The Shepherd’s Rock
Idaho was calling us.
We first reached out to the USFS in the Idaho panhandle during the spring of 2007. Several times in the history of Wilderness Outreach we have made an agreement with Forest Service units and NGOs to help get us into the backcountry, only to be jilted, when it dawns on them that we really are and all male Catholic men’s ministry. Chalk it up to political correctness and cancel culture.
This is how we found the good Forest Service men and women in Bonners Ferry, Idaho. We had an agreement with an NGO out of the state of Washington and when they realized we were an all-male group of Catholic men they got cold feet and backed out. So, I started calling around and discovered the Panhandle of Idaho.
You see, all we want, and need is a backcountry location requiring a lot of work, food, and some logistical help to get us there. Someplace we have the freedom to practice the 5 Disciplines and the art and science of Manhood building. Given these, we believe that we get way more done than the typical secular volunteer trail crew.
The USFS folks in Idaho were top notch. They shuttled us back and forth from Bonners Ferry to the Spokane airport and more importantly got us into the backcountry into the Cabinet Mountains where we helped build about a mile of new trail.
The hike in was a decent 6 miler with an altitude gain of about 1,000’. Our basecamp was perched on the side of a small mountain lake surrounded by a meadow and a lodgepole pine forest. When we got into camp each man found a place to call home for the next week and set up his tent.
Then it was time to find and build the Sanctuary, so the men started looking for the place that would be our Spiritual home for the next week.
Father and Tom looked around the lake and into the lodgepole pine forest, other men went in different directions. After an hour or so they started drifting back into camp. Father and Tom found a paltry spot that afforded little to no building material. Other men came up empty as well as we stood and talked, we heard Jeff yelling at us from a tall hill that he was walking down. “Up here, up here!” he exclaimed while motioning us toward him.
We all walked toward Jeff and met him at the bottom of the steep hill. “We have to build the sanctuary up on top of this hill. It is the perfect place. C’mon, let’s head up there and let me show it to you!” “Not so fast” one of the other men exclaimed. “We will be celebrating Mass at the end of the workday, every day, and that means climbing a good 600 feet up when we are all tired from a hard day’s work". Jeff persisted and was almost manic about it. Finally, Father said “ok, ok let’s go up and take a look” more out of a need appease than to give his idea credence. So, up the mountain we climbed.
We were not disappointed. When we got to the top of this rugged knoll, we found it to be a beautiful sanctuary in its own right, surrounded by weather beaten spruce on 2 sides and opening up to the east with a view of the Rocky Mountains of northern Montana. Additionally, it provided a treasure of good rock to build the Altar upon which the sacrifice of the Mass would take place.
Father took one look around and announced his blessing, “This is it!” We all felt the same and cut Jeff a little slack for having championed this spot so vigorously. “Let’s go get some tools and start building.” One of the men said so 3 men headed down to the bottom of the hill to retrieve the implements of construction while the others stayed behind to start clearing the area and looking for good building materials.
When the men got into camp to get the tools, Steve our USFS guide, asked them what they were up to. They told him that we were going to build the Sanctuary to which Steve replied, “Hey, I’m Catholic, can I join in? “Well of course you can Brother!” they replied and back up the hill they came with Steve leading the way.
Steve bears the cut of a mountain man. Born and raised in Minnesota, 6’+ tall rugged and lean, with an introspective though affable nature. He played quarterback in high school and carried that trade into college. He started working for the forest service right out of college, did his stint as a forest fire fighter and then migrated into trail building. HIs budding Catholic family attended Mass at the local Catholic church and the backcountry of the northern panhandle provided ample opportunity and solitude to hunt the big elk with bow and arrow.
When they made it to the top of the hill Steve instinctively started working with the men building the Altar.
Altar building is interesting to watch. Some men collect big rock and place them where the altar is built; others start working on constructing the Altar using the collected rock. Some men try to lead the effort not really understanding basic concepts like: Angular rocks are better than round ones and big rocks go on the bottom, smaller rocks toward the top. Arguments happen. I used to get directly involved and manage the work but started to realize how fruitful these interactions can be. Nowadays I tend to stand back with the camera and record the events.
That’s how it proceeded; some men collecting rocks, others working on pew layout and construction, and 3 others arguing about how to construct the Altar. And then I heard Steve call out my name “Hey John, look at this!”
It was one of those times when it is difficult to get your bearings; like having someone put a blindfold on you and spin you around, throw you in a vehicle and then plop you out somewhere you are not expecting, but something looks familiar and stunning at the same time leaving your mind in a whirl of questions and your emotions almost giddy. “What is that? Where did you find it? What??!!”
Steve was standing there with a grin on his face; a boyish, exuberant, what the heck just happened, grin on his face. “Look at This!” It was a stone with John 3:17 written on it. “For God sent not His Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through Him might be saved.”
Its printing was impeccable, done by someone skilled in the art of calligraphy. At first glance it appeared to be carved into the rock, but with further study it appeared to be paint or ink. “Where did you find it?” someone asked, “Over there lying face down.” Steve replied and laid it back down to show everyone.
“We have probably discovered one of Old William’s rocks. He was a man from Scotland who lived in these mountains in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, shepherding sheep and writing Scripture on rocks. I have never seen one before but have heard about them. Most of them were exposed to the weather and through time the writing disappeared. This one was lying face down and was probably protected from the elements.” “What caused him to do all of that?” One of the men asked. Steve continued “What I remember of the legend is that he was born and lived in Scotland. He fell in love with and tried courting a young lady who would have nothing to do with him. He was heartbroken and turned his life toward adventure. He got on a steamer and headed for America and once here started working his way across the country gambling, drinking and carousing trying to obliterate his misery. By the time he made it into Idaho he hit the bottom where he met Jesus Christ in an intense conversion. Supposedly Jesus told him to become a shepherd and go to the mountains and care for sheep. Through time he started writing scripture on rocks. That is what he did for the rest of his life. I believe we have found one of his rocks.”
It was about that time that Fr. Coning, perhaps a bit tongue and cheek, pronounced that that the whole affair was miraculous. Miracle is a big word. I’m a fan of Fr. Stanley Jaki, a PHD physicist, who has stated that for one, miracles are improbable occurrences for which a physical scientific explanation does not and cannot exist. I also liked what I heard Bishop Frederick Campbell once say, that one may be in the presence of a miracle given that its occurrence is highly mathematically improbable. For sure I have been in the presence of the latter several times in my life and this one made the hair on the back of my head stand up. There was a whole lot of cause-and-effect relationships that had to unroll that led up to this event. The actions of a young woman in 19th century Scotland, the denial of another Ranger District to our crew, the career path of our Catholic Forest Service leader, Jeff’s manic persuasion that we had to build the sanctuary on top of the mountain. All of these events and many more had to line up to bring us to that point in the history of God’s universe.
We incorporated the Rock into our Altar where it remained until we dismantled all of the unhewn stones and placed each one back into the ground from which they came, including the Shepherd’s Rock face down in the exact position where Steve found it.
We built a mile of new trail on that expedition. It was a slog. It rained every day and in it we worked every day. It also cleared at the end of every workday, with the sun shining brightly by the time we finished our hour of solitude and silence preceding the celebration of the Mass. And each day we climbed that 600 feet up to our sanctuary and the Shepherd’s Rock. It was our spiritual home where we nourished ourselves with the Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ and discussed our duty as God created men.
