My story

I am not a theologist but I know that it was Virgin Mary who brought me home from “war”. – This was an experience of my grandfather, which helped him to walk through a valley of death. He was a barber and as an officer during the Second World War he experienced explosions of bombs and shooting too. He suffered from malaria for the rest of his life.

When I hung up, I felt better. A testimony of my grandfather from the other side of the Atlantic Ocean brought a light into a darkness of my doubts. Doubts about a belief are like an earthquake: we have no place to hide; we have nothing to hold on. We suddenly suspect parents, friends, Church and teachers from a wrong teaching. Do they all live in an error? Or why do I have doubts?

At a back seat

“Let’s go children, clean your shoes, and get on the car!”

This was a part of a Sunday morning ritual. After a good breakfast with sisters we cleaned shoes and went to a mass with parents. I grew up in a catholic family in Herford – a rural town of 60 000 people in Westphalia in North-Western Germany. It was a big fun to play in a local forest or at a farm with friends, to build dikes in a brook. I was an expert in catching fish and shooting from a bow.

Our family was different than others. We ate fish on Friday and we gave up sweets during a Lent. None of my school mates from a primary school got up on Sunday at seven in the morning to go to a mass. Religion wasn’t important for them. Later I attended a catholic school; even it meant to commute much further than other children, what meant a considerable sacrifice for my parents. But this kept us together: we are Catholics.

But I still wasn’t on my own journey of faith. I still was sitting, said in a metaphor, at a back seat of a car of my parents and my belief was a black and white copy of their belief. A children’s Bible, classes of religion, a Sunday mass went through this “copy machine” and although my picture was the same as at my parents, some lines were not clear. A colour of a personal experience was missing. That colour was waiting for me in Canada.

A light form the North

“What a broad horizon!” I exclaimed after getting off the plane. In a school year 1991-92 in my 16 I flew to Canada as an exchange student. I lived in Barrhead, Alberta, in a town with 3000 people. A host family consisted of a divorced mother and two children. I was their tutor. I didn’t expect that right in that house I would meet Christ.

Joe, my good friend from a high school, invited me to a club of Japan martial arts jiu-jitsu, where he was a trainer’s assistant. I started to go there regularly. A trainer Phil had a black belt and he was a Lutheran. Dressed up in judo kit and between push-ups, kicks and hits we talked about theology: What did Jesus say about Eucharist? Why can we pray to Virgin Mary? Gradually I started to ask myself why I am a Catholic. Is it only because I was born in a Catholic family? I knew a teaching about Christ but as it seemed, Phil had experiences which I was missing. He had not only knowledge but also a personal relation with Jesus. His love to Jesus and piety impressed me very much.

In spring we head out to a martial tournament somewhere in Rocky Mountains in British Columbia. We travelled whole 24 hours. Phil was telling me on the way how when a child he stopped practicing faith and started with Asian meditation. He tried to empty his mind and to reach a state of nirvana. In one moment he was immersed in a spiritual world, when suddenly he felt darkness and a presence of a devil grasping his soul to seize it. He cried in panic: “God!” – and by saying this word a devil’s presence disappeared. Phil told about his experience to his girl friend who was a Lutheran. She took him to a pastor and under his guidance Phil found Jesus Christ again. Then he was teaching jiu-jitsu to pay for a study of theology. He knew his faith and he treated me very kindly. We celebrated my birthday at his home and his mother even baked a cake for me.

To be or not to be

I returned back to the house in Barrhead in early morning hours of a cold April day. All were still sleeping. It was snowing and the sun just started to come up. I sat at a sofa in a living room and I was looking out of a big window in front of me. I was meditating about last days, weeks, and months. What is really important? What does it all mean for me? Suddenly a light of truth lightened my soul: Jesus Christ is real! Jesus is a real living person, my friend and a saviour! He died for me on a cross! He cleansed me from my sins. He opened a way for me to an eternal life. I know that his love is the most important thing in a world. I had an indescribable joy in my heart and my life changed. Love of Christ healed something in me and I felt strong as never before. A chain, by which I was bound, was broken. “I am free!”

Now I want be really a Christian. I had many doubts and questions. I felt like an earth was moving under me. When I called with my grandfather who told me about how Virgin Mary helped him, I felt better for a while but I needed more. I wanted to speak with a priest.

A parish priest wasn’t at home then, but a bishop came on Sunday. Even after years I can remember that he came to preach about priest vocations. I wasn’t thinking about a vocation. I spoke with a bishop’s secretary, father Francois from Quebec, for two hours. He explained to me in detail how it is with our faith. We have a complete original, no shortened versions, no remix. It convinced me.

Rosary rebel

A father of my friend Joe told me once:

“Pray a rosary every day and you will have no more problems with a faith.” “Great,” I told him. “And how is a rosary prayed?”

I didn’t know it, because it wasn’t usual to pray this prayer in my parish. Joe gave me his rosary on a way home, a brief explanation with it and a little card with fifteen mysteries. I had to be afraid for my faith very much, because already at that night I prayed all 15 mysteries.

From that day I prayed a rosary every night; also when I came back home from a party early in the morning. It took me months, until I learned to share feelings with Christ and Mary. I got to like mysteries of a sorrowful rosary, from which it is possible to see how greatly Christ loves us. I wanted to tell the whole world about Christ’s love.

In July 1992 I returned back to Germany. Many old friends changed: discoloured hair, smoking, long nights at discos… They were looking for a personal freedom, which I had already found in Jesus Christ. They were rebels from a principle and they became slaves of passions, fashion and music. A rosary gave me an access to love outside this world too. I was myself because I leaned on Christ.

I had different feelings. Already as a catechist in our own parish I found out how much children need Christ. “A priest lives for Christ 24 hours daily,” I told myself. It is something to which I would want to dedicate my life. If I got at least one soul into heaven, I would do something, what would be forever. What better could I do with my life? When I talked to my best friend, he lifted his eyebrows and said: “You maybe have a priest vocation…” A though to become a priest left as it came, but it steadied in me with cumulating prayers. At the end it was a part of my personal rebellion. If you don’t understand, try to say:

“I shall become a priest!”

And you will provoke much more interest as any punkhead.

 

Later I learned to want to be a priest just for God’s love. My parish priest helped me by his example. I saw him praying on his own in front of a tabernacle. “This really is a God’s man,” I told myself. A priest at school in Bielefeld was also a good example for me.

A real thing

I met Legionaries of Christ at a spiritual recollection for youth in Bonn. A Father Eamon Kelly impressed me very much. He had a personal relation with God, a real love to Christ, Church, Virgin Mary and to the pope too. “I want to be a priest like this,” I told myself. A father Albert Gutberlet and a father Klaus Einsle were also there, who sang a song about vocations. When I read information about congregation, it was love at the first sight. I knew: „This will be my spiritual order“

At first however I had to finish a high school in 1994. When my parents drove me to a monastery, my mother said: “Lad, there is much you will have to change!” She was right – it wasn’t easy at all. But I had what I wanted: a good priest formation oriented at Christ and an environment of a real brotherhood.

My experience with Christ grew during studies of humanities in Spanish Salamanka; also during studies of philosophy in New York; as well as during four years of apostolic work with youth in the Czech Republic, Poland and Slovakia; and especially during studies of philosophy and theology in Rome. I found out that priesthood is not an employment – it means to live love.