Catholic Mercy: A Road to Conversion
Conversion Testimony by Ken Allbon

The beginnings of my journey in faith were gradual.  I was brought up in the secular lifestyle fairly typical of Britain in the second half of the Twentieth Century.  During my youth, my curiosity encouraged me to join the local Church Sunday School.  This did not result in any regular attendance at Church, but I can remember the enjoyment of my Sunday School classes.  For some years my Christian education seems to have been limited to what I was taught there and in the ‘Scripture’ classes at school.

My timid hankering after faith continued into my secondary school years.  Looking back on this time with the benefit of hindsight, I feel sure that the gentle voice of jesus was whispering in my ear, though I only heard him from time to time.  By and large he was drowned out by the vibrant noise of those teenage years.  But I still have clear memories of my confusion in school assemblies (which in those far-off days were still of a religious nature), when we spoke profound prayers full of unusual ideas.  It was never explained.  It was as though there was a distinctly separate world, not quite real, but safely boxed up in assembly and never let out.  No one talked of these concepts in every-day life, at least not to me.  I can remember pondering, as we sang some particularly stirring hymn in assembly, if God has such tremendous power, as indicated by these words, why on earth does he fail to make any impression on most of my fellow pupils, let alone the teachers?  This question would not go away.

These background feelings persisted during my busy years at university and college.  My teacher training was done at Culham Church of England College at Abingdom, near Oxford.  Here the opportunity of regular daily attendance at Chapel was available.  I took this opportunity, and started to learn my first real lessons about the Christian faith.  I was baptised and confirmed as an Anglican at Culham.  Even then, I felt I was still only taking my initial steps in faith.

By now my teaching jobs now kept me very busy, at first in Surrey and later in Kent.  I was very glad that I had chosen this work, which I found exhausting but most enjoyable.  The work with young people was full of vibrancy and fun.  It was its own reward.  My active expression of my fledgling religious faith was minimal at this time; though there were periods of Church attendance, there were long years without it.  As the years passed and my responsibilities as a teacher increased, so did my workload.

Yet the nudging of the Holy Spirit did not cease, and I knew that in the depths of my heart, my yearning for God continued.  One day, for some extraordinary reason (I cannot remember what prompted it), I was quite suddenly struck by the fact that I was a sinner.  I realized that God wanted my love and that I had failed to respond to him.  I was sinning in my selfish life and relationships, and that if I did not open myself to God I might be lost to him.  I prayed desperately to him, to save me from my sins.  I told him that without his help I knew I should be lost.  I could see no other way out.

Life and work continued until, some months later, I quite spontaneously became aware of the fact that the mortal sins that were troubling me had mysteriously ceased.  I had made no effort or thought; they just vanished.  The pattern of my life had changed.  There were, and still are, plenty of venial sins of course.  My overwhelming joy was in realising that God himself had heard me, and had responded to my desperation in his own gentle and completely unobtrusive way.  I think this was the first major step I had made in drawing closer to God, and in appreciating the nature of his mighty power.  The remarkable truth was that I only made this step because, in his love, he himself had first moved my feet!  I knew then that we only have to call upon him for his gracious mercy, and he will amaze us in the fullness of his response.  I became convinced of the efficacy of prayer and of Our Lord’s saying: “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick; I came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.” (Lk 5:31-2) I had been sick, and I was healed by the life-giving touch of our blessed Saviour.

My brother, who had always had a strong faith, converted to Catholicism when he was in his twenties.  Since then, he had frequently prevailed upon me to follow his example.  He lived and still lives in Bristol.  I enjoyed attending Mass with him at Clifton Cathedral, and so became familiar with the Catholic liturgy.  It appealed to me, and I can only think that I did not convert earlier because of lethargy or pressure of work.  As things turned out it took more profound events to draw me finally into the Catholic Church.

In 2001, at the age of thirteen, my godson Anthony was diagnosed with bone cancer.  He died eighteen months later.  I loved Anthony deeply, and simply beholding his suffering and that of his family was a great trial.  I could not imagine what they were going through, how they managed to cope.  I did all I could to help, but felt useless in the family’s desperate circumstances.  By now I was living in Seaford, close enough to the family home to see Anthony practically every day as his health declined.  I felt the need to pray and to do so regularly in Church.  As it happened, the only Church open during the day where I could seek solace and quiet for prayer, was the Catholic Church of St. Thomas More.  During my frequent prayer there, I discovered the warmth of God’s love; it was as though i was folded in his arms and lifted up in my grief.  I came to see that grief is a gift from God.  In our sorrow and our tears he comes to us in his boundless compassion and brings us his healing.

As I was so frequently at the Church I soon came to know Parish members who were most welcoming.  At last I approached the Parish Priest, who listened to my story with patience and kindness.  As a result I was received into the Catholic Church at Easter 2003.  I had been a long time getting there, but it is a decision I shall never regret.  I was warmly welcome into the Church, where I have made many friends, and though I have a lot still to learn, I now know that I am fully a member of the body of Christ.

Just before my reception into the Church I had the deepest religious experience of my life.  It was at the time of my first Confession.  I had spent the day preparing for it.  I had harboured a foolish suspicion that this sacrament might not work.  When the time came for the confession I made a complete mess of it, forgetting all the words I had so carefully prepared.  I thought that the Priest, who had already heard many confessions during the evening, must have seen me as incoherent and/or mad.  But he was very kind: he told me to let God into my heart, and duly absolved me.  I came away from the experience feeling disappointed, thinking that my confession had failed, largely because of my own pathetic contribution.  On returning home I made my penance by saying the “Our Father”.  Feeling very tired, I went to bed, still unhappy at my failure to cope, and fell into a rather restless sleep.

I awoke abruptly just before 3 am.  As I woke I still felt distressed about the events of the previous evening.  Yet almost at once, a feeling of calm and love came over me.  I can remember thinking then that the Holy Spirit was with me.  A quiet voice now seemed to speak inside me.  It said: “You are a human being, kind and cruel, good and wicked.  Sometimes you love the Father and sometimes you forget him.  In this you are one with all human beings.  Be reassured and at peace about your reconciliation.  The words you say do not matter, and what you forget to confess does not matter.  This is my sacrament.  I have carried your sins to the Father.”  At this point I was weeping, but the gentle, loving words continued: “In you and around you there are two gardens: the Garden of Gethsemane and the Garden of Paradise.  These make your home now.”

He continued, “Your beloved Anthony is with me.”  I saw Anthony’s little face, bright with the glory of God, in happiness and love.  “He is helping me with the wounded and broken children of the world.  He has his every wish granted.”  I was quite overwhelmed by now, but after my tears I became calm again and managed to say, “Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit…”

Now there was silence.  But I sensed a light, at first in the distance; it moved towards me and became brighter.  Within the light appeared the clear elements of a figure.  I knew this was Jesus.  His arms were raised and I saw the source of the light; the wounds in his hands shone with brilliant radiating light, and his feet were standing in fire.  There were stars round his crown and from his side there came a fountain of light, sparkling red and white, like rubies and diamonds.  For a brief moment I felt enfolded in the immense power of his warmth and love.  Then I slept.

When I woke in the morning I was refreshed and happy.  My disappointment about the confession was now completely gone.  It seemed that a transforming event had taken place in my journey of faith.  By the grace of God I was brought face to face with the reality of the sacrament.  I know that I have done nothing to deserve this, but I also know that my sins are forgiven, as I had been shown once before, so long ago.

My journey in faith has been a long one, for it has occupied most of my life.  At first the pace of the journey was gentle, but the Lord was persistent in his calling, and never failing in his encouragement of my response to his loving initiation.  At last I awoke from my slumbers.  Christ’s call would not be denied; his grace was overwhelming, and the changes in my life were both rapid and fundamental.  The metaphor of awakening from sleep is appropriate to these changes, for I have become more fully conscious than I ever was; it is as though my perception has changed as I see the world anew.  The door of faith has been opened and the Lord Jesus has invited me, a sinner, to enter into my true home, his One, Holy Catholic and Apostolic Church, and to find everlasting refreshment there.  The glory of our faith is that we know his mercy is available for us all – a mercy that has now brought me to the fullness of His Embrace.

Ken Allbon is a member of the Continuity Movement and regularly takes part in the Continuity Holy Hour at Seaford.