Journeys Home (14 page)

My understanding of the New Testament would not lead me to invent
the Catholic faith, but my understanding now would lead me to
embrace it as true to the Scriptures much more than it would lead
me to embrace the Evangelical Protestant faith. Moreover, I knew
that, before God, I needed to enter the Catholic Church, which
I did that Easter of 1995. I had found the Church called "home."

I'm still a bit awkward. I feel as if I've embarked on an enormous
ocean and don't quite know how to navigate yet. But I know it's
true. It is not doctrinal differences only that separate Evangelical
Protestants from Catholics; it's a whole different way of seeing.
My entire world has opened up. All of creation has taken on new
meaning for me.

I have embraced all of the Church's teachings because I have embraced
that Church which Christ Himself established two thousand years
ago. It is that Church, founded on the Apostles and prophets,
the mustard seed grown into a tree, that has preserved and passed
on the faith once delivered to the saints; that has stood the
test of time through every age, every heresy, confusion, division,
and sin. And it is that Church that will stand to the end of time,
because it is truly His Body and, in its essence, therefore, holy,
immutable, and eternal.

Moreover, gift upon gift, it is the Church that has restored to
me the reverence, the majesty, the awe I once knew as a child
in the synagogue. I said to David at one point, "I feel like I
have God back." How strange a statement from one who came to know
Him so wonderfully and truly through Evangelical Protestant faith.
Yet, in the freedom and familiarity of the Evangelical expression
and worship, a sense of the transcendence of God is often lost.
It is good to bow before Him now.

And yet I have come to see that God, who is transcendent, has
given us in His Son and in His Body, the Church, more of Himself
than I could ever have imagined -- not more than Christ, not other
than Christ, but the whole of Christ. Oh, the depth of the riches
both of the wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are
His judgments and unfathomable His ways! (Rom 11:33)

As long as God gives me breath, I want to tell the world of such
a Savior and of His one, holy, Catholic, and apostolic Church.

Sister Rosalind Moss is foundress of the Daughters of Mary, Mother
of Our Hope, in Tulsa, Oklahoma.

former United Methodist minister

PRAYING FOR REGAN

ENCOUNTERING MARY

DRAWN TO THE CATHOLIC CHURCH

ASKING FOR A SIGN

My father is a retired Assemblies of God pastor. My parents had
a deep and abiding love for Jesus Christ. Their lives expressed
who Christ was. I vividly remember being awakened in the middle
of the night by the sound of their praying -- praying for each
of the people in their congregation.

Although my parents never spoke in derogatory terms about anyone,
including Catholics, many of the ministers I came in contact with
were not so generous. I heard more than one preacher expound on
the evils of the Catholic faith. For many, it was taken for granted
that the Catholic Church was the "Great Whore of Babylon" (see
Rev 17), and the pope was the Antichrist.

I was in my thirties and an ordained United Methodist minister
before I met a nun for the first time, Sister Monica Marie. My
wife, Joetta had taught with her at Ursuline Academy in Dallas,
Texas. It was through Sister Monica Marie that Joetta experienced
a dynamic encounter with the Holy Spirit.

To my surprise, I discovered that this sister was truly a woman
of God. My heart was warmed just by being in her presence. She
was totally the opposite of all I had envisioned nuns to be.

My first contact with a priest was in 1996. While working on my
doctorate at Oral Roberts University, I met Father Amalor Vima
from India. As classmates, we spent a good deal of time together
and became close friends. It was in this environment that something
happened that would revolutionize my life forever.

During a reflective moment in one of our sessions, Selmar Quayo,
a Methodist bishop from Brazil, stood and said: "In my country,
as a Protestant, I am in the minority. Unfortunately, there is
much animosity between our church and the Catholic Church. Many
of my people are filled with bitterness toward all Catholics.
Yet here, Father Vima is in the minority, and I've seen nothing
from his life but the love of Jesus Christ."

With tears running down his face, he said, "Father Vima, I want
you to forgive me."

I watched as these two men of God embraced. There was not a dry
eye in the room. In that one brief moment, my mind began to envision
a new possibility: Protestants and Catholics all over the world
coming together, embracing in love, and dropping to their knees
in prayer.

In this simple act, Selmar Quayo had challenged all of us to become
ministers of reconciliation. My thoughts raced.
Imagine what the
Holy Spirit could do if Catholics and Protestants really were
one.

The words of Jesus flashed through my mind: "So if you are offering
your gift at the altar, and there remember that your brother has
something against you, leave your gift there before the altar
and go; first be reconciled to your brother, and then come and
offer your gift" (Mt 5:23 - 24).

As I watched the scene unfold, I could almost hear Jesus praying:
"That they may all be one, Father ... that the world may believe
that you have sent Me" (Jn 17:21). I knew at that moment that
I must become a minister of reconciliation.

Years earlier, Joetta and I had ministered at a Southern Baptist
church in Tulsa, Oklahoma. After the service, a woman came up
to her and asked if she would pray for her daughter, Regan. She
did not want, however, to divulge the specific prayer need. Joetta
assured her that it wasn't necessary to know the need because
the Holy Spirit would intercede for Regan. For the next year,
Joetta prayed faithfully for a young lady she had never met.

At that time, Joetta was working as a technical writer for Thrifty
Rent-a-Car. One day, her boss informed her that they had hired
a new software trainer and were going to put her in the cubicle
across from Joetta's. They asked Joetta to make her feel welcome
and to show her around.

When the new trainer arrived, she introduced herself as Regan.
To Joetta's surprise, here stood the young lady she had been praying
for all those months! God was definitely up to something.

Joetta and Regan worked as associates over the next seven years.
Although they never socialized outside of the workplace, they
began to develop a close relationship. One day in 1995, Regan
shared that she and her husband were having problems in their
marriage.

Kelvin was a Catholic, and Regan was a Southern Baptist. For several
years, Regan had attended the Catholic Church off and on with
Kelvin, and although he did not feel comfortable in the Baptist
Church, he would attend with Regan on special occasions. This
arrangement worked until they had children and realized how strongly
they both felt about how their children should be raised.

To Regan's chagrin, Kelvin was adamant about baptizing and raising
their children in the Catholic Church. They were at an impasse
when Regan came to Joetta for advice.

Joetta told Regan that a house divided cannot stand and that it
was essential that they be in church together. Joetta suggested
that if her husband would not go to church with her, she should
go to church with him. God would bless their marriage if Regan
would submit to the spiritual authority of her husband.

Joetta informed Regan of some classes held by the Catholic Church
that she could attend, without obligation, to learn about the
Catholic faith. Joetta said, "If I were you, I would want to know
what my children were going to be taught so that I could counter
any incorrect teaching." For Regan's peace of mind, Joetta added,
"You go through the program, bring all the material to me, and
I'll give it to Larry so that he can check it out and see if it
is scripturally sound."

I never paid any attention to the material Regan gave Joetta,
except for two things. One was a newspaper article by a Lutheran
journalist discussing Marian apparitions. The author of the article
had spoken at Regan's church and told how the Mother of God had
been appearing to six young children daily since 1981. Regan was
so intrigued that she read everything she could get her hands
on.

The second thing she gave us was a cassette by a woman who had
been miraculously healed at the same apparition site. This experience
had so affected this woman, a nominal Christian at best, that
she committed her life to serving Christ. I took these items and
started to throw them away. On a whim, I stuck them in a drawer
instead.

The week before May 25, 1996, Regan told Joetta that she was going
to a Marian conference in Wichita, Kansas. She was excited about
it because both the author of the article and the woman who had
been healed were featured speakers. Regan, however, was bothered
by a prayer she had received in the preconference material that
supposedly would be prayed at the conference. "I would like,"
she told Joetta, "for you and Larry to look it over and see what
you think."

As Joetta read the prayer, all kinds of red flags went up. In
almost a state of panic, she brought the prayer to me. It was
the Consecration to the Immaculate Heart of Mary.

As I read the prayer, the hair on the back of my neck stood straight
up. "Immaculate Heart of Mary, I give to you my body and soul
..." I stopped in mid-sentence.

Rage filled my heart. "This prayer is demonic!" I said, "You don't
give your soul to anyone but Jesus. Tell Regan she can go to the
conference, but whatever she does, she must not pray that prayer."

Within three days, something deep within my spirit told me I had
made a terrible mistake. Remorse for what I had said flooded my
soul.

I decided to take a copy of the prayer to Father Vima. "I don't
understand this prayer," I said. "How in the world can you give
yourself to Mary in this way?"

With a twinkle in his eye, Father Vima gently said, "Larry, have
you ever held Joetta in your arms and said, 'I love you, I adore
you, I worship the ground you walk on'?"

"Yes," I cautiously replied.

"Have you looked lovingly into her eyes and assured her of your
complete love and devotion? Have you spoken words like, 'I am
completely yours now and forever'? 'All that I am and all that
I ever hope to be is yours'?"

I was beginning to get his point. "If the truth were known," I
admitted, "I've used those exact words."

"Catholics," he continued, "would never say of Mary, 'We adore
you.' We venerate her. We honor her. But, we would never say 'we
adore you' because adoration is reserved only for God. It is something
we give only to Jesus.

"We adore Him. He is the King of Kings and Lord of Lords, and
there is no one like Him. We believe that Mary, as the Mother
of God, loves and cares for us. What we're saying in this prayer
is, 'All of me I place in your hands, and I ask you to take me
to your son, Jesus.' Mary always points to Jesus."

As I listened to Father Vima, I began to realize how wrong I had
been. Two emotions flooded over me simultaneously: shame and joy.
Shame for my quick assessment, and joy at the possibilities that
were opening up.

I went home and found the Marian newspaper I had put in one of
my dresser drawers and began to read. As I read what Mary was
reported as saying, I was struck by how biblically based were
her messages: pray, repent, fast, commit your life to Christ.
This was obviously not the work of Satan.

I wondered aloud, "Could this really be the Mother of God?" If
it were, then what she said was important and worthy of our consideration.
One of her more frequent statements was somewhat puzzling: "Pray
the rosary every day." Joetta and I knew nothing about the rosary.
Perhaps it was time to discover what this prayer was all about.

As Regan was leaving for the Marian conference, Joetta gave her
some money to buy a rosary. Their relationship had become strained
and sometimes emotionally charged because of Mary. Joetta felt
that if she let Regan show her how to pray the rosary, it would
at least keep them in dialogue.

When Regan gave Joetta her rosary, she said, "What's great is
that the man who made this rosary lives just outside Tulsa, in
Claremore, Oklahoma. If there's ever a problem with the rosary,
it is guaranteed."

The more closely that Joetta looked at her rosary, the less she
liked the centerpiece. "It looks like an idol. I think I'll call
Two Hearts Rosaries and see if they'll exchange it for something
else."

"Come on out," the voice on the other end of the line said. "Bob's
work is guaranteed, and he will be happy to replace it with something
you like."

When we arrived, Bob's wife, Johanna, asked Joetta what was wrong
with the rosary. "It's the centerpiece," Joetta said. "I don't
like the centerpiece."

Johanna looked at her quizzically. "What about it don't you like?"

"Well, it looks too, you know, Catholic!"

"The rosary," Johanna said, smiling, "is Catholic!"

While Joetta looked at centerpieces, Bob was sharing with me what
had happened to them on a pilgrimage to an apparition site in
Europe. I yelled at Joetta, "Come in here and listen to this!
You won't believe this story!" These were the first Catholics
that we had ever spent any time with, other than Sister Monica
Marie and Father Vima.

Bob shared with us how God, through Mary, had transformed their
lives. As he told their story, tears rolled down his face. He
said he hadn't stopped crying since they returned from their pilgrimage.
In his words, his heart "just turned to mush."