After Pope Leo XIV was elected on May 8, 2025, many prognosticators and colleagues predicted a quiet beginning to his pontificate. The former Robert Prevost, several said, “takes his time and listens before speaking or taking concrete action.” World events and the desires of so many—Catholic and not—for the pope’s commentary or considerations might have forever eliminated the possibility of a quiet first year for any pontiff. But as we approach the one-year anniversary of his election, we can see the outlines of a papacy that combines quiet and measured deliberation with a clear and prophetic voice on many issues of the day, ecclesial and not. 

America asked five scholars to weigh in on Leo’s first year in the chair of Peter—and on what we might expect in the future. The first is Colleen Dulle, Vatican correspondent for America, on Leo’s relationship with (and impact on) the church in the United States thus far. Next, M. Cathleen Kaveny of Boston College offers her reflections on Leo’s vision for his papacy (and how that might differ from other recent popes), as well as his task to continue to embed the teachings of the Second Vatican Council in the institutions of the church.

Robert P. Hagan, O.S.A., writes of the ways in which Leo’s first year has shown his Augustinian roots as well as the deep influence of Augustinian spirituality. Anna Rowlands of Durham University then considers Leo’s public embrace of synodality and the processes Pope Francis put into place to nurture it in the church. Finally, Agbonkhianmeghe E. Orobator, S.J., reflects on what Leo’s reign might mean for Africa, particularly in light of his April visit to four countries on Christianity’s fastest-growing continent.

—The Editors

The American Church and the American Pope 

By Colleen Dulle

One year ago, the cardinal-electors at the papal conclave overwhelmingly defied the oft-repeated belief that there could never be a pope from the United States. The conventional wisdom was that a pope from a global superpower might give that country outsized influence in the church—a sort of mirror image of historical American fears that a Catholic president would take his or her orders from the Vatican. In 1894, Puck magazine ran a famous political cartoon that portrays the first papal envoy to the United States casting a menacing shadow across the country with the caption “The American Pope.” The suspicion ran both ways: Five years later, across the Atlantic, Pope Leo XIII condemned a number of heresies he lumped together under the label of “Americanism.”

And yet we now have an American pope—and the United States has had two Catholic presidents. Robert Prevost’s nationality, the U.S. electors insisted in a post-conclave press conference, was not something the cardinal-electors considered. Other electors suggested an American pope could serve as a needed counterpoint to U.S. President Donald Trump on the global stage and could even bring in donations from the United States that had dried up under Pope Francis, in hopes of solving the Vatican’s financial crisis. Some interpreters speculated that the cardinals were open to an American pope because, as Cardinal Francis George predicted, the United States had entered into political decline. 

In any case, because of his dual citizenship (the United States and Peru) and years as a missionary and world traveler, Cardinal Prevost was widely seen as “the least American of the Americans,” making the prospect of a Yankee pope an easier pill to swallow for those who may have been uneasy with the prospect of an American in the chair of Peter.

But those who hoped an American pope might use his bully pulpit for a showdown with Mr. Trump have thus far been mostly disappointed. Although the pontiff had retweeted articles critical of the Trump administration before his election and reportedly helped Pope Francis draft a letter to the U.S. bishops rebutting JD Vance’s interpretation of St. Augustine on the “order of loves,” Leo XIV has been measured and indirect in his criticisms of his home country. Vatican insiders say he has intentionally ceded the floor to local bishops; he has also relied on Cardinal Pietro Parolin, the Vatican’s secretary of state and runner-up in the conclave, while Leo has experienced, as he told Crux, a “huge learning curve” in becoming a world leader overnight. Cardinal Parolin recently called on Mr. Trump directly to end the war in Iran, contravening the Vatican tradition of not calling out aggressors by name.

Stronger papal comments could be coming. As Christopher Lamb, a journalist who chronicled U.S. resistance to Pope Francis in his book The Outsider, has written, “Leo is a lion who knows when to roar.”

Leo’s less direct comments, though, have been frequent and notable. In the first half of his papacy thus far, he frequently had off-the-cuff conversations with journalists outside his vacation home in Castel Gandolfo, where he spends most Tuesdays. There, he said in October, “Someone who says, ‘I’m against abortion but I’m in agreement with the inhuman treatment of immigrants in the United States,’ I don’t know if that’s pro-life.” 

Leo had stopped speaking to reporters at the end of the Jubilee Year; however, after the United States and Israel began strikes on Iran, the pope approached an American reporter at Castel Gandolfo, seemingly expecting to be asked about the war. He also urged “less hatred and more peace, and work for authentic dialogue,” echoing his frequent appeals for peace.

Following the U.S. military operation to capture the president of Venezuela, Nicolás Maduro, in January, the pope addressed the representatives of the 184 countries that have diplomatic relations with the Holy See, lamenting that the “principle established after the Second World War, which prohibited nations from using force to violate the borders of others, has been completely undermined.” Instead, he said, “A diplomacy that promotes dialogue and seeks consensus among all parties is being replaced by a diplomacy based on force.”

Analyzing this speech in The New York Times, the journalist David Gibson wrote that rather than “one half of a mano-a-mano between pope and president,” Leo’s comments “may be better seen as the articulation of a post-Trump global order, one informed by universal values and institutional norms rather than tribal and individual self-interest.” He concludes, “Leo is not looking for a fight with Mr. Trump; he is looking past him.”

What might “looking past” the current administration entail for this first American pope? Primarily, it means looking past politics to the church, which has outlasted empires greater and more long-lived than our own. Leo is not only or even primarily a head of state; he is a pope, and a relatively young one at that. He will likely have a similar-sized impact on the U.S. church, particularly its episcopacy, to that of St. John Paul II. 

Leo’s early selections for the U.S. episcopacy show the direction of that impact. He has repeatedly appointed bishops who are vocal critics of Mr. Trump’s immigration crackdown, including Bishop Michael Pham in San Diego, Archbishop Ronald Hicks in New York and Bishop Manuel de Jesús Rodríguez in Palm Beach; several of his appointments are of men who are immigrants themselves. Leo is shoring up a generation of bishops who will share his concern for migrants and advocate for them on the local level.

The pope’s most significant shift with regard to the U.S. bishops’ conference has not been his appointments, though; it has been his ability to push the U.S. bishops toward greater unity in their political voice. For the last few decades, it seemed that such unity could form only around the bishops’ opposition to abortion; now, however, the bishops speak frequently and boldly about migration and voted almost unanimously to approve a rare “special message,” stating their opposition to “indiscriminate mass deportation.”

When it comes to his home country, Pope Leo is playing the long game. He speaks out strongly but indirectly, leaving more direct criticisms to local bishops and the Vatican’s diplomatic operation. He realizes that President Trump has no interest in listening to him (indeed, the two have never spoken), so Leo instead appeals to the consciences of those in the administration who might. But above all, he looks beyond President Trump: temporally, geographically and politically. Leo knows his moral authority will be exercised after Mr. Trump is no longer president, that his message is heard beyond the United States and that it is appreciated by ordinary people around the world.

Perhaps that gives this American pope an even greater influence than the one so feared in the United States a century ago.

Colleen Dulle is a Vatican correspondent for America.

Pope Leo XIV greets people at the conclusion of his weekly general audience in the Paul VI Audience Hall at the Vatican on Feb. 4, 2026. (CNS photo/Vatican Media)

Leo’s Threefold Responsibility

By M. Cathleen Kaveny

“After a fat pope, a thin pope”—or so the Italians say. 

The saying doesn’t refer to the B.M.I. of the successive occupants of the see of Peter—it is a metaphor for their general outlook and style. Some Catholic commentary has tacitly drawn on its underlying sentiment to suggest that Pope Leo XIV will take a strikingly different attitude toward the Second Vatican Council than his predecessor, Pope Francis. Rather than prioritize aggiornamento, he will cultivate ressourcement. Rather than embracing the novus ordo, he will look kindly on the traditional Latin Mass. Rather than encouraging young Catholics to “make a mess” as Pope Francis did, he will promote law and order.

But this way of analyzing different and successive papal styles is insufficient for three reasons. First, the binary it proposes is too simple, and even simplistic. Second, it is too oppositional. It presents a successor pope as if he is a candidate from a different political party who seeks to undo the work of his predecessor. Third, and most important, it is not theologically grounded. 

A far better schema can be found in the ancient understanding of the munus triplex—the threefold work of Jesus as prophet, priest and king. First articulated by Eusebius of Caesarea (circa 263-330), the munus triplex helps structure “Lumen Gentium,” Vatican II’s “Dogmatic Constitution on the Church.” 

All Catholics, lay and ordained, participate in the threefold work of Christ. But the schema offers a particularly helpful way of understanding the work of the pope, the vicar of Christ. All popes must faithfully exercise all three aspects of Christ’s work. Yet different times in the life of the church may call for a pope who emphasizes one aspect over the other two, without denigrating or replacing them.

In my view, St. John Paul II and Benedict XVI both stressed the prophetic aspect of the munus triplex. This may seem counterintuitive. When we think of prophets, we think of wild-eyed, wild-haired social outcasts. But if we read “Lumen Gentium” carefully, we should think instead of teachers and witnesses. Professors by both temperament and training, both John Paul and Benedict helped the church think and learn about what fidelity to the Gospel entails in the contemporary world. While John Paul focused more on moral questions, emphasizing in particular the dignity of each human being, Benedict concentrated on metaphysical and epistemological issues: He asked us what it means to hold to Christ’s truth in an era pervaded by relativism.

Francis most fully embodied the priestly role of Jesus, which prioritizes healing, forgiving and reconciling. His two predecessors had clarified doctrine in the wake of the tumult of Vatican II. But they had not fully dealt with the wounds of the world and of the church, many of which were self-inflicted. The Argentine pope met with the outcasts of both the church and world, calling for a “revolution of tenderness.” Just as St. Francis of Assisi embraced a leper, Francis encountered a man similarly deformed by neurofibromatosis. He healed by listening—most of all to victims of clergy sexual abuse.

What about Leo XIV? I suspect he will prioritize Jesus’ kingly role. As “Lumen Gentium” makes clear, fidelity to Christ’s kingship requires being both a shepherd and a suffering servant—not a self-involved despot. The crown Jesus wears is adorned with thorns, not with jewels. Very little, it appears, could be more painful than dealing with the thorns of church bureaucracies, both in Rome and around the globe. But Leo must take on this task if the prophetic and priestly contributions of his predecessors will have a lasting impact on future generations of Catholics.

As Leo himself is acutely aware, Vatican II is moving from personal memory to institutional memory in the life of the church. Only four of the over 2,000 bishops who participated in the council are still living. Pope John Paul II entered the council as an auxiliary bishop; he left as archbishop of Krakow. Pope Benedict XVI also attended the council; he served as the theological advisor to the archbishop of Cologne; Pope Francis did not attend, but he had entered the Jesuits before it convened. In stark contrast, when the council opened in October 1962, Pope Leo XVI was just starting second grade. No bishop, priest or Jesuit, he was a little boy who would have just made his first holy Communion.

In my view, Leo’s main task is to embed Vatican II in the institutions of the church. The council is not merely a set of documents; it limns a three-dimensional way of encountering God and other people, including but not limited to fellow members of the body of Christ. He needs to ensure that this body develops “muscle memory” for the teachings of Vatican II. I think that Leo is fully cognizant of his task. For example, he is taking steps to institutionalize and regularize the practice of synodality, which grows directly from Vatican II’s ecclesiology. 

As a servant leader, Leo must help the first postconciliar generation hand down the patrimony of a council that they not only did not attend, but also do not remember. Servant leadership supports the prophetic and priestly functions of the munus triplex, allowing doctrinal integrity, social trust, mercy and forgiveness to pass from generation to generation.

This January, Leo began a series of weekly catechesis sessions on Vatican II itself. Although he recognizes that decades have passed since the council closed in 1965, he is insistent that it must be kept vibrantly alive in our institutional memory. Leo writes: “As we approach the documents of Vatican II and rediscover their prophetic and contemporary relevance, we welcome the rich tradition of the life of the Church and, at the same time, we question ourselves about the present and renew our joy in running towards the world to bring it the Gospel of the kingdom of God, a kingdom of love, justice and peace.”

M. Cathleen Kaveny is the Darald and Juliet Libby Professor of Law and Theology at Boston College.

Pope Leo XIV greets people after celebrating Mass during a parish visit to the Church of St. Mary of the Presentation in Rome on March 8.. (CNS/Vatican Media).

The Influence of Augustine’s ‘Rule’

By Robert P. Hagan

Anniversaries are wonderful times to reflect and remember where we have been and to look forward to what lies ahead. On May 8, 2025, Cardinal Robert Francis Prevost, O.S.A., was elected through the guidance of the Holy Spirit to serve as the 267th pope for our universal church. It was no small coincidence that this would take place for this self-proclaimed “son of Augustine” on the feast of Our Lady of Grace. St. Augustine, among other things, is known as the Doctor of Grace. For Augustinians in the United States, who first arrived from Ireland in the late 18th century, May 8 would have additional significance. It is also the anniversary of the burning of St. Augustine Church in Philadelphia in 1884, part of the nativist Know Nothing Party riots opposing Catholic immigrants. Yet out of the ashes came the first Augustinian successor to St. Peter, and the first pope from the United States: Pope Leo XIV.

Augustinians around the world felt a combination of surprise, awe, humility and pride that this gifted priest would be called to this servant leadership position for our church and our world. Immediately, questions came from every corner of the world regarding this Augustinian friar from the Midwest of the United States, who graduated from Villanova University, served for many years with the poorest of the poor in Peru, and held many leadership positions within the order. Many asked crucial questions like: Does he like deep dish pizza? Does he root for the Cubs or the White Sox? However, it was not long after the white smoke cleared that a deeper inquiry began: How will he lead? What values are important to him? How will his Augustinian roots and foundation affect the papacy and the global church?

One does not have to look very far to see how his Augustinian foundation is seasoning Pope Leo’s messaging, audiences, meetings, homilies and approach to the challenging issues facing our church and our world. Take a deeper dive into the life of St. Augustine and you will discover a man who lived from 354 to 430 A.D., who was a sinner before he was a saint. He was supported by friends and family, especially his mother, Monica, who never gave up on her son. Augustine was extremely intelligent and for years was swept up in the distractions of the world that can steal our focus and our purpose. Tormented by his constant restlessness and search for peace, he pleaded with God to have mercy on him and to show him the way. Shortly after his conversion experience, Augustine began to live in community where friars would spend time focused on prayer, service to others, and growing in their relationship with God and one another.

He established a practical guide for living a monastic life, The Rule of St. Augustine. The Rule is the oldest monastic rule focusing on the virtues of poverty, chastity and obedience. This emphasis on the common good for all people centers on the scriptural command to love God and neighbor, not as something that is forced, but rather freely chosen. The Rule of St. Augustine also establishes the purpose and basis of common life: “Before all else love God and your neighbor because these are the chief commandments given to us.” The Rule and Augustinian spirituality emphasize such core values as prayer, community, friendship, contemplation and action, service, missionary spirit, solidarity with the poor, listening, effective communication, forgiveness, reconciliation and peacemaking.

For an Augustinian, The Rule of St. Augustine is a way of life, a fundamental GPS for good living and witnessing to the Gospel. Pope Leo not only pledged his life to living this Rule, but has spent much of his life teaching students, parishioners and countless others to do the same. It is exciting and inspiring to see glimpses of that core belief system manifesting itself in his leadership style, challenging the communicators of our age to be truth-tellers and calling world leaders to be peacemakers and to be mindful of the poor and disenfranchised.

As we have witnessed, Leo is unafraid to enter the tensions around immigration and, as a missionary, reminds us that we all are “brothers and sisters in need of compassion.” He echoes St. Augustine, who encouraged his congregation facing hardship when he preached: “The times are troublesome—change human beings, and the times will be changed.” Leo will help to shepherd us through the new age of artificial intelligence, relying on the Holy Spirit, good counsel and the “teacher within,” who calls us to remember that just because we can do something does not mean that we ought to, and to remember that we are all made in the image and likeness of God and at all times to treat one another with dignity and respect.

One of the observations that has been made by those who have known Leo for many years is how seamlessly he seems to have assumed the role of universal shepherd and all the many responsibilities and burdens that go along with it. There is no pope school, no papal internship, and yet he speaks clearly and calmly. He prays, sings, preaches and hosts people with a certain humble grace that Augustine would refer to as “interiority.” This internal grace comes from God and appears to be divinely bestowed upon him for all of us.

Father Prevost wrote his academic dissertation on the role of the prior, which is a core leadership position held in the order. The chapter on governance and obedience in the Rule has much to say regarding the exercise of leadership and clearly has now shaped Leo’s leadership style. It reads: 

The Superior for his part, must not think himself fortunate in his exercise of authority but in his role as serving you in love. In your eyes he shall hold the first place among you by dignity of his office, but in fear before God, he shall be as the least among you…. Let him admonish the unruly, cheer the fainthearted, support the weak, and be patient towards all (1 Thes 5:14).… He should strive to be loved by you rather than feared, ever mindful that he must give an account of you to God.

May Leo continue to do just that.

Happy anniversary, Pope Leo XIV! May God bless you with the grace, wisdom, strength and humility to help us all find rest for our restless hearts. As we move through these challenging and uncertain times, with values that never go out of style, may this good shepherd guide us all along the road to peace.

Robert P. Hagan, O.S.A., is the 41st Prior Provincial at the Augustinian Province of St. Thomas of Villanova.

Pope Leo XIV greets the faithful from the popemobile after Palm Sunday Mass in St. Peter’s Square at the Vatican on March 29. (CNS/Lola Gomez).

The Pope Among the People of God

By Anna Rowlands

In the days between the death of Pope Francis and the election of Pope Leo XIV, the topic of synodality emerged as one of the most controversial in the papal transition. The question of the reception of the synodal renewal envisioned by Francis became a visible, traceable fault line as a new pope was being chosen. In the communications that trickled out to the waiting public through carefully choreographed media interviews and Vatican press briefings, it became clear that three quite distinct perspectives were discernible. Some wished to suppress synodality; others wanted to proceed cautiously in the pastoral and missiological dimensions and perhaps on a corrected path with regard to structural and doctrinal matters; and others still hoped to move forward with energy. 

As Leo emerged onto the balcony of St. Peter’s, the answer to the question of the reception of the synod among the cardinals seemed to be that we would continue to move forward. The cardinal-electors chose a pope who had quietly but constructively participated in the synodal process, had prior experience of synodality as a routine way of working in Latin America and was willing to use the word constructively in his first papal address, again from the balcony of St. Peter’s. 

The watchwords that framed his synodal vision in that address were unity, communion, bridge-building and peace for the church and for the world. This marked a pronounced shift from Francis’ own framing language of remaining with the tensions, finding the points of overflow guided by the Spirit, and being unafraid of conflict and differences. I remember standing in St. Peter’s Square amid the flags and cheers, wondering if we would maintain a continuity of path but with a rather different animating vision.

In the days after his election, Leo told the gathered cardinals that he intended not only to continue the synodal process but also to be a more synodal pope. He would gather his cardinals more often, listen to them and discern with them. His model would be mutual accompaniment: a pope among the cardinals. They would walk only together. 

This was a frontier that Francis had not managed to cross. Embattled, needing to find out who he could trust in a hurry, he pursued a modus operandi that at times contrasted with his own powerful synodal message. Leo set out upon his papacy from the other side of that frontier, and this seemed to be met with palpable relief by many.

In the year since his election, firm progress on the wider synodal vision has been harder to measure. Leo gave a green light to the full implementation of the “Final Document of the Synod” and to the planning for an ecclesial assembly in 2028. A first substantial gathering of cardinals has occurred, and the method used to guide the meeting was synodal. This allowed cardinals to choose their preferred topics and enabled a more conversational, fluid exchange. Some complained, even openly to the media, but most seemed to welcome this move. 

The 10 synodal study groups that were established to examine the knotty topics that could not sensibly be moved forward by a group of 400 people over the space of two four-week sessions have been slowly publishing their reports. Many of the doctrinal and structural questions raised by the synod process are covered here: reform of canon law, the participation of women, pastoral and moral questions concerning the family, sexuality and so forth. Those reports, like the entire synodal process, constitute advice to the pope, not parallel processes. Therefore, what will matter is not merely the reports’ contents, but Leo’s ownership of the content once they are made public.

In other areas where the final document had suggested fairly clear pastoral pathways, cautious progress appears to be underway. Leo has continued, despite the legal complexities, to appoint women to key curial roles. This was one flashpoint among more conservative cardinals in the days before the conclave. He has thus far refused to reverse Francis’ moves in this area. Instead, Leo has advanced this cause, at least for women religious. The canonical provision needs, therefore, to catch up so that such positions are better established and protected; as a canon lawyer, he must know this.

In many ways, however, the theater of action has moved away from Rome and to the local churches and continental groupings. Whether synodality will become a generative focus for renewal and reform will be determined by what happens in these contexts. The extent to which bishops, priests, deacons and laypeople will walk with Leo in the task of implementation remains to be seen. It is possible that we will see a more synodal papacy as a point of contrast rather than continuity with the wider episcopacy and presbyterate. 

Here, the question is the extent to which Leo can be both a synodal beacon on the hill and leaven in the world of his priests and bishops.

One clear Roman test does remain. The synodal process will remain only partially realized and, in another sense, permanently thwarted if Leo cannot also bring the Roman Curia with him. This might well be the most intractable challenge of all. There are those in the Curia hungry for such a conversion of culture, but there remain very significant obstacles to such change.

In the daily briefing notes issued by the Vatican press office and in media interviews given by cardinals during the days of the general congregations before the conclave last year, it became apparent that the three quite different takes on synodality were emerging after the death of Francis. It is unlikely that these views have gone away, but somehow Leo appears to be tentatively steering his own course. He has listened to detractors, modeled a pastoral synodality and has already offered a step beyond Francis in integrating synodality into the conduct of the papacy itself and the relationship of the successor of Peter with his cardinals. 

What was also traceable in those daily notes was the kind of pope the cardinals thought the church needed: a shepherd, a teacher, a unifier, a man of peace. 

This first year has been one of watching and waiting; most of the big decisions that face Leo remain ahead, including on the theological and practical vision of synodality that he will foster. Nonetheless, in an age bewitched by the idea that good leadership takes the form of an unrestrained, arbitrary will hovering over the lives of others, Leo’s deepest synodal sign so far is perhaps his choice to conduct himself in style, tone and message as a pope among God’s people, among his fellow bishops and cardinals, and among the struggling, suffering and longing peoples of this age. This kind of synodal leadership serves as a sign to a different kind of reign: God’s. 

Anna Rowlands teaches Catholic social thought and practice at Durham University in Durham, England, and is a member of the Vatican Dicastery for Integral Human Development.

Pope Leo XIV greets the local community during a parish visit to the Church of the Sacred Heart of Jesus in Rome, Italy, on March 15, 2026. (CNS photo/Vatican Media)

Pope Leo and the African Church

By Agbonkhianmeghe E. Orobator

One can only imagine the gradient of the learning curve that Pope Leo XIV has navigated since his election. And given his 10-day trip to four African countries planned for April, it is also intriguing to explore the relationship between Leo and the continent of Africa less than a year into his pontificate. 

When he served as the global leader of the Augustinian order, Robert Prevost visited members of his congregation serving in various parts of the continent several times. I recall after his election seeing a blurry photo of him with parishioners in a remote parish of my hometown, Benin City, Nigeria. Pope Leo knows Africa. Africa knows Leo. 

This relationship will grow thanks to his April trip. An apostolic journey of this duration is a major testament to the religious weight of the continent and will provide many opportunities for the pope to reconnect with a region that is home to a fast-growing Catholic population. The trend will surely be visibly illustrated by the massive turnout of Catholics to welcome the pope.

The leadership of the continent’s 280 million Catholics may seem at times out of step with the agenda of the pope. While the evidence suggests that synodality has received a mixed reception among the continent’s Catholic leaders, it is also true that Africa is underrepresented at the church’s highest levels of leadership. Drawing on its leadership potential would enrich the global Catholic Church. With the benefit of his prior knowledge of Africa and the opportunity to visit it again, Leo might encourage greater openness to synodality and remind the world that Africa’s place in the church matters.

Leo’s choice of countries for his visit is telling. Since he is a member of a religious order that traces its origins to St. Augustine of Hippo (354-430), Algeria offers a fitting setting for a papal pilgrimage. The Muslim-majority country is also the site of ongoing encounters between Christianity and Islam. A papal visit will draw attention to the delicate issue of the relationship between the two world religions and the conflict that sometimes tarnishes or undermines religious tolerance and coexistence in Africa.

It is worth noting that several of the countries on Leo’s itinerary are under regimes with questionable democratic credentials and records of economic dysfunction. In Algeria, Human Rights Watch reports continuing repression of dissent, constraint on civic discourse and restriction of freedom of expression, the press, association, assembly and movement. 

So too Angola: After 50 years of independence and ahead of elections in 2027, Angola’s political climate has deteriorated, with outbreaks of violence that could derail the fragile democracy cobbled together after decades of violence and conflict. 

In Equatorial Guinea, poverty is rampant as the nation struggles with endemic corruption and biting sanctions induced by illicit financial flows related to drug smuggling. And Cameroon is held captive by a regime that has overstayed its welcome by several decades, muzzled the opposition and left the economy in tatters. 

Pope Benedict XVI eulogized Africa as “an immense spiritual ‘lung’ for a humanity which seems to be in crisis of faith and hope.” Pope Leo’s visit will reiterate this message about Africa as a place of resilience and hope in the face of multiple adversities.

Another grim reality that must be on Leo’s mind is the spate of violence directed at Christians and their institutions in some parts of Africa. In Nigeria and the neighboring Sahel region, gangs of militants and religious extremists have attacked places of worship, schools and villages and have abducted children. Leo is aware of this situation and has been consistent in his condemnation of this trend. His pronouncements are suffused with prayers for the release of abducted Christians and their pastors and a cessation to the plague of religiously motivated violence and conflict. 

It is conceivable that in the future he will issue a more robust condemnation of this phenomenon, while encouraging greater resolve and hope on the part of vulnerable Christian communities.

Like his predecessors, Pope Leo possesses a quiet moral force that allows him to name social ills, advocate for the poor and vulnerable, and goad political leaders to prioritize peace, justice and integral human development. This first papal visit offers him an opportunity to listen to African Christians, learn about the realities of their daily life, and encourage Africans who have lost faith in political institutions and look up to the church for solace, solidarity and a sense of direction. 

His message of reconciliation, justice and peace in a turbulent world, along with the stress he places on the importance of diplomacy and dignity for people, especially the poor and the marginalized, will find enthusiastic reception during his peregrinations in Africa.

Agbonkhianmeghe E. Orobator, S.J., is dean and professor of theology at the Jesuit School of Theology of Santa Clara University, and editor of African Synodal Theology: A Tall Tree Is as Strong as Its Roots.