By Ashleigh Holmes.
This Easter will be particularly special for me as it will mark one year since my return to the Catholic Church. This time last year I was in a state of spiritual turmoil as I was feeling pulled towards the church but my life was well established in a different direction.
I was baptised into the Catholic Church as a baby, received my Sacraments and attended Catholic schools. I was an altar server in Primary School and sang at Mass in High School. For the most part growing up I loved the church. So why did I leave? I moved out of home and the ways of the world looked attractive to me. Despite my Catholic upbringing I was not well formed in the faith.
My husband and I married and we had two children. As my upbringing in the church had been a positive one, I thought perhaps the question of church was worth revisiting. My husband wasn’t drawn to the Catholic Church so being pragmatic and naively thinking that it didn’t really matter which church we went to so long as it was Christian, we started checking out the different churches in our area. We went to the Presbyterian Church where we were welcomed and a few months later both my husband and myself had conversion experiences where we claimed Christ as our Lord and Saviour and determined to follow him wherever he led us.
Well, they say God has a sense of humour. Unbeknownst to me Christ was leading me back to the Catholic Church. My time in the Presbyterian Church was wonderful. I made beautiful friends who love Jesus and love the Bible. Before going to the Presbyterian Church I had always wanted to have a good understanding of the Bible but it was a mystery to me. Now the Bible was like an old friend and at the same time exciting, with new treasures to discover within its pages. I was content, I thought I had life sorted. I had a wonderful husband, eight beautiful children, fabulous friends, and a vibrant church community that my family loved being a part of.
My Grandfather passed away. He had converted to Catholicism as an adult primarily so he could marry my Grandmother. He had turned away from the church a long time ago and had become a passionate atheist. However, in the weeks before he passed, my Dad asked him if he would like the priest to visit him. He said “Yes.” My grandfather had the Anointing of the Sick. My Dad was so relieved. I was confused and a little angry. I thought “Just because a priest comes and says a few words somehow everything is going to be okay?” but also I couldn’t shake this feeling of jealousy. I understood that if the Eucharist really is the body of Christ then my Grandfather was closer to Jesus than I was and that didn’t seem fair to me. I also wondered if I was dying, would I want the priest to come? To my surprise I realised the answer was “Yes,” and the idea of waiting that long to be reunited with Christ was unbearable.
Around this time we attended several baptisms in the Catholic Church. My children asked me questions about the difference between Catholic baptism and baptism in the Presbyterian Church. I did my best to answer their questions but I thought it would be good to educate myself on what the Catholic Church teaches so I could explain it accurately. I came across “The Catechism in a Year” Podcast by Fr Mike Schmitz.
I was blown away by the beauty and richness of this Sacrament. Now being a bit of a perfectionist, I thought it was a good idea to go back to Episode 1 of the Catechism and really get a handle on Catholic doctrine. It was like a magnet, I couldn’t stop listening. Whilst others were bingeing on Netflix and Insta I was bingeing on the Catechism of the Catholic Church! As the New Year rolled around I thought “Why not start the “Bible in a Year” podcast as well.”
I was beginning to understand God’s plan in a new way. His plan was not to give us the Bible and then leave us to it, but to establish a church guided by the Holy Spirit that would be a beacon for every generation “and the Gates of Hell will not overcome it.” At this point I was feeling like a Catholic on the inside and a Protestant on the outside. It was painful. I didn’t want to protest against the church that Christ had instituted and dearly loved. I didn’t want to be given a cracker and some juice every second month and reminded to remember what Jesus had done for me, I wanted the “Bread of Life” as often as possible. For the first time I realised that I was starving and I knew where I could go to be satisfied.
