Christianity – Spiritual accompaniment

The Genesis creation stor(ies), Jesus’ parables, chaos, stability, change

May 2, 2026

During this first term in my master’s in theology program, we’ve been reading through the first five books of the Hebrew Bible (the Torah/Pentateuch), the four canonical gospels, the Acts of the Apostles, and the Book of Revelation.

Our two courses – one on the Hebrew Bible and one for the New Testament – were chosen as our first two classes to lay a groundwork. Tear down “what we thought we new about the Bible” and learn to look at it in fresh ways through the insights provided through Biblical Studies.

The two combined classes and the class textbooks have – indeed – percolated an interesting combination of insights that has captured my imagination.

In Greek – the language through which the complete Bible first came to us – the word COSMOS (order) is opposite of the word CHAOS.

In the time of Old Testament at at the time of Jesus, water represented chaos.

When Genesis tells of God creating the world (there are actually two versions of the story), the water – chaos – was separated from land. In creating the world, God created order out of chaos. God can create order in the world and create a world in which we can inhabit.

In the New Testament stories when Jesus walked on water toward the disciples and calmed the tempestuous water storm(s), these weren’t just physically miraculous. Walking on water and calming storms on the sea likewise represented calming chaos. Jesus calms the chaos in our lives.

Yet, Jesus is also the disrupter.

While the Genesis creation story is told in the ways in which tell us of order being created in our world, Jesus spoke in parables.

I learned to consider parables in more depth this term from writer Bernard Brandon Scott in his book Hear then the Parable (a commentary on the Parables of Jesus). Parables, it turns out, developed as a distinct form of communicating lessons in the geographic area of Christ during the time of Jesus. Jesus was among the first people to use parables. In telling parables, Jesus brought about social disruption. He used parables to take us from “here is something with which you are familiar (A, B, C.)” to “I hereby compare A, B, or C to ‘a better way to live’ and/or ‘X is how to get to heaven.'” He disrupted our famliar ways of living to show us his path.

All of this still applies today. When we encounter storms in life, we can turn to our God who loves us and who shelters us amidst the chaos of storms. Yet, the God who loves us as we are – as the saying goes – “loves us too much to leave us the way we are.”

It is up to us to allow God to change us into the people we are meant to be. No easy undertaking. This is involves surrender. I am not the master of my destiny. Personally, I’m attracted to the person I come closer to being when I allow God to shift me toward becoming the person I am meant to be.

Our social order comes closer to the world God wants for us when more of us spend more time allowing God to transform us toward being the people we are meant to be.

People of faith, becoming Easter people….

April 29, 2026

When I taught baptism preparation classes for parents and godparents, talking about baptism inherently required talking about Adam and Eve and “The Fall.” When we are baptized, we are given grace that helps us to reduce our tendency to sin – this human tendency to sin dates back to humanity’s fall in the Garden of Eden. When I would very quickly start talking about “The Fall” in these baptism prep classes – so that I could then get to the good part of explaining grace and baptism – I would tell parents and godparents that “the longer I am in church, the more convinced I am that ‘The Fall” happened with Adam and Eve. If you’re not sure that humanity’s ‘fall’ happened in the Garden of Eden, just turn on the news and listen to all the crazy things that we humans do. Humanity’s fall with Adam and Eve actually does an effective job of explaining our collective human faults……”

I have come to notice that the “church people” I most admire share a common quality. One way or another, each of them really, genuinely draw a connection between being people of faith to recognizing the darkest parts of themselves and facing-and-overcoming/improving those dark parts of themselves within the context of their faith. And, they talk about it. Often, this “talking about it” comes up in one-on-one conversations. I’ve heard people talk about overcoming depression, getting over being terrible to their spouses, about how there was a time when “they shouldn’t have had children” (and didn’t) to now being people who are visibly caring toward the people in their lives. The list goes on. Personally, I tend to talk about my challenges within prayer groups (a great place to find contemplative prayer groups is Contemplative Outreach).

This process of overcoming our darkest corners really pays off. We’ve all got dark corners in our lives. These are the parts of ourselves that we wouldn’t want to see described in the newspaper….. Being honest about this stuff takes courage. I think most of us are aware of the darkest parts of ourselves – whether we simply feel pulled down by it and don’t know what to do about it (that really does drag a person down emotionally) or if we take a hard, honest look at it “in the light of day.” Sometimes, getting honest about this stuff happens out of some kind of necessity (i.e., one’s particular form of darkness becomes manifest in some way that ends up requiring that it be addressed). Sometimes, people just want to become better people. No matter what path we take to really facing up to the darkest parts of ourselves, there is liberation to be found in letting God transform us. And, it really is God who transforms us. The best and most liberating transformation comes through our God who can – and will – bring about salvation.

Surrendering to letting God change our innermost selves can sometimes be terrifying. “My innermost self is ‘Who I am.’ What’s going to happen if I let God tamper with my innermost self?” What happens is that we become the people we are meant to be. We become better people. Transformation and freedom happen.

A couple of days ago, I had one of those “Murphy’s law” afternoons when “everything that can go wrong” does go wrong” (or, “things go wrong in ways that we couldn’t have even thought of”). I started coming unraveled. I recognized the unraveling when I shouted about that day’s version of “Murphy’s Law” and realized that my behavior was going to upset my cat (who had no control over my behavior). “Oh, my cat doesn’t need to be subjected to my unraveling.” I’ve been “doing church” long enough to know that this “unravelling” is no longer necessary when Murphy shows up and imposes his law. Further, I have experienced the process of God improving me enough to be able to shift toward that transforming process. I emotionally sat down and tapped into the transformative process I have learned in church. The unraveling began to reverse. There’s freedom in that. We don’t have be stuck in the worst parts of ourselves. We can become the people we want to see described in the newspaper (or, the church bulletin).

We are currently in the Easter season – the fifty days from Easter to Pentecost. God died for our sins and rose again so that we can join “the Risen Christ.” Our surrender in which we allow God to transform us means tapping into Jesus’s death and resurrection. This is truly beautiful. Transformative. It’s freely available to all of us. God wants to be in our lives. “Being the people we were meant to be” is an available option. Happy Easter.

Kim Burkhardt blogs about faith at The Hermitage Within. Thank you for reading this faith blog and for sharing it with your friends. While you are here, please feel welcome to provide support to sustain this blog ($$). You can also $$ support this blog by clicking here here to do your Amazon shopping (if you click here before you start your Amazon shopping, Amazon pays us a commission when you shop via the link provided).

“Be not afraid”

April 14, 2026

We church goers like to think of ourselves as faithful people.

If one spends enough time in church, one is bound to hear about trusting in God. “Bring all of your challenges to God.”

I periodically ponder the presence of fear in people’s lives (both in my life and in the lives of other people). Everyone is afraid of something. Fear of getting seriously ill. Fear of losing a job. Fear of being alone. Fear of being publicly shamed. Fear of losing one’s home. Fear of being attacked at night on a “scary street corner.” Fear of making a wrong decision. Fear if making a major change in one’s life. There’s an endless list of things people fear…..

Perhaps I am able to ponder the topic of fear because the topics I fear sometimes differ from other people. This brings fear into stark perspective. I’d rather volunteer in a federal prison than carry a cell phone to “protect myself in an emergency.” I prefer traveling alone (this makes it easier to give my full attention to experiencing the place I am visiting), while apparently many people want to be social while travelling and some people are “afraid to travel alone.” A couple of years ago, several friends protested when I told them I was going to go camping alone ‘off road” with no cell phone (excuse me, but there’s no cell phone reception where I was going anyway…..) – one friend was so concerned that he insisted on paying my campground fees if I would go to a campground instead so that I could risk camping next to a crazy troublemaker instead of going-it-alone (the pay-campground-fees friend reads this blog – I can imagine the phone call I’m going to get…)….. My sisters also go camping off-road alone – maybe it’s a quirky family trait…. A couple years ago, another friend commented on his admiration of my willingness to occasionally pack up alone and move to a new city (I haven’t got the foggiest idea of how to be afraid of doing that – I like the adventure….). Sometimes I don’t understand why the people around me are afraid of things that don’t scare me, while other people don’t understand why I am afraid of the things I fear……

At present, I – as a condo dweller – am learning about condo association boards. I’ve been told that there are condo boards (not mine, fortunately) who drag their feet on making decisions about various matters affecting their condo communities. I suspect that this dragging-of-feet happens for various reasons – ranging from lack of knowledge about how to make certain decisions to fear (fear of not knowing what to do, fear of making the wrong decision, etc.).

In any event, most-or-all of us sometimes let fear stop us from doing things that are in our best interest. Myself included. There is an adage that perhaps “fear ought to be classed with stealing. It seems to cause more trouble.”

Yet…

One cannot truly be a person of faith – faithful – if we make decisions based on fear. When we let fear immobilize us, we are not trusting God. “My fear and/or the-thing-I-fear is bigger than God’s ability to get me through the-thing-I-fear.” “My fear belongs to me. My fear is mine – it’s intrinsically part of me. I’m not going to surrender my innermost self and/or my most gripping fears to God. God can’t have my innermost self.”

Truly being a person of faith means allowing God to walk us through our fears. God is for real and God is not smaller than our fears. Allowing God to walk us through our fears is often unlikely to result in us experiencing “the worst case scenario of what we fear” (i.e., “I’m afraid I’m going to experience ‘X-or-Y tragic outcome’ if I don’t sit at home immobolized by my fear”). I have experienced in recent years is that some of my best growth has happened when I surrendered to letting God walk me through something difficult challenge. Solutions are often found and I get through challenges in happier ways that I could have on my own. While some situations are not fixable, trusting God in difficult situations often ends up with me maturing in good and useful ways…….

Many are familiar with the popular hymn Be Not Afraid. This isn’t just a “nice song for church on Sunday” or a comforting song to listen to at funerals (while it is those things). Truly being a person of faith has to mean letting God walk us through the things we most fear.

The Old Testament and today’s liturgical church services……

March 11, 2026

When I was accepted into in my master’s in theology program, we were instructed to start reading Liturgy of the Hours, daily divine readings read around the world by priests, religious, and interested lay people.

This excerpt from the Book of Exodus (33:7-11) is included in this morning’s Liturgy of the Hours:

⁷Now Moses used to take a tent and pitch it outside the camp some distance away, calling it the “tent of meeting.” Anyone inquiring of the Lord would go to the tent of meeting outside the camp. ⁸And whenever Moses went out to the tent, all the people rose and stood at the entrances to their tents, watching Moses until he entered the tent. ⁹As Moses went into the tent, the pillar of cloud would come down and stay at the entrance, while the Lord spoke with Moses. ¹⁰Whenever the people saw the pillar of cloud standing at the entrance to the tent, they all stood and worshiped, each at the entrance to their tent. ¹¹The Lord would speak to Moses face to face, as one speaks to a friend. Then Moses would return to the camp, but his young aide Joshua son of Nun did not leave the tent.

For anyone familiar with modern church services, it looks to me that this passage likely contributed to the historical development of today’s church services for denominations that are liturgy-based. In liturgy-based church services, everyone stands during important points in the service.

Several years ago, a musician friend observed that important parts of a church service can be identified by watching the congregation. He observed, “Catholics stand for important points of the service, while at AME (African Methodist Episcopal) singing is done during important parts of the service” (he’s been the staff musician for both denominations at different times. He said it took awhile for him as a musician to notice this distinction).

Like my music friend, I find it interesting to observe the flow of religious services.

In the earliest days of Christianity, Christians met in homes and shared meals together – something along the lines of breaking bread together as Christ did with the apostles at “the last supper” (I am generalizing very broadly). From what I understand of church history, meeting in “churches” – public buildings – began after Constantine legalized Christianity in the Roman Empire in the early 300’s. It took time after that for the church liturgy to start looking like the church services that we recognize today. Occasional adjustments to church services continue to happen – such as switching from Latin to the local language following Vatican II.

Side note….. Has anyone else noticed the subtle change in church services that I’ve noticed following COVID? Prior to COVID, the “Catholic calisthenics” during liturgical services would include parishioners putting down the kneelers when it’s time to kneel. Often (though maybe not universally), there would then be lifting-and-lowering of the kneelers during each portion of the “calisthenics” portion of the service….. Then….when services started up again following COVID closures, I noticed that it became more common for parishioners to simply leave the kneelers “down” during the entire “calisthenics” portion of the service (i.e., leaving the kneelers down while standing and then simply returning to kneeling on kneelers that are left down). Now, it seems that increasing numbers of people are returning to “lifting and lowering” the kneelers during “calisthenics.”

Wishing everyone a fruitful Lenten season…..

Moses and Religious Symbolism

March 7, 2026

Many of us learn the religious symbolism of the Exodus. The Israelites fleeing slavery in Egypt for the freedom of the Promised Land represents spiritual transformation. On the way from Egypt to the Promised Land, the parting of the red sea symbolizes leaving slavery. Wandering for 40 years in the desert before entering the Promised Land was punishment for disobeying God. In spiritual transformation, we are freed from our personal bondage of emotional/mental/life slavery for the transformational freedom God provides us. When we don’t fully follow God today, we wander in a personal desert rather than enter the Promised Land promised via a full relationship with our God.

Beyond already being familiar with the symbolism of Exodus, I’ve been struck by learning in this week’s theological studies about how Moses’ demographics represent a multiplicity of ethnic and religious symbolism that fully allowed him to be the leader leading his fellow Hebrews out of slavery in Egypt. For example:

As a Hebrew adopted into Pharaoh’s royal Egyptian household by Pharaoh’s daughter and then growing up to marry a Midianite wife, Moses was in a distinct position to mediate between these varying ethnic groups.
As a Levite, Moses belonged to Israel’s priestly tribe. This qualified him to be Israelite’s spiritual leader. He was therefore qualified to mediate between his fellow Israelites and God [including receive the ten commandments), unite the twelve tribes (a nation-building rite of passage toward a unified Israel), and to lead his fellow Israelites out of slavery].

In the end, though, Moses himself died before the Israelites made it to the Promised Land. I find myself wondering if is representative of we humans falling short (i.e., we know that it is only God who can fully lead us to Promised Land)?

During this Lenten season, we can ask ourselves what we are doing to approach the Promised Land. How do we – individually and collectively – remain in bondage that keeps us from a full relationship with God and from being in better relationship with the people around us? How are we failing to allow God to turn us into the people that God intends for us to be? Really answering these questions and grappling with what this implies can be uncomfortable. Not answering these questions – and remaining where we are – would ultimately be more uncomfortable (and, really, irresponsible). To truly be (or to become) people of faith, we must step up and do what’s necessary to allow God to bring us to the Promised Land.

Matthew 22:34-40: Love God and love your neighbor as yourself. Anything that doesn’t measure up to loving God, loving our neighbors, and becoming the person we are truly suppose to be is going to prevent us from allowing God to bring us to the Promised Land.

Redemption, hope, Lent…..

February 13, 2026

When I had a re-conversion experience in 2016 (that story is told here), I had a profound experience of being loved by God. Love brings about hope.

More recently, in my master’s in theology program we’ve been reading through the first five books of the Hebrew Bible (the Torah/Pentateuch), the four canonical gospels, and the Acts of the Apostles. In reading the gospels of Mark and Matthew, I started getting discouraged. I thought, “Such a high degree of righteousness, self-sacrifice, etc. is required to enter the Kingdom of Heaven. I’ll never make it.” That discouragement is unnecessary, of course, because it is possible for us to do what’s presented to us – but I wasn’t seeing that. Further, I normally don’t take an interest in the future “Kingdom of Heaven” – I normally take the attitude that “Life is challenging. Forget about later – I need God now.” Then, someone changed my recent perspective yesterday – a reminder that our faith journey is meant to be done in community. We learn and apply charity in community. We learn to be faithful in community. Faith and spirituality are not a “me and God” endeavor – it’s socially about “us together in a faith community.”

What was said yesterday to change my perspective about feeling discouraged (“I’ll never make it to heaven – I’m not up for this righteousness business”)? A priest asked me about my theological studies. I told him, “We are trudging through the ‘who begat who’ in the Old Testament.'” He replied, “That’s important information, actually. You’ll notice that in Jesus’ lineage, it was mostly men who are listed in Genesis. But four of Jesus’ female ancestors are specifically listed.” That had also come up in class….. He reminded me, “All four of those women were pivotal. And, each of them did things that weren’t righteous. Jesus’ ancestors weren’t perfect – we don’t have to be either” [I forget how he worded this – something to the effect of these four women not being righteous].

All four of these women experienced some king of vulnerability. And, each of them did something unrighteous. Without them, there wouldn’t have been the historical lineage that brought us Jesus Christ.

One of the resources we’re using at school, Bible Odyssey, has this to say about these four women: “Tamar, daughter-in-law of Judah, was twice-widowed and childless. In Gen 38, she disguised herself, seduced her father-in-law, and conceived twin sons. Judah accused her of promiscuity, but ultimately even he recognized her as righteous. Rahab was a Canaanite prostitute, who was approached by Israelite spies (Josh 2, 6). By securing their safety she secured a future for herself and her family among the Israelites. Ruth was a Moabite and a childless widow (Ruth 1–4). She provided for herself and her mother-in-law by spending the night with their relative, Boaz, on the threshing floor. They married, and, with him, she carried on the family line. Bathsheba was already married when King David ordered for her to be brought to him. When she conceived David’s child, he had her husband killed and married her. Their first child died, but Bathsheba later ensured a place for herself and her family through their second son, Solomon (2 Sam 11–12; 1 Kgs 1).”

This comes back to what Christ said during his time on earth. “I didn’t come for the righteous. Those who are well don’t need a doctor. I came for sinners – the likes of the tax collectors and the prostitutes.”

Even Jesus’ ancestors did things that we wouldn’t want mentioned in the newspaper if we did those same things today. Yikes – Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, and Bathsheba (Jesus’ ancestors) didn’t just get a current events news story for their actions that would be forgotten in weeks or years. Their activities are in print for all future generations to read! Yet, we got Jesus Christ among their future descendants…..

Hmmm….. As for my earlier comment about “Forget about the future Kingdom of Heaven, I need God now.” We can have good lives today. Christ actually intends for our current social fabric – and our own lives and the lives of the people around us – to better than the difficulties that we often experience. If we truly apply the “Be-Attitudes” that we heard about in the Sunday readings a couple weeks ago, we can each contribute to a better world today.

Ash Wednesday is coming up next week. For Lent this year, I’m going to continue giving up something that I’ve recently started working to give up. I’m giving up continued frustration over a previous life difficulty that I neither caused nor had any control over. “Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.” It’s up to us to contribute to the world we want to live in. It is up to us to do “the heavy lifting.”

What are you giving up for Lent this year? In other words, what have you got to gain this year?

Symbolism in the Gospel of Mark

January 30, 2026

In my Master’s in Theology program, we are reading the Gospel of Mark this week. Mark is thought to have been the first of the four canonical gospels to have been written – probably in about year 70 (the year of the destruction of the temple). The other two synoptic gospels (i.e., similarly fashioned gospels) – Matthew and Luke – are thought to have drawn from Mark.

When I sat down this morning to read Mark’s gospel, I saw it with fresh eyes. I previously read the entire Hebrew Bible and New Testament from the first page of Genesis to the last page of Revelation, but that was well prior to having much biblical instruction. I then took a several-weeks class on Mark perhaps seven or eight years ago. Yet, I am still seeing it anew.

The first chapter of Mark – the beginning of the message of Christ in writing – leads us directly into redemptive symbolism.

Mark begins with a prophetic Hebrew Bible quote from Isaiah: “See, I am sending my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way, the voice of one crying out in the wilderness: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord; make his paths straight.’ so John the baptizer appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. And the whole Judean region and all the people of Jerusalem were going out to him and were baptized by him in the River Jordan, confessing their sins.” (Mark 1:2-5).

So much symbolism to unpack in one short paragraph. Isaiah is part of the Old Testament; the Old Testament foreshadows the New Testament, the New Testament fulfills the Old Testament. The preparer of the way – Jesus’ cousin John the Baptist – is to be “the voice of one crying out in the wilderness” (he was literally in the physical wilderness). Symbolically, when we are not living in relationship with God we are “in the wilderness” – an emotional/psychological/spiritual wilderness…… As an aside, wilderness is still used as a literary device in literature to symbolize being in a fearful or unruly psychological state away from a well-ordered societal environment where we feel safe. Think of the Hansel and Gretel fairy tale.

Then, there is Mark 1:9-11: “In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. ¹⁰And just as he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove upon him. ¹¹And a voice came from the heavens, “You are my Son, the Beloved;^[h] with you I am well pleased.”

The River Jordan is where the Israelites had crossed in the Old Testament from slavery in Egypt and from wandering in the wilderness for 40 years for disobeying God to enter the promised land. In baptism, we are freed from slavery and from life in the wilderness (i.e., from our confused darkness wandering) to enter into the promised land.

Immediately upon Jesus’ baptism, the Gospel of Mark writes, “And the Spirit immediately drove him out into the wilderness. He was in the wilderness forty days, tested by Satan, and he was with the wild beasts, and the angels waited on him (Mark 1:12-13).”

Whenever we are provided God’s grace (as in baptism), Satan wishes to tempt us away from living in loving relationship with God. And, again there is the number 40. The Israelites had been sent into the wilderness (the untame place) for disobeying God, Satan tempted Jesus for 40 days. In biblical literature, a period of 40 (40 years, 40 days) is a period of purification and cleansing.

After Jesus’ 40 days in the wilderness, he began drawing people to God: “Now after John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee proclaiming the good news of God and saying, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.” (Mark 1:14-15). In subsequent passages, Jesus began healing people and driving out unclean spirits. In other words, drawing us to God and healing us.

Pondering religious imagination….

January 8, 2026

I was recently given Frank J. Cunningham’s Vesper Time: The Spiritual Practice of Growing Older. Early in the book, he mentions “The Catholic Imagination.”

I am intrigued by the phrase. I happened across the phrase once before and immediately recognized that yes, there is a “Catholic Imagination.”

When I first encountered the phrase “A/The Catholic imagination,” I recalled an experience circa 2011. In 2011, I was trying to discuss a matter with a couple of non-Catholics (they were both lovely, well-meaning people). We went in circles, got nowhere. They were trying one mental and verbal approach to exploring the matter at hand, I recognized that I was clearly approaching the subject very differently. At the time, I could recognize a difference in approaches, but I couldn’t articulate the contours of either approach. When I later “happened across” the phrase “The Catholic imagination,” I instantly recognized that my involvement in the above-mentioned discussion (2011) was attempting to frame the topic via a Catholic imagination while the other two parties were employing a secular approach. Even though I was a lapsed Catholic at the time, “The Catholic Imagination” had so thoroughly infused my thinking while growing up that it stayed with me even when I was away from church.

Google’s AI effectively synthesizes several credible-source descriptions of “The Catholic imagination”: “The Catholic imagination is a worldview seeing God’s presence in the physical world, viewing earthly life, objects, and experiences as channels of grace, rooted in the belief that Jesus’s humanity makes the sacred accessible through the material. It’s a sacramental perspective, finding deeper meaning and spiritual significance in everyday things, stories, and rituals, encompassing themes of sin, redemption, and ultimate hope through a framework of divine providence and the ‘complex of opposites’ (light/dark, good/evil).”

For those who live within – and/or were raised within – a particular faith tradition, do you recognize your tradition’s “style of imagination?” Do you see that “style of imagination” infusing how you see and interact with the people and events around you? Religious imagination truly exerts a powerful influence on how we live in the world – from how we interpret meaning within events, themes, etc. to how we communicate and interact with the people in our lives. It’s easy enough to know whether or not we bring explicitly-stated religious ideas into our daily life (“I believe that God is present in my life,” “I am religiously accountable for my behavior,” etc.). It’s another matter to recognize perhaps more implicitly-incorporated ideas – a ritualized pattern of looking at daily patterns in our lives or bringing a “complex of opposites” perspective into seeing the events in our lives that might not be shared by neighbors or co-workers (good/evil, light/dark, etc.).

Hmmm…… It might be interesting to undertake psychological studies contrasting people with a particular religious imagination to to people without such a perspective. For example, is there a distinct psychological roadmap to learning life’s “shades of gray” for individuals with a “complex of opposites” worldview? Maybe such studies have already been done?

Book Review: The Music of Silence

January 6, 2026

I somehow keep encountering Benedictine spirituality. The first monastery I ever visited was Westminster Abbey in Mission, B.C. [I was four and had just recently been baptized. My parents decided we would visit Westminster Abbey where we attended a Latin mass ( a lot to take in for a post-Vatican II four-year-old who was still new to attending mass….)]. In 2016, I joined St. Benedict parish in Seattle. Since 2016, I have read several books on contemplative spirituality written by Benedictines. I give people copies of The Tradition of Catholic Prayer from the Benedictine St. Meinrad Monastery. I am now enrolled in a Master’s in Theology at a Benedictine university (St. Martin’s University) ….And so it goes….

Most recently, I came upon – and ordered a copy of – The Music of Silence: Entering the Sacred Space of Monastic Experience. When the book arrived, I was both surprised and not surprised that the authors are O.S.B. – of the Order of St. Benedict.

This book is proving to be everything I hoped for. Goodreads (the Internet Movie Database – IMDB – of published books) describes this book simply: The Music of Silence is “[a] collection of meditations describes the sacred nature of the monastic chant, the qualities of faith, and the peace-inducing properties of silence and listening.”

A vibrant faith life must – by definition – include both an outward life of service and an inner stillness in which we encounter God’s presence. The Music of Silence is among the written music articulating an inner environment of nurturing a personally-enriching stillness and encountering God’s presence.

Much to my gleeful surprise, this book comes with a CD of Gregorian chant (yes, I still buy and listen to CDs….). While I have occasionally listened to Gregorian chant over the years, I am now finding a richer receptivity for such chant. Perhaps my local library has CDs of Gregorian chant…..

Christianity: “A Path”

January 1, 2026

In her book Centering Prayer and Inner Awakening, Cynthia Bourgeault tells a story about centering prayer guru Thomas Keating when he was the abbot of St. Joseph’s Abbey in Spenser, Massachusetts. “A few miles down the road from the abbey, a former Catholic retreat house had closed down and had been sold to a Buddhist group. When the facility reopened as the Insight Meditation Center….teaching the path of Vipassana…. suddenly the monks at St. Joseph’s began to notice an increase of people, almost inevitably young people, stopping by the monastery guest house asking for directions about how to get to the Insight Meditation Center! Dismayed but intrigued, Keating began to engage some of these young pilgrims in dialogue. What was it they were seeking at the Insight Meditation Center? To which the response nearly always came, in the vernacular of the Sixties, ‘A path, man! We’re seeking a Path!’ Discovering that the vast majority of these seekers had been raised as Christians, he asked the sixty-four-dollar question – ‘So, why don’t you search for a path within your own tradition?’ To which he received the genuinely astonished answer: ‘Christianity has a path?’ St. Joseph Monastery’s response was to develop the technique of Centering Prayer (which Keating then popularized when he was at Snowmass, Colorado) to help people in today’s modern context find Christianity’s long tradition of contemplative prayer.

It seems today – in the 2020’s – that there still seems to be a frequent lack of recognition that Christianity has “a path.”

What of that path? How do we get onto that “path?”

I tell some of my own journey to that path here. Having grown up Catholic and then having left for twenty years, I had a profound re-conversion experience in 2016. That re-conversion experience began when I attended a Friday evening mass for social reasons, vowing that “I wasn’t going to return to Catholicism” – a gift of God’s presence proved me wrong!

In the period following that Friday evening mass, I was graced with an unexpected period of contemplative prayer – I simply rested in God’s presence as I experienced God loving me. Emotional healing from a challenging period began as I reconnectws with God and church, God-via-church-and-prayer.

In the years since the autumn of 2016, I have slowly discovered Christianity’s “path.” Surrender to allowing God’s presence to work in our lives. “Love God and love your neighbor” (Matthew 22::36-40) (I often find it easier to love God “who is love” than to love sometimes-challenging people, while some people find it easier to “love the people we can see” than to love the God we can’t see). Accept that God’s will for us is “a narrow path” that’s hard to follow, but ultimately freeing. “Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God” (Matthew 19:24) [Jesus goes on to say that this task is impossible for humans alone, but that all things are possible in God} [This “passing through the eye of a needle is said to be a metaphor referring to a “narrow entrance” at Jerusalem’s gate whereby a camel would have to kneel at night to pass through the narrow passage when the city’s gate had been closed for the night for security.]. Participate in having the parts of ourselves that aren’t in alignment with God’s will for us slowly “cut away” (God is the principal actor in this “cutting away,” but we can participate in allowing this process to unfold and doing what we can). As we grow in all of these things, we learn of “It is no longer I, but God who lives in me” (Galatians 2:20). We start encountering the Catholic “both/and” of having a taste of “heaven on earth” (i.e., heaven later, but we get a taste of it now); In thinking about heaven, I tell people that “I need God now.” In living God’s will for us, there’s freedom, joy, peace among people.

God loves us. And, yes, Christianity has “a path.”