With cardinals convening in Rome to select a new leader for the world’s 1.4 billion Catholics, the Catholic Church faces a pivotal moment. The central question for the conclave is whether to maintain the more inclusive and expansive interpretation of faith championed by Francis, or to return to the more conservative and traditional approaches of his predecessors, John Paul II and Benedict XVI.
The Church has encountered similar turning points throughout its modern history.
The Council of Trent, held from 1545 to 1560, addressed the Church’s response to the Protestant Reformation. Martin Luther, an Augustinian friar before his 1520 excommunication, had criticized the corruption within medieval Catholicism, emphasizing justification by faith (rather than works) and the concept of the priesthood of all believers.
The prelates at the Council of Trent had to decide whether to acknowledge and correct the excesses of the Church by embracing a more simplified Protestantism advocated by Luther and other Reformers. However, Trent chose a different path, reinforcing its Catholic identity through the affirmation of sacraments and good works. This intensified Catholicism is evident in the Baroque and Rococo architecture that followed, which John Updike described as “the incredible visual patisserie of baroque church interiors, mock-marble pillars of paint-veined gesso melting upward into trompe-l’oeil ceilings bubbling with cherubs, everything gilded and tipped and twisted and skewed to titillate the eye, huge wedding-cake interiors meant to stun Hussite peasants back into the bosom of Catholicism.”
Another crucial juncture for modern Catholicism arose after Pope Pius XII’s death in October 1958. The cardinals chose Angelo Giuseppe Roncalli, a 76-year-old they considered a “caretaker” pope, who took the name John XXIII. However, he proved to be far from a caretaker. Announcing it was “time to throw open the windows of the Church and let the fresh air of the spirit blow through,” he convened the Second Vatican Council, which reformed Church theology and liturgy (including mass in the vernacular) and, according to its supporters, modernized the Church.
Pope Paul VI, John XXIII’s successor, faced another critical decision shortly after Vatican II concluded. John XXIII had established the Pontifical Commission on Birth Control to review the Church’s stance on the matter. Paul VI expanded the commission to include laywomen, married couples, theologians, and bishops. The overwhelming recommendation was that the Church should revise its teaching to permit artificial birth control.
However, Paul VI rejected this recommendation and issued the papal encyclical on July 25, 1968. The Church declared that the only acceptable method of birth control was the rhythm method, which critics quickly labeled “Vatican Roulette.”
Humanae Vitae led many Catholics, especially in the United States, to believe that the Pope was out of touch. Second-wave feminism, the pursuit of upward mobility, career opportunities, and the desire for smaller families prompted many Catholic households to disregard the papal directive on birth control. Studies have indicated that Catholic attendance declined after 1968; many Catholics felt for the first time that it was acceptable to disobey the Pope while still considering themselves good Catholics.
Now, following Pope Francis’s death, the Church is again at a crossroads. Conservatives, whom Mark Massa, a historian and Jesuit, calls “Catholic Fundamentalists,” are pushing for a pope who will reverse course. They criticize Francis for his overtures to the and for allowing priests to bless same-sex unions. They allege that he has “feminized” the Church by calling out what others describe as “toxic masculinity.” They disapprove of his restricting the traditional Latin mass and considering the ordination of married men.
The other faction within the Church emphasizes that Francis sought to welcome marginalized individuals—gays, lesbians, divorced people—into the Church and demonstrated concern for immigrants and the poor, positions that appeal to a younger generation of Catholics. They also value his focus on addressing climate change.
While the term liberal may seem contradictory in the context of the Roman Catholic Church, this second group seeks to continue Francis’s work and legacy. The conclave is at a turning point, and the cardinals’ choice will likely shape the Church’s direction for years to come.
As an Episcopal priest, with only a vested interest in the conclave, I hesitate to make predictions. However, I am reminded of the lyrics from “The Devil Went Down to Georgia” by the Charlie Daniels Band, a musical duel between Satan and a young man named Johnny. The devil wagers a golden fiddle against Johnny’s soul, beginning with a bow across the strings, creating “an evil hiss.” While technically flawless, the rendition lacks soul.
When Johnny takes his turn, the fiddle resonates with energy and passion—and he triumphs. Whoever emerges victorious from the cardinals’ deliberations will inherit a church rich in ornamentation but still in need of the energy and passion that Francis brought to the task.
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