Merciful mutterings

Pat Archbold's had a few good points in his Supply side of Mercy posting. I have to agree with his assessment, where he suggests that if we are to encourage the sacrament of confession, we need to make it available and present to the ones who need it the most. When I was in France, I noticed that the year of the priest really made an impact on the priesthood. St. John Vianney's example inspired many to offer the sacrament of confession at all sorts of hours. In one church, I noticed they promised to have a priest available for the sacrament from ~8:30-12:00 and again from 14:30-17:00, a luxury indeed these days.

Fortunately, the confessor was different from the priest celebrating mass at 9, noon and 1700. People naturally lined up for confession as they walked in for mass. Confession was in this clear glass case, so people could see the priest hearing confession (the penitent was behind the screen). The call to penitents was loud and clear. That silent calling pierces the conscience and nags way better than any loudmouth shrew ever could.

Pat talks about the limited hours for confession and yes, they are. He points out that confession by appt doesn't really work for the ones who sorely need it. (It works for loonies like me who'll gladly confess in a store, office, moving vehicle, park bench, stadium, living room, hallway or public venue... and yes I have all of the above... not ashamed of it 'cause I walked away a saint each and every time. Well sometimes I sat a saint but that doesn't have the dramatic flair of walking away.)

Archbold's analogy to supply side economics however, made me think of another, my dad and fishing. See my dad loves to fish. He goes and collects all his gear, worms, lures and parks his butt on a stump, in a boat, on  a pier (basically, anywhere near water) and sits. Honestly, I think the man can go for days on a bag of cheesy poofs. He gets all excited when the fish bites even if it gets away. At the end of the day, even if he's only caught one or two, it was a fabulous day. There are the stories of the ones that got away of course. You see it doesn't matter to him that he wasted his day parked in the sun hoping a fish would bite his line, what mattered was that he was THERE. Being there made all the difference in the world.

That being said, God's doling out mercy. Get your butts to a confessional or if you're like me, to a park bench near you.