Pope Leo XIV Takes a Subtle Stand Against Trump: A Refugee Bishop and a Virtual Message from a Baseball Stadium

by Marco Baratto

With a gesture as subtle as it is powerful, Pope Leo XIV has sent one of the clearest signals yet of his vision for the American Church. His first episcopal appointment in the United States, made at the end of May, named Michael Pham— a Vietnamese refugee— as bishop of the Diocese of San Diego, California.

It's a choice that perfectly embodies the so-called "Leo Code," the pastoral and symbolic style with which the Pope is shaping a Church rooted in inclusion, compassion, and social justice. Bishop Pham wasted no time in advancing that vision. On Wednesday, he called on priests and faith leaders to stand in solidarity with migrants by physically showing up at their court hearings on June 20. It was a call to concrete action in a politically and socially charged moment.

But the real headline came just days later, in a move that blended faith, technology, and strategic timing. On Saturday, June 14, Pope Leo XIV made a surprise appearance—virtually from Rome—at one of the most unexpected venues: Chicago's Guaranteed Rate Field baseball stadium. His video message, delivered during a major religious event, caused an immediate stir. Tickets, sold at $5 each, sold out in hours: over 9,000 in the first 15 minutes, and more than 20,000 by the end of the day.

Yet this wasn't just about numbers—it was about symbolism. The event, titled "Chicago Celebrates Pope Leo XIV," took place on the same day as another major national occasion: the 250th anniversary of the U.S. Army, celebrated with a grand military parade in Washington, D.C., organized by Donald Trump—who was also celebrating his birthday that day.

The date overlap didn't go unnoticed by political and media analysts. Two competing visions of leadership were on display: on one hand, a display of military power and nationalism; on the other, a spiritual leader calling for dignity, justice, and hospitality, especially toward migrants.

In his video message, Pope Leo XIV underscored one of the cornerstones of his pontificate: "We cannot ignore the cry of those knocking at our doors. Migration is not a threat, but a chance for shared humanity." It was a simple yet piercing statement—especially when set against the backdrop of hardline immigration policies embraced by the Trump administration.

Still, the Pope didn't strike directly. Like a seasoned tennis player, he didn't hit with brute force, but placed his shots with elegance and precision. No explicit attacks, no political rhetoric. Just carefully chosen dates, appointments, and gestures that speak louder than confrontation.

In appointing a refugee bishop and speaking to thousands from a baseball stadium instead of a church balcony, Pope Leo XIV showed once again that his strategy isn't to dominate the political field—but to reframe it entirely.

In a divided America, the Pope moves with the grace of someone who understands the weight of words—yet knows the deeper power of symbols.

And in that quiet strength lies a bold message: the Church stands not with the powerful, but with the forgotten.