| Real Conversion / Reversion Stories |
The Awakening of Joseph R. Cascio
Beacon, NY 12508
Submitted on 5 December 2006
Hi Tom
First off you have a BEAUTIFUL site and the Rosary movie is
heart rending.
I was a devout Atheist up until an accident changed my life as I
Knew it. I was brought up Catholic but only went through the
motions. On Feb 4, 2004, on my way home from work at night, I
stopped to help out an accident victim. The car I stopped for was
on its side and leaking Gas. The driver, a young woman of 17 and
drunk, was the Driver. I got her and her boyfriend to safety when
an Off-Duty Policeman assisted me. The Officer asked me if I
could slow Traffic at my end of the Road so he can set-up Flares at
his end; there was SO MUCH Debris. I was soon Struck by a
Pickup
Truck being driven by a Drver who was asleep at the wheel.
I could See and Hear but could not move. I was Dead. I was
waiting for something to happen that you hear about..a Light..a
Tunnel..passed over Relatives..etc. Nothing was happening; I was
Scared and began to Pray. Now I know myself to be a logical
person But " I KNOW WHAT I SAW "...The Holy Mother !
appeared to me, my Bloody Head was in her Hands . The Holy
Mother stroked my head and assured me I would see my Family
again and to PRAY..ALWAYS. I was then being ready for Heli-
Vac. The Pilot turned to me and told me to "Enjoy the Ride".
The Pilot had a name on his Helmet, I will NEVER forget it,
SATAN. I still recall this day after to this day. I am now a FIRM
believer in God and his WONDERFUL plan for us. As the Holy
Mother instructed me, I Pray always, I Bible study, I also have a
never ending Hunger to read about, and strive to Please Jesus and
get His Word out. I Feel things and See things in ways I never did
before. Praise God. I Love Life and my Family God gave me to
enjoy.
Thank you for reading this so to share my AWAKENING.
God does exist and Loves you.
Newman's Conversion Story in His Own Words (Brief)
[See also the Spanish version]
About the middle of June (1839) I began to study and master the
history of the Monophysites (1) . . . It was during this course of
reading that for the first time a doubt came upon me of the
tenableness of Anglicanism . . . In the middle of the fifth century, I
found . . . Christendom of the 16th and the l9th centuries reflected. I
saw my face in that mirror, and I was a Monophysite. The church of
the Via Media (2) was in the position of the Oriental communion,
Rome was where she now is; and the Protestants were the Eutychians
(3) . . . It was difficult to make out how the Eutychians or
Monophysites were heretics, unless Protestants and Anglicans were
heretics also; difficult to find arguments against the Tridentine Fathers
(4), which did not tell against the Fathers of Chalcedon (5); difficult to
condemn the Popes of the 16th century, without condemning the
Popes of the 5th. The drama of religion, and the combat and truth and
error, were ever one and the same. The principles and proceedings of
the Church now, were those of the Church then; the principles and
proceedings of heretics then, were those of Protestants now . . . The
Church then, as now, might be called peremptory and stern, resolute,
overbearing, and relentless; and heretics were shifting, changeable,
reserved, and deceitful, ever courting civil power, and never agreeing
together. (6)
In the summer of 1841 . . . my trouble returned on me. The ghost had
come a second time. In the Arian (7) History I found the very same
phenomenon, in a far bolder shape, which I had found in the
Monophysite . . . I saw clearly, that in the history of Arianism, the
pure Arians were the Protestants, the semi-Arians (8) were the
Anglicans, and that Rome now was what it was. The truth lay, not
with the Via Media, but in what was called "the extreme party." (9)
Whereas the Creeds tell us that the Church is One, Holy, Catholic,
and Apostolic, I could not prove that the Anglican communion was an
integral part of the one Church, on the ground of its being Apostolic or
Catholic, without reasoning in favour of what are commonly called
the Roman corruptions; and I could not defend our separation from
Rome without using arguments prejudicial to those great doctrines
concerning our Lord, which are the very foundation of the Christian
religion. (10)
Dec. 24, 1841 . . . There is indefinitely more in the Fathers against our
own state of alienation from Christendom than against the Tridentine
Decrees. (11)
For two years I was . . . in a state of serious doubt . . . I could not go to
Rome, while I thought what I did of the devotions she sanctioned to
the Blessed Virgin and the Saints. (12)
The fact of the operation from first to last of that principle of
development is an argument in favour of Roman and Primitive
Christianity. (13)
Who can determine when it is, that the scales in the balance of
opinion begin to turn, and what was a greater probability in behalf of a
belief becomes a positive doubt against it? (14)
I had been deceived greatly once; how could I be sure that I was not
deceived a second time? . . . I determined to write an Essay on
Doctrinal Development; and then, if, at the end of it, my convictions
in favour of the Roman Church were not weaker, to make up my mind
to seek admission into her fold . . . Before I got to the end, I resolved
to be received . . . (15)
From the time that I became a Catholic (16) . . . I . . . have had no
anxiety of heart whatever. I have been in perfect peace and
contentment. I never have had one doubt . . . It was like coming into
port after a rough sea; and my happiness on that score remains to this
day without interruption." (17)
FOOTNOTES
1. Monophysitism: A heresy of the 5th century holding that Christ had a Divine Nature alone
(the orthodox view is that He had Divine and Human Natures).
2. Via Media: The view that Anglicanism is intermediate between Catholicism and
Protestantism, and is a "branch" of the universal Catholic Church..
3. Eutychianism: An extreme form of Monophysitism which denied that the manhood of
Christ was consubstantial with ours.
4. Tridentine Fathers: Referring to the Bishops at the Council of Trent (1545-63).
5. The Council of Chalcedon in 451 condemned the Monophysites.
6. Newman, Apologia Pro Vita Sua, Garden City, NY: Doubleday Image, 1956 (originally
1864), pp.217-218.
7. Arianism: A heresy of the 4th century which held that Jesus was created and not eternally
God the Son.
8. Semi-Arianism: A group between orthodoxy and Arianism, but closer to orthodoxy.
9. Newman, ibid., pp.238-9.
10. Ibid., p.248.
11. Ibid., p.255.
12. Ibid., pp.275-6.
13. Ibid., pp.286-7.
14. Ibid., p.300.
15. Ibid., pp.309-310,313.
16. Newman had converted 19 years before this work was written (in 1864).
17. Newman, ibid., p.317.
My Odyssey From Evangelicalism to Catholicism
Dave Armstrong
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
[originally written on December 9, 1990 / revised: July 1992 /
expanded version: 1993. This was my draft of what was later
somewhat edited and included in Surprised by Truth with ten other
conversion stories. That book (1994; edited by Patrick Madrid) has
now sold over 300,000 copies: the highest total (I understand) of any
Catholic book besides the Catechism. Unfortunately, by agreement, I
never received one red cent. Oh well: lots of advertising of my name,
anyway, which counts for something when one is trying to live as a
full-time apologist. Another heavily-edited (I would even say,
"butchered") version of this story was published in This Rock in
September 1993 (my first time published in that important periodical) ]
**********
I was received into the Catholic Church in February 1991 by Fr. John
Hardon, an act which as recently as a year earlier, would have seemed
to me absolutely inconceivable. Not much in my background would
have indicated this surprising turn of events, but such is God's ever
inscrutable mercy and providence.
My first exposure to Christianity came from the United Methodist
Church, the denomination in which I was raised. The church we
attended, in a working-class neighborhood of Detroit, appeared to me,
even as a child in the early 1960s, to be in decline, sociologically
speaking, as the average age of the members was about fifty or so
years. In my studies as an Evangelical later, I learned that shrinking
and aging congregations were one of the marks of the deterioration of
mainline Protestantism.
As it turned out, our church actually folded in 1968, and after that, I
barely attended church at all for the next nine years. My early
religious upbringing was not totally without benefit, though, as I
gained a respect for God which I never relinquished, a comprehension
of His love for mankind, and an appreciation for the sense of the
sacred and basic moral precepts.
At any rate, for whatever reason, I didn't sustain an ongoing interest in
Christianity at this time. In 1969, at the age of eleven, I first came in
contact with the quintessential altar call of Fundamentalist
Christianity at a Baptist Church which we visited two or three times. I
went up front to get "saved," perfectly sincere, but without the
knowledge or force of will required (by more thoughtful Evangelical
standards) to carry out this temporary resolve.
During this period, I became fascinated with the supernatural, but
unfortunately, it got channelled into a vague, catch-all occultism. I
dabbled, with great seriousness into ESP, telepathy, the Ouija board,
astral projection, even voodoo (with a vicious gym teacher in mind!). I
read about Houdini and Uri Geller, among others.
Meanwhile, my brother Gerry, who is ten years older than I am,
converted, in 1971, to "Jesus Freak" Evangelicalism, a trend which
was at its peak at that time. He underwent quite a remarkable
transformation out of a drug-filled rock band culture and personal
struggles, and started preaching zealously to our family. This was a
novel spectacle for me to observe. I had already been influenced by
the hippie counterculture, and had always been a bit of a
nonconformist, so the Jesus Movement held a strange fascination for
me, although I had no intention of joining it.
I prided myself on my "moderation" with regard to religious matters.
Like most nominal Christians and outright unbelievers, I reacted to
any display of earnest and devout Christianity with a mixture of fear,
amusement, and condescension, thinking that such behavior was
"improper", fanatical, and outside of mainstream American culture.
During the early 1970s I occasionally visited Messiah Lutheran
Church in Detroit where my brother attended, along with his "Jesus
Freak," long-haired friends, and would squirm in my seat under the
conviction of the powerful sermons of Pastor Dick Bieber, the likes of
which I had never heard. I remember thinking that what he was
preaching was undeniably true, and that if I were to "get saved" there
would be no room for middle ground or fence-sitting. Therefore, I was
reluctant, to say the least, because I thought it would be the end of fun
and fitting-in with my friends. Because of my rebelliousness and pride,
God had to use more drastic methods to wake me up.
In 1977 I experienced a severe depression for six months, which was
totally uncharacteristic of my temperament before or since. The
immediate causes were the pressures of late adolescence, but in
retrospect it is clear that God was bringing home to me the ultimate
meaninglessness of my life - - a vacuous and futile individualistic
quest for happiness without purpose or relationship with God. I was
brought, staggering, to the end of myself. It was a frightening
existential crisis in which I had no choice but to cry out to God. He
was quick to respond.
It so happened that at Easter 1977 the superb Franco Zeffirelli film
Jesus of Nazareth (still my favorite Christian movie) was on television.
I had always enjoyed Bible movies, such as The Ten Commandments.
They brought the biblical personalities to life, and the element of
drama (as an art form) communicated the vitality of Christianity in a
unique and effective way. Jesus, as portrayed in this movie, made an
extraordinary impression on me, and the timing couldn't have been
better. He seemed like the ultimate nonconformist, which greatly
appealed to me. I marvelled at the way He dealt with people, and got
the feeling that you could never expect what He would say or do - -
always something with unparalleled insight or impact. I began to
comprehend, with the help of my brother, the heart of the gospel for
the first time: what the Cross and the Passion meant, and some of the
basic points of theology and soteriology (the theology of salvation)
that I had never thought about before. I also learned that Jesus was
not only the Son of God, but God the Son, the Second Person of the
Trinity, which, incredibly, I had either not heard previously, or simply
didn't comprehend if I had heard it. I started to read the Bible
seriously for the first time in my life (the Living Bible translation,
which is the most informal paraphrase).
It was the combination of my depression and newfound knowledge of
Christianity that caused me to decide to follow Jesus as my Lord and
Savior in a much more serious fashion, in July 1977 what I would still
regard as a "conversion to Christ," and what Evangelicals view as the
"born-again" experience or getting "saved." I continue to look at this
as a valid and indispensable spiritual step, even though, as a Catholic,
I would, of course, interpret it in a somewhat different way than I did
formerly. Despite my initial burst of zeal, I again settled into
lukewarmness for three years until August 1980, when I finally
yielded my whole being to God, and experienced a profound
"renewal" in my spiritual life, as it were.
Throughout the 1980s I attended Lutheran, Assembly of God, and
non-denominational churches with strong connections to the "Jesus
Movement," characterized by youth, spontaneity of worship,
contemporary music, and warm fellowship. Many of my friends were
former Catholics. I knew little of Catholicism until the early 1980s. I
regarded it as an exotic, stern, and unnecessarily ritualistic
"denomination," which held little appeal for me. I wasn't by nature
attracted to liturgy, and didn't believe in sacraments at all, although I
always had great reverence for the "Lord's Supper" and believed
something real was imparted in it.
On the other hand, I was never overtly anti-Catholic. Having been
active in apologetics and counter-cult work (specializing in Jehovah's
Witnesses), I quickly realized that Catholicism was entirely different
from the cults, in that it had correct "central doctrines," such as the
Trinity and the bodily Resurrection of Christ, as well as an admirable
historical legitimacy; fully Christian, albeit vastly inferior to
Evangelicalism.
I was, you might say, a typical Evangelical of the sort who had an
above-average amateur theological interest. I became familiar with the
works of many of the "big names": C.S. Lewis, Francis Schaeffer, Josh
McDowell, A.W. Tozer, Billy Graham, Hal Lindsey, John Stott,
Chuck Colson, Christianity Today magazine, Keith Green and Last
Days Ministries, the Jesus People in Chicago and Cornerstone
magazine, Inter-Varsity Christian Fellowship (a campus organization),
as well as the Christian music scene: all in all, quite beneficial
influences and not to be regretted at all.
My strong interest in both evangelism and apologetics led me to
become, with my church's permission, a missionary on college
campuses for four years. I also got involved in the pro-life movement,
and eventually Operation Rescue.
It quickly became apparent to me that the Catholic rescuers were just
as committed to Christ and godliness as Evangelicals. In retrospect,
there is no substitute for the extended close observation of devout
Catholics. I had met countless Evangelicals who exhibited what I
thought to be a serious walk with Christ, but rarely ever Catholics of
like intensity. I began to fellowship with my Catholic brethren at
Rescues, and sometimes in jail, including priests and nuns. Although
still unconvinced theologically, my personal admiration for orthodox
Catholics
skyrocketed.
In January 1990 I began an ecumenical discussion group which I
moderated. Three knowledgeable Catholic friends from the Rescue
movement, John McAlpine, Leno Poli, and Don McSween, started
attending. Their claims for the Church, particularly papal and conciliar
infallibility, challenged me to plunge into a massive research project
on that subject. I believed I had found many errors and contradictions
throughout history. Later I realized, though, that my many "examples"
didn't even fall into the category of infallible pronouncements, as
defined by the Vatican Council of 1870. I was also a bit dishonest
because I would knowingly overlook strong historical facts which
confirmed the Catholic position, such as the widespread early
acceptance of the Real Presence, the authority of the Bishop, and the
communion of the saints.
In the meantime, I was reading exclusively Catholic books (and all the
short Catholic Answers tracts), with an open mind, and my respect
and understanding of Catholicism grew by leaps and bounds. I began
(providentially) with The Spirit of Catholicism by Karl Adam, a book
too extraordinary to summarize adequately. It is, I believe, a nearly
perfect book about Catholicism as a worldview and a way of life,
especially for a person acquainted with basic Catholic theology. I read
books by Christopher Dawson, the great cultural historian, Joan
Andrews (a heroine of the Rescue movement), and Thomas Merton,
the famous Trappist monk, which all extremely impressed me.
My three friends at our group discussion continued to calmly offer
replies to nearly all of my hundreds of questions. I was amazed by the
realization that Catholicism seemed to have "thought out" everything -
it was a marvelously complex and consistent belief system
unparalleled by any portion of Evangelicalism.
At this time I became seriously troubled by the Protestant (and my
own) free and easy acceptance of contraception. I came to believe, in
agreement with the Church, that once one regards sexual pleasure as
an end in itself, then the so-called "right to abortion" is logically not
far away. My Evangelical pro-life friends might easily draw the line,
but the less spiritually-minded have not in fact done so, as has been
borne out by the sexual revolution in full force since the widespread
use of the Pill began around 1960.
Once a couple thinks that they can thwart even God's will in the
matter of a possible conception, then the notion of terminating a
pregnancy follows by a certain diabolical logic devoid of the spiritual
guidance of the Church. In this, as in other areas such as divorce, the
Church is ineffably wise and truly progressive. G.K. Chesterton and
Ronald Knox, the great apologists, could see the writing on the wall
already by the 1930s.
I was utterly shocked by the facts that no Christian body had accepted
contraception until the Anglicans in 1930, and the inevitable
progression in nations of contraception to abortion, as shown
irrefutably by Fr. Paul Marx. Finally, a book entitled The Teaching of
"Humanae Vitae" by John Ford, Germain Grisez, et al, convinced me
of the moral distinction between contraception and Natural Family
Planning and put me over the edge.
I now accepted a very "un-Protestant" belief, but still didn't even
dream of becoming Catholic (which is, of course, unthinkable for an
Evangelical). Yet I was falling prey to Chesterton's principle of
conversion - - that one cannot be fair to Catholicism without starting
to admire it and becoming convinced of it.
Meanwhile, my wife Judy, who was raised Catholic and became a
Protestant before we dated, had also been independently convinced of
the wrongness of contraception. She returned to the Church on the
day I was received. What a joy unity is! By July 1990, then, I believed
Catholicism had the best moral theology of any Christian body, and
greatly respected its sense of community, devotion, and contemplation.
Moral theology and intangible mystical elements began the ball of
conversion rolling for me, and increasingly rang true deep within my
soul; beyond, but not opposed to, the rational calculations of my mind
- what Cardinal Newman terms the "Illative Sense."
My Catholic friend, John, tiring of my constant rhetoric about
Catholic errors and additions through the centuries, suggested that I
read Newman's Essay on the Development of Christian Doctrine. This
book demolished the whole schema of Church history which I had
constructed. I thought, typically, that early Christianity was Protestant
and that Catholicism was a later corruption (although I placed the
collapse in the late Middle Ages rather than the usual time of
Constantine in the fourth century).
Martin Luther, so I reckoned, had discovered in Sola Scriptura the
means to scrape the accumulated Catholic barnacles off of the original
lean and clean Christian "ship." Newman, in contrast, exploded the
notion of a barnacle-free ship. Ships always got barnacles. The real
question was whether the ship would arrive at its destination.
Tradition, for Newman, was like a rudder and steering wheel, and was
absolutely necessary for guidance and direction. Newman brilliantly
demonstrated the characteristics of true developments, as opposed to
corruptions, within the visible and historically continuous Church
instituted by Christ. I found myself unable and unwilling to refute his
reasoning, and a crucial piece of the puzzle had been put into place -
Tradition was now plausible and self-evident to me.
Thus began what some call a "paradigm shift." While reading the
Essay I experienced a peculiar, intense, and inexpressibly mystical
feeling of reverence for the idea of a Church "one, holy, catholic and
apostolic." Catholicism was now thinkable and I was suddenly cast
into an intense crisis. I now believed in the visible Church and
suspected that it was infallible as well. Once I accepted Catholic
ecclesiology, the theology followed as a matter of course, and I
accepted it without difficulty (even the Marian doctrines).
My Catholic friends had been tilling the rocky soils of my stubborn
mind and will for almost a year, planting "Catholic seeds," which now
rapidly took root and sprouted, to their great surprise. I had fought the
hardest just prior to reading Newman, in a desperate attempt to
salvage my Protestantism, much like a drowning man just before he
succumbs! I continued reading, now actively trying to persuade
myself fully of Catholicism, going through Newman's autobiography,
Tom Howard's Evangelical Is Not Enough, which helped me
appreciate the genius of liturgy for the first time, and two books by
Chesterton on Catholicism.
At about this time I had a conversation with an old friend, Al Kresta,
who had also been my pastor for a few years, and whose theological
opinions I held in very high regard. I admitted to him that I was
seriously troubled by certain elements of Protestantism, and might,
perhaps (but it was a far-fetched notion) think of becoming a Catholic.
To my amazement, he told me that he, too, was heading in the same
general direction, citing, in particular, the problem that the
formulation and pronouncement of the Canon of Scripture poses for
Protestants and their "Bible-only" premise. These types of unusual
"confirming" events helped to create a strong sense that something
strange was going on during the bewildering period just preceding my
actual conversion. Al was in such a theological crisis (as was I), that
he resigned his pastorate within two months of our conversation.
Also at this time I had the great privilege of meeting Fr. John Hardon,
the eminent Jesuit catechist, and attending his informal class on
spirituality. This gave me the opportunity to learn personally from an
authoritative Catholic priest, who is a delightful and humble man as
well. After seven tense weeks of alternately questioning my sanity and
arriving at immensely exciting new plateaus of discovery, the final
death blow came in just the fashion I had suspected. I knew that if I
was to reject Protestantism, then I had to examine its historical roots:
the so-called Protestant Reformation. I had previously read some
material on Martin Luther, and considered him one of my biggest
heroes. I accepted the standard textbook myth of Luther as the bold,
righteous rebel against the darkness of Catholic tyranny and
superstition added on to "early Christianity."
But when I studied a large portion of the six-volume biography
Luther, by the German Jesuit Hartmann Grisar, my opinion of Luther
was turned upside down. Grisar convinced me that the foundational
tenets of the Protestant Revolution were altogether tenuous. I had
always rejected Luther's notions of absolute predestination and the
total depravity of mankind. Now I realized that if man had a free will,
he did not have to be merely declared righteous in a judicial, abstract
sense, but could actively participate in his redemption and actually be
made righteous by God. This, in a nutshell, is the classic debate over
Justification.
I learned many highly disturbing facts about Luther; for example, his
radically subjective existential methodology, his disdain for reason
and historical precedent, and his dictatorial intolerance of opposing
viewpoints, including those of his fellow Protestants. These and other
discoveries were stunning, and convinced me beyond doubt that he
was not really a "reformer" of the "pure," pre-Nicene Church, but
rather, a revolutionary who created a novel theology in many, though
not all, respects. The myth was annihilated.
Now I was "unconvinced" of the standard Protestant concept of the
invisible, "rediscovered" church. In the end, my innate love of history
played a crucial part in my forsaking Protestantism, which tends to
give very little attention to history (as indeed is necessary in order to
retain any degree of plausibility over against Catholicism).
At this point, it became, in my opinion, an intellectual and moral duty
to abandon Protestantism in its Evangelical guise. It was still not easy.
Old habits and perceptions die hard, but I refused to let mere feelings
and biases interfere with the wondrous process of illumination which
overpowered me by God's grace. I waited expectantly for just one last
impetus to fully surrender myself. The unpredictable course of
conversion came to an end on December 6, 1990, while I was reading
Cardinal Newman's meditation on "Hope in God the Creator" and in a
moment decisively realized that I had already ceased to offer any
resistance to the Catholic Church. At the end, in most converts'
experience, an icy fear sets in, similar to the cold feet of pre-marriage
jitters. In an instant, this final obstacle vanished, and a tangible
"emotional and theological peace" prevailed.
In the three years since I converted, some astonishing things have
occurred among our circle of friends (I don't claim credit for these,
other than maybe a tiny influence, but rather, marvel at the ways in
which God moves people's hearts). Four people have returned to the
Church of their childhood and three, like myself, have converted from
lifelong Protestantism. These include my former pastor, Al and his
wife, Sally, one of my best friends and frequent evangelistic partner,
Dan Grajek and his wife Lori, Dan's longtime friend Joe Polgar, who
had lapsed into virtual paganism for years, another friend Terri
Navarra, and the daughter, Jennifer, of a friend, Tom McGlynn.
Additionally, another couple we know converted to Eastern
Orthodoxy, a second is seriously thinking about the same, and a third
couple may convert to Catholicism. Needless to say, many of our
mutual Protestant friends view these occurrences with dumbfounded
trepidation. One of my former pastors, in the most heated encounter
since my conversion, called me a "blasphemer" because I believed
there was more to Christian Tradition than simply that which is
contained in the Bible! Another good friend who is a Baptist minister
said that although I had made a terrible mistake, I was still saved
because of his belief in eternal security! All in all, it has, thankfully,
been fairly smooth sailing among our Evangelical Protestant friends.
Many ignore our Catholicism altogether.
I believe that all Catholics can share in such experiences as I've been
describing, in the sense that each new discovery of some Catholic
truth is similarly exhilarating. As we all grow in our faith, let us rejoice
in the abundant well-springs of delight, as well as instructive times of
suffering which God provides for us in his Body, fully manifested in
the Catholic Church. I feel very much at home in it, as much as could
be expected this side of heaven.
Patty Patrick Bonds Conversion
THE JOURNEY HOME (February 2002)
I was born and raised a Baptist. As a Baptist I enjoyed a close,
intimate walk with God. I read His Word and I obeyed Him and He
was everything to me. I was willing to follow Him anywhere and serve
Him in any capacity. I never dreamed He would lead me far from my
upbringing and to a place I would have never chosen to go.
I believed that any Catholic who had genuine faith in Christ and
respected the Bible as the Word of God would follow Christ out of the
Catholic Church. I honestly believed there were only a few misled
Christians in the Catholic Church.
One day I came across the writings of St. Patrick of Ireland. I was
looking for historical evidence of his existence, but never dreamed I
would discover God’s will for my life. What I found in the
writings of St. Patrick was evidence of deep devotion to Christ and a
spiritual intimacy with Christ that I knew right away was true
Christianity. He was my brother. Yet he was also a Catholic Bishop.
This birthed in me a desire to understand Church history and when
and where the Catholic Church had gone wrong (since my assumption
from childhood was that the Catholic Church was apostate).
(See the Catholic Encyclopedia article on St. Patrick of Ireland )
For the next several months I read the writings of those men who had
learned the Christian faith from the very mouth of Christ and the
Apostles. I began to familiarize myself with the culture and time of the
Apostles and realized that Christianity in its earliest days was not
Bible centered (indeed most of the NT was not written yet and later
was not available for the masses) but Tradition centered. I learned that
when the early Christians went to Church their services were not
sermon centered but centered around the Eucharist, the Lord’s
Supper, which was not seen as a symbol but as the actual Body,
Blood, Soul and Divinity of Our Lord Jesus Christ. It was guarded and
protected as such. Not a crumb was to be lost nor a drop spilt. I was
shocked to find that the early Church did not even resemble my own
Baptist church.
This led to many more months of earnest study of the Catholic faith.
What I discovered is that everything I had been taught about the
Catholic Church as a Baptist had been erroneous. Every objection that
I had been engrained with since childhood was a falsehood about the
Catholic Church and was easily refuted by an honest look at Church
history.
By coming to an understanding of the time and culture and beliefs of
the Early Church, my Bible began to read very differently. I realized
that no document, even the inspired Word of God, can interpret itself.
No one comes to Scripture without a grid through which they interpret
it. My grid had always been very Protestant and very anti-
sacramental. But after investigating the Early Church, I could clearly
see that the Bible was a Catholic book; written by Catholics, for
Catholics, canonized by the Bishops of the Catholic Church and
preserved for Catholics for millennia to come.
I also discovered that I was one of many Christians devoted to Christ
and willing to follow Him anywhere even at great personal loss that
were reversing the mistakes of the Reformation and flocking back
home to the One Church Christ established on this earth. I discovered
through a series of books called, Surprised by Truth, that I was one of
many that were headed home to Rome. (My story has been included
in the third edition if you would like to learn more).
May God grant you the openness to see Him in His Holy Roman
Catholic Church.
Patty Patrick Bonds MI
Beacon, NY 12508
Submitted on 5 December 2006
Hi Tom
First off you have a BEAUTIFUL site and the Rosary movie is
heart rending.
I was a devout Atheist up until an accident changed my life as I
Knew it. I was brought up Catholic but only went through the
motions. On Feb 4, 2004, on my way home from work at night, I
stopped to help out an accident victim. The car I stopped for was
on its side and leaking Gas. The driver, a young woman of 17 and
drunk, was the Driver. I got her and her boyfriend to safety when
an Off-Duty Policeman assisted me. The Officer asked me if I
could slow Traffic at my end of the Road so he can set-up Flares at
his end; there was SO MUCH Debris. I was soon Struck by a
Pickup
Truck being driven by a Drver who was asleep at the wheel.
I could See and Hear but could not move. I was Dead. I was
waiting for something to happen that you hear about..a Light..a
Tunnel..passed over Relatives..etc. Nothing was happening; I was
Scared and began to Pray. Now I know myself to be a logical
person But " I KNOW WHAT I SAW "...The Holy Mother !
appeared to me, my Bloody Head was in her Hands . The Holy
Mother stroked my head and assured me I would see my Family
again and to PRAY..ALWAYS. I was then being ready for Heli-
Vac. The Pilot turned to me and told me to "Enjoy the Ride".
The Pilot had a name on his Helmet, I will NEVER forget it,
SATAN. I still recall this day after to this day. I am now a FIRM
believer in God and his WONDERFUL plan for us. As the Holy
Mother instructed me, I Pray always, I Bible study, I also have a
never ending Hunger to read about, and strive to Please Jesus and
get His Word out. I Feel things and See things in ways I never did
before. Praise God. I Love Life and my Family God gave me to
enjoy.
Thank you for reading this so to share my AWAKENING.
God does exist and Loves you.
Newman's Conversion Story in His Own Words (Brief)
[See also the Spanish version]
About the middle of June (1839) I began to study and master the
history of the Monophysites (1) . . . It was during this course of
reading that for the first time a doubt came upon me of the
tenableness of Anglicanism . . . In the middle of the fifth century, I
found . . . Christendom of the 16th and the l9th centuries reflected. I
saw my face in that mirror, and I was a Monophysite. The church of
the Via Media (2) was in the position of the Oriental communion,
Rome was where she now is; and the Protestants were the Eutychians
(3) . . . It was difficult to make out how the Eutychians or
Monophysites were heretics, unless Protestants and Anglicans were
heretics also; difficult to find arguments against the Tridentine Fathers
(4), which did not tell against the Fathers of Chalcedon (5); difficult to
condemn the Popes of the 16th century, without condemning the
Popes of the 5th. The drama of religion, and the combat and truth and
error, were ever one and the same. The principles and proceedings of
the Church now, were those of the Church then; the principles and
proceedings of heretics then, were those of Protestants now . . . The
Church then, as now, might be called peremptory and stern, resolute,
overbearing, and relentless; and heretics were shifting, changeable,
reserved, and deceitful, ever courting civil power, and never agreeing
together. (6)
In the summer of 1841 . . . my trouble returned on me. The ghost had
come a second time. In the Arian (7) History I found the very same
phenomenon, in a far bolder shape, which I had found in the
Monophysite . . . I saw clearly, that in the history of Arianism, the
pure Arians were the Protestants, the semi-Arians (8) were the
Anglicans, and that Rome now was what it was. The truth lay, not
with the Via Media, but in what was called "the extreme party." (9)
Whereas the Creeds tell us that the Church is One, Holy, Catholic,
and Apostolic, I could not prove that the Anglican communion was an
integral part of the one Church, on the ground of its being Apostolic or
Catholic, without reasoning in favour of what are commonly called
the Roman corruptions; and I could not defend our separation from
Rome without using arguments prejudicial to those great doctrines
concerning our Lord, which are the very foundation of the Christian
religion. (10)
Dec. 24, 1841 . . . There is indefinitely more in the Fathers against our
own state of alienation from Christendom than against the Tridentine
Decrees. (11)
For two years I was . . . in a state of serious doubt . . . I could not go to
Rome, while I thought what I did of the devotions she sanctioned to
the Blessed Virgin and the Saints. (12)
The fact of the operation from first to last of that principle of
development is an argument in favour of Roman and Primitive
Christianity. (13)
Who can determine when it is, that the scales in the balance of
opinion begin to turn, and what was a greater probability in behalf of a
belief becomes a positive doubt against it? (14)
I had been deceived greatly once; how could I be sure that I was not
deceived a second time? . . . I determined to write an Essay on
Doctrinal Development; and then, if, at the end of it, my convictions
in favour of the Roman Church were not weaker, to make up my mind
to seek admission into her fold . . . Before I got to the end, I resolved
to be received . . . (15)
From the time that I became a Catholic (16) . . . I . . . have had no
anxiety of heart whatever. I have been in perfect peace and
contentment. I never have had one doubt . . . It was like coming into
port after a rough sea; and my happiness on that score remains to this
day without interruption." (17)
FOOTNOTES
1. Monophysitism: A heresy of the 5th century holding that Christ had a Divine Nature alone
(the orthodox view is that He had Divine and Human Natures).
2. Via Media: The view that Anglicanism is intermediate between Catholicism and
Protestantism, and is a "branch" of the universal Catholic Church..
3. Eutychianism: An extreme form of Monophysitism which denied that the manhood of
Christ was consubstantial with ours.
4. Tridentine Fathers: Referring to the Bishops at the Council of Trent (1545-63).
5. The Council of Chalcedon in 451 condemned the Monophysites.
6. Newman, Apologia Pro Vita Sua, Garden City, NY: Doubleday Image, 1956 (originally
1864), pp.217-218.
7. Arianism: A heresy of the 4th century which held that Jesus was created and not eternally
God the Son.
8. Semi-Arianism: A group between orthodoxy and Arianism, but closer to orthodoxy.
9. Newman, ibid., pp.238-9.
10. Ibid., p.248.
11. Ibid., p.255.
12. Ibid., pp.275-6.
13. Ibid., pp.286-7.
14. Ibid., p.300.
15. Ibid., pp.309-310,313.
16. Newman had converted 19 years before this work was written (in 1864).
17. Newman, ibid., p.317.
My Odyssey From Evangelicalism to Catholicism
Dave Armstrong
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
[originally written on December 9, 1990 / revised: July 1992 /
expanded version: 1993. This was my draft of what was later
somewhat edited and included in Surprised by Truth with ten other
conversion stories. That book (1994; edited by Patrick Madrid) has
now sold over 300,000 copies: the highest total (I understand) of any
Catholic book besides the Catechism. Unfortunately, by agreement, I
never received one red cent. Oh well: lots of advertising of my name,
anyway, which counts for something when one is trying to live as a
full-time apologist. Another heavily-edited (I would even say,
"butchered") version of this story was published in This Rock in
September 1993 (my first time published in that important periodical) ]
**********
I was received into the Catholic Church in February 1991 by Fr. John
Hardon, an act which as recently as a year earlier, would have seemed
to me absolutely inconceivable. Not much in my background would
have indicated this surprising turn of events, but such is God's ever
inscrutable mercy and providence.
My first exposure to Christianity came from the United Methodist
Church, the denomination in which I was raised. The church we
attended, in a working-class neighborhood of Detroit, appeared to me,
even as a child in the early 1960s, to be in decline, sociologically
speaking, as the average age of the members was about fifty or so
years. In my studies as an Evangelical later, I learned that shrinking
and aging congregations were one of the marks of the deterioration of
mainline Protestantism.
As it turned out, our church actually folded in 1968, and after that, I
barely attended church at all for the next nine years. My early
religious upbringing was not totally without benefit, though, as I
gained a respect for God which I never relinquished, a comprehension
of His love for mankind, and an appreciation for the sense of the
sacred and basic moral precepts.
At any rate, for whatever reason, I didn't sustain an ongoing interest in
Christianity at this time. In 1969, at the age of eleven, I first came in
contact with the quintessential altar call of Fundamentalist
Christianity at a Baptist Church which we visited two or three times. I
went up front to get "saved," perfectly sincere, but without the
knowledge or force of will required (by more thoughtful Evangelical
standards) to carry out this temporary resolve.
During this period, I became fascinated with the supernatural, but
unfortunately, it got channelled into a vague, catch-all occultism. I
dabbled, with great seriousness into ESP, telepathy, the Ouija board,
astral projection, even voodoo (with a vicious gym teacher in mind!). I
read about Houdini and Uri Geller, among others.
Meanwhile, my brother Gerry, who is ten years older than I am,
converted, in 1971, to "Jesus Freak" Evangelicalism, a trend which
was at its peak at that time. He underwent quite a remarkable
transformation out of a drug-filled rock band culture and personal
struggles, and started preaching zealously to our family. This was a
novel spectacle for me to observe. I had already been influenced by
the hippie counterculture, and had always been a bit of a
nonconformist, so the Jesus Movement held a strange fascination for
me, although I had no intention of joining it.
I prided myself on my "moderation" with regard to religious matters.
Like most nominal Christians and outright unbelievers, I reacted to
any display of earnest and devout Christianity with a mixture of fear,
amusement, and condescension, thinking that such behavior was
"improper", fanatical, and outside of mainstream American culture.
During the early 1970s I occasionally visited Messiah Lutheran
Church in Detroit where my brother attended, along with his "Jesus
Freak," long-haired friends, and would squirm in my seat under the
conviction of the powerful sermons of Pastor Dick Bieber, the likes of
which I had never heard. I remember thinking that what he was
preaching was undeniably true, and that if I were to "get saved" there
would be no room for middle ground or fence-sitting. Therefore, I was
reluctant, to say the least, because I thought it would be the end of fun
and fitting-in with my friends. Because of my rebelliousness and pride,
God had to use more drastic methods to wake me up.
In 1977 I experienced a severe depression for six months, which was
totally uncharacteristic of my temperament before or since. The
immediate causes were the pressures of late adolescence, but in
retrospect it is clear that God was bringing home to me the ultimate
meaninglessness of my life - - a vacuous and futile individualistic
quest for happiness without purpose or relationship with God. I was
brought, staggering, to the end of myself. It was a frightening
existential crisis in which I had no choice but to cry out to God. He
was quick to respond.
It so happened that at Easter 1977 the superb Franco Zeffirelli film
Jesus of Nazareth (still my favorite Christian movie) was on television.
I had always enjoyed Bible movies, such as The Ten Commandments.
They brought the biblical personalities to life, and the element of
drama (as an art form) communicated the vitality of Christianity in a
unique and effective way. Jesus, as portrayed in this movie, made an
extraordinary impression on me, and the timing couldn't have been
better. He seemed like the ultimate nonconformist, which greatly
appealed to me. I marvelled at the way He dealt with people, and got
the feeling that you could never expect what He would say or do - -
always something with unparalleled insight or impact. I began to
comprehend, with the help of my brother, the heart of the gospel for
the first time: what the Cross and the Passion meant, and some of the
basic points of theology and soteriology (the theology of salvation)
that I had never thought about before. I also learned that Jesus was
not only the Son of God, but God the Son, the Second Person of the
Trinity, which, incredibly, I had either not heard previously, or simply
didn't comprehend if I had heard it. I started to read the Bible
seriously for the first time in my life (the Living Bible translation,
which is the most informal paraphrase).
It was the combination of my depression and newfound knowledge of
Christianity that caused me to decide to follow Jesus as my Lord and
Savior in a much more serious fashion, in July 1977 what I would still
regard as a "conversion to Christ," and what Evangelicals view as the
"born-again" experience or getting "saved." I continue to look at this
as a valid and indispensable spiritual step, even though, as a Catholic,
I would, of course, interpret it in a somewhat different way than I did
formerly. Despite my initial burst of zeal, I again settled into
lukewarmness for three years until August 1980, when I finally
yielded my whole being to God, and experienced a profound
"renewal" in my spiritual life, as it were.
Throughout the 1980s I attended Lutheran, Assembly of God, and
non-denominational churches with strong connections to the "Jesus
Movement," characterized by youth, spontaneity of worship,
contemporary music, and warm fellowship. Many of my friends were
former Catholics. I knew little of Catholicism until the early 1980s. I
regarded it as an exotic, stern, and unnecessarily ritualistic
"denomination," which held little appeal for me. I wasn't by nature
attracted to liturgy, and didn't believe in sacraments at all, although I
always had great reverence for the "Lord's Supper" and believed
something real was imparted in it.
On the other hand, I was never overtly anti-Catholic. Having been
active in apologetics and counter-cult work (specializing in Jehovah's
Witnesses), I quickly realized that Catholicism was entirely different
from the cults, in that it had correct "central doctrines," such as the
Trinity and the bodily Resurrection of Christ, as well as an admirable
historical legitimacy; fully Christian, albeit vastly inferior to
Evangelicalism.
I was, you might say, a typical Evangelical of the sort who had an
above-average amateur theological interest. I became familiar with the
works of many of the "big names": C.S. Lewis, Francis Schaeffer, Josh
McDowell, A.W. Tozer, Billy Graham, Hal Lindsey, John Stott,
Chuck Colson, Christianity Today magazine, Keith Green and Last
Days Ministries, the Jesus People in Chicago and Cornerstone
magazine, Inter-Varsity Christian Fellowship (a campus organization),
as well as the Christian music scene: all in all, quite beneficial
influences and not to be regretted at all.
My strong interest in both evangelism and apologetics led me to
become, with my church's permission, a missionary on college
campuses for four years. I also got involved in the pro-life movement,
and eventually Operation Rescue.
It quickly became apparent to me that the Catholic rescuers were just
as committed to Christ and godliness as Evangelicals. In retrospect,
there is no substitute for the extended close observation of devout
Catholics. I had met countless Evangelicals who exhibited what I
thought to be a serious walk with Christ, but rarely ever Catholics of
like intensity. I began to fellowship with my Catholic brethren at
Rescues, and sometimes in jail, including priests and nuns. Although
still unconvinced theologically, my personal admiration for orthodox
Catholics
skyrocketed.
In January 1990 I began an ecumenical discussion group which I
moderated. Three knowledgeable Catholic friends from the Rescue
movement, John McAlpine, Leno Poli, and Don McSween, started
attending. Their claims for the Church, particularly papal and conciliar
infallibility, challenged me to plunge into a massive research project
on that subject. I believed I had found many errors and contradictions
throughout history. Later I realized, though, that my many "examples"
didn't even fall into the category of infallible pronouncements, as
defined by the Vatican Council of 1870. I was also a bit dishonest
because I would knowingly overlook strong historical facts which
confirmed the Catholic position, such as the widespread early
acceptance of the Real Presence, the authority of the Bishop, and the
communion of the saints.
In the meantime, I was reading exclusively Catholic books (and all the
short Catholic Answers tracts), with an open mind, and my respect
and understanding of Catholicism grew by leaps and bounds. I began
(providentially) with The Spirit of Catholicism by Karl Adam, a book
too extraordinary to summarize adequately. It is, I believe, a nearly
perfect book about Catholicism as a worldview and a way of life,
especially for a person acquainted with basic Catholic theology. I read
books by Christopher Dawson, the great cultural historian, Joan
Andrews (a heroine of the Rescue movement), and Thomas Merton,
the famous Trappist monk, which all extremely impressed me.
My three friends at our group discussion continued to calmly offer
replies to nearly all of my hundreds of questions. I was amazed by the
realization that Catholicism seemed to have "thought out" everything -
it was a marvelously complex and consistent belief system
unparalleled by any portion of Evangelicalism.
At this time I became seriously troubled by the Protestant (and my
own) free and easy acceptance of contraception. I came to believe, in
agreement with the Church, that once one regards sexual pleasure as
an end in itself, then the so-called "right to abortion" is logically not
far away. My Evangelical pro-life friends might easily draw the line,
but the less spiritually-minded have not in fact done so, as has been
borne out by the sexual revolution in full force since the widespread
use of the Pill began around 1960.
Once a couple thinks that they can thwart even God's will in the
matter of a possible conception, then the notion of terminating a
pregnancy follows by a certain diabolical logic devoid of the spiritual
guidance of the Church. In this, as in other areas such as divorce, the
Church is ineffably wise and truly progressive. G.K. Chesterton and
Ronald Knox, the great apologists, could see the writing on the wall
already by the 1930s.
I was utterly shocked by the facts that no Christian body had accepted
contraception until the Anglicans in 1930, and the inevitable
progression in nations of contraception to abortion, as shown
irrefutably by Fr. Paul Marx. Finally, a book entitled The Teaching of
"Humanae Vitae" by John Ford, Germain Grisez, et al, convinced me
of the moral distinction between contraception and Natural Family
Planning and put me over the edge.
I now accepted a very "un-Protestant" belief, but still didn't even
dream of becoming Catholic (which is, of course, unthinkable for an
Evangelical). Yet I was falling prey to Chesterton's principle of
conversion - - that one cannot be fair to Catholicism without starting
to admire it and becoming convinced of it.
Meanwhile, my wife Judy, who was raised Catholic and became a
Protestant before we dated, had also been independently convinced of
the wrongness of contraception. She returned to the Church on the
day I was received. What a joy unity is! By July 1990, then, I believed
Catholicism had the best moral theology of any Christian body, and
greatly respected its sense of community, devotion, and contemplation.
Moral theology and intangible mystical elements began the ball of
conversion rolling for me, and increasingly rang true deep within my
soul; beyond, but not opposed to, the rational calculations of my mind
- what Cardinal Newman terms the "Illative Sense."
My Catholic friend, John, tiring of my constant rhetoric about
Catholic errors and additions through the centuries, suggested that I
read Newman's Essay on the Development of Christian Doctrine. This
book demolished the whole schema of Church history which I had
constructed. I thought, typically, that early Christianity was Protestant
and that Catholicism was a later corruption (although I placed the
collapse in the late Middle Ages rather than the usual time of
Constantine in the fourth century).
Martin Luther, so I reckoned, had discovered in Sola Scriptura the
means to scrape the accumulated Catholic barnacles off of the original
lean and clean Christian "ship." Newman, in contrast, exploded the
notion of a barnacle-free ship. Ships always got barnacles. The real
question was whether the ship would arrive at its destination.
Tradition, for Newman, was like a rudder and steering wheel, and was
absolutely necessary for guidance and direction. Newman brilliantly
demonstrated the characteristics of true developments, as opposed to
corruptions, within the visible and historically continuous Church
instituted by Christ. I found myself unable and unwilling to refute his
reasoning, and a crucial piece of the puzzle had been put into place -
Tradition was now plausible and self-evident to me.
Thus began what some call a "paradigm shift." While reading the
Essay I experienced a peculiar, intense, and inexpressibly mystical
feeling of reverence for the idea of a Church "one, holy, catholic and
apostolic." Catholicism was now thinkable and I was suddenly cast
into an intense crisis. I now believed in the visible Church and
suspected that it was infallible as well. Once I accepted Catholic
ecclesiology, the theology followed as a matter of course, and I
accepted it without difficulty (even the Marian doctrines).
My Catholic friends had been tilling the rocky soils of my stubborn
mind and will for almost a year, planting "Catholic seeds," which now
rapidly took root and sprouted, to their great surprise. I had fought the
hardest just prior to reading Newman, in a desperate attempt to
salvage my Protestantism, much like a drowning man just before he
succumbs! I continued reading, now actively trying to persuade
myself fully of Catholicism, going through Newman's autobiography,
Tom Howard's Evangelical Is Not Enough, which helped me
appreciate the genius of liturgy for the first time, and two books by
Chesterton on Catholicism.
At about this time I had a conversation with an old friend, Al Kresta,
who had also been my pastor for a few years, and whose theological
opinions I held in very high regard. I admitted to him that I was
seriously troubled by certain elements of Protestantism, and might,
perhaps (but it was a far-fetched notion) think of becoming a Catholic.
To my amazement, he told me that he, too, was heading in the same
general direction, citing, in particular, the problem that the
formulation and pronouncement of the Canon of Scripture poses for
Protestants and their "Bible-only" premise. These types of unusual
"confirming" events helped to create a strong sense that something
strange was going on during the bewildering period just preceding my
actual conversion. Al was in such a theological crisis (as was I), that
he resigned his pastorate within two months of our conversation.
Also at this time I had the great privilege of meeting Fr. John Hardon,
the eminent Jesuit catechist, and attending his informal class on
spirituality. This gave me the opportunity to learn personally from an
authoritative Catholic priest, who is a delightful and humble man as
well. After seven tense weeks of alternately questioning my sanity and
arriving at immensely exciting new plateaus of discovery, the final
death blow came in just the fashion I had suspected. I knew that if I
was to reject Protestantism, then I had to examine its historical roots:
the so-called Protestant Reformation. I had previously read some
material on Martin Luther, and considered him one of my biggest
heroes. I accepted the standard textbook myth of Luther as the bold,
righteous rebel against the darkness of Catholic tyranny and
superstition added on to "early Christianity."
But when I studied a large portion of the six-volume biography
Luther, by the German Jesuit Hartmann Grisar, my opinion of Luther
was turned upside down. Grisar convinced me that the foundational
tenets of the Protestant Revolution were altogether tenuous. I had
always rejected Luther's notions of absolute predestination and the
total depravity of mankind. Now I realized that if man had a free will,
he did not have to be merely declared righteous in a judicial, abstract
sense, but could actively participate in his redemption and actually be
made righteous by God. This, in a nutshell, is the classic debate over
Justification.
I learned many highly disturbing facts about Luther; for example, his
radically subjective existential methodology, his disdain for reason
and historical precedent, and his dictatorial intolerance of opposing
viewpoints, including those of his fellow Protestants. These and other
discoveries were stunning, and convinced me beyond doubt that he
was not really a "reformer" of the "pure," pre-Nicene Church, but
rather, a revolutionary who created a novel theology in many, though
not all, respects. The myth was annihilated.
Now I was "unconvinced" of the standard Protestant concept of the
invisible, "rediscovered" church. In the end, my innate love of history
played a crucial part in my forsaking Protestantism, which tends to
give very little attention to history (as indeed is necessary in order to
retain any degree of plausibility over against Catholicism).
At this point, it became, in my opinion, an intellectual and moral duty
to abandon Protestantism in its Evangelical guise. It was still not easy.
Old habits and perceptions die hard, but I refused to let mere feelings
and biases interfere with the wondrous process of illumination which
overpowered me by God's grace. I waited expectantly for just one last
impetus to fully surrender myself. The unpredictable course of
conversion came to an end on December 6, 1990, while I was reading
Cardinal Newman's meditation on "Hope in God the Creator" and in a
moment decisively realized that I had already ceased to offer any
resistance to the Catholic Church. At the end, in most converts'
experience, an icy fear sets in, similar to the cold feet of pre-marriage
jitters. In an instant, this final obstacle vanished, and a tangible
"emotional and theological peace" prevailed.
In the three years since I converted, some astonishing things have
occurred among our circle of friends (I don't claim credit for these,
other than maybe a tiny influence, but rather, marvel at the ways in
which God moves people's hearts). Four people have returned to the
Church of their childhood and three, like myself, have converted from
lifelong Protestantism. These include my former pastor, Al and his
wife, Sally, one of my best friends and frequent evangelistic partner,
Dan Grajek and his wife Lori, Dan's longtime friend Joe Polgar, who
had lapsed into virtual paganism for years, another friend Terri
Navarra, and the daughter, Jennifer, of a friend, Tom McGlynn.
Additionally, another couple we know converted to Eastern
Orthodoxy, a second is seriously thinking about the same, and a third
couple may convert to Catholicism. Needless to say, many of our
mutual Protestant friends view these occurrences with dumbfounded
trepidation. One of my former pastors, in the most heated encounter
since my conversion, called me a "blasphemer" because I believed
there was more to Christian Tradition than simply that which is
contained in the Bible! Another good friend who is a Baptist minister
said that although I had made a terrible mistake, I was still saved
because of his belief in eternal security! All in all, it has, thankfully,
been fairly smooth sailing among our Evangelical Protestant friends.
Many ignore our Catholicism altogether.
I believe that all Catholics can share in such experiences as I've been
describing, in the sense that each new discovery of some Catholic
truth is similarly exhilarating. As we all grow in our faith, let us rejoice
in the abundant well-springs of delight, as well as instructive times of
suffering which God provides for us in his Body, fully manifested in
the Catholic Church. I feel very much at home in it, as much as could
be expected this side of heaven.
Patty Patrick Bonds Conversion
THE JOURNEY HOME (February 2002)
I was born and raised a Baptist. As a Baptist I enjoyed a close,
intimate walk with God. I read His Word and I obeyed Him and He
was everything to me. I was willing to follow Him anywhere and serve
Him in any capacity. I never dreamed He would lead me far from my
upbringing and to a place I would have never chosen to go.
I believed that any Catholic who had genuine faith in Christ and
respected the Bible as the Word of God would follow Christ out of the
Catholic Church. I honestly believed there were only a few misled
Christians in the Catholic Church.
One day I came across the writings of St. Patrick of Ireland. I was
looking for historical evidence of his existence, but never dreamed I
would discover God’s will for my life. What I found in the
writings of St. Patrick was evidence of deep devotion to Christ and a
spiritual intimacy with Christ that I knew right away was true
Christianity. He was my brother. Yet he was also a Catholic Bishop.
This birthed in me a desire to understand Church history and when
and where the Catholic Church had gone wrong (since my assumption
from childhood was that the Catholic Church was apostate).
(See the Catholic Encyclopedia article on St. Patrick of Ireland )
For the next several months I read the writings of those men who had
learned the Christian faith from the very mouth of Christ and the
Apostles. I began to familiarize myself with the culture and time of the
Apostles and realized that Christianity in its earliest days was not
Bible centered (indeed most of the NT was not written yet and later
was not available for the masses) but Tradition centered. I learned that
when the early Christians went to Church their services were not
sermon centered but centered around the Eucharist, the Lord’s
Supper, which was not seen as a symbol but as the actual Body,
Blood, Soul and Divinity of Our Lord Jesus Christ. It was guarded and
protected as such. Not a crumb was to be lost nor a drop spilt. I was
shocked to find that the early Church did not even resemble my own
Baptist church.
This led to many more months of earnest study of the Catholic faith.
What I discovered is that everything I had been taught about the
Catholic Church as a Baptist had been erroneous. Every objection that
I had been engrained with since childhood was a falsehood about the
Catholic Church and was easily refuted by an honest look at Church
history.
By coming to an understanding of the time and culture and beliefs of
the Early Church, my Bible began to read very differently. I realized
that no document, even the inspired Word of God, can interpret itself.
No one comes to Scripture without a grid through which they interpret
it. My grid had always been very Protestant and very anti-
sacramental. But after investigating the Early Church, I could clearly
see that the Bible was a Catholic book; written by Catholics, for
Catholics, canonized by the Bishops of the Catholic Church and
preserved for Catholics for millennia to come.
I also discovered that I was one of many Christians devoted to Christ
and willing to follow Him anywhere even at great personal loss that
were reversing the mistakes of the Reformation and flocking back
home to the One Church Christ established on this earth. I discovered
through a series of books called, Surprised by Truth, that I was one of
many that were headed home to Rome. (My story has been included
in the third edition if you would like to learn more).
May God grant you the openness to see Him in His Holy Roman
Catholic Church.
Patty Patrick Bonds MI