Turning Points
Life is a journey. It has a beginning and it has an end. All along its path are events, places
and people who are turning points. Here, I relate some of these turning points in my own
journey. Hopefully, the stories will illuminate and maybe entertain some of those who care
enough to read.
Life is a journey. It has a beginning and it has an end. All along its path are events, places
and people who are turning points. Here, I relate some of these turning points in my own
journey. Hopefully, the stories will illuminate and maybe entertain some of those who care
enough to read.
| Bless me, Father April 7, 2006 |
Saturdays were for our bi-monthly confessions. We all had to go to
the church and wait in a pew for our turn to enter the confessional
booth. When my turn came, I opened the little door of the side
booth, knelt facing the center booth until I heard the swish of the
little window slide open and from behind the heavy curtain heard
the priest’s voice, “Go ahead, my son.”
Then I began the ritual, “Bless me Father; I have sinned. It has been
two weeks since my last confession. I have lied four times, I have
used profanity 12 times, I have taken the Lord’s name in vain once.”
Usually, only the number of sins changed from week to week. The
the church and wait in a pew for our turn to enter the confessional
booth. When my turn came, I opened the little door of the side
booth, knelt facing the center booth until I heard the swish of the
little window slide open and from behind the heavy curtain heard
the priest’s voice, “Go ahead, my son.”
Then I began the ritual, “Bless me Father; I have sinned. It has been
two weeks since my last confession. I have lied four times, I have
used profanity 12 times, I have taken the Lord’s name in vain once.”
Usually, only the number of sins changed from week to week. The
acts themselves were habits already established.
Then the priest would pronounce absolution in Latin followed by, “Your sins are forgiven you; for
your penance, say the Lord's Prayer five times and five Hail Mary’s. You are dismissed, my son.”
But on one memorable Saturday, it was my mis-fortune to draw Father Gettlefinger as my
confessor. When I entered the booth, finished my confession of that two weeks’ crimes, instead of
hearing “Your sins are forgiven," I heard Father Gettlefinger's unsympathetic voice, “Are you going
to never do these things ever again?”
Knowing full well the honest answer to this question, I replied, “I’ll try, Father.”
That wasn’t satisfactory to Father Gettlefinger. He repeated, “That’s not good enough. I want to
know, are you going to NEVER do these things again?”
With perspiration forming on my brow, I tried again, “I’ll do the best I can Father!”
Not to be satisfied with any half hearted commitment, Father Gettlefinger’s absolution and my
dismissal were not going to happen without my definitive renunciation of the sinful life.
So finally, after a couple of rounds of this, I sinned against the truth and said, “Father I will NEVER
do these things again.”
The freedom of exiting the confessional that Saturday never felt so good. And I took special care to
be sure that my next confession two weeks down the road was to a different priest than Father
Gettlefinger.
Then the priest would pronounce absolution in Latin followed by, “Your sins are forgiven you; for
your penance, say the Lord's Prayer five times and five Hail Mary’s. You are dismissed, my son.”
But on one memorable Saturday, it was my mis-fortune to draw Father Gettlefinger as my
confessor. When I entered the booth, finished my confession of that two weeks’ crimes, instead of
hearing “Your sins are forgiven," I heard Father Gettlefinger's unsympathetic voice, “Are you going
to never do these things ever again?”
Knowing full well the honest answer to this question, I replied, “I’ll try, Father.”
That wasn’t satisfactory to Father Gettlefinger. He repeated, “That’s not good enough. I want to
know, are you going to NEVER do these things again?”
With perspiration forming on my brow, I tried again, “I’ll do the best I can Father!”
Not to be satisfied with any half hearted commitment, Father Gettlefinger’s absolution and my
dismissal were not going to happen without my definitive renunciation of the sinful life.
So finally, after a couple of rounds of this, I sinned against the truth and said, “Father I will NEVER
do these things again.”
The freedom of exiting the confessional that Saturday never felt so good. And I took special care to
be sure that my next confession two weeks down the road was to a different priest than Father
Gettlefinger.
___________________________________________________
| And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose. (Romans 8:28 KJV) |
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