Culture
One of Us
The pope’s connections to America run deeper than you think.
Those trying to understand Pope Leo VIX by parsing his social media are missing the forest for the tweets. Robert Prevost was not communicating a total worldview when he tapped repost every so often in the midst of his pressing duties as bishop and later cardinal. Pope Leo, on the other hand, has been carefully laying the groundwork for what looks to be a thoughtful and strong magisterium in the years to come. While much remains to be seen, the direction he is starting from is already clear.
While every pope draws from many predecessors, the name he chooses signals whose legacy he cherishes most. Pope Leo’s namesake, Leo XIII (1878–1903) was a pivotal figure who wrestled mightily with the issues of modernity still facing us today, particularly the relationship of labor to capital in a rapidly advancing age. His encyclical Rerum novarum is considered the foundation of modern Catholic economic and social teaching. In his first address to the College of Cardinals, his namesake cited Rerum novarum as the main inspiration for his name. Therefore, to understand the new Pope Leo one must understand the old. Happily, revisiting Leo XIII inspires great hope for the world and for America in particular.
As the last pope of the 19th century and the first pope of the 20th, Leo XIII lived in tumultuous times. In politics, aggressively secular, often socialist movements were replacing the Christian confessional states of the past. Socially, the industrial revolution was transforming the relationship between labor and capital. Leo’s two most important texts on these changes were Immortale Dei, a work on the Christian constitution of states, and the abovementioned Rerum novarum.
On first glance, Immortale Dei is a strange text to mention in the context of an American pope. In it, Leo XIII argues that the best form of government is a Catholic confessional state. He deplores when “government is nothing more nor less than the will of the people … alone its own ruler.” That sounds like a scathing indictment of American democracy. But a full reading of the text reveals that Leo’s objections are not against democracy as such, but against any form of government which sets itself up as a rival to God’s law, particularly the natural law. He objects to those governments of his day that forced their citizens “to hold, therefore, that there is no difference in matters of religion… this is the same thing as atheism.”
Pope Leo XIV reiterated that message in his first homily when he lamented that people often view Jesus as one teacher among many and thus live in a state of “practical atheism,” saying, “A lack of faith is often tragically accompanied by the loss of meaning in life, the neglect of mercy, appalling violations of human dignity, the crisis of the family and so many other wounds that afflict our society.” Leo is stressing how faith is intimately connected to a healthy society. That teaching comes straight from the heart of Immortale Dei.
Some might counter that what Leo XIII wanted was a fully Catholic state, something recent popes have written little on and Leo XIV is unlikely to call for. But they should realize that Leo XIII was writing primarily to “all nations of the Catholic world,” namely, those states that were largely Catholic until then. Leo sets up a Catholic state as the ideal, but he acknowledges that “the Church is wont to take earnest heed that no one shall be forced to embrace the Catholic faith against his will, for, as St. Augustine wisely reminds us, ‘Man cannot believe otherwise than of his own will.’” Doubtless our new Augustinian pope would agree.
Looking at the changing world around him, Leo XIII saw a great gleam of hope, shining like a city on a hill: America. Despite his nostalgia for the ancien régime, Leo was an unabashed admirer of the United States. Writing to the U.S. bishops, Leo declared, “We highly esteem and love exceedingly the young and vigorous American nation…. All intelligent men are agreed, and We Ourselves have with pleasure intimated it above, that America seems destined for greater things.” In that same letter, Leo celebrated the friendship between George Washington and Baltimore’s Bishop John Carroll and, quoting from Washington’s Farewell Address, praised him for upholding the connection between religious devotion and civil prosperity. Leo did not want already Catholic countries to sever the bond between Church and state, but he saw in America the best and most just way to order a society where the two were already separate. To him, America was a promising alternative to the hostile, secular regimes springing up in Europe.
Interestingly, Leo XIII concluded his letter to the bishops with an exhortation to journalists, whom he acknowledges are particularly important in a democratic society. He admonished journalists to speak the truth without rancor, warning “they rather inflict than repel war if they waste their strength by discord.” In the same vein, Leo XIV, after addressing his brother cardinals, turned to journalists directly in his first press conference, telling them “we must say ‘no’ to the war of words and images, we must reject the paradigm of war.” Our Pope Leo is a thoughtful man who knows the world is watching. His mirroring of his predecessor is not accidental and should point us back to that pope’s teaching.
The crown jewel of that teaching is Rerum novarum. Read with Leo XIII’s hopes for America in mind, Rerum novarum takes on new depth. Although it maintains Leo’s overarching thesis that faith is essential to society, it also appears as a restatement and enlargement of Locke’s Second Treatise of Government—a key text of the American Founding. Condemning socialism, Leo declares private property to be a natural right and the cornerstone of economic activity. Like Locke, Leo argues that private property springs from the nature of labor itself. “When man thus turns the activity of his mind and the strength of his body toward procuring the fruits of nature, by such act he makes his own that portion of nature’s field which he cultivates.” Compare this to Locke’s formulation, “As much land as a man tills, plants, improves, cultivates, and can use the product of, so much is his property.” It looks like Leo was copying Locke’s homework; indeed, the German scholar Manfred Spieker attests that Locke’s Second Treatise was used in the composition of Rerum novarum.
By using Locke’s principle of private property, Leo XIII guaranteed broad overlap with the founding ideals of the American republic and buttressed it against the distortions of socialism. Yet, confronted with laissez-faire capitalism, Leo perceived that property rights cannot be the only foundation of society, writing “wage-earners, since they mostly belong in the mass of the needy, should be specially cared for and protected by the government.” Leo rejected the notion that the only requirement for just employment is mutual consent between employer and employee. He argued that the real standard must be a wage that would permit a frugal man to live a life of modest dignity, with time for both family and religion. Unsurprisingly, Leo enjoyed a warm relationship with Teddy Roosevelt, who championed many of Rerum novarum’s ideals.
Given all the above, it seems fitting that Leo XIII’s successor should be an American. Those of his countrymen now rushing to dismiss him for failing to conform to a few matters of present political orthodoxy should read Rerum novarum and be assured that a pope rooted in its tradition is likewise rooted in the best traditions of our country. Should he challenge us on some matters (as Leo XIII did), he will not do so from across an unbridgeable divide, but rather from a different branch of the same tree. Thus we should take the new pope at his word when he calls for authentic dialogue. Americans, especially American Catholics, should not fear to make their voice heard in Rome, but they should also listen with open minds to this new Roman voice speaking in our native tongue.
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