SIN IS THE WORST THING IN THE WORLD.
It is, in fact, the only absolutely and unmitigatedly bad thing in the world. It is the worst thing in the world because it separates me from God. It is like a barrier, a thick curtain between me and Him. While it remains, I cannot see Him. Moreover, since He is the Light of the World, I cannot – as long as that barrier remains – see anything at all in proper perspective. But, above all, I cannot see Him, or have converse with Him.
And yet –
I CANNOT LIVE WITHOUT GOD.
I cannot, that is, live the only life that is proper for me, the only life that can satisfy me. Because I am made for God, He is my true end, my goal. Certainly, I am free to direct my aim towards other, lesser, nearer ends – wealth, for instance, or self-indulgence, power, fame, popularity. Yet if I have ever known God (and, yes, I have) I have know all the time in my heart of hearts that nothing less than He satisfies me. As Saint Augustine said: “My heart is restless until it rests in Thee.” And so it is that sin, which separates me from God, is the worst thing in the world.
WHAT IS SIN THAT IT SHOULD HAVE THIS DREADFUL EFFECT?
Sin is Disobedience – God asked me to do, or to be, something for Him; and I say: “No.” I turn my back on Him; and when I look back again, I cannot see Him. And I feel cold and lost and lonely. If I loved Him, I would delight in doing all that He asked. The full, happy, satisfying life foe me would be a life of unbroken, eager response. My refusal, my “No”, was unnatural. This barrier ought never to have been there. Sin is unnatural, unnecessary.
CAN THE BARRIER BE REMOVED?
The Remedy for Sin is Confession – Because the Son of God came down from heaven, and died upon the cross for me, there is a perfectly clear and simple way for me to get back after sin, into the warmth and brightness of God’s presence. “If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us; but if we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins; and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” The way back to God can be described in one word: Confession. It is the step into the light; it is to bring myself – and my sin, which is part of me – into the open. To do just that is to find that the barrier has vanished.
WHY AM I SO RELUCTANT TO GO TO CONFESSION?
Respectability Must Go - I cling to respectability. God is, of course, no respecter of persons. My revolt from Him was because of that. Why should He ask that of me? Why should He try to thrust that upon me? And so I turn away. I want to be respected. I want others to respect me. But, above all, I want to respect myself.
Self Respect Blinds Me – I will not recognize my faults, my flaws, my foulness. The Devil, the “father of lies” (and of half-truths, which are more subtle than lies) backs me up. For instance: “It was not my fault entirely.” (That, to begin with; then, in time, I may be able to forget that I ever did it.) And of course in was not “all my fault.” I do not have to say it was. How could it be all my fault? I am not a self-contained entity. I am a member of the human race, “bound up in the bundle of life.” Neither my sins, nor their consequences – however private they seemed – are entirely mine. Nevertheless, unless I can say my acts and omissions that fundamentally they were mine, I am either a robot (which I know that I am not), or else an irresponsible madman.
I Want Others To Respect Me Too – Confessions to God is, in a sense, unnecessary. God already knows – and he knows me better that I know myself. Confession is therefore first and foremost to myself. And that is the hardest part. But it is not all. I have to confess, not only to Blessed Mary, to all the saints, and to the whole Church – but also “to you, Father.” Yes, there’s the rub. I know in theory that he must not be shocked. I know in theory the he must afterwards act towards me as thought he did not know. And I can well believe that after hearing several confessions he would find it difficult, even if he tried, to remember which penitents confessed which sins. In theory, again, I agree with Plato – that when a man has sinned, the worst thing that can happen to him is not to be found out. And yet, so deep is my desire to cut a figure in people’s eyes that I shrink from baring my shame to the eyes of even one man. And my desire to retain the respect of others is an incentive to self deception.
I MUST PREPARE MY HEART FOR CONFESSION
It is here that the real problem lies. I deceive myself by imagining practical (perhaps also pseudo-theological) difficulties. I knew a boy who was about to be confirmed. His mother asked: “Should I help prepare your confession?” He was an only son, and a good boy. She was taken aback by his reply: “No thanks,” he said, “all I need is a sharp pencil and plenty of paper.” All I want and need is self-knowledge.
Let me not find false comfort in the pettiness of my sins – some slight omissions, some inconsiderable commissions. May it not be the case that I am too mean and timid to play the cat-burglar or the Don Juan? Mortal or venial? The distinction lies not merely in the act itself, but the degree of deliberation and knowledge with which I did it. And even venial sins blur my vision of Him, and blunt my resistance to more severe tests of my loyalty and love.
TO KNOW GOD IS TO KNOW MYSELF.
We are back at the beginning; I cannot see Him as before. But I can recollect Him. I cannot, in fact, forget Him. I know – yes, I know – my utter need of Him. Do I love Him still and want Him? Yes, I do. Then I will arise and go to my Father, and say to him that I have sinned. And when I have found Him, I will never leave Him again. “For In His presence is the fullness of joy.”
How to Prepare for Confession
