From Catholicism to Christ

FROM CATHOLICISM TO CHRIST

THE TESTIMONY OF ROB STEWART
robs@mail.saimr.wits.ac.za


THE TURNING POINT
I was a good catholic until my confirmation. I was in standard 4 at Christian Brothers College (CBC) in Green Point, Cape Town. My confirmation class consisted of about 7 other chaps in my class who had not yet been confirmed. We were been thoroughly grounded in the Catechism over a number of weeks and we were told that confirmation was what had happened to the apostles on the day of Pentecost when the Holy Spirit came upon them. This sounded like something really special and very exciting. I was very devout and I took it all very, very seriously. I did not doubt that something great was in store for me on that day.

At long last that great day arrived and we all got dressed up for this special occasion. The ceremony was to be held in the Sacred Heart Church on the edge of Cape Town. I had great expectations and to crown it all, none other than the newly ordained Cardinal McCann was going to lay hands on us to confirm us in our faith. The Pope had ordained him, the man who was closest to God upon the whole of planet earth! And I was expecting great things, a touch from God, a feeling, and a blessing of some kind through these holy men of God. My turn came but it turned out to be just an old man muttering something in Latin, laying his hand on me and giving me his blessing. That is as far as it went. I was shattered, disappointed, confused - absolutely nothing had happened. My great hunger for the reality of God was turned to dust and ashes.

That day was the great turning point in my life. From then on Roman Catholicism was a waning influence in my life. It had made me big promises but it was very poor on delivery.


MY ROOTS
Perhaps I should back track a bit and go to the beginning of my life. I was born into a very ordinary home, between two siblings, an older brother and a younger sister. I had a turn at being the youngest child with all the attendant blessings and then at the age of 10, my sister arrived and took over my privileged position. My father was a motor mechanic and as was customary in the 50’s, my mother stayed at home to raise the children. Although my father did not earn a large salary both my parents were very frugal with money and not one cent was wasted. They had both been brought up in large families with scarce resources and in young adulthood, they had both experienced the rationing of the war years. My parents did not drink or smoke. Every cent was put to good use and they gave us the very best that they could afford. We never lacked anything essential to growing up. We were brought up on sound economic principles such as: eat it, wear it, drive it and when it cannot be worn any longer or driven any further then you can replace it. So we didn’t get the roller skates or the latest fashions. Items were bought in bulk, on sales and at discount outlets whenever possible and so my school clothes were always purchased 2 or 3 sizes too large so that I could grow into them and thus get the full mileage out of every strand of cotton. I take my hat off to my parents. Real salt of the earth people. I am sure their financial policies could be used to run a nation.

My mother’s parents came from Sicily. Her maiden name was Licata. Her father was a sailor and came to South Africa to look for a better life. Well so we were told but of course he could have been running from a Mafia vendetta. I can’t remember my grandparents but I get the strong impression they weren’t wimpish in any sense of the word. They were strong stock, people with minds of their own and who weren’t shy to stick to their principles.

My father’s parents were from British stock. My grandfather’s family seems to have been in South Africa for several generations and I think they probably came out on their own steam sometime since the first British occupation of the Cape in 1795. There is no verbal history as to when they came as one generally finds with South Africans who came over with the 1820 Settlers or during the Anglo-Boer War. My grandfather was an interesting character because he left a lucrative job as a manager in Garlicks to become a missionary to the coloured people with City Mission in the city of Cape Town. On one occasion an unwilling proselyte stabbed him in District 6. He survived the incident. District 6 was a very poor area of Cape Town set aside for the Coloured people. The previous government levelled it in the 1960’s. My grandmother was an orphan from England who came over as a young girl of 16 expecting to find the streets paved with gold.

So, from these two diverse streams of humanity my parents united in holy matrimony and became one in all things except in mind. My mother is as stubborn as my father and my father is as stubborn as my mother. So no one ever won an argument in our home. After a few days or weeks or months a truce is non-verbally agreed to so that life can be normalised. They never divorced because divorce was just unthinkable to that generation. They will surely stand up at the resurrection and condemn this generation for taking the easy way out and destroying children in the process.

My father has avoided religion all his life it seems. When he wanted to marry my mother, he received stiff opposition from my grandfather who was not happy for his son to be marrying a Catholic and did not attend the wedding. This, coupled with the fact that my grandfather neglected his family in his service to God, definitely had a negative impact upon him.

Women are usually more open to spiritual things and my mother was no different. She made sure that we went to Catholic schools and tried to take us to Mass regularly. At one stage she used to read me stories about the lives of the saints before bedtime. I can’t remember her ever praying with me or teaching me to pray but I had a desire to know about God.


SCHOOLING
The first 4 years of my education were spent in a Government school, as this was the most convenient at the time. We then moved to an area, which was near to a Catholic school (CBC), and I was duly sent along. This as quite an experience for me as my standard 2 teacher, Mrs Bradley was a zealous Catholic. Prayers to Mary were said at the start and end of the day and between periods. Her large statue looked over the class from a pedestal on the sidewall and during the month of May candles were burnt to her and fresh flowers placed at her feet. Monday morning was traumatic if one had failed to attend Mass the previous day. “Who did not go to Mass yesterday? Why not? You know that it is a mortal sin to miss Mass?” I was terrified of this harrowing procedure and nagged my Mother to take me to Mass to miss this interrogation every Monday morning.

All the Catholic feast days, which fell during the week, were celebrated by the whole school at Saint Mary’s Church just two blocks down the hill from CBC. The day before, every class was sent to church so that confession could be heard by the priest thus enabling everyone to partake in Holy Communion. And so I was introduced to Roman Catholicism. We were taught that it is the only true Church and I was very grateful to be one of those who had the truth. I threw myself into it all and practised Catholicism from my heart with devotion to Mary and the Saints.

Then came the confirmation bombshell and I started questioning. “Why did I have to confess the same sins, say the same prayers for absolution and then go away and do the same things all over again? Why did I have to say to the Priest: ‘Bless me father for I have sinned’, surely it is God who alone forgives sin?”

At the end of standard 5 we again moved, this time to the first home to be owned by my parents. It was too far to commute to Christian Brothers College so I was again sent to a Government school. I had now thrown off allegiance to Roman Catholicism but there was a vacuum in my heart. I started reading what must have been the first of the flood of New Age literature. Lobsung Rampa and Dennis Wheatley. I tried Astral Projection without success. Then one day, as I was walking home from school with a friend, Philip Gerber, I was discussing these things with him. He turned to me and said, “ As far as I am concerned if you believe in that stuff you are rejecting Jesus Christ”. Wow! That struck home. I still believed in Jesus. I certainly did not want to reject Him and so I stopped reading Eastern Mysticism. I wasn’t a practicing Catholic anymore but I somehow separated between the failings of Roman Catholicism and Jesus Christ. He had not let me down. My reading of Eastern Mysticism had raised big questions and doubts in my mind about the person of Jesus Christ. I had gone over all His miracles in my mind to try and think of some way He could have faked them, or to try and think of some natural explanation. After much deliberation I was in checkmate. I could not come up with any reasonable or logical explanations for these great signs. Although I did not fully understand the person and the work of Jesus, I accepted that He had done all these miracles and was therefore worthy of some kind of attention.

Yet I was still a long way off from coming to know Him as Lord and Saviour, by yielding my life to Him. At this stage of my life I was very close to my older brother, Desmond who was extremely rebellious. Although I did not want to drop out I found the rebel image very attractive. Rock music became my god. Jimmy Hendrix was my hero. I spoke the language of the gutter. I tried smoking but didn’t like it. I tried Marijuana but it didn’t make me high. I tried drinking but I didn’t like not being in control of my limbs or getting violently sick. I didn’t know it but God had his hand on my life and was keeping me from going into full self-destruct mode.

I entered Matric, the final year of my schooling, with no direction in my life, more interested in girls than in schoolwork with no clue about a career. And I thought I was such a big deal, especially when with my friends discussing lust and vulgarity. One day right at the end of second break after leading my friends in discovering new depths in vulgarity, Henry Truebody drew up to me as we were walking to the lines and said, “Rob, why do you have to be like that?”

If he had hit me with a shovel, he couldn’t have had a greater impact on my life. I was speechless. I had no answer and I went to the lines wondering to myself, “Why do I have to be like this?” Henry Truebody was a Christian and I now believe it was God speaking through him to me, although I did not realise this at the time. My response to this was to start on a self-reformation programme and by the time I went for military training in the middle of the following year I had given up all swearing and vulgarity and had started praying again.


AIR FORCE GYMNASIUM VALHALLA PRETORIA
Military training was the best thing that happened to me. In a nutshell, during those 11 ½ months a desire for God and for study was placed into my heart. The sheer shock of being in such an adverse environment really shook me up to the very foundations of my being. It was like arriving on a different planet with a different set of rules and nothing in your previous life has given you any preparation for this strange and hostile place. Run, run, run, everything had to be done on the trot. Shout, shout, shout, nothing you ever did was correct. Eat, eat, eat, there was never enough food. Amazingly, Henry Truebody my friend, my buddy from school, was placed in the same bungalow, his bed was opposite mine!

During the first week at morning parade Henry’s name was called. He had been chosen to undergo a fitness test that day when we were relaxing. After that it was Physical Training and then a Corporal falsely accused him of a misdemeanour and made him report for punishment drill at the end of the day. It was as if all the troubles of Job were being visited upon him in one day. Henry was quite upset by these events and in the tea break he sat on his bed and took up his bible. As he opened the Bible his eye fell upon a very encouraging verse. This strengthened him so much that he went through that day rejoicing in the Lord. Boy! Was I impressed! I immediately started reading the bible but it made no sense to me. I had not yet met the Author.

During the first week of basic training a Church parade was held so that we could link up with the Chaplin’s from our respective Churches. Although I was nowhere spiritually I was still technically a Catholic. So off I went to meet the Catholic Chaplin. He was a very pleasant man but totally out of touch with my spiritual needs. I wanted to know how I could link up with God in this alien environment but he lovingly reassured us that we were welcome to come over on Tuesday evenings and play games such as chess and monopoly at the manse (how disgustingly shallow!). However, the following Tuesday evening a special speaker was coming, a Priest who would speak about life after death. Well at least that sounded interesting. The time came to go back to the bungalow and on my way back I met up with Henry and I told him about my disappointment with the Catholic Priest. He however, had something quite astounding to report. As a Protestant he had gone to the Free Churches Parade – a synonym for ‘Protestant’. Several hundred chaps were at the Church parade he attended. It was held in a hall and the guys were all very rowdy and noisy. The Chaplin had raised his voice and called for their attention and then said, “You can play the fool if you want but I am telling you that 2 or 3 chaps out of every intake end up dying before the end of their military training!” Henry continued his report, “After that you could have heard a pin drop!” Well when I heard that I nearly dropped. Suddenly the statistics of dying in this terrible place became uncomfortably vivid. 2 or 3 out of 1400 guys! It could be me! I felt I was staring death in the face. A realisation of my mortality and the fleeting nature of life were birthed in me there and then and it has never left me. The cannon of God had fired another salvo and each shell had found its target in my heart.

Tuesday rolled around and off I went to hear about this mystery of death and how to face it. The little Catholic Church in Voortrekkerhoogte was crowded to capacity. I was obviously not alone in my interest in the afterlife. The elderly Priest delivered his speech. It was all too neat and unconvincing. He spoke with absolutely no authority on the subject. Several people asked questions that he was not able to deal with very convincingly. Again I left the Catholic Church, spiritually hungry for reality, for truth, for God and I went away hungry, deflated, disillusioned. Perhaps one just had to do ones best, pray and do good works; perhaps one didn’t need this Church rigmarole?

One weekend before our 6-week basic training was completed and before we were allowed weekend passes, I went to visit another school friend who was also in our squadron, Michael Matthews. A book was laying on one of the beds in the bungalow. I loved reading and it looked interesting. ‘Run Baby Run,’ the story of Nicky Cruz, a gangster who turned to Christ. “Whom does this book belong to?” I asked. “No one, take it if you want it” came the reply. This book clearly relates how Nicky Cruz came to Christ and was ‘born again’. It was very attractive but not enough to convince me to cross the line and surrender myself to Jesus. Very soon we came to the end of our basic training and I started getting used to the army way of life. The stress I was experiencing lifted and with it the desire to get close to God.


MEDICAL TECHNOLOGY
I had finished school with no direction and no job. I was in the June intake for the Air Force Gymnasium and had 6 months to fill before this time. I took the first job that came along in order to earn some money – as a post office clerk! This was boring, meaningless work but a ray of light came unexpectedly into my directionless life. My brother was working at Groote Schuur Hospital as an orderly and mentioned that there were laboratories in the hospital where all the pathology tests were done. Now that sounded like something I would like to do. We made enquiries and an interview was set up for me during my 7-day pass in Cape Town. My Matric results were dismal but Prof Uys seemed interested when I told him about the microscope I had owned since a child and that I used to skin animals and dissect them to see what went on inside. Besides, those were the days when males were considered of some worth because they were not likely to fall pregnant and thus seemed a bit more reliable than women in the work place. And so I got the job! I started as a trainee medical technologist 2 weeks after finishing my military training.

Spiritually I was still in self-reformation mode, saying a prayer on the way to work and keeping my tongue in check. For the first time in my life I was motivated to study and I immersed myself in my work and thoroughly enjoyed it. I was amazed to find that an old classmate of mine from CBC, Reginald Linden, was also doing medical technology. He introduced me to a good friend of his, Peter Rossouw. I had been connected with the next link in the chain of my spiritual destiny. Peter and myself were instant friends. We both loved the outdoors and all the intricacies of nature. Peter’s older brother, Dean, had recently become a Christian, a Jesus freak, as they were known then. We discussed it in length and decided that certain people needed a crutch in life but we weren’t into that religious stuff.
FROM HERE TO ETERNITY
We left it at that but within 3 months Peter came to work after a weekend and started telling everyone he had been converted. We had some heated discussions about it but remained close friends. Little did I realise it but Peter was earnestly praying for me. Someone once said that Peter is like a puppy dog. This is a very apt description of his enthusiasm and Peter was very enthusiastic about serving God. It was like all his natural enthusiasm had been soaked in petrol and set alight.

After finishing my military training I had visited several church services of different denominations with my girl friend. There was nothing striking about any of the churches we visited. We didn’t visit the church Peter went to because it was at the opposite end of Cape Town and I did not have a car yet. I had been going out with my girlfriend since I was in standard 9 and all my spare time was spent with her. On one occasion Peter invited me to a special meeting in the 3 Arts theatre. I quite enjoyed the contemporary gospel music at the beginning of the service and I was feeling quite relaxed and at ease when the preacher got up to speak. Nothing in my previous experience of Churches prepared me for what was to follow. Roger Voke preached with passion, great power and clarity. I had never heard preaching like that before in my life and I was overwhelmed. He preached a totally uncompromising message that if one did not accept Jesus it was the same as choosing the devil. I knew that his message applied to me, as I had not yet asked Jesus into my life. As the bible says in 1 John 5:12:He who has the Son has life; he who does not have the Son of God does not have life. But I was glued to my seat during the altar call. I stubbornly resisted the call of God that came to me that night. Peter couldn’t wait to ask me what I had thought of the meeting and started quizzing me as we drove out of the parking area. To try and cover up my true feelings about the message I attacked the preacher; “Why did he have to shout like that? That was totally unnecessary!” Peter was crestfallen at my response but as he drove me home I realized that I really had no excuse. I finally understood the truth I had been looking for so long. For the first time in my life I knew what God expected of me but I drew back. As it turned out, my life was to take an unexpected turn before I was ripe for the kingdom of God.

About 3 months later my girlfriend and I had a big argument. We had gone to a movie one Wednesday night and she insisted on having a cigarette. There was just no way that I was going to have a girlfriend who smoked. I laid down an ultimatum which I thought would bring her into line; “If you are not going to give up smoking then we have to break up.” To my surprise, she insisted that if she could not smoke then she did not want to go out with me anymore. Both our parents had expected us to eventually get married but now it was all over.
At first I was not too upset by this turn of events as I thought she would change her mind after a few days.

Friday night and I was at home and bored. Normally I would have been with my girlfriend but now I was at a loose end. What could I do? Suddenly I had a brain wave. Peter was always asking me to come to the Friday night meeting at the Assembly of God church in Pinelands. Anything was better than being at home on a Friday evening. I phoned Peter. His voice betrayed his astonishment: “Hi Rob. Really? Sure, I’ll pick you up in ½ an hour!” As we drove to the meeting Peter enthusiastically spoke about the meetings and serving the Lord etc. and I started to have second thoughts but it was too late to get out of it now.


NEW LIFE IN CHRIST
It was August 1974 and the Assemblies of God movement was growing rapidly and new churches were being planted as many young people turned to Jesus Christ. This was a world–wide phenomena that followed the Hippy era of searching for truth and reality in drugs, sex and mysticism. About 30 young people from the Pinelands area had been converted and so a new church was started in the little, thatched Girl-guide hall.

There was a buzz of activity as ex-hippies, surfers with golden locks and high school kids were gathering for the meeting. There was excitement in the air and a spontaneous friendliness that was not put on or overbearing. I was greeted and welcomed by many. Then the meeting started with some songs of praise. This was now truly amazing. As I watched them lift up their hands in worship and devotion to God I felt that I was in the company of people who truly knew God personally and if I desired, anyone of them could introduce me to Him! I had been to many church services but not one of them compared to this simple little meeting in the Girl-guide hall. Here was true spiritual life, Godliness and New Testament Christianity and although I probably wouldn’t have verbalized it like this at the time – I had finally come home. I did not make a public profession of Faith right away but in my customary fashion, I thoroughly checked it out. About 10 days later I went forward to sign my surrender to Jesus Christ in prayer.

The first thing that changed in my life after that first meeting was that the Bible became a new book to me. I had been trying to read it for several weeks but it made no sense to me. That night I opened my Bible and I understood what I was reading. From then on I could not get enough of the Bible. I would spend hours reading it. I would read it in the bus on the way to and from work. I kept a little pocket-bible in my shirt pocket so that whenever an opportunity presented itself I could make the most of it by reading the word of God. During this time I realized that things between my girlfriend and myself were finally over and I was devastated. I cried my eyes out and read my soul full and found that Jesus was my burden bearer. His words came alive in my heart as He said to me; "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light." (Matthew 11:28-30). I remember arriving a little late at the meeting one evening. I was under a black cloud of depression as I got into the Girl-guide hall grounds but as the song of praise from the meeting drifted out to me it was instantly broken. Depression is a family illness and I was firmly in its grip before I came to Christ. About three weeks after my conversion one of the young men (Charles Spilhaus) came up to me and said: “I just want to tell you that your whole face has changed since you became a Christian. I remember the first night you came because you had such a look of heaviness in your face but now you look like a different person.”

The AOG in those days based their meeting structure on Acts 2:42: Bible study, prayer, breaking of bread and the Gospel meeting. This was just what I needed to get over my spiritual anorexia. Jesus Christ had come into my life, of that I was assured but I still had to learn what it was all about. I learnt what God thought about my reformed lifestyle, my prayers and my attempts to be good as stated in the book of the prophet, Isaiah: ‘All of us have become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous acts are like filthy rags; we all shrivel up like a leaf, and like the wind our sins sweep us away’ (Isaiah 64:4).

That was a shock. When I was a Catholic, good deeds were strongly encouraged. I now had to remould my thinking according to the Bible and its clear teaching is that you must come to Christ first because: ‘all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God’ (Romans 3:23) ‘and: the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord’ (Romans 6:23). The issue of our sin must first be dealt with by believing in Jesus because He died on the cross on our behalf and took the punishment for our sin. ‘But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us’ (Romans 5:8).

The fact that Jesus came to die for the sin of man was prophesied 800 years before His birth by the prophet Isaiah (Isaiah 53:5-6):
‘But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed.
We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to his own way;
and the LORD has laid on him the iniquity of us all.’

By trusting in His righteousness and not our own we are forgiven and become the children of God as stated in John 1:12-13: ‘Yet to all who received him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God-- children born not of natural descent, nor of human decision or a husband's will, but born of God.’ And to those who believe, God has made the glorious promise of eternal life: ‘For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life’.
(John 3:16).

I had always found church to be like breakfast, something you got out of the way as quickly as possible on a Sunday morning so that you could get on and enjoy the day. To my surprise I found the church that met in the Girl-guide hall to be unique. There was no clergy-laity split. Everyone was involved according to their gifts in preaching, public prayer, outreach etc. Here was a church I could get involved in! They recognized that every member was just as important to God as the minister; everyone’s contribution was valuable. Many times we experienced the wonderful presence of God in those meetings.

The wheel had turned full circle. I was finally in the place my heart had longed for from the time of my confirmation in the Catholic Church. My search for the truth about life, death and eternity had been answered.


CONCLUSION
I have recorded my testimony because today, nearly 26 years after my conversion, I am still awestruck by these events in my life. God has been very merciful to me. I don’t know where my aimless life would have led to without His intervention. Secondly, I am hoping that God would be able to use this simple story to help others find the way to Him who is the Way, the Truth and the Life. I am also concerned for Catholics. Especially my relatives who have everything in life except the main ingredient. I know that there are many Catholics who have a desire to serve God but because His truth has been covered over by so many centuries of tradition they do not know the way. May God use this testimony to touch their hearts and bring them into the truth about Jesus Christ.


Oh, the depth of the riches of the wisdom and knowledge of God!
How unsearchable his judgments, and his paths beyond tracing out!
"Who has known the mind of the Lord?
Or who has been his counselor?"
"Who has ever given to God, that God should repay him?"
For from him and through him and to him are all things.
To him be the glory forever! Amen.
(Romans 11:33-36)



24 June 2000