2/25/2015
Last night was Trason’s First
Confession. We decided to risk it all
and bring the whole family. It was not
without consequence.
We were careful with Liam. Anything having to do with Church in the
evening is always a dangerous venture with Liam. Although he has learned not to stim or rock
in Church, he can still surprise us if he is tired, lying down on the pew or declaring his boredom loudly. After a long day at school, homework and
general tiredness, Liam will usually express his frustration with a long-winded
homily by blurting out some unexpected thought loudly and at the most inappropriate time. I call Liam's unfiltered thought expressions a generous distribution of humility from God.
We managed to get through the First
Reconciliation service without too many disruptions from Liam. There was a reading from the New Testament, a
reading from the Gospel, two songs and a brief homily by the pastor. Liam weathered it all in quiet. I was so proud of my big guy. He was really beginning to demonstrate some
real, big-brother-behavior forTrason. Trason often spars with Liam for fun, Tonight, he was
the biggest squirm-bot. Seven o’clock in
the evening on a Wednesday is a struggle for him too. Plus, the poor kid was nervous, so a little
relief from Liam would have been a welcome treat. No such luck tonight. Liam was stellar.
It was nearing the end of the
ceremony. It was time to kneel for the
Examination of Conscience. This part of
the service was critical for the little penitents to review their behavior, consider
their intentions, weigh the guilt buried within their little souls and
recognize their sorrow for infractions that may (or may not) be sinful. It is the cornerstone of good, old-fashioned,
Catholic guilt. It is a necessary component in the process to help the little ones identify consequences in their behavior. Guilt (from committing a sin) can be helpful
in recognizing the negative risks involved in future behavior, so it serves a
vital function. In the Sacrament of
Reconciliation, it is needed for the process to move from recognition of sin to remorse and seeking forgiveness. Without guilt, we may
never feel the need to ask for forgiveness.
Too much guilt can lead to despair. It is a delicate yet fundamental task to achieve
as a catechist and one we all know can result in pushing away a penitent as adults.
Life circumstances are the reason for this problem. If a child is abused or made to
feel they are not worthy of love a parent's love, guilt acts as a pile of rocks on their chest,
preventing them from simply breathing. I
can spot these kids a mile away. The
boys are aggressive and lash out in anger at the smallest things. The girls cry
a lot; a WHOLE lot. They struggle with
finding any self-worth and despair often fills their tiny hearts. I know.
I was one of these little girls.
The guilt from saying the wrong thing, which I often did, led my mother to rant for hours, telling
me how stupid I was. A molehill was
often made into a mountain. One time, in
my adolescence, she actually said she didn’t know why I bothered even going to
church, I was such a lousy Christian. That
was the lowest point. It wasn’t long
after that incident I became suicidal and sought help.
When guilt is liberally dispensed
by a parent, either in word or action, it communicates to a child that there is
little hope for them. Despair is the
product of unrelenting guilt left unchecked.
It can create a sense of worthlessness that only God can fix. In the adult mind, we will reject guilt at
some point in an effort to protect our fragile self-concept. However, children rarely have the skills
necessary to insulate their developing self-concepts in that manner. They internalize it to the point where even
the most extreme, unreasonable accusation of wrongdoing or blame is
accepted. It becomes part of their core
personality, a catalyst for struggle in years to come.
So when the examination of
conscience began, I hadn’t really considered who was doing it. It was a priest who had been a missionary in a
very poverty stricken area of the world. He has seen severe deprivation and knows how much ungrateful Americans truly have. His disgust with us sometimes comes across in his homilies. He has a way
of delivering guilt in a manner that can make a grown man cry. He is sometimes angry sounding and his
preaching has been described as judgmental.
The tone of delivery can change everything in how a person hears
something, and it never crossed my mind what tone I was hearing from this
particular priest when he spoke. It just
took me back to the days when my mother ranted at me for not mopping the floor
well enough or leaving a school book on her kitchen counter.
The litany for the examination of
conscience began. Did I hit my brother
or sister? Was I good in church, or did
I disturb others and make noise at Mass? This one caused me to be triggered. I have often
felt guilty for the noises, sniffs, snorts and bodily expulsions of gas that
Liam lets out in church. I am not laying blame on Liam. I just know how I felt the actions of my son were my fault. I wasn’t alone.
When Father got to the question, “Did
you do your best in school?” Liam burst out a defensive “YES!” Liam tries so hard in school, often without the results the teachers expect, so he knows how it feels to take responsibility for something he cannot control. The other children giggled. I giggled too, thankful for the relief from
guilt. Little did I know, Liam started a
trend with the other kids. Every
question asked by Father was given resounding responses of “YES!” or “NO!” from
the other kids, in unison. Father grew
frustrated, thwarted from dispensing the required amount of guilt upon his little penitents. No matter how much
judgmental tone he used, he could not sway the kids from responding from the
rhetorical queries. By the time he
finished, he looked defeated, beaten down by a kid with autism and a bunch of
second grade kids.
Whenever Liam does anything, I usually
discover it comes with a message from God.
Today was no different. The
message delivery was assisted by the other children after Liam started the
response litany. The message was meant
for all those who are plagued by unrelenting and undeserved guilt. It was also meant for all those who stand in
judgment of others, just like Father.
Whether we are right in our judgment or not, we act as the older brother
in the Prodigal Son parable, expecting harsh action from a Loving Father who
simply wants to embrace us, love us and rejoice at our return.
The consequence of our actions, intentional or not, continue
to exist. We still have to face poor
grades in school, whether from a lack of capacity or a lack of effort. I still confront the dread of seeing all those people
who sit behind my son when he passes gas at Mass. God doesn’t wave a magic wand
and remove the effects of our sin on our life circumstances. However, God does want us to know that He loves us and
forgives us.
God won’t give us the skunk eye for
our kids, which may be a good lesson for the little ladies with bluish white hair. God won't impose guilt after we have said we are sorry for what we have done. We do that. Perhaps God was generously distributing the gift of humility on Father today. Judging by his expression as he walked away from the lectern, it was definitely a lesson in something!
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