When I decided to convert to Catholicism in 1995, joining the church was much harder than I expected. In the fundamentalist Protestant culture I grew up in, new converts were warmly welcomed, swiftly completed orientation classes and baptism, and assigned leaders to guide them in their new communities. Within months, converts were indistinguishable from older believers and were given jobs shepherding their own flocks.
In contrast, it took months of persistent effort and multiple contacts to catch the attention of a pastor at a nearby parish. During our first meeting, the pastor glared at his notepad, muttered to himself (“I'm not baptized, I need to find godparents”), and growled in response to my answers. Eventually, he gave me the contact information for the director of religious education and sent me on my way, saying he would talk to parishioners who might be interested in making me a godparent.
A few months later, I was attending a Rite of Christian Initiation for Adults (RCIA), a program that prepared me for entry into the Church. (In 2021, the program's name was provisionally changed to Rite of Christian Initiation for Adults, or OCIA.) My godmother-to-be gave me some books about Catholicism that I had been reading on my own. I was frustrated because what I was being taught in class didn't seem to line up with the vision of Catholicism described in the books. So I turned to The Apostolate of Apologetics, founded by one of the authors I was reading.
“I know priests who will prepare you for conversion outside of the RCIA process,” a staff advocate told me, “and you might be accepted into the Church sooner.”
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To be honest, I was tempted. The apathy I was experiencing was not pleasant. But after some thought, I slowly said, “No. Thank you anyway. But I think we should continue with the parish program.”
Nearly a decade later, I became a staff apologist for that apostolate, and for the next 20 years I observed ongoing conversion in the U.S. We addressed many of the same frustrations with the mainstream conversion process that I had experienced, and we focused on freeing our clients from obstacles.
If the diocese was putting the brakes on the conversion, we taught our clients how to escalate the issue to the diocese: who to contact, what to say, how to fend off people who raised yellow flags, etc. If the catechist seemed to be undermining the Catholic faith (“I don't say the word 'people' in the Nicene Creed,” “Jesus didn't actually multiply the loaves and fishes, he just taught them to share with everyone”), we quickly told our clients that their teacher was wrong.
There was little or no consideration given to patience with the process, collaboration with the parish, or learning from those who challenged their preconceptions. Once the conversion process was complete, new converts were asked to publicly share their stories, because, after all, those stories could inspire new converts.
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In recent years, these efforts have paid off, especially in the form of celebrity conversions. Actors Shia LaBeouf and Russell Brand, political commentator Candace Owens, and Tammy Roberts Peterson, the wife of psychologist and author Jordan Peterson, are among the latest crop of Catholic converts. Both LaBeouf and Brand have been accused of sexual assault. Owens has been accused of anti-Semitism by both the Anti-Defamation League and Ben Shapiro, founder of the website for which Owens writes, The Daily Wire. Tammy Peterson's husband, Jordan Peterson, has long been a source of controversy for his views on men and women and his habit of calling transgender people by their dead names and refusing to use their preferred pronouns.
In some cases, celebrity converts have even announced their intentions to enter ordination (LaBeouf's case) or been given a platform to share their testimony (Owens' case) before the oil has even been applied to their foreheads and dried.
There have also been many conversions by ecclesiastical communities, many of whom were brought to the faith by charismatic clergy who decided to swim across the Tiber to bring their flocks with them. This phenomenon was the main reason why Pope Benedict XVI created private priesthoods in English-speaking countries for Anglican communities wishing to unite with Rome. Clerical converts often have a fast track to the priesthood and can continue to serve the flocks they brought with them.
All of these sound Wonderful. If the hosts of heaven rejoice at the repentance of one sinner, how much more will they rejoice to see all the saints marching into church right now? Why are Catholics opposed to seeing many new Catholics?
The Church has traditionally sought to convert the world. Reason for existenceand always ready to accept converts wherever they are. Perfection is not a prerequisite, but the end goal: “The faith required for Baptism is not a perfect and mature faith, but a beginning that is called to be developed,” say the authors of the Catechism of the Catholic Church. The beginning of the Christian journey is the desire of the convert himself, or of those who speak on his behalf, such as his parents or godparents.
Anyone, man or woman, from the famous to the infamous to the unknown, can join the Church. That will never change, and it shouldn't change. But that doesn't mean conversion should be rushed without serious reason, that converts should be able to circumvent the normal procedures, or that converts should immediately be catapulted onto the stage to tell the world their story.
The same paragraph in the Catechism that acknowledges the imperfect faith of new Catholics expands on the subject: “Faith requires a community of believers. Each individual believer can only believe within the bounds of the Church's faith.”
Communities of believers play a vital role in shaping a believer's faith. Short-circuiting the process in favor of quick conversion serves no benefit to new converts. Converts are isolated from their local community and embedded in bubble communities (communities established specifically for converts, such as Anglican parishes, or communities created around the ideology they held before their conversion).
Ideological bubble communities are especially problematic for new converts. In contrast to the benign indifference I experienced, ideological communities often praise converts. Converts come in with cheers. There is no reason to reflect on past misdeeds or consider making amends for past damages. Instead, converts are placed in the center of the circle and encouraged to share their testimonies and pearls of wisdom.
Such praise is harmful in many ways. Marginalized communities, both within and outside the church, begin to believe that celebrity converts embody what it means to be Catholic. If concerns about public allegations of sexual assault or bias by new converts are not addressed or are ignored by church authorities, those at risk of assault or bias may begin to feel unsafe in the church. Parishes and dioceses are often inundated with converts who begin to seek positions of influence and authority. Sometimes converts are advised to wait, but sometimes desperate churches and pastoral centers, with understaffed, volunteers give new converts more responsibilities than they can handle.
Finally, this flattery is harmful to the converts themselves. The honeymoon doesn't last forever. Sooner or later, converts will experience dissatisfaction between their idealized concept of Catholicism and the real-world church. If they had avoided these dissatisfaction early in the conversion process, they would not have had the opportunity to fully consider whether Catholicism was really right for them before making their formal vows. At that point, they will either reexamine their unquestioned conceptions or try to remake the church in their own image and get their audience along for the ride.
Perhaps converts deserve more of the indifferent attitude I experienced during my conversion. So you want to be Catholic? That's a good thing. You can find your local parish on Google. It may take a while for the pastor to contact you, but hang in there. Read some books while you wait for OCIA to start up again. It may take more than a year to finish OCIA, but you'll meet some wonderful people along the way. Listen to their experiences and ask them what they like (and dislike) about their church. Why not volunteer at your parish bake sale or Christmas craft booth? Volunteering is a great way to meet people.
Of course, attend Mass regularly if you can, but don't worry about the differences between the church liturgy and the one in the book – the Church allows for small local variations.
Once you become a Catholic, settle into a parish and learn. It's a lifelong journey with ups and downs, but you'll have lots of new friends within the church who will help you.
Image: Unsplash/Jacob Bentzinger
