Pope Leo XIV Wears Pope Francis' Pectoral Cross

On July 9, 2025, a profound moment unfolded during a Mass for the Care of Creation, celebrated in what Vatican News described as a “natural cathedral” of towering trees and open skies. Pope Leo XIV, the recently elected pontiff, stepped forward wearing the iconic “Good Shepherd” pectoral cross, a simple silver piece that had become synonymous with his predecessor, Pope Francis.

This was no ordinary gesture. The cross, depicting Christ carrying a lamb on his shoulders, encapsulated Francis’ entire papacy—a ministry rooted in humility, service, and closeness to the marginalized. By choosing to wear it, Leo XIV sent a resounding message to the Catholic world and beyond: the spirit of Francis’ pontificate is alive and thriving.

Social media, particularly posts on X, erupted with enthusiasm, with users exclaiming, “We are sooo back!” and hailing Leo as “Pope Francis 2.0” in a mocking gesture of so-called Traditionalists. The choice was a bold declaration that Leo XIV intends to prioritize his role as a pastor over that of a politician, continuing a legacy of compassion, environmental stewardship, and unity in a Church often fraught with division.

The Good Shepherd cross, first worn by Pope Francis in 2013, is a stark departure from the ornate, gold-encrusted pectoral crosses favored by popes of centuries past. Crafted from simple silver, it portrays Jesus as the Good Shepherd, tenderly carrying a lamb while surrounded by his flock. For Francis, it was more than a piece of jewelry—it was a theological statement. It symbolized his vision of a Church that goes to the peripheries, embraces the poor, and rejects the trappings of power. When Leo XIV donned this cross, he was not merely borrowing a relic of his predecessor; he was embracing the ethos it represents. The Mass for the Care of Creation, an event rooted in Francis’ landmark encyclical *Laudato Si’*, was the perfect occasion for such a gesture. Held outdoors, surrounded by nature, it emphasized the interconnectedness of humanity and the environment—a theme central to both Francis’ and Leo’s papacies. The significance of this moment cannot be overstated. Since his election in March 2025, Pope Leo XIV has faced intense scrutiny. As a relatively unknown figure—an Augustinian cardinal from Argentina—his ascent to the papacy was a surprise to many. Some wondered whether he would continue Francis’ progressive reforms or pivot toward a more traditionalist stance to appease conservative factions within the Church. His decision to wear the Good Shepherd cross is a clear answer. It signals that Leo XIV is not interested in playing the political games that have long characterized Vatican dynamics. Instead, he is doubling down on Francis’ vision of a Church that prioritizes the poor, the environment, and the pastoral over the political. On X, the reaction was swift and jubilant. Posts flooded the platform, with hashtags like #PopeLeoXIV and #GoodShepherd trending globally. One user wrote, “Leo XIV wearing Francis’ cross? We are SOOO back. This is the Church I signed up for!” Another declared, “He’s not just continuing Francis’ work—he’s amplifying it. Pastor, not politician.” These sentiments reflect a broader sense of relief and excitement among Catholics who feared the Church might veer away from Francis’ reforms. Leo’s choice of the cross was a deliberate nod to this constituency, reassuring them that the spirit of *Laudato Si’*, *Fratelli Tutti*, and Francis’ emphasis on synodality will endure. The Mass itself was a powerful setting for this symbolic act. Held in a “natural cathedral,” the liturgy was a celebration of creation, echoing Francis’ call to care for our common home. Leo XIV’s homily, delivered under the canopy of trees, focused on the need for ecological conversion and solidarity with the poor, who suffer most from environmental degradation. “We are not owners of this earth,” he said, “but stewards, called to tend it with love and humility, as the Good Shepherd tends his flock.” The imagery of the shepherd, mirrored by the cross hanging from his neck, was unmistakable. It was a moment of continuity, a bridge between Francis’ papacy and Leo’s emerging leadership. This gesture also carries weight in the context of Leo XIV’s background. As an Augustinian, Leo is steeped in the spirituality of St. Augustine, whose emphasis on community, humility, and the pursuit of truth resonates deeply with Francis’ own Jesuit-inspired approach. Both popes share a commitment to a Church that is outward-looking, engaging with the world’s challenges rather than retreating into institutional self-preservation. By wearing the Good Shepherd cross, Leo XIV aligns himself with this vision, positioning himself as a “universal shepherd” who transcends the political divides that have polarized the Church in recent decades. The choice of the cross also speaks to Leo’s rejection of the trappings of power. Unlike the elaborate pectoral crosses of previous popes, which were often encrusted with jewels and crafted from gold, Francis’ cross is understated, almost austere. Its simplicity is a rebuke to the clericalism and pomp that Francis sought to dismantle. By adopting it, Leo XIV is signaling that he, too, rejects the idea of the papacy as a monarchical institution. Instead, he embraces a model of leadership that is relational, grounded in service, and focused on the needs of the faithful rather than the preservation of Vatican prestige. This moment also has implications for the Church’s ongoing synodal process, another hallmark of Francis’ papacy. Synodality, the idea of a Church that listens and journeys together, was a cornerstone of Francis’ reforms, culminating in the global Synod on Synodality that concluded in 2024. Leo XIV has already indicated his intention to continue this process, announcing plans for regional synods to address local challenges while maintaining a global dialogue. The Good Shepherd cross, with its imagery of a shepherd guiding his flock, is a fitting symbol for this approach. It suggests that Leo sees his role as one of accompaniment, walking with the faithful rather than dictating from above. The reaction from the global Catholic community has been overwhelmingly positive, but it’s not without critics. Some traditionalist voices on X and in Catholic media have expressed skepticism, arguing that Leo’s embrace of Francis’ symbols risks alienating conservatives who hoped for a return to a more doctrinally rigid papacy. One X post remarked, “The Good Shepherd cross is a nice gesture, but will Leo XIV address the doctrinal confusion left by Francis?” Such critiques reflect the ongoing tension within the Church between those who embrace Francis’ reforms and those who view them as a departure from tradition. Yet Leo’s decision to wear the cross suggests he is unafraid of these tensions, choosing instead to lean into Francis’ legacy as a way of unifying the Church around its core mission. The environmental focus of the Mass also underscores Leo XIV’s commitment to *Laudato Si’*, Francis’ 2015 encyclical on the environment and human ecology. The document called for a radical reorientation of human priorities, urging Catholics and all people of goodwill to address climate change, consumerism, and the exploitation of the poor. By celebrating a Mass for the Care of Creation and wearing Francis’ cross, Leo XIV is signaling that this agenda remains central to his papacy. In his homily, he spoke of the “cry of the earth and the cry of the poor,” echoing Francis’ words and reinforcing the Church’s role as a moral voice on global issues. This focus is particularly significant in 2025, as the world grapples with escalating climate crises, from record-breaking heatwaves to devastating floods. The symbolism of the Good Shepherd cross also extends to Leo’s approach to global challenges beyond the environment. Like Francis, he has emphasized the need for a Church that is a “field hospital,” tending to the wounds of a broken world. In his first months as pope, Leo has already made headlines for his outreach to refugees, his condemnation of economic inequality, and his calls for peace in conflict zones. The cross, with its image of Christ carrying the vulnerable, is a powerful emblem of this mission. It suggests that Leo’s papacy will be defined not by grand political strategies but by small, human gestures—visiting the poor, listening to the marginalized, and fostering dialogue across divides. For many Catholics, the sight of Leo XIV wearing the Good Shepherd cross is a moment of hope—a sign that the Church is moving forward, not backward. The phrase “We are sooo back” captures this sentiment perfectly, reflecting a renewed sense of optimism among those who saw Francis’ papacy as a turning point for the Church. By embracing the cross, Leo is not merely paying homage to his predecessor; he is signaling that he intends to build on Francis’ foundation, adapting it to the challenges of a new era. This is not a papacy of rupture but of continuity, rooted in the image of the Good Shepherd who lays down his life for his sheep. In a world marked by division, polarization, and crisis, Pope Leo XIV’s choice to wear the Good Shepherd cross is a powerful statement. It reaffirms the Church’s call to be a beacon of hope, a voice for the voiceless, and a steward of creation. It declares that Leo XIV is not a politician maneuvering for influence but a pastor committed to guiding his flock with humility and love. As one X user put it, “Pope Leo XIV is Francis 2.0—same heart, same mission, new chapter.” With the Good Shepherd cross around his neck, Leo XIV is proving that the Church is, indeed, “sooo back.”

A Critique of the "We're So Back" Trope Among Catholic Traditionalists: Misplaced Nostalgia and a Misreading of Church History

A Critique of the "We're So Back" Trope Among Catholic Traditionalists: Misplaced Nostalgia and a Misreading of Church History

In recent years, particularly following the election of Pope Leo XIV on May 8, 2025, a segment of Catholic traditionalists has embraced the phrase "we're so back" as a rallying cry. This trope, often circulated on social media platforms and within certain online communities, suggests a triumphant return to a perceived golden age of Catholicism—characterized by rigid doctrinal enforcement, the widespread use of the Extraordinary Form, and a rejection of what they view as the liberalizing tendencies of the post-Vatican II Church. The election of an American pope, Cardinal Robert Francis Prevost, who chose the name Leo XIV, has fueled this narrative among some traditionalists who see his Augustinian background and choice of name as a nod to pre-conciliar popes like Leo XIII, a figure associated with social teaching that some interpret as aligning with their ideals. However, this enthusiasm rests on a flawed premise: the notion that the Catholic Church "left" somewhere and is now "back" where it belongs. This critique argues that such a view is historically inaccurate, statistically unsupported, and theologically deficient, particularly when measured against the Church's growth under Pope Francis, the continuity of its mission, and the promises of Christ as reaffirmed by Pope Leo XIV. The Historical Misconception: The Church Never "Left" The "we're so back" trope implies a departure from an authentic Catholic identity, often traced to the Second Vatican Council (1962-1965) and the subsequent papacies, especially that of Pope Francis (2013-2025). Traditionalists frequently point to changes in liturgy, such as the shift from the Extraordinary Form to the Ordinary Form Mass, and perceived doctrinal ambiguities as evidence of a Church that has strayed. Yet, this narrative overlooks the Church's unbroken continuity across two millennia. The Catholic Church, as an institution guided by the Holy Spirit, has never ceased to be the Body of Christ, despite internal challenges, schisms, or reforms. Historical precedents—such as the Arian heresy in the 4th century, the Great Schism of 1054, or the Protestant Reformation in the 16th century—demonstrate that the Church has faced periods of crisis and adaptation without losing its essence. The gates of hell, as Christ promised, have not prevailed (Matthew 16:18), a promise reiterated in theological reflections that emphasize the Church's resilience through human imperfection. Vatican II, far from being a rupture, was a development of doctrine, building on the foundations laid by previous councils. Popes like John Paul II and Benedict XVI, often revered by traditionalists, upheld its legitimacy, with Benedict XVI famously describing it as a "hermeneutic of continuity" rather than rupture. Pope Francis, despite his pastoral innovations, maintained this continuity, issuing magisterial documents like Amoris Laetitia (2016) and Laudato Si' (2015) that, while addressing modern issues, remained rooted in traditional Catholic teaching on mercy, justice, and stewardship. The claim that the Church "left" its authentic path under Francis ignores the fact that the Church's mission—proclaiming the Gospel and administering the sacraments—has persisted uninterrupted. The Extraordinary Form's restriction under Traditionis Custodes (2021) is cited as evidence of decline, but this was a disciplinary measure, not a doctrinal shift, and reflects a pastoral response to division rather than a rejection of tradition itself. Statistical Evidence: Church Growth Under Pope Francis One of the most striking counterpoints to the "we're so back" narrative is the measurable growth of the Catholic Church during Pope Francis' pontificate. Contrary to the traditionalist lament of a Church in decline, global Catholic population increased by over 10% from approximately 1.2 billion in 2013 to around 1.4 billion by 2025, according to estimates from Church statistics and reports. This growth, while not uniform across regions, reflects a robust expansion in Africa, Asia, and parts of Latin America, where Francis' emphasis on the poor and marginalized resonated deeply. In Africa alone, the number of Catholics rose from about 200 million to over 250 million, driven by missionary efforts and local vocations, a trend Francis actively supported through synodality and outreach. This growth challenges the traditionalist assertion that the Church's openness to dialogue, inclusivity, and social justice under Francis weakened its identity. Attendance at Mass and sacramental participation, while declining in some Western countries (a trend predating Francis), remained stable or increased in the Global South, where the Church's presence is expanding. The ordination of priests also saw a global uptick, with seminaries in Africa and Asia reporting higher enrollment, countering the narrative of a Church in crisis. Francis' reforms, such as addressing the sexual abuse scandal with stricter protocols and curial transparency, further strengthened institutional credibility, contributing to this growth. The "we're so back" trope, by contrast, offers no evidence of a Church that was "gone" or is now returning—rather, it reveals a nostalgic fixation on a Western, pre-Vatican II model that never represented the global Church's full reality. Theological Deficiency: Distrust in Christ's Promise At its core, the "we're so back" trope betrays a lack of trust in Christ's promise that "the gates of hell shall not prevail against it" (Matthew 16:18). This promise, articulated by Jesus to Peter, the first pope, has been a cornerstone of Catholic theology, interpreted by saints and scholars as a guarantee of the Church's indefectibility. The traditionalist narrative, however, suggests that the Church under Francis—and now potentially under Leo XIV—has been so compromised by modernity, liberalism, or synodality that it required a dramatic "return." This view implies that the Holy Spirit's guidance faltered, a position that contradicts the Church's teaching on its divine protection. Theological reflections, both historical and contemporary, reinforce this critique. Early Church Fathers like St. Augustine and St. Thomas Aquinas emphasized that the Church's holiness derives not from the sinlessness of its members but from Christ's redemptive presence. During the Arian crisis, when most bishops adhered to heresy, the Church survived through a faithful remnant, proving that divine protection transcends human failings. Similarly, under Francis, challenges like clericalism and polarization were met with calls for conversion and unity, not abandonment of the faith. The traditionalist distrust in this process suggests a faith more in human control than in divine providence, a stance that undermines the very tradition they claim to defend. Pope Leo XIV's early statements further underscore this continuity. In his first address on May 8, 2025, he echoed Francis' themes of synodality and mercy, declaring, "God loves us, God loves you all, and evil will not prevail!" This reaffirmation of Christ's promise aligns with Francis' legacy and counters the traditionalist narrative of a Church that needed rescuing. Leo's commitment to a "synodal church" and his participation in the Synod on Synodality (2023-2024) indicate an intent to build on Francis' inclusive approach, not to revert to a pre-conciliar model. The "we're so back" trope, therefore, misaligns with the current pontiff's vision and the theological assurance of the Church's enduring mission. Pope Leo XIV and the Continuation of Francis' Legacy The election of Pope Leo XIV, the first American pontiff, has been interpreted by some traditionalists as a pivot away from Francis' papacy. His choice of the name Leo, evoking Leo XIII's social encyclicals like *Rerum Novarum* (1891), and his Augustinian background have fueled hopes of a return to a more "traditional" Church. However, Leo XIV's actions and words since his election on May 8, 2025, suggest a deliberate continuation of Francis' legacy. In his inaugural Mass homily on May 9, 2025, he called for a Church that serves a hostile world with joyful faith, echoing Francis' emphasis on outreach to the marginalized. His pledge to renew commitment to the path set by Vatican II and *Evangelii Gaudium* (2013) further aligns him with Francis' vision of a missionary, synodal Church. Leo's background as a missionary in Peru and his role as Prefect of the Dicastery for Bishops under Francis highlight his pastoral approach, which prioritizes listening to the laity and fostering unity—principles central to Francis' pontificate. His address to the Synod's 16th Ordinary Council on June 26, 2025, described synodality as "a style, an attitude that helps us to be Church," directly building on Francis' reforms. This continuity undermines the traditionalist expectation of a "return," as Leo XIV appears committed to addressing modern challenges—climate change, social justice, and ecumenism—rather than retreating to a nostalgic past. Traditionalists' optimism about Leo XIV often hinges on misinterpretations, such as seeing his name choice as a signal of doctrinal rigidity. Yet, Leo XIII's legacy was one of adaptation to industrial society, not a rejection of progress. Leo XIV's early focus on unity, as seen in his June 29, 2025, feast of Sts. Peter and Paul address, where he spoke of an "ecumenism of blood," suggests a forward-looking Church, not a backward glance. The "we're so back" trope, therefore, rests on a misreading of Leo's intentions and a projection of traditionalist desires onto his papacy. Cultural and Psychological Drivers of the Trope The "we're so back" sentiment also reflects cultural and psychological dynamics within traditionalist circles, particularly in the West. The phrase, borrowed from internet slang, signifies a resurgence after a perceived decline, mirroring trends in political and cultural conservatism. In the U.S., where Leo XIV hails from, the rise of national populism and media polarization has influenced Catholic discourse, with some traditionalists aligning the Church's "return" with right-wing values. This is evident in online posts where users express relief that Leo XIV might counter globalism or liberalism, a sentiment that oversimplifies the Church's transpolitical mission. Psychologically, the trope may stem from a desire for certainty in an era of rapid change—technological, cultural, and ecological. Francis' ambiguity on issues like LGBTQ+ pastoral care and women's roles, while rooted in mercy, unsettled those seeking clear boundaries. The election of an American pope, combined with his traditional name, offered a psychological anchor, fueling the "we're so back" narrative. However, this reflects more a reaction to secular trends than a response to the Church's actual state, which, as shown, has grown and adapted under Francis.

Critiquing the Evidence Base Traditionalists often cite anecdotal evidence—declining Mass attendance in Europe, the Extraordinary Form's popularity, or Francis' off-the-cuff remarks—as proof of a Church in crisis. Yet, these are selective and lack context. Mass attendance decline began post-World War II, long before Vatican II, due to secularization, not papal policy. The Extraordinary Form, while cherished by a minority, represents a fraction of global Catholic practice, with the Ordinary Form remaining the norm. Francis' remarks, often pastoral rather than doctrinal, are misinterpreted as shifts when they are invitations to dialogue, as seen in his synodal process. Conversely, evidence of Church vitality—global growth, new vocations, and Francis' reforms—receives less attention. The traditionalist focus on a "lost" Church ignores the Holy Spirit's role in guiding it through diversity. Leo XIV's continuation of this trajectory further invalidates the trope, as his synodal emphasis seeks to unify, not divide, the faithful. Conclusion: A Call for Trust and Unity The "we're so back" trope among Catholic traditionalists is a misjudgment of history, statistics, and theology. The Church never "left" its mission, growing under Pope Francis and maintaining Christ's promise against the gates of hell. Pope Leo XIV's commitment to Francis' legacy reinforces this continuity, challenging traditionalist nostalgia. Rather than celebrating a return, Catholics are called to trust in the Church's divine guidance and work toward unity, embracing the global, synodal Church of today. The trope, while emotionally resonant, lacks substance and risks fracturing the Body of Christ it claims to defend.