How I got where I am – Part IV

I tried my best to shake the familiar specter of doubt. It was like I was a teenager once again – go down to the altar, pray, repent, weep before God, ask Him to take away these questions, to help you shake the Devil off your back. . . Days of exhilaration where I would think things were going to work – then something would happen to make me question all over again. I should be honest here and say that I was wrestling with issues that I had had since childhood. I would walk, apprehensively, in what felt like ‘victory’ – only to fall all over myself in moments of insanity. Having been raised ‘holiness’, being unable to ‘keep the faith’ was devastating.

This inability for stability has been a theme in my life. It was no less different during this time. I had thought that by ‘answering the call’ – by being ‘in the will of God’ – it would somehow be the magic ticket to spiritual freedom. It wasn’t. Many nights I would finish preaching, only to find myself in the deepest depths of despair I’d ever known. Surely this was simply the Devil attacking a faithful Christian . . . right? Surely, if I prayed more, if I sought God more – it would all be fixed. I would be fixed.

But I wasn’t fixed. And I was once again living a lie. I had serious doubts about my faith, I could no longer toe the line as a youth pastor and teacher. So, I tendered my resignation. We had just had our first child, my wife was unable to work due to complications – so I used money as an excuse. We loaded all we had into another U-haul and we moved to Georgia, where I had landed a job in the IT department of a small college. The new home was close to a church that had a close relationship with our home-church, so many of the faces were familiar. They were so happy to see us in Georgia! They were excited to have another ‘minister’ and they had plans to put me to work. Me? I just wanted to be left alone. I didn’t want to teach, I didn’t want to lead, I didn’t even want to sing in the choir (which has always been one of the most enjoyable aspects of church for me). But I have this ridiculous fear of disappointing others. So . . . invariably I did do all of those things. Over the course of three years in Georgia, it was simply more of the same. Up, down, etc. etc.

Going into our third year, I had entered a phase where I was simply going to give up. I told my wife of my doubts, laying out my positions, but never really getting to the heart of why. She was the rock she is, and she simply took it all in and I’m sure began to intercede to God on my behalf. It was around this time that I happened upon a little website called TheologyWeb. It was a turning point in my life – truly. I was able to challenge myself, my doubts, my questions – to really begin to see that what I had considered my faith was shallow. I was out of my depth, and I resolved to change that. I began to read more and more, trying to self-educate myself into the fray. I soon saw that I truly was empty without God, that I could never resolve to live as if God didn’t exist. So, I recommitted myself to Him – but reservedly. I knew that I shouldn’t compartmentalize myself – I had to be honest with God, and honestly seek ‘the truth’.

How I got where I am – Part III

After the service at the youth camp, I decided to stay the rest of the week. I immediately reconnected with my former girlfriend. In many ways it felt as if I had never left. I knew that things would have to change in my life, so on my return to the ‘real world’ I called my boss, the lawyer, and announced I couldn’t come back to work. I called the university law school and withdrew. I just knew that law school wasn’t in the ‘will of God’.

My friend, the former youth pastor, was working in IT and convinced his boss to give me a shot. It worked out, and I had my first post-college job. It wasn’t long until I asked my new-old-girlfriend to marry me. I had no doubts that she was the one. Some months into the marriage I convinced myself that being in the ministry was the only way to truly be in the will of God. I confided this to my my pastor. Nothing happened at first, but soon I got a strange phone call from North Carolina. My friend, the youth pastor, had moved on to be an assistant pastor in Georgia. He had received a call from a pastor looking for a school teacher/youth pastor. He recommended me (I had my license to teach). The pastor called, and I immediately said we’d drive up, meet everyone, and consider. Twelve hours away from home, we arrived to find what seemed to be a vibrant church and school. This was where God wanted us to be.

Of course when we announced our decision to move when we got back to Mississippi, my parents took the news hard. My mom was very distraught and told us that the time frame would never work out. We had less than two weeks to sell everything we had, move and start classes. I told her that if it all worked out it had to be the will of God. Of course, everything worked out. We made the first day of classes in a new city, a new state, and completely cut off from the life-lines we had grown accustomed to.

We stayed in Charlotte for almost two years. The church was very different than the one we both had grown up in. There was more focus on externals – how one dressed, for example. But we quickly found ourselves adjusting, making friends and settling in. The school, however, came to be somewhat of a proving ground. The students weren’t all from the church’s families. There were constant questions about religion and about the church’s stand on many issues. I tried to focus on the subjects I was teaching, but the questions began to grate at me.

One day the assistant pastor (the pastor’s son) asked me to read something called the Church Fathers to hunt for evidence that the early church preached a standard of holiness similar to our own. The Church Fathers? I was vaguely aware of them, but I had never read them. My world was about to change. I dutifully researched (being a history major had equipped me well) and I did find several passages that buttressed our ideas, but man oh man was I surprised at the depth found in the Church Fathers. Hierarchy, eucharist, etc. It was simply confusing. So I walked away, but I walked away rocked.

I began to have those gnawing doubts again – that all I believed was resting on a flimsy foundation. An evangelist who specialized in campus preaching came to visit our church – a great guy, really, but his tactics were quite off-putting. I took my class to see him in action one day at the UNC-Charlotte campus. I even preached a little myself. I was surrounded by college students who were peppering me with very hard questions. I spouted out the answers I thought I knew, but deep within I remember thinking, “Do I even believe what I’m saying?”

The ark as conversation piece

My wife and I had a much-needed heart-to-heart last night. It was about a wide range of issues, but it ultimately came back to my decision to enter the Catholic Church. For the first time in a while, I was able to half-way explain the reasons I’m becoming Catholic. She is really great, and wise, and patient with me. I know that she can’t grokk my decision, but she loves me. I wish I could have recorded all that I said, however, ’cause I got on a roll. I wasn’t trying to overwhelm her, but at one point I think she got that impression.

I wanted to share an analogy that I used in the discussion. I was speaking about the Catholic Church’s understanding of herself and the other Christian confessions. When I was studying Orthodoxy, I ran into a very similar analogy – that of the Church as the Ark of Salvation. My analogy is closely akin- however, many Orthodox refuse to make proclamations about those ‘outside the Ark’ – other than to warn that one had better make sure they’re in the ark. But I imagine a large ship (the Catholic Church), which is the Ark of Salvation simply because it is the church. But I imagine other smaller craft in the ark’s wake, some close enough to see, others spread far, far into the distance. On these ships (other Christian confessions), the passengers are sometimes fully convinced that they’re making their way across the water fully on their own power (it’s an analogy, so don’t break it down too much, you understand); yet all the while, each of these craft, beneath the surface, are connected to the Ark via a system of cables. Some of the passengers might believe that this is possible. Other may say that such a connection is surely nonexistent. Yet, nonetheless, the ties are there.

This is how the Catholic Church views other Christian confessions (I think I’m right on this), and quite honestly, it was a factor in starting me down this road to Rome.