spirituality – Spiritual accompaniment

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.

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 ($$).

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?

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.”

Book Review: An Immigration of Theology

October 20, 2025

Book Cover: An Immigration of Theology — Book: An Immigration of Theology

I recently came upon An Immigration of Theology by Fr. Simon Kim and am intrigued with what the author has done with this book.

Goodreads summarizes this book, in part, with the following: “The theological reflections of Virgilio Elizondo and Gustavo Gutiérrez are examples of the ecclesial fruitfulness of the second half of the twentieth century. Following the directives of Pope John XXIII and the Second Vatican Council, [they] present the Gospel message in relevant terms to their own people…. Inspired by this moment in Church history, while at the same time recognizing the plight of their people….. [they] discovered a new way of doing theology by asking a specific set of questions based on their local context. By investigating where God is present in [their local context], both theologians have uncovered a hermeneutical lens in rereading Scripture and deepening our understanding of ecclesial tradition…. a theological method that takes seriously the contextual circumstances of their locale. By utilizing the common loci theologici of Scripture and tradition in conjunction with context and their own experience, [they] illustrate…. how every group must embrace their own unique theological reflection.”

I find this interesting – there seems to be the option in this book of stating that we must make theological concepts relevant to our own circumstances while also stating that theological principles are universal. What I am hoping to read in this book – now that I have it sitting on my coffee table – is that theological principles are universal in principle and also local in adaptation.

Prayer: genuine engagement

August 1, 2025

On December 24, 2017, a pastor was driving me home from an evening Christmas Eve service. As we were winding through snowy roads, I was telling him about the angst I was feeling about a personal problem that was “eating up my insides” at the time. He asked if I had prayed about the matter. “No,” I replied, “I haven’t prayed about this. I have been having such a positive prayer relationship with God for the last year – I don’t want to ruin this positive prayer relationship by bringing my problems to God.” I can still feel this heavy weight of the subsequent silence in the car as the pastor’s face puckered. Finally – after a moment that lasted too long – he sternly replied, “You have to bring EVERYTHING to God.”

I got the point.

We are to bring our whole selves to God. Not just the parts we want to bring to prayer. There’s no point packaging ourselves – or our situations – to present to God as we would wish. Do we really think God doesn’t know the real dirt?

God doesn’t want to deal with any superficialities that we might “sugar coat” in prayer. Prayer becomes meaningful when we get real. God loves us, wants to have a real, meaningful relationship with us.

Prayer is also a long-haul relationship. Prayer doesn’t become meaningful when we pray as an equivalent to 30 second chats held in a busy hallway. Prayer becomes real when we make real and continuing time to be meaningfully present with God. The shape and form of being “meaningfully present” in prayer is going to be different for each of us. A faith person who I admire mentioned to me several years ago (after the Christmas Eve car ride mentioned above) that everyone one of us is going to have a different prayer relationship with God because of the different nature of who each of us is…. What matters for each of us is that we commit sustained, ongoing time to building personal “prayer”being present” time with God. The fruits of that prayer become clear and substantive when we continue such sustained, meaningful time in prayer.

Wondering about new ways to pray? Check out a ways-to-pray list in one of my previous blog posts.

Kim Burkhardt blogs about faith at A Parish Catechis t. 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 ($$).

Prayer: “Wordless sighs of the heart”

July 28, 2025

When I read The Tradition of Catholic Prayer from the Benedictine monks of Saint Meinrad Monastery, one of the types of prayer they mention is “wordless sighs of the heart.”

I am drawn to this phrase – I find prayer to be most meaningful when it is heartfelt. How about you?

,,,,,It’s been said, “There can be no faith life without prayer.” It’s also said that we cannot pray and continue sinning; when we really engage in prayer, we find that we have to allow God to change us for the better. Personally, I experience in prayer that God loves us!

True prayer goes beyond mere statements or superficial monologues directed in God’s direction. True prayer is dialogue, meaningful communication, presence. A “wordless sigh of the heart,” for example, is us opening ourselves bare before God.

How often does human prayer involve allowing our innermost selves to be fully transparent before God? Such vulnerability is a real interaction. While God certainly knows our hearts – God made us and knows us – it’s also true that we have free will. God doesn’t force us to into relationship; it’s up to us whether we are willing to be fully present before God.

When we aren’t in active relationship with God, the Holy Spirit occasionally knocks on our heart’s door; it’s up to us whether we respond to such promptings. We can also open our heart’s door to God by taking the initiative ourselves to communicate – God will show up when invited in. Sometimes, we feel God’s presence in prayer (I have!); other times, God may work “under the surface” in ways that we don’t observe; God working to change us “under our radar” is what John of the Cross wrote about in his book Dark Night of the Soul (“Dark Night” being a period of inner transition that isn’t fully transparent to us, rather than necessarily being a depressive period!).

There are many forms of prayer in which we have an active relationship with God. Contemplative prayer (for example, visit the network of Contemplative Outreach) is one way, being engaged while at church is another way – as are meditative prayers such as praying the rosary, talking to God, heartfelt intercessions, prayers of praise (including music)……… What makes prayer meaningful is that we pray in a way that makes it relational. There are as many ways to pray as there are people!

Interested in learning more about prayer? Check out A Parish Catechist’s previous blog post, “List: ways to pray.“

The Hermitage Within (an important location!)

June 22, 2025

Book and Topic: The Hermitage Within — The Hermitage Within

I was looking up a url link to another book I am currently reading to prepare a book review; while looking up that other book, I happily came across the book The Hermitage Within on Liturgical Press’s website (I read a lot of books by Liturgical Press – they have great books!).

I wish I had thought of this phrase “The Hermitage Within” and had chosen this title as the name for my blog. This phrase gets to the heart of what I want to convey in this blog….

Liturgical Press summarizes this book with articulation I’ve been seeking to describe about people’s inner experience: “Not everyone can, or should, live as a hermit. Yet all Christians need an inner hermitage, a place apart where we come face-to-face with our true selves, and listen to the still small voice of God. It is a place of silence, of fear and fascination, of anguish and grace. The writer of this profound yet simple volume encourages us to find our own inner hermitage—a place of calm and contemplation, apart from the demands of the modern world, a place so silent that we can hear God. The desert, the mountain, and the temple provide the focus of the anonymous author’s reflections. He meditates on the wilderness experiences of such biblical persons as Jesus, John the Baptist, and Mary Magdalen. He considers the place held in the Christian story by Mount Sinai, the Mount of Olives, and Calvary. He ponders the idea of temples, using such images as our inner temple and Christ the temple, the foundation of the Church.”

I encourage everyone to connect with and cultivate regular time spent in your inner hermitage – such time can and should be nourishing. Western culture largely encourages us to be outwardly focused….. Sometimes it can be tempting to avoid the challenges of encountering the difficult aspects of our inner experience. Yet we must encounter these difficult aspects of our own inner experience, wrestle with these aspects of our experience, and surrender this to God’s healing grace. Further, there is much richness available to us within our own inner hermitage. It is in our own inner hermitage that we experience both the essence of our own self and a relationship with the divine. Yes, our own inner hermitage is an important place where we can “allow God in” so God can foster God’s healing grace in our lives.

Daily time spent alone in our own inner hermitage is important for encountering and cultivating those aspects of our life experience that can only be experienced by going inward. Going inward is an opportunity to experience rich vibrancy. For more of my reflections on our inner hermitage, visit my previous post Geography of 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!).

Book Review: Gerald May’s The Dark Night of the Soul

May 6, 2024

Gerald May's book: The Dark Night of the Soul

Teresa of Avila and her protege John of the Cross – two 16th-century Spaniards – are my favorite mystics and two of my favorite faith writers. When I began reading their books in 2017 or 2018, they articulated my own (more modest!) experience with contemplative prayer.

Since then, I have tried to explain to people that John of the Cross’s book Dark Night of the Soul is not about tribulations or depression. It’s not.

More recently, I came upon Gerald May’s book of the same title. Gerald May is a physician, psychiatrist, and writer of faith books). Gerald May, in his book, accessibly explains John of the Cross’s ideas in today’s language. I am grateful that he makes John of the Cross’s ideas more understandable to people than I have been able to present.

Treading into the Spiritual Depths: The (not depressing!) Dark Night of the Soul

In his book Dark Night of the Soul, John of the Cross writes about how the sometimes unviewable-to-us aspects of our inner faith journey are part of where God works within us to transform us (rather than this title being about a depressive view on things!). Attentiveness to our inner journey can allow us some small glimpse of when this (at least somewhat) unviewable aspect of our spiritual growth is being wrought within us – particularly if we have an active relationship with God in prayer.

Gerald May’s book of the same title speaks to this idea about “The Dark Night of the Soul”: “May emphasizes that the dark night is not necessarily a time of suffering and near despair, but a time of deep transition, a search for new orientation when things are clouded and full of mystery. The dark gives depth, dimension and fullness to the spiritual life.”

While John of the Cross’s book Dark Night of the Soul is not about suffering, modern day writer Gerald May does touch on the fact of suffering from a useful perspective on page nine of his book Dark Night of the Soul . His is a perspective that occurred to me in some fashion several years ago: “….suffering does not result from some divine purgation….Instead, suffering arises from the simple circumstances of life itself.”

Teresa of Avila and John of the Cross’s books are very worth reading. Gerald May’s book is also worth reading.

Kim Burkhardt blogs at A Parish Catechist and The Books of the Ages (and a member of the Association of Catholic Publishers). If you are a new visitor, it would be great to have you follow this blog (thank you!). If you know someone who would like this blog, please share it with them (thank you!). You can also support this blog by clicking here when you are going to shop on Amazon (that lands A Parish Catechist a commission on Amazon sales).

Faith Reading challenge: The Brothers Karamazov

March 25, 2024

I took a literature class in college in which we read Dostoevsky’s The Brothers Karamazov.

I attended a state university and we read The Brothers Karamazov as secular literature. While we read the book as secular literature, I do remember our instructor posing a question about a particular point for one of the books’ characters. I found myself responding as seeing the character as analagous to a friend of mine who was serving as a spiritual guide for me at the time. My instructor and classmates found this odd and laughed as such. It was an awkward moment.

Since then, I have periodically heard reference to “The Brothers K” as being a book – in part – about faith. Goodreads (an online book portal) says of the book, “Through the gripping events of their story, Dostoevsky portrays the whole of Russian life, is social and spiritual striving, in what was both the golden age and a tragic turning point in Russian culture.”

Because I have repeatedly heard of the book as having spirituality dimensions, I am planning to read “The Brothers K” again, after I finish reading another book (a long book that I’m reading rather slowly). This time, I will read “The Brothers K” through the lens of spirituality. I invite each of you to join me in reading the book to consider its’ faith dimensions; we can then discuss the faith ideas in book.

Put May 1 on your calendar as the date to start reading The Brothers Karamazov through the lens of faith. I will post dates to begin discussing the book.