Jul 29, 2013

The Gift of Repentance



My soul is at home among the faithful and the quietness of the church. Some people at the corner are bowed down in solemn prayer, some crying -people come and walk out quietly. Here you can be yourself - bare.  In moments like these, I can say together with the psalmist; compare to a thousand days better is one day at your temple.


How many times have I come running back to you? How many times have I been so unfaithful? Let me count the ways... No, you don’t count. Why am I so unsettled? Looking for I do not know what (The next big thing?) Looking for joy where you are the only true joy. Do I really believe that? My actions say otherwise. To seek your will first for you will take care of the rest. Do I trust that? I have tasted your goodness but where am I? Do I please you?


I cry, I cry. What poverty of the spirit!  Where is the storehouse of good thoughts and good will? Wheredoes wisdom lives? How about faith and love?


I cry, I cry. For who could contain you, who could understand? But you meet us where we are. What mercy! What love, and what compassion! Your kindness is what leads us to repentance. Even repentance is a gift; a reaction not an action.  And I don't want to take your kindness lightly. And I'm sorry for the times I do.


I look around and I see hearts, the hearts of your people opening up to you; petitions, prayers, thanksgiving. I cry, I cry.


Here in your house is truth. Here in your house is struggle. Here we come to rest, to wail, to lament. And what do you give in return? Peace beyond reason. Hush, hush, you know, you understand, our yokes and burdens, in exchange of your yoke and burden- easy and light.

The green light above the confessional's door indicates that the priest is in. I calm myself down and went in.


Forgive me Father for I have sinned...

         
            It has been a year since my last confession...

                                                                                             
                                     I am sorry for...



The priest in the confessional talks in straight English, I have to press my ears closely to the wall to hear him talk.


Grace...


Allow yourself to be touched by God's love. 

Ask for more of the Holy Spirit. Ask our Mother Mary for assistance.

Go in peace...


I close the door.


Our Father who art in heaven......Hail Mary full of grace....


I am overcome with so much emotion thinking of the Mother of God.

So Sr. San Jose, pray for me. You the man! Ah, the communion of saints.
Last time I was here, I told him that I want to be truly human not holy. Now I look at his statue with the baby Jesus with all the carpentry tools at their feet which I find so cute, I say, pray for me for I want to be truly human and holy too. He must have been laughing.


I look around again and I feel peace; more of you Lord, more of you.



***


I confess the same sins every year sometimes I'm afraid the priest in our parish would say, your sins sound familiar. Regarding confessions, my mom said, I do the same sins over and over again so what's the point. But I've heard a priest once said that the Sacrament of Reconciliation is like cleaning your house. You have to clean your house daily so as not to gather dust- so much wisdom.


There are so many things about the Sacrament of Reconciliation that I’d like to talk, like how it takes a whole lot of humility to confess your sins to another person, and how I find it the bravest thing a person could do. Of how it feels like to walk inside the confessional room and thinking, can I collapse now? And that I don't particularly enjoy doing the examination of conscience because it unsettles me, but you find so much grace in there. And if it's really heartfelt, a good confession with the grace of God heals you in so many ways.


  
 
Images by Freepik