This is a book of brief, personal testimonies from Irish Roman Catholics who are involved with a movement called Evangelical Catholic Initiative (ECI). They have remained faithful members of the Catholic church while identifying themselves as "Evangelicals." In the face of the ongoing efforts to wreck the peace and thwart reconciliation in Northern Ireland, the testimonies gathered here—and endorsed by leading Irish Protestants—compel notice.

The underlying question this book addresses has troubled Protestants since the Reformation: Can Catholics be considered "Christians"? After all, if their church is "the Whore of Babylon" and the focal point of their corporate worship life is "idolatry," there can't be much hope for folk who stay within so significantly flawed a church. This was, and is, an important question because a vital aspect of Protestant self-understanding and public presentation has been, and is, anti-Catholicism.

Adventures in Reconciliation is particularly important for the light it sheds on the "state of play" regarding this underlying question. There are prefatory commendations by leading Irish Evangelicals: Trevor Morrow, Presbyterian; Ken Wilson, Methodist; Paul Reid, Independent Evangelical; Harold Miller, Anglican Church of Ireland. Then, there is an effusive foreword from Ken Newell, Presbyterian pastor from Belfast, whose towering integrity in the Evangelical movement lends instant credibility to the book.

Trevor Morrow writes, "I, as a Presbyterian, unequivocally accept and affirm with joy and enthusiasm these Roman Catholic believers as my brothers and sisters in Christ." But these Catholics are self-proclaimed Evangelicals, (i.e., they have come to "know the Lord as personal Savior"); would "regular" Catholics in good standing also be welcomed as fellow Christians?

The preface by Cardinal Cahal Daly focuses on that very question. I understand that Cardinal Daly was not initially enthusiastic about the book, and his preface shows that ambivalence. He begins by confessing "to be 'allergic' to some of the language and some of the manifestations of the Evangelical tradition." While he affirms the worth of conversion experiences and of the charismatic movement, he also writes that, for himself, he cannot distinguish the experience of Jesus as personal Savior from the experience of life in the visible church; or the presence and power of the Spirit in his own life from life in the church: or "baptism in the Spirit" from a growing awareness of the meaning of sacramental baptism for his adult life. So, the question—still unresolved—continues as a kind of motif: Are ordinary Catholics acceptable to Protestants, or only those who have come through some personal or institutional connection with the Evangelical and/or charismatic movement?

That question aside, the testimonies themselves are worthy of attention. As could be expected, there is a large range of experiences disclosed, from suburbanites called to lead a religiously inclusive prayer group to ex-terrorists now working together across sectarian lines for the cause of Christ. I have been in meetings in Northern Ireland and have heard the testimonies of five of the writers presented here. In print, they are gripping; in person, they are incredibly moving. Let me share three with you, two from people previously unknown to me, and one whom I have met.

Harry McCann has been called by many people "an icon of grace." He was the victim of a random, sectarian bombing. He was literally thrown up into the air when a bomb, tied to his ignition, exploded when he started his car. His massive injuries are obvious to those who meet him. His legs were amputated at the thighs, and today he walks very laboriously with walking sticks and artificial legs. Yet, his Catholic faith has deepened in this tragedy. He has forgiven those who tried to kill him. He appears regularly at meetings dedicated to the reconciliation of Protestants and Catholics. Harry would portray himself as an ordinary man, and in many ways he is. But I can attest that, in the presence of Harry McCann, the darkness is less and the light is more. For all the pains Harry suffered, about which he doesn't complain, the one hurt he will mention in public is that of Protestants asking if he really can be a Christian in "that" church.

The testimony of Peter McCann (no relation to Harry) became rather famous because when the book came out in the UK and Ireland, his words made the Irish newspapers. The title of his chapter is a journalist's dream: "The Prod That Led Me to God." Peter, a charming sort of Irish rogue, had made a mess of his adult life, and his marriage was on the rocks. One day, in desperation, he left Belfast to search for work in Dublin. He walked out to the motorway in West Belfast to hitch a ride. The car that picked him up was driven by a burly man with UVF (Ulster Volunteer Force—a Protestant terrorist organization) tattoos on his arms. Peter thought he, a Catholic, would be killed. In fact, the driver was David "Packey" Hamilton, an ex-UVF terrorist who had spent many years in jail but had been converted. During their ride together, Hamilton not only didn't murder Peter, he gave him the words of life. When they parted company, McCann left Hamilton's car a changed man; Peter had accepted Christ as his Savior, and has since led an exemplary life of service and dedication to kingdom pursuits.

Bernadette Power's story is, arguably, most compelling because her journey of faith is still a work in progress. Her husband, Mickey, was the victim of a random sectarian murder, committed as the family walked to mass. Having her husband gunned down in front of her children and within sight of church has left a deep scar on Bernadette, as did another shot that pierced the eye of her daughter Michelle and another in the thigh of her son Gavin. Finding the way back to humanity—let alone religious faith—was very difficult for her. Yet, with help from people like Anglican minister Cecil Kerr, she has been able to come through it all with a restored faith. Now, when she thinks of the man who murdered her Mickey, she can pray, "Lord, whoever he is, show him the mercy you've shown me." But Bernadette still has to raise three children alone, and Christmas is very hard without Mickey.

These testimonies, and the 26 not mentioned, leave this reader in no doubt that these Christians are surely fellow believers. The old notion that Catholics, when they "met the Lord," had to leave their church was, and is, offensive. This book's mere existence is already a minor miracle in that Irish Protestant leaders are inviting fellow Protestants to look inside the Catholic church to see that it is OK for committed Christian Catholics to remain in their church. If all of this seems a bit remedial, one must recall the deep nature of the social division in Northern Ireland, where religion often functions as an ethnicity.

Having said that, however, I have certain serious questions. I hope asking them will encourage further dialogue. These testimonies began to go to a pattern: The person was raised in a conventional Catholic family; a personal or social crisis brought about a crisis of faith; there was a providential meeting that brought the person to a charismatic prayer group; they grew in faith through contact with parachurch organizations, typically Cecil Kerr's Christian Renewal Centre (Anglican, charismatic) or the Full Gospel Businessmen's Fellowship. The folk in this book seem unaware that this presentation tends to reaffirm the historic Protestant assertion, that is, that ordinary, regular Catholics in good standing are not "really" Christians. Those Catholics who have had no Evangelical-style conversion experience nor postconversion encounter with the Spirit are not represented here. Indeed, the whole idea of a "full gospel" leaves all the rest of us with, I suppose, a half-full gospel.

Seen thus, the ambivalence of Cardinal Daly seems only appropriate; if all our believers are not good enough to be accepted by all, reconciliation is still blocked at the starting gate. For this reviewer, it is the wrong question to ask if these Catholics are "acceptable" on Protestant terms; of course they are. A better question asks if Evangelical and charismatic believers—whether Protestant or Catholic—can regard as fellow believers the vast majority of Christians in the mainline churches.

Ronald A. Wells is professor of history and director of the Calvin Center for Christian Scholarship at Calvin College. His book People Behind the Peace: Community and Reconciliation in Northern Ireland has just been published by Eerdmans.

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