Why Chicago loves da pope

In my previous piece about Pope Leo XIV, I discussed last weekend’s social media buzz around the first American pope’s love of baseball.

Unfortunately, the article went to press before I could confirm one crucial detail: The pope is a White Sox fan.

For every meme of the pope wearing a Sox jersey, someone else is crying because the pope used to go to her high school or speaks with his accent.

“He was never ever a Cubs fan, so I don’t know where that came from. He was always a Sox fan,” the new pope’s younger brother, John Prevost, told WGN TV.

White smoke, White Sox

Footage even emerged on Friday afternoon showing a younger Pope Leo in the stands for Game 1 of the Sox’s historic 2005 World Series sweep of the Houston Astros.

The news was also confirmed by Cincinnati Reds fan Vice President JD Vance, who joked that Pope Leo’s White Sox fandom may be good for his spirituality.

“I had a friend of mine that had a pretty funny take on this,” recalled Vance. “He said, ‘If Pope Leo really is a Chicago White Sox fan, then he’s already actually faced the stress of martyrdom multiple times,’ so maybe we have a real winner in the new Holy Father.”

Sorry, Cubs.

No word on whether club chairman Tom Ricketts’ invitation for Pope Leo to sing “Take Me Out to the Ball Game” at Wrigley Field still stands.

Da memes

Despite enduring some jabs for prematurely claiming Pope Leo as one of their own, Cubs fans seem undeterred, cranking out just as much Leo-themed merchandise and memes as their crosstown rivals.

The sheer number of “da pope” memes, shirts, posters, and bobble-heads that have been made in the past few days shows that Chicagoans love being the hometown of the new Holy Father. One local restaurant chain even named an Italian beef sandwich after the pope, while another local pizza joint is seeing skyrocketing business after it was revealed that the pope ate there. The buzz has yet to die down!

As it turns out, Chicagoans of all baseball persuasions have fallen head over heels for Pope Leo in the past few days.

It all seems a little provincial compared to the significance of the larger milestone: that an American from anywhere in the country made the cut.

American pious

Catholic commentators have long thought the Church would be unlikely ever to choose a leader from a country already so dominant in politics, economics, and culture. Africa or South America, where much of Catholicism’s recent growth has occurred, seemed much more likely candidate pools.

That’s why so many Americans are trying to find a message behind the papal conclave’s choice of Cardinal Prevost. What made an American so uniquely suited to this moment in Catholic history, given America’s history of Protestant anti-clericalism and its dubious distinction of being one of the only countries in history to have a heresy named after it?

Was this a statement about the remarkable revival of the Church in America (through folks like Bishop Barron and Fr. Mike Schmitz) or a warning that its vocal “trad” element needs to be more like the politically moderate Pope Leo XIV?

The Chicago way

Back in my native Chicago, any such speculation seems fairly abstract when compared to the ever-present buzz of excitement. Midwest Americans feel a connection to the pope they’ve never felt before.

This is particularly true in Chicago, where Polish, Irish, German, Slavic, Italian, and Hispanic Catholic communities are deeply rooted in the city’s identity and people. For every meme of the pope wearing a Sox jersey, someone else is crying because the pope used to go to her high school or speaks with his accent, creating a new level of identification they’ve never felt with their spiritual father.

Local clergy and laypeople I’ve spoken to in the last few days are bursting with excitement that a graduate of the South Side’s Catholic Theological Union — and a man with whom they share myriad personal connections — is now the supreme pontiff.

Fellow Chicago native and Catholic apologist Bishop Robert Barron put it well in a video last Friday, reflecting how touching it is to have grown up in the same milieu as Pope Leo. They are only a few years apart in age.

“He’s not only an American; he’s from Chicago. He’s from my hometown,” said Barrron. “In fact, he grew up in Dalton, and I grew up in Western Springs. [In good traffic] I could get to Dalton in 25 minutes.”

Barron couldn’t resist pointing out one crucial way in which he dissents from Pope Leo: “I’m a Cubs fan.”

Chi-town represent

Regardless of team — or even religious affiliation — it’s a powerful thing to see yourself represented in such a significant institution. As my friends have put it, it is both surreal and intensely moving to hear a pope speak English with an American accent.

Especially moved are those who grew up in the neighborhoods that Pope Leo lived and served in. I’m seeing Facebook friends, many who aren’t Catholic, share with obvious pride that their family members went to the same high school as the pope.

As Chicago Mayor Brandon Johnson says, “This is a tremendous moment for our Catholic community and for all Chicagoans.”

I can’t say I’m not enjoying it myself. However, as much fun as it is to see all the Mike Ditka and “da Bears” jokes, I must admit I am getting queasy from the memes showing the Eucharist replaced with a deep dish pizza. And the wine replaced with Malort.

Setting aside the mild sacrilege, I don’t like the idea of getting a heartburn from holy communion.