The incredulity with which this friend (and he wouldn’t be the last) asked me this question was partially amusing, but also curious. Did he not believe that I could be a born again Christian? Did he doubt that the likes of me could associate with being a ‘Church guy’? Was he expressing doubt about my commitment to such a calling? And what did he mean by ‘fully’? Is there a partial born-again-ness stage that I had missed along the way?

I didn’t blame him though. He had known me for a number of years, and the trail of worldliness I had left behind me wasn’t one to be scoffed at. The unfortunate bit was he didn’t stick around long enough to know more about my journey to the Cross. He wouldn’t be the last friend I’d lose as a consequence of this decision either. 

I was born into a Roman Catholic household. I did the sacraments, virtually all of them at precisely the appropriate time. I was an altar boy, maybe more like a senior altar boy since I had the enviable task of preparing the priest’s liturgical vestments before Mass. No, I did not ever secretly get drunk on the Church wine. I was in the youth group, those who do the stereotypical Catholic dances that have been the butt of many a comedian’s jokes. In high school I was a dedicated member of the Young Catholic Association, rising to the rank of Vice Chairman by my final year. During my undergraduate studies, I directed the Catholic Students Annual play.

The point I’m trying to make here is I had every reason to grow into a fine, young Catholic Man.

Except I didn’t.

I have dedicated myself to Mentoring young Men aged between 18 and 24, as many as my limited capacity allows. I speak to them, I invite them into my home, I meet them virtually, I attend their events, anything I can do to be a voice from the future that better prepares them for the years ahead.

My message revolves around this. You are at a critical, life defining moment of your life. A detour into the wrong path now could lead you down a treacherous road from which you will emerge 10, 15 years later with regrets, baggage and lost years to restore. So I ask them to treat these 7 years like a treasure. I challenge them to equip themselves with as much knowledge as they can. I ask them to strengthen their spirituality. I exhort them to question the company they keep, and the guidance they seek. I encourage them to question their beliefs, and to hold loosely anything they feel sure of. At least until they hit 25. And recently, I’ve been nudging them to find the girl they intend to marry. But more on that later.

You are probably wondering what all this has to do with being a born again Christian.

For the ones I find within the confines of a Christian Church, I unequivocally tell them to seek Christ, and give their lives to him. I then ask that they base every life decision they make moving forward on the basis of this foundation. I wish someone told me all this as a 21 year old. Or maybe they did, and I just didn’t listen. 

I gave my life to Christ at age 34. That was at least 16 years too late if you ask me. I was fresh off a marital separation that had lasted nearly 8 months, headed for divorce. Unbeknown to anyone who knew me, my wife included, I had been addicted to pornography since I was a teenager. My sense of sexual purity was so warped that nothing less than a personal encounter with Christ himself would heal me. I have a lot of respect for the Roman Catholic Church, and my parents still subscribe to it. I lose count of the number of times I went to confession about a sexual sin, and the number of Hail Marys I said afterwards. It wasn’t until I gave my life to Christ in a protestant Church, and started pursuing intimacy with Jesus Christ beyond the exercise of religious practices that my healing began.

And this isn’t the biggest yoke from my former life that got fully transformed as a result of this one decision.