Photo courtesy of U.S. Army Corps of Engineers Majestic and wild -- Lake Pend d'Orielle, Idaho. |
Weather is extreme in this Northwest Territory, presenting “severe
highs and lows,” according to Montanta's Disaster and Emergency Survivor
Guide. “Add to that the high risk
for flooding, wildland fires, earthquakes and a variety of other hazards, and
you could have a survivor challenge.”
Now rewind to the 1840s, when sheltering from
heavy snows and winds slicing through mountain passes or across unprotected
plains meant chinking bark between fir logs in your cabin and stirring up the
fire. Jesuit missionaries Fr. Peter-Jean De Smet, Fr. Adrien Hoecken and
Brother Peter McGean suffered through such winters in a cabin near Idaho's Lake Pend d'Orielle.
Early photo of Kalispell Indians on Lake Pend d'Orielle. |
Working with the people was rewarding because
they were eager to embrace the Catholic Faith. But that location! Even for
the wild Northwest, the spot was desolate. Good soil for a garden was scant. Game? Scarce.
So in 1854, the missionaries were happy to take the friendly advice of Chief
Alexander of the Kalispell tribe, in relocating to Idaho's sister state of Montana, to a spot in the Lower Flathead
River area. That town today is called St. Ignatius, home to St. Ignatius
Mission.
Fr. Pierre-Jean De Smet |
The
Kalispell wanted priests among them. They were so eager to have Black Robes
come teach about Christ, they sent four delegations to the Jesuits pleading for
missionaries. So, a beautiful, mutual friendship grew between the missionaries
and the people.
There’s
a saying: “All things grow with love.” This proved to be the case through those
early decades, while Fr. De Smet’s little mission corps labored with the
Indians to found a church, and to create Montana’s first saw and flour mills,
the first hospital and the first residential schools.
When
the native peoples were not treated well, the missionaries took it deeply to
heart. Fr. Hoecken grieved about the U.S. government breaking
treaties. About a meeting he witnessed between a government envoy and the Indians,
he later said, “neither side understood 1/10 of what was said.”
Real trouble came because the Native peoples looked
to the treaty to reinforce existing friendship, building on those ties with the
missionaries. But the officials came to assert claims on Indian land.
It’s proof of God’s grace that the Holy Spirit
speaks a universal language. In spite of tensions between white man and Indian,
the Faith flowered in the bitterroot Valley. Sisters of Providence came to open
a school, and later shifted to Hospital work. Ursuline nuns came to teach and
do outreach to the poor. Successes were tempered by trials such as when devastating
fires destroyed school structures around the turn of the century.
But nothing stopped the missionaries’ walk
with the people, through times of crisis and celebration. That process of
teaching and learning the Faith continued. The people were open to receive, but
operating from a vastly different worldview. On the Society of Jesus website, a
little story tells about the 1882 visit of Archbishop Charles J. Seghers to
confirm 40 people.
“While examining some Indians
for confirmation with the help of Father Cataldo, His Grace noticed . . . an
elderly Kalispell, whom he felt sure he had confirmed on a previous
occasion. ‘But you, my son, have received the Holy Ghost already,’ said
the Archbishop to the Indian. ‘Yes, Great Black Robe,’ answered the
Indian; "but I lost Him; He got drowned crossing the river." The
poor fellow was far from jesting or being irreverent: he only expressed himself
as best he knew.”
Tribal people who could neither read nor
write, learned salvation history from murals in St. Ignatius Church. Today, travel
guides call these 58 murals worthy of European cathedrals. An untrained artist painted
them. Brother Joseph Carignano, mission cook and handyman, spent precious spare
moments between duties dabbing a brush to the walls. If you can’t visit this
church in person, you have to visit virtually online. Within the heart of this
remote little town of St. Ignatius, is this hidden store of masterpieces, all
singing out praises to God through vibrant colors and scenes.
I’ve visited Montana several times over the
years, on mission trips and vacations. Several images from my first trip to St.
Ignatius Mission in St. Ignatius; Sacred Heart Church in Arlee, and St. John
Berchman Church in Jocko,
remain imprinted in my mind. In St. Ignatius, I stepped
quietly into church one evening, and saw a circle of men praying up toward the
altar. Cursillo retreats changed many lives on reservations across the nation, and
these men were experiencing conversion through Cursillo. I remember their quiet intensity in the
dimness as they sought God, and the simple welcome in their smiles as they
nodded to me.
I also visited a nearby thrift shop run
by a missionary sister and was so happy to find a Native American patterned
shirt that I cherished for years. The shop provided a great opportunity for
people on a tight budget to dress themselves and their children, and buy needed
household goods.
Also, I recall going with a missionary to
visit a sick Kalispell elder, and sensing the quiet peace of their prayers as
the nun pulled a chair up to the sick bed.
And one of my last days at St. Ignatius, I
attended an outdoor celebration where children danced native dances. A wiry,
elderly priest sat grinning beneath a rather comical, wide brimmed white hat,
perfectly happy to be with his people.
Falling in love with the
missions and those who live and serve there, has made my life an adventure.
Looking at problems in mission territory can be overwhelming: isolation,
poverty, an eroding of family values, high unemployment, accompanied by high
substance and physical abuse. But missionaries have a way of going into these
areas, and loving people right toward God and their best selves. Like anything,
sometimes the best outcomes don’t happen. But I’ve seen also seen faithful in
mission territories be heroic in facing tough times, surviving, and giving
their children better lives.
Learning about our Catholic
heritage is a delight. Fr. Pierre de Smet? He’s a hero for the faith. So is
Chief Alexander, who proved such a friend in those early years; and that humble
cook who proved that, if Providence wills it, godly inspiration can be enough
training to create a masterpiece. Also heroes, were those rather rugged looking
Cursillistas in church, in plaid shirts and blue jeans, who bowed their heads
and prayed for their loved ones and community.
This blog is adapted from my Missionary Moments podcast for Star Quest Production Network-affiliated Catholic Vitamins "D -- for Delight."
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