Since I don't get to post as often as I used to, the moment I get a chance to write, entries spill out left and right. :)
Anyway, today I wanted to go to Confession as part of my "Get on a plane to die" preparations.
Can you tell I'm just a tad scared of flying?
So I tell my coworker I'll be a little late for lunch because I needed to go to Confession and he sorta laughed. Firstly, he's not Catholic, so the concept of Confession is foreign to him. Secondly, he finds it amusing that I legitimately fear death by way of flying. Some people double check their wills are in order before they fly. Me? I double check my soul. I feel like it's the smarter of the two. Heh.
Another coworker overheard me saying as much and he asked if I liked going to Confession. Hence the topic of this entry.
The answer is no. I don't actually like going to Confession. I push it off regularly. That being said, I also LOVE going to Confession. I try to go regularly. It's like those two sides of me are CONSTANTLY bickering - right up until I finish my confession (because even while I'm 'in the box,' my mind is trying to say "Eh, that sin isn't big enough to report" or "Oh man, do NOT tell him that... he'll try to exorcise you right now!" Until I get everything out, part of me is trying to claw its way out the situation.
Even walking to the basilica today... I was walking towards the confessional with dread because I knew I'd have to confess all my dirty little sins. However, even walking towards the church with that dread, I was practically skipping because I was walking towards Jesus. My heart was a little "Don't do it, you'll embarrass yourself, it's shameful, just go grab your lunch and do this later!" while a dopey grin was plastered on my face since my soul was practically chirping a "Jesus, get ready, 'cause here I come!" song to drown out the shame working its way through my system.
You'd think going regularly helps. I guess it does to a certain extent. It's a good way to train your body into relaxing a little because you know that once it's all out, the world isn't going to end and the priest isn't going to try to drive a stake through your heart. It'll allow that part of you that buzzes with excitement to grow confidence. However, it hasn't yet stifled the negativity for me. I dunno that it ever will. Maybe it shouldn't, either. Confession shouldn't be something I am overjoyed to run to every day, ya know? It should be a Sacrament that I make use of regularly, of course, but it's good to have a certain degree of dread going in there.
Maybe not dread of the priest, but dread of facing yourself in the reflection of Truth. Trying to see yourself as God sees you... in the light of His Commands. Doing a thorough Examination of Conscience and then owning up to how you faired on the exam - it's not an easy thing. However, the worthwhile things in life rarely are. So again, maybe a bit of dread isn't the worst thing in the world if you cling to the fact that Jesus is on the other side of that grille waiting to take you back with open arms. He's practically giddy with excitement as He rushes to meet us with His Mercy through the absolution of His priests.
The knowledge that my soul is clear should I die in a fiery plane crash a day or so later doesn't hurt, either. ;) Ha ha ha.
But yes. Those are my feelings on Confession. I mostly love it. But there is definitely a part of me that really, REALLY wishes I could go without it. Heh. Then again, who actually likes taking medicine?
11/21/2012 01:44:58 am
I'm glad to see that I'm not the only one who feels this way. That post is exactly how I feel about confession.
I think most people think of confession similarly to the dentist. You know you should go, you know it is good for you to go, but it doesn't mean you'll enjoy it.
Oh Gina, we headed off to the Gulf Shores for Thanksgiving and went to confession the day before, too. And my hubby works at a Benedictine Abbey so I agree with you about the perks of rubbing shoulders with the priests/seminarians. Its wonderful when they know you by name isn't it? Sometimes though I wish they didn't remember what I confessed to them.
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