Confessions

 

Catholics are encouraged to go to confession regularly. Something which I have a little difficulty with. These days, whenever I sin, which is a very rare occurrence, I like to ask God's forgiveness directly without going through a middle-man.

I believe my antipathy with confessions started many years ago when I confessed a particularly interesting sin to a priest in confession. Whenever he saw me after that he winked at me knowingly and made me feel guilty once again. He never said anything, but he winked. My guilt ensured that I never sinned that sin again; which is a pity, I think.

It wasn't until many years later that I learnt that the priest had a nervous tick and that he winked at everyone. What a lot of wasted opportunities passed me by in my ignorance.

Despite my dislike of confessions, I go to confessions every now and then to remind the priest that I still exist. If it were not for confessions he would not know I am a parishioner of his. I once sat at the back of the church and fell asleep during his sermon. When Mass was over and everyone had left, he thought I was a vagrant and offered me some money and a cup of tea.

I don't go to confession every week as recommended by the rule book of the Pope. I just go every now and then, say every few months or so, because, as I said I don't sin so much these days.

Besides, it gets a bit tedious and somewhat boring to confess the same sins every time.

"My wife went yaketty yak yaketty yak for ages and I did not listen to a word because football was on TV!" When I confessed that sin, the priest asked me who won the football game.

On another occasion I confessed that I hid my mother-in-law's broomstick so she could not fly home and took the bus instead. He thought that was funny, and asked if it was true.

I tell you folks, it is becoming more difficult thinking up imaginative sins to confess. On one occasion he noticed the repetitions and suggested I go to confession at the church down town where I would get a different slant on the advice given and probably more lenient penances.

I went to the church down town and the priest there did not recognise my voice. (They have a voice recognition system in the confessional I believe).

He asked me which church I was from, and I told him. 

He said, "Can you tell your priest not to re-cycle his reject parishioners over here!"

His penance was so harsh I never went there again.