A Look at Life in the Home Missions of Southeastern Utah

Friday, Apr. 22, 2016

By Fr. William Wheaton

Pastor Saint Pius X/Saint Joseph (Monticello) parishes

 

Almost seven years ago I packed up my car, left the comforts of a large and affluent Salt Lake parish and began my new life as priest in the mission parishes of southeastern Utah.  

Since leaving the Wasatch Front for the most remote and isolated parts of the diocese, I have put almost 275,000 miles on my cars and driven in blinding sandstorms between Green River and Moab, and in fierce winter blizzards while traveling to Monticello for Christmas Eve Mass.  While keeping the faith alive for most Catholics in Utah has never been easy, nowhere are the challenges more profound than in southeastern Utah. Let me give you a snapshot of what life is like here.

Up until nine months ago, when a generous donor from California gave almost $2 million to build a new St. Joseph Church and parish hall in Monticello, a community in the Four Corners area of the state that is 300 miles from Salt Lake City, the children received their religious education instruction in a dilapidated trailer that had no heat in the winter. The insulation was coming out of the sides and roof and the doors would not close tightly, allowing snow to drift in during a winter storm.  But each week, dedicated parishioners and teachers kept the faith alive in their children in the worst conditions. The old St. Joseph Church, built 80 years ago, was too small to accommodate large numbers of people for Christmas, Easter or funeral Masses, so people would stand outside, sometimes in 20-degree weather, to participate in the Eucharist.

Thirty-five miles from Moab is the small farming community of La Sal. For almost 60 years there has been a Catholic presence in this predominantly LDS community. The little mission church of Sacred Heart has no running water or bathrooms. On two sides are pasture land and on the third side is a stock yard. Mass is celebrated on Sunday afternoons monthly. Often in the summer the priest has to shout over the sound of the cows mooing just outside the building. The flies are so bad that the bread and wine must remain covered through the entire Mass. And yet this small mission is a symbol of the faith and perseverance of the Catholic families who homesteaded in the area.

Ministry at St. Pius X Parish in Moab presents its own unique challenges because the area continues to become more popular as a tourist and adventure destination. While there is a small permanent Catholic population in the area, many of the ministry challenges come from serving the needs of the large number of visitors. As a priest I have been taken to remote areas of Canyonlands National Park by Search and Rescue to anoint a young climber who later died from a fall. I have been called to minister to families in motels where a loved one died of a heart attack.  On more than one occasion I spent several hours hiking with people who unexpectedly came to the rectory in crisis and needed someone to listen to their pain or depression. Ministry in Moab can be summarized by one word: hospitality.

People frequently ask what it is like to be a priest in the remote missions of the diocese. Because all of the parishes operate with very limited resources, most of the day-to-day work is done by the pastor. Each week I spend several hours cleaning the church and parish hall. I launder the altar linens, decorate the church and shovel the snow. There is no bookkeeper, secretary or bulletin editor, so the pastor spends much of his time as office manager. He is the DRE and teaches the Confirmation and First Communion classes.  And he drives.  Until eight months ago, the ministry assignment was from Green River in the north to Blanding in the south, and it was not unusual to put on more than 400 miles in a week.

Despite the isolation, with the closest priest in the diocese being in Price, two hours north of Moab, it is a rich and fulfilling ministry. There is a balance between prayer, manual labor, study and recreation seldom found in urban parishes. People frequently will ask whether I get tired of driving hundreds of miles each week. I always tell them that nothing inspires me and lifts my mind to God more than driving through the most beautiful part of God’s creation. While it may not be the best ministry for most priests, I consider service in the missions of our diocese as the most rewarding priestly ministry there is.