Since becoming Catholic last Spring, I’ve had opportunity to think about what’s been gained by swimming the Tiber, as well as what’s been lost—by which I mean things about my former religious life and culture that Catholics just don’t understand or do. My post a few weeks back about the absence of a contemporary Catholic music scene was one of those. This post is about an addition: the confessional.
I admit I anticipated this part of Catholic life with some trepidation. On the other hand, I had never sensed a great deal of settled reconciliation with the Almighty in solitary, silent, mental confession. Which meant forgiveness took on the form of a circadian rhythm of sorts. I would feel bad about things for a day, confess silently, and then wake up the next morning having largely put behind me whatever it was that I had blundered the day before. Although a good night’s rest seemed to sufficiently shelve yesterday’s misdeeds, I don’t know that the divine economy actually works like that.
Alas, that approach is no more. Now confession is spoken, in real time, and it occurs when I go and actually do it. The psychological difference between a silent and a spoken confession is like night and day.
Lots of Christians are a part of accountability groups, of course. [Read more…]