Case LXIV: Confessions of the Clergy

Two points seem to us very important, if matters are to be improved, viz., the place where the confession is made, and frankness on the part of the penitent.

Let us consider first the need of frankness. Confidence begets confidence, and what comes from the heart goes to the heart, and calls forth the right sentiments and the right words. It is not easy for every one to speak frankly to another, even to a confessor. We all like to keep our innermost thoughts secret, and to confess them frankly is more difficult to one who is otherwise on terms of friendly intimacy with his confessor. Nevertheless he must do so, if both confessor and penitent are to do their parts successfully and to their own satisfaction. We require frankness of our penitents. What can we find to say to a person who always accuses himself of trifles that are as a rule things which are scarcely matter for the Sacrament? Can we rouse him to the pursuit of virtue? This is often a difficult task if he lives an ordinary life, doing nothing particularly bad or particularly good. A priest is in a similar case who always accuses himself of having said his prayers without devotion, of having committed small faults in the administration of the Sacraments, and of having given way to vain thoughts, but never mentions such things as envy of his confratres, neglect of important duties belonging to his position, such as carelessness about study, indifference to his schools and teachers, want of zeal in instructing his people, etc. A confessor, if he felt that he was being treated with confidence, would often find it possible to single out some point as a subject for admonition.

I do not mean to imply that priests as a rule make bad preparation for confession, but that by force of habit they are apt to make mistakes and omissions, which they almost overlook, if they are not accustomed to be frank with their confessor.

If a priest is in all important matters a faithful servant and an honest steward,—and this is generally the case,—there are still manyways in which he may attain greater perfection. Some one perhaps feels in his heart a real desire to practise some virtue or to impose upon himself some mortification; why does he not speak of this desire to his best friend and counselor in the confessional? It would give the confessor an opportunity for giving useful advice. Confession should be not only a means of purification, it should be in the highest degree a means of sanctification. I must admit that it is not easy to be frank. The difficulty was felt even by St. Teresa.

Frankness is essential for one who really strives to follow Christ, as it is no easy matter to guide oneself to perfection. Man must be guided by man. We often say this to others, and they may retort: " Physician, heal thyself; do thyself what thou dost counsel others to do." Imagine a physician who would write a prescription after scarcely seeing the patient. If he is to treat him successfully, he must begin by making an exact diagnosis of his case, and asking the sick man to explain cause and symptoms of his malady. A confessor can do a great deal to encourage a confrater who seems reserved, and to help him to make not only a good confession, but one that will be really helpful to him. All the banal and meaningless phrases will then fall away of their own accord; they are things to which the penitent pays hardly any attention.

If we are to promote frankness and give an opportunity for instruction, encouragement, and admonition, we must be careful about the place where the confession is made.

A young priest told me lately how he and his friend managed. They lived in a large town with a very mixed population. Every three or four weeks they went to the priest of another church, and he generally guessed what they came for, and went into an adjoining room. First one went in and made his confession, and then the other. There were no admonitions, corrections, or instructions at all. Immediately after their confessions, the confessor called to his servant to bring refreshments, and a comfortable gossip followed the brief confession.

It is not a good plan to make one's confession in the priest's room; it is far better to make it in the church or sacristy. What does it matter if there are other people in the church? There is no harm in their seeing priests go to confession. Priests are frail mortals like themselves, and to see them confessing their sins and shortcomings to God's representative tends to edification. If any one objects to being seen, let him choose the sacristy. In the seminary all of us, alumni as well as young priests, had to go to confession every week at the same time and place as other people. One or two objected to it, but it had to be done, and certainly the plan had its advantages.

Many priests make it a rule to spend some time in silent recollection before the tabernacle, and then to go home, without entering the confessor's house. This can easily be done in a town or village where there are several churches and priests. Others make their thanksgiving in the church and then visit their friend and confessor. There can be no harm in this, especially if they have come some considerable distance, and need refreshment for soul and body.

In a time like the present, when shallowness and worldliness prevail, we priests must strive above all things to be " good salt." A good confession on the part of a priest will certainly help the salt to retain its savor.