My relationship with the church of my youth has certainly had its highs and lows.
As someone who was raised in the Catholic faith, I have participated in various sacraments, regularly attend Sunday mass, and received a Catholic education that culminated at Georgetown University, which has a Jesuit background. My father was dedicated to his faith, attending mass daily for the Eucharist before heading to his law practice, and my aunt was a nun, a Sister of Charity who earned a PhD in classical languages.
Conversely, I have struggled for many years with the rigid adherence to Catholic doctrine—there are numerous rules to follow!—and I have been deeply disturbed by the instances of sexual abuse involving clergy and the subsequent cover-ups. These scandals have cast a long shadow over the Church and have distanced me from my faith.
In fact, due to my interest in yoga and Eastern philosophies, I have humorously referred to myself as “a lapsed Catholic and a half-hearted Buddhist.”
However, recently I have felt a renewed connection to Catholicism that I haven’t experienced since I donned a delicate white dress for my first communion in second grade.
In simple terms, I find inspiration in Pope Leo’s ongoing message of peace and his unwavering stance against the harmful rhetoric and erratic behavior of Donald Trump, especially after Trump shared a meme depicting himself in a Christ-like manner this week. Following the predictable backlash, Trump removed the post and absurdly claimed he was merely trying to portray himself as a doctor.
The fact that Pope Leo, originally from Chicago, is the first American pope and a proponent of social justice, along with his enthusiasm for basketball, adds to his appeal.
However, my renewed interest in the faith primarily stems from his bravery and motivating words.
I am not alone in this sentiment.
This week, Dan Savage, a prominent LGBTQ+ activist and sex columnist, declared, “That’s it – I’m going to start attending mass again,” after the pope used his @pontifex account, which boasts nearly 18 million followers, to issue a powerful warning: “Woe to those who manipulate religion and the name of God for their military, economic, and political gain, dragging what is sacred into darkness and filth.”
Yet, Savage humorously noted that he might need to visit the confessional first, playfully stating, “Forgive me, father, for I have sinned. It’s been 45 years since my last confession. I hope you packed a lunch, father, because this is going to take a while.”
The dynamic between Trump and the pope has led to some light-hearted jokes, with speculation that Trump might encourage his supporters to establish their own version of Catholicism in America, perhaps even appointing a U.S.-based pope.
One suggestion was that he could enlist his vice president, JD Vance, a recent Catholic convert, who recently advised the pope to exercise more caution when addressing “theological matters.” This situation exemplifies the absurdity often encountered in Trump’s world.
What are the sentiments of everyday American Catholics regarding this situation?
From personal observations, I can share that many of my Catholic friends are quite pleased.
“I love our pope,” one friend texted me on Easter, accompanied by a teary-eyed emoji. “Watching him this weekend. His humility… his surrender… his love.”
This enthusiasm appears to be widespread, particularly among those with more progressive views.
As one commentator humorously noted, who would have predicted that in the midst of America’s tumultuous divisions, liberals would come to embrace Catholicism?
On a quantitative note, a recent public opinion poll conducted by both Republican and Democratic pollsters indicates a decline in Catholic support for Trump, which has fallen below 50% amid the ongoing conflict in Iran. This marks a significant shift from the 2024 election, when he garnered the Catholic vote by a 12-point margin, as reported by the National Catholic Register.
If there truly is a “feud” between Trump and Pope Leo, as many media outlets have labeled it, the question remains: who will ultimately prevail?
Will it be the controversial president, facing legal implications for sexual misconduct and who has threatened to unleash devastating violence, or the peace-promoting pontiff who stands firm against bullies?
While I don’t claim to possess all the answers—leaving that to a certain president—I am inclined to place my bets on Pope Leo.
Margaret Sullivan is a columnist for The Guardian US, focusing on media, politics, and culture.
