What you are about to read is a true story.
If it were not so terribly funny I would not bother further humiliating myself by printing it. But it is and so I am. Some of you may have already heard this story over coffee on an early Saturday morning so feel free to take a break from the computer until something more interesting comes along.I won't be insulted, I promise. For those who haven’t, read-on.
A few weeks ago I had been going about my business when I came across a copy of an older version of an examination of conscience. Since I am in the habit of regular visits to the box, I took it as a means to better myself by more carefully reviewing my day. I made a mental note about trying to remember number and kind when making a good confession and thought ‘I should be more careful about this, maybe I’ll give it a go next time around.’
On Monday evening our church offers a night novena to the miraculous medal. If we time it right, we can pick our 2 older boys up from Chemistry and head over to make it in time for evening mass. Fred, after picking up the boys, noticed our timing was perfect and said he’d head straight to church.
As luck would have it we got there a few minutes early. I noticed the confession line and checking the clock gauged I’d have just enough time to do a quick clean-up in the box before mass. Patiently I waited reviewing the number and kind idea once more, proud of myself for remembering.(nope I didn't forget to check pride,again.) Finally it was my turn and I slipped into the darkened booth and began the formula taught to me in my youth.
I began to list out my sins.
After stating the first 2 in number and kind, I heard the priest ask me to speak up.
O.K. my voice rose a bit as I listed them one more time, just to make sure he heard.
Again, the priest asked if I would speak up.
Wow, O.K. and I now began to speak in a conversational tone which made me uncomfortable but surely would fulfill the request.
One more time the priest stopped me. Here is what he said next:
“Could you please speak up dear as my hearing aid has just broken and I cannot hear what you are saying unless you speak much louder then you are now.”
Seriously.
Well, what happened next is still a blur to my mind. Shouting one’s sins to a half full church with your husband within earshot will have that effect on you. I am not sure I actually got the number and kind thing correct by that point, but I know God is merciful (and I am certain from this incident He also has a sense of humor). And apparently from the look on my husband’s face as I crawled into the pew next to him afterwards, Fred does too. As do my boys who were also in attendance for the performance. And some of my next door neighbors. And good old Sally from across town.The list goes on.
The good news is I survived. The better news is I have amended my life in such a way I will never have to worry about another experience like that one again.
Ever!
C.S. Lewis once said “Humility is a brutal teacher, but you learn, by God do you learn!”
Ever!
C.S. Lewis once said “Humility is a brutal teacher, but you learn, by God do you learn!”
No kidding.
Oh Ellie, you are good. I would have walked out. I don't think my humility level is at the level yours it at. :/ I have had unpleasant experiences in the confessional though, so I feel some of your pain!
ReplyDeleteFunny how I can recall the feeling of kneeling in that dark box, waiting for the window to slide open, so vividly after all these years.
ReplyDeleteSome things never go away, which is why I say there is no such thing as an ex-Catholic; it's one of those things that remains part of you all your life. Even in a case where one's next trip to the box would begin, "Bless me father, for I have sinned. It has been forty-three years since my last confession. I think."
OH MY GOSH! I cracked up (inside... I'm still at work) when I read this. THIS TOTALLY HAS HAPPENED TO ME!!! Of course, does this surprise you? This happened to me years ago after a lying incident. Now, you've known me for years and know how ...well, I just don't lie!
ReplyDeleteI had gone to morning Mass (along with most of my young Catholic friends at the time) and found that this Old "Holy" priest who I always admired for his prayerfulness, was hearing confessions afterwards. I'd never gone to hime myself, but after long admiring him, was eager to.
So... I (as you), slipped into the box, eager to make a "good" confession to this sure "Saint".
As I began, "Bless me Father for I have sinned..." etc... He said, "WHAT?" I spoke up a bit and he responded, "OHhhh! Confession Espanol?" I cringed... I then realized he was almost totally deaf. I went about shouting each and every last sin and can still remember yelling at the top of my lungs, "I LIED, I LIED, I LIIIIIIIIEEEEEED!!!!"
When I exited, I hoped no one heard me, but there were all my friends snickering with heads beant in their pew.
Certainly and unforgettable experience, isn't it?