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Cuddles57
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Tonight, I went to weekly confession, as I am want to do, and love every confession. I go to a regular confessor, a young priest whom I gravitated to for his use of confession and advice...etc. Anyway, I’m rambling.
So, I’m waiting in line with my mom, who wanted to tag along, and my infant neice, who babbled the whole time and whom I named my profile after. There were plenty of people in the pews with us, some looked new to the church, picked up the newly penitental pamphlets. So, the priest arrives and I’m second, do a little praying and reflecting on some minor sins, nothing truely grave. (I’m a little scrupulous/OCD diagnosed), anyway.
My time comes and I walk in and sit before Father, as I always do since I warmed up to him, and began the Sacrament with the words: “Remind me, Father, to contact the Arch-Bishop to ask him to give you a raise just for having to deal with me.” I quip about myself and he replies,
“Oh, it’s always wonderful when someone calls the Arch-Bishop on me.” He jokes, with a smile. He’s playing or holding a crucifix and looking at the corpus with anxiety and nervousness I noted. So, He begins the Sacrament and I confess. It was minor, nothing horrific or mind numbingly offensive to our Blessed Lord, but all the same a sin.
“Those are my sins, Father, and I’m sorry for them all.”
You should have seen this man’s face. I wish I had a camera. He then proceeded to laugh so hard I thought he was going near hysterics. Which, in turn causes me to laugh because, let’s be honest, I’m a giggly man.
He is clutching the crucifix and his chest and says, “That wasn’t so bad! I thought you were going to lay something horrible on me!”
(This was the second time I made this poor man go into hysterics in the confessional. Which to be honest, makes me happy because, *In Persona Christi* by transitive property, I’ve made Jesus laugh and I think that’s tremendous.)
The Sacrament ends with a wonderful prayer and I get up. “Don’t worry father, we’ll get you that pay raise after all.”
“Here’s hoping! Let’s hope the Arch-Bishop waves that one!”
So, I walk out to find all eyes on me.
Apparently, everyone heard, in the dead silence of a church in the evening, in a confessional, the raucous laughter of a priest and penitent sharing a small moment together. I was told by my mom, Father was still smiling after I left.
