What Every Catholic Should Know

C-A-T-H-O-L-I-C . . . I can see myself writing out the letters carefully. My penmanship was not very good, so I worked at it slowly. I was attending Sacred Heart Parochial School, and throughout my elementary years, I grew up thinking and living the life of a Catholic.

Sunday Mass: usually I went with Dad. He went to the early Mass that did not have a choir. It was a shorter service. Sometimes though, I would go on Saturday to the four o'clock Mass. That way I would do whatever I wanted on Sunday morning – like sleep. This Mass was convenient for Mom too, because it gave her more time to prepare the big Sunday dinner.

As I matured, I began to dislike Church. I had now entered public high school, which meant that I would have to attend C.C.D. classes. These classes taught the Catholic Doctrine to children to prepare them for the various sacraments. I could now receive the sacrament of Confirmation, after which my parents felt I would be mature enough to make my own decisions regarding "religion". With my Confirmation complete, I was now on my own.

"Great!" I used to think; "Now I can do what I want." Sunday was my day. No more church for me, no more confession, no more communion -- just me and the Lord. I was sure God wanted it that way. I did not need church!

That attitude didn't last long though, because while half of my family attended Catholic Church, the rest were becoming involved in a Protestant church. After numerous invitations to attend a service, I finally decided to accept, and so I made my first visit to this new and unique church. "What a difference" I thought. People were so friendly, just like a real family. Immediately I became a welcomed member of that family. "Wow! This is not like Sacred Heart", I would say to myself.

Soon I was caught up in this church's activities, and I gave my total commitment to Christ, accepting Him as my personal Savior. I was also baptized as a proclamation of faith, just as Jesus instructed.

So whatever became of Sacred Heart church? Oh, I thought about it once in a while. It did, however, start to affect me spiritually when I would study the Scriptures and read something that contradicted what I had been taught as a Catholic. I continued to store those contradictions in the back of my mind. What I did not realize was that I was building a monster of resentment towards the Catholic Church. "How could they teach me those things?" I would recall. Yet, they did and would continue to do so with other elementary grade students.

I remember one of the nuns telling us that she had married Jesus. She even showed us her wedding ring. Another nun, when speaking of Baptism, said that unless babies were baptized, they would go to hell. I was taught that only good people went to heaven. Logically that sounded right, so I tried hard to be good. Even then I had inner conflicts with the teachings of the Catholic Church.

I could never understand how I could possibly be good enough for heaven. When I was bad, I remember Mom saying, "Do you want Jesus to cry on the cross?" That was effective all right. I could not bear to think of Jesus suffering on the cross and then crying because I was disobedient. I realize now that Mom was just trying to do her best.

How about when I lost something? "Pray to Saint Anthony, he will help you find it," I was told.

I never did understand the Rosary. I figured it was a neat way of keeping track of your prayers. We would always say it on long trips, and I remember how we used to take turns saying the decades. It never sounded much like a prayer though. We had all learned to say it so fast that the "Hail Mary's" and "Holy Mary's" became a low, mumbling hum. These discrepancies became stored up offenses in my mind.

Even after becoming a Christian, I was approached with scripturally incorrect Catholic theology. My younger sister was attending C.C.D. classes one Sunday. Because I drove her to the school, I decided to stay and wait to take her home. Sitting in on the sixth and seventh grade class, I listened to the teacher discuss the upcoming visit of the Pope. You cannot imagine how astonished I was when she told these young children, "The Pope is the closest one to God." That was the breaking point in that monster of animosity in my mind. From that time on, I began to ridicule the Catholic Church, mostly to myself, but gradually to others.

My resentment became an unsettled bitterness that kept me angry against that church. During that time, my parents still remained devout Catholics, even though most of my family were becoming "born again" in Christ and entering Protestant churches. It was at this time that I fell in love and became engaged. During my first years of marriage, I put aside those feelings. I was too busy with the thoughts of my wonderful husband and our marriage to think about Catholic teaching.

It would not end there however, again those angry thoughts returned even worse than before. Yet, during this time, something was happening to Mom. As I would talk to her, I noticed something different about her. Also, she was reading her Bible and speaking more of the Lord and of His goodness. Mom had no doubt become a true Christian, born again. "Why then, is she still Catholic?" I wondered. I was excited to hear her speak of the Lord working in her life, "but what about the Catholic fallacies?" I questioned. Mom was different than she had been when I was a youngster. The Lord was vivid in her life now more than ever. It was not so much that she was serving the church, like helping at bingo and bazaars, now I saw her serving the Lord.

It was hard for me not to question her beliefs in the Catholic Church, but I did not want to offend her. After all, I knew she had accepted Christ as her Savior, so why should I bother? I became more and more uneasy however, so I decided to say something. I brought up points about some of her church beliefs not being Biblical. I hoped she would understand, but her questions and excuses frustrated me. I could not seem to get through to her.

As I continued to discuss with her the unBiblical aspects of the Catholic Church, I realized that I lacked substantial knowledge of God's Word. I did not know enough about the truth to help Mom see it for herself.

I prayed about the problem I was facing, and God gave me the inspiration to write this book. I believe His challenge to me is two-fold. First, to bring me to a greater knowledge of His Word, and second, to remove my anger toward the Catholic Church and begin a mission to bring Catholics into the light of God's Eternal Truth.