On a magnificent Sunday morning, characterized by the aroma of incense and the melodies of hymns, with the attention of the world focused on St. Peter’s Square, a subtle yet significant diplomatic episode unfolded with a chilling precision that conveyed a clear message to global political and religious communities.
Pope Leo XIV, the recently appointed leader of the Roman Catholic Church, issued what can be perceived as a public slight towards U.S. Vice President JD Vance, despite Vance’s efforts to display humility and orchestrate a respectful demeanor. What was anticipated to be a moment of spiritual solidarity between the Vatican and the White House transformed into a stark visual representation of estrangement, disapproval, and lingering issues.
Vance, who had arrived in Rome alongside Secretary of State Marco Rubio to represent the United States at the papal inauguration, had hoped this visit would signify a diplomatic renewal. Positioned in the reception line after the mass, with cameras poised and his wife Usha beside him in formal black attire, Vance perhaps anticipated a cordial interaction or even a brief meeting with the new pontiff.
In a rather perfunctory manner, Pope Leo XIV acknowledged the vice president with a brief 17-second handshake, devoid of any significant dialogue. Subsequently, he swiftly shifted his focus to private bilateral discussions with other global leaders, such as Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky and Peruvian President Dina Boluarte, both of whom were afforded lengthy and meaningful conversations.
While brief greetings are commonplace in Vatican protocol, the implications in this instance are quite severe. Pope Leo XIV had just delivered a pointed homily denouncing xenophobia, exploitation, and the marginalization of the impoverished—an unmistakable critique of the immigration policies from the Trump era, which Vance, as Vice President and a steadfast supporter, has ardently defended.
The sermon addressed the transgressions of ‘hatred, violence, prejudice,’ and an economic framework that ‘exploits the Earth’s resources and marginalizes the poorest.’ For those attuned to the subtleties of papal discourse, it was evident that the Pope was directing his message beyond the altar and directly towards the diplomats present, particularly the Americans.
This deliberate aloofness follows a long and fraught relationship between Vance and the Vatican, which deteriorated further during his time in the Trump administration. Before his papal election, then-Cardinal Robert Francis Prevost had shared several social media critiques of Vance, including a scathing op-ed entitled ‘JD Vance is wrong: Jesus doesn’t ask us to rank our love for others.’
The article accused Vance of exploiting Catholic theology to rationalize stringent immigration enforcement and severe deportation measures. Leo XIV also disseminated articles highlighting the humanitarian crises instigated by these policies, especially for those deported to regions afflicted by violence, such as El Salvador. Even prior to Leo’s elevation to the papacy, Vance’s relationship with Church authorities was declining.
In February, the late Pope Francis personally sent a letter to Catholic bishops worldwide, explicitly condemning the use of faith to justify immigration crackdowns. The letter emphasized that deporting individuals escaping poverty, insecurity, or environmental degradation ‘undermines the dignity of many men and women’ and places them in conditions of ‘particular vulnerability.’
Although the criticism was evidently aimed at the Trump administration, Vance perceived it as a personal affront—despite publicly downplaying its significance. ‘I try not to engage in the politicization of the Pope’s statements,’ Vance remarked during a February interview with conservative radio host Hugh Hewitt.
This response appeared to be a diplomatic evasion, possibly intended to mask the profound impact these papal criticisms had on an administration already grappling with its credibility among global religious entities.
The article accused Vance of exploiting Catholic theology to rationalize stringent immigration enforcement and severe deportation measures. Leo XIV also disseminated articles highlighting the humanitarian crises instigated by these policies, especially for those deported to regions afflicted by violence, such as El Salvador. Even prior to Leo’s elevation to the papacy, Vance’s relationship with Church authorities was declining.
In February, the late Pope Francis personally sent a letter to Catholic bishops worldwide, explicitly condemning the use of faith to justify immigration crackdowns. The letter emphasized that deporting individuals escaping poverty, insecurity, or environmental degradation ‘undermines the dignity of many men and women’ and places them in conditions of ‘particular vulnerability.’ Although the criticism was evidently aimed at the Trump administration, Vance perceived it as a personal affront—despite publicly downplaying its significance.
‘I try not to engage in the politicization of the Pope’s statements,’ Vance remarked during a February interview with conservative radio host Hugh Hewitt. This response appeared to be a diplomatic evasion, possibly intended to mask the profound impact these papal criticisms had on an administration already grappling with its credibility among global religious entities.
For Vance, this slight occurs at a politically precarious time. As he navigates his initial term as Vice President, he has increasingly been cast as the spokesperson for Trump’s most contentious policies, particularly those related to immigration and international assistance.
His efforts to gain favor with the Catholic community—despite defending policies that the Church has labeled morally unacceptable—have been unsuccessful. During the ceremony on Sunday, global leaders from Germany, Canada, and Italy were observed engaging amicably with Vatican representatives, while Vance and Rubio appeared largely sidelined, conversing primarily among themselves and their staff.
In Washington, the White House refrained from commenting on whether Vance had sought a longer meeting with the Pope or if such a discussion was ever genuinely contemplated. An anonymous administration official suggested that the Vice President felt let down but had anticipated this result. ‘It is evident that certain messages from the Vatican remain unchanged, regardless of who is in the papal attire,’ the official remarked.
The implications of this snub—particularly at a time when the United States is striving to mend global alliances—could have lasting political repercussions for Vance. It strengthens the view that his approach to hardline politics is becoming increasingly misaligned with both traditional allies and moral leaders.
While Vance may still find support among evangelical Christians and nationalist groups in the U.S., his ties with the wider Catholic Church now appear irreparably damaged. If there was ever a chance for Pope Leo XIV to provide Vance with a means of redemption or reconciliation, the events of Sunday clearly indicated that such forgiveness will not be easily granted.
Instead, the pontiff seems to have established a tone for his papacy that emphasizes moral clarity over political expediency, where gestures, regardless of their piety, are insufficient to absolve complicity. As Vance departed from the Vatican later that day, there were no cheerful photographs, no press releases, and no diplomatic warmth.
Only the sight of a chastened vice president quietly descending the marble steps of a palace that had, mere hours earlier, denied him the welcome he sought. For a man whose political future increasingly hinges on public perception, that silence may resonate more profoundly than any spoken words.
