On the Journey Home - by Gary Campbell

A quarter of a century ago I made the decision to leave the Society of St Pius X, after 12 years, five of them as a priest. I won’t go into the whys and wherefores. Rather, over several posts I want to share my journey back to normality, in the hope of encouraging others. For each of us the path back home is unique. Yet we share the same basic obstacles and anxieties. It can be a scary journey, and a lonely one. We feel that no-one could possibly understand us. And even when we have returned home, we can feel isolated, and perhaps a little uncomfortable – like a lonely island jutting out of a sea of (apparent) ease and comfort.

For me, parish life after the SSPX was difficult. At first I was anxious about participating in a parish Mass. I felt as if a lightning bolt would strike me, even though I could see nothing wrong with the liturgy. An ecumenical service was more uncomfortable still. My heart told me the earth would open to swallow me, while my mind knew this had to be fine.

That’s what cults do, and Traditionalism is a cult. They want us to be believe that we could not possibly survive outside the sacred community, or, if we do, it is at the expense of our integrity and the trust of the society of true believers. Yet what we are doing, dear sisters and brothers, takes great courage, perseverance, determination, and love. Cowards and traitors cannot accomplish what we have.

I should like to begin by sharing an experience. I was a seminarian in the Society’s seminary in Goulburn, New South Wales, which has since closed. I was spending a few weeks in the Melbourne Priory, and on this particular day I was in St Patrick’s Cathedral. I was kneeling before one of the many beautiful side altars – Our Lady’s, if memory serves, when I was suddenly seized by a feeling of sublime peace and security. It defies description, but I can say I became conscious of being utterly and unconditionally loved. Every worry disappeared, and I felt only joy. I did not feel called to pray, or to do anything except rest in this joy. I do not know how long this experience lasted: five minutes or two hours? I was unaware of the passage of time. When the joy passed, I thanked God, left the cathedral, and, to be honest, hardly thought of the encounter for another 10 years or more.

The point I am coming to is this. When I did recall the event, I had left Traditionalism. I was struggling to learn the beautiful truth that each and every human being who lives, has lived, or ever will live, is completely, unreservedly and irrevocably loved by God. Divine love is not measured out by our love for God. If that were not the case, none of us would be capable of being loved. And that, I believe, is the first bit of baggage we must leave behind. Traditionalism is full of fear. Fear of an angry God; fear of death, punishment, hell, purgatory. That God is an idol invented by fearful people. Fear keeps us from love. Fear keeps traditionalists from imagining a happy life beyond the walls of the sanctuary.

I hesitated sharing my experience. Yet such moments of grace – and you all have your own wonderful tales to tell - are meant not just for ourselves but for the whole Church. The message is for all. We are all special. We are all willed into being because God cannot bear to be without us.

I hope to take up this theme, God-willing, in the next post. In the meantime, God bless us all.