M
Minion_w_a_drum
Guest
I know I typed this morning on a another thread that I was finished with the catholic church, however… I don’t know what got into me, I guess I must have got caught up in the whole holy ritual and pomp and circumstance of holy week. Our priest, who seems like a really nice guy has been touting a penitential service that was to be held this afternoon at 5 pm. He has been telling of this at every Mass during lent this year and really urging all of us to come. He touted the whole “year of mercy” and all that… Frankly, his actions were quite moving to me and so even though I typed what I type this morning, I put on my Sunday clothes and off to Palm Sunday Mass I went, with every intent to return to the 5pm penitential service. And that is exactly what I did.
I know I’ve been bitter, resentful and cynical of late, but that has not deterred me from regular Mass attendance and from frequenting the confessional. I had the mindset that if I was to get out of my funk and depression I really needed to roll up my shirt sleeves, lace up my boots and put in the work. And it is with this attitude that I went to the penitential service this afternoon.
What I encountered was about 120 people and about 10 priests. We sang a song, our home priest read a reading and then private confessions were heard. I was in absolutely no hurry and so I sat in the pew and listened to the beautiful music on the speakers and watched as people went to confession. We have a large church and many of the 10 priests were within sight of anyone inside the body of the church building. It was frankly a moving experience! I remember thinking maybe I’ll have to rethink this whole “writing off the catholic church” thing after all. I sat and watched (but could not hear) people confessing sins and the priests in true pastoral fashion offering absolution, filled with seemingly mercy and compassion. I was truly touched. It was a beautiful hour wait for me until the lines dwindled down and an open priest slot availed itself to me.
This is where my story takes a turn.
A middle aged priest sat by himself in the alcove of the Blessed Mother, the same alcove in which I light a candle every Sunday. What a perfect situation for a confused, bewildered, slightly angry, much hurt, lifelong catholic man, I thought. I strode confidently to the vacant makeshift confessional and knelt down. I waited for the (seemingly) obligatory sign of the cross. Nothing came. I looked at the priest and he looked back at me with a sort of half bewildered, half perturbed look on his face. It was as if he was silently asking “what the heck are you doing here???” I brushed it off as maybe I just don’t know the personality and mannerisms of this particular priest… But no sign of the cross to start the confession?? I remember thinking to myself, well maybe he does things different in his parish- no big deal, and so I made the sign of the cross, said the bless me father, blah blah blah… and confessed my sins. He said to meditate on one commandment that I broke to help avoid that sin in the future and to pray for strength to avoid all my other sins. He said: “your penance is 1 Our Father, now you may say your Act of Contrition” which I did.
As soon as I was done with the Act of Contrition he said (and this is verbatim) “your sins are forgiven, go in peace.” No God the Father of Mercy prayer, no “I absolve you of your sins” no laying of his hand on me nor a sign of the cross. Nothing… I simply got “your sins are forgiven, go in peace.” No handshake, no thank you for coming in, no have a nice day, enjoy your Easter, no have a wonderful Holy week experience, no kiss my rear end, go jump in a lake. nothing. I got “your sins are forgiven go in peace.”
The whole confession couldn’t have lasted more than a minute to a minute and a half… And this after watching some very moving and beautiful confessions that lasted 10 minutes or more…I knelt there for a couple of seconds, until my confusion started turning to hurt and anger. And much more hurt than anger. I got up and quickly thought I could go kneel in a pew and say my Our Father, but I thought why??? I said to myself, “self, just say it on your way to your car!” As I walked out of the church I passed 2 other priests who had vacant “confessionals” and for a brief moment I thought about kneeling down and confessing again, kind of a “do over” of sorts. But at that point in time I simply could not get out of that building fast enough. I felt shamed. I felt abandoned. I felt ridiculed. And I felt unforgiven. The last place I wanted to be was inside that church.
And so I left. Quickly. I said my Our Father on my way to the car (why I did, who the hell knows?) and I drove home.
God works in mysterious ways. He sends signs. Sometimes they are quite clear. Sometimes they are crystal clear. Sometimes they are undeniable.
This afternoon was one of those times.
I was always taught the “absolution prayer” along with the sign of the cross that is normally said and performed by the priest is an integral part of the confession. Maybe it is maybe it isn’t. I’ve always believed it is. If I’m wrong I’m probably making a mountain out of a mole hill. At any rate, I’m sure priests are encouraged to show some level of compassion in the confessional. It was as cold of an experience as I could’ve received.
I’ve never experienced anything like this afternoon. Ever.
And it came at the worst possible time that it could come.
Goodbye holy church of Rome. You are not a church of the lost and wayward sheep. You are a church of the “in” crowd. And I get it. I don’t belong.
I know I’ve been bitter, resentful and cynical of late, but that has not deterred me from regular Mass attendance and from frequenting the confessional. I had the mindset that if I was to get out of my funk and depression I really needed to roll up my shirt sleeves, lace up my boots and put in the work. And it is with this attitude that I went to the penitential service this afternoon.
What I encountered was about 120 people and about 10 priests. We sang a song, our home priest read a reading and then private confessions were heard. I was in absolutely no hurry and so I sat in the pew and listened to the beautiful music on the speakers and watched as people went to confession. We have a large church and many of the 10 priests were within sight of anyone inside the body of the church building. It was frankly a moving experience! I remember thinking maybe I’ll have to rethink this whole “writing off the catholic church” thing after all. I sat and watched (but could not hear) people confessing sins and the priests in true pastoral fashion offering absolution, filled with seemingly mercy and compassion. I was truly touched. It was a beautiful hour wait for me until the lines dwindled down and an open priest slot availed itself to me.
This is where my story takes a turn.
A middle aged priest sat by himself in the alcove of the Blessed Mother, the same alcove in which I light a candle every Sunday. What a perfect situation for a confused, bewildered, slightly angry, much hurt, lifelong catholic man, I thought. I strode confidently to the vacant makeshift confessional and knelt down. I waited for the (seemingly) obligatory sign of the cross. Nothing came. I looked at the priest and he looked back at me with a sort of half bewildered, half perturbed look on his face. It was as if he was silently asking “what the heck are you doing here???” I brushed it off as maybe I just don’t know the personality and mannerisms of this particular priest… But no sign of the cross to start the confession?? I remember thinking to myself, well maybe he does things different in his parish- no big deal, and so I made the sign of the cross, said the bless me father, blah blah blah… and confessed my sins. He said to meditate on one commandment that I broke to help avoid that sin in the future and to pray for strength to avoid all my other sins. He said: “your penance is 1 Our Father, now you may say your Act of Contrition” which I did.
As soon as I was done with the Act of Contrition he said (and this is verbatim) “your sins are forgiven, go in peace.” No God the Father of Mercy prayer, no “I absolve you of your sins” no laying of his hand on me nor a sign of the cross. Nothing… I simply got “your sins are forgiven, go in peace.” No handshake, no thank you for coming in, no have a nice day, enjoy your Easter, no have a wonderful Holy week experience, no kiss my rear end, go jump in a lake. nothing. I got “your sins are forgiven go in peace.”
The whole confession couldn’t have lasted more than a minute to a minute and a half… And this after watching some very moving and beautiful confessions that lasted 10 minutes or more…I knelt there for a couple of seconds, until my confusion started turning to hurt and anger. And much more hurt than anger. I got up and quickly thought I could go kneel in a pew and say my Our Father, but I thought why??? I said to myself, “self, just say it on your way to your car!” As I walked out of the church I passed 2 other priests who had vacant “confessionals” and for a brief moment I thought about kneeling down and confessing again, kind of a “do over” of sorts. But at that point in time I simply could not get out of that building fast enough. I felt shamed. I felt abandoned. I felt ridiculed. And I felt unforgiven. The last place I wanted to be was inside that church.
And so I left. Quickly. I said my Our Father on my way to the car (why I did, who the hell knows?) and I drove home.
God works in mysterious ways. He sends signs. Sometimes they are quite clear. Sometimes they are crystal clear. Sometimes they are undeniable.
This afternoon was one of those times.
I was always taught the “absolution prayer” along with the sign of the cross that is normally said and performed by the priest is an integral part of the confession. Maybe it is maybe it isn’t. I’ve always believed it is. If I’m wrong I’m probably making a mountain out of a mole hill. At any rate, I’m sure priests are encouraged to show some level of compassion in the confessional. It was as cold of an experience as I could’ve received.
I’ve never experienced anything like this afternoon. Ever.
And it came at the worst possible time that it could come.
Goodbye holy church of Rome. You are not a church of the lost and wayward sheep. You are a church of the “in” crowd. And I get it. I don’t belong.
BTDT, so I can suggest from experience that the Chirch’s ways do work!
and the purpose of other members of the Church is to build each other up.