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I was born a Catholic. Although I did not learn the catechism until I entered seminary, both my parents and Catholic teachers taught me what they could. I listened to them and tried to put into practice what I was taught.
I am grateful for having parents who cared about what I did and who I hung out with. I am also grateful for having been sent to a publicly-funded Catholic elementary school (in Canada) where I would often see my teacher at Mass on Sunday mornings.
There were many things, events, and persons that led me away from the Church. Really though, it was my decision to walk away from the Church God had given me.
But this article is not about my leaving the Church. It is about my return to it, about who and what drew me back, and why I continue to be a member of the Holy Roman Catholic Church.
The year was 2003 and I had not been to a Sunday Mass in 12 years. My cousin invited me to his daughter’s First Communion, which was to take place at a Sunday Mass inside a Catholic church.
I resisted going because I did not want to go back into a church, so I told my cousin, “Look Matt, I am not Catholic; I don’t go to church anymore.”
His response is one I will never forget. He said, “I don’t care about that. It is my daughter’s First Communion, and we are having a gathering at our house which I would like to invite you to. We would love to have you at the Mass, but I leave that up to you.”
Matt was leaving me free, just as God does.
I had heard a lot about Matt’s parish: that the people were alive with the Holy Spirit and that it was a very active parish. He had told me on many occasions that I needed to come and check out the people, the sights, and the sounds of this community that was new and welcoming.
I decided to go to the First Communion, and I witnessed things that I had never seen or dreamed of seeing inside a Catholic church. For example, people were waving their hands while singing the Our Father, and instead of hymn books, the words of the songs were projected on two walls. And everyone was singing!
After seeing this parish and its people for myself and checking the sign on the door to make sure that this actually was a Roman Catholic parish, I decided to come back the next week. This led to my going the week after that, and the week after that. Eventually I became a member of the parish.
I became involved in various groups and movements, such as Cursillo, Theology on Tap, and the Alpha Program.
I also went to Mass elsewhere during the week and twice on Sundays (which I had never done before). Plus I went to adoration of the Blessed Sacrament whenever I could. (That parish offered perpetual adoration).
I did all this while I was working two jobs—one of them full-time and the other, part-time.
For the first time in a very long time, I felt alive, and I was hungry for information about my Catholic faith. I went to confession on a regular basis, and for the first time, I got myself a spiritual director.
A lot was happening in, through, and around me in a very short period of time. It felt like a whirlwind at times, but the ground of my soul was so ripe for planting. (Actually, though I didn’t realize it, I had been reading my way back to Catholicism even before that First Communion.)
I was feeling happy for the first time in thirteen years, since I had graduated from high school.
So why did I go back to the Church after that First Communion of my cousin’s daughter? It wasn’t really the people of that Spirit-filled parish or their form of worship, though these had attracted me. It was the Eucharist. And I knew that I could not receive this beautiful gift anywhere else besides Heaven.
That was why I went to Mass during the week on a regular basis for the first time in my life, and that is why I keep going back and why I need to attend Mass every day.
