Question for converts: What's your story?

[DavidCatechumen]

With me, it was the Eucharist rather than Baptism that won me over to Rome. Here is how I made up my mind to come home…

Like convert999, I came from an evangelical background. My father was an unspecified Protestant who was raised Methodist but switched over to the Assemblies of God when his mother converted to the A/G. My mother was Catholic. How that happened, God only knows.

I was raised in the A/G church at the behest of my dad’s mom. The pastor was very well learned and understanding. However, as is typical of the A/G, the service was simply one of praise, with no consideration of penance or conversion, and with “Communion” being done once a month without any thought of WHY we were doing it. While everyone in the church knew who Jesus was and sincerely wanted a personal relationship with Him, no one was really sure of what that involved, except singing hymns and quoting individual verses of the Bible without any attempt to understand Scripture in context.

When my dad’s mom passed away, my family stopped attending church. In graduate school, I felt empty, and began attending a Lutheran (ELCA) church. Except for the one or two Masses that I had dropped in to for friend-of-family marriages, this was the first time that I had attended a liturgical church. So suddenly, all of the Church’s history was playing out before me for the first time. And I became, as they said, deep in history.

The Lutherans confess the “Sacramental Union:” that Christ is “in, with, and under” the Gifts. However, the Lutherans believe that the bread and wine are still just that–that they don’t actually become the body and blood of Christ. The pastor once described transubstantiation as “all kinds of weird Catholic things going on.”

I would have accepted that, but I felt that something was wrong. Something didn’t compute. And so, for the first time in my life, I set out to understand what Scripture really meant. I began to realize that the Lutheran “dung heap” theology of the human soul (aka total depravity) was not Biblical. Lutherans believe that man is inherently corrupted and cannot be reconciled to Christ, but that by acceptance of Christ, the “dung heap” becomes “covered in pure snow” and therefore justified. Why, then, does Christ call us to take up our crosses and follow him? Why does He tell us to keep the commandments, if we want to draw close to Him? Doesn’t he just blanket us in grace, and then, that’s it?

Sola fidei was something that I had always taken for granted, but I began to realize that there was some serious Biblical cherry-picking going on. The Lutherans were doing it, just like the A/G did. I decided to give Protestantism one last chance, and switched to a Methodist church upon graduating (since there were no ELCA churches available back home.)

Like in the A/G church, the pastor was gifted, charismatic, and sincere. But one day, he just dropped a whopper. He was holding a loaf of bread from the grocery store and preparing to “consecrate” it for “Communion.” A Catholic parishioner asked if he would be welcome to take communion. The pastor resopnded, “we believe that this is just symbolic. This is the Lord’s table, not mine, so everyone is welcome.”

I took a long look at John chapter 6, and the Methodists’ tracts on Communion. Sure enough, the Methodists as a denomination do NOT teach that the Eucharist is symbolic–they call it a sacrament. But like the Lutherans, they taught that the Real Presence was spiritual only. The Methodist pastor once said: “The problem with non-denominationalist churches is that they have to go through the heresies again.” Why, then, are you putting us through Nestorianism again by dividing Christ up into body and spirit? And on top of that, the spiritual presence is “just a symbol?” Where is that in the Methodist constitutions, and for that matter, the Bible?!

“But the Bible does say the Eucharist is symbolic,” will say a Protestant in reply. “It is the Spirit that gives life; the flesh is of no avail. The words that I have spoken to you are spirit and life.” (John 6:63) So you are saying that the flesh of Jesus is of no avail? Then why did He have to be born of a virgin, become man, suffer and die for our sins? That’s a ridiculous conclusion, but that’s what happens when you read the Bible as little verses in space with no context.

So then it hit me: All Protestantism is inherently a symbolic religion. The Eucharist is just symbolic. It follows that the Incarnation is also just symbolic. What else is symbolic? If you follow the snowball down the hill, this is where you end up.

Here’s what I have come to believe: Protestants are Protestants because they are young in their faith. God uses Protestant churches as stepping stones, but to grow up, you have to stop being like the Jews in John 6 and accept the difficult teaching of the Eucharist. That is why the separated churches impel towards Catholic unity, as Lumen Gentium puts it.

So here I am, about to finish off RCIA and recieve the Sacraments of Initiation. That’s the story of Convert #1000.

Let’s pray that our separated bretheren continue to grow in their faith and that God will open the Scriptures to them, and bring them home.

 

[Memaw]

With me, it was the Eucharist rather than Baptism that won me over to Rome. Here is how I made up my mind to come home…

Like convert999, I came from an evangelical background. My father was an unspecified Protestant who was raised Methodist but switched over to the Assemblies of God when his mother converted to the A/G. My mother was Catholic. How that happened, God only knows.

I was raised in the A/G church at the behest of my dad’s mom. The pastor was very well learned and understanding. However, as is typical of the A/G, the service was simply one of praise, with no consideration of penance or conversion, and with “Communion” being done once a month without any thought of WHY we were doing it. While everyone in the church knew who Jesus was and sincerely wanted a personal relationship with Him, no one was really sure of what that involved, except singing hymns and quoting individual verses of the Bible without any attempt to understand Scripture in context.

When my dad’s mom passed away, my family stopped attending church. In graduate school, I felt empty, and began attending a Lutheran (ELCA) church. Except for the one or two Masses that I had dropped in to for friend-of-family marriages, this was the first time that I had attended a liturgical church. So suddenly, all of the Church’s history was playing out before me for the first time. And I became, as they said, deep in history.

The Lutherans confess the “Sacramental Union:” that Christ is “in, with, and under” the Gifts. However, the Lutherans believe that the bread and wine are still just that–that they don’t actually become the body and blood of Christ. The pastor once described transubstantiation as “all kinds of weird Catholic things going on.”

I would have accepted that, but I felt that something was wrong. Something didn’t compute. And so, for the first time in my life, I set out to understand what Scripture really meant. I began to realize that the Lutheran “dung heap” theology of the human soul (aka total depravity) was not Biblical. Lutherans believe that man is inherently corrupted and cannot be reconciled to Christ, but that by acceptance of Christ, the “dung heap” becomes “covered in pure snow” and therefore justified. Why, then, does Christ call us to take up our crosses and follow him? Why does He tell us to keep the commandments, if we want to draw close to Him? Doesn’t he just blanket us in grace, and then, that’s it?

Sola fidei was something that I had always taken for granted, but I began to realize that there was some serious Biblical cherry-picking going on. The Lutherans were doing it, just like the A/G did. I decided to give Protestantism one last chance, and switched to a Methodist church upon graduating (since there were no ELCA churches available back home.)

Like in the A/G church, the pastor was gifted, charismatic, and sincere. But one day, he just dropped a whopper. He was holding a loaf of bread from the grocery store and preparing to “consecrate” it for “Communion.” A Catholic parishioner asked if he would be welcome to take communion. The pastor resopnded, “we believe that this is just symbolic. This is the Lord’s table, not mine, so everyone is welcome.”

I took a long look at John chapter 6, and the Methodists’ tracts on Communion. Sure enough, the Methodists as a denomination do NOT teach that the Eucharist is symbolic–they call it a sacrament. But like the Lutherans, they taught that the Real Presence was spiritual only. The Methodist pastor once said: “The problem with non-denominationalist churches is that they have to go through the heresies again.” Why, then, are you putting us through Nestorianism again by dividing Christ up into body and spirit? And on top of that, the spiritual presence is “just a symbol?” Where is that in the Methodist constitutions, and for that matter, the Bible?!

“But the Bible does say the Eucharist is symbolic,” will say a Protestant in reply. “It is the Spirit that gives life; the flesh is of no avail. The words that I have spoken to you are spirit and life.” (John 6:63) So you are saying that the flesh of Jesus is of no avail? Then why did He have to be born of a virgin, become man, suffer and die for our sins? That’s a ridiculous conclusion, but that’s what happens when you read the Bible as little verses in space with no context.

So then it hit me: All Protestantism is inherently a symbolic religion. The Eucharist is just symbolic. It follows that the Incarnation is also just symbolic. What else is symbolic? If you follow the snowball down the hill, this is where you end up.

Here’s what I have come to believe: Protestants are Protestants because they are young in their faith. God uses Protestant churches as stepping stones, but to grow up, you have to stop being like the Jews in John 6 and accept the difficult teaching of the Eucharist. That is why the separated churches impel towards Catholic unity, as Lumen Gentium puts it.

So here I am, about to finish off RCIA and recieve the Sacraments of Initiation. That’s the story of Convert #1000.

Let’s pray that our separated bretheren continue to grow in their faith and that God will open the Scriptures to them, and bring them home.

David, you can’t imagine how your “Journey Home” story filled me with such JOY. God Bless you and all others for following Christ in your heart. I know your Grandmother has been praying for you. You all really make me appreciate my Catholic Faith so much more. God Bless you all and continued prayers, Memaw

 

[convert999]

The strangest, and saddest, thing about joining the Catholic Church is that this is the first church we’ve been to that explicitly told us that our son is a special gift, that he is a blessing to his CIC class, and that seems to accept him for who he is. When we went to Protestant churches we were asked not to bring him back to Sunday School because he was disruptive. He was even kicked out of Vacation Bible School because he was “too excited about the songs.” We were afraid to send him to the CIC class, even though he is very high-functioning. When our priest told us that Christ is present with him in a very special way, we almost fell over. God is good! Debbie

 

[Ganyssa]

The strangest, and saddest, thing about joining the Catholic Church is that this is the first church we’ve been to that explicitly told us that our son is a special gift, that he is a blessing to his CIC class, and that seems to accept him for who he is. When we went to Protestant churches we were asked not to bring him back to Sunday School because he was disruptive. He was even kicked out of Vacation Bible School because he was “too excited about the songs.” We were afraid to send him to the CIC class, even though he is very high-functioning. When our priest told us that Christ is present with him in a very special way, we almost fell over. God is good! Debbie

I left the church I was baptized in because my daughter got kicked out of the nursery at 13 months old. Apparently she failed to use her “inside voice,” even though she had been asked to do so repeatedly. Four Protestant denominations later, I realized the problem isn’t that she’s loud, it’s that she’s Catholic

 

[convert999]

I always got the impression that our parenting skills were being judged in our evangelical church. Once I was told that our son was autistic because we were lacking in faith. One unforgettable moment was when we were told he was demon-possessed because he wouldn’t sit still for a Bible story. But 13 months! That’s incredible. Is is something in Protestant theology that cannot accept diversity/disability? (Of course, I’m not saying your daughter has a disability – I’m referring to my son.) Debbie

 

[Ganyssa]

I always got the impression that our parenting skills were being judged in our evangelical church. Once I was told that our son was autistic because we were lacking in faith. One unforgettable moment was when we were told he was demon-possessed because he wouldn’t sit still for a Bible story. But 13 months! That’s incredible. Is is something in Protestant theology that cannot accept diversity/disability? (Of course, I’m not saying your daughter has a disability – I’m referring to my son.) Debbie

My daughter does not have a disability, but I was a single mom from before her birth - my ex-husband decided he didn’t want a child after all and moved out-of-state rather than be involved. Some people in the church, including the woman in charge of the nursery, equated single parenthood with being a bad mom.

 

[Jerry_Parker]

David Catechumen,

**You wrote: ** The Lutherans confess the “Sacramental Union:” that Christ is “in, with, and under” the Gifts. However, the Lutherans believe that the bread and wine are still just that–that they don’t actually become the body and blood of Christ. The pastor once described transubstantiation as “all kinds of weird Catholic things going on.” … the Methodists as a denomination do NOT teach that the Eucharist is symbolic–they call it a sacrament. But like the Lutherans, they taught that the Real Presence was spiritual only.

David, your perception of genuine Lutheran eucharistic theology is faulty. That is not so surprising, I suppose, since the ELCA Lutherans (of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America) are so liberal, thus tending to be anti-miraculous (and, of course, the Real Presence is an instance, a perpetual one, of the miraculous). My own Lutheranism (which is in the process of being left behind!) is that of the orbit of the former “Synodical Conference” (of which the best known Lutheran bodies are the LCMS and the WELS). Lutherans do not deny the Real Presence of Christ’s Body and Blood in the consecrated elements of the Eucharist. They believe that the element of bread truly becomes Christ’s physical body and spiritual self, yet simultaneously also remains truly bread. Similarly, the wine becomes Christ’s physical Blood, yet also remains truly wine. The teaching is a difficult and paradoxical one, and doubting ELCA Lutherans often are happy to cast it aside with careless scorn, but genuine Lutheranism does teach that Christ gives Himself wholely, physically and spiritually, in the Sacrament of the Altar. The Methodists, like some other Protestants, seem to believe that Christ’s Presence in the Eucharist is spiritual, yes, but physical, no. There is a big difference there between Lutheranism and Methodism!

However, it is not that “big a deal” since, if Protestant sacraments are invalid, there is no Real Presence through their eucharistic ministrations, however individual deonomination may construe the Real Presence or may deny it. The Eastern Orthodox believe in the Real Presence, but refrain from accepting Transubstantiation, as such, as the explanation, preferring not to conjecture on how the Real Presence takes place, which is how “Anglo-Catholics” (but not all Anglicans, whose official formularies teach “receptionism”), accept teaching about the Real Presence, again, with dubious validity of Anglican sacramental compentency, due to how both the Orthodox, Roman Catholics, and Eastern Catholics contest the validity of Anglican Holy Orders. However, olf course, in the case of the Eastern Orthodox, their Eucharist is valid, because their priestly and episcopal orders are valid and they certainly do not call into question Christ’s Real, Corporeal, and complete Human-Divine Presence in the Eucharist’s elements.

Anyway, you and I are on the path to leaving all these headache-instigating controversies behind us!

Jerry Parker (still “barely” Lutheran)

 

[DavidCatechumen]

David Catechumen,

David, your perception of genuine Lutheran eucharistic theology is faulty. That is not so surprising, I suppose, since the ELCA Lutherans (of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America) are so liberal, thus tending to be anti-miraculous (and, of course, the Real Presence is an instance, a perpetual one, of the miraculous).

Jerry,

I think you hit the nail on the head, one that I completely missed.

Anti-miracle-ism (if that is even a word) is a serious problem for Christians of all denominations. Clearly, it is a big stumbling block to understanding the Eucharist. It didn’t occur to me until now that, for example, Pentecostals (e.g. A/G) readily accept charismatic gifts and people being slain in the Spirit–but not that Christ can really be present in the Eucharist.

genuine Lutheranism does teach that Christ gives Himself wholely, physically and spiritually, in the Sacrament of the Altar. The Methodists, like some other Protestants, seem to believe that Christ’s Presence in the Eucharist is spiritual, yes, but physical, no. There is a big difference there between Lutheranism and Methodism!

It looks like my ELCA church did indeed water down the Sacramental Union to only a spiritual presence.

However, it is not that “big a deal” since, if Protestant sacraments are invalid, there is no Real Presence through their eucharistic ministrations, however individual deonomination may construe the Real Presence or may deny it.

On a related note, a religious brother and I discussed different separated/Protestant churches as part of the RCIA course. He thinks that some of the Protestants have valid orders (including some Lutherans and even some Methodists, as they may have been Anglican clergy with Old Catholic orders before splitting off from that church), and may be able to validly confect the Eucharist. Even IF that is true, there’s basically no way to know–and even if it was so, there would be the whole problem of failing to threat the consecrated species with the proper respect.

Anyway, you and I are on the path to leaving all these headache-instigating controversies behind us!

Roger that.

 

[dannyh010]

I entered our Blessed Mother Church four years ago on Pentecost of 2005. It was the happiest day of my life.

I came from a family of Jehovah’s Witnesses (JW). My father grew up as JW since birth, and my mother joined them, too, in her mid-20s after falling away from her Catholic faith. This is how they met.

Together they raised myself and all of my siblings as JWs for the next 14 years. I remember attending meetings (JW worship service), knocking on people’s doors on Saturday mornings, not participating in school activities (football games, holiday parties), etc., because of the JW faith.

It wasn’t until my parents had a falling-out with the JW congregational leadership that they quit for good. It was a huge price to pay, as we lost all association with my father’s side of the family, who are all JWs, due to the JW rule that once you quit their religion, you are considered dead and shunned. To this day, some 20+ years later, they still refuse to speak to us.

We fell back on my mother’s Catholic roots and at 15 years old, I, along with my sisters, was baptized in the Catholic Church. From there, we attended Mass fairly regularly, but had no idea about anything “Catholic”. My parents couldn’t afford to send us to catechism classes, and the priest who baptized us didn’t tell my parents about RCIA. Eventually, we’d miss a Mass here, miss a Mass there until gradually we stopped going, except for Christmas and Easter (maybe).

As I look back on it now, the lack of education in the Faith, the lack of God in our lives, was probably the biggest void in our family life. Because of my parents’ devout JW background, religious education was heavily colored with JW theology and reasoning, even though they had quit and renounced that “religion” (cough cult) years ago. It was all they knew. Sporadically, we received tid-bits of ideas and opinions about the Bible, about religion, from various “authoritative” friends, and attended different churches that they had invited us to. My dad never took to any of them. He said they all “felt like Kingdom Halls” (JW churches).

I grew up and began my own search for the “right” religion, for God’s truth. There were so many things happening in my family life at the time, a time I’d describe as a great darkness, and I guess I was desperate to find an answer to everything. I prayed, I tried reading the bible, I searched the internet, etc., etc., etc. I even tried attending Mass again on a regular basis. It lasted for a few weeks. I kept looking for inspiration, or meaning from the scriptures read at Mass, or in the priest’s homily. When I got those things, I was inspired to keep attending; when I didn’t, I questioned whether I was wasting my time or not.

One Easter, 2004, my parents and I decided it was time to attend Mass for a change. They’d come with me a few times previous, which I think is what motivated them for the Easter Mass. By this time I’d read nearly all of the Gospels, all of the Book of Acts, and a good portion of the New Testament letters of St. Paul.

Mass started as usual and I was enjoying my time with my family. Then I saw something I’d never seen before. In the middle of the Mass, the priest gathered a group of four or five people and directed them to stand in the front of the church. This captured my attention because I had no idea what was going on. He announced something to the effect of a “confirmation” ceremony, whatever that was.

The rite progressed and I followed along in the missilette as best I could. Then the priest did something that sent chills down my spine. One at time, he stood in front of each person, and pressed both of his hands on top of their heads. I felt my breath leave my body as I remembered the book of Acts. “That’s the laying of hands!” I whispered to my mother. “They still do that?!”

The rite and the Mass concluded, and I decided to inquire if the church had classes for adults interested in learning more about the Bible. I wormed my way through the crowd until I reached the priest and asked my question. He returned the most perplexed look to me.

“You mean you’ve never been confirmed?”

I had no clue what he was talking about, but I said no, I hadn’t.

He then turned to a man dressed in a white suit and a pink tie with a large wooden cross hanging around his neck by a brown leather string. “Reggie,” the father said, “he’s never been confirmed.”

Reggie, who had dark hair, a dark beard, and dark eyes, didn’t greet me or inquire further. He simply laughed and grabbed me up into a great big bear-hug.

Had the man in white flipped his lid? I thought. I hugged him back politely, then we exchanged business cards and email addresses. The classes, I learned, wouldn’t start again until the following November, and he would contact us when it was time.

I went home feeling good, feeling like something had been accomplished, but I had no idea what.

 

[usemelord]

Convert999, what a beautiful story. And, no, we never get tired of hearing another story. Mine is found at the top of page 20. We all find “home” and the Truth by divergent routes. But praise God that we do get there. Amen and amen.

 

[dannyh010]

The eight months that passed were an eternity. Though not much had changed at home, I couldn’t help but feel that something different was in the waiting. It was like an anticipation was tantalizing me, that something bigger and better was one it’s way.

November finally rolled around and Reggie called us. Our first class was to be on a Tuesday night at 6:30 in the church rectory.

We - my father and I - nearly missed the class because of work. We had just finished a long day on the road and were dead tired, but we pushed and decided to go anyway.

Reggie greeted us again with that great big bear-hug again. There were about ten us of altogether, and we spent that class discussing the requirements of attendance, what would be involved, and the father assessed everyone’s status - baptized, unbaptized, confirmed, unconfirmed, etc. I learned that my mother could also attend if she wanted. When it was finished we returned home with the news. Thus began six months of one-on-one with God.

I learned the faith like I’d never known it before. It was so life-changing in so many ways that I can’t even begin to describe it. The pivotal night, though, the event that made me a Catholic, was the night I learned of the Holy Eucharist.

The class was studying the sacraments. Reggie had given us hand-outs, like he always did, for our lesson. They contained scripture quotes, examples of the Church’s teaching, etc. He taught us John chapter 6, and 1 Corinthians 11. He explained the Real Presence, and what the Eucharist meant to Catholics. Up until that point, I had never heard of the Real Presence or transubstantiation in my life.

I stopped him. “Wait a minute. Are you telling me that Jesus is actually physically present the bread, in that little wafer, right now, in that gold box in the church? What do you call it again… that tabernacle?”

“Yes,” he said.

I raised my eyebrows and nodded, thinking, Okay, if you say so.

Later the class ended and we returned home. My parents were elated. I was confused.

I had heard the teaching from the class, the literal interpretation of John 6, but I was equally considering what I knew a Protestant symbolic interpretation would be. From a cursory reading of the scripture, wouldn’t both versions make sense? I could easily see a Protestant interpretation making as much sense as a Catholic one. What made the Catholic Church’s view the right one? I went off by myself to think.

Sitting alone, thinking about John 6, I rolled the scriptures around in my head. Jesus had given the teaching, and the Jewish leaders had rejected it. They were angry and horrified by His words. I took my time, and tried to see that day in my mind, tried to imagine the circumstances and feelings and tempers that flared. Then it hit me.

As if a voice had whispered the answer into my ear, I heard, “If it were only symbolic, then why would they need to get mad?”

Tumblers fell into place one by one in my mind. It was now so clear.

I rushed into the living room and told my parents what I’d finally understood. They were both so happy, even if they understood it before I did.

Later that night, when the house quieted, I sat at my computer and put Jennifer Knapp on the headphones. I cried and cried that night until exhaustion forced me to sleep. I soared to the greatest joys I had ever felt and plummeted to the deepest sorrows again and again and again. It was like the happiness I had always been looking for and the grief from years upon years of old, calloused pain had flowed through me at the same time. I kept saying, “I’ve finally found Him! I’ve finally found Him!”

A week later I gave my first confession in 15 years. Five months later, I felt the sacramentally oiled thumb of my priest trace the cross on my forehead as I was confirmed into Christ’s Church.

Nothing has been the same since. Today, I’m in the Legion of Mary, the Knights of Columbus, and the Holy Name Society; I attend Mass every Sunday and on holy days of obligation; Holy Week is my favorite time of year, and I thank God every day for finally, mercifully, and lovingly bringing me home.

God bless.

 

[DavidCatechumen]

Sitting alone, thinking about John 6, I rolled the scriptures around in my head. Jesus had given the teaching, and the Jewish leaders had rejected it. They were angry and horrified by His words. I took my time, and tried to see that day in my mind, tried to imagine the circumstances and feelings and tempers that flared. Then it hit me.

As if a voice had whispered the answer into my ear, I heard, “If it were only symbolic, then why would they need to get mad?”
…

A week later I gave my first confession in 15 years. Five months later, I felt the sacramentally oiled thumb of my priest trace the cross on my forehead as I was confirmed into Christ’s Church.

Nothing has been the same since. Today, I’m in the Legion of Mary, the Knights of Columbus, and the Holy Name Society; I attend Mass every Sunday and on holy days of obligation; Holy Week is my favorite time of year, and I thank God every day for finally, mercifully, and lovingly bringing me home.

God bless.

Danny,

You are where I aspire to be very soon. Congratulations and God bless you too!

 

[luminoushope]

Convert 999,

I tend to say to myself, “Just let me be human, Lord; I want to rejoin the human race and put all this non-catholic rubbish behind me!”

Jerry Parker

That’s exactly it. Exactly! The peculiar, strained nature of the “other churches” does not allow people to be just human. What blessed relief in the Catholic Church! Some people have written in about how their “special” children were rejected in the “other churches.” That is the saddest thing. Parents, God has seen your every tear and in the Catholic Church He will turn them to joy.

 

[Memaw]

I left the church I was baptized in because my daughter got kicked out of the nursery at 13 months old. Apparently she failed to use her “inside voice,” even though she had been asked to do so repeatedly. Four Protestant denominations later, I realized the problem isn’t that she’s loud, it’s that she’s Catholic

We have a little Downs S. girl about 8 yrs old at our church and she sets fairly close to me and she sings loud and doesn’t really know the words and one day her Mom apologized to me for her being so loud and I said, “Oh no, shes beautiful, God hears her better than he does us.” She sings better than me!

God Bless, Memaw

 

[Memaw]

The eight months that passed were an eternity. Though not much had changed at home, I couldn’t help but feel that something different was in the waiting. It was like an anticipation was tantalizing me, that something bigger and better was one it’s way.

November finally rolled around and Reggie called us. Our first class was to be on a Tuesday night at 6:30 in the church rectory.

We - my father and I - nearly missed the class because of work. We had just finished a long day on the road and were dead tired, but we pushed and decided to go anyway.

Reggie greeted us again with that great big bear-hug again. There were about ten us of altogether, and we spent that class discussing the requirements of attendance, what would be involved, and the father assessed everyone’s status - baptized, unbaptized, confirmed, unconfirmed, etc. I learned that my mother could also attend if she wanted. When it was finished we returned home with the news. Thus began six months of one-on-one with God.

I learned the faith like I’d never known it before. It was so life-changing in so many ways that I can’t even begin to describe it. The pivotal night, though, the event that made me a Catholic, was the night I learned of the Holy Eucharist.

The class was studying the sacraments. Reggie had given us hand-outs, like he always did, for our lesson. They contained scripture quotes, examples of the Church’s teaching, etc. He taught us John chapter 6, and 1 Corinthians 11. He explained the Real Presence, and what the Eucharist meant to Catholics. Up until that point, I had never heard of the Real Presence or transubstantiation in my life.

I stopped him. “Wait a minute. Are you telling me that Jesus is actually physically present the bread, in that little wafer, right now, in that gold box in the church? What do you call it again… that tabernacle?”

“Yes,” he said.

I raised my eyebrows and nodded, thinking, Okay, if you say so.

Later the class ended and we returned home. My parents were elated. I was confused.

I had heard the teaching from the class, the literal interpretation of John 6, but I was equally considering what I knew a Protestant symbolic interpretation would be. From a cursory reading of the scripture, wouldn’t both versions make sense? I could easily see a Protestant interpretation making as much sense as a Catholic one. What made the Catholic Church’s view the right one? I went off by myself to think.

Sitting alone, thinking about John 6, I rolled the scriptures around in my head. Jesus had given the teaching, and the Jewish leaders had rejected it. They were angry and horrified by His words. I took my time, and tried to see that day in my mind, tried to imagine the circumstances and feelings and tempers that flared. Then it hit me.

As if a voice had whispered the answer into my ear, I heard, “If it were only symbolic, then why would they need to get mad?”

Tumblers fell into place one by one in my mind. It was now so clear.

I rushed into the living room and told my parents what I’d finally understood. They were both so happy, even if they understood it before I did.

Later that night, when the house quieted, I sat at my computer and put Jennifer Knapp on the headphones. I cried and cried that night until exhaustion forced me to sleep. I soared to the greatest joys I had ever felt and plummeted to the deepest sorrows again and again and again. It was like the happiness I had always been looking for and the grief from years upon years of old, calloused pain had flowed through me at the same time. I kept saying, “I’ve finally found Him! I’ve finally found Him!”

A week later I gave my first confession in 15 years. Five months later, I felt the sacramentally oiled thumb of my priest trace the cross on my forehead as I was confirmed into Christ’s Church.

Nothing has been the same since. Today, I’m in the Legion of Mary, the Knights of Columbus, and the Holy Name Society; I attend Mass every Sunday and on holy days of obligation; Holy Week is my favorite time of year, and I thank God every day for finally, mercifully, and lovingly bringing me home.

God bless.

These stories are sooo edifying, I love them, please keep telling us about your journeys. You bring new zeal into the Church. Waking up us sleepy long time Catholics. God Bless, Memaw

 

[DavidCatechumen]

We have a little Downs S. girl about 8 yrs old at our church and she sets fairly close to me and she sings loud and doesn’t really know the words and one day her Mom apologized to me for her being so loud and I said, “Oh no, shes beautiful, God hears her better than he does us.” She sings better than me!

“Let the children come to me; do not prevent them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. Amen, I say to you, whoever does not accept the kingdom of God like a child will not enter it.” Then he embraced them and blessed them, placing his hands on them.

Mk 10:14-16

 

[Jerry_Parker]

David Catechumen and Luminous Hope,

Thanks for the feedback from my comments. I am pleased to be helpful (for a change?)!

David, you wrote: On a related note, a religious brother and I discussed different separated/Protestant churches as part of the RCIA course. He thinks that some of the Protestants have valid orders (including some Lutherans and even some Methodists, as they may have been Anglican clergy with Old Catholic orders before splitting off from that church), and may be able to validly confect the Eucharist. Even IF that is true, there’s basically no way to know–and even if it was so, there would be the whole problem of failing to threat the consecrated species with the proper respect.

I have to say that it pleases me that there is some room for hoping the best for Lutherans and Anglicans regarding the validity of holy orders and of other sacramental ministrations besides Holy Baptism. Of course, some Baltic and Scandanavian churches have maintained apostolic succession of bishops, as have the Anglicans. Alas, the ordination of women in the Church of Sweden (in the state church of Finland, too, I suspect) and in many of the Anglican jurisdictions probably is eroding that strand of legitimacy, especially as lady bishopesses ordain priests and partake in consecrating bishops, mullifying or at least endangering their validity.

The Eastern Orthodox regard doctrinal integrity as a factor in keeping apostolic succession, something that does figure into Roman Catholic thinking to some degree, also; an hereretical hierarchy (which afflicts so many of the Lutheran and Anglican churches) undermines legitimacy as much, or more, than do matters of “tactile” succession. One hopes that God is patient with orthodox Lutherans and Anglicans and does provide authentic eucharistic graces to them.

Jerry Parker

 

[Scouter]

I married a nice Irish Catholic girl, so it was asumed from the beginning that I would become a Catholic by all her family, or the curse of the Irish would be upon me ( a nice Norwegian-American boy). So I did. I was raised a Presbyterian, so I was at least a Christian. The conversion classes were done before RCIA came into effect and our priest was a young man who held class Saturday afternoons, right after this tennis game, so he came to class in tennis whites. What a kick!. It a went smoothly until I asked: what’s the deal with the Trinity? His reply was simply: just think of it as one is three, three is one. So my major introduction to Catholicism was on a very simple plain. When I was “converted” I was re-baptized, converted and Confirmed all in one sitting/standing/dunking/blessing. I won’t say who the priest was or where the church was, but a way to go! Ihave learned more about my faith by teaching scouts their religious medals than I have from any priest or service, even though the local Bishop and I shared a car ride a couple of times ( I did this as part of my service project for scouting). Our Bishop is a kick, too.

 

[selah603]

I was baptised and confirmed a Catholic in my childhood and turned away from church and God in my early teens. The more I drifted away the more cynical I became. In the end I was agnostic bordering on atheism. At the beginning of the year I attended a relative’s funeral in the Catholic church which I was brought up in. Being somewhat agoraphobic for several months made the build up to the ocassion particularly stressful - I was preoccupied with trying to plan my ‘escape route’ should I succumb to panic.

About 5 minutes into the Mass, I was overcome with a sense of peace, calm and welcome the likes of which I have never exerienced before. I could hear God calling “Welcome home”. For the first time in my adult life I prayed and participated in the Mass. My head was spinning for the rest of the day - Was I going mad? Was it the emotion of the ocassion? With each question the “welcome home” message repeated in my head.

The following Sunday I attended Mass in full expectation of anxiety and panic, together with confirmation that I had indeed ‘gone mad’. The same welcome calm engulfed me - I was home with God once more. I am still on my journey and am truly amazed by the way in which my life has transformed. In preparation for the sacrament of reconcilliation I was moved to tears which shocked me to my core. My mental health has improved to the point that EVERYONE has noticed and are noticeably shocked at the transformation. The anxiety has all but gone and the agoraphobia is subsiding radically.

I have not yet told anyone about my conversion to faith and to Catholicism as yet, I am unsure of the reasons. Perhaps it is because of how strongly against faith and religion I was. My journey is only just beginning and I don’t feel prepared enough to stand up to questioning. My mum is herself a devout Catholic, and I have not even told her yet. I can’t put my finger on it - perhaps its fear of eating my words from the last 20+ years. Whatever it is, its hard to explain. I pray that as I grow closer to God that I will find the words and courage.

Welcome Home Nic!!! Your story is profound and very moving. As a mother who prays for her children, I hae a feeling that she is going to welcoming you with open arms when you tell her. I’ll be praying for you.

Peace,
Pam

 

[cazayoux]

bump