Join the Club! Or Not.
This morning I was making my rounds in the blogosphere and came upon an interesting thread on Catholic Answer Forums. In it, a man who is Southern Baptist but has wanted to move into full communion with the Catholic Church details the frustrations he's had getting anyone to contact him and the roadblocks he's encountered to actually becoming Catholic.
Even more illuminating are the responses of Catholics (converts or cradle) to his situation.
Do read the whole thread if you can. It's entitled:
Is Catholicism a private, scripted Club?
posted by Keith Strohm @ 8:23 AM
16 Comments
16 Comments:
Wow.
But I have a similar story, about the first time I went to a mass after I had become interested in Catholicism.
I was a member of an Evangelical megachurch that was very welcoming and outreaching to people. When you walked into church on Sunday, everyone was smiling, the ushers were helpful, if you needed help with something there were plenty of people around who wanted to help.
I walked into a Catholic parish, never having been to a mass, approached an usher to ask for help, told him I was new, not a Catholic, and had never been to a mass before.
He gave me a startled look, sort of grunted "oh," then grabbed my wrist, led me to a pew, sat me down by myself, and walked away without another word. Didn’t introduce me to anyone or offer any help at all!
I sat there totally confused, not knowing what I was supposed to do during the whole mass. This was a parish that didn't use missals, either, so I had nothing to follow along with.
At the end, I turned to a woman who had come in after me, and asked her, "I noticed that you knelt in the pew when you first came in, before sitting. I'm not a Catholic and this is the first time I've been to mass. Why do you do that?"
She looked at me, startled, and answered, "Oh, I don't know, I've just done it since I was a child." And didn't say another word, but turned away.
After that experience, maybe it's a miracle that I'm a Catholic today....
Me three:
Which story shall I tell? The one about the sister I consulted who asked me why I wanted to convert because I'd make a lovely Episcopal priest and why did I think anyone would let me teach their children because I wasn't born Catholic?
About the Teddy Bear RCIA?
The Paul Bunyan RCIA?
The Frightened Rabbit RCIA?
The Upside Down Rubber Chicken of the Holy Spirit? (A story too terrible for blogdom)
Like so many others, I felt like I had to almost force my way in against a unthinking tidal wave of indifference, incomprehension, or even, hostility.
Now, years later, after having hundreds of excited people come up to me at events and ask to hear my conversion story (which we finally put on cd, I got so many requests), I wonder at the discrepancy. Why is it so hard to get in for many of us?
I notice two things:
1. in general, it is very difficult to get into the Catholic Church unless one is born into it (in contrast, I remember meeting Youth For Christ in my public high school).
2. Catholics need to realize that coming into the Church is a personal process that goes beyond intellectual assent, and therefore a matter of personal responsibility for every baptized person.
After we got engaged, my wife, Karen, told me she wanted to become Catholic. I didn't try to pawn her off on the parish staff, but answered her questions myself, drawing upon my own struggles over the years in which I was helped by friends.
I then accompanied her through the annulment process. I was prepared to fight the pastor to get her exempted from RCIA. However, she thought it would be good (the 6-month marital waiting period coincided with RCIA); the RCIA directors were a married couple that I have known my whole life (having met them in CFM). I then helped her find a sponsor. We supplemented marriage prep with two other books: The Portal of the Mystery of Hope by Charles Peguy and Ephesians by Adrienne von Speyr. We were also in choir at this time.
The priests are overtaxed. It is up to lay people to be advocates for those seeking to enter the Church. We need to use our insider knowledge to open wide the doors of the Church.
Fred
DF:
I couldn't agree more. In our case, we formed our own support group in self-defence (The Catholic Study Group). We met every other week, studying books together, inviting in speakers, sharing a meal. It was an early version of the Nameless Lay Group.
In the end, 5 of us entered the Church.
This poignant comment from the man whose experience started the whole thread says it all:
"I don't know how a thread about me not feeling welcomed at church turned into a thread about me not willing to do what it takes."
The tenor of some of the responses to him amount to:
Jump through endless administrative hoops. Ignore hostility and indifference. Persevere alone. No whining allowed. Becoming Catholic is supposed to be an obstacle course. That's how you demonstrate that you are worthy to join us.
I am acutely aware that the early Church has a demanding catechumenate - but the demands were spiritual ones. Abandoning sin. Repentence. Living a Christian life.
Not "why can't you do a simple thing like persevere in joining a community where you don't know a soul despite indifference, isolation, hostility, and terrible catechesis?"
The Teddy Bear RCIA . . . The Paul Bunyan RCIA . . . The Frightened Rabbit RCIA.
LOL!!! I can relate, having been in a couple of RCIA's on my way into the Church.
But fortunately, they're not all that way. I have to say that I've been in a couple of wonderful ones, too, and am interning in a wonderful one right now. There are pockets of good stuff going on here and there, and hopefully things will improve.
But the stories - priceless!
Yes, as I said on my Generation Cross post, I think a big mistake some Catholics make is to translate "picking up my cross" into "diminishing my desires for fulfillment". I'm so amazed by how widespread it is. How I routinely hear, "toughen up", as the main response to these type of inquiries. It is frightening by how non-human some people think the faith requires one to be.
Here's a different example, but an interesting one. So a number of years ago I visited a Byzantine Catholic parish for the first time. I had emailed the pastor before hand asking questions and whether I should read anything in advance before coming to the Divine Liturgy. He encouraged me to just come, not worry about not knowing what was going on, to experience it. When I arrived, no one made a huge commotion about my new face, but people acknowledged it, the ushers gave me a book and showed me where the cantors were in the chant and after the Liturgy several kindly explained the icons to me. There was no rush to sign me up or anything, but there was a definite welcome. I appreciated the approach: to help me get past my discomfort with the fact that I wouldn't know what was to happen, experience it first, then answer my questions.
It was an interesting way to open my eyes to the experience of a convert, being as much a new visitor to the Byzantine rite as a convert might be to the Catholic Church.
I'm so amazed by how widespread it is. How I routinely hear, "toughen up", as the main response to these type of inquiries. It is frightening by how non-human some people think the faith requires one to be."
Jack, I think you make a important point. But doesn't it say something about the experience of the people saying this sort of thing? That they themselves had to endure with little or no means of support and so that sort of isolation now seems "normative",like stoic old-time farmers on the high plains who have learned to suck up the isolation and brutal weather of winter.
They survived without (meaning they are still darkening the door but at what cost?) so you must to. Spiritual stoicism can seem to be an integral part of the faith, a sort of high-minded austerity that asks for nothing from God or the Church except doing my duty and receiving the sacraments.
Agreed, Sherry. It is quite sad. And I think you rightly note how it presents a challenge to not just the convert but to those already Catholic. I think it is part of what perpetuates the perception and experience of the parish as a "sacramental way station".
Have any of you made a comment to this fellow's post? Your insights are helpful, and need to be read by Catholics over there, I believe.
There's a bit of misinformation, too. One person posted, "The overwhelming majority of Catholics who get to the end of the RCIA program will stay in the Church for the rest of their lives - THAT is what makes a great (or at least much better) program in my book."
That's not the reality, according to USCCB statistics.
Fr. Mike:
I didn't see that last quote. I'll see if I can respond a bit.
Interesting.
I was received into the Church ten years ago in the Northeastern Ohio area, where the Church still has a reputation for being very "ethnic."
Considering that in the early church new Christians sometimes took 2 years or more to come in I don't think a process of 9 months or so is unrealistic. Catholicism is much more complex that the average Protesant/Evangelical milieu and prospective converts need time to absorb and integrate the ethos of being Catholic Christians and what that means for the relationship with Jesus Christ in order to fully commit themselves.
When I began the inquiry process I was being guided by an Ursuline sister who was a pastoral associate at the parish. She made sure I was introduced to a committed sponsor and it was emphasized at the very beginning that all prospective RCIA candidates could take as long as they wished to make sure that they were fully committed to becoming Catholic. There were also some very good lay teams who offered some very creative programs to enrich the journey of those who were considering becoming Catholic.
Since I was raised in a family of Catholics and Lutherans and married into a family of Catholics the process was much easier for me because I had already been exposed to much Catholic doctrine and praxis.
The bottom line these days is that some parishes are very good at welcoming and attracting converts and others aren't. There does need to be a better coordination among parishes to offer excellent RCIA formation.
Truth be told, when I was investigating the idea of becoming Catholic I also checked out an Orthodox parish, where I totally felt like a fish out of water, as no one even approached me or gave any sign of welcome. I'm sure, though, that that is not true of all Orthodox parishes today.
Christine,
Thanks for sharing your experience. As a cradle Catholic, it is good to hear all of the experiences of folks entering full communion with the Church!
Welcome!
Keith
Thanks, Keith! I hope "Rob" continues in spite of the frustrations he has experienced. I would hate to see him try to get by with less than the fullness of the riches that the Catholic Church has to offer. I'm thinking about his comment about trying to go to confession without mentioning that he has not been confirmed in the Catholic Church. He deserves better than that.
The second thing that occurred to me is trying to get across to prospective converts that they cannot receive the Eucharist until they are fully initiated not because they are "unworthy"; as a baptized Christian he is already united to Jesus in the primary sense. I know, I've had a very difficult time trying to explain to my Lutheran relatives that receiving Communion in the Catholic Church is a matter of being united to the Bishop and one's fellow Catholics -- it's a matter of Church polity, not "worthiness" lest those folks contemplating becoming Catholic look down upon themselves as being "lesser" Christians.
May Rob and all seekers come to know the fullness of being Catholic Christians.
Christine, you have touched on such a challenging topic! Why non-Catholics are not to receive the Eucharist.
It's a challenge to answer that question in a way that opens up the teachings of the Church to them. Michael Spencer (the Internet Monk) runs an intriguing little blog, and he once posed this very question in a post called Jesus + Paperwork. He throws it out there quite provocatively with his dialogue between "Bob" and "George" of why can "George" can call "Bob" a Christian but deny him participation in Communion.
What I found so striking was how the discussion in the comments didn't generate much fruit. There was a way in which some spoke of just dogma, whereas Michael was speaking from the perspective of meaning to his life.
Here's what I sent him after the comments thread was closed. I make no suggestion that it is the best explanation (or free of error), but I tried to take his provocation seriously and respond openly: "First of all, thanks for the dialogue you posted. Being a "George", it raises a great question for me: How do I explain why I can call a "Bob" a Christian yet say he cannot receive the Eucharist?
I appreciate that you put it in the personal. I've had this conversation many times and have found myself unexpectedly in the context of having to decline taking communion at a Protestant service, knowing that that act would create scandal and make visible the incompleteness of our unity. Too often, the "Bob" asks the question in the abstract and we find ourselves both focusing the explanations on why "George" is not trying to be "rude", etc. You have squarely focused on what it means for your life. And I think that gives the dialogue a different character and an honesty that I appreciate.
A serious question deserves a serious attempt at an answer. (Which is my apology in advance for the length of this, by the way.)
First, there clearly is a tension that exists for the "George". Because he truly does hold to both positions simultaneously. Looking to the "Bob's" baptism, he recognizes that there was an ontological change in the "Bob's" being and that "Bob" is united in Christ. That "George" shares that baptism and union with Christ, it follows that there is a clear unity between "George" and "Bob". Yet, just like the presence and encounter with Christ, baptism is not a momentary event of the past, but something that has seized us and must continue to unfold in the now. As Pope Benedict described baptism in his Easter Homily, baptism is a new life that now unfolds: "I live, but I am no longer I." But if we both share in this new life in the one Christ, shouldn't there be a unity to our new life? Considering the history of Christianity, it is clear that in the way things have unfolded there is a certain disunity between "George" and "Bob". Reflection on experience reveals this. The challenge is in how does one affirm both aspects recognized here, versus one over the other.
I think an analogy might be helpful. Consider a married couple who, having numerous and serious material troubles, choose to separate but not divorce. We would recognize that, because of their marriage, there is a unity between the two. Yet because of the marital troubles, a disunity is also present. We would recognize that that's a problem and I think most of us would be troubled if the couple were to reveal that they had started sleeping with each other again, but are not working on their marital troubles. Even though sexual intimacy is proper to marriage, something feels ajar. How can two people truly give themselves in that way to one another if they can't live together?
Although not perfect, I think the analogy is helpful in two respects. First, I think it helps give flesh to the idea of how one can have unity and disunity at the same time and how one might choose not to do certain things because of the disunity, but in doing so, not deny the degree of unity that is there. Second, it raises the issue of mutual self-giving and I think that comes to play in the context of the Eucharist.
I think the next aspect is the fact that the "George" recognizes that there is something to the act of receiving the Eucharist that goes beyond just a mere affirmation of one's new life in Christ that occurred at baptism. The best evidence I can give for this from Catholicism is the fact that even a Catholic is not welcome to receive the Eucharist at times (e.g., if he is in a state of mortal sin). So it isn't just what some might label "denominationalism". There's something more to the nature of receiving the Eucharist that the Church is highlighting.
Now here is where I feel less certain about the explanation I offer you, but I will try and discern what the Church is trying to highlight. Turning back to my mortal sin example, one can see this condition to reception of the Eucharist as being rooted in St. Paul's warning in 1 Cor 11:29 ("For any one who eats and drinks without discerning the body eats and drinks judgment upon himself."). How? Well, in the Eucharist, we have our Lord giving Himself to us so fully. It is meal of the utmost food, Christ nourishing us with His very self. It is sacrifice, making present to us in our time the efficacy of His saving work for all of time on the Cross. It is eschatological. But I cannot help but be drawn most to Presence. The present is so important, for it is what is before us and where we must live if we are to stand before reality in a true way. We do not live in the past or the future, truly. And the Eucharist is so intimate of a Presence. I think of the disciples on the road to Emmaus, who like many before him (John 1:38) hit on the importance of presence when they asked Christ to stay with them. The encounter with Christ is the way and not a moment, which can be seen again and again throughout the Scriptures as Jesus does one miracle or striking thing and it is said (yet again) that the disciples believed. Even in the two on the road to Emmaus we see this ("We had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel"). And when and how is His Presence made known to these two? Not in just his staying with them, but in the "breaking of the bread".
But as we discussed above in the marriage analogy, there's something amiss in two people entering into an act of great intimacy when there is a disunity between them. And how much more intimate than the sexual act is the act of receiving the Eucharist if it truly is Him giving Himself to me, taking me up in His divine life, inviting me to participate in that communion, renewing what began at my baptism? Accordingly, how more scandalous and amiss to participate in such intimacy if there is a disunity present?
Now, for the Catholic, I gave the example of mortal sin. Which one might describe as a focus on the invisible bonds of communion. But setting that aside, what might be the source of the disunity for the Protestant? And I think that's where the Protestant's understanding of the Church, especially in its visible nature, comes into play and I have to return to my point about Presence.
For the Catholic, Christ cannot be separated from His Church. His Church is the prolongation of His mission through time. Luigi Giussani is helpful here, for in explaining the event that is Christ, he identifies Christ's method of drawing people to Him as that of the encounter. People ate with Jesus, spoke with Him, touched Him, and, most of all, spent time with Him. Word became flesh. A human presence yet God. And those who encountered Him recognized something extraordinary, something, Someone, outside of themselves, that moved them at the level of their heart, the core of their true self. Well, how is it possible for me, also a man, but set in time 2000 years later than those who first met Him, to have this same experience? Giussani (and so I would say the Catholic Church) argues that it is in the Church. We see evidence of this at work even in Christ's time on earth when he sends disciples out in twos to far off villages and they return with stories of people having heard them, seen miracles performed, and been changed. The disciples were the form of Christ's presence to these people. The People of God as Body of Christ as Church. And not in some invisible, spiritual way. But as the continuation of his very method, a physical presence of Him throughout time.
If you look at understandings of the Eucharist you will see this ecclesial aspect all wrapped up in there. The Eucharist is apostolic. Yet the Protestant is in disunity on this very point: the visible Church. Returning to your original question, what does that have to do with your confessing Christ? And so we return to the understanding of the Body of Christ as Church and Church as His Presence on the visible dimension and the lack of this visible bond of communion.
I'm not sure if what I have written above is clear or that you will find it persuasive (by all means test it with your experience and heart!), but it is the best I can do right now in trying to explain the tension you see in a "George" recognizing a "Bob" as a Christian and yet denying him reception of the Eucharist, and how the answer can be, yes, "George's" calling "Bob" a Christian is both sincere and true, yet "George" is not adding "paperwork" to the requirements of the Eucharist that go beyond Christ."
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