Confession

 A piece of me has been sometimes envious of the Catholic practice of confession.  I don’t know too much about it, but Catholic friends have often regaled me with stories of confessions they made as a kid.  They didn’t really understand what they would have to confess, so they would make up things.  Or, they would keep track of very minor infractions and report every single one with great contrition.  I know that people are cynical about the idea that you confess your sins and then say a few “Hail Mary’s” and you’re on your way.  But I do like the idea of confessing.  In general, it usually feels good, though complicated, to confess the truth to someone or to yourself.  It seems to me it’s all about truth-telling.  Not in order to get an absolution or a punishment, but in order to have the weight of carrying guilt lifted even if slightly.  Not so much to be absolved, because only I can absolve myself.  But to merely let the light of day shine on a clearer truth.  The idea that this practice is institutionalized seems healthy to me.  Truth-telling without self-blame.  Truth telling to an anonymous “other”.

Couldn’t we all learn to act with the humility that comes from knowing we are finite, fragile, incomplete.  From knowing that we will all make mistakes, or be wrong, or hurt someone else.  It’s simply the truth of being human.  And the possibility of confession sort of means that we usually can get another chance.  And even if we mess up again, which we will, we can still belong.  We can be reminded that we are still part of the human circle.  Confession is not about being forgiven as much as it is about the opportunity to tell the truth and to hear it ourselves.  We have already given ourselves self-punishment.  To be able to say out loud to another our “sin”,  gives it breathing room.  Allows us to hear it from our own lips. 

Here's some advice from the poet Chelan Harkin;

TRY HUMAN

Forget perfection.

Go for messy, learning

tender, whole.

Forget brand new.

Embrace cracked,

broken open, worn,

rich with story.

Forget polished.

Choose rusted,

textured, nuanced, real.

Pease cease

this intimidating flawlessness

and become generous

in sharing your sacred wound.

Forget Divine –

try human.

~Chelan Harkin Susceptible to Light