Pope Leo XIV, our first deep-dish pope, seems like quite a good fellow. He was born in Chicago as Robert Francis Prevost, lived on the South Side (meaning White Sox fan, so he knows suffering), and spent many years doing missionary work with the poor in Peru. His emphasis on Christ-like themes of peace, helping the poor, loving one's neighbor, and welcoming the stranger, of course, has angered Donald Trump.

Trump seems to fit in well with some of history's lesser popes.

Pope Alexander VI, better known as Rodrigo Borgia, and his scandalous family merited a Showtime series. Trump might appreciate how Borgia fathered several children with many mistresses. Trump's grifting in office echoes how Borgia reportedly bought the papacy by bribing fellow electors.

Pope Stephen VI, 896-897, could not give up a grudge against his predecessor, Pope Formosus. Though Formosus had been dead for months, Stephen VI had him dug up, dressed in papal robes, placed on a throne, and put on trial. Following the pre-ordained conviction, the body was dragged through the streets and dumped in the river. Trump's bizarre and bogus attempts to prosecute his political opponents (often tossed quickly by judges and juries) smell a lot like Stephen VI.

Pope Boniface VII, 1294-1303, was a "my way or the highway" kind of guy, tried to put all the armies of Europe under his command. He earned Dante Aligheri's enmity; the author gave him a permanent spot in the eighth circle of hell. Trump's militarism and comic mockery of the horrors of war seem to fit the Boniface VII model.