Receiving the bishops of the Italian Episcopal Conference, Pope Leo XIV said: “Go forward in unity, especially in view of the Synodal Path. The Lord — writes Saint Augustine — ‘to keep His body well compacted and in peace, thus addresses the Church through the mouth of the Apostle: The eye cannot say to the hand: I have no need of you; nor again the head to the feet: I have no need of you. If the whole body were an eye, where would the hearing be? If the whole body were hearing, where would the sense of smell be?’ (Exposition on Psalm 130, 6).”
The Pontiff added: “Remain united and do not defend yourselves against the provocations of the Spirit. Let synodalitybecome a mindset, penetrating the heart, decision-making processes, and ways of acting.”
These are strong words, dismantling every attempt to reduce the Synod to an ideological grid or a partisan banner. If some have labeled synodality as a “progressive” strategy, Leo XIV shows instead how the Spirit tolerates neither cliques nor convenient allegiances: in synodality, everyone must have space and be heard.
It is precisely this universal openness — rooted in Augustinian spirituality — that has positively struck many bishops and priests in the first months of this pontificate. Prevost, first as Prior General and now as Pope, has demonstrated a genuine listening style, free of prejudice. But those who know him well understand that after listening comes clear decision: firm, concrete, not postponed. He is not a spiritual man detached from reality, but a shepherd who knows how to distinguish between dialogue and indecision.
And yet, the Church of recent years is marked by another dynamic: divisions have increased, the ability to listen to differing voices has diminished. Even among bishops and formators, one often sees the opposite of what the Pope calls for: not so much presiding in charity, but shaping clergy and faithful according to personal sensibilities, almost like programs to be imposed. Thus, vocation is confused with personal taste, the Holy Spirit with our preferences, grace with ideas.
In Italian dioceses, and beyond, a growing phenomenon deserves attention: the fundamental reflections at clergy gatherings are entrusted to priests tied to specific theological (better: ideological) currents, often oriented toward a “progressive” or “modernist” vision of the Church. This is not a neutral choice. On the contrary, it steers the entire debate, because the words spoken in those settings do not remain personal opinions but become the framework of reference for the life of a particular presbyterate. The problem is obvious: if the speaker is openly aligned, he does not represent the clergy’s complexity but only one part. This means that in a presbyterate already marked by differing sensitivities and pastoral fatigue, the very moment meant to unite becomes a source of division. Whoever does not share that view feels automatically marginalized.
Why does this happen? Two recurring reasons:
A deliberate choice by bishops, preferring figures who sustain a certain ecclesial line, even at the cost of excluding other perspectives.
An implicit idea of reform, where the priesthood must be “rethought” in a new sense, downplaying sacramental mediation and pushing toward a communitarian and synodal model that risks flattening differences and impoverishing the spiritual dimension.
The result is that, once again, what prevails is not the voice of the whole Church — rooted in magisterium and living Tradition — but the voice of a current, elevated to official proposal, almost like a parallel magisterium. A preliminary knot emerges before even entering theological debate: why entrust a diocesan clergy conference to a priest openly aligned with a divisive vision of the Church? In a diverse presbyterate, already strained by pastoral workloads, the choice of a “school” speaker is not neutral. It is a governing act. And every governing act in the Church has two effects: it shapes consciences and sets direction. The question, then, is simple: do we want to build unity or risk deepening fractures? Often the presentations of these figures — who never wear a clerical collar — propose a “rethinking” of the priesthood, passing through three historical phases and culminating in an image of a synodal Church where “all disciples are missionaries.” The underlying assumption is clear: Tradition as a dynamic process, not a stable deposit, and therefore a ministry constantly re-situated. It is a thesis that may be discussed, but also risky unless it states precisely what remains non-negotiable. The danger? That “rethinking” becomes replacement of foundations: from sacramental ontology to communal functionality.
A frame problem: who speaks to the presbyterate, and in whose name?
The choice of the speaker is not a detail. When a bishop entrusts the key address of a clergy meeting, he is setting a paradigm. If the paradigm coincides with a specific — and controversial — theological school, it produces perceived exclusion: those who do not embrace that lexicon feel marginalized in their own house. Is this prudent? Paternal? In keeping with the responsibility of being Guardian of unity? Here it is not academic freedom at stake, but pastoral charity.
It is useless to say: “He is an authoritative voice from our presbyterate.” No. How many times do we invite people from outside to celebrate Mass or give talks? If we have a heretic in-house, do we call on a heretic? Let us not forget that just last year a woman was invited who, after touring Italy pontificating about abuse and portraying every priest as a potential abuser, was eventually exposed by Silere non possum: she claimed to be a psychologist and psychotherapist, but in fact had no qualifications. At the clergy meeting, with the same arrogance, she pontificated about how priests should be priests — yet offered no practical insight (and how could she, as a woman?).
The minimum criterion, in a polarized time, should be this: a word that includes, not one that labels. Pastoral creativity— if it is real — does not thrive on provocative slogans, but on doctrinal clarity and concrete guidance. And these two elements are often the weakest points.
What exactly are we “rethinking”?
The tone of certain addresses to clergy is often paternalistic, with the attitude of: “Now I will explain how you must be priests.” And curiously, they are almost always given by professors or theorists who have never borne the daily burden of a parish.
The scheme is always the same: a historical reconstruction of ministry moving from ancient collegiality to individual form, from Vatican II with its tria munera and emphasis on proclamation, to an ecclesiological vision of ministries situated “within” the people of God, with heavy emphasis on the sensus fidei. A path with some logic, but which carries three critical shifts:
Tradition treated as an “obviousness” to be deconstructed. Development is not the same as changing identity. Without continuity, what guarantees the ontological permanence of the priesthood? Where is the boundary that cannot be crossed?
Christology placed in the background. Shifting from a Christological to an ecclesiological foundation is called “progress.” But without Christology, ecclesiology is incomplete: the priest is not a mere delegate of the community, but a man configured to Christ the Head.
From mediator to facilitator. Some discourses reduce the priest to a community manager. But Catholic doctrine is clear: the priest acts in persona Christi capitis, as an effective sign of mediation. To deny this is to empty the sacrament of Orders.
Sociological categories, spiritual discernment, and the short circuit of “trial and error”
Another recurring element is the proposal to apply a “trial and error” method to pastoral life. Reasonable in theory, but pastoral work is not a neutral laboratory. Discernment is a theological act, rooted in faith and grace. Without criteria of truth — Christ, the sacraments, the tria munera, the care of souls — experimentation collapses into pragmatism. Equally problematic is the reliance on political categories such as “populism” or “crisis of participation” to interpret ecclesial life. These realities exist, but they cannot be the main lens to read the mystery of the Church. Otherwise, the result is an image of the priest as a manager or facilitator. The truth of the ministry, however, is different: the priest sanctifies, teaches, and governs — not as a delegate of the base, but because he makes present Christ the Head.
The good intention and the bad outcome: from co-responsibility to inverted clericalism
That the co-responsibility of the faithful must be valued is certain. But this constant emphasis on instituted ministries often reveals a search for status, not service. The danger is clear: instead of empowering laity, it diminishes priests, turning them into coordinators of structures. Focus on leadership, governance, organization — useful, yes, but shifting attention from what to guard and why.
The paradox is evident: we rightly denounce functionalism in priests — buried under endless Masses, bureaucracy, administration — yet propose more managerial tools, new structures, more processes. Is this the way? When the real urgency is different: more prayer, more human and affective formation, more Eucharistic adoration, more time in the confessional, more spiritual direction. This is what young priests are asking for; and what the faithful — the real ones, not the constructed ones — continue to demand insistently.
Uniformity or recognition of charisms? The inertia of ideological schemes
Many ecclesial discourses attempt to read the present but fall into ideological schemes: calling for “new forms” and “new processes” without recognizing the unique charisms of each priest. Decisions about reducing Masses or reorganizing parishes cannot be left to efficiency alone: the question is how to bring people to Christ — to living faith, sacraments, and grace. Without this, all criteria remain vague.
Some considerations
Sensus fidei vs magisterium: the intuition of faith is real, but not a plebiscite. Lumen Gentium is clear: sensus fidelium is not the sum of opinions but consensus in the Spirit to a truth the Church teaches.
Tria munera: proclamation has priority but cannot stand alone. Without sacraments, pastoral care becomes words without grace.
Instituted ministries vs ordained ministries: confusing them creates disorder and clericalizes the laity.
Synodality: walking together does not mean endless parliamentarism. It must lead to concrete decisions rooted in faith.
Leadership: the Church’s leadership is not corporate management but spiritual fatherhood. Importing worldly models always ends in disaster.
Unity, not uniformity: the bishops’ task
If unity is the goal, then the first reform is choosing the right speakers: not partisan figures but balanced voices that unite Tradition and mission, sacrament and prophecy, authority and listening. Unity does not arise from compromise, but from truth held with charity.
And, in essence, a non-negotiable clarification: the priest is a man consecrated, configured to Christ the Head, ordained for the Word and Sacraments, and set as shepherd of the people. Any “rethinking” that does not begin here is not Catholic. Not everything practical is pastoral; not everything new is evangelical; not everything shared is true.
Rethink, yes. Replace, no.
To rethink the priestly ministry in a Church of missionary disciples is necessary. But to “rethink” does not mean to change its nature. It means guarding the form of Christ more intensely, in a time that asks for clarity and holiness more than conferences. This is what a bishop should give his clergy: a word that unites, doctrine that sustains, guidance that frees. Everything else — as experience shows — divides, exhausts, and in the end, empties.
f.L.M. and f.G.M.
Silere non possum