A QUESTION OF FAITH
Through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault.
The mass disperses, the congregation moves as one to the grand church doors, but you stay firmly planted in your seat until you are sure you are alone. You make your way to the confessional, etched with cherubs in dark wood, and the heels of your boots create a vast echo amidst the otherwise empty room.
You step inside, the priest ready at the other end; he was expecting you. Your sins fall from your lips like moths flock to bright light.
“A repeat offender,” the priest remarks, recognizing the cadence of your voice, among other things. While you are grateful for the opaque screen between the two of you, it seems as though your identity is not as hidden as you might have previously hoped.
“It appears so, Father.” You grimace at the pathetic whine in your voice, wringing your hands in tow. “How do I proceed from here? It seems as though confessing has not resolved the issue.”
The priest can be heard sighing, possibly in resignation or perhaps in disbelief, you can’t be sure. You continue to speak, not letting him answer just yet.
“How can I know that my sins are wrong when you will continue to forgive them on behalf of God?” You take a deep breath, dropping your head into your hands. “God asks me to confess my sins, but then I am free to commit them again.”
He is silent then. His dry lips open, peeling to make that distinct sound as they did so, to say, “It seems you are questioning your faith, and to that effect I am afraid I cannot offer counsel. To entertain such an idea would merely compound on your other transgressions.”
With that, it is evident that confession is over. There is no reprieve, no encouragement to pray fifty times or to offer alms to the church.
You dare to question the practice of confession and wonder why it does not work for you. You fail to consider that the only weight that is lifted, is not one of sin, but rather of your own heart, to have confessed and received counsel, to have been heard, and promised that despite everything, you shall be forgiven.
Sherine Elali, 20, Bay Area, California - USA ✯