On January 22, Crux announced the sad news of the passing of its editor, John L. Allen Jr., after a long battle with cancer, just two days after his 61st birthday.
John was perhaps the best Vatican beat reporter of the English-speaking world. After seventeen years with the National Catholic Reporter, he joined the Boston Globe’s Crux team, eventually becoming its CEO and editor-in-chief when the organization went independent. When it came to Church happenings, he was ever informed, fair, and objective—the consummate Catholic journalist. He was also a prolific author, penning eleven books himself in addition to two published conversations with Cardinal Timothy Dolan (A People of Hope) and Bishop Barron (To Light a Fire on the Earth).
While I never met John in person beyond emails and a brief video chat, I had the privilege of serving as the editor for his eleventh and final book, released in 2023 through Word on Fire. The project first took shape in December 2020—you might remember the year—under the working title Cacophony: The Catholic Media Landscape in the Early 21st Century.
When John submitted the manuscript in 2022, it had a new title: Catholics and Contempt: How Catholic Media Fuel Today’s Fights, and What to Do About It. It was the only book he would write on the very thing to which he had dedicated his adult life: news and media.
It’s a wonderful book, one that surveys the present-day landscape and then examines six case studies, drawn from around the world, of the “culture of contempt” wreaking havoc in the Church through media both right- and left-leaning, and both old and new. Indeed, in the introduction, John includes an example of this phenomenon drawn from his own experience: a hit piece from a popular online pundit aimed at John’s personal life. The piece, he reflects, contained key errors and omissions, and was clearly aimed at “wounding perceived professional and ideological rivals.” As John’s book shows, this insatiable lust to wound one’s opponents, whatever the cost—often online—is the modus operandi of the culture of contempt, and, increasingly, of Catholic media.
Countering this culture clearly mattered to John, not just professionally but personally. Elise Allen, in her tribute to her husband, notes that the number 1 lesson from John’s life is: “Be gracious. In a world where anger and contempt often dominate our interactions with others, John would always say, ‘Just be gracious.’” And in his own tribute, Bishop Barron noted, “Many people talk about building bridges and bringing warring factions together, but John actually did those things, both through his graceful writing and his personal charm.” And Crux remained, and remains, a steady and unbiased source for solid Catholic news in America. This legacy played no small part, I’m sure, in John and Elise being awarded the first official interview of our first pope from the United States, Leo XIV.
But John didn’t just lead by example personally; he also offered a vision for how the Church—especially for those involved in media—might better resist the spirit of contempt institutionally. In the first chapter of the book, “A Mission Statement for the Catholic Press,” John reflects:
If we want to swim against today’s tide of polarization, acrimony, and tribalism, then we have to carve out spaces where Catholics of differing outlooks and temperaments can meet one another and become friends. It’s not about formal dialogue programs, where people come together and debate their differences, which usually deepens the divides rather than ameliorating them. Instead, it’s about natural, organic, unforced, and unscripted moments in which people connect on a basic human level rather than as exponents of a particular position. For that to happen, they need places of encounter. The best option is always face-to-face, in person, but where that isn’t possible, Catholic media can also play a subsidiary role in carving out such spaces in the virtual sphere. There’s an infinite range of ways in which media outlets might draw people out of their usual antagonisms and provide them opportunities to interact in ways prone to foster friendships. I’ve often thought, for example, of doing a series with prominent Catholics from the various camps to discuss their favorite meals. Over the centuries, food (and drink, of course) has often been the glue that’s held Catholicism together; even when bishops couldn’t agree over who was the legitimate pope, they were still able to sit down and share a plate of bucatini all’amatriciana while they hashed it out. I see no reason why the dinner table can’t come to our rescue again today, and that’s merely one possibility. The point is that Catholic media outlets must be intentional about seeking them out.
A vivid example of this “Catholic Commons,” to use John’s term, was a series of dinners with Catholics from across the theological and political spectrum hosted by Tim Busch, the conservative founder of the Napa Institute. Busch has spoken—in America magazine, no less—on forming a lasting friendship with Father James Martin through those gatherings. Such gestures may be anathema to the culture of contempt, but their aroma is of the kingdom of God.
While Busch’s personal efforts are as laudable as John’s, it should be clear to all of us that the latter’s broader vision—this instinct being operationalized in the Catholic media landscape and becoming the rule, not the exception—remains far from us, and that working toward it is perhaps more urgent and timely than ever. Indeed, Pope Leo has made Christian unity a signal theme of the first year of his pontificate. If our divided world is to find healing, John saw, the Church must first become unified herself—and a digital “Catholic Commons” might just help us to do it.
So, let’s get to work, with real hope for success: because, to quote John himself from the final lines of his book, “The Church’s natural instinct to find the proper balance between the two extremes sooner or later always reasserts itself. If the gates of hell won’t prevail against it, neither will the culture of contempt.”















