The Tale of a Sacrament, an Encounter with Mercy

I am a person who has struggled in life with accepting God’s forgiveness. Some of the things I have done have hurt my soul so bad, it seems, God wouldn't bother listening to me at all. I always tried to convince myself of God’s love and forgiveness and I've tried to remember all those comforting bible verses. You know the ones.

But some people are better at that than others. I am no good at it! And maybe I ought to say that I didn't doubt my salvation. It was more like I doubted that mercy could touch me, and so I had a thirst for it - a thirst for mercy that seemed unquenchable. When I tell my shames to God, I want him to do like he does in the bible and touch my soul, tell me his love, and help me move on.

As a former reformed protestant, I was suspicious of Confession. You know the whole in a box, with a priest thing. I don’t think so! I have a firm commitment to the founding principle that only God can forgive sins and there is only one mediator between God and man and that mediator is Jesus. So no thank you Mr. Priest, sir. I’ll just go “straight to Jesus” thankyouverymuch.

With time I got it down that the Catholic Church does teach that only God can forgive sins, and that on the merit of Jesus Christ alone (CCC 1441). Also I discovered John 20: 22-23 – wherein Jesus says, "..he breathed on them and said to them, 'Receive the Holy Spirit. Whose sins you forgive are forgiven them, and whose sins your retain are retained."

Eventually I started going to Confession regularly and it did me in. There was something about it that seemed more definite and serious than anything I had ever done before. Almost like the sacrament of Confession had some kind of a breaking power over my sin and shame. And then the words – oh, the beautiful words! – spoken by the priest:

God the Father of mercies, through the death and resurrection of your son, you have reconciled the world to yourself and sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins. Through the ministry of the church, may God grant you pardon and peace. And I absolve you of your sins, in the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

In Confession it is so simple. Me, a priest, my Lord and a promise: the tender mercy of absolution. It is certainly not about the priest, though he is there. But it is about me and my need for assurance – I need to know that I can be reconciled to my Maker, and I need to be assured that he wants it too, in spite of my poor memory and my emotional whims. And this is what sacraments are for: Heaven meets earth for the most important things; those parts of my interior life that ought not be left up to ambiguity or a pantheon of pick and choose theological positions.

My soul needs absolution and this is serious business. Probably many people don’t agree. But even those unfamiliar with Christianity say “I am sorry, forgive me.” We want to make right our wrongs and in the end we want to know that we are going to be okay in spite of the sins that haunt. I have found that going to confession is a soothing remedy for my doubtful mind. I fly to the mercy of Christ in Confession and he meets me there. And it is a chosen descendent of St. Peter himself who leaves me with those words: May God grant you pardon and peace. I make the sign of the cross and all I know to say is thank you, Jesus.