Confessions of a Free Range Prolapsed Catholic

A long time ago I visited the Synagogue in Newcastle. I describe myself as a free range prolapsed catholic. At the time of my journey to the Synagogue I was Catholic to my bone marrow! Recently I heard someone say “I don’t believe in the Creator, I believe in Creation”. That’s where I too, have arrived!

Rabbi Apple had come to Newcastle. I was up to my eyebrows and beyond in Catholic Education in my Diocese. I had never entered a Synagogue before. As a child I was taught never to go into a different Christian Church to say nothing of a Synagogue!

I sat next to a woman much older than I. She was beautiful. She smiled at me and greeted me with “Shalom”. Lovely jewels, beautifully “coiffed” hair, smart clothes. We listened to the Rabbi.

At the end of his talk, the beautiful woman, reached out, took hold of my hand and said “we are all the same you know.” It was then I saw the tattoo on her arm . Such a beautiful and holy moment for me and for her I remember.

Now the horror of yesterday December 14th 2025 is spreading with unbelievably rapid speed. Like a bush fire fuelled by a raging westerly wind across the desert of judgement. Real time vision, 24/7 news access, replays of coverage of mass killing by two people only! And here in the “Lucky Country” we wonder how it could happen here.

I heard an achingly sad, stoic controlled member of the Jewish Community in Bondi say “we just need to connect” – as human beings not as members of a religion, or nationality, or sport , or political persuasion, gender or class or anything except belonging to humanity.

How could this happen in Australia is a rhetorical question surely! When a politician says “this is the worst massacre in the history of our country” as their live broadcast response to a television journalist I think ” really?” Whose country?

When did it become anybody’s country? Does it belong to anyone, or do we all belong to it?

I went out tonight. An attempt at deflection filled me (again) with confusion bordering on panic. Someone I know, respect, admire has “lost” someone. I had to retreat! Youngest offspring to my rescue!

On the way home, we passed that synagogue. Situated at the bottom of a hill named after the first Anglican Bishop of Newcastle, New South Wales. A police car parked opposite. A proud and sturdy building. Flowers strewn along the entire length of its fence in row upon and row.

As a child I was never allowed to use the word hate. “Hate put Jesus on the Cross”. Was Mum’s decree! “Hate means I wish you were dead” was what I passed down followed by ” I dislike you intensely” as an acceptable alternative!

Hate has done this. Connection leads to respect and honour. Only these can create community,

We have to do better!