Monsignor Erik Varden, a Cistercian monk and Bishop of Trondheim, Norway, preached the Lenten retreat for His Holiness Pope Leo XIV and the Roman Curia this year: Alight with Hidden Glory. Retreat preached by His Holiness Pope Leo XIV and the Roman Curia in Lent 2026 (Bloomsbury, 2026, Kindle edition). The sermon is guided by the Lenten meditations of Saint Bernard of Clairvaux in light of Psalm 90, Qui habitat (He who dwells…). The meditations reveal a profound spiritual sense, a deep understanding of the human condition, and a keen sensitivity to the challenges of our time. Reflections on hope, the splendor of truth, holiness, and the power of love follow one another. I was particularly struck by the sharpness with which he exposes the lack of substance in so many superficial pronouncements that abound in the intellectual sphere.

In this regard, he points out that “fashions change so rapidly these days that it is reckless to try to analyze them. However, I wonder: isn’t it true that the dictatorship of relativism that marked the first quarter of this century is now transforming (…) into a dictatorship of absolutism? We may be surrounded by networks that spread ‘truths’ in the plural, but they increasingly take for granted that there is, and must be, only one truth (p. 48).” Certainly, we have gone from the “anything goes” of relativism to “only what I affirm is valid.” This latter position is presented as the only “truth,” such that any other perspective is excluded, silenced, and prohibited. This is characteristic of woke ideology, intent on absolutizing one aspect of reality and social dialogue, canceling any other proposal. Varden is not wrong when he points out the risk that this exclusivism regarding truth expands into “the realm of culture and politics, with enormous implications for religion. Pilate’s question is once again posed in the public sphere: ‘What is truth?’”

Likewise, in these times of constant change and incessant “updates,” it is “tempting,” Varden points out, “to think that we must be at the forefront of worldly trends. But that is a risky undertaking. The Church, an institution of slow evolution, will always run the risk of appearing and sounding ‘outdated.’ But if it knows how to express well its own language—that of Scripture and the liturgy, that of its forefathers, poets, and saints of the past and present—it will be original and renewed, and will have the opportunity, as it has done before, to guide culture.” It is the faithful, guided by the Magisterium of the Church, who must place Christ at the heart and summit of human activities, considering, discerning, and weighing the consistency of new developments insofar as they are rooted in the truth about humanity and creation. Christians are not at odds with their times; they live in this world, with its calm and turbulence, and try to bring spirit to the many noble realities of human existence: information abounds; what is lacking is wisdom, thoughtful reflection. All of this can be found in the Church’s ancient tradition.

Varden goes on to say that “to unmask the neon lights of today’s antichrists, we don’t need competing neon lights; that would only cause one antichrist to give rise to another (p. 49).” Indeed, there are many charlatans, and we would be wrong to add more smoke to the air. Giving in to the frivolous pressures of the moment leads to trivializing the Christian message: salt that has lost its saltiness is useless for seasoning. Varden’s voice is clear: “Wasn’t the universal call to holiness—that is, the call to embody the truth—the most prominent note of the Second Vatican Council? It resonated splendidly throughout its deliberations like a gong. The Christian claim to truth becomes convincing when its splendor is made personally evident through selfless love in holiness, free from the temptation to compromise (p. 50).” Yes, the universal call to holiness remains a great catalyst for uniting faith and life of faith, message and witness.