The conferral of the title of “Doctor of the Church” on John Henry Newman (1801-1890) is one of the first theologically significant acts of Leo XIV’s papacy and has a symbolic value of some importance. For this reason, it must be noted. The title is a recognition of authority and an indication that the work of the “doctor” (who, before being declared as such, was recognized as a “saint”) is an important source of inspiration for Roman Catholicism.
The Roman Catholic Church recognizes 38 Doctors of the Church (including four women): from ancient and medieval fathers such as Augustine to Thomas Aquinas, from the anti-Protestant apologist Robert Bellarmine to the champion of Baroque Mariology, Alfonsus Liguori. The list of doctors reflects the catholicity of Rome: its desire to embrace the West and the East, theologians and mystics, antiquity and modernity. Roman Catholicism is a formidable religious aggregator, and its “doctors” are all pieces of its theological puzzle. The last doctor to be recognized was John Henry Newman. Why Newman?
Here are two possible reasons.
1. Newman was a “convert” from Anglicanism. In his youth, he had been an Anglican with some evangelical leanings. Then, studying the development of dogmas in his own way (in his essay The Development of Christian Doctrine [1845]), Newman concluded that Roman Catholicism (including the Council of Trent and Marian dogmas) was apostolic Christianity and that the Church of Rome was the true church. He later became a priest, a revered Catholic theologian, and a cardinal of the Holy Roman Church. His famous phrase has become one of the mantras of converts from Protestantism to Catholicism: “To be deep in history is to cease to be a Protestant.” It has to be said that Newman’s previous religious experience was never shaped around the two gospel pillars of the supreme authority of Scripture and justification by faith alone. Moreover, for all its apparent sophistication and subsequent success, his theory of the development of dogma assumes the infallibility of Rome rather than proving it.
Having said that, Newman’s biography embodies that of a convert to Roman Catholicism for whom Protestantism is theologically infantile and devoid of historical memory; Roman Catholicism, on the other hand, encompasses the fullness and richness of the faith. Many stories of conversion to Rome have found a model in Newman.
He is already considered the patron saint of Anglicans who became Roman Catholics. Now that he has been proclaimed a “doctor,” could it be because Leo XIV wants to present him as a model for Protestants of all sorts who are fascinated by the “great tradition” (e.g., the recent embrace of Anglicanism by theologian Matthew Barrett)?
Before Newman, Pope Francis had conferred the honorary title of “doctor” on Irenaeus of Lyon (b. 130). In doing so, Roman Catholicism appropriated a great Father of the church, also esteemed by evangelicals for his Trinitarian doctrine of creation. Now, with Newman as a “doctor,” Rome wants to point out the Roman Catholic way of reading the Fathers and delving into Tradition to those who flirt with it.
2. Newman is one of the main inspirations for the theology of Vatican II. Newman laid the foundations for a dynamic understanding of Tradition by promoting the perspective of Roman Catholicism as an organic and living whole. If in the 19th century neo-Thomist Catholicism risked being stuck in a closed and doctrinaire system, focused entirely on the defense of “Roman” institutions and practices, Newman introduced the category of “development” into Roman Catholic theology. This is part of the grammar of “updating” (aggiornamento) adopted by John XXIII in convening the Second Vatican Council (1962-1965) and then in the “renewal” that followed.
In fact, it is impossible to understand Roman Catholic theology today, pluralistic and changing, without referring (also) to Newman. Today, Roman Catholicism is not fixated on merely repeating the past, but has rediscovered the dynamic of inclusion, even of “reform,” while remaining committed to its unchanging nature. Because of his theology of “development,” Newman is unpopular with traditionalist Catholics (for example, the Society of St. Pius X).
However, he is not an exponent of “liberal” or “progressive” theology. It is no coincidence that it was Benedict XVI who beatified him in 2010, appreciating “his zeal for the renewal of ecclesial life in fidelity to the apostolic tradition.” For Newman, Roman Catholicism is the “authentic development” of Christianity, and it is this constant “development” that nourishes its life and activities.
By elevating Newman to “doctor” (among other things, it was Leo XIII who made him a cardinal), Leo XIV is fully in line with Vatican II, which updated the catholicity of the Church without losing sight of its Roman character.
For (at least) these two reasons, Leo XIV accomplished perhaps the most significant theological act of his early pontificate: in the wake of Vatican II, with an eye toward attracting non-Catholics, primarily restless Protestants, to Rome.
Whether there were 500,000 or more or less, it matters little because during the week of the Jubilee of Youth (July 28-August 3) Rome was filled with groups of young people from all over the world. Waving flags and wearing caps, these young people crossed the Holy Doors of Rome’s basilicas, participated in plenary events (above all, the vigil with Pope Leo XIV at Tor Vergata on August 2), national events (in various parishes), and went to confession at the Circus Maximus, etc. In short, they did what the Roman Catholic jubilee is all about: the pilgrimage to Rome and the devotional activities prescribed to obtain an indulgence. In addition, a memorable experience was organized for them.
One thing is certain: there is perhaps no other institution in the world capable of gathering half a million people from all over the world in one place for an entire week. The Roman Catholic Church has demonstrated that it is still capable of bringing together, organizing, and inspiring masses of young people and of “rejuvenating” its language, while always filling it with symbolic and evocative elements that are typical of its religious vision.
Beyond the folkloric and youth-oriented aspects, I followed three moments of the Jubilee of Youth in particular: the meetings of Roman Catholic influencers, the Italian and North American groups, and the final vigil with the Pope.
1. The first moment provided an insight into the world of Roman Catholic initiatives in the digital world: influencers, digital content creators, bloggers, etc., especially in Latin America (Mexico above all), but not only there. The Catholic Church is taking the digital challenge seriously and is seeing a flourishing of many online initiatives. Institutional initiatives (the official information channels of the Vatican and the dioceses) are only a small part of this: what is really thriving are the YouTube channels of lay people and religious figures who, using various languages and targeting different audiences, entertain, feed the religious imagination, and engage in Roman Catholic apologetics.
The speech by Pope Francis’ very influential spin doctor, Jesuit Antonio Spadaro, encapsulates the Catholic vision for the digital age. Using the metaphor of the “fire” that burns within, Spadaro outlined a digital presence of the Roman Catholic Church necessary to “humanize” the world, create dialogue, and foster unity. The digital presence must be made human: this is the mission indicated by Spadaro. It seems to echo, in different words, what Pope Francis said (even if the expression was Benedict XVI’s), namely that the Church grows by attraction, not by proselytism. The Catholic approach must be soft, focusing on commonalities and non-confrontational. There is a noticeable difference between Spadaro’s humanistic, pan-religious, and “Catholic” approach and that of many North American Catholic apologists, who are instead polemical and controversial, I would say “Roman.” I will return to this difference in posture and language later.
2. As already mentioned, the Jubilee of Youth was attended by hundreds of groups from many countries. The Italian group was the largest. It had a significant meeting during the Mass on July 31, where Cardinal Matteo Zuppi gave the homily. In it, the usual words of Italian Catholicism since the time of Pope Francis resounded: “everyone, everyone, everyone is included,” peace, no to weapons, friendship. Occasionally there was a reference to Christ, but outside the biblical context and the Gospel message. It was yet another humanistic approach in line with Spadaro’s speech to influencers.
The tone was different among the group of young North American Catholics. At the meeting held in the Basilica of St. Paul Outside the Walls, the experiential language used was evangelical in tone, and the songs (accompanied by guitar and keyboard) could have been sung at an evangelical gathering. Intertwined with these “personal” traits, to which European Catholics are unaccustomed, were the typical markers of Roman Catholic identity: Marian accents, saints, and the Eucharist. The speech by Bishop Robert Barron was emblematic. Barron is a star in the US Catholic online world, as well as a shrewd theologian. In his speech, Barron spoke of “Christ the Lord” using terms that the best evangelical pastor would have been pleased. But then he spoke with great pride, almost with arrogance, of the Roman Catholic Church as the only human organization to have survived throughout history, and of the pope as the only uninterrupted successor of Peter (and Christ). He then urged the youth to encounter Christ in the Eucharist of the Catholic Church and the figure of the pope. Here, the European humanist Roman Catholicism (with its slogans: “we are all included,” “let us love one another,” “let us bring hope to a world at war”) took a back seat. What prevailed was an evangelical-like, yet deeply Roman, language of North American Catholicism.
This is to say that Roman Catholicism speaks different languages with varying religious tones: depending on the context in which it operates, it is able to adapt its message accordingly. In Europe, it resembles that of pacifists and multicultural humanism. In the US, it resembles that of an evangelical denomination. In both cases, the Roman Catholic soul is the standard matrix that shapes everything. The Jubilee of Youth was a stage on which the Roman Catholic Church was at work, speaking her language with different codes and accents.
3. The highlight of the Jubilee of Youth was the prayer vigil with Pope Leo XIV in Tor Vergata. Some reports claim that a million people were present. In the afternoon, a non-stop concert featuring musicians and bands from the international Catholic scene took place. In the evening, the Pope was asked three questions: about friendship, life choices, and how to meet Christ. Regarding the first question, Leo stated that we already have Christ as our friend, assuming that this is a universal condition acquired through baptism. He did not speak of repentance and faith in Jesus Christ, nor did he emphasize the need to reject idols. Regarding the second question, there was noticeable pressure on young people to consider the priestly and religious vocation, perhaps motivated by the fact that the number of priests, friars, and nuns is declining. On the third point, he insisted that Christ is encountered and worshipped in the Eucharist administered by the (Catholic) Church. In his answers, the pope quoted, among others, Augustine, John Paul II, Benedict XVI, and Francis, but there was no intentional invitation to read Scripture.
To summarize, the papal message of the vigil was: “Christ is already in us (through baptism), let us meet him in the Catholic Church where he is truly present (in the Eucharist). For the rest, let us develop our common humanity with all.” While there are some elements taken from the Gospel, their meaning, their combination, the heart of the discourse was Roman Catholic, but not gospel-centered.
Young people were told that Christ is already in them, not received by faith but by a sacrament; that Christ is also in everyone, not because of adherence to the Gospel, but because of a shared humanity; that Christ is present, not in the biblical Word, but in the Eucharist; that they are missionaries, not to witness repentance from sins and faith in Jesus Christ, but to meet their neighbors and develop universal fraternity. It is difficult to imagine that this message would challenge anyone. Everyone feels reinforced in their own way in what they already are: believers, non-believers, and those with differing beliefs; if anything, they are attracted to the Roman Catholic Church, which encompasses everyone. This is the Roman Catholic gospel. Is it the biblical gospel?
For now, it is possible to move by clues and traces that need to be collected and interpreted. On the geopolitical front, the magazine Limes has tried to draw a conceptual map for what lies ahead for Pope Leo. The Roman Catholic Church, with the Vatican at its center, is also a player on the global chessboard; it represents 1.4 billion people (18% of the world’s population), has diplomatic relations with most countries, and has a say in the main documentation of global politics. It is not surprising that a geopolitical magazine dedicated an entire issue to it: The Puzzle of Pope Leo, Limes (5/2025).
The starting point is precisely the choice of the word “puzzle,” i.e. a picture to be guessed from the few available elements. Here are some suggestions from the various articles, many coming from political scientists, journalists, and (a few) theologians of moderate progressive culture, with the exception of R. Reno, editor of the conservative American magazine First Things.
First, the person of the pope is bearer of unusual traits: a “Latin Yankee,” a “Pan-American” man, a Euro-American, a personality with a “hybrid” cultural identity and a calm and determined character. A “lion” among other global lions (e.g. Trump, Putin, Xi Jinping). A son of the Fourth Rome (the USA) on the throne of the First Rome in a world where overall balances are being redefined in the presence of wars and threats of war. The initial impression is that, after the geopolitical shuffling of cards by Francis (who appeared hostile to Ukraine and Israel, subject of China, and emotionally distant from the US and Europe), Leo brings the boat of Peter to sail in the direction of the Atlanticism that was of John Paul II, slender towards the West and skeptical about the still “far” East (e.g. China). It is true that there would have been no Leo XIV without Francis, but the current pope is not a replica of the previous in the geopolitical positioning of the Church of Rome.
The choice of the name Leo is another clue that many observers focus on. Leo XIII, the predecessor in choosing the name, wrote the encyclical “Rerum Novarum” (1891), which opened the Catholic Church to the social question and living conditions of workers. Leo XIII inaugurated the era of the Social Doctrine of the Catholic Church. The analysts of Limes read in Prevost’s choice to call himself Leo the commitment to address the social issue par excellence of this generation: artificial intelligence (AI). There are already signs in this direction, but many expect an encyclical (i.e. the highest authoritative document by a Pope) dedicated to AI, believing that the Roman Catholic Church is the only global moral agency able to subvert the exclusive interests of the war industry and the techno-globalist powers.
Another piece of the Leo puzzle is its relationship with the USA and North American Catholicism. As is well known, Francis was not loved by a consistent part of American Catholics, and financial support for Rome’s budget has decreased significantly over the years, also due to American disaffection with Pope Francis. Now, Leo is asked to sew up the tear and restart the donations that the Catholic Church desperately needs for its bleeding budgets. Then there is the relationship with the US Administration, especially with the “catholic” vice president, J.D. Vance, who interprets a conservative Catholicism but is not exactly deferential towards ecclesiastical authorities. Soon after his election, there has been no lack of opportunities for polemics between Vance and the Vatican on migration policy and also on the interpretation of the ordo amoris, i.e. the differentiated responsibilities of Roman Catholic action. Leo XIV faces the challenge of resetting and re-establishing relationships, keeping together the legacy of Francis and the American Catholic system.
A final consideration needs to address the relationship with Protestantism, although limited to the US context. Many of the geopolitical issues at stake involve “ecumenical” relations with the Orthodox patriarchates of Moscow and Kiev, or inter-religious relations such as those with the Jewish world. But what about Protestantism? Many observers (by the way, all Catholic, some practicing, most nominal) note the state of “crisis” of American Protestantism: polarized, jagged, angry, flattened with or against Trump, under the shadow cone of politics rather than living in its own light. The crisis also has to do with the nationalist culture that, for them, is a child of Protestant individualism. In their view, in the fractured context of North American society, Catholic communitarianism (i.e. the Catholic insistence that human life is life-in-community in the context of the Catholic Church) would be better equipped than Protestant individualism to offer a prospect not only of economic wealth but also of social welfare. In this sense, “Rome alone” would be able to build a third way between the woke culture of the left and the nationalism of individualistic conservatism. There is an expectation that Pope Leo will be able to exert an attraction from Protestantism towards Roman Catholicism in American society. Evangelicals should be aware of these trends and consider Rome as a spiritual competitor rather than an ally, due to her different account of the gospel from the biblical one.
These analyses are not theological and do not grasp central elements of the papacy as an ecclesiastical institution which is based on doctrinal commitments. In this sense, they only grasp the “political” side of Rome but not her theological vision. However, they can help start to put together the pieces of the beginning of this pontificate puzzle.
The recent death of Pope Francis and the subsequent election of Leo XIV to the papal throne have reignited media interest in the papacy. Beyond the attention given to the personalities of individual Popes, what is the office of the Pope? What are his prerogatives according to the Roman Catholic Church? How does this institution fit into the global world and in the ecumenical relationships outside of Rome?
These questions are all considered in the newly released study document by the Vatican Dicastery for Promoting Christian Unity: “The Bishop of Rome. Primacy and Sinodality in the Ecumenical Dialogues and in the Responses to the Encyclical Ut Unum Sint” (2024; henceforth BoR). The 170 page text surveys the ongoing ecumenical dialogue concerning the role of the Pope and the exercise of the Petrine Ministry. Its remote context is the invitation made by Pope John Paul II exactly thirty years ago. In fact, in his 1995 encyclical “Ut Unum Sint,” the then Pope asked Church leaders and theologians “to find a way of exercising the primacy which, while in no way renouncing what is essential to its mission, is nonetheless open to a new situation” (n. 95).
On the one hand, in John Paul II’s view, the papacy was to be maintained in its essentials; on the other, it was presented as open and willing to rethink itself in fresh and accepted ways. Almost twenty years later, Francis spoke of his desire to see a “pastoral conversion” of the papacy (The Joy of the Gospel, 2013, n. 32) that would make it at the service of the whole of Christianity, indeed the whole world. Among other things, his insistence on referring to himself as “the Bishop of Rome,” rather than with other titles claiming universal authority, was a way to encourage such a process of acceptance.
The document brings together the fruits of the ecumenical dialogues on the ministry of the Pope in response to the invitation by John Paul II. It is not a synthesis of Roman Catholic teaching on the papacy, but rather a summary of the discussion generated by Ut Unun Sint, as expressed in 30 official responses and 50 documents that reference it. Its goal is to seek a form of the exercise of the papacy that is shared by all churches that participate in the ecumenical movement with the Roman Catholic Church, e.g. Eastern Orthodox, Oriental, Anglican, and historic Protestant.
BoR provides a state-of-the-art document where one can find important indications of the evolution of the papacy, with some insights on possible future outlooks. Here are some interesting findings.[1]
Infallibility? Since its definition, the 1870 Roman Catholic dogma of papal infallibility has been a stumbling block between Rome and the other churches, on both sides of the East-West divide. As it was formulated then, this prerogative of the Pope simply could not be accepted by non-Catholics. However, BR suggests a way forward.
As far as the hermeneutics of Vatican I is concerned, it has become an accepted ecumenical principle to interpret it in the light of Vatican II (nn. 61 and 66) and therefore placing infallibility in the wider context of Vatican II ecclesiology. The latter stressed the collegiality of bishops (the Pope being one of them and never to be considered in isolation from them) and recognized a more active role for the laity in the life of the church. Vatican II’s ecclesiology underlines “communion” and considers the Pope as part of it. The infallibility promulgated at Vatican I should be “re-received” (n. 145), i.e. re-interpreted, against the background of Vatican II.
Then, BoR distinguishes between the text of the dogma of infallibility and its intention. The former may seem overly juridical and authoritarian, but the intention was to protect and serve the indefectibility of the whole Church (n. 70). This is a concern that can be shared by all ecumenical Christians. If Vatican I can be interpreted in this way, even non-Catholics may be prepared “to acknowledge papacy as a legitimate expression of the Petrine ministry of unity” (n. 73).
A Ministry of Unity in A Reunited Church “Is a primacy for the whole Church necessary?” is the question that opens paragraph 75. Many ecumenical dialogues have recognized the need for it for three reasons.
First, the apostolic tradition. From the 4th century and definitely so from the 7th century, the See of Rome was considered “the first in the hierarchy” (n. 76), although, as already noted in an earlier section, this primacy is due to political reasons and not biblical ones. Rome was the capital of the empire, and the bishop of Rome began to be seen as presiding over the others because of the importance of the city of Rome in the Roman Empire (n. 78).
Second, the ecclesiological argument. For those churches that have an episcopalian form of government (i.e. led by a bishop), it is obvious that what happens at the local level should happen at the universal level. In other words, if a bishop is given authority over a local diocese, it is appropriate that the world as a whole has a bishop ruling over it.
Third, a pragmatic argument. Many churches readily admit “the need for global instruments of communion” (n. 84) that are capable of resolving conflicts between local churches and representing them before the global world. Some dialogues have also argued that the ministry of unity granted by the papal office would also serve a reinvigorated, common mission (n. 86).
Looking back at the history of the development of the papacy, BoR recalls what Joseph Ratzinger wrote in 1982, i.e. “Rome must not require more of the East than was formulated and lived during the first millennium” (n. 91). This is in line with John Paul II’s openness to change without altering the essentials of the papacy. Moreover, in the first millennium, “communion” was lived out in primarily informal ways, rather than being carried out within “clear structures” (n. 93). The authority of the Roman Pope was mainly characterized by a “primacy of honour” (n. 94).
How to overcome the gap between the primacy of honour (ecumenically acceptable by the East) and the primacy of jurisdiction (as it was developed in the second millennium by the Roman Catholic Church) remains an open question (n. 98). The way forward is to see how the “communal” (all,i.e. Christians), collegial (some, i.e. the bishops) and personal (one, i.e. the Pope) dimensions of church life interplay (n. 116) and find ways that are compatible with the different traditions. What BoR bears witness to is the reality that all ecumenical partners are willing to engage the issue constructively.
Three Key Steps for the Ecumenical Future of the Papacy After surveying the main contents of BoR, it is time to look at the document within the broader context of the present-day ecumenical setting and to try to become acquainted with its theological narrative. According to the fruits of the ecumenical dialogue gathered in the document, the Papacy will have a future as a world-wide, religious institution at the service of the reunited Church. None of the ecumenical partners questions this prospect. It is a matter of how and when, not if and why. Gone are the times when, from both East and West, the Roman Catholic Papacy was seen as a non-biblical, insurmountable stumbling block that needed to be removed. It seems that if one wants to be “ecumenical” today, she needs to come to terms with a slightly modified Papacy in terms of its attitudes and titles, but with no change as far as the theological substance is concerned.
In order to appraise what is at stake, one needs to appreciate the trajectory that the Roman Catholic Church has been able to influence over the last 60 years since the Second Ecumenical Council (1962-1965). Here are three important steps that have given shape to the ecumenical framework behind BoR:
1. “Complementary,” no longer “conflicting” It was the 1964 Vatican II document on ecumenism that said: “these various theological expressions (e.g. those of the Eastern churches) are to be considered often as mutually complementary rather than conflicting” (Vatican II, Unitatis Redintegratio, 1964, n. 17). The principle of complementarity and compatibility was extended to all doctrinal matters. Ecumenical theology sees all differences as belonging to the same reality that is accessible from various angles and interpreted as mutually enriching rather than mutually exclusive. This has become the premise of present-day ecumenism.
Among other things, this means that the evangelical recovery of the gospel captured in the “Christ alone,” “Scripture alone,” and “Faith alone” of the Protestant Reformation is now seen as an “emphasis” to be integrated in the Roman Catholic whole, rather expressing the Christian faith in opposition to the Roman Catholic flawed account of the gospel. The papacy is no longer seen as an institution at the center of a theological conflict, but as an essential part of the Church, in which complementary views are possible and accepted.
2. From “differentiated consensus” to “differentiated exercise” In 1999, the Roman Catholic Church and the Lutheran World Federation signed the “Joint Declaration on the Doctrine of Justification” (JDDJ), one of the dividing doctrines in the 16th century. JDDJ claims that the document “encompasses a consensus in the basic truths; the differing explications in particular statements are compatible with it” (JDDJ, n. 14). This approach was later defined as “differentiated consensus”: Catholics and Lutherans can agree on the basics of justification and maintain their respective emphases as compatibile. The “differentiated consensus” was later used to foster ecumenical dialogue that would consider doctrines as made of modular units (some of which people can agree upon while disagreeing on others), instead of treating them as aspects of an integrated whole.
Now, BoR shows that the same approach is extended to the Papacy. It involves a “differentiated exercise of the jurisdiction of the Bishop of Rome” (n. 150), spanning from full jurisdiction (the Roman Catholic Church), to “primacy of honour” (Anglican, Oriental and Orthodox churches), to a global leadership role (historic Protestant churches). Ecumenical partners will have the possibility of accessing a “differentiated exercise” of it, picking the aspects they like and leaving aside those they are less happy with. The Papacy will remain for all, although it may look somewhat different from its Roman-second millennium outlook and perhaps closer to its first millennium shape.
3. Open to change, not renouncing the Roman Catholic “essentials” Now we can see that the invitation given by John Paul II in 1995 was not out of context; on the contrary, it was a reflection of the ecumenical mindset already affirmed at Vatican II and a further development of it. The rules of the game suggested by John Paul II (i.e. open to minor changes, carrying on the essentials) were accepted and are now considered as the shared consensus of the ecumenical movement.
BoR stands on the shoulders of the post-Vatican II attempts made by Rome to call all Christians to be united, overcoming past divisions, seeing all traditions as complementary, and building this unity on differentiated consensus. The other side of the coin is that Rome will at the same time stick to the “essentials” as they are embedded in its doctrinal system – the Papacy being one of them.
The ecumenical unity envisaged by BoR will have the Roman Pope at the center: in a sense, the Roman Catholic business as usual, now updated and conformed to the ecumenical age. BoR is the latest example of the Catholic absorption of different ideas and former opponents, provided they accept that Rome will not change its foundational theological committments that are outside or against biblical teaching, and will instead further expand its synthesis that goes beyond gospel boundaries. Biblical Christianity is not an appeased sub-section of Roman Catholicism but a gospel alternative to a system that is not grounded on Scripture Alone as its ultimate authority and on Faith Alone as to how salvation is to be received.
[1] Reference to sections of the document will appear in parentheses.
A prominent Roman Catholic theologian, Matthew Levering, recently wrote a book entitled Why I Am Roman Catholic (2024). As a result, it was to be expected that a Protestant author would write a mirror book on why not. It is the case with Jerry L. Walls, Why I Am Not a Roman Catholic. A Friendly, Ecumenical Exploration (Eugene, OR: Cascade Books, 2025), professor of philosophy at Houston Christian University. Actually, Walls did not read Levering’s book beforehand and perhaps wasn’t even aware of it, but it doesn’t really matter. Books and digital resources in the intersection between the Roman Catholic-Protestant divide are mushrooming, and defending why and why not one is Roman Catholic or Protestant is becoming a literary genre in itself.
Each book has a story behind it. Walls recalls his. He tells how he participated in different informal dialogues with influential Roman Catholic scholars and theologians, only later realizing that these initiatives were aimed at encouraging conversions to Rome. Reflecting on these experiences and others led him to further clarify why he was not a Roman Catholic, also thinking of the growing number of former evangelicals who have converted to Rome in recent years under the influence of aggressive RC apologists who oftentimes use “dubious reasons, spurious arguments, and misinformation” (xvi). Walls’s book, therefore, has an apologetic thrust, even though he readily qualifies it in terms of the subtitle: while critical of Roman Catholicism, he wants to write in a friendly and ecumenical way.
Walls is not new in this field. Together with Kenneth Collins, a few years ago, he penned the more substantial tome Roman but Not Catholic: What Remains at Stake 500 Years after the Reformation (2017; my review of the book is here). There, he critiqued Rome for having lost its catholicity (i.e. biblical universality) at the expense and on the altar of its Roman-centered claims. This new book reiterates the same basic critique but adds a new flavor to it.
So, why is Walls not a Roman Catholic? Briefly stated: because he rejects both papal infallibility and the Marian doctrines, two doctrinal tenets of the Roman Catholic Church to which Rome has given dogmatic status, something “analogous to the role of the resurrection of Jesus in classic creedal orthodoxy” (8). The book is a sustained critique of the Roman claims regarding the papacy and Mariology.
As far as the papacy is concerned, Walls takes issue with the dogma of papal infallibility. This papal doctrine is a distillation of Catholic doctrine, yet it is based on faulty history and has generated excessive claims. In sum, Peter was not the first pope, and there was no monarchical bishop in Rome up to the end of the second century. Moreover, as far as the political role associated with Rome is concerned, “Roman authority rested in no small part on the fact that it had been the capital city, not on an irrevocable conferral of authority by Christ” (25). Walls’s argument moves on by highlighting the terrible record of the lives of many popes across history, many of whom were corrupted and “very bad men” (31). To prove the point, he provides a gallery of impious popes who were involved in perverse politics and immoral affairs, thus showing how the historical records are another factor that undermines the dogma. There is no biblical support for the claim that Peter is the first Pope (Walls discusses some exegetical points in Matthew 16 in the Appendix, pp. 181-185), no historical witness up to the end of the second century to back up the role of the bishop of Rome, no spiritual motivations behind his authority other than the political significance of Rome as the capital of the empire. After quoting and discussing a plethora of Roman Catholic scholars providing contrary evidence to the Catholic claims, Walls argues that papal infallibility lies on too poor foundations to be a binding belief for Christians.
Moving to the Marian claims, Walls exposes the “Marian maximalism” that led Rome to dogmatize Mary, e.g. the 1854 dogma of the immaculate conception and the 1950 dogma of the bodily assumption, and is still brewing in the prospect of proclaiming her “co-redeemer” (87). His conclusions are trenchant: “Popular Marian piety in Roman Catholicism has morphed into infallible dogmas that make Mary far more central to the faith than scripture warrants” (100).
After presenting his two main objections to the Roman Catholic Church, Walls deals with apologetic arguments often put forward by popular defenders of the Roman Catholic faith over against Protestants. Oftentimes, we hear the rehearsed saying that if one refuses the authority of the Church of Rome, she becomes her own pope following an individualistic religious path. Although this is a possibility and a danger, the “You are your own pope” type of argument is a caricature of Protestantism. The evangelical faith has historically affirmed the apostolic authority of Scripture, at the same time recognizing degrees of authority in councils and creeds and leaving room for disagreement on secondary issues.
Approaching dialogue in fairness and charity is a constant point made by Walls. In an interesting chapter, he observes that some North American popular Roman Catholic apologists depict Protestantism in straw-man terms, often “comparing the best of Rome with the worst of Protestantism” (148) and presenting Rome as “the panacea for all ills” (150). To disillusioned evangelicals who are enticed and enchanted by these poor apologetic and golden portraits of Rome, Walls urges them “to resist the Roman fever and to think twice before taking the Tiber plunge” (152).
The reality is that Rome is not the solid, stable, and unified bullwark that some of its defenders paint it to be. If one only scratches the surface, he can find all types of Catholics (e.g. traditional, cultural, liberal) and all kinds of beliefs and practices in Rome. Indeed, because of their lax views on morality and doctrine, “most Roman Catholics are functional liberal Protestants” (157) because they do not endorse, let alone practice, what their Church teaches them. Walls goes as far as to say that Rome is “a church that is functionally a radically pluralist Protestant denomination” (171) with factions that stand on very different sides, even fighting one another. Compared to it, Evangelical Protestantism in all its denominational diversity is “a far more impressive model of true unity” (171).
The final chapter sums up Walls’s main argument, which is also found in the more extensive 2017 book written with Kenneth Collins. Here it is: Roman Catholicism is not the best form of Catholic Christianity. Actually, it is a “constricted view of catholicity” (179) because it is founded on a “rickety biblical and historical foundation” and is also “rotten in many places because of its recurrent corruption” (179). With Walls being one of the promoters of the 2017 “A Reforming Catholic Confession”, “Reformed catholicity” or “mere Protestant orthodoxy,” or whatever you want to call it, is for him a far better version of the Christian faith (xvii).
Walls’s book is full of fine and well presented apologetic points. Especially his critical remarks on the papacy and the lack of biblical and historical foundations as far as the first two centuries of the church are well argued for. The book also signals a growing awareness in North American evangelical circles that Roman Catholicism is a “competitor” that is gaining strength and making some inroads among disillusioned evangelicals. After years of evangelicals trying to show how much we have “in common” with Catholics (e.g. the “Evangelicals and Catholics Together” initiative) and, more recently, how the “Great Tradition” is our shared platform, it is refreshing to see evangelical scholars engaging Roman Catholicism apologetically, kindly and firmly refuting some of its foundational claims and hinting at far better biblical alternatives.
The book is a helpful resource for evangelicals tempted to convert to Rome and to Roman Catholics attracted to the evangelical faith. More work has to be done to present Roman Catholicism as a fully orbed doctrinal/institutional/sacramental/hierarchical “system” that is not committed to the supreme authority of Scripture (Scripture Alone) and to salvation as a gift of God grounded in the finished work of Christ (Faith Alone). While using similar languages and categories, the pillars of the Roman Catholic Church are different from the biblical account of the gospel that the evangelical faith seeks to bear witness to.
The Roman Catholic version of the gospel, based on the self-referential authority of the Roman Church and the blurred and distorted message it gives voice to, is a sufficient reason not to embrace the Roman Catholic faith but to stick to the once and for all given “evangel” (good news) of Jesus Christ.
