Pillar Catholic portal reports on JD Flynn’s commentary regarding the newly promulgated encyclical *Magnifica humanitas* by Leo XIV, alongside reflections on St. Philip Neri and the Society of St. Pius X’s impending episcopal consecrations. The article presents the encyclical as a foundational but incomplete ethical framework for engaging with artificial intelligence, emphasizing dialogue with Silicon Valley while sidestepping critical theological questions about human intellect and divine sovereignty. Flynn’s personal anecdote about weight loss through medical technology serves as a metaphor for broader questions about human agency—a theme he claims the encyclical fails to address adequately. The piece also notes the SSPX’s planned illicit consecrations, framing them as a definitive rupture with ecclesiastical communion, yet expresses surprise that Leo XIV has not exercised stricter canonical measures to invalidate such acts. This entire discourse unfolds within a modernist paradigm that reduces the Church’s prophetic mission to pragmatic accommodation, betraying the integral Catholic understanding of human dignity, grace, and the supernatural order.
The Encyclical as Neo-Church Diplomacy: Dialogue Over Doctrine
The presentation of *Magnifica humanitas* in this article exemplifies the post-conciliar Church’s preference for diplomatic engagement over doctrinal clarity. Rather than issuing a definitive moral condemnation of technologies that erode human reason or facilitate sin, the encyclical is framed as an “introduction” aimed at continuing a “conversation” with Silicon Valley. Fr. Brendan McGuire’s statement—“AI companies ‘are asking us “can you help us?”… So I think we have to meet them where they’re at’”—reveals a Church more concerned with relevance than truth. This is not the voice of the Magisterium defending the deposit of faith; it is the language of a bureaucratic institution seeking legitimacy in secular corridors of power.
Pope St. Pius X, in *Lamentabili sane exitu*, condemned the proposition that “the Church, in condemning errors, has no right to require any internal assent from the faithful” (Proposition 7). Yet here, the encyclical is offered not as a binding teaching but as a discussion starter—precisely the kind of latitudinarianism Pius IX anathematized in the *Syllabus of Errors*: “The Roman Pontiff can, and ought to, reconcile himself, and come to terms with progress, liberalism and modern civilization” (Proposition 80). Leo XIV’s approach mirrors this condemned error, treating divine revelation as negotiable in the face of technological “progress.”
Moreover, the silence on intellectual property, mechanistic outsourcing of thought, and the degradation of the human intellect reflects a naturalistic anthropology foreign to Catholic teaching. The Church has always affirmed that the human person is created *ad imaginem Dei*, endowed with intellect and will ordered toward God. To outsource “frequent thinking” to machines is not merely a practical concern—it is a violation of the natural law, which demands that man exercise his God-given faculties in pursuit of truth and virtue. As St. Thomas Aquinas taught, *“Ratio est animae forma”*—reason is the form of the soul. To surrender it to algorithms is to mutilate the imago Dei.
St. Philip Neri: Sanctity Weaponized for Sentimentality
The hagiographical sketch of St. Philip Neri, while factually accurate in broad strokes, is deployed in this article not to inspire conversion or penance, but to model a comfortable, humorous, and socially acceptable form of holiness. Flynn admires Neri for being “funny” and wishes to be remembered the same way—a desire that reveals a profoundly worldly metric of sanctity. True holiness, as understood by the Church before 1958, is measured not by popularity or wit but by fidelity to God’s law, mortification, and the salvation of souls.
Neri’s mystical experience—the fiery globe entering his heart—was not a personality quirk but a divine transformation that led him to found the Oratory, preach penance, and hear confessions for hours. His humor served humility, yes, but always ordered toward the supernatural end of man. In contrast, Flynn’s celebration of Neri’s humor as an end in itself reflects the modernist tendency to reduce sanctity to humanistic virtue. This is the same error condemned by St. Pius X in *Pascendi Dominici Gregis*: the reduction of religion to “sentiment” and “experience” rather than objective truth and obedience.
Furthermore, the article’s focus on Neri’s “winsome” personality and ability to make “a nobleman’s son sit and talk easily with prostitutes” risks sentimentalizing charity at the expense of doctrine. The Church has always taught that true charity includes fraternal correction and the call to repentance—not merely making sinners “feel comfortable.” As St. Augustine wrote, *“Non est misericordia peccatum corrigere”*—it is not mercy to leave a sin unchallenged.
The SSPX: Schism Cemented, But the Real Crisis Ignored
The article rightly identifies the SSPX’s planned episcopal consecrations as a formal act of schism, noting that these bishops will be excommunicated and that their disobedience is now “black-and-white.” However, the analysis remains trapped within the conciliar ecclesiology that recognizes Leo XIV as the legitimate Supreme Pontiff. From the perspective of integral Catholic faith, the crisis is not merely that the SSPX is breaking with Leo XIV—but that Leo XIV himself lacks the authority to command obedience, having ascended to the Chair of Peter through a series of invalid elections tainted by manifest heresy.
As St. Robert Bellarmine taught, “a Pope who is a manifest heretic, by that very fact ceases to be Pope and head” (*De Romano Pontifice*, II.30). The post-conciliar occupants of the Vatican have consistently promoted doctrines condemned by the pre-1958 Magisterium: religious liberty (*Dignitatis Humanae*), ecumenism (*Unitatis Redintegratio*), and the evolution of dogma—all of which were explicitly rejected in the *Syllabus of Errors* and *Lamentabili*. Therefore, Leo XIV is not the true Pope, and his “direct orders” carry no jurisdictional weight. The SSPX’s disobedience to him is not schism from the Church—it is disobedience to a usurper. Yet even this distinction is lost on Flynn, who operates entirely within the neo-church’s self-referential logic.
Flynn’s suggestion that Leo XIV could canonically restrict episcopal consecrations to prevent future schisms reveals a fundamental misunderstanding of the Church’s divine constitution. The Church is not a corporation whose bylaws can be amended at will. The power of orders flows from Christ, not from papal legislation. While the pope can regulate the exercise of jurisdiction, he cannot alter the sacramental character itself. More importantly, the solution to the crisis is not tighter canonical controls but a return to the unchanging faith that alone preserves unity.
Technology and the Illusion of Moral Agency
Flynn’s personal reflection on losing 65 pounds through “emerging medical technology” raises profound questions—but only if framed correctly. He describes the experience as “transformative” yet “confounding,” challenging his perception of “human will and human agency.” But from the standpoint of Catholic theology, human agency is not an autonomous force; it is always subordinate to grace. *“Sine me nihil potestis facere”*—“Without Me you can do nothing” (John 15:5). Any technological aid that fosters dependence, dulls the intellect, or substitutes for virtuous habit undermines the moral life.
The Church has always warned against placing created things above the Creator. Pius XI, in *Quas Primas*, declared that Christ’s kingship extends over all aspects of life, including science and technology: “His reign encompasses also all non-Christians, so that most truly the entire human race is subject to the authority of Jesus Christ.” To treat AI as a neutral tool, rather than a potential instrument of spiritual deception or moral evasion, is to ignore the reality of original sin and the constant need for grace.
Flynn’s weight loss, however commendable physically, becomes spiritually ambiguous if it relies on technology that diminishes personal responsibility or fosters pride in self-mastery. True asceticism—fasting, prayer, mortification—is not merely about health but about conforming the will to God’s. The saints did not use apps or medical interventions to grow in virtue; they used the sacraments, especially Confession and the Most Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. Flynn’s narrative, by contrast, reflects the post-conciliar obsession with “self-improvement” detached from supernatural grace—a hallmark of the cult of man condemned by every pope before John XXIII.
Conclusion: The Bankruptcy of the Conciliar Project
This article, like so much of post-conciliar discourse, oscillates between superficial piety and profound theological confusion. It venerates a saint while draining his life of supernatural meaning. It acknowledges schism while refusing to name its root cause. It celebrates human agency while ignoring the necessity of divine grace. And it promotes an encyclical that speaks of “magnificent humanity” without once affirming that humanity’s magnificence lies solely in its redemption by Christ the King.
The path forward is not more dialogue with Silicon Valley, not clever canonical fixes, not sentimental hagiography. It is a return to the unchanging truth: *“Regnare Christum volumus”*—“We want Christ to reign.” Until the structures occupying the Vatican repent of their modernist apostasy and submit to the integral Catholic faith, no encyclical, however “foundational,” will restore what has been lost. The faithful must seek the true Church—the one founded on Peter, preserved by the saints, and guided by the Holy Ghost—not the abomination of desolation that now calls itself Catholic.
Source:
St. Philip, the encyclical and (my) human agency (pillarcatholic.com)
Date: 26.05.2026