ZORAK’s post about her journey to the Catholic Church has gotten me thinking about my own bizarro path to Rome. I’m not going to blog about it now, because I haven’t got the mental energy (operating on four hours of sleep, blah)… but I did write a table of contents! So you can experience some small portion of my ongoing wigginess.

EARLIEST MEMORIES: Consciousness of personal sin. I wrote a bit about that here. Didn’t name it as sin because Christianity was not really on the radar screen except as something for dumb televangelists/right-wing political hacks/my inexplicable classmates.

ELEMENTARY SCHOOL: Superstition/Credulousness/Imagination/Creativity (the latter term should be taken in the not-very-complimentary, Allan Bloom on Nietzsche sense).

But also, honor and self-sacrifice, gleaned from the fantasy books I read incessantly.

ADOLESCENCE: Disillusionment

Relativism/Queer activism

Disillusionment again (Riot Grrrl did some good stuff, but there’s only so long you can ponder your navel and cultivate white guilt before you want to KILL something), and a retreat into Shakespeare

Obsession with Falstaff

FRESHMAN YEAR OF COLLEGE: Falstaff or Hamlet? (ultimately, neither.)

Startled by Christians. Including the Mantis and her Mate. The first conversation I ever had with the Old Oligarch included a section where I tried to convince him that philosophy sucked, and only literature had value. I was, at the time, reading Sistah Souljah’s autobiography. Build your own poem.

Startled by Christianity: sin, justice, the body, and honor again. In which I learn what Christianity actually says (for example, the human body is important and good). I read St. Anselm’s Cur Deus Homo, take a class on the history of Christian doctrine and find myself defending the Catholic understanding of the Eucharist, and try to figure out why art matters and why physical things matter.

Christianity is frighteningly realistic–but is it true?

Stumbling blocks: contraception, homosexuality. Boring, I know.

Yeah, it’s true. D’oh. Probably. Argh.

SOPHOMORE YEAR: Upset and uncertain catechumen. I get confirmed despite feeling truly lousy about the whole thing. Fortunately, praying during the Triduum (Holy Thursday, Good Friday, Holy Saturday) kept me relatively sane and reminded me of the reality of the Incarnation and the promises of Christ.

Nietzsche: loyalty and the Crucified

SINCE THEN: I’ve been trying to get my act together. Learning about all the immense treasures of prayer and devotional life that the Church offers. Trying to live a Christian life, not just think about it. Went through a brief “Is Christianity evil?” spate of worry and serious unhappiness (alluded to here, last paragraph), got over it, worked out the basic shape of the post-Platonic arguments I make here (and in the two posts below that).

Mostly, right now, I’m just trying to deepen my faith–Duc in altum!