A Great Moment in American History

As I write this I have just finished watching Senator Obama give his acceptance speech. I must admit I had not watched much of the Democratic convention this year, but I did watch Senator Clinton motion to nominate Senator Barack Obama by acclamation as the Democratic candidate for the office of President of the United States of America. There were thunderous cheers, as though fans of ten superbowl games had suddenly witnessed a game-winning touchdown. At that moment I felt a sense of joy.

The commentators spoke of American history. That slavery had ended less than 150 years ago and Jim Crow laws were still in place as late as fifty years ago. Barack Obama had become the first black man to become the presidential candidate of a major political party in the United States of America. No one can deny that this was indeed a great moment in American history.

When the cheers erupted I felt joy, elation and pride, yet at the same time I felt despair and fear. Despair that this man who admits he does not know when life begins will do everything he can to support the killing of what he does not understand. I respect Senator Obama for admitting that he does not know when human life begins, but I am confused as to how he can reason that because he does not know when life begins he therefore can encourage the continued policy of abortion on demand. Even a hunter does not fire his gun until he knows what he is killing.

I felt fear because Senator Obama has not found it right to provide medical care to children born alive after an attempt on their lives through abortion. Surprisingly this seems to mean that Senator Obama does not want to protect the lives of our newest citizens. Yet Senator Obama spoke of the promises of this nation in his speech. He spoke of the promise of a good education, of health care for everyone. He spoke of ending our dependence on Middle Eastern oil. He spoke of many promises of his own, and what he would personally do for America.

Senator Obama did not speak of the 4000 unborn who are killed every day in the land of the free. He did not speak of the children left to die in soiled laundry bins of medical facilities. He did not speak of the women and men who suffer from the after-effects of abortion or how abortion affects families and our society. Perhaps Senator Obama did not speak of these things because he does not understand what abortion does to us.

I choose to believe that Senator Obama does not understand because I do not want to believe that he does not care about the fifty million children who have died over the past thirty-five years, or their mothers who have suffered. I choose to believe that Senator Obama has failed to study the fact that although black Americans are a smaller percentage of the population they kill themselves more often through abortion than their counterparts of European descent. I choose to believe that Senator Obama has not spoken with women and men who have come to regret their choice to have their children killed through abortion or grandparents who took their daughters to the abortion centers and will never hold their grandchildren in their arms. I choose to believe that Senator Obama would change his support of the killing of innocent unborn babies if he only knew what abortion is and what it does to our society.

I urge my white brothers and sisters to not let yourselves be bullied by accusations of racism for not supporting Barack Obama, and I urge my black brothers and sisters to not let yourselves be blinded by racial association. There are things unseen that are greater than this world, things of spirit and of Truth.

I choose to pray for Senator Barack Obama, that he may open his heart to God's grace, that his mind may be changed and his soul may be converted. But in the meantime, I, a black man,choose not to vote for the first black man to come this far, in this great moment in American history.

May God forgive us, for we know not what we do.

Which Issues to Consider

During recent conversations with two of my co-workers on the subject of abortion I was asked by one, “Are you passionate about anything else?” By this she wanted to know if there were any other issues about which I was passionate. My other co-worker stated that he appreciated my concern about abortion, but he wanted to point out that there are other issues to consider. I find it interesting that both my co-workers felt the need to distract from the issue of abortion. Somehow I cannot imagine that had I been concerned about the war in Iraq that they would question me in this way. If I were passionate about global warming I doubt they would have given it a second thought. But when it comes to abortion it seems people either do not care or they simply do not understand how the issue affects our society.

Pro-lifers are assumed to be single issue voters. As a Pro-lifer I can attest to the fact that this is not true. My second co-worker seemed to think that one must consider many issues when discerning how one should vote. Well, which issues would he suggest I consider? Why do pro-abortion people think they have a right to tell Pro-lifers what the “real” issues are? Now I must clarify that neither one of my co-workers consider themselves pro-abortion. The first thinks that abortion should be legal in cases of rape, incest and the life of the mother. The second has stated that he did not consider his own son to be a human being the day before he was born, but seems to be willing to compromise on the abortion issue to placate some pro-life concerns.

As a Pro-lifer, that is one who believes it is not possible to give anyone the right to take an innocent life, I would ask this question:
What shapes our opinions of any and every social and/or political issue? Whether the issue is the environment, gun control, taxes, health care, war, nuclear weapons, euthanasia, poverty, the death penalty or embryonic stem cell research etc… the answer is: How we view the human being. How we view the human being shapes our opinions of all social and political issues. Simply put all social and political issues affect the human being.

First, every issue deals with the human being, period. No issue, decision or choice is made by any human being that does not affect in some way another human being. Second, what determines how we view of the human being? What actions within our society exhibit how we as a society view the human being?

Gandhi has been quoted as saying, “You can judge a society by how they treat their weakest members.” What single action in our society most directly exhibits how we treat the weakest members of our society? Who are the weakest human beings within our society, who cannot speak for themselves and cannot vote? The unborn are the weakest human beings among us. They live and grow and move. Their hearts beat and they suck their thumbs.

Abortion kills an innocent human being. What better way to send a message to society as to how we should view the human being. When a boy knows that his mother has allowed his brother to be killed through abortion what must he think? How many other brothers and sisters are missing? How does this shape his view of the human being? He knows that his mother could also have chosen to legally allow him to be killed through abortion. How will this boy view the human being as he grows up? As this boy grows into a man his opinions will be based upon how he views the human being.

During an audience with Italy's Movement for Life Pope Benedict XVI recently stated, "We cannot but recognize that, in practical terms, defending human life has become more difficult today, because a mentality has been developed that progressively devalues human life and entrusts it to the judgment of individuals. A consequence deriving from that is lessended respect for the human person, a value that lies at the foundation of any form of civil coexistence, over and above the faith a person may profess."
He goes on to say that abortion,"...not only has not resolved the problems afflicting many women and no small number of families, but it has opened another wound in our societies."

No issue is isolated. Each issue is affected by and affects another. The environment, gun control, taxes, health care, war (just or unjust), nuclear weapons, euthanasia, poverty, the death penalty, embryonic stem cell research all of it depends on how we view the human being. The societal action that most shapes how we as a society view the human being is the action that best exhibits how we treat the weakest among us. That action is abortion. If we can kill the weakest among us where will it end and when will freedom ring. As a Pro-lifer I am not a single issue voter.

I Didn’t Know

About twenty-five years ago my girlfriend at the time asked me to give her half the money to get an abortion. I didn’t know what an abortion was, not really. I had planned to finish school, get married, and have children, especially a daughter, but I didn’t have time to think about that. Susan, my girlfriend, had decided what she wanted to do. I didn’t want to make her decision harder than it was, so I choose to support her, to be a loving, caring boyfriend.

I went to the bank, withdrew the money, $200.00, I remember the amount, and on the appointed day took her to the hospital. I had planned to take her home, but she told me not to stay, so I went to work. The next day I called her. She was angry that I hadn’t waited to take her home. I sometimes wonder if that was the only reason for her anger. I had done everything that she wanted. I gave her the money, I took her to the hospital and… I left her there. Was she mad because I hadn’t spoken up, that I hadn’t made her decision harder? Was she mad because I didn’t protect her and our baby? I didn’t know.

I didn’t know what abortion was. I didn’t know that someone was going to reach inside of my girlfriend and pull our baby apart piece by piece…from what should have been the safest place in the world.

I had paid someone to kill our baby!

In recent days I have sought God’s forgiveness and I now know his mercy is boundless. There is still pain, but God’s grace sustains me. There are others out there who feel the loss, men and women, but don’t understand the slow, numbing feeling of emptiness. We have been told to get over it. Men are told it’s not our choice, so we shouldn’t feel anything. Keep your feelings to yourself. Be a Man! Well, that’s the problem, I wasn’t a man. A man would have spoken up. A man would protect his baby and her mother. But I didn’t know.

I watch an old movie I hadn’t seen for a long time. A Raisin in the Sun starring Sydney Poitier as Walter Lee. In the movie the family is poor and Walter Lee’s wife is pregnant. She plans to get an abortion and asks her husband what she should do. Walter Lee’s mother tells him to be a man. She says, “…say we’re a people who give children life, not who destroys them.” And Walter Lee says…nothing.

When a woman comes to her husband or her boyfriend and ask what she should do, or has already made her decision and she tells you she’s going to get an abortion she is asking what she should do. She is asking you to be a man!

I didn’t know what abortion was, so I said… nothing.

Sometime later my girlfriend who is now my ex-wife called to tell me that she had to have a hysterectomy and that the only child she would ever conceive would be the child we killed through abortion.
Through the healing process I have not only sought the forgiveness of God, but that of our baby, my daughter, and I know that for all these many years the Father comforts her in a way I never could, and she waits for me with open arms. I have seen her smiling face in my dreams and I praise God. Thank you, Jesus.

This is my story and this is why I now choose to speak up. To help people, but particularly men, to know what abortion is, because I didn’t know. Abortion is a lie.

Something to Think About

When I think about the countries/cultures around the world that respect the life of the unborn I realize these are Muslim cultures. Putting aside for a moment the flaws in Muslim culture I have to honor and respect their willingness to stand and defend innocent unborn live. It was pointed out to me that some countries, where Muslim and Christian cultures (predominantly Catholic) have great influence, have in the past blocked efforts of pro-abortion advocates in the UN from making the right to abortion an "international law." A law many still hope to bring about.

As we read scripture and look at history we can see that God has used unbelievers to correct the wrongs, the sins of His people. What if God does this to the "West," to America. Already Muslims are reproducing themselves more quickly in Europe than Europeans are. The United States is doing better, but not by much. In the past Islam was spread mostly by the sword, but now it seems to be growing and spreading without violence. There is no need to fly planes into buildings. Wait long enough and Muslims will out number Christians. Then when they have enough votes, and if not corrupted by our western relativistic culture's blind embrace of contraception and abortion, they will elect Muslims to government offices and appoint Muslim judges and enact laws protecting the unborn while at the same time enacting Shariah law under which non-Muslims would suffer.

Could that be the way God will punish us and protect his little ones while we Christians did not? Something to think about.

Take at look at who is standing up for the unborn.
http://www.cwnews.com/news/viewstory.cfm?recnum=54827

Continuing Conversions

I have been trying to find the time to sit down and put into words some of the things I have come to see since God blessed me with the Grace to know that there is Truth.

What is Truth? as Pilate said to Jesus. Sometimes I wonder if it was actually a question or rather a statement.

Before I came into full communion with the Catholic Church I can honestly say I was a liberal Democrat. I voted a straight democratic ticket with the exception of Senator Richard Lugar. As far as I could tell everyone at work was as liberal as I was. Every time a republican would say something that sounded stupid (Dan Quayle and President Bush II come to mind) we would be all over them. Any mistake was a chance to criticize and pass judgment on the incompetent politician whoever they were as long as they were affiliated with the republican party.

I was also pro-choice. I remember having a discussion with my wife in which I defended a woman's right to choose. Ever notice when somebody says they support a woman's right to choose they never say the right to choose what. For instance I never would have said, "I support a woman's right to choose to abort her baby." or "...to kill her baby."

The year the scales fell from my eyes was 2004, a presidential election year. In years past I would have voted for Kerry, Julia Carson and all the rest without even thinking, but Dick Lugar would get my vote. In 2004 I watched a presidential debate and heard Senator Kerry say that he was Catholic. With what seemed to be pride he said he served as an alter boy, but in the next sentence if I recall correctly he basically pledged to defend Roe vs Wade. I couldn't understand how he could stand there on national-international television and say that. How could I vote for John Kerry now. If only he hadn't taken such a strong stand on the issue I might have been able to vote for him. With the trouble in Iraq, terrorist attacks, the chance of appointing "pro-life" judges I was in a quandary of who to vote for. George W. Bush was not my idea of a good president. A president should be...well, smarter than I am.

At work I found myself silent when my fellow employees would make negative comments about George W. Before, I would have joined them. But now I realized there was more at stake. Everyday 3,500-4,000 babies are legally killed in the United States, deaths that are sanctioned by our government. A government comprised of men and woman I either vote for or are appointed by someone I vote for. Could I allow myself to be apart of that? I had been challeged by people who were strongly against the conflict in Irag. Well, I was with Colin Powell anyway. I didn't think we should have gone in there at the time we did, but it was too late to fall back on that now. The election was coming up and I had to make a decision.

I can't leave out embrionic stem cell research, the real possibility of cloning, all the life issues that at one time I would have thought were great ideas. I can't explain it, but after my life changed I couldn't go along with it anymore. I couldn't support the killing of the innocent. I couldn't condone with my vote the misuse of God's children. I couldn't say yes to the creation of human life only to destroy it for the purpose of saving my own. God had changed my life in more ways then I knew.

Now I can't think of a political issue without thinking about God. About what he teaches me through his Church. When I hear someone talking about how many people are dying in Iraq I think about how many innocent babies die here in the land of the free, home of the brave. My fellow employess have learned not to talk about certain issues when they are around me, because they know I'll have something to say.

The last presidential election was very hard for me. Oh, I'm still a democrat, and I'm still liberal, but now I'm Pro-life. Yeah, they do go together.

May the Peace of Christ be with you,

ROAD TO CONVERSION
Baptist Born and Bred
In some ways my journey began in March of 1999, the day my father died. That event brought to mind age-old questions: Why am I here? What is my purpose? What is the meaning of life? But I also began to wonder why I should want to continue living. Someday everyone I love will die and I will be alone, so why continue to live in this world of pain, sadness and suffering? Be assured those were in no manner suicidal thoughts, but simply feelings of loss, of emptiness. Ever since 1992, when I had been raised to the degree of Master Mason, the third generation of my family to do so in this particular lodge, my father and I were inseparable. We attended lodge meetings at least three times a month. We talked constantly about lodge business and activities. Freemasonry had allowed me to get to know my father in a way I had not known him before.
Before I became a Mason we didn’t have too much to say to each other. I am grateful that our parents taught my older brother and sister and me to say, “I love you.” My father had no problem expressing his love for us, but still he was distant, at least from me. I never saw my father cry, except later in life when his sister died, or express any emotion other than happiness, or of course occasionally disappointment at my failure to spell a word correctly or figure out the correct answer to a math problem. In fact the only time I saw him angry was when I refused to study with my math tutor during a full hour for which he had to pay, and even then each slap of his belt on my body was painless. He didn’t seem to know how to whip me. Whippings were not the way my father commanded respect and obedience from his children; he simply gave us a certain look.
But after I became a Mason that all changed. We traveled to conventions together sharing ideas about how to help the lodge improve. Together we complained about this or that member of the lodge who didn’t fulfill his duties. We became friends and brothers. But as our friendship grew my father’s health weakened. His youthful walk turned into a shuffling struggle due to lower back pain. He suffered a stroke, heart attack and bypass surgery, but still he attended every lodge meeting and went to church on Sunday.

Growing up Baptist we three kids learned to dress appropriately to worship the Lord. Every Easter we received a new suit or dress, in my sister’s case, which we would wear to church, our Sunday best. I remember sitting between my mother and father, Momma occasionally raising her voice as the Holy Spirit moved her. I learned to lean away toward Daddy to avoid her flailing arms. And then at the end of the service Daddy would sing along with the choir: “God bless you and guide you wherever you go, to tell of a savior whom sinners may know. Keep working for Jesus ‘till the close of the day. God bless you and keep you always.” The rumbling of his voice made me feel safe and close to God.

Our entire family was Baptist as far as I knew. My grandfather, on my mother’s side, was pastor of New Era Baptist Church for many years. Church was a big part of our family life. Mom and Dad both made it clear, not so much with words but actions, how important church, God and Jesus were. After getting married Momma left Grandpa’s church to join Daddy’s church, Mt. Zion Baptist. Although Mt. Zion was not a foot stompin’, tambourine shaking kind of church, we had our share of good old gospel music. Our pastor would often ask, “Do you know you’re saved?” It seemed everyone held up their hand. I often wondered if everyone with their hand in the air really knew they were saved or if they just did it because everyone else did. I didn’t hold up my hand. I didn’t know if I was saved. I didn’t understand how Jesus would save me in spite of myself. There had to be more to salvation; otherwise when Jesus returned, would he judge only by who believes and who does not believe? What about the actions of my life? What had I done for Jesus? Did I feed the hungry? Did I cloth the naked? Did I give drink to the thirsty? Did I visit the sick? And if I didn’t, did it matter? Jesus said it did, but should I raise my hand anyway?

At a crucial point in my journey as I considered leaving Mt. Zion, I sought the guidance of the new pastor of the Baptist church my grandfather had helped establish some fifty years before. He related a story to me about an Asian monk he and his young daughter had met. The little girl later asked if the man would go to heaven to be with God. The pastor explained that because the monk had not accepted Jesus he could not be saved. The pastor hated to say this to his daughter because he knew the monk was a very kind and good man. The pastor went on to explain to me that if one accepts Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior will be saved. “Even someone who lives a terribly sinful life will be saved?” I asked. “Yes,” he replied, asking “Do you believe the scripture?” “Yes, I do,” I said to the pastor. But how will we be saved? This I asked of God.

“Once saved always saved” was the idea I couldn’t get out of my mind. After “shopping around” for a church-home I decided to join a Community Christian Church. The Church was essentially a non-denominational Christian Church. There I met people of various denominational backgrounds. I worshiped with Methodists, Baptists, Presbyterians, Catholics, and at least one Lutheran. This had to be what Jesus meant when he prayed for the unity of all those who believe. For about one year I served as an usher before finally agreeing to join the choir. I enjoyed singing praises to the Lord, and Rev. Shields, our pastor, preached the Word of God with such love and devotion. Three years later I began to question the purpose of our Church. We had no creed or declaration of belief. We believed in Jesus Christ. Yes, we believed in loving and helping our neighbor, but something was missing. We seemed to embrace a formless, general kind of Christianity with little room for discussion of doctrine and very little structure. I soon realized that there could be no talk of doctrine because this would cause division among the various backgrounds making up our congregation. Our Christianity was a feel good Christianity that needed to be so politically correct and needed to be so inclusive that any talk, which could mean one might have to think beyond the “surface” of Christianity, could disrupt the harmony of the congregation. The surface wasn’t enough; I needed to know what I believed.

Catholic? No way.
In the meantime my wife, Rebecca, a Catholic convert since her teens, had returned to the Catholic Church. I never really knew her reasons for leaving the Church, but after a trip to Turkey, with me cat-sitting at home, she came back a changed person. Every Sunday she went to church. Occasionally she even went to church during the week. She started going to church on Friday nights for what I later found out was Eucharist Adoration. Thankfully she didn’t try to explain that one to me at the time. Now that she had returned to the Catholic Church I learned that we needed to be married in the Church so that she could receive Holy Communion. This of course was all very strange to me, but being the dutiful husband I agreed to take the steps necessary to dissolve my previous marriage while Rebecca sought an annulment of hers.

Question after question from the Metropolitan Tribunal about the most embarrassing failure of my life had to be painstakingly answered. Strangers were going to read this and judge my failed marriage as being valid or not. How dare they decide whether or not I was married! I hated it and I hated my wife for making me do it. After several weeks I received word that the Vatican had declared my marriage dissolved, but it took some months longer for my wife’s to be annulled. Then we were married at the chapel of the Bishop’s Cathedral. The wedding was in Latin. Although most of the wedding was in English much of it I didn’t understand and neither did my family and friends, but we were married, again, and Rebecca could now receive Holy Communion.

Although the process of dissolution of my first marriage had been hard, it had a profound impression on me. What was marriage? When asked by the Pharisees, in the Gospel of Mark, if it is lawful for a man to divorce his wife, Jesus says, “…a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh. So they are no longer two but one flesh.” Jesus says that no one can separate such a joining, and he goes on to say, “Whoever divorces his wife and marries another commits adultery against her; and if she divorces her husband and marries another, she commits adultery.” I had to ask myself what was the meaning of this statement. I had been divorced and remarried, but nothing had ever been said to me about this declaration on marriage made by Jesus himself. As a Protestant I thought it proper to be married by a minister, to be married before the eyes of God and man, and yet all I needed for the divorce was civil acknowledgement. Somehow in light of Jesus’ statement something felt wrong here. The church was concerned about performing the marriage ceremony, but ignored the consequences of remarriage. The Catholic Church on the other hand said differently. The question became whether or not the first marriage was valid, not whether or not I had been married. Marriage was more than just a contract between partners. This thought stayed at the back of my mind as my journey continued.

Having been raised to go to church I believed strongly in a family worshipping together. I realized my wife preferred to attend her church, but hoped we could alternate occasionally and visit each other’s church. Now when I say my wife preferred to attend her church I should clarify what I mean by that. Rebecca would not even walk into a Protestant church unless it was for a funeral or wedding. In fact she would not attend a Mass in English if one in Latin were being celebrated. You see my wife was a religious snob. Once we had a very heated discussion over her refusal to visit my church. This was no small barrier to my attempts at worshipping together.
Feeling frustrated and unsure what to do to bring us together I decided to take an introduction to religion class at a nearby university. During the class we touched on all the major religions, Islam, Judaism, Jainism, Hinduism, Buddhism, Confucianism, and, of course, Christianity. While studying I slowly came to the realization that all religions have the same purpose. Since the beginning of time, when man first began to think beyond himself he started asking questions like: Who am I? Why am I here? What is the meaning of life? These questions, I found, were similar to my own. Questions that all lead to the ultimate question of man’s desire to seek, find and dwell with God.

While reflecting on my Christian faith I realized that I didn’t really know what I believed or more importantly why I believed it. On the next stop along my journey I decided to learn about the Reformation and do a general study of Protestantism. I learned that the Reformation started long before Martin Luther, and that those who wanted reform were not originally desirous of dividing the Church, but rather “reforming” the Church. After deciding it would be appropriate to study the Reformation from the other side, I was surprised to learn that there were people who remained within the Church while at the same time calling and working for reform.
As for Protestantism I soon began to realize how many different Christian denominations there are in the world. It boggled my mind that upwards of 25,000 to 30,000 had come into existence since Martin Luther was excommunicated. With that many denominations, that many differences of opinion, how could anyone choose the right one to join? Ever since the Reformation churches have split off to start other churches and over a period of 500 years that’s a lot of churches.

I learned that the Catholic Church claimed to be the Church founded by Jesus, but so did the Eastern Orthodox Church. I also discovered that several Protestant churches made the same claim, but that was too far fetched for me. Because my wife was Catholic I chose to start there and find out why she was so devoted to the Catholic Church. My first step was to attend a series of talks given at my wife’s church. The theme of the series was “How the Catholic Church and other churches are similar, and how they are different.” Most of the talks were lead by the Pastor, Monsignor Joseph Schaedel. At that time I refused to call priests father. I would either avoid addressing them by name or refer to them as Reverend. I wasn’t sure I liked Rev. Schaedel. It was hard to give him a chance because two of the three other priests I had previously met came across to me as arrogant snobs, just as I believed all Catholics to be.
Thankfully I was not raised within a family or church with an anti-Catholic attitude. However, in grade school I recall one of my best friends saying that all Jews were going to go to hell and so were Catholics because they weren’t Christians. Now I couldn’t believe that my friend, Paul, who happened to be Jewish, was going to hell because all religions have some of God’s truth. Certainly not all Jews would go to hell. I wasn’t so sure about Catholics, so I asked my father. As I said before my father didn’t talk much, so when I asked him if Catholics were Christians he simply said, “Yes.” After “Rev.” Thomas covered how the Catholic Church and other churches are alike then came the differences: Mary, the Real Presence, praying to saints, and the toughest one of all, confession to a priest. What I really needed to know was what, as a Christian, I would have to give up to become Catholic. Not that I had any intention to become Catholic, but the answer was…nothing. I would not have to give up anything, but I would need to pick up so much more.

Completion
This gift of Grace, my conversion, can best be summed up like this:
At one time I stood in a lighted room seeing what I believed to be all there was to see around me, yet realizing that something was missing. Studying the history and teaching of the Catholic Church opened the door that began my journey. The more I learned the further down the hallway I walked until I noticed another light. At this point I had only been inquiring, hoping to gain some insight as to my wife’s deep devotion to the Catholic Church. Shouldn’t one be devoted to Jesus rather than to an organization? The Catholic Church taught about authority, this was the key. Don’t all Christians believe that Christ set up his Church and chose the apostles to continue his ministry after his return to the Father? What were his intentions after those he had chosen died? In the Gospel according to Matthew, Jesus said to Peter, “I will give you the keys to the kingdom of heaven. Whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven; and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven." What did this mean? In the Gospel according to John, Jesus breathed on the apostles and said, "Receive the Holy Spirit. Whose sins you forgive are forgiven them, and whose sins you retain are retained." Authority! Jesus had not only passed on his ministry to his apostles, but his authority as well! His authority to forgive sins! Was this right? Was I reading this scripture correctly? Jesus couldn’t lie, and if my understanding was right, could it be that Jesus meant for this authority to die out with the apostles? No, of course not. Why give such authority to men and have it exist only during the first century of the Church he founded? With this revelation the light at the other end of the hallway began to outshine the old light. This brighter light was clearer and I could see things I had never see before, but still I was afraid. I had no intention of becoming Catholic. My God, not one of those arrogant, know-it-alls. Even though I had joined a non-denominational Christian church I was Baptist to the bone. Catholic? No, never. I stood in the darkness of the hallway afraid to go forward, afraid to go back.

I knew I couldn’t remain in the hallway. I had to make a decision. Going back I would feel like a hypocrite. Pretending to profess something I didn’t believe was out of the question. I had to face the obstacles, those things that were alien to the experience of my life. The first was the notion that the Catholic Church was “the white man’s church.” I learned about St. Moses the Black from Ethiopia, St. Anthony the Great of Thebes, St. Augustine of Hippo (present day Algeria) and his mother St. Monica. There was Pope St. Victor I, Pope St. Gelasius I, Pope St. Miliades I, all popes from the region of North Africa. I learned about St. Martin de Porres, the first Black American Saint, SS. Felicitas and Perpetua, and Pierre Toussaint. These were only some of the people of African descent I met along my journey who contributed to Christianity and the Roman Catholic Church.

The second obstacle was the Eucharist. I had never considered whether or not I really received the body and blood of Christ at communion. To eat the body and blood of Christ was impossible. Communion is a symbol of our unity with each other and with Christ, nothing more and nothing less. I was familiar with the Gospel verses of Jesus saying, “This is my body… this is my Blood… Do this in remembrance of me.” Symbol? Well…, what about John 6 where Jesus said, “Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him on the last day.” Six times Jesus makes reference to the need of those who believe in him to consume his flesh and his blood. Jesus said the bread from heaven was his flesh and that, “...my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me and I in him.” Again I wondered if I was reading this correctly? Am I missing a word? Nowhere did I read the word “symbol,” and Jesus offered no explanation as most of his disciples walked away. Jesus can’t lie. God can do anything. Jesus is God. Jesus said “This is my Body.”

This was it. God, in his mercy had touched my heart and opened my mind. I no longer had a choice when God, through his Grace had shown me his Truth. With no more fear, no more trepidation, I walked toward the brighter light, the clearer light and gave myself to the Lord, to his Church. Now I realized what I had interpreted as arrogance on the part of some Catholics I had met was really an assurance of God’s revelation to his people.

Farewell
It would be wrong to leave out a very important part of my conversion. Freemasonry was a big part of my life, a part of me. There are many negative things said about Masonry, although in my experience I can’t say I ever found anything negative about it in relation to its moral teachings. A Mason is to be an honest man, a believer in God, (the god of his choice), a good citizen obeying the laws of the land and helping his fellow man. Freemasonry taught me how to be a responsible man. The Catholic Church, long an adversary of Freemasonry, has taught that Masonry teaches religious indifferentism, that is to say, that it makes no difference what religion one professes as long as one is a believer in God. I realized that this idea that one religion is as good as another, or as true as another, conflicted with my belief as a Christian. As a Christian one must believe that the truth of Jesus Christ is the full and complete revelation of God, the Word of God. Although I believed Freemasonry to be an honorable and worthwhile organization I could not reconcile what I knew as a Christian with what Masonry professed. Leaving my Masonic lodge was one of the most difficult decisions of my life. When I told one of my closest friends, a member of the lodge, that I intended to become Catholic and leave the lodge he accused me of turning my back on my heritage. But in truth, I knew I had found my heritage.

LENT

Like so much of Catholic teaching one must have an understanding of both the old and new testaments. That, "..the new is hidden in the old and the old is revealed in the new." St. Augustine.

The 40 days of Lent consist of the forty days from Ash Wednesday through Holy Saturday not including Sundays because it is the Lord's day, that is the day that Christ rose from the dead. (Sunday is also the day Christ appeared to the apostles who had hidden themselves behind locked doors after his crucifixion.) An understanding of the liturgical calendar is helpful for understanding Lent as well.

Essentially what we see in the old testament more than once is a reference to the number forty. For instance following Israel's being freed from Egyptian bondage by God through the person of Moses the Israelites wandered for forty years in the desert searching for the promised land. God's chosen people, his "first born" left their captors in faith and belief in their God, Jehovah , yet along the way they fell in and out of faith with God. While Moses was on the mountain conversing with God the Israelites talked Aaron into making the Golden Calf that they worshiped. Finally after years of wandering they find the promised land, the promised gift.

In the new testament before beginning his ministry our Lord, the first born son, went into the desert, fasting and being tempted by Satan. After many days Jesus is ministered to by angels. What are the similarities between these two elements of scripture? In both, the "first born" goes into the desert. Both suffer, the Israelites because of their lack of faith and Jesus though his own fasting. Both are tempted, the Israelites by the desire to revert to the pagan worship they lived among in Egypt where at least they knew what they had and through lack of faith yearned for the past, and Jesus by Satan who promised everything to Jesus if he would only bow down and worship him. While the Israelites succumbed to temptation, Jesus did not. Both receive a gift, the Israelites the promised land and Jesus is ministered to by angels. The gift is given not because it is deserved, but rather because God is good and merciful.

As Christians we must all journey into the desert. Everyone's suffering is different, and suffering will come at different times in our lives as God wills or allows. Not because he wills that we suffer, but rather because at certain times in our lives we must go into the desert to find our way back to him. It is in the desert where we must find our way by God's Grace to his Truth. Lent is meant to symbolize the desert, and our penance symbolizes our suffering. When we give up something we think of as important, something we crave, it is a way of defeating our physical passions. Control of the physical body is symbolic of control of the will. If we learn to subdue our physical passions we can learn to subdue our will. For a Christian to subdue our passions is not simply a matter of "controlling" our will, but rather a giving over of our will to God by welcoming his will into our lives. This is the purpose of giving up chocolate for Lent. It may seem a small thing, but it is sometimes the small things that help us to learn how to deal with the big things.

"Lent should also be a time for deeper meditation on the word of God, which will lead to conversion (a deep relationship with Christ) and to concrete acts of charity." Pope Benedict XIV. Studying scripture can help to deepen our faith. By faith we can better conform our will to that of God and do the work of Jesus as he commanded. Besides giving up something we can perform works of charity by working at a homeless shelter, visiting the elderly in a nursing home, the sick in the hospital or the imprisoned. We can help at a hospice facility, soup kitchen even an animal shelter.

The point of doing these kinds of things is that our bodies are one with our souls, and what we do with our bodies, good or bad, has consequences on our souls. For by God's grace the body and the soul are "one" until the time it is separated by God, and yet it remains one in that God will bring the two together in His time. Lent is a time to practice self-discipline. If we can do it for forty days try adding ten more days, and ten more. Lent is meant to show that we can indeed subdue our passions.

Finally, Lent is also a time of preparation for the arrival into the city, the death and rising of the King. The passion of the Christ.