Confession
So the parish mission wrapped up last night. We only had time to get through the Book of Acts and didn’t touch any of the epistles. They had been saying there would be a penance service last night, with 30 priests available for confession after Walk Thru ended. Well, indeed, there were a bunch of priests available to hear confessions, but no penance service as such. That’s too bad, but it’s fine. The sacrament is the point, after all.
We hadn’t been in quite a while. Don’t remember exactly when the last time was. I know it was before Agent Murphy was born. Mr. Tldz thinks it may have been before we were married. Yeah, a long time in either case. It was helpful to have the nursery available for the Agent to make getting to confession a little easier.
It’s funny. I always dread going to confession. And then I go and it’s really not a big ordeal and I feel better afterwards. You’d think I’d learn… I’ve done my prescribed penance, and hopefully I can turn over a new leaf for Lent. Whenever I receive penance at confession, I’m reminded of the story of St. John Vianney, the patron saint of parish priests. He gained a reputation as a wonderful confessor and was known to hear confessions for 12+ hours per day. He received some criticism for being too lenient in the penances he gave. He is said to have said, “I give them what I think they can handle, and I do the rest myself.” I’ve often wondered, when I’m given what little penance I receive, if the priest is taking something on himself on my behalf. In persona Christi and all that.
Mr. Tldz had an honest to goodness Irish priest, with full brogue. I had a priest of some African extraction. Indeed, this Catholic church is catholic.