Categories
Apologetics Communion Conversion Doctrine Ecumenism Faith Formation Sacred Scripture Spiritual Growth Testimonials Tiffany P

Understanding Catholicism with Baptist Theology

The Baptist faith community where I grew up deserves most of the credit for making me into the Christian I am today. It was there that I was first introduced to God and His immense love for me, that I learned to faithfully commit myself to the study of Sacred Scripture, and it is where my relationship with God truly began and developed. While this faith community did not contain the fullness of Truth that is found in the one Church established by Christ, the majority of what they taught me was truthful and good. As such, certain truths that I was taught over and over again as a young Baptist helped me take a step further and apply those truths to the Catholic Church, enabling me to better understand her Teachings. There are three that stand out to me the most. While the majority of Baptists will disagree with these three Teachings, I have found that I could not rationally accept the things that they taught me, which I still hold to be true, and yet deny what the Catholic Church further Teaches on those matters.

Accountability Partners

As a teen in the Baptist youth group, we were always encouraged to find what they called an “accountability partner”. This would ideally be a fellow teen in the youth group who can be an encouragement to us in our day to day lives outside of church. We would intercede on each other’s behalf in prayer, and keep each other on the straight and narrow path by holding one another accountable for their actions and protecting each other from the temptation to sin. Additionally, we had “Sunday School”–small Bible study groups that met Sunday mornings before worship. Each group was lead by an adult: older and more experienced Christians who can look to as role model, bringing to them our struggles and prayer requests.

All of this was rooted in Scriptures such as Matthew 18:20, which states “For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.”, and many others which stress the importance of Christian community and solidarity in prayer.  When I later began my study into the Catholic Church,  I learned that not only does she agree, but she goes further to include the Christians in Heaven in this community of fellowship, encouragement, and prayer. Based on everything they taught me, I could not reject this Truth. I was always told that Catholics idolize the saints because they pray for their intercessions, and seek to model their lives after them. Yet, the same people taught me that Christian accountability and role models are crucial to our faith. Another argument they had against the Christians in Heaven is that we should not talk to the dead, but they taught me that through Christ, saved Christians experience eternal LIFE in Heaven, a place that is separate from Earth and all its limitations.  I can say with confidence that my Baptist upbringing has strengthened my devotion to communion with the saints–my heavenly accountability partners.

The Infallibility of that which is Divinely Guided

In my experience, Baptists have a strong and admirable devotion to Scripture, and it is heavily impressed upon all believers to spend daily quiet time in the Word. This is because of their (Truthful) belief that the Bible is God-inspired and and God-breathed. They taught me that although the Bible was written by flawed men of sinful nature, its words are inerrant because the Holy Spirit inspired the writing. The sins of the writers, therefore, do not negate the authority of the Scriptures. I accepted this explanation as True, and I still do.

When I first learned that the Catholic Church claimed to be the authority of Christ, divinely guided by the Holy Spirit and infallible in her Teachings on faith and morals, like most Protestants my immediate reaction was furious dissent. “There cannot be a perfect Church”, thought I, “because there are no perfect people!” But that is not what I was always taught; the Holy Spirit can and has guided imperfect men to produce something perfect and authoritative. Why then would I limit God so to say that He can only guide writers, and not an established Church? Why would the Holy Spirit be able to move God’s Word in the written form, but not also orally?

The men who lead Church throughout history and today are imperfect and have committed grave sins while in ministry. But just as the sins of St. Paul do not negate the infallibility of His letters in the New Testament, neither does the mistakes made by Catholic leaders negate the infallibility of the Church and its role as authority of Christ.

A New Creation in Christ

As I came to accept the Catholic Church as True and began my journey into full communion with her, the hardest pill for me to swallow was the belief in the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist. This is understandable as I had spent my whole life believing that Christ was speaking metaphorically when He said, “This is my body”, and the Lord’s Supper was meant only to be a symbolic memorial service. It did not make sense to me how a piece of bread and cup of wine could contain all the elements of Christ after only a prayer. It still looked like bread and wine, tasted like bread and wine, and nothing about its substance visibly changed. It just didn’t make sense. I believed it to be True because I believed the Church to be divinely guided by Christ, and I acknowledged that history shows this is what Christians believed for 2,000 years, but I remained skeptical in spite of myself.

It finally clicked one day when I drew to mind my Baptist youth and all they taught me about new creations in Christ. Baptists believe that when one realizes their need for Christ and surrenders their life to Him, that in that moment they are “saved” once and for all. While this is not in accordance with Catholic doctrine, which Teaches that our Christian lives comprise of a series of ups, downs, and milestones as opposed to one, single moment, there was a part of this Baptist belief that was True and that was stressed: when one repents and turns to God, he or she becomes literally a new creation in Christ. They taught this based on 2 Corinthians 5:17: “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here“. We told again and again that at the moment of repentance, the entire essence of our being is changed. “You look the same, and you smell, sound, and feel the same; you are still comprised of the same substance. But you are not the same–you have been made into something completely different!”, pastors, youth ministers, and other leaders said.

Upon remembering this, there was no longer any doubt in my mind that Christ was really present in the Eucharist, that which was once mere bread and wine. I still held to be true what I was taught by faithful, godly Baptist Christians that Christ has the ability to take one thing, keep it the same in appearance and substance while transforming it into something brand new–a literal new creation that is made of Christ.

At times I am confronted with old friends and acquaintances from the Baptist church of my youth; they are curious what lead me to the Catholic Church, which they still believe to be false or mislead in certain areas. My answer is this: I am Catholic because of Baptist theology, and all that it instilled in me.

Categories
Apologetics Conversion Ecumenism Evangelization Faith Formation Testimonials Tiffany P

Going AWOL Out of The Christian Civil War: How My Desire for Christian Unity Lead Me Home to The Catholic Church (Part 2))

In the first part of my “coming home” story, I described how my Christian life began and how, only a few years later, God began to place a burden on my heart for the lack of unity within the Christian family. If you missed the Part 1, you can read it here.

This dissatisfaction I felt with the existence of multiple Christian denominations, and the understanding that this was not what God had in mind for his family, nagged me through the months that followed high school graduation. As I mentioned in the previous post, I left behind the Baptist church I grew up in, and became a member of a non-denominational church, as I felt this was the best solution for refusing the divisions created by man. The concept of “denominations” was what I had become adamantly against, and this church did not claim a title.

At this point, the Catholic Church was the furthest thing from my mind as an option I would consider.  The only words I ever heard spoken about the Catholic Church were in a negative manner by non-Catholic friends and church leaders, who claimed that very few Catholics, save the Catholics who didn’t believe most of Church Teaching, were going to Heaven due to their lack of relationship with God, worship of Mary and the saints, the ungodly practice of keeping Jesus on the cross, and a host of other allegedly unbiblical doctrines. I had even read a book, provided to me by my non-denominational young adult group that described “facts” on “false teachings”. Amongst Hinduism and Islam was a chapter on  Roman Catholicism, which explained all the reasons why it is clearly unbiblical, a false religion created by deceptive men. If I had this book in my possession now, I am confident that I could point out all the flaws in the author’s presentation of Church Teaching and use of Scripture, but I regress.

It was at this point in my life in which God chose to introduce to me my future husband. God’s perfect timing turned out to be the August after I graduated high school. I had chosen not to date anyone unless I could see myself marrying them, in which case we would explore the possibility of marriage. As Jordan pursued me, I felt a peace about opening my heart to a courtship with him. He met every quality on my future husband “list”, with the exception of one: he was not a Baptist or a non-denominational, but Catholic.

Jordan was raised Catholic, but at the time we met he did not have a strong passion for his faith. He knew the basics of what he was taught growing up, and for the most part attended mass weekly, but this was ultimately the extent of his Catholic devotion. However, he spoke often about praying for our relationship and exhibited fruits in his life that made me confident he was growing in the Lord, “in spite” of being a Catholic. As we became serious and it became knowledge to both of us that we would one day be married, he readily attended church and weekly Bible study with me without ever involving Catholicism in our relationship. I figured that we would simply continue to go to church there and non-denominational Christianity is the faith in which we would raise our future children.

A few months later, in a stunning plot twist, Jordan began to get more and more enthusiastic about the Catholic Church. It seemed to happen overnight. One day he was at church with me, seemingly soaking in the charismatic worship and Protestant sermon, and the next he was talking about going to mass, reading Catholic apologetics books, and meeting with a priest for discussion. I was completely caught off guard by this sudden devotion, and I was scared; Jordan was my best friend and accountability partner, and I honestly felt that he was getting caught up in a deceptive religion that kept souls from experiencing freedom in Christ. I expressed my concerns with him, and he told me things that seemed completely off the wall and terrifyingly untrue: Mary is available to pray for us and intercedes for us in the same way a friend on Earth might. The Lord’s Supper in a Catholic Church is not a symbolic memorial service, but the true flesh and blood of Jesus Christ. Speaking of Jesus Christ, he founded the Catholic Church.

I challenged everything he said. I demanded Scriptures (and learned that, indeed, my belief that everything must be written in the Bible is not found in the Scriptures!). I brought up Catholic doctrines that I thought were wrong, and he was able to provide a sound explanation of each, through Scripture, through history, and through applying my understanding of God’s character and nature. But I would not be deceived. I knew what I had always been told about the Catholic Church, and I was sticking to that.

This was a very hard time in our relationship. We argued and debated about theology often and as a result, God became a touchy topic that was often avoided. Though he still came to church and Bible study with me, he adamantly refused to miss mass. One day at church he passed on participating in the Lord’s Supper, telling me it was contrary to his beliefs that Jesus was speaking literally when he said “this is my body”.  I cried the rest of the day.

Several times I considered ending the relationship, but I never felt a peace about it. I felt God speaking to me that I should wait out the storm, and one day this would no longer be a barrier between us. I took this to mean that Jordan would see the errors in the Catholic faith and leave this religion behind. I earnestly prayed day and night. I fasted and prayed. I had others in my church pray. I prayed that we would both find Truth, even if it was contrary to the way one of us was always taught.  Additionally, I took the same approach of John Henry Newman and sought to become an expert in the history of early Christianity so I could use that information to disprove the assertion that the early Christians were Catholic in belief and worship practices.

That was the beginning of the end of my days as a “non-denominational”. As John Henry Newman said at the end of his own research, “to be deep into history is to cease to be a Protestant”.

The historical facts could not be denied. The early Christian Church was not just an unstructured group of men playing songs on a guitar and talking about how much they love God, as I once thought. It was a Church with structured leadership, beginning with Peter, to whom Jesus gave the “keys to the Kingdom of Heaven”, and the authority to “bind and loose”. (Mt. 16:18,19) I learned that “keys” were a sign of authority, signifying that an office was being created; one that is bigger than the current holder, and would continue after that person died. I learned that historical writings from the earliest Christians showed that the beliefs of the first Christian Church were the beliefs still held by the Catholic Church today. I found that my passion against man-made denominations was actually a very Catholic viewpoint, as denominations were indeed created by man, a response to refusing the role of the Catholic Church as the authority of Christ.

I can still recall the night all my studies of history and re-evaluation of certain Scriptures fell into place, and I realized the answer for refusing the Christian civil war. My blood went ice cold at first, and then warm, as words of realization spoke to my spirit: Christian unity cannot be possible without a single, binding Teaching office. Private interpretation of Scripture leads to different conclusions, which leads to different churches and denominations, which creates disunity. This is why Christ gave us a Church, divinely guided by His Spirit, to preserve the Truth of God’s Word. And as history shows, that Church IS the Catholic Church.

At that moment, I ceased to be a Protestant. I did not know everything the Church taught, and some of what the Church taught I was still skeptical on (it took some time before I had enough faith to believe Christ was truly present in the Eucharist). But that didn’t matter: in choosing to come into the Catholic Church, I was saying “I don’t know everything, and there are some things I am inclined to disagree with. But if I disagree, it is not because the problem lies with the Church—it is because the problem lies with me and my private understanding of Scripture.”  The one thing I knew for certain, and the only thing that mattered, was that the Catholic Church is the only Church established by Christ and not man, and it’s in this divinely guided Church where the fullness of Truth and Christian unity lives.

It was scary to leave the only type of Christianity I had ever known. I experienced a “culture shock” of sorts, and wondered if I would ever truly feel at home in such different surroundings. Additionally, I lost a few friends who felt betrayed by my choice to become Catholic. They did not experience the same change of heart as I and still believed I was being misled. Many people thought I became Catholic simply for a boy. A friend of mine was told by a leader in her church that I allowed my love for Jordan cloud my spiritual judgment. However, I would be willing to stand before my Lord, look Him in the eye, and say with honest conviction that my decision was based solely on a realization of Truth, after a close study of Scripture and history. Jordan and I were both on paths to the Truth, and I like to say we found it together. It was because of me exposing him to an alternate Christian perspective that he began to look deeper into the Church, and it was because he challenged my beliefs that I felt the need to seek Truth.

Jordan and I began RCIA classes in September 2008, me as a baptized Christian and him as a Catholic update. On April 11, 2009, I received the sacraments of confirmation and Eucharist, entering into full Communion with the Catholic Church. In the years since, we have served as sponsors in RCIA, helping guide other people to the beautiful, Christ instituted sacraments. This is because four years ago, as an anti-Catholic evangelical Protestant, I asked God to help me reunify the Body of Christ. At that time, I didn’t know where to start, but now I do.

In order for us to worship as one, we all need to be  home. Christians of all faith communities need to return to the home Christ built for us 2000 years ago. That home is the Catholic Church.

“Where the Bishop is, there let the multitude of believers be;
even as where Jesus is, there is the catholic Church”

–Ignatius of Antioch, 1st c. A.D

 

Categories
Apologetics Conversion Ecumenism Faith Formation Ink Slingers Series Testimonials Tiffany P

Going AWOL Out of The Christian Civil War: How My Desire for Christian Unity Lead Me Home to The Catholic Church (Part 1)

“So, that girl, do you know if she’s a Christian?”

“Uh, well, she’s Catholic…”

This was a statement that I have said more than once growing up. If someone asked me, for whatever reason, if someone the two of us know is a Christian, and if I knew they went to a Catholic church, my response was the aforementioned… skeptical at best.

Indeed, just because someone identifies as Catholic does not necessarily mean they are living the Christian life outside of Church or even acknowledging Christ in their hearts. It was not my place to give a definite answer, because only God knows their true heart. But the problem with my skepticism was the fact that if the person in question identified as Baptist or another “Bible-believing” denomination, my response was much more confident. Ultimately, the general attitude I had about most Catholics was that if they are truly living for Christ in their hearts, it is in spite of their Catholic faith, rather than because of it.

Like so many Protestants, all I knew about the Catholic Church was distorted misconceptions about what the Church teaches, why the worship is structured the way it is, and what the Church actually is in relation to Christ. The Catholic Church as an institution is corrupt, the followers do not read or care about the Bible, and they are merely taught to go through the motions of worship without thinking about the meaning of their actions. And they clearly don’t care about the Ten Commandments, because that commands against idolatry and Catholics worship statues.

Never in my life did I think I would become of them. Never in my life did I think I would cross over to the dark side of Christianity, where the Holy Spirit isn’t actually present and the overwhelming majority of its followers are hell bound and in dire need of salvation.

Never in my life did I think I would come to realize that everything in that preceding paragraph is terribly wrong.

I started my walk with God when I was fourteen years old. It was the summer before my ninth grade year, and before that year I didn’t heavily acknowledge God in my life. I believed in the existence of God, I had a Bible at home, and I went to church occasionally, but I wasn’t living a life surrendered to Him. He was a distant relative who crossed my mind occasionally and who I visited from time to time, but putting effort into growing closer to Him was not on my priority list.

Summer before the ninth grade, during a worship and prayer service at a week long church retreat, God’s spirit gripped me in a way that it never had before. I found myself on my knees, promising with a sincere heart that from that point forward, I would strive to live a life that was less about me and more about Him. I told God to begin to teach me and mold me into who He wanted me to be, and I would follow wherever He leads.  I left that day feeling like a new creation, and I always refer back to that moment as the day I began my relationship with God. About six months later I was baptized in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. All of these events occurred in the First Baptist Church in my hometown, and I know that I was blessed to begin my Christian life in a church full of godly role models and amazing friends who held me accountable in my walk with Christ. I was highly involved in the youth group throughout high school, where I grew spiritually through summer camps, mission trips, Wednesday night Bible studies, and various fellowship events throughout the years. I am thankful that I had such a wonderful faith community to call home during my teenage years, in which temptations and threats to my walk with Christ were at every corner.

However, when I was seventeen, I began to question some things I had never thought about before. This question was brought about when I became involved in a young adult program at a non-denominational church in my hometown. As a senior in high school, I would soon graduate from the youth group. This worried me because my church did not have a strong young adult program, and I knew that I needed community to stay strong in my faith. When I was introduced to the young adult group at this new church just in the nick of time, it was like a godsend. To this day that is still how I view it, because inclusion in this group caused me to question for the first time the reason for multiple Christian denominations.

This new church did not claim a denomination, because they wanted to simply love God free of denominational titles. Nonetheless, their theology did not differ greatly from that of my Baptist church, with a few minor exceptions. These exceptions were few, but they caused a slight division that was noticeable to me as I spent time with both groups. My new group would jokingly poke fun at the Baptist style of worship, which they perceived to be rigid and without freedom. Alternatively, my Baptist youth minister was infuriated with me for involving myself in a church that he thought wasn’t entirely biblical.

This division stirred something up in me, and I began to wonder why there are so many different kinds of Christians: Baptists, Catholics, Lutherans, Methodists, Pentecostals, and Presbyterians are only naming a few, as I soon learned that there are over 30,000 registered denominations and sub-sects.  All groups read the same Bible and claim to worship the same God, but are divided by some sort of disagreement in scriptural interpretation or practice. Then there is the identification of “non-denominational”. I initially thought, like many do, that attending a non-denominational church was the answer to refusing the Christian Civil War, as I would not be claiming any type of structured faith. I came to realize, however, this this is ultimately another denomination in and of itself, except that one freestanding church may interpret scripture entirely differently from another in the same five mile radius.

The more I thought about this in the months that passed after high school graduation, the more it began to truly anger me that as Christians, we aren’t unified. Christ wanted us to be unified. He wanted us to be one body, all in agreement with each other. I came across I Corinthians 1:10, where Paul says “I appeal to you brothers and sisters, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that all of you agree with one another in what you say, and there be no divisions among you, but you be perfectly united in mind and thought.”  People would often tell me that denominations do not divide the Body of Christ because we agree on most things. We all love Jesus and claim Him as our Lord and Savior, and that is all that is important. But Scripture does not tell us that we should agree on most things but then agree to disagree on that which keeps us in separate churches; it says we are to be perfectly united with no divisions.

This was a very hard time for me, as I was so broken about the fact that the Church was split up in so many ways, which is not what Christ wanted. In me grew a passion and desire to reunify the Church and to tear down denominational walls. This calling only overwhelmed me, because I was lost as where to start. Common sense clearly states that there can only be one truth, not multiple truths, and certainly not 30,000 truths. And when five different people from five different denominations say the Holy Spirit guided them to a particular understanding of scripture, and none of those interpretations perfectly coincide, that  presses the question, “who is right?”

It did not occur to me right at first that perhaps Christ gave us a physical Church: one which He ordained as His authority, whose Teachings are divinely guided by His Spirit, and will keep us unified in one Truth, a Truth which this Church, by the power of the Holy Spirit, will preserve throughout the years.

As I earnestly prayed and sought after God for the next several months, He led me to this answer, and in the most unexpected place: my longtime foe, the Catholic Church.

 

 

Part 2 of this story will be published on CatholicSistas August 24

Categories
Misty Testimonials

Why I Became Catholic (and Not Buddhist)

One of the questions I get most often when people hear I’m a convert is, “Why did you choose to become Catholic?” I’ve been asked this question by Jews, Baptists, Mormons, atheists, and even Jehovah’s Witnesses. The person who asks the question never says the rest of it, which is, “Why did you choose to become a Catholic INSTEAD of what I am?” These are people of genuine faith, who believe they have found and are living by The Truth. So naturally they want to understand how someone educated and sane could believe so differently.

It’s always a hard question to answer, because I’m sensitive to that unspoken part. I don’t want to insinuate–even accidentally–that they are less intelligent, less holy, or inferior to me as a Catholic. I usually give the “safe” answer, and talk about how my husband and I were drawn continuously to Jesus in the Eucharist. But part of me always yearns to say what G.K. Chesterton said so beautifully:

The difficulty of explaining “why I am Catholic” is that there are 10,000

reasons all amounting to one reason: that Catholicism is true.

I never wanted to be a Catholic. I never even wanted to be a Christian. When my husband convinced me to join him on a quest through major and minor religions nearly 15 years ago, I did it mostly to humor him. I had lived as an avowed atheist for more than a decade and couldn’t imagine that The Truth even existed, much less it could be found. Especially when I couldn’t even accept that God was real.

Fortunately, God literally changed my mind about Him with a thunderbolt. One day, I was reading an article about the human genome project (I was a technical writer), when I was drawn to look at my own hand. What had before been a clever machine of flesh and bone was suddenly revealed to me as a pure miracle of creation. It was truly that instant; one second I was an atheist, and the next I was a believer. I knew with absolute certainty that only an intelligent designer–God–could have created something as incredible as me!

But accepting God’s existence didn’t solve anything; in fact, it created new problems. I’ve had friends who are Deists, who believe God created the universe (including humanity) and then left it alone…much like a clockmaker might create a masterful clock he sets into motion and then ignores. To me, it was simply unthinkable that God would create the glorious universe–including all the amazing people such as my husband–and then just walk away. I realized that the beauty that had brought tears to my eyes even as an atheist could only be interpreted as the uniquely personal stamp of a loving God who delighted in His creation. If God created the majestic earth, gave us the joy of music, and gave me the mind to appreciate it, then it made no sense that he’d create all that just to turn His back on it.

So my agnostic husband and I started questioning the people who claimed to know something about God: the believers. All believers. Every time we encountered someone of faith, we invited them to dinner and then respectfully grilled them on their beliefs. We visited their churches and temples, went to services with them, and read ad nauseum about what and why they believed and how they lived out their beliefs.

I wanted to be cool, but God made me Catholic instead. Le sigh.

We were initially most attracted to Buddhism, no doubt because its adoption by prominent Hollywood celebrities made it a “cool” religion. But despite our best efforts, we just couldn’t accept that Buddhism was true. For one, we found it too morally fuzzy. We had both come around to the pro-life position a few years earlier; even as an atheist I could see it was a human rights issue. So we were disturbed to hear a Buddhist woman who claimed to respect all life describe assisting in an abortion.

When we talked to Buddhists about morality, their answers were relativistic: “It’s only wrong if it’s wrong for YOU.” This never set well with us; either abortion is wrong in all cases because it takes a human life or it’s never wrong. The idea of basing the morality of an action on whether I want it to be right or wrong just seemed ridiculously self-serving. We shuddered to imagine a world where people get to decide for themselves whether lying, stealing, or killing are right or wrong.

There also was the problem of access. When the local Buddhist temple brought in a Buddhist master for a few days, the temple charged several hundred dollars for a guided retreat. While the temple likely would not have turned away a person who couldn’t afford to pay, the wisdom of their living saints ordinarily came with a hefty price tag. My husband simply couldn’t accept this. “So the poor get Truth at the charity of the wealthy?” he asked. This became an insurmountable barrier to him.

For me, it was what Buddhism said was our ultimate destiny that proved the real stumbling block. The end goal of Buddhism is extermination of the self, to annihilate your consciousness by entering “Nirvana.” You’re reincarnated again and again until you learn to eliminate all desire from your soul, at which point your “consciousness” diffuses and becomes one with the universe. Unlike in Christianity, where the goal is union with God (but you are still, in essence, an individual named Susan or Richard), Buddhism’s goal is to destroy the self.

When I considered the people I loved, I found it terrifying to think that what makes them who they truly are–the soul–would just disappear. As atheist convert Jeff Miller (the Curt Jester) said in his conversion story, “Facing death, I found that I did not really believe that if I had been killed that my existence would have winked out of the universe. The soul is not just some metaphysical idea.” Even for myself, I could never understand how spiritual extermination was a palatable goal.

My coffee addiction would have caused serious problems for me as a Mormon.

So we stopped going to Buddhist temples and asking Buddhists to dinner. And it was nice, because I could now serve meat to our guests again. But it was actually a Mormon who made us realize Jesus of Nazareth was the key. One night we had dinner with a faithful Mormon family. The father spoke about Jesus so tenderly that his love for Him was almost palpable.

I can only describe what happened to both my husband and I at that dinner as “Love testified to The Truth.” We knew that Jesus was not just real, but that He was–inexplicably–ALIVE and that this man had a relationship with Him. It was like reading about Abraham Lincoln your whole life and finding out he was actually still alive. And that there were people among you who were friends with him!

While we were strongly attracted to the Church of Latter Day Saints because of its emphasis on family values and strong sense of community, we’d done enough research to know we did not accept Joseph Smith’s claim to divine authority. So we went looking for Jesus in the only other place we’d seen His friends congregate: Protestant churches.

Why not the Catholic churches? Because most Catholics we knew believed more in Luke Skywalker than Jesus. Even those who participated externally in the faith, such as the coworker who went to Mass each week and never failed to show up with her annual ashen cross, told me she didn’t need to believe “all that stuff about Jesus” to be Catholic. “I just like the idea that God came down to live with us,” she said. “But I don’t care whether it actually happened.”

We knew just two young Catholics who practiced their faith, but their quiet reverence was eclipsed by the Protestants we knew, who unabashedly talked about their love for Jesus and whose churches were vibrant and welcoming. When you showed up at their services, they were on you like white on rice and never failed to invite you to their spiritual family. We’d attended several Catholic Masses to learn more about Catholicism, but we’d never once been approached by a welcoming Catholic. In fact, when we’d asked one priest if he’d meet with us to answer questions about the faith, he gruffly told us, “Call the diocese.” Catholics seemed to worship more as individuals, even in Mass.

I’ll never forget our first Easter in a Christian church. We attended Truro Church in Fairfax, Virginia, an on-fire congregation that has since left the Episcopal Church. The line to get in wrapped around the block, with so many children you’d swear there was an orphanage on grounds. In front of us, a little boy played with action figures. Not of wrestlers or superheros, but of Jesus and the apostles. When the priest entered the church and processed down the aisle shouting, “Christ is risen!” the place erupted with so much excitement you felt like you were at a rock concert. These were people truly joyful to be Christian.

But for us, it wasn’t just about which group of believers impressed us. After all, we had been most impressed by the Mormons, but the teachings of Mormonism were a showstopper. The same thing happened with Protestantism. We’d call up churches and ask the pastor to meet for lunch. We’d meet, interview him about the church’s beliefs, then attend services the following Sunday. And we just could not accept that everyone gets to discern for himself what the truth is in the Bible. Everyone claimed their church was “Biblically-based,” yet every one taught something different. Even within the same traditions: Episcopalian Pastor A told us that abortion was always wrong while Episcopalian Pastor B told us it was sometimes acceptable. So remarriage is wrong in this church but not in that church? Women can be priests here but not there?

How can the Holy Spirit be leading so many people to different and even conflicting truths?

The more we read about Christian history, the more we realized that Protestant churches had changed “The Truth” to whatever was culturally acceptable at the time. Far from being immutable, Protestantism teachings were only true for as long as the congregants said they were. And if Truth really existed, we intuitively knew it wasn’t decided by committee.

That’s when we began seriously researching the teachings of the Catholic Church and discovered that the teachings of Catholicism today are the same as taught by the earliest Christians. We read that early Catholics—people who lived just a century or two after Jesus—believed in the Eucharist as the Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of Jesus. They believed in infant baptism. They believed in Confession. Purgatory. Hell. They were against abortion and yes, even contraception. That the Bible canon was compiled because the books supported the oral traditions of the Church and not the other way around.

For us, it was the historical consistency of the Catholic Church—that the teachings are the same today as they were in the first centuries after Christ—that led us to it despite the poor experiences we’d had with individual Catholics. We believed firmly in objective truth: that was what morally true thousands of years ago for humanity is still true today. If the nature of marriage and sex made contraception wrong 2,000 years ago, then it’s still wrong, because the essential nature of sex and marriage is the same.

So Catholicism is true after all. Crap.

It’s one thing to intellectually accept a religious institution has divine authority. It’s another thing to live that out. We’d decided at the beginning of our quest, though, that if we ever found Truth, we intended to live by it. Integrity, for some strange reason, was critically important to us both. If Buddhism was true, then we’d shave our heads and wear robes to work. If Mormonism was true, we’d give up coffee and Coke and wear sacred underwear. Probably even move to Utah.

But then there was Catholicism…and we realized that being faithful to Catholic teachings was the hardest path to follow as far as religions go. The bar is set very, very high for a person who wants to be a genuine Catholic—it’s not that there are so many rules about what you can’t do, but the call to holiness in Catholicism demands more of you spiritually than any other faith. C.S. Lewis called this the “weight of glory.” Were we ready to never tell a lie again? To avoid gossiping? To attend Mass every weekend after years of sleeping in? To eschew contraception for NFP even when we didn’t want to abstain?

By the time we were done RCIA, we were beating down the doors to become members of the one, holy, catholic, and apostolic church.

We realized that if we believed the Church spoke with the voice of Christ—and we did—then we had to submit to all her teachings, not just the ones we found convenient or easy. We realized that if we decided, for example, the Church was wrong about remarriage, then we were undermining the Real Presence. If the Church is wrong about contraception, then how can we have faith it’s right about baptism taking away sin or about God or even heaven? We had rejected, over and over, faiths that taught we could define morality on our own. But with that Truth facing us, it was a frightening prospect to submit our whole lives to it.

In the end, we did. We became Catholic together, surrendering our wills to the Church because we knew it was the same as surrendering them to Christ. That alone made it possible for us to accept all the teachings of Catholicism. And all along this hard road to sanctification, we’ve relied on our love for Him–and more importantly, His love for us–to live out the gift of faith He gave us.

Some people are amazed we were so resolute in our search for truth. But really, we did not choose Him–He chose us. Like Aslan in The Horse and His Boy, Jesus was there the entire time, nudging us this way and that, ensuring we had the grace to find the truth, accept it, and live by it.

Thank you, Jesus, for loving me even in my sin and for calling me home to You. What a gift it is to be Catholic!