The most common question I’ve been asked in the past year is a variation on, “What made you decide to become Catholic?” The tone has differed, depending on the asker. I’ve dealt with excitement, curiosity, hostility, confusion, warmth, happiness, surprise, and disrespect.
I’ve also asked the question of others. It’s not so surprising to hear the myriad conversion stories when you think about the universality of the Catholic Church, and sometimes I’ve been a little embarrassed that I didn’t have an exciting adventure of religious epiphany to relate. My answer to the question is, in short, “I went to Mass and I liked it.”
Of course it took a lot to get me to Mass in the first place.
I grew up United Methodist, although I never attended Sunday services as a child. I made my way through Pioneer Club (a scout-like Methodist program) every school year and Vacation Bible School every summer. After I aged out of VBS, I continued on as a counselor and puppeteer. I lived at home for college and attended the local university, which happens to be one of the most Catholic schools in the country. The people there were very nice, but the charismatic lifestyle was a little off-putting, and most times I felt completely misunderstood as a Protestant. (This was usually accurate, but I came to find that I misunderstood Catholicism just as often.)
When I was a freshman, my brother and I were invited to sing with the choir at the United Methodist church in our hometown. We began to attend Sunday services regularly. By the time I was a senior, I had become a Sunday School teacher, I had been baptized in the Methodist Church, I was a member of the Pastor-Parishioner Relations Committee, a regular deliverer of children’s sermons, the new director of Vacation Bible School, and I shared Choir Director/Accompanist duties with my brother.
I took theology classes and had philosophical discussions at school, but I never went to Mass. I had respect for my Catholic friends’ beliefs, and I was frustrated when professors and students alike would spout misinformation about Protestants, but I never went to Mass. It didn’t matter to me whether someone was Methodist or Presbyterian or Catholic or Russian Orthodox: we were all Christian, so what difference did it make?
That began to change. I don’t know when, exactly, but little niggling thoughts began to curl around the back of my mind. I spent most of my free time during my senior year with three very close friends. Suffice to say it’s hard to hang out with two seminarians and a young woman who lives her faith without entertaining a few Catholic thoughts. When my Sunday School students asked difficult questions, my answers usually came from my theology classes at school. When I had difficult questions, my Catholic friends always had an answer for me. I thought perhaps I’d raise my future children in The Church, even if I didn’t convert. Then when a friend from my Methodist church mentioned he’d once been Catholic, I thought to myself, “If you’re already Catholic, why would you leave?” This thought brought me up short.
At that point, I thought perhaps I should go to Mass.
(to be continued)
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