Fr. Joseph Soria: ‘one of the holiest priests I have ever met in my life’

Updated Oct. 12: The wake for Father Joseph Soria will be held Thursday, Oct. 13, at Saint John the Apostle Parish in Vancouver from 4 p.m. to 6 p.m. and from 8 p.m. to midnight. His funeral Mass will be Friday, Oct. 14, at Holy Rosary Cathedral in Vancouver at 10 a.m.

When I learned Father Joseph Soria had died it left me with a sense of sadness, not for Father Soria but for myself. Knowing what I do of the man, I have no doubt he is now in God’s heavenly embrace. I had only met him a couple of times, and I regretted never getting to really know this priest who all his friends and loved ones will tell you is now a saint in heaven.

Archbishop Miller was once in a conversation discussing saints when someone remarked that there are no canonized saints from Vancouver.

The archbishop replied, “That’s because Father Soria hasn’t died yet.”

Such are the impressions Father Soria made on the lives of those around him, and not only members of Opus Dei, which he served as spiritual director and general postulator and then as spiritual director and Vicar of Opus Dei for Canada. He had the same effect on ordinary people who encountered him. Here are some of their stories. — PS

A priest who spoke to the heart

At a particular time in my life I was deeply searching for more, though more “what” I didn’t quite know. 

I had heard about a monthly recollection in Vancouver but I was skeptical. One day, a dear friend said to me, “Barbara, I know a very holy priest and I think you would like him.” That phrase “a very holy priest” caught my attention.

I attended the next recollection and listened, fascinated, to this “very holy priest.” I was moved to my very core. Two things spoke to my heart, and to my heart alone (I knew it!): our own particular circumstances are the place where we will find the means to our sanctification, and second, anything else is mystical wishful thinking. Soon after I asked Father Joseph Soria, fondly known as Father Joe, to be my spiritual director. I have never looked back. 

Our lives are made up of tiny details and major events. I think now of a mixture of both. Father Joe knew each one of us so well. I never had to explain myself; he knew what I was fumbling to say, and I knew he understood me. 

He spoke to the place in my heart that only I knew. He held me to account in the gentlest way, as only a father who loves you could dare to do.

After my many repeated lapses, he would say, “Barb, I think we have talked about this before.” The way he used my nickname, the way he spoke, would make me smile – and I would try a lot harder. 

He was so refined, had such great dignity, yet he was so reachable. He fit right into everyone’s family life. He loved having dinner with friends; he told jokes for the grandchildren (and the adults); he became a beloved part of many boisterous families. 

One winter evening he came to Crestwell Centre (the Opus Dei centre for women in Vancouver) wearing a black wool coat and a white scarf. All the ladies were making a fuss over him: “Father Joe, you look so handsome, I love your coat and scarf.” He said, “This is 25 years old, I had it for Montreal winters.”

Finally he broke free and went downstairs to give a meditation. I never saw him wear that coat again! Whenever we would compliment him or thank him excessively, he would tell us firmly, “If you don’t stop, I will leave right now,” and we knew he meant it.

Another evening at Crestwell we were gathered upstairs singing Christmas carols. On his way out he stopped to greet a couple who were doing a little dance. Father joined in and danced with them. It was so out of character yet so authentic.

One year my daughter came to a retreat with her toddler son. He would stand in front of a mirrored door talking to himself. Father Joe came up behind him and talked to him in the mirror. Years later when Father was sick, my grandson as a teenager had the privilege of taking Father’s meal to him in his room.

During the last illness of my husband I received a phone call from Father Joe asking if I wanted him to come and visit. I was very surprised! I knew how incredibly busy he was and how many people he looked after, but of course I said yes and he came right away. 

After that first visit he came often, watching over us, each time giving me helpful advice on caring for my husband and particularly in administering his medications.

One night when it seemed the end was in sight I called Father, asking him to come. Upon entering the room, he knelt down and said “absolvo,”making the Sign of the Cross over John. He kept vigil with me and the family till 1:30 a.m. Through his kind and loving friendship in those difficult times a close relative who was helping me with John’s care found her lost faith and is grateful to this day. 

Recently my daughter and I had the good fortune to visit Father. Though he couldn’t speak, he gave us the most beautiful smile. For all the people he touched in special and particular ways, there are thousands of stories waiting to be told. Mine are miniscule, but I am honoured to be able to give others a glimpse into the life of a “very holy priest.”

Father Joe, thank you and may you rest in peace. 

Barbara Stuart lives in North Vancouver

I was surprised to meet Father Joe for the first time at a bioethics conference because it was one year after a Catholic contact at work suggested I reach out to him for spiritual direction. I never did. I admitted to Father Joe that I had a tendency to procrastinate. Right on the spot and without realizing it at first, I received my first taste of direction when he told me he had spent many years of his life with a man who taught “Hodie et nunc (today and now).” I had no idea that man was St Josemaria. 

I remember being impressed by this older priest who pulled out his Blackberry to book a lunch meeting with me at a time when very few people had a smartphone. I began to meet Father Joe regularly for lunch and he became a wise grandfather figure and dear friend to me. I had no idea what Opus Dei was or that he was an Opus Dei priest until many months later. In those regular meetings with him, he was a true instrument of God and a true friend as he helped me live my life in a better way and led me back to the Catholic faith.

Father Joe stands out as the one true canonizable saint that I personally know in my life. He was a kind gentleman full of virtue and faith. He was also the best preacher that I know. 

Finally, he understood women more than any man I know, and his advice to men regarding how to treat women is priceless. My wife would never have married me without Father Joe’s huge influence in my life.

Simon Min
Vancouver

I started serving Father Joe as a caregiver in October 2016. My duties were giving him a bed bath, serving him breakfast, doing some spiritual reading to him, and serving him lunch.

Right after I started serving Father Joe a miracle happened. For decades, I had to depend on sleeping pills. My sleeping quality was very poor. Getting up early in the morning became almost impossible. After a week of serving Father Joe, I was able to drop the sleeping pills totally. I could sleep well at night and therefore became able to attend to him every morning.

Father Joe was a tender-hearted person. He never demanded anything or had any complaint. He didn’t show impatience when I had to turn him many times while washing him. In the earlier years he was able to hear my confession. He never refused when I asked him for blessings. He allowed me to listen to my YouTube audio material while serving him. He offered me his favourite chocolates. Though he was hardly verbal, he once told me that he was always happy. I admire his endurance. He could maintain his internal peace and happiness after almost a decade of the effects of stroke. He is a giant, if not a saint yet.

Eddie Ho
Vancouver

Father Soria was my regular confessor. I made my confession every week to him from 2008 to 2014, and he was a wise and good confessor. 

I remember much of the advice he gave me in confession, and his example now helps me in my own ministry of hearing confession.

At the end of 2008, Father Soria invited me to become a priest cooperator of Opus Dei.

I am very grateful to the priests of Opus Dei who have continued hearing my confession regularly since 2014 when Father Soria suffered a stroke and was unable to exercise his pastoral ministry.  

Father Anthony Ho
Pastor, St. John the Apostle, Vancouver

Before I became a member of Opus Dei in the late 1990s a troop of about 10 guys – from teenagers to Father Soria’s mid-to-late 60s – did a six-day hike on Vancouver Island’s Juan de Fuca trail. Father Soria was my tent-mate for the trip so I got to be with him at close quarters under a surprising amount of physical stress.

I remember that hike as six days of trudging up a hill, jockeying down its back side, crossing a creek, then repeating the process ad nauseum, all while carrying an interminably heavy backpack Atlas-like. I was in my late 20s then and found it exhausting. Likely the main reason for this was simply lack of sleep. We’d crawl into our tents at night, worn out from the day’s hike, and – at least for me – instead of fading off into a well-earned sleep get to listen to Father Soria peacefully snoozing in the sleeping bag beside me. I’m not an outdoorsman and lay pretty much awake most of the night waiting to shortly become bear food.

The fear finally came to fruition somewhere around the fourth night out. As usual after dinner we had to string our food up high in a tree to keep it away from the bears. I remember thinking that night that our tent was awfully close to the food and something about that didn’t seem quite right. Sure enough, in the black of night, the entire beach was awakened by what seemed like the world’s loudest ripping sound. It got closer and closer, louder and louder, culminating with a crash that literally made the ground shake.

I thought, “OK, I’m dead.”

As I lay there contemplating my soon-to-be death, I realize to my horror that my tentmate, dear Father Soria, was unzipping the door to the tent. It’s funny how in a moment like that a thin piece of nylon could provide the mental safety of a vault door. And my tentmate had just opened it. I cowered behind him preparing for when the bear tore in.

But opening the door wasn’t enough for Father. He pulled out a flashlight, shone it directly at the formerly strung-up food to let the bear know we were there. In the 20 seconds that time-warped into three hours, my heart stopped as I waited to hear growls and footfalls of a charging bear. 

All I heard was a calm, Spanish-accented “No ….” The flashlight beamed in another direction, then “No ….” And a third time, “No ….”

Then Father zipped up the tent, rolled over and promptly went to sleep.

(What had actually happened was a huge tree, about 70 feet tall and two feet in diameter, had snapped and crashed down on the beach about 20 feet away from us.)

Marc Vella is a parishioner at St. James, Abbotsford.

I was saddened when I learned that Father Joseph Soria had passed away and regret very much that I did not get to visit him.

Father Soria was one of the holiest priests I have ever met in my life. I don’t remember how I got connected with him, only that he was spiritual director of Opus Dei in Vancouver. I am not a member of this noble organization founded by St. Josemaria Escriva de Balaguer, but Divine Providence steered me toward its spiritual director.

Father Soria was the doctor who attended to St. Josemaria Escriva during the saint’s last hours on earth. I heard of Father Soria as an excellent confessor and so I made an effort to confess to him. In the confessional I found Father Soria quite different in admonishing me as the sinner. He made me think of how to solve my problem and how to better help whoever I offended, thereby helping myself to be a better person.

He made me discern my faults and instill sorrow for my sins because they offended God. I felt that Jesus was talking to me through Father Soria. 

There was one time when he sternly told me that I should not be consulting him if I did not follow him. Because of this frankness, the more respect and admiration I had for this holy priest. He was like a father talking to a daughter.

I used to visit him at the Opus Dei residence to confess to him. I do not remember him ever saying no to my visit for the sacrament of reconciliation. He took time to see me in spite of his busy schedule. He spoke to me in a calm, reassuring way. I cannot explain it but I saw that his face showed holiness and a good heart. I always felt a holy environment in his presence. He was a caring, holy priest who had taken every opportunity to bring sinners like me closer to God. Father Soria is one priest that any sinner would open up wholeheartedly to because he was simply simple, holy, and caring, aside from being highly intelligent and highly discerning of the needs of a penitent sinner. I am very blessed to have had the opportunity to have Father Soria as my confessor and for him to be a part of my spiritual life. In his old age, his caregiver told me that he still remembered me. I know in my heart that he is also a saint just like his patient, St. Josemaria Escriva. May Father Soria rest in union with Our Lord Jesus Christ, Our Blessed Mother Mary and St. Joseph. Father Soria, please pray for me so that I can faithfully serve God in my lifetime.

Teresita Nixon
Sacred Heart Parish, Delta

In 2007, I went for an excursion with Father Joe Soria and other gentlemen to Squamish, to the site where today stands Copper Ridge Conference Centre. It was virgin land at the time. There were ongoing plans to build a conference centre to be used for retreats, and for faith and character-building workshops. I was awe-struck by the beautiful natural vistas of sea, mountains, and sky that surround the land. So were my other companions. But later that day, Father Joe challenged us to also think about all the souls who will be making life-changing decisions while attending retreats and workshops there. To think of all the life and love that will spring forth from Copper Ridge Conference Centre. He challenged me to have apostolic perspective.

Peter Ochodo
Chilliwack

I met Father Joe 15 years ago when I went to my first Opus Dei retreat. I was a businesswoman with a long career who had gotten married at age 52 to a widower with five sons, four of whom ranged in age from 10 to 16 when we married. I thought marriage was going to be easy, but I quickly learned what a challenging vocation being both a wife and mother can be, especially when paired with a demanding business life. When I went to the retreat I was highly stressed but found comfort and direction from the words of Father Joe who, when giving me spiritual direction, spoke like a parent would – lovingly but firmly, presenting me with the truth but giving me advice on how to grow in my new roles. Thank God for the notes I took each time I received advice from Father Joe so that they can provide his wisdom for the rest of my life. Meeting Father Joe has led me and my husband, Brent, to be more apostolic on Vancouver Island, many times repeating his exact words to others ... in a way continuing what Father Joe started with his first trips to the Island. Thank you, Father Joe. I love you.

M. Elizabeth Boyd
Vancouver Island

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