2nd Sunday of Easter (Confession and the Seal)

We’re a week removed from Holy Week, from all that went so wrong: the abandonment of Jesus’ friends, his arrest, suffering and death. Today’s Gospel follows up that mess, as Jesus suddenly appears to his friends, who were gathered like frightened bunnies. Instead of anger or assigning guilt, he mercifully says, “Peace be with you”.

          It’s a curious thing that Jesus shows them his wounds, and that he bears them at all. These are not quite the wounds we contemplated on Good Friday, wounds borne of our sins. As Jesus was Resurrected and thus transformed, so were his wounds. St. Gertrude the Great (D. 1302) once describe a vision of Jesus, in which he extended his hand to her, revealing his wounds, appearing like radiant jewels.

         

Jesus again said, “Peace be with you” and breathed on the disciples, saying, “Receive the holy Spirit”. Some describe this as John’s version of the Pentecost event, how the disciples came to receive the Holy Spirit. This Holy Spirit was to be what consecrated and empowered the disciples for continuing Jesus’ work of mercy.

But then the risen Jesus connected the Holy Spirit with the power to forgive sins: “Whose sins you forgive are forgiven them, and whose sins you retain are retained.” He gave them authority to take away people’s sins, that is, to administer God’s mercy, through the power of the Holy Spirit. The Sacrament of Reconciliation is rooted in this charge that Jesus gives his disciples, the first priests, ordained on Holy Thursday.

 

As a priest, I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know, in saying that it’s a sacrament that is too often feared and misunderstood by the faithful. Yet most priests will tell you it’s a great grace to serve as that conduit, the bridge between a penitent and their merciful Father, helping them to find healing, a way forward.

          But in addition to being too often feared and misunderstood, it’s a sacrament that arouses curiosity in people, perhaps especially non-Catholics. Maybe it’s because of any number of movies made through the years that incorporate a person, after having committed a deadly crime, confessing to a priest (e.g. Alfred Hitchcock’s I Confess). And because the priest is bound by the seal of confession, it gives way to a moral dilemma, and thus a dramatic and suspenseful plot.

          But after years of hearing confessions, in my experience it’s not so dramatic. I don’t recall ever having someone titillate themselves by telling me their horrid acts, because they knew I could do nothing about. Nor have I been backed into a moral dilemma. It’s not that I’ve never heard serious and destructive sin confessed, but in real life, contrary to what’s characterized by Hollywood, what’s at work is that a person is genuinely trying to move forward, to get unstuck. They come seeking help and God’s grace.

 

I mention this on this Divine Mercy Sunday, in part because there’s a currently proposed Washington State Bill (SB 5280) that seeks to do away with the seal of confession in certain circumstances, such as child abuse and neglect. You should know that priests are already mandated reporters, except in the confessional.

         

Even as we all want to prevent child abuse, I think this proposed bill is problematic. You might wonder: Really? Why would we want to protect child abusers through a sacrament Jesus gave us? Why would we want them to get away scot-free? Don’t we believe in civil justice? Don’t we care about children, especially given our past offenses as a Church, our self-inflicted wounds?

I’ve spoken and written on how priest abusers have caused us all such pain and embarrassment. But the fact is, in the instance where someone does confess something criminal, the priest has the opportunity to move the person to making things right, to seek retribution and even submit themselves to authorities.

          If this bill is approved, the likely outcome would be that a person having committed abuse would not come to the confessional at all, and we would lose the opportunity to help them move in the right direction. While we can and must do all we can as a society to protect children, I don’t believe that violating the seal of confession will help.

 

I consider the story of the woman caught in adultery (Jn 8:3-11), a criminal offense in Jesus’ culture. Today we may be inclined to think her crime is no big deal, but in Jesus’ time it was punishable by death. Alone with Jesus, he freed the woman from her accusers, but he also called her to sin no more. That’s the model we seek in the sacrament he gave us.

          Jesus said to his disciples, “As the Father has sent me, so I send you...Whose sins you forgive are forgiven them, and whose sins you retain are retained.” When a priest celebrates the sacrament of reconciliation, he is fulfilling this command.

         

          Less than 100 years in Mexico was the Cristero War, in which the secular government sought to eradicate Christianity. A priest by the name of Mateo Correa Magallanes—incidentally, the priest who gave First Communion to the popular martyr, Blessed Miguel Pro—had been accused of being part of the Christian rebellion and was arrested.

While in jail, he was commanded by the secular authorities to hear confessions of other Christian prisoners. He did as requested, but was then asked to reveal what had been confessed. He refused to comply, even at gunpoint, saying, "Don't you know, general, that a priest must guard the secret of confession? I am ready to die." He was martyred the following morning, February 6th, 1927. Father Magallanes was canonized in 2000 by Pope John Paul II, and is among others who have been martyred and imprisoned for refusing to break the seal of confession.

The confidentiality and integrity of the sacrament must be preserved so that individuals are able to freely unburden their souls, but also to give way to true healing. For love of the faithful, even as we seek to protect children, I will not violate your trust. I will not break the seal of confession.

McKenzi VanHoof