Chapter XXX: Scruples of the Good Concerning Confession

IF the enemy of our souls strives to keep sinners away from Confession by magnifying its difficulties, he endeavors also to discourage and harass the penitent who frequents the Sacrament by groundless fears and scruples.

These scruples and torments are either in reference to the declaration of their sins, or their dispositions in regard to them. Such persons feel so deeply the importance of salvation that they desire to have a certainty about it which is not good for them, nor according to the holy will of God, that they should have.

Though such fears are natural, they must be put aside, and not dwelt upon nor made much of, when they stand in the way of our peace of mind, or the real, genuine love of God. I will say something about them that you may understand their nature, and the folly of them.

There are some who are always tormented lest they should have omitted something in their confessions. They seem to fancy that if by any chance a considerable sin should entirely escape their memories and never come up again, it would remain unforgiven, and appear against them at the judgment. Just as if God, the Infinite Goodness, could ever condemn any one for what was not his own fault! Such an idea is entirely absurd.

No doubt, a good girl when she first begins to enter seriously into God’s service will do her best to have a clear conscience, and will not willingly allow any considerable sins to remain unconfessed. But one confession made with such intention is enough to put her in a state of grace, as everything that can hinder God’s grace is removed by a sincere and contrite confession.

After such a confession it is God’s will that we should be free from all over-anxiety about our salvation, and it is contrary to His will that we should worry and fret, and be troubled in mind. If we have forgotten anything of importance, it does not make us lose God’s grace. We should remain in the utmost tranquillity until the next confession, when the forgotten sin can be declared; for although it is forgiven, it is necessary to confess it, if it has not been confessed already.

Again: many give themselves much more anxiety about the examination of their consciences than is necessary. Of course, all grievous sins must be confessed, but a good girl will hate and abhor such sins so much that I suppose she will rarely, if ever, fall into them. I suppose, if she has unfortunately sinned in such a way, that she will immediately enter into herself and grieve over it, and be only too anxious to confess it. As soon as she begins to prepare for confession, it will be uppermost in her mind, and there will be no danger of her forgetting it.

As to smaller sins, our examination of conscience need not be scrupulous and anxious; on the contrary, it ought to be entirely tranquil and peaceful. Think over your sins and faults, and be as sorry for them as you please; that is all very well; but do not imagine that the chief good of confession is in being sure not to leave out anything.

This is not the case. If you are sorry for everything that displeases God, and declare all your grievous sins, and such of the others as you deem most hurtful and injurious, you do well — and better than if your whole mind were set on a minute and particular declaration of every small matter.

Sometimes, while the priest is speaking to you of something very important to your soul, some danger you must avoid, or some practice of piety he sees useful to you, he will be interrupted in the very middle of his advice by something like this: “I neglected my morning prayers sometimes”; or, “I have been out of patience”; or, “I have been fretful.”

This is making confession a matter of form, and forgetting the spirit of it; like the Pharisees of old, who put everything in the most minute observance of the smallest ceremonies, while they paid little attention to really cleansing and purifying their hearts from attachment to sin.

Your time is better employed in sorrow and regret for what is wrong and defective, in holy resolutions to amend your lives, and to give your hearts to God more perfectly, than in a scrupulous and over-anxious examination of conscience.

In the same way, the desire to be constantly repeating over confessions that have been already well made seems to me calculated to do no good, but rather to keep the mind in constant trouble and anxiety, when it ought to be putting a loving trust in God. It is making God “a hard master,” exacting to the last farthing, when in truth He is a kind Father and has long ago forgiven us.

There is a secret pride about it, too, as if it were by our own force and strength that we were to look for forgiveness, and not in the loving mercy of God.