Growing up in an Evangelical
Christian home, liturgy was not something I was familiar with, as such, when I
first experienced it, I was immediately drawn by its beauty, reverence, and
transcendence. My experience in
church for my first 30 years in life centered around myself. What was I getting out of church? What
programs do they offer? How are the people there, is the community active? Is the pastor an entertaining and
powerful speaker? Is the music
something I enjoy and does it give me an emotional experience? All of these questions were focused on
myself, and in my tradition at the time it was ok to feel that way. These things in my list of questions
distinguished churches from each other in the evangelical tradition more than
anything, and so shopping for the right one for me was expected. Things would suddenly change for me and
it was in experiencing liturgy, and interestingly enough, the catalyst for this
conversion of spirit was not initially the Catholic Church.
Throughout
my life I attended mega churches.
They had all the bells and whistles and answered very satisfactorily the
questions about what did I want in a church. Finally, though I began to see some theological challenges
in the church I attended and began to shop for a new church. My family and I decided to try a
small church in a downtown area; it was a Baptist church and we began to attend
there regularly. The church had
good music, and nice people, and excellent teaching so it satisfied those
checks on my checklist. At the
same time though, it had something new, something I never considered for my
checklist; liturgical actions.
Every Sunday they had communion including a time of kneeling and reflecting before a large cross in the corner.
This was simply not a part of my mega church, which did communion
quarterly. This new church also
recited the Apostles Creed every Sunday and stood when the Word was read. These actions left an impression
on me and left me open for consideration of a completely different paradigm in
church. I found myself unable to attend that church any longer and instead was
sitting at a new mega church coasting along in the back sipping my latte from
the coffee bar in the stadium seating theater watching a worship concert and
hearing a powerful sermon. After a
few months of that, it began to feel empty to me. Was this really church? Is this what it is all about? I can do this from home watching a live stream of the event,
and indeed many do, so why am I
here. I remember confiding in my
father that I felt like the church was really missing something by abandoning
the hymns and liturgical practices of the past, but I did not really know what
the answer was to a longing that had been placed in my heart, having been
touched by the power of a simple liturgical celebration.
Several
months later, I was in a philosophy of religion class at the local community
college, and had to visit an Eastern religion and a Western religion outside my
tradition. Being a Protestant I could go to a Catholic, Orthodox, Jewish, or
Islamic service and report back to satisfy my assignment and so I went to
Sunday mass one day at the local parish.
The parish church is a traditional cathedral style church with lots of
beautiful stain glass. This alone
set it apart from the converted warehouses that my evangelical churches were
meeting in. Upon entering,
the importance of the place was palpable.
I really had no experience at all with the Catholic Church other than to
think people should leave it, and it was from this skewed worldview that I
entered, and yet was immediately touched by the atmosphere created. I immediately noticed the prayerful
quiet as the church slowly filled.
Everyone bowed or genuflected as they entered the pews, I did not know
why at the time, but the humility of it all impacted me.
The
mass begin with the entrance hymn and the procession down the center. I found
the hymns refreshing coming off a burnout from a worship band that would rival
any pop culture band in both theatrics and sound quality. I remember following along in the
worship aid as I knew nothing about the mass. Reading the penitential act with the congregation
immediately brought tears to my eyes.
I could not believe that this entire congregation was asking God for
forgiveness together and admitting their inadequacies, such a concept was a
purely private matter in my evangelical tradition and I long had carried
burdens that I asked God for forgiveness but was uncertain of his reply. I remember the readings and homily
being nothing significant, perhaps in another setting I would have found them
boring, but in this setting, it was clear that more was going on, that the
teaching from the readings and homily were supplementing something far
grander. I did my best to follow
along and was moved to kneel before God during a church service and reflect on
his transforming grace in my life.
I knew absolutely nothing of the Eucharist and the real presence, the
sacrifice of the mass, or the grace of the sacraments, and yet the beauty and
humility of this liturgy conveyed a powerful message to me. While I received much by my participation, the great gift I received was not geared toward me. It was geared toward God and my participation in it left me moved by His grace.
I
didn’t fully understand at the time, but I left that church a Catholic in my
heart and a “former” evangelical protestant. I was unable to articulate any of it or understand it, but
every hint I had of something wrong with the churches I had been a part of was
made readily apparent in the liturgy and my life would not be the same. I would
later be reading Thomas Merton’s Seven
Storey Mountain, and I believe he captured my feeling beautifully in his
description of his first experience in church saying, “One came out of the
church with a kind of comfortable and satisfied feeling that something had been
done that needed to be done… It is a law of man's nature, written into his very
essence, and just as much a part of him as the desire to build houses and
cultivate the land and marry and have children and read books and sing songs,
that he should want to stand together with other men in order to acknowledge
their common dependence on God, their Father and Creator. In fact, this desire
is much more fundamental than any purely physical necessity" (Merton, 13) The desire was very fundamental for me
and I found myself reading everything I could on the Catholic Church and trying
to understand what I had experienced in the liturgy. I found myself slipping into the back row of weekday masses
to see it all again, and would attend mass on Sundays whenever I could. Within a year I was in RCIA, and
a year and a half later at Easter Vigil 2014 I was brought into the Church and
Confirmed and had my first Eucharist.
My
time as a Catholic has been one of immense joy. I see Christ in the liturgy, in the Eucharist, and in the
body of Christ, the church. This
is made manifest in the hugs and smiles from the parishioners I attend mass
with, in the Church throughout the world and its authority it exercises. This authority I find like the
comforting hug of a parent who cares for his child and not like a rod of
tyranny as it is often described by those who do not understand. After floating adrift seeking what
could not be found outside the bounds of the Church, it is with great relief,
and immense joy that I proudly proclaim to be a Catholic. This joy may not have ever been
realized if my heart hadn’t been opened by the beauty found in the simple liturgy of a small Baptist church.
