Conversion? I think not.

Last year at church, during the announcement portion at the end, when everyone is gathering their belongings and wiggly children and thinking about what to have for lunch, I heard a blurb about a meeting for anyone looking to join the Catholic faith.

For the first time in the 17 years that I’ve been attending Catholic Church with Drew, I felt something. A pull. A draw. A something. It was small, but it was there. And then we went to lunch.

The next weekend brought the same announcement and that same strange feeling.

By the third week, I mentioned to Drew that I was thinking about going to the meeting just to see what it was all about. No biggie. Just to check it out.

I was born and raised in the Protestant church. I went to Sunday school every week and we attended church semi-regularly. I’ve never felt especially loyal to one denomination over another, and for a long time, I didn’t think there was really even a need for any organized religion in my life. I’ve always considered myself a spiritual person and have tried over the years to become a more knowledgeable Christian. A love of all things historical has also led me to investigate other religions over the years and I have always been intrigued by the fact that at the core most religions are more alike than they are different.

It was with this thirst for knowledge that I signed myself up for the year long Rite of Christian Initiation for Adults (RCIA). I figured that learning is always a good thing and when I got to the point that my heart and my head were no longer in sync, I would stop going.

I started sharing my journey with friends. The reaction that I got from most was, “Oh, so you are converting to Catholicism?”

My kneejerk reaction to that was denial.

The dictionary defines conversion as “a change or adaption in form, character, or function; spiritual change from sinfulness to righteousness.”

I didn’t think this described what I was doing at all. Nothing about me was going to change. My beliefs were not changing. I certainly wasn’t going from being a sinner to being righteous. As much as I try to remain on the straight and narrow on a daily basis, I will always be a sinner. I just didn’t feel like conversion is what my journey was about.

So I showed up every week, notebook in hand, with question after question after question. Yeah, I was THAT girl. Everyone else halfway out the door, me wondering if we could just discuss it for 2 more minutes because I wanted to make sure I really got it. Some days I left feeling like my spirit and the church were in perfect harmony. Some days I left enraged. One time in tears. But always, always with more understanding about WHY the Catholic Church believes what it believes and what it asks of God’s people.

The hardest part of my journey came when I realized that I was going to become a Catholic and that I was going to have to tell my parents. They were coming to visit and there was no way of avoiding the conversation. I’d concocted this elaborate story in an attempt to avoid telling them, but decided in the end, in the interest of honesty that I had to tell them the truth. It wasn’t that I was ashamed or unsure of what I was doing, it was that I didn’t want them to think that I didn’t value or respect the religious upbringing that they gave me. Actually, nothing could have been farther from the truth. I believe that it was their strong spiritual foundation that gave me the courage to explore my own path. In the end, they were supportive and understanding, which was yet another sign to me that I was heading in the right direction.

So on Saturday April 23^rd, I stood before my family, my sponsors, my church, and my God and became a Catholic.

To be honest, I still don’t feel any different because I don’t think anything about me actually changed. I doubt that even God would be able to see a change in my spirit. I’ve learned a lot over the past year of my religious education, but fundamentally, I am the same. And I think that’s what made me the happiest at the end of it all. I’m still me.

I’ve always felt that all Christians, and even non-Christians who believe in the creator, are a lot alike. We spend A LOT of time discussing (re: fighting) about all the ways our beliefs conflict with one another. But if we look a little more closely, I think we’d all find that the lines we’ve drawn between one another are much thinner than we think. Much of what I was taught growing up as a Protestant was just the flip side of the same coin that I learned about this year. Two different ways of looking at the same thing. And more often than not, I was just reaffirming what I already knew in my heart to be true. So much of the faith that religion requires is merely speculation on our part to begin with. We are all together on this human journey just trying to figure out what feels “right” or “safe” or “like home” to us. If we are truly honest, we will all acknowledge that none of us have all the answers while we are here on earth. We just do the best we can with the information that we are taught and let God lead our hearts in the direction He wants us to go.

And so I can now add Catholic to the list of things that I am. Right up there with Soccer Mom. Does being Catholic make me a better person or ensure that my life will be without trial? Certainly not. But I do feel like the experience of the journey itself has made me fuller in my faith and stronger in my convictions. And for that I am truly grateful.