Taylor R. Marshall - The Eternal City: Rome & the Origins of Catholic Christianity

February 2. Feast Day of the Purification of Mary. I was still an Episcopalian priest. My wife Joy was pregnant with our fourth child. We traveled to Rome with a question that had been pricking our consciences: Is the Catholic Church the true Church of our Lord Jesus Christ?

If you have read the first book in the trilogy, The Crucified Rabbi , you read about my encounter with the Rabbi at the hospital and my theological inquiry into Catholicism. After prayer and late night conversations, Joy and I were ready. We had flown to Rome, and we were ready to seal the deal.

That day, we got in line for the Vatican Scavi Tour. This tour leads pilgrims through the narrow passages beneath the floors of Saint Peters Basilica into the long lost inner sanctum of the basilica. Here in the darkness, below the feet of those in the church is the first century burial plot of Saint Peter.

Our tour guide was a priest from Belgium who spoke excellent English. Joy and I were, by far, the most enthusiastic members of that mornings tour group. At the end of the tour, we at last came to the Tropaion, which had been built over Peter s tomb, and there we saw the bones of Saint Peter.

I was not then a Catholic. However, the weight of sanctity in that place pushed me to my knees. I knelt down, and I prayed to Saint Peter . Holy Peter, Im ready. Please lead me into communion with your successor, the Vicar of Jesus Christ my Lord.

After the tour, the Belgian priest stayed behind and struck up a conversation with us. We seemed so excited and impressed by the tour that he wanted to know who we were. When I told him that we were not Catholics, but that I was an Episcopalian priest, his face lit up. He was writing his dissertation in Rome on some ecumenical matter. Then he surprised us with a question: Would you like to attend Holy Mass with the Pope this evening?

The answer to that question was obvious. The Belgian priest was pleased to make arrangements. We walked from the Scavi entrance on the south side of Saint Peters, across Saint Peters Square, and then up a staircase to the north. At the top were two Swiss Guards with pikes. The Belgian priest told us to wait there. He mumbled some Italian to the guards and disappeared.

A few minutes later he returned with two orange tickets, which were marked with that evenings date and were issued by the Palazzo Apostolico Vaticano. The Belgian priest told us to return to Saint Peter s an hour before the Mass with those tickets. We had a nice chat, and the priest went about his business. To my shame, I dont know his name.

That evening, my wife and I attended the Holy Mass of the Purification. At this particular Holy Mass the Holy Father recognized the various religious orders of the world. We were in line with hundreds of nuns, friars, and monks. We were clearly out of placea married Episcopalian priest in a cassock with a pregnant wife. My dear! I hope we did not scandalize all those nuns.

The Holy Mass was glorious. It began in total darkness. Pope Benedict XVI entered the back doors with only a candle. From this candle was lit all the candles of the nuns, monks, and friars. For the whole Mass, we were near the bronze statue of Saint Peter. I could see the Holy Father clearly. I knew that His Holiness was the true successor of the Fisherman, and recalling that just that morning I had been deep underneath that altar at the bones of Saint Peter, the connection between the ministry of Saint Peter the First Pope and that of Benedict XVI the present Pope was made manifest right before my eyes.

When it came time for Holy Communion, I knew that I could not go forward to receive. I was not a Catholic. I was not in communion with the Holy Father. I was in schism . It was a sickening feeling. I was out of communion with the Vicar of Christ, and I knew in that moment that my relationship with Christ was impaired. I also knew what I had to do. I had to resign the Episcopalian priesthood and become a Catholic.

That next morning in Rome , I met with an impressive priest by the name of Monsignor James Conley at Saint Annes Gate outside the Vatican. I had met Monsignor Conley the previous day after having met the Belgian priest. Monsignor Conley, over a strong cappuccino, had within a matter of minutes placed me into a theological headlock. Our conversation had been swift and covered topics such as Cardinal Newmans arguments against Anglicanism, Pope Leo XIIIs Apostolicae Curae , the significance of Dominus Jesus in 2000, and Cardinal Ratzingers clarification about Anglican Orders. Monsignor Conley was sharp, and he did not pull punches.