"What a Beautiful Confession"

This might seem lacking in the area of humility, but if there's one thing I know I'm good at, it's going to confession. I'm rather an expert at it, actually. Why? Cuz I'm a sinner and I know it, thank heavens.

I don't know what your confessions look like typically, but if you have ever experienced hurt in the confessional due to something a priest has said, this post is for you. I'm not talking about when a priest gives you solid advice to change your behavior and your pride is hurt. I'm talking about when you go in to receive counsel and forgiveness and leave feeling misunderstood, confused or hurt. I'm talking about the cross that affects some of us more than others in utilizing the confessional. The cross of confessing adding to our burden rather than relieving it.

I guess I go to confession pretty frequently. I try to go at least once a week, more often than that if I can. Like I said, I'm an expert at the confessional because I'm a sinner. But I also dread going to confession, sadly with good reason.

I've had priests chide me for how frequently I go. I've been flat out told after confessing that nothing I said was a sin and had it hinted I intentionally chose to waste the priest's time. I've been denied penance. I've been cut off mid-confession and told to hurry up. I've been told not to come back until I had "real sins" to confess. I've finished confessing, only to have the priest begin counselling me as if he hadn't listened to a word I said. I've walked out of confession feeling more lost than when I entered more times than I can count.

I've been tempted to stop going, time and again. But I've stuck with it in hopes it would get better one day and last night, my faithfulness was rewarded.

God saw that deep wound in me and allowed the healing process to begin.

I went to confession before Wednesday night Mass; the line wasn't long but people were taking their time so I had plenty of time to thoroughly examine my conscience and pray for the grace to make a good confession.

I (finally!) got in the confessional and briefly considered generically listing my sins and booking it out of there; I heard the Holy Spirit prompting me to be brave so I took a deep breath and started properly, Bless me Father, for I have sinned; I am single, it has been a week since my last confession and since then I accuse myself of...

The priest on the other side of the screen was so silent when I finished, it was agony to hear his intake of breath before speaking. What he said blew me away.

"What a beautiful confession."

I was stunned. My breath caught in my throat; I started crying and found myself unable to stop. Nothing in my 25 years as a Catholic had prepared me for those words, spoken in that moment, in a tone of awe and wonder. Never in my life have I recieved positive reinforcement like that in the confessional. Those four words tore open the deep wound in me caused by the hurt of previous confessions; God poured His love into that wound through the voice of that priest, to begin healing me. Grace entered my soul when the priest spoke those words to me, grace upon grace.

This is the paradox that is God. That He would come into the world born of a virgin mother. That He would be both God and man. That the first person He would recieve into heaven would be the last person invited to dinner by everyone else. That He would use a confessional to heal my wound caused by confession.

I don't know where you're at in your faith. I don't know how you've been hurt by the church. I want to tell you that hurt you experienced is not okay. The anger or sense of loss you feel as a result of that hurt is okay. The person who caused it is human, fallible and imperfect. They are not Christ and they do not speak for all of us. They do not speak for me.

I know this particular example isn't as drastic as other ones that are clogging up your newsfeed. I've kept quiet about it because it went against every fiber of my being to speak out against a priest(s). And we see where that has gotten us as a church. I will be silent no more. I am determined that the suffering of others will no longer be sanctioned by my silent acquiescence. I think we are all done with the illusion of perfection that is built on the silence and shame of innocent victims. I know I certainly am.

I want you to know if you are reading this that I will believe you, should you choose to tell me the story of how the Catholic Church has hurt you. I can't change it. I can't fix it. I can't undo it. Hell, telling me probably won't make you feel any better at all. I can't stop your tears but I can hold you while you cry.

Pax Vobis.