I come from a Catholic family, where my first prayers were taught to me by my paternal grandmother every night before going to sleep. I was never very committed, nor did I ever delve deeply into the Catholic faith; rather, I saw the congregation as a social institution, a place to find friends or a girlfriend. It was all wholesome, but far from what being a committed Christian truly means. This stage lasted from the age of 12 to 20.

 At the age of 20 I was on my way to a meeting of the youth group in which I took part, and 5 minutes before reaching the Parish I realized that I was cold, that I was actually wasting my time — that is how I felt — so I turned around and never set foot in the parish again.

At 20, I was beginning my second year of university, where a whole world different from the parish existed — a world I enjoyed and that made me break out of the shell I was in; without excesses, mind you, but far from God. I never prayed again, nor recited any of what my grandparents had so lovingly taught me. During that 2nd year of university I met someone from a Pentecostal evangelical family (Unitarians); she was an atheist, and I began a relationship centered on sex. I renounced God and even openly declared that I did not believe in His existence.

After a year, an unwanted child came as a consequence (I was a single father); everything I had ever thought collapsed. Nevertheless, I did not marry this person. I entered a whole stage of questioning my life and my actions; I began to feel that remorse of having been away from the Lord for so long. I needed to feel Him close again, and He heard me: I met a wonderful woman (who is my current wife), and with her things began to change. I started seeking God again, but I lacked strength and grew lukewarm. It was during this lukewarm stage that, at work, I met some Catholics who took part in the Charismatic Renewal but who, because of disagreements with some religious sisters, got upset and freely left their parish. The problem is that they did not go to another parish, but instead founded an evangelical charismatic church (of the Pentecostal kind). When I asked them the reason for their displeasure, one of them told me it was because they wanted them to “worship Mary.” It sounded strange to me, but it was not my problem. One of these ex-Catholics began giving some introductory courses to organize the fledgling church; out of friendship, I helped him with legal information to apply for legal status (a requirement in my country) so that his church could come into being. This is where my acquaintance with the evangelical faith began, for I started becoming my friend’s proselyte.

Of this faith, I knew only the historical side: Martin Luther breaks away because he falls out with the Pope, and that is that. With this office colleague, I began to internalize the concepts of “Sola Scriptura,” “Sola Fide,” “The Roman Catholic Church is apostate,” “Priests lead their flock to perdition,” “Christ is our only and sufficient Savior,” “The Eucharist is symbolic,” “There is no real presence of Christ in the wine and the bread,” etc.

Generally, after lunch, we would walk for a while, during which we talked about the new faith and the doctrinal errors of Catholics; sometimes we went together in his car, listening to an evangelical radio station, or else during the coffee break. After some time came the invitation to a service; I accepted it, for the virus of the Reformation was already inside me. I went, and it was a gathering in a rented house that served as a temple. I remember there was singing for more than 1 hour and 1/2; the people were pleasant. Then came a guest Pastor, who was teaching them how to be evangelicals, since the great majority of those present were former charismatic Catholics. This pastor began calling up to the platform those who wished to be saved or to receive some healing; I had sat down at the back of the hall. At that moment they came up to me and asked whether I wanted to accept Jesus as my Savior, to which I said yes. I went up to the platform; the pastor took my head, had me say my name, and told me that from that minute on I was already written in the book of life and that my wife would also come to that point, that I should not worry, for God willed it so. I repeated the formula: “Jesus, I accept you as my only and sufficient Savior… ” Then the H.S. (supposedly) blew over me several times, but I did not fall to the ground (I am rather sturdy and was used to rough sports, so I attributed it to that), so I went to sit down, and there I observed what was happening: there were many sisters who fell to the ground, wept a great deal; others spoke in tongues or murmurings of tongues, but nothing intelligible.

After this, my proselytizing work with my wife began; she could not stand it. She remained firm in her Catholic faith, and we had many arguments. Many times I wounded her Catholic convictions — for example, attending the Month of Mary, which was important to her. I ridiculed many of her practices, and instead of finding union in this new faith, I found estrangement. This situation was not very pleasant. Grudgingly, I attended some Catholic celebrations to which my family or my wife’s family invited me, and I always remember how ridiculous I was, for I only sang or responded to what I believed to be biblical in those celebrations, and always with my wife watching me.

In that period I became a supporting member of the evangelical radio station of my country; I contributed money monthly for its upkeep — a “love offering,” we called it. I listened to it every day, and there I internalized evangelical doctrine and gathered spiritually with my brothers in the faith. One day I asked my brother and friend, who was already an elder in the church, to recommend some mailing list of interest, so as to know what other brothers thought. This is how I came to the Apologética list, run by Carlos Devetac. So far so good, until I began to participate and realized that the atmosphere was not exactly holy, in terms of how they treated one another — and that although we were all brothers. I began to see that, despite it being said that we were one single invisible church, the very body of Christ, the different doctrines nevertheless divided us; but in the end the faith was only one… yet not even that, for certain groups came out announcing that they truly were the remnant chosen by God, that the others were the Daughters of the harlot, Messianic Jews who cursed you if you questioned observing today’s Saturday against the biblical Shabbat, Adventists with endless tracts saying that if you eat pork and do not keep Saturday as rest, you go to hell — in short, countless ideas for every taste, and also, with all respect, I saw much ignorance and cliché phrases.

During this period I also began to read the writings of Messianic Jews and started leaning that way. I went so far that there came a moment when I began to doubt the deity of Our Lord and even His messiahship, for without realizing it I ended up on the websites of Jews and former evangelical Christians, where they refuted the whole of Christianity for you; but by the grace of God I knew how to get out of there, refuting them myself. Without meaning to, I had gotten into what Scripture itself warns about regarding “the winds of strange doctrine.”

With my wife we had had a serious estrangement, so much so that I even thought about the “unequal yoke — well then, what if I separate and go off with an evangelical woman” (quite despicable of me to have thought that way), but we stayed together. On more than one occasion she had asked me in which faith we would raise our children, and the answer was “they will decide.”

Until, because of a financial problem, I took my children out of the secular private school they were in, and my wife enrolled them in a Catholic school very close to my house, which was cheap and belonged to the Sisters of the Good Shepherd. Here came my first and great surprise: my eldest son, without anyone telling him anything, decided to make his First Communion. Well, since my words had been that they would decide, I accepted it — but I did not know that I would have to attend, for 2 years in a row, meetings every week in the afternoon for family catechesis, and thus support my son in his preparation. At first I thought of going now and then, but then I thought, like a good Protestant, “God wants me there to change souls,” and I began to go with all my artillery and the purpose of breaching and questioning everything Catholic. But I do not know why, the catechist, instead of looking at me badly, began to be fond of me, and together with other people we began to create a subgroup within the general catechesis group, and I gradually discovered that they had the same spiritual longings and that they loved our Lord as much as or more than I did — and that while they were in the other trench. So this was my first awakening: after having been asleep for 18 years, I realized that the people who took part in the Catholic Church were different from the concept of cold and mechanical people I had in my head, and I began to enjoy the catechesis meetings.

On the other hand, they had already challenged me: that if I had accepted Christ, then I should be baptized — a subject on which I already had differences, for I always thought, and still think, that there is only one baptism. Although I was baptized as a child, at the moment I made my declaration of salvation at the pulpit, the work was complete; I did not need to be immersed in a river, for by faith I had already reaffirmed that Trinitarian baptism by saying that Jesus is my Savior.

By the second year of catechesis, and as a result of some encounters/retreats we had, I began to experience a new warmth in my being, something inexplicable that I had not felt in my Protestantism; it was a feeling of immense joy and peace. These retreats were completely Christ-centered — nor was much said about Mary, Dogmas, or Saints, as most evangelicals think — it was like the second step in my awakening. So I began to question my status as a Protestant, for without needing to be questioning everything in the light of the Bible, I began to be simpler; I let myself be led freely by the Holy Spirit.

So I began, in parallel, to do two things. The first: I accompanied my wife to Mass, merely as a listener. At first I felt kind of strange, but for the first time I began to listen and to understand. At the same time I began to look for information about what the Reformation was — the hows, wheres, whys — and what the current evangelical reality is. I came to know and discovered treatises of the Fathers of the Church, which I had been unaware of; I began to read about conversions. At work I began to discuss with my evangelical friend and brother many inconsistencies that I was starting to find in evangelical doctrine, so that they might be put to his Pastor (I never received an answer), especially everything related to the Eucharist vs. the evangelical Lord’s Supper. This last point was the definitive awakening.

After reading treatises from both sides — from the aberrations that J.T. Chick utters to the treatises of Scott Hahn — and reading conscientiously the Gospel according to Saint John, verse by verse, I understood that the Catholic Eucharist was the real one. The day I realized this, it is as if a flash or flare had passed through my head and eyes; many things began to make sense. This was a weekday, and I waited until Sunday, for I felt a hunger within me: I needed to receive the Risen and Living Christ in the host, the Bread of Eternal Life come down from Heaven (before, I had received it only on 2 occasions, at 13 and then at 18 years of age, and I did not remember what it felt like). That day my whole family went to Mass, and for the first time I took part in the entire celebration, without leaving anything out, for now everything was biblical. It is as if the veil had been drawn back and everything began to have meaning and reality, until that moment came to take the host, and the sensation was exquisitely sublime. Never before in my life had I felt so comforted in my inner being; I felt an immense peace throughout my interior. I asked forgiveness for all my past and for the wretchedness of my being, and I thanked my Lord for bringing me to this point. At that moment it is as if I had been lifted up, and I began to weep, unable to stop; kneeling, I could not hold back the tears. My children were surprised, until that calm arrived and that inner peace which is hard to describe — but the truth is that never before had I felt like this. After this, and although I still had some doubts, above all about the Marian dogmas, I realized that I could no longer remain an evangelical, for if I found that the Mass and the Eucharistic banquet were sublime and real, then the Catholic faith was too, and my doubts about saints and others would have some logical answer in the light of the Scriptures. This happened between October and November of the year 2004.

From then on, the only thing I wanted was for Sunday to come soon. The time also came for my son’s First Communion. I went to confession with the Priest of the School my son attended; I expressed many doubts to him, which he kindly explained to me, and I also confessed that I was, or had been, a Protestant. For this I feared a sermon, or not being able to keep attending the Catechesis meetings; but, unlike what many evangelicals think — that Confession is a trauma — here I found only words of love and of welcome to the Church, like a conversation between friends, which greatly relieved my soul.

After this I renounced the evangelical faith. I cancelled my contribution to the radio station I was supporting, I unsubscribed from Apologética, and I told my evangelical brother and friend of my decision and the grounds on which I based it. He understood me, but he was not able to step out of his ritualism and question himself; but well, that is up to him. In this search regarding those doubts I still had, I found this mailing list, which has benefited me greatly, for it has helped me to clear up those doubts I had. I have read testimonies in which, in some parts, I see myself reflected, for they are the same concerns and desires.

Some evangelical brother may think that it is only sentimentalism and that I was never born again, that I never knew the evangelical faith. That has already been put to me, and the truth is that I feel more and more sure of having become a Catholic, for here I found full plenitude. I cannot fail to acknowledge that my spirituality and the joy of finding Jesus were born in the evangelical faith; I learned to pray and to need God daily. But in the Catholic faith I have found the culmination of this spirituality: I have found the Risen Jesus in the Eucharist, as the supreme expression, which I could never find anywhere else. I recall the passage from Scott Hahn’s book: “while the Protestants are arguing over the menu, we are already enjoying the banquet.” I currently take part in a community that was formed after finishing the catechesis, with the desire to help the Gospel be spread. My family is complete, professing one single Faith, and I feel more blessed than ever.

Thank you

Author: Pedro Muñoz