At the risk of straying from my charter here at Creative Minority, I am going to blog about something other than genetics or biotechnology. My hope is reach out to those who may have experienced a similar traumatic event and possible elicit a laugh or even a “Thank-you!” to God that you are not me.
I am a cradle Catholic, but my family was not very good about going to confession regularly. It is possible that because my parish priest growing up was beyond liberal, my parents wanted me nowhere near him. Maybe my liberal parish didn’t offer confession regularly. (The attached school made us say, “In the name of the Creator, the Redeemer and the Sanctifier” when we made the Sign of the Cross because it was “less masculine” so really anything is possible.) Never-the-less, the habit of going to confession often was not one I learned at home.
One fateful day in my freshman year of college at a big Jesuit university I decided that I was going to become a regular at confession. I marched with faith-filled purpose into the church which had the old fashioned confessionals: three wooden boxes, the priest in the middle, flanked by two penitents. I waited my turned and then enter the confessional on the right.
Fr. P was the confessor that day. I did not know it at the time but Fr. P was an old-school Jesuit. And I mean very, very old. I am sure Fr. P has long since joined Christ in Heaven.
I confessed my sins which I thought were pretty run of the mill for an innocent eighteen year-old Catholic girl newly entering the big bad world. Nothing serious. At least that was what I thought.
Fr. P fervently responded with these exact words (I could not possibly forget them,) “Young lady, you are no better than a barnyard animal! You are on an iceberg bound for HELL!”
As he continued on about the blackness of my soul, I thought, “Barnyard animal? Bound for Hell? My transgressions must have been much worse than I realized.” Waves of guilt and shame washed over me, pounding my conscience into tiny grains of sand.
At which point, I passed out. Yep. My psyche could not handle it and I passed out. Now please understand that up until that point, I had never in my life blacked out. Ever. Since then I have passed out only once, after an extremely long and arduous labor with my first child.
How long I was out, I do not know. I came to crumpled on the floor of that wooden box with a bump on my head and a realization that Fr. P was still going on about how I was destined for Hell before I had entered that confessional. He gave me my penance and asked for my Act of Contrition. Even though I had it memorized, I couldn’t get it out.
In total frustration Fr. P said, “Well you do remember your Our Father don’t you?” Except, I couldn’t recite that prayer either. Fr. P prompted me through it and I stumbled out of the confessional, quite possibly on my hands and knees, and crawled into a pew to complete my penance.
I then, in a daze and as white as a sheet, I walked back to my dorm. I was greeted by my good Catholic friends who realized that something was very, very wrong. They said I look like someone I loved had just died.
I told them what had happened and they replied with rolling laughter, “You went to Fr. P. He says that stuff to EVERYONE no matter what you tell him!”
All I could think was that a heads-up would have been nice. Maybe if I had been a regular confession goer like they were, I would have had that juicy bit of inside info.
While today I can, and do, laugh heartily about that fateful confession, I wish I could say that I left it unscathed. But I did not. For years after, every time I tried to go to confession, as I approached the confessional, I would get dizzy and disoriented, and then leave.
I realized I had PTCD, Post Traumatic Confession Disorder. I in no way intend to make light of those who suffer from the much more serious Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), but I think PTCD might actually be a thing. I have always wondered if there were others out there like me.
A few years later, a friend of mine, worried about the state of my soul, told a priest about my experience and they decided to get me to come back to the Sacrament of Reconciliation. The priest was very supportive. I got through it and was on my way to recovery.
I am still somewhat confession-shy. To this day, I have been known to sometimes blurt out to the priest, in a fit of anxiety, “Please be nice to me. I had a bad confession experience once in my youth!”
Rebecca Taylor blogs at Mary Meets Dolly
April 18, 2012 at 6:25 pm
When I was an altar boy 30 years ago, a crying woman entered the sacristy before Mass asking to have her confession heard. The priest, our pastor, was kind of a crusty old guy. He kind of harumphed, and sent us altar boys down the hallway behind the altar to the other sacristry. Ten seconds later, we, and the rest of the church, heard the priest bellow – "THIRTY YEARS".
Yes, I think PTCD is real. I'm sure it was for that poor woman.
April 18, 2012 at 6:25 pm
I had a priest fall asleep during my confession.
April 18, 2012 at 7:14 pm
Wow, that is pretty traumatic! My worst experience has me confession shy too. The priest actually told me I was wasting his time with my piddly little venial sins. It was really humiliating. I never went back to him, but now I'm always afraid to go to a priest I've never been to. Still, I'm pretty sure I'll take my bad experience over yours!
April 19, 2012 at 2:08 pm
This is not the first time I hrsrd this one. My Grandparents from St. Petersburg said they were told the same. This really blows my mind since at my Church in VA, our Priests say it's good to confess every sin because all sins are equal. They all offend God nonetheless!
April 18, 2012 at 7:36 pm
I suffered from PTSD and think you are right in that PTCD is probably real too. What a horrific experience you went through. I have had some bad experiences in the Confessional, but nothing like you went to. Fortunately, I have found a priest at our Parish who is gifted in the Confessional, I truly feel like I am speaking to Christ when I am in the Confessional with him. The Sacrament of Reconciliation is supposed to be a Healing Sacrament.
April 18, 2012 at 7:57 pm
I have never had an experience that bad, but I've had a few that were very difficult. I had a priest yell at me for being scrupulous (I was definitely being scrupulous, but that was so not the way to help me). Once I was told that what I'd done was shameful and a bad example for my children. That was true, but I felt so hopeless about my soul for almost a year afterward–it was the longest I'd gone without going to confession in my life. I felt very upset, even to the point of nearly convincing myself that God had never meant for me to marry and be a mother. Every time I go to confession, I sweat, get short of breath, and my heart absolutely pounds like it's going to come out of my chest. I feel terrified each time. In college, I used to go to confession at least a couple times a month. At this point in my life, I just can't do it more than a few times a year. I think my personality has a lot to do with how I feel about confession–I tend to be a sensitive, introspective, perfectionist, and I'm always very hard on myself.
April 18, 2012 at 8:49 pm
Yeah, I think I am the same way. I dwell too much on my faults and failings and not enough on my virtues and successes.
April 18, 2012 at 8:59 pm
"I am a cradle Catholic, but my family was not very good about going to confession regularly. One fateful day in my freshman year of college at a big Jesuit university I decided that I was going to become a regular at confession. I confessed my sins which I thought were pretty run of the mill for an innocent eighteen year-old Catholic girl newly entering the big bad world. Nothing serious. At least that was what I thought. Fr. P fervently responded with these exact words (I could not possibly forget them,) "Young lady, you are no better than a barnyard animal! You are on an iceberg bound for HELL!" As he continued on about the blackness of my soul, I thought, "Barnyard animal? Bound for Hell? My transgressions must have been much worse than I realized." Waves of guilt and shame washed over me, pounding my conscience into tiny grains of sand. At which point, I passed out."
Sounds to me like one day you're gonna pass out and wake up in hell for eternity. Only reason for going to confession is because you ARE hellbound and need to repent and reverse course (the wages of sin is death). Only reason to "become a regular" at sacrament of confession is because you want to rid your life of sin because God hates it and you want to be closer to Him.
Imagine if you had a little speck of barnyard excrement (or your own) on your clothes or in your food, would you wear it or eat it? Rid your life of sin the way orthodox Jews rid leaven from their homes before celebrating Passover (a type of the Eucharist – Behold the Lamb of God, behold Him who takes away the sin of the world):
http://www.aish.com/h/pes/l/48970611.html
Remember Adam & Eve were banished from Eden for eating a piece of fruit simply because God forbade it. Eight people made it through the flood. Four survived Sodom. "Who then can be saved? And Jesus looking on them, says with men it is impossible; but not with God. For all things are possible with God." "Wherefore, my dearly beloved, (as you have always obeyed, not as in my presence only but much more now in my absence) with fear and trembling work out your salvation."
April 18, 2012 at 9:59 pm
"Sounds to me like one day you're gonna pass out and wake up in hell for eternity"
That is NOT your place to even contemplate…you cannot look into her conscience. Concern yourself with mercy, and you can only utter (or even think) words remotely like that if you know EXACTLY what is going on (which more or less requires you to hear a full confession.) And even then, you console with mercy, for God is mercy (and justice, but only God can give justice perfectly).
To the OP, I'm sorry you went through that, confession is always a cleansing experience for me. The old priest…well…we are are stained, but God is merciful, and confession is the sacrament of his mercy. The old priest probably should have remembered that a bit more.
April 18, 2012 at 10:41 pm
Saturday, April 14, 2012: I was told, I too am going to hell… that by confessing the same sins, I'm making a mockery of the Sacrament and Christ will soon no longer tolerate and forgive my sins. I don't know if I'm going back to confession this week, month, year or ever. PTCD… I hear you.
April 18, 2012 at 11:15 pm
Wonder if confession was started so Priests have something to talk about when there is no football.
April 18, 2012 at 11:35 pm
You have to listen to Fr. Larry Richards cd on confession. It is awesome. He says that if a priest yells at you, tell him where to go and leave. Good stuff.
April 19, 2012 at 12:19 am
The priest started yelling at the penitent. The penitient replied: "You are telling my sins all over the church" a no, no in confessions. The priest apologized. Pray for priests. We need holy priests. The next time the priest tells anyone that they are going to hell, the answer is: "I will go wherever Christ sends me".
April 19, 2012 at 2:03 am
Having been denied absolution, because i couldn't e certain I wouldn't commit the same sin again, I know how you feel. That said, I'm very grateful to the priest who said it. He was right. I was wrong. God rest his soul.
April 19, 2012 at 2:38 am
I am always grateful when I go to confession to a priest who gives me a penance, tells me to say an act of contrition and then absolves me of my sins AND NOTHING ELSE. I figure that any more than that is a waste of time for those standing in line behind me.
April 19, 2012 at 7:18 am
I feel so bad for anyone who has a bad experience in confession. It takes some heroic virtue to get to confession. I used to go to the old school Redemptorists. One of them was so glad to hear confession. He would always tell us no matter how bad the sins were that Christ was glad that we came to confession because Christ loves to forgive. I wish all priests were as kind and eager to absolve. Truly, I am sorry for your experience.
April 19, 2012 at 12:36 pm
Alison: My priest tells me to thank God for the grace to come to confession even before I start. "I wish all priests were as kind and eager to absolve. Truly, I am sorry for your experience." Amen.
April 19, 2012 at 3:29 pm
Many years ago my husband had been out of a job for a long time. I was angry and upset at being the breadwinner and the stress over our financial situation. I went to confession. I don't remember what the priest said to me, but I left in tears. He wasn't at all helpful. It took me probably 5 or 6 years before I was able to approach the sacrament again. To this day that experience colors both my attitude toward the sacrament and toward that priest.
April 19, 2012 at 4:55 pm
I have been blessed with kind and gentle priests in the sacrament of Reconciliation. My worst experience was having a very liberal priest look me straight in the eye and tell me, "Those aren't sins, they're personal choices." What a waste of time! I had to find someone else and wait a whole week to be absolved of my very real sins.
April 19, 2012 at 7:21 pm
Someone once told me they stopped believing in Fatima when they read the part about how Francisco (a 9 year old boy) wasn't going to heaven unless he said many rosaries:
"What do You want of me?” Lucia humbly asked.
“I come to ask you to come here for six consecutive months, on the thirteenth day, at
this same hour. I will tell you later who I am and what I want. And I shall return here
again a seventh time.”
“And I, am I, too, going to go to Heaven?” Lucia asked.
“Yes, you shall,” the Lady assured her.
“And Jacinta?”
“Yes.”
“And Francisco?”
“He too shall go, but he must say many Rosaries,” the Lady responded.
Lucia asked some more questions of the Lady. Two girls who used to come to her
house to learn sewing from her sisters had recently died. Lucia wanted to find out about
them, too.
“And Maria do Rosario, daughter of José das Neves, is she in Heaven?”
“Yes,” the Lady replied.
“And Amelia?”
“She is still in Purgatory.”
Lucia’s eyes filled with tears. How sad, that her friend Amelia was suffering in the
fires of Purgatory. Then the Lady said to the children:
“Do you want to offer yourselves to God to endure all the sufferings that He may
choose to send you, as an act of reparation for the sins by which He is offended and as a
supplication for the conversion of sinners?”
Promptly Lucia responded for all three, “Yes, we want to.”
“Then you are going to suffer a great deal,” the Lady promised, “but the grace of God
will be your comfort.”"
http://www.fatima.org/crusader/truestory/pdf/tspg13.pdf
Today, I read:
“When I’m dead they’ll come and touch holy pictures and rosaries to me, and all the while I’ll be getting boiled on a grill in purgatory.”
http://www.catholicherald.co.uk/spirituallife/saintoftheweek/2012/04/16/the-lourdes-visionary-who-expected-to-be-boiled-on-a-grill-in-purgatory/
Then I read this about an "innocent 18-year old Catholic girl" who confesses the "run of the mill sins" she committed upon entering "the big bad world" and complains the old school jesuit priest yelled at her that she was bound for hell for conducting herself like a barn yard fowl. [would she complain if he yelled at her because she was dashing out into the big bad street in front of an oncoming car?] She immediately ran and asked her girl friends if they thought the priest was right and they agreed with her "No!Of course, we're going to heaven!"; now she has big belly laughs over this "story", but it still gives her heart palpitations to go to confession (sinning and endangering her soul doesn't make her afraid; nor does sinning make her feel guilty or ashamed; only confessing these sins makes her ashamed and guilty).
Don't be afraid of confession (that's like being afraid of the diagnosis instead of the disease). 99.5% of the work of self examination should take place before you ever enter the confessional. The disconnect seems to come from the person's understanding of the seriousness of the sin or the reality of the situation vs. the priest's (standing to you in the place of God). Just because you don't like what you hear, doesn't mean you should reject it–imagine never going back to the doctor because he said you had cancer. It's YOUR eternal life that's at stake, not the priest's.
P.S. "New school" jesuits advocate promiscuity, homosexual sex, contraception, abortion, gay marriage, drag shows etc.
April 20, 2012 at 7:50 pm
Anonymous-
May I suggest you pray the 'Jesus Prayer' – you say 10, 100, 1000 times "Jesus Christ, son of the living God, have mercy on me, a sinner (or Jesus, have mercy)
The point is 'have mercy on ME, a sinner'- we must take the planks out of our eyes before we comment on the specks in another's eye.