Purely Anti-Social

Someone has been going around torching covered bridges in the Midwest, according to a story in today's Chicago Tribune:

In the southeastern Iowa town of Delta, someone set fire to the 136-year-old covered bridge over the North Skunk River last month, destroying the span and jeopardizing Delta's claim, proudly displayed on its water tower, as "Home of the Covered Bridge."

Four days later, a fire was started on another Iowa bridge, this one located outside Winterset, the setting of the movie "The Bridges of Madison County." But that one was only damaged, because a passerby grabbed a 5-gallon bucket from the trunk of his car and extinguished the blaze.

Granted, compared to the War in Iraq, Abortion, etc., this isn't the biggest problem in the universe, but this is the kind of crap that gets me seething.

If someone robs a bank, or kills grandma for the insurance money, or cheats people in a stock-fraud scheme, those crimes are understandable from a purely materialistic perspective. Heck, even Terri Schiavo's husband's efforts to get her killed, are in a sense, understandable: he wants to collect the cash and get hitched to his live-in honey, and poor Terri is in the way.

But a crime like burning down a covered bridge? That kind of crime has purely anti-social motivations. It's either taking delight in destruction for its own sake, or seeking to deprive others of some good thing. As such, it's a crime of a much more spiritual nature than those I mentioned above.

It seems to me that, because such crimes are anti-social in nature, people who commit such crimes should be subjected to public, social punishments. I really think that punishments such as The Stocks and The Pillory are perfect for such crimes. People need to be confronted with the social cost of their crimes, and face the people they have damaged by their anti-social acts.

Some may denounce such punishments as "medieval" or "cruel"? But just because something is old doesn't mean it's wrong. And which is more cruel? To endure a day or two of public humiliation, or to sit in jail for months or years, and risk coming out a more hardened criminal, or being the vicitm of more serious criminals in prison? And it seems to me that the use of something like the Stocks might actually have a more bracing effect on a person than less immediate punishments.

Which "Rock" Would That Be?

The Lutheran church down the street bought an adjoining lot and built a little house on it for the use of its Youth Ministry. All well and good, and a noble effort I'm sure.

But I can't help but chuckle when I drive by it: Those loveable Lutherans have named the house "The Solid Rock." And under the name they have quoted Matthew 16:18: "Upon this rock I will build my church..."

If I were a smart aleck, I might ask them, "Just which 'Rock' did you mean there? Hmmm?" And I might then ask them, "Just which 'church' did you mean there? Ehh?"

Funny, I don't recall Martin Luther being among twelve apostles. So just who might Jesus have been talking to? Who was that rock? And what did the Church built on that rock call itself for 1400 years (and even to this day)? Just what makes that "rock" so "solid", anyway?

Of course, I'm not a smart aleck, so I wouldn't dream of saying such things...

Face-to-Face Confession?

Several people, both in my previous blog, and over on Amy's blog, have speculated that the availability of the Sacrament of Penance only in the face-to-face form is one reason for the decline in the use of the sacrament. I'm not sure about that, but what I am sure of is that the penitent should always have the option of going anonymously.

I've never encountered a confessional or "reconciliation chapel" which only permitted face-to-face confession, but gathering from your comments, such things must exist out there. If they do, they shouldn't. I quote from the relevant Canon:

Canon 964, s.1: The proper place for hearing sacramental confessions is a church or oratory.

s.2: As far as the confessional is concerned, norms are to be issued by the Bishop's Conference, with the proviso however that [emphasis added] confessionals, fitted with a fixed grille between the penitent and the confessor, always be available in an open place, so that the faithful who so wish may freely use them.

The canon makes clear, and I was, accordingly, taught in the seminary, that the penitent should always have the option of going to confession anonymously. Even at penance services and the like, when rooms not constructed as confessionals are put to use as such, I always arrange the priest's and penitent's chairs in such a way that the penitent can confess anonymously. It's simply the right of every Catholic to be able to do so at his/her discretion, not at the discretion of the priest.

Going to Confession

Amy Welborn blogged the other day about a very good Washinton Post article about the sacrament of Penance. Some of the comments there are especially enlightening.

A priest, Rev. William Byrne, chaplain at the University of Maryland's College Park campus, is having great success in popularizing the sacrament among college students:

"We have pretty solid lines, probably 30 kids on Sundays before Mass," he said. "The thing that makes me mad is hearing 40- to 60-year-old Catholics talk about 'Catholic guilt' " in the context of confession, said Byrne, who is 39. "I say that's baloney. We're the only ones who have sacramentalized the system of offering absolution and forgiveness for sin. Our emphasis is forgiveness."

I too have heard similar remarks about "Catholic guilt". Usually it comes from lapsed Catholics. I think in many cases that the phrase "Catholic guilt" isn't so much expressing feelings of guilt they're carrying around from the days when they were practicing Catholics, as much as the guilt they're carrying around today, as lapsed Catholics, for all the sins they haven't confessed, and their conscience nagging at them for drifting away from the Faith.

I note the fact that Fr. Byrne and I are the same age, and have a similar reaction to suggestions of "Catholic guilt". Perhaps it's a generational thing. I have no doubt that some people have had bad experiences, in which a priest berated them in the confessional. I hope such people can get past that experience to know the healing touch of Christ. We (that's you and me) have a duty to reach out to those people and reinvite them to the Sacrament of Christ's healing.

I consider the Sacrament of Penance one of the greatest gifts ever given to me. I can say with absolute confidence that I would not be a priest today without the many graces I have gained from it. In fact, I can point to one particular confession as an event which prompted me to start thinking about the priesthood.

I was in college, and had gone through what I call a "bad" period. I was beginning to take my faith more seriously: I had started again going to Mass regularly, and got involved in things like a bible study at the college parish. But I knew things weren't really "right" between God and me. I avoided thinking about it for a while (I hadn't gone to confession since 7th grade), but gradually the conviction grew that I had to go to confession. Luckily the college parish offered confessions every afternoon. So I went, and after a nervous beginning I just poured it all out. The priest's counsel was outstanding. He managed in a few minutes to help me to see the self-destructiveness of sin, and how Christ was inviting me to really and truly live again in Him. In that experience I really learned what mercy meant, and how much of that mercy was given to me. That priest later became my spiritual director, and was of great help to me in discerning my vocation.

I too firmly believe that confession needs to be offered frequently. It seems to me that for a parish to offer confessions "by appointment" only is to implicitly begrudge people the sacrament. The only time I ever say no to hearing someone's confession is if it's less than 10 minutes before I have to celebrate Mass: I need that time to prepare for Mass. But even then I urge the person to see me right after Mass. I say this not to take credit for myself. I think that is simply my duty as a priest.

There has been, in recent years, much talk of a loss of the "sense of sin" among Catholics. I don't know which Catholics are meant by that, but I can assure you that in my experience that attitude certainly isn't to be found in young people. I find them to be very aware of their sinfulness and need for forgiveness. I remember once, shortly after I was ordained, I went to Notre Dame to visit a friend who was on the faculty there. It was a fine evening and we were enjoying a walk around campus before we went to dinner, when we walked by the Basilica of the Sacred Heart. I noticed that confessions were scheduled to be offered in a few minutes, and decided on the spur of the moment to go. I took my place near the confessional, where there were about 8-9 college students waiting. The appointed time for confessions came and went, and no priest showed up. After waiting till ten minutes after the hour, and observing the students getting visibly restless, I resolved to step into the breach. I was dressed in "civvies", so I announced, "I 'm a visiting priest, and if the priest who's scheduled doesn't show up in the next 5 minutes, I'll hear your confessions." Well, he didn't show, so I stepped into the confessional. It was one of the most uplifting experiences I had had up to that time. Those students so clearly desired Christ's mercy, so obviously wanted holiness, and the means by which to become holy, that it "blew me away". Don't mistake me: they were in many senses typical college students, with the sins you might expect from them. But they knew their sinfulness, and wanted better. They were so open to what advice I could give them, it was humbling to me. I saw the power of the sacrament at work in them.

I went to confession frequently as a seminarian, and still do now. I usually go to confession about once a week. I tell people, if they ask me, that I go frequently because "If I skip confession for more than a week, I notice the difference. If I go for more than two weeks, my parishioners will notice the difference. If I go for more than three weeks without confession, everyone will notice the difference.

While in the seminary I learned a lot about the sacrament of confession, and in my final year there my classmates and I even "practiced" hearing confessions. But nothing could really prepare me for what a grace and blessing it is to hear confessions and be the minister of the sacrament as a priest. I have seen people come in to the confessional weighed down and oppressed by sin, and leave with tears of joy streaming down their faces. I have heard women confess the sin of abortion, and offered them the tender touch of Christ's forgiveness, and the possibility of knowing love and life once again. I have heard men confess terrible sins that were long hidden, which had shrunk and vitiated their lives, and seen them emerge whole and more nearly men again. And I have heard the confessions of men and women whose love for God, selflessness, and zeal for Christ have been so strking that, in hearing them, I thought "this person is a Saint, I have no doubt of it." Those people have left me humbled and grateful when they walked out.

Next to celebrating Mass, and holding Our Eucharistic Lord in my unworthy hands, the greatest privilege and grace I have is to be able to hear confessions and, acting in the person of Christ, be his instrument of mercy and forgiveness.