Hello, and welcome to the
Tiber River Café. My name is Dean
Humphreys, and today’s topic is the second part of my faith journey story. In the first part I briefly reviewed my upbringing
in the Protestant church, the United Church of Christ, and through my college
years and early adulthood of my early 20s.
My early faith journey was mostly non-existent, stagnant, and perhaps
lukewarm at best, but looking back I can see hints and nudges to seek more, to
open my eyes and ears.
So
I’m now in my early 20s, my first job out of college and living away from
home. I felt called to the married life
and wanted a life partner, someone to love and someone to love me. I knew I wanted to be married and to have a
family, and so I set out to find the love of my life. I wanted to meet someone that would make me a
better person, someone with honesty, dignity and sincerity. And I thought I would meet such a person at
one of the local churches. So I scanned
through the Yellow Pages and picked a church that was close, that had a nice
name, and the local Presbyterian Church sounded right, so I decided to attend
their upcoming Sunday service. Why
Presbyterian? I enjoyed researching my
family history and knew that my ancestors had once attended the local Welsh
Presbyterian Church in my home town, so Presbyterian seemed like a good
starting point. I knew absolutely
nothing about Presbyterian beliefs or doctrines, I was simply looking to return
to my ancestral roots. So at my first
time at the local Presbyterian Church I quickly realized that there were no
young women in sight and my time in the Presbyterian Church came to a sudden
end.
But
several months later I was introduced to a girl, Lisa, who was the
maid-of-honor at my co-worker’s wedding.
We went out on a date which I thought went very well, dinner and a
movie, only to find out later she wasn’t interested but agreed to a second date
only at the prompting of her mother (and we’ve now been married for over 20
years!). Around the time that we started
dating I decided that I did not want to spend the rest of my life wearing a
business suit and carrying a briefcase so I started to explore other career
options. Then one afternoon I was in my
apartment by myself and clear as day I heard the words “Be a nurse.” I will never forget that day, the words were
so clear, like someone was standing next to me.
Looking back I can see that God was calling me to my vocation. The message was very clear, but I knew
absolutely nothing about nursing so I started researching about the profession
and liked what I was reading, the occupation seemed to fit my personality. I applied and was accepted to the local
nursing school which was affiliated with our local Catholic hospital, and I
quit my corporate job—absolutely no regrets and I haven’t worn a suit
since. Becoming a nurse has been one of
the best decisions of my life. I have
one of those jobs that I would continue to do for free.
So
as Lisa and I were talking one day the conversation turned towards
religion. She was from a Catholic family
who attended Mass every Sunday. I
remember the moment of silence when I told my parents that I was dating a
Catholic girl. I never had a negative
perception of the Catholic Church. I
really didn’t know anything about the Catholic Church. The few people I knew who were Catholic
seemed to be very kind and friendly people.
The few times I was inside a Catholic Church were positive experiences;
I really do like stained glass windows and Gothic architecture. But I knew I believed in God and that was the
starting point. The topic of religion
can be a game-changer moment for some couples, but we continued to date and our
relationship strengthened. Eventually we
started talking about future plans and what-ifs. And eventually the topic about religion came
up again. If I ever got married (like
there was any choice at this point) I definitely knew I would want to raise our
family under one faith. And since I
obviously wasn’t staunchly Protestant I would, with a big gulp, convert to the
Catholic faith.
We
had already been attending her parish for the past several months. Interesting,
I remember thinking at the time that the church of my youth seemed more
‘Catholic’ than the Catholic Church we were attending. My former Protestant church (St. John’s),
well over a hundred years old, had two stories of very large stained glass
windows on both sides of the sanctuary, rows of wooden pews with hymnals, a
large picture of Jesus, and a massive organ behind the altar area where the
choir stood. The Catholic Church Lisa
and I attended (ironically, also St. John’s) had chairs with no kneelers (we
visited about a year ago and they have since added them), no statues, a piano
but no choir and hardly anyone sang, and no stained glass windows. Did I mention that I love stained glass
windows? I proposed to Lisa at the end
of summer and she thankfully said yes.
I
soon entered the parish RCIA program that autumn and was on my journey to the
Catholic Church. I remember the moment
of silence when I told my parents that I was converting to the Catholic
Church. Thankfully it was nothing more
than a very brief moment. I enjoyed the
weekly RCIA classes taught by Deacon Bud, they were very informative,
welcoming, and friendly. The book we
read in RCIA helped to clarify the basic teachings of the Catholic Church. I remember the uneasiness I felt the first
time I made the sign of the cross or knelt during prayers, because that is what
Catholics do—until I reminded myself that I was becoming one of those
Catholics. I remember vividly my
Confirmation Mass; it was a beautiful spring day in 1992 at the Easter
Vigil. Walking into the Church Deacon
Bud asked me what I had chosen as my Confirmation name. I asked ‘what is a Confirmation name?’ I really didn’t know of any saints, this was
all still pretty new to me, and since it was close to St. Patrick’s Day I chose
Patrick as my Confirmation name. My
parents and family were present for the Mass which was very meaningful and
encouraging for me. My parents have
always been supportive of my decisions regarding my faith journey.
Well, there’s the second part
of my faith story. Thanks again for
stopping by the Tiber River Café, where there is always plenty of room at the
banquet table. I hope to see you next
time. Peace be with you.
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