While neither my engagement nor my basketball scholarship lasted, my commitment to the church did. I enjoyed the litany of the Latin mass and the rich, elaborate traditions the Catholic Church had evolved over the centuries. I went to confession and mass regularly, but I still had questions, some spiritual, others practical-like how was I 
going to be in church every Sunday if I was climbing? 

     Out in the mountains, high on a summit ridge or deep in a cathedral of conifers, I often wondered about the significance of that human creation, the church. It didn't seem to me to take a building, or even a dogma, to make someone a believer; all you had to do was open your eyes, your ears, your heart. In the mountains, the "church" is all around you. 

     And gradually, over the years, my faith has deepened and broadened. You cannot travel the world and experience new customs and religions, as I have been privileged to do, without eventually concluding that there is no single, "true" path to God. There are as many paths as there are searchers for the way, and part of the essence of being a spiritual being lies in treating other travelers on that road as you would have them treat you-with an open mind and a compassionate heart. These days, all I know is that the more I explore the world and its faiths, the less anxious and the more humble I become.

Copyright (c) 2001 by Jim Whittaker.  All rights reserved. Reproduced with permission from Jim Whittaker.