In 452 AD, Pope St. Leo the Great rode out to meet Attila the Hun, who was threatening to overtake and destroy Rome.
To that point, Attila the Hun was one of history’s most feared figures, a complex blend of brutal warrior and shrewd diplomat. As the ruler of the Huns, a nomadic people who swept into Europe from Central Asia, terrorizing both the Eastern and Western Roman Empires, he led an unstoppable force representing the near collapse of Western civilization and the rise of raw power.
At that time, to meet Attila was to meet with the most feared and most powerful man in the world. Seemingly no one could defeat or even slow down the power of his army. What he wanted, he took. And next on his list was Rome.
When Attila reached the city of Rome, Pope Leo rode out to meet him at the River Mincio near Mantua. While we don’t know exactly what was said, we know what happened. Attila unexpectedly withdrew his army and spared Rome.
Later legends say Attila saw a vision of St. Peter and St. Paul standing behind Leo with drawn swords, warning him to obey the pope’s request. Whatever the cause, Leo’s intervention saved the city from destruction and established the papacy’s moral authority as the spiritual bulwark of civilization.
The legend of this exchange lives on, but what’s often forgotten is that Leo didn’t just save a city; he helped save a culture ordered to the dignity of the human person.
Defending More Than Walls
Leo lived at a time when civilization itself was crumbling. The Roman Empire was collapsing, pagan tribes were destroying what remained of classical culture, and the very idea of what it meant to be human was under threat.
In the chaos, Leo didn’t just protect buildings, he protected meaning. He preserved the Christian vision of humanity: that each person is created in the image of God, that the divine and the human are not at odds, and that grace perfects nature rather than erasing it.
What saved western civilization wasn’t a massive army equipped with the best of technology. It was a man of great faith armed with the truth of what it means to be human and why it matters to the human experience.
In other words, he saved the world from the suffering of total disintegration.
A New Kind of Barbarian
Fifteen hundred years later, the Church faces a new invasion—not from outside armies, but from inside our own inventions. Today, it’s not Attila’s horsemen but algorithms and machines that flatten our understanding of what it means to be human.
We live in an age when artificial intelligence can paint, compose music, and even perform therapy sessions, and in some studies, outperform human therapists, exposing how low the bar is and how central relationship really is.”
The problem isn’t that technology is evil. It’s that we’ve forgotten what it’s for. Tools are meant to serve the person, not replace the person. When we start treating the machine as the goal instead of the means, we lose sight of the very thing Leo defended: the dignity of being human.
The Church Has Been Here Before…Once Again with a Pope Leo
Pope Leo XIII faced a similar moment during the Industrial Revolution. The world was being reshaped by machines, labor was being dehumanized, and the Church seemed out of step with “progress.”
In response, he wrote Rerum Novarum, one of the most prophetic encyclicals in modern history, reminding the world that the worker is not a cog in a system but a person made in the image of God.
Now, a century later, we are given a new Leo, a new voice to proclaim the same truth for the age of artificial intelligence.
We need a Rerum Novarum for AI. A vision that proclaims:
- The person is always greater than the process.
- Creativity is born of communion, not computation.
- Love cannot be automated.
What It Means to Be Human
The question our culture is asking, sometimes without knowing it, is simple: what is a person?
If a machine can think, feel, and even mimic compassion, what makes us different?
The Church has the answer. Our difference isn’t in data or efficiency, it’s in relationship. We are made for communion. We are made to know and be known.
When the world starts asking that question, the Church has an opportunity to respond—not just with criticism, but with charity and clarity. To proclaim with great faith and great clarity, the dignity of every human life.
The New Frontier of Integration
So, how do we stay human in an age of machines? The answer, as it has always been, begins with the Incarnation. God became man. Heaven entered history. The divine met the dust. And grace builds on the nature given to us by God.
Every time we forget that, civilization crumbles a little more. Every time we remember it, something in us—and in our world—is saved.
Pope St. Leo the Great didn’t just save a city; he helped save a culture ordered to the dignity of the human person.”
May we have the courage to do the same.