I became curious about religion and theology just before my junior year of high school. It had always been something that I had taken for granted, but slowly it became of peak interest to me. My closest friend in high school was a stringent atheist so we would have incredibly long conversations pertaining to almost any topic you can imagine. Our conversations would typically consist of us talking about an argument that we heard or read online since the last time we spoke and discussing it. This would repeat as our conversations evolved from argument to argument, and from topic to topic. Those conversations were the beginning of my inquiry into religion and faith.
At this time, I was becoming increasingly interested in the study of various world religions and the question of which one, if any, is true. I soon realized that if I were going to believe in God, and especially in an organized religion, I was going to need a good reason for it. I had a strange fascination with studying Christianity. Growing up Jewish, this was not only a topic that wasn’t discussed, it was never considered interesting enough to look into. I became very interested in Christianity’s history, its different sects and groups, and its diversity of theological positions, histories, and practices. I found myself squared with the central truth claim of Christianity: Did Jesus of Nazareth rise from the dead? Christians profess that this is an actual historical event that took place some 2,000 years ago, and to be a Christian you must believe it too. On its surface, this is quite striking and frankly absurd. How could one come to believe that let alone prove it historically‽ However, I slowly came to believe that there was better evidence than most people assume, and after much research I came to believe this as well.
While I was investigating the claims of mere Christianity (not the book), I was simultaneously investigating the claims of each particular subsection or group within Christianity and found myself drawn toward Catholicism. I found that the teachings of the Catholic Church were consistent with a Biblical and historical continuity of Christianity and, on a random day in April 2021, I officially decided to convert, at least intellectually.
The problem now was how to go about telling my family this. News began to spread during the beginning of my senior year throughout my high school. I became really one of the only practicing and professing religious people in my grade and everyone had something to say or some opinion based on a preconceived understanding of my beliefs. While each day I donned a cross during my time at school, I would take it off before returning to my Jewish household. I am quite ashamed to admit that I kept my conversion from my parents for an entire year.
When I finally told my family on Holy Thursday of 2022, they were surprised and upset. This became one of the most difficult times in my life and in my relationship with them. We would have long terrible conversations and arguments, the substance of which I will not repeat here. Much of this went on for months and would always bring me to tears and anger. My parents were very averse to all aspects of my conversion, but most specifically, to my desire to be baptized. They often said things to the effect of, “Why can’t you just believe what you want and go to church, but not be baptized?”
Because of this, I had to prolong my baptism. It was one of the hardest things I have had to endure. For two years I was outside the church waiting to be let in, yet I had no countdown. I yearned to receive the Eucharist so badly and wanted nothing more than to finally be a card-carrying Catholic. For so long it felt like it would never come.
But finally, I was able to talk about it with my parents and they understood that it was something that I really wanted and needed to do. I was finally at a place where I was sure that I was actually going through with this, all the arrangements were finally made and I had my parents understanding, yet it still felt distant and like it was never actually coming. I came to realize that this was likely because I had pushed something I wanted back so many times that I had been waiting for nearly two years with no end in sight.
This aside, the day did finally come, and I woke up that morning so nervous I was physically shaking for several hours. Eventually the time came to leave for the Vigil and my Baptism.
It was surreal. I was so nervous, even on our way there. We finally arrived at the church and a realization hit me, “I am going to enter this church unbaptized and leave as a full member of the Catholic Church.” The ceremony was incredible, starting at the entry to the church with the blessing of the new fire, a symbol of eternal life. It was blessed with many prayers, water, and incense. Passing the blessing of the Paschal candle was the solemn chanting of the twelve prophecies, which were twelve Old Testament Biblical readings encompassing all of salvation history, starting from the creation, moving to the Ark of Noah, the calling of Abraham, the Exodus, readings from the prophets including the story of Jonah, and others. While reading the English from the book in my hand, I slowly grew more and more nervous as I knew that after the twelfth prophecy was the start of the Baptismal Rite. The priest, deacons, and servers all began to process to the baptistry and I was called in with my sponsors. I walked to the baptistry with my godparents as the beautiful tract: Sicut Cervus from Psalm 42 was sung by the choir. Its opening line, “Sicut cervus desíderat ad fontes aquárum: ita desíderat ánima mea, ad te Deus.” “As a deer panteth after streams of living water, so my soul longs for thee, O my God.” While walking I began to cry and many tears began to stream down my face. We stood in front of the baptistry while the ministers began to bless the baptismal font.
After Father Higgins called me up, he started questioning me: he asked if I believed in God, in Jesus Christ, in the One Holy Church, he asked me why I wished to be baptized and finally, he beckoned me to the font. While leaning over I heard the words: “Ego te Baptizo, in nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti.” They were as loud as thunder, my heart pounding in my chest as the water poured down my head and onto my neck and forehead, I felt lighter, I felt new. He anointed me with oil, gave me a white garment to wear, and a lit candle to hold. After this, I processed with my sponsors to the sanctuary in front of the altar where I knelt down and was confirmed. He signed me with oils and sealed me with the power of the Holy Spirit as my sponsors stood on each side with a hand on my shoulder. After this, I went back to my pew as a fully received member of the Catholic Church. I began to pray and the only thoughts that ran through my head were “Thank you!”
The first Mass of Easter began and the Church was filled with its usual splendor of incense, chant, and finally the organ again. The mass proceeded as normal until I was called to lie prostrate in the aisle during the consecration. After that, I went up to receive communion for the first time which was an experience that shook me to my core. Every time I had been to Mass before, every Sunday, every feast day, every time I was with my friends, I always stood back as everyone else received. It was one of the things I longed for most and after I received I went back to my pew and lost it. I was a total mess, sobbing nearly uncontrollably. Still, the entire time I was praying the thought that was on my mind most was, “Thank you, God, thank you Lord for looking down on such an unworthy soul and calling him to you.”
The greatest thing that I came to realize after the whole ceremony was over was that now I had the rest of my life ahead of me. Christians believe that the day of your baptism is the most important day of your life, and that was now behind me. There are no more huge spiritual moments like this.
After we all went back to BC, and as things started to settle in, I began to be hit with the presence of sin. It felt almost omnipresent and, as the days went by, I began to really understand not only the importance of maintaining a holy life but also what was expected of me. In the days following my baptism, every time I would do something even slightly negative, the thought would cross my mind, “Was that a sin?” I got very quickly what people mean when they talk about “Catholic guilt.” I felt more morally culpable for my actions and it’s hard to say why this wasn’t there before. But what really hit me was this: it’s now the rest of my life, it’s mine to live out well, and it’s mine to mess up.
Born and Raised to Jewish parents in New York City, Kai Breskin is a recent convert to the Catholic Faith. A member of the Boston College class of 2026, he is studying Political Science, Philosophy, and History. His intellectual passions include Christian theology, history, and liturgical study. His hobbies include sailing, playing the piano, and singing, with a specific focus in Gregorian Chant.
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