Dear Pope Leo

Dear Pope Leo,

Can I make a suggestion?

Come anyway.

I know America is a mess. Trust me, we noticed. Depending on which cable channel you watch, we’re either on the verge of civil war or the Second Coming. Sometimes both before dinner. The internet has already decided you’re staying away because of Donald Trump. The Vatican hasn’t actually said that. They’ve simply said there are no plans for a visit. Maybe it’s politics. Maybe it’s scheduling. Maybe it’s something else entirely. Frankly, I’m less interested in why you aren’t coming than I am in why you would choose not to.

The more I think about it, the more I think we’re asking the wrong question. This isn’t really about Donald Trump. It’s about the people sitting in the pews every Sunday. Your flock is wandering all over the field without much of a shepherd. American Catholics have become as tribal as everyone else. We’ve wrapped our politics around our faith until it’s hard to tell where one ends and the other begins. We argue over candidates, immigration, taxes, court decisions, and culture wars with far more passion than we talk about mercy, forgiveness, humility, or the Beatitudes. Your flock is listening to politicians, pundits, influencers, and podcasters when, with all due respect, they’re supposed to be listening to you.

If that’s happening, and I think it is, then this isn’t the country to avoid. It’s the country that needs you most. A shepherd doesn’t stay away because the sheep have scattered. That’s precisely when he goes looking for them.

Somewhere along the way we’ve reduced the papacy to just another political office. Every trip is analyzed as though the Pope were a presidential candidate. Who is he endorsing? Who is he criticizing? What message is he sending? We’ve forgotten that your greatest collateral isn’t criticism. It’s credibility. The Pope doesn’t change the world because he comments on politics. He changes the world because he reminds us there are things infinitely more important than politics.

Imagine filling cathedrals across America without mentioning Donald Trump even once. Talk instead about mercy. Talk about forgiveness. Talk about humility. Remind Catholics that loving your neighbor isn’t suspended during election years. Tell us that “Judge not” didn’t come with an exception for social media. I suspect millions of Americans would walk out of those churches talking about something far more important than whatever happened that morning on cable news.

If American Catholics were quietly living the Beatitudes, volunteering at soup kitchens, forgiving their enemies, visiting the sick, feeding the hungry, and staying off Facebook arguments, I’d say, “Fine. Go somewhere else. We’ve got this.” But have you met us lately? We’re a hot mess. We’re angry, suspicious, tribal, and increasingly convinced that anyone who disagrees with us is either evil or stupid. We’ve become experts at defending our political party and amateurs at defending our faith.

The irony is almost painful. We’re exactly the kind of people Jesus spent His time with. He didn’t avoid the broken, the confused, the self-righteous, or the angry. He walked straight toward them.

And then I think about Jerusalem.

Jesus knew exactly what was waiting for Him there. He knew the political establishment wanted Him gone. He knew the religious establishment viewed Him as a threat. He knew the trip would almost certainly end with His death. Yet He went anyway. Not because it was safe. Not because it would be popular. Because it was necessary.

No, I’m not comparing you to Jesus. I’m comparing the mission. Christianity was never built by avoiding difficult places. It was built by walking directly into them. The early Church didn’t flourish because it waited for comfortable political conditions. It flourished because it showed up when the world was at its most broken.

If ever there were a moment for a pope to stand in the middle of America and simply remind Catholics who they are supposed to be, this would seem to be it. Not to lecture Donald Trump. Not to endorse Donald Trump. Not to condemn Donald Trump. Simply to remind fifty million American Catholics that before they are Republicans or Democrats, conservatives or progressives, they are Catholics.

That seems to me like a trip worth making.