I keep hearing that the pews are filling up again. According to Misryoum, some young men are drifting toward the church lately, specifically looking for “truth, beauty, discipline” and—let’s be honest—maybe a pretty girl at Mass. It’s a bit of a cliché, I suppose, but maybe that’s not the whole story. In a world defined by mindless scrolling and digital noise, walking into a physical space feels… different.
There’s a smell of incense and old wood that hits you when you walk in, a sensory break from the endless, sharp edges of social media. It signals something deeper than just dating prospects; it’s a desire for a moral universe. When our political leaders seem to trade in pure chaos, the search for a line between right and wrong feels urgent. For me, that moral weight is currently being carried by Pope Leo XIV. I’m thinking about his stance on immigration, the war policies, and the way he just cuts through the noise. It feels like a stark contrast to what we saw on Truth Social this Easter—a profane, aggressive rant from Donald Trump about Iran, calling them “crazy bastards” and promising “Hell.”
Then you have Leo, on the same day, talking about abandoning the desire for conflict and domination. It’s a massive gap, right? He’s even called out leaders with “hands full of blood,” a clear nod to the aggressive rhetoric we’re seeing from folks like Pete Hegseth. But wait, I shouldn’t gloss over the messiness. The Church still has those massive, unresolved problems—the, you know, the clergy abuse scandals, the rigid stances on abortion and marriage. Rhode Island’s AG report on child abuse in the church? That didn’t just vanish into thin air. It’s still there.
Yet, people are showing up. I’m looking at the numbers from the Archdiocese of Boston, and they’re actually kind of staggering. In 2023, 299 non-Christians converted. Last year, 438. This year? 680. Terrence Donilon from the Archdiocese says it’s a fundamental need to be closer to God, or maybe it’s the “Pope Leo effect.” Is it? Donilon thinks he’s captured a sense of community that’s been building for a while now.
Actually, maybe it’s not all about the Pope. I keep thinking about that young adult group in South Boston—200 people on a Wednesday night. They aren’t all there for the politics. They’re there because they’re asking the big, terrifying questions about purpose, and why everything online feels so cruel.
Nature abhors a vacuum, or so Aristotle said. If we’re living in a moral vacuum, maybe people are just reaching for whatever firm ground they can find. Whether the Church can actually hold that space—or if it’s just a temporary reaction to the noise—is another question entirely. I’m not sure it’s fully answered yet.