Crossroads: Finding My Way Into the Catholic Church

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How simple life would be if God’s plan for each of us was clearly laid out for us to follow? Like a beam of light shining a path through a dark forest. We could rely on our faith in him and avoid the pain and suffering that often comes with plans of our own making. While that’s a novel concept, the Lord gave us free will to make our own choices, and like Adam and Eve, many of us would wander off that well-lit trail at some point in our lives.

In Proverbs it’s written, ‘Many are the plans in a human mind, but it’s the Lord’s will that prevails’. Truer words have never been spoken. Had I understood this Scripture years ago, perhaps my life would not look like a roadmap of splintered lines meandering one way and then another as I pursued journeys of my own creation.

A Lack of Spiritual Formation

As a child, religion was not a core part of my upbringing. My parents believed in God, but church and faith were never emphasized in the home. My lack of spiritual foundation carried over into my early years as an adult and my life focused solely on material possessions and personal pleasure. I lacked any semblance of a moral compass and often did things that resulted in pain and suffering for others.

In my twenties, the Lord blessed me with a marriage to a caring, devoted wife. I was sure this was the path I was meant to follow, and the marriage would last forever but a decade later I stopped cherishing the relationship, seeking my own interests. A few years later, I went through a period in my life when the only thing that mattered was my success in a meaningless sport. I became obsessed with the element of competition, and this grew into a sickness. It became a false idol for me, fueled by medals, and trophies, symbols of what I thought to be my self-worth.

Five years into this obsession, the Lord provided me with a much-needed wake-up call as I suffered a series of health challenges that weakened and humbled me. I was no longer the indestructible man I thought myself to be. One who didn’t think he needed God in his life.

Despite a life focused solely on my own needs, the Lord still provided for me. He graced me with success in my career allowing me to live a very comfortable life. But I viewed my possessions and accomplishments as a product of my own hard work, versus a gift from him. I believed in God, but I rarely acknowledged his presence. He was merely someone to run to when I was in a crisis.

I Finally Knelt Before God

My first attempt to embrace the Lord and change my ways came in my late 30s. A friend from work, a devout man and part-time pastor at his church, began asking me about my religious beliefs. I wasn’t willing to alter my lifestyle and told him that on several occasions, but he was determined. On the day before I was to be transferred to another organization, there was a knock at my office door. It was my friend standing in the hallway. This man, a faithful servant of the Lord, stepped into my office and uttered words I will never forget.

“I have been praying about you, and God spoke to me today. He told me He wants you to accept him in your life.”

I was speechless. I remember asking, “You truly believe God asked you to speak to me today?”

He nodded, and I saw his eyes moisten with tears. Then we knelt together, and I confessed my sins, accepting Jesus as my savior. After that, things were different for a while. I felt I was being called to live a different kind of life. One focused on Him. I started attending a Baptist church and my priorities slowly shifted toward the one who had created me. It would have been nice if that had been the end of the story and I had walked in his light from that point on but unfortunately, the shine in my heart soon waned, and I returned to a shallow existence focused on myself.

I stepped further and further away from him, embarking on a three-year journey through the darkest time of my life. It was a moral rollercoaster ride. I was unfaithful. I coveted. I did not honor my parents. The list goes on but despite giving up on myself, I learned God had not given up on me. Like the ebb and flow of the tide, God’s presence began to slowly erode my beliefs and the things I had held sacred.

I Began Attending Mass

In my late 40s, after two failed marriages and decades of self-induced wounds, the Lord graced me with a precious gift, my current wife of 18 years. She was a cradle Catholic, and I began attending church with her. I had never been to a Mass, and I initially found the ceremonies fascinating. I admired the displays of homage, bowing before the cross, and kneeling in prayer. But it didn’t take long for that fascination to turn in an entirely different direction.

My bias against the Catholic faith began to form when one of my wife’s siblings elected not to attend our wedding. We were married in a civil ceremony and his religious convictions precluded him from being there. That planted the initial seed of resentment and for the next twelve years, I nurtured that seed allowing it to grow from a sapling to a tree, strong and sturdy. I constructed walls around me, fueled by my anger and most of all my ignorance.

I did not appreciate the beauty of the Mass. I did not understand why we stood, then knelt, then stood again but the most bitter pill to swallow was knowing I wasn’t allowed to partake in the Eucharist, the cornerstone of Catholicism. It left me feeling inferior and alone. The walls kept getting stronger!

By the thirteenth year of my marriage, I was just going through the motions. When we stood after the Homily and recited the Creed, I refused to confess my belief in one holy Catholic church.  I rarely verbalized the traditional Catholic prayer before meals for no other reason other than it was what Catholics did.

One day as I sat in the pew watching the lines moving to the front of the church for Communion, I recognized a former colleague. As he walked down the aisle past me, his hands were clasped tightly in front of him and there was a profound look of serenity in his eyes. I realized then that I must understand the basis for his peace.

RCIA

A few weeks later, I was sitting uncomfortably in my first RCIA meeting. I entered that session with a substantial Protestant chip on my shoulder, fully expecting to gather information and reach the formal opinion that the Catholic faith was not for me. The fact I am writing this now is an indication my takeaway was different than I imagined.  I was fascinated by the history of the church and understanding ‘why’ Catholics believed what they believed. But a few months into the process, I still hadn’t embraced all the basic tenets of our faith.

I met with the RCIA director from my parish and explained my concerns. She smiled. “Unless you truly believe, you’re not ready to convert,” She turned in her chair and handed me a book. I didn’t know at the time this book would alter my life. “You might want to read this,” she said. “I think you’ll see the author struggled with some of the same issues you are dealing with.”

Dr. Scott Hahn

The book was titled, Rome Sweet Rome. It was written by a former Protestant pastor, Dr. Scott Hahn, who converted to Catholicism after years living as a Protestant. His conversion derailed a promising career and almost cost him his marriage. The book chronicled his own journey as a devout ‘anti-Catholic’ who like me, had discounted most of the basic tenets of the faith as myths and falsehoods. I began reading it as my flight was taking off from Houston, heading to the east coast on a business trip. I was so engrossed with it I finished it late that night.

I remember setting the book at the bedside, shocked the author had experienced the same disconnects I had struggled with. In his personal pilgrimage to seek the truth and prove that many of the teachings of the Catholic Church were false, he prodded and explored each element of Catholicism until the facts were slowly revealed to him. After months of research and prayer, Dr. Hahn made the life-changing decision to convert. Each of his discoveries was eye-opening to me as well. But it was his careful analysis of the history of the Eucharist in chapter six of John’s gospel, that was like a dam bursting within me, allowing my mind to be opened. I suddenly understood what had escaped me for so long.

The day I returned from my trip I met with the RCIA director again. In what was likely an undiscernible gush of exciting words and thoughts, I did my best to describe what I had learned from the book. Almost exhausted from my delivery, I waited anxiously for her response, hopeful that I had made my case. She smiled and spoke words that made my heart leap with joy. “I think you’re ready!” A few weeks later at Easter Vigil, I was Baptized and Confirmed as a Catholic. It was the greatest moment of my life.

At Home in the Catholic Church

I have found a home and an identity as a Catholic. Each day I learn a little bit more about our faith and what it means to serve God. And though my first Communion was over five years ago, I still feel a wave of grateful emotion and humility as I accept the Host onto my tongue.

God didn’t bless me with a brilliant mind, but he did grace me with the wisdom to know that it wasn’t Dr. Hahn’s book alone that opened my eyes. That was merely the final straw. It was the subtle ebb and flow of God’s awesome power that brought my walls crumbling down. I look back on my life and marvel at the depth and breadth of my wandering. Lost and astray for so long before finding the path I was intended to travel but I know they were all necessary steps in my journey to become who He meant for me to be.

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2 thoughts on “Crossroads: Finding My Way Into the Catholic Church”

  1. Pingback: VVEDNESDAY EDITION – Big Pulpit

  2. How do you now feel about the sibling who didn’t attend your wedding? Or I should specifically ask, how do you feel now about the fact they didn’t attend your wedding? Do you think that was the right choice?

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