- Feb 5, 2002
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Above: “Sick man at the walls of a Catholic monastery,” by Fyodor Bronnikov (1874).
“If a person can build a fence around himself, he is bound to do it.” – Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn
One day, I just got in my beat-up old Volvo and drove out of San Francisco. I took with me: my clothes, some personal belongings, and my battered and bruised body. My soul wasn’t in much better shape, but I had long forgotten that it was even there. After years of trying to kill myself, I suddenly wanted to live. I wasn’t sure why. I didn’t believe in an afterlife; I didn’t even believe in heaven, but I acknowledged that there was a hell – after I saw it. I longed for death, because I thought it would mark the cessation of my lifelong suffering. But that’s not what it was for me. My passing from this world could only ensure that my suffering would continue – forever. That was my idea of hell. That I would go on living like I was.
In order to live, I first had to regain a modicum of my health. Which took months. Even then, after turning only thirty, I was an old man. The years had taken their toll on me. I grew up a bullied and lonely boy. When I was a child, I would have traded anything for a friend. By the time I reached my late-teens, I did. But then, I didn’t know the price I’d eventually have to pay. Even though I had been betrayed by one of the few men to take an interest in me, I was still dangerously naive and overly trusting. But I longed for that which had been denied to me – a community; especially a community of men where I could feel safe and protected.
Continued below.
Why the Latin Mass Won’t Save the Catholic Church
“If a person can build a fence around himself, he is bound to do it.” – Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn
One day, I just got in my beat-up old Volvo and drove out of San Francisco. I took with me: my clothes, some personal belongings, and my battered and bruised body. My soul wasn’t in much better shape, but I had long forgotten that it was even there. After years of trying to kill myself, I suddenly wanted to live. I wasn’t sure why. I didn’t believe in an afterlife; I didn’t even believe in heaven, but I acknowledged that there was a hell – after I saw it. I longed for death, because I thought it would mark the cessation of my lifelong suffering. But that’s not what it was for me. My passing from this world could only ensure that my suffering would continue – forever. That was my idea of hell. That I would go on living like I was.
In order to live, I first had to regain a modicum of my health. Which took months. Even then, after turning only thirty, I was an old man. The years had taken their toll on me. I grew up a bullied and lonely boy. When I was a child, I would have traded anything for a friend. By the time I reached my late-teens, I did. But then, I didn’t know the price I’d eventually have to pay. Even though I had been betrayed by one of the few men to take an interest in me, I was still dangerously naive and overly trusting. But I longed for that which had been denied to me – a community; especially a community of men where I could feel safe and protected.
Continued below.
Why the Latin Mass Won’t Save the Catholic Church