Magnifica Humanitas: The Human Person in the Age of AI | Part 1

Artificial IntelligencePope Leo
Written By Nicole Olea

In this episode of Rebel Saints, host Nicole dives into Pope Leo XIV’s groundbreaking new encyclical, Magnifica Humanitas ("Magnificent Humanity"), signed on May 15, 2026. Strikingly relevant to our digital age, this document marks the first time Catholic social teaching directly confronts the world of artificial intelligence, automation, and algorithmic life. Nicole breaks down the foundational concepts of the letter, explores the historic Vatican launch featuring tech industry leaders, and unpacks Chapters 1 and 2 to reveal what it means to protect human dignity in a world obsessed with efficiency.

READ Magnifica Humanitas: https://www.vatican.va/content/leo-xiv/en/encyclicals/documents/20260515-magnifica-humanitas.html

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EPISODE TRANSCRIPT

What’s up, rebels? Welcome to the Rebel Saints podcast, the place where I try to convince you that there is nothing more punk than Catholicism.

I’m your host, Nicole, and today’s episode is actually coming to you in a totally brand-new format. So if you’re listening where you normally would, I want to tell you that we are also available on video today for the first time ever. This podcast can now be watched on YouTube, Spotify, Apple, and I guess wherever else video podcasts are done. I don’t know. Don’t quote me on any of that part because, again, I’m still figuring this out.

Welcome. Thank you so much for giving your time to me and this little tiny ministry that I have here at Rebel Saints.

So I’m just going to kind of get into it because I have a lot to cover today. I will say that this is going to be a two-part series where we will be talking about Pope Leo’s first encyclical, Magnifica Humanitas.

Over the last few weeks, I received a couple of messages here and there in my inbox about Pope Leo’s first encyclical. One of them, which kind of made me laugh out loud, was: “Nicole, what even is an encyclical?”

And a few others were like, “Can you please do a deep dive into Pope Leo XIV’s new document? I honestly don’t even know what they’re talking about.”

When I was reading those emails, I was like, Who, me? Are you sure? Truth be told, I’ve actually never read an encyclical cover to cover before in my entire life.

And at this point, I have read Pope Leo’s encyclical Magnifica Humanitas four separate times. I have the receipts to show it—highlights, notes, all kinds of stuff—not counting the sections I practically memorized when I was pulling this episode together.

And honestly, I wasn’t planning on covering this encyclical to the extent I was. I was going to do a brief mention or something. But the more I read, the more I realized that Pope Leo is speaking directly into what is probably one of the biggest questions shaping our lives right now.

And that’s this:

What happens to the human person in a world driven by artificial intelligence, automation, surveillance, and digital technology?

And if we’re going to let the Church lead the way, that conversation cannot be trapped in academic circles like theology departments or Silicon Valley.

It belongs right here.

It belongs with you and me—the regular Joe Schmoes, the regular Catholics—because it affects us all.

One of the reasons I started Rebel Saints was because I wanted a place where ordinary Catholics could wrestle honestly with these big questions. No seminary degree required.

I have to stipulate this straight from the jump: I am not a theologian. I don’t have a doctorate. I’m not a Vatican scholar. I don’t even have a degree in religious studies.

I’m just a lay Catholic trying to grow in her faith and make sense of the world we’re living in.

So if you found this episode because you’re trying to grow closer to Christ while navigating this crazy modern landscape—welcome.

You’re in very good company here in the Restless Heart Society.

I’m so excited that I am expanding into video. This is my first one, so bear with me if it’s a little kooky. I do have a teleprompter and a script that I’m reading from.

And actually, I thought it would be really cool to start the video portion of Rebel Saints using software called Riverside that does incorporate AI. And this is one of the ways AI is perhaps a good thing, because as a one-person show—not including this beautiful light setup my husband created for me when I said, “Hey, I think I want to do video”—I kind of just do this on my own.

I write, research, and publish all on my own.

So having software like this actually does help.

But if I seem a little awkward, it’s because I think I set my teleprompter to read a little faster than I probably should. So I’m going to be pausing myself so I can read my thoughts.

If you’re listening to this, I apologize well in advance.

But I think we’re going to do fine, friends.

Okay.

So let’s start off with that first question:

Nicole, what is even an encyclical?

Simply put, an encyclical is a letter.

It’s one of the primary ways a pope teaches the universal Church about major issues shaping human life in any specific moment in history.

These documents are theological, pastoral, and practical all at once. They help us make sense of the world we are actually living in.

Now, I think a lot of people assume every papal document is an infallible statement—dictated word for word by the Holy Spirit.

That is not exactly how it works.

An infallible statement from the pontiff is called ex cathedra. It literally means “from the chair.”

That level of absolute binding authority is extremely rare.

Most papal teachings belong to what the Church calls the ordinary magisterium.

But don’t let that word “ordinary” fool you.

It doesn’t mean these letters are unimportant. It certainly doesn’t mean we’re not called to listen seriously, wrestle honestly, and allow them to shape the way we live.

Throughout history, popes have used these letters to help us navigate moments of massive cultural upheaval.

For example, my favorite pope, Pope John Paul II, wrote fourteen encyclicals. Pope Benedict XVI wrote three. Pope Francis wrote four.

And the pope whose name our current Holy Father chose—Pope Leo XIII—wrote a staggering eighty-eight.

Now, Leo XIII’s most famous letter was called Rerum Novarum.

And essentially, this encyclical laid the foundation for what is our modern Catholic social teaching.

And honestly, Magnifica Humanitas, after having read it so many times, feels like Catholic social teaching entering the digital age.

Because it is.

Leo XIII signed Rerum Novarum at the absolute height of the Industrial Revolution.

The modern world was changing overnight.

Families were leaving farms for crowded factories. Workers were laboring in dangerous conditions, increasingly being treated like cogs in a machine rather than human beings with dignity.

Everything was accelerating so fast that people felt completely disoriented.

And right into that chaos, the Church spoke.

Rerum Novarum drew a line in the sand:

Human dignity can never be sacrificed for profit, efficiency, or technological progress.

Now fast forward exactly 135 years to the day.

On May 15, 2026—the anniversary of Rerum Novarum—Pope Leo XIV signed his very first encyclical, Magnifica Humanitas, which means “magnificent humanity.”

The fact that he chose Rerum Novarum and his namesake’s anniversary was entirely intentional.

He says so in the document.

And I think it’s because Leo XIII spoke to a civilization being reshaped by steam engines and steel factories.

Leo XIV is speaking to a civilization being reshaped by artificial intelligence and automation.

He says directly in the text:

“We cannot limit ourselves simply to repeating his insightful teachings.”

Meaning Pope Leo XIII’s.

Why?

Because AI, robotics, and algorithmic life are fundamentally changing how we work, communicate, learn, form relationships, and understand ourselves.

And that brings us to the core question of this entire encyclical:

What happens to the human person in a world driven by automation and digital systems?

Across all five chapters, Leo keeps pushing us to confront the same reality:

Does modern society still know how to recognize the dignity of a human being in an age obsessed with efficiency, optimization, speed, and output?

And he asks important questions:

What happens when your worth is measured purely by your productivity?

What happens when we begin thinking about ourselves the same way we think about machines?

What happens to contemplation, sacrifice, memory, friendship, silence, and love inside a culture engineered for constant distraction?

And for those of us trying to follow Christ:

Are we paying attention to the kind of spiritual formation happening inside our digital lives?

At first I was like, “What even does that mean?”

I’m going to get to it, friends.

Technology doesn’t just change what we do.

Over time, it reshapes how we think, how we relate to one another, and how we receive truth.

That is why the Church has to speak.

Not because the Vatican is trying to compete with Silicon Valley or launch a Catholic version of Apple.

No.

Because questions about technology are ultimately questions about humanity.

And when it comes to humanity, the Church has two thousand years of history backing up her right to speak.

One of the most fascinating parts of this entire story was the Vatican launch itself.

Pope Leo XIV didn’t just release this encyclical with a traditional, stuffy press conference.

No.

He showed up in person.

Do you know that has never happened before with an encyclical launch?

And I think it tells us everything we need to know about the kind of pope he intends to be.

His presence communicated an immediate sense of urgency.

It said:

I am here. I want to engage this conversation directly. And I want the Church to lead it.

To do that, the Vatican brought in leading voices from the front lines of artificial intelligence, including Christopher Olah, co-founder of Anthropic.

He was invited to speak directly to the Church—and, let’s face it, the world—about the future of the very technology his own industry is building.

What struck me most was how candid Olah was.

He openly acknowledged that every major AI company is operating inside enormous financial, political, and cultural pressures.

Even when developers start with the best intentions, those massive systemic pressures inevitably dictate the direction the technology takes.

Because of that, Olah argued that the world urgently needs voices outside the tech industry asking important moral questions.

Questions that corporations, investors, and governments simply are not equipped—or willing—to ask on their own.

And when I heard that, I was like, yes.

That is exactly right.

That’s exactly what I want from a tech giant.

Here is one of the leading AI researchers on the planet standing inside the Vatican effectively saying:

We need moral scrutiny. We need philosophers, theologians, and ordinary people seriously wrestling with what this technology is doing to our humanity.

Olah also made a point that lines up perfectly with the heart of Magnifica Humanitas.

He explained that public conversations about AI get completely off track because we talk about these systems as if they’re ordinary machines.

But they’re not.

And this is where I kind of went off the rails a little bit when I heard this, because all I could think about was The Terminator and Skynet.

And if you’re of that generation where you watched those movies and now you’re seeing this stuff coming into play, it’s a little freaky.

I’m not going to lie.

A little freaky.

Perhaps terrifying.

Shall we continue?

Okay.

So Olah basically explained that when an engineer builds a bridge, or an airplane, or puts together a phone like an iPhone, they understand every single component and physical mechanism involved.

However, rebels—large AI systems work differently.

They are trained on virtually the entire archive of human language, literature, art, history, and behavior.

In a real sense, they are shaped by humanity’s collective inheritance.

And the truth is, even the people building them do not fully understand everything happening inside them.

Unlike the iPhone.

Olah pointed to emerging AI safety research showing patterns that loosely resemble things seen in human neuroscience.

Representations connected to concepts like reward, fear, or emotional association.

Now, he wasn’t claiming these machines are conscious.

What he was saying was way simpler—and honestly more unsettling:

We don’t fully understand what we’re creating.

Yeah.

Okay.

Sure, friend.

That is exactly why discernment matters right now—before these systems become completely invisible parts of our daily lives.

And they already are, in most respects, in my humble opinion.

And remember, Olah isn’t speaking from a safe academic distance.

Anthropic is right in the thick of the heaviest debates.

If you’ve been following news in the United States, Anthropic has been involved with the U.S. government in things like military contracts, national security, and government partnerships—while publicly trying to advocate for ethical limits on autonomous weapons and high-risk surveillance.

So you had a leading AI builder standing before the Church openly admitting that technical expertise is not enough.

Building artificial intelligence requires a deeper moral discernment about the kind of future we want to live in.

And that lands like a bullseye right into Pope Leo’s argument:

The systems we build eventually shape us in return.

They shape how we think, how we relate to one another, how we receive truth, and how we understand human dignity itself.

Which means this conversation cannot belong exclusively to Silicon Valley politicians or engineers.

Like I said—it belongs to us all.

Alright.

So that was basically the launch and the stuff that happened before we all got to read this thing.

Now—the introduction.

I opened this on my phone on the way to go buy roses because I am starting a rose garden.

And hello, my name is Nicole, and I think I’m obsessed.

So if you have any tips on rose gardening, FYI—hit me up.

I think it was Memorial Day weekend.

I opened this sucker up after I saw those emails and I was like:

“Okay. Well. I guess I gotta read this.”

And right from the opening pages of Magnifica Humanitas, Pope Leo introduces this beautiful image of Christ as the Living Stone.

And I was taken by this imagery because, one—I had never heard of Christ referred to as the Living Stone.

Again, I’m just a layperson, okay?

I had heard of Peter as the rock, and Christ as the foundation.

But “Living Stone”?

I was like—how is stone living?

It’s so contradictory.

And I think that’s why I loved the imagery.

Because a stone sounds cold.

Permanent.

Unmoving.

But Christ as the Living Stone is eternal and unshakable, yet fully alive and active within human history.

Christ is the foundation of all that is good and beautiful.

And because Catholics are anchored to that living reality, Leo says we don’t need to approach the digital age with panic or fear.

Thank you, Jesus.

For real.

We can engage it thoughtfully, courageously, and confidently.

Now granted, I’m still going to have some trouble setting aside my Skynet-Terminator-esque fears.

But I’m going to try my hardest.

And after reading this, I actually do feel like I can.

Mostly.

But truth be told, in the introduction Leo ties the Old Testament to the present in a very cool way.

He frames the entire digital age through two biblical stories:

The Tower of Babel versus the rebuilding of Jerusalem.

Humanity, he says, is standing at a crossroads.

Artificial intelligence can become part of a new Tower of Babel.

Or it can help build a society where human beings flourish in justice, communion, and right relationship with God and one another.

The builders of Babel wanted security, control, and self-sufficiency.

They wanted to build a civilization powerful enough to reach heaven on its own terms and make a name for itself apart from God.

Leo writes:

“It was a project conceived without reference to God, supported by a uniformity that eliminated diversity and chose homogenization over communion.”

And after I read that, I couldn’t help but think about modern culture.

Pope Leo’s introduction critiques a modern obsession with efficiency and control.

He argues that our drive for perfection ultimately aims to eliminate natural human vulnerability.

Christianity understands something different about the human person.

Human beings are not problems to optimize.

We are souls to love and be loved.

To counter Babel, Leo turns to the figure of Nehemiah and the rebuilding of Jerusalem.

Now, if you need a quick refresher here—because I certainly did—even though Leo kind of goes into it, I needed the context, right? So I’m going to give it to you.

Nehemiah was a cupbearer for a Persian king. So he held a position of power that came with an enormous amount of trust.

A cupbearer was the person who tasted the king’s food and drink—making sure he didn’t get poisoned.

So, the Jewish people are returning from exile, and Nehemiah hears that Jerusalem is still in ruins.

The city is broken.

The people are suffering.

And he laments.

He’s torn up over this.

So what does he do?

He fasts.

He mourns.

He cries out to God.

But then he reaches a point where he says: I’ve got to do something.

So he goes to the king and asks for permission to go to Jerusalem and help rebuild his people’s homeland.

And because he has all this power and influence, you would think he’d walk in like:

“I’m your savior. I’m going to fix everything.”

But he doesn’t.

What he does instead is rally the people together.

Everyone has skin in the game.

Everyone is responsible for rebuilding a section of the wall.

And they do it side by side.

Priests.

Merchants.

Craftsmen.

Ordinary people.

They all have a responsibility to rebuild the walls surrounding Jerusalem—usually the sections right in front of where they live.

And despite threats, ridicule, and opposition, they kept building.

Brick by brick.

Section by section.

There’s even a part in Scripture where it says they had tools in one hand and weapons in the other.

That paints the picture of how tumultuous this really was.

This wasn’t peaceful.

This wasn’t birds singing and sunshine.

This was hard.

And this image is important because Pope Leo is asking us something through it.

He’s giving us these tools.

He’s calling us into communion.

And he’s asking:

Who is building the digital world right now?

Who is shaping the future our children will inherit?

Targeting this modern obsession with efficiency and control, the introduction to Magnifica Humanitas sets up a profound dilemma:

Is our future going to be shaped strictly by institutional powers and algorithms?

Or will human connection still define the moral structure of society?

Because for Leo, rebuilding Jerusalem wasn’t about infrastructure.

It was about healing a society.

Nehemiah wanted to encourage personal responsibility, foster real communion, and—most importantly—restore human dignity.

That is the undercurrent of this entire encyclical.

And it leaves us with some heavy questions:

Who is going to protect that dignity?

Who will safeguard actual community?

Leo argues these questions matter now more than ever.

Artificial intelligence and digital technologies are radically reshaping every single dimension of modern life—transforming how we communicate, how we work, medicine, education, and even our closest relationships.

As the pope urgently warns:

“Never has humanity had so much power over itself.”

Leo’s great fear is a world shaped entirely from the top down by massive technological systems, detached from ordinary human relationships and moral accountability.

But he doesn’t leave us in despair.

Instead, he argues that we have a responsibility to actively participate in shaping culture, technology, economics, and politics in ways that strengthen authentic human community.

And rebels, I have to point this out.

Because in the introduction—in paragraph 11—I felt like Pope Leo himself wandered directly into the DNA of this podcast and affirmed this little ministry we have going right here.

He quotes Augustine of Hippo.

And yes, I know he’s an Augustinian, so of course he does.

But he literally quotes the quote that inspired this podcast.

So I’m taking this as a win, friends.

And that quote is:

“You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you.”

I mean...

That single line is the spiritual foundation for Rebel Saints, is it not?

God has inscribed in our hearts a desire for happiness that touches every single dimension of life.

And the Church recognizes the urgent need to safeguard that desire.

Because let’s be honest:

Underneath all our modern conversations about technology—

our distractions,

our constant connectivity,

our loneliness,

our ambition,

our anxiety,

our identity—

all of that is the same restlessness Augustine named sixteen hundred years ago.

Human beings are searching.

For meaning.

For belonging.

For communion.

For love.

And Leo builds directly onto that insight.

He argues that building a society rooted in the common good must begin by recognizing our relationship with God.

Why?

Because every person carries an innate desire for truth, fullness, and connection.

You can feel this vital question pulsing underneath the entire encyclical:

What are we actually looking for?

And is modern society guiding that desire toward truth and genuine human flourishing?

Because at its core, Magnifica Humanitas insists on one undeniable truth:

The human person is not ultimately searching for efficiency, convenience, or optimization.

We are searching for meaning.

Okay.

You guys still with me?

Let’s dive into Chapter One.

Honestly, before we even get to AI, technology, or politics, Chapter One tries to answer a fundamental question:

How does the Church move through history?

Pope Leo understands that a lot of people completely misunderstand Catholic social teaching.

Some think the Church should stay out of public life entirely—as if faith belongs exclusively inside private prayer or Sunday Mass.

I mean, have you ever heard:

“Keep your rosaries off my ovaries”?

That’s what he’s talking about here.

Others reduce Church teaching to mere politics wrapped in religious language.

But Leo clarifies:

It is neither of those things.

The Church’s social doctrine isn’t an ideology imposed on the world from above.

It comes from, as he beautifully puts it:

“A Church that walks alongside humanity.”

And that line is the heartbeat of this entire section.

Because Christianity is incarnational.

God does not save humanity from a distance.

In Jesus Christ, He takes on flesh and enters fully into human history—

our work,

our suffering,

our families,

our societies.

And because Christ entered history, the Church cannot abandon history either.

This is why Leo reminds us that every generation faces what the Church calls res novae—“new things.”

It’s a direct nod to Pope Leo XIII and Rerum Novarum.

You see, the Gospel remains the same.

The truth about human dignity never changes.

But history never stands still either.

Economies evolve.

Technologies reshape our daily rhythms.

And Pope Leo is signaling that artificial intelligence is our generation’s res novae.

It’s our new thing.

It’s not just another issue to study.

It is actively challenging how modern society understands work, creativity, authority, and even human identity itself.

That is why the Church has to speak.

Now Leo makes an important distinction here.

Catholic social teaching doesn’t exist to replace politics, science, or civil institutions.

No.

Its role is to help society discern what truly serves the common good.

Modern culture often treats faith and reason like enemies.

But Catholicism never has.

The Church believes reason and science are gifts from God that can teach us extraordinary things.

But science alone cannot answer moral questions.

Technology can increase efficiency.

But it cannot tell us if people are being treated with dignity.

Artificial intelligence can imitate human creativity.

But it cannot explain what makes a human person sacred.

And that brings us to a line that I probably circled and underlined and pointed arrows at a hundred times.

Leo writes:

“Truth is not a territory to be defended, but a good to be shared.”

That is such a profoundly Christian vision.

The Church does not exist to win ideological battles or dominate culture.

She exists to invite humanity into communion with God.

Leo traces this exact conviction through a century of papal history—from Rerum Novarum to Laborem Exercens all the way to Laudato si' and Fratelli tutti.

And the golden thread connecting every single one of those documents is the same:

The human person can never be reduced to an instrument.

Not by governments.

Not by economics.

And certainly not by technology.

That is why Chapter One is so critical for us today.

Modern society wants to measure your worth by your productivity.

Your usefulness.

How much data you can output.

But Leo opens this encyclical by reminding the world of a truth we desperately need to hear:

No government.

No market.

And no machine.

Can ever erase the inherent dignity of the human person.

And that conviction is the foundation for everything else.

Okay.

So moving into Chapter Two—

Leo shifts from history into foundations.

And I want you to think about this almost like a house.

A house has a foundation.

Then walls.

Then structure.

Chapter One asked:

How does the Church move through history?

Chapter Two asks a more basic question:

What vision of the human person is the Church actually defending?

And Leo answers this clearly.

He does not mince words.

One thing I’m noticing with this pope is that he doesn’t leave things ambiguous.

He reminds us that Catholic social teaching is not a collection of political opinions or ethical positions.

It is rooted in enduring truth about who we are.

As in—

who human beings actually are.

And he begins with the Trinity itself.

Think about it like this:

The human person is made in the image of God.

And God is relationship—

Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

That means Christianity does not view us as isolated individuals meant to navigate the world alone.

We are literally wired for communion.

With God.

With one another.

With creation itself.

And because God is love, we only discover who we truly are when we step outside self-interest and choose to love, serve, and give ourselves away.

This is exactly where Jesus Christ enters the picture.

Because Christ reveals what it means to be fully human.

Modern culture constantly chases power without sacrifice.

Freedom without responsibility.

Individuality without community.

But Christ shows us what love looks like when it is fully lived.

And that is why Catholic social teaching is not ultimately about institutions.

It is about people.

Leo insists that your dignity does not depend on your intelligence.

Your success.

Your wealth.

Your productivity.

Or your social status.

Human dignity is a gift given by God.

And that truth cuts clean through a modern culture that constantly tries to measure our worth by our achievements, our appearance, or our usefulness.

And Leo issues a fierce warning here against reducing human beings to mere tools for producing results.

You can see why this hits home in an age of artificial intelligence.

When efficiency becomes the highest cultural value, people start being treated like machines.

I saw a commercial on YouTube the other day.

It was an older man going for a job interview at some new company.

And the hiring manager was like:

“Look, we’re really excited because you have all this experience and we need that experience.”

And then all these younger employees come in, using all this new technology, talking in a language he can barely keep up with.

And you can see it on his face.

It’s not all computing.

And the subtext is basically:

“If you can’t keep up, we don’t need you. We’ll just pull the information from the machine.”

And that is such nonsense.

That’s what Leo is saying.

You cannot place efficiency above what the human person can offer.

Then Leo makes another important distinction.

He notes that some forms of dignity can rise or fall.

You can lose your confidence.

You can lose your reputation.

You can even lose moral credibility.

When I read this, I thought about people in prison.

People who have committed serious crimes.

And what Leo says is this:

Beneath all of that, there is a dignity the Church calls ontological dignity.

And that is the unshakable worth you possess simply because you were created and loved by God.

That is why Catholics go into prisons.

That is why we minister to the imprisoned.

Because they still possess dignity.

What Leo is saying is that dignity cannot be erased by failure.

By suffering.

By poverty.

By age.

By disability.

Or even by sin itself.

And honestly, this might be one of the most revolutionary things Christianity can say to the modern world right now.

Because we are so quick to cancel people.

So quick to throw people away.

From the weakest among us to the person who makes one mistake online and suddenly becomes disposable.

But if dignity is rooted only in usefulness—

or political consensus—

or social approval—

then it can be stripped away the moment we are no longer deemed useful.

But if our dignity comes from God?

Then it belongs equally to every human being.

And it cannot be revoked by governments, markets, or cultural trends.

This is precisely why the Church defends the absolute right to life.

From abortion.

To euthanasia.

To the death penalty.

And why she champions the true dignity and rights of women.

Leo even calls out organizations and countries where women still do not have rights and are treated horrifically.

And then from there, this chapter shifts into the common good.

And this is another place where Catholicism pushes back hard against modern individualism.

This is why it’s so punk.

The common good is not just whatever benefits me.

It is the set of conditions that allows entire communities to flourish together.

Leo rejects the myth that society improves automatically if everyone just selfishly pursues their own interests.

YOLO, right?

You only live once.

That kind of thinking.

But no.

We belong to one another.

We shape one another.

We are responsible for one another.

And that responsibility extends straight into politics.

Political authority exists to pursue justice and protect the vulnerable.

Leo warns that when politics becomes consumed by polarization, short-term thinking, or ideological warfare, society fractures.

Doesn’t that feel incredibly spot-on for today?

And then Leo widens the lens globally to close the chapter.

He reminds us that nations cannot survive through aggression, domination, or isolation.

Underneath every single line of this section is one consistent, unshakable conviction:

Every human being possesses a dignity that cannot be earned,

cannot be negotiated,

and cannot be taken away.

That is our foundation.

And rebels—

that is the bedrock we are standing on.

And honestly, I think this is a great place to end this portion of our deep dive into Magnifica Humanitas.

Because I don’t think you’d want to listen to me much longer.

But in the next episode, Pope Leo starts moving from this foundation straight into his take on technology itself—

this new technological revolution we’re living through—

and artificial intelligence directly.

In the next episode, I’m going to be looking at the three distinct crises that are already reshaping our daily lives.

The global stakes.

War and peace.

And, thank you Jesus—

it’s not all gloom and doom.

There is a beautiful and hopeful conclusion.

So you are not going to want to miss it.

Rebels—

if anything I do here resonates with you, come drop a comment below.

Join the conversation over on Facebook in our Restless Hearts Social Club.

Come join our Patreon for the Restless Hearts Society.

Follow us on socials.

And please, please, please—

the most amazing thing you could do—

leave a review.

And share.

Share this podcast with someone you think could use it.

I’m Nicole.

And this is Rebel Saints.

For restless hearts.

Called to be saints.

Restless heart—

you are welcome here.

Nicole Olea
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