Backstory
When I was a kid, I learned that some of my friends were “Catholic” – and one of the things that meant was, beginning at a certain age (this was a long long time ago, so specific age numbers haven’t stayed with me), they had to begin going to “confession.” This meant that once a week they had to go to their church, go into a cubicle or closet of some sort, and in that place somehow there was a wooden ‘screen’ behind which a priest was hidden, but he could hear you. And your job was to “make your Confession.”
Now, as a Methodist kid, and even the son of a Methodist preacher, this serious confession stuff was out of my ballpark. And my Dad had little or nothing to say about it, either. But, as my friends would describe it, you would kneel in that cubicle and tell the Priest all the things you had done wrong. That was the rule. The Priest’s job then was to somehow pass that information on to God, who would in turn come up with a proper punishment, which was called a “penance.” I never heard what kind of thing a penance was, other than to say the “Lord’s Prayer” a number of times, and usually a few “Hail Marys.” But as I recall, it had something to do with then having permission to attend Mass that weekend.
What I also somehow recall was a friend telling me he couldn’t think of anything he’d done wrong during the week (i.e., ‘sinned’) so to have a story for the Priest, he stole a candy bar from his sister, and ate it. And that apparently worked! After all these years, I still have that memory.
But I remained impressed (not horrified, just impressed) that to be Catholic, sin was necessary, acted, catalogued, confessed (repented) and ultimately balanced out. (There are much richer traditions among the Roman Catholics, but it took me years later to realize that.)
My Own Backstory
So recently, I spent some memory-time recalling how my parents taught me (and my siblings) to pray. I would kneel on the floor by my bed, a parent kneeling beside me, and basically accomplish two things. 1) recite what I was thankful for that day, and 2) ask a blessing upon each member of my family (it was a small family). I could also include my dog Tippy. I have no recall of any cataloging of sins, it just wasn’t that important (maybe they were too embarrassed to inquire, but I’m sure that wasn’t the case). Prayer was more an exercise of Grace and Gratitude – becoming the frame and undertone of my relationship with God, for the rest of my life.
My life as a “sinner.”
Oh yes, I’ve not been the perfect child (or adult).
Three memories (just for the record):
1) As an adolescent, one Halloween, from a local creamery, I set out a half dozen empty 15-gallon steel milk containers, to block a side street. But I felt guilty and returned within an hour (after dark) to remove them.
2) Once, also in that same adolescence, I stole a steel padlock from a local hardware store. And I recall what great pains it took to return it without getting caught. I guess I didn’t need a confession to activate an already pretty healthy moral compass.
3) In High School, I drove a girl home from a youth group meeting, I had taken what I considered very minor liberties in my car – whereupon she insisted we do a late-night visit to her pastor’s home. She simply described it to him as “something St. Paul would be against.” I have no memory of how he responded, but I recall feeling mortified. I never gave her a ride home again. But it did leave a minor wound.
As a side note, in retrospect, I’m sure there have been women friends who’d have wished I’d not always been so reticent.
4) And a fourth. When I was preparing for my ordination to the Episcopal Priesthood, I spent a week in retreat at a monastery in SW Michigan – during which I undertook a real formal Confession. As I recall, the most I could come up with were in the general territory of libido and sexual fantasy. I’m sure old Fr. Leonard was bored. And I have absolutely no memory of his Absolution, which I think is supposed to be the highlight of it all.
Resolution
There’s so much more I can write on this subject, and perhaps some day I will.
But in recent years, my prayer life has matured from the rich beginning in the graceful roots of my parents’ household.
Now, in my spiritual elderhood, I do nightly prayers generally based in the Episcopal Book of Common Prayer service of Compline – known as the Church’s Night Prayers – with personal additions. And so each night, with great comfort, I will recite the General Confession and its prayer for Absolution. I have long enjoyed the liturgical richness of the Episcopal/Anglican tradition. And what is this great comfort?
Does God love the sinner? Of course, the answer is yes. Does he love the human non-sinner? The technical answer in our tradition is that none other than his son Jesus can fit that definition. Or, another way to say it is, it is perhaps laudable to desire to be sinless, but anathema to fully perfect or accomplish it. And the only human resolution to that enigma is that I am loved “as I am.” And my personal confession only ratifies that. That is the ultimate comfort. God is most comfortable with our confession, because it allows him to deeply love us, which is his own ultimate nature – even though it may cause him pain.
The Mystery of the Book of Job
Someday, maybe soon, I’m feeling the need to take a few days and read again the Old Testament Book of Job. It’s the closest I’ve ever come to an insight into this mystery of sin, and its resolution. Job did everything right (not that he was sinless, he just did everything right). Yet God was free to punish him as if that were not so. And Job (to his credit) never wavered from proclaiming his innocence. Then finally from God came the ultimate ‘reprimand’ – which I have heard summarized as
“I am God, and you are not!”
Two things then happened, in this order:
1 Job was summarily silenced (confessing an ignorance he could never overcome), and
2 God gave Job a special blessing – in that ancient Hebrew literary tradition – by returning double everything that had been taken from him.P
To which I attribute a divine joy emanating from on each side.
For the young Catholic, Confession can lead to a ritual recitation of two high Biblical acclamations – The Lord’s Prayer, and The Hail Mary. And at another level, for us, it can also be the silence (absence) of any condemnation, and moments from the heavens above, as well as, from within our most human of hearts, there can emerge a divine music.
Afterthought
I bless my parents, and some other of the world’s sacred traditions, that have in various ways handed on to me this particular treasure.
As is my custom, I invite you to
Pay attention
Bill McDonald
August 6, 2026