As I have discussed here, I am a proud Protestant. I was raised Lutheran, and am now Episcopalian. While there is some variation among Episcopalians and Anglicans over whether they see themselves as Protestant, both my birth and adopted traditions are united in a rejection of the Pope’s—or as some call him, the Bishop of Rome’s—authority.

And as a fan of medieval and early modern history, I always vicariously sided with the political leaders who stood up to the Roman Catholic church. I even named one of my first articles after an argument attributed to Frederick II on the need to separate secular and spiritual authority. One of my first jobs post-grad school was running a study on religious freedom at the Pew Research Center, which considered any policy supporting religion a restriction on that freedom. And much of my early work looked at the bad stuff that happened when religion and state mixed. My latest book is in part a warning about attempts to use religion as a tool in power politics.

At the same time, I support the inclusion of religion in politics. While most of my work has been a warning about religion’s ties to the states, I built off of scholars like Jose Casanova and Daniel Philpott who argued religion’s public role can pose a positive moral challenge to leaders. The flip-side of my work on religious freedom is that people of faith should be allowed to express themselves and participate in the political process. And my current project is exploring the beneficial impacts religious peacebuilders have, even if they do not produce a formal peace treaty.

All that is to say that, as Pope Leo XIV challenges the Trump Administration’s holy justification for its war on Iran and Trump lashes out in response, I feel confused. I agree with the content of Pope Leo’s argument, but am wary of those defending him by saying Trump needs to respect the wisdom and authority of a holy man. However, I am also concerned by Trump officials arguing the Pope shouldn’t comment on political matters. So what is a Protestant to do?

Moral authority and religious leaders’ influence

Ultimately, this comes down to the moral authority of religious leaders. Where does it come from, and to where does it extend? Does an argument from the Pope matter because he’s the Pope? Or should the response be similar to my response when my political theory colleagues quote Tocqueville or Kant as evidence in a debate: why should I care what they said?

The pre-modern idea of moral authority was that it resided within religious leaders—specifically the Pope—because he was the Pope. His authority descended from Jesus via St. Peter, the first Bishop of Rome, and thus he was God’s representative on earth. The Protestant Reformation and the Enlightenment did away with that, although—as I’ve discussed—pushback was apparent earlier on among Roman Catholics, such as in Dante’s Divine Comedy. But I see echoes of it in people who responded to Trump’s attacks with shock that he would question the Pope on religious matters.

The moral authority of religious leaders can be squandered through ill-thought out interventions in politics, and must be sustained with beneficial actions

I think people forget there were Popes before Francis. Pope John Paul II did a lot of good for the world in standing up to Communism and supporting the poor. But there were also issues, like his failure to address the sexual abuse scandal and his conservative pronouncements on abortion, birth control and homosexuality. And he was followed by Benedict, who was even more conservative. Should people who spoke out against these Popes be denounced for daring to question Roman authority?

Obviously, Leo’s defenders would say this is different. But different in what way? I don’t think they can answer that question beyond “I agree with this Pope,” but that’s not a very valid argument.

This is where the idea of moral authority comes from. As Anna Grzymala-Busse discussed, religious organizations gain moral authority when “nation and religion” are “fused as a popular identity.” This results in political leaders being afraid of offending the religious group—giving them rhetorical influence—and the group gaining some institutional access. She notes that while no one Christian denomination has a dominant role in the United States, the “abstract myths of the religious character of the nation” create the type of fusion that results in moral authority of religion.

Thus, in the United States, Christian leaders gain some respect and influence due just to their status as leaders. Even though most US Christians are not Roman Catholic, the Pope is especially prominent as no other denomination has as internationally visible a leader.

But, as Grzymala-Busse, notes, this influence is not automatic. It is a “brittle resource,” which leaders can destroy through “self-interested, parochial or local interests.”

Religious leaders, like the Pope, have some degree of moral authority just due to their position. But in the modern era this authority can be squandered through ill-thought out interventions in politics, and must be sustained with beneficial actions.

The Pope’s arguments

This brings us back to why I, a proud Protestant, support the Pope, and why I worry about some of the defenses of his arguments.

I don’t support him because he is the Pope. I respect him as someone devoted to our shared faith. And I agree with what he’s saying, which is based on sound Christian doctrine. This is best put by the statement of the Archbishop of Canterbury Sarah Mullally, the head of the Anglican Communion:

I stand with my brother in Christ, His Holiness Pope Leo XIV, in his courageous call for a kingdom of peace. As innocent people are killed and displaced, families torn apart, and futures destroyed, the human cost of war is incalculable. It is the calling of every Christian – and of all people of faith and goodwill – to work and pray for peace. We must also urge all those entrusted with political authority to pursue every possible peaceful and just means of resolving conflict….Our shared humanity has long inspired peacemakers across generations, whether Christian or not.

She agreed with the Pope due to their shared faith, but also because of the content of his message and the fact that his message is universal and not dependent on accepting the particular authority of a certain religious group.

Those who say Trump is wrong to criticize the Pope because he is the Pope are relying on his moral authority to win a partisan political battle

And I think this is a sentiment the Pope himself would agree with. As always, it’s best to go back to what he actually said:

Stability and peace are not built with mutual threats, nor with weapons, which sow destruction, pain, and death, but only through a reasonable, authentic, and responsible dialogue…Faced with the possibility of a tragedy of enormous proportions, I address to the parties involved a heartfelt appeal to assume the moral responsibility to stop the spiral of violence before it becomes an irreparable abyss!

Pope Leo later expanded this, specifically criticizing Trump’s threat to destroy the Iranian civilization and tying this to his Easter sermon:

Today, as we all know, there has also been this threat against the entire people of Iran. And this is truly unacceptable! There are certainly issues of international law here, but even more, it is a moral question concerning the good of the people as a whole, in its entirety.

He is not claiming authority over Trump as the Pope. He is not defending the Vatican’s power to declare what is right and wrong. He is not telling Americans that they need to vote for Democrats (despite conspiracy theories about his meeting with David Axelrod). He is cautioning the path of Trump and other leaders based on the Scripture they claim to follow. Trump officials and supporting who claim the Pope shouldn’t comment on politics are both wrong and side-stepping his actual critiques.

And that is why I worry about those saying Trump is wrong to criticize the Pope because he is the Pope. They’re relying on the moral authority of the Pope to win in a partisan political battle, which threatens to undermine that authority. It also creates a dangerous precedent for future religious-secular clashes.