Behold, I Make All Things New

I was raised Catholic. I went through all the sacraments. I took all the classes. But I never truly knew God. During high school, I became more and more invested in science, and I began to come to the conclusion that religion was just a silly fairy tale; a way to explain ancient mysteries that now found explanations in science. I became an atheist. I thought to myself: “Put me in a debate with any priest, and I will destroy them.” I thought I was so smart. I thought I had it all figured out. I thought we could explain everything within a scientific, materialist framework.

During this time, I began to convince myself that I could be a “good” person without religion. I didn’t need religion, or God, or a savior, to be a good person – I was already a good person. Yet, I conveniently glossed over the ever-increasing immorality in my life. I started getting in intense arguments with my parents about religion. Science became an idol to me. My pride was through the roof. I engaged in countless acts of sexual immorality. I stole from my employer. I started vaping, and drinking alcohol, and smoking weed.

Then one night, sitting in my room alone, as I was about to sin, I felt the grace of God touch my heart. I dropped to my knees, and I cried. For hours. Yes, the same person who had argued that God was a “delusion” was now on his knees, crying more intensely than he ever had in his entire life. I felt God’s sorrow for me as all the sin I had committed over the last 10 years played like a filmstrip in my mind. I pleaded with God to have mercy on me, a sinner. I promised Him, “never again.”

Surely enough, just later that week, I was back in my sin again. And it only got worse and worse for the next year. When people asked me about religion, I would say “I don’t really know.” Yet, I knew. I had encountered God, and it seemed to have slipped my mind.

They made a calf at Horeb
    and worshiped a cast image.
They exchanged the glory of God
    for the image of an ox that eats grass.
They forgot God, their Savior,
    who had done great things in Egypt.

— Psalm 106:19–21 (NRSV)

Then, about a year later, I was sitting in my room alone again, probably about to engage in some shameless sin, when I saw the cross my grandmother gave me years ago on my desk. I hadn’t seen that cross in years. I moved multiple times since I first got that cross, and I forgot it even existed. I had absolutely no explanation for how it got there. I put it on, and again, I fell to my knees crying. The Lord reminded me of the promise I made him just last year, and as I realized how short I had fallen on my promise, my crying intensified.

The Lord turned and looked straight at Peter. Then Peter remembered the word the Lord had spoken to him ... And he went outside and wept bitterly.

— Luke 22:61-62 (NIV)

Around this time, I started to feel the conviction of the Holy Spirit for what felt like the first time in my life. My guilt for my sins was piling up. I had to confess. And I did. I told two of the closest people in my life the things that I tried to hide for years.

These people were hurt. They were uncomfortable. They saw me for who I truly was, rather than the façade I had put on. I was no longer trying to be someone to please others, I let my deepest secrets shine through. And it was one of the hardest things I ever did, but it was liberating.

However, I still had not fully given my life to Christ. I didn’t start reading the Bible, I didn’t start going to church. God became an afterthought yet again. And again, I started to slip. I was still living in sin.

Like a dog that returns to its vomit
    is a fool who reverts to his folly.

— Proverbs 26:11 (NIV)

Another year later, I was riding a jetski on the lake with friends. Suddenly, they took off, and my jetski broke down. I looked around, and there were no boats in sight. I was all alone, and I paddled myself over to the shore. I found the dock where it looked least likely that someone lived because I didn’t want to bother anyone. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, the man who owned the dock pulled in on his boat, eager to take me home.

For some reason, in this experience, I recognized for the first time that there was a reality beyond the material. I couldn’t explain where the man came from, or why he helped me. When I returned to the lake house, I started seeing everything this way. I was connecting with people in ways I never had before. I felt like I was seeing people’s souls, not just their bodies.

Jesus said to him, “Receive your sight; your faith has healed you.” Immediately he received his sight and followed Jesus, praising God.

— Luke 18:42-43 (NIV)

I couldn’t deny it anymore, and I started sharing my experience with friends and coworkers. Some explained my experience with New Age Spirituality, others explained it with Islam. I looked into the beliefs others shared with me, and I tried desperately to incorporate them into my life. Yet deep down, I still didn’t feel satisfied. I was still running away from Jesus. Eventually, however, I ended up buying my first Bible, and I turned to the gospels:

Jesus said to him, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.”

— John 14:6 (NRSV)

Reading the text, I knew it was true. The same voice that had spoken to me over the last 3 years was the same one I found in the gospels. I didn’t find that voice in the Qur’an, or New Age beliefs, or anything else. But when I read the Sermon on the Mount, when I heard His parables, when I learned about His healings, I just knew it was Him calling to me all that time.

My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me.

— John 10:27 (NRSV)

My life completely changed. The hours I used to spend in shameful acts were now spent diligently studying the Word of God. It wasn’t just a book I was reading, He was speaking to me through the pages. It was like nothing I ever experienced before. I fell in love.

Indeed, the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing until it divides soul from spirit, joints from marrow; it is able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart.

— Hebrews 4:12 (NRSV)

Even reading the Bible, something was still missing. Yes, many of the chains that once held me back were broken. I wasn’t smoking anymore, I wasn’t watching porn, I wasn’t drinking, and I wasn’t stealing. But I still found myself struggling with sin. Then, I took another look at the Gospel of John:

Jesus said to them, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.”

— John 6:35 (NRSV)

I already realized Jesus was the metaphorical bread of life. The hunger and thirst that I used to satiate with the idols of science, drugs, and sex were satisfied in a way they never had been once I directed those impulses toward Him. But I kept reading on:

“Very truly, I tell you, whoever believes has eternal life. I am the bread of life … I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh … Very truly, I tell you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood have eternal life, and I will raise them up on the last day; for my flesh is true food and my blood is true drink. Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them.”

— John 6:47-48,51,53-56 (NRSV)

I read these words over and over, and over again. Sure, Jesus used metaphor to describe himself as “the light of the world” (John 8:12) and as “the gate for the sheep” (John 10:7), but there was something objectively different about his language in the Bread of Life Discourse. And there was something emotionally, psychologically, and spiritually different about it too. After I read those words, I looked into the Eucharist. I felt the utmost urgency to make it to mass at a Catholic church that next Sunday.

And when I made it, I instantly fell in love with the beauty of the Church. Although I had once felt bored in church, I now wished the liturgy would never end.

And then the time came to receive Holy Communion. And… I didn’t feel much. In fact, that week I started to feel more guilt than I had in a long time. I felt the conviction of the Holy Spirit more than I ever had before.

Whoever, therefore, eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be answerable for the body and blood of the Lord. Examine yourselves, and only then eat of the bread and drink of the cup. For all who eat and drink without discerning the body, eat and drink judgment against themselves.

— 1 Corinthians 11:27-29 (NRSV)

I realized I needed to get to the sacrament of confession as soon as possible. That week, I started listing out all of the sins I had committed in the last 12 years. From stealing, to sexual immorality, to idolatry, and everything in between.

When I got to the church, I was shaking in the car, and I almost left without going in. I worried about how bad my penance was going to be for all the evil I had done. But I called to the Holy Spirit and He guided me into the church. I sat down in line, and I opened up my Bible, hoping to find comfort. The page I flipped to was right in the middle of the Gospel of Luke. I read:

I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance.

— Luke 15:7 (NRSV)

My trembling hands started to find some rest. I continued reading:

“… ‘I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands.”’ So he set off and went to his father. But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him.

— Luke 15:18-20 (NRSV)

I heard the voice of the Father tell me that was going to be my penance. I doubted whether it was truly Him. Then, it was my turn to go into the confessional.

With a shaky voice, I confessed: “Bless me father, for I have greatly sinned. It has been 12 years since my last confession.”

A soothing voice replied, “Welcome back.”

And so I started listing my sins. Every last one that I could remember. When I heard the words of absolution, the weight of sin I felt on my heart had lifted, and when the priest told me my penance was to read Luke 15, I felt like I was flying. In that confessional, I experienced the love of God in a way I never had before. I realized more deeply than ever what John meant when he wrote:

Beloved, let us love one another, because love is from God; everyone who loves is born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, for God is love. God’s love was revealed among us in this way: God sent his only Son into the world so that we might live through him. In this is love, not that we loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the atoning sacrifice for our sins.

— 1 John 4:7-10 (NRSV)

The same person who was an atheist just years before was now confessing:

My soul yearns
    for the Lord.
My stomach is empty
    without His body,
My tongue parched
    without His blood.

The same person who was an atheist just years before was now brought to tears when the priest uttered the words of consecration over the altar. That same person now sits here writing this story, longing for the next opportunity to receive the Most Blessed Sacrament, praying that even one person will read this story and come back to the Lord Jesus.

He who sat on the throne said, “Behold, I make all things new.” And He said to me, “Write, for these words are true and faithful.”

— Revelation 21:5 (NKJV)