Progressive Turn: Josef Grünwidl Named Archbishop of Vienna

On October 17th, Pope Leo XIV—or more precisely, the Secretariat of State in concert with the team from the Dicastery for Bishops, led by Bergoglian Secretary Ilson de Jesus Montanari—appointed the new Metropolitan Archbishop of Vienna, following the resignation of Cardinal Christoph Schönborn upon reaching the age limit. Schönborn, a longtime friend of Benedict XVI, was also the editor of the most recent edition of the Catechism of the Catholic Church.

The new bishop is Josef Grünwidl. From 1995 to 1998, he served as the personal secretary to Archbishop Schönborn. On January 22, 2025, Pope Francis appointed him Apostolic Administrator of the same Archdiocese—a move that effectively paved the way for his episcopal appointment. It can be said with a high degree of certainty that Prevost merely confirmed a process already underway, while nonetheless signaling a degree of alignment with its underlying orientation.

The appointment of Grünwidl as head of one of Europe’s most prominent dioceses is far from insignificant. The new archbishop is a leading figure within the global progressive episcopate. Over the years, the Austrian prelate has expressed support for major disciplinary changes within the Catholic Church—including the abolition of priestly celibacy and the introduction of female diaconate.

More importantly, for several years Grünwidl is said to have been part of the group Aufruf zum Ungehorsam (Call to Disobedience), a movement of nearly 350 Austrian priests and deacons who openly urged fellow clergy to defy Vatican directives on sacramental norms—for instance, by admitting divorced and remarried Catholics, members of other faiths, and even excommunicated individuals to Communion. The group also advocated for a more horizontal liturgical reform, emphasizing lay participation in both the celebration of the Mass and preaching (‘self-managed liturgies’). Finally, they called for the introduction of both female and married priesthood.

Grünwidl is said to have recently distanced himself from this group of dissident priests and deacons, and his name no longer appears on the official roster. This likely reflects the incompatibility between such a bold stance and the ecclesiastical career path unfolding before him. It hardly needs reminding that the Vatican has never taken disciplinary action against these rebellious clerics. On the contrary, in recent years, the only priests to face sanctions from Roman authorities have been those most faithful to Tradition and openly critical of Pope Francis’s leadership.

Unlike other progressive bishops appointed by Bergoglio, Grünwidl also appears to be a calm and cultured figure, fond of intellectual debate. His speeches often reference towering spiritual figures such as Saint Teresa of Ávila and Saint Benedict of Nursia. Moreover, he is himself an organist with a deep passion for the music of Bach.

All things considered, Grünwidl’s appointment as head of the Archdiocese of Vienna is deeply unsettling and concerning—not only for Austrian Catholics, but for Catholics across Europe and indeed around the world — for a number of reasons.

First and foremost: though Vienna is not a primatial see, it remains one of the most influential dioceses in Europe. It has long served as a litmus test for discerning the Pope’s orientation in episcopal appointments. Moreover, Austria—often grouped with Hungary—is widely perceived as one of the most conservative nations within the European Union. The appointment of a progressive prelate to lead the Austrian Church is therefore not merely a pastoral decision: it is a geopolitical signal, a strategic move that could reverberate even within the political class traditionally attuned to the Church’s voice.

In truth, Grünwidl is merely the latest in a (far too) long line of bishops appointed by Leo XIV who support the idea of female diaconate. It is increasingly clear that a new ecclesial hierarchy is being cultivated—one that may eventually be willing to challenge the doctrinal cornerstone of the Catholic priesthood. The implications of such a trajectory are anything but theoretical: the history of the Protestant churches, marked by liberal drift and a deep identity crisis, offers a striking cautionary example.

Let us recall, in no particular order, some of the most prominent bishops appointed by Leo who fall into this category: Shane Mackinlay (Brisbane, Australia), Beat Grögli (St. Gallen, Switzerland), and José Antonio Satué Huerto (Málaga, Spain)—all of whom have expressed support for the female diaconate.

To fully grasp this trend, one must bear in mind that within the Catholic Church there exists a pressure group—now dominant—intent on overturning Catholic doctrine and morality, as well as the Church’s hierarchical structure and very nature. The agenda of this lobby, which in recent years has been dubbed by journalists the ‘St. Gallen Group,’ takes its name from the Swiss town where its early members used to meet during the final years of John Paul II’s pontificate. 

This program was clearly outlined in a speech delivered by the ultra-progressive Cardinal Carlo Maria Martini to the European bishops back in 1999. I discussed it in this analysis, published just over a month before Francis’s death.

Second: since at least the mid-19th century, every Archbishop of Vienna has been elevated to the cardinalate—a testament to the weight this diocese carries within the Church. It is therefore reasonable to expect that Grünwidl will receive the red hat in one of the upcoming consistories. This development is troubling, though not because it makes him a viable papal candidate. If Prevost’s pontificate lasts around fifteen years—as seems likely given his age and robust health—Grünwidl will be 77 by then, hardly an ideal candidate for the papacy.

Certainly, Grünwidl is likely to become a figure closely aligned with the Roman Curia, and will almost certainly hold roles within various Dicasteries—both as a member and as a consultor. Among his more striking positions is his long-standing support for a radical reform of the College of Cardinals: in his view, women should be included within its ranks, thereby entering the most influential circle of papal advisors.

A similar proposal had already surfaced in the final years of Francis’s pontificate, but was eventually shelved—perhaps due in part to a vigilant journalistic pushback that voiced strong opposition.

It is important to clarify that the critical issue with these reform proposals does not lie in the presence of women as such in consultative roles at the highest levels of the Catholic Church. The concerns are anthropological and institutional—and, for believers, theological as well. The College of Cardinals is not a parliament, nor a mere organ of social representation. Any institution, even a civil one, begins to decay when it reshapes its constitution according to cultural trends rather than its original purpose. Just as one would not ask a court to include poets in order to satisfy categorical parity, one cannot ask the Church to alter its governing nature, which is founded upon the priesthood as its cornerstone.

To force a redefinition of roles is to deny the complementarity of the sexes and to impose a model of neutrality—a hallmark of contemporary culture, which interprets every difference as injustice rather than as richness. This vision, now being aggressively promoted across all spheres of social life, including the religious domain, encounters one of its most formidable obstacles in the structural identity of the Catholic Church.

In other words, the aim of these proposals is not to grant women greater decision-making power, but rather to subvert the Church’s hierarchical and vertical nature—a structure that safeguards its sacred and transcendent orientation. The goal is to replace it with a democratic and horizontal model, effectively transforming the ecclesial institution into a religious branch of the United Nations.

The Church, in fact, stands as historical proof that democracy is not the best of all possible regimes. Its model of ‘mixed government,’ which has withstood two millennia of suppression attempts by worldly powers, harmonizes within itself the strengths of monarchy (the pope), aristocracy (cardinals and bishops), and democracy (presbyters and deacons, ordained regardless of social background). This model—built upon the twin principles of subsidiarity and solidarity—challenges the dominant political paradigms of the contemporary West, which are structured around centralism and radical equality.

The appointment of Josef Grünwidl is not an isolated episode, but yet another sign of a Church increasingly tempted to bend to the spirit of the world. While many applaud this “renewal”, European Catholics and conservatives must remain vigilant, recalling that fidelity to the Church’s nature as willed by Jesus Christ can—as it has in the past—offer a vital contribution to safeguarding Europe from the seemingly unstoppable dissolution brought about by modernity.