Pope Leo’s New Interview Book Raises More Questions Than It Answers

On September 18, the interview book León XIV: Ciudadano del mundo, misionero del siglo XXI (“Leo XIV: Citizen of the World, Missionary of the 21st Century”) was published in Peru, featuring a series of conversations with Pope Leo XIV. The work is authored by Elise Ann Allen, correspondent for Crux, personally chosen by the pontiff as his official biographer—a decision that did not come without controversy within the conservative and traditionalist Catholic cultural sphere. The book will be translated into various languages in the coming months.

It addresses a wide range of topics, including several that are especially timely—those that defined the controversial (and unfinished) pontificate of Francis and inevitably influenced the dynamics of the Conclave that elected the first American pope in history. These include issues such as synodality, relations with China, support for the LGBT community, openness to a female diaconate, Traditional Latin Mass, environmentalism, and artificial intelligence.

“The appreciation I have for the life of the Church in Latin America,” Pope Leo told Elise Allen, “was significant both for my bond with Pope Francis and for my understanding of part of the vision he had for the Church.” Central to that vision is the concept of synodality. According to Francis, synodality is the method by which the entire Church—not only the bishops—is called to walk together, listening to one another in order to discern and decide collectively, a vision that many Catholics have perceived as a drift toward democratization.

From his very first appearance at the Loggia of Blessings, Leo XIV invoked the concept of synodality so dear to Pope Francis. Yet from the outset, there emerged a sense that its meaning might have shifted under Leo, despite the explicit reference to the Bergoglian pontificate. In the book, Pope Leo seeks to reassure, stating that “synodality means speaking of the Church in such a way that every member has a voice and a role to play through prayer and reflection.” Addressing bishops concerned about a silent democratic revolution within the Church, he added, “Bishops and priests may sometimes think that synodality strips them of authority,” but “that is not the meaning of synodality.”

The pope, who holds dual American and Peruvian citizenship, is even more explicit: “This is not about trying to turn the Church into a kind of democratic government,” he says, “because if we look at many countries in today’s world, democracy is not necessarily a perfect solution for everything.” According to the pope, the goal must be to “respect and understand the life of the Church for what it is, and to say: ‘We must do this together.’” In other words, for Pope Prevost, synodality is not about collecting votes and opinions, but about acting together—starting from a shared understanding of decisions already discerned at a higher level. It’s a matter of output, not input.

This is not, however, without risk. Unlike Bergoglio—who preached dialogue but in practice left room only for those aligned with his views—Prevost seeks to hold together within the Church both fire and water: the conservative cardinal alongside the most radicalized, gay-friendly, and agnostic Jesuit. Yet, if the Gospel is true when it teaches that “if a house is divided against itself, that house cannot stand” (Mark 3:25), then forced coexistence inevitably leads to division.

Another highly sensitive issue concerns the secret agreements with Beijing, promoted by Pope Francis and the Secretary of State, Cardinal Pietro Parolin. 

In 2018, the Vatican and China signed an agreement whose terms remain officially undisclosed but are widely inferred. In practice, the Vatican delegated the appointment of bishops to the Chinese Communist Party, retaining only a theoretical right of veto. The agreement was signed in 2018 and renewed in 2020, 2022, and 2024. The latest renewal extended its duration to four years, until October 22, 2028, suggesting a possible shift from provisional to permanent status. Many observers have denounced the serious ecclesial and moral consequences of these agreements. Among the most authoritative critics is Cardinal Joseph Zen, emeritus bishop of Hong Kong, who continues to face persecution by the Chinese government.

In the interview book, the pope directly addresses the “very difficult” issue and expresses admiration for “that significant group of Chinese Catholics who, for many years, have lived under a kind of oppression or difficulty in freely practicing their faith.” At the same time, Prevost stated his intention to continue “the line that the Holy See has followed for several years now, and which was carried forward by several of my predecessors,” while clarifying that this would be a “short-term” decision.

These remarks come almost simultaneously with a highly controversial act of governance concerning the Church in China: the suppression of the two historic dioceses of Xuanhua and Xiwanzi and the creation of the new Diocese of Zhangjiakou—an ecclesiastical structure long desired and controlled by the Communist Party. In effect, the pope has received and ratified decisions abusively made by the regime in the 1980s, recognizing as bishop a priest selected and consecrated within the Chinese Patriotic Catholic Association, the state-controlled version of the Catholic Church in China that operates independently from the Vatican. Moreover, this priest has implemented a series of directives aimed at excluding younger generations from the sacraments and Catholic education. 

Here a contradiction emerges: while in the interview book, Leo XIV expresses concern for persecuted Chinese Catholics, his governance seems to reward those who collaborated with the persecutors while marginalizing the underground Church that remained faithfully resistant to communism.

Equally contentious is the issue concerning support for the LGBT community, in the wake of a chaotic and improbable “gay pride in the Vatican.” One of the most striking contradictions of Leo XIV’s pontificate lies in how it is interpreted: Father James Martin portrays him as the natural successor to Francis, while even progressive media outlets see Elise Allen’s book as a gesture of distancing. In truth, it is the pope himself who generates ambiguity, alternating between gestures of openness and more cautious tones.

One phrase in particular stands out from the book: Leo XIV suggests that the Church’s doctrine on sexual morality—and even on female diaconate—could one day change. “I believe we must change attitudes before even thinking about changing doctrine,” he says. In other words, first comes a shift in pastoral practice, and then—by gradually accustoming the people of God—the teaching itself might follow. He also adds, “I consider it highly unlikely, at least in the near future, that the Church’s doctrine on sexuality and marriage will change.” This implies that doctrinal change is not entirely ruled out. Such a statement, published in an official papal volume, strikes many as deeply inappropriate for a pope.

In the interview book, Pope Leo XIV did not shy away from addressing the sensitive issue of Traditional Liturgy [Traditional Latin Mass; Vetus Ordo or Tridentine Mass]. His words convey prudence, uncertainty, and a clear desire not to close the door entirely. “Between the Tridentine Mass and the Vatican II Mass, the Mass of Paul VI [Novus Ordo], I’m not sure where things will ultimately lead. It’s obviously very complicated.” The pontiff appears to share Francis’s view that the liturgy has been used as a political tool—“a pretext for advancing other agendas”—and that polarization has made calm dialogue virtually impossible.

Leo states that he has not yet met with an organized group of faithful advocates for the Tridentine rite but announces that he will do so soon, acknowledging the need to “sit down and talk about it,” perhaps even within the framework of the synodal process. However, the most striking note is that of “polarization”: supporters of the Vetus Ordo are said to have become impermeable to dialogue, refusing even to listen. “This is a problem,” the pope says, “it means we have entered into ideology and no longer into the experience of ecclesial communion.”

Reading the interview book leaves the impression that every response from Leo XIV is carefully calibrated, following a well-tested pattern: first, a seemingly reassuring word to the faithful attached to traditional doctrine; then, a gesture of openness toward those who dream of radical reforms; finally, an accusation of “polarization” directed at those who resist. It is hard not to discern, behind this dynamic, the imprint of the curial environment shaped by Francis, with its vocabulary and categories now part of common usage. Leo XIV, who has long breathed that atmosphere, appears to have absorbed its reflexes—often more political than pastoral.

Yet the pope admits he has not yet met with supporters of the traditional liturgy, nor has he engaged with those who defend traditional doctrine. Perhaps it is precisely from such an encounter that a surprise might emerge: the realization that accusations of ideology do not reflect reality, and that true radicalism does not reside among the simple faithful attached to the ancient Mass, but elsewhere—within those sectors that, in recent years, have imposed a one-sided narrative. If Leo XIV truly manages to hear all voices, he may come to discern the difference between those who defend the faith they have received and those who, under the guise of openness, pursue entirely different goals.