I have been asked by many non-Catholic friends just what goes on inside the wooden stalls
(Confessionals) in the back of the church. Breaking Vatican II protocol rules and regulations,
(Section 3:13, Verse 8, line 5 that clearly state all Catholics must never reveal the ritual of one on one confession to non believers) I am here to expose the exact secret ritual of confession and what a Catholic child went through in those torture chambers
(Confessionals) in the 1960's.
On the first day of second grade, 1966, the Nuns gleefully announced that this year would be an exciting year for all us Catholic school kids for we were all going to be introduced to the holy sacraments of confession and holy communion. of course, there would be plenty of studying, quizzes, tests, and eraser zingers
(Nuns zipping hidden erasers at children who were talking or being bad) before we would realize these goals.
Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months as our First Confession lessons dragged on. We learned about the different levels of sin,
(Venial and Mortal) and how sin affected our souls and the ability to enter the kingdom of heaven when we died. However, these lessons were redundant for all Catholics, for since birth, we are taught in tedious repetition on all aspects of the Catholic faith. We know what sins we can safely commit to keep us out of Hell. We've all been around the block.
After months of intense study, I was ready for my first confession.
But certainly not my last...
The week before our first confession, we had several practices,
(Simulations) to make sure we all had our opening line, prayer, and kneeling technique down. I was suspicious of this for the nuns played the part of the priest and there was no way in hell I was ever going to tell the nuns my sins.
(Hell, they have been keeping a permanent record of all my sins since birth anyway, why give them any more ammo to use against me?)
It was now Saturday morning which I learned was confession day which really sucked for now I had to go to church two days out of the week. I wasn't liking that at all. I asked my older brother George for any tips or advice before I stepped into the confessional box "Live" for the first time. George told me to disguise my voice when I told him my sins so the priest wouldn't recognize it the next in class. He also said never to give the priest your name. If he asked, give him someone else's name.
I asked if that was a sin, lying to the priest while in the confessional wondering if perhaps the space time continuum vortex would somehow converse at my exact coordinates but i was put at ease when George said the priest would rarely ask a kids name. Only if you did something really bad like murder, rob a bank, or pull a nuns habit off.
We arrived at church and all the second graders filed into the back of the church,
(Quietly of course) and took our assigned seats in the pews waiting our turn to confess our sins. I noticed we were sitting alphabetically. Damn, the nuns had set us all up. All the priest would have to do to find the identity of a particular bad kid is ask the nuns who was 8th in line and the nuns cold match it up with their seating chart.
The priests on call for the day walked into the back of the church, told us all good morning, said a little prayer, and with bible in hand proceeded to their side of the confessional. The priests opened the confessional doors and a little white light turned on signaling to all us sinners that he was ready. I noticed that the priest was in the middle and could take two sinners at a time, one on each side. The 1960's was certainly showing signs of progress.
A moment later, a nod from the nuns signaled the first sinner,
(Second grader) to enter. Like lambs to a slaughter, the girl slowly moved toward the confessional, slowly opened it, walked in and closed the door behind her. A few seconds later, a little red light appeared on the confessional door. That signaled that the sinner had activated the kneeler and was occupied.
The sinner was only in there for a few minutes, and I timed her by repeating the Act of Contrition
(A prayer to be said after the priest heard your sins) in my head over and over. Saying it slowly, the average time was 5 AOC's
(Acts Of Contritions) per kid. Some kids took longer, and we all knew that meant they had plenty of sins to confess. And so did the anxious parents watching their children.
At last, it was my turn. Remembering my lessons drilled into me for 8 months I was confident as I walked toward the confessional. I opened the door and sat down activating the red light.
(It was dark in the confessional as the only light source was from the screen where the priest talked to you from) A minute or two passed by as the priest was finishing up with the other sinner on the left and then I heard the screen slide open and I was up.
Every Catholic knows what comes next, the BMF prayer.
(Bless Me Father prayer) It is the prayer the sinner begins every confession with. For you non-Catholics, here is the prayer. Bless me father for I have sinned, this is my first confession.
(The next time you went to confession, you would simply change up this line to, Bless me Father for I have sinned, it has been one week since my last confession)
At this time, you were required to confess your sins. I remembered to speak in a whisper so as not to announce to those outside my sins. However, I forgot to disguise my voice as my brother George told me to. For my sins, I started with, I lied to my parents. I lied to my brothers and sisters. I was mean to people. I skipped church. I threw some dinner food away. i swore. I used the Lord's name in vain. I looked at smut.
(Playboy Magazines) Then I fell silent as I awaited for the priest to deliver my penance.
Being it my first confession, I believe the priest went easy on me. He told me that I should reflect on my sins and avoid them by praying more and helping out more at the church. He then told me to say 3 Our Fathers and 3 Hail Mary's for penance. He finished with Go in peace.
It was time for my very first "Live" Act Of Contrition. The prayer we practiced all year just for this day.
Act Of Contrition (1966 Version)
O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee.
And I detest all my sins, because I dread the loss of heaven,
and the pains of hell;
But most of all because they offend Thee, my God,
Who are all good and deserving of all my love.
I firmly resolve, with the help of Thy grace,
to confess my sins, to do penance, and to amend my life.
Amen.
I had done it. Survived my first confession. The walls of the church did not crack as my parents had told me they would. Nor did the priest gasp with hearing hearing me confess such hideous sins. I walked out of the confessional all smug, with a clean slate, no sins on my soul. If I were to die that exact instant, I would go straight to Heaven. I admit, it was a good feeling. However, a feeling that wouldn't last long. I walked back to my assigned seat, kneeled, and said my penance and then sat down.
The entire process took about two hours. After the last child finished his penance, the nuns gave us the signal to stand, and we filed out single file and joined up with our parents.
In the car ride home, I had questions as my paranoia set in. What if I forgot to confess a sin or not explain my sins correctly to the priest? Would I still go to hell because of a technicality? Or would my permanent record simply add this omission as another sin, the sin of lying, and to a priest to boot? The good feeling I had leaving the confessional had now turned sour as I hoped that Dad wouldn't crash the car on the way home and kill me and with a sin on my soul. Damn, I was damned. And damn, I just sinned by thinking damn. I started seeing a pattern here.
Once in confession, after a pretty good week, I told the priest that
I had been pretty good and didn't have any sins to confess. The priest said, Vanity was my sin for believing I was good. My penance was to say 10 Our Fathers and 1o Hail Marys and of course a sincere Act Of Contrition.
After that, I felt I had to make some sins up, to insure the priest didn't think I was to vain. But of course, that was the sin of lying, in a confessional no less, and had no way of breaking this vicious cycle because we had to go to confession every Saturday whether we needed to or not.
Hence, since we had to go to confession on Saturday, all us smart Catholic kids would do our sinning on Friday so we would only carry the sins for one day. It was the risk we dared to take.
And now that the sacrament of confession was completed, First Holy Communion was next. I was ready!
LURKING ON THE GRASSY KNOLL
