how It happened
July 30, 2021
It would appear that I chin-wag a lot about Catholicism, so you might think I’m a cradle Catholic. No, I was not baptized at birth. That isn’t what happened. What did, is more sensational.
The father I came to love had urged my brother to go to St. Ignatius High School, now St. Ignatius College Preparatory, a pompous name change. One day, on hearing that my brother was not Catholic, Father Raymond Devlin, SJ, asked if he wanted to be. Tommy said, "Okay."
One word got the bowling ball rolling, and it struck five pins, a strike in this game.
Devlin showed up. My mother did not prepare us at all for his visit. She merely said, “Behave.”
I was not searching for God. I knew nothing about any religion. I had never seen a priest.
He walked in, a very tall and handsome ‘black Irish’ San Franciscan. He had an older brother who was a Jesuit and two more siblings. When Devlin arrived, he was just 36. My mother was 34, Tommy 14, Kathy 12, me 8, and Joanie 6.
The instant he began giving us instruction, in his black habit, I knew I was hearing truth with a capital T.
We five were baptized on April Fool’s Day.
One or two months later, Father Devlin heard our first individual confessions. He sat in a chair in my mother's bedroom and each one of us knelt before him, door shut. I was last in line for confession. After that was out of the way, my mother, Tommy, Kathy, and I made our First Holy Communion. Joanie was too wee. She made hers a year later.
We kept it a secret for 10 years because some groups of people in the extended family were fractional factions.
How? How did all this happen and why?
I’m still trying to figure it out. My soon-to-be father, Father Devlin, my brother...no, they did not conspire. Someone else pushed the bowling ball.
One thing is for sure…God found me.
A quote attributable to an anonymous Catholic priest goes like this: “Give me a child of five, and I will make him a lifelong Catholic.” Eight is close enough.
Have I ever had doubts about the faith? No.
It would appear that I chin-wag a lot about Catholicism, so you might think I’m a cradle Catholic. No, I was not baptized at birth. That isn’t what happened. What did, is more sensational.
The father I came to love had urged my brother to go to St. Ignatius High School, now St. Ignatius College Preparatory, a pompous name change. One day, on hearing that my brother was not Catholic, Father Raymond Devlin, SJ, asked if he wanted to be. Tommy said, "Okay."
One word got the bowling ball rolling, and it struck five pins, a strike in this game.
Devlin showed up. My mother did not prepare us at all for his visit. She merely said, “Behave.”
I was not searching for God. I knew nothing about any religion. I had never seen a priest.
He walked in, a very tall and handsome ‘black Irish’ San Franciscan. He had an older brother who was a Jesuit and two more siblings. When Devlin arrived, he was just 36. My mother was 34, Tommy 14, Kathy 12, me 8, and Joanie 6.
The instant he began giving us instruction, in his black habit, I knew I was hearing truth with a capital T.
We five were baptized on April Fool’s Day.
One or two months later, Father Devlin heard our first individual confessions. He sat in a chair in my mother's bedroom and each one of us knelt before him, door shut. I was last in line for confession. After that was out of the way, my mother, Tommy, Kathy, and I made our First Holy Communion. Joanie was too wee. She made hers a year later.
We kept it a secret for 10 years because some groups of people in the extended family were fractional factions.
How? How did all this happen and why?
I’m still trying to figure it out. My soon-to-be father, Father Devlin, my brother...no, they did not conspire. Someone else pushed the bowling ball.
One thing is for sure…God found me.
A quote attributable to an anonymous Catholic priest goes like this: “Give me a child of five, and I will make him a lifelong Catholic.” Eight is close enough.
Have I ever had doubts about the faith? No.