The conclave to elect a new pope has, naturally, unleashed a deluge of commentary in both Catholic and secular media. Everyone from laypeople to cardinal-electors inside of the Church — and everyone from X anons to the president of the United States outside of it — has been opining on what should or will happen and analyzing the ecclesiastical and geopolitical implications of different outcomes.

In this tense and talkative time, it’s advisable to take a step back, draw a deep breath, and begin with a more basic question: What are popes for anyway? What’s this all about? 

And the best place to begin answering it is the Catechism of the Catholic Church — specifically Paragraphs 880-892, which largely quote from the dogmatic constitution of the Church, Lumen Gentium, 22-25. There, three salient points emerge.  

 

Catechism, 880-881: The pope is the head of the bishops.

First, the Catechism tells us that the pope is to the bishops what Simon was to the apostles — that is, their “head.” As St. Peter had primacy over the apostolic college, the successor of Peter has primacy over the episcopal college. The Catechism naturally makes reference here to the famous passage in Matthew in which the Lord says to Simon, “You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church” (Matthew 16:18). The “office of binding and loosing,” it goes on to clarify, belongs not only to Peter but also “to the college of apostles united to its head.” But “Simon alone,” in and through his confession of Christ’s Sonship, is the “rock.”

What do these two metaphors, the “rock” and the “head,” tell us about the papacy? The first clearly conveys the qualities of strength and steadfastness. But with regard to what? Earlier in Matthew’s Gospel, in the parable about the wise man who builds his house on rock instead of sand, Jesus tells us: hearing the words of Christ and acting on them (Matthew 7:26). This is why Peter is the rock: Despite his weaknesses, he’s strong in Christ’s word. So, too, his successors: And when the rain, floods and winds arrive — the times of trial, tribulation and confusion — the Church stands strong upon them. But the pope is also a “living stone” (1 Peter 2:4-5); he isn’t meant to be stuck in place like a boulder, but alive like the mind. Thus the second image: The Vicar of Christ guards and guides the Body of Christ, helping it grow and adapt to the world around it. The papacy is both static and dynamic: It holds fast to eternal verities but also deals with the world as it is.  

 

Catechism, 882-887: The pope is the “visible source and foundation of unity.”

The second key thing the Catechism tells us about the pope is that he is “the perpetual and visible source and foundation of the unity both of the bishops and of the whole company of the faithful.” The Catholic Church is truly catholic, in the literal sense of the word — kata holos, “according to the whole” — and encompasses a dizzying array of cultures and languages, perspectives and priorities, charisms and temperaments. Even the early Church, as we see in the New Testament, was ever at war with itself over doctrinal and organizational matters. How does the whole operation keep from splintering apart into a million pieces? It would be difficult to answer that question without reference to the pope — a single, living voice of authority to whom the whole Church can finally look for definition and direction. To be in communion with the Church is to be in communion with the bishops, insofar as they’re in communion with the bishop of Rome.

There is, of course, an invisible and far more important principle of unity for the Church: the Holy Spirit (Catechism, 813). But the Church, like her head, is both invisible and visible, both divine and human; thus, she needs a visible principle too. So vital is the pope’s role in maintaining Church unity that he has “full, supreme, and universal power over the whole Church, a power which he can always exercise unhindered.” The College of Bishops, too, has “supreme and full authority,” but can’t exercise that power “without the agreement of the Roman Pontiff.” In other words, the buck stops with the rock, and the head has the last word. If the Church is to remain one, as Christ prayed it would (John 17:22), it’s difficult to see how it could be otherwise; the only alternative, as the past 500 years attests, is the brutal fragmentation of the faithful. 

 

Catechism 882-887: The pope teaches doctrinal truth and wards off doctrinal error.

But what is it exactly that this living stone, this source of unity, does? Here we come to the heart of the matter. The first task of the bishops is “to preach the Gospel of God to all men” as “authentic teachers” of the apostolic faith “endowed with the authority of Christ.” But how can the Church resolve its own internal disagreements and controversies regarding that Gospel message? Again, as the past centuries amply demonstrate, Scripture alone won’t suffice.  

Thus, we have the magisterium — the teaching office of the Church (magister meaning “teacher”) — which is the “the pope and the bishops in communion with him” (Catechism, 100): “It is this Magisterium’s task to preserve God’s people from deviations and defections and to guarantee them the objective possibility of professing the true faith without error.” This duty is safeguarded by “the charism of infallibility in matters of faith and morals,” which is exercised when the pope, or by an ecumenical council under the headship of a pope, definitively proclaims a doctrine (supreme magisterium). “Divine assistance” is also given to the bishops — “and, in a particular way, to the bishop of Rome” — when they teach without solemnly defining doctrine (ordinary magisterium). The first kind of teaching, which usually emerges in response to some great theological crisis, requires the assent of faith by the people of God; the second, which is more “business as usual” in the life of the Church, requires “religious assent.” In both forms of teaching, the pope might be likened, as Bishop Barron has pointed out, to a kind of referee: When necessary, he blows the whistle and makes tough calls; otherwise, he monitors and regulates the flow of Christian life and thought, enforcing and reinforcing its rules of Scripture and Tradition. 

 

In Conclusion 

This, then — love it or leave it — is what popes are for, according to the Catechism: keeping the bishops in step, keeping the Church intact, and keeping the faith in truth. 

It’s worth noting, in conclusion, what the Catechism doesn’t say about the pope. It doesn’t say he has to be a media-savvy rock star or a cultural mover and shaker —though that would be great, especially in the digital age. It doesn’t say he has to be a brilliant intellectual — though that would help, especially in the arena of teaching. It doesn’t even say he has to be a living saint — though that would be wonderful, especially as holiness is the ultimate goal of every baptized Christian (and the pope is, after all, the “Holy Father”). 

The late 20th and early-21st centuries have given us an embarrassment of riches in the papacy — great, brilliant, holy popes — but has it also warped our understanding of, and expectations for, the successor of Peter? Sainthood is a prime example: We now have Sts. John XXIII, Paul VI and John Paul II in living memory, as well as Blessed John Paul I — not to mention all the beautiful, loving gestures of Pope Francis. Yet, of the 266 men who have served as pope, only 83 have been formally canonized — and this includes the first 35, most of whom were martyred. Again, this isn’t to say that popes shouldn’t be saintly or that the public modeling of sanctity doesn’t matter. But have we grown accustomed to hoisting weights on the papal tiara — not only spiritual or ecclesial, but also cultural and political — it was never meant to carry? In the process, have we lost the plot of why we hoisted up the pope in the first place? And have we given fresh ammunition to those who always said that the pope is just a worldly distraction of personality cult and power plays? 

As we eagerly await the appearance of the next bishop of Rome on the loggia, it might be wise to block out all the noise and attend to this passage from the Catechism, and to hope and pray, above all, for a man perfectly poised to fulfill the three great duties of his office in 2025 and beyond — even if that means a “boring” pope in the eyes of the world. 

Otherwise, what are popes for? 

 

Matthew Becklo is a husband and father, writer and editor, and the publishing director for Word on Fire Catholic Ministries. His first book, The Way of Heaven and Earth: From Either/Or to the Catholic Both/And, was released in 2025.