The Gift of a Good Confession

Photo by Sami Aksu

I’ve never been a natural social butterfly and have put forth a concerted effort to develop and maintain passable people skills over the years. I’ll be the first to say that I’m much better in writing and verbal communication has often been a source of tremendous anxiety in my life. I’m the sort of person who googles neighborhood BBQ etiquette and rehearses grocery store checkout small talk in advance. 

As such, I made a similar habit when I first started attending confession after being received fully into the Catholic Church. In my examination of conscience I would write a short script of talking points to bring up in the confessional and would recite the following prayer. “Lord, help me to give a full and honest confession.” In the confession line I would rehearse my lines until my turn arrived. 

While these were all perfectly valid confessions and none of these practices are technically wrong, I often left the confessional feeling like I had somewhat missed the mark and wishing that I had been more articulate. Recently it occurred to me that perhaps this feeling had very little to do with the precise words I said, or failed to say, but that it was instead faith and trust in God that I was lacking. I was trying so hard to give a “good” confession that I forgot the most important part. I asked God to help me every time without truly leaning into His healing power, trusting that He would give me the words I needed.

I’ve since revised my process for preparing for the sacrament of reconciliation. I still write out an examination of conscience, though it’s now a few brief bulleted reminders rather than a full script. I also recite the same prayer but with this addition. “Lord, send your holy spirit to give me the words I need to lay my sins bare at your feet so that I may properly atone for them.” The first time I said this prayer in the confession line I was blessed with a new sense of calm and I ceased my nervous rehearsing. My mind was totally clear when I entered the confessional. It was one of the most honest confessions I’ve ever given. 

I still catch myself slipping into old habits on occasion and obsessing over how to get the words out right. It’s a work in progress but, as I discovered, atonement for our sins and absolution from them is most complete when we truly, totally and faithfully relinquish our human failings to God. Reconciliation is a sacrament, an outward sign instituted by Christ to give grace. Of course, we need to properly prepare ourselves to receive it with a focused and genuine examination of our past wrongs but then we must give ourselves over entirely to Him.

The Near Occasion of Sin

For a large portion of my life I believed, as many people do, that my actions mattered more than my thoughts. I was raised to be a good law abiding citizen, to respect my elders, to be kind and courteous and compassionate to everyone, whether I liked them or not. However, I also felt free to think whatever I wanted. By this logic I could judge random folks on the street for everything from their poor taste in shoes to their questionable smoking habits so long as I remained polite and civil in my words and actions. I could call my sister all manner of unfortunate names when she annoyed me as long as it was only in my mind. I could engage in a profane and road ragey tirade every time someone cut me off in traffic as long as this tirade could never be perceived by fellow drivers.  

Thought matters. God knows our hearts and our minds. It’s why we graciously thank our friends and family for all of those birthday presents that we didn’t even ask for. It really is the thought that counts and even if we didn’t get exactly what we wanted we know that those gifts all came from places of love. 

Our thoughts precede our words and actions which is why it’s generally far easier to avoid negative temptations altogether than to try to resist them. This is exactly what we are called to do as Catholics. At the conclusion of every Catholic confession the priest provides us with a penance to perform in reparation for our sins and asks us to recite an act of contrition in which we “firmly resolve with the help of God’s grace to sin no more and to avoid the near occasion of sin.” Sinful thoughts can lead us to all manner of situations in which we turn away from God; the sin of scandal, jealousy, or even the worship of false gods through addiction. In today’s fast paced world with a wealth of entertainment and information at our fingertips it’s easier than ever to fall into an endless screen addiction. 

We are all called to be Christ for the world even in those moments when no one is watching. To live truly Catholic lives we must always work to keep our thoughts, words and actions clean and to approach every situation through the lens of genuine love and service for our neighbors. 

Broken Strings

Photo by Steve Johnson

“God loves us in our brokenness.”

This was a sentence spoken in a homily on one Divine Mercy Sunday which reduced me to tears. It was perfectly timed, coming immediately after a confession in which I divulged my deepest regret. I had just confessed to being broken. I don’t mean to say that I was a victim of circumstance or abuse or even that my heart had been mangled beyond repair. My brokenness was not that of a discarded toy. More like an out of tune piano with a few broken strings. A practiced pianist could still bring forth countless sweet melodies but until its final tune up (purification of purgatory) there are some keys that won’t play.

By consequence of my own bad decisions, I was, I am and I will always be at least somewhat defective as a follower of Christ in this earthly life. No one can rewrite the past, no matter how much we might wish to at times. Of course, I understand that past mistakes don’t necessarily make me a worthless human being but there was one in particular that still haunted me as I approached my sacraments. In my newly found faith I knew that God deserved better. Thankfully, He did not abandon me to my regret.

In that confessional and throughout that homily as the priest’s eyes found mine, I believe I met Christ. I had previously accepted and practiced His teachings but on this Divine Mercy Sunday we came face to face. My deepest shame was met with an overwhelming, seamless, outpouring of kindness, compassion, love and forgiveness which struck me to my core. I can still see the young priest’s face, glowing warmly from sunlight through a nearby window, his eyes smiling paternally as he said these words to the assembly while looking directly at me. Another piece of the wondrous puzzle which is our faith finally fell into place. God’s forgiveness is so much bigger than me and my sins. I can still recall the flood of relief from this realization every time I think back to that day. 

We are all broken. In some way we all have a few busted strings and are defective in our pursuit of Heaven but, mercifully, God loves us anyway; perfectly, completely and without condition.