When Naj Qureshi logged on to his computer Nov. 4, 2016, he could
not believe what he was about to do. Just a couple of months earlier he would
have used the internet to look up tee times, Steelers rankings or organize
outings with his drinking buddies — anything to escape spending time with
family and definitely nothing to do with God. Yet there he was, about to share
the series of events that was putting God and his family at the center of his
life.
The invisible man in the sky
I have learned that it is selfish to assume what God’s plan is
Naj grew up in Vienna with his parents Shoukat and Mary Anne and
his two sisters. His father was a Muslim in name only who came to the U. S.
from Pakistan, while his mother was a nonpracticing Catholic from a devoutly
Italian and Polish family.
“My dad, although he believed in God, stressed that you didn’t
have go to church or stand behind a priest or mullah to have a relationship
with God,” said Naj.
As a result, Naj drifted into spiritual indifference in high
school, which continued into his college days as a music major at Shenandoah
University. It was there that he met his wife, Erin, who was from a Catholic
family. To appease her and his new in-laws, they got married in the church, but
it was just going through the motions, according to Naj.
After graduation, his apathy toward the “invisible man in the
sky” turned into an unquenchable pursuit of worldly pleasures. Looking back, he
can see that his life was spinning out of control, but no one would have known.
To the outside world, he was living the dream. He had gotten a lucrative job in
corporate America out of college and over the next 10 years had moved quickly
to an upper management sales position. It required him to travel and he enjoyed
business trips to “entertain clients.”
This decade of self-indulgence took its toll on Naj’s body and
soul. He gained 100 pounds and suffered extreme anxiety and depression.
Sick of all the traveling, he quit his job and accepted a
position in his father’s business. He was home more but it did little to change
his lifestyle.
“The fun stuff was always much more important to me than my wife
and kids,” said Naj. “God forbid I should miss a tee time on Sunday morning
rather than go to Sunday Mass. I didn’t have time for God. I probably broke the
entire Ten Commandments except ‘thou shall not kill,’” he said. “But honestly,
I bet I wished death on people every day.”
His sense of humor, which had always made him a hit at parties,
started to become the outlet for his frustrations. He remembers going to work
and looking for an opportunity to ruin someone’s day by starting an argument.
“I thought it was the funniest thing ever,” he said.
When his daughter Katelyn started religious education classes, he
started going to Mass again with his family, but it was only to set an example.
He never listened to what the priest was saying and indulged every immoral
thought that came to him during that hour.
From the mouth of babes
In the fall of 2015, his wife texted him to pick up his daughter
from her religious education class at St. Theresa Church in Ashburn. During the
walk back to the car he made a half-hearted attempt to engage with his daughter
while actually being absorbed with his phone.
“What did you learn in
school today, sweetheart?” he asked.
“Dad, Jesus died for us,” the six-year-old responded.
For whatever reason, this answer shocked him out of his phone and
planted him firmly on the side walk outside of church, where his daughter stood
looking up at him.
“What was that?” he asked.
“Jesus died for us, Daddy, for you and me. Jesus died for all of
us so that we could go to heaven.”
Naj felt like someone had kicked him.
“It just kind of shocked me that a six-year-old would say that,”
said Naj.
He decided to listen to the priest the following Sunday and heard
Katelyn’s message repeated from the pulpit.
“It wasn’t preachy, it wasn’t condemning us. It was love. It was
purely about God’s love for us.”
Naj started listening more each Sunday. After a few weeks,
instead of watching “Spartacus” or the “Sopranos” he found himself watching
documentaries about St. John Paul II and St. Padre Pio. When that wasn’t
enough, he started reading their works.
Changes came quickly after that, and he decided to go to
confession for the first time in six years.
“I had a confession app and it had everything laid out, but I
dropped my phone and everything went away,” said Naj. The priest took pity on
him and instructed him to just speak from the heart. “It was one of the best
confessions I had ever had.”
By Christmas, Naj was praying a lot more, and had less time for
his golf and drinking buddies who were baffled by his new interests. He started
to keep journals during his prayers and was surprised to be interrupted by a
word frequently during prayer — deacon.
While Naj and Erin were helping out with the Paul VI Catholic
High School spring musical, he had an opportunity to speak with Deacon Richard
C. Caporiccio, a theology teacher at Paul VI. Despite Naj being only a couple
of months into his transformation, Deacon Caporiccio encouraged him to contact
the diocese about the permanent diaconate program, which he did.
In March 2016, he spoke with Father Paul Scalia, excited at the
prospect of starting the program. He was surprised however when an application
wasn’t offered. Instead Father Scalia asked him to go home and meditate with
his family about the diaconate for a year and then come back to see him.
Going from 0 to 100
“I’m not going to lie, I was a bit disappointed by that because I
was so gung-ho. I thought he would give me an application and we could start
that rolling,” Naj said.
But things did start rolling. Naj joined the men’s group, That
Man is You, at St. Theresa and struck up a friendship with Father James C.
Hinkle, parochial vicar. Naj started going to more Thursday Holy Hours and less
“thirsty Thursdays” with his buddies.
On Easter Monday 2016, he made the decision to start going to
daily Mass with a break on Saturdays. When his church added an adoration
chapel, he began to attend daily adoration as well.
“I went from 0 to 100 miles an hour,” said Naj. In just a few
months, he had joined the Knights of Columbus and went all the way to the 4th
degree. He and Erin took a trip to Rome for their 10th anniversary that was
spiritually awakening for both of them. He helped plan a pilgrimage to the
Padre Pio shrine in Pennsylvania a couple of months later and was joined on the
trip by his mother.
“They bring out the relic of Padre Pio and I start crying. I look
over at my mom and she is crying, looking at me, and she is so happy.”
He has gotten incredible support from his family who had been
praying for his conversion for the past 10 years. He has also received support
from his Muslim relatives who are happy to see the positive change in him.
He started the blog, “Naj the Convert,” in November, witnessing
the positive impact sharing his story has on others who are suffering as he
had.
“The purpose of the blog is to help people who are kind of on the
fence or think they are so far gone,” said Naj. “If that is how God wants me to
have an impact — if I can be there to help one person — it is an unmitigated
success.”
Naj has been posting every Friday for more than 20 weeks now and
hopes to continue. Most recently he blogged about his follow-up visit with
Father Scalia discussing his call to the diaconate.
Before the meeting Naj said, “I have learned that it is selfish
to assume what God’s plan is. If it turns out that the program does not work
out for me, I am going to go with God in the other directions that He is
calling me.”
Find out more
Go to najtheconvert.wordpress.com to read his blog every
Friday.