the whole church. Ultimately, popes from religious orders are beautiful signs for all believers that, however much we may differ, the faith is one.

What is one way in which you hope Pope Leo XIV will emulate Pope Francis?

That’s easy: love for the poor. As Tom Holland has taught many people in his book Dominion, Christians have been set apart from the beginning by their scandalous care for the abandoned, rejected, and desperate: the people who are “useless” to society, and a thorn in the side for those who would rather enjoy their own blithe comfort. We Christians cannot overlook our own temptations to ignore the poor, and so are very grateful for a pope who will not let us forget them. Given the pope’s ministry among the poor in Peru, no doubt he will serve us well in this regard.

And one way in which you hope he will be different?

Many have recently underlined that the pope is the successor of St. Peter, not an ersatz replacement for Pope Francis. After all, Pope Francis was not offering himself as the ultimate exemplar, but Christ. In that spirit, Holy Father Leo will surely emulate the late Pope Francis in many admirable ways. He will also no doubt be his own person: aware of the gifts that he brings in service to the church, but also no less gratefully mindful of the crosses that remind him to rely upon Christ’s strength.

In an address to the College of Cardinals this weekend, Pope Leo XIV detailed why he took that name, seeking to model Leo XIII’s example during a time of rapid worldwide change. Which other Leos would you hope Leo XIV would draw inspiration from?

One of the most consequential popes was the ninth century Saint Leo IV, who built the famous “Leonine Walls” around the Vatican City. A wall is a deeply ambivalent symbol: It can keep others out, but it also supports a roof and encloses a hearth. As Pope Leo XIV continues the dialogue between the church and the modern world begun by Leo XIII, much is at stake in how he understands the nature of that dialogue. How does one preach truth in a world that sees it as a mask for power?

The gospel makes radical demands. And Christians in their sinfulness can detract from the message of the gospel. But ultimately the gifts that the church has to offer the world are from Christ for the benefit of all, not mere human contrivances for the church’s self-aggrandizement. To preach in that spirit calls for both faith-filled humility and courage.

What is one issue you hope Pope Leo will prioritize quickly as his papacy begins?

If one thinks of the papacy in terms of an agenda or mandate, then the to-do list is endless. If one thinks of it first as a ministry of unity, however, then the pope’s central task is to center Christians on Christ. In view of that concern, the pope’s homily from the first Mass in the Sistine Chapel with the College of Cardinals was beautifully centered on Christ. Taking the measure of the world’s tendency to reject Christ as absurd and some believers’ lapsing into “practical theism” because they just see Christ as a good person, he named those tendencies as continuing challenges in our day as we “bear witness to our joyful faith in Jesus the Savior.” As a former missionary bishop, I have no doubt he will express his Christ-centered love in action, not just words, as he teaches, presides over the sacraments, and governs the church.

How will being an American influence Pope Leo? Is too much being made of that?

Pope Leo is from the New World, bringing with him an awareness of the ever-newness of the faith, that it is a gift. This makes him an incredible missionary and bishop.

He is not only an American, however, but an American who has spent much of his life outside of the U.S. He thus has a lively sense of what it means to be displaced and outside of one’s comfort zone. And yet just insofar as he has done this traveling not as a tourist or sightseer, but as a disciple, he has sought to find Christ wherever the Holy Spirit has taken him. I think that sense of pilgrimage contributes to his Augustinian sense that the world as we know it is passing, that we are made for a heavenly one to which we are in some mysterious sense moving. This is not a typical way of thinking about Americans spiritually, but it is a powerful one that will be a great gift to the Church through His Holiness’ papacy.

What would you say to Catholics who may be disappointed that the new pope did not come from a less developed part of the world?

I do not want to dismiss such concerns, because it is a beautiful day when one can identify personally with a pope from one’s own country, as I can now personally attest. 

The church is in a paradoxical situation. On the one hand, the precedent of non-Italian popes is now firmly set, and the church’s center of gravity continues to shift toward the global South. So we can expect popes to come from a broader range of places. 

At the same time, Pope Leo comes from the one country from which everyone was sure a pontiff would never hail. For that matter, he is a dual Peruvian-U.S. citizen, and a “citizen of the world” according to one U.S. cardinal. The story for now, at least, is that the geographic provenance of the pope matters less than it has in a long, long time. 

The sex abuse scandal that came to light three papacies ago continues to be a long-term issue for the Catholic Church. Does a new papacy bring greater opportunities for such issues, or does a new papacy bring greater challenges?

Undoubtedly each new papacy is a further opportunity to reaffirm that safeguarding against sexual abuse is something firmly at the center of the papacy and the church. Such care is neither optional nor limited to a specific region or group, nor is action to prevent further abuse. It is rather one of the most concrete acts of charity the pope and all of the church can undertake today, and fundamental to how Christians live out the gospel in deeds and words. We can expect Pope Leo to bring his many gifts to bear upon the ministry. 

My colleague Valerie Pavilonis has been contemplating the role of religion in the larger art world and on our site has a profile of Erin K. McAtee, Claire Kretzschmar, and their project, Arthouse 2B.

Much of the work presented by Arthouse 2B is raw, even wounding. When I visited McAtee’s studio in Lower Manhattan last August, the first word that came to me was “embryonic”—McAtee’s work, consisting partially of dyed fabrics stretched across walls, is supremely layered, invoking a depth of little shapes seemingly hidden behind layers of flesh. The same goes for the collection of ‘zines published at irregular intervals by the collective. One, a square, white pamphlet, consists of an essay by a nun, interspersed with watercolor images that appear to zoom in and out of the human body: a cross-section of musculature; a close-up of an entirely pink breast; a purple beanlike structure that may or may not be a zygote.

The artwork does not masquerade as a doctoral thesis; at the very least, there are no long plaques attached to these works trying to convince me of their depth. It is also not overly moralistic; no one is making stylized, Instagrammable decalogues, and you probably wouldn’t put any of it on a poster at a pro-life rally. Instead, the work possesses a spiritual depth, such that you might even be able to sit in front of a work for hours and still not be done with it. 

It helps to be aware of Arthouse’s focus on Catholicism: You know to expect some sort of spiritual aspect. But besides that, there is no noise between you and the art. And that’s when art can start to wound you. 

Do we need art that is wounding? For some, it might be easier to be wounded by Arthouse 2B’s theater work. Consider its October play, a punk rock-themed show about a girl who, determined to devote her life to God only, forcibly eliminates herself from the marriage market by gouging out her eyes. The result is bloody; casual viewers were likely nauseated, and knowledgeable viewers were likely both nauseated and aware that the girl in question was St. Lucy, a third-century martyr.

• For Christianity Today, Mindy Belz profiles Dr. Denis Mukwege, a Nobel Prize-winning doctor who for decades has treated victims of atrocities in the Democratic Republic of Congo. Years of war and now the battle for natural resources powering today’s technology have put Mukwege in the position of seeing the worst humanity can do to each other. A warning: Belz’s report includes graphic depictions of sexual assault and violence. “And he became an expert at identifying the geographical regions where women were attacked just by looking at their wounds. Militias in one area held women to flames, in another area shot them, and in others used bayonets in what appeared to be ritualistic rapes. Mukwege recalled the horror of those earlier years in his 2018 Nobel lecture. He described an 18-month-old child coming to Panzi Hospital by ambulance after being raped. Mukwege found the nurses sobbing when he arrived. He told the dignitaries assembled in Oslo, “‘We prayed in silence, My God, tell us what we are seeing isn’t true.’” Belz writes later: “Last year, Mukwege traveled to Silicon Valley to meet with leaders of US tech companies. He says he asked them, ‘Why do you prefer to get minerals you need from armed groups who are raping and killing people?’ Mukwege’s not interested in boycotting technology. He says it’s about cleaning up supply lines and clearing out foreign-backed militias. He wants those down the supply chain to comprehend the connection between consumerism and what his patients endure. ‘We can build bridges, find opportunities for peace, and get minerals and mining clean. Now, it is a dirty business,’ he says. ‘We have to find new leverage to push our politicians.’ Mukwege pounds the desk as he talks, frustrated that he sees the problem up close every day and it never becomes less than a horror, while for the rest of the world it’s normalized. In 2018, he shared the Nobel Peace Prize with Nadia Murad, the Yazidi activist who survived sex slavery at the hands of ISIS captors in Iraq. The award signified new recognition of the problem of sexual violence, he thought.  Instead, ‘nothing changed, and you have the impression that on the international level, no one cares.’ Seven years later, he wonders if the world order has simply grown comfortable with elevating money over humanity. But Mukwege says Christians have a responsibility to care because ‘this is a thing that destroys families, that destroys churches.’”