Pope Francis’ Letter Sows Confusion Over Immigration

In a letter sent to U.S. bishops on Tuesday, Pope Francis attacked President Trump’s immigration policy, calling the president’s plan for mass deportations “a major crisis,” and condemning “any measure that tacitly or explicitly identifies the illegal status of some migrants with criminality.” The pope also appeared to take a swipe at recent remarks by Vice President J.D. Vance about the Catholic concept of ordo amoris, the order of charity, as it relates to illegal immigration. 

The first thing to say about the pope’s letter is that, like most pronouncements from Francis about contemporary political and cultural matters, it’s unclear exactly what he means. In some places he seems to contradict or misrepresent Catholic teaching, and in other places he uses vague language that could be interpreted multiple ways. 

Taken out of context from his previous statements on immigration, it would be easy to dismiss the letter as nothing more than sentimental but unobjectionable platitudes about human dignity and the need for Christians to care for the poor. But considered in context, it’s clear that Francis wants to signal that he’s against Trump and Vance on immigration. He also appears to believe that all poor and marginalized people have the right to emigrate to the United States — or at least that, having emigrated (legally or illegally), it would be wrong to deport them.

Deporting people who face some hardship in their home country, writes Francis, “damages the dignity of many men and women, and of entire families, and places them in a state of particular vulnerability and defenselessness.” He then connects this notion of protecting the dignity of all people with the rule of law, saying, “an authentic rule of law is verified precisely in the dignified treatment that all people deserve, especially the poorest and most marginalized.”

It’s unclear if the pope is saying here that laws against illegal immigration, regardless of whether a migrant is poor or marginalized, are unjust. American immigration law does indeed stipulate that all illegal or unauthorized entry into the country is a criminal offense, and those who break those laws are subject to removal — that is, deportation. Does Francis think such laws are illegitimate? That they do not constitute an “authentic rule of law”?

If so, it’s unclear how such a view squares with the relevant section of the Catechism of the Catholic Church, which obliges prosperous nations to welcome foreigners in search of security “to the extent they are able,” but also allows political authorities, “for the sake of the common good for which they are responsible,” to attach conditions on immigration. The immigrant, according to the catechism, must also take on certain duties toward his or her country of adoption: “Immigrants are obliged to respect with gratitude the material and spiritual heritage of the country that receives them, to obey its laws and to assist in carrying civic burdens.”

The plain text of the catechism, then, would seem to prohibit migrants from illegally entering another country — especially one that, like the United States, has passed laws against illegal immigration that carry criminal penalties, including deportation.

In light of that, it’s hard to know what to make of Francis’ claim that a “rightly formed conscience” must disagree with any policy that “identifies the illegal status of some migrants with criminality,” since the illegal status of these people is a direct result of criminal activity on their part — namely, sneaking over the border in violation of the law. (Indeed, the Holy See itself restricts unauthorized entry onto its territory, and in December sharply increased the criminal penalties for illegal entry into Vatican City, including higher fines and longer prison sentences.) 

The catechism also clearly states that political authorities are responsible for “the common good.” The context of the passage makes it clear that the common good is not to be understood universally but refers to the common good of the community or nation for which a given political authority is responsible.

By contrast, the pope’s letter suggests that it’s un-Christian not to welcome illegal immigrants into one’s country, and that “the common good” should be understood not only in terms of one’s own nation but on a universal level: “The true common good is promoted when society and government, with creativity and strict respect for the rights of all … welcomes, protects, promotes and integrates the most fragile, unprotected and vulnerable.”

Nowhere, though, does Francis distinguish between respecting the rights of citizens who are “the most fragile, unprotected, and vulnerable,” and migrants who are likewise vulnerable. But that distinction is important, not just for how it informs the duties of a political authority to secure the common good for its citizens but also how it informs a correct understanding of the Catholic idea of ordo amoris, the “order of charity.”

J.D. Vance injected ordo amoris into the public debate over immigration in a recent interview with Fox News’ Sean Hannity when he said, “you love your family, and then you love your neighbor, and then you love your community, and then you love your fellow citizens in your own country, and then after that you can focus and prioritize the rest of the world.”

He went on to say, “A lot of the far left has completely inverted that. They seem to hate the citizens of their own country and care more about people outside their own borders. That is no way to run a society.”

This is more or less an accurate description of ordo amoris, which was a phrase used by Saint Augustine in his classic work City of God as a definition of virtue. In another of Augustine’s works, On Christian Doctrine, he expands on the idea of rightly ordered charity, describing a virtuous man as someone who, “keeps his affections also under strict control, so that he neither loves what he ought not to love, nor fails to love what he ought to love, nor loves that more which ought to be loved less, nor loves that equally which ought to be loved either less or more, nor loves that less or more which ought to be loved equally.”

Centuries later, Saint Thomas Aquinas expanded further on this concept, arguing that the principle of rightly ordered charity (what Aquinas called ordo caritatis) is hierarchical and interconnected, beginning with our love of God and then moving outward from there to ourselves, our families, neighbors, and so on. In his epic work, Summa Theologiae, he writes, “we ought in preference to bestow on each one such benefits as pertain to the matter in which, speaking simply, he is most closely connected with us.” But, adds Aquinas, the application of the principle might vary depending on circumstances, “Because in certain cases one ought, for instance, to succor a stranger, in extreme necessity, rather than one’s own father, if he is not in such urgent need.”

So this is not to say we don’t love all people as Christ commanded. But in practice, our nearest relationships carry with them immediate obligations, such as caring for one’s own family and one’s own town or city. This is a well-established teaching in the Catholic Church — so well established it appears twice in the catechism, first when discussing the Fourth Commandment (honor your father and mother), which “shows us the order of charity,” and second when discussing the duties of citizens: “The love and service of one’s country follow from the duty of gratitude and belong to the order of charity. Submission to legitimate authorities and service of the common good require citizens to fulfill their roles in the life of the political community.”

Extending the logic of this principle doesn’t mean being indifferent to the plight of the stranger or the migrant, but it does mean looking after one’s own community and people and nation before looking after those who live in other regions and other countries.

In contrast, Francis’ letter presents a different view of ordo amoris, one that appears, at best, to be in tension with the catechism and prior teaching of the Catholic Church, and, at worst, to be a misrepresentation of it, however inadvertent. “Christian love is not a concentric expansion of interests that little by little extend to other persons and groups,” writes Francis, which seems to be directed at Vance but doesn’t reflect what Vance actually said. Later, Francis says, “The true ordo amoris that must be promoted is that which we discover by meditating constantly on the parable of the ‘Good Samaritan’ … that is, by meditating on the love that builds a fraternity open to all, without exception.”

Pope Francis is of course correct that Christians should meditate on and work to build a fraternity open to all. But in the context of the ongoing debate in America about immigration, he should have perhaps clarified that the Catholic Church does indeed also affirm an order of charity, as well as the duty of political authorities to protect their citizens and ensure immigrants follow the laws of the countries they adopt as their own. 

All of these things, seemingly absent from the pope’s letter to U.S. bishops, are vitally important when considering immigration policy — especially in a country that has seen more than 10 million foreign nationals enter the country illegally over the last four years, record amounts of illicit and deadly drugs, along with the human misery and suffering that cartel-controlled mass illegal immigration has produced.

It’s a shame Pope Francis didn’t address any of this, in part because his failure to do so will likely weaken his ability to speak to Americans about immigration with authority at a time when his voice, as the leader of the Catholic Church, is sorely needed.

John Daniel Davidson is a senior editor at The Federalist. His writing has appeared in the Wall Street Journal, the Claremont Review of Books, The New York Post, and elsewhere. He is the author of Pagan America: the Decline of Christianity and the Dark Age to Come. Follow him on Twitter, @johnddavidson.