Conversion and Disillusionment

These days it's not uncommon to hear talk of a "convert problem" in the Church. The general idea is that converts to Catholicism tend to be troublesome and meddlesome and act like they know better than cradles or the hierarchy. This is a reasonably accurate stereotype and I'd like to explore why that is. In my part of the world and I assume others, converts typically come from evangelical backgrounds. Evangelicalism, at least in America, is a cross-denominational approach to Christianity characterized by: decisional and personal faith, intense focus on the person of Christ and his grace, wholehearted acceptance of fundamental dogma, full-throated promotion of unpopular doctrines, willingness to question leadership, an appreciation for the Bible that borders on obsessive, a borderline superstitious openness to the supernatural, and a concern for building community. There are other more negative characteristics as well: an ignorance of and distaste for "high" Christianity, permissiveness toward divergent views, rejection of liturgical worship, reduction of the sacraments to — in practice optional — ordinances, ignorance of Church history and historical theology,

Those of us who convert from this background often retain many or all of these qualities save a few; the ones we drop usually prompt our conversion in the first place. Those we retain determine what kind of Catholics we will be. In most cases, the former qualities are retained and the latter are dropped, making for passionate but meddlesome laymen and women who are credulous in the best way. Herein lies the problem. Despite much talk in recent decades of "elements of sanctification and of truth [that] are found outside" the Catholic Church, many of us encounter resistance to our most deeply cherished beliefs both from cradles and Church hierarchy. I've heard many homilies that are at best unsupportive of and at worst scandalous to those with a notion that Christ and supernatural grace ought to be the absolute center of life. I once heard a priest preach on Easter that the cross of Christ doesn't so much take away something — that is, sin and death — as it gives us something, namely, a new awareness of our brothers and sisters who suffer in poverty. This was at an archiepiscopal cathedral. On pretty much every front, we are at odds both with individual Catholics and with the general culture of the Church. The convert who retains the dynamism of evangelicalism but comes to love the mass and profess all that the Church teaches as revealed by God has one pejorative slapped on his forehead: fundamentalist, opposition to which is considered the sine qua non of Catholicism in the modern world.

While our devotees of modernized Catholicism regard us as a "problem," we — or should I say I? — consider those who oppose us witting or unwitting enemies of religion. For it is religion that drew us to the Church; it is religion with which the most sincere Protestants actually find commonalities — real, substantial religion, the "old religion" of old Europe which for centuries nourished the piety of our forefathers, supernaturalist superstitions like processions for good weather and sacrifice for the dead, bibliocentric fundamentalism like the dogmatic anathema and devotion to scripture, and high liturgy modeled after royal court ceremony, like that of John Chrysostom and the Gregorian-Tridentine mass. If I am accused of being nostalgic for a bygone era, I gladly submit to the charge. Catholicism is of its essence bygone. Its practices and beliefs are as contrary to the modern era and its way of thinking as a baptist preacher's. Catholicism and modernity are essentially irreconcilable and the project is doomed to failure. One must choose which master to serve. As for me and my house, et cetera.

Nevertheless this opposition to and hatred of modern, toned-down, minimalist, humanist Catholicism is wearing. I confess to experiencing great disillusionment and dissatisfaction. I know I’m not alone, but apart from enclaving oneself in an orthodox parish and ignoring the broader Church whose confessional name one bears, there's little to be done. Then sets in the most frustrating, numbing buyer's remorse, a remorse without solution. I — or we — know we can't return to Protestantism yet find Catholicism nearly intolerable, not for what it is in itself but what most of its adherents imagine it to be. I confess I feel rather gullible. I came to believe Catholicism was in continuity with the apostles, Church Fathers, medieval tradition, Trent and Vatican I. Far from being the life-blood of the Church in the 21st century, this is passed over as unimportant and embarrassing, much like a divorcee passed over a previous marriage in favor of a second marriage. The Church is married to this age, and I confess I don't see much resemblance to the Church of yesteryear with which I fell in love.