A Tale of Two Confessors: Dealing with Habitual Moral Failure
Part 2 of 3 of ‘Towards a Theology of Failure’
Sacramentum Poenitentia, 1800
The story of 2 confessors
“You should not do this. It’s VERRRYYYY SINFUL you know!” The priest said to the penitent in a voice that reeked of disdain.
And proceeded to absolve him.
Shamed, the penitent left the confessional and wept. “I will never do this again,” he promised himself. “I do not want to be humiliated!”
He did it again.
And confessed again.
He went to other priests, of course.
There was one who mechanically replied, “say two Our Fathers, and your act of contrition.”
He confessed —and did it again. And again.
But did not mind going to that priest. He was unsure if the priest had even heard his sins. But at least he forgave without judging.
And then he met Fr M.
“Fr., I am really trying, I stick to a serious spiritual plan, and I am sick of it. I am wondering if you have anything to say to me.”
Fr M replied,
“There are worse things than unchaste acts, you know. Pride is probably worse. Humility and hope are often more difficult virtues to attain than chastity. The devil may think that he has got you with this habitual sin. But by confessing, God is drawing out in you, the virtues of humility and hope. So be encouraged! Come back again if you need!”
“Oh, and by the way, one Hail Mary will do.”
He wept again after leaving the confessional. But these were tears of joy — the joy of knowing that he was loved by the Lord and loved by the Lord’s representative.
He went back to confession, of course.
But has not confessed that sin since.
He knows that he might one day.
But Fr M’s sage advice was his turning point.
I think most of us would like to confess to priests like Father M. I would like to discuss three positive pastoral principles that can be drawn from Father M’s good example.
1. Father M began with the end in mind
In my reading of Thomas Aquinas, in his discussion on the capital sin of lust, I realise a paradox in his discussion of that vice. Aquinas notes that People fall into it quite easily. It is serious to be sure and risks putting one’s eternal salvation in jeopardy.[1] “Because of the strong pleasure therein, the higher powers, namely, reason and the will, necessarily suffer deficiency.” [2] In other words, one can infer that this would be a highly embarrassing experience due to a lack of self-mastery over a bodily instinct. And due to the embarrassment, people are often drawn towards at least regret. “Why did I give in so easily?” Regret is not yet repentance, but it is a necessary ingredient for repentance. In that sense, while lust is something dangerous, Aquinas does not consider it the most dangerous sin. [3]
On the other hand, Aquinas notes that pride is much more dangerous. [4]. Many proud people are proud to be proud. They see flaunting their achievements and boasting about themselves as socially acceptable. It is a purely spiritual sin. Being angelic beings, they are not susceptible to the pull of the flesh. But they fell through pride.
In the spiritual life, God may permit a fall into the sin of lust without willing the sin itself. He can draw good out of evil (Romans 8:28) as the fall can teach humility and temper pride, especially when a penitent confesses humbly and resolves with God’s grace to do better, then he is in a much better spiritual space than the other person, who may not have a chastity problem but is full of pride.
Hence, Father M’s advice was spot on. There are indeed worse things than unchastity. Better someone who cries out with “Lord be merciful to me a sinner” (Luke 18:13) than for someone who prays to himself saying “God, I thank you that I am not like other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector.” (Luke 18:11). For as our Lord declared one man went “down to his house justified rather than the other. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted.” (Luke 18:14)
2. Father M listened with compassion
The first priest listened. And while well-intentioned, his style was not helpful to the penitent. It was shame-based. And it deepened the penitent’s sense of deep disappointment with himself. And this disappointment becomes fuel for future vulnerability to the same temptation. Indeed, Peter Kleoponis, a Catholic psychologist, observes as much when he says that “many addicted people struggle with a deep shame from past emotional wounds. This fuels their addiction.” [5] The priest failed to recognize that this penitent was experiencing the dramatic struggle with habitual sin so poignantly painted by St. Paul: “For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing.” (Romans 7:19)
The other priests whom the penitent confessed to refrained from shaming. They do well in that regard. Nevertheless, the penitent left wondering if he had been listened to. Forgiveness through absolution was objectively dispensed to be sure, but whether the penitent felt that the priest was “the sign and the instrument of God’s merciful love for the sinner, the Good Shepherd who seeks the lost sheep, the Good Samaritan who binds up wounds” (CCC 1465) is another matter altogether.
Fr. M, on the other hand, embodied the qualities of the priest, articulated in the Catechism. He had a “proven knowledge of Christian behaviour, experience of human affairs, respect and sensitivity toward the one who has fallen, love of the truth, faithful to the Magisterium of the Church and leads the penitent with patience toward healing and full maturity” (CCC 1466).
Counselors are often asked if they listen to their clients to better help them. Experienced counselors will often reply, “When we listen with compassion, it is already helpful.” Fr M’s compassionate listening in that regard was extremely helpful.
3. Father M celebrated the sacrament with the law of gradualness in mind.
The law of gradualness was first proposed by Pope John Paul II when he observed that human beings “accomplish moral good by stages of growth.” [6] It must be immediately said that Fr. M’s application of gradualness did not apply to the renunciation of sin itself, which had to be immediate. Fr M, rather, focused on the reality that it is very likely that someone who renounced sin would have to struggle in his upward ascent towards sanctity. In this regard, he does what Pope Francis teaches in Amoris Laetitia that:
“Although she constantly holds up the call to perfection and asks for a fuller response to God, “the Church must accompany with attention and care the weakest of her children, who show signs of a wounded and troubled love, by restoring in them hope and confidence, like the beacon of a lighthouse in a port or a torch carried among the people to enlighten those who have lost their way or who are in the midst of a storm”. Let us not forget that the Church’s task is often like that of a field hospital. [7]” (Amoris Laetita 291)
Habitual sin, especially in the area of chastity, is a complex matter that will probably require a fuller treatment in a subsequent article. Nevertheless, this reality challenges the believer to question his definition of success and the victorious life. God, to be sure, wills our sanctification (1 Thessalonians 4:3). That ultimate victory which God wills may well be through the experience of failure which he permits. If failure, as the saying goes, is simply postponed success, then perhaps habitual moral failure is simply the postponement of the crown of life (Rev 2:10) that will be bestowed on us in the end if we recognise that “my grace is sufficient for thee. My power is made perfect in weakness.” (2 Cor 12:9)
