Apostasy

Cherry

By luigi_pagano

Sat, 17 Oct 2026
  • 181 reads
7 comments
 

I returned to my old hunting grounds
to find that most buildings had altered,
but the Norman cathedral still stood,
impervious to the wind of change.
Perhaps it was looking worse for wear, 
with the weather having taken its toll:
the brittle bricks in need of some repair
and its right wall covered in vegetation.
I had always admired its architecture,
the marble statues and paintings;
I can recall every inch of the interior:
the aisles, the nave, the transept, the altar.
The monks' dormitory and the cloisters
had been part of my  earlier life, religion
having formed the rock of my vocation.
I was expected to be pious and humble,
to imbue myself with sanctity and purity,
yet that foundation stone soon crumbled.
If asked, I cannot pinpoint the moment
when faith vanished, and doubts crept in.
It was a gradual, painful metamorphosis;
I underwent a complete transformation
from an ascetic soul to a freethinker.
I am often accused of wearing blinkers
for not seeing that I simply exchanged
one set of strict beliefs for another.

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Comments

Submitted by luigi_pagano on

Thanks for the cherries, Editors.

Kind regards, Luigi.

 

Submitted by GlosKat on

Hi Luigi

I made the same journey as you - brought up Catholic (including convent school) then when I became old enough to think for myself firstly an agnostic and then an atheist. My journey wasn't painful like yours though, I found it an entirely natural progression.

I suppose you could say I now have one set of beliefs rather than another, but I don't have a problem with that.  I now have the beliefs I came to by thinking about things for myself, rather than other people's beliefs being imposed on me.  And I consider that a definite improvement.

A very interesting and thought provoking post.

 

 

Submitted by luigi_pagano on

Hi Kat. Thanks for sharing your thoughts.
I too underwent a transition from Catholicism to agnosticism, but not as traumatic as my poem seems to suggest. I have used artistic licence to describe a situation that was prevalent during my youth in Italy. The church, at that time, exerted a lot of pressure on youngsters to join the priesthood. Many of my friends enrolled in seminaries, urged by the parochial vicar. After a few years, disillusionment set in, and they returned home to their previous lives. I had already made up my mind and avoided that experience.

Best wishes, Luigi x

 

Submitted by Di_Hard on

I don't know how the diverging path you describe could be changed back now there are so many ways for young men to earn a living that do not involve such personal sacrifice. All the incredibly beautiful buildings left behind, do young people care about them at all, have such memories as you, Luigi?

 

Submitted by luigi_pagano on

I think we may be talking at cross purposes here, Di. In my previous comment to Gloskat, I pointed out that the poem wasn't autobiographical but was based on what happened to a group of my friends in Italy many years ago.
They attended a seminary, urged by a devoted and enthusiastic vicar to become priests, not just to earn a living, but because they believed they had a vocation. They found out their faith was not strong enough. It was a matter of deliberate choice to diverge from the “path of rughteousness”. Whether becoming freethinkers meant that "they exchanged one set of strict beliefs for another "is a question that requires further discussion.
N.B. Despite being faithless, they became upright, caring citizens who loved their neighbours and did no harm. 

Thanks for joining the conversation. Best wishes, Luigi x
 

 

Submitted by memphis on

As you found your way back to your hunting grounds. I trust that you find your way back to your faith. Of what you once believed to be true. It has not changed. Besides, is there anything better?

Alex Alexander

Submitted by luigi_pagano on

I am touched. Many thanks for your concern, Alex Alexander. 

Best wishes, Luigi.