Pope Leo XIV’s first sit-down interview has largely been received without a stir. From the mainstream media to Catholic conservatives (and even some traditionalists), the main takeaway is that the Pope is primarily concerned with Church unity and no big shake-ups should be expected.

That this is the widespread reaction is something to take note of.

Not just because the days of papal bombshells being dropped during interviews or in-flight press conferences, a hallmark of Pope Francis, appear to be over.

But because during his conversation with Crux’s Elise Allen, Pope Leo said some things that, if uttered by Pope Francis, would have likely generated widespread controversy.

And yet, when spoken by Leo, they didn’t. And it’s worth considering why.

For instance, consider what the American-born Pope had to say about the Church’s teaching on sexuality and marriage: “I think we have to change attitudes before we even think about changing what the Church says about any given question. I find it highly unlikely, certainly in the near future, that the Church’s doctrine in terms of what the Church teaches about sexuality, what the Church teaches about marriage, [will change].” 

If Pope Francis said that doctrinal changes in these areas were unlikely on the basis of needing to follow some kind of ecclesial order of operations — and not because of the fundamental immutability of these teachings — there would have been a media firestorm. Headlines would’ve seized on the quote, emphasizing that Francis was potentially open to so-called “gay marriage," albeit not “in the near future.”

But aside from the usual suspects, like LGBTQ activist and Jesuit Father James Martin on the one hand and some traditionalists on the other, few seemed interested in pushing Pope Leo’s rhetoric in that direction.

Why not?

Yes, Leo said much more on the topic during the interview, affirming the idea that the West is “fixated” on sexual identity, that LGBTQ-identifying people should be welcomed as sons and daughters of God and not because they identify themselves as gays or lesbians, and that the Church needs to continue to focus on the “traditional family” and marriage. 

But similar context didn’t prevent the media from framing Pope Francis’ famous 2013 line, “Who am I to judge?” as a bombshell hinting at sweeping changes to the Church’s approach to sexual morality — despite the fact that Francis cited the St. John Paul II-approved Catechism and its prohibition of unjust discrimination as the basis for his comment and reaffirmed the sinfulness of same-sex sexual acts.

The different treatment of the two popes’ rhetoric is even clearer when we look at how Pope Leo discussed the hypothetical “ordination of women” to the diaconate in his recent interview. 

The Holy Father said that “at the moment” he does not “have an intention of changing the teaching of the Church on the topic”— again, not emphasizing that the Church cannot sacramentally ordain women to the diaconate because the Church is incapable of doing so. He then said that before such a question could be considered, the Church would need to reflect on what the diaconate actually is, while raising concerns that “clericalizing” women by ordaining them is likely not the answer.

By contrast, when Francis was asked by CBS News’ Norah O’Donnell in 2024 if the Church would ever ordain women to the diaconate, he had a one-word answer: “No.”

And yet, Pope Francis was widely perceived as leaving the door open for efforts to push for women’s ordination to continue, while the same sort of assessment is not being attributed to Leo, despite his more open-ended comments.

Again, why?

Part of the divergence is obvious: Pope Leo is a different man than Pope Francis. He is a cautious and deliberate Midwesterner, whereas Francis was a more impulsive and provocative Argentinian. Under Francis, there was the perception that “anything is possible” that doesn’t seem to apply to Leo.

But the difference goes deeper than personality. More fundamentally, both popes used the first few months of their respective papacies to establish different narratives of how they understood their role. In turn, each pope’s respective narrative provided (or in the case of Leo, continues to provide) the overarching interpretive key for framing the significance of  their words.

Francis positioned himself right from the get-go as a reformer. His “Who am I to judge?” line, for instance, came right after he famously told attendees at World Youth Day 2013 in Rio De Janiero to “make a mess.” A major theme of his pontificate was disruption and restarting conversations that had seemingly been settled for decades. Therefore, any ambiguity in his words or any failure to affirm perennial doctrine was seen by many as a potential opening for dramatic shifts.

Leo, by contrast, has focused primarily on fostering Church unity. He is less interested in shaking things up and more intent on settling them down. He has also acknowledged how polarizing the so-called “hot-button issues” can be and has made clear that his overarching goal is to lower the Church’s internal temperature. As a result, even when he appears to be ambiguous or open-ended, it’s far less convincing to suggest that his words signal an openness to change.

These narratives have been reinforced with associated symbols and gestures. Francis broke convention liturgically and in terms of papal formality, while Leo has leaned back into tradition and a broader sense of continuity. The mainstream media has largely followed these cues accordingly. While they were quick to frame Francis as a figure who was aligned with generally progressive tendencies (despite all the ways in which he wasn’t), there is a sense in which they still don’t know what to make of Leo.

Of course, timing matters, too. If Leo had made his comments about teaching on sexuality and ordination in March 2013, after the reign of the crystal-clear Benedict XVI, it’s likely that his words would have prompted controversy. But after the tumultuous pontificate of Francis? Not so much. 

Some might say the lack of a reaction to Leo’s comments is because Francis moved the goalposts, and many are now “desensitized” to a pope seemingly suggesting that things that were previously thought to be firmly settled, like the Church’s teaching on sexuality and male-only holy orders, might, in fact, be potentially alterable.

But another possibility is that precisely because of the instability inherited by Leo, and an overarching desire for more normalcy in the life of the Church, a variety of actors are hesitant to frame the Pope’s comments in a controversial light — especially after he has made gestures of reconciliation toward those who were marginalized by Francis, such as supporters of the traditional Latin Mass.

Pope Leo’s successful framing of himself as a unifier not only explains why his comments didn’t generate the kind of reaction they would have if Francis had said them. It also gives a good explanation for why he might have answered the questions about women’s ordination and LGBTQ issues the way that he did in the first place.

It is hypothetically possible that Leo did not say that Church teaching on marriage and/or ordination are fundamentally unchangeable because he does not actually believe that’s the case. But a more compelling explanation is that he chose his words because he determined they were the best way to lower expectations for change without necessarily pushing away those who have come to expect it as a possibility. 

Again, counteracting polarization and fostering unity are the interpretive keys. Under this interpretation, Leo employed a rhetorical strategy that raised all sorts of reasons for why pursuing doctrinal changes in these areas wouldn’t be a good idea but stopped short of appealing to definitive magisterial teaching that might have “settled” the debate but left some unconvinced.

One indication of why this might be true is Leo’s reference to the danger of “clericalizing women” via ordination. This was a rhetorical strategy that opponents of women’s ordination used during the Synod on Synodality to great effect. Why? Because it used progressive’s concerns with “clericalism” to rhetorically undermine their push to ordain women. It met advocates for change on their own terms and suggested reasons for them to reconsider.

The fact that Leo is now employing the same kind of language as opponents of women’s ordination at the Synod on Synodality should probably be taken as an indication that he shares the same conclusion, rather than that he is somehow hypothetically open to the possibility of change on something so fundamental.

Some have suggested that the Chicago native is employing the classic Midwestern tactic of avoiding confrontation by being open-ended, with his “not right now” effectively being a “No.”

Of course, some are likely to question whether this kind of approach is really what’s best for Church unity in the long haul. After all, as the Second Vatican Council taught, real unity requires the profession of the same faith, which divergent understandings of the sacraments of marriage and holy orders, and sexual morality, would seemingly threaten.

The long-term effectiveness of this approach under Leo, if it indeed is part of his broader push for unity, will certainly be scrutinized. What’s clear, however, is that judging by the non-reaction of the Church and the media to Pope Leo’s comments — the kind of comments that would’ve ignited a firestorm under Francis — we are in a very different moment with a very different pope.

At the end of the day, it is a demonstration of the fact that even for popes, the “how,” “when” and “who” of a message are just as important as the “what.”

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This article was originally published on the National Catholic Register.