Bishop Beckman’s spiritual journey takes many trails

Diocese of Knoxville shepherd adopts new moniker: ‘Bishop of the Mountains’

By Jim Wogan

Shortly after he was appointed as the fourth bishop of Knoxville, Bishop Mark Beckman adopted a new nickname. The “Bishop of the Mountains” wasn’t his idea, but he liked the sound of it, and he has become completely comfortable using it.

The Church recommends he be referred to as His Excellency, Most Reverend, and perhaps rather archaically as the Pontiff of Knoxville, but Bishop Beckman’s temperament appears less formal. For him, “Bishop of the Mountains” is perfect.

Growing up in Lawrenceburg, Tenn., young Mark Beckman found a special connection with the outdoors. It was hard to avoid. Lawrence County is remote and rural. With less than 50,000 residents, it’s not hard to find quiet space within its forests, on its hills, and along its creeks and rivers. His appreciation for nature was formed there in his childhood. It grew into something bigger and more profound after he became a priest in 1990.

“It happened in the spring of 1992. It was Holy Week, and I was working full-time at Father Ryan High School,” Bishop Beckman said. “I needed to get away to get some quiet time, so I think it was the morning of Good Friday I went over to a place called Radnor Lake, which is a state natural area in Nashville. I walked onto the trail, and the April wildflowers were carpeting the forest floor, and I was in tears. I had never seen such beauty in my life.

“Even though I grew up in the woods, I walked the path and there was such peace, and it was so beautiful, and I felt closeness with the Lord. I thought, He created all this, and I am right here in it. That was the day I got hooked on (hiking).”

Paul Davis remembers the formation of Mark Beckman as a priest and as a hiker. Mr. Davis is now the president of Father Ryan High School in Nashville.

In the late 1980s, Mr. Davis was a teacher at Father Ryan, and Bishop Beckman, by then a deacon, also taught there. A friendship developed, and over the next few years Father Beckman and another Nashville priest, Father Joe McMahon, were invited to Davis family gatherings, where they both met Bobby Davis—Paul’s dad—and another man, Neil Divine, one of Bobby’s camping buddies.

“They took me on my first backpacking trip to the Great Smoky Mountains National Park,” Bishop Beckman remembers. “We went to Abrams Creek. I brought all my new gear, and we spent two or three nights there. And I fell in love with backpacking. It’s hard work to be immersed in the wilderness overnight, the sense of community and camaraderie that you have. …”

While Bobby Davis was experienced at this kind of thing, it was Bishop Beckman’s first serious overnight adventure into the woods.

“My dad’s camping was a little unorthodox. He’d bring iron skillets and cans of sausages and then pull out a hunting knife to eat them. Father Beckman, I think, pushed him to kind of modernize their camping techniques,” Paul Davis remembered fondly. “They helped each other. My dad found peace in the outdoors, and he loved his relationship with the priests around the diocese, especially Father Beckman and Father McMahon.”

Bobby Davis passed away in 2019.

“My dad was kind of a quiet guy,” Paul Davis said. “I think the peace and quiet of nature allowed him to kind of refresh. I think he found peace in God’s creation, and I think that Father Beckman has found that as well. When I am hiking that’s what I feel. After a stressful day I look forward to getting out on a trail and I think that’s the gift (my dad) gave us, to take the time to be silent and to understand that these opportunities are gifts from God.”

The spark lit by Bobby Davis and others led Bishop Beckman to expand his horizons. He hiked the Grand Tetons in Wyoming and systematically began plotting other adventurous trips out west. He also began to consider how he could use his passion for the outdoors to help others find God.

“The first time I did a big hike, we went to Roan Mountain, high in the Appalachians,” said Barney Shulte. “Father Mark was the pastor at St. Matthew (in Franklin), and he wanted to take a group of men on a spiritual hike into the Smokies. He picked Roan Mountain, and there is a beautiful area called ‘the balds.’ You are up on the border of North Carolina and Tennessee, and it’s just beautiful.”

Walking on trails some 6,000 feet above sea level was a true test for the seven men who accompanied Bishop Beckman.

“We spent the night on a mountaintop in tents and then got back to the cabins on the third night,” the bishop said. “We prayed together. We did faith-sharing together. We celebrated the Eucharist together. We did morning and evening prayers together.”

Mr. Shulte said the excursion helped him better understand his Catholic faith.

“On the trip, he introduced us to the morning and evening prayers,” Mr. Shulte said. “I didn’t know (they) even existed. I had been a Catholic all my life, and at that point I didn’t know. He wanted us to do (prayers) in the morning before we started hiking and of course in the evening before we went to bed.”

That was in 2012, before the Camino.

The Camino de Santiago is a pilgrimage route—a vast network of hiking paths that cross France, Spain, and Portugal and eventually converge on the city of Santiago de Compostela in northwestern Spain, and the Cathedral of St. James. The Camino, also known as “The Way of St. James,” has been calling pilgrims since the 10th century and was the subject of a 2010 movie called “The Way,” starring Martin Sheen and his son, Emilio Estevez.

Two years after the trip to Roan Mountain, Bishop Beckman fulfilled a dream to hike the Camino. He didn’t want to go alone. Mr. Shulte and fellow St. Matthew parishioner Jim Bauchiero went with him.

“I saw the film ‘The Way’ with Martin Sheen and Emilio Estevez, and I was deeply moved by it, and I thought, gosh, I feel like I am being called to do this, but my practical side kicked in, and I thought, when am I going to get enough time? A couple of years later, two men invited me to go with them, and I said that answers who was going to go with me. I then asked the bishop if I could go, and he said yes … ‘be careful of blisters,’” Bishop Beckman said.

Blisters would be a serious concern. The path Bishop Beckman and his friends selected was the Camino Frances, which starts in St. Jean Pied de Port, France, and terminates 800 kilometers (500 miles) later in the city of Santiago de Compostela. It takes about five weeks to complete.

“We averaged about 15 miles a day carrying everything thing we owned on our backs,” said Mr.  Bauchiero. “It tests your spirituality; it tests your mind; and it tests your physical abilities. It was a challenge.

“I shouldn’t say ‘test’ when I say spirituality because everyone is going to have their own spiritual Camino, and it’s going to be very individual for everyone. For me, who had not been a huge people person, it changed me forever. I really felt the love of the Lord for me and the love of the Lord for other people … in an incredible way that really changed my life.”

One of Bishop Beckman’s goals on the Camino, according to his hiking companions, was to not draw attention to the fact that he was a Catholic priest. His goal was to travel as a pilgrim. But during multiple interactions with people on the pilgrimage, his cover was blown.

“People kind of always figured out Father Mark was a priest,” Mr. Shulte said. “We didn’t broadcast that as we walked, but people always seemed to figure that out. There is an aura there or something that comes across. People are always drawn to talk to him and get insights from him.”

Later in the journey, the Camino companions were joined by four other friends—Art Gonzalez, Joe Pouliot, Simon Riley, and Mr. Bauchiero’s wife, Nanci. And they all walked together for the final days until the group arrived at the Cathedral of St. James, believed to be the burial site of St. James the Great, one of the Twelve Apostles.

“Father Mark is the most Christ-like person we know and what he did on the Camino is exactly what Christ did when he was journeying in Galilee,” Mrs. Bauchiero said.

“(Jesus) would spend time with the Father and become so centered that when he was with people, He exuded love and joy. (Father Mark) is a joy-filled man of God. We have seen him minister to people in a priestly role for as long as we’ve known him … but I never had seen him meet strangers the way he did and still exude the same love of the Lord that was so obvious that he couldn’t disguise it even when he wanted to,” she added.

Over the miles, Bishop Beckman and his companions encountered believers and non-believers. They sometimes walked together, and they often walked alone.

“When we would walk into a new village, Barney would be standing at the edge of the village when I approached, and I would just see him. Father Mark would have probably gone on to scope out accommodations for the night,” Jim Bauchiero remembers. “We walked at different paces, but then we had all kinds of stories to tell of people we met or things we saw along the way.”

“It brought us closer the further we went,” Barney Shulte said. “When you are getting to the end, you are anxious to get to Santiago, you are excited about that, you are excited about getting back home to see your family, but you also don’t want it to end. That’s where I was.”

It’s been 10 years since his Camino experience, but Bishop Beckman continues to find solace and peace on the trail. With a recent trip to Hawaii, he just completed a personal goal of visiting all 50 U.S. states.

As he begins his journey leading the Diocese of Knoxville, he also understands the demands of a bishop will likely determine how and when he will hike in the Smoky Mountains.

“There are two dimensions to spirituality. One is solitude, and the other is community. And hiking feeds both of those things for me,” Bishop Beckman said.

“When we are in our ordinary routine, at a desk answering e-mails or meeting with people, we are often consumed with practicalities. Getting outside of a structured human environment and walking in the wilderness, being in a forest, walking by a creek, being awed by mountains or canyons, in something far more immense than any individual one of us is, there is a certain degree of awareness that I am sort of at the mercy of something much bigger than me.

“If something happens, I am out here by myself, that awareness that I do depend upon God. He is bigger than I am. God is such an artist and creates such beauty at every moment. I will pray when I am walking, what I call the prayer of senses: ‘God help me to see today, the beauty of Your presence in creation. Help me to hear all the sounds, to taste the taste, to touch and feel the texture of things. Feel the earth beneath my feet. Help me know with Your knowing and to love with Your loving’ … so that conscious awareness of being present with all the senses,” Bishop Beckman said.

Bishop Beckman has traveled extensively to contemplate God’s creation. Now that he calls Knoxville home, the Bishop of the Mountains won’t have to travel quite as far to get there.