Susan Irwin--

On my church’s Web site, there is a section to write about your commitment date and your faith journey. I decided to expand on it here as a dear friend asked me recently why I switched from being a Catholic. I have always accepted Christ as my Savior. I never had a great revelation or saving moment when I accepted Christ; it was just there. I grew up attending Catholic schools for 9 years. I was in the choir and later the folk group. I attended church every week and on all the Holy Days of Obligation, did the Sacraments. Mass was the same each week:  same songs, same prayers, same words. I began to look forward to the priest’s “singing” the Mass just for a change. I never read the Bible as we were never instructed on how to do so, nor were we encouraged. We had our “religion books” each year of school. Everything we were supposed to know was in the books or at Mass. In eighth grade, the priest who taught our religion class once a week, would pick a question out of a box. I had been “analyzing” those repetitious words I had been saying all my life. They began to seem very impersonal. One question I put in was "If the Profession of Faith says We believe in one God, why are there so many different religions that believe in different things?" I have tried to remember his answer, and cannot. It must not have made much of an impact. I was slowly moving away from the Catholic faith. How could I believe in something when I didn’t understand what it was about or what the words meant? The last Mass I attended, except for weddings and funerals, was the last one my childhood church would have. The church, school, and rectory were to be demolished. I went mostly for nostalgia reasons; to look around . . . the altar, the stained glass, the Stations of the Cross, statues, the choir loft . . . and remembered the years I spent there. Despite my uncertainty, I would not have traded those years for anything.

I always thought it strange to hear “I got saved!” or “I found Christ!” It sounded odd to me because I thought, “I never lost Him.” The meaning of those words is clearer now. Although I never lost my faith in Christ, I just didn’t embrace Him as I should. If I wanted to sit in the middle of a street and call that my church, I could. As long as I was praying and talking to God, I would be all right. I didn’t need a ‘middleman’; I could talk and pray to Him and ask directly for my forgiveness. Friends and I would have spirited discussions about God and the Bible. I thought of that as ‘going to church.’ After all, Jesus said "whenever two or three are gathered in My name, I am there." I got married in the Episcopal church; it was important to me to have my marriage blessed and the teachings were similar to the only religion I knew. I attended the services alone for a few years, then fell away from that as well. It still didn’t fit; it wasn’t in tune with my soul.

After the birth of my son, my Lamaze instructor and chaplain at the hospital talked about God with my husband and me. She invited us to her church, but we never went. I would drive by and think about it. Almost 5 years later, I saw her again after the birth of my daughter. She had since moved on to another church that was trying to expand. I really began to long for the fellowship of a church again. I attempted to go back to the Episcopal church, but it still didn’t feel right. So I just kept praying and having discussions about God while I read about different faiths. I knew there had to be one that had the same core beliefs and feelings that I felt; I just couldn’t find it.

A friend at work went to the same church my instructor had attended. I wanted to know what Hope Church was about. Judy gave me a pamphlet on the Evangelical Free Churches and said she’d be happy to talk and answer questions. I read the pamphlet and asked a few questions. It seemed interesting, but I still was unsure. Within a few months, the controversy over the movie “The Passion of the Christ” began. This fueled my desire to belong to a church. My children were young and would ask questions about God and Jesus that I just couldn’t answer or explain. I knew it was vital to find a church home. Judy was reading The Purpose-Driven Life by Rick Warren. I was curious and thumbed through the book. It sparked a fire in me; these were my feelings . . . how could that be? Hope was going to be doing a series on the “40 Days of Purpose” and the kick-off was that weekend. I told my family we were going to check out a church that Sunday. My husband said he wasn’t going but we “could.”

The kids and I got up early on a cold February morning and walked into Hope. Finally . . . I had found what I had been longing for. I instantly knew this is where we needed to be . . . the real thing. This was reinforced in messages from the hearts of the pastors, sharing their own faults; the music; visual effects like a live goat! I would hear that it’s OK to have doubt and that it was about relationship with God——not about religion or rules, but having a personal relationship with your Creator! I never knew the word for what I had felt in my soul for all those years until then . . . relationship.

As I listened to the messages each weekend and talked to people, I saw more and more how I wanted the rest of my life to be lived. I knew how I wanted my home, children, and marriage to be. I was changing, my children were changing. People told me I radiated light and excitement when I spoke about my church and what I was learning. Slowly my life was transforming into how it should be with God in the pilot’s seat. My marriage, however, could not survive the change. We were not on the same page in our beliefs. I found it a bit ironic that my reconnection with my faith was the beginning of the end of my marriage.

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