David B. Currie - Born Fundamentalist, Born Again Catholic

Born Fundamentalist, Born Again Catholic

David B. Currie

Born Fundamentalist,
Born Again Catholic

IGNATIUS PRESS SAN FRANCISCO

Cover art: Delivery of the Keys, by Pietro Perugino
Sistine Chapel, Vatican Palace, Vatican State
Scala/Art Resource, New York

Cover design by Riz Boncan Marsella

1996 Ignatius Press, San Francisco
All rights reserved
ISBN 978-0-89870-569-0
Library of Congress catalogue number 95-79976
Printed in the United States of America

To my wife,

Colleen,

a companion par excellence

Contents

I

II

III

IV

V

VI

VII

VIII

IX

X

XI

Preface

By its very nature, this is a personal story. I started writing it with no intention of letting strangers read it. Its original purpose was to explain my spiritual pilgrimage to my children. I knew that, as they matured, they would be approached by evangelicals attempting to persuade them to leave the Catholic Church. While I was writing, I decided to share my story with a few evangelical friends, as well. I hoped to answer some of their questions. Before I started to circulate it to non-Catholics, however, I had four Catholic friends read it over to check it for any inadvertent heresy. After all, I am a new Catholic.

One of those friends is a priest. He suggested that this story might be helpful to others looking for a deeper relationship with Christ. There are already many explanations of fundamentalism and evangelicalism that Catholics can understand. There are very few treatments of Catholicism written in language that fundamentalists and evangelicals can appreciate.

I am by nature a rather private person, so I hesitated. I was finally convinced by a few paragraphs on generosity in Furrow, by Josemara Escriv: Self-giving is the first step along the road of... union with God.... If you make an effort, with the grace of God that is enough. Put your own interests to one side, you will serve others for God.... The more generous you are for God, the happier you will be. I felt that perhaps I needed to be generous enough with my privacy to share my experiences with whomever they might help. It is in that spirit that I have agreed to bare my soul.

This story was not intended to embarrass anyone or to anger anyone. It merely relates the reasons for my familys pilgrimage from fundamentalist Christianity to the ancient Church that Christ founded, the Catholic Church. To paraphrase the Apostle Paul: when I started this journey through life I was a fundamentalist of fundamentalists (cf. Phil 3:4-6).

This story should be read in order. Although the first three sections are not the longest, they are the most important. Later sections will not make sense without the background supplied in the first three sections. I have written about all the issues as I worked through them in my pilgrimage.

The reason behind my writing should not be forgotten. My intention was to explain my decision to people who had shared my former religious milieu: fundamentalism and evangelicalism. Because of this, I decided to use the New International Version of the Bible. Some of my friends still prefer the King James Version, but most now accept the NIV I do not think any of the points discussed are substantially changed by using a different translation. Paraphrases, however, can be misleading.

I have generally used evangelical ways of speaking because it was for fundamentalists and evangelicals that my explanations were intended. Catholics may find one of these ways of speaking annoying. I have not used the title saint. For example, Catholics would generally speak of Saint Paul. Evangelicals generally call the Apostle Paul merely Paul. That may sound much too familiar and disrespectful to many Catholics. For better or worse, I have decided to use evangelical ways of speaking.

Perhaps the most important reason I consented to publish this personal account has to do with my own indebtedness to certain other authors. I have read the life stories of Christians my whole life. It was the truth I encountered in their stories that stuck with me over the years. Eventually, the truth all accumulated in my head, fell into place, and made sense. If my experiences help even one other Christian on the pilgrimage of life, then it is enough.

There are those who say that people do not care about the truth anymore. I dont believe it. Religious commitment of any sort is too much work if one does not believe it truly answers lifes deepest longings. Our relationship with God is rooted in the way things really are, or it is nonsense. Granted that all of us merely know in part (1 Cor 13:12), but people change religious affiliations because they are convinced that the change brings them closer to God and his truth. Most people do not change merely because of warm fuzzy feelings. A loving social group can make the transition easier, but it is not the primary cause behind the transition itself.

The combination of truth and commitment, over time, is practically impossible to resist. That is the appeal of the martyrs. They had the truth and were committed enough to die for it. The truth, firmly believed, can set your soul on fire. If nothing else, people will come out of curiosity to watch you burn. This is the story of my inner burning for a closer relationship with Christand of where the Truth led me.

Acknowledgments

I would like to thank the many people who encouraged me in this endeavor. Among them are Father Peter, Daniel, Mark, Sandra, David, Virginia, and, most of all, Colleen and our children.

I agree wholeheartedly with John of the Cross: Should I misunderstand or be mistaken on some point, whether I deduce it from Scripture or not, I will not be intending to deviate from the true meaning of Sacred Scripture or from the doctrine of our Holy Mother the Catholic Church. Should there be some mistake, I submit entirely to the Church, or even to anyone who judges more competently about the matter than I.

I

The Beginning

I have vivid memories of the day President John F. Kennedy was shot. A sixth-grader, I was playing on the playground when the rumors started. Just before the dismissal bell at the end of the day, the principal made the announcement over the PA system. JFK had been assassinated. School was dismissed in eery silence. Tears welled up in my eyes as I walked the half mile home that afternoon. My sorrow was almost overwhelming for a sixth-grader, not only because our President was dead, but because in my heart of hearts I knew that he was in hell. He was a Catholic, and I was a Christian fundamentalist.

I was the second child in a family of four children, the only boy. When I was a small child, I was lucky enough to have my mother at home full time. What a great time we had! My family was, and still is, very close.

My parents met at Houghton College after my mother transferred there from Nyack Bible Institute in New York. They returned to Chicago and were married by A. W. Tozer, their pastor and the author of several Christian classics, including The Knowledge of the Holy. I was born while my father was attending Dallas Theological Seminary. At various times each of my parents taught at Moody Bible Institute.

Because my father was a fundamentalist preacher, I was a P.K. (preachers kid). I have fond memories of sitting in church every Sunday, listening to my father preach. Through him I had an education in theology before I ever attended Bible School. We children went to church for about six services each week. We always sat in the fourth row. An older man always sat in the fifth row. He would signal us with a cough and then pass us coconut candies under the pew. We would reach under our seats and then try to unwrap the candy quietly, so no one would hear.

Our church celebrated only Christmas and Easter. I had never even heard of a church calendar that recognized any other events of the Incarnation. We did celebrate the secular holidays, such as Mothers Day. My grandfather was born in Scotland and came to the United States as a child, but he never failed to celebrate Orange Day.