Pope Leo XIV stood before Spanish bishops on Monday and called sexual violence by Catholic clergy a "scourge", strong language from the first American-born pope, delivered in a country where an estimated 200,000 minors have suffered abuse at the hands of the Church since 1940.
The 70-year-old pontiff used his seven-day visit to Spain to address the crisis head-on, at least rhetorically. But even as the Vatican promised a private meeting with victims in Madrid, representatives of some victim groups said they had been shut out, raising a familiar question about whether the Church's words will ever match its actions.
The pope's remarks to Spanish bishops came ahead of an expected meeting with abuse survivors at the Vatican embassy in Madrid, formally known as the apostolic nunciature. The Vatican confirmed a meeting would take place during the visit but declined to provide further details until afterward, citing "respect for the victims." Spanish media reported the meeting was scheduled for later Monday.
Pope Leo XIV did not hold back when addressing the bishops. As CBS News reported, the pope framed the abuse crisis as a direct betrayal of the Church's foundational duty of care. Reuters captured his remarks:
"One of the most painful encounters is with those who have been wounded precisely by those who were supposed to care for them, including members of the clergy."
He followed that with a call for institutional accountability:
"Faced with this scourge, the ecclesial community is called to respond with listening, truth, justice, reparation and an ever more determined commitment to prevention and a culture of care."
The pope also said that every victim "must be able to find sincere listening, welcome, protection and real paths to healing." On Saturday, during the flight to Madrid, he told reporters the scandal remained "still an open wound" for the Church, a phrase that, for many victims in Spain, barely scratches the surface.
The scale of the crisis in Spain is staggering. A 2023 report from Spain's national ombudsman estimated that around 200,000 minors suffered sexual violence at the hands of Catholic clergy in the country since 1940. That figure covers more than eight decades of abuse, and decades of institutional silence from the Church hierarchy.
Only this past March did Prime Minister Pedro Sanchez's government and the Catholic Church in Spain finally sign an agreement to compensate victims. That deal followed years of what the source material describes as "reticence" from Church leadership. For victims who endured abuse as children and spent their adult lives waiting for acknowledgment, the timeline speaks for itself.
The compensation agreement's full terms remain unclear. So does the methodology behind the ombudsman's estimate. But the number, 200,000, is not in dispute. It sits at the center of Spain's reckoning with an institution that, for generations, enjoyed enormous trust and cultural authority.
Even as Pope Leo XIV spoke about listening and healing, at least one prominent victim advocacy group said the Church was doing neither. Juan Cuatrecasas, spokesman for the association Infancia Robada, translated as Stolen Childhood, told AFP that representatives of some victim groups had been excluded from the pope's expected private meeting.
"We are disappointed that the pope, instead of listening to a sufficiently large and solid representation of victims, prefers to leave us out."
Cuatrecasas added that his group would not stop pressing for access:
"We are going to keep pushing until the end, insisting that the Pope has to see us, has to hear us, we have a voice."
The Vatican offered no explanation for which victims or groups were included and which were not. The gap between the pope's call for "sincere listening" and the complaints of organized victim groups is hard to miss. If the Church wants to demonstrate a genuine culture of care, controlling which victims get heard is a poor way to start.
The abuse remarks were only one thread of a densely scheduled visit. The day before his speech to parliament, Pope Leo XIV celebrated an open-air mass in central Madrid that drew more than 1.5 million people. On Monday, he addressed a joint session of the Spanish Parliament at the Congress of Deputies, a first for a pope in Spain. Lawmakers greeted him with a lengthy standing ovation.
In his parliamentary address, the pope covered ground well beyond clergy abuse. He urged lawmakers to defend life "from conception to its natural end", a pointed message in a country whose left-wing government has legalized euthanasia under strict conditions and is pursuing constitutional protections for abortion rights.
He also waded into immigration, calling for "safe and legal pathways" and insisting migrants deserve "a respectful welcome and real opportunities for integration." That language lands differently in a country where Spain's main conservative Popular Party and the third-largest political force, Vox, have pressured Sanchez's government over its relatively liberal immigration policy. The Canary Islands, where the pope will travel Thursday and Friday, have become one of the main entry points for migrants entering Europe without permission, many arriving on perilous journeys from Africa.
The pope plans to pay tribute to migrants who lost their lives at sea during that leg of the trip. Sanchez is scheduled to join him there.
Pope Leo XIV also addressed armed conflict, calling it a "tragic drama" and describing the defense of peace as a "true global imperative." He urged "patient dialogue" over force.
"Weapons may impose a temporary silence but they can never build a genuine and lasting peace."
The pope's anti-war posture has drawn criticism. The source text notes that Pope Leo XIV, like Sanchez, has faced sharp criticism from President Trump for his views on war and peace. The pope did not address that criticism directly during his Spanish visit.
Later in the week, the pope will travel to Barcelona to bless the new tower of the Sagrada Familia Basilica, Antoni Gaudi's still-unfinished masterpiece, which recently became the world's tallest church. The visit will wrap up in the Canary Islands on Friday.
There is no question Pope Leo XIV chose forceful language in Madrid. Calling clergy abuse a "scourge" and an "open wound" goes further than some of his predecessors were willing to go publicly. But language is the easy part. The Catholic Church has been issuing statements of regret and pledging reform for years, and yet it took until 2023 for Spain's ombudsman to quantify the damage, and until March of this year for the Church to agree to compensate victims at all.
The real test is structural. Which victims get into the room? Who decides what "reparation" looks like? How does a global institution with 1.4 billion members hold its own clergy accountable when the hierarchy spent decades looking the other way?
Juan Cuatrecasas and Infancia Robada are still waiting for answers. So are thousands of other survivors across Spain who have lived with the consequences of the Church's failures for far longer than any papal visit lasts.
A pope can denounce a scourge. Only sustained, transparent action can end one. The Church's record on that front gives no one reason for confidence.
