Outside of Grace
Although most of my former Christian friends never said it outright, their actions spoke loudly—they believed I was outside the state of grace. They were mostly Reformed Calvinists, and while they would affirm that I was forgiven at conversion—my past, present, and future sins covered by Christ’s righteousness through faith alone—the way they treated me told a different story. Despite my repentance, I was treated like a leper.
At that time, I would have done anything the church asked of me, even if it meant wearing a scarlet "A" on my chest for the rest of my life. But instead of guidance or support, I was met with silence. I cried out in repentance, but no one responded. It felt like there was some unspoken penance I had to pay. Yet, according to Reformed theology, that idea wouldn’t hold, so they simply left me without answers.
I began to wonder if repentance was even possible for me. Maybe I wasn’t chosen, not one of God’s elect. If that were true, I didn’t know where to turn. I felt paralyzed, echoing Peter’s words, “Lord, to whom shall we go?”
Throughout my adult life, I had been a casual drinker—a beer with dinner or on vacation. But during this difficult season, I began drinking more and more, seeking release in something I had warned others against.
While reading “The Twelve Steps and the Sacraments” by Scott Weeman, I came across a profound statement from Dr. Peter Kleponis, a significant Catholic voice in the recovery movement. He writes:
“Most addicts live with an incredible amount of shame. They think, ‘How can anybody love me?’ In fact, what I’ve found is that most addicts live their lives by five core beliefs. The first is that I am unworthy of being loved—I am unlovable. Second, if people really knew me, they would reject me. Third, I can’t count on anyone, including God, to meet my needs. So therefore, fourth, I need to find something I can control that will meet my needs, and thus, fifth, sex and pornography (or whatever one’s addiction) is my greatest need and source of comfort. These are the thoughts that get them caught up in the vicious cycle of addiction and keep them there. There’s a tremendous shame that gets perpetuated with all of this.”
These core beliefs captured exactly how I felt during that time. I believed that if people truly knew me, they would reject me—just as my church had done. I felt like the prodigal son who returned home only to find his older brother waiting in the driveway, saying, “This isn’t your home anymore, and Dad doesn’t want to see you.”
But now I know that these beliefs are not my reality. By God’s grace, He led me—a former Reformed pastor—to the Catholic faith, where I have finally found His love and grace.
