Part I: Returning to the Roman Catholic Church
A Prophetic Tablemate
He was just as passionate as I was about theology, philosophy, church history, and all that stuff. It’s little wonder why the freshly wedded couple, whose reception we were currently enjoying, had foresight to seat us together.
I can’t recall his name, and outside of his dark hair, black suit, black shirt, and red tie, I only remember three other things about him: (1) He was seriously passionate about God; (2) he was an enthusiastic Roman Catholic; and (3) He spoke prophetically into my life.
He asked me about my future academic plans. By that time, I would have been halfway through a Master of Religious Education, with an MA in Theological Studies already on the wall. I told him my hope beyond this was to complete a doctorate in theology with a focus on church history/historical theology (which describes exactly the program I’m in).
Upon hearing this goal, he asked, “Are you prepared for your return to the Roman Catholic Church, then?”
“Ha! Yeah right!”
“Get ready,” he added. “You’re going to . The more you study, the more impossible it’ll be not to.”
Being firmly grounded thirty-plus years in the evangelical tradition by this time, serving in evangelical ministry, being taught in an evangelical divinity school, evangelicalism was my clearly delineated circle. My church, family, and a big part of my life and future plans involved the Protestant evangelical community.
And despite a healthy reverence and long-held appreciation for Catholicism, I felt far enough removed from it to confidently laugh back, “You’re nuts!”
Even though he afforded me a subtle smirk, he wasn’t joking, though. After a slight pause to sip his drink, he looked at me with real conviction, and said, “If your study is matched with an honest willingness to let God steer you, then start preparing for your return to the Catholic Church.”
That prognostication was about six years ago.
This past Sunday, its fulfillment saw me drop my paperwork to formally join the Roman Catholic parish at St. Kieran church. I still have one big step to complete (Sacrament of Confirmation), but at the conclusion of my first meeting with the parish pastor, I was greeted back into communion with the Church.
Before I walked from his office, he extending these words: “I’m excited for you … but more so, excited for us. Welcome home.”
Welcome home, indeed.
While the past six years have been the culmination of this journey, my path began well prior. The last few years, especially recent weeks, have been the steepest, most demanding part of it all.
By now, with the ridge crested, I am with a deep sense of relieving inner peace and joy. My spirit is full with the grace of God. I often feel welling emotions (and tears), as I contemplate my own surprise over this and reflect the profound gratitude I have for being graced with the discernment to know where I am supposed to be and the will to actually (finally) do it.
Because, positioning myself for that “welcome,” has demanded “farewells” elsewhere. Counting the cost of that all, was no easy thing.
Nevertheless, such a transition bears upon others, to varying degrees. Leaving the circle you were tied to for decades is one thing. Leaving it for Catholicism is completely other.
It’s not like simply pulling up a weed, as much as it is like taking an axe to the long, thick roots of an old shrub. Just quietly departing, I learned early in this process, would not be feasible … for a number of deeply rooted reasons.
Most of all, it only involves me. While I am proceeding into this with the blessing and full support of my wife, son, and closest family, none of them are coming with me, and currently remain at the church I now depart. In the interest of not putting them in a place where they have to endure questions and/or commentary about it, it seemed better to provide something that allowed me to speak for myself.
Secondarily, my experience in that community has involved long time areas of service and many years and even decades-old relationships. Neither are the sort of thing you can just walk away from, without severing some ties and telling folks you are moving on. And when you tell them you’re moving on, “Where are you headed?” inevitably follows. Of course, I’m not going to lie about it.
Lastly, hearing such a thing through the grapevine can have a tendency at times to cause more questions than are needed, due to unintended contortions of fact, which result from folks trying to fill in the gaps with their own ideas and interpretations.
So, with the closest and most essential people already aware, I am in the process of opening to more freely discussing this move with friends and acquaintances beyond.
Or those who may just otherwise be interested in this all.
________
Of course, reactions have ranged widely. Understanding, support, enthusiasm, from some. Head-shakes, eye-rolls, and outright disdain from others.
“I’m really excited for you and can’t wait to see what God has in this next chapter of your life,” said one longtime evangelical friend.
“I’m grieved to hear this,” said another, “I would have felt better if you told me you were becoming atheist.”
If the former is black and the latter white, other responses have constituted numerous shades of gray.
Yet, common among all, but a very few, has been the question “WHY?”
“Why in the world are you doing this?” or “I’d love to hear the story behind why, if you wouldn’t mind.”
I don’t mind.
That is the intent of this, as well what will follow in subsequent “parts” over the next few weeks/months.
I suspect following installments will include:
My History with the Roman Church: Why I Say “Returning to Catholicism,” as Opposed to “Becoming Catholic.”
Withering Personal Comfort in an Evangelical Framework: A Decade of Theological Deconstruction
Uncovering a Surprising Foundation: The Gravitation Back toward Rome and Reconstructing Faith on Sacramental Pillars.
And probably some others.
Why Bother?
It’s a complex and multifaceted decision. So writing, which is deeply formative and cathartic for me, is not only the best way to “put it all out there, “ but the best way I know to fully sort through all that this has entailed in a way that most neatly lays out “why” for both myself and others.
Yet, as one friend asked, “Why be concerned with answering anyone else?”
It starts with the stuff above, but there are other considerations.
In the interest of not telling this a hundred times over, maybe having something to direct folks to will be beneficial.
Second, it has been surprising how many others have expressed similar tugs on their own lives and/or spirits. Maybe this could serve as a boost of confidence for those who feel a nagging gravitation toward more liturgical and historically rooted expressions of the Faith. Or, that a personal pull to depart the evangelical community doesn’t mean departing your faith, which sadly all too often happens.
Lastly, my hope is that this will serve, at the very least, as a witness to my son. A witness to the power of seeking and responding to the leading of God, beyond the confines of what we know and to which we are accustomed. A statement that even when we agonize over the significant cost of doing so, there is nothing more important in life than pursuing and following God where we are being led … even as surprising as that may be.
Maybe that witness can benefit others along the way, as well.
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