Last Days in the Desert
Apart from my joyful realisation that I now believed in the one true gospel of Universal Salvation, my final month in Hong Kong was the worst and most painful of all. There was copious amounts of stress with Mindy and we were having insane amounts of sex. I didn’t even care any more, I was so depressed and despondent, and I felt as if my life was entirely out of my control. I ended up not even trying to resist, and for the first time I found myself actually actively seducing Mindy myself, rather than her seducing me as would usually happen. I was pounding back 3 fat cans of Tsing Tao Draft every night as a form of self-medication and I was constantly going to bed in a drunken haze.
Towards the end of our Sydney holiday – when my Psychologist had admonished me to return to Sydney permanently – I had informed Mindy of my decision to return to Australia. Mindy did not take it well at all, and immediately set about trying to control, coerce and manipulate me into changing my mind. By this point of the relationship, she had proven to be incredibly effective at getting me to agree with her (except on matters of faith) and she basically had me under her thumb, like a trained dog. She went through the usual routine and I pretended to relent and change my mind about going back to Sydney. Truth be told, she managed to exert enough influence over me to get me to seriously contemplate staying in Hong Kong. However one morning I received a facetime call from Mum and she was able to snap me out of it and recommit to the original plan. We agreed that it would be a good idea for my step father to actually come to Hong Kong and pick me up in person, so as to force me to board the plane back home and prevent Mindy from manipulating me into staying. We also agreed that I should keep these plans secret from Mindy, so that she couldn’t wear me down and change my mind.
Nevertheless, as April was drawing to a close and the date of my departure was approaching, Mindy discovered my plans to leave and went into crisis mode. She started organising emergency meetings with absolutely everyone: We met with Alan – her pastor from Living Grace church, Alex McCoy, and she even tried to organise a skype talk with Andrew Judd, the youth minister who was serving at my old church St Barnabas in Sydney, and who had agreed to perform the marriage ceremony for us back in Australia.
All three of these ministers sided with me and my doctors: they figured that the wisest course of action was to trust the professional advice and return to Sydney. Suicide and depression are serious business and not to be taken lightly.
During our final session with Alex McCoy, it came out that not only was I planning to leave Hong Kong, but my flight was scheduled to be 2 days later. It was at this point that Mindy completely freaked out, broke down and lost control of herself.
An Apocalyptic Tantrum
As we left Alex McCoys office, Mindy completely lost control. She started crying, screaming, saying that she wanted to kill herself and trying to run into the heavy traffic on Nathan Road. As she made motions to step in front of all the massive trucks and buses flying along the road at top speed, I would try to intercept her and grab her and prevent her from killing herself. As I did this, she would spin around and aim a solid kick at my groin. Passers by started to turn their heads in concern and check what was happening. I felt like I appeared to onlookers as some sort of rapist or predator, as I was grabbing her and trying to hold her and wrest her away from the oncoming traffic, while she was swearing at me and kicking my balls. It was incredibly awkward and embarrassing.
Eventually Mindy just ran away from me in tears and I trekked back to my flat at Yuen Long alone. I was worried and concerned about her, because she was behaving off the scale crazy and threatening suicide. My psychologist Alex Goymour had warned me that this might happen and prepared me with some strategies to deal with it. The first principle she told me was that you must always treat a threat of suicide seriously: never ever laugh it off or treat it as an empty threat, otherwise the person making the threat might just go ahead with it in order to prove their sincerity. With this in mind, I took Mindy’s threats of suicide seriously.
As I travelled home I received a constant stream of emotionally strung messages from Mindy. Once I was back in my flat I decided that I needed to contact the police because this was getting way out of hand. I did not know how to contact the police, so I went down to the lobby of my building and spoke to the security guard on duty. Unfortunately he didn’t know how to speak English and I struggled to communicate with him, but thankfully another resident of the building appeared and I was able to use her as an interpreter. The security guard contacted the police and filed a report concerning Mindy’s threats of suicide. He wrote down the number of the police and conveyed to me that they would get in contact with me.
I went back up to my flat and waited, all the while receiving crazy suicide threats from Mindy. I tried to stay calm and collected, and establish where exactly Minday was, so that I could tell the police if they ask. The most that I could gather was that she was in a high place. I didn’t know what that meant, but it made me imagine her jumping off a rooftop and falling to her death on the side walk. Eventually the police called me and we talked through the situation. The police had also got in direct contact with Mindy, which just made her even more crazy: she sent me a message “Why did you bring other people into this??? Why did you have to call the police??? This is between you and me!!!” I was refusing to play her game and submit to her manipulative tactics, and yet I still had to treat her suicide threats as genuine. I figured that introducing the police into the situation would serve as negative reinforcement and perhaps dissuade Mindy from ever trying this crap on again.
Eventually Mindy materialised at Yuen Long station and informed me via whatsapp that she was on the way to my flat. I was extremely concerned about her and so went down and started walking towards the station so as to meet her. I ran into her on the long, blue bridge between Yoho Mall 1 and Yoho Mall 2. She was in a terrible state. She broke down crying and fell to the floor, holding my hand and refusing to let go. She started pleading with me like a spoilt toddler who wants her mum to buy her some expensive toy. “Pleeeeeease don’t go!!! Pleeeeeease stay!!! Don’t leave meeeeee!!!” She was sobbing and shaking and crying and screaming. There were tears streaming down her face and she was completely distraught. Naturally I was crying too: it was incredibly hard for me to hold it together under such emotional stress and while confronted with such a wreck of a fiancée. All I could say to her imploring and begging was “I can’t, I’m sorry.” I was emotionally exhausted and torn: A large part of me wanted to give in to this tantrum so that I don’t have to hurt her like this, but I knew that my step father was arriving the next day, and I knew that I had to go home, so I did not give in.
Mindy got herself somewhat together and we started moving back towards my flat. Suddenly she changed tactic. She started to get all aggressive and physical, hitting me and poking me forcefully while verbally attacking me and accusing me, trying to make me feel guilty. I just pushed her off me and refused to put up with her crap. We just stood there as a cloud of mosquitoes ate my legs.
Suddenly her phone was ringing: It was the police. They wanted to know if she had arrived at my flat. She calmly and collectedly informed them that she was with me and she was alright. The police considered her to be safe and that the case was closed. I thought to myself “Fuck“: She was definitely not safe and the case was definitely not closed. Now I was going to have to endure a whole night of stressful whining and complaining and suicide threats. This was Hell.
Around about 4am we eventually moved up to my flat and things settled down a bit. I don’t actually remember, but I suspect we ended up having some good make up sex to close the conflict, as we usually would after a big fight.
Arrival of a Saviour
The date that my stepfather arrived in Hong Kong happened to be his own birthday. My stepdad has been very good to me throughout my life, and this was a prime example of how much he cared for me. I had informed my Mum via text message of what had happened, how Mindy was completely distraught and falling apart, threatening suicide. With this in mind, my stepfather was expecting to meet a totally crazy Mindy when he got off the plane. But instead, Mindy managed to pull herself totally together and act as if everything was normal and nothing out of the ordinary had happened recently.
That evening all of us went to an awkward dinner with Mindy’s family. Her Mum and Dad who usually live in China were present, as well as her Grandmother. Mindy’s Dad quizzed me on whether I really do love Mindy and want to marry her. I honestly didn’t know, but what I did know is that I still wanted to be an honourable man who keeps his promises, and so I insisted that I still loved her and still wanted to marry her. I made yet another feeble promise to return to Hong Kong in a years time after I had recovered. I thought that love was an attitude, and if I couldn’t handle this relationship turmoil, then there’s no way I could ever handle a marriage. I thought that I had to push through.
On the day of the flight, I had already wrapped up all my business with Aaron from butterfly milk and I had a whole day to kill. Me, Mindy and my Stepfather ended up trying to kill time by visiting “The Peak” – an expensive shopping centre and lookout built on top of a mountain. Unfortunately on this day the Peak was shrouded by a thick cloud and we were unable to see the great view of Hong Kong that would usually be enjoyed from that point.
Rather than catch the bus or tram down the mountainside, we decided to walk the whole way down. My step father was not as young and fit as he used to be, and found the experience to be excruciating and painful. He has since said that he was completely baffled as to why we decided to do that: it was an intense physical strain which he really didn’t want to deal with.
At the end of the day, me and my step father boarded the flight back to Sydney, and I was finally escaping Hong Kong for good.
Return to Sydney
After returning to Sydney I ended up staying with Mum and my immediate family for a few weeks. I was still incredibly down and depressed at this point. I was very shaky and not myself. I remember feeling incredibly sad and distressed: when my younger brother Nicholas would talk to me non-stop about his cool new video games and awesome plans to build a mini metal foundry (and other such stuff that imaginative young boys get up to), I remember I would be completely zapped and lack the energy to engage with him and his excitement. I remember wishing he would shut up and piss off, which distressed me to no end because I really love my brother and I was distraught that in my depressed state I was unable to enjoy talking to him properly.
During my time at Mum’s house I would just binge on multiplayer Minecraft with my brothers. This was not exactly the healthiest way to spend my time and did absolutely nothing to help me emerge from my depression. I lacked joy, happiness and energy.
Eventually my Grandfather returned from holidays and said that I could come and live with him again. I thought it would be nice to live at the beaches again and to hang out with Gamps. Unfortunately it was not “just like old times”: I was no longer a 17 year old high school student, and the dynamic with Gamps was different. I felt like I had to be doing something productive at all hours of the day, otherwise I felt guilty and stressed. As such I had to force myself to look for jobs and do menial tasks around the house, but when you’re unemployed there’s only so much that you can actually do, so most of my time was spent sitting in my room, trying and failing not to read theology articles, while feeling incredibly stressed and guilty. Unemployment was Hell. The time ticked by incredibly slowly. I was still depressed and couldn’t imagine any job which I would actually be effective at.
I had a routine: Hang around at Gamps’ place not doing much during the week, then on Friday night travel to Mum’s house with my laptop and play video games with my brothers. On Sunday night I would travel into the city and attend mass at St Benedict’s. After mass I would catch the bus to the northern beaches and walk up the hill to Gamps’ house.
Return to WiseTech Global
Unemployment was not doing anything to help my mental state, so I decided to apply for a job at one of my previous employers – WiseTech Global. Alex Eagles was working there, and I remembered some of the people who I was friendly with back in 2011/12: Matty B, Patty McP, Maciej Maciejewski, Brett Shearer, Baabar Khan. Even though I didn’t have much hope that this job would help me in any way, I figured anything was better than sitting around at home all day not doing anything. I smashed the interview and the programming test. Thankfully they were happy to have me back and I was able to slide right into a desk right next to Alex Eagles.
Unfortunately this also was not “just like old times”. Eagles was super focused on his career and didn’t have any time to hang out with me or have lunch with me: he was always having lunch with key figures in the company to talk about business strategies and whatever else. He was in networking mode.
I ended up reaching out and making contact with Patty McP and Maciej Maciejewski, both of whom I was friendly with back when I first worked at this company. Both of them remembered me and were happy to catch up. I ended up regularly having lunch with Pat and his friend Daniel, and we would talk about incredibly nerdy and geeky topics. I wasn’t particularly keen to talk about this stuff, but I was just happy to have someone to eat my lunch with so I endured it. I really wanted to talk about faith and theology with someone, as that was my passion and what I cared about, but no one in the office seemed to be interested in this topic. The only person who actually had even a slight interest in theology was an apostate homosexual guy who had studied at a Hillsong theological college. He was only interested in biblical matters if he was able to shoot them down.
Ever since my conversion to Catholicism, I had been starved for Catholic companionship. “Please God, give me some Catholic friends”: This had been my constant prayer for the past two years. I was so incredibly lonely. My prayer finally was answered in the form of Maciej Maciejewski. I was aware that Maciej was a Christian, but it wasn’t until I saw him wearing a world youth day T-shirt that I realised he was also Catholic. I reached out on the office skype network and let him know that I was Catholic too. After talking for a while, I remember him saying “Wait, you really are Catholic!”: Maciej was very much aware of the problem of nominalism within the church. A lot of people who claim to be Catholic aren’t really devout or faithful; for these people religion is an entirely cultural affair, not to be engaged in unless it is someone’s birthday, wedding or funeral. Me and Maciej were happy to connect over a shared faith and devotion in the office.
The Liturgy of All Ages
During my time at WiseTech, I became curious about Latin Mass. I had heard that the Latin Mass still happened sometimes and in certain places, so I wondered if there was anywhere in Sydney that I could go to witness one. I googled it and found out that there was a parish nearby in Lewisham called “Maternal Heart of Mary Catholic Parish” which offered the Latin Mass. It just so happened that that night was the feast of the Assumption, which is a holy day of obligation in Sydney (meaning that Catholics are required to attend church on that day).
It was winter and I was wearing black jeans and a trenchcoat. I figured that this was formal enough to attend mass and after work prepared to trek to Lewisham. As I arrived in the parish courtyard, I noticed a mother with some children preparing to enter the church. From her accent I could tell that she was Irish. Her children were all incredibly well groomed and wearing suits. She was dressed incredibly modestly. I heard her whisper to her kids “Be respectful now; remember that this is Jesus’ house”. I was immediately impressed and struck by the reverential attitude that she was cultivating in her children.
As I entered the church, I looked around and was amazed at what I was seeing: all of the women were veiling their hair and were dressed in supremely modest attire. All of the men were wearing suits. Even the children were dressed as if they were going to a wedding. I was also shocked at the wide range of ages on display: I was expecting Latin Mass to be packed full of old codgers and withering hags, but instead I was seeing a church full of young, vibrant faces and many many children and infants. There were indeed a few elderly people in the pews, but the majority of the people in attendance seemed to be in their 20s and 30s.
And then the mass actually started. I was blown away. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, heard, smelt and tasted. The Gregorian chant was sublime, the incense was intoxicating, the movements of the priest, deacon and subdeacon were hypnotic and mesmerising. The elevation of the Host and the Chalice was accompanied by a beautiful chorus of bells, both big and small. The reverence amongst the congregation was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. The presence of God was tangible: When the priest held up the Host and the bells were ringing while the incense flooded the room, there was not a doubt in my mind that I was staring at the transubstantiated body and blood of our lord and saviour Jesus Christ. I was instantly hooked.
This Latin mass was such a pleasant surprise and unexpected joy for me, that I ended up attending again the following Sunday at 10:30am. As I approached the church, an older man standing outside immediately walked up to me and said hello. I was stunned: this had never happened to me before outside of a Protestant context. He introduced himself as Tony Pead. We got talking and he was incredibly friendly and jovial. We went in and found a seat for mass, and it was just as beautiful and wonderful as the last time. After it was over I exited the church and found the courtyard full with all of the parishioners: chatting and socialising and catching up with each other. Again, I was blown away: in two years of being Catholic I had never seen this before. I ended up meeting lots of people of a variety of ages and backgrounds. After hanging around in the courtyard for a little while, people packed into their cars and drove to the Empire Hotel just down the road for a feed and a drink. I was impressed at the fellowship. I was also impressed at the knowledge of these people: these were not lukewarm Catholics; they actually knew the faith and were zealous to defend it and propagate it!
It seemed like my long suffering prayer had finally been answered: I had finally found a strong Catholic community! I started attending this mass every Sunday, rather than going to St Benedict’s. I even begun to attend evening Latin mass at Lewisham on Thursdays. I was still depressed, but spiritually I had finally found a home. It quickly became apparent to me that the Latin Mass is what Catholicism is all about; the limitations and drawbacks of the new vernacular mass suddenly became incredibly obvious. Suddenly I realised why I had felt so disillusioned for the past few years of my Catholic journey. This was what I was missing. The eternal liturgy and the faithful Catholics who congregate around it. I had always wondered to myself why I seemed to be the only devout Catholic that I knew; everyone else seemed entirely nominal and apathetic. I finally knew why: all of the faithful Catholics congregate around the Latin mass. If only I had known that at the beginning of my Catholic journey!
Depression And Incompetence
Unfortunately I was still completely depressed. Due to this depression, I was utterly failing to complete the tasks that had been assigned to me at work. I was still in a state of despair as I considered my prospects: I felt like a fake and a failure in this job, lying to everyone about the work that I was doing. I reflected upon all my past jobs and realised that it was just the same pattern repeating itself: I never ever got anything done. I was always taking months on end to complete the simplest tasks. I felt completely incompetent. Other people didn’t seem to have any problem completing their work, but I simply could not do it. I felt absolutely no passion for this job, and it wasn’t long before I found myself gravitating towards theological articles rather than doing the work that had been assigned to me. I really was not cut out for this sort of work. I had always been interested and skilled in computer science, but software engineering is a totally different thing and it didn’t seem that I was very good at it at all.
This line of thinking only served to reinforce my depression: the future looked bleak. I felt like I was locked into a pattern of failure and dishonesty and that I could not escape this. I felt like work was just something that I had to do, even if I couldn’t actually do it; otherwise how would I make money? How would I survive? I could not imagine any other possibilities in life. My passion was theology, faith and philosophy, but I felt like I was locked into this boring software developer lifestyle forever. I felt completely trapped and helpless. I had resigned myself to a depressing future as an incompetent, dishonest programmer.
After my first performance review – which was entirely negative – I started having suicidal thoughts again. I was tempted to throw myself in front of the oncoming traffic on O’Riordan Street.
During this entire time, I had been in regular contact with the team at EIPS. I came in for a face-to-face session with Alex Goymour. I talked through my depression with her, and she was able to shine a light in the gloomy darkness. For my entire life, my Mother had scared me into believing that the only way to be happy was to earn lots of money in some shit-house “good” job and then try to enjoy life on the weekend. Alex Goymour was able to dismantle this idea easily. How could I possibly be happy in life if I’m spending 8 hours a day doing something which I dread and hate, and another 4 hours a day travelling to and from work? Why do I have to keep doing this job? Why do I have to be a software developer? Answer: I don’t have to. I enjoy studying and have always wanted to study computer science. Why don’t I just do that? I can get a part time job and spend the rest of my time doing something that I actually enjoy: studying. Furthermore in Australia the government is willing to give financial assistance to those who are studying in tertiary institutions. Really, I have nothing to worry about: I could leave my job and still survive. I could actually do something that interests me.
All of a sudden there was a crack in the door. I threw my foot in it and refused to let the door close. Finally, for the first time in two years, life was starting to look up again. I actually had some opportunities which I could pursue. I actually had something to look forward to; something to be optimistic about. I wasn’t committed to any particular course of action, but finally I felt as if I had options and a future to look forward to and hope for.
Don’t forget Mindy
During this entire time, I had remained in contact with Mindy. We still contacted each other on whatsapp throughout the day. Sometimes we would have cyber sex via text or video. Technically, we were still engaged and intending to get married, so Mindy was looking into options for moving back to Australia. However I was no longer putting up with her crap any more: I had set a strict bedtime of 10pm. Therefore we were not allowed to talk to each other past this time. This was tricky because of the time gap between Hong Kong and Sydney. It basically meant that there were no times when we could talk to each other face to face. I thought to myself “Too bad” and refused to stay online past 10pm, for the sake of my mental health. One time Mindy threw another tantrum over facetime because of this. I remember witnessing her slitting her wrists with scissors because I was refusing to cooperate with her and she wanted to show just how emotionally high strung she was feeling. I did not understand why she was slitting her wrists and ended up having a long chat with Alex Goymour about it.
In December of 2016, Mindy organised a trip to Sydney to visit me and her Sydney friends. Seeing as it was impractical to see her if we weren’t staying together, I ended up packing a suitcase and moving to an airbnb in Carlton for a few weeks to be with her.
Naturally we had no restraint and ended up fucking non-stop. And of course at the same time we continued to have incredibly painful fights and yelling matches. My mental health was not quite tip top and I was regularly feeling infuriated and enraged at her. I also had lots of accumulated bitterness towards her due to my time in Hong Kong. At one point as we were walking home she was in full crazy bitch mode and all standoffish. I cracked and smacked her and threw the contents of her bag on the road, smashing whatever I could. I hated her so much. This relationship really was toxic for both of us.
I was willing to give her one last chance. Many people had told me that they were converted to Catholicism by the Latin mass. Many others had told me that they had taken their non-Catholic partners to Latin mass and they too ended up converting. Maciej and some of the parishioners at Lewisham had encouraged me to bring Mindy along. I thought to myself: “This is my last hope: I will bring Mindy to Latin mass and see what happens. If she doesn’t show any signs of conversion we’re through.”
So one Thursday night we both suited up and trekked to Lewisham to attend the solemn sung Latin mass. The whole time Mindy just stared at her feet and prayed, clearly trying to block out the experience as much as she could. Afterwards we had dinner at Darling Harbour and she revealed her impressions. She did not enjoy it. She hated it. We ended up in a fight again: “I don’t want my children being exposed to that!” “Well I don’t want my children growing up with your bullshit protestant heresies!” It was clear to me that there was no hope for this relationship. It was also clear to me that Mindy was not even a real Christian. She was a totally depraved heretic who was certainly going to burn and rot in Hell and I wanted nothing more to do with her.
Mindy flew back to Hong Kong, and it wasn’t long before we had agreed to officially call off the engagement and end the relationship. We still maintained contact, but it was different now. We were just friends, not lovers. One of the blessings of God is that it has actually remained that way to this day: every now and then I message her or she messages me, and we are now on friendly terms. But there is no longer any romance. I am entirely satisfied with this turn of events and wish her all the best with her future.
Discerning a Vocation
Around about this time – December 2016 – as I was considering alternative life paths and options, the idea came to me that perhaps I would enjoy being a priest. I had always been attracted to the priesthood, but I had always ruled out the idea on the basis of my engagement to Mindy. Now that I was released from my engagement promise, I began to think seriously about the priesthood: Perhaps this was my way out of depression. As I contemplated being a priest, it was the first time that I actually felt attracted to a job and thought that I might actually be good at it.
I decided to get in contact with Father Epeli Qimaqima, the vocations director for the archdiocese of Sydney. One day after work we met at the Archbishops palace, where Father Epeli was living. We discussed my background and plans and desires, and Father Epeli was very encouraging. It wasn’t long after this meeting that I became entirely committed to the idea of joining the priesthood. The only thing holding me back was the fact that it was so late in the year and so it would be hard to acquire the appropriate references in time to apply, and also that I was a committed Universalist. At a later meeting with Father Epeli I asked him if my Universalism ruled me out from being a priest. Father Epeli responded that no, it doesn’t, but he was concerned and could not personally subscribe to this sort of theology.
Seeing as it was too late to enter seminary, I decided to apply to UNSW and study computer science in the meantime. Thankfully UNSW accepted my application and I was enrolled to start studying again in 2017.
Move to Gladesville
It was becoming increasingly stressful living with Gamps. He had started to charge board and wanting me to move out. If I had not found a place by mid-February he was going to double the rent.
I got in contact with my old flatmate, little Alex. He was approaching the end of his degree and would soon have to move out. I asked him if he would be keen to live together again and he was right on board with the idea. We started house hunting and applying for places to live around the inner west. Unfortunately I didn’t anticipate just how much competition there was going to be. The odds of us actually scoring a house or flat were obviously minuscule, especially considering I was about to quit my job.
Thankfully little Alex managed to find a place: his mate from UTS, Henry Jacobs, was renting a house in Gladesville with his girlfriend. They had recently broken up and Henry was looking for someone else to move in and help pay the rent. Me and little Alex signed up immediately and made the move.
For the first 10 weeks of living in Gladesville I was living in a store room and sleeping on a couch. I bought lots of furniture but was unable to set it up because all of Henry’s stuff was already filling the space. It felt kind of third world, but I was happier and less stressed than when I was living with Gamps, so it was a step up.
Return to UNSW
Over the preceding two years, after the traumatic interactions with Mindy and Alex McCoy, I had developed a slow burning hatred of Protestants. They all seemed entirely ignorant and stupid. I wanted them all to die and be cleansed from the earth in some great calamity. Their core theological convictions all seemed like utter crap to me. Sola Fide was clearly and specifically contradicted by James 2:24. Sola Scriptura was obviously self-contradictory, incoherent nonsense. Protestants seemed entirely blind and idiotic.
I realised that this hatred of Protestants was not healthy. I was constantly praying for God to heal me and take the hatred away. I hated Protestants so much and wanted them all to die in a fire, and I knew that such hatred was damaging my soul and dragging me down to Hell.
I turned up at UNSW on my first day, and was incredibly excited to attend my first class: “Introduction to New Testament Greek”. I was incredibly tense: I knew that this sort of subject would attract armies of hyperventilating evangelicals and was preparing myself for arguments and hostilities. Thankfully the class came and went without issue.
I wandered around campus waiting for my next class, and noticed hordes of CBS evangelicals walking around campus evangelising people. They had also taken over the quad and there were thousands of them sitting in circles doing bible studies. I tensed up, experienced flashbacks to my arguments with Mindy and Alex McCoy, and became full of hatred and disgust. “Fuck these heretics” I thought to myself, and left the area swiftly.
The next day at Uni, I noticed a poster which advertised a Catholic society event: ice cream and pancakes to welcome students to the new year and new semester. I eagerly awaited this event, avoiding the brainwashed CBS hordes as best as I could.
As I walked up the stairs of the squarehouse to the Catholic chaplaincy, I was incredibly nervous. I had only just emerged from my depression and was still feeling a bit shaky. I didn’t know if I would be able to maintain conversation with people.
But the event turned out to be awesome. I spent most of my time talking to a Singaporean girl called Kamilla, and a Chinese girl called Scarlett. We talked about language, religion, the bible, translations, China and so on. It was great fun and I was in high social gear. I stayed for the entire event, even after people had left. Eventually I ended up standing in a circle with the only other people in the room, one of whom was Jess Gereis and another Tamara Neil. Both these girls seemed like super evangelical, mega devout Catholics. This was incredibly exciting.
As the weeks went by I made many friends in the campus Catholic society. The people in the society seemed devout and faithful, even if many of them had been poorly catechised. I felt happy and content for the first time in a long time: I finally had a decent Catholic community I could hang out with on a regular basis. My prayers had been answered again!
Unfortunately during this time my antagonism towards the protestants deepened. I would walk past the CBS bible studies and be filled with disgust, cursing them and wishing damnation upon them. My hatred was starting to spill over onto facebook, where I was writing horrible things about evangelicals and blaming them for all of society’s ills. I was a pot that was slowly boiling over. This was not healthy; my hatred was eating me from within, and my constant prayer was “God, please take the hate away.”
My first semester came and went, and I enjoyed a Catholic retreat with the Chaplaincy and various other events with the Catholic society during the mid year break.
During this time I continued to read the Eclectic Orthodoxy blog. I stumbled across an article series which I had read before and it had resonated with me, but I didn’t fully understand. It was titled “Sola Fide and why Catholics, Orthodox and Protestants need the reformation”. I gave it a read again. As I read it, it started to make more and more sense. Suddenly I was struck by lightening: I finally understood what “Sola Fide” was all about. I realised that the Catholic church really had fallen off track in a very important sense. I realised that Sola Fide – when correctly understood – does not contradict James 2:24.
In the blink of an eye, I understood the core convictions that drive Protestantism, and I realised that these people were not so stupid, evil and depraved after all. Suddenly I had the same gospel joy that they had, and I was no longer jealous of their happiness.
Most importantly, I no longer hated them. I actually began to love them once again.
Ever since I came to this understanding of Sola Fide, I have been able to attend Protestant services again, and enjoy fellowship with Protestants. I even began to attend my local Anglican church on Sunday evenings.
The Archbishops Palace
During 2017 I went on a couple of “Discernment retreats”. This is where a whole bunch of guys come together and camp out while talking about spiritual matters and attempting to work out whether or not to commit to the life of a priest. This was great fun and intensely enjoyable for me.
During the second such retreat, I met a certain young Lebanese guy who seemed entirely puffed up with pride and hatred towards all non-Catholics. I saw myself reflected in him and decided to have a chat with him. I told him with a twinkle in my eye that I thought he would be a fun one to debate. We ended up sitting down and passionately arguing about a variety of topics. I was basically trolling him, and he was getting all hot and steamy. He was incredibly rigid. He treated the catechism as infallible. Whenever I attempted to propose an idea which was contradictory to established church teaching, he would call foul and flick to the relevant part of the catechism, attempting to shut me up by ecclesiastical fiat.
Talking to this guy made me realise that I might face some opposition in my priestly journey. I did not want to be a liberal, but neither did I want to be a conservative. I wanted to remain faithful to the dogmatic, liturgical and scriptural traditions of the Church, but I am not going to pretend that all church teaching is infallible when in actual fact the vast majority of it is not. If I feel the need to dispute some established teaching, I am well within my rights to do so.
Due to my being on the radar of the Archdiocese as a “discerner”, I was invited to the Archbishops palace for a formal dinner along with many of the other discerners in the diocese. The night was incredibly enjoyable: The Archbishop gave a kickass speech, the food was great, the conversation was wonderful. I was expecting the Archbishop to be a total politician, but in actual fact the man managed to present himself as nothing more than a faithful Christian. I was completely impressed.
As 2017 came to a close, I reflected on my goals and plans. I was pretty committed to the idea of being a priest, so why on earth was I wasting my time with a computer science degree? I figured I should either enter seminary, or study something more relevant to my goals.
I researched the University of Sydney biblical languages department. I discovered that it is possible to learn Greek, Latin, Hebrew and Syriac in a tight double degree structure. I was immediately sold. I applied for transfer from UNSW to USYD and after a painful wait, was accepted.
During the Christmas of 2017 Mindy visited again. This time it was a nice and pleasant visit. We were just good friends by this point. We didn’t end up having sex, which relieved and overjoyed me tremendously. I accompanied her to one of her FOCUS friend’s wedding, and she accompanied me to my local Anglican church. It was wonderful to see her again and just hang out as friends.
To Be Continued…
2018 has begun. I am no longer depressed. Life is entirely bright and wonderful. I am having the time of my life. I am looking forward to my language studies tremendously. I finally have lots of Catholic friends and feel completely content in my faith. I am a passionate evangelist for the one true Gospel of Universal Salvation, and am having some success spreading the word among my fellow Catholics.
I have been occupying my time by hanging out with Mormons, Seventh Day Adventists, Muslims and Jehovah’s Witnesses. It’s great fun to get to know what these other groups believe and build relationships with those who are different to me. I’m particularly impressed with the Mormon doctrine of “Afterlife ministry”: They believe that the people in Heaven will travel to Hell and minister to the people who are trapped there, hopefully saving them and enabling them to escape to Heaven. This resonates with me strongly, and seems like an entirely more Christian and loving view of afterlife relations.
I am intending to visit America some time this year, because there is a Universalist conference happening and it would be a dream come true to attend and meet some other Universalists. I would also like to visit my Father in California, and also the writer of the Eclectic Orthodoxy blog, Father Kimel. Father Kimel has been a massive influence on me through his writings and I eagerly desire to meet him in person and shake his hand, thanking him for the joy that he has managed to spread to my life. I contacted him and he was happy to hear from me, offering to let me stay at his house with him and his wife for a short time.
Hopefully I succeed in my journey to priesthood, and am able to keep up with the work during my biblical languages studies. Life is good. Please pray for me and my future. God’s blessings be with you.