Seeking and Finding

For Jennifer Prince, committing to Christianity took years of struggle.

For Debra Drake, decades of informal Roman Catholic practice only now have turned into formal baptism into the faith.

For 16-year-old Nick Markovich II, a church youth group led to a new way of life.

And for Steve Kovacs, the birth of his children served as the catalyst for embracing Christianity.

These four represent good news for the church this Easter, a time when, historically, Christians welcome newcomers into the faith. But, on a larger scale, they're swimming against the current.

The percentage of Americans who identify themselves as "Christian" fell from about 86 percent in 1990 to 76 percent last year, according to the 2008 American Religious Identification Survey released last month by Connecticut's Trinity College.

Even more striking: The percentage of Americans who identify themselves as having no religious affiliation nearly doubled, from about 8 percent to 15 percent in that same time period, the survey says.

Of course, not identifying oneself with a particular faith tradition doesn't equal "faithless." Yet, America's weakening bonds with denominational Christianity make such commitments as those by Prince, Drake, Markovich and Kovacs all the more interesting.

* * *

Jennifer Prince's journey to Christianity comes after a lifetime of more or less ignoring it.

"I've always believed in God," says Prince, 34. "I've just never been big (about being) in church.

"I was baptized and whatnot. But I could count only a handful of times in my life when I went to church."

And when she did go, "I'd walk out of there with tears in my eyes. I felt worse, like the most guilty person ever."

Prince flirted with religion, but says she often "made all the wrong decisions."

Then, about a year ago, Prince's fiancé became sick. While waiting in the hospital emergency room, she noticed people from First Presbyterian Church who had gathered because a church member had fallen ill.

Prince overheard them discuss many of the spiritual issues with which she had always struggled, about God and Jesus and what Christianity is about.

She describes it as "almost coincidental, or meant to be. I was like, 'Oh my God, is this God, right here?' Like, 'Did he really just actually step in?' And, obviously, I can't deny he was involved. I don't know if my heart was finally open to something, or just that I was finally done" searching.

The experience inspired Prince to seriously seek God.

In January, she fully committed, deciding to "give in to this great, great feeling."

Life remains a struggle, Prince admits. But when she has problems now, "I'm like, 'We don't have to be perfect.' If I might have a bad day, my bad day doesn't end with a horrible feeling of guilt."

Prince's faith also created a desire to give to others through charitable work. It's like, she says, finally becoming "somebody I always knew I was."

And she enjoys her church community. First Presbyterian "welcomed me."

"I definitely never, ever made it to the point where I wanted to be part of (a) church. I've never been that person, ever, in my life."

Prince likens the experience to driving down the street and looking at a house, wondering what it would be like to peer inside the windows at the good life the people there must be leading.

"I look at that house now, and I know I've got the keys for the house in my pocket," Prince says. "It's kind of a good feeling."

* * *

On Saturday evening, Debra Drake was scheduled to become a Catholic. But except for the formality of baptism, Drake, 55, has been a quasi-Catholic for years.

Although her parents "weren't particularly religious," she remembers sometimes attending Mass with her grandmother.

The first time was 5 or 6, "so I didn't understand much of what was going on. It was still in Latin. But I was awestruck. It was kind of awe-inspiring to a little kid. The tradition in the church is beautiful."

And as a teenager, "I remember praying and feeling that I really did have a close relationship with Jesus."

Throughout her life, Drake maintained informal ties with the Catholic Church.

She attends Mass. Her two children and two of her grandchildren were baptized in the church. She even thought, at times, of participating in the process that would lead to her baptism as a Catholic, but never quite found the time to do it.

Yet Drake came to consider herself "very much a Christian and a Catholic, even though I have never been baptized."

After retiring, Drake thought more seriously about joining the church.

"I (have been) able to attend church, but haven't been able to take Communion. I haven't been able to fully participate, which is the reason you go to Mass: to partake of the Eucharist."

About a year-and-a-half ago, Drake began the rite of Christian initiation program at St. Thomas More Catholic Community in Henderson.

Why become a Christian?

"I, personally, have to believe there's something bigger than me out there directing what goes on in this world. It's such a comfort for me to have my faith. I feel sad for people who don't have some kind of belief to turn to."

And why become a Catholic?

"I love the tradition of the Catholic church," Drake says. "I love the ceremony. I love that you can go to any church in the world and walk in and feel like you know what's going on, even if you can't understand the language."

How will becoming a full-fledged Catholic change her life?

"I will be able to fully experience the Mass, be able to receive the Eucharist and have a relationship with Jesus Christ I have not had before, which is extremely important to me," Drake says.

"But as far as: How I will live my life, how it will change my life? It's part of the journey."

* * *

Nick Markovich II admits that, before becoming a member of South Hills Church Community in Henderson, "I didn't really understand what it meant to be a Christian."

Nick, 16, became acquainted with the church through its youth group. And while he liked it, he didn't explore the faith more deeply until a winter camp program a little more than a year ago.

"I started paying attention, and it all started to make sense to me," he says.

In August, Nick was baptized at South Hills.

"It definitely changed my life around," he says. "I became a better person."

Before becoming a Christian, Nick says, he'd get into trouble -- nothing terribly serious, but enough that his father resorted to "looking at military school."

True enough, says Nick's dad, Nick Markovich.

Most of the problems involved "not making proper choices," Markovich says.

But, since Nick's baptism and embracing of his faith, Markovich says, along "with the leadership coming out of South Hills, his decision-making process is better than it was before."

Markovich suspects it has something to do with Nick holding himself accountable to something higher than Mom and Dad or teachers, and his ability, based on Christian teachings, to think more deeply "into the consequences of making a bad decision."

Could Nick do this without becoming a Christian?

"I don't know," he answers. "I doubt it, because, generally, high school starts getting harder."

Nick is proud, too, that his family is proud of him.

"I wasn't happy back then," he says. "But I'm a lot happier now."

Nick's newfound commitment is having ripple effects in his own family.

According to Markovich, Nick's sister, Cherylyn, 20, joined her brother during their spring break last week on a mission trip to build a church in Mexico.

* * *

What is Steve Kovacs' religious background? How about, he jokes, "heathen."

As a kid, "I really wasn't introduced to God at all," Kovacs, 40, says. "God wasn't in my life.

"My grandparents took me to church a little bit. But as far as my Mom and Dad, they never really, I wouldn't say 'pushed,' but never introduced God or Jesus into my life, or the importance of it all."

"I mean, we celebrated Christmas and Easter and things like that," Kovacs adds, but he describes his upbringing as "basically secular."

Kovacs explored religion in a general way as an adult. But it wasn't until he and his wife, Aarina -- who was raised in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints -- had children that he began to think seriously about faith.

"Something -- I don't know; it must have been God, or something -- touched me when we had kids," Kovacs says. "You can never describe the feeling when your doctor hands you your kids.

"I just felt there had to be some kind of bigger thing or ultimate being that would give me that gift, because it was just amazing, the feeling you have when you're handed your baby."

From a more practical standpoint, when the boys, now 5 and 6, became old enough for school, the Kovacs sent them to St. Anne Catholic School in Las Vegas. That, unexpectedly, helped to pique Kovacs' interest in Catholic teachings.

But he suspects something else as well.

"It's hard to explain," Kovacs says. "I just needed something in my life, to give me guidance or try to make sense of everything and the feelings I've had."

Kovacs began preparing for his baptism last fall. On Saturday evening, during Easter vigil services, Kovacs was scheduled to be baptized and confirmed and receive first Communion at St. Anne Catholic Church.

Kovacs describes his wife as "really supportive" of his decision, although she did not convert.

As a new Catholic, Kovacs figures his challenge will be to "try to keep learning more and more about the religion and the tradition, and I would like to find some Catholic Bible studies around town."

Kovacs hopes his newfound faith will help to make him "a better role model for my kids and a better husband."

Challenges notwithstanding, being a baptized Catholic is "going to feel great," Kovacs says, perhaps, even, on par with "having my kids."

In fact, Kovacs says, "I wish I would have done it when I was younger."

Contact reporter John Przybys at jprzybys@reviewjournal.com or 702-383-0280.