Journeys Home (25 page)

Soon after this dinner, we began to meet with five other families
of like mind. In June, I was ordained to the transitional diaconate,
and within a few months, others had joined with us to become the
original founding members of the Church of the Resurrection. On
September 15 in the same Mass, we were received as a mission parish,
and I was ordained a priest.

Each year for a couple of years, the membership of Resurrection
doubled until we leveled off. We grew together. Everyone participated
according to his or her gifts, and I grew to be the pastor and
father of a family knit together in love. As was the developing
custom of the Charismatic Episcopal Church, my wife and I planned
to be at Resurrection for life.

When we left in 1999, the profound depth of grief and loss was
overwhelming. Those we were closest to in the parish and diocese
seemed to cut us off. Perhaps they felt hurt, abandoned, or betrayed.

For many, conversion has some very real costs. Peter and Jesus
remind us of this truth. Weeping on my bed from my personal loss,
I said to Cindy (who sat graciously beside me), "No one will ever
know what this was like."

But people do know. My personal conversion contains many common
elements that others have experienced. In the same way, I suspect
that my personal reasons for coming into full communion with the
Catholic Church will speak to some of those courageous people
who are going through this same process.

The most difficult step in my journey, however, was meeting in
that cafe to inform my CEC bishop of my decision to become Catholic.
He was sympathetic; he even admitted that he would become Catholic,
too, but he knew that canon law would prevent him being the pastor
of a church. He was a pastor and could not give it up.

The thought of not being a priest was devastating to me, too.
I suggested that only he could know how tough my decision really
was. Maybe they would not let me be a priest, but they would allow
me to be obedient.

He had another concern as well. I could appreciate the rich treasure
of the Catholic faith and leave so much to gain it, he said, but
other Catholics would not have this same appreciation of their
faith. They would walk out of the church from the Communion line,
he said; they would not even wait for the blessing.

When I finally came into the Catholic Church, I watched after
Mass on Sundays. Some would take Communion and leave immediately,
but most returned to their pew and most of these knelt to pray
until Communion ended. Most Catholics who attend church do appreciate
their faith.

My journey of truth will always continue, but my search for the
true Church has brought me home. Cindy and I have never looked
back. Many of our former parishioners and diocesan friends have
been restored to us. Some have even joined us in full communion
with the Catholic Church. Remarkably, the priest who replaced
me at Resurrection has become Catholic, too!

We did not give up any of our faith. I am still a Bible Christian.
I am still a Charismatic. Ultimately, I kept what I had and added
to it the fullness of the Catholic faith that has been guarded
faithfully, in an unbroken line, from the time of the Apostles
and Jesus Christ. And I have learned, grown, and been enriched
from the faith walk and wisdom of many saints who have loved Jesus
with all their hearts, minds, and strength for almost two thousand
years.

Father Steven D. Anderson and his wife, Cindy, live in Grand Blanc,
Michigan, where he ministers at Holy Family Catholic Church.

former Assemblies of God missionary

EARLY YEARS

JOINING THE LUTHERANS

AFRICA AND HOME AGAIN

EWTN AND CHNI

OBJECTIONS OVERCOME

PROBLEMS WITH PROTESTANT TEACHING AND PRACTICE

COMING HOME

Ruth and I were born into Protestant families, raised in the church,
and "saved" at an early age. Eventually I was ordained as an Assembly
of God minister, and we served eight years in missions, five of
them in Africa. Our desire has been to please God in all we do.

We have sought Him and served Him wholeheartedly. We never dreamed,
therefore, that there would come a time when we would decide that
we could no longer continue in the Protestant ministry or even
remain Protestant. Even though we were a mere three years short
of retirement, we decided to give up our ministry and means of
support to join the Catholic Church.

Why would anyone in his right mind want to do that? Let me try
to show you that what we did was God's will for us. My hope is
that it will spark your interest to study these matters further.

I should have been born in a log cabin, but it burned down the
year before I was born. My parents were small-time dairy farmers
with lots of kids. The ninth of eleven, I was born on July 9,
1940. By age fourteen, I was "saved," baptized, and confirmed.
I graduated from high school in May 1958. My career goal was to
enter the ministry in our Evangelical United Brethren denomination.
I enrolled at Wisconsin State College in Eau Claire because I
heard they had a good pre-seminary course, and it was close to
home.

In my second year of college I met Ruth. She was American Baptist,
a seriously committed Christian, who wanted a good Christian husband.
We fell madly in love and were married on May 28, 1960. Before
I proposed, however, she had to agree to go with me wherever God
would lead us, even to Africa if necessary. She gladly agreed.
Forty-two years later, she still agrees.

In June 1968, I graduated with a Master of Science in social work.
I had specialized in administration and supervision, and I worked
in those kinds of positions for many years thereafter. The first
of these was in Milwaukee. There we found our EUB pastor from
six years earlier. He had transferred to a small United Methodist
church near our new home. The EUB had merged with the Methodist
Church to become the United Methodist denomination.

In June 1971, we moved back to our home area, where I took a social
work supervisor position in a rural county. We wanted to get our
three children away from the evils of the big city. I kept that
job for nine years, and we raised our children on a farm.

A neighbor lady invited us to the nearby Lutheran church, and
we became active members. We liked the pastor and the people.
One Sunday afternoon, our three children were baptized. We thought
Marie was still too young, but since Lutherans baptize infants,
we went along with it. But spiritually, I still didn't know what
to believe. The Lutherans had a liturgy, which was a new experience
for us. They read their prayers. We had been taught that prayer
should be spontaneous, but their doctrine was biblical enough
to satisfy our Evangelical beliefs about Jesus.

Another event, three years later, would seal the deal. Our Lutheran
pastor became Spirit-filled and invited another Lutheran to preach
in our church. He taught about the Holy Spirit and prayed for
people to be baptized in the Spirit.

This was all new to us. But it was in our own Lutheran church,
all very orderly, and nothing like what we had heard about Pentecostals.
On the last night, Ruth, our teenage son, and I went up for prayer
and received the Holy Spirit. It was an event that changed our
lives.

After becoming Spirit-filled, my old call to the ministry resurfaced.
Could it be we were still supposed to be in ministry? I explored
seminaries.

My Lutheran pastor gave me information about Luther Seminary in
St. Paul, Minnesota. I considered the United Methodist seminary.
I visited a Pentecostal school in Anaheim. I thought about Oral
Roberts University. None of these seemed right.

In June 1980, Ruth and I visited a Bible school in Tulsa and attended
its Sunday night service. That night we became convinced that
God had called us to missions and that we should attend the school's
two-year missions program. Ruth and I made an application the
next morning and a few weeks later, we were accepted. We resigned
our jobs and community positions, listed our farm for sale, rented
a Ryder truck, and moved to Tulsa.

So now where should we go to church? What could be a reliable
guide? We decided that a church pastored by a graduate of our
Bible school would be a safe bet.

We found one and started attending. It wasn't quiet and orderly
like our Lutheran church, but they had the Spirit. They were independent
and answered to no one. We soon left for another congregation
and then another, all the while searching for truth and authority.

Some fellow graduates of the Bible school and members of our church
were moving to Hawaii to plant a Faith Church. We had heard that
Hawaii, despite its great attraction for tourists, was a very
dark place spiritually. They asked us to join them.

So in January 1983, we made our first visit to Hawaii. The couple
we followed there made an attempt to start a church, gave up in
a few weeks, and soon returned to Oklahoma and got divorced. We
were finally cured of independent churches.

I was convinced we needed a church that had some structure and
a firm belief system. It could not be everyone making up his own
belief system. I thought an older, established church would be
better, but not so old that it had grown cold and unspiritual.
We started attending the First Assembly of God. The Assemblies
of God denomination (AOG) had a history of more than seventy years,
a long time in Pentecostal circles.

Over the years, I engaged in many ministries at First Assembly
of God, including prison ministry, Communion deacon (the big task
here was to fill eighteen hundred little cups with grape juice
once a month), van deacon, counselor, teacher, and board member.
After our children left home, we spent most of our non-working
time in these various ministries.

In 1992, I decided to apply for licensing by the Assemblies of
God. The denomination accepted my Bible school courses, much to
my surprise. I had to complete a couple of correspondence courses,
but in April 1993, I was licensed to preach.

In early 1994, our interim pastor asked me to teach for three
months at an AOG Bible school in Uganda. When we returned home,
we were asked if we would return for a two-year term. We agreed,
and in December 1994, we left our jobs, sold our condo and car,
gave away many things, and moved to Uganda.

In Uganda, we were troubled by the great diversity of Christian
teachings. Ugandans were struggling so hard to recover from years
of civil war. Instead of working together, each Protestant group
was promoting its own particular brand of the Gospel.

Some of my Bible school students were United Methodist, and they
seemed just as holy as the Assembly of God students. Yet the two
church groups could not work together. In April 1999, we felt
we had done what we could in Uganda and moved back to First Assembly
in Hawaii. The Hawaii District of the Assemblies of God ordained
me at its district council the week we arrived. It could have
been done a few years earlier, but I was out of the country.

During one of our annual visits to America, in March 1998, I began
to read stories by converts to the Catholic Church. Our Lutheran
son had joined the Catholic Church after marrying a Catholic.
He had studied long and hard before converting, and I was still
looking for something more than I was finding in the Assemblies,
so I was open to learning why he had switched churches.

We attended Mass with him and his wife. While I knew nothing about
Catholic doctrine, other than the usual Protestant misconceptions
I had picked up, I was drawn to the liturgy. I thought it was
beautiful and full of God.

One of the books in my son's large collection was
Born Fundamentalist,
Born Again Catholic
by David B. Currie. It was the story of the
author's spiritual journey to the Catholic Church. He carefully
explained the doctrines and why he agreed with them. This book
unsettled me. Currie's spiritual background was similar to mine
in many ways.

On my next visit, I read
Rome Sweet Home
by Scott and Kimberly
Hahn. I had never heard of them before, but their book affected
me.
Surprised by Truth,
edited by Patrick Madrid, really did surprise
me as I read many conversion stories by people who I thought should
have known better. But I was beginning to have serious doubts
about my AOG faith. Nevertheless, I faithfully continued in my
ministry.

When we returned to the States in 1999, we once again had television
and even cable. I discovered Eternal Word Television Network (EWTN).
Mother Angelica, founder of EWTN, impressed even Ruth, who until
this time had ignored my inquiry into the Church. On EWTN, I also
discovered the
Journey Home
program, where Marcus Grodi, a former
Protestant pastor and now Catholic convert, interviews other converts.

The first time I saw this program, I knew in my spirit that my
Protestantism was in trouble. I don't remember who his guest was,
but those guys had something I needed. I discovered that the Internet
had mushroomed while we were in Africa, and I found the website
of the Coming Home Network International, an organization established
to aid Protestant clergy and laity in their exploration of the
Catholic Church.

Posted on its website are many conversion stories, and I read
them all. Another feature was an email discussion group, and I
soon joined it. After lurking for a while, I dared to ask some
questions, but I used my middle name. I wasn't ready to have my
church know about my inquiry, and I didn't know who might be reading
the list.

One of my first questions to the group was about praying to the
saints. I had been taught that we cannot, and should not, talk
to the earthly dead who are now living in heaven. God is against
that. And besides, how could they hear us? There is no telephone
hookup.