Why Stories of Catholic Conversion Matter
If someone is “Christian”—saved through faith in Christ—what does it matter whether they’re Catholic or Protestant?
Of course, as a Catholic, I want my Protestant friends to experience the reverence and awe I encounter when worshiping God at Mass. The Protestant churches I grew up in had charismatic pastors who taught the Bible and helped connect me to the Holy Spirit. Many Sundays I’d walk out the doors feeling as if the pastor had designed the message just for me. Man—that’s exactly what I needed to hear. Over time, I realized that while this was good—being taught by someone filled with the Holy Spirit—it wasn’t worship. I came to understand that true worship, as God intended it, is only found in the Catholic and Orthodox Churches.
I also love that, as a Catholic, I’m a link in a historical chain that goes all the way back to Christ—not to some guy in New York… or California. I’m not being tongue-in-cheek; this mattered to me. “Yeah,” you say, “but these are just preferences, Ben. Give us something real.”
Okay. The Catholic Church has all seven Sacraments—especially the most intimate form of worship of Christ there is: the Eucharist. I’ll concede that this is something you can’t fully know or experience unless you’re a devout Catholic—and, honestly, even many Catholics don’t grasp it—so now what?
I’ll just come out with it. All Christians agree that Christ came to earth to pay the price for our sins, but He also came to establish His earthly Church—one Church. I now know that Church to be the Catholic Church. It’s the only Church that can credibly claim to have been founded by Jesus Christ and back it up with history. It’s also the only Church that does everything the Bible says a Church should do. I know this to be the absolute truth—and the truth matters.
But the truth also hurts. Trust me, I know. If you weren’t raised with the understanding that the Catholic church is the one true church, coming to this conclusion later in life can be mind-bendingly difficult.
I prayed about and studied the Catholic Church and her teachings for ten years before converting. During that time, I went through five stages of conversion.
1. You hear, read, or feel something that causes you to look at the Catholic Church. Whether good or bad, the new information prompts investigation. You receive a “felt need” from the Holy Spirit. Without this prompting, there’s no desire to change your way of thinking.
2. You begin to understand Catholicism from Catholic sources, realizing that if you want the truth about the Catholic Church, you have to talk to Catholics who actually know their faith. If you previously held a negative view, some of it softens—but there’s still not a snowball’s chance in hell that you’ll ever convert. When your identity is tied to your faith, that’s good. But when you lack humility and refuse to challenge or explore your beliefs, it can dull your faith.
3. As more questions are answered, you start weighing the enormous life changes conversion would require. If you’re new to God entirely, He asks you to change your ways and follow Him. If you’re a Protestant like I was, you realize you may be putting business relationships and personal friendships at risk. Imagine being a Protestant pastor or working in Protestant ministry—the fear of change is very real.
4. You come to understand that God’s will for you is to convert to Catholicism. You convert, but quietly, because you’re terrified of what friends and colleagues might think. There’s so much misunderstanding within Protestantism about what Catholicism actually is. You also know it was the Holy Spirit—not just logic or Bible study—that led you here. How could they possibly understand?
This stage is both sweet and bitter. Very few Protestant friends will humbly engage in fruitful discussion. You’ll often hear, “As long as we love the same God, it doesn’t matter what church we worship in.” How does a Catholic calmly and humbly respond, “No—it does matter”? You want to shout, “Everything the Catholic Church teaches comes straight from the Bible—why don’t you see it?” You may not become divisive and angry like I did—picking fights, throwing Bible darts, thumping people over the head with your seven-book-heavier Bible—but you will receive pushback.
5. In the final stage, God renews your heart and changes your mind. Your approach to evangelization shifts from “proving others wrong and yourself right” to simply living as a Catholic. Weekly—sometimes daily—Mass. Confession. Reconciliation. The Eucharist. Prayers for intercession. In short, you receive the graces of God available only in the Catholic Church. Instead of seeking people out to “convert,” they begin coming to you.
You still need to know Church teaching and history when questions arise, but you come to realize it’s the Holy Spirit who calls and converts souls. He’s the one who places the “felt need” for change in a person’s heart. It’s not up to you—and with that realization comes overwhelming peace.
My cradle-Catholic friends like to joke, “Nobody knows the Catholic faith like a convert.” You don’t flip your entire life upside down unless you’re certain that’s what God is calling you to do. When I was somewhere in the five stages of conversion, I received great consolation talking with other Catholic converts—and with cradle Catholics who truly know the faith. They were normal, reasonable, rational people: men and women with strong families, well-run businesses, and a deep, authentic faith in God.
Meeting other converts and learning about Catholics throughout history—the saints, for Pete’s sake—strengthened my certainty in Catholicism. When people considering Catholicism hear from someone they respect—someone they know to be a devoted follower of Christ—it gives them powerful encouragement to keep exploring, despite the many fears that come with conversion.
That’s why Catholic conversion stories matter.
Did your conversion look different than mine? I’d love to hear about it.