Note. Dr. Ellison this title is not completely mine. I am not that sharp. The husband of the family I am living with used it when he first heard I might go from baptist to catholic. If you have to take off points I will understand.


From Nashville to Rome

I was brought up a baptist. I went to church almost every sunday. When I was nine I was saved. I was not sure what that meant, I thought it meant I would not go to hell. To be a christian was not to smoke, not to dance, not to cuss, not to do bad things to yourself like self abuse. A lot of times I felt like the preacher was looking straight at me, because I had done all of these things by fifteen.

As I got older I begin to not go church if I could think of an excuse. I would say I was sick, or I hurtt my arm in the friday night football game. Then my older brother got in trouble, they call it joy riding, taking another persons car. I felt bad. Maybe he was in trouble because I was not good. So I tried to be better and better but I only got worse and worse as I wrote before.

My friend Glenn had a great uncle in the nearby big city and I visited Jack and his wife Alice many times. Alice was catholic and Jack was epispocalian. Jack did not go to church much but Alice went every week. She never ask us to go with her to church but we decided one weekend to go with her. We had heard catholics spoke in a foreing speech, that they wore long robes, used insense, and thought Mary was God. We were really surprised. We understood every word, they spoke in English and I can not remember them saying Mary was God. We went back to that church many times with Alice. At the end of the service the people would line up to take communion. Everybody lined up. A man they said was the richest man in the city and some poor mexicans. They seemed to be all the same. We ask Alice if we could get in the line. She said you cannot take communion but you can go up and the priest will bless you. We did and for some reason when the minister put his hand on my head and said "God bless you" that made me feel good. So we decided we wanted to be catholics. We especially liked the sermons. They were about helping others and not just about clean living.
When I told Jack what I was thinking he said "so you want to go from Nashville to Rome." I did not understand but he explained that the baptist headquarters was in Nashville and the catholic headquarters was in Rome. I wanted to make the trip.
I like the baptist. They have some great songs. "Blessed assurance Jesus is mine, o what a fortaste of glory devine" and my favorite" Just as I am without one plead, but that they blood was shed for me." I think the plead meant excuse.
Another thing happened which I will tell later. But I joined what they call a rcia class. I am still in the class, but one thing scared me. About a month ago a priest I did not know called me out of class and said"are you sure you want to be catholic or are you just being nice to Alice?" I did not know if he was telling me not to come back. My famly was going to Texas for thanksgiving so I did not know whether to go with them or stay for class. I wrote a guy on the internet and he said stay and go to class. On thansgiving morning a priest who had helped me once, I will tell later how he helped me, called and ask Jack if he could come by for just a couple of minutes. I knew he was going to tell me not to come back. He came by and said he was looking forward to me at the class, then he gave me a little prayer book, put his hand on my head and said "Frank, God lives you." Before he had always said God bless you. Jack and Alice and I all noticed the difference.
So I guess I am on the road to Rome. I really want to get there. I think I will be better and happy. Frank