An Examination of Conscience for a Jaded Francis Reader

I confess, as a conservative-minded Catholic, that I read the news of Pope Francis’ most recent missive with a healthy dose of annoyance. Why does this pope, who had little but silence or scorn for American politics over the last 10 years, choose to take formal action now, with this President, over this issue? And why, when he at last does act, does he do so in such an imprecise and ultimately unhelpful way?

The answers to these questions seem obvious to the jaded conservative, even as they’re predictably debated in Catho-Land. Maybe the pope really was well meaning and actually upholds Catholic teaching. Maybe he’s undermining traditional religious ideas and commonsense politics. The pope’s interpretation will continue to be argued for a while longer—as will the properly “Catholic” response to such a complicated practical and moral issue as immigration.  

It’s easy to launch into analysis of the pope’s words and intentions. It’s also easy to get frustrated at the timing and ambiguity of it all. But that timing itself has an Ignatian quality to it (in the sense before that word became a pejorative). 

The most famous legacy of the Jesuits, the Examen, prays over the events of the day as they happened. Not as they could have happened, or how we wish they happened, but as they actually happened, detecting God’s Providence in the realities of our existence. 

As it goes in our own experience, so it goes in the experience of the Church. There’s something to be learned from the pope’s actions, timing, and even (as I suspect this is) missteps—not necessarily because the pope is trying to teach us but because God always is. 

So, this letter should prompt us to an examination of conscience—especially, I would add, to us conservatives to whom it seems most directed, because there is rot within our ranks and within our hearts. New York Times columnist Ross Douthat pointed to it as early as 2019—we have been far too blasé about our conditions and moral responsibilities to migrants.

I, for one, am guilty as any other. Immigration is not (as yet) a big problem in my little corner of Appalachia; and my passions burn much brighter for the economic, DEI, and foreign policy issues that erode my community. Other conservatives are the opposite, latching on to Trump precisely because of his strong opposition to the unregulated migrations that are destroying their communities.

But either approach threatens to overlook serious moral issues. Focusing on outcomes of lower numbers of migrants, or on other conservative policies, can risk ignoring important questions about the way we enforce immigration law, or even about the quality of the law as it now stands. Migrants and illegal aliens are still people, after all, and so—regardless of where they fall in the “order of love”—they bind us to Christian charity. Focusing on outcomes of lower numbers of migrants, or on other conservative policies, can risk ignoring important questions about the way we enforce immigration law, or even about the quality of the law as it now stands.Tweet This

Examining ourselves does not take away from the legitimacy of Trump’s policy goals to curb illegal immigration and strengthen national security. It should actually strengthen their coherence and force, by seriously asking how they can be better implemented in line with God’s desires for our country.

And this examination has to come from within our ranks. 

There have been plenty of liberal voices in opposition to Trump since 2016. Many of these voices have disseminated lies and misdirection or peddled false alternatives. Many Trump enthusiasts feel under attack; some have literally been killed. In this environment, criticism can seem unhelpful and self-reflection a tool of the enemy.

But conservatives, at least of the MAGA variety, are in a position of strength. Trump’s second term has already been different. Unlike 2016, he’s not swinging from his back foot; he has come out running hard from day one. He won the popular vote. Corporations are appeasing him. MAGA is ascendent, and everyone can feel it. And it’s in this strength that caution is most needed and reflection most valuable. A balloon needs the tether most at its highest point. And conservativism, however it changes after Trump, needs thoughtfulness now to avoid teetering off the pedestal.

This is the task occasioned by Pope Francis’ letter. Whether the content actually is about the heart or not, we have an opportunity as a polity to prayerfully reflect. Most of us won’t have an impact on Trump himself, or our government apparatuses. But, like the Examen, we start with our own hearts either way.

Why do I advocate the border policies that I do? Can I imagine possible injustices in our new government’s policies? Are there any possible abuses? Do I dehumanize legal or illegal immigrants in my thoughts, language, or online activity? Are any migrants being treated unfairly? Do I care, honestly? 

These questions are less obvious, and more uncomfortable, than those about Pope Francis’ letter or own personal motivations. But they are not any less important.

Like it or not, immigration has become central to our historical moment. The rise of Trump, European populism, and even the pope’s own recent actions indicate our Church and society will face more choices about migration, just as we already did in the 2024 election. As a voter, a citizen, a worker, or at least as a Catholic, those choices will come to us personally in one way or another.We can make the correct choice in terms of policy and political goals and still make the choice in the wrong way, or with the wrong heart, or with the wrong particulars. Pope Francis offers us a chance to reflect; and that’s a valuable offering, even to his jaded readers.