Funny Guy Friday... Confessions of a few bad confessions...

     As Catholics, our family goes to Confession at least four or five times a year. We especially make a point to go before Easter and before Christmas to prepare ourselves for these Holy seasons. It is a great opportunity to cleanse our souls, and be granted absolution by the priest. It is also a chance for my wife and kids to get in a few good last-minute violations of the Ten Commandments, as they make fun of me and my confessional disasters.
     First of all, I should confess, no pun intended, that I was not raised Catholic, so going to Confession is a fairly new thing for me, and I am not as comfortable as I should be.
     For those of you that are not familiar with the sacrament of Confession, there is a basic script that starts with, "Bless me Father, for I have sinned. It has been _____ days/months/years since my last confession."
     Each time that we go, I try to squirrel in a way to tell the priest how long it has been, without actually telling the priest how long it has been. Technically, saying it has been "several weeks" is not a lie when it has actually been more like four months. There are, in fact, "several weeks" in four months.
     Cheryl points out that it may not be such a great idea to start the whole thing off by lying to the priest. Personally, I don't think it is a lie, and I want a ruling from the judges. The problem is that it is too stupid of a question to actually ask the priests about... and if it turned out to be a lie, it would need to be confessed at our next session. So, I just bite the bullet and give them an accurate timeline.
     Once the initial "greeting" is out of the way, the confession begins. A confession can be face-to-face with a priest, or behind a screen in a small dark booth. I refer to this as contact, or non-contact.
     This is similar to when I go to the jail to visit an inmate. My decision to go contact or non-contact at the jail usually depends on how bad the inmate might be... the worse the inmate, the higher the chance of a non-contact visit.
     My decision to go contact or non-contact with the priest depends upon how bad my sins might be... the worse the sins, the higher the chance of a non-contact confession. Occasionally, the only option is a contact visit, but I must admit that typically, if I can go non-contact, I do.
    Unfortunately, this is not the only time that my work life creeps into the process. Almost every time I go, I refer to the priest as "your Honor,'' at least once, as if I am talking to a judge. But none of this is what my family makes fun of me for when we go. No, they make fun of me about my previous Confession disasters.
     Not being raised Catholic, I never had to memorize the Act of Contrition... a prayer you say at the end of your confession, to show that you are truly sorry, and that you want to change your life. Cheryl and the kids know this by heart, but I do not. As a result, I bring a little cheat sheet into the booth. A bit embarrassing, but what the heck, they don't know who I am... or do they?
     The first time that I went to Confession at our current church, I waited in line for about half an hour. They should really figure out a way to make the line more entertaining like they do at Disney... with a show or something. I think they would attract a bigger audience, but I could be wrong.
     This particular confession was on a Saturday afternoon, before the 4:30 Mass. While in line, I remembered that I did not have my reading glasses. No problem... I determined that I could make out my cheat sheet without them. But once inside the confessional, with the door shut, I realized that it was pitch dark. In fact, the only scrap of light to be found was peeking out through the screen, from the priest's side.
     As panic was setting in, all I could think of was, How am I going to read my cheat sheet when it comes time for the Act of Contrition? I have no idea what I said, or what he said, but I do remember struggling mightily to find light on my side of the booth, and trying to read without my glasses. In fact, it was so bad that the priest kindly asked me if I needed help. As I struggled, the one thought that saved me from complete humiliation was that this was non-contact. He would never know who I was!
     After I was done, I exited the confessional only to have the priest walk out at the exact same time. "Oh, well hello Mark, good to see you. I have to run, I am late in getting ready for Mass." This had to be some violation of some priestly professional standard... I was thinking that perhaps he needed to go to his own confession.
     On another occasion, we went to a Penance Service with a whole gaggle of priests, and we could get into any one of five or six lines. I just happened to pick a line with a visiting priest... in a previousy scouted-out, well-lit confessional.
     I greeted the priest, and started the confession off with a sure sin of missing Mass on one particular Sunday. This guy asked for details. This had never happened before. Typically, I confess in a general manner, and they forgive in a general manner. What was up with the new guy and details? I explained that we had been on vacation in Vermont, and I really lost track of the days and could not find a Sunday evening Mass. He said it was not a sin, as it was not intentional. Wow, they have to be intentional? Who knew?
     I went to the next sin on my list, and he again told me this one was not a sin either... that he does the same thing. I was 0 for 2. This was going great, but I was running out of sins. I started sweating, and thought to myself, Maybe I should start making stuff up! I mean... It's one thing not to know the Act of Contrition... but when you have no reason to even be in there in the first place...
     The thought of making stuff up struck me as funny, and I soon had the giggles. Uh-oh... giggles and Confession is not a good mix. Anyway, I came up with a few things, but nothing very good. I remember leaving that night thinking that if this guy were my regular priest, I could cut my confessions down to one every three or four years.
     Then there was the granddaddy of all confessional screw-ups. On this particular occasion, we went to Confession at the Chapel instead of at the regular church. I had never done this before at the Chapel, so Cheryl and the kids advised that there are three doors: If you want to do non-contact, use the door on the far left... and if you want to go contact, use the door on the right. No problem.
     For some reason, I was telling the kids that they should go contact... to "be a man, and face the priest when you confess your sins." I was going to do it... so they should do it too. They all went before I did, and none had the guts to take me up on my challenge... but I backed up my words with action.
     That is right... contact all the way, baby. I would show these lifelong Catholics who the real man was. 
     I must admit that I was a bit nervous. So nervous that when I opened up the door on the right, I actually opened up the door in the middle by mistake. You know... the middle door... where the priest sits... and waits for everyone to open the door on the left. He had his ipod touch sitting there in what looked like clock-mode, but if I had to swear to it, I think he had on headphones.
     He nodded, and it occurred to me that there was nowhere for me to sit unless I crawled up on his lap. Then I realized... I was not where I was supposed to be.
     So, what do you do when you walk into the priest's side of the confessional? Well, one thing is for sure, you cannot go non-contact at that point. I said, "Hello," and then I actually said, "I will see you in a second," and I shut the door.
     Bless me Father, for I have sinned. It has been 3 seconds since I saw you last, and in that time, I walked in on a priest during Confessions.
     We went again last night, and it was more of the same. Again, I realized that I did not have my reading glasses, so I dropped off the family, and went to the Dollar Store to get a cheap pair. All they had were purple and pink, but I didn't care... I would be the only one in the booth, and the priest wouldn't be able to see me... plus, it was Advent... the purple worked.
     When I returned to the church, Grace and Cheryl were near the front of the line, so I got in at the end. I waited and waited, and finally it was almost my turn. Once I had made it to the front of the line and was next to go, I felt it was safe to break out the new purple reading glasses to make sure that I could see my cheat sheet. As I was looking down, the priest calls  time out for a potty break. Seriously, don't you think he could have laid off of the coffee for just one night?
     My man scurried out of his side of the confessional, but only after the guy in front of me had safely checked in on the non-priest side. I was sure that the priest waited for him to get settled, so as not to embarras the guy. However, I was also sure that he got a good look at me standing at the front of the line, reading my cheat sheet in my purple glasses.
     As he came back from his bathroom break, he greeted me, and jumped back into the game. I was thinking about asking the guy behind me to switch, but then I thought, I have no idea what that guy is going to confess, and I don't want the priest thinking that I did something awful. I stayed in line with the idea that I could do damage control.
     Upon further reflection, switching with the guy behind me could have been a great opportunity for me to make myself look good. At least that guy may have actually known his Act of Contrition without relying on a cheat sheet.