The conversion of St. Paul literally knocked him off his horse. The conversion of St. Ignatius of Loyola severely broke his leg. My conversion story, with the hopes of a path to sainthood, however, almost left me with a fractured skull. Although it seemed a minor experience at the time, it has been since the incident that I have matured in my faith and spiritual growth. Little did I know how the “The Bat Coming To Me” would change who I am.
The experience began on a pleasant September morning. I hurriedly ran into my Sophomore Morality class, for fear I would be late. Astutely, I took my seat just in time before the period bell rang. Music played in the background. The period bell rang. The music stopped. The entire class looked around. All of a sudden, out of nowhere, a red-haired man in a lopsided faux-hawk emerged from the shadowy corner of the classroom—with a wooden baseball bat.
Mr. Vilinsky, my morality teacher, bounded onto his desk and swung the bat like a madman. “This is a fuzzy pool noodle!” he exclaimed. He jumped down, momentarily staring at the entire class with crazy, wild eyes. “[J.A.], I don’t care what you say.” He raced across the room to my desk. “Don’t believe me, it feels the same as a fuzzy pool noodle!” Without knowing what was going on, I felt— Bam! Mr. Vilinsky slammed the bat down onto my desk. I felt the breeze of the wood come so close to my face I could smell the maple. Then he threw the bat against the wall. It splintered into dozens of pieces, just like major league baseball bats do. One of the pieces of bat flew toward my face. I ducked just in time to miss one of the most painful splinters of my life. Clearly this was not a fuzzy pool noodle.
Even though Mr. Vilinsky apologized for the accidental breaking of his baseball bat, I was still severely shaken up from the whole ordeal. He went on to explain that our minds do not create reality themselves, but reality reveals truth to our minds. The baseball bat was still the baseball bat, no matter how badly Mr. Vilinsky had wanted it to be a fuzzy pool noodle. It was the first time that I had ever thought about how truth affected my life—how it literally came flying at me in the face. Appropriately enough the lesson plan was named “The Bat Comes To Me.”
Since then, I have truly attempted to delve deep into my faith, going on multiple retreats, reading books by renown Christian authors such as C.S. Lewis and St. Thomas Aquinas, and being actively involved in my youth group. All of these things and more I have done in pursuit of God’s revealing truth in my life. Sometimes it just takes a flying baseball bat towards your noggin to light a spark. I would not have had it any other way.
