Will the new Leo be able to drive away the wolves?
By José Antonio Ureta | 14 May 2025
In just over two weeks, the Church, which seemed submerged in the throes of agony, has shown unexpected vitality, proving its divine origin and the ongoing assistance of the Holy Spirit.
The liberal media took pleasure in highlighting that, despite the populist and modernising pontificate of the late Pope Francis, the haemorrhaging of religious practice has not ceased to spread within the Catholic Church, nor has the closure of churches due to the continued decline in priestly ordinations, a corresponding decrease in income for maintaining its liturgical and charitable activities, and even worse, the internal struggles provoked by the “openness” of the Argentine pontiff. These analysts predicted that soon the great institution that shaped Western culture and civilisation, and influenced the entire world with its thought, would fade into insignificance …
Not so! The convergence of more than a hundred heads of state for Francis’s funeral and the presence in Rome of more than 1,500 journalists to cover the general congregation of the College of Cardinals, the conclave and the election of the new pope drew the attention of millions of Catholics and non-Catholics on all five continents. To their eyes, the millennial institution founded by Jesus Christ appeared with the splendour of its best days. And they were captivated.
The Bolivian writer José Andrés Rojo expressed it well in the pages of the leftist daily El País of Madrid:
“Any layperson who approaches this process is dazzled by the protocols that govern it. The meticulous handling of time, the careful arrangement of figures and spaces and colours, the vestments of the protagonists, the drip-fed information, the spectacle. … The leaders of the new order rushed to the Vatican to learn from the Catholic Church. It’s not that they are interested in its homilies or theological musings, nor in its commandments; what they want to understand is how its splendid ceremonials operate. And thereby learn how to secure the affections of the flock and stir its emotions to lead it toward that new golden age they so emphatically promise.”1
In fact, for twenty-four hours, the eyes of the entire world converged on the seagull proudly standing by the small chimney, put up by Vatican employees, from which the smoke — black or white — would signal the result of the mysterious votes in the most aristocratic election in today’s democratised world.
132 electors, mostly chosen by the deceased sovereign according to rather whimsical criteria, took part in the conclave, without having even the opportunity to know one another intimately in periodic consistories, as were held in the past. The additional difficulty of their coming from 77 countries with very different cultures and pastoral interests foreshadowed a long process to elect someone who would garner the consensus of no less than two-thirds of this heterogeneous electoral body: a heterogeneity worsened by the theological divergence between progressive prelates, eager for a continuation of the adventurous “paradigm shift” undertaken by Pope Francis, and those who saw his openness to the Zeitgeist as a betrayal of the Gospel message, to the point that not a few observers raised the hypothesis of a schism.
Once again, all expectations were disproven. In just four ballots, the 267th successor of Saint Peter was elected. The Cardinal-Archbishop of Algiers, an ultra-progressive prelate, declared that after an initial moment of “expression of difference” in the votes, “there was quickly immense unanimity.” To the point that, according to him, the vote “could have ended earlier”2 suggesting that by the third ballot, Cardinal Robert Vincent Prevost had almost reached the required qualified majority. A choice that contradicted the predictions of bookmakers and the secret desires of those who longed for a successor who would continue the Bergoglian adventure and further de-westernise the Catholic Church toward the peripheries of the Global South.
Inspired by prudence, which demanded a figure capable of uniting a Church deeply divided by Francis’s pastoral line and authoritarian style, so that she might again guide the faithful and illuminate consciences amid the current geopolitical chaos — and, we hope, also guided by the inspirations of the Holy Spirit — the College of Cardinals chose a person unknown to the general public but who embodied the traits Cardinal Timothy Dolan envisioned, speaking to NBC microphones before boarding his plane in New York:
“I would love to see someone with the vigour, the conviction and the fortitude of John Paul II. I would love to see someone with the intellectual wattage of Pope Benedict. I would love to see someone with the heart of Pope Francis … someone with the same style of Francis, that warmth, that heart, that smile, that goodness, that embrace, maybe with a little bit of a blend with John Paul and Benedict when it would come to more clarity in teaching, more refinement of the Church’s tradition, more digging in the treasures of the past to remind us of what Jesus expects of us now.”
The refinement of the Church’s traditions has been well served from Leo XIV’s very first appearance on the balcony, which left nothing to be desired for hearts enamoured with the splendours of papal pomp: mozzetta and embroidered stole, pectoral and processional cross in gold, no personalistic improvisation, but a written speech, delivered in a sober tone and with a marked religious note, focusing his mission on preaching the Risen Christ and placing his petrine ministry filially in the hands of Our Lady. A Marian devotion confirmed the next day by his unexpected visit to the shrine of Our Lady of Good Counsel in Genazzano, the inspiring fresco with Eastern features transported by angels from Albania to the outskirts of Rome, which is the focus of Marian devotion of the Order of Saint Augustine, to which the new pope belonged.
Leo XIV’s first sermon to the cardinals, in the Sistine Chapel, was also a reminder of what Jesus expects of us today. Commenting on the context of the Gospel episode of Saint Peter’s confession, his new successor emphasised that it occurred in a context similar to our own, that is, “a world that considers Jesus a person totally devoid of importance, at most a curious character” and that “will not hesitate to reject and eliminate him” when his presence becomes inconvenient, or else those who consider him a person who says just things like other great prophets and follow him “at least until they can do so without too many risks and inconveniences”, but who “see him only as a man, and therefore, in the moment of danger, during the Passion, even they abandon him and go away, disillusioned”. According to the new pope, these two behaviours are very current: “They embody, in fact, ideals that we can easily find — sometimes expressed in different language, but identical in substance — in the mouths of many men and women of our time.” This, even among the baptised, where there is no shortage of those who reduce Jesus “to a kind of charismatic leader or superman” and who end up “living, at that level, in a de facto atheism.”
This vision of the state of humanity is the antithesis of the blissful optimism that presided over the convocation, discussions, and pastoral options of the Second Vatican Council, based on the idea that humanity was moving toward the values of the Gospel, and therefore anathemas were no longer needed and a positive presentation of those values would suffice. The image of the militant Church was to be replaced by that of the pilgrim Church, walking hand in hand with the world toward an eschatological Kingdom whose location — in this world or the next — is uncertain.
There is none of that in the new pope’s vision. Faced with a humanity that despises, ignores, or devalues Christ, he calls us to “witness the joyful faith in Christ the Saviour” and to repeat with Saint Peter, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God!” A task that his successor acknowledges having received as a treasure, so that “with his help, [he] may be a faithful steward,” in such a way that the Church “may ever more be the city set on a hill, an ark of salvation navigating the currents of history, a lighthouse illuminating the world’s nights.” We are worlds away from the Abu Dhabi Declaration and the scandalous statements in Singapore that all religions are paths to God …
It is still early to know how far the new pope will carry this missionary programme, but one thing seems clear: his election represents a return to order. Let us hope that this is not only on the level of external appearances — since, as Victor Hugo wisely said, “form is the substance rising to the surface” — but also on the doctrinal and disciplinary levels, so that the immense confusion sown by the previous pontiff, with his rash statements and controversial documents such as Amoris Laetitiae and Fiducia Supplicans may be dispelled, and the persecution of clerics, intellectuals, and faithful who were sidelined and sanctioned for their fidelity to the moral teachings of the Church or its immemorial liturgical rite may come to an end.
Explaining his choice of the name Leo, the new pontiff said that one reason was in remembrance of Leo XIII, who laid the foundations for the Church’s social doctrine in response to the challenges of the Industrial Revolution, just as today it faces the challenges of the new digital revolution. Another explanation could be his affection for Leo XIII, who was born near Genazzano, was educated by the Augustinians, and was the one who included the invocation Mater Boni Consilii in the Litany of Loreto.
According to Le Figaro, the Serbian Cardinal Ladislav Nemet shared a joke circulating among the cardinals that offered another explanation for the choice of the name Leo (“lion” in Latin): “Until now, we had Francis, who spoke with the wolves. Now, we have a lion who will drive the wolves away.”3
Let us hope he does so, once and for all dispelling the “smoke of Satan” that entered the Church during the time of Paul VI, and bringing to an end the “mysterious process of self-demolition” that has led to its current crisis. May Leo XIV go beyond the intentions of the voting cardinals (who may have chosen him as a mere consensus figure) and truly restore peace to the Church.
Let us hope it will be the true peace of Saint Augustine — that is, “the tranquillity of order”, which presupposes the most radical possible elimination of the factors of doctrinal and disciplinary disorder rampant in every Catholic milieu, and particularly in Europe. With that hope, let us join our voices to those of the thousands of faithful who, at the foot of the loggia of St Peter’s Basilica, acclaimed Leo XIV with a resounding “Viva il Papa!”
Notes
- “Trump toma nota del antiguo régimen – Los rituales y ceremoniales de la Iglesia católica sirven para soldar los afectos y emociones de los fieles”, El País, 02.05.2025. ↩︎
- Élisabeth Pierson, “Le 267e successeur de Pierre suscite l’enthousiasme de ses pairs”, Le Figaro, 10.05.2025, p. 4. ↩︎
- Jean-Marie Guénois, “Son nom est son programme: pourquoi le pape a choisi de s’appeler Léon XIV”, Le Figaro, 10.05.2025, p. 4. ↩︎