Skip to main content

Navigating Faith: When the Journey Doesn’t Follow the Expected Path

Today, I had a conversation with my parish priest about receiving full communion into the Catholic Church. He asked me to speak to the faith formation office and set up a time to do so, but instead of feeling the peace and joy I thought I’d feel, I found myself wrestling with deep reservations.

You see, I’m facing a dilemma that many others in the church may not fully understand. While I have always felt a sense of belonging and the call to move forward in my spiritual journey, I have serious doubts about certain aspects of Catholic doctrine—most notably, the teaching of transubstantiation.

For those who may not be familiar with it, transubstantiation is the belief that during the Eucharist, the bread and wine are transformed into the literal body and blood of Christ. This teaching has been a stumbling block for me, as I’ve always leaned toward the belief in consubstantiation, the idea that Christ is present in the elements of the Eucharist but not that they literally become His body and blood.

This difference in belief leaves me in an uncomfortable position. How can I join a community where I don’t agree with such a core teaching? And even more so, how can I participate fully in the life of the Church if I don’t believe in one of its most central tenets?

With these thoughts swirling in my mind, I did what most of us do in the digital age—I took to social media. I posted my concerns about the journey I’m on and the struggle I’m having reconciling my beliefs with Catholic teaching.

It’s safe to say, things didn’t go as I expected.

Within moments of posting, I found myself being attacked, mocked, and ridiculed. One particular individual seemed to take particular joy in pointing out that I was a *Protestant Theologian* and that, clearly, I was rejecting transubstantiation because of my Protestant roots. His tone wasn’t one of dialogue or understanding but of scorn, and, in the heat of the moment, I found myself firing back with a quip—suggesting that if he had it all figured out, he should take his concerns up with the Vatican.

While I’m not proud of my response, it reminded me of something I’ve encountered repeatedly in my faith journey: when we face doubt, disagreement, or even moments of weakness, there are always those who would rather ridicule than understand.

But that’s not the full story.

In the midst of the mockery, I also encountered the kindness and grace of those who reached out to me. People who saw my post not as an opportunity to attack but as an invitation to walk alongside me. Messages came in from people who asked, “Hey, what’s going on? How can I help?” They didn’t have all the answers, but they were there to listen, to pray, and to offer words of encouragement and understanding.

And in those messages, I saw hope. 

This is the church I long for. Not the church of mockery and division, but the church that extends the hand of understanding, the church that invites people in despite differences. The church that is patient with our struggles, and the one that doesn’t offer condemnation but community.

This experience made me realize that faith isn’t always about having everything figured out or fully agreeing with every teaching of the Church. Faith is a journey, and sometimes, that journey is messy. It sometimes involves navigating difficult questions, wrestling with teachings we don’t fully understand, and engaging in conversations that challenge us.

But through it all, what matters most is the people who are willing to walk with us. The ones who listen, who offer their prayers, and who offer their support even when they don’t have all the answers. Those are the people who make the journey worthwhile.

So, as I continue to navigate this path of faith, I remind myself that it’s okay to have doubts, to question, and to not have everything figured out. I may never fully understand or agree with every Catholic doctrine, but what I do know is that I’m not alone in this journey. There are kind, compassionate people who will walk with me, and together, we can find the way forward.

In the end, faith is less about perfect agreement and more about seeking truth with humility and grace. And that’s something we can all share, no matter where we are on our spiritual journey.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Navigating Faith: Called to Go Deeper

This morning’s daily reading from the Catholic lectionary— Jeremiah 1:4–10 —hit me hard. It’s one I’ve read before, maybe even skimmed. But today, I slowed down and took it in. Jeremiah was afraid. He thought he was too young to be used by God. Too inexperienced. Too small. And in response, God didn’t entertain the excuse. He said to him,   “Do not say, ‘I am too young.’ To whomever I send you, you shall go; whatever I command you, you shall speak. Do not be afraid of them, for I am with you to deliver you” (Jeremiah 1:7–8). That struck a chord in me. Later, I saw an Instagram post from a local church. In the photo, a little girl—my former friend’s daughter—was sitting in Children’s Church with her Bible and highlighter on her lap. She looked like she was studying. I don’t know if she was just following instructions or if something deeper was happening in her heart. But either way, I found myself praying for her. In that moment, I understood something: God isn't interested in how q...

Holy Saturday: Stillness, Scars, and the In-Between

Today is Holy Saturday —a sacred, quiet pause in the Christian calendar. It’s the day Jesus lay in a borrowed tomb, purchased by Joseph of Arimathea. According to the Nicene Creed , it was during this time that He descended into hell , entering the deepest places of human pain and separation so that we would never have to know that finality—if we accept Him as our Savior. “He was put to death in the body but made alive in the Spirit. After being made alive, he went and made proclamation to the imprisoned spirits…” —1 Peter 3:18–19 It’s also the day of the Easter Vigil , the most solemn and sacred liturgy in the Catholic Church. For many catechumens and candidates, this is the night of becoming Catholic. And for me, that was supposed to be today. As many of you know, I’ve been discerning Catholicism for quite some time. I love the Catholic liturgy—the beauty, the reverence, the rhythm of it. I’m active in the Church and genuinely enjoy being there. But the truth is, I haven’t discer...

Navigating Faith: Thank You, Mom and Dad—You Taught Me How to Be Catholic

I’ve said it many times before, and I’ll keep saying it: being Catholic will always be an experience in my family. That’s not just because of theology—it’s because of my story. I was raised in a traditional Southern Baptist Convention (SBC) church. My maternal grandfather was an assistant pastor at a small Pentecostal/holiness congregation, so my mom grew up in a deeply charismatic environment. Church was non-negotiable. If the doors were open, they were there. My dad’s upbringing was different—his father was a moonshiner, and while they went to church occasionally, it wasn’t regular or structured. In between those two worlds—Pentecostal intensity and Baptist formality—I was raised. But what my parents gave me, more than any creed or custom, was a gift that I now realize was extraordinary: freedom. Not just the freedom to choose my own hobbies or pick out my clothes. It was the sacred kind of freedom—the kind that allows a child to ask hard questions, explore unfamiliar paths, and wre...