This Brother Changes Lives with Music

This is about one of the Soto brothers of Stanton who didn’t become a bishop. It’s about one of the boys who considered becoming a priest but changed his mind during seminary. It’s about a brother who then watched last week as big brother etched his name in local history when he became Orange County’s auxiliary bishop.

Actually, Ricardo Soto did a bit more than watch Jaime Soto’s ordination.

A musician by trade and passion, Ric helped plan the music for it. He jokes that he might have made different selections but deferred to the new bishop’s judgment and came to believe that “it was divinely inspired.”

Jaime Soto was a local hero long before becoming Orange County’s first bishop of Latino heritage. The eldest of six Soto brothers (they have one sister), Jaime is the one who’s championed tough causes and received the adulation of tens of thousands of Orange County Latinos.

All of which is fine with Ric, who has carved out a smaller but equally satisfying niche as a conductor, a church music director and a college lecturer.

“I think in our own way, we do the same thing,” Ric says of himself and his brother. “What I love about teaching is that I can affect society. I can teach my students to have a broader vision of the world through my classes. . . . When I talk about the music of Mexico (the name of his Cal State Fullerton class), I’m talking about how our music is a reflection of who we are.”

Jaime is 44, Ric 43, and they share a Dec. 31 birthday. All but one of the Soto children still live in virtually the same ZIP Code as parents Oscar and Gloria, who still share the same Stanton house the children were raised in, the house where Ric was married at 31.

And it’s the house where he used to play with his big brother, plan mock church services in the yard with him and first come to realize that Jaime seemed to gravitate to leadership roles.

Couldn’t Serve His People Elsewhere

Inspired by all that, Ric says he’s tried to emulate him.

It’s one of the reasons he turned down a job at an Ohio university. “I couldn’t take the job because I looked around and thought, ‘I wouldn’t be able to serve my people.’ I was the only Mexican there. But in Fullerton, I can change the future of so many kids.”

Asked how, his eyes seem to dance as he says, “Encouraging them. I can kick them in the butt in the way other profs can’t. I pulled a student aside last week who wrote a beautiful paper. There was passion in it. I said, ‘You cannot be narrow-minded in your view of what you’re going to do with your future. We need you because you have passion, you are educated and you write well. Find something in your future that will help others behind you.’ ”

You can’t talk to a bishop’s brother without asking him to dredge up at least one spicy childhood story. Ric swears he can’t come up with anything.

The only jealousy to which he confesses involves Jaime’s singing voice. “If I can sing, it’s because I’ve taken lessons and built my voice, brick by brick,” says Ric, the music director at St. Elizabeth Ann Seton in Irvine. “Jaime never trained but has a beautiful voice. I hate him.”

Though not reflexively following his older brother’s footsteps, Ric entered seminary but eventually decided--much to his mother’s relief, he says--that it wasn’t for him. He wanted a family and he wanted to play and conduct music in ways that a priest’s life wouldn’t have allowed.

“My mother knew I was a musician, not a cleric,” he says.

I ask if the news of Jaime’s appointment was overwhelming.

“The first thought that came to my mind,” Ric says, “was that I was so proud, not because he was my brother, but because he was Hispanic. It was like, ‘Hello, we’re out here, thank you very much for recognizing us.’ ”

A family affair all the way, Ric says his best memory of the ordination involves his father. “I’ve never seen my father break down, get so emotional,” he says. “Here’s this stoic Hispanic male at the age of 77, and [Cardinal] Roger Mahony comes down to bless him, and he just lost it.”

Any wonder? “How many parents,” Ric says with a full laugh, “have their son ordained a bishop?”

So, that’s a big deal, huh?

Ric laughs again and his dark eyes twinkle. “Yeah,” he says. “It is a big deal.”

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Dana Parsons’ column appears Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. Readers may reach Parsons by calling (714) 966-7821 or by e-mail to dana.parsons@latimes.com