Saturday, July 10, 2010

Finding the Fullness of the Faith

A few days ago, I promised that I would one day soon share the story of how I became Catholic.  I should forewarn you all that it isn't really an "exciting" conversion story - I didn't find God in the midst of drugs, rock n' roll, or any other scandalous activity, just grew up Christian and found God more and more along the way... but I hope that the following inspires and gives glory to Him who calls us all by name.

I was born and baptized into the Congregational church, under the guidance of two loving, Christ-like, God-fearing parents.  We went through brief stints of going to other churches (mainly a Baptist sort of one) but mostly I grew up within the relatively liturgical UCC.  This was mostly prior to when the UCC went noticeably nuts with the whole inclusive language, ordaining women, sort of thing... though I'm sure my parents could see such coming.  I didn't; I just knew it as the church that we went to, that my grandparents went to, and even when I sometimes didn't want to go to church on Sundays, I knew it was something that we did every week as a family, non-negotiably.  Of course, it didn't hurt that my dad woke us up every Sunday morning to breakfast in bed (usually donuts from the local bakery!).  I remember attending Sunday school as a young child, loved singing songs, making friends, and learning about Jesus; I also remember being told at the Baptist-ish church that I needed to accept Jesus as my personal Lord and Savior, or else I would go to hell (I think I was all of 5 or 6 when that happened).  Strangely, at that age, I sort of agonized over the decision - it was of huge import to my young self, but I remember finally deciding that I didn't want to go to hell, and saying in my head, "I accept you..." etc.  I didn't really understand how that little act made all the difference, but I did feel peace afterwards.

As I grew, I became more involved in the Congregational church; my best friend and I sang in the choir, I went through the Confirmation class taught by my dad; attended various "ecumenical" events with the local Methodist and Catholic churches, but had no inkling that I would ever be anything but what I was. Not that I saw other church as non-Christian; I just didn't see any reason to go anywhere else.  At the same time, I do remember noting one fact from the Confirmation class: my dad showed us a drawing of a tree with many branches, all labeled different denominations of the faith, with the dates when they had all divided from the "trunk".  I remember noticing that the "trunk" was the Catholic church, and sort of wondering why all these denominations were necessary, but I didn't explore the question much further.

At the same time, my older brother and I were being home schooled by our parents (K-12, as a matter of fact).  It was homeschooling that actually changed everything - more specifically, a Bob Jones University Press history textbook.  My mom, being the good ecumenical Congregationalist that she was, was rather appalled at how anti-Catholic the textbook she was using for my brother's history of the middle ages, etc, was.  So she decided, quite innocently, to supplement the curriculum that year with the writings of the early Church Fathers.  Of course, as many who have started down the same path know, you cannot read those Fathers too carefully without endangering your Protestantism!  So she and my brother read more and more, and slowly dialogues began happening within our house, books on tape and books in print with debates about Catholicism, and then books like Scott Hahn's Rome Sweet Home.  She and my brother attended the Episcopalian Easter Vigil, came home smelling like incense and describing the liturgy in glowing terms; meanwhile, I remained relatively untouched and unimpressed.

Regardless of my outer attitude, the seeds were slowly growing within.  From the time I was very small, I naively held the belief that the communion that we were given once a month (even prior to when I was taking communion, I believed this) was actually Jesus.  Not just in a vague metaphorical sense, but that it was actually His body and blood (I'm not sure if I believed that His soul was present there, too, but I though it was actual flesh and blood, just "veiled").  After all, the ushers said "the body of Christ" and "the blood of Christ" as they handed it out, and I was very literally minded.  I also was fascinated with the idea of worship, of sacrifice, and before I began taking communion, I would pray on those Sundays, after church, that the bread and grape juice I drank would literally "be" Jesus for me; sometimes I would even go up to our attic, put those elements in a little wooden box with some burning incense and cover it up with a towel, praying before taking it out.  I'm not sure where I got those ideas - possibly from the Bible, possibly from some of the historical fiction my mother had read to use (such as Stephen Lawhead's Arthurian Chronicles, or Glastonbury, whose author I have forgotten).  Regardless, a belief in the real presence was there, long before I had actually seen that Presence in person.

Time went by, and before long, my mom decided she was ready to convert.  My response wasn't particularly positive - something along the lines of "fine, but don't expect me to go with you."  I'm not sure where my antagonism came from - maybe my inherent hatred of transitions and change, or maybe I sensed the waves of conflict that this would send through staunchly Protestant extended family (there really is nary a Catholic to be seen on either side, until you go back many generations, or into the second cousins and "once or twice removeds").  Regardless, I was happy to stay where I was, go to church with my dad, not leave the place I'd grown up attending.

I'm not sure when my attitude softened.  Lots of changes were taking place at the same time; the best friend that I had at the church and I began to grow apart, as she went off to a high school full of boys and dances and popularity, and I continued on the homeschool trajectory.  I do know that at some point (either before or after I stumbled on my mom's rosary and secretly prayed it, just to see what all this Catholic stuff was all about... I didn't really get it then, viewing it as some sort of magical prayer device, but I understand using it to meditated on Scripture a lot better now) I decided I would go to Mass with her one time.  I didn't expect it to change anything - I was a bit curious, and a bit feeling like I "should try and see" just to be fair.  Little did I know that that one time would change the whole direction of my life (and likely determine the man that I would eventually marry!)

That day, I met Jesus in the Eucharist.  There was a presence in the church that I had never felt anywhere else - a presence of peace, of love, of calming, and more importantly, a presence that I could feel was personal.  I knew it wasn't going to be easy, that there would be opposition, but that I wanted to keep going to that church where His Presence was, for the rest of my life.

I began attending RCIA that fall, and was received into the church at Easter Vigil of the following year, shortly before my 16th birthday.

Since then, everywhere I've traveled, and everywhere I've lived, I've never walked into a Catholic church and not felt His presence.  I have, however, walked into several Protestant churches and been shocked at the emptiness that I never felt before.  Don't get me wrong - these churches are full of joy, of witness, of song and praise - but there is still something missing, something still and small, and a place inside my heart that fills every time I see that tiny, flickering sanctuary light.

In the last 13 years, I've learned a lot about our Faith that I didn't know in the beginning.  I've learned a lot about myself, too, as the Sacraments have pushed me to grow.  In the same church where I made my profession of faith and received the Sacrament of Confirmation, my husband and I stood to be married, 12 years later; now we have a daughter to raise in the Faith, and hopefully more children to come.  I'm so glad to be Catholic, to have the Sacrament of Reconciliation, to receive the Eucharist, to worship every week at Mass!  There are many things I miss about being Protestant, still; I have yet to find a Catholic church where the music is as good, where the people are as friendly, where reading the Bible is expected and where living certain aspects of Christianity is just taken for granted.  Jesus wasn't joking when He talked about the wheat and the chaff within the Church!  However, all of these things are superficial next to the richness that is present.

I wouldn't change one step of the process, and am very grateful to see the Church through the eyes of conversion (though truthfully, every Christian sees the Faith through the eyes of conversion - we all stand in need of converting more and more every day, and I believe that basically everyone who passionately seeks after Christ could in some way classify as either "convert" or "revert" at work).  More than that, I am profoundly thankful to Jesus for revealing Himself in the Eucharist - for calling to my heart in such a way that I could hear.  Blessed be His Name!

8 comments:

Karen said...

Thank you for sharing! I love hearing stories about how someone came to the Catholic Church. And every one I've heard had the Eucharist as the defining moment. It is what makes the Catholic Church so special. And you are right about what many Protestant churches have that Catholic churches lack, and it's sad, because Catholics SHOULD have music that is not only good, but superior. (read some encyclicals and letters on Sacred Music!) And people should be friendly. And Catholics should be reading the bible. (again, read encyclicals!!) But they are sadly things that modern Catholics devalue. We need Protestants showing us how some things should be.

Josée said...

God is good :) Thanks for sharing your conversion story!

Anonymous said...

I'm a cradle Catholic, but I am still amazed at how every time I walk into a Catholic church I can feel His living presence. Even in my most trying, faithless times, all I need do is go before Jesus in the Eucharist and the world peels away until there is nothing but Him.

The child you yearning for the true body and blood of Christ is so sweet. What a beautiful story.

If you don't mind me asking, how was your faith affected (if at all) by the sex abuse scandals? I only ask because I know so many converts (including my mother) who felt completely betrayed and ended up leaving the church. For that matter I know cradle Catholics who left as well, but mostly converts.

Liz said...

Is there a paragraph that you accidentally edited out here? There looks like a gap before "That day I..."

I never knew about what you did in the attic. Man, the things I missed that went on right under my nose. Sister Ann always said that I raised you Catholic.

I knew about sex scandals in the Church before I converted. Not only had a priest who was formerly in our town been accused of having affairs with women and teenaged girls, but a friend of mine from my twenties had been seduced as a young adult by a homosexual priest, and a friend who was cradle Catholic left the Church after the priest in the parish she attended gave a homily defending homosexuality. In fact, the only people I know who've left over the scandals have been cradle Catholics. Having just read The Faithful Departed, I'll admit to some real sadness about the failures of the hierarchy, but the Church is more than it's institutional leadership at any one time. If the Gates of Hell did not prevail against the Church in the era of the Borgia popes then I think that we can be sure that the current failings of a significant number of bishops, and even cardinals won't destroy it either. St. John Chrysostom said that the road to Hell was paved with the skulls of bishops, so I guess it's not a new problem. Besides what would be the alternative? As Peter said, "to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life."

Abby said...

Good catch, Mom! yes, my apologies - I was writing part of that with LW in my lap and somewhere in her frequent keyboard banging, several sections got deleted :P I've filled in as best I could from memory what I'd originally had there!

Heddy - I have to say, I haven't really been all that shocked or had my faith shaken by the priest scandals. Growing up Protestant, I never expected my ministers to be anything other than human - and that attitude transitioned easily onto Catholic priests as well. In our diocese, I've had plenty of opportunities to see less than stellar priests (though mostly just ones with wacky theology or liturgical practices, or who always seem like they'd rather be doing something else than saying Mass). I've also met priests whom Christ shines through so clearly that it is easy to see what the priesthood is really supposed to be all about. Nothing really shakes up my faith in the Church - after all, as the disciples said to Jesus, "to whom else should we go? You have the words of eternal life". But I do get very sad and discouraged sometimes by fighting and corruption within the church, both lay and religious. I recently stumbled on this talk on the subject, which I thought had some very good points: http://www.ronrolheiser.com/common/pdf/scandal.pdf. I'm also reminded of a great quote that I can't seem to find anywhere at the moment - basically along the lines of "to be part of the Church is to be at the same time in the company of the vilest sinners of all time, and also history's greatest saints."

Anonymous said...

I completely agree with you (and your mother)-- how lovely you two have such a vibrant faith :).

Even though I was vastly disappointed in the human side of the Church when the scandals broke, leaving wasn't even an option for me. I have never gone to church for the clergy, wonderful (or awful) though some of them are. I go because, like you, whenever I step into a Catholic church (no matter where it is), I know I am in His presence and His church. I have never felt that way in a protestant church (as lively and friendly as they may be).

Great link, btw.

I totally understand how you managed to end up with deleted sections! LPK has just found the keyboard when I hold him while typing (he LOVES it)-- I'm seriously considering getting a second keyboard that he can pound on so he doesn't feel left out when I blog.

(And by "getting" I mean raiding my husbands stash of extras... sometimes it's nice to have a husband in the IT field).

Abby said...

Good luck with the second keyboard :) I tried that trick with LW because she was so unhappy sitting and playing with toys while I was working (on the computer or with printouts); it worked for about a day before she learned how to pull the keys off, thus ending her adventures due to the choking hazard. So look for one where the keys can't be tugged off :) LW pretty quickly figured out the difference between pounding on our computers (where something happens) and pounding on a keyboard by herself (where nothing happens). Sometimes she's too smart for her own, and our, good! Same thing with cellphones - she loves playing with ours, but letting her play with an old one with the battery taken out just isn't as fun.

Anonymous said...

I came to terms with the sex abuse scandals much like the rest of you. The Church--its doctrines, its traditions, everything--is an institution that is set apart from and untouchable by whoever its current leaders are. No matter what terrible evil is committed in its shadow, its everlasting truths ultimately remain unaffected. Nothing that men do can change the Word of God.

Also I was amused by your mention of BJU textbooks. It brought back memories. My mom also used BJU books to homeschool us, but as we were Catholic she would use a black marker to cross out the anti-Catholic portions before using allowing us to read them. I remember me and my sisters trying to guess what was under those marks and wondering why exactly they had been censored.