Father Kyle Kowalczyk, 43, keeps busy as pastor of St. Maximilian Kolbe in Delano, but the Michigan native also makes time for distance running and playwriting, two passions that fuel his faith. His theater company, Missed the Boat Theatre, has flourished since its 2019 founding. June 20-29, Missed the Boat will perform “Catholic Young Adults: The Musical,” which Father Kowalczyk wrote, at St. Agnes School in St. Paul.
Q) As a boy in Michigan, did you get a lot of time outside?
A) Growing up, we played outside all the time. We were always out in the woods, building stuff, exploring, playing make-believe.
I still enjoy being out in nature. I’m a runner. I’ll run and it’s homily prep time — thoughts come to me, blood is pumping, clarity of mind. I’ve got three hours to think. Sometimes I’m listening to audiobooks or podcasts. Sometimes it’s just silence. I’m with the Lord and nature, and it’s very freeing.
Q) So, you’re a distance runner?
A) I’ve been getting into ultramarathons — anything longer than 26.2 miles. A 50K would be common, then 50 miles. One hundred miles is kind of the gold standard.
I run in Altras because I have very wide toes. When I run the neighborhoods, I’m running past parishioners’ houses. If it’s a longer run, I have a couple trails, the Luce Line, and then there’s Rebecca’s Park (Reserve), and they have horse loop trails and mountain bike trails and paved trails.
I find that, as a priest, I can’t do anything if it’s not going to make me a better priest or be, in some way, ministerial. With running, I find that I feel better, I’m healthier, I’m more effective, I’m getting to bed at the right time, waking up at the right time. There’s a real growth in virtue there: I’m doing something that part of me doesn’t want to do, but I know it’s good for me.
Bishop (Thomas) Paprocki from an Illinois diocese wrote a book on running (“Running for a Higher Purpose”), and he talks about all the virtues of running. It’s really encouraging when a bishop of the Church says: Yeah, this is actually good. You might be called to do this.
Q) How has Catholicism nurtured your creativity?
A) As I’ve gotten more mature in my faith and understand the artistic geniuses who have gone before, I see that this is a real important part of our faith: art and beauty. I want to strive for excellence, I want to strive for beauty, I want to strive for creativity because that’s what our Father does.
There’s a quote from Flannery O’Connor, and she says: “When people have told me that because I am a Catholic, I cannot be an artist, I have had to reply, ruefully, that because I am a Catholic, I cannot afford to be less than an artist.”
Q) What do you love about theater?
A) When I was young, I was creating a lot of chaos, getting into trouble in school and at home. Then, when I discovered theater in high school, it was kind of like my pre-conversion: “Whoa! I have this place to pour my creative energy.” I’ve always been an idea person, and it gave me an outlet for those ideas. Without it, you think: “Hey, what if I jump off this cliff? What if I stole this sign?” If I can put my what-ifs on a page — and then put it on the stage and maybe get some of that attention we’re all searching for, it filled a need that I had.
Q) Humor writing is hard. How did you develop a sense of humor?
A) That was my way to get attention. I kind of became the class clown and found things that I could do that were funny. “Hey, I can get everybody to laugh and disrupt class!”
After I had graduated, my assistant principal saw me one day out skateboarding, and he said: “Kyle, I couldn’t tell you this when you were in school, but we used to get a kick out of your papers that you would have to write for in-school detention. They were so funny! I actually gave one to my wife and she used it for her adult-ed creative writing class as an example.” It was my sarcastic, cynical self that developed this humor, and then all things are redeemed in Christ, and I was able to bring it into the light.
Q) How do you guard your sense of wonder?
A) We can fill our world will so much noise and input that we don’t give ourselves a chance to wonder. Part of my vocation — as a priest, but as a Christian — is a regular time of silence in front of the Blessed Sacrament. You learn how to be. Silence is so important. That has gotten lost. You have to be very intentional.
Sometimes I want to distract myself and listen to something, and I say, “Nope, I’m going to let my mind go where it wants to go.” It takes time, too. Ten minutes of silence isn’t enough to get past the periphery thing, but you get into a second or third hour, now you’re in a different world, a different frame of mind.
When I was on retreat this last year, I was at a hermitage in Arizona, and I didn’t have my phone, I didn’t even have any books. I didn’t multi-task anything. It was so freeing. It was eight days of silence.
Most people think, “I could never do that.” And I think, “Well, you could surprise yourself.” Because I’m an extrovert, and that’s not my normal mode of being.
Q) It sounds like you have lots of ideas for plays.
A) There’s no shortage of ideas. The shortage is always time. A project that I’m working on; it’s been in the works for four years.
Q) Is it overwhelming to have so many demands placed on you?
A) It can be, especially when there are things that need immediate attention. That’s the challenge: learning what needs immediate attention and what doesn’t. I’ve had good priests’ counsel over the years. One priest said, “There are very few things that are actual emergencies. Don’t treat them like it.”
A priest is as busy as he chooses to be. He can be really, really busy or really lazy. It’s finding that balance based on you, your needs, your makeup, your parish’s needs. There is always more that you could do, and you will never complete it all — and you are not the Messiah.
Q) What have you learned about time management?
A) Putting first things first. Prayer needs to be the priority of my day. I don’t watch TV. I’m pretty focused. Writing exercises a different part of my brain. It’s exciting and rejuvenating, whereas watching TV can waste a lot of time.
Q) You have such a refreshing humanity to you. You’re humble and relatable.
A) There’s this irony that a good writer captures the essence of human nature. But they sit in their house by themselves with their typewriter. They don’t actually go out and see humanity. Whereas a priest, he’s necessarily with the people. He’s in the confessional. He has this special lens into the world, the inner workings of human nature. A priest has access into places that nobody else has access to. It’s very humbling. I learned very early on in my priesthood that the most important things I do have nothing to do with Kyle Kowalczyk, my education, my gifts or talents. Nope, I pick up the monstrance, and I bless people with it. I lean over the altar with a piece of bread, and Jesus shows up. That has nothing to do with me. The most important things I do are because God saw fit to call me a priest, for whatever reason.
