How I was Radicalized (And Why You Should Be Too)

How could my discipleship ever be a polite hobby?

Earlier this week I published an article about the young Spanish Traditional Catholic Juan Antonio Ortega, who publicly and in person confronted a heterodox priest who was hosting LGBTQ-affirming “masses.” He was touted as a hero by many, including myself and many of my readers, and serves as a model for all Catholics who love Christ and the true Church He founded.

What I didn’t touch on at the time, as I wanted to use it as the springboard for this essay, is how Ortega was portrayed in the liberal “Catholic” publication Religión Digital. (It is interesting to note that some of the contributors to Religión Digital, such as Antonio Spadaro, S.J., also contribute to the liberal “Catholic” filth rag Where Peter Is.)

Religión Digital ran the story with the following headline: “Far-right extremists disrupt a ceremony at a church in Seville attended by LGBT believers and call the priest a ‘traitor.’”

Wow. Quite a mouthful. Ortega’s unflinching orthodoxy is reframed as “right-wing extremism.” In other words, he is portrayed as an extreme radical. In the article, the Traditional Catholic group Ortega belongs to, Orate, is branded as “fundamentalist.” Of course, I do not have any problem with any of these terms, but we know that the woke mob does. This is nothing but another attempt to marginalize and malign Christ-loving, tradition-honoring Catholics as “dangerous.”

“Dangerous” to their One World Religion Antichrist Project, mind you.

And if you didn’t notice, it is not “todos, todos, todos” (“everyone, everyone, everyone”) that are welcome, after all.

But don’t feel bad; in the end, the goats and the sheep cannot belong to the same club anyway. And articles like this show they have an aversion to holiness and an aversion to those who reject sin.

Why I chose the example of Mr. Ortega’s misrepresentation by the heterodox liberal “Catholic” press is because I am no stranger to similar accusations. And I am sure neither are most of my readers. (If you haven’t been branded one of the following “insults” yet, why not? I am of course asking this tongue-in-cheek, in the same vein as the old meme that used to float around stating, “If you are not on a government watchlist yet you should be ashamed.”) As I have related here plenty of times in the past, I and my loved ones have repeatedly been painted as radicals, extremists, weirdos with cult tendencies, mentally ill, etc. Of course, I can only smile at some of these, but when it comes to being called a radical, I am—in the modern-day parlance—“down with that.”

In this essay, then, I will not defend myself against accusations of being a “radical,” or by their insinuation “dangerous,” but proudly explain why I am.

A Definition, or Why I Gladly Accept the Word “Radical”

If someone wishes to call me a “radical,” I accept the title without hesitation. In fact, I wear it with a certain pride—because few words, when traced back to their origins, describe my convictions more accurately. The word radical comes from the Latin radix, meaning root. To be radical, in the truest sense, is not to seek novelty or rebellion for its own sake, but to return to the root—to what is essential, foundational, and life-giving.

When critics describe Traditionalist Catholics as radical, they often imagine extremism or excess. But the older and more authentic meaning points to something entirely different: a desire to reconnect with the source, the very taproot that nourished the Church through centuries of saints, martyrs, and councils. Traditionalism is not an escape from Catholicism—it is a return to the wellspring from which Catholicism itself flows.

I claim the word “radical” precisely because I seek what is original, pure, and perennial. I desire the Mass, the devotions, the disciplines, and the theological clarity that formed the saints in order to anchor myself in the root that made the Church flourish. In a world that is constantly shifting, a radical is someone who refuses to drift with the tides and instead digs deeply into that which endures.

So, if being radical means going back to the root, then yes—I am radical. I want the Faith not watered down, not reimagined, not reshaped to suit the age, but embraced in its fullness, its beauty, and its unbroken continuity. The root is where the life is, and I choose to remain planted there.

Now let us take a look at just some of the causes of my so-called “radicalization.”

My Sin

If you are a regular reader of Radical Fidelity, you are aware of the fact that I have more than just a checkered past. I often allude to this to a greater or lesser extent. Without going into too much detail, suffice it to say that in my little more than half a century on the planet, more than 30 years were spent in hopeless addiction, extreme spiritual darkness, and the type of depravity that takes over when man rejects God and turns his tyrannical flesh into his god.

Although I don’t recommend jeopardizing your soul in this fashion, it has given me a certain advantage in my spiritual walk. What do I mean? When you experience firsthand the truth that you cannot save yourself—when you become completely helpless in your godless state—your gratitude when being saved from eternal destruction is very real.

Not only that. You develop an aversion to, and healthy fear of, being entangled in anything that can separate you from the source of your salvation again. When you have tasted hell in this world and have no desire to spend your eternity in the real deal, you become laser-focused on the One who saved you at the expense of all else. So if you come to these pages, or go behind my back calling me a “radical” or threaten me for what you perceive as my radicalism, guess what?

I do not care. What is at stake has value that only One could afford to purchase. My loyalty belongs to only Him. So does my life and every gift He gave me.

See, when He translates you from the Kingdom of Darkness to His Kingdom, the world is no longer your home. The system of filth that is the world, and the system of filth that has overshadowed Rome, is now my enemy. Radical?

Adulterers, know you not that the friendship of this world is the enemy of God? Whosoever therefore will be a friend of this world becometh an enemy of God. (James 4:4)

So yes. I am an extreme, fanatical radical.

But let us continue.

The Search for Truth

Whether you want to admit it or not, we have an in-built desire for truth—for the Truth. A lost world has rejected the Truth, Jesus Christ and His true Church, and is paying the ultimate price. Their desire for Truth, or then God, remains, but because they have rejected the perfect answer to their search and need, they are forever descending deeper and deeper into demonic confusion, fantasy, and relativism. And the Sniper at the gates of heaven picks off their souls one by one as they find themselves totally vulnerable.

Thanks to the grace and mercy of the One True Almighty Living God, my journey has revealed the following little formula, which has become almost mantric for me:

If you sincerely seek the Truth,
you will find Christ.
And if you sincerely follow Christ,
you will find the Catholic Faith.

I guess I do not even have to state the disclaimer here: When I say Catholic Faith I am not referring to the false religion coming out of Rome currently.

And when I found the Truth (or at least when He found me), I became unwilling to surrender Him again. I would rather die than give Him up or betray the gift He gave me:

My salvation.

So yes, the Truth has not only made me a radical, but a dangerous one at that. Because I care for only one thing, namely Jesus Christ and the real Catholic Faith.

Christ & the Cross

I often get told, even by those closest to me, “You can’t say that,” or “If you publish that, it will drive people away.” But the hour is late, and the age of timid half-steps is long past. There is no more time for moderation when the Faith itself is often treated as something negotiable, adjustable, or optional. The Cross does not leave us room for lukewarmness.

When someone calls me an extremist, I have only one answer: My King—the One I follow—endured the most unimaginable suffering for my sake. He was betrayed, scourged, humiliated, and nailed to a Cross. Pretty extreme, if you ask me. The Eternal Word made flesh accepted a death reserved for criminals not because it was moderate or reasonable, but because His love was total. Absolute. Without compromise.

If this is the One I follow, how could my discipleship ever be a polite hobby? How could I look upon a God who gave everything and respond with a faith that gives nothing? The Cross leaves no room for a comfortable Christianity, no space for a faith that bends itself into shapes acceptable to the spirit of the age.

No—if loving Christ with zeal, if clinging to the Cross with both hands, if refusing to dilute the truth of the Gospel earns me the label “radical,” then so be it. I do not measure my faith against the world’s expectations. I measure it against the outstretched arms of Christ crucified.

And compared to that sacrifice, any devotion I offer is not extremism—although you may call it that—it is simply the only fitting response.

The Unchanging and Unchangeable Truth of Catholicism

The whole satanic system, both in secular society and in the synodal “church,” is designed to reduce your mind to mush. Education, revisionist history, entertainment, “science,” and pharmaceutical sorcery to counter invented mental illnesses have all played a part in teaching man not to think. Not to be rational. Like an animal, to pursue only his lowest animal instincts. To consume.

To neutralize this campaign against reason and reality, you need to rebuild your mind around a steel frame. Catholicism is that steel frame. Without it you will not survive the antichrist campaign outside or inside the Church.

Truth does not tremble before the fashions of an age, and the Catholic Faith—rooted in Christ, proclaimed by the Apostles, and guarded by the Church—was never meant to be remade with every passing cultural breeze. We live in a time when many expect religion to soften, to bend, to gently refit itself around the desires of the moment. But Catholicism does not do that. It cannot do that. Its very essence is fidelity to the Truth that is unchanging because it is divine.

People tell me I am too firm, too rigid, too “radical” in my attachment to doctrine. But doctrine is not clay to be sculpted by every new generation’s whims. It is granite—solid, enduring, immovable—because it comes from God, not from us. If Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever, then His teachings are not up for renegotiation. They are not museum pieces to be admired or cultural accessories to be updated. They are the living truth meant to shape us, not the other way around.

The world demands flexibility while the Gospel demands faithfulness. The world asks for compromise, but Christ asks for conviction. And yes, holding fast to what the Church has always taught will draw criticism and persecution—especially from fellow Catholics who have grown uncomfortable with the sharp edges of truth. But the sharpness is precisely what gives truth the power to cut through confusion and pierce the heart.

If this unwavering fidelity earns us the label of “radicals,” then we must accept it. For what could be more radical in an age of constant flux than simply refusing to abandon the eternal? What could be more countercultural than believing that God meant what He said, and that the deposit of faith is not ours to edit but ours to guard?

The Truth does not change because God does not change—and anchoring my life to that Truth is not extremism. It is sanity. It is fidelity. It is Catholicism at its deepest, truest root.

The Dogma of No Salvation Outside the Church

Few teachings ignite stronger reactions than the ancient dogma Extra Ecclesiam nulla salus—“Outside the Church there is no salvation.” And yet, this truth is a beacon. It is a proclamation of the indispensable, God-given means by which salvation enters the world.

In an age terrified of absolutes, the Church dares to speak one. Christ founded one Church, entrusted one deposit of faith, and established one means by which His saving grace flows into the world. To affirm this is not arrogance—it is obedience to the words of the One who said, “I am the way, the truth, and the life,” and who built His Church as the ark of salvation.

Some recoil at the teaching, fearing it sounds harsh or unwelcoming. But the dogma is not about condemning souls; it is about proclaiming the indispensable mission of the Church. It is not the preferred way among many. It is the Only Way.

If the Church is the vessel Christ Himself established for the salvation of humanity, then we cannot treat her teachings as optional or her sacraments as merely symbolic. We cannot pretend that all paths are equal when the Cross proclaims otherwise.

So yes—if believing that the Church Christ founded is necessary for salvation makes me a “radical,” then, again, I will gladly bear the title and defend this truth. It is radical today simply to affirm what every generation of Catholics before us held as obvious: that the Church is not a human club but a divine institution, the Mystical Body of Christ, the ark that carries souls to eternal life. In a world where people can’t even affirm that there are only two genders, I guess this makes me an extreme radical!

I will uphold this dogma. It is not to diminish God’s mercy—it is to proclaim its true place, the place Christ Himself chose: His Church.

The Poison of Modernism Demands a Radical Antidote

We live in an age poisoned by Modernism, a subtle but deadly corruption that seeks to bend the unchanging truths of the Faith to the fleeting whims of culture. Modernism deceives the sleeping faithful with the lie that doctrines can be diluted, that dogmas can be reinterpreted, and that the Gospel itself can be reshaped to appease the spirit of the times. This is not merely an unfortunate error of thought—it is an intentional and systematic spiritual infection, spread by the evilest forces, that saps the vitality of souls and weakens the Church from within.

If to confront it is to be called “radical,” then again, yes, I raise my hand. For there is nothing moderate about defending the integrity of Christ’s Church against a tide of compromise. To stand firm against Modernism is to apply a radical antidote: a return to the roots of the Faith, to the clarity of the Magisterium, to the perennial practices and devotions that have nourished saints for centuries.

Modernism promises comfort, popularity, and ease—but the antidote demands sacrifice, courage, and fidelity. It demands a radical adherence to the truth. To the Mass celebrated in its fullness, to the sacraments preserved in their integrity, to the doctrines of the Church defended with boldness. It calls us to reject the subtle poisons of innovation that masquerade as progress and to restore the Faith to its uncorrupted purity.

Yes, this is radical. But it is radical in the most Christlike sense: not seeking novelty, not chasing worldly approval, but returning to the root from which all holiness flows. Just as the Cross was radical in its cost, so too is the fight against Modernism radical in its necessity. There is no middle ground: the poison spreads unless the antidote is administered.

And so, I choose fidelity over convenience, truth over popularity, and the eternal wellspring of Catholic Tradition over the fleeting allure of modern compromise.

The Filthy Secular Culture & Its Woke Religion

We live in a world drunk on its own self-worship, a culture that has dethroned God and crowned convenience, sensation, and relativism in His place. Its values are fluid, its morals negotiable, its truths manufactured to suit the moment. Some call it “progress.” I call it a filthy secular religion—a religion with no altar, no sacraments, no humility, no God. It demands obedience, but only to the whims of the crowd. It promises salvation but delivers only emptiness and confusion.

In such a world, the call to fidelity is inevitably labeled “radical.” To resist the intoxicating pull of secular opinion—to stand unshaken in the timeless truths of the Church—is, today, the mark of extremism. But if surrendering to the madness of the age is normal, then normality itself has become the enemy of the soul.

The woke religion and the secular culture are not neutral. They are poisonous because they teach men and women to place their own judgment above the law of God, to redefine virtue and sin at their convenience, and to treat the Faith as a cultural accessory rather than the lifeblood of existence. To live in Christ while surrounded by this tide of error demands radical courage: the courage to say “no” when the world says “yes,” to preserve the Faith when everyone around you dilutes it, and to keep the Cross at the center of life even when it is mocked.

In this struggle, there is no compromise: the Church or the culture, the Cross or the crowd.

I choose the Cross. I choose the Church. I choose the root. And in doing so, I embrace the radical life I was called to from the beginning.

The Advance of False and Pagan Religions

We live in a world where the ancient idols are not silent—they have returned in new forms. False religions, pagan practices, and counterfeit spiritualities advance under the guise of tolerance, curiosity, or “personal fulfillment.” Their proliferation is not harmless; it is a direct challenge to the Church, to the Sacraments, and to the souls Christ redeemed on the Cross.

Whether they murder Christians in Nigeria or outlaw our Faith in Irish schools, whether they brand our religion as antisemitic or drive Catholics underground in China—know that eventually they are coming for us. For me and for you. And do you really think when they kick down the door they are going to be “tolerant”? Nice? Accommodating? The real “genocide” they are interested in is wiping the Catholic Faith off the face of the earth in order to bring about their Masonic Utopia. When you are blindfolded and up against the wall, let me know how your “ecumenism” and interreligious prayer meetings are working out for you.

To witness their spread and remain silent is to be complicit. To stand firm, to reject these false paths, and to cling to the eternal truth of the Catholic Faith is to be called “radical.”

These religions cannot save. They twist the natural law, distort the human heart, and pull souls away from the grace of Christ. The faithful, therefore, are called not to timidity but to vigilance, not to compromise but to courage, not to negotiation but to fidelity. To defend the Faith against this tide of error is a radical act of love: love for God, love for the Church, and love for every soul that is blind and lost.

The alternative to proclaiming the supremacy of Christ, the necessity of His Church, and the eternal danger of false worship is not one I am willing to succumb to, and neither should you.

The advance of false religions is relentless. But the root of the Faith is eternal. I plant myself there, I guard it, and I proclaim it boldly. That is radical. That is faithful. That is Catholic.

I want to conclude with the final cause of my so-called “radicalization”: the Fear of God.

In Hebrews 10:31 we read, “It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God.” St. Paul warns us in Galatians 6:7–8, “Be not deceived: God is not mocked… for whatsoever a man shall sow, that also shall he reap.” And again, Scripture reminds us in Hebrews 12:29 that “God is a consuming Fire.” These verses—and countless others—confront us with the overwhelming truth of God’s majesty, holiness, and absolute sovereignty.

How could anyone stand before such a God with a lukewarm faith? How could I cling to moderation when the Almighty Himself calls me to repentance, to conversion, to fidelity without compromise? The Fear of God is not terror—it is the reverent awe that shakes a soul awake and forces it to choose whom it will serve. It is the fire that purifies and the light that exposes every false comfort.

It is this fear—this deep, sacred awareness of God’s justice and glory—that pushes me to reject the shallow religion of the age, to cling to Tradition, to return to the root.

If you want to call it radicalization, be my guest. I call it salvation. I call it faithfulness. I call it the beginning of wisdom.

And so I stand where I must stand: at the foot of the Cross, at the root of the Faith, in holy fear before the living God.

I pray that you join me.

Our Lady, Co-redemptrix, pray for us…

Our Lady, Mediatrix of all Graces, pray for us…

Viva Christo Rey!

Also Read:

Most Powerful Woman in Vatican Again tells the Whole World they are Inventing a New Religion

More Synodal Church Lunacy from the You-Can’t-Make-This-Up Department…

“You Are Welcoming Sin”: Young Traditional Catholic Publicly Confronts Sin-Affirming Priest

Is the Synodal Church Signalling the Imminence of Female Deacons (and Priests)?

On Reverence and the Senile Synodal Grandfather “God”