Raison d'etre

This French phrase means "reason for being." The connotation is a personal, philosophical belief supporting one's actions. Duty to country should be the raison d'etre for seeking elected office, whether or not this is true for most; "to protect and serve" is the raison d'etre for being a policeman. Make sense?

We will come back to this at the end.

Today, I'd like to take you on a brief journey into my own personal faith life--my own raison d'etre.

I've been a committed Christian my whole life, but only in the past 3 years have I become intensely interested in Theology, and there are very simple reasons for that. Three years ago, I began dating the woman who would eventually become my wife. That woman was Catholic. I didn't know how to best reconcile myself to that, as a 98% Pentecostal and 100% Fundamentalist Christian (so a Myspace quiz told me), but I figured the best way to do it was to vociferously find out everything about Catholic Theology. With this goal, I originally figured one of the following three things would happen:

a) I would prove Catholicism to be a false (or at least inferior) faith, and Rebecca would leave the Catholic church for my church.
b) We would both stay in our respective faith upbringings, and somehow manage to make our family work (yeeeeeeeeah). At least I would understand her better.
or
c) I would eventually become convinced that Catholic Theology was right, and become Catholic.

I think it goes without saying that I in no way thought possibility 'c' was a possibility at all. While 'a' would have most gratified my ego, I was realistic enough to know think that the most likely option was 'b.' I was not, however, realistic enough to know that 'b,' is pretty much impossible, especially when you take the rearing of children into account.

"Brevity is the soul of wit," so for times' sake, imagine a two-year montage, which shows me continuously learning about new Catholic theologies, being flabbergasted by them, passionately confronting Rebecca about them with awesome logic and scriptural support, Rebecca crying, and us being left nowhere.

Plain and simple: the stuff did not make sense to me. Once in a while, a moment would come and I would understand a scripture in a different light, or the practical merit behind a teaching, but in general, this did not motivate me to study Theology--a desire to settle this matter as quickly and thoroughly as possible motivated me.

By the way, we had a long distance relationship. When she was with me, we would attend my Assembly of God church and church events, and when I visited her, we would do Catholic things instead. During this time, I was also meeting her very Catholic extended family, whom I came to have a lot of affection for. Come the 1-1/2 year mark, my soul was in turmoil. I bore this burden almost entirely alone (though Christ was always there for me, to share the burden with his love and assurance), and for my friends who are reading this, I want to apologize for not sharing this with you. I just couldn't. I was afraid of what people would say, and too much in flux to articulate what I was feeling. I'm sorry for keeping this from everyone, but it was what had to be done. Now, what was the turmoil? I was torn between a church that made sense to me, though I didn't always feel at home there, and a church that, even though it didn't make sense to me, began to feel more and more like a home. I'm a strong believer in absolutes (even if that absolute is moderate), and thus, this was particularly trying. The overall message of this, and what I finally became sure of in October of 2008, was that God himself was calling me to become a Catholic.

The time of turmoil was waxing, and now began the time of preparation. If I was going to do this, I needed to do it without holding back. If I didn't believe certain Catholic Theologies, I at least needed to understand them.

The beauty of being a Catholic is that there is a hierarchy of teachings, and most of what is required for all Catholics to profess/believe is stuff that most Christians could agree on. From there down, the Catholic church has almost infinite ideas and official teachings, but the "primacy of conscience" is what is most important. This is the idea that, if you look into certain theologies with an open heart, pray about them, and still cannot come to believe them, you must follow the dictates of your conscience. Primacy of conscience is not a license, but a responsibility; you must educate your faith in order to claim primacy of conscience.

So I continued to study Theology, now with the perspectives of a number of strong Catholic-Christians to take into account (those who are a part of my Confirmation classes). Between various books, the Vatican's website, Wikipedia, The Catechism of the Catholic Church, essays by scholars, and official church documents, I've read a lot of Theology. I've come to be known among the people in the RCIA process as quite the Bible scholar and theologian, but here's the thing: when I consider my own faith life, how I live, and what I want to be known for, it's not Theology.

One of the things I greatly admire is when a truly great mind is great enough to know that it knows little. The same can be said of those who have done great deeds, and view themselves in true humility.

-George Washington, the father of our country, did not seek the greatness he is known for, nor did he even want it, preferring his farm and his solitude.
-I've been told that shortly before he was assassinated, Dr. Martin Luther King privately spoke of his desire to scale back his civil rights work, and return to being a pastor and a Christian teacher.
-Thomas Aquinas, who lived in the 13th century, is still known to this day as one of the greatest theologians in History. His writings on Theology and Philosophy are still studied by people of many different denominations, religions, and political worldviews. Aquinas' most famous work, Summa Theologica, could be described in modern terms as Everything You Ever Wanted To Know About . . . God. Near the end of his life, I think he began to truly understand what his works and writings were, when he called it all "straw."


I don't want to be known for what is obvious and external--the breadth of what I know (which really isn't much)--but what is not obvious or external: my unshakable faith in God, my love for Christ, and my desire to pray to, with, and in him. Now, my study of Theology has deepened my faith, certainly, and I hope and pray that my insufficient thoughts and writings convey that faith, but ultimately, Theology is not my chief end.

The Westminster Shorter Catechism is a series of 107 questions that are intended to prove one's faith. The very first question and answer read:

Q: What is the chief end of man?
A: Man's chief end is to glorify God, and to enjoy him for ever.

My raison d'etre is my faith, and my love for the Lord. Everything else is straw.

I am now nearing the end of the initiation process, and will soon be able to call myself a Pentecostal-Catholic. I still study Theology, but not for the original "a,b, and c" reasons. Now I study Theology so that, when the day of my initiation comes, I will be able to make the profession of Catholic faith honestly, and without reservation. This does not mean that I agree with everything the Catholic Church teaches--far from it. I study Theology so that I have the right to claim "primacy of conscience;" so that my profession of faith is honest.

After three years, I am tired of Theology. I look forward to the day when I no longer need to study it so intensely. I wish only to work my way through Theology so that I may return to my simple, firm faith in God the Father, his son Jesus, and the Holy Spirit of truth. Theological understanding has not been the goal, but a means to an end. The end has been an honest profession of Catholic faith.

With that goal met, my life will return to my raison d'etre: my faith, my love.

Everything else is straw.