Confession Gets It Off Your Chest

I never thought I’d need sunblock to go to Confession. But that’s what happens if Confession takes place in the middle of the third base grandstand at New Britain Stadium on a sunny Saturday at the end of September.

The Connecticut Catholic Men’s Conference was a rousing success this year. The camaraderie of 500 guys spending the day together was great. The four keynote speakers were dynamic. The concluding Mass celebrated by Archbishop Leonard Blair in front  of the pitcher’s mound was wonderful.

However, the best feature of the Conference, by far, was seeing at least 15 priests scattered throughout the grandstand hearing confessions. There was a steady line of dozens and dozens of men patiently waiting for a spot to open up. By the time the Conference was done, well over half of the 500 men present received the supernatural grace of this powerful Sacrament. 

It was a beautiful sight, and I also saw a couple of men walk away from the makeshift confessionals with tears of gratitude and relief in their eyes. There probably were more men like this, but I couldn’t see them clearly because of the tears of gratitude and relief in my eyes.

When it was my turn for Confession, the first sin I confessed was: “I spent the past 20 months using the pandemic as a poor excuse for avoiding Confession.” And if you’re waiting for me to list all the other sins I confessed, don’t hold your breath. That’s between God and me.

When I say my Confession was between God and me, you might reply, “But wait a minute. What about the priest? He heard your sins, so he’s involved, too.”

Well, that is true in one sense. But during the Sacrament of Confession, the priest is acting in persona christi, which is Latin for “In the person of Christ.” The priest, by virtue of his ordination, is the conduit through which the graces of God flow. 

Some people insist that an ordained priest and a formal ritual are not necessary to confess sins. A person can sincerely pray to God, express remorse for sinful thoughts and deeds, and ask for forgiveness. There’s no doubt God is so loving and compassionate that He hears these prayers and responds.

But the Church, in her wisdom, teaches that the Sacrament of Confession (also known as Reconciliation) is the optimal way to be forgiven, not for God’s sake or the priest’s sake, but for OUR sake.

You see, when we speak our failings and faults out loud to another person, rather than silently in our minds during private prayer, we really get it off our chest. There is no doubt in our mind whether God heard us or forgave us. When the priest audibly offers the prayer of absolution, we hear it; we know it’s true; and we know we’ve been forgiven. There is no doubt that God, working through His priest, has forgiven us.

That’s why there were tears of gratitude and relief in the eyes of so many men at the Conference. We knew God heard us and we knew we were forgiven. It’s a joyous feeling to have that weight finally lifted off your shoulders.

So, it was a great day, and the best part was the supernatural grace of forgiveness conferred through the Sacrament of Confession. And even though all the men present that day know this particular fact, I’m going to say it here anyway: Confession is available every weekend at your local parish, not just once a year at the Men’s Conference. Keep that in mind if you realize the weight of sin is dragging you down. Don’t delay until next year (or in my case, 20 long months). Go to Confession soon!

One other interesting thing happened at the Conference. I ran into Archbishop Blair just as he was arriving to say Mass. We chatted briefly, and then he saw my baseball hat, which I always wear when at a ballpark (and pretty much everywhere else, too). He asked what the red “B” stood for. Now, I know the archbishop grew up in the Midwest and is a Detroit Tigers fan. But he’s been in New England long enough now that he should know these things. I said to him, in a somewhat shocked voice, “It stands for the Boston Red Sox, of course.”

No doubt the archbishop has a very busy and important job. But if you are located exactly halfway between New York and Boston, smack dab in the middle of the hottest rivalry in sports, there are certain things you just have to know. I’m pretty sure the Archbishop needs to go to Confession about that one.