Then one day, I made a "fatal blunder"–I decided that it was time for me to go to Mass on my own... I slipped quietly into the basement chapel for daily Mass. I wasn't sure what to expect... I took a seat as an observer in the back pew.

All of a sudden lots of ordinary people began coming in off the streets–rank-and-file type folks. They came in, genuflected, knelt and prayed. Their simple but sincere devotion was impressive.

Then a bell rang and a priest walked out toward the altar... As an evangelical Calvinist, I had been taught that the Catholic Mass was the greatest sacrilege that a man could commit--to resacrifice Christ–so I wasn't sure what to do.

I watched and listened as the readings, prayers and responses–so steeped in Scripture–made the Bible come alive. I almost wanted to stop the Mass and say, "Wait. That line is from Isaiah; the song is from the Psalms. Whoa, you've got another prophet in that prayer." I found numerous elements from the ancient Jewish liturgy that I had studied so intensely.

All of a sudden I realized, this is where the Bible belongs... Then we moved into the Liturgy of the Eucharist, where all my covenant conclusions converged.

I wanted to stop everything and shout, "Hey, can I explain what's happening from Scripture? This is great. Instead I just sat there, famished with a supernatural hunger for the Bread of Life.

After pronouncing the words of consecration, the priest held up the Host. I felt as if the last drop of doubt had drained from me. With all of my heart, I whispered "My Lord and my God. That's really you! And if that's you, then I want full communion with you. I don't want to hold anything back."

Rome Sweet Home
Scott Hahn