By Timothy Michael Cardinal Dolan
I remember the first time I met Jennifer Fulwiler. She came bounding onto the set of my radio show, Conversation with Cardinal Dolan on the Catholic Channel of SiriusXM Satellite Radio, looking eye to eye at me as she stood at an impressive six three in her heels! “Hi, Cardinal Dolan. I'm so happy to be here,” she exclaimed as she settled into the chair and adjusted her headset, full of life and radiating joy.
Jennifer had just started her own radio show on the Catholic Channel, and I was anxious to meet her, as many of my brother bishops and priests, as well as a large number of lay Catholics, had told me about this incredible young woman, wife, and mother who had recently converted from a life-long atheism to Catholicism. “I just heard this dynamic new speaker, Jennifer Fulwiler, speak at our diocesan conference,” one would say, and another would urge me, “Get her book, Something other than God. What a refreshing and encouraging read!” I thought, “She sounds too good to be true,” and I asked the show's producers to please book her as a guest, because I wanted to see for myself.
I quickly learned that all those well-meaning friends of mine, the ones who had raved about Jennifer Fulwiler, had undersold her. Here was a woman who was smart, funny, lively, a loving wife, a mom to six kids whom she home-schooled, a writer, a radio host, and a convert to Catholicism. She was everything right about the Catholic Church.
Pope Saint John Paul II, Pope Benedict, and now Pope Francis have all urged us to engage in this thing called the “new evangelization”, a fancy term that basically means we must reengage people with their faith; we can't take for granted anymore that people who are baptized Catholics are going to continue to practice their faith as they grow older. And for some time, I've been telling anyone who would listen, that the days of old, fat, bald, Irish bishops—like me—being the only assumed effective evangelizers for the Church were over. If we are going to get serious about bringing people to Jesus, about following his last command to “go, and make disciples of all nations,” then we need to look to the laity to take the lead.
That's where this wonderful book, Something other than God, comes in. The book does not proselytize, is not a minicatechism, and is not in any way “in your face” (like the unfortunate camp counselor in chapter 1). It is one woman's story as she slowly, with fits and starts, responds to God's gentle call. There is no “road to Damascus” revelation for Jennifer, but rather a series of moments—a conversation with her boyfriend (soon to be husband) Joe, a warm greeting at a parish church, a reflection on the life of a murdered rapper—that all lead Jennifer to seek, to question, and finally, after much internal struggle, to accept. In an era when we see the rise of the “nones”, that is, an ever-growing segment of the population that identifies with no religion at all, it is encouraging to read about a couple who freely choose to enter the Catholic Church. It makes me want to shout, “Alleluia!”
That's not to reduce Jennifer, or her husband, Joe, to stereotypes, to portray them as some kind of uber-Catholics or holy rollers, an ideal that seems impossible for others to attain. Part of what makes this book so appealing is that their story is so real, and their story resonates because they are definitely people you and I would know and encounter all the time. Successful go-getters who meet at a high-tech start-up, fall in love over visits to a local coffee house, and enjoy throwing karaoke parties for their friends—these are the kind of people we meet everyday. But, while Jennifer's journey to faith profoundly and fundamentally transforms her, it doesn't rob her of who she is. What shines through so clearly is that she remains very much the smart, energetic, vivacious, full-of-life woman she always was but is now infused with openness to God, who only wants to share his love with her.
Something other than God is honest. It is heartfelt. It is inspirational. Just like its author.