Greetings from Missoula, Montana!
Many of you have asked: “How are things going out there?”
The answer that arrives at the heart of things is that, during most of the first two weeks I have been here, I have been asking myself: “Where am I?” Not because I am lost and in need of direction, but because those words are the best I can do to express the utter newness of life and the mild “shock” I am experiencing of being “here” in Montana – not in some future plan or prayer, but “right now.” It is a little surreal.
Part of it has to do with geography. I take my trash to the alley and I see mountains.
I drive to Wal-mart and I see mountains.
I celebrated the Fourth of July by climbing a part of a mountain and watching fireworks – behind which are mountains.
Which leads to another new thing: the long daylight. That picture with the fireworks was taken after 11pm. Even though the days have been only about 1.5 hours longer than Saint Louis summer days, there is a noticeable difference in how early and how late the sunlight lingers.
There is also a noticeable difference in the heat. We had several days in the 90s and a day when we topped 100. But Missoula has so little humidity. Couple that with just a smidge of elevation (3,000 feet), and the evenings cool down delightfully by 7 or 8pm. By the time the early morning hits, it is downright chilly – which makes this place the PERFECT place for keeping the house windows open overnight. Which I absolutely LOVE.
Speaking of where I live: here is the rectory.
And the cute patio where I do a lot of my typing in the evening and drinking coffee in the morning.
We also (and I say “we” because I live with another amazing and young priest) – we also have an amazing little chapel that is perfectly cozy.
What is “new” about this rectory is that it is not like most in Saint Louis, where the rectory sits right next to the parish church. No, I am a solid four block walk to my parish in town (Christ the King).
It is a lovely parish that doubles as the newman center for the University of Missoula. The people here have been absolutely delightful and so welcoming. I am still unpacking – not because I have a lot of stuff (when I left Saint Louis, everything I owned fit in my Subaru) – No, I am still unpacking because I have had so many breakfasts and dinners during my first two weeks here. It’s been amazing and refreshing
.
The pastor and I serve another parish, about 20 minutes away in a place called Frenchtown. When I arrived, the parishioners here were able to have their first Mass in over a year. They are pretty thrilled to be open again. And I am pretty thrilled to be there. As an aside, this is my third assignment of three that were founded by the French.
Back to the neighborhood … I live, quite literally, just a stone’s throw from campus (I am closer to the academic buildings than most dorms) and, funny enough, my rectory is square in the middle of fraternity and sorority row. (Party at the priests’ house!) … The neighborhood is amazing though. It’s like Kirkwood and Sainte Gen got married and had a child: old, very well kept houses in a very walkable neighborhood lined with trees. Every evening, there are a multitude of people who are walking their dogs or just walking with their spouse (not walking their spouse – that would be weird) or there are kids riding their bikes down the center of the quiet road. I feel like I have gone back to the 1950s or something.
Also, I should note that, whereas Saint Louis has a superabundance of stop signs in the city streets, Missoula has the exact opposite. Most intersections in my four-or-so block neighborhood have either a small roundabout or no stop sign at all. “So, what do you do about cars that approach the intersection at the same time?” I pondered aloud to a parishioner. “Well,” he responded, “you just slow down as you reach the intersection and common sense will prevail.”
“Oh. … Like … a rolling stop?”
“Yeah, that’s one way of describing it.”
*pondering all of the rolling stops I made in St. Louis intersections marked by stop signs*
Yeah, I think I was made for this place.
I should also note that the walkers and bikers are out – at least right now – until 9pm or later. My pastor, who is an avid mountain biker, has no qualms about starting a ride at 8:30pm (especially when it will be light until 10pm). “I can study when it is dark,” he says. Good point, that.
It does reveal, however, and as another priest who lives here told me, an overall and certain “mania” that many Montana people have about the outdoors that stems from knowing that there are a solid four months upcoming that will be spent mostly indoors. When you know a lot of frost and chill are just around the corner, you gotta outdoor while the outdooring is good.
This means, of course, that “Old Man Gerber” and his 10pm bedtime and 6am wake-up are a little at odds with the general lifestyle here. A lot of people – a LOT – go to bed late and don’t start the morning until late. We don’t have a daily morning Mass until… 12:15pm. Everything has shifted. Including the time zone – it is odd to remember that I can’t really be calling people back home at 8pm my time.
Other things….
In addition to my work as associate pastor at two parishes, I am also spearheading the campus ministry here at the University of Montana. This is very much a college town and the vast majority of the students are not here. I have been told that summertime is pretty slow around here in comparison to the autumn. I can’t wait.
Not to say that things are slow. I’ve already crossed the Continental Divide a couple of times (to visit the Chancery and receive the welcome of the Bishop in Helena). And I’ve had the joy of spending a few days on the Bitterroot River, camping and canoeing with some parishioners.
I’ve even had a day where I was able to go hiking in Glacier National Park (which was really wild to do in a day – since, from Saint Louis, it takes two full days of driving just to get there).
But it isn’t just mountains and nature. There is a youth camp up the road from here and, during their week-long stay, the youth go to confession. So me and 10 other priests in the diocese heard confessions for the kids during an afternoon. Two things I should note about this:
- Because ten of us priests heard confessions, this meant that I hung out with a third of the entire number of priests in the dicoese that afternoon. (They are great). And,
- In order to go from the parking lot to the main lodge of the camp, I had to be boated across a lake.
I’ve never had to take a boat in order to go and hear confessions. But, here we are.
I’ve also never had to mow my own lawn as a priest (for 15 years). Every parish that I have ever been at had someone to do it. *shrug* …. Not here. We mow our own lawn. I'm actually totally okay with this. I mean, look at that diagonal pattern….! Yeah. This Guy.
Oh, and I did get to see Michelle Duppong’s grave on my way from Saint Louis to Missoula. It was a long (but not all that long) detour to North Dakota. But she was very much in my life during my last months in Saint Louis and in the first weeks here in Missoula. (If you don’t know here, you need to google her). I was very much moved while praying at her grave … much like I was moved while praying at Father Anthony Ravalli’s grave in the Bitterroot valley out here two years ago (which is a story for later) …
I was very glad that I visited. And when I told one of my FOCUS missionaries that I had done so and that I was interested in taking a group on a little pilgrimage there, the response was a full YES! So, I’ll be going back there – likely in the Spring.
And, next Summer, the pastor has asked me to lead a group on The Camino in Spain.
For now, however, ministry at the parish. And then a group to Glacier during the first week of August. And then the college students return in mid August and, as they say, “We’re off!”
Can’t wait to catch my first “Griz” college football game, too.
I’m sure there is a lot of other things, but that’s enough for now, I think. I’ll keep writing more, later, I’m sure.
…. where am I ?????
