This is about childhood, the notions of Sin, Love, God—and a brief comment on the all-male priesthood…send hate mail straight to my trash folder, please.
I’ve given formal retreats and provided direction for older men and younger women, including a few priests. But I’ve never understood or made sense the notion that 6- or 7-year-old children should formally go to confession. I get the value of forgiveness and the relevance of the vast eternal Catechism questions: whatever one’s belief or unbelief, those are intriguing life-long questions that could occupy some deeper realms of a conscious, balanced mind. What a wonderful world where some Creative Generosity, by whatever name, where the All wishes us to know who we are, to See and Love ourselves and each other as truly, as compassionately and completely as the Great Spirit Sees and Loves us. But compulsory childhood confession or “reconciliation,” as they’ve politically corrected it, stumped me when I was young and still does. Honestly, how much “sin” worthy of “Confession” is a kid really capable of? And if there’s more than a bit, then that’s a child who might need more than a few minutes with an old priest who’s snoring, or a young one who’s otherwise distracted.
I shouldn’t get started on all that—there are some very good and devoted priests, I know. Not that the non-egalitarian social injustice of an all-male priesthood is something I care to keep faith with or tithe into. But skipping to Confession: I’ve done it, and it was dark and scary. I was frightened by the little black room, the screened window between us, and but the Father’s strict reputation and epic flatulence. I left with my penance, and since then haven’t darkened any other old priest’s day with any more of my deadly sins.