In recent times, few Catholic voices have attracted as much attention as Bishop Erik Varden. A Trappist monk, a convert to the Catholic faith from atheism, former Abbot of Mount Saint Bernard Abbey, and now Bishop of Trondheim, Varden is one of the Church’s most prominent writers. His theological contribution received papal recognition when Pope Leo XIV personally invited him to preach the annual Lenten retreat to the Roman Curia, later published as Alight with Hidden Glory.
Varden’s growing popularity, however, is not only the result of his appointment to the episcopacy or his invitation from the Holy Father. At a time when many are thirsting for spiritual nourishment, his conferences, interviews and retreats have found a wide audience. Drawing upon Scripture, the Fathers of the Church and contemporary culture, Varden synthesises these influences into a fluid, moving and compelling style of preaching, leading people into a deeper communion with Christ.
Bishop Varden was born in Norway in 1974 and baptised into a Lutheran family. When reflecting on the “seeds of his vocation” as a young man, Varden recalls that he “was privileged to grow up in a home marked by goodness, and kindness, and generosity… It wasn’t explicitly religious, but it was always respectful” (The Napa Institute, 2026). He then describes his outlook as a teenager: “I was very skeptical of established religion when I was fourteen… and I relished my own sense of autonomy and independence and declaring myself removed from all that.” He admits that around this time he identified himself, “with a degree of self-satisfied pride… as an agnostic and even an atheist.”
There was, however, a decisive change when Varden was fifteen years old. He recounts that listening to Mahler’s Symphony No. 2“pierced” him. “I listened to that music and it wounded me, or it revealed a wound in me. It revealed to me that I was carrying something within me that was somehow greater than I was.” This became a decisive turning point, not only because it “set” him on the path towards pursuing his education abroad, but also because it confronted him with what Aristotle calls catharsis: the ability to encounter “normally hidden emotion… [and the] depths in him or herself” (Varden, 2023, p. 14).
After completing his schooling in Norway, Varden attended Atlantic College in Wales before studying Theology and Religious Studies at Cambridge. During this period, he encountered serious believers, including a Muslim roommate, who “challenged me intellectually… and encouraged me.” He also made his first visit to a Trappist monastery, an experience that both “frightened” and “haunted” him because of its “degree of radicality”. Yet it was precisely this encounter that drew him towards Catholicism, and at the age of nineteen he was received into the Catholic Church.
After becoming a Catholic, Varden did not initially intend to become a monk. However, after a confessor told him, “You will be a housemaster in this place for the next 40 years of your life,” he began to reconsider his future. Having completed a doctorate in Historical Theology, he felt drawn to explore a monastic vocation and joined Mount Saint Bernard Abbey in 2002, making his solemn profession a few years later.
Following his Licentiate in Sacred Theology in Rome, he was ordained to the priesthood in 2011. In 2015, he was elected Abbot of Mount Saint Bernard, becoming the first abbot born outside Britain or Ireland in the monastery’s history. His abbacy coincided with a period of renewal and growth, including the development of the monastery’s brewery and greater public engagement through retreats, conferences and writing. In 2019, Pope Francis appointed him Bishop-Prelate of Trondheim in Norway. Consecrated a bishop in 2020, Varden has continued to combine pastoral leadership with writing and preaching, becoming one of the Church’s most influential voices. Beauty, however, remained a recurring theme throughout his life. Just as Mahler’s music awakened in him a longing for transcendence, his later writings repeatedly present beauty as the means by which God wounds the heart and draws it towards Himself.
At the heart of Varden’s theology lies a deeply Augustinian understanding of the human person. In a time of uncertainty both in the secular world and within the Church, Varden asks a fundamental question: what does it mean to be human? He answers this simply in Chastity: “To be human is to exist with the sense of an absence to be filled. Only in the light of our human substance’s longing for union with the divine do our lesser yearnings make sense” (Varden, 2023, p. 14).
More: https://x.com/realadvaticanum/status/2077245942714286316?s=46&t=IydJ-X8H6c0NM044nYKQ0w
by on 13 LUGLIO 2026 · 1 COMMENT · inVATICAN
Pope Leo XIV’s visit to the US ambassador’s residence to celebrate the 250th anniversary of the United States spoke volumes.
It was also a clear sign of how much this pontificate has to say – and it’s much more than one might think.
Speaking to Italian media, US Ambassador Brian Burch said the pope is frustrated by the fact that his actions are often interpreted purely politically, or worse, as in conflict with the US administration.
It’s not that there aren’t any disagreements – even the ambassador hasn’t denied them – but in reality, not everything concerns Trump and the United States.
But this should also prompt broader reflection.
Leo XIV doesn’t reason on “small” issues, but on broad lines.
Pope Francis had a love for detail, and for symbolic positions that clearly showed which side the pope was on.
He demonstrated this, for example, with his “remediation cardinals,” the cardinals appointed to redress past situations in each of his nine consistories; or again, with his visit to the Russian embassy at the outbreak of the war in Ukraine.
Seen in the proper light, his letter appointing then-Archbishop Fernández as prefect of the former Holy Office was another example, an act completely outside of protocol but aimed at constructing a precise narrative.
Leo XIV, on the other hand, doesn’t reason about reactions, much less specific reactions. Rather, he seeks to hold firm to principles and apply them in many ways, sometimes even pragmatically, but without ever deviating from the general idea or allowing it to degenerate into specific issues.
Ambassador Burch’s story, therefore, does not just tell a detail, but allows us to understand how we can read the pontificate of Leo XIV.
There are probably three criteria to consider.
The first criterion is that the pope does not speak in response to specific questions, and, in fact, he is very careful not to do so. The most striking example of this attitude is the urbi et orbi address last Easter.
Such occasions, it bears mention, have always been used by popes to address the most pressing global issues. For many decades, it has been a geopolitical speech – often called the pope’s “State of the World Address” – and frequently has included many references to specific war situations.
Leo XIV, however, imposed a different style.
His speech before the blessing Urbi et Orbi contained no direct references to conflict scenarios. He had specific requests for the world’s powerful, but didn’t going into the specifics of any region of the world.
In short, the pope has decided not to focus on details, but on principles. Therefore, his every message cannot be interpreted as a specific response to some political issue, especially with regard to the United States, since he is an American pope.
In fact, that wasn’t his approach as the General of the Augustinians, and it certainly cannot be as pope.
Ambassador Burch also noted that the pope feels deeply American but is keen to demonstrate that he is a pope for everyone, not just the United States. This is also the reason behind the pope’s decision not to return immediately to his homeland, but to first schedule a number of trips that demonstrate his concern for the entire world.
The second criterion is that of normality.
More: https://x.com/andygag/status/2076544300016423369?s=46&t=IydJ-X8H6c0NM044nYKQ0w
Catholic Fun Fact: Queen Nazli of Egypt converted from Sunni Islam to Roman Catholicism in 1950. Following her conversion, she adopted the Christian name Mary Elizabeth. Born Nazli Sabri, she was the Queen Consort of King Fuad I and later the Queen Mother to Egypt's last reigning monarch, King Farouk. Her relationship with her son fractured completely after she left Egypt for medical treatment in 1946 and eventually settled in California. In 1950, Queen Nazli supported the marriage of her youngest daughter, Princess Fathia, to Riyad Ghali, a Coptic Christian commoner. King Farouk was deeply enraged by this union.
In August 1950, he officially stripped both his mother and sister of their royal titles, rights, and allowances, forbidding them from ever returning to Egypt. Definitively cut off from her homeland, Queen Nazli chose to formalize her lifelong appreciation for French Catholic education by being baptized into the Roman Catholic Church later that same year.
Queen Nazli passed away penniless in Los Angeles on May 29, 1978, at the age of 83. Because of her faith, she received a Roman Catholic funeral service and was interred at the Holy Cross Cemetery in Culver City, California, under her baptized name, Mary Elizabeth Fouad.
JULY 22, 2026 1:20 PM
Michael Haynes
“With regard to certain reports that have appeared in the media in recent days, I reiterate that the reports concerning any decision by the judges presiding over the case of Rev. Marko Ivan Rupnik are completely unfounded,” read a statement from the Holy See Press Office director issued to journalists today.
@johnamonaco:
This will be a VERY controversial thing to say, but I’m going to say it anyways: “based” African Catholicism will not save the Church, and there are already cracks in the foundation. In fact, I predict that we are a decade away from a 2002 Boston-level scandal erupting on the continent.
Why do I say this?
First, as the article below demonstrates: celibacy among African clergy (or clergy, in general) isn’t a guarantee. As early as the 1980’s, it was an open secret that many of the Roman Catholic priests in Africa were violating celibacy. African cultural norms often stigmatize celibacy for men, and so many priests had secret families, girlfriends, etc. There is the apocryphal tale of Pope John Paul II’s meeting with an African bishop, telling him to reiterate to his clergy that they should not take a girlfriend, to which the African bishop responds, “Holy Father, we have a hard enough time keeping our priests down to just ONE woman, let alone none at all!” The foremost expert on the sex abuse scandal—Richard Sipe—noted that one study in South Africa found that 45% of Catholic priests reported being sexually active within the previous two years. Several studies (Wübbels, 2011; Juma, Du Toit, & Van der Merwe, 2018; Rop, 2025) have demonstrated that African priests have struggled to integrate the Roman Catholic discipline of mandatory celibacy with traditional African cultural norms, which have led a number of priests to father children out of wedlock.
Second, for many Africans, seminary and the priesthood are paths to high social status and education. A number of US dioceses found that they would get inquiries from African Catholic men looking for sponsorship. Pious Catholic media will say “that’s because African seminaries are full!” But that’s not the entire truth. There were numerous cases of men who were legitimately rejected from seminary in Nigeria and Uganda who applied to struggling dioceses in the US, who were unaware of the candidates’ red flags. US dioceses are desperate for seminarians, and African men are desperate for the benefits that come from a seminary education, including power, academic degrees, and social capital.
Third, there is already historical precedent in Africa for scandal. In 2018, a bombshell report revealed a systemic crisis of abuse by priests against nuns. Most disturbingly, nuns were assaulted because they were seen as “safe” targets during the HIV/AIDS crisis. Much of the reporting infrastructure in Africa remains underdeveloped and hasn’t caught up with the massive growth of the Church. Furthermore, whereas our Western culture and media has no problem criticizing or attacking clergy, in many African cultures, priests are seen as untouchable authority figures, and victims’ claims are often met with fierce criticism. Clericalism is a real thing there. In some ways, the noble status of the priest in 2026 Lagos is comparable to being a priest in 1926 Boston, and there are systems of power in place to protect the clerical caste.
The Church in Africa is often held up as the preeminent sign of growth and ecclesial success. They’re seen as the conservative lifeblood to the global Church, especially on issues of morality. And to be certain, there are many faithful Catholic bishops, priests, and laity on the continent. But the Church in Africa was simply not ready for its explosive growth. And I have a very bad feeling that within 10 years, we’ll witness a Spotlight-esque exposé on the African Church’s abuse crisis.
