First Confession

Last Saturday my second grade daughter made her First Confession. She was nervous for weeks until she had her act of contrition memorized – I think she was afraid the confession wouldn’t work unless she memorized it. So she must have been a little disappointed when the priest didn’t ask her to say it.

This is the third church where we’ve been for sacraments. Actually, seventh, if you count baptisms. (After the first three boys were baptized at three different churches, we had the other three kids baptized at my parents’ little country church, so that if we ever lose our baptismal certificates and have to locate them for First Communion and weddings or perpetual vows, we’ll know where to find them. So it is interesting to note how each parish does things a little differently.

Our oldest first went to confession at a parish that had a big reconciliation service with a formal liturgy and about half a dozen priests and cake and punch afterward. At the church where our second and third boys had First Reconciliation, families signed up for specific time slots, then 2 or 3 families would gather on a Saturday afternoon, the DRE would lead a brief reflection, and then everyone went to confession with our pastor. At first I thought this was anti-climactic for a “celebration”, but the more I thought about it, the more I believe it helped ‘normalize’ confession, because it more closely resembled what going to confession is like.

This most recent celebration was a mix. Although all the kids were there with their families, and something like 9 priests, about half of them Irish, since this used to be an Irish mission destination, the ritual lacked the pageantry – music, reflections, candles lit after each child finished confessing. But it would have had some of the contemplative feel of the second, if the people behind us hadn't been carrying on a conversation. Some of the children read scripture or intentions, after which our pastor gave a homily in which he thanked the fathers for coming. He was making the point that fathers need to be spiritual leaders, but I wonder if he made a misstep by mentioning Jewish and Muslim fathers as good examples. I’m not sure some in the congregation would want to emulate these patriarchal communities – you could almost hear the hackles rising. But I applaud him for encouraging fathers to take a more active role in their families’ faith lives.

After his promotion of fatherly spiritual leadership, he led the children in an examination of conscience. “Is it wrong to steal?” he asked.

“Yes!” they all answered.

“Is it wrong to lie?”

“Yes!”

“Is it wrong to fight with your brothers and sisters?”

“Yes!”

“Is it wrong to miss Mass on Sunday?”

“No!”

Clearly, some more catechesis is necessary. 


But on the positive side, a number of parents went to confession after the children. And there was time for all of us to be shriven before my husband’s departure. So he departed with a clean conscience a couple of days later, although I suppose he experienced more than one moment of parental frustration between Saturday and Monday. Fortunately, there is a chaplain assigned to the base where he is stationed. Not every base has one. The chaplain corps is always recruiting. And they seem to attract good men.