Unless your head’s been buried in the sand—or maybe just stuck under a hay bale— you’ve probably seen the puff of white smoke and the worldwide headlines: the Catholic Church has elected its first-ever North American pope. For many lifelong Catholics, this was something folks used to joke about, not expect. “Growing up Catholic, it was always kind of the joke that there would never be an American pope,” said Father Danny Grover of St. Matthew’s Catholic Church in Elk City.
This time, the punchline became papal. Pope Leo XIV, born Robert Francis Prevost, grew up not in Rome or Rio, but in Dolton, Illinois—a suburb of Chicago where the backyard was just as likely to have a baseball glove as a Bible. He’s a White Sox fan, a Wordle player, and reportedly has a weakness for steak. You could say, for the first time, we’ve got a baseball, apple pie, and Chevrolet pope.
“It’s weird,” Grover said. “I’m not used to having that close of a connection to the pope. I’ve got classmates that know him. He went to Villanova. It’s surreal.” For a guy who grew up watching the papacy from afar, it’s suddenly a small world. Or, as some locals might say, we’re just one degree of separation away from the Vatican.
Pope Leo’s brothers, Louis and John, have shared stories that feel less like sainthood and more like Saturday mornings in the Midwest. One brother remembers Robert playing ‘priest’ as a kid—using Necco wafers for communion and an ironing board as an altar. It’s safe to say he’s probably the only pope in history whose sacramental training began in the living room.
Of course, the pope isn’t just America’s cousin anymore— he’s also the spiritual head of 1.3 billion Catholics worldwide. But what exactly does that mean? Grover explained it this way: “The pope is kind of like the King Arthur role—he’s the greatest among equals. Yes, he is the leader of the Church. However, the actual leader of the Church is Jesus Christ.”
Unlike a political leader, the pope doesn’t campaign or rule by decree. “The Church is apolitical. It’s neither conservative nor progressive,” Grover said. “There are certain rules in the Church that even the pope doesn’t have the authority to change.” His authority is guided by what’s called the Magisterium—a teaching body that includes cardinals and bishops from around the globe. “If you think it’s hard to pass a bill in Congress, imagine getting bishops from every country in the world to agree.”
One of the biggest misconceptions Grover encounters? That the pope is infallible in everything he says. “Infallibility only applies in matters of dogma,” he clarifi ed. “And only twice in history has the pope spoken infallibly from the Chair of St. Peter. Both times it had to do with Mary.”
For those of us in Western Oklahoma—where a steeple might be harder to spot than a Sonic—this new pope might not change the number of Masses, but he just might change how relatable the position feels. “Everyone is human. Everyone is fallible, except Jesus,” Grover said. “We have more in common as Christian brothers and sisters than we have different.”
Grover added that baptism, regardless of denomination, is a shared sacrament of belonging. “When you’re baptized in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit—you are claimed by Christ,” he said. “That’s true whether you were baptized in the Baptist Church, Lutheran, Methodist, Church of Christ, or Catholic Church.”
As for one of the Church’s most misunderstood teachings— the Eucharist—Grover didn’t hesitate to clarify. “John Chapter 6 is where we go for the Eucharist. When Jesus says, ‘Unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life within you,’ we take that literally.” No metaphors here— just bread, wine, and belief.
Despite the heavy theology, Grover speaks like a man who knows how to keep things simple. “God loves you. Your sins don’t define who you are,” he said. “As Catholics, when it comes to the Sacrament of Reconciliation, it’s not about wash, rinse, repeat—it’s about wash, rise, and repent.” You could almost picture it on a bumper sticker outside a fish fry.
At the end of the day, what makes this new pope stand out isn’t just that he’s American— it’s that he feels familiar. He’s someone who calls his brother to joke after being elected. He’s someone who likely knows the difference between Chicago-style and New York-style pizza. He’s someone with roots—and for many, that makes the Vatican feel just a little bit closer to home.
