My Catholic faith: A mountain reflection

A Knight’s perspective

On this late July morning, the clear skies, calm winds, and cool mountain chill gave way to thick fog as I drove through the hollows toward the work site. My destination was Mt. Ascutney, a prominent, isolated peak rising above Vermont’s Connecticut River Valley near the New Hampshire border. Three-quarters of the way up the 3.8-mile toll road, I pulled off at a scenic overlook to review the day’s scheduled work for a new cable construction project stretching from the base to the summit. I was reminded again that, by God’s grace, working outdoors is a place where faith speaks most clearly to me.

The view from the overlook was breathtaking. The rising sun revealed white billowing clouds flowing for miles beneath the mountain peaks, like riverbanks on either side. Nearby, perhaps from a Hermit Thrush – Vermont’s state bird – a recurring song rose into the air. Though the mountain wildlife remained hidden from view, I knew the woods were stirring. As I soaked up my surroundings, I began to see how this challenging project reflected the deeper journey of my spiritual life.

I have come to realize the peace of these moments is rooted in my Catholic faith and my French-Canadian heritage. My ancestors were master mariners and laborers who crossed the Atlantic from Normandy in the 17th century to help establish New France. No doubt this generational inheritance is why I was drawn to the trades. For generations, these ancestors carried their deep Catholic devotion across borders, eventually settling in Quebec before migrating south. The same faith that sustained them through their many challenges is the faith that sustains me today.

My generation grew up in the 1970s; we were the independent, self-reliant Generation X. As a cradle Catholic, I attended parochial schools a decade after the Second Vatican Council sought to adapt to the modern world. In practice, many of us experienced a Church that had become less confident in teaching its own doctrines, devotions, rules, and rich mysteries. We heard much about God’s love, community, and personal conscience, but too often we were not given a deeper faith formation. Many Gen X Catholics were taught to be “nice people,” but not always formed to become mature disciples.

Yet, wanting to understand our faith more deeply is not limited to my generation. I see it clearly in the stories of men of all ages who attend our monthly Knights of Columbus Cor faith meetings in our parish. In the prayer, formation, and fraternity of Cor, the men share their faith struggles, and you can see a true longing for Christ. Likewise, I sense a hunger rising among the women of our parish who, with the guidance of a priest or deacon, could benefit from an exclusive women’s program or a co-ed Bible study group. It has shown me that we all share a call to take our personal faith seriously and to dig deeper to understand the “Good News.” For me, it is no longer enough to attend Mass each week and live a purely secular life the rest of the time. God has graced us with the gifts found in Holy Scripture and the sacraments, inviting us to expand our understanding of what it means to be true Catholics.

This journey requires us to embrace challenges, ask tough questions, and confront the reality of a Catholic Church that has stumbled but, despite its hardships, always finds its footing. It demands a level of dedication, commitment, and hard work that mirrors what I see in my labor crew every day. True spiritual understanding is formed through hard work and perseverance.

As I watch the crew on this harsh mountainside – slowly making their way through thick underbrush, sweating and breathing hard with each step to clear a safe path for those who follow – I am reminded of John the Baptist’s call to “Make straight the Way of the Lord.” Their grueling physical effort reflects our own call to break through the distractions of secular life; to find a clear path to Christ. It is a rugged, beautiful, and sacred mission that belongs to each one of us.

When the day ends, and tools and trucks are packed up, I am the last member of the crew still on the mountain. It is my responsibility to check the completed work and make sure every man is accounted for. In my spiritual life, I see a similar duty: to prepare my own soul for salvation and to labor, as faithfully as I can, for the salvation of others.

Mike Langlois began his journey as a contributing writer for The Catholic Sun in 2025. He is a husband and father residing in Peru, New York, and serves as the Upstate Conference Coordinator for Evangelization and Faith Formation for the New York State Knights of Columbus.  Mike has been a freelance writer for both secular and Christian publications for more than 30 years. In his column, Mike offers personal reflections as he continues to grow in the Catholic faith.