I was raised as a Protestant. I am so grateful and thankful for the loving foundation in Christianity that my parents laid. When I look back on my upbringing at the Disciples of Christ Church in Bonner Springs, Kansas, I recall it as mostly a positive experience.
One of the holiest men I have ever known was our pastor. For nearly all of my most important early-life events, he was an active participant: my baptism, my marriage, and the blessing of our first daughter, Rhianna. When asked who is a major player in my religious formation, I always say his name. He is such a good, loving, Christ-like man, and I am blessed to know him.
During my childhood, the only exposure I had to Catholicism was through my best friend. Every once in a while, when I spent the night at her house on Saturday, I would attend Mass with her family the following morning. It seemed to me, as a young child, that Catholics liked to exercise—I had a hard time keeping up with all the kneeling, standing, and sitting. I didn’t get too involved as I was told that Catholics were a cult, that they worshipped Mary and statues, and that they didn’t let their people read the Bible. I didn’t fully understand these things, but through idea osmosis, I adopted these beliefs.
A Catholic husband
But God has a sense of humor, doesn’t He? At 21 years old, I deemed myself all-wise in the Protestant and Catholic departments. I believed there was nothing new anyone could teach me–I knew all. Yet, “If any one among you considers himself wise in this age, let him become a fool so as to become wise” (1 Cor. 3:18).
So I went and fell in love with a Catholic. When we were first together, I gave it no thought. In college, both of us had fallen away from going to church, and we didn’t really speak about it much, so it was a non-factor until we married. Having our daughter started to change our lukewarm hearts, and we felt the need to go to church.
But what church? My husband, Dustin, wanted to remain Catholic, I wanted to remain Protestant. And so we fought. Correction—I fought. I spewed out all the things I thought were wrong about the Catholic Church at Dustin, and he remained calm, patient, and loving. He countered every single one of my untruths. Soon, there was nothing I could say. He had an answer for everything. I was so frustrated, but I refused to concede. That would mean that I was wrong. That would mean that I had believed in untruths, and the thought was humiliating. Pride is a strong sin.
So we tried church shopping. One week we would go to a Protestant church, the next week a Catholic church. This grew old quickly. Eventually, I made a deal with Dustin, since it was so important to him that he remain Catholic: I agreed that we could attend a Catholic church, but I would under no condition convert. So, in Ohio, we started going to St. Helen’s.
It took nine years into our marriage for me to desire to become Catholic. Believe me, the desire became overwhelming. Never once did Dustin ask or pressure me to convert. The change of my heart came slowly, but now, looking back, I can see how little by little God chipped away at the hard barrier around my heart.
I learned that everything I had once believed about Catholicism was wrong. Sadly, I had never taken the time to really explore the truth. I had just gone along with the tidbits of misinformation that I had picked up in my life. It was a lesson in the importance of striving to search for truth. It was embarrassing to know that I had been so very wrong, but I am grateful for the humbling experience.
A trinity of reasons
There are three main reasons I wanted to become Catholic:
1. It is the first church, the Church that Jesus built upon Peter. The history is there, and I can’t dispute it. If this was the Church founded by the apostles at the very beginning, then that is where I want to be. The history is rich, intriguing, mysterious, and supernatural. Again and again, I am left in awe as I continue to explore the only Christian church that has been around for 2,000 years.
2. It has ignited a flame in me. The beauty of Catholicism has brought me closer to Jesus in numerous ways. Never before have I engaged myself in a relationship with Jesus to this degree. I see now that I cannot limit this relationship simply to Sunday mornings at church. Where once I thought the call to holiness was lame and outdated, I realize that it is God’s will for my life. It is the greatest challenge in this life, and it gives purpose.
3. The Eucharist. Mass is not about the homily. It’s not about the singing. It’s not about who’s present or who’s doing what. It’s all about that moment that I come forward and get to be united with Jesus. It provides my strength for the week. I can tell when I have missed it. It is why, when on vacation, I cannot miss church.
When I was a Protestant attending a Catholic Church, I couldn’t partake in it, and I longed to receive it. There is a difference. Trust me, as a Protestant who used to receive communion as a symbolic gesture, to a Catholic who now receives it as the body and blood of Jesus, there is a difference. It is supernatural, life giving, and my food for the journey.
One of my favorite Catholic writers says often, “There is genius in Catholicism.” I couldn’t agree with him more, and I am therefore compelled to share it. There are three major events in my life that have changed me for the better: marrying Dustin, the births of my children, and the day I became Catholic.