Former Mormons say there is ‘no church like the Catholic Church’
Father Dustin Boehm, pastor of St. Gabriel Parish in Connersville, convalidates the marriage of Larissa and Jason Cullen as their sons Andrew, right, and Aiden, left, look on after the Easter Vigil Mass at St. Gabriel Church in Connersville on March 31. (Submitted photo)
By Natalie Hoefer
CONNERSVILLE—“Two Mormons—one from Sweden and the other from Australia—come to Connersville, Ind., and become Catholic.”
The phrase almost sounds like a punchline should follow.
But the statement is a summary of the story of Jason and Larissa Cullen.
The formerly Mormon couple, along with their sons Aiden, 12, and Andrew, 10, were welcomed into the full communion of the Church during the Easter Vigil Mass at St. Gabriel Church in Connersville on March 31.
There were many stops on the couple’s journey from Mormonism to the Catholic faith, including a “cowboy church” and Norse paganism.
There were just as many geographic points on the globe in Jason’s and Larissa’s path to each other and to Connersville, a journey Jason attributes to “divine intervention.” (Related: See a list of all the new Catholics welcomed into the Church this past Easter)
‘Our eyes were just opened wide’
The two were both raised in strong Mormon families. Each went on proselytizing missions as young adults, as is typical of members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints—known as the LDS Church or, more commonly, the Mormon Church.
While on mission, Jason and Larissa found love—just not with each other.
Larissa, who met her husband in England, moved to his hometown of Indianapolis.
“I hated it,” she admits. “In Sweden, everything is lush and green. And he never really took me anywhere, so I thought all of Indiana was cornfields.”
Jason and Larissa met later on a Mormon dating website after both of their marriages ended in divorce. The couple married in Australia in 2010 and settled in Texas, where Jason had already accepted a job.
Larissa’s doubts about Mormonism began after her divorce, she recalls.
The LDS Church holds that when a couple is married in a Mormon temple, they “get sealed for eternity,” she explains.
“And when you have an earthly divorce, you’re still married with that first person in heaven. How could a loving God decide I need to be stuck for eternity with a husband who hurt me?”
Those doubts increased after her mom died in 2015.
Larissa had returned to Sweden for the funeral when, in a dream, her mom told her, “It’s not the way you thought it was.”
“I knew it had to do with Mormon thinking, that the other side didn’t look like the way Mormons portray,” she says. “Ever since then, I have been on a quest to find the truth.”
The couple went to leaders in their church with questions about Mormon teaching. The leaders promised they would return with answers, “but they never came back,” says Larissa.
So, the Cullens began searching for answers about Mormonism on the internet.
“And oh boy, our eyes were just opened wide,” she says. “We were like, ‘We’re being lied to!’ And so that sent me into complete trauma. It just broke me.”
‘I was never really content’
With the door shut on Mormonism, Jason felt liberated.
“I’m free! I’m going to look at everything out there!” he recalls of his attitude at the time.
And so he did. Jason, along with his “church buddy” Aiden, went to Christian mega-churches, a Lutheran church, even a “cowboy church” focused on ranchers—complete with its own rodeo arena.
He finally settled on a Protestant church in San Antonio he describes as “Baptist-lite.” Larissa says the church provided a “good community for the kids.” But as for herself, she says, “I wasn’t settled.”
She began dabbling in New Age spirituality, particularly Norse paganism “because that was my heritage.”
Five years after uprooting their faith, the family pulled up their Texas roots as well. In 2020, the Cullens decided they wanted to purchase several acres of land.
But land was expensive in the Lone Star State. Jason considered transferring within his company to a job based in Cincinnati, where the couple could buy more acreage for less money in Ohio, Kentucky or Indiana.
Larissa was adamant about one thing: “We are not moving to Indiana.”
But Jason’s photos of southeastern Indiana’s summertime flora and rolling hills as he looked at various properties changed her mind. It was Larissa who found their current property online, a home on about five acres south of downtown Connersville.
Once settled into their new home, the Cullens attended services at a Baptist church. The members were “very nice,” says Larissa, and she appreciated the fellowship.
“But I was never really content,” she admits. She found the teaching “too fluffy.”
For all the couple’s faith searching, they had never considered Catholicism. As Mormons, says Larissa, they were raised to believe the Catholic Church was the “whore of Babylon” (Rev 17:5). “So, the thought of looking at the Church was never even on our radar.”
So why the change? Jason answers in two words: “Mark Wahlberg.”
‘I felt like I got struck by lightning’
Jason was at home watching Father Stu, the 2022 biopic starring Wahlberg as Stuart Long (1963-2014), a boxer-turned Catholic priest.
“I didn’t know it was a true story,” he says. “I thought it was making fun of the Catholic Church.”
In one scene, Long challenged a priest during confession on why he should judge Long for sinning when the priest himself was a sinner.
“I was like, ‘Yeah! That’s right! Who are you to judge!’ ” Jason recalls.
“Then the priests says, ‘I’m not here to judge you, my son. I’m here as a conduit between you and God to help bring you closer to God.’
“I’ve never had a spiritual experience like that in my life. The Spirit hit me so hard, I felt like I got struck by lightning when he spoke those words.”
He told Larissa emphatically, “We need to check out the Catholic Church!”
Jason met with Father Dustin Boehm, pastor of St. Gabriel Parish. The former Mormon had so many questions, the 45-minute meeting flew by.
“We’re in the middle of a conversation when he was like, ‘Hold on for a second,’ ” Jason recalls. “He goes out to the secretary, and he cancels his next couple of appointments so we can talk longer. That really touched me. It was like leaving the 99 [sheep] to go after the one.”
The conversation occurred in 2022, followed by several more meetings. By the time the Cullens were ready to join the Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults (RCIA), the classes were too far along. The family would have to wait until the next year.
In the meantime, Larissa soaked up all she could about the faith from
well-known Catholic apologists.
“I was amazed to learn they [the Church] actually have a whole lineage down to Jesus,” she says. “I started going to Mass, and I loved the reverence. I loved that everybody was there to truly worship Jesus.”
‘No Church like the Catholic Church’
The Cullens entered RCIA in the fall of 2023 as a family, including the couple’s daughter Abida, 15, who later discerned she was not ready to join the Church.
But Aiden was. He says when his parents told him about taking the classes, “I was kind of excited, because I knew I was getting baptized in my favorite Church out of all of them” he and his dad had visited.
Jason says the RCIA team “had a big impact on us,” particularly Jayson Waterman, who became Jason’s sponsor.
“I was still resistant,” he says. “I’d tell Jayson, ‘You’ve got to tell me why you believe this. You can’t just say, ‘I just believe it.’ He was just great with his answers.”
Larissa also credits Waterman with sensing a struggle she encountered.
“I felt this oppression, like something was pulling me back,” as if trying to prevent her pursuit of the truth, she says.
Unprompted, Waterman gave her a book about St. Anthony of the Desert, a third-century hermit who encountered temptations and persecution by the devil.
“That was just so helpful,” she says.
By the week before Easter, the Cullens were ready. But nothing prepared Jason for his experience of Holy Thursday Mass.
“It’s such an impactful Mass, to watch the Savior taken away,” he says. “And he’s truly present there [in the Eucharist]. I could feel it when they took him away.”
Still, he says, receiving the sacraments at the Easter Vigil Mass was “the pinnacle.” The boys brim with joy as they recall the experience.
“When the lights came on and the Gloria was sung, I felt super happy,” says Aiden. “I was like, ‘This is the most happiest I’ve ever been in my life.’
“And when we went up to take our first Eucharist, and being baptized, and getting the [chrism] oil on the head—I was so excited!”
Andrew admits he “felt scammed” when he saw two lights on in the Church as the congregation processed in for the Mass, each holding a candle.
“I was told the church was going to be dark,” he says. “I was expecting it to be pitch black. But I looked at all the candles and I was like, ‘The people are depending on Jesus to come back.’
“And then when all the lights came on, something just blew up inside me. I was just super happy.”
All four Cullens received the sacraments of baptism, the Eucharist and confirmation.
But there was one more sacrament for Jason and Larissa: the convalidation of their marriage.
“I love it that sacramental marriage, that it’s a covenant,” says Jason.
After the Mass, Andrew says he cried tears of joy.
“I was just so happy,” he says. “It was the greatest moment of my life. I never thought I would actually be getting baptized. But I felt like this Church is the Church, and it was just a great experience.”
Jason echoed his son’s words.
“The journey to the Church was just amazing,” he says. “The experiences that we’ve had throughout are just very different than we’ve ever experienced.
“No [other church] puts so much emphasis on Christ. There’s just no church like the Catholic Church.” †
Related story: In Clarksville, woman becomes Catholic at 90, saying, ‘Better late than never’
