Returning to Catholicism, Part III

It was really at the start of 2009 that my draw to the Catholic Church really began.  One of the first things to happen was getting a job at Avila University right here in KC.  It is a small private college sponsored by the Sisters of St. Joseph of Carondolet.  While I didn't go through the orientation process and learn the history of the Sisters (that would come in the fall when I went from Adjunct teaching to Artist-in-Residence), I was still impressed by the sense of community I felt there.  Their emphasis on serving the dear neighbor was reflected in many different ways.

Of course, Carrie and I were also preparing for the birth of Rachel.  One thing we had to think about, then, was whether we wanted her to be baptized or dedicated, both of which were offered at our church.  Most of what I had been exposed to, and most particularly in college, were people who believed that baptism was something reserved for those who chose to be baptized, i.e. not babies.  Still, as I began to consider it, I really began to wonder about the history and tradition of baptism.  If the Catholics had been doing it for a looooong time, and if those early Protestant reformers continued the practice, then it really seemed like that might be the way to go.  The weight of history seemed rather overwhelming on the issue to me.  Little did I know that this was my first foray into considering the merit of tradition...

Rachel was baptized on May 31.

That summer, I also traveled with the Avila choir to Italy, which included a stay in Rome and tours of Vatican City.  I experienced somewhat conflicting feelings concerning Catholicism while I was there.  On one hand, it was hard not to have a strong sense of spirituality entering these beautiful churches, but at the same time I was turned off by the display of wealth and power that I also saw.  We attended several Masses, including a Latin mass in St. Peter's and a small, intimate Mass at St. Mark's in Venice (I should add that I studied Latin in college, translating sections of St. Augustine's and St. Patrick's writings at different times, so that Latin mass was very moving).  These were amazing experiences, and I once again found myself being drawn to the beauty of the Mass.  Then again, I also found all the statues and veneration of relics to be a little disconcerting.

Immediately after the trip, I probably would have said that I felt a stronger conviction that certain aspects of the Catholic faith were wrong, and that I could never be Catholic.  In hindsight, though, being further exposed to the profound beauty of the Mass in such houses of worship sparked in me an almost irresistible desire to be a part of it on a regular basis.  It was hard participate in the Mass (even if I could not do so fully) and then return to a church were contemporary music and video screens were the norm.

When school started up again in the fall, it really was sort of the beginning of the end for me, so to speak.  The orientation day consisted of a relatively lengthy presentation about the Sisters, and I was just blonw away.  I wanted to be a part of this Church, but didn't know how I could do that.  Moreover, our orientation continued throughout the semester through biweekly meetings.  That may seem like a terrible idea, but we began every meeting discussing different values that were part of the Sister's identity, such as Solidarity, Dignity of Work, et. al.

I had several conversations with different people over the coming months, that often included me saying, "I really want to be Catholic, but I just can't."  I felt so drawn to the Church but couldn't wrap my head around abandoning Protestantism.  So I began to look into these issues more closely, and also began attending Mass.

I only came across this quote today by G.K. Chesterton, from his The Catholic Church and Conversion, but I think it absolutely describes what I was feeling not too many months ago.

"The moment men cease to pull against it [the Catholic Church] they feel a tug towards it. The moment they cease to shout it down they begin to listen to it with pleasure. The moment they try to be fair to it they begin to be fond of it. But when that affection has passed a certain point it begins to take on the tragic and menacing grandeur of a great love affair. The man has exactly the same sense of having committed or compromised himself; of having been in a sense entrapped, even if he is glad to be entrapped."

Little did I know that it was most likely only a matter of time.  While I studied, I found that even though I had a fair amount of exposure to the Church, I still had many misconceptions.  What before I had considered at best wrong and at worst heretical suddenly was beginning to make entirely too much sense.  That isn't to say that I immediately embraced all of Catholic doctrine (there is soooo much I have to learn and still much that I am not fully sure of), but this research, combined with the strong pull I was already feeling, opened my eyes to a new possibility.  What before had been reprehensible now seemed increasingly probable.

There are of course many details that I'm omitting from this post, specifically those misconceptions and struggles with doctrine.  It really wasn't long, though, before I was meeting with the pastor and my small group to talk about leaving the church to become Catholic.  I've been attending Mass almost every day since early December (Mass every morning is so wonderful, but that's another post) and haven't done much looking back.  I won't actually be able to join our parish's RCIA (Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults) until next September, so I've a while to wait before the process even begins officially.  I was initially miffed that I wouldn't be able to join the Church for such a long time, but now I think it really is for the best.  With the remarkable acceleration towards conversion, this is a wonderful opportunity to pause, reflect, and slow down, and in the end I think joining the Church will be all the sweeter.