An atheist brought me here; from altar boy to PCUSA presbyter
Attending the Chicago Presbytery Assembly as an elder commissioner—at Second Presbyterian Church. Photos: Gerald Farinas.
I was raised in the Catholic Diocese of Honolulu, on an island where faith is as much a part of the land and wind as it is of the sanctuary. I was an altar boy to two bishops.
Hawaiian Catholicism shaped the earliest language of my spirituality. But it shaped it the wrong way. I was unfortunately very hardened on the idea that it was the only way to be Christian.
And yet, one of the most pivotal turns in my religious life didn’t come from a priest or a parish retreat. It came from a section in our AP European History textbook, taught by an atheist, Darlene Pang.
It was there, in a fluorescent-lit classroom at Moanalua High School, where I first encountered the Reformers—Luther, Calvin, Zwingli—and the fierce Catholic response in the Counter-Reformation.
Mrs. Pang didn’t preach it, but she opened the door.
She gave me the space to wonder: What was at stake? What did these people believe in so deeply that they would risk everything?
That curiosity followed me into college, where I enrolled at a Jesuit university—Loyola University Chicago.
There, something unexpected happened: I didn’t double down on Catholic identity in a narrow sense. I deepened my faith in ways that expanded my horizons.
Jesuit chaplains taught me that faith must be thoughtful—and that we have to learn about other faith traditions to understand our own sense of spirituality.
It’s like going to the eye doctor who switches from lens to lens until things become clearer—and one can read the smallest line on the chart.
Jesuit professors showed me that justice, inquiry, and reflection were forms of prayer. Questioning is a form of prayer!
I learned about discernment—that quiet and often agonizing practice of listening for the movement of the Spirit in daily life.
And through that discernment, I found myself drawn toward Reformed theology, particularly in its Presbyterian expression.
I found a tradition that honored the collective wisdom of the Church, valued reason, and believed that the work of faith belongs to everyone—not just the ordained.
I found a place that believed in both social justice and grace, both public witness and spiritual formation.
To many, my journey might seem like a departure—from Catholic roots, from Jesuit institutions, even from sacramental tradition.
But I see it as a fulfillment of my Ignatian spirituality.
I became a ruling elder in the Presbyterian Church (USA) not because I abandoned Catholicism, but because I was trained by Jesuits to ask hard questions, to listen deeply, to seek God’s greater glory not in personal piety alone, but in the transformation of communities.
Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam didn’t stop being my call—it simply found a new denominational home.
The PCUSA gave me language for the priesthood of all believers, the courage to speak truth to power, and the tools to practice communal discernment.
And in the PCUSA, I saw echoes of everything I admired in the Jesuits: rigorous thinking, intentional service, a global consciousness, and a relentless pursuit of justice grounded in love.
I didn’t lose anything in this journey.
I integrated it.
In the end, I remain a product of the Diocese of Honolulu, a student of Darlene Pang’s secular skepticism, a man formed by Jesuit imagination, and now a leader in a Reformed church that sees God’s sovereignty as inseparable from God’s compassion.
This isn’t contradiction.
It’s convergence.
It’s the long arc of discernment.
And I am still listening.
