5 Alarming Realities About Pope Leo XIV

Nation First looks into the words and actions of Cardinal Robert Prevost who is now Pope Leo XIV.

The Holy Spirit was not promised to the successors of Peter so that, by His revelation, they might make known new doctrine, but so that, with His assistance, they might devoutly guard and faithfully expound the revelation handed down through the Apostles.
— Pastor Aeternus, Vatican I (Denz. 1836)

The election of Pope Leo XIV—Cardinal Robert Francis Prevost—has been hailed as historic: the first American pope, a missionary pastor, a man of “dialogue.” Yet for those who take seriously the munus petrinum—the divinely instituted office of guarding the deposit of faith—his public record raises serious and necessary concerns.

A pope need not be perfect to be true. But when clarity is abandoned for ambiguity, and pastoral sensitivity is wielded to blur moral boundaries, the faithful have not only the right but the duty to question and to watch. Leo XIV, like his predecessor Francis, seems to operate within a framework that elevates accompaniment over correction, culture over catechesis, and conversation over clarity. These instincts, however well-intentioned, can gravely distort the nature of the Petrine office, especially in an age so marked by moral confusion.

1. He undermines moral clarity by tolerating same-sex blessings.

Nowhere is this more evident than in Leo XIV’s approach to the sexual revolution's incursion into the Church. In 2012, he rightly warned of the Western media’s attempt to foster “sympathy for beliefs and practices that are at odds with the Gospel,” naming the “homosexual lifestyle” and alternative family structures as incompatible with Catholic truth. That was a moment of clarity. But much has changed since. In 2024, when defending the African bishops who rejected the Vatican’s declaration on same-sex blessings (Fiducia Supplicans), he did not reassert the Church’s perennial teaching that such unions are intrinsically disordered. Instead, he justified resistance on cultural grounds—arguing that “application” of the document would not “work” in Africa. This is the strategy of equivocation: sidestepping the question of truth in favor of local adaptation. But truth is not provincial. Sin is not subject to regional exceptions. And ambiguity in moral teaching breeds confusion, which is the seedbed of scandal.

2. He rejects the Thomistic hierarchy of love, confusing justice with sentimentality.

The same theological haze appears in his criticism of Vice President JD Vance earlier this year. Vance, echoing St. Thomas Aquinas’s ordo caritatis, defended the moral priority of family and nation as part of a rightly ordered love. Leo XIV publicly rejected this, reposting the claim: “Jesus doesn’t ask us to rank our love for others.” But this is not simply a rebuke of a politician—it is a denial of a fundamental moral principle. Aquinas teaches clearly that love is hierarchical, that we owe more to those whom God has given to us by nature, blood, and covenant. To flatten love into an indiscriminate sentiment is to dissolve justice. In the name of mercy, Leo XIV risks gutting the moral order.

3. He elevates synodality while downplaying the pope’s teaching office.

Such confusion is not limited to moral theology. Leo XIV, like Francis before him, is an enthusiastic proponent of synodality. He has spoken of his desire to lead a “Church that listens,” a Church more concerned with communicating “the beauty and joy of knowing Jesus” than with teaching doctrine. But here again, we find a false dichotomy: as though doctrine were an obstacle to beauty, or truth a threat to joy. The Pope’s task is not merely to accompany, but to proclaim, to bind and loose with the authority of Christ. Vatican I made this unmistakable: the Holy Spirit was given to Peter’s successors not to reveal new doctrines, but to “devoutly guard and faithfully expound” what was handed down. A synodal Church that listens to all voices yet forgets the voice of the Lord is not pastoral—it is perilous.

4. He failed to fully pursue justice in clerical abuse investigations.

In matters of justice, too, Leo XIV’s record invites concern. As bishop in Chiclayo, Peru, he met with victims of clerical sexual abuse and initiated preliminary investigations. But local reports confirm that full canonical proceedings were never completed, and no penal process followed. Whether through negligence or misjudgment, such failure undermines the credibility of the Church’s claim to moral leadership. Governance is not merely about good intentions—it is about action rooted in justice and ordered toward truth. Here again, the instinct toward dialogue appears to have displaced the obligation to act.

5. He blends orthodoxy and modernism, creating dangerous confusion.

To be fair, Leo XIV has not embraced the radicalism of many modernists. He has affirmed that women cannot be ordained, in full accord with Ordinatio Sacerdotalis and the CDF’s definitive judgment. He has rejected gender ideology, opposing government programs in Peru that sought to teach children that gender is fluid. His support for the poor, migrants, and the environment is deeply rooted in Catholic social teaching and in continuity with the Church’s tradition of concern for the vulnerable. These are not insignificant points. But even these goods can become distorted when they are severed from the higher good: the salvation of souls and the unambiguous proclamation of divine truth.

The true danger, then, is that Leo XIV is will be a pope of the gray zone—a leader who upholds doctrine in principle, yet softens it in application; who speaks of love, but avoids naming sin; who affirms tradition, but winks at its undoing through pastoral flexibility. This is not the firmness of Peter. It is the acquiescence of Pilate.

There is, of course, a necessary caveat to all of this. The only lens we currently possess for understanding Pope Leo XIV is his public record as Cardinal Prevost—his writings, appointments, interviews, and pastoral conduct as bishop and priest. But now he sits in the Chair of Peter, a throne unlike any other. The burden of that office—the duty to guard the deposit of faith, to speak clearly where the world demands silence—may transform him. Robert Prevost the missionary may not be the same man as Leo XIV the pope. Time will tell, as it always does. It has a way of revealing whether a pontiff becomes a guardian of Tradition or a servant of the spirit of the age.

We do not condemn him. We pray for him. We hope for his courage. But we do not remain silent. The Church needs a pope who will speak like Leo the Great did to Attila the Hun, not like a diplomat to Davos. We need a pope who will confirm the brethren, not confuse them. A pope who will teach that Jesus is the truth—not merely a dialogue partner.

For now, we have Pope Leo XIV. Let us pray that he becomes the man God wills him to be—not a “bridge,” but a rock.

And let the faithful remnant be what the Church always needs: steadfast, clear, charitable, and unafraid.