Holy Saturday

During one of my periodic unsuccessful attempts to re-enter Catholicism I decided to go to confession on Holy Saturday and then Easter Mass.

 Small problem: I was defiant and resentful when I went into the confessional. I recognized the priest as Father Bill – retired from St. Louis, MO (pun intended) and an acquaintance of mine. He did not recognize me.

 He opened the little door. I said something like, “I want you to know I don’t really think this going to do much good.” Very gently he asked if I had any sins to confess? I laid my sins out and expected to get the usual three Our Fathers and three Hail Marys.

 Instead he granted absolution and said, “for your penance, be extra good to your mom this Easter.” 

I had been to confession at least a thousand times before in my life so I wasn’t expecting much. Instead, I found solace and a sense of gratitude.

Bill died last year. I’m glad that I told him several times over the years that he was the best confessor I ever had. And he always reacted with surprised delight.