Day of Solemnity: Recognizing John the Baptist’s birth

Today we recognize the birth of John the Baptist.

John the Baptist was born six months before Jesus. While we don’t know their exact dates of birth, it makes sense chronologically that we celebrate John the Baptist’s birthday six months ahead of the day we celebrate Jesus’s birth.

This day of solemnity – June 24 – comes three days after the start of summer. The first day of summer is the longest day of the year, after which days begin to get shorter.

Likewise, we celebrate Jesus’s birthday – December 25 – four days after the darkest day of the year, when the darkest days of the year are beginning to get lighter. Metaphorically, Jesus is bringing light into the world.

Just as we recognize Jesus as bringing light into the world, we look at the current seasonal calendar and see another metaphor correlated to celebrating the birth of John the Baptist. Days are now getting shorter; we look to 3:30 in the fourth gospel: “He must become greater, I must become less.” In other words…..Just as John the Baptist recognized Jesus as greater than himself (“I am not worthy to untie his sandals”), we look at today’s days getting shorter as symbolically representing that we must reduce ourselves (we are less important) as we give Jesus a greater place in our lives.

Kim Burkhardt blogs at A Parish Catechist and The Books of the Ages.

* Royalty paid for use of image.

Book Review: Stages of Faith (spoiler – a useful read!)

I have found this book to be a tremendous value in my own faith journey specifically and in my overall psychological development generally.

When I returned to church in 2016 – after a 20-year hiatus – the pastor with whom I connected listened to my story about my experience with church and he made a comment about my “stage of faith.” He rather suggested that my “stage of faith” was younger than my chronological age of maturity. Ouch! But, okay, was he perhaps correct? I took an interest in his turn of phrase, “stage of faith.” I Googled the phrase, found my way to this book by academic-sociologist-theologian James Fowler (in later conversations, I found out that the pastor had read this book).

Fowler had interviewed hundreds of people – from young children to seniors – to hear about how their experience faith and a search for meaning within a western context. Fowler drew from these interviews and from existing theories of psychological development to profile six descriptive/normative stages of faith development. Most people, it turns out, grow to somewhere between stages three and five….. I looked for myself in this book; discovered – in re-reading parts of the book several times – that my “stage of faith” was pretty close to where the pastor had guessed I was at – I had gotten stuck in the transition between stages three and four (a common place to get developmentally detoured, according to James Fowler).

When I read this book, I had known for some time that I had been “stuck” in my effort to grow further in faith; I wasn’t sure how to get “unstuck.” This book provided tremendous value in this regard. Once I identified “where I was” (i.e., 3.5), I re-read the next stage – stage four – to get an idea of where to head next. Once I saw a roadmap of the direction to head in (without this book being tied to a particular denomination), this helped me to begin moving forward, thankfully (the particulars of moving forward are guided by my denomination, as are each of us).

In addition to finding faith assistance from this book, I found in this book that various aspects of my faith-mental-emotional “developmental stages” weren’t entirely lined up in one neat age-chronology phase. Life wasn’t “tidy.” This book helped me to grow and mature various aspects of my self-hood to get my “various aspects” closer to one chronological age. I come back to this book occasionally to monitor my ongoing progress…. On the whole, a worthwhile read that I often recommend to people I meet.

Since I read this book, I have also sought-out and found additional topic-relevant books for follow up. For example, Jane Regan’s book Toward an Adult Church is a worthwhile read.

Kim Burkhardt blogs at A Parish Catechist and The Books of the Ages.

Another “church as a field hospital” week….

I wrote recently about being drawn to Pope Francis’s idea that church is a “field hospital” for the needs of humanity (see previous post).

There are times when I feel this in my own life. This week, I again needed the “field hospital” services of church – life’s hard knocks taking their toll. This time, as sometimes is the case, it’s self-inflicted challenges for which I need an emotional “field hospital.”

It’s always uncomfortable when we create our own difficulties.

Coming out of these times, though, it truly is heartening when God heals our hearts and prepares us better for life. This DOES require that we let God work within us (free will). In recent years, I have observed the inner work of God re-arranging my inner life so as to be on a better footing in life. Healthier, more functional – with a more mature place in the world than I would arrive at on my own. Christ came “that we might have life, and have it more abundantly” (John 10:10).

Kim Burkhardt blogs at A Parish Catechist and The Books of the Ages.

Teresa of Avila (autobiography): book review, reflection

It must have been 2017 where I first heard of Teresa of Avila. Fr. Bryan Dolejsi mentioned her one weekday at St. Benedict parish (Seattle), calling her a “Doctor of the Church.” “What,” I wondered, “is a Doctor of the Church….and there is a woman recognized as a Doctor of the Church? I must find out who she is!” That led me to a Seattle Public Library copy of Mirabai Starr‘s English translation of the autobiography of this 16th century Spanish mystic.

Now, my own dog-eared and frequently-consulted copy of this book is on my bookshelf. Inside the front cover is a photograph of me with the translator, Mirabai Starr, at her speaking engagement at St. Mark’s Cathedral (Episcopal) in Seattle (yes, Mirabai graciously autographed my copy of the book).

Teresa of Avila’s autobiography – her life, her mystical, contemplative experience – has actively nourished my own prayer life. When I returned to church in 2016, it was a result of a “God moment” (including a broken ankle, long story) in which God gifted me an unanticipated and emotionally nourishing period of contemplative prayer. I didn’t have the vocabulary to talk about the inner state I was experiencing (now, I know to call that period of time “an encounter with God”); Teresa’s autobiography provided me with exquisite articulation about mystical prayer. Since finding and eagerly re-reading this book over time, I’ve heard people refer to the writings of Teresa and her protege (John of the Cross) as poetry-about-prayer. I don’t feel that a “poetry” description gives justice to their writing (accurate perhaps, but the description pales); I prefer to think of the writing of these two Carmelite saints as “the voice of lived experience.”

Kim Burkhardt blogs at A Parish Catechist and The Books of the Ages.

Feeling blue? Anxious? How do you pray?

For many of us, we first conceptualize prayer as mentally talking to God. Mentally speaking in sentences, much like we would talk to a person. Telling God what we want to say, submitting prayer requests (intercessions, our “wish list”), hoping for “an answer.”

Such prayer is certainly one way to initiate a prayer life.

There are many more ways to pray. Prayer is meant to be communication, a relationship. An analogy I heard – and like – compares prayer to a phone call. We wouldn’t just call a person we know, tell them what we want to say, then hang up as if communication were complete. Such phone calls wouldn’t help us sustain relationships with the people in our lives. That approach to prayer wouldn’t produce a full prayer life, either. Communication is relational. Prayer is relational.

God hungers to have a relationship with us – more than “one way phone calls” from us.

God hungers to be present in our lives, to transform our lives. God hungers to share love with us in a relational way in which we feel and experience God’s love for us. In order for this to happen, we need to participate in a two-way relationship with God. Prayer can be a truly interactive, relational activity in which we allow God to transform our lives. More than just a one-way phone call.

There are a myriad of ways pray. Several ways to pray include:

  • Attending church is prayer
  • Rote prayer, prayers of the liturgy: Lord’s Prayer, etc.
  • Psalms (they are always sung!)
  • Lectio Divina (reading faith books reflectively to take in the book’s meaning prayerfully)
  • Talking to God the way we would talk to a person
  • Contemplative Prayer (resting in God’s presence – sitting with God)

Personally, contemplative prayer is the type of prayer I find most meaningful – relationship-building. I have largely given up any “human language” in prayer (except for when I specifically do intercessory prayer); rather, my prayer life mostly consists of “resting in God’s presence.” I’m fortunate – I responded in 2016 to a “nudging of the Holy Spirit” in which I was gifted with a sustained period of feeling God’s presence in prayer. It was a life-transforming period of time; I found my way to Contemplative Outreach Northwest and now I talk to people about the power of God our lives. At present, my morning prayer consists of reflecting on the Anastasis icon above – an iconographic representation of the Harrowing of Hell; the Harrowing of Hell was Christ’s descent into Hell (between his death and resurrection) to free Adam and Eve from the result of The Fall. This particular version of Anastastis iconography is located in the chapel at St. Andrew’s Episcopal parish in Seattle, Washington. I find Anastasis to be a powerful depiction of God’s desire to free us, to transform us. God wants us to experience God’s love for us.

If prayer is unfamiliar to you or “less than what you’d like it to be,” consider taking on “prayer homework.” Pray twice per day for five minutes each time. Try out the various types of prayer listed above to find a style of prayer that you find to be of value. If you’d like to learn more about several types of prayer, my favorite book describing multiple types of prayer can be found here.

“Be still and know that I am God.”   Psalm 46:10

Kim Burkhardt’s blog can be found at A Parish Catechist.