My Act of Confession

For those of you who don't know, my daughter goes to catholic school.  Although I am not a practicing catholic and neither is her father, we decided to send her there based on the crappy public school district that we lived in when she went to kindergarten.  I went to catholic school and once I was out of there in 9th grade because I went to a public high school, I never looked back.  Until I had my daughter.  When she was a baby, we had her baptized "just in case".  Not that I believe in heaven and hell but because my mother lobbied for her to be baptized so that if something happened to her (God forbid) she would be able to go to heaven.  This was a real concern for my mother so I gave in and we baptized her catholic.

This year Lila is in 2nd grade.  This is the year she makes her first communion.  But before she can make her first communion she has to make her first confession.  In the catholic faith you are not supposed to receive communion with sin on your soul so you have to go to confession before you receive communion.  All these firstd mean that Lila has to go to several weeks of preparation classes on Sundays.  The classes are after mass on Sunday and attendance at mass is mandatory as they pull all the kids aside during the service and give lessons then as well.  I have been taking Lila to church on Sundays.

I don't know how I feel about going to church on Sundays.  I am not sure I believe in any of this anymore.  In fact I know I don't.  When I am in church, I listen intently sort of wishing that I found solace in the idea that Jesus loves me.  I envy those who can pray and take comfort in the idea that God is there for them.  I just don't have that. 

This past Saturday, Lila made her first confession.  The celebration involved her having an adult come with her as she waited to confess her sins and the adult would go and confess after her to show their support.  Since Ben is Lutheran and her godparents live in Florida, I was the adult that went with her.  We carried a candle to represent the light of Lila's soul and after we both confessed we were to light the candle as a symbol of the light burning bright now that her soul had been wiped clean through the sacrament of confession.

I stressed about having to go to confession.  I haven't been in 20 years or more.  Not since junior high school.  So I was not looking forward to the required "Bless me father for I have sinned.  It has been 20 + years since my last confession." I wasn't going to be able to sit there and tell him all the ways I had sinned in the last 20 years and most of all I would have to admit that I didn't think I really believed anymore.  I thought I would be there for an hour holding up the line and people would start to wonder why I was taking so long.

By the time Lila finished her very brief confession (she only had one sin to confess: Sometimes she yells at her mother), I was playing the scenario in my head and dreading the whole thing.  I went and sat down in front of the priest.  Before I was even able to say anything, he began.  "I just have 2 simple questions for you.  Do you admit that you have sinned?" he said.  "Yes," I replied.  "Ok. Are you sorry for the sins that you have committed?" I stopped for a minute.  I have done a lot of things wrong in the eyes of the church.  I lived with Ben for 8 years without being married.  I don't know that I am necessarily sorry for that.  But I wanted to make this simple.  "Yes," I replied.  The priest sat for a moment.  "Then unless you have something specific that you want to talk about we can move forward with the absolution." 

This was the easiest thing I had ever done.  I didn't have to go into 20 some odd years of transgressions that I'm not sure I am sorry for.  He had made it as simple as just admitting it and saying sorry.  He blessed me and told me to go on my way.  He didn't even assign me a penance of prayers to say.  He didn't even make me struggle to remember my Act of Contrition.  Lila and I went and lit her candle and added it to the growing number of candles on a table set up on the altar.  I went back to my seat feeling light.  I felt pretty good actually.

This was something I missed about Catholicism. You go and confess your sins and you are forgiven and it is like a weight is taken off your shoulders.  For the most part I didn't feel guilty about the idea that I offended God.  But I had done some things that hurt other people.  Things I carried around with me for years feeling bad about them not knowing how to make amends.  But today I was told I was forgiven.  Now I just had to forgive myself. 

Part of me began to enjoy the idea of going to church on Sundays.  I like the pageantry of it.  I like the community.  I just wish that I could really believe in something.  I just don't.  In the end I have to admit that going to confession doesn't make amends to others that I may have hurt.  But perhaps I could forgive myself for all the ways I have hurt myself over the years.  The only person I really need to make amends to right now is me.  Perhaps I could be forgiven for not respecting myself or treating myself with kindness.  Perhaps I could be forgiven for the ways I have abused by body and not taken care of my soul. Perhaps I can use this as a starting point to begin to treat myself better. To take care of my own needs.

I don't know that I will make it a regular thing-taking Lila to confession.  But maybe once in a while, when I am feeling like I have just been awful to myself I can go and be told that I am forgiven. Perhaps just hearing those words will give me space to breathe. Now we just need to work on getting Lila a few more sins to confess.