Rome Sweet Home

by Kimberly Hahn

  After my three and a half years of searching out like-minded souls, my meeting with Karl and Pat felt like an oasis. Saturday afternoon at the Catholic Answers office, I hastily typed an outline of the talk I would give for the evening seminar. It was to be an hour-long testimony of my conversion to the Catholic Faith, followed by questions and answers. The talk was similar to one I had given a dozen times before; but this time it turned out to be different from any other. It was to become “The Tape” (otherwise known as “Protestant Minister Becomes Catholic”),

  Ten minutes before I started, I was introduced to Terry Barber of Saint Joseph Communications, who was hastily assembling some tape-recording equipment for my talk. As he set up the microphone, he explained to me how he and his brand-new bride, Danielle, had just arrived back from their honeymoon in Fatima, Portugal. He also explained his lateness; he had recorded talks at five separate locations that day. Terry made it seem it was a last-minute decision even to show up for my talk. At the time, it didn’t really matter to me; later on, we were both eternally grateful.

  At 7:30 sharp, I was introduced to a small group of thirty-five people. After talking for over an hour—I have never ended anything on time—I took a short break and got back up for the Q & A session. When it was all over, I walked toward the back to talk with Pat.

  While we were talking, Terry Barber came running up waving a copy of a cassette tape. “God is going to use this tape, my friend, I just know it.”

  I was pleased to see him so excited, but since I had given the same talk on so many other occasions when it had been taped, I did not think anything of it. I even thought to myself: How unprepared I was tonight; other times it was much better. Maybe that’s why our Lord chose to use this particular talk in such a powerful way—since no one could take any of the credit but him.

  I flew back home to Joliet and told Kimberly all about the weekend with Catholic Answers. I never bothered to tell her about the evening seminar. It still didn’t seem all that significant. I was back to teaching my classes the next day.

  A few weeks passed before I heard again from Terry Barber. He phoned to tell me that he had been sending out dozens of free copies of the tape to various Catholic leaders and groups across the country. Terry reported that he was getting a wonderful response.

  Little did I know; that tape would change both of our lives—and one of our wives!

  “No wonder”, I said. “What would you expect from such entrepreneurial effort? Terry, I think you have the determination of an apostle.”

  I discovered that a copy had been sent to Catholic evangelist Father Ken Roberts, who listened to it and immediately ordered five thousand copies, which he then began distributing around the country. Father Ken’s mention of the tape over EWTN opened the way for me to appear as a guest on “Mother Angelica, Live” several months later.

  Karl and Pat both warned me. “Scott, very shortly your life is going to speed up and get very busy.”

  They were right; they were also partly to blame. One of our first cooperative ventures came shortly after “The Tape” was made. Catholic Answers sponsored a three-hour public debate between me and Dr. Robert Knudsen, Professor of Systematic Theology and Apologetics at Westminster Theological Seminary. During the first half of the evening, we debated sola scriptura; for the second half, sola fide. I have to confess to feeling more than a little fear in preparing to debate a world-class scholar on the two momentous issues dividing Protestants and Catholics.

  I never dreamed of such a positive outcome. Not only did the Westminster Seminary students in attendance express their surprise and excitement at the end, but, what was more important, as soon as I returned home, Kimberly turned on a cassette player to listen to the entire debate. Three hours later, she sat there staring in stunned amazement. All she could say was, “I can’t believe what I’ve just heard.”

  I was thrilled. I wasted no time, handing her a copy of “The Tape”. It was the first time she had heard my testimony since I had become a Catholic.

  Things kept speeding up. I got a call from Dr. Alan Schreck, then chairman of the theology department at Franciscan University of Steubenville. He told me about an opening in the department for the following academic year, 1990-1991, and suggested that I send him my resume. I wasted no time in sending it off.

  A couple of years before, Franciscan University had sponsored a conference on marriage and the family. 1 went out with Phil Sutton, a good friend and colleague who was teaching psychology at the College of Saint Francis at the time. Following the conference, during our drive home, we recalled how Jewish people around the world have a saying, “Next year in Jerusalem.” Jokingly, Phil and I developed a new Catholic saying for ourselves, “Next year in Steubenville.” The following year Phil left the College of Saint Francis to begin teaching at Franciscan University of Steubenville; he was hired to start their M.A. program in counseling. Now I was being considered the following year. Little had we known that the Lord would interpret a cute saying as a prayer.

  When I told Kimberly about the opportunity, I reminded her of my experience at worship there. I told her about the university’s pro-life commitment, from their president, Father Michael Scanlan, down to the faculty and students. I informed her that Franciscan University had more than a hundred students majoring in theology—more than Catholic University or Notre Dame—plus a Master of Arts program in theology, with a concentration in marriage and family. For the first time in more than five years, we were praying again with one heart.

  Over Christmas we drove to Steubenville for the initial interview with Father Scanlan and Dr. Schreck. The day before we left, Kimberly suffered a second miscarriage. I was crushed, she was devastated. Near the end of his interview with both of us, Kimberly told him about what had just happened. She then asked him—a Catholic priest!—to pray over her. Without a moment’s hesitation, he stood up and walked out from behind his desk, placed his hands upon her shoulders and began to call down the healing grace of God in prayer.

  During the interview, Father Scanlan shared about his own struggles in the past with certain Marian doctrines and devotions. Nothing could have pleased Kimberly more than to hear how it took effort for a Catholic priest to grow in his understanding and appreciation of Mary. She listened attentively as he went on to explain his recent discovery of how biblical and Christ-centered Marian doctrine and devotion really are, once they’re properly understood and practiced as Vatican II presented them. It was brief but effective.

  Several weeks went by before I flew out for a second interview and to give a lecture to the student body. Both went very well. My time with Alan and Nancy Schreck was especially cordial. Besides being gracious hosts, they were becoming good friends. Within days of returning home, we heard back from Alan that I had been offered the job. By then our prayers for divine guidance were anything but neutral. We eagerly accepted the offer.

  Oddly enough, I was less sure than ever about where Kimberly stood on Catholic issues. I was finally learning the lesson drilled into my head by Gil Kaufmann, a good friend in Opus Dei: Beef up the romance and back off the doctrine.

  I flew out to California to speak at a national conference on apologetics sponsored by Catholic Answers. Many people there had heard “The Tape” and were asking all about Kimberly. After I had finished the lecture, my first question went something like this: “Scott, we’ve all heard the tape you made a few months ago; tell us how your wife is doing in her struggle with the Catholic Faith.” It was embarrassing; I had to tell them that I didn’t know.

  Later in the evening, I gave Kimberly a call at the Schrecks’ home in Steubenville, where she was staying for the weekend while looking for housing. When I told her about all the people at the conference who had listened to the tape and how they wanted to find out where she was in her thinking, I asked if there was anything she would want me to say. I was hardly prepared for her answer.

  After a pause, she said, “Tell them that when I was driving out to
Steubenville yesterday, on Ash Wednesday, after much thought and prayer, it became clear that God was calling me to come home this Easter.”

  Neither of us could speak for over a minute. Then the tears, the prayers and the rejoicing began.

  In a short time, everyone at the conference knew.

  Kimberly was to be received at Saint Patrick’s Church in Joliet during the Easter Vigil, 1990. (The timing seemed more than a little ironic; five years before, 1990 had been set as the earliest date for me to join the Church—my date became hers.) The joy of anticipating Kimberly’s reception was overwhelming at times; it made entering the penitential spirit of Lent a unique challenge for both of us. Our celebration of Holy Week had never been so special.

  In the middle of Holy Week, I happened to ask Kimberly in a rather off-handed way, “Whom have you chosen for your patron saint?”

  She gave me a funny look. “What are you talking about?”

  So I explained. “When you get confirmed, you have the opportunity to choose a ‘confirmation name’ that is typically taken from a ‘patron saint’ to whom you might feel close. For instance, when I joined the Church, I chose Saint Francis de Sales.”

  Kimberly still did not seem to be catching on. She asked, “Why him?”

  I dutifully explained. “Saint Francis de Sales happened to be the Bishop of Geneva, Switzerland, while John Calvin was leading the people farther away from the Catholic Faith. I discovered through my reading that Saint Francis de Sales was such an effective preacher and apologist that, through his sermons and pamphlets, over forty thousand Calvinists were brought back into the Church. So I figured if he could guide all of them back then, he could guide one more back now. Besides, Saint Francis de Sales was also declared to be Patron of the Catholic Press, and since I owned around fifteen thousand books, I figured he was the natural choice for me.”

  Kimberly turned away with a somewhat wistful look. “I’ll just have to pray about it, I guess, and see if the Lord brings anyone to mind.”

  I did not tell her, but I already knew who my first choice for her patron saint was. Two years before, shortly after joining the Church, I had attended a conference of the Fellowship of Catholic Scholars, where I met a well-known theologian, Germain Grisez. I sat with him and his wife, Jeannette, at the Saturday evening banquet. I shared with them all about the excitement of my conversion as well as my heartache over Kimberly’s resistance.

  At the end of our time together, they both looked at each other and then at me. Germain spoke up. “We know just what to do.”

  I did not catch the meaning behind his rather cryptic remark. I asked, “What do you mean by that?”

  They both began telling me about Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton: housewife, mother of five children, Catholic convert from Protestantism and foundress of the American Sisters of Charity, She had recently been canonized as the first native-born American saint. They also mentioned that her shrine was near their home in Emmitsburg, Maryland.

  Hearing them speak about Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton was interesting, but it did not strike me as the highlight of the conference—until later.

  Within a week I received a package in the mail. Seeing “Germain and Jeannette Grisez” on the return address, I suspected some kind of Catholic paraphernalia, so I took it up to my study for opening, far away from Kimberly’s anxious gaze. Inside was a copy of Joseph Dirvin’s biography of Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton and something I had never seen before: a small reliquary, containing a relic of Mother Seton.

  I had no idea what to do with the reliquary, so 1 asked a Catholic friend to explain it to me. After that, I began carrying the relic in my pocket. It served as a reminder, whenever things got tense between Kimberly and me, to commit her cause to the Lord through the patronage and intercession of Mother Seton.

  One day the inevitable happened; while going through my pockets when doing the laundry, Kimberly found the reliquary.

  “Scott, what in the world is this?”

  I froze. With a poorly disguised nervous tone, I stammered, “Oh, nothing, Kimberly, it’s really nothing. You don’t want to know.”

  She looked at it suspiciously for a moment—I could tell she was afraid that if she asked any more, I’d probably explain something that she did not really care to hear about—so she handed it back to me.

  With a combination of prudence and fear, I stopped carrying the reliquary around with me, placing it in the back of my desk drawer instead. By then I had buried the biography somewhere on the bottom shelf in a dark corner of my study.

  I realize now that I probably should not have been surprised two years later—but I was.

  The day after I had asked Kimberly about her confirmation name and patron saint, as I was getting ready for bed I asked, “What’s that you’re reading, Kimberly?”

  “It’s a book about Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton.”

  I stopped in the middle of putting on my pajamas. “Kimberly, may I ask, where did you find that?”

  With a tone of nonchalance, she explained: “Well, Scott, I was rummaging through all your books today, and I happened to pull out this one.”

  I ignored the chills running up and down my spine, “Well, what do you think of it?”

  “Oh, my,” she said excitedly, “I’ve been reading about her for hours now, Scott, and I think I’ve found my patron saint.”

  Or she found you, I thought.

  All I could do was mutter, “Oh, really.” (I was no longer sure, at that point, where the “communion of saints” left off and the twilight zone began.) Then I sat down on the bed and explained to her what had happened some two years earlier. Afterward I gave her the relic.

  We ended the day with a short prayer of thanks to God—and to his wonderful daughter, our spiritual sister-in-Christ, Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton.

  The momentous evening finally arrived. Kimberly left for the Easter Vigil Mass a half hour early so Father Memenas could hear her first confession.

  In the middle of the Mass, Kimberly handed me a note. I looked down and read the following lines: “Dearest Scott, I am so thankful for you and for your forging this path for us. I love you. K.” I was too numb with joy to say anything; but the smile and the tears were enough for Kimberly to know what I was thinking.

  We shared the Eucharist together for the first time that evening. It was a fitting climax to a dizzying religious romance, as my bride and I were fully reunited through Christ and his Bride.

  Kimberly:

  One week after Hannah’s baptism we moved to Joliet, Illinois. It was a very busy time for us, adjusting to the move into the first home we had ever owned, adjusting to our new baby and beginning the adventure of homeschooling for the first time. Scott was teaching full time at the College of Saint Francis in the theology department and loving it. Life was so full!

  This was really “spring” thaw for me after the winter. My heart wanted to study, especially baptism. Scott found time to watch the children so that I could go study. Rather than seeing my seminary days as a waste, I realized I had gained tools with which I could pore over the Scriptures in serious study. I was in for a delightful surprise as I studied Catholic biblical scholars—for some reason I had thought Catholics mostly quoted papal documents. I came to appreciate that Hannah had become a child of God through baptism, being born again by water and the Spirit. As I studied baptism, it connected with what I had already done on justification. As with Scott, my study in seminary had led me to reject as unscriptural the Protestant teaching of justification by faith alone. Infant baptism highlighted justification by grace alone. I was amazed how beautiful the Scripture studies by Catholics were in regard to justification and baptism.

  I had not been back to Mass since the Easter Vigil when Scott came into the Church, two years before. When I attended the Ash Wednesday service in a little chapel, I was amazed how deeply the liturgy touched me. The call to repentance was so clear, I wondered how several ex-Catholic friends had missed it when they said they had never been cal
led to the gospel in the Catholic Church.

  As soon as Scott became Catholic, it seemed that our boys (aged two and three at the time) began talking about being priests. I could not believe my ears! It really cut me to the quick at the time. Yet in Joliet I had met a number of wonderful, faith-filled priests. And I found my heart changing direction regarding God’s call in the lives of our sons. When our son Gabriel, the three-year-old, said, “Mom, there aren’t enough priests and nuns in the world. I want to be a priest and go all over the world making more priests and nuns”, I found my heart pleased with his desire. This kind of change could come only from the Lord.

  I began to phrase questions differently when I went to prayer. I started to ask the Lord to give me his heart and mind on the Eucharist and the other sacraments. Instead of pain-filled cries resulting from Scott-versus-Kimberly confrontations over these issues, I began approaching God, desiring his perspective, even if it was Roman Catholic.

  There were still times of utter anguish—of feeling that I was being sucked into the void; that I was not thinking clearly enough, because if I was, I would see the faults of the Catholic Church. There were still times of weeping so deeply from the gut that I could barely breathe as the agony of the unknown pressed upon me.

  But now there were also times of incredible grace when there were breakthroughs for me. I could not always figure out where my convictions ended and my obstinacy began. But God, in his mercy, was guiding.

  Scott and I agreed that when Michael was seven, he would receive First Communion, and the children would become Catholic. I had to put that timetable out of my thoughts, though. I could not deal with the pressure of it. Instead, I tried to focus on the issues.

  Scott encouraged me to take an opportunity to visit friends who were ministers in Virginia in the spring of 1988. I had a lot of questions I was hoping they could help me resolve.