Monica Dux is one of them. A smart feminist author with a regular column in Age, Dux wrote a moving personal memoir that will resonate with many. expired is driven by biting and blasphemous humor, and is a scathing and effective denunciation of the Roman Catholic Church, from Pope Francis to the bottom. For this reason, it should be read by all who still love this institution or respect its teachings.

Dux grew up in the 1970s and 1980s in the middle-class suburb of North Ryde in Sydney. Until the middle of her teens, she was, in her own words, “the perfect Catholic girl and most likely to meet our Lord.” Her mother was pious (according to Dux, she literally never missed Sunday Mass; a one foot high plaster statue of Mary adorned her dressing table). Obviously, Ms. Dux’s influence on her young daughter ran deep.

To give the flavor, ten-year-old Monica played the part of Jesus in her 5th grade Easter play. She named her parakeet. She was such a good pair of shoes that she felt compelled to invent sins to confess to her pastor, Father McGlone. His favorite film was the 1943 Hollywood biopic. Bernadette’s song (“Tasteful Catholic Torture Pornography”). She worried about the immortal soul of her “wandering Anglican” father. Unsurprisingly, she aspired to be a nun.

These revealing details add up and there are some wonderfully evocative photos. The most beautiful is that of Dux in her First Communion dress: it adorns the front of the cover.

Dux admits to having “loved every minute of being a young Catholic” until at the age of 15 or 16 she rebelled, converting to “scandalous atheism”. Persistent unresolved doubts about the supernatural were part of it. But the catalyst, she explains, was outrage at the Church’s teachings on sex, especially its ban on the use of condoms during the AIDS epidemic of the 1980s.

Dux flaunted his apostasy at school by dressing like a giant condom for a health class project. In expired, she denounces the official teachings of the Church on, among others, abortion, priestly celibacy, fornication and homosexuality. “Why,” she asks, “is a religion that is meant to be spiritual fellowship with God so obsessively focused on *******? “

All of this is understandable and often amusing – albeit, for any serious Christian believer, sadly unbalanced. Knowledge of Dux’s theology is patchy. In the weaker parts of the book, she relies on discredited authorities on Jesus such as HS Reimarus and Reza Aslan, not to mention the laughable Richard Dawkins.

Still expired has undeniable power, derived from the blatant honesty and seriousness of the author’s purpose. She wrote it because “despite all my pride about my utter disbelief … Catholicism has followed me like a shadow.” To this day, she admits, she is “in conflict with a strange religious heritage.”

Above all, she experiences a “crippling uncertainty” about her still cherished childhood memories. In light of the appalling revelations about the Church’s complicity in child sexual abuse and its grossly inadequate response to the scandal, Dux felt compelled to investigate her upbringing. What was real, what was corrupt? What should she do now with the Christian religion?

“What do we convert to when we throw Jesus away? -Monica Dux

For this evangelical critic, the most fascinating passage is the one describing his father’s funeral. It was conducted in an Anglican church by a pastor named Steve.

“Oddly,” writes Dux, “what stood out to me the most that day was the way Steve held himself. He could have been anyone in that crowd. He took his own cup of tea, put cake on his own plate, mixed in. He was dressed in elegant, non-religious clothing, unlike any Catholic priest I have ever known.

And then, the kicker.

“I wondered what it might have been like if I had been raised Anglican. Maybe I could still go to church, when I want to, without feeling any anger. Maybe I could pray, if I wanted to, without feeling guilty.

She admits to feeling a touch of rage towards her beloved father for not having questioned “the Catholic agenda” or encouraged Protestant alternatives with more force. Elsewhere, she comments on an adult visit to Canterbury Cathedral (“a cool, modern, interactive Anglican-style experience”).

There are several clues in expired that, despite his protestations to the contrary, Dux is still in search of the divine. She correctly identifies the key question: “What do we convert to when we throw Jesus away?”

Respectfully, I make these few suggestions to Dux.

To get started, reread the New Testament for yourself and a few other decent books on the historical Jesus. Try those from Garry Wills and NT Wright, or Australians Paul Barnett and John Dickson. Consider what CS Lewis wrote about sex in Pure christianity (“The sins of the flesh are bad, but they are the least bad of all sins”). And watch Pasolini’s masterpiece from 1964 The Gospel according to Saint Matthew, perhaps the best film about Christianity ever made.

Roy Williams’ books include God, in fact

expired
By Monica Dux
ABC books, 343 pages, $ 34.99