Lost at the Beach

Stephen Colbert and I share a couple of things in common. We are both Catholic and we both go to confession. But we differ in which he conducts mock midnight confessions on late night TV, while I practice the Sacrament of Reconciliation in real life. It doesn’t make me any better than Stephen, as his job is to make people laugh while my responsibility is to approach the confessional in a different light.
I usually attend Confession periodically when I become aware of something that is not right within my heart or better yet, other times when I am really struggling and can no longer breathe the stench of my sinful pride. At this breaking point, it feels like I literally crawl to the Confession, utterly damaged and a shell of my former self. Sure, I have visited the confessional where I am checking off my venial sins like I am ordering ham and cheese at the deli. But there are other times where my soul is just sucked dry and the accuser (Satan) is strangling the remains of my psyche. It’s here, when I can no longer breathe another second of my toxicity and I surrender my ego at the confessional door and humbly present my brokenness.
In full transparency, it is hard to evaluate my soul and to say aloud my sins. Sometimes, I wish the experience could be more like a Stephen Colbert skit where I am cracking jokes and drinking whiskey to get me through this difficult process. But unfortunately, any joke or drug would only impede the very essence on why we are there. Jesus only wants us, our very raw being, where we can desperately empty out our sinful failures to the feet of Christ who already sacrificed himself so we can live again. A “good confession” allows us to let go of the old and become new again. This transformation can be the epitome of freedom and one that can be absolutely life changing.
Seventeen years ago in late June, I had one of those powerful experiences in which I went to Confession to a blind priest of all people! I recall walking gingerly into the room and spying this blind man (he can see only shadows of light) sitting there and waiting to hear my confession. I don’t remember the exact details of that conversation (nor would I want to share them with you) but I do recall the dancing of his holy eyes moving rapidly back and forth and his passionate plea/penance was that I should contemplate God’s love on a daily basis, and of course the absolution of all sins. I recollect the lightness of leaving the Church, feeling free, and no longer chained to my former self. So since that moment, every single day for the past 17 years, I have taken a moment to pray about God’s love in my life. That is a pretty powerful activity in both good times and bad and has helped me to discover an indescribable depth of God’s Love and His Almighty presence in so many elements on this spinning wheel we call earth.
Now don’t get me wrong, there was some more weight to this conversation that I had with Fr. Patrick Martin which influenced me into this daily routine. Still yet, I can’t help but share this small personal experience just in case you may struggle with any type of brokenness. If you are Catholic and haven’t been to Confession for a long while but feel challenged with maybe a sin(s) , or like me when you feel like smelly trash, please think about taking a (courageous) step into the confessional. You might not find a blind priest or jokes/whiskey for that matter, but you will encounter the mercy of Jesus, who loves you more than you know, and He can make you whole again.