Rome Sweet Home

by Kimberly Hahn

  ROME SWEET HOME

  Scott and Kimberly Hahn. July, 1993.

  Rome Sweet Home

  OUR JOURNEY TO CATHOLICISM

  Scott and Kimberly Hahn

  IGNATIUS PRESS SAN FRANCISCO

  Cover art: The Vatican, Rome

  © Vladimir Pcholkin / FPG International

  Cover design by Riz Boncan Marsella

  © 1993 Ignatius Press

  All rights reserved

  ISBN 0-89870-478-2

  Library of Congress control number 93-79336

  Printed in the United States of America

  CONTENTS

  Foreword by Peter Kreeft

  Preface

  Introduction

  1 From the Cradle to Christ

  2 From Ministry to Marriage

  3 New Conceptions of the Covenant

  4 Teaching and Living die Covenant as Family

  5 Scott’s Search for the Church

  6 One Comes Home to Rome

  7 The Struggles of a Mixed Marriage

  8 A Rome-antic Reunion

  9 Catholic Family Life

  Conclusion

  With gratitude to God for our parents

  Jerry and Patricia Kirk

  Molly Lou Hahn

  and in loving memory of Fred Hahn

  Thanks for the gifts of life and love,

  a privilege to honor you as son and daughter.

  With gratitude to God for our children

  Michael Scott

  Gabriel Kirk

  Hannah Lorraine

  Jeremiah Thomas Walker

  You are Gods gifts of life and love,

  making us a family.

  It’s a joy to be your mom and dad.

  Foreword

  One of the beautiful and bright-shining stars in the firmament of hope for our desperate days is this couple, Scott and Kimberly Hahn, and this story of their life and their conversion. It is one of increasingly many such stories that seem to be springing up today throughout the Church in America like crocuses poking up through the spring snows.

  All conversion stories are different—like snowflakes, like fingerprints. But all are dramatic. The only story even more dramatic than conversion to Christ’s Church is the initial conversion to Christ himself. But these two dramas—becoming a Christian and becoming a Catholic—are two steps in the same process and in the same direction, like being born and growing up. This book is an excellent illustration of that truth.

  Because of the intrinsic drama of its subject—man’s quest for his Creator and his for him—all conversion stories are worth listening to. But not all arrest you and sweep you along like a powerful river as this one does. I can think of four reasons for the un-put-down-able-ness of this book.

  First, the authors are simply very bright, clear-thinking and irrefutably reasonable. I would hate to be an anti-Catholic in debate against these two!

  Second, they are passionately in love with Truth and with honesty. They are incapable of fudging anything except fudge.

  Third, they write with clarity and simplicity and charity and grace and wit and enthusiasm and joy.

  Fourth, they are winsome and wonderful people who share themselves as well as the treasure they have found. When you meet them in the pages of this book, you will meet that indefinable but clearly identifiable quality of trustability. The Hebrews called it emeth. When you touch them, you know you touch truth.

  There are also religious reasons for this book’s power.

  One is its evident love of Christ. It’s as simple as that.

  Another is its love and knowledge of Scripture. I know no Catholics in the world who know and use their Bible better.

  A third is their Christlike combination of traditional biblical and Catholic orthodoxy with modern personalism and sensitivity—in other words, love of truth and of people, both the subject and the student. This double love is the primary secret of great teachers.

  Finally, there is their theological focus on the family, both biological and spiritual (the Church as family). This doctrine, like each item of the Church’s wisdom, gets defined and appreciated most clearly when threatened by heresies that deny it. Today this fundamental foundation of all human and divine society is under attack and seems to be dying before our eyes. Here are two warriors in the army of Saint Michael the Archangel as he counterattacks old Screwtape’s latest invasion. The tide of battle is turning, and the Church’s sea of wisdom is readying itself to flood and wash our land of its defilement. Scott and Kimberly are two early waves of that cleansing tide.

  There are no tapes more in demand and more extensively and enthusiastically shared among American Catholics today than the Hahn tapes. Now we have the full version of their story. It will be met with spiritual mouths as open as those of young robins.

  PETER KREEFT

  Preface

  The late Archbishop Fulton Sheen once wrote: “There are not over a hundred people in the United States who hate the Roman Catholic Church; there are millions, however, who hate what they wrongly believe to be the Catholic Church.”

  Both of us once thought that we belonged in the former group, only to discover that we were really in the latter. But once we saw the distinction, and where we really were, it slowly became apparent that we did not belong in either group. By then we were well on our way home. This book describes that journey. It is a narrative of how we discovered the Catholic Church to be God’s covenant family.

  Our focus in this book is on how the Holy Spirit used Scripture to clear up our misconceptions; we have not attempted to deal with all the misconceptions that others may have. By God’s grace maybe someday we can write a book with that in mind.

  This story could not have been written except for Terry Barber of Saint Joseph Communications, West Covina, California, who generously provided a notebook computer along with many different tapes of our talks for Kimberly to transcribe and edit into a readable form. Incidentally, she did all of her work upstairs, where three children and a toddler were roaming about, while Scott was tucked away in a quiet corner of the basement working to complete his doctoral dissertation, “Kinship by Covenant”. By his own admission, Scott’s authorial absenteeism accounts for whatever obtuseness remains.

  G. K. Chesterton once said, “If something is really worth doing. . . it’s worth doing badly!” That explains our reason for—and consolation in—taking the risk to share our journey in print at this very busy time of our lives.

  Scott and Kimberly Hahn

  Feast of Saints Peter and Paul

  June 29, 1993

  Introduction

  We thank God for the grace of our conversion to Jesus Christ and the Catholic Church which he founded; for it is only by the most amazing grace of God that we could ever have found our way home.

  I, Scott, thank God for Kimberly, the second most amazing grace in my life. She is the one whom God used to reveal to me the reality of his covenant family; and while I am enthralled with the theory, Kimberly puts it into practice, joyfully serving as the channel for God’s third most amazing graces: Michael, Gabriel, Hannah and Jeremiah, The Lord has used these forenamed graces to help this bumbling biblical detective (the “Columbo of Theology”) crack the case of Catholicism—by coming home.

  In truth, the journey began as a detective story, but soon it became more like a horror story, until it finally ended up as a great romance story—when Christ unveiled his Bride, the Church. (By the way, it would help to keep these three story types in mind as you read.)

  I, Kimberly, thank God for my beloved husband, Scott. He has taken seriously God’s call to nourish me with the Word of God and to cherish me by the grace of God (Eph 5:29). He has paved the way for our family to be received into the Church by lay
ing down his life—education, dreams, career—for us, because he followed Christ no matter what the cost.

  As with Scott’s pilgrimage, mine altered in tone and color as it progressed, like the change of seasons. Little did I know how long it would be from summer to spring.

  The Hahn family, 1975. Scott is in top right corner.

  1

  From the Cradle to Christ

  Scott:

  I was the youngest of three Hahn children born to Molly Lou and Fred Hahn. Baptized a Presbyterian, I was raised in a nominal Protestant home. Church and religion played a small role in my life and for my family, and then mostly for social reasons rather than any deep convictions.

  I recall the last time I ever attended our family’s church. The minister was preaching all about his doubts regarding the Virgin Birth of Jesus and his bodily Resurrection. I just stood up in the middle of his sermon and walked out. I remember thinking, I’m not sure what I believe, but at least I’m honest enough not to stand up and attack the things I’m supposed to teach. I also wondered, Why doesn’t the man just leave his ministry in the Presbyterian church and go wherever his beliefs are held? Little did I know that I had witnessed a portent of my own future.

  Whatever I did, I did it with passion, whether right or wrong. A typical teenager, I lost all interest in the church and became very interested in the world. Consequently, I soon found myself in deep trouble; labeled a delinquent, I had to appear in juvenile court. Faced with a yearlong sentence to a detention center for a variety of charges, I barely lied my way out of the sentence and into six months of probation instead. Unlike my best friend,

  Dave, I was scared of where things were headed. I knew things had to change. My life was headed downhill fast, and I was out of control.

  I noticed that Dave was nonchalant. I knew that he was a Catholic, but when he boasted about lying to the priest in confession, I thought I’d heard it all. Talk about hypocrisy! All I could say was, “Dave, I’m sure glad that I’ll never have to confess my sins to a priest.” Little did I know.

  My first year of high school the Lord brought into my life a university student named Jack. He was a leader in Young Life, a parachurch ministry founded to share the gospel with hard-core, unchurched kids, like me and my friends. Jack became a good friend, and our relationship meant a lot to me. He’d shoot hoops and hang out with us after school and then give us rides home in his van.

  After getting to know me, Jack invited me to a Young Life meeting. I politely said, “Thanks, but no thanks.” I had no intention of going to some religious meeting, even if it wasn’t church.

  Then Jack mentioned that a certain girl named Kathy was coming. He must have known that Kathy happened to be the girl I was trying to hustle at the rime; so I told him, “I’ll think about it.” Then he went on to say that one of the finest guitarists in Pittsburgh, a fellow named Walt, played at their meetings and stuck around afterward to jam with any interested guitar players. That year, as Jack well knew, guitar had practically become my religion, replacing less worthwhile pursuits. At least, now I could offer my friends a valid excuse for going to Young Life.

  So I went. I talked to Kathy awhile, and I jammed with Walt, who was truly amazing on the guitar. He even showed me a few licks. The next week I was back—and the next and the next.

  Each week Jack would give a talk in which he made one of the gospel stories about Jesus come to life. Then he’d challenge us with the basic message of the gospel: we were sinners in need of salvation, and Christ died on the Cross to pay for our sins. We had to choose him as our personal Lord and Savior to be saved—it wasn’t automatic. I listened, but I wasn’t very impressed.

  About a month later Jack asked me to go on a retreat. I said, “No, thanks, I’ve got other plans!” Then he told me that Kathy would be there—for the whole weekend. Smart guy. My “other plans” could wait.

  The retreat speaker presented the gospel in a simple but challenging way. On the first night he said, “Take a look at the Cross. And if you are tempted to treat your sins lightly, I want you to take a hard, long look.” He made me realize for the first time that, yes, my sins were what put Jesus on the Cross.

  The next night he challenged us in another way. He said, “If you are tempted to treat the love of God lightly, look again at the Cross, because it’s God’s love that sent Christ there for you.” Up to that point I had thought of God’s love as sentimental. But the Cross is anything but sentimental.

  The man then called us to make a commitment to Christ. I saw a number of my peers all around respond, but I held back. I thought, I don’t want to get all caught up in the emotion. I’ll wait. If this stuff is true tonight, it’ll be true in a month. So I went home, postponing any decision to commit my life to Christ.

  I had purchased two books on the retreat. One night, a month later, I read Know Why You Believe, by Paul Little, all the way through and sections of C. S. Lewis’ Mere Christianity. These books answered many of my questions about things like evolution, the existence of God, the possibility of miracles, the Resurrection of Jesus and the reliability of Scripture. Around two in the morning, I turned off the light, rolled over and prayed, “Lord Jesus, I am a sinner. I believe you died to save me. I want to give my life to you right now. Amen.”

  I went to sleep. There were no angel choirs, trumpet blasts or even a rush of emotions. It all seemed so uneventful—but the next morning, when I saw the two books, I remembered my decision and prayer. I knew something was different.

  My friends also noticed something was different. My best friend, Dave, who was one of the most popular kids in school, found out I wasn’t willing to do dope any more. He took me aside and said, “Scott, no offense, but we don’t want you hanging around with us any more. Me and the guys think you’re a narc.”

  I said, “C’mon, Dave, you know I’m not a narc.”

  “Well, we don’t know what you are, but you’ve changed and we don’t want you around any more. Have a nice life!” And off they went.

  I was stunned. About a month after making this commitment to Christ, I found myself alone, without a friend in the high school. I felt betrayed. I turned to God and said, “Lord, I gave you my life and you’ve taken away my friends. What kind of deal is this?”

  Though I couldn’t have known it at the time, God was calling me to sacrifice something that stood in the way of my relationship to him. It was hard and slow, but over the next two years I developed solid friendships that were real and true.

  Before finishing my sophomore year, I experienced the transforming power of God’s grace in conversion. Within the next year, I experienced a special outpouring of the Holy Spirit in a personal and life-changing way. As a result, I acquired an insatiable hunger for Scripture. I fell head over heels in love with the Word of God—the inerrant, infallible guide to our life as Christians—and with the study of theology,

  I devoted the last two years of high school to playing the guitar and studying Scripture. Jack and his friend Art taught me Scripture. Art even brought me along to some of his seminary classes with Dr. John Gerstner in my senior year.

  I decided the figures in Christian history who most appealed to me—and the ones Jack and Art were always talking about—were the great Protestant reformers Martin Luther and John Calvin. I first studied how Martin Luther rediscovered the gospel, or so I thought, completely separating himself from the Catholic Church. I began to devour his works.

  As a consequence, I became very strong in my anti-Catholic convictions. I was so firmly convinced that for Miss Dengler’s English class in high school I decided to write my senior research paper on Luther’s views. As a result, I had a mission to correct and to liberate Catholics bound up with unbiblical works-righteousness legalism. Luther had convinced me that Catholics believed they were saved by their works but that the Bible taught justification by faith alone, or sola fide.

  Luther once declared from the pulpit that he could commit adultery one hundred times in a day and it w
ould not affect his justification before God. Obviously this was rhetorical, but it made an impact on me. And I shared it with a lot of my Catholic friends.

  Let’s face it, anti-Catholicism can be a very reasonable thing. If the wafer Catholics worship is not Christ (and I was convinced it was not), then it is idolatrous and blasphemous to do what Catholics do in bowing before and worshiping the Eucharist. I was convinced of this, and I did my level best to share this. Please understand, my ardent anti-Catholicism sprang from a zeal for God and a charitable desire to help Catholics be Christians. And it was the Catholics who could outdrink and outswear me before I became a Christian, so I knew how much help they needed.

  I was dating a Catholic at the time. I shared with her what is considered to be the bible of anti-Catholicism—a book I now believe to be filled with misrepresentations and lies about the Church—entitled Roman Catholicism, by Lorraine Boettner. My girlfriend read it and later wrote me a note thanking me for it, saying she’d never go back to Mass again. I later gave away copies to many other friends. I thanked God I could be used in that way, in all sincerity and blindness.

  Grandma Hahn was the only Catholic on either side of the family. She was a quiet, humble and holy soul. Since I was the only “religious one” in the family, my father gave me her religious articles when she died. I looked at them with disgust and horror. I held her Rosary in my hands and ripped it apart, saying, “God, set her free from the chains of Catholicism that have bound her.” I also tore apart her prayer books and threw them away, hoping this superstitious nonsense had not trapped her soul. I had been trained to regard this as excess baggage that humans invented to complicate a very simple, saving gospel. (I am not proud of having done these things, but I share them to point out how deeply and sincerely Bible Christians hold their anti-Catholic convictions.) I wasn’t anti-Catholic in a bigoted way—I was anti-Catholic by conviction.