I was, for a time, a very pious Roman Catholic. I attended mass every day, said my prayers, studied theology, and accepted the authority of the Sacred Scriptures and the Apostolic Tradition. Throughout it all, however, doubt always nagged at me. I remember following the Easter Sunday mass at the Mother House of Sisters of Providence of Saint Vincent DePaul (my great aunt Olive was a member of the order), joining in with a priest reciting Revelation 11:15, “And He shall reign forever and ever.” The priest added emphatically, “Yes, forever and ever.” “Oh wow, you really believe that?” was the first thought that crossed my mind. Doubt was ever present while I tried to practice Roman Catholicism. Some years later, at a suburban parish at the Easter Vigil, a woman behind me was pouring candies from a bag into her children’s hands while the priest was busy reciting the words for the lighting of the Sacred Fire. The sound of the candies pouring out of the bag was an annoying distraction, and it was following this that seemingly out of nowhere, doubt struck, and I found myself wondering, “What on Earth am I doing here? Do I really believe any of this?” I left the Vigil as I felt it wasn’t very good of me to stay.

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