I have a secret, I lied at my first confession, in Church. I was nine. Sorry, I set you up for juicy but this is all I got. For most of the year I was prepping for my first Communion by attending a Saturday Catechism class in addition to going to church on Sundays. My grandmother loved this, all of it. The classes, the Sunday attendance in Church and my very first confession to a Priest. I was so nervous. What on Earth was I supposed to confess? I had nothing to confess! I didn’t have any sins yet…I think. I had jut learned about Adam and Eve, the Snake and the Apple. Nothing. I didn’t even like apples.
I didn’t want to let my grandma down and I certainly had to go thru with the confession to make it to Communion. I had ripped out the picture of a bride in a white dress from a wedding magazine to have a mini replica made just for me. So, I took grandma’s suggestions about possible sins I had committed. “I lied to my parents…I disobeyed my parents by talking back at them (didn’t remember when but whatever). I can’t remember the few things I ended up saying so that I could make up my quota of sins for the age of nine. It is true, you do feel better after confession. I felt accomplished, relieved to be done with the torment of creating fake sins. I thought the priest might call me out and say “Liar! These aren’t sins.” He didn’t. Or that God would send a signal down to but he didn’t. I started believing my sins. Maybe I did talk back to my parents after all… God took care of me.
I remember going into the wooden, brown, confession booth, it was a bit creepy but fun because it reminded me of old movies and grownup things. Did my grandmother really think I had to do this? Oh well. I did and I lied to make it happen. The beginning of my sinful days. I hate lies actually. I think lies attempts to distort our already distorted reality. I never confessed again, until my teen years when it was time for Confirmation into the Catholic faith. I do not remember that confession. 🙂
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