JD Vance, who takes this more literally than most who have served before him, can’t take a piss without Donald Trump’s say so.
Trump got in a metaphorical pissing match with the Pope about his arbitrary war and the thousands of needless deaths. The Pope advocated for peace, and Trump, whose theological background derives from Norman Vincent Peale and the prosperity gospel, advocates for whatever will enrich himself and his supporters. Don’t think he’s forgotten his idea of a toll booth across the Strait of Hormuz from which the United States and ultimately he will get a cut.
There is a smugness that appears when a politician discovers Catholicism late in life and immediately decides he’s ready to offer performance notes to the Vatican. Vance has positioned himself as someone prepared to caution the Pope about what the pontiff should or shouldn’t say. Vance is still in the “new member welcome packet” phase of his spiritual journey. And what if the Pope disregards Vance’s advice to “be careful?” Be careful sounds like a threat. Will Trump now impose tariffs on Vatican City State? Or will he take over the Vatican, adding it to his list alongside Greenland, Canada, Panama, and Cuba?
On one side is the papacy: an office rooted in two thousand years of apostolic succession, theological tradition, and global pastoral authority. On the other hand, a rookie Catholic whose public religious identity is young enough to still be in spiritual training wheels. Yet somehow, Vance is publicly suggesting that the leader of 1.3 billion Catholics should be more “careful” when discussing migration, poverty, or global inequality.
Pope Leo has spent decades working directly with the poor, the displaced, and the marginalized. His statements on these issues are not impulsive political riffs; they are grounded in Catholic social teaching that predates the United States by centuries. Vance owes all that he has to one man’s riches. Not Trump, who hardly gives away his money so randomly. But Peter Thiel, no relation to the Apostle Peter. Thiel buys up politicians who will do his bidding, and Vance, with no moral backbone of his own, fits right in. Thiel bought Vance his Senate seat, without which he couldn’t have become Vice President.
Catholics have disagreed with popes since the ink dried on the Acts of the Apostles, and Vance certainly has that right. The audacity is the speed and confidence with which a recent convert assumes the role of papal chaperone. The Church expects formation to unfold over decades: study, sacrament, community, humility. What it does not typically expect is a political figure treating the papacy like a campaign surrogate who needs to stay on script.
In the end, the spectacle of a newly Catholic politician cautioning the Pope reads like a case study in arrogance. Vance is writing a book about his conversion to Catholicism, which in his mind makes him an even greater expert. Every vice president is expected to support the president they serve and not publicly contradict them. What they aren’t expected to do is sell their soul and criticize the leader of their faith.
There was a time in American history when Catholics were feared. The Klan hated Catholics. During the Second Klan (1915–1940s), anti‑Catholic hatred was central to its platform. The Klan portrayed Catholics as: un‑American, loyal to a foreign power (the Pope), threats to Protestant democracy, agents of “Romanism” supposedly undermining the U.S.
There was always going to be a conflict between the MAGA forces he hopes to control and the religion his white supremacist base fears. There were concerns about America’s first Catholic president, John F. Kennedy, that he might be beholden to the Pope rather than to American interests. JD Vance has proved himself beholden to Donald Trump.
Heaven help us all.