Relentless Christocentrism

A Rant

Aug 04, 2026

In the cool of my morning prayers, I determined to compose a rant.

I’ve been carefully following coverage of the recent upsurge in people becoming Catholic. I’ve read secular outlets and Protestant thinkpieces considering the cultural conditions responsible for this surprising trend, as well as Catholic commentaries eager to remind us that actually everything is terrible and we shouldn’t get excited. There is also some cautious optimism from more sane Catholics, and a little triumphalism among Catholic influencers.

Here’s what I’ve noticed about the first three groups: they will try out every explanation except one. They discuss a longing for tradition among the young, leaving it a mystery why this Tradition, tarred by every slander the world can conceive, should exercise such an irresistible attraction while socially respectable alternatives are passed over in silence. They discuss a lack of community among deracinated transplants moving between major cities every three years, but leave it open why a bizarre system of rites and duties, rather than something more approachable, like the Rotary Club or postmodern French theater, should prove the ultimate house of friendship. They talk about a backlash against the excesses of leftist anti-humanism, and while there has never been a more steadfast defender of the unchanging things than the Catholic Church, surely Old Puritanism or even the Democratic Party platform from 20 years ago would do as well for political purposes.

All this, while an explanation the size of an elephant quietly sits on the desk of every pundit who pours his ink into the ocean of speculation: people are becoming Catholic because they think Catholicism is true.

Almost every day I talk to people struggling their way into the Church. Let me tell you: they care deeply about whether or not it’s true. They have a million questions, a thousand doubts, and a hundred reasons they absolutely cannot become Catholic. If we—for I myself was one of them—had not been satisfied on every point, or enough of them, nothing would have come of it. It feels like death, and in some cases the emotional toll comes close, as Protestant church communities and families slam the door on Catholic-curious members before they’ve even left. All this, because the priest had a cool chasuble?

No. I’m going to reveal, free of charge and straight from the trenches, the secret knowledge obtained by each catechumen that makes it impossible for a man of conscience to hold out against the Church. It is this: Catholicism is relentlessly Christocentric. From highest parapet to deepest crypt, every brick and stone of the Catholic Church is devoted to Jesus Christ and bears his name.

I know, and do not care, how incredible it sounds. It’s the huge hidden fact that the Church tries to publish in every age but constantly finds the age’s prince doing everything he can to hush up. I will attempt now to speak over his frantic shushing.

It’s all about Jesus Christ. All of it.

The hierarchy of the Church is about Jesus Christ. The pope is his steward on earth while we await his return in glory. The pope is in many ways the least free man in the world: he is completely given over to the work of Jesus Christ. The bishops manifest that reign at a local level, because Christ wishes, through his shepherds, to be close to his people in their concrete lives. The priests dwell among the flock even more directly, giving up their own hope for children in exchange for serving God’s children day and night.

Mary and the saints are about Jesus Christ. Every single one is beloved by Christians because they made their life an offering to God in a radical way, showing us what holiness looks like in every conceivable temperament and station. We love them like the songs of an artist. They are notes sung by Christ as a gift to his people, and when we love the voice we love the singer. When we neglect the voice we neglect the singer. Object if you like, but I am a witness: the more I love his Mother and brothers and sisters, the more I love Christ. They surround me like a cloud, countless friendly hands and faces urging me toward my heavenly home.

Confession is about Jesus Christ. When the priest carries out the ministry of reconciliation, I am released from the deranged anxieties of my own uncertainty and know that I am reconciled to my God. I hear the Galilean’s voice come through a man with a collar: “God the Father of mercies, through the death and resurrection of his Son has reconciled the world to himself and sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins…and I absolve you of all your sins, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” The rest of the sacraments are about Jesus Christ, too: may they hasten the reign of his kingdom in me, may it seep into every cell and establish itself immovably!

The Latin, the vestments, the intricacies of canon law and the holy water in devout homes—it’s all, absolutely all of it, about Jesus Christ, King of the Universe and the rightful Lord of every human heart. It must be so; nothing less immense than the Catholic religion could sweep up every particle of creation into the embrace of its Maker. You would have a relationship with Christ, and that’s good—the Church will reveal how every wink of the eye can become a prayer to him.

And behold, I tell you a great mystery: inside each of our sanctuaries planted across the globe, there is a red candle with a gold box next to it, and God is in that box. Christ is there, the beating heart of the Body of Christ, the lifeful center of the Church, hiding under the appearance of unleavened bread. Around this little point—this tiny piece of manna—the entire universe turns. And he bids us to take, all of us, and eat of it, for this is his Body.

This may sound absurd. It is a hard teaching. Who can accept it? More and more, we see that in fact anyone can, with God’s help. For my part, I discovered this huge Christic secret with increasing alarm. I did not want to become Catholic, but I found that trying to escape the Church’s Christocentric heart is like trying to escape the center of the earth by running along its surface. You get no farther from it, and eventually you arrive, exhausted, precisely where you intended to flee.

This is just to say: by all means, continue speculating about the rise in souls choosing for the Catholic Church. But, please, for the love of all that is good and beautiful, ask yourself: might it just be true?

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