Yet another Scott Hahn book. In other words, another book arguing in favor of Catholicism from a guy who used to be a Presbyterian minister and theologian.

This one is an examination of the Catholic Mass, explaining many of its parts, but mostly looking at it from the context of the book of Revelation. He argues, rather convincingly, that Armageddon is the current time we are in and that, while we are in the midst of Mass, we are actually in heaven, and not just symbolically. Instead of looking at political events in search of the end times, he matches up almost every key aspect of the final book of the Bible with an aspect of Mass. I won’t list those things off here because, well, there’s a lot of them. Plus, I’m no expert at Catholicism or the book of Revelation so a lot of it was new to me.

This book will be surprising to most evangelicals, who try to draw parallels with current events while they flip through Revelation, but (this was surprising to me) many educated in the Catholic tradition won’t find much of this new at all. It became clear to me as I was reading that Revelation was written with the Church and Mass in mind, not as some wacked-out prophecy about how the world will end. Sure, it was written in a strange format, but it’s impressive how much of it lines up with the procession of Mass and the overall structure of the Church.

Like I said, I won’t try to argue in favor of the ideas presented in The Lamb’s Supper because I’d fail quickly. But if you’re interested in end times theology, the Catholic Mass or finding heaven on earth, this will be an eye-opening book for you.

Apparently Scott Hahn is “that guy” to people who, like myself, are transitioning out of evangelicalism into Catholicism. I did not know this until I began the process myself, but I suppose that makes sense.

Reasons to Believe: How to Understand, Explain and Defend the Catholic Faith is a decent read. Lots of good explanations and biblical justifications for fundamental aspects of the Catholic faith.

The only part I didn’t like so much was the fact that he tried to cater to too many audiences. The entire first third of the book is geared towards those that don’t believe God exists. While I have dealt with that at times in my life, I was hoping it was more of a book for those that already had some foundation of belief.

And the last third was mostly a focus on Old Testament justification for the Catholic church. Probably relevant to people who know a fair amount about the Bible. Also known as: not me. I suppose I can’t fault Hahn for trying to make the book as useful as possible, but it still was frustrating.

I recommend this one, if only for the middle third of the book, as a way for evangelicals to gain an understanding of the Catholic faith, whether or not you’re interested in taking the plunge.

As I’ve been growing and learning more about the Catholic church and the liturgy, one of the biggest things I’ve learned is that every action taken and item present in the service is a direct reminder of some aspect of the Gospel. It’s as though, over time, we’ve come to realize that us humans need to be continually pounded in the brain and heart with the facts about how and why we are saved.

In contrast, the evangelical church is all about teaching. People want a message, they want it to be compelling and entertaining and they don’t want it to be something they’ve heard before. It’s no wonder evangelical churches have had to become business-savvy marketers.

And you know what’s funny? Just like marketing ploys and advertising are losing steam (or, as Seth Godin says, the “half-price sale on attention is now over”), I’m starting to see evangelical churches bottom out when it comes to our generation. They can’t keep our attention and we’re left disillusioned and unsatisfied.

Perhaps it’s because the marketing is getting in the way of the constant reminder of sacrifice and forgiveness, of the fact that going through motions is sometimes what we need to do to remember. Maybe we were trained to look for a “good church” only to find the ones we go to are never good enough — rather than taught that the Church is still a collective of imperfect humans. And rather than stick around unsatisfied, we peace out before we get tied down. And many of us will never go back.

This post is in response to comments I got about my entry about the book Four Witnesses. The following responses aren’t things I’m saying with full authority and 100% belief, but ideas I’ve been introduced to through respectable sources. I’m still processing all of this. I’m not jumping into it without knowing what I’m getting into, so read on, explore and ponder with me.

1. Concern about the Catholic opinion of the pope’s position

For no one can be in doubt, indeed it was known in every age that the holy and most blessed Peter, prince and head of the apostles, the pillar of faith and the foundation of the Catholic Church, received the keys of the kingdom from our Lord Jesus Christ, the saviour and redeemer of the human race, and that to this day and for ever he lives and presides and exercises judgment in his successors the bishops of the holy Roman see…

Therefore, whoever succeeds to the chair of Peter obtains by the institution of Christ himself, the primacy of Peter over the whole Church. So what the truth has ordained stands firm, and blessed Peter perseveres in the rock-like strength he was granted, and does not abandon that guidance of the Church which he once received.

-Vatican I, First Dogmatic Constitution on the Church of Christ

Four Witnesses also pointed out that the Catholic church sees the pope as infallible (without error in his judgment) rather than sinless. It seems like a small distinction to me, but a distinction nonetheless. I’m still not sure how I feel about this.

2. Why the focus on “getting back to the early church”?

Because, if the keys of the church were truly handed to Peter we should follow in his footsteps. Also, the early church gave us the Bible organized as we read it today. If this church predates the Bible we know, trust and use for guidance for our Church model, shouldn’t we also look at their example alongside the Bible they compiled as our guide?

So that’s two significant objections and their responses. Like I said, I still have doubts and questions about both. I’m still in the dark about a lot of things here. I’m sure plenty more will come up.

There is something that, in the evangelical world, I was completely unaware of, but in the Anglican (and presumably the greater Catholic church) seems to have known for quite some time.

When talking to my good friend Mark, who works in the Anglican church I’ve begun to explore, he half-jokingly commented that his church is “seeker-hostile,” poking a little fun at the “seeker-friendly” philosophy that the evangelical church often touts. But what he means is that, yes, the traditional church is a difficult thing to jump right into with no background in the Christian faith.

Mark then goes on to point out that many people come to the traditional church when they feel as though the evangelical church has nothing left for them, as though it got them so far but once they’ve reached a certain maturity in their faith, they often feel as though there’s “something more” that the evangelical tradition can’t provide so that their spiritual growth can continue. This is, indeed, the main reason why I personally felt the need to abandon evangelicalism.

I just realized that this has something in common with my idea about a spectrum of belief. Maybe it’s time to revise that idea to say this:

It appears as though the evangelical church is good at getting people in the door, at population growth, but in a lot of cases it isn’t so hot at the continual spiritual growth at a certain point. It also appears that, though “seeker-hostile,” the Anglican church is not so hot at the population growth, but really good at the continual spiritual growth.

Here we see where a spectrum of belief — as there are disagreements between these two sections of the Church — is keeping many people, myself included, from falling off the map. I can’t discount the fact that the evangelical church built a certain foundation of faith in me for many years, but when it came time to continue to explore my faith, Anglicanism and the liturgical tradition has become the logical next step.

Mark says he thinks there needs to be a reconciliation of the two churches, and that these two points in the spectrum need to have a line drawn in between them so that the greater Church can do everything it was originally intended to do. If there were no Anglican or Catholic or evangelical, this spectrum might still exist, but as a means of growth in faith rather than a split in the church as is the present case.

If you had told me a year ago that I’d no longer be going to church and flirting with Anglicanism… well, I actually might have believed you. That’s because last year on Easter, I became an atheist in the pew of my own church.

Okay, not really, but close enough. That Easter Sunday, I sat in church and listened to the message given, as I always had. And yet, for some reason, on that day I heard a message that made me realize that everything I’d been taught had little ground to stand on. You want an easy way to spin into frustration and depression? That’ll do it.

Months later, while still harboring bitterness (some justified, most not) against the evangelical church as a whole, I decided I wasn’t getting any better. So I left.

And now, here I am. One year later, and my flailings and failings have tossed me into the last place I ever would have expected: the Anglican Catholic Church.

When I decided to leave, it was suggested that I look at the early church for guidance. Seeing the history of the Church might help me understand what the apostles and their direct-descending church leaders created. So I started reading, and what I found surprised me: the early church has a lot more in common with the traditional, liturgical church than any other church model I’ve seen or heard of.

So now, I’m dipping my toe in. The tradition is foreign to me. It honestly kind of scares me. But you know what’s funny? It’s the closest I’ve felt to understanding what it means to fear God, and what it means to embrace a mysterious, seemingly contradictory story that goes beyond our understanding. It took me a while to get here, but I’m trying (which, I think most can agree, even if you don’t understand or agree with the liturgical tradition, is better than doing nothing).

I’m writing this at one in the morning in the spare bedroom of a family I love dearly. A family who has shown me great care, given me much love and acted as a major sounding board during this frustrating yet fruitful time of my life. They are also the ones that have brought me here. Tomorrow, on Easter, I will be sitting with them in a pew, breathing in the incense, watching my good friend in a funny white-and-purple robe, stumbling over prayers read out of a book, all in great wonder and bemusement, because I won’t understand most of the ceremonial procession I’ll be seeing. And somehow, that feels more right than I ever would have imagined.