The National Register portal reports on a commentary by theologian Larry Chapp, who analyzes Pope Leo XIV’s approach to “synodality,” suggesting a shift from Francis-era “listening Church” rhetoric toward episcopal collegiality rooted in Vatican II. While Chapp cautiously welcomes this reorientation, his analysis inadvertently exposes the deeper rot: synodality remains a modernist Trojan horse, merely repackaged, never repudiated. The article also highlights the Synod’s exclusion of orthodox voices like Courage International while platforming dissenters such as Jesuit Father James Martin—a pattern revealing not dialogue but doctrinal subversion.
The Illusion of Reform Within Apostasy
Larry Chapp presents himself as a critic of excesses within the synodal process, particularly the marginalization of faithful Catholic apostolates like Courage International and the elevation of dissenting figures like Cardinal Hollerich and Fr. James Martin. He laments that “the ‘experiences’ of the people of God are curated and filtered by a few synodal leaders to achieve the desired results.” This is an accurate observation—but it stops far short of the necessary conclusion. The problem is not merely *how* synodality was implemented under Francis; synodality itself is the fruit of the conciliar revolution’s rejection of the Church’s divine constitution.
Chapp claims that “by linking synodality with collegiality, Pope Leo seems to be making an important modification.” But this is wishful thinking. Collegiality, as reinterpreted by Vatican II’s Lumen Gentium, was already a departure from the perennial magisterial teaching on papal supremacy. The Council did not “repudiate” the idea that bishops derive their jurisdiction through the Pope; it obscured this truth with ambiguous language that opened the door to conciliarism—the heresy that a general council or collective body of bishops holds authority over the Roman Pontiff.
As St. Robert Bellarmine taught, and as the First Vatican Council definitively declared in Pastor Aeternus: “The Roman Pontiff, when he speaks ex cathedra… possesses, by the divine assistance promised to him in blessed Peter, that infallibility which the divine Redeemer willed his Church to enjoy.” This infallibility is personal, supreme, and immediate—not shared, diluted, or conditioned by episcopal consensus. To speak of “shared governance” as if the Petrine office were merely primus inter pares is to deny the very structure Christ established: “Thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my Church” (Matt. 16:18).
The Myth of the ‘People of God’ as Political Polity
Chapp correctly notes that the synodal process misused the term “people of God” to pit laity against hierarchy. Yet he fails to recognize that this misuse flows directly from the modernist ecclesiology enshrined in Lumen Gentium itself. That document, while containing orthodox passages, introduced a horizontal, sociological understanding of the Church that undermined her supernatural, hierarchical nature. The Church is not a “pilgrimage community” in the vague, existentialist sense; she is the Mystical Body of Christ, a visible society instituted by God, with the Pope as its divinely appointed head.
The 1917 Code of Canon Law (Canon 208) states clearly: “The Church is a society… constituted and organized as a sovereign society.” It is not a democracy, nor a forum for “listening sessions,” but a kingdom—Regnum Christi—whose laws are not subject to majority vote or cultural trends. Pius XI, in Quas Primas, proclaimed that Christ’s kingship extends over all nations and all aspects of life, and that “rulers of states… must fulfill this duty themselves and with their people, if they wish to maintain their authority inviolate.” Synodality, in any form, that treats doctrine as negotiable or subject to “experience” denies this kingship outright.
Doctrinal Immutability vs. the Hermeneutic of Dissent
The article’s treatment of homosexuality reveals the core issue. Chapp defends Courage International and its founder, Fr. John Harvey, praising their fidelity to Church teaching. He rightly criticizes the Synod for platforming a “married” gay man who calls Courage’s adherence to doctrine “cruel.” But he does not go far enough. The very inclusion of such testimonies in an official synodal document implies that Catholic moral teaching is open to revision based on subjective suffering—a direct contradiction of divine law.
The Church has always taught that homosexual acts are “intrinsically disordered” (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 2357), and that persons with same-sex attraction are called to chastity. This is not cruelty; it is mercy, for it directs souls toward their true supernatural end. As St. Paul writes: “Do not be deceived: neither the sexually immoral, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor men who practice homosexuality… will inherit the kingdom of God” (1 Cor. 6:9–10). Any “synodal” process that treats this teaching as oppressive or outdated is not listening to the Holy Spirit—it is echoing the spirit of the age.
Moreover, the exclusion of Courage and inclusion of Fr. James Martin—a known dissenter who has publicly contradicted Church teaching on sexuality—is not an oversight. It is ideological curation. The Synod is not seeking truth; it is manufacturing consent for doctrinal revolution. This is the essence of modernism: the subordination of immutable dogma to the “consciousness” of the faithful, condemned by St. Pius X in Pascendi Dominici Gregis as “the synthesis of all heresies.”
The False Continuity of ‘Adults in the Room’
Chapp expresses confidence that Pope Leo XIV will treat the Synod’s reports with “benign neglect,” signaling a return to “true adults in the room.” This is dangerously naive. Leo XIV is the heir of John XXIII, Paul VI, John Paul I, John Paul II, Benedict XVI, and Francis—all of whom either initiated or failed to reverse the conciliar apostasy. His references to “collegiality” do not signify a return to Tradition; they signify a tactical retreat to a more palatable form of the same revolution.
True reform would require the repudiation of Vatican II’s errors, the restoration of the Tridentine Mass as the normative liturgy, the condemnation of religious liberty as defined in Dignitatis Humanae, and the reassertion of the social kingship of Christ. Instead, Leo XIV offers managerial adjustments within a system designed to dismantle the Faith from within. As Our Lady allegedly warned at Akko: “They want to destroy My Son’s Church.” The synodal process, in all its forms, is a tool of that destruction.
Conclusion: No Reform Without Repentance
The commentary by Larry Chapp, while containing elements of legitimate critique, ultimately operates within the framework of the conciar sect. It assumes that synodality can be “fixed” by better procedures or more orthodox personnel. But the disease is not procedural—it is doctrinal and spiritual. The Church cannot be reformed by those who deny her divine constitution, reject her infallible magisterium, or treat her teachings as hypotheses to be tested by human experience.
Until the hierarchy returns to the unchanging doctrine of the pre-conciliar Church—until it proclaims again that outside the Catholic Church there is no salvation, that the Mass is a propitiatory sacrifice, and that Christ the King must reign over all nations—there can be no true synodality, no authentic collegiality, and no hope of renewal. What we see in Leo XIV is not a correction but a continuation: the abomination of desolation, now dressed in the language of governance.
Extra Ecclesiam nulla salus. Outside the Church, there is no salvation—and no synodality worth the name.
Source:
What Is Synodality? Pope Leo Has a Chance to Clarify It (ncregister.com)
Date: 18.06.2026