The Eucharist led me back to the Catholic Church

By CHRISTINA M. CONAWAY
CS&T Youth/Young Adult Coordinator

I remember listening to renowned Catholic apologist Scott Hahn during my return to the Catholic Church about a conference he held for Protestant converts. He noted that although there was a myriad of reasons they were converting to Catholicism, the one reason they had in common was the Eucharist.
At one time, the Eucharist had no meaning for me. In fact I didn’t even believe in the real presence or in the reality of transubstantiation. Consequently, Eucharistic adoration — adoring a piece of “bread” — was the most foreign and insane idea to me.
How God has opened my eyes and changed my heart!
I realize that — although I now fall to my knees when in the presence of the Savior — this faith is a grace that God grants. In fact, the faith to believe in the reality of the Eucharist or the whole of Catholic doctrine — from Papal authority to Mary’s heavenly assumption and Mary’s perpetual virginity — is a grace from God.
I returned home from my Catholic university in Rhode Island my junior year to be in a wedding of a high school friend at her Presbyterian church. On the way to the church, I fulfilled my personality stereotype of being the “queen of questions,” by asking the best man, a Presbyterian children’s pastor, about his church. I told him I was Catholic and had just been confirmed in the faith. As we shared, I looked for similarities between the two Christian faiths.
Later that evening, my friend’s fiancé began to ask me about the Mass. I told him the spiritual realities of the Mass and how I felt and how beautiful the celebration was. I wasn’t too educated in my faith, but knew that there was something there that I needed. I had no idea what.
Looking back, I can see how I probably confirmed their stereotypes of Catholics. To be honest, I really didn’t know enough to defend my faith or even explain it. I felt it and thought that was enough.
My ignorance of Catholic doctrine served as a means by which I began to question the faith into which I was baptized. I began to receive tapes and books on “Reformed Theology,” tapes from church sermons and a new “Modern Reformation” study Bible.
At the time, I thought, “how nice of them to send me these resources.” I was unaware of the Protestant and Catholic divisions and that the intention of the Protestants in sending me this material was to “save me.” Later, I realized that their zeal was based on misconceptions held about the Catholic Church. I had no knowledge to defend or explain those misconceptions.
In the next few months, as I began to read and delve into the material, a Catholic block started to form. I began to turn my back on the Catholic faith because as questions arose, I lacked understanding and knowledge to answer them. I didn’t know the teachings of the Catholic Church nor was I seeking out resources to answer my inquiries. I returned my senior year to my Catholic university and vowed never to attend Mass again.
I stopped going to campus ministry and was noticeably indignant in my Catholic religion class. What started to form in me was a disdain and hate of the Catholic faith. I saw Catholics as warped and brainwashed. Within Christian circles, I found myself speaking negatively about the Catholic faith, confirming stereotypes about “Catholics” and often being the ringleader of Catholic-bashing sessions.
How I bow my head in sorrow when I think back to my many ignorant words. The problem wasn’t the Catholics. The problem was that I didn’t know the faith against which I professed to stand so fervently.
One poignant memory was when a Protestant friend organized a “recovering Catholics” Bible study group. He, too, was a former Catholic and organized the group to teach Catholics about the Protestant faith. I joined immediately.
As I was talking and confirming his experience, one group member kept asking questions contrary to our stance. He was extremely educated in the Catholic faith.
I remember thinking, “why does he keep contradicting me? This is the first time since being in this church I’ve been contradicted.”
He soon revealed that he was thinking of converting to Catholicism. I was dumbfounded and intimidated. He stood in opposition to the world view I was beginning to adopt.
Another memory was when I was attending a Bible study given by a medical community. I was answering questions from a gentleman there. He asked if my roommates were Christian. I said, “Oh, well, they’re Catholic.” I’d learned quickly at my new church that Catholics were not considered Christians, they were our mission ground.
He quickly remarked, “Well, you know they are Christians too.” I felt chastised.
Through these lessons, I see how the hand of God was stretching out to me pulling me home to the Catholic Church.
One summer evening, while sitting in the Presbyterian church, listening to the perfectly crafted sermon, I got this incredible hunger. It wasn’t communion Sunday so we weren’t receiving communion. I remember thinking, “If there is a Catholic Church anywhere that has Mass, I need to find it.” There was this overwhelming desire, need and hunger to receive Communion — a spiritual hunger with a physical response.
It is the Eucharist that brought me back to the Catholic Church. Tears of joy filled my eyes the day I received the Eucharist – the bread from heaven, our Savior’s body and blood – after a year of protesting against the Church.
Scott Hahn’s conversion story, Jeff Cavin’s book, “My Life on the Rock,” and Matt Pinto’s presentation on the five reasons to be Catholic confirmed my return.
Now when I go to Mass or during Eucharistic adoration, I can feel the very pulse of life — the very pulse of our Lord Jesus Christ — the Eucharist. When God granted me the grace to believe in the very presence of Christ in the Eucharist, all other Catholic doctrine made sense. The spiritual food fed me, nourishing both my body and soul with the Truth.
When I wrote the pastor of my former Presbyterian church of my return to the Roman Catholic Church, his response was of dismay. “No doubt you will understand that we have mixed emotions about your return to the Roman Catholic Church. I believe that this move may not bring you closer to God, as you hope, but may make it more difficult for you to experience the true spiritual reality of His grace,” he wrote.
I wrote him how I was challenged to grow, learn and understand the Bible at his church but I still felt a longing. Although I was being intellectually fed, spiritually I needed the “bread of life” as Christ established and commanded his apostles to administer. To this he responded, “I would love to have the opportunity to speak with you more about … our understanding of the true biblical meaning of “the bread of life.”
Two weeks ago I sat across from a girl who’d e-mailed me and said she was thinking of converting to the Catholic Church. She had been attending the same Presbyterian church I’d attended and a friend gave her my e-mail. We met at a coffee shop and I shared with her the reasons for my return. We talked of Church doctrine, our faith journeys and she shared about this indescribable hunger she is experiencing.
She said that she feels there’s something more. She’d begun taking the Rite of Christian Initiation for Adults (RCIA) classes to learn more about the Catholic faith. The hunger she described is for the Eucharist. I could identify with her because it was the same hunger I’d experienced.
I found my home in the Catholic Church, the one altar where you can eat of His flesh and drink of His Blood. In the Eucharist, I am able to experience the most intimate Communion with Jesus Christ, Our Lord, by receiving the Body and Blood of the God-man truly, substantially present.

Contact Christina M. Conaway at cconaway@adphila.org or (215) 587-3668.