Courtship
Her Side of the Pew
Growing up, I attended Catholic schools. All of my family and friends
were Catholic. So, when I began dating in high school I didn't give
the faith of my boyfriends much thought. As for marriage, I hoped
to find a Christian. Tim was one of the first Lutherans I had met,
let alone dated.
We met and began dating as freshmen in college. At the time I had
a poor understanding of my faith. I felt that there were more similarities
than differences between our denominations. We both believed in
the Trinity and in Jesus Christ. We could share some common prayers.
We both believed in the importance of church attendance and in raising
our children to be Christians. I wasn't sure if our denominations
mattered.
When my mother expressed her concern over Tim's faith I shared with
her that although Tim was Lutheran he had more of a relationship
with God than any of the Catholics I had dated. They were "Catholic"
in name only. Tim, however, took his faith seriously.
His Side of the Pew
I was baptized, raised, and confirmed in the Lutheran Church. Through
the example of two faithful parents I came to know and believe in
Jesus Christ, his mercy and redemption, and the power of prayer.
Little did I know where my relationship with Christ would lead,
and that my journey would take me someplace I had no intention of
going.
I grew up surrounded largely by Lutherans. Aside from an occasional
Catholic wedding, I was not exposed to Catholic traditions. I remember
finding the wedding Masses long, the kneeling odd, and the church
decorations ornate. Somehow, however, I acquired the usual prejudices
against Mary, the Pope, and confession.
At the age of ten, standing in a hallway on my first day in a new
grade school, I met the first Catholic I ever truly got to know.
Mark and I became best friends. At that age, religion wasn't something
he and I discussed, but as our relationship developed, we couldn't
help but recognize the differences in our lives. Mark and I spent
as much time as we could at one another's houses, and on a few occasions
attended one another's churches. One night while I was staying over
at his home I discovered a laminated prayer card from Italy sitting
on his nightstand. It was a prayer card of St. Joseph. I found the
artwork and the prayer to be quite beautiful. After telling him
how much I admired the card he gave it to me.
After high school, Mark, the prayer card, and I journeyed to the
same college. Here I met Mary. Mary and I lived on the same floor
of our dormitory and we became friends. We enjoyed going on walks
with one another, talking for hours on end, and simply being with
one another. By the end of our freshman year we began dating. In
college, as in high school, I used the St. Joseph prayer card in
times of special need. As an intercessor, Joseph never seemed to
fail.
Our courtship lasted four years. In Mary's junior year she decided
to live off-campus in the Newman Catholic Campus Ministry Center.
Partly in response to her, and partially out of my own desire to
learn more about my faith, I decided to live in the Lutheran Campus
Ministry Christus House. This opened us up to discussing more seriously
matters of faith. I was as committed in my Lutheranism as Mary was
in her Catholicism. As resident peer ministers we took part in joint
retreats, prayed together, and took part in Wednesday evening vespers.
I found the faith of Mary's family, their devotion, and traditions
particularly attractive.
They were truly a holy family and this showed in their faithful
attendance at Mass every Sunday and in how they prayed together.
I found myself drawn to Mary and her family. It was here that I
first gained a respect for Catholicism.
Engagement
Her Side
Prior to and following our engagement in November of 1988, Tim and
I began to talk
more seriously about our respective faiths. We took a premarital
inventory and went through a marriage preparation course in the
Catholic Church. Thankfully, Tim respected my desire to use Natural
Family Planning in our marriage. Tim did, however, have a hard time
understanding the Church's desire that couples raise the children
as Catholic. I worried about our children and wondered what church
they would attend. Not having any hard answers to that question
we trusted that God would show us His way.
His Side
As an inter-denominational couple we struggled with the questions
all such couples
struggle with. What church would we attend? How would we raise our
children? We found comfort in the similarities and often prayed
the Our Father. We wrestled with the issues, and occasionally we
argued. Slowly we began to realize that we could, if we remained
respectful, work through it.
During marriage preparation the priest asked us if we were willing
to raise our children Catholic. This promise was one I found difficult
to understand. I felt slighted, as though my denomination were somehow
inferior or less important. I thought to myself, "What if I
don't want to?" I certainly didn't want to say "yes"
to something I wasn't sure I wanted to do. Reluctantly, I agreed.
Although we didn't have all the issues worked out we were married
on July 8, 1989.
Marriage
Her Side
We were married on a hot Minnesota summer day. The service was a
mixed ceremony at St. Eloi's Catholic Church in my hometown of Ghent,
Minnesota. We decided not to have a Mass so that Tim's side would
not feel left out. Tim's Lutheran campus ministry pastor gave the
homily, while our priest co-celebrated.
I particularly remember the "Our Father." Tim and I were
gathered in a circle near the altar, holding hands with our wedding
party, the pastor, and priest. In a wonderful display of ecumenism
and unity, dear Father Bernie Schriner asked that everyone hold
hands, even across the aisles. A college friend sang a moving rendition
of the prayer. Toward the end, so overcome with emotion, Father
Schriner, shouted "Everyone!" and together everyone sang
"For thine is the kingdom…and the power… and the
glory… forever. Amen." There wasn't a dry eye in the place.
After our wedding, as before, we would sometimes attend our churches
separately. At
other times we would attend one or the other together, or sometimes
we would attend both churches each Sunday. We both found it difficult
to do this. Although I had been brought up in Catholic grade school
I didn't understand my faith well enough to be able to explain to
Tim why we had to go to both.
We continued to struggle with the issue and attended both churches
until sometime in 1993. We had just moved into our first home in
St. Paul and Tim found it more convenient to attend St. Columba
Catholic Church just three blocks away from our home.
Around this time I began praying for Tim's conversion. I didn't
know if it was the right thing to do and so I would utter a prayer
saying, "Lord, I don't know if this is your will. If Tim would
be converted that would be great. Whatever you think is best Lord."
His Side
It was so hot on the day we married one of my memories is of standing
in the Catholic
school's walk-in-freezer with my brother, Jeff, and my best man,
Mark, as a way to keep cool prior to the service. What struck me
about the day is that it would be one of the few times in our lives
when all those we cared about would be gathered together with us
to help us celebrate our love for one another.
After our marriage we struggled with Sunday services, vascillating
between attending
Mary's church, mine, or both. I found it frustrating to attend both
of our churches each Sunday morning. Often times the readings would
be the same. It was difficult to watch Mary receive the Eucharist
while I remained behind in the pew. I imagined how hard it would
be to watch my family go up for communion without me. The part during
Mass when the congregation says, "Lord, I am not worthy to
receive you, but only say the word and I shall be healed" both
irritated me and gave me hope. I felt that because I was Lutheran
I was not deemed "worthy" to receive that which Christ
offered for all. I took hope, however, in the fact that Christ would
"say the word and heal me."
Over time I grew disillusioned with the Lutheran parishes we attended.
The teachings of the church seemed to vary greatly depending on
the pastor. Mostly out of convenience, I started attending church
with Mary, and foregoing a Lutheran Sunday service, reserving Lutheran
services for only special occasions such as Christmas and Easter.
The real crack in my Lutheran shell came, however, early in the
1990's as the Evangelical Lutheran Church of America began changing
doctrine in regards to sexuality and abortion, and even began funding
pastors' abortions through their medical insurance coverage. As
you will later read, abortion was an issue I could not compromise
on. The Catholic Church taught that abortion was always wrong; whereas
the Lutheran Church had started teaching that is was an unfortunate,
but necessary fact of life for some women. Suddenly, being Lutheran
meant more to me than sitting in a pew. Ultimately, it meant believing
everything that the Lutheran Church believes and teaches.
Thus began my walk down the road leading elsewhere. I was certainly
attracted to Catholicism, but had many questions and doubts. What
I needed in my life was a fellow convert whom I could talk to. My
wife, Mary, and friend Mark had embraced Catholicism because they
were born into it. I desperately needed to talk to someone who had
come to it independently on their own. God provided exactly what
I needed, but in a most unusual way.
Conversion
Her Side
During the summer of 1993, while walking home from church one morning
Tim
expressed his potential desire to learn more about Catholicism.
I was both shocked and excited. At the same time I was cautious.
I didn't want to say too much. I kept my distance and feared getting
involved because I didn't want him to feel pressured. I knew that
if I pressured him he would resent it later on. I knew that it had
to be him, not me. I didn't want Tim converting because of me. I
offered to be his sponsor and he accepted, and I began praying more.
His Side
During 1992 and 1993 several events occurred simultaneously that
played a major role in my conversion. The first of these occurred
in August of 1992. My father showed up at our apartment unexpected
and alone. His very presence, unaccompanied by my mother, foretold
that something was not as it should be. Calmly, but tearfully, he
told me that I was not his son. Enlisted in the Air Force, my father
was stationed in Guam shortly after he and my mother were married.
He brought papers showing that he had been discharged from the Air
Force and returned home from Guam during the summer of 1967. When
he came home, my mother was five months pregnant. I was born in
September. Having grown up with divorced parents himself, he did
not want that for me, and so, honorably, he stayed with my mother
albeit with a great deal of pain and a lack of forgiveness.
To say that such news was shocking is an understatement. Learning
the truth turned my whole world upside down. It threw everything
I thought I knew into question. Growing up, I had never once questioned
that my parents were not who they said they were. While my younger
brother, Jeff, and I looked little alike, we simply thought that
he took after dad and I took after mom. Perhaps even more shocking
was to learn that my father had wanted me aborted. Thankfully, my
mother did not.
God, in His wisdom, can bring good, even from sin. Learning the
truth was a blessing. It helped to explain some of the misdirected
hostility I received from my father as a child. It helped to explain
why my younger brother and I were so different. But, I was also
blessed with undiscovered family.
Not only did I learn about the true identity of my father, but in
learning the truth I also
discovered two older half-brothers that I did not know existed.
Two months after learning the truth and coming to terms with who
I was, I placed a phone call to one of my half-brothers, Rich. We
spoke for a long time and agreed to meet at a nearby restaurant.
I was nervous about our meeting and did not know what to expect.
Walking into the restaurant that evening, there was no denying who
my brother was. We shared an undeniable resemblance. Meeting him
was like looking into a mirror and seeing myself thirteen years
later. As we sat eating our hamburgers and comparing stories the
waitress asked, "Are you guys brothers?" Here we were
meeting for the first time in our lives, and a stranger could see
the resemblance. We laughed, thinking, "If you only knew..."
In meeting Rich, a unique and inseparable bond was formed. We each
felt more
complete. Yet our bond is one that is more than genetic. Although
thirteen years separate us, we have different mothers, and we grew
up in different homes, our looks, voices, personalities, and mannerisms
are uncannily similar. We share the same values. We have similar
senses of humor. We both share a passion for motion pictures and
pizza. We also share some of those hard-to-believe separated at
birth, similarities. Our wives are both named Mary. Rich works for
the Archdiocese of Denver; I used to work for the Diocese of St.
Cloud, Minnesota. We are, in fact, more like each other than we
are like the brothers we each grew up with.
Most importantly, Rich had converted to Catholicism at age 18. In
Rich, I found
someone I could identify with. Like me, he had grown up Lutheran.
Sharing his story with me propelled me to learn more. The Holy Spirit
had placed him in my life exactly when I needed him.
Not long after meeting Rich, a couple of other events pointed me
toward the Church. The new Catechism of the Catholic Church was
published and we purchased a copy. I liked having it around because
it seemed to have answers for so many of my questions. It also impressed
upon me the validity of having all that the Church believes in a
single source. It gave meaning to the statement "One holy,
Catholic, and apostolic Church."
Also at about this time Mary's church, St. Columba's, started perpetual
eucharistic
adoration. Feeling the need to pray more, and not fully understanding
the meaning of the Blessed Sacrament I signed up to pray an hour
each Sunday evening.
Unfortunately, the RCIA program at our local church left something
to be desired. Had it been for RCIA alone, I never would have converted.
Thankfully, a friend offered to go with me to a 13-week Fundamentals
of Catholicism class at a nearby parish. The class was taught by
an orthodox, faithful, and humble priest capable of handling any
question put to him. It didn't take long for the Holy Spirit to
work within me. An audio tape by former Protestant minister Scott
Hahn, and the book "Surprised by Truth" further clinched
propelled me toward the decision I knew I had to make.
Incredibly, the issues I had long had contention with were no longer
issues. They had
melted away. I felt as if I had been infused with a complete knowledge
and acceptance of the Church and her teachings. I learned that asking
Mary or the Saints to pray for me was no different than asking a
friend to pray for me. I understood the Church's respect for the
sanctity of all human life and its teaching on the selfishness of
contraception. I came to know the differences in belief on the Eucharist,
and why non-Catholic reception of our Lord's Body and Blood implies
a wholeness that hasn't existed since the Reformation. I wanted
our family to be one spiritually. I was on the road to reconciliation.
Confession was my last major obstacle, more out of fear than any
lack of understanding. It was difficult to overcome the Lutheran
belief that we are "dung heaps covered with snow." My
teacher-priest compared the Lutheran concept of forgiveness to typing
with an old typewriter. If a sin were like a mistake, you could
white it out, but you would always know that the mistake had been
made. In contrast, he compared the Catholic idea of forgiveness
to using a computer. Confession, he described, was like hitting
the delete key. Once the key was struck, you would never be able
to tell the mistake had been made. If this were true, I felt that,
confession had to be the most powerful and freeing sacrament Christ
had given His Church.
On Ash Wednesday I was moved to go to confession. Compiling a laundry
list of 27
years worth of sin was a very humbling experience. The Cathedral
of St. Paul seemed an
appropriate place for the sacrament. There, I poured out the sins
of my life and was filled with the grace that accompanies the sacrament.
It wasn't a lightning bolt of grace, striking me suddenly, but rather
a gradual appreciation of the sacrament and its graces. After confession
things moved quickly.
Converting is a covenant one enters into with God. Like marriage
or parenthood, it is one of those things you can't really try out
beforehand. Once I decided to convert, there was no going back.
It was all or nothing. Either I accepted the Church and her teachings,
or I wasn't Catholic. There was no room to pick and choose. RCIA
and the Fundamentals classes were very much like marriage preparation
coursework and Engaged Encounter. There was only so much prayer,
reading, discussion, and discerning I could do. My intellect could
only take me so far. Eventually my heart had to follow. Through
adoration of the Blessed Sacrament I had acquired an unquenchable
hunger for the Eucharist. Truly, I was in love with God, and was
being moved to take a childlike leap. I did not have all the answers.
I did not know where it would lead. But I had to trust in God. As
the Church teaches, some things have been and will continue to be
a
mystery. This is what faith is.
I was unable to wait until Easter to convert. My heart had been
opened to the Truth. To not convert felt like denying God. On March
19, 1995, the feast day of St. Joseph, gathered with my friends
and family and Mary as my sponsor, I professed my belief in the
Holy Catholic Church and all her teachings, was confirmed, and accompanied
Mary to the Lord's table for the first time since we had begun dating
ten years earlier.
I am now able to look back on these remarkable events and can clearly
see the hand of
God in their timing. Had my stepfather not told me the truth, not
only would I still be living without knowledge of my father or my
brothers, but I probably never would have met my biological father
before his death, and I may not have come into the Church.
New Life
Her Side
It is a sad statement about my own Catholic education that I grew
up as ignorant about my faith as I did. In some ways I was not taught
my faith; in other ways I took my faith for granted. I made no effort
to actively learn more about it. I now realize how thankful I am
that Tim converted. The questions that Tim raised through his Fundamentals
class inspired me to learn more. His questions and reading taught
me things I never knew. Tim shared with me what he was learning
and he taught me the true differences between Lutheranism and Catholicism.
Tim's conversion was a great blessing to me. I am a more faithful
Catholic because of it.
I'm also thankful that the Spirit moved Tim to convert when he did.
I feel bad saying it, but his conversion did make things easier,
especially raising children. It is an incredible blessing to be
a family strong in one faith. It helps to make our decisions easier.
We feel more united in how we discipline and raise our children,
and we share common friends who feel strongly about their faith
as well.
His Side
Although I believed in Christ my faith did not hold the fullness
of Truth so beautifully
expressed in Christ and His Church. Therefore, through my conversion,
I Corinthians 7:14 was fulfilled. "An unbelieving husband was
sanctified by a believing wife." Even more miraculous, God
took my love for Mary, combined it with my love for Him, and created
new life, not only within me, but within us. Just weeks after my
conversion, after a long struggle with infertility, my wife and
I learned we were expecting a child. Our joy was compounded in discovering
that we would join in the pregnancy of the Holy Family when we learned
that our projected due date was Christmas. Elias Joseph Drake was
born on December 27, 1995.
It used to be that both the Lutheran and Catholic Church seriously
cautioned against
mixed marriages because of the potential for the "danger of
loss of faith." While I understand their caution and the potential
that mixed marriages have for causing pain I marvel at the joy that
Mary and I now share. Our own mixed marriage not only strengthened
my faith, but Mary's as well.
Afterword
In writing my conversion story I naively envisioned writing something
profound, perhaps something that would touch others. Because it
is so deeply personal I discovered it to be the most difficult writing
I have ever undertaken. The Jewish convert to Catholicism, Dr. Karl
Stern, wrote, "How do you begin to write about how you fell
in love with God?" To write a conversion story from only the
human perspective is to provide an incomplete tale. Clearly, in
ways seen and unseen, the Holy Spirit was acting and moving in me,
opening my ears, mind, and heart. Likewise, the prayers of my wife
and others, known and unknown, were being raised in unison to Heaven.
As complete as this story may seem, our perspective pales in comparison
to the Heavenly events we are unable to relate.
Tim Drake is features correspondent with the National
Catholic Register and will soon be publishing a book titled "Here
We Stand, There We Stood: Stories of Lutherans who have Rediscovered
Their Catholic Roots." Tim writes from St. Cloud, Minnesota.
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