At the end of our RCIA class a week ago, one of the young women candidates asked us life-long Catholics what our faith means to us. I had a week to think about it before answering, but still found it difficult to put into words. Those of us who grew up in the faith sometimes take it for granted. Our religion is so ingrained in us that it becomes automatic. We seldom give it much thought, and that is not a good thing.
I decided to make some notes on what my Catholic faith means to me. Telling some soon-to-be Catholics why I love my faith seemed of critical importance so I didn’t want to leave anything out. I wanted to do it justice. How does one speak of something so central to one’s life without falling short? After writing down a few thoughts, I tossed my notes aside. When the time comes, I will just speak from my heart and hope the Holy Spirit helps me find the words.
The time came last Wednesday. My fellow teacher, a very spiritual woman, went first. She gave a beautiful explanation of her faith journey, starting many years ago in a poor neighborhood in Chicago. She began attending retreats and her love of Jesus and the Church grew over time. Today she attends Mass daily and leads a very prayerful life despite some tragedies including the loss of a child in an accident years ago.
When it was my turn, I told of my upbringing with a Catholic mother and a non-practicing Methodist father. Religion was not talked about much in our household. I went through eight years of Catholic school, taught by nuns from the Order of Saint Francis. We attended Mass before school every morning, religion class each day, I was an altar boy, and a good one I might add. i learned what the Church taught, but not always the reasons for the teachings.
My last year of Catholic school was 1964. The Beatles were the latest thing and the Second Vatican Council was session. The world was changing. The Church was changing. Many of my former Catholic school classmates would soon drift away from the faith. I never did. I continued going to Mass with my mother and sister through high school.
By the time I went off to college, the sexual revolution was going on. Woodstock, hippies, long hair, and free love were the common denominators among people my age. I never fit in with that crowd and continued Mass attendance every Sunday. It was the way my mother and the nuns had raised me. Yet, I had my doubts about the authority of the Church to rule over our lives. I became what some call a cafeteria Catholic. I liked to pick and choose what teachings I would follow and which ones I would ignore. I thought the Catholic Church was just one of many Christian denominations. That attitude continued after college and into my married life.
I had a friend at work who belonged to the Church of the Nazarene. He knew I was Catholic and would occasionally hit me with accusations that many Catholic teachings were non-biblical. Jesus had brothers, Mary was not sinless, we have graven images in our churches. I did not know how to refute his arguments. In fact, most of the time, I didn’t even know what he was talking about. My response was silence and a shrug.
In the mid 1990’s (I wish I could remember the exact date), everything changed in the span of about ninety minutes one evening in our church basement. Out pastor at the time invited a young apologist from Saint Joseph Communications to speak, not just to our congregation, but to anyone in the community who wished to attend. He mailed handbills to every household on our postal routes telling of this former Baptist minister who would speak about his conversion to the Catholic Church. The speaker’s name was Tim Staples.
I remember thinking at the time that this guy is probably setting us up. He is going to come here under false pretenses to point out all these non-biblical Catholic teachings my friend had told me about. I decided to go hear what he had to say.
If you have never heard Tim Staples’ conversion story, please search his name and find it. He did bring up all of those so-called non-biblical Catholic teachings during his talk, but Tim had a friend in the Marine Corp who actually knew his Catholic faith and was able to refute every anti-Catholic misconception he raised. I learned there were Catholic answers to all of the objections to which my friend had challenged me. Tim had converted to the Catholic Church and I was inspired that night with a new confidence in my faith. He lit a fire in me that still burns today.
I realized the Catholic Church is not just one of many Christian denominations. She is the original Church instituted by Jesus Christ. The other Christian denominations are offshoots and offshoots of offshoots. Christianity is like a tree where the trunk represents the Catholic Church and the branches are those who have split away. Some are like twigs far removed from the original source. They sway with the winds of the world, but the trunk remains unrelenting and solid. She may not be as pretty as some of the foliage, but she is true and trustworthy and I will cling to her.
In the Bread of Life Discourse in John Chapter 6, many of Jesus followers left him when He told them they must eat his body and drink his blood. Jesus asked the twelve, “Will you also go away?” Simon Peter answered, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.” (John 6:66-68) I too will always remain in the Catholic Church. Where would I go? Anywhere else is going out on a limb.
