Editorial: Who Was He to Judge?

An old man clad in spotless white, walking with difficulty towards a seat placed in the middle of an enormous empty space. 

This iconic image of Pope Francis, taken during the height of the COVID-19 frenzy, will most certainly mark the way the world will remember the pontiff who wed  tolerance with authority, charity with resentment, humility with the wish to please: a frail human bearing the colossal weight of St. Peter’s legacy.

With the death of Pope Francis, the Catholic Church enters yet another uncertain chapter in its long history. As the first Jesuit pope and the first non-European pontiff in centuries, Jorge Mario Bergoglio sought to bring the Church closer to the margins of society, emphasising pastoral care over what he perceived as doctrinal rigidity. Yet his legacy remains deeply divisive. Loved by secular media, hailed as a reformer by progressives, and criticised as ambiguous by traditionalists, Francis leaves behind a Church at odds with itself.

His famous rhetorical question, “If a person is gay and seeks God and has good will, who am I to judge?”, paraphrasing Romans 14.4, meant to signal a shift toward a more compassionate approach. Instead, it came to symbolise an uneasy tension in his papacy. For many Catholics, it gave proof of a reluctance to defend traditional doctrine in an era increasingly hostile to religious orthodoxy and one marked by a large-scale departure of Western society from its Christian roots.

Francis, more than any recent pope, reoriented Catholic discourse toward issues of social justice, climate change, and economic inequality—topics that won him international admiration in the corridors of power but left millions of faithful questioning whether the Church had traded moral clarity for political expediency.

A Divided Church

For decades, the dominant narrative surrounding Catholicism has been one of decline in the West and expansion elsewhere. Yet, under Francis, this picture has become far more complicated. In Europe and North America, while Mass attendance has plummeted in many dioceses, a vibrant traditionalist movement has gained momentum, particularly among younger believers disillusioned with the vagueness of Vatican pronouncements. The resurgence of traditional Latin Mass communities, the increasing political influence of Catholic conservatives, and the prominence of figures like Giorgia Meloni in Italy or J.D. Vance in the U.S. all point to a growing counterculture in opposition to Francis’ progressive papacy.

Meanwhile, in Africa and South America—long considered the Church’s strongholds—Catholicism faces unprecedented challenges. Evangelical Christianity continues to make significant inroads, particularly in Brazil, where Pentecostal movements have attracted millions of former Catholics. The Church’s alignment with Western progressive ideals—particularly on issues of gender, sexuality, and environmentalism—has also alienated many African bishops, who often see such stances as forms of ideological colonialism. The Synodal discussions in Rome exposed just how deep these fractures run. While Francis sought to unify through themes of charity and inclusion, his papacy at times appeared to widen the gulf between conservative and progressive factions within the Church.

The Great Persecution—And the Silence

Beyond internal tensions, the Church under Francis also faced increasing hostility in the wider world. While much of his pontificate was marked by efforts to build bridges with secular elites and interfaith leaders, Christianity remains the most persecuted religion globally—often without much acknowledgment from the Vatican. In China, the controversial Sino-Vatican agreement has allowed the Communist Party to tighten its grip over Catholic communities, leading to continued suppression of underground churches. In India, Hindu nationalist violence against Christians has surged, while in parts of the Muslim world, Christian minorities live under constant threat of discrimination, imprisonment, even death.

Francis, often eager to embrace interfaith dialogue, rarely applied the same moral clarity to these crises as he did to climate change or economic inequality. His pursuit of diplomatic rapprochement sometimes appeared to come at the cost of advocating forcefully for persecuted Christians. His reluctance to confront these realities head-on will remain a contentious aspect of his legacy.

Centralisation vs. Decentralisation

A key feature of Francis’ papacy was his paradoxical leadership style: while calling for synodality and greater local decision-making, he also reasserted the authority of the papacy in a manner reminiscent of pre-Vatican II pontiffs. Unlike his predecessor Benedict XVI—who, despite his conservative theological stance, had a more reserved and academic approach to governance—Francis often wielded his authority with an iron glove. While he avoided “judging” obvious departures from Christian teaching, this humility and tolerance did not prevent him from repeatedly castigating all forms of traditionalism. Dissenting bishops were sidelined, conservative theologians disciplined, Tridentine forms of the mass nearly eradicated, unaligned religious orders marginalised, and Vatican institutions were reshaped in his image, his systematic theological ambiguities serving as tools for always keeping the last word on key decisions.

One of Francis’s most defining characteristics was his ability to control the Church by use of the media. No pope before him so actively cultivated mainstream approval, whether through symbolic gestures—washing the feet of Muslim refugees, taking public transport in Rome, or delivering sharp critiques of capitalism—or through carefully chosen soundbites that made global headlines. His media savvy allowed him to shape public perception of the Church in a way few of his predecessors could. However, this same talent also exposed him to contradictions. His willingness to speak on nearly every major global issue often meant his words were used to serve political agendas far removed from Catholic teaching.

Pope Francis’ reforms sought to make the Church more outward-looking and engaged with contemporary social issues, but they also risked turning the papacy into a tool of ideological enforcement. The balancing act between papal authority and episcopal collegiality remains unresolved. Francis’ successor will inherit a Church that is both more centralised in its governance and more fragmented in its beliefs. His most important task: rebuild trust and clarity.

Statement

Francis redefined the papacy for the media age, prioritising image over doctrine, unity over clarity, and using theological ambiguity in order to assert his authority. His emphasis on social justice made him a darling of the global elite, but at the cost of a fractured Church. Traditionalists grow in Europe, while evangelicals threaten Catholic dominance in Africa and South America. Persecuted Christians were often an afterthought, and the Church’s voice diluted by secular appeasement. Whatever faction Francis’s successor will belong to, he will have to focus on one thing: coherence.