Last year I wrote a post about the never-ending splits within Protestant churches and my own distaste for this as a "catholic-minded" Episcopalian. At the time, I said I was considering joining the Roman Catholic Church. Thirteen months later, I am not only one step closer, but I may have passed the point where I can no longer go back.

I've reached my breaking point, and it has nothing to do with the headline issues—where I actually come down on the "liberal" side— or with the deeper theological fractures like communion without baptism—where I am an unbending traditionalist. Instead, it has come down to an intolerable situation right here in Eugene, Oregon.

We left our old parish—the church where we were married and where our daughter was baptized—over a major dispute with the Rector. This dispute, involving my daughter's so-called disruptions during Mass, left us feeling unwelcome to the point where we could no longer be in that church or even in the same room with that priest.

He has recently retired, and I expected him and his wife to relocate to the Midwest where their grandchildren live. That's what I would do, and though we had no intent of returning to our old parish we were relieved that we would no longer risk running into him out in public.

Then just a few days ago I found out that he has not only decided to remain in Eugene, but he is now the "Rector Emeritus" of the parish. Instead of hiring a new rector, at least for the time being, the vestry have given their assistant priest the title "Priest-in-Charge" along with rector's workload while allowing their former rector to retain his power behind the scenes.

Ultimately, this is the vestry's call, and we really don't care how they run their parish. That same day, though, I found out that our former rector was filling in for the summer at another parish in town. A parish we might have visited not knowing he'd be there celebrating the Eucharist.

So now we're faced with the situation that we might run into him at any of the local Episcopal churches. Worse, our daughter would be with us and he, through his actions, gave up the right to ever see her again. This leaves me, as the Episcopalian in the family, with two choices: leave Eugene or leave the Episcopal Church. My wife's job prohibits the former so I'm left with the latter.

My wife will be ok. She has the same disagreements with the Vatican that I do, but she was raised Catholic and is more comfortable overall in Catholic churches. My daughter is too young to know she was baptized in an Episcopal Church, and will settle right in. RCIA will be a breeze for me, I could probably teach it myself given my grounding in Catholic theology and practice.

The hard part will be giving up all the things I love about the Episcopal Church: the liturgy, the music, the vested servers—I doubt I'll ever be able to distribute communion in street clothes—the abundant use of incense, bells, and holy water in Anglo-Catholic parishes, the chanted Eucharistic prayers, and litanies. All of these things could, and honestly should, be part of Catholic Masses, but in my experience they rarely are. Guitars and tambourines? Yes! "Smells and bells?" Not so much.

Maybe once I join I could find other former Anglicans, or other musicians interested in chant. Maybe I can find a sympathetic priest just waiting for the right parishioner to get something going. After all, I am a follower of Christ and in Christ there is always hope. All I know is that we need a church to raise Anna in and I'm left with one option.

It's time to cross the Tiber.

Last month I talked about my lucky streak finding used bibles at Goodwill. Well, as far as book selection in general goes, Goodwill is usually more miss than hit. I did find a hardback Chicago Manual of Style last week, but overall I do about as well at Goodwills as I do at yard sales.

The best thrift store for books in my experience is definitely St. Vincent de Paul. With rare exception, their book sections are large and well-organized and their prices are well below what a used bookstore can afford to charge.

Today provides a great example. I finally got around to using some of my Barnes and Noble gift card today. I purchased Expecting Adam by Martha Beck and Writing About Your Life by William Zissner for $15 each, less member discount. I also thought about purchasing The Middle Place by Kelly Corrigan, which also lists for $15, but I decided to wait. Maybe I could find a better price online.

After dinner, I stopped by a St. Vincent's close to our apartment and browsed through the memoir section. Within minutes, I found a like-new copy of The Middle Place in paperback for $1.50. My reluctance at Barnes and Noble ended up saving me $13.50

From now on, I'll be checking St. Vincent's first.

Apparently, Goodwill's are a great place to find used bibles. Last week, I found a Revised English Bible with Apocrypha in hardback for $5 and yesterday I found a New English Bible with Apocrypha, also hardback and in very good condition, for $4. So I can check one more bible off my list.

As for the others I'm wanting to get, only the Douay Rheims is old enough to find it's way to a Goodwill, yet despite the numerous KJVs I find at every store I stop in, I have yet to stumble across the traditional language Catholic equivalent.

The English Standard Version is very recent. Oxford just published an edition with the Apocrypha last year, so the chances of one finding it's way to a used book store of any kind are small. The Orthodox Study Bible is only two years old, so it's also unlikely I'll find one used.

I was looking back over some of my old posts today, and I stumbled across this one:

Why Are We Still Talking About It

You can read it for yourself—please do, I think it's pretty good—but the gist of it is this: I banned a list of fourteen topics from this blog including Number 8: "Any Twitter feeds not from Iran." At the time, I had no interest in tweeting myself and never imagined I'd have a reason to change my mind.

Well now I'm on Twitter and by mentioning this fact, even somewhat in jest, I violated my ban. Worse, now that I'm tweeting I'll have to drop this ban altogether.

I apologize for breaking a promise I wouldn't have made if I knew better. Consider me being on Twitter as my penance.

About five weeks ago, I wrote a piece explaining my family's personal stake in the passage of Health Care Reform. Needless to say, I was overjoyed when the Senate bill passed in the House that weekend and then the Reconciliation pakage passed the Senate a few days  later.

More good news followed. Anna was accepted by Oregon Healthy Kids at the beginning of April. She is now covered and we've scheduled both her four-year checkup and her first dental exam. Unfortunately, our income disqualified Julia and I from the Oregon Health Plan. Now we had two options: either Julia would gain permanent employment with benefits or we would be able to apply for high risk insurance through the Department of Health and Human Services in July—six months after we lost our previous coverage.

Then came the third bit of good news. Julia was hired to a permanent position with excellent benefits. We had up to thirty days to decide on a package, but the coverage was retroactive to her first day of employment. Our three and a half month journey through the insurance wilderness was over.

I will never forget that journey, and I won't forget the thirty plus million Americans still wandering in the wilderness.