The year was 1973. The place was the Capuchin Novitiate of San Lorenzo Seminary in Santa Ynez, California. I was a novice there when I was introduced to the life of Capuchin Father Solanus Casey by Father Columban Butler, a Capuchin chaplain at nearby Vandenberg Air Force Base.

Father Columban Butler. (Submitted photo)

Father Columban had lived with Blessed Solanus, and over the course of my novitiate year he would share stories about his confrere. The common theme was his ministry to the poor and sick.

Blessed Solanus once wrote: “I have two loves: the sick and the poor, Thank God: that includes all of us! Don’t we all suffer both sickness and poverty in body, mind, or spirit at one time or another?”

Solanus’ love for the poor began by doing something very simple: answering the knock on a friary door. As a porter he opened the doors of friaries from Harlem to Detroit, welcoming those in greatest need whether they were poor physically or spiritually.

Blessed Solanus’ ministry as a porter would become a metaphor for my spirituality as a Capuchin friar later in life. But it began much earlier.

I was raised by two loving parents in a comfortable community. My dad was an architect by training. Among the architectural features of a structure that he and my mother pointed out to us was the front door of a home or building. Doors could be big or small, simple or ostentatious, but their appearance always conveyed a sense of whether you were “welcome or not.”

During my elementary school years, I had a paper route which required me to visit each house and collect a monthly fee from the owner. I always paid attention to the style of the door and the greeting of the person: Some opened the door with a friendly smile; others, with a sense of annoyance. Doors began to symbolize the “heart” of a home. These experiences formed my simple spirituality as a youngster and teenager. Years later this would be the threshold for my spirituality as a Capuchin friar — namely, through the “door of the porter.”

In religious life, the porter is the person who answers the door — and images of Capuchin friars performing this simple ministry feature throughout our order’s history. The role of a porter who welcomed everyone, especially those in greatest need, started to ground my personal spirituality as a Capuchin early on — and Blessed Solanus helped me to develop it.

Thanks to him, I learned that while I might not be working directly with the poor, I could, nonetheless, be the “friar porter” who opened a door of welcome to those who came to me with some need — great or small (Granted, that was done better at times than others!). Whether in Santa Ynez, California, or Mexico, I could imitate Blessed Solanus by answering the door to the hearts of those in need.

Bishop Elshoff is presented with his crosier during his episcopal ordination Sept. 26, 2023 at the Cathedral of Our Lady of the Angels. (Victor Alemán)

Granted, sometimes doors open slowly. Sometimes things take time. During my lengthy stays in northern Mexico with missionary friars, Blessed Solanus’ spirit guided me to look for ways to open the door of my heart to those who were truly materially poor.

Eventually, Blessed Solanus’ spirit invited me to accept my provincial’s request to minister to the people of St. Lawrence of Brindisi in Watts. My ministry at St. Lawrence “blew open” the door of my heart. As I was becoming more at home with this “wider, open door” experience, life changed one day — in Assisi, Italy, of all places.  

I was on a pilgrimage when the phone rang at midnight. The cell phone read “Washington, D.C.” Thinking it was spam, I ignored it. The calls continued and when I reached Rome, I finally called back.

The voice on the other end of the line was that of the Apostolic Nuncio to the U.S. Archbishop (now Cardinal) Christophe Pierre. He informed me that I had been appointed an auxiliary bishop for the Archdiocese of Los Angeles.

Bishop Matthew Elshoff had a relic belonging to Blessed Father Solanus Casey, OFM Cap., embedded in his new bishop’s staff, or crozier. Casey, a Capuchin from Detroit who died in 1957, earned a reputation for his inspiring counsel and healing hands. (Pablo Kay)

At this point, the spirit of Blessed Solanus was part of my life more than ever. As I recovered from the shock of the news, I knew I wanted him to be a central part of my episcopal ministry.  The line from the Book of Revelation, “Behold I stand at the door and knock,” took on a whole new meaning for me.

With him in mind, I began with a simple step. I requested a relic of Solanus and had it embedded in my crosier, the staff carried by bishops that resembles a shepherd’s crook. With Blessed Solanus’ relic planted in the node of the crosier (literally where I would place my hand), I would use his spirit to lead and guide me in my new duties as a shepherd.

When Archbishop José H. Gomez asked me to serve as the regional bishop of the Our Lady of Angels Pastoral Region, I was thrilled. The area includes South Los Angeles, among the most economically challenged in the city. Clearly, Blessed Solanus’ hand — and his spirit — was at work.

Over the past year I have been blessed to work with many parishes who actively engage in “opening the door” to the poor and disenfranchised. They have also opened their doors to me. These parishes are located not only in areas of economic scarcity, but also economic prosperity.  I have come to see that one aspect of my ministry as a regional bishop is to encourage parishes with greater economic security to partner with those who have little or none. I was starting to understand how “more would be revealed.”

With my hand touching his relic as I grasp my crosier, I know that Blessed Solanus will continue to open the hearts of many throughout the Archdiocese of Los Angeles. In my case, the image is that of a Capuchin porter who continues to “open new doors” for me. Blessed Solanus, pray for us.