‘Priesthood gives you a front-row seat to life’

Father Jim Perkl, a 62-year-old Edina native, may be the only priest who both writes icons and rides a motorcycle. As pastor of Mary, Mother of the Church in Burnsville, he encounters the full scope of the human condition.

Q) Let’s start on a light note. Tell me about your beard.

A) Now that my hair is falling out on top, it grows a lot easier on the chin. I’m hoping it’s a sign of age and growing wisdom. It began back in 1979, when I went on an international studies program through St. Olaf College. My call to priesthood happened at the Pool of Bethesda in Israel. The guys on the trip said, “OK, here we are on this journey. Let’s not shave!” That’s how it began.

Q) You’ve been writing icons for more than two decades. How did you get started?

A) Both my parents had an artistic ability, but I never developed that. I was at the seminary, St. John Vianney (College Seminary), working as a spiritual director, and I heard that an icon class was being offered.

I’d never picked up a paint brush until that first icon. Iconography is another way of preaching, to proclaim the Gospel to the eye. The preacher is silent and hidden because we don’t sign the icons. In that way, it’s kind of like St. Joseph: He’s a steward of the mysteries of God. And by writing the icon, you can invite people into the mystery.

Q) It takes a certain humility to remain behind the scenes like that.

A) Yeah. That masculine character sometimes gets in the way. You’re remaining hidden, and on the other hand, you’ve also lived these mysteries, particularly through shepherding people and through the confessional, you are experiencing these mysteries, so you are in fact writing an image that’s passed on.

Priesthood gives you a front-row seat to life, and icons help you write what you see.

Q) What a thrill to see where that paintbrush leads you!

A) You discover some surprises! For example, I did an icon for The St. Paul Seminary, their St. Olaf Room, called the St. Olaf Icon — so I was writing an icon for the men at the seminary. I was putting little impressions in the gold halo. It was about midnight, and I was really tired, and for some reason the thought came: “Count them! Are you sure you want to put one more impression in there? Maybe it’s done.”

So, I counted them, and there were 84 — the year I was ordained. And those men looking at the ordination are anticipating their own ordination day, when their studies are complete and when life begins.

Q) Thirty-seven years in, what has surprised you about priesthood?

A) I’m always just beginning. There’s always conversion: conversion of mind, conversion of heart and conversion of life.

Q) Does the icon work feel like a gift from God?

A) Yes. It’s made me reflect. Icon writing is a prayerful, quiet process. Pastoral ministry is very extroverted. God has a way of connecting lines, and icons have helped me connect lines.

Q) Tell me about your process, working in a studio in a friend’s Prior Lake home.

A) Because pastors don’t have a ton of time, I tend to set aside a block or two of time and then a week or two of time and then I just work from getting up until I can’t work anymore.

Q) You use egg tempera. How do you guild?

A) You breathe into the clay and then the gold is applied. It’s best to have the house at a cold temperature and your mouth dry, but you want warm air coming across the clay. The beard helps warm and soften the clay — so it actually does relate!

Q) What else helps you de-stress from the demands of pastoral ministry?

A) I’m an outdoor guy. I love skiing. I rollerblade, skate, bike, walk. Right before the pandemic, I was on a sabbatical and walked the Camino. While in Spain, we were hitting these towns where bulls were running through, and in this third town, I thought, “What the heck! Let’s do that!”

Oh my goodness gracious! We actually got hit by the bull three times! There were drinks for everyone afterwards. They’re hugging you, “Yay! Man versus bull!” I’ve never seen so many people so happy. But the wisdom of the beard tells me: Never again run with the bulls!

Q) You also ride a motorcycle.

A) It’s relaxing. I don’t use it as a mode of transportation. I take long trips. I have an old-school motorcycle, a 2000 Kawasaki Concours. Small world: a friend of a parishioner got wind that I needed a new engine, and the Cursillo guys and Knights of Columbus pitched in to give me a new engine.

Q) Did you ever guess that one day as a priest you’d be hopping on a motorcycle?

A) Priests are involved in the lives of their people. You don’t join the priesthood to get rich, that’s for sure. But there’s a wealth that’s a love.

Q) What makes for a good retreat?

A) Silence. We’ve got wonderful retreat centers like Christ the King and the Franciscan Retreat House. Whether you’re in a group or there as an individual, either way, it’s Jesus wanting to get more deeply into your heart.

Before the pandemic happened, Father Tim (Rudolphi, associate pastor) and I encouraged our parishioners to set aside a prayer place in their homes. Give Jesus a place of rest in the home.

If you’re in the world, Sunday is your day of retreat — and that means worship. The greatest injustice in the world is forgetting to thank God, who provides everything.

Q) You seem so well suited to priesthood. Is there a quality required of this vocation that doesn’t come naturally to you?

A) The quick answer is listening to what God is saying. Maybe you’re in the confessional or maybe in pastoral counseling — there’s a lot of stuff going on, so how do we hear the real life that’s going on underneath that? Listening for the grace that’s in life — there’s a beautiful message that can be discovered.