The Long Journey Home

“For some, the study of Christian behavior over the centuries, with all its horrors, has led to doubt, cynicism, and atheism. They see church councils bicker over petty jealousies, popes amassing wealth, bishops fathering children, monks living in dissipation; and at the dismaying sight, they lose faith. For me, however, Church history became one long confirmation of two realities:

The universality of sin and the sovereignty of grace.”

— Paul Thigpen

This Easter, I had the opportunity to welcome all THREE of my boys into the Catholic Church. As coincidence (or the Holy Spirit) would have it, Easter Vigil mass this year took place on the exact date that my dad had his hemorrhagic stroke six years ago. Perhaps more divinely, the Baptism of our boys took place during the hour that he progressed from brain injury to brain death and would ultimately enter into eternal life.

Like many millennials, I was raised in the Church and turned away during my teen years in response to what I perceived to be a rigidity to dogma at the expense of loving people well. I found myself with more questions than answers and struggled to find a place where I could freely participate in authentic questioning and dialogue. As time went on, I felt deep anger at the identified scandals, the abuse of power held over the laity, and what I perceived at the time to be an outward exclusion of those who were from inherently marginalized communities.

Todd Daer, who did not join the Catholic Church until he was an adult, had this innate way of loving the world well. Benevolence flowed out of him with an ease that was incongruent with my narrative of the Catholic Church at that time. Again, perhaps it was divine mercy that his unexpected passing occurred in my early 20’s right as I was getting married and in the stage of adult identity formation, but it was this experience that ultimately led me to embark upon an earnest search for “the truth.”

Unable to ask him directly how he had reconciled any of his own perceived hypocrisy between God and the people in the Church, I began a journey along the path he had taken himself, reading everything I could get my hands on that I knew he had read during his time in RCIA. With Jessica Irmen’s help, I poured over the truths shared by his favorite theologians and apologists. And because I don’t seem to be capable of making a single decision lightly, I went steps further, reading the Catechism cover to cover and digging deep into commentary on Canon Law. It (painstakingly) turned my view of my work, the world, and my place in the world upside down.

It has been six years since I slowly began my journey home to the Church. Just over a year ago, I more formally resumed my Catholic identity. And in a similar search, nine months ago, Marcus Shields came alongside to learn more as we discerned what this might mean for our family.

The nuance that exists in the space between grace and truth and the authority of the Church is much more than I could ever summarize in a Facebook post. But what I will share is the fullness of my acceptance that the Catholic Church has a rich and deeply complicated history.

At its best, the Church has been responsible for the revolutionary promotion of a society that upholds the fundamental dignity, equality, and aid of every human being, displayed through the largest collective philanthropic effort and social action the world has ever seen… But at its worst, the Church is accountable to the promulgation of misogyny, complicity in the sexual abuse of innocent children, and the corruption of institutional clericalism at the harm of its people.

So where does one go with these truths? How should we endeavor to reconcile a broken and divided world and the Church? In the face of it’s wrong doing, should we cast aside organized religion in favor of secular morality? Or maybe look to one of the nearly 45,000 formed Christian denominations since this time in hopes that with a different approach we may fall less prey to sin? In the words of Simon Peter, “Lord, to whom would we go? You have the words of real life. We’ve already committed ourselves, confident that you are the Holy One of God.” (John 6:68)

As is always the case when confronted with the complexity of humanity, we must be willing to be brave enough to hold on to two seemingly opposing truths:

1. The universality of sin, and

2. The sovereignty of grace.

These words by Pope Francis have been a still, small truth ringing loudly in my ears along my journey home:

“Like its members, the Church can be an instrument of God’s mercy because it needs that mercy. Just as none of us should reject other people because of their sins and failures but help them be what they are meant to be, Christ’s followers should love and listen to the Church, build her up, take responsibility for her, including her sins and failures.

At those moments when the Church shows herself to be weak and sinful, let us help her get up again; let us not condemn or disdain her, but care for her like our own mother.”

To reconcile the Church, we must first be willing to listen… truly listen and acknowledge the hurt that has been caused. We must ask sincerely for forgiveness in the ways we fall short at showing love and then humbly begin our work again to uphold the dignity of every person we encounter, no matter what their political or social ideology.

While we may turn away from God, God never stops calling us back to him. In my seeking for truth, it has become clear that the Truth Himself has actually been the one seeking me all along. We must continue to be willing to listen to his gentle nudging. He will do the rest.

Blessings to each of you this Easter Sunday.