In his new book, To Heights and unto Depths, Father John Nepil doesn’t just recount a month-long trek on the Colorado Trail.
Across 217 pages, he takes you on a journey through the Catholic faith and the gift that it is to be human. With each step, he calls readers to look around, breathe deep, and encounter the One who made it all.
Fr. John Nepil has been bitten by the writing bug—and it shows. His prose is both poetic and intellectual, effortlessly weaving together theology and philosophy with the rest of the humanities. From the Greeks to Hans Urs von Balthasar to Ratzinger, his reflections draw from the great minds of history and the truths of our faith.
More than just letters from the trail, Fr. Nepil’s work asks us to rediscover the mystery of everyday life, slow down, and, as he puts it, “just be.” He writes:
“I learned again ‘the one thing … needful (Lk. 10:42)—to simply be with Jesus in all things’” (138).
Fr. Nepil shares his call to the mountains, his dream of offering Mass on each summit, and his youthful struggles with self-reliance and pride. I was instantly taken back to my teenage years when I longed for something beyond Florida’s flat landscapes—the pull of Carolina peaks, the crisp morning air, the silence of wilderness. His journey mirrored my own search for higher ground and the call to go upward and inward all at once.
This sense of “adventure” is in all of us. But within that stirs a still deeper longing:
“Beauty moves us in ways we don’t understand. In fact, we often don’t realize that we are moving” (101).
One of the book’s central themes can be best summed up in the chapter “Islands of Humanity.” While watching the sunrise at Galena Peak, Fr. Nepil recalls being at the summit of Klein Matterhorn with several students, where he came across a crucifix that particularly struck him:
“At the summit, I saw a beautifully wood-carved crucifix. Below the body of our Lord were written the words ‘mehr mensch sein’ (be more human). This struck me at once as one of the most powerful and important insights into the essence of Christianity that I had ever seen” (73).
This theme—that the Christian life is a call to deeper humanity—runs through the book. Fr. Nepil writes:
“If humanity is the criteria to understanding the truth of Christianity, then the daily task of the Christian is to become more human” (75).
Yet, in a world consumed by busyness and self-reliance, modern society has lost its sense of mystery. Instead, we have replaced wonder with efficiency and faith with skepticism. As he puts it:
“The modern world is founded on a rejection of this event [the Word becoming flesh] . . . The logic of Christ is no longer the mode for interpreting human experience, which severs any notion of salvation in him” (74).
This loss is especially evident in how we view the world around us. We have reduced the heavens to just the sky, stripping language—and with it, meaning—of its depth. In Chapter 19, he reflects on this shift, reminding us that our words about God are often tidy and structured, yet the reality of God is wild and untamed:
“Every word we utter about God is a garden—cultivated, ordered, pristine. But the reality beyond that word is a wilderness—untamed, ungraspable, and truly wild” (199).
Reading this book, I was reminded of something Sr. Miriam James Heidland said during the Pray40 challenge on Hallow: “Communion is the answer.” She spoke about how all of life’s mysteries shape us into who we are, which resonates deeply with Fr. Nepil’s reflections on the trail. She also mentioned Pope Benedict XVI’s encyclical Spe Salvi, where he writes:
“Before His gaze, all falsehood melts away. This encounter with Him, as it burns us, transforms and frees us, allowing us to become truly ourselves . . . and thus totally of God.”
How fitting for Fr. Nepil’s journey! His book is a call to walk the path of faith with open hands—ascending the heights, descending the depths, and, through it all, becoming more human.
At its heart, this book is a meditation on gift: creation, existence, and suffering are all part of something given, something meaningful; none of it is random, and none of us are self-sufficient. Some of my favorite passages drive this message home:
“To be created means to come from the freedom of another. In this way, all of creation is first and foremost relational” (35).
“Mountains simply are, and by naturally being, they mean something” (2).
“Man is inescapably compelled by his innate religiosity” (3).
“So, we return time and again to the mountains to suffer” (31).
“Christian friendship, within the experience of the mountains, now revealed the new key to the interpretation of my life—that being is itself a gift” (94).
“Deus absconditus haic (God is hidden here)” (167).
“Here the heart is simply ravished by mystery, laid bare to offer the one thing necessary—Eucharistic gratitude” (173).
Because of these truths, the natural world demands a response from us to challenge modern indifference:
“There is no neutrality to the God question; not to answer is to have answered” (186).
Before picking up To Heights and unto Depths, I wondered if it would resonate with me as a woman. The back cover features an endorsement from Sam Guzman: “I believe men will especially find this book appealing due to its adventurous spirit and theological depth.” Would there be something here for the feminine heart?
To my delight, Fr. Nepil dedicates an entire chapter—Chapter 29, “Fiat”—to the mystery of womanhood:
“The mystery of woman stands or falls with the mystery of God” (194).
He writes about the beauty of femininity lived in Marian fullness, the genius of “receptive self-giving” modeled after Mary. And this theme isn’t confined to one chapter. Again and again, he weaves Our Lady into his reflections:
“Living in the is is exemplified in the life of Mary, the purest Christian form, who models it in the feminine posture of total receptivity” (113).
This book isn’t just for men or just for women, theology buffs, or lovers of the outdoors—it’s for everyone. It speaks to the essence of being human, of our deep interconnectedness.
“It is, in the mind of a Christian, one of the most powerful testimonies of a God who loves beauty simply because it is beautiful—and creates it in a joyful squandering of love” (132).
If you want to hear more from Fr. John Nepil? Listen below through our podcast, A Resounding Yes!
With over eight years of experience and a Bachelor’s in Creative Writing, Marge Hynes is a dynamic writer whose portfolio spans SEO-driven copywriting, journalism, and marketing—a versatile skill set that allows her to craft compelling content for Paloma & Fig’s projects.
Marge’s Catholic faith serves as the cornerstone of her work. She approaches storytelling with thoughtfulness and a deep appreciation for the Lord’s own creative power. Her love of the written word shines through in every project, helping clients articulate their message with clarity, heart, and purpose.
When she’s not writing, Marge can be found leading praise and worship, diving into theological books, or exploring the great outdoors with her loyal dog, Augustine (Auggie for short).
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