Authors: Marcus Grodi
Tags: #Catholics -- Biography; Coming Home Network International; Conversion, #Catholics -- Biography, #Coming Home Network International, #Conversion
I continued studying Scripture and Catholic books and spent many
hours debating with Protestant friends and colleagues over difficult
issues such as Mary, praying to the saints, indulgences, purgatory,
priestly celibacy, and the Eucharist. Eventually I realized that
the single most important issue was authority. All of this wrangling
over how to interpret Scripture gets one nowhere if there is no
way to know with infallible certitude that one's interpretation
is the right one.
The teaching authority of the Church in the Magisterium centered
on the seat of Peter. If I could accept this doctrine, I knew
I could trust the Church on everything else.
I read Father Stanley Jaki's
And on This Rock
and
The Keys to
the Kingdom
, as well as the documents of Vatican II and earlier
councils, especially Trent. I carefully studied Scripture and
the writings of Calvin, Luther, and the other Reformers to test
the Catholic argument. Time after time, I found that the Protestant
arguments against the primacy of Peter simply were not biblical
or historical. It became clear that the Catholic position was
the biblical one.
The Holy Spirit delivered a literal
coup de grace
to my remaining
anti-Catholic biases when I read Blessed John Henry Newman's landmark
book
An Essay on the Development of Christian Doctrine.
In fact,
my objections evaporated when I read a passage in the middle of
this book. Here Newman explains the gradual development of papal
authority this way: "It is a less difficulty that the Papal supremacy
was not formally acknowledged in the second century, than that
there was no formal acknowledgment on the part of the Church of
the doctrine of the Holy Trinity till the fourth. No doctrine
is defined till violated" (4, 3, 4).
My study of Catholic claims took about a year and a half. During
this period, Marilyn and I studied together, sharing as a couple
the fears, hopes, and challenges that accompanied us along the
path to Rome. We attended Mass weekly, making the drive to a parish
far enough away (my former Presbyterian church was less than a
mile from our home) to avoid the controversy and confusion that
would undoubtedly arise if my former parishioners knew that I
was investigating Rome.
We gradually began to feel comfortable doing all the things Catholics
did at Mass (except receiving Communion, of course). Doctrinally,
emotionally, and spiritually, we felt ready to enter the Church
formally. There remained, however, one barrier for us to surmount.
Before Marilyn and I met and fell in love, she had been divorced
after a brief marriage. Since we were Protestants when we met
and married, this posed no problem, as far as we and our denomination
were concerned. It wasn't until we felt we were ready to enter
the Catholic Church that we were informed that we couldn't unless
Marilyn received an annulment of her first marriage.
At first, we felt as if God were playing a joke on us! Then we
moved from shock to anger. It seemed so unfair and ridiculously
hypocritical: We could have committed almost any other sin, no
matter how heinous, and with one confession been adequately cleansed
for Church admission. But because of this one mistake, our entry
into the Catholic Church had been stopped dead in the water.
But then we remembered what had brought us to this point in our
spiritual pilgrimage: We were to trust God with all our hearts
and lean not on our own understanding. We were to acknowledge
Him and trust that He would direct our paths. It became evident
that this was a final test of perseverance sent by God.
So Marilyn began the difficult annulment investigation process,
and we waited. We continued attending Mass, remaining seated in
the pew, our hearts aching while those around us went forward
to receive the Lord in the Holy Eucharist. By not being able to
receive the Eucharist, we learned to appreciate the awesome privilege
that Jesus bestows on His beloved of receiving Him, Body and Blood,
Soul and Divinity, in the Blessed Sacrament. The Lord's promise
in Scripture became real to us during those Masses: "The Lord
disciplines him whom He loves" (Heb 12:6).
After a nine-month wait, we learned that Marilyn's annulment had
been granted. Without further delay, our marriage was blessed,
and we were received with great excitement and celebration into
the Catholic Church. It felt so incredibly good finally to be
home where we belonged. I wept quiet tears of joy and gratitude
that first Mass when I was able to walk forward with the rest
of my Catholic brothers and sisters to receive Jesus in Holy Communion.
I had asked the Lord many times in prayer, "What is truth?" He
answered me in Scripture by saying, "I am the Way, the Truth,
and the Life." I rejoice that now as a Catholic I not only can
know the Truth but can also receive Him in the Eucharist.
I think it is important to mention one more of Blessed John Henry
Newman's insights that made a crucial difference in the process
of my conversion to the Catholic Church. He once famously observed:
"To be deep in history is to cease to be a Protestant." This one
line summarizes a key reason why I abandoned Protestantism, bypassed
the Eastern Orthodox Churches, and became Catholic.
Newman was right. The more I read Church history and Scripture
the less I could comfortably remain Protestant. I saw that it
was the Catholic Church that was established by Jesus Christ,
and all the other claimants to the title "true church" had to
step aside. It was the Bible and Church history that made a Catholic
out of me, against my will (at least at first) and to my immense
surprise.
I also learned that the flip side of Newman's adage is equally
true: To cease to be deep in history is to
become
a Protestant.
That's why we Catholics must know
why
we believe what the Church
teaches as well as the history behind these truths of our salvation.
We must ready ourselves and our children so that we can "always
be prepared to make a defense to any one who calls [us] to account
for the hope that is in [us]" (1 Pt 3:15).
By boldly living and proclaiming our faith, many will hear Christ
speaking through us and will be brought to a knowledge of the
truth in all its fullness in the Catholic Church. God bless you
on your own journey of faith!
Marcus Grodi is the founder and president of The Coming Home Network
International. He is a frequent speaker and the host of two weekly EWTN programs:
The Journey Home
(television) and
Deep in Scripture
(radio). He writes for several Catholic periodicals and is the
author of
How Firm a Foundation
(CHResources, 2002) and
Thoughts
for the Journey Home
(CHResources, 2010). Marcus lives with his wife, Marilyn (see the following chapter), and their two youngest
sons, Peter and Richard, on a small farm near Zanesville, Ohio.
An earlier version of this story appeared in
Surprised By Truth: 11 Converts Give the Biblical and Historical Reasons for Becoming Catholic,
Patrick Madrid, ed. (Basilica, 1994).
former Presbyterian minister's wife
"I never wanted to be a minister's wife anyway!" This was the
tongue-in-cheek remark I made at the first
Coming Home Network
gathering in 1993. The statement had definitely been true until
I met my husband-to-be at the Second Presbyterian Church of Newark,
Ohio. Only a few months before, I had returned to the church -- I had not been attending any church at all. There, Marcus was
the new assistant minister and singles group coordinator.
I was a "baby" Christian struggling to live as one, becoming increasingly
aware of my sinfulness as well as my inability to make the needed
changes. I was also working in the field of alcoholism as an educator
and counselor. As I sent people to Alcoholics Anonymous, I knew
I needed a spiritual recovery as much as many of my clients.
A friend in our singles group gave me a verse that made sense
but was difficult to apply: "Delight in the Lord, and He will
give you the desires of your heart" (Ps 37:4). So I began praying
every day while running or when I'd wake up in the middle of the
night. I received counseling from the minister who later married
Marcus and me, and during a torturous two years of struggle and
backsliding, I desired to turn my life completely over to God.
I was miserable and, for most of my adult life, I had been living
"my way." I had "looked for love in all the wrong places," so
I really wasn't sure I knew how to recognize it when it was available.
I became more involved in the church, thinking that teaching high
school Sunday school and things like that were reasonable requests
from God. But marrying a minister? That was too much to ask.
The string of relationships behind me also made me feel completely
unworthy of such a role. I finally prayed the prayer, "Lord, not
my will, but Yours. If You want me to be single, that will be
fine."
Suddenly, I was completely released from a relationship at my
workplace that I believe Satan had been using to keep me almost
immobile. Soon after, God seemed to take a "two by four" to both
Marcus and me, and we became engaged.
Three months later, after much reminding from my fiance that "you
are a new creation in the Lord," we were married. (I didn't even
have to attend a school for ministers' wives-to-be.)
Wow, was married Christian life a rewarding, exciting roller coaster
ride! And with many challenges, too. I became the director of
a crisis pregnancy center, and JonMarc, our first child, was born
the day after our first anniversary. Hallelujah, being a mother
was the ultimate! Just living with Marcus has always been interesting.
He's always full of creative and sometimes scary ideas. I quickly
learned that I need not get overly excited with every new idea.
Usually, I prefer things to stay the same.
When we moved from our small country church in central Ohio to
a large Evangelical congregation in northeast Ohio, I thought,
this is it! This active, vibrant church was quite appealing, and
with buying a house, my roots were down for at least ten years
(or so I thought). Being a minister's wife was actually quite
fun. I was free to do whatever I wanted: teach Sunday school,
redecorate the nursery, and develop relationships with many like-minded
people.
Then Marcus got a bizarre idea. Being restless about his ministry
as well as issues in our Presbyterian denomination, he decided
to incorporate his science background into his present career
by studying bioethics. He left his pastoral position to study
fulltime while we also began looking at other denominations that
might be a better fit.
We both had become discouraged about how certain issues were handled
at higher levels of our denomination: abortion, inclusive language,
and more. Little did I know how much effect some of Scott Hahn's
tapes had had on Marcus. Leaving our church was a great disappointment
to me and to many in the church -- it had only been a year and
a half since we had started there.
Marcus was now driving to Cleveland each day to Case Western Reserve
University, while I was caring for our preschooler and our newborn,
named Peter (of all names). Isolation was beginning to take place,
since we still lived in our old neighborhood near our church and
friends, who didn't understand what we were doing, and neither
did I. We were church hopping for a summer while Marcus was studying,
not just genetics, but everything he could get his hands on about
the Catholic Church.
Miraculously, we both found ourselves open to the truths of the
Catholic Church, and much was making sense that never had before.
We had never thought in our wildest dreams about this historic
Church, which, at least to me, had always been one of myths and
misguided people. Marcus rather quickly came to the point where
he felt he could no longer be a Protestant, but neither of us
felt that we could actually become Catholics.
When we began attending Mass, it was awful: The parish churches
seemed so cold and unfriendly; there were no welcoming Sunday
school programs or nurseries for the little ones. The worst part
came at the distribution of the Eucharist. I would just want to
break down and weep or run. Without having dealt with the issue
of the Eucharist, I intuitively knew that here was the pivotal
difference.
Even though Marcus stated that the kids and I were welcome to
continue attending the Presbyterian Church, we did not want to
go to separate churches on Sunday mornings. Fortunately, we discovered
a parish across town that resembled many Protestant churches:
They were a little friendlier, with coffee and doughnuts afterwards,
and provided CCD for children. (It felt like Sunday school.)
These rather superficial things actually helped a lot as I was
making the transition into the Catholic world. So each Sunday,
we would drive tearfully past our old church as we became more
convinced about what we might have to do.
Then we ran into a most unexpected hurdle. Marcus and I decided
we would give the RCIA (Rite of Christian Initiation for Adults)
class a look. But we backed down for two reasons. First, we were
not quite ready for the world to know of our leanings toward the
Catholic Church, and some of our classmates in RCIA were from
our neighborhood. Second, we realized that even if we completed
this class, we were at least temporarily ineligible to enter the
Church because of a marital commitment I had made in my early
twenties.
Well! Maybe here was an issue that would save us from the Church!
We never dreamed we would face such an obstacle. We angrily thought
of many worse sins we could have committed that would not have
prevented us from becoming members of the Catholic Church.