The Spirit and the Flesh Read online

  Copyright © 2019 TJ Dias

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study, or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the publishers, or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the publishers.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  That Catholic Killjoy!

  A Ray of Orthodoxy in a Modern World

  Brits Abroad

  The Origin of Man

  Creation or Accident?

  The Fall of Man

  The Price of Free Will

  Dope-Smoking Serpents

  The “Bit by Bit” Principle

  The New Paganism

  The Inversion of Morals

  The Human Zoo

  A Gift That’s Not Cheap

  Sugar-coated Poison

  The Rock That’s Crumbling

  Love and Sacrifice

  Prophecies and Miracles

  Sowing to the Spirit

  The Last Night of Vice?

  The Morning After

  The Spirit Versus the Flesh

  Acknowledgments

  First and foremost, I thank Almighty God for the successful completion and publication of this work.

  Thanks to the Blessed Mother, St Joseph, St Anthony of Padua, St Francis de Sales, St Therese of Lisieux, Hilaire Belloc and G.K. Chesterton for all being at my side on this endeavour.

  Finally, thanks to my dad for his help and support.

  1

  That Catholic Killjoy!

  ‘Boy oh boy, Amsterdam’s gonna be great!’ said Roger to Paul after swilling down some of his pint of lager. ‘My mouth is positively watering for it. I can’t wait!’

  Paul smiled and nodded in agreement.

  ‘I reckon Amsterdam better stock right up on its beer and import more weed before I come into town,’ Roger added. ‘I’m gonna be living it up like there’s no tomorrow.’

  Paul chuckled before adding his intentions.

  ‘You can count me in with living it up like there’s no tomorrow,’ he said excitedly. ‘This’ll be my first-ever time in Amsterdam, so nothing’s gonna stop me exploring everything the place has to offer.’

  Paul Thompson and Roger Swindon were housemates and undergraduate law students at Warwick University. They were supping beer at their student union bar and excitedly looking forward to an upcoming weekend break in Holland’s capital city, leaving on Friday morning and coming back Sunday afternoon. They’d be going with their new housemate, Sean Brady, who presently wasn’t with them.

  ‘I keep forgetting this’ll be your first time in Amsterdam,’ Roger said to Paul. ‘You’re in for the ride of your life, mate. I’ll show you all the best places: the best shops; the best clubs; where to drink the best beer; where to smoke the best joints; and where to find the best-looking ladies of the night. Yeah, this weekend is gonna be a fiesta of blissful, unconstrained, uninhibited, no-holds-barred pleasure-seeking.’

  ‘Sounds good to me,’ said Paul, licking his lips.

  ‘I remember my first-ever time in Amsterdam,’ Roger began to recollect. ‘When I was shown around De Wallen – the red-light district – for the very first time… it just absolutely blew me away. Then when I saw the ladies of the night for the first time, I almost collapsed with excitement.’

  An excited gleam came into Paul’s eyes at Roger’s words.

  ‘What are the ladies of the night like?’ he asked. ‘I mean, are there many pretty ones?’

  ‘There certainly are,’ replied Roger. ‘Obviously there’s a few ugly ones, as well as a few fat ones and a few old ones. You’ll see when you’re there. You get a variety. There’s blondes, brunettes, black women, Asian women, Latinos, Filipinos. There’s always a good selection on offer to cater for everyone’s tastes. Personally, I’m partial to a Dutch blonde, but I’m sure you’ll find one that tickles your own particular fancy.’

  Paul hunched his shoulders before taking a sip of his lager.

  ‘I’m not sure I’ve got the nerve to actually pay a visit to one of them,’ he admitted.

  Roger screwed up his face.

  ‘What are you, a man or a mouse?’ he scowled. ‘I thought you just said you were ready to explore everything the town has to offer?’

  Paul remained silent. Though he wouldn’t admit it, the idea of visiting a prostitute made him apprehensive. It crossed his line a little.

  ‘I dunno,’ said Roger, shaking his head. ‘You disappoint me, Paul. I had you down as a liberal-minded type of man without any hang-ups or reservations about indulging in life’s pleasures.’

  ‘I am liberal-minded!’ Paul insisted. ‘But I’ll see how I feel about it when I’m there. Are you definitely going to visit one?’

  ‘You’re damn right I am,’ Roger replied, emphatically. ‘It’s the main reason I’m going.’

  Paul laughed.

  ‘One lucky lady, whoever it may be, will be granted access to my Greek god body,’ said Roger, alluding to his bulky, power-lifter’s physique that was formed during frequent visits to the gym.

  ‘I’ve got absolutely no hesitation about it,’ he continued. ‘As far as I’m concerned, there’ll be no limits to my search for pleasure on this holiday. We’ve only got one life and we have to live for the here and now. We should never allow potential moments of pleasure to pass us by. Satisfying our appetites is what life is all about and I’m sorry for anyone who doesn’t believe that.’

  Roger then felt the need to throw an accusation at Paul.

  ‘I reckon you’re spending too much time with that holier-than-thou monk now living with us. His influence is rubbing off on you, inhibiting you and making you fearful.’

  ‘You talking about Sean?’ asked Paul.

  ‘Yeah,’ said Roger. ‘I don’t want to be horrible, but I really don’t know why he’s coming to Amsterdam with us. I’ve got this fear he’s gonna stifle our fun out there.’

  Up till now, Roger had kept his feelings about Sean to himself, but drink was finally bringing out his inner concerns.

  ‘I mean, what’s he gonna be doing?’ Roger continued. ‘He doesn’t drink, he doesn’t smoke, he’s clearly not into erotic entertainment. He’s made it clear he’ll be keeping away from the red-light district. So what’s the point of him coming?’

  ‘Well, I’ve never been, but there must be more to Amsterdam than just the red-light district,’ Paul proposed.

/>   ‘Really?’ answered Roger. ‘I suppose you’re only going to Amsterdam for the tulips, aren’t you?’

  Paul shook his head.

  ‘I’m going for the same things as you,’ he said. ‘But Sean’s different to us. He has different morals. You’ve got to respect that.’

  ‘I do respect that,’ claimed Roger. ‘I’m just wondering why someone with his kind of morals wants to join us on what’s supposed to be a trip of unrestricted pleasure. That’s what this trip is gonna be all about. So why is he joining us?’

  ‘Because we asked him,’ Paul reminded Roger.

  ‘We asked him out of courtesy,’ said Roger, ‘because he’s our new housemate. But we didn’t think he’d say “yes”, did we? What gets me is that he hasn’t come to any pubs or clubs with us, or socialised with us very much. When he does go out, it’s usually with his church friends, so I don’t know why he agreed to join us on this trip. I mean, are we gonna be able to do all the stuff we wanna to do with him tagging along?’

  ‘He won’t get in the way of our enjoyment,’ Paul asserted. ‘When we go to the red-light district, he’s gonna go his own separate way. He won’t interfere with us.’

  The man in question, Sean Brady, was a post-graduate theology student who had strong religious convictions. In fact, he was a staunch Roman Catholic in the traditionalist, orthodox mould. Whereas Roger and Paul were on the same course and had shared a house for almost a year, Sean had only come into their lives in the past six weeks, when their landlord advertised for a third lodger. He was the only one they could find who was prepared to live in their scruffy, unkept, semi-detached house.

  ‘You’re really not that keen on Sean, are you?’ Paul accused Roger.

  ‘I’ve got nothing against him,’ Roger replied, defensively. ‘But there are just things about him that really get to me.’

  ‘Like what?’ asked Paul.

  ‘Like the fact that he seems to lead such an unexciting, mundane life,’ Roger bluntly replied. ‘He’s obviously ended up all repressed and inhibited by that religion of his, which was no doubt brainwashed into him since he was a baby. It’s religion that’s made him the bland, unexciting person he is. And he’s such a straight-laced, clean-cut goody-two-shoes. Doesn’t he get on your nerves just a little bit?’

  Paul shook his head.

  ‘I think he’s alright,’ he replied. ‘He’s actually a really nice person when you get to know him. But you’ve not tried to get to know him.’

  ‘Just because he shares the rent with us doesn’t mean I have to go out of my way to be friends with him,’ said Roger. ‘And anyway, you say I’ve not tried to get to know him but he’s the one who stays out of our living room every evening and keeps to his own room. He’s the unsociable one.’

  ‘He stays out of the living room to avoid the things we watch on TV,’ said Paul, ‘a lot of which he finds immoral.’

  ‘Immoral?’ queried Roger. ‘But he won’t even watch soap operas or family-friendly sitcoms with us. Isn’t that a bit extreme?’

  ‘It seems a bit extreme to us,’ said Paul, ‘but he obviously finds those programmes not to his liking. Like I said, you’ve got to respect his morals.’

  ‘His morals went out in the Victorian age,’ quipped Roger. ‘We’re living in the year 2001, not 1901, and yet his morals are more old-fashioned than my grandparents’. I’m not kidding. At twenty-three he’s more of an old fuddy-duddy than my granddad, who’s in his eighties! And I don’t know what he does alone in his room most evenings. Life must be such a drag for him. You know him better than I do. What does he do with himself?’

  ‘I know he prays a lot,’ Paul informed Roger, ‘and he reads and studies. He’s very knowledgeable, and he’s actually quite interesting to listen to. He’s really intelligent.’

  ‘A Jesus freak that’s really intelligent?’ Roger jibed. ‘Are you sure there’s such a thing? I mean, to believe in Christianity or any other religion you really have to have checked your brains in. I’m so glad I wasn’t brought up in a religious household and brainwashed into all that nonsense.’

  ‘You know, I was brought up in the Catholic faith,’ Paul reminded Roger.

  ‘I know,’ said Roger, ‘but at least you had the sense to reject it and see it for the superstitious nonsense that it is. You grew up and grew out of it. Sean didn’t.’

  ‘What makes you so sure it’s all superstitious nonsense?’ asked Paul.

  Roger briefly stared at Paul with an open mouth.

  ‘Are you a believer, then?’ he asked.

  Paul had a brief think before replying.

  ‘I’m not really a believer, but I wouldn’t completely dismiss it. I like to keep an open mind on things.’

  ‘Huh,’ Roger groaned. ‘Y’know, these Christians believe in all their nonsense because they want to believe it. It’s all wishful thinking. They have little or no rational evidence to support their beliefs.’

  With that bold statement Roger swilled down more of his pint.

  ‘I wouldn’t be too sure they don’t have any evidence,’ Paul responded. ‘Sean has some evidence. He believes he was miraculously healed after he had that car accident. You know about his accident five years ago? You can still see the scarring on the side of his head.’

  ‘Yes, I know about his accident and I’ve noticed his scarring,’ Roger acknowledged. ‘I guarantee you he wasn’t miraculously healed. He just happened to make an unusually fast recovery after being badly hurt. These things happen occasionally.’

  ‘But he wasn’t just badly hurt,’ Paul pointed out, ‘he was all set to be pronounced dead. The medics gave him no chance. Then he miraculously recovered. Not only that, he made a full recovery. The story even made the local news up in Newcastle where he’s from.’

  ‘And you believe his recovery was a miracle?’ scoffed Roger.

  Paul had a brief think.

  ‘Well… it might have been,’ he eventually said with eyes full of hope.

  Roger smiled wryly while shaking his head.

  ‘How gullible can you get?’ he said. ‘Y’know, I bet Sean’ll try to preach to us while we’re on this trip because of you. He knows you’re open to his religious hogwash. A couple of times he’s tried to evangelise and push his religion on me, but I wouldn’t stand for it – I just treated him with contempt and he stopped. But I bet while we’re in Amsterdam he’ll preach to us and try to warn us of the wicked sins we’ll be committing, and no doubt he’ll be telling us about the hellfire and damnation that will come our way.’

  ‘He’s not gonna preach to us,’ Paul responded. ‘He’s not like that. What we get up to in the red-light district is our own business; he knows that.’

  ‘I wouldn’t bet on it,’ Roger asserted. ‘I’m telling you, there’s a hidden reason why he’s joining us on this trip. I’m sure he’s got it in his mind to somehow discourage us and make us feel guilty and uncomfortable about what we’ll be doing.’

  Roger finished the remainder of his pint.

  ‘Then again,’ he continued, ‘on second thoughts, I hope he does try to preach to us. It’ll give me a chance to get back at him. If he wants an argument or a debate I’ll more than give him one. And as I’ve got designs on being the best lawyer in Britain I’ll enjoy arguing things out with him and coming out on top. With only plain, rational argument I’ll destroy his mad beliefs once and for all. If he dares to preach to us I’ll be totally ruthless in my retaliation, and I won’t be showing him any sensitivity.’

  ‘He’s very knowledgeable and well read,’ said Paul. ‘I’m sure he’ll give you a run for your money in a debate.’

  ‘D’you reckon?’ a defiant Roger retorted. ‘Well, we’ll see about that.’

  2

  A Ray of Orthodoxy in a Modern World

  While Roger and Paul were downing pints at the student pub, their housemate Sean was b
ack at the house. He was in his room, sitting in his armchair, relaxing and listening to some calming classical music on his CD player. With closed eyes he was locked in deep thought over the trip to Amsterdam. He knew full well that Roger and Paul had only asked him to join them on this trip out of courtesy. He also knew they’d expected him to turn them down… which to their alarm he didn’t! He had his reasons for agreeing to join them.

  Sean Brady was a Geordie of Irish heritage, born and bred in Newcastle. He was a graduate from Leeds Trinity College and was now embarking on a master’s degree in theology at Warwick. His long-term goal was to become both a writer and an apologist for the Catholic faith. And whereas he was deeply religious, his two housemates were most certainly not; they just weren’t on his wavelength. So, in the six weeks he’d spent living with Roger and Paul he’d struggled to fit in, though he found Paul the easier one to communicate with. He found Roger too headstrong, too self-righteous, with too much of a forceful, overbearing personality to go with his bulky power-lifter’s physique. But Sean acknowledged that, along with the muscles, Roger was blessed with an intellect – even if it was a little misguided.

  In the short time he’d been living with them, Sean had come to view both Roger and Paul as typical products of the modern world, especially Roger. They seemed to have little interest in matters of the eternal and were only interested in the here and now, the present moment, seeing earthly pleasures as the main reason for living. With these two for housemates he felt very much the odd man out. But then again, as a traditional, orthodox Roman Catholic, he felt out of place in the modern world in general. For example, he believed in the existence of absolute truth and absolute morality – the very two things that most of modern society rejected. He also believed in the existence of a natural moral law and a natural order ordained by God, and this natural law and natural order was fixed and permanent. He believed anything inherently good remained good, and time could never change what was inherently good. Likewise, anything inherently evil would always remain evil, and time could never change what was inherently evil. For Sean, the idea that truth and morality could “change with the times” was the great Satanic lie that was sweeping the modern world and corrupting it.