Musings of a Catholic Convert

Today I make my appearance on The Journey Home on EWTN (8pm Eastern).  I've been looking forward to this appearance for a long time.  Let me tell you something.  When opportunities for ministry like this present themselves, SOMEBODY is not going to like it.  I've been under spiritual attack for at least two weeks now.  It's not like there wasn't already spiritual warfare going on, but it is palatable these last two weeks.  Around every turn there is an adversary for me to face or a challenge to overcome.  Needless to say I'm tired from all the struggles and I can't claim that all battles have been won.  I trust in God's grace to get me through, knowing also that this appearance must be pretty important for the Gospel or else I don't think I would be attacked this hard.  I'm anxious to see what God chooses to do tonight and I'm happy to be the weak earthen vessel for His purpose. 

I appreciate your prayers.  If you happen to be offering rosaries today, please consider adding me to your intentions.

Thanks.

Completing a manuscript is no easy feat.  It's nothing you can just whip out in a few minutes, days, or weeks.  Writing is every bit as much a discipline as it is a charism and/or skill.  I don't have the charism of writing (at least I doubt very seriously that I do, else I would have WAY more readers commenting), but I feel compelled to write.  Right now, the most compelling thing for writing is my story.  I want to put it all to paper before the little details slip from my mind.  I want to be able to look back not just on "the big stuff" of critical moments and crises of faith, but I want to see the whole story in all its detail.  Once that is done, I want to condense it into a handy book and get it published.  

Anyway, that was my thought for the day.  Writing can be frustrating.  

If you have a charism for writing, please join this catholic blogging community.  You can teach me.

I spoke with Jim Anderson at the Coming Home Network this afternoon.  We've put a new date on the Calendar.  Schedule your parties for Monday, April 14 at 8pm Eastern.  Barring anything unusual happening, I'll be back in Birmingham for another go at The Journey Home on EWTN.  

I've updated the countdown timer to the right so you won't forget.  

You should also know, should you ever venture to the Birmingham area, that Tavern on the Summit is a great place to eat.  Very friendly and attentive staff and reasonably priced entrees.  Not too hard to find either.  Just off the beltway and less than 10 minutes from Irondale and the EWTN studios.  It looks like there were some really neat stores as well, but we wanted to head home. 

Morning, everybody.  My appearance tonight on "The Journey Home" with Marcus Grodi on EWTN has been cancelled.  I received the call last night from Jim Anderson of the Coming Home Network, that Marcus was ill and would not be able to make the taping today.  He also said that I would be rescheduled sometime soon.  Check back here for updates.  As soon as I'm rescheduled, you'll see the new information here.

Thanks for your prayers.  Pray now for Marcus that he'll get better soon.  

The trip wasn't a total waste (yes-I was already in Birmingham when I learned of the cancellation).  I had my good friend Larry with me to keep me awake and share good conversation.   

Back to work I go.

Oh, sorry that you all had to cancel your "Andy on EWTN" parties.  Just take the banners and streamers down and save them for the next time.   

I am scheduled to appear on television Monday.

I'll be Marcus Grodi's guest on EWTN's "The Journey Home" television program.

The Journey Home airs on Monday's at 7pm Central on EWTN.

Since I got my invitation, people have been telling me that they are going to watch me and that they will be praying for me.  Well, folks, I'm calling in those favors.  I want your prayers.  Why?  Not just because of my nerves, but because of what I feel is riding on this show appearance.  You see, I've been wanting to be on Marcus' show for a while because I feel that the way God has dealt with me over the past 15 years has a message for cradle Catholics, Catholic converts, and even non-Catholics, whether they are exploring the Church or not.  I have seen such a HUGE spiritual change in my life that I want others to know THIS IS POSSIBLE.  It's not psychological, it's not triumphalism, it's not emotional, it's not anything people might seek to use as a label to "excuse away" what has happened TO me and IN me.  The answer is one word - Grace.  Grace, not just a concept of kindness or mercy, but ACTUAL supernatural grace has changed EVERYTHING.  I'll never be the same again.  

How will I convey that to the global audience watching EWTN?  I've been wrestling with this for weeks, trying to shorten my testimony to fit in the allotted time and agonizing over which details have to be left out.  Many of you have read my story before, and many of you have heard portions of my testimony in the various talks and sessions I've delivered over the last five years.  Those posts and those witnesses only barely scrape the surface of what has occurred in my life by God's love and mercy.  And, yes, that's why the book is in the works.  But, back to my request, I want your prayers.  I know and I'm 100% sure that the Holy Spirit is in charge and that He will provide me with the right things to say.  This is His gig, not mine.  I am also 100% sure that God uses the prayers of the faithful to work and move.  After all, we are family, co heirs with Christ and fellow laborers for His Kingdom.  So will you pray for me?  I know the answer, and I appreciate your willingness to support me.  

I’m posting an article from the February 10, 2008 East Tennessee Catholic about Bishop-Designate James Vann Johnston because I am excited he is coming closer to my neck of the woods.  Then Father Vann Johnson was one of two priests in Knoxville who took time out of their super hectic schedules to speak with me regarding the Catholic Faith.  Bishop-designate Johnston and his ministry are special to me.  He’s a good man and I know the people of his new diocese are going to love him. 

Future bishop’s new diocese ‘in many ways’ like his native one

Bishop-designate James Vann Johnston’s new diocese in Missouri is larger than his native one of Knoxville by some 10,000 square miles, although the number of Catholics—as in East Tennessee—represents a small percentage of the population.

The Diocese of Springfield-Cape Girardeau was founded in 1956, and its 25,719 square miles include the 39 counties of southern Missouri. Sixty-six parishes and 19 missions serve 66,000 Catholics in an area that has about 1 million people overall. The diocese has 22 elementary and three high schools. Retiring Bishop John J. Leibrecht, 77, is the diocese’s longest-serving ordinary.

More than 40 active diocesan priests serve with fellow clergy from several religious communities.

“I think I’ll fit in pretty well,” said Bishop-designate Johnston. “In many ways it’s a lot like the Diocese of Knoxville. The Catholic Church there is strong and has been there a while, but it’s still a distinct minority.

“Many of the parishes are small- to medium-sized and in areas where they may be the only Catholic church for miles. Many of the priests there have to serve several parishes or missions, so I’m familiar with what the priests’ situation is because it sounds very similar to the church I’ve grown up in.”

The diocese’s seven seminarians include two transitional deacons. “That’ll be one of my happier tasks this summer: ordaining two priests,” said Bishop-designate Johnston.

The Springfield–Cape Girardeau Diocese includes most of the Mark Twain National Forest. “It’s a beautiful area, and I’m glad it’s pretty,” said Bishop-designate Johnston. “I’ll be going back and forth through there a lot.”

Much of the Catholic population in Springfield–Cape Girardeau is in the two see cities. Entertainment mecca Branson lies just south of Springfield. The city of Springfield, with about 150,000 residents, is the third largest in Missouri and by far the biggest in the diocese. Joplin, on the Kansas border near Oklahoma, is another principal city.

Diocesan offices are at the Catholic Center in Springfield, next to St. Agnes Cathedral. The bishop’s residence is an older home, “a beautiful two-story house” in Springfield, said its future occupant.

The diocese has a second cathedral, St. Mary, in Cape Girardeau, a Mississippi River town about three counties above Tennessee’s northwest corner and some 270 miles from Springfield. The cathedral rectory includes an apartment for the bishop.

The Catholic Center was the former home of Springfield Catholic High School before it moved.

“The bishop told me not to be surprised if in the middle of the day I hear somebody shooting baskets down the hall in the gym,” said Bishop-designate Johnston.

The bishop-designate met with Catholic Center staffers following a press conference announcing his appointment Jan. 24.

“I was very impressed with the priests,” said Bishop-designate Johnston, “but also I had a chance to meet our Chancery staff, and they look to be a wonderful group of people. I’m looking forward to working with them.”

Two future cardinals first became bishops for Springfield–Cape Girardeau: Cardinal Bernard F. Law and Cardinal William W. Baum.

Bishop-designate Johnston said one of his only two previous trips to Missouri involved Cardinals—a stop in St. Louis to see the baseball team of that name. He also was present for Pope John Paul II’s 1999 visit to St. Louis.

Here’s another article about his appointment.  Hooray for awesome Priests and Bishops!

A friend of mine shared this testimony with me and, after receiving his permssion, I decided to share it with you.I know that not many can remember the first time in their life when they heard the name of Jesus. I am privileged to not only remember that time but also to remember the special grace that came with that hearing.

In 1944 I was five years old and at that time our family lived in Chicago. My mother had a friend that she said that she liked “even though she was Catholic” and even at that age, from the way that she said it, I knew that being a Catholic was not good. When I ask her what a Catholic was I did not get any answer. This of course made me very curious as I saw this lady as being quite beautiful not only in her appearance but also in a quietness and a gracefulness that seemed to always be about her. At the time, her husband was away at war and she was pregnant with their first child.

In the spring of that year for some reason, my mother allowed this lady to take me to church. This was the first time that I could remember ever being in any church and I was very impressed with the grandeur. Years later, after becoming Catholic, I visited all the churches in the area that we lived at that time to find out which one it was. I found that it was the Cathedral of the Chicago Diocese. We were seated on the left towards the rear of the church but we could see the altar very clearly and to this day it remains my favorite place to pray in any church. I remember the rich wood of the pews and the fine woodwork that was on the walls and the actions of the people led me to feel that this was a very special place. Not knowing what to do or how to act I just followed along observing a very reverent gentleman seated in front of us. As I became aware of the priest and everyone’s attention towards him, I of course wondered what was going on. I was very impressed with his vestments, as I had never seen anything like them before. It was probably Easter Sunday as the vestments were all white and gold. As time went on everyone began to kneel and I was about to do the same when this lady stopped me and told me that it was OK for me to stand so that could see. About this time, she whispered to me “Jesus is coming”. I had never heard of this Jesus but I was looking forward to seeing him and hear what he would have to say, as I knew that he had to be very special because of the way everyone was acting. I also wondered if he would be dressed in regular clothes and wear a hat or would he have on finer clothes than the man at the altar, although I couldn’t imagine anyone being dressed any finer than this. About this time the lady told me that “Jesus is very near” and so I was watching the altar very closely. She then pointed to the altar and whispered to me “Jesus is here do you see Him”… Looking at the altar at first I saw no one except the priest but then a sudden awareness took hold and I knew that the Host held high in the priests hands was Jesus and with that realization I also became aware of His great love for me. And then, with that realization, there came a wave much like a heat wave or a water wave but transparent up from the altar and over near the ceiling and I knew it was going to come crashing down on me. I was afraid so I ducked back into the pew to try and avoid it. But as I fled I felt a wave of love, what I now believe was the Holy Spirit, pass over and thru me and I felt this love completely envelope me. In the presence of this love there was Jesus. I was able to feel his love within my soul and to see my soul as it was, pure except for one black spot and I wanted to conceal this flaw from Jesus but I was unable to. I knew nothing of the soul or its existence and I certainly didn’t know anything about original sin and I hadn’t been baptized so I had no idea why there was this black mark but I sure wished that it wasn’t there. Not in words but just in a knowing Jesus assured me that it was OK and with that assurance, I just wanted to rest in His love. Then I felt that he wanted even somehow in a special way needed a gift from me, so I looked to my soul for something to give but there was nothing and again He assured me that this was OK and I was again able to rest in His love. There was no time as we know it involved in any of this, unable to describe, spoken and yet unspoken love and need and yet complete fulfillment. Then Jesus started to leave and I begged Him to stay but in an amused but loving very gentle way He assurance me that He would return and with that assurance I was able to let Him leave. As I said there was no conversation as we know it only an absolute complete and unmistakable understanding of the soul and of love. It is the greatest peace, joy and love that I shall ever feel in this life. To be honest it is enough. If I should cease to exist at my death, I would still owe God a debt for His love that I felt in just those few moments.

As we left the church, I was surprised at how casual everyone was as I assumed that everyone had the same experience. And riding home I wondered how long it would be until Jesus would return, I could hardly wait. When we arrived home my mother ask if I had been good and the lady said that I had been “a very good boy” and I was very pleased with having been so in her eyes as I loved her for taking me to this place and showing me Jesus. I still love and pray for her. After a few days, I became anxious and told my mother that I wanted to go back to church. As you might imagine she became very upset and of course told me that I couldn’t go. I remember sitting in the middle of my bed and crying. After all Jesus said that He would return and I knew that he couldn’t lie to me. I just didn’t understand why he wouldn’t return. This is when I said my first prayer “Jesus I don’t understand this, where are you, when and how will you return” and with that prayer I was lad to know that even though I didn’t understand that it was OK and that it was also true … Jesus would return. I wasn’t happy but it was enough.

So, what was I to do? As soon as I could, I started to go to church, Sunday school, and Bible study and it was great. My first denomination was The Salvation Army as that is where our neighbors went and my brother and I would tag along as we were on our own when it came to “church”. Then there was the Baptist and the Church of God and Bible summer camp where I was “Born Again” at about the age of 12 and then onto the Methodist where at a communion service the pastor went to great lengths to assure us that this was just a symbol and that it was only grape juice and not wine. Even at my young and uneducated age I wondered, “why not wine” hadn’t Jesus’ first and last miracles in scripture involved the changing of wine. First water to wine then wine to blood. Every Christen would believe the first miracle but not all will believe the second. Then there was the scandal of the cross. When the pastor had a cross placed over the communion rail many in the church were upset because it was too “Catholic”. That was it, although I had great times and learned much about Jesus and His love there was something missing… it was time to move on.

One of the best things to happen to me in my childhood was that we moved into a Polish neighborhood when I was about 10. Almost all of my friends were Polish; they were tough, stubborn and religious. There was a Polish parish at the other end of our block just 5 houses away. There was an Italian parish 2 blocks from our house and the Irish parish was 5 blocks and all 3 had schools K thru 6. The Polish church and school at the end of our block was by far the largest and had more students than the 2 public K thru 6 schools… A very Catholic neighborhood. How I loved the sound of the bells, the Church calling the faithful to prayer three times a day every day. I wondered why other Churches didn’t have or didn’t ring their bells. Anyway, when I got into high school I would go to the Public Library to do my homework and after that just read… I was finally able to study the Catholic Church. I read everything that I could get my hands on about the Church. It made so much since but even then, due to my Protestant background, there were things to overcome, especially about Mary… But I felt a real longing to belong to this Church. At 16 I quietly started going to Mass with my school friends. It was easy to follow, as the Mass’ were so crowded that the young guys had to stand at the side isles or at the back and sometimes even outside in the snow or rain. The only time that we had to kneel was for the consecration. If you did take a seat the ushers would have you move and give it to the families. The Mass was in Latin and many of the sermons in Polish but I loved it. Everyone, even the priests, knew that I wasn’t Catholic or Polish but they always made me feel really at home, more so than any Protestant church that I had belonged to. My high school football coach was an usher at the church that I was attending and if he didn’t see me at Mass he would ask which one I had gone to and if I hadn’t gone it was no joke, you went to Mass or you ran wind sprints, talk about penance and I didn’t even have to go to confession. But I loved it… a real community of faith… they cared.

After my 18th birthday, I knew that it was time to do something about joining the Church. My mother knew that I was going to Mass and in an unspoken compromise pushed me into the DeMolay hoping that I would find in the Mason Lodge the answer. She comes from a long line of Masons. So coward that I am I did nothing until one day walking down the street in front of the Irish parish stood the old Irish pastor of St Mary’s. Now this guy had a reputation of not being, shall we say, easygoing… but somehow I found myself asking him about joining the Church. His reply in a gruff voice was “The Church or the parish?” I said the Church. His reply was “Does this involve a girl?” “No just the church.” A stern look then “OK follow me” and he goes into the rectory looks at his assistant’s calendar and tells me to come back Tuesday evening at 7… Now what? I’ve never even been inside this parish church. But Tuesday at 7 I was there, I think that they were both a little surprised that I showed up. The assistant was newly ordained and I was his first convert. After a couple of hours of getting to know each other and my reasons for wanting to join the Church he gave me a Baltimore Catechism told me to study the first chapter memorize several prayers and come back next Tuesday. I was on my way… The next few months were great, the assistant and I made a real connection and I found the Pastor to be a stern but loving soul and later a great confessor. I entered the Church by Baptism on Christmas Eve 1958 with just my mother and father and my chosen godparents (my coach and his wife) present, my two brothers were not allowed to attend. Later that night I was finally able to receive Jesus at Christmas Midnight Mass. I think that only the priests and Jesus were aware that this was my first Holy Communion… It was all worth it, finally having Jesus in the sacrament of the Eucharist was then and is today my greatest joy…

And the gift? What greater gift can I give to God than the care and prayers for all of my brothers and sisters throughout time and thru His Catholic Church? But there are also special souls. People whose names I may not even know but with whom somehow I feel a special connection. You are one of these souls. May God bless you and your family and your work.

Thanks for sharing your story with us, my brother. It is a wonderful testimony to God’s grace and to our great Faith.