Search for Bishop Koester’s distinctive crosier became a lifelong friend’s personal quest

Jefferson City native Bishop Charles Roman Koester often used his shepherd’s crook as a teaching tool when preaching to young people at confirmation.

He received the crosier, a ceremonial staff carried by a bishop, 45 years ago as a gift during his first pastoral visit to the St. Louis archdiocese’s missions in Bolivia.

Hand-carved by an indigenous Aymaran fisherman, the top of the crosier depicts the artist and his wife, their llama, a fish in a net, and a boat — all surrounding a Greek Chi-Rho, a symbol of Christ.

“Christ was the center of that fisherman’s life, and ‘Charlie’ Koester wanted everyone to be like that fisherman,” stated Edward Bode, a lifelong friend and distant cousin of Bishop Koester.

The only Jefferson City native to become a bishop died 20 years ago this week, on Christmas Eve of 1997.

Mr. Bode — a Cathedral of St. Joseph parishioner, longtime Jefferson City resident and former editor of The Catholic Missourian — spent much of this past year bringing together information about the late bishop’s life and determining the elusive whereabouts of his signature staff.

“My primary purpose was to put together a historical document about Bishop Koester in order for people not to forget who he was,” he said.

Mr. Bode emphasized that Bishop Koester never forgot who he was.

“He said at the time he was consecrated a bishop that all he ever wanted to be was a parish priest,” said Mr. Bode.

Accordingly, Bishop Koester remained tied to parish work even through his 27 years as an auxiliary bishop — a bishop who assists another bishop or archbishop without being assigned to a diocese of his own.

“He was a bishop of the people and for the people,” said Mr. Bode. “He was an amazing personality, and his story is worth remembering.”

Me and Yogi

Mr. Bode was gathering information about Bishop Koester to present at a class reunion of the Pontifical North American College (NAC) in Rome — of which both men are graduates — in 2015 when he heard about the death of baseball legend Lorenzo “Yogi” Berra.

Mr. Berra, a St. Louis native, and Bishop Koester were close friends.

Ordained in 1941, the young Fr. Koester was sent to serve at St. Ambrose parish in an Italian neighborhood known as The Hill in St. Louis. Many of the people there still spoke Italian as their first and primary language.

Among them were Yogi’s parents, Pietro and Paolina Berra, who were opposed to their son accepting a contract to play professional baseball.

Bishop Koester had become fluent in Italian as a seminarian in Rome.

Visiting them at home and speaking in their language, he convinced Mr. and Mrs. Berra to let their son try making money doing something he enjoyed and was good at.

Yogi went on to become a Hall of Fame catcher, coach, manager, broadcaster and beloved American philosopher.

Jefferson City and most of central and southeastern Missouri were part of the St. Louis archdiocese until the state’s diocesan boundaries were changed and the Diocese of Jefferson City was created in 1956.

Bishop Koester was serving in St. Louis at that time and therefore remained a priest of the archdiocese, which was reduced in size to the city and 10 surrounding counties.

Even so, he continued to visit his family in the Capitol City. He would also minister to St. Louis parishioners’ relatives who were serving time in the state prison.

Since his highest aspiration was to serve God as a parish priest, he was stunned in 1971 to be appointed auxiliary bishop of St. Louis under Cardinal John J. Carberry.

He ministered with distinction, administering confirmation throughout the archdiocese and standing in for the archbishop whenever called upon to do so.

He continued returning to Jefferson City to offer Mass at the Carmelite Monastery and to serve as an intermediary between prison residents and their families in St. Louis.

Children especially loved hearing him preach about keeping Christ at the center of everything, as illustrated by the intriguing carvings on his crosier.

Failing health brought suffering, which he bore patiently until his death on Christmas Eve.

“Bishop Koester was unfailing in his love for the Church, his pastoral zeal, his true devotion to our Blessed Mother, his warm sense of humor, and his love for all people, particularly the sick, the dying and the bereaved,” Cardinal Justin F. Rigali, who was archbishop of St. Louis at that time, stated at the Funeral Mass.

“Bishop Koester never asked for any higher dignity than to make Jesus Christ present in the midst of His people,” the archbishop added. “It was enough for him, it was everything for him to represent the Good Shepherd who lays down His life for the flock and Who could say: ‘I know Mine and Mine know Me.’”

Staff of the fisherman

In the course of his research, Mr. Bode became increasingly determined to find Bishop Koester’s crosier.

He hoped that it could be displayed either in the Alphonse J. Schwartze Memorial Catholic Center in Jefferson City or in St. Peter Church, where Bishop Koester had been baptized and confirmed, received his First Holy Communion and offered his First Solemn Mass.

At very least, he hoped to find pictures of the crosier and inquire about having a replica of it created.

Over the course of several months, he contacted Bishop Koester’s family, made calls to various archdiocesan offices in St. Louis, asked the archdiocesan archivist to send out a request for information, and placed a notice in The Catholic Missourian.

He vigorously pursued several leads, but none of them wound up panning out.

He was about to give up on the search when he happened to speak to the parish secretary at St. John the Apostle and Evangelist parish near St. Louis Union Station.

That was the last parish Bishop Koester served before moving to a retirement home for priests.

Bishop Koester had bequeathed the crosier to the parish, and it had been on display in the church vestibule ever since then.

“There is was, right under everyone’s nose, and almost no one else knew where it was,” said Mr. Bode.

He then made a statement reminiscent of the ballplayer who owed the start of his career to Bishop Koester’s intervention: “Looking back on all of these things, you just never know how the world turns.”

A link to Mr. Bode’s illustrated biography of Bishop Koester, including photos of his 1938 bicycle trip through the back roads of France, can be found on the Jefferson City diocese’s website, www.diojeffcity.org.