Letter to a Convert's Dad

It would be presumptuous of me to say I know how you feel, now that your son has made the transition from the Protestant tradition of his birth and family to a strange and new home in the Catholic Church. But I can say I’ve seen this responce before and I know that the pain you fell is deep, real, and confusing. I’ve been at this business of accompanying converts long enough to know that families sometimes have a difficult time understanding why anyone would do this.

Perhaps I can help.

I have known and taught your son, Joe, for months now. He came to explore a faith tradition that was unfamiliar to him, one that he had been discouraged from even exploring, so low was the seeming regard in which it was held, but one that, even so, called to him, persistently, in a way he could not ignore.

Over the ensuing months, he studied and questioned. His philosophy training brought him to me by a particular door. By the time he arrived, he had pretty well read himself into the Church in his head. What he was seeking was something to engage his heart to assure him that his head was right. It takes both heart and head in the relationship with Jesus. I am often surprised at the various ways people find themselves attracted to the Church. Some come by way of music, some art, some liturgy. Some, like your son, come by sheer dint of intellect and reason. God uses, I think, the threads we leave dangling for Him to grasp to draw us into relationship with Him. And then He weaves them together with those of others to bring us to fellowship in Him.

Joe lost nothing of all the great good he learned at your feet and in your home. I have come to know a man for whom a relationship to Jesus is clear and immediate and intensely personal; a man steeped in scripture and in prayer and service. And I know a man who, in spite of the fact that it would cause his parents pain, felt compelled to explore the Catholic faith and ultimately, to come into full communion with Rome. As high as the cost of this journey has been for you, it seems it was just as high for Joe.

He agonized over how his decision—which became increasingly clear as the months went on—would hurt you. We had many long, deep conversations about how he could do what his heart—and God—called him to do and still keep the commandment of honoring you and his mother. Every time he confronted the question, he came to the same conclusion: he was called to full communion with Rome, regardless of the cost. And every time, he was just as determined to care for and love you and his mother even as he did so. He just wasn’t sure how. Ultimately that has to be worked out in time and love and it takes both of you to do it.

I’ve seen a lot of folks go through this, but none with more awareness and more pain than your son. It put a human face of Jesus’ words that He came not to bring peace but division. It’s just particularly painful when that division comes within not only a family but also the Body of Christ.

I’ve been on both sides of the process myself.

I remember the shock my mother expressed when I told her I was leaving the faith I had been raised in to find another path to God. I remember how I felt when my daughter did the same thing. I hope my experience can be of some help to you.

One of the hardest things for a parent, at least in my experience, is watching your children take all the good things you have passed on to them and make something different out of it: something unique to themselves and so very distant from what a loving parent imagined they might do. Sometimes I think that is the real test of parenthood: whether we can stand by and watch that and trust, that in the goodness and grace of God, our children will find their own ways home. And it is, I think, also the role of parenthood: forming our children and letting them go, for they are ours only on loan and their lives are theirs to live.

My parents did that for me, and I trust that I have done that for my daughter as well. They trusted me not to be completely crazy and they trusted God with me. I have an advantage over them—I handed my daughter over, not only to God, but to her other Jewish mother—Mary. The intercession of those who love you, I find, is critical in finding the way home. Please pray for Joe without agenda, other than that he know and love God as God intends. He needs your prayers as much as he values them

Joe hasn't made quite the leap I did. He has simply found another way best to serve Jesus and His Church, albeit in a way of which you are inclined not to approve. I suppose that brings up a great many questions in your own mind, not the least of which might be your relationship to Catholic Christians as a whole. I would pose a question to you: would you be this upset if Joe had left your particular Protestant denomination to join another one? If not, perhaps that gives you some insight into what’s happening. In my experience, questions are often more important and more revealing of God and His plans than are the answers.

As for Joe, remember, we are a Body in Christ. Not in just the symbolic sense, but in a very real, present, and mystical way. Just as the journey of the feet becomes the journey of the eyes, so the journey of one part of the Mystical Body of Christ becomes the journey of all, if we are but aware and take the time each to enter into the other’s world. Joe’s journey, one you did not want and would not have asked for, has now become in some way, forever linked to yours. That takes some getting used to but it can be a wonderful, enriching, sometimes humbling experience, even if your community of believers differs from his.

So please know that Joe loves you and is ever and eternally grateful for the strong foundation of faith that you gave him. He will never lose that and will always rely on it. He will always be grateful for it. He has lost nothing and gained much. He loves Jesus and His Church and is so passionate about it, he’s willing to risk something he holds dearer than almost anything else—your approval-- to follow Him, as he knows he is called. I hope that, in time, you will be able to enjoy the walk with him. And of course, he loves you.

After all, the journey, wherever and however it takes us, and with whomever we travel, is a gift.