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The Nature of Grace
A Conversion Story
By Adam Janke
Dedication
To everyone who has befriended me on this journey.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 2004
The Nature of Grace
By Adam Janke
Crede, ut intelligas - St. Augustine
1.
I’ve
sat down to write this story, probably a hundred times, and never could
get much written down. I just didn’t know where to begin to tell
a story. Mind you, I’ve written hundreds of essays all thanks to
a high school English teacher who would make us write an essay every
single day of the week, and that was just the regular day work. We
loved that English teacher to death, because he was one of the few
people in the world to show genuine care for each and every student in
the classroom. He would make us write until our fingers fell off, but
he took the time to make sure he not only gave us a grade, but to teach
us something about life, and to help us realize just who it was we are.
He taught us to not be afraid to express ourselves openly and honestly,
to discover, as it may be, who we were to become.
So
this story will be about who I am. Where I came from, and how I found
out just who I was meant to be. I was born and baptized into to the
Roman Catholic Church. Like all young Catholic children I attended CCD
classes. All I can remember of them now is that I was bored out of my
mind and couldn’t wait to get home so I could get into my
PJ’s and watch TV before going to bed. Then, like all good
Catholic children I made my first communion. But that is about where it
ended.
My
mom, being single, met my soon to be dad at her place of employment
with the city of Grand Rapids, MI and as soon as we did get married I
was taken out of the Catholic Church and we became Lutheran. My mom
told me that she was very angry with the Catholic Church for something
bad that had happened and was more than happy to become Lutheran. I
wasn’t really sure about all this, but hey, I followed my mom
where she went. The Lutheran Church wasn’t all that much
different than the Catholic Church. Everything about it was still
boring to an 8 year old. As far as I was concerned I was missing some
pretty darn good cartoons.
So
growing up we were mostly what you would call “Sunday
Christians”. I was part of a decent, law abiding, middle-class
family. My dad, who while I never let it slip was and still is my hero,
worked hard, spent every April 15th trying to finish the
taxes usually making it to the Post office around 11:58 at night. My
younger brothers whom I came to have three of them (when all my mom
wanted was a daughter) were a hand full, but I loved them. We formed a
“Dalmatian Club” after watching 101 Dalmatians too many
times, held secret meetings in tents made out of bed sheets and went on
adventures in the back yard. The only time church ever mingled in our
daily lives was three times a year when grace was said at dinner during
Christmas, Thanksgiving, and Easter. This is though what I can recall.
Church
really always was somewhat of a drag. There were not many kids my age,
and then we only met on Sunday mornings sometimes. There were always
groups of kids of families that had gone there for generations and the
rest of us were pretty much excluded and on our own. I had seen strong
fellowship in other churches among all the kids, and I wanted to
experience that too. As far as I was concerned, for a time, the best
part of going to church was the punch and cookies after the service
during the summer.
Around
the time I was in high school I became ever increasingly interested in
the scriptures. I remember opening a Bible that I had been given in
Church many years ago one evening in my bedroom and thinking “I
wonder just what is in here.” I started off by reading Matthew
and a couple of the Pauline epistles becoming ever increasingly
interested in what I was reading. Then I tried to find all the old time
stories of Moses, Abraham, Daniel, Job, and Jonah that I remembered
from Church and Sunday school.
As
I got more interested in the scriptures, I also got more interested in
going to church and trying to get involved. I became an acolyte (those
kids who lit and extinguished the candles at the beginning and end of
the service) and then got involved as a lector, and then as the liturgy
assistant, who played a major part in Sunday worship. I signed up every
chance I could get, sometimes twice a month, leaving little room at
times for others. The older folks in the church didn’t seem to
mind one bit, seeing someone so young so excited about helping in the
church service.
Finally
I was approached by a leader in the church and asked to be the youngest
member ever to join the church council. While I was excited at the
opportunity, and like all young teenagers, I already knew everything
there was to know, I was pretty unsure about this role. Pressed into
though I said I would try my best. I went to my first meeting with a
notepad and pencil in hand ready and willing to give my input. I wanted
to fall asleep after about 5 minutes.
While
a teenager can be a very helpful person, no teenager gives a hoot about
spending money on fixing a roof or repaving the parking lot. I was on
fire about the Sunday service and ready to talk about doctrine, but I
didn’t want a thing to do with going over grammatical corrections
in last month’s minutes.
I
also didn’t like the fact that I had been told I would only have
to attend one 2 hour meeting once a month for a two year term, and it
turned out I would be attending one 4 hour meeting a month, be sitting
on two different committees that met once a month, and would have to
help count the offering money every week after church 2 months out of
the year (a process that lasted much longer than any feisty
youngin’ wanted to sit there for when there were battles to be
won on the computer games at home.
For
all this though, I was happy doing what I was in church, I also got
involved in the youth groups yearly missions trips with a nationwide
nondenominational group called “Workcamp” where we would
spend one week helping repair homes for the disadvantaged. It became
the highlight of every year for me. At one Workcamp I met my first real
crush who I would get to kiss on the cheek and make as my official
first girl friend by the time the week was done. My young love life is
a story for another book though; one I hope will never be written or
told.
Perhaps
life would have gone on and I would have ended up a Lutheran minister
as I was interested in the religious life and had checked out books on
the process of becoming ordained in the Lutheran Church and had signed
up to attend Concordia University in Ann Arbor, MI. As fate would have
it though I had a habit of reading my Bible during free time at school,
as some other students began to notice.
One
day a fellow student who I sat next to in math class noticed I had been
bringing the Bible to school (which really was one of those hardback
Bibles which churches generally had in the pews, not so much a study
Bible). I only knew him as being the brains in the classroom (he would
graduate valedictorian of the class). He asked me if I was interested
in attending a Bible study held once a week at the school and mentioned
he would be happy to introduce me to everyone and mentioned something
about food. Now food was one thing that I couldn’t refuse.
Thus
I met with First Priority Bible Study every Tuesday afternoon when
school was out. I had never heard the word Fundamentalist before, but I
was about to receive a very fast education. All I had ever knew about
these “Baptists” I learned from a student when I was in
junior high on a bus in the morning. This young man claimed to be
Baptist and taught me that matter didn’t really exist and that I
couldn’t prove there was any sidewalk outside, or the seat I was
sitting on was real. I told him to leave me alone, and naturally he did
anything but leave me alone. As far as I was concerned he was an idiot.
I
enjoyed the Bible study because it gave me fellowship with other
students that I sorely desired and needed since I really didn’t
have any friends other than one I had made in junior high who was quite
the trouble maker. (Later in life when I became suicidal, it likely
saved my life to know that I did have some friends who cared about me.)
I loved the praise time because I had never heard praise music before
and the songs really spoke to my heart and gave me great feelings.
After
going to the Bible study for a while, the leader who was the student
who invited me noticed I was really on fire to reading the Bible and
wanted to be involved more. So he invited me to be on the leadership
team for the Bible study that met once a month and discussed how we
could reach out to more students. This is one leadership position that
I was much better suited for than sitting on a business church council.
As
the classes went on I formed a strong relationship with the leader,
enter one Eric Schroeder, Bible nut extraordinaire. Since then we have
become and remained best friends. He helped challenge me to look at
every aspect of my faith, and what I held to be true. Around this time
I also formed “Flyfree Ministries” to express those beliefs
online and form fellowship with others of similar beliefs.
Eric
and I would have long late night discussions about the Bible and about
our beliefs, lasting sometimes more than four hours into the early
hours of the morning. My dad was not too fond of the phone being tied
up, especially when it wasn’t with a girl, and I ended up with my
own phone line, and subsequently ended up addicted to the Internet.
One
evening while Eric and I talked we invited each other to our churches
to visit and learn what it was like in a different atmosphere. At this
point I thought I had it made pretty good in the church I was in. I
loved the liturgy, the sites, sounds, and smells and loved being in a
leadership position so often. Eric visited and didn’t seem to be
too impressed, though found it interesting. When I went to my first
Baptist service I found myself surprised that it was over so quickly. I
was into the music, then there was some time of prayer, and then the
pastor gave a good sermon, but suddenly that was it. The service was
over. I had to inquire, “Just what happened to the
Eucharist?”
I
learned at this point that they had a remembrance service one a month
in the evening to celebrate “The Lord’s Supper”.
During this service, I was told, they followed what Jesus had commanded
them to do and make a symbolic remembering of the final hours Jesus
spent on earth. I was told it was completely symbolic and was also
taught for the first time what an ordinance was and why they avoided
calling it a sacrament. I really felt something was amiss about all of
this. More on that later though.
The
Bible study and visits to a Baptist church was the beginning for me of
my split with the liturgy of the Lutheran church. The Baptist church
focused, more on biblical exegesis during the service, which is what I
was into, and had praise songs that I loved. It was enough that I
wanted to visit more Baptist Churches and see if they were similar. I
was on a quest. I ended up visiting several Baptist, Methodist, and
Christian Reformed churches, and even threw in a visit to a Catholic
church for all fairness sake. I ended up attending Trinity Baptist for
a while, and then Berean Baptist, followed by North Park Baptist where
I finally made my home.
In
all of my long drawn out discussions about the Bible with my best
friend I began to see the logic behind the Fundamental movement. On the
grounds of Faith Alone and Bible Alone and Christ Alone we agreed
completely, so Eric pondered, why then would be baptize infants when
they cannot express or have faith in Christ? This really struck a cord
with me because I remember helping with infant baptisms and remember
thinking “Wow, I’m watching God work through this minister
to break the bonds of sin on this child”. It’s what made me
want to become a minister in the first place.
I
tried my best to argue it from my from a bible alone standpoint, but it
just didn’t seem to fit right. It ended up being the doctrine
that would finally lead me out of the Lutheran Church. The services I
attended had me contemplating “Am I really saved? Am I really
going to heaven? One evening in high school at home in my room I
remember standing by my dresser praying something along the lines of
“God I am so frustrated right now, more than anything I want to
always love you and do your will for my life. I don’t know where
you are leading me, but I’m ready to follow wherever you lead me.
And God I believe that I am saved, I trust you, and I’ve always
had faith in Jesus for my salvation, as long as I can remember, but
I’m told a lot that I need to receive you in prayer by praying a
sinners prayer, so God just in case, I want to say now that I do accept
you, and I do believe in you, Jesus be my savior, you have all of my
trust, I trust in you in faith alone.”
Being
the ignorant teenager I was I wanted to “cover all of my
bases” that night. While theologically Baptists and Lutherans
alike would argue what I was doing, I was sincere about it. Some would
argue that it was at that point that I was saved, but I admit being
even more frustrated after praying that because I didn’t feel any
different, and I still really believed that I was saved all along, and
that if it was a prayer that was needed to be saved, it had been done
long, long ago, perhaps even when I was a Catholic.
While
this prayer was a major step away from my liturgical faith, it did not
seal it. It was at this time that I stopped going to a Lutheran church
for good, even though I didn’t know at the time that would be the
end of attending such a church. Since I was attending the youth group
every Sunday at the Baptist church, and loving the fellowship I was
finally getting I accepted every invitation that was extended to join
in at extra activities Sunday evenings, whether they be pool parties or
just fun get-togethers.
Then
Eric approached me during the summer one year and asked me if I wanted
to attend a short-term (weekend) mission trip to Dayton, OH to visit an
inner city church. I thought, hey why not, I was used to going on
mission trips around the country for a week at a time. This of course
would be much different with a purely evangelical motive for the trip.
The
evening we arrived at the church the pastor, a very loving exuberant
man invited us to go to the best pizza place he had ever been to. When
we got to the parking place in downtown Dayton we paid for the
attendant for the parking and started walking to the parlor when the
pastor, Pastor Mann promptly turned around and started asking the
attendant about Jesus. This was my first witness of a person trying to
“save” another.
The
man was a Methodist who said he believed in Jesus and had faith in Him.
The pastor pressed on though asking him “If tonight he wanted to
be absolutely sure he would go to heaven when he died”. The man
said yes he did, so, oh so naturally, the pastor looked at me
and told me to start the group off in prayer. My heart skipped a few
beats and I broke out into a cold sweat, but how could I refuse to
pray? I stumbled my way through a prayer and then the pastor helped the
man through the “sinner’s prayer”. The pastor then
spoke with the man a little longer to give him information for the
church.
We
walked away, and I walked a little slower then the rest of the crowd.
Dan Dundore, the group leader came up to me noting that I was still
Lutheran and put his arm around me telling me would could discuss it
more later that night, clearly a little frustrated with the pastor that
I had been put on the spot in such a way.
That
night was spent in a church that was still somewhat under construction,
being converted from a bar in the middle of a neighborhood where
prostitutes walked. We were protected though in upper rooms which was
locked by a door with a security alarm on it. I however could not
sleep. I was kept up with conflicting feelings for my love the liturgy,
a driving force that felt denominationalism was intrinsically evil
pursuant to Christ’s prayer for unity, and a longing to be with
my friends in the Baptist church, the only people outside my family who
had really openly accepted me.
I
went over and over Bible verses in my mind, and over and over
everything about infant baptism and believers baptism Eric and I had
discussed. I prayed, I thought, I read the Bible, and basically
realized I wasn’t getting any sleep. Most of all I just
didn’t want to deal with the confusion anymore. At this point I
had critiqued Martin Luther’s works, and disagreed with much of
it on a “Bible Alone” stand, and I had read a lot about
Baptist beliefs. By about 4 in the morning I made decision that I
needed to be re-baptized. It may have had something to do with the need
for acceptance from my peers, some to do with it really was a logical
conclusion to being protestant and believing in the five solas, and
some to do with my love for the community that the fundamental churches
had formed.
After
deciding it was God’s will in my life to become Baptist, I went
back upstairs and woke up my best friend to tell him. I believe it was
one of those few times he really didn’t mind being dragged out of
his sleep as he laid there with a big grin on his face. On the long
drive back home, I realized I would have to tell my parents.
My
mom wasn’t happy with the idea at all. In fact, along this whole
journey towards the Baptist church my best friends family was forbidden
from picking me up at my house. I had to walk a block and wait for them
for a ride. I knew that she prayed for me every evening, and this was
the last thing she wanted. It got to the point that we could not talk
about religion at all. I had not yet learned to approach others that
disagreed with me without being confrontational, and it was just too
hard for her.
During
this period after making the decision to become Baptist, but having not
yet gone through the motions at the church, I kept studying the Bible,
double time, and made an official notice to my Lutheran Church that I
would not be coming back. Many good folks were very heartbroken that
they had lost another young student from the church. Especially when I
was someone who so deeply involved in so many ways in the church.
I
also become more involved online. I broke off from a “free
site” for Flyfree Ministries and registered my own domain and
started expanding it from a “blog” site to a website which
contained a great deal of theological data. I also left the Lutheran
board I was on and found a Baptist message board to be a part of.
During my time on this board I made over 5,000 posts became a
moderator, and made and lost several friends. It was also incidentally
this board that would lead me onto my next journey in my faith life.
My
entrance into the Baptist church was one of great joy, and great
mourning. I was re-baptized on September 9, 2001, just two days before
the worst tragedy the nation has ever seen on American soil. While on
one hand I was rejoicing in doing what I believed was what God wanted
and what I desired so much, it was a very hard time at home as I was
losing touch with my family, and at the time the most important woman
in my life – my mom. She had been there through so much in my
life, and it tore me to pieces inside to see her so sad and hurt at my
decision.
As
a new Baptist I was dedicated to going to church every Sunday morning
and most evenings, and attending Bible study on Wednesdays at times. I
spent a lot of time at Family Christian stores buying up Christian
music, books, and new Bibles. I still have the first Bible I ever read
in depth on my shelf (a NSRV) and the Bible I had been given for
Christmas one year (a NIV study Bible), but opted for the KJV as I had
been taught in my new fundamentalist faith that it was the best
translation to use. I never became a KJVO for those that know what that
means, but strongly advocated its use. The authors that occupied my
shelves were Max Lucado, Charles Ryrie, Lee Strobel, Joshua McDowell,
Charles Stanley, Billy Graham, James MacArther, James McCarthy, among
others.
It
probably bears telling at this point in the story that at this time I
had found my future better half. Actually, I met Teresa in first
priority, the Bible study I attended in high school, but at the time, I
wasn’t interested in her. Frankly, she was weird. I feel horrible
now though knowing that at the time she had an interest in me and I
mainly tended to ignore her. Being a man, I was completely stupid on
all things having to do with women and didn’t even realize she
had any interest in me. Also, to show my complete stupidity I dated a
young freshman girl (I was a senior, talk about robbing the cradle) who
was desperate to have a boyfriend to get into the Junior/ Senior
dances. Unfortunately this young woman stole my first kiss with a girl,
which I will never forgive myself for allowing her to do so. I
completely embarrassed myself when I was with her and even had the gull
to go on a date as friends with another girl while I was dating her,
hurting my friend who I was out with.
After
this incident I had two other fleeting relationships, both for selfish
purposes. And with both of these young woman I was convincing my
parents that I was becoming Baptist because they were Baptist.
Thankfully these relationships didn’t last long. And thankfully
they taught me valuable lessons about the female sex and how I should
treat them.
I
finally got to know my beloved when we both were working at a local
grocery store. She had come back from basic training and worked bagging
groceries while I was cashiering (she would prove to me once and for
all how much smarter woman are than men by being promoted two times
above me in the course of the 9 months we worked there). We became
acquainted with each other better at the store and I decided to show my
newfound affection for her by tearing off small pieces or receipt paper
out of the cash register and throw them at her when no one was looking.
Now a logical person would find this practice to be unusually mean.
Teresa certainly did. She reacted by throwing paper back. Let this be a
lesson to us men. When the woman throws paper back it does not mean
they are flirting with us. Especially when they have a scowl on their
face. She thought I was being a jerk and responded, as she thought was
appropriate.
I
did eventually write her asking her if she wanted to go out (second
clue to men: don’t write letters, just talk to her). She thought
about it and responded that she was willing to give it a try. We ended
up dating for about four months. The relationship ended up being more
physical than anything else and we did not bond well. Teresa broke up
with me at Cheshire Restaurant one afternoon. To this day I refuse to
go back into that restaurant with her.
After
several more months we ended up starting to talk again, and eventually
formed a friendship. Then she made probably her biggest mistake if she
never wanted to date me again, and she had written me telling me she
would never date me again even if I was the last male on the planet.
She tried to set me up to date a friend of hers. Oh, how that
backfired. I really had no interest in her friend but agreed to go on a
date or two. As time was going on we became close friends again and
then one evening found ourselves in my room holding watching a movie
holding hands. We looked at each other both wondering “what is
going on?” We sat there and talked most of the night about our
close friendship and how much we had grown back together again. We
decided to take things on a different approach and to give up
conventual dating for somewhat of a “courtship”. We would
continue to be friends, but we would be exclusive and would not date
anyone else. We would not kiss or make out unless if we got married.
And we agreed the only reason we should be in the relationship is to
eventually get married if that is where the Lord would lead us.
After
eleven months of courting and endlessly hearing that my to be’s
ring finger was lonely, I made a trip to Herkner Jewelers where my dad
had purchased my moms engagement ring. And in a strange circle of fate,
the jeweler ended up remembering me as his favorite cashier at the
local grocery store and let me pick out the single most beautiful
diamond I could find for my wife and cut the price in half so I could
afford it. Then on a date that no one knew about except me, I took my
wife miniature golfing, to her favorite restaurant for her favorite
meal, and then walked with her in the park downtown to give her the
ring I picked out. After taking probably too much time to pick a
secluded place to ask her since the place I had picked out
wouldn’t work, I got down on one knee. I looked into my
girlfriends’ eyes, read her a short mushy letter I had written
and asked her to marry me holding out the diamond ring I had bought.
She said yes.
11 months after that we got married on August 1st,
2003 in our Baptist church by the pastor who had re-baptized me, and
have been happily married since. Well, most of the time anyway.
2.
With
that part of the story out of the way we can continue on the spiritual
part. At this point I was a happily married Baptist, a full time employ
with Family Christian Stores in their nationwide warehouse center, and
was ready to continue on with life.
I
spent the vast majority of my free time reading and contributing online
to the Baptist message board I was part of. My favorite forum on the
board was the “Other Denominations/ Religions” area. And my
favorite pastime was debate. Now that I was a Baptist I was ready to
and willing to pull out a sword and throw around Bible verses to prove
any point I could make. We had a large variety of people from those who
practiced Wicca, to people who were quite close to the Baptist faith on
the website. And we had a couple of Catholics.
The
Catholics particularly interested me because their faith made no sense
to me. I had come from a Lutheran background, and understood what was
wrong with that faith, so it seemed it would be easy to bring these
Catholics to an understanding of what the Bible said and convert them.
I never looked at them as not being saved, as I thought I was saved
throughout my Lutheran childhood, but nonetheless, they had to be in
error. I was in for some major education and would learn that perhaps,
just perhaps, I didn’t know it all and things in the Bible
weren’t quite as they had seemed.
The
Catholics that came to our Baptist board came as brave souls, something
I have always given them credit for. They were by far outnumbered and
among us, were some highly intelligent scholars, some of who seemed to
specialize in anti-Catholicism. I myself tried to take the approach
with these Catholics that I was there both to listen to them and their
stories to show friendship and to try my best to teach when what was
written in God’s Word.
Now
I was not so naïve to think that they had never studied the Word
of God before as some anti-Catholics would assert that no Catholic
reads the Bible. After all, as a Lutheran we heard the scriptures every
Sunday during the service, and I had become interested in what the
Bible said on my own. I just figured like myself, Catholics needed a
little guidance in understanding the true meaning of the scriptures,
and to take out any traditional teachings they may have been taught.
As
I began to challenge the Catholics who came us, and as they began to
challenge us with their understanding of the Holy Scriptures, I, like
so many others before me quickly discovered that the stereotypes I had
been taught about Catholics were father from the truth than I could
have at first imagined. I discovered that Catholics did not worship
statues, nor did they worship Mary as I had once thought they did. I
discovered they did not believe the rosary was a magical charm, nor the
scapular would automatically save them, nor that they believed the pope
was sinless.
Having
some of these common misconceptions blown out of the water wasn’t
something too new to me. I had after all had to lay aside
misunderstandings about the Baptist church before I ever joined that. I
agreed to meet the terms that the Catholics wanted to set out –
that I would not continue to perpetuate any myths about the Catholic
Church if I learned that they were indeed myths. It surely seemed fair
enough – I would not want a Catholic to perpetuate myths about
the Baptist Church. Unfortunately I was one of few Baptists who agreed
to this as we debated. Often fundamentalists are so dead set against
the Catholic Church and have been taught lies about her for so long,
they cannot see the Church in any other light, short the miraculous
grace of God.
And
so I set out to listen to my new Catholic friends to find out: just
what is it that Catholics believe? How can a Catholic say that they
believe in the Bible and have faith in Christ and yet still remain a
Catholic? Could all of the things that the Catholic Church claimed
about herself possibly be true? Was it the one true Church? I surely
didn’t think so. I had studied Mormonism and the Jehovah Witness
faith, both claiming to be the one true Churches, and both proving to
be pseudo-Christianity.
I
will say now, that in my own journey studying this faith I had at my
hands some of the most intelligent, faithful, lay Catholics in the
country. This included one young man who was studying at Franciscan
University in Steubenville, OH for his masters, Carson Weber who at the
time was an assistant to one of the most well known Bible teachers and
scholars in the country, Dr. Scott Hahn. At the time I didn’t
know just how intelligent these young Catholic men and woman were, but
I would quickly learn.
We
will discuss all of the theological and philosophical issues that were
discussed in a later chapter. First though I want to lead you through
more of my journey, to a point shortly before I decided that the claims
of the Catholic Church were indeed true.
As
I mentioned as a Baptist member of this Baptist board I was one of the
very few who were willing to not just debate, but to openly learn about
Catholicism from Catholics themselves. At first I figured this way I
would forge stronger friendships and be able to in the long run bring
them into a “Bible Believing Church”. And I would be able
to say that I truly understood Catholicism for what it is instead of
basing my conclusions off of false teachings that other fundamentalists
passed around.
I
spent a great deal of time asking as many questions as I could, asking
them to clarify why they thought their interpretation made more sense
than our Baptist understanding of the scriptures. I was bewildered at
how much sense it did make even though I disagreed with it. I tried my
best to get into their heads and understand their views on Mary, the
Saints, justification and salvation, the papacy, education, confession,
communion, purgatory and so many other issues that divide us.
Especially those tenants that we held so dear and as so basic to the
faith: faith alone, Bible alone, grace alone, scriptures alone, glory
of God alone.
Carson
Weber and others, while believing in the power of Tradition, were
willing to accommodate us and stick with the scriptures only while
teaching us about their doctrine and where it was founded in the
scriptures. This is crucial to the witness of Catholics to
Fundamentalists. If Fundamentalists hold to the Bible Alone as
doctrine, then it makes little sense to spend much time with the
Tradition or the early Church Fathers when they will just say that
these two approaches cannot ultimately prove anything.
As
I took the time to learn more about Catholicism I found myself on the
flip side defending Catholic doctrine as Catholic doctrine to those who
would attack the Church on misconceptions. For instance, if someone
were to claim “Catholics worship Mary” I would be willing
to say “While I disagree with the emphasis they do place on Mary,
I certainly must defend them in saying that they do not worship Mary,
nor has that ever been taught in the Catholic Church, at least in any
official capacity”.
I
believe perhaps that this is how a turning towards the Catholic Church
happens for many people. They find out that some of what they thought
about the Catholic Church is not true, and in a call to intellectual
honesty will attempt to correct others who push such false views. They
find themselves literally defending the Church when they are yet apart
from the Church and disagree with the doctrines of the Church.
It’s a real eye opener.
At
this point in time I have many Baptists on the Internet start to worry
about me. I really didn’t understand why as I was only defending
what is intellectually true. Also at this time I had gone beyond only
learning about Catholics from other Catholics but to also read Catholic
books, to gain a deeper appreciation for what they were telling me.
Some felt I was dabbling in very serious error and I could get sucked
into false doctrine. I certainly agreed that it could be dangerous if
false to read too much of one view without getting the opposing view.
Thus I also read expressly anti-Catholic literature much of which is
published by Harvest House, Banner of Truth, and P&R publishing.
These books did not only hold to non-Catholic views but expressly
attacked the Catholic Church calling her teachings damnable. Among the
authors and books are “Roman Catholicism” by Lorianne
Boettner; “Catholicism and Christianity” by Jimmy Swaggart;
“The Gospel According” to Rome by James McCarthy;
“Letters Between a Catholic and an Evangelical” by James
McCarthy; “Faith Alone” by R.C. Sproul; as well as the
writings of the Protestant Reformers Martin Luther, John Calvin, and
Ulrich Zwingli. I am thankful to all of those, Catholic and Protestant,
who so willingly sent me material to study.
To
mention though all of the Catholic material that I read on my journey,
there is just far too much to mention it all. While I will talk about
more of it later, the most notable were the documents from the 21
general Church councils, a portion of the code of canon law, writings
by the current Pope, including Crossing the Threshold of Hope, the
Catechism, writings by Scott Hahn, John Hardon, Stephan Ray, Karl Adam,
St. Thomas Aquinas, St. Augustine, Rev. Peter Stravinskas, Robert
Sungensis, Karl Keating, and Christopher West.
I
started off reading the material such as “Rome, Sweet,
Home” and “The Lambs Supper” merely in interest of
discovering what it was that made a Catholic tick. I ended up agreeing
with far more than I was comfortable with. It eventually came to the
point where the material presented by the Catholics on our board became
so convincing there were those Baptists who were seriously considering
leaving the Baptist faith for the Catholic faith. At the time I was not
one of those. The administration of this group was rattled enough
though that a mass banning of all Catholics who defended their faith
and believed it was true would take place soon.
One
person, Dustin Sieber, invited me to his Catholic forum to continue my
education. He openly warned me though that those who went to his
website tended to end up converting to the Catholic faith. I laughed,
and said “uh-huh sure” and went over to his website to meet
more Catholics and learn more about the faith. This website ended up
being home to the only known published Catholic Hip-Hop group called
“Phatmass” (thus the name of the website www.phatmass.com).
Where I also met my first priest, who just happened to rap. Oh my.
I’m
convinced today that about 80% of the problems between Catholics and
Fundamentalists are cultural. We just don’t understand each other
and often use different words to say the same thing. If not that
problem, we must simply get past the words themselves that are so often
tied to strong stereotypes. When I say “purgatory” most
fundamentalists freak out. When we get to the concept and meaning of
purgatory, it isn’t so bad. If I say “We are cleansed, or
purified of the temporal effect of sin before we enter heaven to be
made totally holy before God wherein there shall be no more inclination
to sin or tears”, hey were pretty much in agreement. Well, that
is what purgatory is. Purgatory= to purge = to make clean. It really
does take a whole paradigm shift to gain an appropriate understanding
of each faith.
Coming
to this new website gave me more of a cultural education for me than it
did to convince me of anything on a theological level. I met many
wonderful, beautiful Catholics, who were humble in their ways and
showed a deep level of commitment to and faith in Jesus Christ. Some of
those had relationships deeper than I had ever seen before in any
Church. It was truly humbling to my own soul. They had something I
desired deeply it seemed. A depth and unity to the Christian faith I
had never experienced before in any liturgical or reformed church. Part
of me felt, deep down, that perhaps this just might be the answer to my
long discontent with the denominationalism I had thus far lived in.
The
prospect of finding an answer to the old denomination question was too
much to pass up. In his book “The Courage to be Catholic”
George Wiegel notes:
"The Catholic Church is not a denomination - an institution whose form is defined by the will of its members - but a Church
- a community whose basic structure and boundaries are defined, once
and for all, by the will of Christ. For the Church is the Body of
Christ, and those who are ordained to act in persona Christi, exercise headship in the Body, the Church."
And
in John 17 Jesus prays “Holy father, protect them in your name
that you have given me, so that they may be one, as we are one. While I
was with them, I protected them in your name that you had given
me” (v. 11-12). This idea hit me hard enough that I decided I
once and for all had to study the Catholic faith with the intention of
deciding if it was God’s will in my life for me to join her.
I
decided to make a list of doctrines, all the major doctrines that
Catholics and Fundamentalists disagreed on, and to call out the
Catholic Church on their promises to see if they were true, or merely a
bluff. Each time I could reconcile a doctrine with scripture, and each
time I could reconcile a belief such as the teachings on tradition and
canon law, I would move it from a column of those beliefs I still
protested to that which I could now trust in. If at the end of my study
I was left with a single doctrine that was contrary to the teaching of
the scriptures, I could call the Catholic Church on their promise that
no doctrinal or moral teaching was ever in error. And if I could find a
single doctrine in history in which the Catholic Church has officially
changed positions on (and not just merely developed a position on) I
could also call them out on that, and fully understand that the
Catholic Church is not what it claims to be.
By
this time I had been banned from the Baptist board I visited for
teaching in defense of Catholicism even though I was still against the
idea of anyone becoming Catholic out of a Protestant Church. And my
newfound Catholic friends also encouraged me on my quest. Several even
came to me in private and said they would welcome ultimate proof the
Church was not the true Church Christ founded, because admittedly it is
harder to be a Catholic than a Fundamentalist.
The
battle was on. For all the reading I had done, I had a lot more to do.
My wife and Baptist friends were worried about this search, this
challenge, because it could very well mean that I could end up
Catholic. For those that were stuck with all of their old
misconceptions about the Catholic Church, it was a dangerous thought
indeed. If by becoming Catholic someone were to give up salvation by
grace through faith in Jesus Christ to salvation by being good people
and doing good works, and were to give up worship in God for worship to
men and demons, then yes, joining Catholicism is a horrifying thought.
And most of the Catholics I know today would be the first to denounce
the Catholic faith.
What
does one think of when they walk up to a Catholic Church? For the first
time in a long time I stood in front of the doors to the sanctuary at
St. Isidore Catholic Church. Inside my mind I constantly wondered, am I
really going off the deep end? Have I really totally lost it? I
wasn’t convinced that I hadn’t. I know that at this point
the grace of God had totally taken over because for as much as I do
know, at this point in the story, I’m one sad lost little puppy.
I
showed up for a Saturday evening mass one day not really sure what I
was doing there, but hoping maybe if I sat through a mass again some
answers may come to mind. I sat in the back pew of the church, Bible
gripped to my chest (to ward off demons perhaps?), watching everyone
file in slowly. As they entered their pews everyone took the time to
kneel and make the sign of the cross. They then knelt down in the pew
and said a few prayers. There wasn’t much talking, actually there
really wasn’t any talking before the service started. How odd.
Even when I was a Lutheran I remembered before the liturgical services
everyone still fellowshipped. In this case though all eyes were on the
front of the room- towards the cross, and the God-man who had died for
their sins.
Suddenly
music started and the priest walked to the front of the church with the
lector and two alter boys. The priest then made the sign of the cross
announcing “In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the
Holy Spirit” and greeted the congregation. Nothing really seemed
amiss so far.
Then the priest lead the people in a time of confession using the words:
I
confess to almighty God, and to you my brothers and sisters, that I
have sinned through my own fault. In my thoughts and in my words, In
what I have done and what I have failed to do; and I ask the Blessed
Virgin Mary, all the angels and saints, and you, my brothers and
sisters to pray for me to the Lord our God.
I
expected the priest to say “I forgive your sins”, but he
surprised me by saying “May almighty God have mercy on us,
forgive us our sins, and bring us to everlasting life.” Wait a
minute! Not only was this completely biblical (1 John 1:9), but it made
perfect sense for a time of confession to be made. The priest
didn’t declare it his power to forgive sins as God, but instead
shared the words audibly for the people of forgiveness in place of
Christ who is now seated at the right hand of the Father.
The congregation then broke out into singing one of the most beautiful hymns I have ever heard:
Glory to God in the Highest, and peace to his people on earth.
Lord God, heavenly King, almighty God and Father,
We worship you, we give you thanks,
We praise you for your glory.
Lord Jesus Christ, only Son of the Father,
Lord God, Lamb of God, you take away the sin of the world:
Have mercy on us;
You are seated at the right hand of the Father, receive our prayer.
For you alone are the Holy One,
You alone are Lord, You alone are the Most High, Jesus Christ.
With the Holy Spirit, in the glory of God the Father.
Not
only was this a beautiful and ancient hymn, but they recognized in this
hymn the one Triune God and worshipped only Him. Truly, Catholics have
never worshipped idols.
The
Bible was then opened and the scriptures were read. Every Sunday around
the world I was told, the same passages are read – one from the
Old Testament, one from the New Testament, and one from the Gospels.
The priest then gave a biblically sound sermon based on tying those
readings together. And unlike some of the sermons I’ve heard in
my Baptist church, it wasn’t so long that I fell asleep. It was
real, applicable to our lives, and to the point. It was a challenge to
renew ourselves every day to live life fully for God.
As
if that weren’t enough, the congregation then together announced
their uniting faith in the Nicene Creed. They announced together that
they all believed the same doctrine, professing one Lord, one faith,
one baptism.
Then
they took an offering and together all the gifts, including the bread
and wine to be used in communion were brought forward to the priest.
The priest followed with words offering thanksgiving and praise, and
offering up the bread and wine to God that would become the bread of
life (John 6:53).
All
this time as I looked around during the Eucharistic prayers everyone
seemed intent on what they were doing – worshipping God. The
focus seemed to be on the cross, and then heads bowed, on the priest
and the altar, then back to the cross. Everyone was offering there all
to God, as they knew how. It was a sight to behold. As the priest
welcomed the congregation forward to receive communion, they would
return to their pews, and kneel again in worship. They truly believed
Jesus was with them and present in the meal they had just taken part
of. Some cried, some kneeled or sat silently. Some glowed with soft
smiles. Everyone expressed different emotions to receiving the
Eucharist. As for myself? My heart melted. Even in suffering, there was
joy. How could that be?
I
prayed, “God if this is true, if what is happening here today is
the same thing that happened 2000 years ago in the upper room, then I
want to be part of it. Give me the wisdom and knowledge to come home.
But if this isn’t what you desire, if what is taking place here
is wrong, all the quicker, by any means necessary, call out to me,
bring me out”. I have known joy in my fundamental church. There
was a great deal of fun, there was faith in Christ, and there was an
emphasis on the Bible. But there still seemed to be things missing. A
certain reverence for God, unity among the people, a covenantal
atmosphere that would go along with biblical worship, and of course, it
was still part of denominationalism. The unity that Christ prayed for
in John 17 was missing.
The
priest dismissed the congregation and I quickly made my way back
outside and to the car. Going to mass didn’t really solve my
dilemma. It seemed in fact to make it worse in a way. My problem would
be solved if I saw pagan or idol worship. Instead I saw people
worshipping God alone, bring praise to Jesus Christ in faith for what
he had done for us.
While
I had many Catholic friends on the Internet, I thought it was time I
should get in touch with some Catholics face to face. To ask questions,
learn from them, continue to try to sort out this journey. The next
week I called St. Isidore rectory, where I learned is the place that
the priests lived (Wow – that seemed biblical in itself, after
all isn’t that what the Apostles did? They didn’t have a
claim to anything; they shared, and shared alike). I asked about
possibly visiting the RCIA program (Catholic inquiry and membership
classes) one night. I was given the name and number to the person in
charge and was welcomed to come. As I pondered to go or not I thought
“Oh yeah, the wife is going to love this”.
I
went to my first RCIA meeting not sure what to expect. I had studied so
much already but still had many questions I was hoping to ask, all
revolving around Catholic culture. While I was warmly received, I had
to admit after the first night, I was not impressed much at all. Though
I figured that was to be expected, I had always been told Catholic
education as a whole was very poor. The material they used was so basic
I may have been afraid to use it to teach anyone beyond 2nd grade for fear of offending them.
I
decided to keep attending, at least to keep the door open if God was
calling me into the Catholic Church. They eventually got a new
education director and he introduced material, which was still
elementary in nature, but had much more depth to it. While I thought
certainly there must be something better (which today I believe is
“The Faith” by John Hardon), it was a sure step up. I was
basically told that I was out of the league for what was usually taught
in RCIA, I already knew more than some of the teachers, and my purpose
in RCIA would to be to learn about what being Catholic means for a
persons life.
That
was all right by me, but back at home it was not so all right for my
wife. Teresa had grown very weary of my studying the Catholic faith and
the night that I finally asked for Mary’s intercession during our
evening prayer, she looked about ready to flip out. I explained to her
I finally had found an escape to a sin that had long plagued me through
her intercession.
When
I was a young teenager I started to struggle with the same thing 9 in
10 other young teenagers struggle with and often become addicted to:
sexual temptation. I prayed for so many years, so long, and so hard to
overcome the temptation, but failed, week after week, year after year.
In all my prayers, pleadings, and through many tears shed, the only
answer I ever felt had come back to me was “tell your mom”.
Tell my mom? “Are you nuts God?!” is how I felt. Of course
I wouldn’t tell my mom about my problems with self-pleasure. Then
finally one afternoon well into my study of the Catholic faith, have no
longer any arguments left about the Communion of the Saints, I found
myself struggling again with temptation. I was desperate to do anything
to overcome it. Then out of the corner of my eye I saw a rosary sitting
on the shelf. Mary. Mother Mary. Could that be the answer? Am I suppose
to ask Mary for her intercession? For her prayers? Is that what I had
been told throughout the years in my prayers when all I felt was
“ask your mother”? The prospect was frightening. Me, a
Baptist, say a Hail Mary? I knew asking for Mary’s intercession
was biblical, but me? I had an option, I was too battle-worn from
fighting temptation anymore to win on my own. I could ask Mary, or I
could probably risk losing. So I picked up the rosary, looked through
my notes until I found a copy of how to pray the rosary, and said the
whole rosary with my intention in mind for Mary to intercede on my
behalf about my temptations.
I
won. Or more appropriately, through Mary’s intercession, and
God’s grace, the battle was won. I sat there in my desk chair
thinking “The temptation is gone!” I was overjoyed! I leapt
out of my chair laughing and smiling and clapping my hands grasping the
rosary. The Bible talks about effective prayers, well it seemed, this
prayer of the Blessed Virgin was indeed effective. I looked back down
at the rosary. Something in me then knew that I could no longer remain
a Baptist. At least not a true Baptist. I wasn’t sure if I had to
become Catholic, I had already made the promise to myself that I would
not unless there was no other way out – unless if I could agree
with every single doctrine. I had wanted so badly to find that one
doctrine which was anti-biblical to prove the promises of the Church
wrong. I don’t believe though after that day that I could be so
gleeful in such a search.
From
that time on I started attending mass every Sunday. It was after all,
more biblical than a Baptist service. I found myself in a sense,
filled, after each service, as my wife looks back now and says “I
came home with a smile on my face every Sunday”. One Sunday as I
sat in mass I had a thought- if this as Baptists and others say it is
– the work of Satan, well then Satan isn’t doing a very
good job. We come together every Sunday and fall deeper in love with
God, worshipping Him and Him alone. Satan would be doing the very thing
Christ told us was impossible: for Satan to cast Satan out.
What
else was intriguing about the mass is how much it stayed the same. In
my Protestant churches there always had to be something new, something
entertaining to keep people coming, to keep people feeling close to
God. It boggled my mind as a Baptist that people had to keep coming up
and getting “saved” again and baptized again. In the mass,
there were no million-dollar sound and video systems, there were no
jokes, no entertainment, no testimony time. Nothing shocking or new or
surprising. What kept people coming each Sunday and even everyday then,
to hear the same words spoken over again (mind you the scripture
readings did change)? Why didn’t they get bored and want
something different? What could be at mass that kept someone there his
or her whole life?
Christ
was the answer I came to. Christ was truly present in the Eucharist. My
studies had lead me to believe it. Now I had seen it face to face. How
could I deny it any longer?
Inside
I longed to become Catholic. Theoretically, if ever a priest decided to
lock me out of the church at the beginning of mass, I’d likely be
ready to wield an ax to chop the door down. Before making a final
decision to become Catholic I decided to go on a last round of talking
to people about the Catholic Church. One last study, one last futile
attempt at finding something, anything that might keep me away from the
Church. I had already left one church for another, and it seemed to be
turning out that this church also was not where I belonged. I
wasn’t about to jump into the boat in another church without
being sure of it first. So while I was ready and longing to be
Catholic, I wasn’t going to leap without taking a second look.
I
spent months more time rereading some of the massive volumes of books I
had already read, I reflected on the words of those on the debate
boards who were still at it. I prayed a lot, meditated on all I had
learned a great deal. I knew deep down that the Catholic Church was all
it claimed to be. I was just afraid to make the leap. Then, almost
completely out of the blue, my wife announced to me and on the Catholic
board we were apart of that she had decided to become Catholic. Say
what? I was in complete shock!
This
young, life long Bible believing, foot stomping, devil hating, praise
singing, Lord loving, tried and true Baptist announced her intent to
reconcile to the Catholic Church. As it turned out while I spent a
great deal of time studying, she spent a great deal of time listening
and learning on her own as well, perhaps at first on how to drag her
husband out of his heresy. Like myself though she learned that she
could not be completely fulfilled and truly united to the body of
Christ outside the Catholic Church. She discovered that as a Christian
she is not only called to a personal relationship with Christ but a
personal relationship with the whole family of God. A very visible,
united family of God.
That
was enough for me. I was ready to come home, and I was ready to
announce it. So I shared with the world that I would become Catholic.
There was concern from those Baptist friends we still had, and there
was a great deal of rejoicing from all of our Catholic friends, and
more unusually, from my own mom.
Teresa
and I attended the RCIA classes together. While we intended to go
through all of the rites together, as it turned out we would not be
doing that. Several weeks after our decision to become Catholic, a
great weight was on my soul. I knew all about mortal sin, and realized
that a sin I had recently committed fit into that category in every
way. Because I knew what mortal sin was, and because I believed in it,
I was culpable to it. I went to the pastor of the Church, Father Don,
and explained to him my situation and that I desired the Sacrament of
Penance. It must have seemed quite odd to him to have someone so young
in his office who wasn’t even Catholic asking for the Sacrament.
He understood my plight though and had me right then and there make an
act of faith, first to reconcile me to the Church, to make me a
Catholic as it may be, and then helped me through my first confession.
There I confessed all those things up to the Lord that I had done that
was displeasing to him, and listened as he offered the words of
absolution. Through this man of God, I heard for the first time aloud
that I was indeed forgiven of my sins, that I might go forth and make
amends through a time of prayer, and strive to avoid the sin that I had
confessed.
It
was a powerful moment. It was sacramental. God made a promise. God told
us to confess to one another. God gave the power to bind and loose to
the Apostles. And now, here, in this pastors office, I had heard it all
aloud. The confessional is a place of healing. It’s the
doctor’s office of the soul. In the few times I have been to
confession so far I have completely broken down into tears, barely
making it through an act of contrition (a prayer recognizing your
sorrow for sin). And indeed it was very healing. Never before had I
been so sorry for my sin, because I had displeased God who had done so
much for me, and never before did I feel so free from that sin, so
healed, so deep in my relationship with the Lord as I did at those
times. If all Catholics truly understood what took place in the
confessional, most churches would require a confessional to be open
almost perpetually.
The
next big challenge in mine and Teresa’s life was to help the
leaders in the Church understand that our marriage was sacramental. At
first we were told that our marriage was not valid in the eyes of the
church and we would have to get remarried. This is where I was able to
prove to myself that I knew what I was doing was right. I had already
studied so much I was able to go to the code of canon law, which
governs church business, and show citing several sources that our
marriage was valid. Our pastor after listening to me said I was
absolutely right, and that he had not understood that we were both
fully Protestant at the time of our marriage, thinking that one of us
was still, in an official sense, Catholic, from our childhood years. It
was the first and hopefully last time, I had to spend time proving I
had indeed made an official split with the Church.
In
our journey into the Church Teresa spent a lot of time struggling with
the RCIA program. Since I had already made my act of faith and
confession, I was no longer really required to attend RCIA. I had also
made the announcement that I myself had been accepted to Franciscan
University in Steubenville, and it was expected that I wouldn’t
be able to finish the RCIA program there anyway. It eventually came to
the point for Teresa also that she desired to receive her Lord in the
Eucharist and she desired confession, that our pastor allowed her to
reconcile to the Church also, having come to the understanding that she
had all the knowledge she needed to join the church.
We
both made our first communion together. The priest announced that it
was our first communion to the Church that Sunday, with our friends
with us, we went up first and received Christ in the most intimate way
possible.
We
are today at home in our new found Catholic faith. At this point in our
story I am on my way to attending Franciscan, studying daily, forming a
prayer habit, and attending mass whenever possible. I am excited about
the future ahead. I hope to spend my life in the Church working towards
the conversion and education of souls.
My
last thoughts to you, the reader, is you are not Catholic is to head
the words of Pope John Paul II, “Be not afraid”. My friend,
do not be afraid to learn and to study. Be open to viewing the Bible in
a different light. A covenantal light. A liturgical light. The Catholic
Church has stood the test of time. It has proven over and over to be
everything it claims. But it does take a paradigm shift to understand
what the Church has to tell you, especially if you are from a
fundamentalist background. Today’s modernistic American
fundamental church has a very different understanding of how to view
and read the Holy Scriptures than has ever been seen in history before.
Such concepts as godly suffering are all but lost. The English language
does not do justice to the scriptures, nor does brief dabbling in Greek
and Hebrew word studies always yield the correct understanding of
scripture. Ask yourself as a Protestant- how do you know with surety
that your interpretation is correct, when every other Christian
believes they had the Holy Spirits guidance that their interpretations
are correct? Did the Bible mention an authority in such matters? Did it
mention a pillar and foundation of truth?
So
do not be afraid, pick up Catholic books, pick up non-Catholic books,
and if you really have a stomach for it, try an anti-Catholic book.
Read carefully and pray hard. Ask questions, get to know Catholics who
are true to their faith. And decide for yourself.
|
To all the
Christian Faithful Dear Friends, Greetings to you in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, who came as the Word Incarnate nearly 2000 years ago for our salvation. Glory be to the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. As it was in the beginning is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen. I am writing this letter as an official announcement that as of now I intend to fully reconcile to the Catholic Church on Easter Vigil, 2005. While on the surface, I am nervous delving into a somewhat unfamiliar culture, I can with unwavering confidence say that Catholicism not only has the most biblically rooted theology and doctrine, but also that history itself gives enormous support to the Catholic Church and her people. This decision has not been easy or quick. And I won’t even be fully reconciled until next Easter. I do believe though that the thousands of hours of prayer, reading, study, and debate have lead me to be more than capable of accurately making such a decision. Notice that emotion and friendships do not play into this. This is a decision made on my desire to please God alone and draw into an even more intimate relationship with him. And I am deeply at peace with this. For those of you w |