Daily Phone Calls From Rome: Brother of Pope Leo XIV, White Sox Enthusiast
In a playful phone call the morning after Robert Prevost, now Pope Leo XIV, ascended to the Holy See, the Pope hilariously inquired about the media frenzy that had descended on his old neighborhood. The White Sox-loving Pope Leo, with a penchant for secretly trolling his brothers, was a world away from Chicago but remained committed to his roots.
Friends and family portrayed the new leader of the Roman Catholic Church as a man with an unwavering determination to tread the path he chose at a young age. Despite the burdens of leadership, he never shied away from his obligations to those who accompanied him on his journey—from South Chicago to Peru, and finally, the Vatican.
Those close to Pope Leo predicted that he would uphold Pope Francis' philosophy, but with his unique touch.
"He knew he wanted this since he was a kid," shared one brother, as his eyes welled with emotion. "No one could convince him otherwise."
As the world marveled at the smoke emanating from the Sistine Chapel chimney, signaling the start of a new papacy, John Prevost couldn't help but feel a mix of elation and melancholy. "When I heard his name, my niece started screaming. History was made."
His brother's selection, however, also meant less frequent visits from a family man who had spent most of his life placed on the altar of service to the church.
Robert Prevost's journey toward priesthood took root early in life. Self-proclaimed missionary even as a child, he left home to attend a Catholic seminary high school in Michigan, eventually rising through the ranks of the Augustinian Order.
By the age of 27, he had earned a doctor of canon law degree from Saint Thomas Aquinas University in Rome and spent years leading the Augustinian seminary in Trujillo, Peru. Dedicated to the needs of the impoverished, his comprehensive understanding of social issues and commitment to the marginalized communities laid the groundwork for his unparalleled approach to papal leadership.
Cardinal Timothy Dolan, the Archbishop of New York, initially underestimated Pope Leo's chances, considering him on the periphery. But those who knew him insisted that, while he might not have set out to become Pope, his life's work put him in a position to lead as the new leader of the world's 1.4 billion Catholics.
The Pope, with a history of secretly trolling his brothers and an avid love for the Chicago White Sox, was unexpectedly highlighted in a midwestern sports context during the height of his political commitments.
Despite his new role as the leader of the Roman Catholic Church, Pope Leo's unwavering determination to uphold his religious and family commitments remained unchanged, as he found himself thousands of miles away from his childhood home.
As the world watched in awe as Pope Leo navigated the political witnessed of the Vatican, sports fans in Chicago might have longed for the days when their beloved Pope Leo XIV would discuss the Sox rather than the latest papal edict.
