Pope Leo XIV Confirms 'Kissing Cardinal' as Head of the Inquisition

Pope Francis and Cardinal Fernandez. Source: America Magazine

JUNE 16, 2025 — The world is eager to know what kind of pope Leo XIV will be. In all the fanfare surrounding his election, however, one critical detail was lost. On May 9, 2025, one day after the white smoke went up from the chimney, Leo reconfirmed Cardinal Víctor Manuel Fernández as Prefect of the Dicastery for the Doctrine of the Faith (DDF). Any illusion that Leo might temper the Francis Revolution was, in that moment, cast into doubt.

For those who don’t know, the DDF is the current name for the old Roman Inquisition. It is the Vatican department responsible for defending (and “developing”) the official teachings of the Catholic Church. From 1981‍ until ‍2005, during the reign of Pope John Paul II, the position was occupied by Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger. The position carries such weight that, when John Paul died, Ratzinger was chosen to replace him, reigning as Pope Benedict XVI from 2005 until 2013.

Not only did Leo XIV choose to keep Fernández in place, but he met with him twice within the first month of his pontificate: once on May 16 and again on May 26. No other dicastery head received such prompt and repeated papal attention. For Pope Francis's supporters, this was a welcome sign of continuity. For those who had hoped that Leo would lead the Church in a new direction, it was deeply troubling.

Who is Cardinal Fernández? Even in ecclesiastical circles he often goes by his nickname “Tucho,” a mark of the informal, almost folksy theological style that has made him a polarizing figure. Appointed by Francis in July 2023 as head of the DDF, he was already one of the late pope's closest confidants, having ghostwritten key portions of Evangelii Gaudium, the 2013 apostolic exhortation that laid out the theological foundations of the Francis pontificate. He was also among the primary authors of Amoris Laetitia, the 2016 exhortation whose controversial treatment of divorced and remarried Catholics created a doctrinal firestorm.

But more than any single document, it is Fernández’s overall approach to theology—and his published works—that raise eyebrows. His most infamous contribution to Catholic letters remains a short volume titled Heal Me with Your Mouth: The Art of Kissing, published in 1995. While defenders insist the work is a metaphorical reflection on love and spirituality, passages describing kissing as “a mystical act, a kind of communion” are uncomfortably sensual for a cleric, let alone a future cardinal charged with safeguarding orthodoxy. That the Vatican’s doctrinal chief is best known in popular culture as the “kissing cardinal” is both tragic and telling.

Yet the issue with Fernández isn’t primarily aesthetic. It is doctrinal.

When he was appointed to the DDF, Fernández himself clarified that his role would not be to enforce rigid orthodoxy but to “guard a teaching that grows and develops.” The idea that doctrine can “develop” is, in the abstract, perfectly acceptable to any student of Newman. But in practice, under Fernández, “development” seems to mean reinterpreting settled truths to fit contemporary sensibilities.

Consider the DDF’s December 2023 declaration Fiducia Supplicans, which controversially permitted “non-liturgical blessings” for same-sex couples. The text sought to make a subtle distinction—blessing persons, not unions. In practice, however, it has sown confusion and scandal. Several episcopal conferences in Africa and Eastern Europe have publicly rejected it, saying it contradicts the Church’s constant moral teaching.

This is emblematic of the Fernández method: issue a doctrinal statement that gestures toward tradition but opens the door wide enough to let through a parade of novelties. It’s theology by euphemism.

The DDF, once a bastion of doctrinal clarity and fidelity, has become a sort of ecclesiastical Ministry of Ambiguity. With Fernández as “Grand Inquisitor,” it no longer corrects error so much as it carefully choreographs it—ensuring that theological innovators say the right things in the wrong ways, or the wrong things in the right tone, all while maintaining plausible deniability. This was the essence of the Amoris Laetitia controversy, and now it characterizes much of the dicastery’s output.

Why, then, has Pope Leo XIV reconfirmed him? That is the question.

The most charitable reading is that Leo, in his early weeks, has simply opted for continuity. After all, a new pontificate is a fragile thing, and it is not uncommon for popes to retain the curial staff they inherit—at least temporarily—before asserting their own vision. The reconfirmation decree itself included the phrase donec aliter provideatur—”until other provision is made.” That leaves the door open for a change.

And yet his decision to meet with Fernández twice in ten days certainly suggests more than mere courtesy. The DDF prefect is clearly not on probation; he is at the center of the new pope’s attention.

What’s more likely is that Fernández has become so integral to the apparatus of Francis-era reform that his immediate removal was deemed politically untenable. As the UOJ previously reported, Leo’s campaign to become pope was orchestrated by Rome’s progressive wing—including several key allies of Cardinal Fernández.

So, it may be that Leo reconfirmed Fernández as head of the DDF because… well, that’s exactly where he wants him.

Read also