Note: In this season of Easter, we will be sharing with you the faith journeys of some of our RCIA participants who were initiated to the faith at the Easter Vigil. Their stories are magnificent testimonies to the Pascal Mystery of Jesus Christ — that is, his death and resurrection. I have been blessed to journey with them closely as Fr. Brent and I have taught many of the RCIA classes. The article below was written before the Easter Vigil.
– Fr. Cary
 
A New Catholic’s Path to Easter Vigil
          I grew up in a home of faith with a child’s understanding of the Bible and its teachings.  I eventually turned my back on the organized religion of my youth.  I acknowledged to myself that I would never stop believing in God, but that is where my
spirituality ended.  In times of turmoil, I turned to the only scripture I really knew - “Be still, and know that I am God.”
          Conversion begins when we come to our senses.  That is how I felt late one night when sitting on the couch — I had a very strong impression that I needed to join Catholicism.  Even though it felt sudden, it wasn’t completely out of the blue.  I had been seeking happiness and peace through the usual routes – meditation, exercise, wine, and other self-help methods.  Over the years I had been intrigued by the Catholic Church, but every time I spoke of it, I was discouraged by those I thought knew best.  This time, however, I acted and during the first week of Lent last year, I began attending Mass.  I felt an initial excitement with the novelty of it all and, at the end of the Easter season, I had another strong impression.  On Pentecost Sunday, I was moved in a way so powerful that I’m at a loss to explain.  It felt like the Holy Spirit descended that very day, straight into me.  I had forgotten, or never known, what that felt like.  Suffice it to say, I knew it was no longer enough to just go to Mass.
          In many denominations, when you stand up and say, “I believe!”, you are immediately welcomed into the community.  The Catholics, however, are more likely to say, “Great!  Let’s talk about it for a while.  Maybe a year.  Or more.”  For no other reason than it was required, I signed up for the RCIA class that began in September.  Now, I will admit that I had a lot of ideas about what it meant to be Catholic.  For example, I loved that no one had to read the Bible, and that you could catch Mass on Saturday night leaving pretty much the rest of your week free.  I was especially interested in the part where you can act however you want and then stop in at confession, and all is forgiven.  But, of course, those things aren’t really true.  The truth for me was that I was heading down a path to full conversion that no one saw coming.
          The process of conversion has been described as recovering your sense of identity before God.  It started slowly when I increased my commitment by attending RCIA.  Then I found out that you can go to church nearly any time you want, and I started attending daily mass and going to the Adoration chapel whenever I could.  At some point, someone taught me how to pray the Rosary, and someone else gave me a reading plan for the Bible and the Catechism.  By December, I was hooked!  I had a growing desire for more, and I was greedily grabbing whatever morsels I could get.  I started getting up an hour early each morning to have more time.
          I felt like I was finally focusing on the right things, and I was experiencing many great benefits:  important personal relationships in my life were improving, everything that I struggled with seemed easier (not 100%, just easier) and, for the first time in my life, I experienced the loving embrace of Jesus.
          It wasn’t all wonderful.  Actually, it was overwhelming.  It did not take long to realize that my life was changing and would likely never be the same.  Some of the changes were affecting others in unexpected ways.  And, in a world that seems at a crossroads somewhere between 1984 and the Handmaid’s Tale, it felt almost dangerous to follow this particular path.  To run to a church that allowed itself to be caught in the worst kinds of scandals; to be a strong individual who submits to anything other than self.  But, I kept searching, reading, praying, and immersing myself.  By January, I knew I was going to complete this process, and that I belonged in the Catholic Church.
          When I ran into a sacramental problem with my confirmation, I treated it as a sign to slow down.  I welcomed the opportunity to take at least another year (or two) to feel more comfortable, to come out of this first blush of energy and enthusiasm, and to get my life back to where it was — where I didn’t talk like this all the time.
          But, my path was not going to be like that.  In the Gospel of Luke, Jesus lays out the conditions of discipleship by saying, “If anyone wishes to come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me.  For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it.”  I heard this passage and I knew, if I had the ability, I couldn’t possibly wait.  I knew that my life would never again be comfortable, and that I would always be wondering what more the Lord would ask of me.  While I may not always talk like this, I hope I will always want to.
          Over a year later, I had finally become ravenous in my need to partake of the Body by being confirmed and receiving Holy Communion.  I immediately went to work on the things I needed to do to prepare for this opportunity, and I am now anxiously awaiting Easter Vigil when I embark on the next part of my constant conversion.  I join this Church unsettled, imperfect and with much more to understand and attend to than I had hoped, but I present myself anyway.  I can’t not be here.  I pray that when you partake of the Eucharist next, you will also feel these things – the insistent urgency and, with it, the calming certainty of His
Eternal Love.
          On a final note – I have learned that when we start noticing things in the world not as coincidence, but as part of a deeper conversation, it will become clear that God is constantly working with us.  Case in point:  On the first Sunday of Lent, when we went to the Cathedral for the Rite of Election, the song sung immediately before the Candidates were called to continuing conversion was titled, “Be Still and Know That I am God.”