Leo XIV, the return of the theme of truth

Peace, justice, and truth. In these three words, Leo XIV indicated the guidelines for diplomatic activity at the meeting of ambassadors accredited to the Holy See on Friday of last week. They will also be the guidelines of this pontificate’s doctrine of diplomacy.

It is too early to pass judgment on Leo XIV, his works, and the direction he wants to give to the Church.

It is not too early to observe a substantial change of direction, however, which has occurred since the Pope appeared from the blessing loggia in a white cassock and red mozetta, like all the Popes before him, except Pope Francis.

It was a rather obvious sign of discontinuity, which was followed by other signs of discontinuity. From the use of pectoral crosses—the simple silver one for private events and the more precious one, with the relics of the Augustinian saints, for public events—to that of the ferula that belonged to Benedict XVI in the first mass with the cardinals in the Sistine Chapel, everything in Leo XIV indicates that he is trying to reconnect the Church to its history.

Never before did the pontificate of Francis appear so much like an interrupted story, a parenthesis (for some beautiful, for others less so) in the history of the Church that perhaps did not break with doctrine, but broke with the Vatican’s way of being. That of Pope Francis was not a revolution. Instead, it was the irruption of a new point of view, loved by some, poorly tolerated by others, in any case disruptive within the Catholic Church.

Leo XIV is called to bring harmony, and he has done so far by going in two directions. On the one hand, he has tried to keep all that was good in his predecessor’s pontificate. He has relaunched synodality, quoted Francis on the theme of the Third World War in pieces and on the change of era, and has not failed to make his appeals for peace in the world, resuming the main attention to Ukraine and the Holy Land.

At the same time, however, he has shown his direction. There have been no extemporaneous appeals or personalism. Leo XIV prepares his speeches, studies the dossiers, asks for advice, and (so far) listens to them. A clear example was the appeal for a just and lasting peace in Ukraine at the Regina Coeli last May 11.

Leo also went on an unexpected jaunt to the Sanctuary of the Madonna del Buon Consiglio in Genazzano. Then, he also went to lunch at the Curia of the Augustinians, as he used to do even as a Cardinal. However, he did not do it in an impromptu manner; he did it in a representative car and without too much hysteria or desire to be seen.

Everyone notices that Leo XIV does not want to take selfies—only one came out when he returned for the first time to his home at the Palazzo del Sant’Uffizio after the election—and that he is rather keen to maintain the proper institutional distance. He makes jokes and makes himself known, but he does not exaggerate or seek easy applause. He is not a personalist.

Among all the signs of discontinuity, however, the return of the theme of truth in speeches is particularly substantial. Benedict XVI had centered his diplomatic doctrine on truth, so much so that his first message for the World Day of Peace was “In truth, peace.” Pope Francis had brought about a change of perspective. Francis asked to concentrate on concrete situations, rather than on great concepts. He used an inductive rather than a deductive method, and he sought practical questions rather than theoretical ones.

Laudato si’, the first great social encyclical of Pope Francis, is dedicated to a specific theme, ecology (the care of the typical home, in the Catholic term), and is full of data regarding pollution that would never have been in an encyclical because they are variable data. And then the Pope had to update that encyclical, and he did it with an exhortation, Laudate Deum. Laudato Si was written for COP21 in Paris. The Laudate Deum given at COP28 in Dubai. These two documents have a specific objective and seem more like working papers for international institutions, despite having clear connotations of Catholic social doctrine.

It is unlikely that this will happen with Leo XIV.

Not only has he relaunched the theme of diplomacy of truth, but he has also operated a Copernican reversal regarding what has been the general dictate until now. The Pope has said that this truth is for Christians’ faith in a person and that the Church will never tire of telling the truth about God and man, even if this frankness could be misinterpreted.

It is a substantial paradigm shift, which follows the attempt at a paradigm shift under Pope Francis and at his direction, such as it was.

Pope Francis asked to speak to the men of the time, with the language of the time. The reform of the Pontifical Academy of Theology or the curricula of Catholic universities was also based on this. A transdisciplinary language was asked for, and this meant, above all, abandoning the language of identity but trying to open up to the world in order to be understood by the world.

Leo XIV asks to preach the truth and accept that the world may not understand. In short, he outlines a world in which the Christian presence must be profiled starting from the announcement of the truth. It is not a question of finding a language to be able to speak to everyone. It is a question of explaining oneself to everyone so that everyone can understand the language.

It seems abstract, but it is not.

This paradigm shift will also change the way speeches are written in the Vatican, which is still very much tied to Pope Francis’s style and his philosophy of “see, judge, and act” that has materialized in Latin America.

Leo XIV is the first Pope not to be formed in the debates of the Second Vatican Council,
but afterwards. He is a Pope of a new generation. The language must change, and the old categories will no longer help understand the pontificate. In short, we are facing an epochal change that is yet to be deciphered.