Despite JD Vance’s Flattery, Pope Leo XIV Publicly Snubs Him in Front of World Leaders at Inaugural Mass

On a grand Sunday morning filled with the scent of incense, the sound of hymns, and the eyes of the world on St. Peter’s Square, a subtle diplomatic drama unfolded with a cold precision that sent an unmistakable message across global political and religious circles. Pope Leo XIV, the newly installed head of the Roman Catholic Church, delivered what can only be interpreted as a public snub to U.S. Vice President JD Vance—despite Vance’s attempts at humble gestures and carefully staged reverence.

What should have been a moment of spiritual unity between the Vatican and the White House instead became a stark visual metaphor for distance, disapproval, and unresolved grievances.

Vance, who had flown into Rome with Secretary of State Marco Rubio to represent the United States at the papal inauguration, had hoped the trip would mark a diplomatic reset. With cameras ready and his wife Usha by his side in formal black attire, Vance stood in the reception line after the mass, perhaps expecting a warm encounter or even a brief audience with the new pontiff.

Instead, Pope Leo XIV greeted the vice president with a perfunctory 17-second handshake and no meaningful words. Then, with barely a glance backward, he turned his attention to private bilateral meetings with other world leaders, including Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky and Peruvian President Dina Boluarte, both of whom were granted extended, substantive discussions.

While short greetings are not unusual in Vatican protocol, the context here is damning. Pope Leo XIV had just delivered a scathing homily condemning xenophobia, exploitation, and the marginalization of the poor—an unmistakable rebuke of Trump-era immigration policies that Vance, as Vice President and longtime loyalist, has vigorously defended.

The sermon referenced the sins of “hatred, violence, prejudice,” and an economic model that “exploits the Earth’s resources and marginalizes the poorest.” To observers attuned to the nuances of papal rhetoric, it was clear the Pope was speaking past the altar and straight to the diplomats seated nearby—especially the Americans.

This calculated coolness comes after a long and troubled relationship between Vance and the Vatican, one that only worsened during his tenure in the Trump administration. Prior to being elected pope, then-Cardinal Robert Francis Prevost reposted multiple social media critiques of Vance, including a blistering op-ed titled “JD Vance is wrong: Jesus doesn’t ask us to rank our love for others.”

The piece accused Vance of misusing Catholic theology to justify aggressive immigration enforcement and harsh deportation tactics. Leo XIV also shared articles detailing the humanitarian crises triggered by these policies, particularly those deported to violence-plagued regions like El Salvador.

Even before Leo ascended to the papacy, Vance’s standing with Church leadership was deteriorating. In February, the late Pope Francis himself issued a letter to Catholic bishops across the world, pointedly criticizing the use of faith to defend immigration crackdowns.

The letter stressed that the deportation of people fleeing poverty, insecurity, or environmental degradation “damages the dignity of many men and women” and places them in states of “particular vulnerability.” The criticism was clearly directed at the Trump administration, but Vance took it personally—though, publicly, he insisted on brushing it off.

“I try not to play the politicization of the Pope game,” Vance said during a February interview with conservative radio host Hugh Hewitt. It was a diplomatic dodge, perhaps meant to conceal the deeper wound these papal critiques left on an administration already struggling to maintain legitimacy with global religious institutions.

Even so, Vance’s discomfort was visible in his calculated efforts to re-engage with the Vatican ahead of the inauguration. On Saturday, he visited the tomb of Pope Francis and posted on X that he was “praying for the repose of his soul,” calling the former pontiff “beloved by many Catholics around the world.”

The gesture was not without its irony. Only a few weeks earlier, Vance had been received by Pope Francis for a brief private audience at the Vatican on April 20, where they exchanged pleasantries and symbolic gifts. That meeting, like many in the Trump era, was characterized by its formality more than any real warmth. Francis died the next day, and his successor—Leo XIV—has now chosen to draw an even firmer line in the sand.

The Vatican has not issued any public commentary on Sunday’s events, but insiders close to the College of Cardinals suggest that the pontiff’s refusal to engage Vance substantively was no accident. Instead, it appears to be part of a broader realignment of Vatican diplomacy in the wake of the global populist wave.

Pope Leo XIV, though American by birth, has repeatedly warned against rising nationalism, economic imperialism, and the erosion of compassion toward migrants. His early days as pontiff have been defined not by diplomatic platitudes but by direct confrontation with the political ideologies he deems antithetical to Catholic doctrine.

For Vance, the snub comes at a politically vulnerable moment. While still in his first term as Vice President, he has increasingly been positioned as a frontman for Trump's most controversial policies, especially those affecting immigration and international aid. His attempts to court Catholic approval—even as he defends policies the Church has deemed morally indefensible—have proven fruitless.

As Sunday’s ceremony unfolded, global leaders from Germany, Canada, and Italy were seen conversing warmly with Vatican officials, while Vance and Rubio remained largely isolated, speaking mostly among themselves and their aides.

In Washington, the White House declined to comment on whether Vance had requested a longer audience with the Pope or if such a meeting was ever seriously considered. One administration official, speaking on condition of anonymity, hinted that the Vice President was disappointed but “expected” the outcome.

“It’s clear that certain messages from the Vatican haven’t changed, no matter who’s wearing the robe,” the official said.

The optics of this snub—especially in a time when the United States is attempting to restore global alliances—could haunt Vance politically. It reinforces a perception that his brand of hardline politics is increasingly out of step with both traditional allies and moral authorities.

While Vance may continue to enjoy support among evangelical Christians and nationalist factions within the U.S., his relationship with the broader Catholic Church is now arguably irreparable.

If there was ever a hope that Pope Leo XIV would offer Vance a path toward redemption or reconciliation, Sunday made clear that such forgiveness will not be freely given. Instead, the pontiff seems to have set a tone for his papacy—one that prioritizes moral clarity over political convenience, and one where gestures, no matter how pious, are not enough to absolve complicity.

As Vance left the Vatican later that afternoon, there were no smiling photos, no press statements, no diplomatic glow. Only the image of a humbled vice president walking quietly down the marble steps of a palace that had, just hours before, denied him the embrace he came seeking. And for a man whose political survival depends increasingly on public image, that silence may be louder than any words spoken.