In the End, Fidelity Matters: Cardinal Müller on the Pontificate of Pope Francis
Pope Francis has returned to his Creator. After more than twelve years on the Chair of Peter, he leaves behind a Church in transition and a ministry that drew global attention but also stirred tensions. We spoke with Cardinal Gerhard Ludwig Müller about the spiritual legacy of this pontificate, the relationship between doctrine and pastoral care, between Church and world, and about how a pope can remain what he must be: a witness to Christ. Simon Kajan of Statement Media conducted the following interview:
Your Eminence, Cardinal Müller, Pope Francis has been called home. As a cardinal and theologian, what remains most vivid to you from these last days?
The convergence between his final public appearance, with the Easter blessing, and his death the next morning moved me deeply. For us Christians, death is not simply the end, but the ultimate passage to the Risen Lord. We must view the life and ministry of this pope exactly in this light—as the testimony of a man of faith, sustained by trust in grace.
Beyond Theology: A Man Who Pointed to Christ
What remains with you beyond theological debates?
He did not try to be popular as an individual. What truly matters is that the pope—as the successor of the Apostle Peter—through his kindness and authenticity, ultimately led people to faith in Jesus Christ. This faith alone can save us. The Apostles, even the pope, act on Christ’s behalf—but as human beings they are like all of us. They cannot guarantee our redemption. They can only point to Christ.
Francis came from Latin America, from Argentina. How did this shape his pontificate—theologically and culturally?
Every person is shaped by their background. But anyone who takes responsibility in the Church, especially at the highest level, must grow beyond their origin. The pope is not simply the pastor of Buenos Aires but the visible principle of unity of the universal Church. He should not deny his roots, but he must enter into other worlds of experience—intellectually, spiritually, culturally. To be honest, our pope had little connection to the Slavic nations. He never visited them. The relationship between South and North America is a unique chapter in itself. But a pope must keep the salvation of the whole Church in view. His background is part of his personality, not the measure of his mission.
The Option for the Poor and Social Doctrine
Pope Francis strongly emphasized the “Option of the poor.” How do you evaluate this focus—in light of the Church’s tradition of social teaching?
Francis reminded us that the faith must not remain Eurocentric. Every person—in every social class and on every continent—is called to find their dignity in Christ. But we must not forget: dignity concerns salvation, not merely redistribution. We must not turn the option for the poor into an ideological project. Calls for justice and social order must rest on the Christian understanding of the human person—not on Marxist or populist ideologies, which have failed catastrophically in many countries. In Latin America, we’ve seen this clearly: Communist regimes have often not helped the poor but destroyed the middle class and created new dependencies. Social ethics must remain faithful to the Gospel, which redeems not systems, but persons. Amid all deserved praise for new emphases, we should not forget: Pope Leo XIII, with Rerum novarum, had already placed the social question at the heart of Church reflection. Francis personalized and emotionalized it—with gestures and words meant to awaken consciences.
Pope Francis was often called a “pope for all.” How do you see this interpretation of the papacy?
Many today no longer understand the Church from within her faith, but wish to instrumentalize her—for social programs, political utopias, or cultural reinterpretations. Sociological models are used to rewrite the Revelation. Or social ethics and anthropology are derived from ideological templates—whether on gender, climate, or other currents. But this way, the Church loses her center. The successor of Peter is above all the one who confesses: “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God”—and who upholds this confession against every temptation to relativism, even against the applause of the world. The pope must be ready, like Peter, to be led where he would rather not go—that is, to martyrdom.
The Limits of Papal Authority
The pope also holds the power of binding and loosing. Does this mean he can freely determine doctrine and Church life?
The papacy is divinely instituted, but not divinely embodied. The pope is the Vicar of Christ—in his humanity, not in his divinity. He does not stand above Revelation but beneath the Word of God, which the Church faithfully hands on. It is an error to think that the pope can dispose of Scripture and Tradition. He is bound to the Church’s confession. The primacy must not be misunderstood as absolute power over doctrine and the Church. Even Peter was corrected by Paul when he caused confusion about the Gospel in Antioch. This scene—as interpreted by Fathers like Jerome and Augustine—shows that Truth stands above office. And only if the office serves the truth does it fulfill its mission.
Francis strongly emphasized the plight of migrants. Yet you have called for a more differentiated view. What do you mean?
Migration is a deeply human issue. It is about immediate help for people in need. But we must also ask: Who is exploiting this misery? There are human traffickers, organized crime that exploits suffering. That is not mere rhetoric—it is a harsh reality. We must not ignore this. Therefore, moral statements must always take political and sociological context into account. Otherwise, traffickers might even present themselves as moral authorities—when it’s really just about profit.
You defended the interreligious Abu Dhabi declaration, signed by Pope Francis and Ahmed Mohamed Ahmed El-Tayeb, Grand Imam of al-Azhar, but acknowledged there were misunderstandings. What was the issue?
The intention was good: to foster dialogue and formulate a common ethic on the basis of natural law. But we must distinguish: religions as cultural realities are not equal in terms of truth. All human beings are willed by God—but not all religions are as such. If awareness of that is blurred, it creates the impression that it doesn’t matter what one believes. That is not Catholic. The pope is not a chairman of an interreligious council but a witness to Christ. That must never be relativized—or the Church loses her very heart.
China, Diplomacy, and Limits
Another controversy surrounded the Vatican’s agreement with the People’s Republic of China concerning episcopal appointments. How do you assess this step?
In China we clearly face an atheistic dictatorship with an anti-Christian ideology. The Church was suppressed for decades—with all the suffering that entails, including imprisonment and death. That must not be forgotten. Vatican diplomacy must never go so far as to trade the principles of the faith for diplomatic advantage. No state has the right to appoint bishops—not a communist one, not a democratic one. That competence belongs to the Church alone. If we make compromises here, we lose more than we gain.
In Western democracies we also see a new proximity between Church and state—particularly where public law structures exist. Do you see a risk here?
This whole state-church thinking must, in my view, be abandoned completely—it is bad for the Church and no gain for society. When religion becomes mere cultural decoration, Christianity dissolves into externals. People may outwardly cling to religion, yet politically uphold materialism or neo-atheism. That is dangerous. The Faith must not become a function of the state. We must not let ourselves be drawn into functionalization—neither through state-church arrangements nor through misguided alliances with ideological agendas.
In recent statements, you warned against transhumanism. What is at stake?
When humanity becomes a project of technical optimization, it loses its soul. This is not about any hostility to progress, but about a realistic image of the human being. Man is not just biological material waiting to be perfected. He is a creature of God. That is a boundary not to be crossed. We risk creating a control-driven society, where personhood and freedom are replaced by functionality. Man becomes manageable, disposable—and loses himself. The Church must oppose this with a clear anthropology: man is not a product, but a person. And his worth is non-negotiable.
Conversions and the Return of God
Despite many crises, we hear of numerous conversions—in the United States, in England—and recently 10,000 adult baptisms in France at Easter. What does this mean?
When 10,000 adults in France are baptized at Easter, it shows that the question of God is not dead. Many young people are again asking about meaning—and they will not be fobbed off with slogans or distractions. They want to know where they come from, where they are going, what the purpose of life is. I believe many young people are convinced by Christ. They see He is the only one in whom one can trust—in both life and in death. Christ is not only a moral teacher, but the Son of God, who bore our guilt, died, and rose again for us.
Where do you see new theological impulses that may help the Church rediscover herself?
I keep encountering young people who pursue theology with seriousness, openness, and intellectual integrity. They are not impressed by de-Christianizing slogans. They do not follow the spirit of the age, but seek to follow the Spirit of God. I think of Catholic institutions like Notre Dame in the USA or the Angelicum here in Rome with the Dominicans. Serious work is being done there—with depth, fidelity to faith, and spiritual sincerity.
Many young people today rediscover the old liturgy or classical spiritual traditions. How do you interpret this—also with regard to the debates around the suppression of the old rite?
Not a few young people discover the old liturgy—with its silence, its adoration. Its beauty speaks to them. But liturgy must not become a mere façade behind which no spiritual edifice remains. The façade stands, but the building is functionalist—without origin. The young notice this. They seek depth, not performance. They seek Christ. Still, I do not believe that the old form alone guarantees orthodoxy—there are exaggerations as well. But pastoral questions should not be answered with harshness and authoritarianism. If leniency is shown in marital or sexual morality, but traditionalists are punished with bans, a balance is lost. And that damages the faithful’s sense of justice. One cannot categorically forbid what is, in itself, legitimate.