THE
DISTANT PAST
First
of all, let me emphasize that I do believe in going to confession. As a matter of fact, despite being a layman
who is much more thoroughly involved in his professional life than he is with
any form of church-based activities, I have had two confessors. Namely:
*
Fr. Sylvain Rabiller, MEP (a Father of
the “Missions Étrangères de Paris” or Foreign Missions of Paris), who was my
confessor in Hong Kong. He was sent by
his religious order to Hong Kong as some sort of “advanced party.” Among others, his mission was to study the Asian culture and to relay his
findings back to his order, to better prepare other MEP fathers who will later
on also serve in Asia.
*
Fr. Francis Hubilla, OSB, a Benedictine
Father. He is a clinical psychologist
(i.e., a PhD candidate in clinical/counselling psychology, lacking only the
dissertation), and former Dean of the College of Arts and Sciences of San Beda
College in Manila.
Indeed,
whenever I saw them to ‘say confession,’ it was always face to face, no holds
barred, and the sessions usually lasted for at least an hour. I have also had a few other competent confessors whom I
selected and sought out, but so far Fathers
Rabiller and Hubilla have been the most significant.
I
am all for saying confession. The
problem is, many priests are not qualified to hear confession.
Many,
many years ago, I visited a church in Makati.
(I probably even attended Holy Mass, but I do not recall for sure.) After spending some time in prayer, I entered
one of the confessionals at the back of the church in order to say confession,
not expecting that I would have one of the most traumatic experiences of my
life. For the sake of objective case
analysis, I will waive the seal of confidentiality and will disclose here “some”
or a “variation” of the contents of the confession. Basically, I confessed to the priest that I
have harboured anger in my heart, that I have been angry towards certain people
for quite some time, but I have always been very patient, never acting on my
anger, and always holding my temper. I
was hoping that the priest would give me advice on how to subdue my anger and even sublimate the emotional energy, and quite frankly I was even
expecting that he would even commend me for not acting on my anger. After all, what we actually do is more
important than what we feel. Unfortunately however, the priest did not see
it that way. The priest lashed out at
me. “You should not feel angry! It is
wrong to feel angry! Blah, blah, blah!”
He ranted away, which was quite ironic, because while he was scolding me,
he himself was very angry.
After
that, I promised myself that I will never go to confession again unless I was
very certain of the competence and intellectual maturity of the priest that I
would be saying confession to. (Years later I would read St. Teresa of Avila's "The Way to Perfection," where she advised that we should indeed be thoroughly careful in selecting confessors, thus affirming my decision.)
RECENT
EVENTS
Last
December, I decided to once again go to confession as soon as I find the opportunity to do so, or more specifically the right confessor. Indeed, since then I have specifically
included in my prayers a supplication for “a cleansing and edifying confession.” Pertinently, since I believed that it was
just a matter of time and my prayer will be answered, and thus I will be able to
say confession once again, I deliberately took time to contemplate on what sins
I could confess, and I even wrote them down in an organized manner. In other words, I have deliberately
been praying and preparing for confession since December 2012, or for nearly
four months.
Two
evenings ago, Maundy Thursday, I took my Mom for our annual Visita
Iglesia. I did not expect to have the
opportunity to go to confession, therefore right before leaving the house I did
not bother to review my notes on the things I wanted to discuss during confession.
During
Visita Iglesia we normally visit seven churches. When we arrived to the fifth church, I saw
that confessions were going on. Therefore
even if I wasn’t prepared for it, I decided to take the opportunity. I did not know any of the
priests hearing confession, I did not know what religious order they came from
or whether they were diocesan priests, and
I certainly had no assurance that they were more competent (as confessors) than
the priest who lashed out at me in that church in Makati many years ago. However, since I was very desirous of saying confession
before Holy Week was over, I decided to take the risk. After all, what are the chances of having
another botched up confession, two impromptu confessions in a row, after so
many years, right?
Again,
for the sake of objective case analysis, I will waive the seal of
confidentiality and will disclose here “some” or a “variation” of the contents
of the confession. This is how it went:
Francis: “Bless me Father for I have sinned. I cannot exactly recall when my last confession
was, I think it was three years ago.” (I
did not know how to explain to him that I have in fact had full-time confessors/spiritual
directors in the past, and that I have eagerly prepared for this confession
since December 2012. I did not know how
to explain these things, so I did not.)
Priest: So it’s been a while. Go on.
Francis: I cannot recall all my sins (because I did
not review my thoroughly prepared notes right before I left the house), however
I do recall one particular sin (which is actually a central and underlying sin
that has evoked the other sins). I have
allowed myself to be often worried. The
nature of my professional work entails so much constant and extreme pressure,
that I cannot help but become worried and anxious quite often, not having enough
faith that God will pull me through. As
a result, I can get irritable and judgmental, sometimes taking it out on other
people. (Note: Later in the evening, when I finally got
home, I reviewed my notes and realized that I actually did not miss
anything of significance. That is, the foregoing sin of “worry”
was basically it.)
Priest: You know, there is a correlation between the
frequency of your visits to confession and the number of sins that you
recall. Blah, blah, blah! If you go to confession often, you will be
able to recall all your sins. If you don't go to confession often, you won't be able to recall many of them, just like the way with you now. Blah, blah, blah!
(I said to
myself, “Uh-oh, here we go again.” He
spoke in a rather authoritative and condescending tone, obviously scolding
me. We were in a confessional, thus we
could not see each other. But judging
from his voice, I imagine that he was younger than I, he was perhaps in his 30’s,
probably even late 20’s. He was very
fluent with English, though. Quite
articulate, I imagined therefore that he was probably very good in school,
perhaps even graduating at the top or near the top of his class back in the
seminary. I have known quite a few
priests like him, graduating at the top of their class, academically competent. But when it comes to the practicalities of
the real world ... well, no comment. It is
only when they get older, when they reach their 40s, that they finally start to
really mature. Anyway, I was so tempted
to argue with this particular priest and give him a piece of my mind. But I managed to hold my temper and refrain
from arguing. After all, I believe that in
the confessional, he as priest is just an instrument, and that the conversation
is not between me and him, but actually between me and God. Therefore out of respect for God, I subdued
my temper and held my peace.)
(The priest then
continued, and asked me a question that nobody has ever asked me before.)
Priest: So, have you defrauded anyone?
Francis: No.
(He then asked
another personal question, the kind of question that we never ask people whom we just met, and which I will not anymore specify here. And then he continued to ask me more questions, one after another.)
Priest: Have you been practicing (he cited a
particular virtue)?
Francis: Yes.
Priest: Have you committed (he cited a particular
sin)?
Francis: No.
Priest: Have you committed (he cited another sin)?
Francis: No
Priest: Have you committed (he cited another sin)?
Francis: No
(My answers came
quick and easy, because I was telling the truth.)
(There was brief
silence.)
Priest: All right, I now absolve you, etc., etc. For your penance, say the Act of Contrition,
and then spend some time with the Blessed Sacrament.
Francis: Okay. So
do you want me to say the Act of Contrition here, now? How does it go? (I did not know how to say the Act of Contrition
because there are several versions. Note that the church has a
penchant for revising prayers and liturgy every so often. Even the most basic prayer, the “Ama Namin” (Our
Father), which is normally sung at Mass, has so many versions that oftentimes during Mass I am more preoccupied
recalling the right words and melody, rather than being able to focus on
praying the prayer itself. )
Priest: (Speaking with a tone of exasperation.) Okay repeat after me. “Lord Jesus…”
Francis: “Lord Jesus”
Priest: “I’m sorry for having sinned.”
Francis: “I’m sorry for having sinned.”
Priest: “I love you.”
Francis: “I love you.”
(And that was
it, it would have been easier and less awkward had he just told me to ask God for forgiveness with any prayer I could spontaneously come up with. We exchanged a few more words, and then I was
out of the confessional. I couldn’t wait
to get out.)
I sat on one of the pews and I
prayed. “Lord, what on earth was
that? I’ve been praying for a cleansing
and edifying confession since December, but right now I feel somewhat violated
more than anything.”
I
was very disappointed. Nonetheless I
tried to shake off the feelings of disappointment and frustration, and simply refocused
my attention to the rest of the Visita Iglesia.
ANALYSES
AND CONCLUSION
Regarding
the “correlation between the frequency of your visits to confession and the
number of sins that you recall,” quite frankly it sounded to me like the priest
was more concerned about compliance with rituals and traditions rather than my
well-being as a Christian and as a person.
Besides, although there is virtue in being cognizant of one’s own sins
and shortcomings, if you frequently recall your sins then there is the very
real danger of descending into a mental disorder of debilitating guilt-complex,
self-deprecation, self-rejection, and low self-esteem.
Moreover,
I think I already “confessed” more than enough.
“Worry,” “anxiety,” and the relevant “lack of faith” were already very
substantial and rich topics. We could
have discussed these "sins" at length, and very fruitfully at that, if only he was more
mature and competent as a confessor.
Also,
if I were in his shoes, I would have started the conversation with, “I’m very glad
that you finally came back to confession after all these years. Welcome back.
I wonder, is there any reason that it took you this long? Did anything discourage you from frequenting
confession? Would you like to talk about
it?”
As
regards the successive questions about my possible sins, there are two ways to
look at it, two very different ways:
-
One way to look at it is that he was
just helping me perform an examination of conscience, he was just helping me
recall the sins that I could not readily recall. In other words, he was just being helpful.
-
Another way to look at it is that he
assumed more power and authority than he had the right to wield. Not only was he condescending, he was also controlling. Come to think of it, he probed and interrogated
me at a very personal level, which is why I felt violated. Quite the opposite of being helpful.
The
way I see it, I can still give him the benefit of the doubt. After all, I do not know him, I am not
familiar with his track record as a priest and as a person, and therefore apart
from the brief encounter in the confessional I have no basis to form an opinion
or theory on whether or not he really meant well, in other words I do not know
his character. Thus, as I said, I can still give him the benefit of the doubt.
However, one thing is for sure, and that is the fact that he can still use more training. Helping me “perform an examination of
conscience” may actually be innocent and in some ways helpful, but there are
better ways, and I have already explained a couple of samples. We all owe it to ourselves,
and to the people we serve, to always pursue some form of education (through
self-study and/or formal graduate education) in order to continuously learn of
better ways of doing our jobs.
Truth
be told, in my observation, most priests (and even nuns) are in dire need of
training in Management and Counselling, among other things. Indeed, I am seriously considering this
concern for my doctoral dissertation. Come
to think of it therefore, it may have been an edifying confession after
all. But in a different and unexpected way.
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P.S.
