Legions of metro Detroit Catholics knew Father Solanus Casey as a miracle worker.
And on Saturday, the Catholic Church officially recognized the Capuchin friar as one too, declaring him “Blessed Solanus” in a beatification ceremony at Detroit’s Ford Field.
The rare ceremony put Casey, who co-founded the Capuchin Soup Kitchen, one step and one miracle away from being declared a Catholic saint. Detroit's ceremony was the third time a beatification mass has occurred in the U.S.
The event brought a worldwide spotlight to Detroit and the legendary priest, whose prayers and presence gave comfort to visitors suffering from illness and trauma when he was the doorkeeper of St. Bonaventure Monastery on the city's east side in 1924-45. Casey died in 1957.
"I've been waiting for this day for 14 years," said Lily Flask of Livonia, who believes Casey's intercession helped save her husband from heart problems in 2003. "I prayed every day to him. ... I had to be here today."
Flask and her husband, Salvino, were standing outside Ford Field waiting in line for what was expected to be the largest Catholic service in Michigan since 1987, when the Pope presided over a mass at the Silverdome in Pontiac.
Casey was beatified Saturday because the Vatican and its experts said there was no scientific explanation of how a woman’s genetic, disfiguring skin disease disappeared in the hours after she prayed at Casey’s tomb.
Cardinal Angelo Amato, the prefect for the Vatican’s Congregation for the Causes of Saints, presided at the mass and led the rite of beatification.
As the near-capacity crowd stood, Amato, wearing a large golden mitre, read out loud in Latin an Apostolic Letter from Pope Francis bestowing on the Detroit Capuchin the honorific “Blessed Solanus."
The crowd applauded as Amato stood up to display the decree. Detroit Archbishop Allen Vigneron read an English version.
The church decrees, said Vigneron at 4:22 p.m. “that the venerable servant of God, Francis Solanus, known in the world as Bernard Casey … a humble and faithful disciple of Christ, tireless in serving the poor … henceforth be called by the name of Blessed.”
A life-size banner of Blessed Solanus was unfurled on the altar platform.
A place of dreamings
On the altar platform with the Catholic clergy was Paula Medina Zarate, a retired schoolteacher from Panama whose skin disease was healed after she prayed at Casey’s tomb in Detroit.
“Detroit is the place of my dreamings now,” said Zarate, through tears during a phone call this month. “I never expected to find life in a tomb.”
The presence of Zarate, carrying a wooden cross-shaped reliquary containing relics of bone removed from Casey’s remains, had special significance in Detroit — a city whose residents are about 80% African-American. Only a small percentage of Catholics in the U.S. are black.
Earlier, when Detroit's Vigneron delivered an official request for beatification, his voice seemed to break with emotion. He noted how “countless faithful have awaited this moment” and asked that Casey’s name be added to the church’s roster of Blessed men and women.
Brother Richard Merling, a Capuchin friar who worked for decades as the co-vice postulator for Casey’s sainthood cause, told the crowd about Casey’s life of service.
“In time of trouble and sorrow, they sought his prayers and advice. Many people believed he had the gifts of healing and prophecy,” said Merling, about Casey’s job greeting visitors at the monastery’s door. “He constantly showed his love of God by loving all God’s people” and told the faithful: “I have two loves, the sick and the poor.”
There were about 500 priests at the Ford Field mass; dignitaries included Detroit archdiocese’s retired leader, Cardinal Adam Maida, and the pope’s apostolic nuncio to the U.S., Archbishop Christophe Pierre.
Other cardinals were Boston Cardinal Sean O’Malley and Newark, N.J., Cardinal Joseph Tobin, a native-born Detroiter and former pastor of the parish where he was raised, Holy Redeemer in southwest Detroit.
Tobin said he came for the beatification because Casey “is a Detroit saint, and he speaks to every Detroiter, and the ones who are looked over or forgotten.”
Tobin’s sister, metro Detroit businesswoman Gerarda Tobin, led the planning committee for the beatification
Fans of the plain-spoken Casey were pleased to gather at the home of the Detroit Lions. Officials had distributed nearly 70,000 tickets, and despite the rain a Detroit Archdiocese spokesperson said the event was attended by about 60,000.
Janie Graves, 64, of Royal Oak was set on attending the beatification rain or shine. Graves’ son, Jason Graves, 30, is a Capuchin deacon who will be at the altar saying mass at the beatification and will take his vows in January, Janie Graves said.
“We’re just overjoyed to be here to be witness of this,” said Janie Graves, who was in attendance with her husband, David Graves, 59, and daughter Catherine Graves, 26.
“I think that this is a wonderful thing for the whole country because Solanus was such a person of the people, he was so relatable,” Catherine Graves said, adding: “He was really just a person of the people. So I think that’s why there’s such a great turnout here today.”
Blessed Solanus is the first American-born male that the Catholic Church has recognized as a "miracle worker,” said Rocco Palmo, a Philadelphia-based Vatican observer who authors the Catholic news website WhispersInTheLoggia.com.
“The Catholic Church in this country has never seen anything like this,” of tens of thousands of the faithful coming to witness such a ceremony, said Palmo.
While the Catholic Church has recognized about a dozen Catholic saints whose ministry took place in what is now the U.S., none of them have been American-born males.
Casey becomes the third-American born person to currently hold the title of Blessed. And Saturday’s ceremony was only the third time a beatification was held on U.S. soil.
Family reunion
There were more than 300 relatives of Casey at the ceremony, seated in sections directly in front of the altar. They came from as far as Ireland. Many wore buttons with Casey's photo, and ribbons embossed with his famous saying "Thank God Ahead of Time" and "Casey Family."
Carol Daly was their with her grandson, Chase Kosoglow, 5 months, of Sacramento, who probably earned the title of youngest Casey relative in attendance. Daly and her four sisters were in attendance, all of them granddaughters of Blessed Solanus' youngest sister Genevieve Casey McCluskey.
"It's a blessing and an honor to be here and to bring a small child here," said Daly, of Sacramento. "We'll have a story to tell him."
Her daughter-in-law, Kate Kosoglow, said that whenever someone asked her why she was planning a trip to Detroit, she gleefully explained: "My husband's great-great uncle is getting beatified."
Her parish priest told her: "That's super cool. Nobody in my family is worth beatifying."
Casey’s elevation illustrates “ordinary people who bring Jesus to the world around them,” said Palmo, something anyone can do, and all of us are called to do.
“In an age of polarization and noise, it’s almost poetic that a priest who was deemed unworthy to ever preach a sermon or hear confessions has become the U.S.’s first native-born miracle worker among the clergy,” said Palmo.
The beatification tickets were keepsakes, adorned by a Tau Cross to evoke an ancient symbol of Jesus’ cross and often carried by Franciscan and Capuchin friars. On the large video screens that normally carry football highlights, Casey’s serene image was featured.
Next steps to sainthood
Now that Casey’s declared “blessed”, his image can be included in paintings and statues inside churches throughout southeastern Michigan. More Catholic pilgrims will visit the Father Solanus Center on Detroit’s east side. Beatification also brings with it a feast day, July 30, dedicated to Blessed Solanus, to be celebrated on the church's liturgical calendar in Michigan and in Capuchin order-run churches elsewhere. It means statues and paintings of Casey can be placed inside Catholic churches, because now he can be a subject of public veneration.
With beatification, the churches in the six-county Archdiocese of Detroit and in Capuchin-run churches and monasteries worldwide will be allowed to invoke Blessed Solanus’ name in official church prayers and rituals. Before Saturday, such devotion to Casey was expressed through individual or private prayer.
“It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity. We are faithful Catholics. We love our church,” said Loran Moten, a parishioner at Detroit Gesu Catholic Church who was at the beatification.
Organizers said the beatification could be the largest Catholic mass celebrated in the city of Detroit. When St. John Paul II, as Catholic pope, visited metroDetroit in 1987, he drew about 90,000 people to the Pontiac Silverdome and a mass in downtown Detroit drew about 30,000 people.
Saturday was a day of small gestures and grand ones.
Before the mass in the stadium’s concourse, concessions and confessions were offered. Priests were stationed in quiet corridors for Catholics who wanted to partake in the Sacrament of Penance/Reconciliation before the beatification Mass.
Cheryl Haines, 71, of Warren has always felt a connection to Casey. She sat in a wheelchair outside Ford Field before the mass, her longtime friend Sandy Smith, 75, of St. Clair Shores, standing behind her.
Haines said she hopes Casey will intercede on her behalf for healing. “I have health needs. If it helps, it would be wonderful, but I’m not expecting it,” she said.
Religious ceremony
“Confessions are upstairs!” a beaming Rev. Stephen Pullis called out to the people streaming inside the arena. He works for the Archdiocese of Detroit.
Pullis said: “It’s great here at Ford Field. We got more than 60,000 people excited for the beatification of Father Solanus Casey. We got all these people who are ready to pray for the graces that he is going to bestow, that Jesus will bestow through him, on the city of Detroit. We are pumped!”
At the top of an escalator, long lines formed in front of an area of a concourse sectioned off with black curtains. Volunteers passed out cards with the Act of Contrition. Inside, under strings of white lights, dozens of priests sat hearing people’s confessions.
Wearing the brown garment of of the Capuchins, Brother Anthony Kote-Witah held a rosary in his right hand and stood in front of the altar as the seats in the stadium slowly filled with people. He is originally from Nigeria and lives at the Solanus Casey Center in Detroit. Next year, he will be ordained a deacon.
This is special day for both the Church and the city, he said.
“Years ago, when I came to Detroit, every day by 8 p.m., people are running from the city,” he said. “Now, there’s traffic, people can walk freely, sit down, eat food, celebrate.
"It’s a recovery of Detroit — what was lost is found.”
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