Why should you go to confession? There are a hundred reasons we conjure up why not to go to confession, but there are twice as many reasons why we should go.

“I CAN CONFESS DIRECTLY TO GOD.”

The most popular argument against going to confession is “I don’t need to go to a priest. I can confess directly to God.” St. Augustine had to deal with this in the fifth century:

Let no one say… “I repent before God. God knows it and pardons me.” What! Was it then said in vain to the priests, “Whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven”? You hold the Gospel of no account. You despise the words of Christ, and you promise yourself what he refuses to you.

You can indeed confess directly to God, and be forgiven venial sins. However, as the Catechism of The Catholic Church (CCC) teaches, “Individual and integral confession of grave sins followed by absolution remains the only ordinary means of reconciliation with God and with the Church” (CCC # 1497). For mortal sins we need more than just “direct confession”: Anyone conscious of grave sin must receive the sacrament of Reconciliation before coming to communion (CCC #1385).

Also, by not making use of the sacrament of Reconciliation, you do not receive the sacramental grace that comes from going to confession.

St. Francis de Sales wrote:

In confession you not only receive absolution from the… sins you confess, but also great strength to avoid them in the future, light to see them clearly, and abundant grace to repair whatever damage you have incurred. You will also practice the virtues of humility, obedience, simplicity, and charity. In the single act of confession you will exercise more virtues than in any other act whatsoever.

St. John Vianney said, “When you go to confession you un-nail Our Lord.”

When you confess directly to God you don’t hear the words of absolution from the priest, by which you can be sure you have been forgiven. Jesus gave his apostles the power to forgive and retain sins (Jn. 20:23). A priest can often tell if you are truly contrite for your sins. He can help you know what things are truly wrong and what things are serious matter. It is said, “No one is a good judge in his own case.” The priest helps us arrive at an objective understanding of how we stand before God. There is great comfort in knowing we are truly forgiven, not just subjectively, but objectively.

St. Dorotheus said “It does not matter how many virtues a man may have, even if they are beyond number and limit. If he has turned from the path of self-accusation, he will never find peace.”

In confession, too, we can get some spiritual guidance. We may need counsel on how to deal with a problem in a truly Christian way. The priest can often help us find the right approach.

There is another reason to go to confession, of course. The Catechism of the Church states:

According to the Church’s command, “after having attained the age of discretion, each of the faithful is bound by an obligation faithfully to confess serious sins at least once a year” (CCC1457).

Each year we put off confessing serious sins, alas, another serious sin is added.

As anyone who has gone to confession recently knows, the sacrament of penance is not a harsh tribunal of justice, but a manifestation of God’s infinite mercy. God waits patiently for us to return to him so that he can embrace us again with his love and help us to be at peace. The priest is there in the confessional to represent Christ, the one who told the parable of the lost sheep, the prodigal son, who forgave his executioners from the cross. This is the Jesus who waits for you in the person of the priest in the confessional!

“CONFESSION IS PAINFUL!”

One person said he had a friend who “shakes all over every time she goes to confession, and has many friends who do the same. How can you call this a consoling sacrament?” Perhaps more important than how she feels when she goes is how does she feel when she leaves? This is the key.

Also, Many people tremble at the mere thought of going to the dentist, or for surgery, but consider the alternative: rotted teeth, diseased organs, etc.

Rotted teeth and diseased organs are serious matters, but a rotted soul… What a tragedy. Some put off the confession of serious sins and try to cover them over with various arguments why they shouldn’t go. After a while they feel that they have accomplished their goal, the pain is numbed. They hardly notice it. It’s like an infected wound that gets covered over by skin. You almost forget it is there. But it is there, festering away and eating away at your whole body. Unconfessed mortal sins eat away at the soul, but the corrosion is almost invisible. It can be like a cancer, which is not discovered until it’s too late.

Many psychologists have marveled at the power of this sacrament. It is not primarily a psychological exercise, but there is a psychological element. We are told that strong emotions need to be expressed in some healthy way. If we keep them in we may develop a neurosis. Guilt can be a strong, and helpful emotion, if we allow it to move us to apologize. If we hold it in however, it will pop out in other ways, as toothpaste used to come out from the side of the tube when we squeezed the tube without taking the cap off. Guilt will come out as criticism, especially of the Church. Or, it may come out as anger, anger over any little thing that happens. Unexpressed guilt can make us very sour people.

“But, I thought guilt was a bad thing,” you say? Some guilt is good, some bad. The guilt that moves us to contrition and apology is good. The guilt that we keep after that is bad. Once you go to confession and are absolved, get rid of the guilt. Prolonged guilt is often the result of pride. The person thinks, in effect, “How could someone like me do something as terrible as that?” The fact of the matter is we are all weaklings in the eyes of God, and it is only when we say with St. Paul, “I will boast most gladly of my weaknesses, in order that the power of Christ may dwell with me” (2 Cor. 12:9), that we get strength.

Once Fulton Sheen was instructing an airline stewardess in the faith. When he taught her about confession, and the need to go, in order to be forgiven serious sins, she blurted out, “Now I know I’ll never become a Catholic.” Sheen said, “Come back for one more hour, and if you still feel the same, we’ll end the lessons.” She agreed. The following week she came again and the hour ended the same way, only this time she was angry and screaming. He said, “There is nothing I have said which should bring such a reaction… Did you ever have an abortion?” She said “Yes,” and began to weep. It was out, and she was no longer angry or reluctant to continue. She finished her lessons, went to confession and joined the Church. And, she found peace. She feared the pain of confessing, but was glad when it was over.

Sometimes by avoiding a painful thing today we bring on twice the pain tomorrow.

But, what if the priest gets angry with me? That seldom happens anymore, but if it does, simply ask the priest, “Father, did you die on the cross for me?”

There is another thing to remember about the discomfort of this sacrament: the more we go, the easier it is to go. Everyone should attempt to go to confession at least once a month, but ideally every two weeks. The more often we go to confession, the more sensitive we are to our sins, even our small sins, and the less discomfort we feel.

To be sure, if a person has a serious psychological problem with confession, he should discuss it with a priest and see about the possibility of being excused, at least for a time.

“I’M EMBARRASSED TO TELL MY SINS TO ANOTHER HUMAN BEING!”

True, it can be embarrassing, but that should not keep us from so great a source of grace. How often we go to a friend to tell them some wrong we have committed against our spouse. Do we believe it is Jesus in the confessional, or don’t we? Who could be a more understanding friend? I have received more understanding and comfort from the priests in the confessional than in any good friend.

What will he think of you? He will see you as Jesus sees you: one who has been wiped clean. But won’t he look down on me? Let the priest without sin be the first to throw a stone. We priests have to go to confession too. Do you think we are without sin? Think again. Priests know also, that some of the greatest saints_St. Augustine, St. Mary Magdalene, St. Margaret of Cortona_had been great sinners. Who is to say you are not the next? Priests try to look at the “new you,” not the old one.

The priest is bound not only to never reveal the sin of a penitent, but to try to forget sins as soon as he hears them. There is an expression that we priests have: What I know from confession, I know less than that which I do not know at all.

CONVERSION

So often confession is the beginning of a great conversion. Bishop Sheen told this story:

When Charles de Foucauld, a hero of France but still an evil man, entered a church one day, he knocked at the confessional of Father Huvelin and said: “Come out, I want to talk to you about a problem.” Fr. Huvelin answered, “No, come in; I want to talk to you about your sins.” Foucauld, struck by Divine Grace, obeyed; later on he became a [hermit] in the desert and one of the saintly men of our times.

A young man once gave a talk about his conversion. He had been a Catholic since childhood, but he fell into sin and neglected confession, though he continued to go to Mass. So, he did need conversion. He went to confess one Saturday afternoon, and found himself at the end of a long line of people. He looked at his watch and decided he didn’t have time to go, so he started to leave. A woman close to the confessional grabbed him as he went by and said, “Here, take my place. You look like you may need it more that I.” Indeed he did. He was caught… by the Hound of Heaven. He went in, confessed, and returned to the sacraments for the first time in over ten years. He went on to become a priest.

“I DON’T NEED TO GO TO CONFESSION. I HAVE ONLY VENIAL SINS.”

Pope John Paul II said on June 15, 1983:

The sacrament of reconciliation is not reserved only for those who commit serious sins. It was instituted for the remission of all sins and the grace that flows from it has a special [power] of purification and support in the effort of amendment and progress. It is an irreplaceable sacrament in the Christian life; it cannot be disregarded or neglected if one wants the seed of divine life to mature in the Christian and produce all the desired results.

When we confess just venial sins we develop a greater sensitivity to them, and become more inclined to overcome them. Most people who commit mortal sins began with repeated venial sins, and thus weakened, fell into more serious sins.

One person went on a retreat and as part of the retreat he went to confession. It had been more than two years since he had gone. He hadn’t committed any mortal sins so he didn’t absolutely have to go. Nonetheless, the priest gently corrected him on his staying away for so long. “Could it be a matter of pride that you haven’t come to confession all this time?” He encouraged him to go at least once a month from then on, just for venial sins. The man admitted his pride, and resolved to go monthly.

Pius XII wrote in Mysticii corporis:

For a constant and speedy advancement in the path of virtue we highly recommend the pious practice of frequent confession… for by this means we grow in a true knowledge of ourselves and in Christian humility, bad habits are uprooted, spiritual negligence and apathy are prevented, the conscience is purified and the will strengthened, salutary spiritual direction is obtained and grace is increased by the effectiveness of the sacrament itself.

Confession: God doesn’t need it. We do.

Today there is an unfortunate combination of two extremes: a blasé attitude toward sin, and a certain despair of forgiveness. Both are radically wrong.

THE HORROR OF SIN

The Old Testament is filled with references to sin and the need to have God take it away; not just forgive it, but take it away. “Happy the sinner whose fault is removed, whose sin is forgiven. Happy those to whom the LORD imputes no guilt” (Ps 32:1,2); “My iniquities overwhelm me, a burden beyond my strength” (Ps 38:4, 5); “Have mercy on me, God, in your goodness; in your abundant compassion blot out my offense. Wash away all my guilt; from my sin cleanse me. For I know my offense; my sin is always before me” (Ps 51:3, 4, 5); “Who can say, ‘I have made my heart clean, I am cleansed of my sin’?” (Pr 20.9). Also see Ps 32:5, Pr 5:22, Pr. 14:34 among others.

The New Testament is no less concerned with sin. Jesus came for one primary purpose: to make up for our sins by dying on the cross. It is crucial that we recover a biblical sense of the horror of sin. The saints and other holy people had this sense.

St. Ignatius of Loyola said:

“I would not for the sake of all creation, or for the purpose of saving my life, consider committing a single venial sin.”

St. Catherine of Genoa wrote:

When I had the vision in which I saw how much the shadow of the smallest act against God matters, I do not know why I did not die. I do not wonder that hell is so horrible, seeing that it is made for sin. But, horrible as it is… I think … that even there God shows mercy, so terrible does even the shadow of a venial sin seem to me.

St. Francis of Assisi said:

Had I committed but one little sin I would have ample reason to repent of it for the rest of my life.

St. Teresa of Avila put it:

Follow the advice [to please God] until you find you have such a fixed determination not to offend the Lord that you would rather lose a thousand lives, and be persecuted by the whole world, than commit one venial sin.

Cardinal Newman wrote:

The Church holds it better for sun and moon to drop from Heaven, for the earth to fail, and for all the many millions on it to die of starvation in the most extreme agony… than that one soul… should commit one single venial sin, should tell one willful untruth or should steal one poor farthing…

What is so terrible about sin? Why the fuss? Because we are called to an intimate life of love with God, a kind of marriage (Ez. 16; Is. 52, Hos. 1-3). If we are to be in this marriage, we must be holy, and every act that brings us away from that goal is a terrible tragedy.

…THE MERCY OF GOD

The Old Testament spoke abundantly of the mercy of God. For example, “Give thanks to the Lord for he is good, his mercy endures forever… Who alone does great wonders, for his mercy endures forever…” (Ps. 136:1,4). The litany goes on for 26 verses. One of Pope John Paul II’s earliest encyclicals was Dives in Misericordia, literally “[God, who is] rich in Mercy” (Eph. 2:4). It was about the infinite mercy of God. St. Faustina’s divine Mercy Chaplet is aimed at our becoming more aware of the infinite mercy of God. God told her it was his greatest attribute.

ST. MARGARET OF CORTONA

Nothing speaks more of God’s mercy than the life of St. Margaret of Cortona. She was born in Laviano, Tuscany (present-day Italy) in 1247. Her mother raised her with great love and tenderness, and taught her to love God and strive for virtue. Thus, her mother’s death when Margaret was only seven was a tragic blow.

Her father, a small-time farmer, remarried two years later. He was weak and indulgent at times_spoiling Margaret in the process_and excessively violent at others. His new wife had no use for his high-spirited, pleasure-loving daughter, and attempted with harshness to undo the spoiling her husband had accomplished. Caught between her parents’ extremes, neither of which provided the love she had known and which she desperately sought, she looked for love outside her home, to the boys of her town. Her striking beauty, combined with her spirited nature, made her irresistibly attractive to them. She loved the attention, and to keep it gave in to their lustful desires. Before she was 17 the whole town knew of her sexual adventures.

At 18 she ran off with a nobleman to live in his castle in the hills of Montepulciano. Though he promised to marry her, he never did, so she lived openly as his mistress for nine years. Her sinful life shocked the entire region. She added insult to injury by often riding a magnificent horse defiantly through the streets of Montepulciano dressed in expensive jewels and fancy clothes. When she gave birth to an illegitimate son, Margaret gave up on the hope of marriage and resigned herself to the situation.

Not surprisingly, in spite of her somewhat glamorous life, Margaret was often unhappy. She would find an out-of-the-way room and say to herself, “How good it would be to pray here! In such peace I might become sincerely repentant!” She cried over her sins, hoping one day to reform and receive God’s forgiveness and mercy. Once a friend pleaded with her, “You wretch, how much lower will you bring yourself?” She covered her face with her hands and groaned. Then as if she saw the future, she cried out, “Don’t worry! The day will come when you will call me a saint, because I will have become so holy!”

Margaret continued her sinful life, torn between pleasure and guilt, comfort and disgust. She felt trapped. She hid her agony from everyone. It was only through tragedy that she was set free.

When she was 27 her nobleman failed to return from a business trip on time. After days of searching, she was led by his dog to his murdered body, covered with leaves in the woods. She screamed and fainted.

When she recovered she faced squarely the issue of her own death, her destiny? Where was her lover’s soul now? Where would she end up for all eternity?

She resolved to go home to her father. Dressed as a penitent, she and her young son walked to Laviano. There, she threw herself at the feet of her father and asked forgiveness and shelter. He gave her both.

However, trouble brewed almost immediately. Margaret would often kneel at the door of the local church with a penitential rope around her waist and arms outstretched for all to see she was a repentant sinner; once she even confessed publicly her past sins in the church. All this, combined with the continued bad blood between her and her stepmother brought things to a head. She and her son were driven out.

She walked away leading her crying son, uncertain where to go. She thought of returning to the comfort of her past sinful life. The devil tempted her: “You still have your beauty, your youth, your wit… Why not go back?” But God spoke to her heart, inspiring her to go to Cortona and seek refuge with the Franciscans.

At the city gate she met two kind women who brought her to the Franciscan house. She humbly asked entry into the Third Order of the Franciscans, that she might do penance for the rest of her life. She was accepted on a trial basis to see if her conversion would last. She attended Mass each day, spent long hours in prayer, worked as a midwife and cared for the poor. Finally, after three years, her spiritual director agreed she was ready. In 1277, at the age of 30, Margaret entered the Third Order of St. Francis.

She began to live a life of deep penance, wearing rags for clothing, sleeping on the ground with a stone or piece of wood as a pillow, and seeking to humiliate herself in every way. She returned to Montepulciano one Sunday and asked pardon of the congregation.

Her beauty, which had been the occasion of her ruin, and which still turned the heads of the men in Cortona, she proposed to destroy by cutting and scarring her face. Her spiritual director said no. When she asked God to remove any grace or beauty that others might admire in her, He said to her, “By your beauty I wish to encourage sinners to come to you, to be converted, and thus to give me greater glory.”

When she entered the Third Order she sent her son to the Franciscan school in Arezzo and moved to a shack near the church. There she began to have visions of the Lord. When she was at prayer the Lord seemed to speak plainly to her. For some time He called her, “my poor little one,” but after she had asked Him for a more intimate title through much prayer and penance, He began to call her, “My daughter.” This filled Margaret with great joy, and an ever greater zeal for prayer and penance. She ate only a slice of bread and some water with raw vegetables and nuts. She denied herself all comforts, wearing a hair shirt and whipping herself. She spent most nights contemplating the sufferings of Christ and weeping for her sins.

Once Our Lord said to her, “My daughter, I will place you among the Seraphs, among the virgins whose hearts are flaming with the love of God.”

“How can that be,” she asked, “since I have spoiled myself with so many sins?”

“My daughter, your many penances have purified your soul from all the effects of sin to such a degree that your contrition and sufferings will reintegrate you into the purity of a virgin.” For her love of chastity she would be “placed among the virgins.”

Margaret prayed for the grace to humble herself before all creatures for the love of God. The Lord agreed, saying, “This… will exalt you among the blessed in heaven… You are the third light of the Franciscan Order” (After St Francis, and St Clare).

Margaret was indeed humbled, as many in Cortona began out of jealousy to spread scandalous rumors about her. Even the Franciscans began to suspect her. Her response to her slanderers was to pray for them and even to ask their forgiveness. For seven years she lived under suspicion, deprived of her spiritual director, her ecstasies and special graces. However, this trial was followed by a period of great grace.

After raising her to the title of “my daughter,” the Lord gave Margaret many other titles, including, “mother of sinners,” “lily of innocence,” “rose of charity,” His “sister,” and “pearl of his heart.” However, her most treasured title was “spouse.” She received this one day in August, after holy communion. She was given a white robe, a wedding ring and a crown from the Lord’s angels. Then Jesus declared, “You are my spouse.” This “mystical marriage,” is the highest spiritual state possible, in which the soul is constantly aware God’s presence and love.

People came from miles around to seek Margaret’s advice and prayers, and many miracles occurred at her intercession. She showed great love for the poor, depriving herself of almost everything_including her coat in mid-winter_to provide for them. She founded a hospital in 1286 and worked there as a nurse, preferring to serve those with the most repulsive diseases. She founded two groups: “The Little Poor Sisters,” to serve at the hospital, and the confraternity of Our Lady of Mercy, to serve the City’s poor.

The Lord revealed to Margaret a month in advance, when she would die. For the final 17 days of her life her only nourishment was the Holy Eucharist. She died peacefully on February 22, 1297. She was 50 years old. Almost immediately miracles began to occur at her grave, including the raising to life of twelve persons. Her body is incorrupt to this day, visible beneath the main altar of the Basilica of Cortona, “St. Margaret’s.” She was canonized in 1728.

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What an awesome, merciful God it is who can raise us from the depths of sin to the heights of holiness as he raised Margaret and others such as St. Augustine and St. Mary Magdalene. No one is beyond God’s endless mercy.

A question that teens usually ponder regarding sex is, “How far is too far?” But a new question I challenge us to consider is, “How far would you go to protect your purity?” Saint Maria Goretti was only eleven years old when she was stabbed to death for refusing to give up her virginity to a neighborhood boy, Alessandro.

When she wouldn’t give in to his advances, Alessandro stabbed Maria fourteen times. Four hours after the attack, she finally reached a hospital. She made her last Confession and received her final Communion before she died. Her admirable last wish was that God forgive Alessandro so that one day he could join her in Heaven.

On June 24, 1950, Pope Pius XII canonized Maria Goretti as a saint of the Catholic Church and the patroness of youth. Alessandro even testified on behalf of Maria’s holiness during the canonization process! (In prison, Maria visited him in a dream in which she gave him a bouquet of fourteen lilies, symbolizing her forgiveness.)

Wow. Maria wanted to die before she offended God. What’s more, she forgave her murderer! To beeleven and already believe in something enough to die for it – talk about faithful! She died an awful death, but in her suffering she gave honor to God. She died for Christ, and now she reigns with Him in eternal glory! (2 Timothy 2:12 – “If we persevere, we shall also reign with Him.”)

St. Maria Goretti is an excellent model for anyone who wants to live the virtue of chastity. With teen-pregnancy rates sky-high today, I pray that her story inspires teens to follow in her footsteps. Her death speaks volumes about the value of chastity, and the depth of her forgiveness makes her a true follower of Christ. She demonstrates that anyone can bravely defend purity without fear, as Christ will always strengthen us when we want to stand up for Him.