At a small parish hall at Dolores Mission in Boyle Heights, church members gathered for Mass to reflect on the legacy of Pope Francis, who died on Monday after a 12-year papacy marked by his commitment to migrants, the marginalized and the poor.
One by one, parishioners remembered Francis as a common man— someone who enjoyed playing soccer, rode public transportation in his native Argentina, and acted as a unifier who “wanted peace all over the world.”
Patricia Veliz Macal, of East L.A., embraced the pope’s efforts to open doors for “the youth, people of different sexual orientations, women, and those of us who divorced and remarried.”
To Martha Sifuentes, who has been a decades-long member of Dolores Mission, “It was an honor to have a Latino pope.”
As he began the service, Father Brendan Busse acknowledged that the Mass in honor of Francis—history’s first Latin American and Jesuit pontiff—was not taking place in the church sanctuary but in a multipurpose room where unhoused men sleep at night and where immigration attorneys hold consultations. In the sanctuary, family and friends gathered for a viewing and rosary service for Yolanda Gallo, a community leader known as a founding mother of the parish’s nonprofit, Proyecto Pastoral.
Pope Francis, Busse said, “would be very happy to know that we are here celebrating his Mass in the hall,” while Gallo, who died in early April, “held the position there in the church.”
To Busse, the spirit of Francis was at play.
“Because the pope was someone who knew that the leadership of the people, the leadership of women, the leadership of the laity in the church is so important, so essential,” said Busse, a Jesuit priest.
For congregants and leaders of Dolores Mission, a Jesuit Catholic church, their parish has long embodied the humble teachings of Francis. Established in 1925 to serve the “poor Spanish-speaking immigrants of the community,” according to its website, the church continues to serve the most vulnerable.
It’s the birthplace of Homeboy Industries, now known as the world’s largest gang intervention and rehabilitation program.
Through Proyecto Pastoral’s Guadalupe Homeless Project, the parish shelters unhoused men and women. And, Dolores Mission School, housed on church grounds, prioritizes local youth from the neighborhood, never turning away families due to financial hardship.
“Dolores Mission has done what the pope did, paying attention to people in need – people who don’t have a place to live and people of lower means,” said Sifuentes, who works with Proyecto Pastoral.
Sifuentes, who has roots in Sonora, Mexico, highlighted the parish’s growing role since the election of President Donald Trump, who vowed to deport “millions and millions” of immigrants.
She noted the “Know Your Rights” workshops that Dolores Mission has hosted in partnership with local legal organizations and elected leaders like Sen. Maria Elena Durazo. And how the church passed out red cards detailing the legal rights of immigrants. When students staged walkouts to protest Trump’s immigration policies earlier this year, Sifuentes said Proyecto Pastoral supported them with snacks and water.
“I would like [the church] to continue [Francis’] legacy,” Sifuentes said. “I hope they don’t choose a pope who is too conservative or racist. Hopefully, God wants us to have someone … who will finish and continue doing all that [Francis] did.”
To Veliz Macal, Francis’ commitment to build bridges across faiths was admirable. She recalled watching Francis’ Easter address on Sunday, where he continued to call for an immediate ceasefire in Gaza.
“He’s an example of leadership,” Veliz Macal said.
Originally from Guatemala, Veliz Macal said she strayed from the church for some time, but found community at Dolores Mission.
“I like the progressive voice,” she said. “They [Dolores Mission] believe in social justice, which is so important right now because we can’t deny that there are injustices. The church is part of that, of the people.”
Alejandra Benavides, another parishioner, echoed that feeling. She had left the church years ago after becoming disillusioned. But that changed when Fr. Scott Santarosa, who previously served as a pastor at Dolores Mission, answered a call that others ignored: he blessed the mother of a close friend who was dying.
Soon after, Benavides found herself at Sunday service at Dolores Mission—and she’s returned every Sunday since.
Like Francis, Dolores Mission is “about being close to the people,” she said. “That’s what he always preached.”
