“There is therefore now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit” (Romans 8:1).
A Pious Desire
Many years ago, when I decided to become a priest in the Roman Catholic Church, I wanted to walk with Christ. However, because I was born a Catholic, I believed that the Roman Catholic Church was the only true church and that outside of that faith it was almost impossible to be saved. Popes have repeatedly declared this dogma. Pope Innocent III, Boniface VIII, Clement VI, Benedict XIV, Leo XIII, Pius XII, and Pius IX plainly state it thus: “By faith it is firmly to be held that outside of the APOSTOLIC ROMAN CHURCH none can achieve salvation.” Hence, I never for a moment thought of looking for salvation elsewhere.
I wanted to be a priest from early boyhood. I was born on April 2, 1911 in Denver, Colorado, U.S.A. Our neighborhood was made up of Irish, Scotch, and Slav families, most of whom were Roman Catholic. Naturally, in such an environment, I could not help noticing the immense power exercised by the local priests and the high esteem in which they were held. But it was not only the power and esteem they enjoyed that led me to decide to study for the priesthood, but also the sacerdotal dignity claimed for them by the Roman Church, which determined for me my vocation.
The priest, according to the teaching of the Roman Catholic Church, has the power to take ordinary bread and wine, and, by pronouncing the words of the consecration prayer in the Sacrifice of the Mass, to change it into the actual body and blood and soul and divinity of Jesus Christ. Hence, since one cannot separate the human nature of Christ from His divinity, the bread and wine, after being changed into the body and blood of Jesus Christ, is entitled to the worship of adoration.
Also, Roman Catholics are taught that in the confessional, after the penitents have told their sins to the priest, the confessor has the power to forgive their sins. The Council of Trent, which met after the Reformation in 1545, declared: “Whosoever says that the priests are not the only ministers of absolution (forgiveness), let him be condemned.” Since I began to go to confession at the age of seven years, I soon realized that this power gave the priests a tremendous hold over the lives of their people and that it made them superior to any secular authority on the face of the earth.
However, it was not only the power and dignity of the priesthood that motivated me; it was also a sincere desire to save my soul. I knew from the teachings of the priests and nuns that I could not hope to go directly to heaven after my death. My Roman Catholic catechism taught me that after death I had to pay for the temporal punishment due to my sins. The Roman Catholic Church teaches that “the souls of the just which, in the moment of death, are burdened with venial sins or temporal punishment due to sins, enter purgatory.” I therefore realized that since I committed venial sins daily, and sometimes even mortal sins, I must spend a very long time in purgatory. Now the Roman Church is rather vague in its official teaching concerning the pains of purgatory, but the fertile imagination of the Irish Roman Catholic priests and nuns helped them to invent such sufferings and pain that our childish lives were filled with fear and we would have done anything to avoid purgatory, if possible. Consequently, as a young lad, I reasoned that if a priest had the power, through the offering of the “Sacrifice of the Mass” to obtain the release of souls from purgatory, I would help my own soul by becoming a priest, for, after my death, those souls who had been aided by my masses would be obligated to pray for my soul before the throne of the Queen of Heaven (The Blessed Virgin Mary), and she in turn would intercede for me before the throne of her Son. This was the teaching of the Church, for it declared that “The poor souls in purgatory can be helped, above all, by the Sacrifice of the Mass which is pleasing to God,” and “The souls in purgatory can intercede for other members of the Mystical Body (the Church)” I had determined to become a priest and, in due time, made known my decision to the proper authorities.
The Role the Bible Played
It would take too long for me to tell you all about the many years of preparation for the priesthood in the Roman Catholic Church. It will suffice for me to relate those incidents that mark the turning points in my life. For me there was to be no short road to the assurance of salvation. That road would be beset with many trials and temptations.
Often I am asked if I did not know the Bible, or if it was forbidden to me. Actually, I had in my possession a New Testament during all of my years of preparation and the years spent in the monastery. When I left for the Junior Seminary I carried besides my Missal and prayer books three other books: The Glories of Mary by Alphonse Ligouri, The Imitation of Christ by Thomas A. Kempis, and the Roman Catholic New Testament. The latter bore the following notation: “An indulgence of 3 years is granted to all the faithful who read the Holy Scriptures at least a quarter of an hour with the veneration due to the Divine Word and as spiritual reading.” Roman Catholics should be moved to read the Bible since most are eager to gain indulgences. However, you will note that the indulgence is granted only when the Bible is read as spiritual reading and not for study or interpretation.
Since Roman Catholics know that they can gain indulgences in other, easier ways, such as making the Sign of the Cross (seven years each time that it is made with Holy Water), etc., most do not bother with the reading of the Scriptures. Then, too, many are fearful of interpreting the Word of God contrary to the teaching of the Roman Church. In my own case, when, many years later, I left the monastery, I still had the three aforementioned books in my possession. The Glories of Mary no longer had a cover. It had worn out. The cover of the Imitation of Christ hung by several threads. The New Testament, however, was still new. I had only read it when I wished to compare a translation from the Latin with the English.
The routine of the seminary is so arranged that one seldom has time for real reflection. True, there is a period each morning set aside for meditation. But points are read out for consideration, and if the mind is allowed to wander, one is in danger of committing venial sin.
The daily program, during the training of men to become priests, is designed to get them to renounce themselves and to depend on “Mother Church.” Despite the great esteem in which a priest is held by the laity of the Roman Church the authorities regard him as a mere cipher in their plan for the conquest of the world by the Roman Catholic Church. Hence, if he is to serve their purpose, he must be thoroughly brainwashed. This they achieve much in the same way as the Communists. In seminary training, they never permit sufficient sleep, require frequent fasting, and use every means and form of indoctrination.
Also, when a doubt arises concerning any major doctrine taught by the Roman Church, it must be rejected immediately because to entertain such a doubt (willingly) is a sign that God may be removing one’s priestly vocation and thus jeopardizing one’s eternal salvation.
Near the end of my minor seminary training I had to make up my mind whether I wanted to be a secular priest (under the authority of a bishop as a parish priest or a chaplain in an institution) or be a religious priest (one who has taken the three vows of poverty, chastity and obedience and who lives in a monastery or house of a religious order).
Choosing a Monastic Order
I felt that secular priests had too many temptations and, consequently, had a difficult time in obtaining salvation. I also knew that in past centuries the Roman Catholic Church had canonized (declared a soul officially to be in heaven) only one secular priest, the Cure of Ars, John Mary Vianney. Logically, therefore, I reasoned, if it was so difficult for a person to be saved as a secular priest, it was safer to become a monk or friar (a member of a religious Order). I therefore, spent my final year in the seminary deciding what Order appealed to me and where I would best fit.
I was well acquainted with the better-known Orders, such as the Benedictines, Dominicans, Servites, Franciscans, Trappists and the Society of Jesus (Jesuits). None of these appealed to me. I wanted a very strict Order in which I could find every assurance possible of obtaining salvation. I thought I had found this in the Order of our Lady of Mount Carmel, commonly called Discalced Carmelite Fathers.
Crusaders and others had founded the Carmelite Order in the Holy Land. They remained behind after the Crusades and occupied the caves of the Sons of the Prophets on Mount Carmel. The Patriarch Albert of Jerusalem gave them a simple rule of life and they followed it until in the middle of the thirteenth century when the Moslems drove them out of the Holy Land. Some of the exiles settled at Mantuain, Italy, and others in a village outside of Cambridge, England. The first prior general in England was a man called Simon Stock. It is claimed that the Blessed Virgin Mary appeared to him in a vision and made the famous so-called Brown Scapular Promise.
The Brown Scapular
In a pamphlet printed by the Catholic Truth Society of Ireland, “The Brown Scapular by the Rev. E. R. Elliott, O. Carm,” the so-called vision and promise is described on page 5: “…she (Mary) appeared to me accompanied by a great retinue and holding in her hands the habit (the scapular) of the Order, she said, ‘This will be a special favor to you and all Carmelites, WHOSOEVER SHALL DIE WEARING THIS HABIT SHALL NOT SUFFER ETERNAL FIRE.’” The scapular may be made by anyone. All that is required is brown woven wool cloth made into two squares or oblongs of reasonable size joined by strings. A priest authorized to confer such a blessing must bless the first scapular worn.
There is another promise attached to the wearing of the Brown (Carmelite) Scapular called the Sabbatine Privilege. It is supposed to have been received by Pope John XXII in a personal vision of Mary. Again quoting the above-mentioned pamphlet: “St. John of the Cross d. 1591, the great Carmelite Saint and Doctor of the Church, was a devoted believer in the Sabbatine Privilege. Shortly before his death he recalled for the benefit of his friends and that of himself, ‘How the Mother of God of Carmel comes on Saturdays, with grace and help to purgatory, and withdraws from it the souls of pious people, who have worn her Holy Scapular.’”
Many Roman Catholics, after they have been invested in the Brown Scapular, substitute a medal for it. The medal must have the picture of Christ on one side and Mary on the other. A priest must bless each medal.
My first year as a Discalced Carmelite was spent in the house of novices in preparation for my simple profession of vows. It was a year devoted to prayer and meditation. In addition to the regular daily schedule observed by all Discalced Carmelite Fathers, novices have extra prayer time, increased penances and mortifications. The silence observed in the novitiate is very strictly observed. Outside of about a half-hour of daily recreation, the novices are forbidden to speak to each other, and during the Lenten and Advent seasons, total silence is observed. In those seasons, the novices walk about during recreation in silence, making rosaries, disciplines, and etcetera.
The day begins in the novitiate at midnight. The community is called by the bell-ringer and assembles in the chapel. At the last stroke of the bell, the Divine Office begins. Matins consisting of nine psalms and nine lessons from the Old and New Testaments, with a commentary from one of the early Fathers of the Church, is sung, or recited, and this is followed by the five psalms of praise with the Benedictus, which portion of the Office is called Lauds. The monks then retire once more to their beds and await the next rising bell at 4:45 in the morning.
When I speak of beds, I do not want you to conjure up visions of soft feather beds, or even comfortable beds. The bed of a Carmelite consists of three planks laid over two trestles and covered by a thin pallet. Three blankets are provided for warmth. Everything in the monk’s room is in keeping with the austerity of his bed. Besides the latter, there is a small table and a stool. No other furnishing is permitted.
Many Hours of Prayer
Upon arising, the community goes to the chapel and recites Prime and Terce, each of which consists of three psalms followed by a short lesson and a short written prayer. At the conclusion of this portion of the Divine Office, the community spends an hour together in silent prayer upon their knees.
After mental prayer, the Masses of the day follow. If a monk is a priest, he celebrates a private mass at one of the many altars in the monastery, usually assisted by another monk, called the server. If the monk is still studying for the priesthood, he attends the Community Mass, which is celebrated by the priest assigned for the week. The lay brothers who do the manual labor in the monastery also attend this mass. All are expected to receive Holy Communion. These exercises: Divine Office, Mental Prayer, and Mass, take about three hours, and so it is usually eight o’clock before the monks have breakfast. This consists of bread and coffee and must be taken standing, since in the primitive rule of the Order no allowance is made for breakfast, which is a modern concession to man’s weakness.
The morning is devoted to study, classes, and private prayer. In the year of novitiate, one is not permitted to study anything but spiritual subjects and, of course, the Rule, Customs, and Discipline of the Carmelite Order. After profession of vows, the monk studies theology and the other necessary subjects for ordination to the priesthood.
Shortly before noon, the community goes to the chapel where they recite the last two little hours of the morning office: Sext and None. They, like Prime and Terce, consist of three psalms each, followed by a short lesson from the Holy Scripture and the prayer of the day. At the conclusion of the Office, until the Angelus, the remainder of time is devoted to the examination of conscience. During the examination one recalls any sins that one may have committed since the prior night and ask God’s forgiveness. However, if one has committed a mortal sin, it is necessary to go to confession at the first opportunity. For a venial sin, it suffices to say the Act of Contrition. After the recitation of the Angelus, the monks go to the dining room for the main meal of the day.
The Monastic Meals
All meals are taken in silence. The only exceptions are on Easter, Pentecost, Feast of our Lady of Mount Carmel, Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary, Feast of St. Teresa of Avila, Feast of St. John of the Cross, All Saints, Immaculate Conception, Christmas and some other days. However, while the community eats in silence, one of the monks, assigned weekly, reads from a spiritual book or from the Rule and Customs of the Order.
The food is simple and usually consists of soup, a plate with fish or eggs, two vegetables and fruit. The Discalced Carmelite Rule forbids the eating of meat unless a doctor prescribes it. This rarely occurs as most medical men feel that the eggs and fish are sufficient. When a monk must eat meat, he is placed in the lower part of the refectory and shielded from the gaze of the other monks by a screen. This area is jokingly referred to as “hell.”
As each monk finishes his meal he looks around to see if he may be of assistance in the refectory. One will relieve the reader, others the waiters so they may eat. Several more perform public penances and humiliations. These penances consist of standing with the arms outstretched to form a cross, kissing the sandaled feet of the monks, receiving a blow upon the face from the monks, and, at the end of the meal, lying prostrate before the entrance to the refectory so that the departing monks must step over one’s body. These, and other penances, are supposed to gain one merit in heaven and increase one’s “spiritual bank account.” After the noon meal, in most monasteries of the Discalced Carmelite Fathers, the recreational period of the day provides time for a fraternal exchange of spiritual ideas, in order to encourage one another in the observance of the religious life. However, in actual fact, it very often becomes a strain, and most uncharitable acts are committed at this time. One cannot confine twenty or more healthy men in the unnatural environment of a monastery without resultant psychological repercussions. It is usually with evident relief that the monks welcome the end of the daily recreational period and retire to their cells for the afternoon rest time.
The Constant Repetition of Psalms
Vespers and Compline follow the afternoon siesta. The former consists of five Psalms, the Magnificat, the prayer of the day, the latter three Psalms, the Nunc Dimittis, and a closing prayer. This concludes the Divine Office of the day. It was so divided into seven parts by the early Benedictine abbeys in keeping with Psalm 119:164: “Seven times a day do I praise Thee because of Thy righteous judgments.” Very often I am asked how it is that, in view of our daily recitation or singing of about thirty psalms (weekly we were supposedly, theoretically, to cover the entire Psalter), we did not thereby come to know of God’s plan of salvation. The answer is very evident to a Catholic. Whenever we heard a particular passage that seemed to be in conflict with the teaching of the Roman Church, we would decide that we were not interpreting it properly. For example, in Psalm 18:2: “The Lord is my Rock… and in Psalms 62:6: “He only is my rock and my salvation: he is my defence; I shall not be moved.” (emphasis mine) We would either ignore the implication that Peter was not THE Rock, or come to the conclusion that we did not possess sufficient knowledge of the Scriptures to understand the passage. It was the same when we heard passages read from the Old and New Testaments during the recitation of the Divine Office. For Romans 5:1, “Therefore being justified by faith….” We would understand it as reading: “Therefore being justified by faith in the Roman Catholic Church….”
The afternoon, after Vespers, is generally spent in one’s cell. There, in the solitude of his chamber, the monk tries to achieve “union with God” through spiritual reading, private meditation, and prayer. The Carmelite Rule stresses this part of the monk’s life and states “Remain in your cell, day and night, meditating on the law of the Lord.” Actually, a great deal of time is frittered away in idleness and boredom.
Mortifying the Flesh!
Another hour of silent meditation in the choir, collation (a simple supper consisting of bread and tea), evening prayers, and the Discipline bring to an end the monastic day. The Discipline is a public scourging in which all of the monks return to the dormitory and each friar places himself in front of the door of his cell. At a signal from the superior the lights are extinguished, and the monks partially disrobe themselves and proceed to scourge their naked thighs, while singing in Latin, very slowly, Psalm 51.
The scourge, or discipline as it is called, is made of three lengths of rope passed through a woven handle in such a fashion as to form a whip of six ends, each about fifteen inches in length. The tips of the ropes are dipped in beeswax to harden them. The application of this scourge depends, of course, on the fervor of the friar. But the individual usually draws blood. At the end of the singing of the psalm, the superior, the Father Prior, recites several prayers and the monks re-arrange their clothing. When the lights have been turned on, the monks kneel, each one in his own doorway, and the Father Prior passes down the corridor, blessing each monk who in turn kisses the scapular (an apron-like affair that hangs in the front & back) of the superior. The monks retire and this ends the monastic day.
If works could save, every Carmelite Father would be assured of salvation, as one can see by the penitential life the monks lead. However, we know from Romans 3:20: “Therefore by the deeds of the law there shall be no flesh justified in his sight: for by the law is the knowledge of sin.” Hence it is pathetic to think of all the thousands of monks and nuns, yea, millions of Roman Catholics, performing almost countless works that they believe to be meritorious. “Therefore we conclude that a man is justified by faith without the deeds of the law” (Romans 3:28) is a truth unknown to them. Because of my lack of true knowledge concerning God’s Word, I believed that I had to earn heaven and merit it by my work. Thus, I continued in darkness.
The Profession of Vows
In 1935, at the end of novitiate, I made my first profession of vows, and then in 1938, on the Feast of the Ascension, I made my solemn profession of vows. A copy of my profession follows so that you may see how binding the profession is to a Catholic:
“I, Fr. Hugh of St. Therese Margaret, make my profession of solemn vows, and promise obedience, chastity and poverty to God, and the most blessed Virgin Mary of Mount Carmel, and to our Reverend Father, Fr. Peter Thomas of the Virgin of Carmel, Prior General of the Order of the Discalced Carmelite Brethren, and to his successors, according to the primitive Rule of the above mentioned Order EVEN UNTIL DEATH.”
In 1938, when I made my solemn and final profession of vows, I was completing my theological studies for my ordination to the priesthood. I had received tonsure, Minor Orders, and the Sacred Order of the Subdiaconate from the hands of Bishop Francis Clement Kelley of Oklahoma City. As I now recall, I had not really been bothered by any serious doubts concerning the official teaching of the Roman Catholic Church. It looked as if I were set for life. However, God had other plans for me. “And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are called according to his purpose. For whom He did foreknow, He also did predestine to be conformed to the image of His son…” (Romans 8:28, 29).
Doubting the Power of the Priest!
During this period of my training I was practicing how to celebrate Mass. It takes months to learn the rubrics and ritual of the Mass. Many times, while practicing, I would ask myself if I believed that after my final ordination to the priesthood I would have the power to command God to come down upon the altar. According to the teaching of the Roman Church, the priest, no matter how unworthy he may personally be, even if he has just made a pact with the devil for his soul, has the power to change the elements of bread and wine into the actual body and blood, soul and divinity, of Jesus Christ. Provided he pronounces the words of consecration properly and has the intention of consecrating, God must come down on the altar and enter and take over the elements.
The more I thought about this power, claimed by the Roman Church for the priests, the less I believed in such a power. Repeatedly, I went to my Father Confessor and told him about my doubts. His only answer was that I must have patience. He told me that even if I did not believe in anything that the Roman Church taught, it would be all right for me to be a priest, provided that I would faithfully teach what they wanted me to teach. He said: “Your own personal faith has nothing to do with it. You are merely a tool in the hands of Mother Church for the propagation of the faith. Be loyal to the Roman Catholic faith and all will come out well in the end.” However, that was not to be the case. Daily, my doubts increased. The superiors noticed my attitude and surmised that I had problems, but did nothing about it. As a matter of fact, the high superior, Father Provincial, hated me. He realized that I knew that he was not a learned man. He pretended to great learning and sanctity and possessed neither. He was determined to break and destroy me, if possible.
Fortunately, the local prior, Father Edward, was my friend and protected me, even at the cost of incurring the wrath of the Provincial. Finally, I lost faith completely in the Roman Church and its invented dogmas. I ceased to care whether the superiors found out about my loss of faith or not.
Many times, during the months that followed, I considered leaving the Order. But I knew that if I stepped out of the Order I would, in conscience, have to leave the Roman Catholic Church. I knew very little of the claims of Protestantism. The only books that I had been allowed to study were those written by Roman Catholic authors, and these had so perverted and distorted the teachings of God and the Protestant theologians as to paint them to be tools of Satan. I did not know where to turn, but I placed my faith in God. I knew that He would not desert me in my time of trial.
Decision to Escape
At length, on August 2, 1940, I realized that I had long not believed in the peculiar doctrines of the Roman Church such as Transubstantiation, Auricular Confession (confession to a priest in order to be forgiven by him personally), and the Infallibility of the Pope (that when he is speaking in his official capacity concerning faith and morals he cannot err). I knew that to remain in the monastery would be impossible. The life is difficult enough when one believes all that the Roman Church teaches. When that belief is lost, life as a friar monk becomes intolerable.
I had completed my theological education and I knew that I could never again hold the faith of a Roman Catholic. Therefore, without letting anyone know, I resolved to leave the monastery and to do it that very afternoon. I was very careful. The Father Provincial, my enemy, was visiting the monastery to which I was attached. I knew that if he became suspicious and thought that I intended to leave, he would have a Roman Catholic medical doctor sign commitment papers and place me in a mental institution under the control of the Roman Church. This may sound far fetched to those who know kindly Roman Catholics, but I can assure you that in America, Ireland, and many other countries there are hundreds of priests and monks in mental hospitals who are there simply because they lost faith in the Pope and the Roman Catholic Church and wanted to leave.
While the Fathers were taking their afternoon siesta, I quietly slipped out by the back door and fled to the Y.M.C.A. in San Antonio for protection. I knew that the Provincial and his religious associate would not risk bringing this matter to the Protestant ministers of Texas by trying to seize me. After contacting a number of ministers and discussing my plight with them, I moved to Houston, a more Protestant dominated city than San Antonio, which is about sixty per cent Roman Catholic.
Entering the Protestant Ministry without Christ!
At this time I was not really converted. I considered it to be enough for one’s spiritual welfare to accept the theological opinion of the church to which one belonged. Consequently, I entered the Protestant ministry and for the next fifteen years of my life served in various capacities without being assured of my salvation.
Time and space prohibit my telling all of the digressions that took place during those fifteen years. I led a very worldly life. At one time during this period, it was my proud boast that I was just as worldly as any man. Some day, the Lord willing, I shall write a book describing the great mercy and patience of God with me during this “exile.”
However, God’s grace kept working. “It is the spirit that quickeneth; the flesh profiteth nothing: …Therefore said I unto you, that no man can come unto me, except it were given to him of my Father” (John 6:63, 65). Finally the turning point in my spiritual life came. One trial yet awaited me. I began to believe that I had made a mistake in leaving the Roman Church, and so in 1955, I returned to the Roman Catholic Church. They sent me to a Trappist Monastery for penance. I was quite willing. I wanted to do anything within my power to bring about some assurance as to my eternal destiny. I opened my mind to all they tried to teach me, but it was useless. I not only found out that I did not believe in the doctrines of the Roman Church, but I also realized that they could not have the truth since most of their doctrines were man-made. Again, I left the Roman Church, of course without their knowing that I intended to do so. I then set out for the East Coast and prayed that God would show me His will. My prayers were quickly answered, and answered in such a fashion that I could no longer doubt His will.
Steps towards My Conversion
I was speaking before a group of businessmen on the political implications of a Roman Catholic for the Presidency when, after the meeting, a large man approached me and congratulated me on my knowledge of the Roman Church and its teachings. I, as usual, was puffed up with pride. Then he said, “However, my friend, I must tell you that you have the lowest spiritual temperature I have ever taken.” I was thoroughly offended and turned from him with as much rudeness as I could summon. I dismissed him in my mind as being a “crack-pot.” However, he was too much of a soul-winner to let me off his hook so easily. He belonged to that very dedicated group of “Fishermen for Christ,” who do not cease in their pursuit of souls, no matter how badly they are rebuffed or even insulted. He kept after me, and finally, brought me under conviction.
At first I refused his solution to my spiritual problems. He told me I merely had to accept Christ, i.e., place all my trust in Him, “believe on Him” and I would have eternal life. He constantly reminded me of Christ’s word: “Verily, verily, I say unto you, he that believeth on Me hath everlasting life” (John 6:47). It all seemed too easy to be true. Why, I asked myself, would all of the teachings of the various faiths be promulgated when it was as easy as that? But then I realized that it was not easy. One had to humbly acknowledge that one was a sinner. “For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23). Furthermore, one was saved by the blood of Christ shed on Calvary, and not by one’s own merit, “He that spared not his own Son, but delivered Him up for us all…” (Romans 8:32). So, I acknowledged that I was a sinner, and said with the Psalmist, “Behold I was shapen in iniquity, and in[to] sin did my mother conceive me.” Then I accepted Christ as my only Savior, counting on no one else – not even the Blessed Virgin Mary. “But to him that worketh not, but believeth on Him that justifieth the ungodly, his faith is counted for righteousness” (Romans 4:5).
After My Conversion
From that day I have never had any doubts about my salvation. “Also I say unto you, whosoever shall confess (acknowledge) Me before men, him will I confess before my Father which is in heaven” (Matthew 10:32).
When I was first saved by God’s grace, I worked with an organization, which had for its purpose the helping of priests to understand the Gospel. However, I soon realized that God was calling me to a unique ministry—that of teaching Christians how to win Roman Catholics for the Lord. Therefore, in 1959, I went out on faith (as we say in the United States of America) trusting in Him to provide for all of my needs. This He has done. Lack of space prevents me from telling of all the great blessings and mercies that I have enjoyed. I have traveled many times throughout the U.S.A. and Canada and have been on preaching tours across Europe several times. Everywhere, I have preached with love and authority and have been well received.
It is not my purpose to sow the seeds of hatred and bitterness, but rather to show by the Gospel how to win Roman Catholics to Christ. I constantly remind people of those wonderful words in the first chapter of John, which form part of the last Gospel, read at the end of every mass in the Roman Catholic Church. “He came unto His own, and His own received Him not. But as many as received Him, to them gave He power to become the sons of God, even to them that believe on His name” (John 1:11). Praise be to that Holy Name forever. AMEN.