I have a confession to make. It is that when I was young I feared going to confession. Nervousness would creep in all over me. The fear was great. The anxiety was paralyzing.
It was almost impossible to mentally review my transgressions before I entered the confessional box. The box was always so dimly lit. The darkness of the box added to the ordeal. I felt very much alone as I knelt in fear and trembling.
Then panic would almost stop my heart when the small confessional box window slid open. The window usually opened with a loud bank. Then I would hear a cold voice say, “Tell me your sins.”
This method of doing private confession had its origin in the fifth century in Ireland. It gradually became universal in the Catholic Church. There was no warm confessional space. There was no soft lighting. There was no background music. It was simply “tell me your sins.”
Today it’s much different. There is more welcome. There is more heart. There is more compassion. There is more understanding. There is even the option of going face to face. And there is always the ever-present and infinite and overflowing mercy of God. And his mercy enables us to be more self-caring and less self-critical.
Today we have an opportunity for some easing into this healing encounter with God. There are Scripture readings. You share intimately. You listen empathically. You are direct and authentic. You tell your story with its high points and low points; with its grace and with its sins.
When I go to confession I look at every area of my life. In fact, if I do not go to confession with some regularity, I miss the spiritual fruits that come with this confessional ritual. I miss the possibility of some internal changes that can help me to be more in tune with the heart of God.
Going to confession brings to me a good feeling of my own basic goodness. Invariably, that is one of the spiritual fruits that come with the sacrament of reconciliation. There is the inner peace and inner equanimity that comes from self- and soul-care.
Going to confession brings a renewed awareness of the presence and activity in my life of a kind and compassionate God. It is a time to soak up the infinite mercy of God. “The confessional is not a torture chamber but the place in which the Lord’s mercy motivates us to do better,” Pope Francis said recently.
Then, as I finish saying my prayers of penance or doing whatever penance was given to me, there is that sense of oneness and closeness to that indwelling we call God. In a sense, I feel purer and I feel closer to a state of grace. I feel unburdened. I feel guilt-free. I feel more worthy of happiness.
Of course, it is existential guilt, along with the grace of God, that brings me to confession. And existential guilt as distinct from neurotic guilt is a kind of internal barometer. Existential guilt is a good guilt. Along with God’s grace, it is what brings me to confession and reduces the possibility that I will make the same mistakes again.
Going to confession with regularity can be very healing. It is so uplifting to hear “your sins are forgiven.”
In view of all the spiritual and emotional benefits of “going to confession,” it is not all that surprising to me that humans across various traditions and cultures have rituals for going to confession.
Weight watchers go to confession all the time. Every week they disclose their dietary indiscretions. They confess to each other. Alcoholics go to their meetings. They confess to their sponsors. They risk the truth about their recidivism and their temptations. They confess their sins.
Drug addicts and love addicts confess to their sponsors. They tell their failings. They tell their faults and flaws. They resolve to do better. They are strengthened in their resolve.
Emotionally distressed patients confess to their psychiatrist or psychologist. They will do it every week. They confess their struggles and their distress. They unload their emotional pain and hurt.
Couples will see the marital therapist. They confess their conflicts. They reveal their difficulties. They promise to do their homework. They practice their newfound skills at home. They look for direction.
Judaism, Anglicanism, Buddhism, Lutheranism and other major religions have rituals for the confession of sin. Their members see the stagnant state of their lives. They want a conversion. They want renewal. They want a new relationship with their God. So they confess their sins.
Catholics have private confession. They confess their sins to a priest. They see their limitations. They want to end the sin. It is a quest for more personal integrity and honesty. It is a quest for change. It is a quest for conversion.
Catholics have a sense of sin. They want a deeper relationship with their forgiving God. They want to end the separation.
Catholics receive absolution. They open their hearts to the comforting and healing words, “I absolve you from your sins, in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.” They wait for a penance. They are resolved to foster new moral behavior.
Catholics experience the “grace” of forgiveness. They embrace the infinite forgiveness of an infinitely loving God. It is very freeing for them to experience the sacrament of reconciliation. It challenges me to “do unto others as I would have them do unto me.”
The sacrament has a transformative power. The sacrament says loud and clear, “Shed the guilt and let go of the past.” It says, “Don’t be overly concerned with self-interest.” It says, “Forgive others and do not hurt them.”It says, “Be self-nurturing and be nurturing of others.” It says, “Be self-supportive and be supportive of others.”
The sacrament of reconciliation says loud and clear, “Your sins are forgiven.” It says, “Serve the greater good.” It says, “Everyday is a new opportunity to begin anew on your spiritual path.” It says, “You can always encounter anew a compassionate God whose love and mercy are washing all over you.”
Msgr. Thomas J. Morgan is a retired pastor.