God – Spiritual accompaniment

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.

Moses and Religious Symbolism

March 7, 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, and the Acts of the Apostles.

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.

Prayers of Praise and Thanksgiving

January 11, 2026

My prayer life in recent years began with a gifted period of contemplative prayer (as told here). Hands-down, my two favorite pray-ers are the contemplative mystics Teresa of Avila and John of the Cross (I still recall being at daily mass one day when Fr. Bryan Dolejsi mentioned Teresa of Avila being a Doctor of the Church. “What?” I wanted to know, “What is a Doctor of the Church and who is Teresa of Avila?” Those questions sent me off on a follow-up inquiry for which I am grateful). I experience joy within contemplative prayer and a movement toward becoming more of the person that God wants me to be.

An additional form of prayer recently entered my daily routine when I enrolled in theological studies. We were told to start daily participation in the morning and evening prayers of Liturgy of the Hours (see my previous post about this daily set of prayers that are prayed collectively by the Universal Church).

I am still finding my way into being consistently prayerful within the set daily structure of Liturgy of the Hours. In my previous post about Liturgy of the Hours, I mentioned being told that Liturgy of the Hours is meant to be a tool for prayer than a a straight jacket dictating how we are to pray (hmm…. I thrive prayerfully within a structured mass, why I am having to find my way within the structured Liturgy of the Hours?). I discussed this recently with a priest I see once a month – he told me to find one phrase in each day’s Liturgy of the Hours that I can grab onto and basically do Lectio Divina with that one phrase……

I recently took note that Liturgy of the Hours (also called “Divine Office”) starts with us asking God to come to our assistance – followed by the Glory Be and an Alelluiah.

Hmmm….. Within contemplative prayer, I experientially appreciate God’s loving presence and appreciate that God is acting to bring about positive change within me. Basically, adoration. A relational experience and receiving. I a starting to see a new opportunity within Liturgy of the Hours – learning a new way of appreciating God via the Glory Be and an Alelluiah. Contemplative adoration is a relationship, while the Glory Be and an Alelluiah are about praising God for God’s own sake. (Life’s not “all about us!!!”). Contemplative prayer and Liturgy of the Hours are complimentary – receiving in one, praising God for God’s own sake in the other. We hear at mass that God has no need of our praise, but that our praise is itself our gift to God.

There a good many ways to praise God. There are songs of praise, a thank you during the day, and – most importantly – thanking God by being of useful service to God’s children. Living a life of faith becomes living a life of gratitude. Alleluiah!

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.”

Salvation history, the universe

September 5, 2025

I have lately been pondering how the grand scope of the universe – the many number of galaxies, etc. – factors into what God pays attention to.

When we think of God – with the finite perspective of people – we tend to think of God in terms of God’s relationship with us humans. About humanity’s “salvation history.” We humans are created in God’s image – we are loved by God so much that God gave his only son for our salvation. We humans are infinitely loved by God.

For much of Judeo-Christian history, humanity’s understanding of the universe – and the size of the universe – was much smaller than the understanding we have now. It was much simpler, in a sense, to think of God solely in terms of God’s relationship to our salvation history.

We now know so much more about the grandeur of the size of the universe.

To think of us now in terms of being made in God’s image and for us to be God’s children takes on a perspective of a very different scale.

God is infinite enough to love us and “know us by name” and “know the number of hairs on our head” AND simultaneously be engaged in the astro-physics/geology of a VERY LARGE universe. Wow. We now receive photos of galaxies far beyond anything people knew in previous centuries. Amazing. And, this makes God even more amazing to us – that God can “know the number of hairs on our head” and simultaneously know the full geographic scope of all the galaxies that exist. Does God watch in wonder at the colors and contours of various galaxies?

Yet, we with our human limitations struggle with the comparatively finite question of how to do a better job of “love God and love our neighbor.” Back to earth….. What can we do today to be good to our families, friends, neighbors?

Inspiring other’s faith by talking about our own brokenness

June 12, 2025

Stained glass windows at Assumption Church, Bellingham

I was struck by a recent article by Seattle Bishop Frank Schuster published in Northwest Catholic. In that article, Bishop Schuster (a friendly guy!) quotes both the famed Archbishop Fulton Sheen and poet-and-opium-addict Francis Thompson. Francis Thompson (who is new to me!) wrote poetic ideas such as “I fled [God], down the nights and down the days; I fled Him, down the arches of the years, I fled Him down the labyrinthine ways of my own mind; and in the midst of tears, I hid from Him and under running laughter.”

In our current times – when the U.S. surgeon general is talking about the dangers and health consequences of an “epidemic of loneliness,” I rather think we would do well to talk to other from a place of genuineness – including talking more often and more frankly about our own brokenness.

When we really talk about our human brokenness, we connect meaningfully with other people. Less isolation. Further, really talking about our human brokenness somehow allows us to see and connect with meaningful with the love and spiritual nourishment that God offers to us. It is, after all, in our brokenness that we need God.

When we interact with people, we are typically encouraged to “put our best foot forward.” We talk about how to achieve more, succeed more. We post photos of our great moments on social media. Yet, many people are also lonely, socially isolated. Too often, people are not connecting with people in faith communities or finding spiritual nourishment. Part of the solution to our woes, I think, is to really express ourselves – including our brokenness. In talking about our brokenness, we somehow become more receptive to the loving grace offered to us by God.

Try talking about your brokenness. Listen for God’s loving grace.

Kim Burkhardt blogs at A Parish Catechis t. If you are a new visitor, it would be great to have you subscribe to follow this blog (it’s free – thank you!). If you know someone who would like this blog, please share it with them and invite them to subscribe (thank you!)

List: How many ways to pray (types of prayer)?

May 10, 2025

variety of prayer options available within Catholicism.

Catholic prayer is a vibrant and varied tradition, bringing to fullness a life-giving relationship between us and God. Jesus came “that we might have life, and have it more abundantly” (John 10:10). “…prayer is not merely an exchange of words, but it engages the whole person in a relationship with God the Father, through the Son, and in the Holy Spirit” (U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops, USCCB).

How many ways are there to pray?

The essence of prayer is communication, a relationship with God, a being-with or being-in-the-presence-of. When we find a relationship with God – an interactive, two-way interaction rather than a one-way monologue (we wouldn’t relate to the people in our lives exclusively via uni-directional monologues!) – there comes a discovery that God is present with us in prayer.

A friend said to me, “prayer is a very personal communion with God that is meant to be personal, and unique to you….People are… very different in their personal experience in prayer, and that in itself is a beautiful thing.”

Just as we have many differing relationships with the various people in our lives – and a variety of ways that we communicate with the people in our lives – there are any number of ways of communicating with God. A prayer style that works for one person may be very different than what works for the next person. Here are several approaches to prayer:

Rote prayer (formal, memorized prayers – these are often provided to us by our houses of worship). Prayers such as the Lord’s Prayer are full of meaning and help us learn to pray. Such prayers give us ready prayer content that we can easily put to use.
Psalms. The Book of Psalms – which were meant to be sung – are summarized by Wikipedia thus: the Book of Psalms are “an anthology of Hebrew religious hymns…including hymns or songs of praise, communal and individual laments, royal psalms, imprecation, and individual thanksgivings. The book also includes psalms of communal thanksgiving, wisdom, pilgrimage, and other categories.”
“Talking to God.” Our spontaneous thoughts and words directed to God. God wants to have a relationship with us; relationships are two-way, be open to feeling God’s presence in response.
Contemplative Prayer. Resting reflectively in prayer, without a need for words or any human language. Contemplative prayer can – and for some people, does – include a sense of God’s presence in prayer. For more information about contemplative prayer, visit Contemplative Outreach.
Praying the Rosary. The rosary is a reflective way of praying a set of rote prayers with a formulaic set of Catholic prayer beads (focusing time on specified topics). Instructions for praying the rosary is available here.
Lectio Divina. Lectio Divina “describes a way of reading the Scriptures whereby we gradually let go of our own agenda and open ourselves to what God wants to say to us” (this particular description provided by the Carmelites).
Singing at church. “Those who sing pray twice” (a popular phrase in churches).
Intercessory prayer. Intercessory prayer that we pray for other people. We come to God with the challenges of those who are in need of support.

My favorite Catholic pray-ers:

Teresa of Avila, (16th-century mystic, Doctor of the Church, Carmelite nun, reformer of the Carmelite religious order, Carmelite saint)
John of the Cross (16th-century mystic, Doctor of the Church, Carmelite monk and priest, co-reformer of the Carmelite religious order, Carmelite saint)
Edith Stein, Carmelite nun, Carmelite saint
Fr. Thomas Keating, founder of Contemplative Outreach

Books for further reading:

Clinging: The Experience of Prayer (Emilie Griffin)

The Tradition of Catholic Prayer (The Monks of Meinrad Monastery)

Kim Burkhardt blogs at A Parish Catechis t (and is a member of the Association of Catholic Publishers). Blogging is sustainable via blog readership (i.e. readers/subscribers). If you are a new visitor, it would be great to have you subscribe to follow this blog (thank you!). If you know someone who would like this blog, please share it with them and invite them to subscribe (thank you!).

Living and experiencing faith: it really is about love

April 30, 2025

I grew up in pews every Sunday, four years in parochial school. I believed in God, believed in having a relationship with God, felt a deep, meaningful connection to liturgical ritual (I was the type of child who would notice how much the sanctuary candles had burned down each week and would notice when the shortened candles would be replaced with new candles)….. I later left the pews in my mid-twenties, in part because I couldn’t intellectually accept everything in the Nicene Creed (specifically, the parts that I would later call “biologically implausibilities” – a virgin birth, the ascension….).

Later, a profound reconversion brought me back to the pews (I tell that story here ). It was the type of experience that makes this explanation palpable:

“The Greek Fathers liken man’s encounter with God to the experience of someone walking over the mountains in the mist: he takes a step forward and suddenly finds that he is on the edge of a precipice, with no sold ground beneath his foot but only a bottomless abyss.” Quote: The Orthodox Way (Revised Edition, page 13), Bishop Kallistos Ware

In my reconversion experience and in the time that followed, I deeply experienced that God loves me. I found tremendous value in reading Teresa of Avila’s autobiography and the writings of John of the Cross who “schematized the steps of mystical ascent—a self-communion that in quietude leads the individual from the inharmonious distractions of the world to the sublime peace of reunion between the soul and God.”

Experiencing that God loves us is life-changing. I came to recognize that “we can’t think our way to God.”

Wondering what faith is meant to be about? Whether your faith is on track? Wondering how to engage more deeply in faith?

Love really is the measure what faith is all about. Matthew 22: 34-40: “The greatest commandments are…love the Lord your God….and….love your neighbor as you love yourself.”

Having a loving interactive prayer relationship with God is absolutely part of what makes faith meaningful. An active prayer life is what animates an active faith. “There can be no faith without prayer” and “prayer is the respiration of faith” are quotes I’ve come across that make sense.

In my experience, an interactive prayer life is what subsequently animates faith made visible via “love the Lord your God…and…love your neighbor.”

Wondering about how to have an active prayer life?

The apostles asked, “Lord, teach us to pray.” Most of us aren’t born knowing how to pray. Thus, the apostle’s question resulted in them being given The Lord’s Prayer.

Rather than prayer being an activity, prayer is a relationship. There’s a faith song with a line “There’s a hunger in our hearts….” Yes, we do live with a hunger. A longing for a relationship with the divine.

There’s an explanation about prayer being a relationship that may be attributed to Fr. Mike Schmidt (i.e., “Bible in a year” podcast). The explanation goes something like this: Prayer is a two-way communication, like a phone call. You wouldn’t call someone, tell them something, then hang up without giving the other person an opportunity to respond. Prayer should be the same way. When we pray, it should be a two-way communication in which we communicate to God and allow God to be tangibly present to us in response.

So, how can we pray? Really, this question asks “how can we have a relationship with God?” Ultimately, there are as many ways to pray are there are people. A few examples of approaches to prayer:

Lectio Divina: Reflectfully reading and praying upon scripture and additional faith reading.
Contemplative prayer: simply being quiet in God’s presence. For more about this style of “Be still and know that I am God” prayer, check out the Contemplative Outreach network.
Attending church. Church services are a form of communal prayer.
Rote prayers (check out examples here of the prayers recited at church).

Beyond prayer – a place where we experience loving God and being loved by God – there is then loving our neighbor. For those of us who are “saints in training” rather than “saints already,” loving our neighbor is learned rather than an auto-pilot activity.

There are endless ways to love the people in our lives. There’s a phrase that may have come from Presbyterians: “Love your neighbor means everybody.” We don’t get to pick and choose who we are to love. We are to love everybody. For many of us, that’s a tall order.

How do we “love everybody?” If you’re like me, you’re not there yet. For starters, loving everybody means we can’t hate anybody. We need to become ever conscious of “how am I going to treat everyone I encounter with love and dignity?” How we achieve that varies depending on the context. “Whatsoever you do for the least of my fellows” – we take care of people who need our assistance. We treat everyone with dignity. We stand tall in being good to the people in our daily lives. There are endless ways to be good to everybody we encounter. For most of us, there are plenty of ways to continually improve at this – a good way to focus on growing in faithfulness.

Book Review: Preaching the Just Word (Burghardt)

January 21, 2025

I recently stumbled upon this book, Preaching the Just Word by Walter J. Burghardt, S.J. (i.e., a Jesuit). I took an immediate interest in the book because of the author’s name. My last name is Burkhardt. I found out a couple years ago that my paternal grandfather was actually born Burghardt, he started spelling his name with a K instead of G in high school or in his early 20’s – possibly to differentiate himself from his father and/or siblings because there had been multiple levels of “falling out” within the family…. So when I found this book and learned that there had been a prominent theologian named Burghardt (not a common name!), I hoped that I might be distantly related to the author! As it turns out, Walter Burghardt’s parents came to the New York area directly from Poland or Austria in the early 1900’s, whereas my Burghardt relatives moved from Germany to a German enclave in Russia’s Volga River region in the late 1700’s before migrating to the U.S.’s midwest farming region…. So, any unlikely biological connection between me and this book’s author would be very remote. Yet, I decided to read this book.

I am finding this book to be a worthwhile read already, just a few pages in. I’ve always been attracted to the inner mystical aspects of faith (my story is told here). In recent years, I’ve pondered how to attract people to exploring the inner aspects of faith (such as contemplative prayer) in an era that encourages people to live a frenetically outer life and ignore or avoid inward reflection (i.e., “who wants to go inward when this ultimately requires us work through the inner emotional challenges that are an inherent to being human?”). An inner, prayerful relationship with God is necessary to fully and vibrantly being a person of faith – and joyous (“a peace that passeth all understanding!”). Yet, Walter J. Burghardt rightly points out at the beginning of this book that a solely inward faith is wrongly individualistic (a modern-day form of selfishness). A “faith” that is solely focused on a personal relationship with God isn’t fully faith – this would merely be naval-gazing.

Burghardt explains that the ultimate point of the Christian life on earth is to love one another as we love ourselves. We are called to take care of one another in a radically self-sacrificing manner. We are called to live as part of an interwoven web of caring, socially connected to one another.

There’s a balance for each of us to be a person of faith: a joy-filled inner prayer life in which God nurtures a personal relationship with us combined with the necessary and just manifestations of this inward prayerful relationship: we become the people God intends us to be and we radically love and serve the people around us.