Taking the Weak Pulse of Confession-2

IS HEARING CONFESSIONS HARD WORK?

It has been 30 years since I last heard confessions, and my impression is that the logistics and pressures facing priests today are more intense than in my time. I can say that “yes, hearing confessions was personally consuming, but in an energetic sort of way. I am sure that the personality, spirituality, and theology of the priest has a lot to do with the spiritual and psychological blessings they receive in the sacramental encounter as well as their penitents.
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Whether hearing confession is a chore or a gift depends so much on a priest’s self-consciousness of what he is doing. Growing up, I was very fortunate to have had rather good confessional experiences in my parish. I do not recall my first confession, but I sure remember my second: a typical Saturday afternoon, long before Saturday vigil Masses, when our elderly monsignor-pastor spent several moments explaining to me that my parents’ rules and regulations were God’s ways of keeping me safe. A senior patient priest with spiritual advice for a seven-year-old kid! Not bad at all.

Later, around the fifth grade, I had my first “regular confessor,” whom I would regularly check in with on Saturday nights at just before 9 PM when the church closed, along with the sports fields behind it. I learned later that he was an active alcoholic, but even in his impaired state he was always kind and friendly. I was a happy camper with confession then, though I could not help but notice that I was the only kid going to confession after those Saturday night ball games. Sixty years later, the St. Mary’s Press/CARA/Georgetown study would conclude that “when asked at what age they no longer identified themselves as Catholic, 74 percent of the sample said between the ages of 10 and 20, with the median age being 13 years old.”

For a priest, confession can be a cross in certain circumstances: if he is an overly scrupulous individual who worries excessively about the judgments he makes regarding the severity of the sin he hears and/or the advice he gives; if spontaneous conversation is difficult for him; if the sheer numbers of people waiting in line pressure him into a brevity that he feels is disrespectful to the sacrament. This latter example is a particular issue on Saturday afternoons when the only priest in the parish is hearing confessions before Mass. Rather than disrespect the sacrament, at 4:50 I would gather the folks still in line around me, then acknowledge to them that they had the obvious intention of confessing, recommend that they return another time for personal confession, and that they had my permission to receive communion at the Mass just moments away. That was my own solution, but it reflected the professional attitudes of the moralists and canonists who taught me in major seminary, as well as my own instincts.

I would add one more point here. In very recent research I discovered that before Vatican II there were discussions in the United States on the practice of “devotional confessions,” or put another way, weekly or biweekly confessions with no serious sin. In every devotional book of the day, frequent confession was hailed as the practice of saints. However, by 1960 the ancient understanding of penance as “Biblically inspired conversion” was coming back, particularly among younger priests, who asked a fair question: can you turn your life around weekly? Moreover, confessors after 1960 were wrestling with the artificial birth control issue. Maria C. Morrow’s Sin in the Sixties [see my Amazon review, particularly pp. 191 ff] observed that in New Jersey in the 1960’s, if you believed the pill was OK morally, you confessed in Italian parishes; if you believed artificial contraception was wrong, you confessed in Irish churches. In my family’s parish in New York State everyone knew which priests to confess to if you were using the pill. Many priests were getting sick and tired of the birth control wars in confession. St. John Vianney probably had it right when he taught priests not to probe into the conjugal matters of married couples, lest the consciences of the faithful be troubled unnecessarily.  

MAY YOU ASK FOR ADVICE IN CONFESSION ABOUT A PERSONAL ISSUE?

Generally, yes. If a priest has the time to talk—that is, if there is not a long line of penitents behind you—feel free to raise an issue that is troubling your life. It does not have to be technically sinful matter. A parent might be worried about a son or daughter, for example. Now, if the same parent asked the same question of a psychotherapist, there are fifty minutes on the clock to work it through. [And some issues require multiple therapeutic meetings or sessions.] Public parish hours for confession do not usually allow the priest the time for lengthy personal advice. If the question is complex, the priest may suggest that you call the office and make an appointment with him at a time when he can provide 30-60 minutes of guidance in the office. Or he might suggest you consult a Catholic professional counselor, possibly with Catholic Charities. [In one of my parishes, I had two psychotherapists on my staff.] The priest is not putting you off; rather, he is attempting to provide the depth of attention you deserve.

I should add, too, that the priest might suggest in confession reputable self-help programs such as Alcoholics Anonymous.

ARE THERE SINS A PRIEST CANNOT ABSOLVE?

Yes. First, a priest cannot hear confessions just anywhere [except in danger of death.] On the afternoon of my ordination, my superior walked up to me at the post-Mass reception, poked me in the chest, and said: “You have faculties.” A priest must have formal “faculties” or authority from his bishop to minister in a diocese. I had not thought about faculties then, and I had planned to spend the next five days celebrating Eucharist and hearing confessions at the schools and parishes where I had led youth retreats in the D.C. area. Good thing my superior took care of it. It is true that religious order priests such as the Franciscans have “special privileges” dating to the Middle Ages; in 1974 when I was ordained, Franciscan priests could absolve the sin of procuring or facilitating an abortion, for example, which normally was a “reserved sin.”

[Some states require a civil “faculty” for marriages, too. In 1975 I performed a wedding at Georgetown’s Trinity Church while living at Siena College in Albany, and I had to pay the District of Columbia $15 for a minister’s license!]

But there is a catalogue of sins, “reserved sins,” which incur a latæ sententiæ penalty, immediate excommunication. In some cases, a local bishop, having examined the situation, can lift the excommunication. But in other cases, the bishop must petition Rome for guidance on how to proceed. Here is a list of “reserved sins:”

Apostasy, heresy, schism [leaving the Church by a formal, public act]
Violation of consecrated species [consecrated bread and wine]
Physical attack on a pope or bishop
A priest who absolves an accomplice in sexual sin
Unauthorized ordination of a bishop
Direct violation by a confessor of the seal of confession
Anyone who reveals the overheard confession of another
Pretended celebration of the Eucharist by a non-priest
Attempt to hear confession by one who cannot validly do so
False accusation of the crime of solicitation in the confessional
Attempted marriage by a religious or cleric
Formal cooperation in abortion

[I hasten to add that the “attempted marriage by a cleric” applies only to non-laicized priests. I have my letter from Pope John Paul II, and I receive a pledge kit every year for the Bishop’s Appeal, so I was never excommunicated. Do it by the book.]
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There is an office or “dicastery” in Rome, the Apostolic Penitentiary, which ministers to all penitential issues of this sort.
 
I will return to the Confession questions in about two weeks. If you have any questions or topics in this theme, feel free to send them along to [email protected]