What Confession is Like
“Gospel of Luke Chapter 15-7 (Bible Illustrations by Sweet Media)” by Distant Shores Media/Sweet Publishing. Licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons
My non-Catholic friends will ask me, “What’s confession like?” Last week, I came across a story that comes pretty darn close to capturing the reality of confession.
Arthur Booth was arrested last Monday and appeared before Judge Mindy Glazer in bond court on Thursday. The Miami-Dade judge recognized Mr. Booth and asked him if he had attended Nautilus Junior High School. Instantly, Booth’s face changes from a smile to immense sorrow. He begins sobbing uncontrollably, pacing, and covering his face in shame, saying, “Oh my goodness, oh my goodness.” Instead of shaming Mr. Booth for his life of crime, Judge Glazer encouraged him.
“I’m sorry to see you there, I always wondered what happened to you sir,” Glazer said, as Booth continued crying. “This was the nicest kid in middle school, he was the best kid in middle school. I used to play football with him, all the kids, and look what has happened.”
“I am so sorry to see you there. Mr. Booth, I hope you are able to change your ways, good luck to you,” she said. “What’s sad is how old we’ve become. Good luck to you sir, I hope you are able to come out of this ok and just lead a lawful life.”
You can see video of the courtroom footage here.
I feel like Arthur Booth every time I go to confession. I think my sin makes me unrecognizable when I come face-to-face with the priest who is standing in persona Christi, as Christ. But I should know better. Christ is my Lord, my Maker. Of course He knows my face and my heart!
Judge Glazer knew Arthur Booth when they were in junior high.
Christ has known about me for all eternity. “I know you. I know the number of hairs on your head. I knit you in your mother’s womb. I know when you sit and when you stand. I know your words before you utter them. Come to Me, and trust in my Love.”
I’m reading Heather King’s Redeemed: Stumbling Toward God, Sanity, and the Peace That Passes All Understanding. I’m a quarter of the way in to this heartbreakingly honest and beautiful account of a woman’s journey from addiction to sobriety and peace in the arms of Mother Church. Heather shares an encounter she had with a tenderhearted Irish priest while on a weekend retreat. After meeting his glance, Heather reflects,
In a way, Christ is just the Person who sees you when you feel like you’re most invisible. In a way, Christ is just the Person who knows what’s in your heart before you do. In a way, I’d come to see later, Christ is just the Person who, when you look around and think you’re crazy, says: Don’t worry, you’re not.
Note: The book has a few questionable theological ideas, but the heart of the book is solid and good food for thought.
Ever since I was a little girl, I have preferred going to confession face-to-face instead of behind the screen. When I look into the priest’s eyes, I feel Christ looking at me with the same sorrow Judge Glazer must have felt for her classmate. He acknowledges my sins, but He reminds me with His loving glance that I have a future full of hope.
Like Mr. Booth, I must humbly receive my penance and fulfill it to make things right to the best of my ability. The severity of my penance and the words of the priest reflect the gravity of my sinfulness. Then, I pray aloud The Act of Contrition, a prayer that always reduces me to a blubbering mess.
O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee, and I detest all my sins, because I dread the loss of heaven, and the pains of hell;
but most of all because I have offended Thee, my God,
Who are all good and deserving of all my love. (Blubber, blubber, blubber.)
I firmly resolve, with the help of Thy grace,
to sin no more and avoid the near occasions of sin. Amen.
Then, the priest says the sweetest words I’ll hear this side of heaven:
God the Father of mercies, through the death and resurrection of your son, you have reconciled the world to yourself and sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins. Through the ministry of the church, may God grant you pardon and peace. And I absolve you of your sins, in the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Absolution doesn’t mean I’m “off the hook” the same way Judge Glazer’s mercy doesn’t mean Mr. Booth won’t have to serve time for his crimes. The confession draws to an end when the priest says the words,
Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good
And I reply,
His mercy endures forever
With that, the priest sends me on my way:
Go in peace!
And I’m off to do my penance.
Just as I leave the confessional with the reminder of God’s enduring mercy and the resolution to “sin no more and avoid the near occasion of sin,” Arthur Booth left the courtroom with Judge Glazer’s mercy and compassion. “Good luck to you sir, I hope you are able to come out of this ok and just lead a lawful life,” and Mr. Booth moves on to do his own penance. God willing, Judge Glazer’s mercy and the reminder of the man he dreamed he would be in junior high will help him to turn his life around just as God’s mercy helps me to avoid the sins that brought me to confession in the first place.
