256. “Letter to Catholic Theologians.” I Am Not One of Them, But I Read it

I am not a Roman Catholic theologian, and so this letter is not addressed to me. As an Evangelical theologian, however, I am seriously engaged in trying to understand Roman Catholic theology, and so this letter interests me. I am referring to the Letter to Catholic Theologians (2026) by Monsignor Antonio Staglianò.
 
Bishop Staglianò is no ordinary voice in the landscape of contemporary Roman Catholic theology. He is, in fact, the president of the Pontifical Academy of Theology (PATH), whose mission is to promote dialogue between faith and reason and to deepen Christian doctrine following the indications of the Pope. 
 
Staglianò is also the author of books with titles as explosive as Pop-Christology or as evocative as Theology on One’s Knees (all titles are in Italian). He is a masterful orator who likes to quote Kant, Heidegger, and Hölderlin, and makes constant references to quantum physics and the ever-expanding frontiers of AI. During his years as bishop of Noto (Sicily), he attracted some attention for the pop culture references (songs, movies, etc.) that found their way into his homilies, shaped around what he called “pop theology.” In short, despite holding an institutional papal position, Staglianò is anything but a conventional thinker.

In this Letter, Staglianò summarizes what he has written extensively about in recent books and condenses it here into a few pages. It concerns his proposal to embrace what he calls “Christic Enlightenment” to overcome the dictatorship of the “Enlightenment Metaverse” and give theology a place in public debate and in people’s lives. His language may seem esoteric, but it is explained.
 
Staglianò begins with his interpretation of the current reality: Our age is no longer merely a time of secularization (positive, because it acknowledges pluralism), nor is it a time of secularism (negative, because it is ideological and antithetical to religions). We are in an era of de-Christianization, of de-culturalization, in which the symbols, beliefs, practices, and lived experiences of faith are being displaced and replaced by the blind algorithms of technology.
 
At the heart of the present-day crisis lies the loss of credibility of Christian Revelation, which is not considered worthy of being taken seriously; indeed, it is perceived as backward in thought and antagonistic to individual freedom. At best, it is relegated to the private sphere of belief but not to that of knowledge, which is the field of scientific reason only. The weight of the Christian narrative has evaporated.

For Staglianò, this cluster of oppositions to Christianity is called the “Enlightenment Metaverse”: a closed system of thought that denies Revelation and defies the knowledge of the faith it appeals to. According to Enlightenment dogma, “faith believes and does not know; reason knows and does not believe” (27).
 
In this context, there is no place for theology in public discourse; at best, it can aspire to cultivate a niche, secondary historical interest, without any epistemological claims beyond its own parched little garden. Indeed, for Martin Heidegger, the believer is incapable of thinking and must therefore step outside the modus credendi (i.e., the believing mood) if he is to be considered a voice worthy of being heard.
 
After his assessment of today’s challenge, here begins Staglianò’s pars construens. The “Enlightenment Metaverse” should not be countered by an impossible return to pre-modernity or a nostalgic recovery of Tradition (as Roman Catholic traditionalists would have it). The proposal is to usher in the era of “Christic Enlightenment.” Instead of playing defense, theology must move forward to overcome the Enlightenment challenge, i.e., by proposing an even greater and more demanding Enlightenment. “Christic” does not mean Christ-centered or Bible-focused. In Staglianò’s language, the allusion to Christ in “Christic” means greater, deeper, and wider than the Enlightenment project.

How? By practicing transdisciplinarity (thus becoming literate in the various languages and codes of knowledge), engaging in dialogue with everyone on the basis that everything is theion (divine), and developing the capacity for analogical imagination that can fertilize different categories (for example: the dual nature of Christ and the wave-particle complementarity of quantum mechanics). In doing so, an “unlimited space” (33) opens up in which theology rediscovers its public vocation and its epistemic power.
 
Staglianò claims to find inspiration from the intellectual lineage that stretches from Augustine, through Thomas Aquinas, and culminates in the 19th-century Roman Catholic theologian and philosopher Antonio Rosmini (38).
 
There are at least a couple of points that, upon reading the “Letter,” an Evangelical reader might suggest by way of commentary.
 
The first is that Staglianò’s reading of the “Enlightenment Metaverse” appears to be heavily influenced by the militant atheism of Richard Dawkins and Christopher Hitchens in Great Britain of the 1990s, which is now outdated. Not that the mainstream scientific community today is favorable toward theology or religions in general, but it no longer seems as oppositional and confrontational as Staglianò portrays it. Dawkins himself is favorable to “cultural Christianity,” which is considered a bulwark against hyper-technological nihilism and totalitarian Islam.

This is to say that the cultural dominance of the “Enlightenment Metaverse” is less evident, and its relationship with theology is more nuanced than the way Staglianò describes it.
 
The second point is that, however much it is expressed in lively, pop-culture language, Staglianò’s theological framework is the old Thomism rejuvenated by John Paul II in the encyclical Fides et Ratio (1998). According to this, faith takes on reason and science and elevates them by expanding their scope. It is the old Thomist project of integrating Aristotelianism and Christianity that Staglianò would now like to apply to scientism. As Thomas synthesized Aristotle and Christ, so Staglianò wants to befriend the Enlightenment and Christ.

This Thomist approach assumes the neutrality of reason and science and the possibility for them to be elevated to a superior level.
 
Staglianò rightly acknowledges that men and women are “religious beings”: The relationship with God, however much it may be denied or opposed, cannot be suppressed. This said, after the Fall, all of humanity is “broken” and corrupt, with no possibility of self-redemption. For this reason, reason must not simply be elevated or refined (i.e., the Thomist project), but radically redeemed by Christ (i.e., the Gospel mandate). Thus, the overall framework is not “nature-grace,” as Thomas and Staglianò would say, but “creation/Fall/redemption,” as the Bible teaches.
 
It seems, then, that Staglianò’s “Christic Enlightenment” is the latest version of the Thomist attempt to absorb reason and science into the Roman Catholic synthesis, without actually reforming much. A more promising path is to recognize Christ’s lordship over all reality (reason and science included), to take every thought captive to Christ according to Scripture (2 Corinthians 10:5), and to commit ourselves to the renewal of the mind (Romans 12:1-2).

Share Button

255. A Year with Pope Leo. Evangelical Impressions

A gentle yet tough pope? A pope all about peace and dialogue? It is still too early to settle on a definitive assessment of Pope Leo XIV’s papacy. One year after his election (8th May 2025), however, it is possible to discern some key themes that confirm what was already evident at the start of his pontificate.

The global geopolitical landscape
Over the past year, the American pope has assumed a prominent “political” role on the global stage. It was predictable that the clash with Trump would erupt sooner or later, given the president’s combative temperament. And so it did. Preceded by Leo’s criticism of the handling of the deportation of undocumented migrants, the conflict with the U.S. administration erupted over the war in Iran. Trump has repeatedly criticized the pope, and the pope has responded in kind.

From someone like Trump, this was to be expected; less predictable was Leo’s decision not to rely on the soft-spoken ways of Vatican diplomacy, but to use direct communication to respond blow for blow. A talkative and casual pope like Francis used to make “free-wheeling” and sometimes unrestrained comments on current events; the surprise was that Pope Leo, too—despite his reserved and controlled nature—chose the unfiltered, “open-mic” approach to speak his mind.

In fact, for months now, the Trump vs Leo dynamic has dominated the global political narrative, casting the pope as Trump’s ultimate opponent in the name of “peace.” The gain in popularity, even among secular audiences, has been evident: in a world at war, who is against peace?

Meanwhile, with his trips to Turkey, Lebanon, and Africa, Pope Leo has confirmed contemporary Catholicism’s focus on the Global South, where the Roman Catholic Church is grappling with Islam and with growing evangelical churches. Following in Francis’s footsteps, he confirmed the offer of “dialogue” to the former and highlighted the bizzarre nature of the latter, while simultaneously emphasizing “Catholic” superiority.

The internal peacemaking line
Even within the Roman Catholic Church, Leo has acted in line with the reasons that led the conclave to elect him pope. Francis had left behind a church rife with internal conflicts and with the issue of “synodality” left confusingly unresolved. In this first year of his pontificate, Leo has not fanned the flames of division, but has sought to tone down the rhetoric, calm tempers, and maneuver in search of compromises.

With Catholic Germany calling for changes regarding the recognition of same-sex unions, he has maintained a firm stance without breaking with the more progressive factions. On the subject of synodality, he has tempered the zeal of the most ardent supporters, but has not dampened their enthusiasm. Regarding appointments to top positions in the Church, he has not yet made any radical or groundbreaking decisions, preferring to let the situation settle.

In short, on the domestic front, Leo has proven himself to be a seasoned and experienced political figure; a bridge-builder seeking to preserve the “integrity” of Roman Catholicism in the face of tensions, rather than a “prophet” heralding change or a “defender” of the status quo.

The ecumenical approach and relations with Evangelicals
In his first year of pontificate, Leo placed great importance on the ecumenical significance of the celebrations of the Council of Nicaea. He paid particular attention to the world of Eastern Orthodoxy and the Oriental Churches, with which the Pope’s Catholicism feels a growing affinity. Beyond institutional courtesy, he has been more reserved toward the liberal and ecumenical Protestant world. Proof of this is the bureaucratic reception he gave the Archbishop of Canterbury during her visit to Rome. The impression is that Leo’s ecumenical agenda looks more to the East (Orthodoxy) and to the South (Islam) than to the West (the traditional ecumenical world).

And what about the Evangelicals? They do not seem to be on Pope Leo’s radar, aside from a few indirect critical remarks between the lines of his speeches in Cameroon and Angola. Even during his previous tenure as bishop in Peru, he showed no particular interest in the Evangelicals. On the other hand, evangelicals around the world do not yet seem to have taken the measure of him. Unlike Francis, who boasted many evangelical friends in Argentina and beyond, Leo has not cultivated such relationships, with the result that the evangelical world remains distant and remote to him.

Meanwhile, his thinking, as expressed in his daily addresses, weaves together Augustinian themes (peace, grace, the Catholic experience), profound Mariology, and traditional Catholic teachings. His theological framework appears to be a Catholic Augustinianism reimagined from a post-Vatican II perspective.

Share Button