"I'm not afraid."

With these three words Sunday morning, Pope Leo XIV offered as powerful a rebuke of President Donald Trump and everything he has wrought on the world as anyone ever has.

Three words that mocked Trump for being the bully that he is.

Three words that undercut Trump's self-hyped aura of invincibility.

Three words to inspire all good people to fight against Trump — because if a mild-mannered man of God such as Leo isn't afraid, no one should be.

Pope Leo's words thrilled me as an American but especially as a Catholic. His quiet, confident witness since becoming pontiff in May had already reignited a spiritual light in me to adhere closer to the faith I was brought up in.

Trump's actions during his second term — war, deportations, nasty rhetoric and a love of himself above all else — have been like fuel to that fire. They stand against everything I was ever taught was good and holy.

Hearing Leo's simple smackdown of the president, at a time when too many people insist we must sink to Trump's lows to beat him, is like receiving a sacrament I never knew I needed.

Leo spoke a few hours after Trump trashed him on social media, calling him "WEAK on Crime, and terrible for Foreign Policy" — all because of the pope's critiques of perpetual wars and this country's vile treatment of undocumented immigrants, while never mentioning anyone by name.

Until now.

"I'm not afraid of the Trump administration or of speaking out loudly about the message of the Gospel, which is what the church works for," he told reporters while traveling to Algeria to kick off a 10-day African mission. He repeated the message later, stating: "I have no fear."

In response, Trump melted down like the Nazis at the end of "Raiders of the Lost Ark," critiquing the pope to reporters and then posting an image on social media of himself as a robed savior healing a sick man, light emanating from his hands.

This pathetic fusillade offended even Catholic League President Bill Donohue, who has made a career of trashing liberal Catholics and who defended Trump last year after the president shared an image of himself in papal robes and mitre after the death of Pope Francis. This time, Donohue deemed Trump's Christ-like imagery "offensive and immature."

The president has a lot to fear these days, and not just because he violated most of the Ten Commandments with his bonkers Jesus post, which quickly disappeared. One of the few sane adults left in his administration must have reminded him that antagonizing Catholics is a terrible political move. About 55% of them voted for him in the 2024 election, many in swing states such as Nevada, Pennsylvania and Wisconsin that had sided with Joe Biden — a Catholic — four years before.

A Fox News poll released last week found that only 48% of Catholics nationwide approve of Trump's overall performance. While 57% of white Catholics still support Trump, a majority of them aren't happy with his actions in Iran — the issue that's turning out to be a millstone around his neck.

Trump's second term has been a nightmare that seems to worsen every day. Yet not only is this country still standing, but more and more people are waking up to the mockery he's made of American values. One of the new warriors is Leo, who told reporters he spoke out not to sway politics in his home country, but to offer, in his role as head of the world's 1.4 billion Catholics, a reminder of what Jesus practiced and preached.

No wonder Trump, who wants to erect idols to himself like a Canaanite king, is so upset.

May Leo's words wake up more good people, regardless of their faith, to rise against Trump — and especially stir lapsed Catholics to return to Mother Church.

U.S. Catholics have long served as a barometer of acceptance for newcomers and the working class. But only about 20% of Americans identify as Catholic, per a Pew Research Center study released last year. And only 30% of those Catholics attend Mass weekly. Many more leave the faith than adopt it, at rates that far exceed other Christian denominations. This collapse has allowed the Catholic church's conservative wing to take over, departing from the historic mission and instead leading us to Trump.

My lifelong commitment to social justice and my eternal skepticism of power and avarice comes from what I learned growing up at St. Boniface in Anaheim. I even had aspirations to become a priest, because I find few things more noble than dedicating your life to helping others.

I stopped attending Mass once I began covering the church's sex abuse scandals as a journalist. I was outraged that men who held themselves up to be the custodians of God on Earth not only allowed such crimes to happen but usually covered them up and shunted off the offenders to poor parishes like mine.

I never stopped praying or considering myself a Catholic — but I couldn't bring myself to support institutions headed by men such as L.A. Archbishop José H. Gómez and Diocese of Orange Bishop Kevin Vann, who always seem to have sharp words for progressives but never for Trump.

It's been a long road back for me to openly write about my faith with pride — but Trump's continued heresies have made it necessary. I still don't know when or if I'll start attending Mass again regularly, but the fact that I'm even thinking about it shows Leo's impact on me.

Recently, someone I was interviewing noticed my scapular of the Santo Niño de Atocha with the word "Amor" on the other side. Last year, I tucked this simple necklace that's a sign of devotion inside the plastic sleeve holding my Los Angeles Times badge, along with a few religious medals.

Pope Leo caused that. Trump caused that. Any chance to talk about my Catholic faith and why Trump is bad, I'm going to take.

I'm not afraid.

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