Philip Habib
“The most beautiful and stirring adventure that can happen to you is the personal meeting with Jesus” – JPII
Firstly, ‘sup to all my cradle Catholic homies! The first time I gave a testimony, I honestly thought that my being a cradle Catholic that left the nest for a while until returning home was something no one had ever done before, but eventually realized that I am not alone in that part of the journey (but that’s a story for another time).
Secondly, I always feel like I need to preface these stories with the fact that my coming back to the faith didn’t happen because of some miraculous moment, a supernatural encounter with God, or some amazing retreat; it happened very slowly, which is why I often call it my ‘reversion adventure’.
Okay, story time.
It was not until I was in high school that I started my adventure away from the Catholic Church. As a teenager, I wasn’t rebellious, but I was tired of having to waste my Sundays listening to an old priest guy talk to the other old people in my church about some 2000 year old guy and his life (I think the average age of my church growing up was about 101 years old). The only reason I would ever go to Mass during high school was to make my mom happy, but even that motivation started to dwindle, and I got pretty good at avoiding Mass. Another thing I was tired of having to do was religion classes in high school. It felt like all I did for 3 years in religion class was color in crosses and watch Prince of Egypt. And unbeknownst to me, it was this aversion to religion classes that would commence my adventure back home.
In my last year of high school, I had the option to take a Philosophy class instead of a religion class. Without thinking twice, I enrolled in the Philosophy class, finally leaving religion behind; I was going to learn how to think for myself! Second semester started and I will never forget the first day of Philosophy class. I still remember the layout of the room, where I sat on that first day, and what the teacher told us about himself. He mentioned he was a practicing Catholic and that those views would inevitably find their way into the content. I don’t think I had ever come face-to-face with a man who was so unapologetically Catholic. Looking back to that grade 12 class, my teacher answered every question I had about the Catholic faith without my needing to ask. Out of the blue he would start up a conversation about something semi-related to the faith, and I would just listen to everything this man had to say! When it ended, and through the graces of this class, I resolved to stop skipping Sunday Mass. Now, to be clear, I didn’t start going to Sunday Mass because I had all the answers and was convinced of everything the Catholic Church taught, rather, this Philosophy class made me realize that the Catholic Church claimed to have all the answers, and every answer I had heard thus far from the side of the Catholic Church truly made sense.
That summer, I did a really good job at attending Sunday Masses; in fact, I even went alone one Sunday because my mom went to Scarborough to go to Mass with her mom! Then my first year of University started, and boy, did my resolve change in an instant: New city, no family, no Mass! I honestly remember thinking those words to myself; looking back on it now, I really must have given God a laughing fit. I moved into residence on a Sunday, so missing Mass that Sunday was easy-peasy. Then began frosh week! It was time to meet the entirety of McMaster University, make tons of new friends, and start living my best life. In the middle of frosh week, while walking around Hamilton in my PJ’s, getting kisses on the cheek from the nursing students, I heard my name being called from behind me: “Facebook Phil?!” I turned around to see two girls who knew the only high school friend I had at McMaster (my friend had previously started a Facebook chat with the four of us, and I was pretty silent on the chat). While talking with them, one of them asked me out of the blue if I was Catholic. Now just because I avoided Mass didn’t take away from my self-identification as a Catholic, so I told them an excited “yes!” THEN the unthinkable happened… They invited me to go to Sunday Mass with them. I didn’t want to say no because, well, good Catholics go to Sunday Mass and I just said I was a Catholic, so I agreed to go.
I later found out that the two girls I met in the middle of Hamilton lived in the same residence I did (shout-out Hedden Hall). So, on Sunday, I made my way over to their room, then met up with my high school friend, got brunch, and went to Mass. I only realized the effects this Mass had on me later in my life, but in hindsight, it checked a lot of firsts. ‘Twas the first time I got to go to Mass with friends (outside of a school Mass). ‘Twas the first time a priest gave a homily that applied to my life (about balancing studies and prayer). ‘Twas the first time I got shivers down my spine from listening to the choir sing. It was probably the first time I smiled in Mass. After Mass, there was a social downstairs, and I met so many amazing people. I had met quite a few people during frosh week, but there was something special about this group of people I met in the basement of the church.
Meeting these people led me to McMaster’s Catholic Chaplaincy’s first event. I don’t know what it was (it was definitely the Praise and Worship events on Monday nights) and I don’t know why (again, probably the Praise and Worship events), but I fell in love with everything this chaplaincy (MACSA) had to offer.
This lays out the beginning of my adventure home.
In second year, I fell deep into the pleasures of alcohol and parties. In third year, I came to learn that I should be praying every day and reading the Bible (honestly, no one told me that, so I never did). In fourth year, I attended WYD in Krakow and met the priest who became my Spiritual Director, and a great friend. I ended up joining an amazing movement in the Church, Jesus Youth, and learned that there was more than one way to live out one’s spirituality. I learned the importance of having a community to speak very openly with about personal struggles in the faith. I started to consider the priesthood as a possible option for my future. I continued to work with youth ministries, volunteer at ministries, altar serve, and attend (and serve) my first Easter Vigil. I learned that I had (and still have) so much more growing to do in my faith.
Three years have passed since the end of fourth year. I’m still growing in my faith. I still forget to pray. I usually read the Bible. I’m terrible at praying the daily Rosary. I’ve consecrated myself to Mary and Joseph. I’ve completed Exodus 90. I’ve (now I’m 99.9% positive) discerned my Vocation. I’ve felt immense consolation through the intercession of Momma Mary. I’ve felt palpable desolation. I’ve MC’d lots of Catholic events. But most importantly, I’ve found my childhood room in the home of the Lord.
“AND WHEN JESUS SAW THEIR FAITH, HE SAID TO THE PARALYTIC, “CHILD YOUR SINS ARE FORGIVEN.””
“THE MOST BEAUTIFUL AND STIRRING ADVENTURE THAT CAN HAPPEN TO YOU IS THE PERSONAL MEETING WITH JESUS. ”