One week after the release of Magnifica Humanitas and three weeks into his catechesis on Sacrosanctum Concilium (Vatican II’s constitution on the liturgy), the vision and mission of Pope Leo XIV are becoming clearer.

As I mentioned in an earlier article, Pope Leo seems to have taken seriously the old advice given to new pastors — not to make any major changes in his first year. Thus far, Leo has played his cards close to the vest on many hotly debated topics. Apart from necessary episcopal and curial appointments and forceful responses to major world events such as mass deportations and war, Leo has largely avoided direct public interventions in the Church’s most contested internal debates. For example, in response to the Society of St. Pius X’s announcement that it would illicitly consecrate new bishops without papal mandate, he has delegated the affair to the Dicastery for the Doctrine of the Faith (DDF) and has not yet commented publicly on the impending declarations of schism and excommunications.

This has left Vatican watchers and papal pundits to read tea leaves in order to discern clues about how Leo will govern and what kind of pope he’ll turn out to be. One veteran Vatican reporter I know would refer to Leo as “Pope Boring” (although he’s changed that assessment dramatically in recent months).

With his first encyclical and his ongoing catecheses on Vatican II, we are finally beginning to discover Leo’s distinct voice. In Magnifica Humanitas, a profound meditation on human dignity and the social gospel at the dawn of a new age in human civilization, our new pope has laid out a vision that is part prophetic, part practical, and entirely Catholic — very much in continuity with the great social encyclicals of the past but with a deep understanding of the challenges we face today and the dangers held by the future.

Magnifica Humanitas clearly situates itself in continuity with the grand tradition of Catholic social teaching (CST), while providing Pope Leo’s unique contribution to the corpus of teaching that began with Pope Leo XIII in 1891. The first two chapters provide a systematic overview of this tradition. Chapter 1 gives the history of CST and the key contributions of the popes from the late 19th century to the present. Chapter 2 outlines the foundations and key principles of CST: the common good, the universal destination of goods, subsidiarity, solidarity, social justice.

The second chapter also delves into the concept of integral human development, which Leo defines as “a process in which the growth of individuals and peoples encompasses all dimensions of existence and opens the future to subsequent generations as well” (MH 82). Leo sees integral human development as the framework for evaluating changes in our society — including advancements in technology. In a period of rapid technological change, we can assess whether new innovations promote integral development for all people or if they create inequality and exclusion in society (cf. MH 85).

In the encyclical, Leo seeks to address this question in the present day by applying the principles of CST to a multitude of questions arising in the digital age and reminding us of the infinite dignity of the human person. Human dignity (as the title of the encyclical suggests) lies at the heart of the pope’s message. He warns against “building a future that excludes God and reduces the other to a means” (MH 10) and decries dehumanizing persons by reducing them “to a means of achieving results, a resource to be used and exploited, and are no longer recognized as a proper end in themselves who should never be instrumentalized” (MH 51).

Development in Continuity

Critics of Pope Francis and doctrinal prefect Cardinal Victor Manuel Fernández might be dismayed at Leo’s seamless adoption and integration of core tenets of the Magisterium of Pope Francis, including the declaration Dignitas Infinita, a document prepared by Fernández’s dicastery, signed by Francis, and released in April 2024. This document received backlash in some conservative and traditionalist circles for (among other things) reaffirming the Church’s teaching that the death penalty “violates the inalienable dignity of every person, regardless of the circumstances” (DI 34).

Leo devotes two paragraphs (52-53) of Magnifica Humanitas to affirming the principles taught by Dignitas Infinita, which develops the Church’s teaching on the ontological dignity of the person. Leo defines ontological dignity as “the dignity that belongs to every human being simply by virtue of existing, of having been willed, created and loved by God. No sin, failure, humiliation or exclusion can diminish the profound value of a human life that God has willed and called into being” (MH 52).

Leo also repeats one of Francis’s oft-repeated phrases, “Time is greater than space.” He adds, “What matters most is not occupying positions of power or defending cultural strongholds, but initiating good processes and enabling them to mature” (MH 25). Here too, Leo makes his predecessor’s message his own and builds upon it. Pope Francis, from the beginning of his papacy through the multiyear synodal process that continues today, repeatedly stressed the importance of starting reform processes that would yield lasting reforms, rather than seeking quick fixes and instant results.

In Magnifica Humanitas, Pope Leo not only comments on developments in society as a whole, but takes time to reflect on the Church and to identify where we have fallen short — both historically and today. He concludes Chapter 2 with an examen (examination of conscience) for the Church. This is a striking structural shift in papal magisterium. Popes have apologized before for the sins of the Church’s members — John Paul II’s “Day of Pardon” during the Jubilee in the year 2000 is the most memorable example — but those were acts of repentance for a guilty past. Leo is asking for something more demanding. He turns the principles of CST towards the Church and asks us to take stock of how we are applying them within our own structures and institutions (cf. MH 86-89).

This is a call for accountability and an honest admission that the Church has not always lived up to its principles. He writes, “Living out justice in the Church means purifying ecclesial relationships and structures from distortions that give rise to inequality, lack of transparency and abuse of power” (MH 89).

On the question of slavery, Leo comments on Church history with remarkable candor. He refuses to “deny or diminish the delay with which both society and the Church came to denounce the scourge of slavery” (MH 176). He recalls that the Church tolerated the institution of slavery for centuries, and laments that even ecclesiastical institutions enslaved people. He notes that past popes at times intervened to regulate and even legitimize forms of subjugation, including the enslavement of “infidels.” It wasn’t until the 19th century, under Pope Leo XIII, that the Church made a “formal, absolute and universal condemnation” of slavery. Rather than explain this away or make excuses, Pope Leo presents the unequivocal condemnation of slavery as a genuine development in doctrine, which he describes as “a clear example of the Church’s growth in understanding the perennial truths of Revelation that she safeguards” (MH 176).

Leo’s language — referring to the Church’s “deeper awareness” of the dignity of the human person — presents the condemnation of slavery not merely as a re-articulation of traditional teaching, but as the fruit of genuine growth in the Church’s understanding of morality. Traditionalists often present the development of doctrine as primarily clarifying existing conclusions. By framing the Church’s absolute condemnation of slavery as a development in doctrine, Leo puts forward an understanding of development that reflects that of St. John Henry Newman and the documents of the Second Vatican Council — that deeper reflection on divine revelation and a growing awareness of human dignity over time can lead the Church to more adequately align its moral judgments with the truth of the Gospel. This understanding of doctrinal development is also visible in Vatican II’s teaching on religious liberty and in recent magisterial developments concerning the death penalty. By situating the condemnation of slavery as a development in doctrine, Pope Leo provides a clear and authoritative example of how teaching develops in the life of the Church.

Leo describes the Church’s complicity with slavery as “a wound in Christian memory, one from which we cannot consider ourselves detached” (MH 176). By issuing a formal apology for this historical injustice, Leo builds on the actions of his recent predecessors, but presents it in his own clear, unambiguous style. For example, John Paul II made many apologies, most notably in his homily and in the Solemn Intercessions on the first Sunday of Lent in 2000. During this Mass, he and seven cardinals begged forgiveness for sins against Christian unity, the Jewish people, the dignity of women, and the poor. More recently, in 2022, Pope Francis traveled to Canada on what he called a “penitential pilgrimage,” telling the First Nations, Métis, and Inuit peoples gathered at Maskwacis, “I humbly beg forgiveness for the evil committed by so many Christians against the indigenous peoples.” The following year, the Dicasteries for Culture and Education and for Promoting Integral Human Development issued a joint statement repudiating the so-called “doctrine of discovery” and naming Dum Diversas (1452) and Romanus Pontifex (1455) — two of the same bulls Leo footnotes in Magnifica Humanitas — acknowledging that they “did not adequately reflect the equal dignity and rights of indigenous peoples.”

In Magnifica Humanitas, Pope Leo goes a step further. During their papacies, John Paul and Francis offered apologies through gestures and curial statements, and asked in a general way for forgiveness for “sins of which Christians too have been guilty” or “for the evil committed by so many Christians.” Leo, however, includes the apology for slavery in an encyclical, giving it a high level of papal authority, and he asked for forgiveness “in the name of the Church.” (MH 176).

A similar pattern appears in Leo’s treatment of war, where Leo hammers a point that Francis had already voiced. In Fratelli Tutti, Francis wrote that it had become “very difficult nowadays to invoke the rational criteria elaborated in earlier centuries to speak of the possibility of a ‘just war’” (FT 258). But Leo states it bluntly. While reaffirming “the right to self-defense in the strictest sense,” he declares that the “‘just war’ theory, which has all too often been used to justify any kind of war, is now outdated” (MH 192). This is because humanity now possesses “far more effective and capable tools for promoting human life and resolving conflicts, such as dialogue, diplomacy and forgiveness.” Once again, Leo receives his predecessor’s teaching, makes it his own, and carries it a step further.

Critics might object and ask, “Is he suggesting that Church hasn’t always taught dialogue, diplomacy and forgiveness?” Of course, and that is why the teaching is a development in continuity with tradition, not a rupture or a reversal. The seed of this teaching was present all along, but centuries of reflection, experience, and discernment have allowed it to mature more fully.

We must acknowledge that in the past, the Church defended waging war — both in principle and in fact. But as with human dignity, centuries of discernment and reflection have deepened our awareness that war is evil and measures must be taken to avoid it in every case. It was the unfathomable bloodshed and devastation of the wars of the 20^th century that compelled St. Paul VI in 1965 to beg the assembly of the United Nations to pledge, “Never again war, never again war! It is peace, peace, that has to guide the destiny of the nations of all mankind!”

What emerges across Leo’s encyclical is a pope who is unmistakably his own man, yet entirely at home in the tradition he has inherited. Further, there is no question that Leo seamlessly incorporates Pope Francis’s Magisterium as an integral contribution to Catholic social teaching. Perhaps to the dismay of Francis’s critics, Leo does not at all present himself as a “corrective” to Francis. He has received his predecessor’s teaching — including the contributions of Cardinal Fernández’s dicastery during Francis’s pontificate — and weaves it into the larger fabric of CST, from Leo XIII through Vatican II to the present. And where he develops that teaching, as on slavery and war, he does so clearly and unambiguously.

Leo exhibits the same approach in his interpretation and implementation of the Second Vatican Council. On issues that have generated much controversy and debate, with a large contingent of Catholics resisting the teachings of the Council and postconciliar reforms, he simply looks forward. For Leo, Vatican II must be carried out and lived fully.

The Shape of a Pontificate

This instinct is visible in Leo’s recent Wednesday General Audience addresses. For the past three weeks, Leo has been focusing his catechesis on Sacrosanctum Concilium, the Second Vatican Council’s constitution on the sacred liturgy. What is striking, at least so far, is what the pope doesn’t say. Rather than trudging through the liturgy wars that often overwhelm Catholic social media debates, Leo is reflecting on the liturgy as the Church actually prays it today. He does not relitigate the liturgical reform, or wax nostalgic on the glories of the Tridentine rite.

Pope Leo is teaching the Council’s vision for the liturgy and applying it to the current Roman Missal. Moving beyond intra-Church controversies, he is calling us to a deeper reflection on the public prayer of the Church, such as when he said this morning, “We need to allow ourselves to be educated by the rites of the liturgy, caring for the beauty of our celebrations with a delicate touch and without arbitrariness, and committing ourselves to an authentic mystagogy. The experience of a living and devout liturgy, accompanied by appropriate mystagogical catechesis, is the best resource for reawakening in everyone that openness to the encounter with God.”

Leo XIV is beginning to emerge as a reformer pope — not unlike his predecessor, and Francis certainly deserves credit for putting the reform process into motion — but his style doesn’t stoke the same reactionary anger that that was directed unceasingly at his predecessor. That’s a good thing. Pope Leo is interested in the human person, in the common good, in the liturgy that forms us and the world that needs us. He has taken up the inheritance of Francis and all the successors of Peter before him with a quiet and prayerful grace. The more we learn about Pope Leo, the clearer his papacy becomes. He has received the inheritance of the popes who preceded him, and he is continuing to develop it in his own distinct voice.

(Also, I should probably mention that the encyclical says some interesting things about AI.)

Image: Vatican Media screenshot

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Mike Lewis

Mike Lewis is the founding managing editor of Where Peter Is. In addition to his work for the site, his writing has appeared in America Magazine, National Catholic Reporter, US Catholic, The Irish Catholic, Catholic Outlook, The Synodal Times, and other Catholic publications. He has been quoted in The Washington Post, Vanity Fair, The New York Post, and other mainstream outlets on Catholic affairs. He previously co-hosted the Field Hospital podcast with Jeannie Gaffigan and The Debrief podcast. Before founding Where Peter Is, he worked in communications at the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops and Catholic Climate Covenant. He is married with four children.