I’m a convert, Tiber Swim Team Class of 1996.
I grew up as a nominal Methodist (my Dad is Methodist, my Mom Catholic, neither one practicing). When I was about 9 or 10, I went to Sunday school for a few months because my Mom felt I should have some religious exposure. However, it didn’t really ‘take’, I was a staunch agnostic through childhood. Besides, I thought church was rather boring- saccharine songs and boring sermons- one time when we went to church for my cousin’s christening, the minister actually performed magic tricks on the altar! However, there was one time that did leave an impression on me. My grandmother attended church (she was Methodist) quite regularly, and one time when my family was visiting her (I was a teenager at the time), it was decided we would accompany her to church. As it so happened, they were having a communion service that Sunday (the only one I ever saw in all the times I went). The congregants went up one pew at a time, kneeled around the altar, and partook of the bread and wine. I had no clue what it was they were doing, but I
felt this was different: it wasn’t a droning sermon or some antique hymn, this was something REAL. I asked my Dad why we didn’t go up, and he replied “because you wouldn’t have wanted to.”
I encountered this feeling again when I was in the Navy. The first submarine I was assigned to had regularly scheduled religious activities (the only submarine I served on that did). Every Sunday the Protestants would hold their service in the mess deck and the Catholics would hold theirs in the wardroom. One Sunday I was passing through the mess deck to get a cup of coffee when the Protestant crew members were preparing for a communion service. I was invited to join, but turned the offer down as “I didn’t believe in that stuff” but I still had the feeling that I was passing up on something.
Fast forward some 8 years later when I was out of the Navy, and had become a believer attending a Southern Baptist church. I remember how I looked forward to the first communion service I partook in. While I didn’t believe in the doctrine of the Real Presence at that time, I still felt the Lord’s Supper was something important for Christians to partake in. However, I was rather disappointed that the church I attended only did it once a month, which I thought wasn’t enough.
At this time I was sharing a place with a friend who was Roman Catholic, however I had a staunch anti-catholic attitude (towards the institution, not it’s members). My friend tried to get me to go to RCIA classes to learn more about what the Church tought, but I had my Bible and I ‘knew’ better. Eventually he did talk me into going to a weekday Mass. When we entered the church there was a group of people reciting the Rosary. HORRORS! Praying to Mary, and with vain repetitions even! Anyhow, the Church service started, with the lector holding the lectionary aloft. I asked my friend what he was carrying, and he said it was the Bible, and he was holding it up because it was God’s Word. I had to admit, I was impressed by the Church’s respect for the Bible, yet with my Protestant pride I couldn’t help thinking, “Now if they’d only
READ it.” When they time came for communion I wanted to go up badly, but my friend held me back, saying it was for Catholics only. Even though the Catholic church had Communion daily, my prejudice against the church ran too deep. However, a short time, later, one of the residents at the building where I worked as a security guard happened to be Eastern Orthodox. Orthodoxy was different enough from Catholicism for me to get past my bias, but close enough to give me a better understanding of Catholicism. I attended a Greek Orthodox service, which was very beautiful, but I felt rather out of place as a non-Greek, as most of the congregants were of Greek heritage (the priest himself came from Greece). While I was pondering this, my friend mentioned the RCIA class for the umpteenth time, and this time, I decided to go. At the same time, I checked out all the books on Catholicism I could find at the local library. The RCIA instructors were warm people who helped me overcome my doubts and really made me feel at home. What was really nice was that I was able to enter the Church in Easter 1996 after having been in RCIA for only 4 months (all that reading I did really paid off!). I remember how happy I was when I was able to TRULY partake the Body and Blood of Our Lord for the first time.
The Holy Spirit is amazing in the way that He deals with us all isn’t he? Wow! :coffeeread: