Confession consists in asking forgiveness, repentant for the offenses committed against our Father, and in making a firm decision not to offend him again, all of this for one essential reason: because we love him. And even if we did not love him, we should do it out of fear of disobeying the King of kings. Our God and Father, like a natural father, encounters three kinds of children: bad, acceptable, and good, each of whom offends in a different way and should confess in a different way. Let us consider each case:
a) The bad child. He is the one who habitually steals from his father, mistreats him, lies to him, does not obey him; what is more serious, he ignores him, does not care for him, and is even ashamed of him. In a word: he does not love him. For this one the negative commandments seem to have been made: do not kill, do not lie, do not steal… and for this one the little books that deal with confessions in general seem to have been made. These are extreme cases, but relatively frequent. For a good child, who adores his father, it is incomprehensible that these commandments should be imposed on him. Can we imagine a very good husband because he does nothing wrong? All day long sitting, walking, or sleeping: he does not steal, he does not kill, he does not lie, no, no, no… At the end of the month, if he has not worked, if he has done nothing good, his wife will ask him for money to support the house and the children. If he does not bring it, his wife will send him packing—for being good! I have an ashtray that does no harm to anyone, and I do not think it will go to heaven.
b) The acceptable child. He is the one who seldom offends gravely. We cannot say that he does anything bad, nor hardly anything good. That is, he does not steal much, nor hit him, nor lie in serious cases; he obeys from time to time and lends a hand at work once in a blue moon. Nevertheless, he barely knows that his father exists; he does not help him, nor speak to him with a smile; he grumbles at him, barely looks at him, is not attentive to his wishes, never thinks of giving him a little gift on his saint’s day or birthday, and hardly directs a kind word to him. In short, the father feels isolated, unloved, and useful only for giving money, shelter, and food. The use of the little books also suits this one well.
c) The good child. For him the negative commandments have not been promulgated, since it does not even occur to him to steal from his father, wound him, lie to him, disobey him, or fail to be attentive to him. He truly loves his father. His sins are measured by his love, not by his offenses. In confession, the little books are of no use to him. In them, lack of love is not considered a sin, and this lack is almost the only one he can commit: not loving him enough would be his sin, because for love there are no limits. His confession would be: I did not speak to him affectionately, I did not listen to him attentively, my tongue ran away with me and I spoke loudly to him, I did not give him the best seat, I did not drive him where he wanted to go because I was self-indulgent, I did not show him my affection with words or deeds, I harshly threw his mistakes in his face, I did not cover over his faults, etc. For those of us who confess several times a month and receive Communion daily, these latter things are the sins we commit and of which we must confess; but through inertia in our formation they are also the only ones we never confess, while confessing again and again old sins already confessed and forgiven. Let us remember that our religion is not a religion of negations: You shall not kill, you shall not lie, no, no… When we die—Saint John of the Cross used to say—“in the evening of life we shall be examined on love.” Our Religion is the Religion of love. In Mt 22:36-40 we read:
“Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law? He (Jesus) said to him: You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind. The second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. On these two commandments (to love and to love) hang all the Law and the Prophets.”
Consequently: whatever our activities may be, if they are not steeped in love of God and neighbor, they have little value before our Lord. Those negations are nothing more than minimum limits that we should never cross. The good child never lies, steals, mistreats, or offends his Father in any other way, but the Father is not satisfied with that; he wants to be loved, to be treated with affection, for us to remember his birthday, to take work off his shoulders, to give him a little gift from time to time, to have conversations with him. Nor should we forget that “whoever loves me is the one who keeps my commandments.”
There are many other things of which it also does not occur to us to confess: a) Not doing our work with the greatest possible perfection, doing shoddy jobs. A badly placed screw can cause a car accident; b) driving dangerously or after a couple of drinks too many. You shall not kill. c) Wasting our time and making others waste theirs, a form of theft like any other, in times when an hour of work costs 3,500 pesetas and more. d) Failing to make life pleasant for others by grumbling, criticizing, gossiping, without saying a word of encouragement or kindness to anyone; things that do not kill, but make life sad.
Parents, and other relatives with small children, love them dearly; but—except for mothers—not all equally, depending on the way the little ones show us their love. There are shy ones to whom it is hard for us to give a kiss; there are those who immediately and always throw their arms around our necks. On these we pour out all our love. The recipe is simple: give love and you will receive love; grumble and they will grumble at you; praise and you will be praised. How hard it is for us to recognize the good works of others!
We have also forgotten the very grave sins of omission. Lk 12:46-48 tells us:
“That servant who knew his master’s will but did not prepare himself or act according to it will receive many lashes… From everyone to whom much has been given, much will be required; and from the one to whom much has been entrusted, even more will be demanded.”
The parable of the talents is more than expressive.
Unfortunately, in our day, we speak very little about going to confession, and not too many opportunities are offered either. On the one hand, it seems as if it were no longer in fashion; but, fortunately, in other sectors of the Church its transcendental importance is beginning to sink in again.
To confess one must go to the confessional and kneel before the priest, but when and where? It turns out that confessions—especially for people who do not frequent the Church—are not known: at what time they are, in which church, and on which days. There is no parish where the schedules of Masses, confessions, and the names of confessors are posted, where they can be seen (not behind closed doors!), as happens in some towns. And confession is the first step for the lost child to return to the Father’s home. Any company or shop that has something to offer gives every facility to its customers. In the Catholic Church, where competition is beginning to appear, anyone who wants something has to come expressly to ask; so it would be better for us to give a few more facilities to those who are far away, lest “the good children” turn out not to be such good brothers.
Author: Alejo Fernández Pérez
Source: Apologetica.org
