Quite a lot has already been said about our new pope and his choice to be called Leo XIV. Time will more fully reveal his reasons beyond those he has told us, but along with other Catholics, I was excited when I heard we would call him Leo. Of course, it was Leo XIII who gave us the Leonine Prayers after Mass and wrote the prayer to St. Michael, which has made a resurgence in parishes over the last few years. Leo XIII was also an ardent defender of families and of the Church against its enemies—and we have already often been reminded that Catholic social teaching (CST) found its initial voice during his papacy.
Leo XIII is most often associated with his landmark encyclical, Rerum Novarum, but this was a development of themes he had already addressed in earlier teachings. His second encyclical, Quod Apostolici Muneris (1878), was written in the first year of his papacy and preceded Rerum Novarum by thirteen years. In it, he was already attacking the errors of socialism, saying the socialist goal was to “subvert all revelation and overthrow the supernatural order.” He also defended the right to private property and a social hierarchy, calling it an expression of the divine order.
His short encyclical on the Church in Poland, Caritatis (1894), is a treasure. He begins, “From time to time We have sent the bishops of other Catholic nations individual letters as tokens of Our love and providence; We have long desired to find an opportunity to do the same for you.” Then he praises Poland’s history: “When all of Europe was trembling with fear at the attacks of the powerful enemies of the Christian name, your fathers were the first to offer their lives in remarkable defensive battles, as they guarded the civil and religious order.” Almost prophetically, Leo XIII seemed to be strengthening Poland in preparation for what was to come—the threats of Soviet propaganda that would wage war against the Church and the world and even enslave the Polish people under the crushing power of a communist regime.
In this short letter, Leo stressed the importance of charity in alleviating poverty, and he condemned those who “strive to revive against [the Church] old calumnies, so often refuted and entirely worn out, making of them a new kind of reproach.” Leo emphasized the importance of protecting marriage and family life; on the education of children, he wrote that “parents must realize that they can provide for their [children’s] education properly and well only by exercising great vigilance.” This was wise advice for parents then as well as now. All would do well to heed his warning that youth are “exposed daily to great dangers to their faith” and his admonishment to parents choosing schools and colleges for their children: “They must avoid not only those where errors concerning religion are deliberately interspersed with the teaching, or where impiety reigns, but also those that consider Christian culture and morals inappropriate for instruction and offer no courses in them.”
“As you did it to the least of these, you did it to me.”
While Leo XIII was writing against the intellectual and social developments of the time that would later be called modernism, Leo XIV is called to speak into a postmodern, nihilistic culture that has made even more perilous threats to the very nature of what it means to be a human person. Our world is desperate for clarity on many issues; by further developing our social teaching, Pope Leo XIV can equip us to go out into the world with him—with renewed evangelical fervor—to heal our wounded culture with the good news of Jesus Christ.
In each century, the foundation of CST has been respect for the dignity of the human person and care for the poor. Pope Francis often reminded us that “Jesus’ followers recognize themselves by their closeness to the poor, the little ones, the sick and the imprisoned, the excluded and the forgotten, those without food and clothing.” He called this a “key criterion of Christian authenticity.” Just as this criterion was a mark of Christians in the first century, it should be ours too. Francis reminded us as well that “the poor” are not just those deprived of material goods but all who are caught in various forms of social, physical, and spiritual deprivation. We might even add existential despair. Jesus’s words in Matthew’s Gospel make the consequences of not caring for the needs of the poor very clear. If we refuse the poor, we refuse Christ himself and eternal punishment awaits us (Matt. 25:45–46).
That’s a sobering reality. The way to evangelical witness and to our own salvation, then, is to be generous, to live simply, and to embrace holy poverty—but how?
The basis of CST, very much related to the need to live simply and embrace holy poverty, is what our social teaching calls the universal destination of goods (see Compendium of the Social Doctrine of the Church 171). The term is sometimes misunderstood—even alarming to some—because it can be confused with one of the socialist principles Leo XIII condemned: a rejection of private property and public ownership of the means of production so that economic inequalities can be reduced by the redistribution of wealth. That isn’t what CST understands the universal destination of goods to be. The Pastoral Constitution of the Second Vatican Council, Gaudium et Spes, puts even more bite into the challenge:
The Fathers and Doctors of the Church held this opinion, teaching that men are obliged to come to the relief of the poor and to do so not merely out of their superfluous goods. If one is in extreme necessity, he has the right to procure for himself what he needs out of the riches of others. Since there are so many people prostrate with hunger in the world, this sacred council urges all, both individuals and governments, to remember the aphorism of the Fathers, “Feed the man dying of hunger, because if you have not fed him, you have killed him.” (69)
The Catechism of the Catholic Church moderates that obligation by stating that the “goods of production—material or immaterial—such as land, factories, practical or artistic skills, oblige their possessors to employ them in ways that will benefit the greatest number. Those who hold goods for use and consumption should use them with moderation, reserving the better part for guests, for the sick and the poor” (CCC 2405). Said simply, then, without being compelled by governments, each of us is called to live in a “natural solidarity” with one another, sharing generously to provide for the needs of others (CCC 2402).
So, how do we live this solidarity—how do we exercise the preferential option for the poor (see Compendium 182) and live simply, embracing holy poverty? Pope St. John Paul II leads us to a discernment in one of his social encyclicals, Sollicitudo Rei Socialis, stating, “This is an option, or a special form of primacy in the exercise of Christian charity, to which the whole tradition of the Church bears witness. It affects the life of each Christian inasmuch as he or she seeks to imitate the life of Christ, but it applies equally to our social responsibilities and hence to our manner of living, and to the logical decisions to be made concerning the ownership and use of goods” (SRS 42).
Discerning how to appropriate the core teachings of CST is challenging to a prosperous society, but the challenge comes from the master himself. If we are going to live according to his teaching, caring for the material needs of those who live in a state of poverty must become a “logical decision,” as John Paull II wrote, by which we consider what it means for each of us to live simply and embrace the gift of poverty in our lives. Jesus came into the world poor as an example of the power of a life of detachment lived in love for others. He is the model.
There are those who make a deliberate choice to live in material poverty for the kingdom. It is one of the evangelical counsels professed by men and women religious. But it’s harder for those of us with families and other obligations that restrict how we can live in material poverty. Still, we don’t want to come to the end of our lives having stepped over Lazarus at the gate either. We must extend to him the care that CST (and Jesus) tells us is his due. What does that mean for each of us individually? There again is the “logical decision,” and it is a matter for prayerful discernment.
The good news is that there are forms of simplicity and poverty that are achievable by everyone, and here is one suggestion. There are many living with disabilities who feel marginalized and unwelcomed by the Church, and this is one form of spiritual poverty that challenges all of us in our parishes. Dr. Erik Carter, whom I often quote, has published research showing one in three families who have a family member with a disability leave their parish because they don’t feel welcomed and cared for. Remember my reference to Lazarus above. Dr. Carter’s current research demonstrates that number is now half. Yes, around 50 percent of families who have children with developmental disabilities now leave their parish because they don’t feel accepted. When Lazarus is left in his poverty, he moves on in search of welcome elsewhere.
Alleviating the social and spiritual poverty of the disabled is one simple thing all of us can do the next time we go to Mass. The challenge to befriend those in need brings us back once again to Matthew 25: “As you did it to the least of these, you did it to me.”
I recently read a beautiful observation about our new Pope Leo XIV shortly after his election. This person wrote, “Leo has to date expressed a vision of his papacy that’s not so much about the man as about the office. And more important—about Jesus of Nazareth.”
There could be no greater hope than that we will be led confidently in the twenty-first century by one who strives daily to live in imitation of Christ, proclaiming in word and deed the social teachings of our faith. “My sheep know my voice,” said the Lord. Ad multos annos, Pope Leo XIV!