Age of Reason

Several days ago I posted a story that I think made national headlines. I know that a week ago Monday it hit every local NEWS station's site, and that Wednesday, there was FINALLY video of this, probably because of the utter hilarity of the crime of goat rustling and WHO committed it, while wearing...PAJAMAS.
I love this story but not just because it's, well...hilarious....but because it reveals so much about the intelligence and awareness of children. That intelligence and more importantly, AWARENESS, is exactly why Pope St. Pius X allowed children of "the age of reason",  usually figured to be about age 7, to receive Holy Communion, and therefore, the Sacrament of Confession.

Why? Because at that age, children can discern the Body and Blood. They are aware of Sin, of what that means, how it separates them from God, and they are most importantly aware of the fact that He gives Himself to them, in pure innocence, at the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass.

No, they don't understand all the reasoning of 4,000 years or more of Judeo-Christian philosophy and theology, but they sure do know what is required to steal a goat and they know enough to try to hide their crime by lying about what they did.

Even more importantly, they sure do know that stealing a goat is WRONG or they wouldn't have, at the age of 5 and 7, escaped their home with a very viable plan, with a leash, walked a mile or so to a farm, liberated a goat, leashed it, and walked it home, then lied to the police officer who confronted them.

Should Children Receive the Sacrament of Confession?

In my parish work, I have become aware of a number of local parishes that do not offer First Reconciliation before First Holy Communion.  Their reasoning:  children can't possibly commit mortal sin. Children don't understand sin and their "sins" aren't really sins because children don't understand what is wrong and why.

Hmmm...there's so much wrong with this, and yes, I'm going to talk about it, but first, let me tell you a little story.

Oh, the webs we weave, when first we practice to deceive....

When I was about 4 years old, I spent the morning in our little country neighborhood playing with my friends down the road. When it was time, I went home for lunch, having made solid plans to return to my friend's house to continue playing the afternoon away.

To my surprise and horror, Mom told me that no; I wouldn't be going out to play. I would be taking a nap.  Of course I thew a fit becuase I was both wide awake and wanted to PLAY! Well, of course, me being 4 and Mom being Mom, she won that argument and sent me to my room, but you see, there's a bit more to this story...

As I sulkily ate my lunch, punishing Mom with my pouting silence, I came up with a plan to make Mom THINK I was napping, but I was REALLY going to go play with my friends. I was going to choose adventure and fun over obedience.

When I finished lunch, I (apparently) obediently went to my room, found one of my dolls, and placed her in my bed. You see, Mom always commented on that particular doll and how much her hair resembled mine. And I ALWAYS slept with covers over my head, even on hot summer days like that particular one, so it wasn't odd for me to cover my head but still leave a bit of hair poked out. I knew Mom would "check in" on me during my "nap", so I made sure to rustle the bedcovering a little. I think I even changed my shoes so she'd see a pair by my bed as though I'd kicked them off before climbing in.

Quickly, I opened my bedroom window, opened the screen (something my brother had recently shown me how to do), made sure there were no spiders as that was the ONLY thing that would keep me inside, and seeing that the coast was clear, I climbed out, closed the screen behind me, leaving it cracked just enough so I could open it again when I got back, and snuck around the house remaining below the windows to avoid being seen.

I spent a few hours with my friends, blissfully playing, but unfortunately, we got into a fight. I ended up stomping home, steaming mad, and because I was so angry, I completely forgot about my plan of escape and return. As such I burst through the front door, stood in the kitchen, hands on my hips and announced that I was NEVER going to play with D. and J. EVER AGAIN!

I can still see my Mom standing in the kitchen, wiping her hands off on a dishtowel, staring at me in shock and growing anger.

"I thought you were taking a nap!"

Uh oh!   I can still remember the sense of horror that I had just exposed my very big lie.

I actually tried to race to my room ahead of Mom to erase the evidence, but predictably, she beat me to it, tore back the covers and exposed the deception and disobedience.

That was the first time I was ever grounded.  I was four years old.

Let's Break This Down

I know that some of you reading this will first question my age - four years old, running around the neighborhood?  Yup, that's right, and no exaggeration. I'd been free to run around at about the age of 3, within limits. Our home was surrounded by retired couples and stay at home moms who knew all of us and where we were allowed to go and when. My friends lived the equivalent of a block from my house and we all knew to watch for traffic on the gravel that only served our immediate homes.  Besides, times were very different then and there wasn't a lot of crime in our sleeply little town, and certainly not in our immediate neighborhood.

So, that objection handled, let's talk about a child's ability to reason.

1. I knew that I was disobeying my mother, and willfully so. Proof:  I hid my crime and deliberately pretended to obey by going to take my "nap" without argument once Mom refused to give in. (Premeditation)

2. I went to great lengths to plan how to hide my disobedience, to include the return trip of climbing back in the window.  (Deliberation)

3. I knew that if Mom discovered my deception, I'd be in BIG BIG trouble, but I did it anyway. (full knowledge that what I was doing wrong, consent to do it anyway)

What are the three elements of mortal sin?  According to paragraph 1857 of the Catechism of the Catholic Church, a mortal sin must be an objectively grave matter, committed with full knowledge and consent.

Now, I will not say that my sin that day (or rather, slippery slope of many sins) was mortal, for the simple act of disobedience, no matter how complexly I went about it, is not normally a "grave matter", especially for a four year old. However, I would argue that it was sufficiently grave especially considering my age, the danger I could have been in, and the fact that one intent to disobey led to a whole host of other sins, including the fight with my friends which ultimately ended our friendship. (That's a long story and I don't want to tattle!)

Can children commit mortal sin? Yes, I would argue that they can. Usually, though, the fact they don't have sufficient knowledge and certainly can't reason through the consequence of their actions even if they can reason the concrete "how" to commit them, prevents them from meeting the definition of "mortal sin".

Always, though, when I speak with someone who advocates a more mature age for First Confession, if they argue on the grounds that "children aren't capable of mortal sin", I query, "Why would you wait to teach them about right, wrong, and sin when they ARE capable of doing something that grave?"  Seriously...wouldn't that be like closing the barn door when the horses have already escaped?

For some reason, some adults of a certain age have no problem telling their children about right and wrong and even mete out punishments and corrections as they grow, but when it comes to Confession, they balk and say, "Oh, my kids can't really sin." 

Except they do, all the time, and they are AWARE of it - but they need US to teach them what sin is and how that affects their relationship with God...and with others. How are they ever to learn about consequences if consequences aren't taught? Children know how to choose what is right, and they do THAT all the time, too, and understand that if they obey here, there are good consequences that follow, and that reinforces their good behavior. That's even basic psychology!

Confession, though, also teaches children how to identify their sins, how to correct them, and learn the consequences, not just in this life, but for the next.

And you know what? Children really really love Jesus a great deal, and they want to please Him, they want to be right with Him, and that want that deep, personal relationship with Him.

Still, there's one other thing we can't miss when talking about the Sacraments:  Grace.

Not only do children need to learn how to identify sin and take responsibility for it, but they need that final revelation that SINS CAN BE FORGIVEN! Remember:  God never reveals sin without revealing His Mercy.

Children can learn that, and not just learn it, but EXPERIENCE it, and then, in the Sacrament of Confession, receive the Grace to be strengthened against temptation, to be guided in learning to live in Christ. They can be placed on the path to Sainthood and perhaps, learn to never commit a mortal sin!

Dare we hope for such Grace? And why not? God freely OFFERS it!

Certainly, people can argue all day long about whether or not children can commit mortal sin, but when it comes to the mysterious workings of God's Grace in the soul, that's where the argument ends.

Why would we ever want to risk a child's eternal soul by denying them the Grace of the Sacrament of Reconciliation, especially, and properly, before they receive Our Lord's Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity in their First Holy Communion?



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Delicate Souls

"God never reveals sin without revealing His Mercy."

I don't recall who said it; my professor a few years ago in talking about one of John Paul II's writings, or maybe John Paul II himself. So I guess I can't give proper credit for the quote, but the message is loud and clear. It's been revealed to be true in my own life, and sometimes, by God's grace, I get to be a part of it for someone else. I hope.

Part of my parish work is sacramental preparation. If parents miss the informational meetings, they have to meet with me to get that information, and I always find those meetings to be fruitful, often for different reasons. Sometimes it's because the parent isn't Catholic but wants to be faithful to what WE believe, and wants to understand that belief so they can teach it with integrity. (I find these parents to be heroic, and pray that they will enter the Church through what they are teaching to their children. The Holy Spirit is with them.)

Sometimes, though, it's fruitful because the person is struggling with something, maybe has questions about the Faith, maybe is trying to come back...and doesn't know how. Something.

This week, it was my privilege to meet with such a person. I am grateful to God for that.

At some point in the afternoon I was inspired to go into the Church and pray for this meeting, so I did.

I expected it to be fairly routine. A nice woman, with whom I have spoken before, both on the phone and in person. I figured I would move quickly through the information, skipping over some things, reading her for her receptivity to the message and tailoring what had to be said.

As it was, we connected in a way I didn't expect, and hadn't "read".

When I speak to people about the Sacraments, especially Confession, I give a part of my own personal conversion story, and for a couple reasons: firstly so that they will realize that I am just like everyone else. Secondly, because so many people have been poorly catechized about this Sacrament, or, like me have fallen away, that they only come back because of their children. But they don't go themselves because they don't know why they should!

In talks to a group, I keep things general. In smaller meetings, though, I may get more specific.

In this particular meeting, although it didn't go as I planned, God's hand guided it. As I told her about how, when I was "away" I'd felt like a "fraud" whenever I rarely went to Mass, and thought everyone else could see through me, this person confessed she is "there" right now.

She feels disconnected, yet...still connected. She wants more, but can't seem to get to Mass as often as she desires. She admits some of this is her own fault and said outright she knew it was a sin.

It lead into a conversation about mortal sin, and the fact that missing Mass, intentionally, is a Mortal Sin.

Before I said the words that needed to be said, I prayed.

In fact, as soon as I realized she was struggling, I began asking the Holy Spirit for help with a delicate soul.

After some discussion, she said that she HADN'T known the full teaching on this, the depth of sin, but that she probably learned it in the past and that fact probably made her more culpable.

But she said something else, something ALL of us need to hear, to read, to take to heart:

"I have family members who are really really Catholic, really Traditional. If I tell them I don't go every week, they make me feel like a bad person. It makes me not WANT to go, because, if going means I'm like them, I don't WANT to be like that or with them."

Ouch.

I've paraphrased a bit as I don't remember the exact words. But we've all seen it, maybe we've been part of it. A family member, a friend, admits they haven't been a "good Catholic" because they don't go to Mass or have some other favorite sin; how do we react?

Instead of hearing what they are REALLY trying to say, we tend to beat them over the head with the Bible and the Catechism and remind them of their Baptismal responsiblities.

As this woman said, this makes her feel like a "bad person", like she is being "judged", and it scares her away. If she started out desiring to attend Mass, she leaves the discussion thinking that if everyone is like THAT...and it's not worth it.

I knew during our discussion I'd have to deliver a hard message, but I didn't want her to be chased away by the Truth that was unsuccessfully delivered by people around her. What I heard was that she was looking for someone to understand her, to hear her problems, and most importantly, her DESIRE to attend Mass every week. She WANTED to be there, but was STRUGGLING HARD with getting there, with apathy, with deciding to do other things, often related to her very young children.

Like many parents, she has been chased out of Mass by crabby grumps who can't seem to tolerate the joyful voice of a chatty toddler who can't seem to maintain silence during Mass. She, like so many others, has been shamed away and feels like she CAN'T come back until her children are old.

Aside:

I say "SHAME" to the grumps chasing parents of young children away from Mass! Keep your evil eye to yourself, refrain from Holy Communion and go to Confession to ask for forgiveness for all the parents you've chased out of Mass by your holier-than-thou-silence-your-children-with-duct-tape-so-I-can-have-perfect-silence attitude! May you all have perfect hearing so that you will NEVER stop hearing the cries of children EVERYWHERE you go, ESPECIALLY at Mass where they belong! They're a heck of a lot holier than YOU are, so if ANYONE needs to leave when they are crying, or chatty, it's probably YOU!

OK, < /rant> back to the topic:

As we spoke, I did deliver the moral teachings pertinent to our discussion, along with the message that the teaching didn't come with "judgment", as I am a sinner, too, and every day find myself in need of God's Mercy. Every moment. I let her know that indeed, it is my job to present her with the teaching, I understood her position and wanted to help her, and I've been there, too, if in a different way.

Then she confessed she hasn't been to confession in years and years. I don't know how many...but a long time.

I was actually planning to skip over it, but our conversation lead into it; I knew I had to tell her my story.

I told her the story of my "Big Confession."

A few years ago, I couldn't even THINK of that confession without crying. But now I've told it so many times that I can do so completely dry-eyed. Until this particular meeting, that is. As I explained to her my struggle to get there and finally that moment of Absolution and Mercy, I actually teared up. It wasn't a slight tearing I could just hide with a pause or forcing myself to move on, but tears actually SPILLED from my eyes.

I apologized, explained that didn't normally happen and told her that THIS is the most powerful testimony I had of God's mercy; that particular experience. And I told her I'm grateful for it.

She actually teared up, too, so we looked at each other, red-eyed in understanding. I asked her if she was nervous, given that she really DID plan to go soon. She admitted she was. We spoke of the Saints, of Divine Mercy, and I told her that I knew what it was like to be there, so I would pray for her and if she had any questions, at all, she could call me.

Take This to Heart!

This was an important meeting. Yes, a soul is coming back, and I ask you ALL to pray for her, and anyone struggling with the same issues. She WANTS to come back, is aware of sin, doesn't deny it, and really, is a soul in a state of suspended conversion.

Suspended WHY?

By her own testimony she has many good, practicing Catholics around her.

What I find disturbing is that she identifies them as "Traditional" and with the term "Traditional", she also links, some spoken, some unspoken but by context, "Merciless, Condemning, Judgmental."

Do any of US match those words? When we deal with our family members and friends who have fallen away, can we be linked in the same way?

The fact is, of course, that for some people, ANY declaration of absolute Truth, no matter how gently, of authentic Church teaching means we would be called all sorts of names and accused of all sorts of things. I'm not speaking of those rabid souls that are fleeing conversion.

I am speaking here of delicate souls desiring God, desiring to do better, but stuck, somehow, looking for someone, anyone, to hear them, to reach out to them, and help bring them in.

If someone reaches out in their crisis of Faith, having fallen away, as if out of the boat, do we hit them with the deadly aim of the anchor or do we throw them a life ring and help them swim in?

What she was experiencing was the deadly strike of anchor, and I'd argue that those who threw the anchor at her were sending out a weighty boomerang that is likely to cost them a great deal in their own final judgment.

We are indeed called to fraternal correction, and those of us who are in positions of authority, to speak for the Church, are in a special place. HOW that message is delivered is important. It makes a difference to the soul in question; are they being frightened away in a delicate state, or are they being encouraged in God's Grace, in the conversion they desire but can't seem to find?

I pray that I said the right things to this woman, and offered a life ring. I pray that she didn't leave feeling "judged" but rather, in solidarity with another struggling sinner.

Please pray for those who are seeking conversion and who are struggling to live the Faith they desire to live, in all its fullness.

We, the faithful, are ALL charged as keepers of our brothers and sisters, so we must ALL remember to speak in charity, to listen, and to guide in the seeking souls. There are those who are obstinant in their sin and reject Our Lord, and there are those who accept the teachings but are struggling to live them. Each require a different treatment. Are we willing to put our own pride aside so that we can reach out in charity and provide, in love, for the needs of the souls that come our way?

Giving Up

So often, I'm amazed at the pain people are carrying around. If we were to look around at Mass on any given day, and see people as God does, we'd be brought to our knees in tears on behalf of the suffering around us. We wouldn't be able to stop ourselves from reaching out to others, wanting to offer comfort, a bandage, a kind word...anything. Anything to relieve their pain.

And some would reject us, hiding their wounds. Others would finally rest, grateful to be noticed. Others would move away and point towards someone more wounded. And some would be crying out in agony, begging for help...and they have been, for years. But no one has been listening.

On any given day, I am one of those people. We all are.

And the ONLY one listening is God; He is the one one who recognizes us in the disfigurement of sin.

I look at the crucifix, and in seeing Christ, I'm amazed at His sacrifice; He was so moved by our pitiful condition that He became one of us, revealing the depths of His love in the most brutal kind of suffering and death known to mankind.

I still don't understand how God can love me that much. I can't see how I'd possibly be worthy of that kind of love. How could ANYONE sacrifice themselves for....me? In all honesty...WHY? I have no redeeming qualities. Or maybe more properly, no qualities worth redeeming. Love? What is that?

But in looking at the cross...I see love. And once I've seen it, I can't unsee it. I can't look away from the gaze of Christ, who bleeds for me, suffering in His compassion.

During my conversion, I began praying, "God, please don't give up on me...I'm trying...I'm really trying!" And I'd break down in tears, terrified of losing the salvation for which I hadn't even grasped. Even after I'd returned to my faith, I continued to pray that God would not give up on me. I'd kneel before Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament, and utter that very same prayer.

A few years ago, on the Feast of All Saints, Father gave a splendid homily, but it was one particular point that got my attention. It was as though he'd been reading my journal, although, of course he hadn't. He happened to look in the direction in which I was sitting, and, glancing up from his notes, he said, "God will NEVER give up on you!"

From that point on, I couldn't stop crying. He repeated that phrase several times, and it was almost an affirmation of the prayer I'd emitted for so many years...a repetition that God would never give up on me to correspond to the number of years I'd made that request in those exact words. Heaven echoing back through the words of my Pastor. And it was clear...he meant every word he said.

I've even heard those words in Confession, even though I've never confessed that prayer.

To this day, I STILL beg Our Lord never to give up on me. Even though I have converted, I still can't fully trust that He won't abandon me. Yes, intellectually I know Jesus is there and will never go away, will never reject me. But because I so often reject Jesus, because I let go of His hand, when I've lost sight of Him through my own fault I cry out and beg He won't leave me alone. I'm still that little child seeking independence, wandering too far away and screaming because I can't find my way back on my own.

Now, when I pray that prayer, I do so with a greater confidence, a reminder to myself that God WON'T ever give up; for every time I fear He will give up on me, He reminds me to place my trust in Him...and not to give up on myself. I have intellect and will; it is I who is fickle and abuses those gifts. God is constant. He is stalwart. He won't move. He calls...I respond. And if I don't respond, He comes looking for me and offers His hand.

I look up from whatever shiny sin has gotten my attention, and am brought to contrition through His wounds. When I reach out and take His hand, blood pours out of his wounds, covering me. I wince and look up at Jesus, but He simply closes His hand over mine and pulls me to His side. Reconciled.

Am I really sorry? Yes. But it isn't long before the shiny bauble once again distracts me and I pull away from Our Lord...and He lets me go. Like any parent. And when it's time, He comes after me again, ever patient. He'll never give up.

He'll never give up. Even if I give up...He won't.

General Absolution = FORBIDDEN!

Fr. Hulk (Now Fr. Cranky)has another great post up today, this time about Communal Penance services, wherin he defines the different forms.

I'm going to skip to his main point (bolded sections are my emphasis):

The United States recognizes three forms of the process, two of which are allowed, and one which is forbidden except in extreme emergency (civil war, nuclear war, Wrath-of-God type natural disaster when bodies are stacked like cord-wood and there seems no hope for any of us and we want to get right with God before we see Him face-to-face).

Form three is forbidden in the United States except under the conditions listed above. Of course, therefore, this is a common use in the U.S. It is where everyone gathers, listens to some long-winded homily about the eco-sins we have committed against our mother Gaia/Earth and our social sins by not voting for homosexual marriage, and then we all think really haaaaard, and really sorrrrry for our sins, the priest flaps around like a chicken, and presto-chango our sins are gone. We skip happily home having put out no effort other than to drive there and back and feel really good about ourselves. Murder, adultery, abortion, all forgiven with no fuss and no muss. Except for the fact that this type of service is forbidden. Little catch there we don't like to recognize. (I really like typing forbidden in italics!)

So what caused the priest to take it upon himself to offer such illicit activities? Maybe people actually showed up to acknowledge their sins and ask for forgiveness. That's a shocker than can rock Fr. Progressive ('scuse me, just call me Proggy) right back on his heels. Despite his best efforts for years and years to convince people there is no such thing as a real sin, some of they cling to their guns and God (sound familiar) and still think they need forgiving. A real turnout can panic Proggy because he didn't schedule enough priests to be there, and he might have to actually hear confessions completely through the time when Desperate Housewives is showing. Quelle horror! So you think, Proggy flaps, and we all get what we want.

Here's a little thought. What about confessions offered during times when folks actually show up, as well as having a Saturday afternoon/appointment schedule? Oh let's say before and after every Mass? Or if multiple priests are in a parish, it is permissible to offer confessions during Mass itself. Oh, I know the liturgists cringe at such a thought, but if folks are there, and they are sorry, we can offer the opportunity. It does mean extra work though for the priest. He may not get to rush off to breakfast or lunch with the well-heeled parishioners, or dash back up to the rectory for a scotch and soda right away.

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AMEN! AMEN! AMEN!

While so many of us are clinging to our guns and our God and recognizing up and down that we NEED individual absolution, that Christ ESTABLISHED the Sacrament that way, there are STILL badly-formed priests out there who find every flimsy excuse in the world to keep people from receiving the mercy of Christ HIMSELF!

I know of a few parishes in our Archdiocese that, at least until last year, were offering this illicit, nay...FORBIDDEN form of the sacrament, in spite of the fact that several successive Bishops have notified them of that fact. (Apparently their vows of obedience to the Bishop weren't considered very important, either....)

And I'll stop there, because I'm going down the bad road to criticizing priests. I'll not name any names or any parishes in order to protect the guilty; for as I've read, it is for God alone to deal with disobedient priests. It is OUR place to pray for them. We can recognize that they are doing something wrong, and we can certainly speak out, write the Bishop, etc., but we can never attack a priest.

Suffice to say, at this point, that it saddens me that people are being lead to believe first that it's just fine and dandy to be disobedient, and secondly, that Jesus didn't have to be taken seriously when He gave the example of personal forgiveness.

Seriously. Search scripture. Just try to find ONE example where Jesus gave "general absolution" to a crowd of people. Where He said "your sins are forgiven, go and sin no more" to an entire group.

It's not in there. In EVERY case, the forgiveness and mercy of Jesus Christ arose out of a PROFOUND PERSONAL ENCOUNTER with Our Lord, and THAT is what He intended when He gave the Apostles (Jn 20:21) the authority to forgive sin in His name.

I, for one, am profoundly grateful for this Sacrament. And I've made difficult confessions, my twelve-year one having even been made face-to-face at a (Form 2) Communal service. It was turning point in my life, it was amazing to realize that in spite of the mess that I was, I was FORGIVEN!

Had I gone to a General Absolution service, I would have left knowing that I wasn't really forgiven because it wasn't personal and there was no emergency.

The only thing Fr. Hulk left out of his post was this: Those who receive General Absolution in an emergency, if they survive that emergency, they remain OBLIGATED to confess any mortal sins...such as adultery, pornography, abortion, murder, sacrilege, etc.

And this is not a punitive thing! It is an expression of the Mercy of God, who knows that if we have committed such sins, we don't just need forgiveness, but we need healing. It is a pastoral concern. There are a lot of wounded people out there who need something more than a magick wand waved over them. They need a personal encounter with Christ, and if they are being denied, they cannot experience true conversion. They cannot fully live up to who they are called to be.

It saddens me so much that disobedient priests cause so much damage to so many people. Pray for them, and pray for all those who have been cut off from God's Mercy, in hopes that they will finally go to Christ's ministers for the healing and forgiveness they desperately need.
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NOTE: Link has been updated as Father's blog has moved.

Gangrene

Several years ago, I was going through EMT training and had to do clinicals at a local trauma hospital. This was a part of my firefighter training program, so that very same night one of my classmates was doing his required ambulance ride-along. They brought in a man whom they believed was suffering from gangrene.

My classmate described to us the smell in the home. They were a family of immigrants, and he simply could not understand why this man wasn't taken in to the doctor sooner...the scent of putrefaction was overpowering. How did they live with it?

But they couldn't get answers to these questions...the man and most of his family spoke Spanish only. So for the time being, he was alone, waiting for a nurse. So we, the EMT students, were called into action. And as I was the lone Spanish-speaker, I was sent into the examining room to the very sweaty, very feverish-looking-putrid-smelling man.

My classmates waited at the door as I introduced myself to the man and asked permission to take his vitals.

When I addressed him in Spanish, immediately his eyes lit up, and he smiled through his obvious misery. It didn't matter to him that I was only an EMT student and that my Spanish wasn't up to par. He was happy to speak to me.

I'll admit it was hard to be in that tiny room with him and not wrinkle my nose or show obvious distress over the smell emanating from his suppurating wound. He allowed us all to see it, and, upon the prompting of our preceptor, I asked him how that had happened.

I'm not sure of the age of the man; maybe in his 50's or 60's. He wasn't a large person, was quite wiry-looking, but clearly weakened in his state. He'd spent much of his life in the sun of Mexico, working in fields, and his skin told that tale very clearly. But it wasn't obvious why, high up on his upper thigh, he had a wound such as something I'd never seen, surrounded by green and darkened flesh.

He explained that in Mexico, he worked in the fields, and overhead, planes would fly over to cover the fields in pesticides. The man had a truck he used to drive all over the farm, and the spray from the plane would be all over the seat. At one point, he had gotten a wound on his leg; nothing major, nothing to worry about. Just a sore that came from constant contact with the poison. But it got infected since it was in perpetual exposure to the pesticides. He tried to keep it clean and dry, but through his everyday work, it just continued getting worse. Somewhere in there he moved to the United States to join his family, but by then the infection was already spreading. It was growing worse and worse by the day. His family tried to care for him, but they, and he, finally had to admit that it was too much. Even being away from the source of his infection wasn't enough.

Gangrene is nasty; it's an infection beyond infection. It never starts at putrefaction; gangrene takes time to set in. It always begins from something small, but once it gets that bad, there's no turning back; intervention is needed to save that person's life, or they will go into septic shock.

That's where my patient was that night; experiencing septic shock. He would have died had he not been brought into the trauma center, and as it was, his life was in danger.

And there was no doubt that he was going to lose his entire leg, maybe part of his hip, in order to save his life.

Amazing how our physical condition mirrors the interior life.

Mortal sin is nothing different than spiritual gangrene. Mortal sin is death, it is complete separation from God. Violent separation from God.

We never just "fall" into mortal sin; it starts somewhere. Maybe with something seemingly small. Some little sin. But that little sin, even if recognized but not properly attended, can get worse, especially if we don't remove ourselves from the occasion that inspired it.

And then, even as all those little sins are progressing, we rationalize them away, and suggest that they are fine, it'll get better, we can just spray a little Bactine and in a few days there won't even be a mark.

But the Bactine doesn't work, because we're still walking around in poison, and ignoring the obvious infection. And even as it's getting worse and starting to smell, and red lines are running away from the wound, and bacteria is being carried around and spread elsewhere, we still delay, thinking that really, we're fine. This will heal on its own, with our measly apathetic "efforts."

Obstinance.

And by then, it's so bad that we're ashamed of ourselves, we can't hide the wound, although we try and we even try to fool ourselves into thinking that no one will notice. So instead of going in and admitting we need a bandaid, now we've got this huge, gaping, pus-filled wound and we're so terrified that we can't even bring ourselves to show it to the Divine Physician. Even though He knows all about it.

We sometimes have to hit the ground, dying from septic shock, before we will drag ourselves in to Confession and ask for help.

Everyone around us knows about it. But sometimes even they ignore it, because they are afraid to hurt our feelings if they tell us how badly our wounds smell, and they're even willing to clean up the mess made by the oozing pus. We're all dying from the well-intentioned political-correctness of our neighbors.

That isn't love.

That's our souls, people, when we commit mortal sin. It goes from being maybe a little stained, to a little more stained, to complete degradation, gangrenous, oozing pus-filled decomposition.

For those who have seen gangrene...imagine that. If you've committed mortal sin, that's what your soul looks like. That's what you smell like.

But there's a difference between the medical treatment for gangrene and the spiritual treatment: in the medical world, it involves major surgery, maybe amputation of a limb that has been lost. The physical being of the person will never be the same. They will lose something they always took for granted.

The spiritual treatment is God's Mercy. He knows all of our suppurating, festering wounds, and when we go to Confession and reveal that wound willingly, He separates us from it even MORE cleanly than does a surgeon, but with an even bigger difference: we lose nothing, and gain everything.

We do not lose limbs by going to Christ with our gangrenous souls: instead, He restores our lives and makes us better than we were before. He gives us grace, He heals us, He welcomes us back into His Own Body.

If we only have the courage to go to Jesus in the Sacrament of Confession, uncover the wound He knows is there, and ask for forgiveness. It's quick, it's painless, and it leads to eternal life.

What are we waiting for?

What are YOU waiting for? Jesus awaits.
*
From Vespers:

Psalm-Prayer

You desired, Lord, to keep from us your indignation and so did not spare Jesus Christ, who was wounded for our sins. We are your prodigal children, but confessing our sins we come back to you. Embrace us that we may rejoice in your mercy together with Christ your beloved Son.

*

A Soul is like a Car Wreck

Sometimes God gives us a glimpse of His Mercy in unexpected ways.

About a year or so ago, when I worked as an Insurance Investigator, I was handling a claim that was very fishy. It was a stolen vehicle claim, the car was really a mess, and was at the shop, waiting for us to complete our investigation. However, I knew the customer was lying and that the car WASN'T stolen. It had a security system that had not been defeated, and his story as to how a thief had allegedly gotten his keys simply didn't ring true. The location of the car made no sense...unless the owner himself had been driving it at the time of the accident.

When I took his statement, I even confronted him and asked him directly, "Are you sure that you weren't just drunk, crashed your car, and fled the scene?"

He denied it. And yet...I knew he was lying. So the investigation dragged on as I continued to interview his witnesses, obtain reports, etc.

Finally it came down to the wire. If he didn't come clean with me, I was going to have to take the claim to a conference call with the big heads and legal, and obtain permission to deny the claim: the car wasn't stolen. It was time to have what we in the biz call the "Come to Jesus" speech.

"Come to Jesus"

It was a long conversation. And over the years, in fact, I'd gotten rather good at these types of dialogues. There are two keys to this: 1. you first have to convince the other party that you do indeed know the truth but need confirmation of it, and, 2. that you do truly have their best interests at heart. That means you have to highlight the bad result and direct them towards the good. In other words, "Come to Jesus."

I'd already given him several chances to tell the truth. I'd given him all the consequences and the possible outcomes, I'd even thrown several bones by way of helping him tell me the truth, indicating that was all I needed. I wasn't the police; I was his insurer, and I needed to know the truth because I wasn't willing to testify in court to a lie should a victim come forward and have a claim to present.

Nor should this guy want to be in court with this story...he'd be torn to pieces.

So, on that last opportunity, I laid it out. I explained that I knew he wasn't being truthful, I suspected the reason why, but if he didn't admit what really happened, the people over my head were going to make a decision that didn't bode well for him. I laid out all the legal ramifications of our denial of his claim, should that be the decision. I gave him dollar values, and knowing there was third party damage, I gave him a quote on that bill, which was destined to come his way.

It was a good conversation; I was matter-of-fact about it, encouraged him to be honest, and did my best to let him know that it was in his very best interest to come clean and tell the truth. I knew that if he did, I could proceed, all would be well, and this entire mess would be done. He was becoming more and more nervous, and more and more interested in our dialogue. He asked questions, hemmed and hawed, and I could hear him take several deep breaths, trying to calm his shaking voice. I knew that SOMETHING I'd said had struck a chord, and he was FINALLY understanding what he was facing.

And then I used a technique I learned long ago in law enforcement training: silence. He agonized in it, and came to a decision. I asked if he needed a moment, said that I could take another statement, but if he had to think about it, I understood, as I'd just thrown a lot of information his way. I also said that I would remain available for questions or other concerns.

More silence. Silence is key.

But no; he didn't want to wait, had no more questions, and didn't want to call back. he was ready. He took another deep breath and told me to start the tape, which I did, giving the standard introduction, and just asked him to tell me what happened in his own words. He admitted that he'd been drinking, he didn't call a cab, he didn't lose his keys, but chose to drive. En route home he lost control and crashed, hard, into something he couldn't identify. (It was a cement median pole...dunno how he hit THAT, but he did. Really hard.) Frightened, he ran away and called his friend (a witness who had given me the key to the real deal) who gave him a ride home. I had only a couple question; did he have any passengers? No. And was he injured? No. (Amazing, actually...you should have seen that car...massive impact.)

I thanked him, turned off the recorder, and said, "OK, that's it. I'll call the shop and tell them to start repairs, cut the check out for the estimate I've written so far, and will call the rental company to accept the bill."

He was shocked. One moment he'd been terrified to tell me the real story, the next moment I simply accepted the truth...and went ahead with what he needed.

"That's it?" He asked, increduously, "That's all? .....THANK YOU!"

And I'd never heard such relief or joy in someone's voice.

What he did was what we both needed him to do, and for good reason. All along I'd known, and knew what to do when he finally came clean...and what would happen if he didn't. But he didn't know, couldn't see it, and was acting out of fear in hiding his sin.

A Glimpse of God's View

That night when I was driving home, it hit me: that's how God sees us. That was an example of His own mercy. When we sin, we do the same thing - we try to hide it. We suffer guilt, we tell ourselves that things will be made worse if we are honest and speak the truth. We expect to be berated, or punished. We steel ourselves against an onslaught of righteous anger.

None of us ever gets over the idea that we're going to "get into trouble". We are forever fallen children.

And that's why God's Mercy is so incredible; for even though we DESERVE the worst punishment, when we come to Him, we experience nothing but love and mercy. All God wants us to do is to come to Him, to be honest, and to stop trying to hide the things in our lives that He already knows about. It is only when we take this action that He can work to restore us to our original dignity. Our souls cannot be repaired without our permission.

I knew the sound of relief in my customer's voice on that day; for his relief, and his words, are often my own. His nervous, shaking voice...also mine. His ducking and denials of what I knew to be the truth...me, all the way. And in the end, his relief, at finally speaking the words of what really happened...that is familar as well. It was followed by grateful joy when he learned that truly, I delivered what I promised all along, and it was over. He could move on. Yup...I've been there, too.

He even exclaimed at how good it felt to tell the truth.

All I did for that man was my job, but I see that even the work that I did operated on the hierarchy of God's Providence, revealing to both my customer and I different facets of God's love, and His ordering of the world. On that day, I got to participate in both God's justice and His Mercy...and my customer was the recipient. And in that participation, I obtained a glimpse into the "other side" of Mercy: that of dispensing mercy; for to do so IS just!

I have to be honest; that customer helped me to see Our Lord, and the blessed Sacrament of Confession through new eyes. One thing that I think we as the laity often miss is that on the other side of the screen, or in the other chair, the guy with God's Authority is also a human being. Maybe Father doesn't know all the details about someone that I knew as an Investigator, or perhaps he does, if he knows the person well. And how he must pray mightily that a soul will "come to Jesus" and obtain the grace he needs.

But how well he must know the interior struggle of that person, and how well he must rejoice when the penitent sitting in front of him (0r behind the screen) exclaims, "That's IT?!", nearly weeping in relief. And that dear Priest, dispensing Mercy in the name and person of Christ Himself, knows the feeling, too.

I gotta say it; we're all a bunch of car wrecks waiting for repair, but if we can't admit where and why we made a wrong turn, there isn't a shop in the world that can restore us. Only Christ can do that, and we have but to ask. Mercy awaits.

What are YOU waiting for?
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The Ripple Effect of Sin

We all know about confessing the sins we commit. We read examinations of conscience, focusing on all those things we've done. We go to Confession, we go through our laundry list, and sometimes, it becomes rote because we do the same things wrong all the time.

But every so often, God calls our attention not to what we've actively done to offend Him...but to what we HAVEN'T done. And those sins of omission are often far more brutal in nature than those we actively commit.

The Gospel of Self Esteem

We live in a world that embraces the Gospel of Self-Esteem, a world that focuses on the good that is done, and the evil only if it is defined according to the popular political causes of the day. We are encouraged to think well of ourselves, to treat ourselves well, to give ourselves a break, and to realize that, in all probability, we have an awesome impact on people who come into our lives. It is suggested that we focus on this positive impact, because God forbid that we get into the thought process embodied in "It's a Wonderful Life!"

While I do think it's important for us to realize that we have an inherent dignity and value, and that our lives DO matter to others, and we do, indeed, most likely have a positive impact on the people around us, we also have to remember that we are fallen creatures. And thus, somtimes our not-so-holy-actions have a negative impact, one that can ripple even through centuries and millenia.

Judgment

I know that one day I will stand at my own particular judgment, and I'm pretty darned aware of what I've done in life, the sins I've actively committed, and still commit. And to be honest, I often beat myself up over many of these, especially the big ones, and for a few reasons.

First,because the "big ones" still have an impact in my life, one that will never go away for as long as I walk this earth. For this reason, I have a VERY difficult time in forgiving myself. It might be one of my biggest struggles; forgiving myself. I've been to Confession, and I know that God has forgiven me, and I think I've even had perfect contrition in some of those cases (God can judge that, I can't). Yet, I can't forgive myself, and so at times, I continue to beat myself up over some of these.

Recently I went to Confession, and while I do not suffer from scrupulosity (basically, the belief that EVERYTHING is a sin, and the sufferer cannot seem to accept any consolation of mercy), the priest did note some of my general struggle. He said to me that there is a fine line between beating ourselves up and recognizing and being sorry for our sins...and God does not want us to beat ourselves up. He is merciful, He wants us to experience His mercy, and He wants us to remember His mercy, always.

I am comforted by this counsel, versions of which I've heard over and over again, from different Confessors.

As I mentioned, I do often beat myself up over those things I know are wrong; in part, because if I don't, I find myself rationalizing them. They become unimportant, or "not so bad." I too easily fall into the trap of "Well, that person does it and I think that person is holy, so if they do it, it must be ok." Even contrary to what I know to be objective, I'll give in to rationalization and the next thing you know, I won't bring up that sin in Confession because I no longer "consider" it to be a sin. Thus, it seems far preferable to "beat myself up" and keep that sin in front of my face, even if someone I respect commits it, too. That way, at least I know I did something wrong, I can take personal responsiblity, and I find that when I am tempted by vanity or pride, I can remember somethig that "isn't a big deal" and realize how far I have to go towards Sainthood.

Yet, it is not these "active" sins that scare me the most. I know that I will go before God with these, and I will remember them (even if He does not), but I can accept that because I know my purgatorial state is necessary. It is not these sins that scare me, for I am, I think, paying a lot of my temporal punishment in this life.

Sins of Omission

These are the sins maybe we commmit but don't recognize, for they are a deficit in proper behavior and proper actions. They arise not from what we do...but from what we DON'T do. They are the sins of missed opportunities.

Consideration of these sins are what make me shake in my shoes. Not what I did...but what I didn't do when called to do something.

And second to this...I consider the ripple-effect of those times in life that I had a HORRIBLE effect on someone else. I know of some of these situations, although I'll never be able to see the impact. I remember moments of unkind words, even apologies to the person offended, responded to in humility rather than anger. I think it has been the humility, over the years, that causes me to remember some of these, for they taught me the most.

Amazing to me; even in our most vile moments, we offend God by offending our friends, and He responds in such a way that true kindness towards our evil strikes serve to bring us to real contrition...even years later.

I spent years being evil, both in outward actions as well as in omissions. Part of reconciliation is making amends to offended parties, but most of those are not in my life and were only passing through, chance encounters. I'll never be able to apologize. And I'll never know the ripple effect of my own evil. Yet, God is merciful and He has given me opportunities to make up for some of it, and I only pray that I live long enough to do enough good to counteract the evil I have brought into the world.

We DO have to recognize that while we may have a positive effect on people, we also have a negative effect on others; actively and passively. It's healthy to recognize this, for once we do, we can own it, we can claim it, and we can give it to God in the Sacrament of Confession.

Maybe we'll still suffer for our past action or lack therof; but at least we can come to the point of agreement with God that we have not lived up to His standard.

I wish I could make it up to all the people I've offended, especially in those years during which I so embraced my anger and took it out on everyone around me. Often I knew what was the right thing to do; and still, I chose my own path, not God's.

How great is God's mercy. How great is His compassion; and so my prayer remains that those who were victims of my own sins have experienced God's compassion to a far greater extent than that which I have experienced myself.

I think, to some degree, I understand the Apostle Paul, for he and I are so similiar in so many ways. I pray for his intercession over the next year, and hope that I, too, will be given so many opportunities to bring people to Christ, especially those my actions injured the most.

Confession

Over and over again, I have written about the Sacrament of Confession. And indeed, I love this sacrament, and I still cry when I consider my twelve-year confession and what it was like to be forgiven so unconditionally.

It's still a powerful experience, because of the memory. I remember what the priest looked like, what he was wearing, his joyful expression, and his true concern at my own condition, evidenced by my tearstained face. I had been crying for over 45 minutes by the time I arrived into his presence, and even though I had merited Hell, he was thrilled to be the one to welcome this prodigal daughter home.

I love this sacrament, but I still struggle. Among practicing Catholics, it's easy to get into a conversation about "face-to-face or behind the screen"? What are the merits of each? And does it really matter?

As I mentioned, the best Confession of my life was face to face, and to this day I can't remember it without crying. Additionally, there's something to be said for the humility required for that. Yet I typically choose to go behind the screen. Some of that has to do with the positioning; it's so proper to kneel, and the only way I can kneel to receive God's mercy is behind the screen. Sure, sometimes there's enough room between the priest and the chair to kneel in a face-to-face confession, but I have found it's much easier, less clumsy, and just more obvious to kneel behind the screen.

But there's another reason...I usually go to Confession at my own parish, and I know the priests well. Two of them wrote me recommendation letters to two Grad schools, and the same two were references for my current position. And unless I was dying, I wouldn't even THINK of going to my boss for Confession! So I admit it's my own imperfection, my own pride that inhibits me (except for the confessing to one's boss who happens to be a priest thing. That's different.)

Yet I have stood in front of classrooms of adults in RCIA, of parents returning to the Church, and in small groups, proclaiming the Seal of the Confessional, the fact, as reported by priests themselves, that they can't remember who sat in front of them, what they confessed, and what they said in response. It is truly the Holy Spirit who acts, it is the authority of Jesus that forgives.

And yes, I believe it...but doesn't my own action make my a hypocrite? I fear that it does, because the BIGGEST reason I have for an anonymous confession is that if I sit in front of Father Favorite I fear I will sugar-coat my sins or even go so far as to omit something serious! It's far better to give in to that imperfection of a lack of humility, than to avoid telling Jesus what he already knows so he can offer me sacramental absolution!

There it is. I'm just a Catholic struggling like anyone else. And if going behind a screen makes me go to confession, darn it I'm going to go!

Yet there is still a failing there; besides the issue of humility; I fear that my Confessions are becoming too rote. Too often I'll read through an examination of conscience, and, besides already being aware of my favorite sins, I just toss the publication aside thinking, "I don't do any of that!" And then I feel pretty good about myself.

Uh...no. That's not accurate. Because, really, I know that I'm no saint. This has been bothering me for awhile. Either I'm not being honest with myself and God, or I need to find something more substantial! Yet although I have a few that are quite difficult...they aren't doing the trick. This prompted me today to send an email to a blog-buddy and ask him if he happened to have a "brutal" examination of conscience. What he sent me was good, and I can use it...but it's not enough.

I still haven't found something brutal enough. Nothing that makes me squirm. Which means that it's not the examin I'm using...it's me.

Defiance

The problem with making regular Confessions is that they can become too rote. Yet sometimes things happen to remind us of God's grace, and I really need to remember that. Because so often I think I'm not sorry enough, and sometimes, I'm not sorry at all although I know I should be!

A few years ago, I had an incident at work and I went into the chapel to pray and was still angry. And self-righteous. I did not intend to go to Confession, because I know that "contrition" was not something that I had. But something told me to go, anyway. That "still, small voice" asked me, "Don't you think you should let God be the judge of your sorrow?"

I realized I could go...and confess my lack of sorrow. It was a sin. It was up to my confessor to offer me absolution or not, and I was fully prepared not to be absolved. So I stood in line, and then I went...face to face. And I told Father what had happened (for the purpose of context) and that I wasn't sorry. But I knew where I was, so told him, "I know that what I did offended God..."

And that was it. I began crying, crushed by sorrow. There in the chapel, in front of the Blessed Sacrament, I had acknowledged that I KNEW what I had done was wrong...but I wasn't sorry. It took the grace of the Sacrament to bring me to true Contrition.

To this day, I have no idea how Father kept a straight face. I had come in defiant, and even proudly so...and I left in a puddle of remorse. How do you maintain your composure in the face of such an instantaneous conversion? Seriously?

So you'll never hear me complain that face-to-face confessions are bad...two powerful incidents in my life involved such confessions. Yet, I prefer the screen, I prefer being able to kneel. I prefer that the priest not know who I am, because that is an imperfection of mine. Maybe one day it won't matter to me...and I suspect that will be the day that I die, when I have nothing else to lose.

Pride is a terrible thing, everyone. Fight it with all you have.

Potayto / Potahto, Tomayto / Tomahto

Just by way of explanation, the "preferred" term these days is "Reconciliation". I grew up hearing "Penance" and "Confession". I have adopted Mom's term from childhood, but as an adult, I have adopted that term fully. Reconciliation is only part of the Sacrament, and it's very important...that's the goal. But "reconciliation" presupposes some sort of willingness to admit faults and make amends for them. Thus the term "Penance" comes into play. For when we go to Jesus in this Sacrament, we are asked to do penance for our sins. So some use this term and focus on this aspect. My Mom's term was "Confession" and I have come to love this term because it includes everything. If you only look at it on the surface, it seems to be only one facet - the act of confessing one's sins. Yet "Confession" is required to get to Reconciliation, and then receive one's Penance.

But if we look at this in the totality of what we believe, we also see the term "Confess" in scripture regarding our beliefs. We "Confess" Christ. We "Confess" our belief in Jesus Christ, and we "Confess" that we are followers and thus "Confess" publicly, Jesus as our own identity. Thus, Confession has a LOT more to do with who God calls us to be than just this one sacrament. Yet without this Sacrament....we cannot properly confess the Savior who died for us. We confess to Him in order to be a part of Him.

*

I love Confession, as much or more than I dread it. And I avoid it, and let the little things build up. Lent is beautiful as it shines a spotlight on the blemishes and pits in my life, and maybe I wrote this post because I'm already squirming. (Even though I went to Confession last week). We should ALL be squirming right about now, though, if anything is going RIGHT with Lent, whether we consider ourselves to be failures or not.

Because if we can consider the wounds of Christ and not be convicted, well...there is something hugely wrong with us.

One of the blessings for which I thank Jesus is the Sacrament of Confession...because even as I struggle with all my sins, I know He is there through His chosen representative, and offers me mercy in a very personal way. Whether I'm behind a screen or sitting in a chair, I know I am in the presence of Christ...such that my heart has been converted on the spot.

Going back to the issue of screen versus in-person, I will say this: All day long, many of us stare at screens, or talk on phones, or both, maybe while sitting in cubicles.

And then maybe we go to the church because we need to go to Confession. All day long, we've been in a box, and there's been a barrier between us and someone else, and if there's conflict, often those conflicts are erased when the barriers are removed...in other words, when we are in person.

We are usually more honest in person, believe it or not. And we are more open to being honest and forgiving when we look someone else in the eye.

So maybe it's proper, when trying to be reconciled with Jesus Christ, that we come to him without any kind of barrier. It's too easy to make Confession rote by looking at a screen, just as we do every day, all day. It's easier to depersonalize ourselves, deemphasize our sins, and separate ourselves from the priest who is standing in for Christ, if there is a physical barrier that prevents us from being identified.

Sure, I can visually focus on the presence of Christ if there's a screen, and listen to the priest clearly no matter who he is, if I can't see him. And as I am an imaginative person, it helps me to do this. But for sake of virtue....might it be better to get over myself and start going face to face, no matter what I have to say?

In any case, if you have been away, go again soon. Don't wait to be "sorry enough", or "perfect enough." It's not your job to perfect yourself. And as I have experienced, sorrow is often not necessary upon entering the sacrament. If we are open to what God wants from us, if we are willing to ADMIT we are wrong, even if we have no sorrow, God can still use that, far more powerfully than if we had come to him full of pride but thinking ourselves to be in the right.

Trust Jesus. He died for you. Thank Him for that. And be willing to be honest...with yourself, and with Him, whether you speak to Him behind a screen or to the face He chooses. Your salvation depends on Him.

Participation in the Suffering of Christ

Today I was working, once again, on my paper about prayer and suffering (and all I have left is tweaking and loose ends and a summary, praise God!). And I had an epiphany of sorts.

And there I sat, in tears, completely ashamed of myself, completely humbled, and completely joyful both at the revelation and of the event of being able to cooperate with God's plan of salvation.

Yesterday I wrote of my frustration, of the people who are calling last minute, who haven't bothered to participate in working their children towards their first experience with God's mercy in a direct way, etc. One thing I didn't mention which had rattled me was a woman stating that their biggest conflict was a sporting event about 3 hours away! I wasn't surprised at the "conflict" but I was surprised she was so indifferent as to mention it by name!

(Demon, thy name is Hockey Game...sorry, did I say that OUT LOUD!??)

I told her directly that this is the time that she needs to prioritize and that God should be coming first in her child's life, not sporting events, and that she has to make a choice. I also sympathized to the point that these sports are asking too much of children (they are 7!), but that this is also very important and is a one-time event.

When I left work last night, I was literally in tears driving home.

These people don't get it! They clearly don't take God seriously, and their children are suffering. And of course, my own selfish issues - it's inconvenient to me to have to continue pushing these people through the program. At the same time, it's also a detriment to others who are in need of my time and need me to get certain things done by certain dates. And it's just piling up.

The fact is, of the parents I've had to work with individually, it has been a gift, and I've seen God's hand in that. And yet, now, at "crunch time" I'm still saying "poor me" when I should be praising God that these very can't-be-bothered people have to go through some individualization of the program.These are the very souls that NEED to be addressed individually! And God is using me as His instrument to impart his Word, to impart the importance of the Sacrament, and to help form the parents so they can, in turn, form their children.

I'm starting to think that maybe God should make a whale swallow me, too. Thank God I don't live near the ocean. Just call me "Jonah".

So this afternoon, still frustrated, having had some contact with a parent who feels she should be accomodated for her laziness, and not at all pleased with the prospect of rushing the books or waiting until January to work with Father for their own special Reconciliation date, well, apparently this is a lesson in God's plan for both of us. Or all three of us, if we include her child in the mix.

As I read about suffering, I came across a passage I'd read over and over last spring in Salvifici Doloris. And I considered recently what I'd read in the Old Testament about God being a jealous God, because of how He sees his people (that would be us), and His own pain resulting from Israel's indifference, idolatry, spiritual (and actual) adultery.

I was forced to turn my questions and accusation from God and others to myself; why am I really upset? Is it my own selfishness, my own control-freak-ness coming out? Yes, partially. But there's more. I'm frustruated because these people don't get it. They don't care, and God means nothing to them. The Sacrament is just another "event" in their lives, it has no real meaning, it's extra work in their lives they don't think they need, and it's just a hoop to get through in order to get their kids through the picture-perfect day of First Communion, the photos of which they will put up on a poster board on the day of High School graduation and maybe parse into a DVD on their wedding day.

And suddenly I was realizing that this is the modern-day realization of the Old Testament text of Hosea. And I realized that I was seeing US through God's eyes, and that for some reason, I'm in the role of "prophet", that being the person set to call people back to God, back to repentance.

I don't want to be a prophet. They all come to scary-bad ends. But the role is important.

And to be clear, anyone reinforcing God's love, calling people to the Sacraments, and working to preach the true Gospel message is a prophet.

So all you out there working in RCIA, Faith Formation, Priests, Sisters, Religion Teachers, etc. Congratuations. You're prophets. And I'm guessing you're frustrated, too, aren't you?

Of course you are. And those of you who have been doing this for awhile are likely chuckling at my post from yesterday. Because you know better than I, and you likely realized long ago what hit me today.

My frustration, my stress, my anxiety, all of it, over this coming weekend and the next few weeks trying to get parents to get their kids through this wonderful Sacrament of Mercy is a participation in God's own suffering. I suddenly recognized the bloody face of Jesus, covered with thorns, his eyes tearing up due to the indifference of His people.

God is constantly rejected, and it seems that those who truly love Him and are willing to put Him before their 7 year old's sporting or dance events are few and far between. It's disheartening.

And I'm ashamed because Jesus Himself accepted this suffering silently, not wasting words, not complaining, not lamenting his condition. And he died on the cross knowing that first I abused Him and then when I finally "got it" I abused him some more by refusing to also accept the same abuse of divided hearts in the same silent suffering.

So I have been suffering badly because my last 24 hours has been spent not in accepting God's will and just loving His people as He does, but in crying and complaining.

That is NOT the way to "offer it up."

So today I've been chastized, and all I can do is thank God for that, because were it not for this, I would not understand.

I pray I can go into this weekend now renewed and refreshed with clearer vision and instead of being my crabby self, put on the mind of Christ and let my hands and voice be His, even in the face of those who just don't care.

Faith Begins at Home

In order to understand the Sacrament of Reconciliation, we first have to understand what "sin" is. Sin can be defined as a rejection of God's love, an abuse of free will, because we turn our backs on God when we choose to sin, or, as St. Thomas Aquinas stated in Summa Theologica, "disordered love."

If we go back to the beginning, back to the Garden of Eden, consider the first thing Adam and Eve did after they ate of the fruit?

They hid from God.

And when God walked through the garden, He called to them, calling them to conversion. Make no mistake; God knew what they had done, but He respected their free will, for he was not going to reneg on his gift of freedom. Would they accept or reject His love? They had a choice, and so God called to them, "Where are you?"

When God did confront them and asked them what they had done, indeed, He knew. But how did Adam and Eve respond?

They blamed each other. They blamed God. So we see that sin drives a wedge in between ourselves and each other, and between ourselves and God.

Maybe this has happened at your house. Maybe, for example, you left your children safely seated in front of Veggie Tales as you ran next door with soup for a sick neighbor. But upon your return, 10 minutes later, the dog or cat had mysteriously colorful markings that looked suspiciously like finger paint. And the dolls were all bald. And the four-year-old's hair was all over the kitchen floor.

And the house is strangely silent.

What's the first thing you say? Might I suggest:

"WHO DID THIS!?"

You already know who did it, or at least have a pretty darn good idea. And if they haven't already been hiding by that point, they likely did when they heard your tone. Or perhaps they are back in front of Veggie Tales pretending to be innocent with all their might.

And so you confront them directly. "What did you do?" (Even though what they did was apparent given the evidence of the fingerpaint stained hands and clothing, not to mention the dog, and the badly-shorn head of the 4 year old, and the scissors in the hand of her brother.)

What do they say?

"HE DID IT! SHE DID IT! THE DOG DID IT! IT'S YOUR FAULT, YOU shouldn't have left." And they look at you balefully.

Are you buying it? Not so much.

But there's good news in spite of all of this, because you love your children, and you want them to be reconciled to you, and so you help that process along.

That's how God responded, too. He loves us all so much, that even though we constantly reject his love and act in disobedience, He works to reconcile us to him.

Consider the ministry of Jesus; it was all about forgiveness. Bartimaeus the blind man, the sinful woman at the Pharisee's home, and the paralytic lowered down to Jesus for healing. Indeed, he healed them all by forgiving their sins, but acknowledging what was unseen.

Jesus drew the line in between pious acts with no internal correlation, and brought to the forefront the need of an interior conversion. He recognized, in other words, not what was on the outside, but what was on the inside; repentance, shame, contrition, devotion, faith...all of those things. All that was unseen. Jesus could see what was in the heart.

Just a you can see, when your children come to you with true contrition. You can tell, can't you, when they really are repentant, when they recognize that they have offended, when they have done something wrong? You can see when they are truly sorry, as opposed to when they just look at their sibling and say "I'm sorry" and don't mean it. God can see that, too. Just as you can see when your kids are fudging, God can see when we're fudging.

So that was the mission of Jesus Christ...to reconcile us, and he didn't leave us alone, but passed on his ministry to the Apostles, and that ministry is still alive and well today.

Consider this; twice in the Bible, God "breathes". In Genesis 2, God breathes life into Adam, and in John 20:22-23, He breathes on the Apostles, saying, "Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven. If you retain the sins of any, they are retained." In this way, Jesus passed his authority specifically onto the Apostles, and this ministry has been passed down through Holy Orders since that time.

I'm going to jump back to the Old Testament for a moment. Consider this; the Bible is a love story. If you really read it, you see that it's all about love, it's all about mercy, and it's all about salvation. Throughout history, it has always been we who turned away from God. God never abandoned His people; the people always turned from Him, sinning against him in rejecting his love and his covenant. Over and over again, God made a new covenant, and each time, people broke that covenant. Finally, God definitively restored our dignity by coming to us in the flesh, by sending his own Son to die in our place. Justice has been served, in a redemptive act of mercy. If that isn't a love story, I don't know what is.

So we see clearly that God offers Mercy...how do we respond? We have a choice, to accept or reject. The first step is to become aware of the ways we have offended God, and we do this through an examination of conscience. Once we are aware, we get ourselves to a priest in the Sacrament of Reconciliation, and there, we admit to God our personal failings, and resolve to do better, because we love Him.

So when we go to the Sacrament of Reconciliation (also called Confession, Penance, the Sacrament of Healing, Forgiveness, and Mercy), we meet not just the priest, but Jesus himself. We are alone before God, we are confessing to Him through the priest. Just as the priest stands in persona christi, that is, "in the person of Christ" at the consecration of the Mass, so he is during the sacrament of Confession. And no matter what we say, he can never reveal what we have said; priests have gone to their deaths rather than ever reveal what was said to them in Confession.

You will never hear me say that this Sacrament is necessarily easy, and in fact, it's hard. It's really difficult, especially if you've been away for a long time. And so I think it's appropriate that I share with you my own Confession story, because I used to hate this Sacrament, I didn't believe in it, and in fact, I really wasn't much of a Catholic, either. Call me Bartimaeus. Because this gospel describes me, I'm going to post it here:

(Mark 10:47)

They came to Jericho. And as he was leaving Jericho with his disciples and a sizable crowd, Bartimaeus, a blind man, the son of Timaeus, sat by the roadside begging. 47 On hearing that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to cry out and say, "Jesus, son of David, have pity on me." 48 And many rebuked him, telling him to be silent. But he kept calling out all the more, "Son of David, have pity on me."
49 Jesus stopped and said, "Call him." So they called the blind man, saying to him, "Take courage; get up, he is calling you." 50 He threw aside his cloak, sprang up, and came to Jesus. 51 Jesus said to him in reply, "What do you want me to do for you?" The blind man replied to him, "Master, I want to see."
52 Jesus told him, "Go your way; your faith has saved you." Immediately he received his sight and followed him on the way

I was raised Catholic, was very involved in my faith in High School, but when I went to college, for different reasons, I lost my faith. More of the story is here and here. (For the purpose of length, I'm summarizing. Regular readers know this part of the story well.)

In any case, so it was that I realized it was time to come home. I thought I was unholy. I thought that if I went to Mass, I was the most unholy person there so I remained in the back of the church, not wanting to come closer for fear anyone would be able to see through me and see how awful I was. I avoided priests, because I was afraid they could REALLY see how bad I was and make me go to Confession. Because I didn't want to go to Confession. It was my biggest sticking point. God had an answer, though, because he threw a priest across my path; I went to a friend's home one day, and there he was, visiting her family. He and I had a wonderful conversation and there was not a single point where he indicated that he realized how terrible I was as a human being. So I began to think that maybe I could at least go talk to him, maybe make my confession. But every time I picked up the phone to call him, I hung up quickly. So finally I resolved to go one Saturday. I got into my car, I drove to the church...and as soon as I saw it I hit the gas and got out of there! It was a few years before I finally got to the point that I couldn't take living in that darkness anymore. There I was, at the roadside, at the back of the church, praying, "God, please don't give up on me. Jesus, have pity on me!"

And all the while, Jesus was calling. And I fled, just like Adam and Eve. I hid. But God is faithful, and he never gave up on me.

So a Holy Week came, and I wanted to receive Jesus worthily on Easter. I wanted the blindness lifted. I wanted to come home.

So I found a church I would likely never go to again, and attended a penance service. The reading was, of course, all about the Prodigal Son. And as I listened, tears coursing down my cheeks, I held the examination of conscience, and convicted myself of everything on it, even sins I hadn't committed! At the end of the service, they announced where each priest would be, and where to go if desirous of an anonymous confession. Realizing that the line was immediately 2 weeks long, I opted to jump into a closer line, for a face-to face confession. Because I had toiled so long to get here, and fought every moment not to flee again. So I got in line, crying, unable to stop. I stood there for 45 minutes or so, trying to hide my tears, but no one was fooled; but they were sensitive enough not to say anything. Tears are common, more so than you may realize.

Finally it was my turn, and to this day I feel so bad for that poor priest! When he saw my condition he said, "Oh my!"

I didn't remember what to do or say, so I only choked out, "Father, it's been 12 years...." And I waited for my punishment.

"12 YEARS! THAT'S GREAT! THAT'S WONDERFUL! You're the PRODIGAL DAUGHTER! WELCOME HOME!"

Huh?

He stopped just short of hugging me, although he likely wanted to, and really, it would have been appropriate. He heard my confession, although he likely couldn't understand me, but nodded while listening, understanding I was doing the best I could. And I will never in a thousand years be able to describe that experience of mercy. I will never be able to tell you adequately what it was like to be absolved, 12 years of...YUCK...gone. And I could finally see again.

We cannot free ourselves from our sin; we need God's grace. We need help. But God doen't just come when we call; He answers, but asks us to take a step. Bartimaeus threw aside his cloak, symbolic of casting off his sin, and he walked to Jesus himself. We are called to come to Jesus in the Sacrament of Reconciliation; we have to cooperate with grace.

All of the sacraments are a personal encounter. In the Gospel, Jesus did not heal en masse...he had a very direct and personal encounter with each individual. That has not changed. Of the 3 forms of the sacrament, all require individal grace, even the extreme "General Absolution", used only in emergencies or mission territories. If we survive the emergency, we are STILL required to go meet Jesus personally in the sacrament. In most dioceses, including our own, the Archbishop has declared that the conditions do not exist to validate a General Absolution. While it does happen here, I will not comment; it is between that parish and the Archibishop. We must act according to what we know, and follow what is right. And who doesn't want that personal encounter with Christ?

But it's so important to know that faith begins at home; faith is learned at home. Parents are the foundation. In 20 years, your children will not remember their catechists, their teachers in school, or the sacramental books they have to write in. But they WILL remember your lived faith, and in later years, that's what makes the difference.

Even though I rebelled, and I had no problem criticizing the Church, I could not criticize Mom...not with regard to her faith. She lived it out, and she revealed through action, no matter what disasters were happening, Mass and Confession had priority in her life. So I saw Truth there. And in the face of that, I knew there were answers to my questions and doubts.

Remember; it is YOUR job to instruct your children in the faith. While it is learned and reinforced in school also, it is truly learned at home. If you have questions and don't know the answers, don't worry! None of us knows everything! But there are resources. We all want our children to be as intimite with Jesus Christ as possible; we all want them to experience the joy and the forgiveness and relationship with Jesus we have all had through this sacrament.

When First Reconciliations come up, there will be several priests available, and we encourage all of you to attend with your children. Just as you help them prepare and share your own joy, it's even better if you go to the sacrament as a family, then keep that habit. We are given the ability and grace to become saints; but that road begins in the home, and I'm living proof of the importance of that example. John Paul II and Mother Teresa, both spiritual giants, went to Confession DAILY. I have to wonder; what are the rest of us missing that we don't?

The best way to become a Saint is to live like one; today is the day we should start, and pray that the children follow our example.