The Sacrament of Reconciliation is one of the greatest things about being Catholic. Screw up the courage to tell an actual person all the rotten dirty things you've done, admit you were wrong, take responsibility, ask forgiveness and GET IT!!
Clean, shiny soul, all yours for the taking! It's really surprising how infrequently most of us take advantage of this enormous advantage our Church offers us.
I don't know about anyone else, but I feel really stupid going to confession when I have nothing major to confess. It would be one thing if I could go in there and say "Bless me Father, for I have sinned. I robbed a bank, slept with the pool boy and voted for Nancy Pelosi". But all I ever have is the same dull, boring run of the mill "I lost my temper, swore at the other drivers, ate two grapes at Cub Foods..."
I never even do that! I have
never eaten the bulk produce at a grocery store. Why? Because it's not mine! Once, I even ran back into the gas station because I prepaid for $10.00 worth and accidentally pumped $10.01. The cashier laughed at me, but I don't want to be the only person in Hell who got there due to a bleepin' penny! A penny! Satan has no respect for me
at all.
I'm sort of afraid that the priest will mock me for my picayune sins.
"What, you haven't been to confession in five years and you expect me to believe
that's all you're guilty of? Am I supposed to call you 'Saint' MLP? Should we take down the statue of the Virgin Mary so
you can stand up there?" *
"I'm sorry," I would whimper. "I work at home and I just don't have that many opportunities to go out and offend God."
"What makes you think your very existence doesn't offend God!!??" the priest would thunder back at me.
Everyone in the church would hear him and from then on the rest of the parishioners would laugh when they saw me coming and sarcastically refer to me as a saint and throw rocks at me.
Humility is supposed to be a virtue, but humiliation, more than any other thing, has actually prevented me from participating in Lenten services. Don't even get me started on the washing of the feet.
Fortunately for the state of my dusty soul, Josie is a pretty conscientious kid. She's been pestering me to go to confession with her. I should probably be worried about what she thinks she's guilty of, but I'm not. We're talking about a girl who apologizes if she doesn't say "Thank you" to the cashier at the drug store in a timely manner. She also asked me last week if it was a sin to think horrible things about other people.
If it is, I'm in trouble. I told her we'd better ask forgiveness for it, just in case.
Last night, we went to a Taize service at church, with the opportunity for individual confession and a large labyrinth for meditation. It was actually a really neat service. Lots of music; a trio of piano, cello and flute. The
Basilica always does a bang up job on the music. Between chants there were readings. Throughout the service there were priests positioned on the edges of the room, ready to hear confessions.
I decided to bite the bullet and get it over with.
Father Bauer couldn't have made it easier on me. We actually chit chatted about how great the music was. Then we got down to business. I apologized for not having anything juicy. He told me most people's sins are pretty dull. This reminded me of JP, who once told me he believed the priests at his parish did rock/paper/scissors to see who got to hear his confession when they saw him coming. The priests in LA may be lonely, but certainly not bored.
Things went pretty well. I fessed up to everything I could think of. I was all ready for my penance of Hail Mary's and Our Fathers, when Fr. B. threw me a curve ball.
"In light of what you've told me, " he said "What do you think would help you to overcome these failings? What do you think would be a good penance for you?"
What?
I have to choose my own penance?
All I wanted was absolution; I didn't actually want to have to
be a better person!
I knew this was a risky business.
*That actually happened to my Mom. Different era of the Church. And she
really is a saint. Stupid priest.
