Pope Leo XIV, the Cardinal Robert Francis Prevost of the United States, has been elected the 267th pope.
It waits to be seen if the United States, which influences the world economically, politically, and culturally, may now have a religious ally in the Vatican.
Though he is seen as a centrist, like Pope Francis, he has embraced marginalised groups.
Many Catholics are still mourning the death of Pope Francis, who had initially recovered from polymicrobial pneumonia and was well enough to give the Easter Blessing at St Peter’s Square before his death. In that message, he called for the release of wartime and political prisoners, compassion for the marginalised, migrants, and victims of conflict in Sudan, the Congo, and Myanmar, and for peace in Ukraine.
Just days before, Pope Francis had met with US Vice President JD Vance. In a rare rebuke of the American government earlier this year, Pope Francis had criticised President Donald Trump’s deportation policies and warned Catholics against anti-immigrant narratives—remarks interpreted by some as direct criticisms of Vance himself.
Vance’s religious journey is striking. Once an evangelical, he converted to Catholicism in 2019, drawn to its traditions, moral clarity, and the stability it seemed to offer in a rapidly changing world.
“The things you believed 10 years ago are no longer acceptable,” he wrote in Hillbilly Elegy, reflecting the disorientation many older generations feel as familiar norms and values shift beneath their feet.
According to Pew Research, for every new Catholic convert, six adults leave the Church. Converts like Vance are rare and often passionately committed to their adopted faith. Religion correspondent Elizabeth Dias notes that such converts are typically zealous about their new worldview.
Vance embraces Catholic integralism—the belief that Catholic moral teachings should shape civil society. His positions are deeply conservative: pro-family, pro-natalist, anti-porn. Politically, this stance provides him with a powerful base as the Christian right gains ground in American politics. Yet, the Church he joined is not the same Church under which he now serves.
Pope Francis introduced reforms that alienated many traditionalists. His pastoral approach to LGBTQ+ Catholics—allowing blessings for same-sex couples—infuriated conservative bishops. The intellectual Guinean Cardinal Robert Sarah wrote,”The Church was being reduced to a humanitarian non-governmental organisation with sacraments.”
American Cardinal Raymond Burke also accused Francis of “trying to appease the world while compromising doctrine.”
Resistance has also emerged from bishops in Africa, Poland, and other regions.
In Laudato Si’, Pope Francis addressed climate change with urgency, earning praise from environmentalists but drawing criticism from those who felt he strayed too far into secular politics. His apostolic exhortation Amoris Laetitia allowed divorced and remarried Catholics to receive Communion, which further rankled traditionalists.
Still, Pope Francis envisioned a more inclusive, globally representative Church. He appointed bishops from diverse backgrounds and elevated women’s roles. But to many conservatives, these moves diluted the sacred and invited ambiguity where once there was certainty. Some worry a Pandora’s Box has been opened.
This tension—between tradition and reform, conservatism and liberalism— would have shaped the conclave’s direction this week. The Church is at a crossroads.
In T&T, the Archdiocese of Port-of-Spain recently condemned an AI-generated image of US President Donald Trump dressed as the pope, calling it “disrespect disguised as humour.” The New York State Catholic Conference also accused Trump of “mocking the sacred.”
JD Vance, who once compared Trump to Hitler, later accepted to be his vice president. Now, he finds himself serving his political leader who publicly “mocked” the pope, who heads the institution that anchors his faith.
Yet the Church itself has shifted. The moral certainties that once attracted Vance are no longer so certain. As Catholicism redefines itself, the question remains: How will Vance’s beliefs evolve—not just as a politician, but as a Catholic navigating a Church in flux?