Wisconsin man discovers sacred staff in scrapyard, rekindling faith
In a twist of providence, a piece of holy hardware buried in brass scrap pulled one man back to the Church he’d left behind decades ago.
Jeff Helgeson of New Richmond, Wisconsin, stumbled upon a bishop’s golden crosier in a St. Paul scrapyard—a discovery that unexpectedly ignited his return to the Catholic faith after 40 years away, as OSV News reports.
The 62-year-old was making a routine metal delivery from his job at a Wisconsin electric motor firm when he noticed something that didn’t belong among the junk: a gleaming staff jutting out from the pile.
‘This Doesn’t Belong Here,’ He Thought
Helgeson, who’d once served as a Mass altar boy in Fargo, North Dakota, instantly recognized the staff as similar to one carried by his childhood bishop. His instinct told him it had no business being trashed.
“There’s quite a menagerie of scrap metal,” Helgeson said, recalling the moment. “As soon as I saw it, I said, ‘This doesn’t belong here.’”
He offered to buy the crosier, but after a short wait, the scrapyard manager simply gave it to him, telling him, “Do the right thing.” That’s not exactly how most businesses handle gold-plated goods, but it speaks to the unspoken reverence even secular folks feel for sacred objects.
Trying to Return What Wasn’t Lost
Helgeson contacted multiple dioceses, including one in Illinois, but no one seemed to know where the crosier had come from. It hadn’t been reported stolen—but it clearly wasn’t ordinary refuse.
Eventually, the Archdiocese of St. Paul and Minneapolis took an interest. Paul Iovino from the archdiocese passed along the story until it landed on the desk of Archbishop Bernard Hebda, who personally agreed to meet Helgeson.
On May 30, 2025, the two met at the Archdiocesan Catholic Center, where Helgeson turned over the crosier. Though scheduled for a brief visit, Helgeson said the archbishop “made it feel like I could be there all day.”
Crosier Becomes Symbol During Church Events
Archbishop Hebda used the newly found staff just days later during the Mass closing the Archdiocesan Synod Assembly. In his homily, he called the crosier “a sign of hope” pulled from what was essentially modern-day rubble.
“We don’t know whose crosier it was,” Hebda told the congregation. “But how magnificent that in the midst of that scrapyard … there was that sign of hope.”
Months later, on Dec. 28, 2025, Hebda again showcased the staff during a Jubilee Year of Hope Mass, calling it “an icon for all of us” and a reminder of the Church’s enduring treasures, even when lost or forgotten.
Man’s Journey of Healing and Renewal
For Helgeson, the encounter meant more than just a strange day at work. He began reading the Bible aloud and slowly returned to weekly Mass. “Sometimes you don’t know how hungry you are until you’ve had a little something to eat,” he said.
His absence from the Church for four decades wasn’t casual—he left after a clergy abuse scandal involving a close friend who later took his own life. “Anger kept me away, and eventually my pride and shame kept me away,” Helgeson admitted.
Yet the experience softened his heart. Helgeson found new inspiration in the writings of both Pope Francis, who passed in April 2025, and his successor, Pope Leo XIV. Slowly but deliberately, he returned to the fold.
Lost Staff Becomes Found Faith
“If I’m the lost sheep, it literally took a shepherd’s staff put right in my path,” Helgeson said. Sometimes, it doesn’t take a sermon—it takes a misplaced symbol of tradition and authority to remind us what we left behind.




