Twenty-eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time, October 11, 2026
I write this bulletin column from Rome. I am in year two of a six year appointment to a Capuchin commission that meets once each year in Rome to make recommendations about funding Capuchin projects in developing countries. It is a privilege for me to be asked to serve in this way. There are zoom meetings throughout the year and one annual week long meeting in Rome in October. That's why I am in Rome this week.
Being in Rome makes me think of the universal Catholic Church, the Pope and the Church's authority. When we say the Creed, we say that we believe in the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. We also say that we believe "in One, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic Church". We believe "in" God-Father, Son and Spirit. And we believe "in" the Church. Catholics believe that Jesus left behind a living Church to interpret for all time the Holy Spirit's desires for the church.
But the idea of trusting a Church led by fallible humans can be hard for people to accept. We live in an age increasingly suspicious of objective truth and universal moral authority. In a culture shaped by postmodern thinking, truth can become intensely personal—something determined less by what is true than by what I believe to be true. Social media has amplified this tendency, giving everyone a platform, an audience and, sometimes, the illusion that every opinion carries equal authority.
Yet the crisis of truth has also become a crisis of authority. The Church, too, now faces a question that increasingly defines our age: Who has the authority to tell me what is true?
The crisis of authority, intensified by growing polarization, has not remained outside the Church. Cafeteria Catholicism—the tendency to accept some teachings of the Church while setting aside those that challenge us—has become another expression of the wider culture of individual choice. Catholics can find themselves constructing a personal version of the faith, embracing what fits their convictions while quietly dismissing what does not.
Political labels left, right, liberal, conservative, progressive, traditionalist—have increasingly found their way into Catholic conversations. There is also a danger when we begin to look at the living Church through the same political lens. A pope becomes "progressive" or "conservative"; a teaching is welcomed because it appears to support our political position and dismissed when it does not.
But Catholicism cannot be reduced to a political ideology. The question is not whether a teaching is "left-wing" or "right-wing." The question is whether it belongs to the faith of the Church.
Similarly social media has intensified the problem. Today Catholics are increasingly exposed to commentators, bloggers and online personalities who can become trusted authorities in their own right. A compelling video or confident sensationalized opinion can sometimes carry more weight than the actual teaching of the Church. Some online commentators, even some who claim to be faithful Catholics, are full of sarcasm and vitriol when they consider the teachings of the Pope or Bishops, hardly the attitude of a true Catholic! It is sad that politics replaces religion for some people, that political parties and ideology become the rock of people's lives.
The Church's teachings are judged in light of one's political views. For a Christian, the teachings of Jesus must be ahead of politics and we look to the Church for guidance as we apply the teachings of Jesus to our lives and in our times. The teachings of the Church are supposed to be ahead of our favorite blogger or commentator on Fox News or MSNBC.
The primacy of the pope is not a political monarchy. The Roman Pontiff, like all the faithful, remains subject to the Word of God and the Catholic faith. His authority exists to serve the unity of faith and communion. That is why one of the pope's ancient titles is Servus servorum Dei—servant of the servants of God.
This corrects two opposite misunderstandings. One treats the pope as an absolute ruler whose every statement must automatically be regarded as equally authoritative. The other treats papal teaching as optional, accepting it only when it agrees with one's theological or political preferences.
Neither is Catholic.
This becomes especially important when Catholics encounter a pope with whom they disagree. Fidelity does not mean surrendering reason or conscience. It means allowing reason and conscience to be formed within the faith of the Church rather than making personal preference the final measure of truth. Catholicism is a received faith—handed down through the centuries in the apostolic succession. It is not a collection of beliefs we select according to personal preference, political instinct or theological style.
Catholics can have questions. They can struggle with particular teachings, disagree with prudential decisions and hope for legitimate development. But the faith is not ours to reinvent. We trust that Christ continues to lead His Church into a deeper understanding of the truth, through the Holy Spirit and the living teaching Church. That is why fidelity to the Church is ultimately fidelity to Christ.
