The man behind the screen

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wants to help you heal

Guest Columnist

Father Cody Chatagnier

“Afraid … anxious … scared … I really don’t want to go in there … But I need to go in there … Did I remember everything? Am I ready? How will the priest react when I tell him how long it’s been since my last confession? What if he knows me? What if he looks at me differently outside the confessional?” These are my thoughts and feelings when I sit outside the confessional waiting to go in to receive God’s mercy. I’ve been going to confession for over 30 years now; and for the past six years, I have been hearing confessions and imparting God’s mercy.

I know what it feels like to be on both sides of the screen, and I still get nervous before going into “the box.” I’ve never had a bad experience in confession. I always leave feeling relieved, peaceful, determined, like a weight has been lifted off of my chest. And yet, I’m still nervous before going in. I’m nervous because of the person on the other side of the screen. I’m nervous because I have to be vulnerable with a priest. I’m nervous because I know that I’m about to share my deepest, darkest sins to a human being.

My hope in writing this article is to shed light on the priest on the other side of the screen. Who is he? What is he trying to accomplish? Why is it a good thing that he is a flawed, sinful human being?

The beautiful mystery about the priest hearing confessions is that he is in the person of Christ and yet is still himself. Now, here I could dive deep into Sacramental Theology, but honestly, I’d rather focus more on the human side of the priest during the sacrament of reconciliation. So, I’d like to share my thoughts and desires when I hear confessions.

When someone walks into the confessional, my first priority is to make whoever is on the other side of the screen as comfortable as

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possible. I hope that I can help them to let go of all the fear and anxiety that is normally present before the sacrament begins. I want the penitent to understand that they are about to receive God’s mercy and grace. I want the penitent to know that I want to help and not hurt.

Sometimes the penitent speaks confidently and because of that I’m pretty sure it’s someone very familiar with the sacrament of reconciliation. At other times, the penitent isn’t quite sure what to do, so I’m able to help them along. And although I desire everyone to “know” how to go to confession, I am very happy to help the penitent with the “bless me Father for I have sinned,” the “act of contrition,” or any other parts of the sacrament. I’m happy because in that moment I’m not saying to myself “Oh here is another one of those people who doesn’t know what to do.”

What I’m actually thinking is “let me help this person to confess so we can get to a place where God can heal.” I’m also remembering my own childhood, where I struggled to memorize the act of contrition and how embarrassed I felt when the priest would ask me to recite it during confession.

This may come as a shock to you, but it’s no shock to me when someone tells me it has been a really long time since they have been to confession. I’ve witnessed people dramatically pause after saying how many years it has been since their last confession as if I’m supposed to wail on them for not going to confession every month or two weeks. When I hear a large period of time, I actually get excited. I’m excited because like the Father in the parable of the prodigal son, I get to welcome home the Father’s beloved child.

I want that particular confession to be a very positive experience for that person. I know what a struggle it is for the penitent to even enter the confessional in the first place. I know the mental torture, the shame, and the way we beat ourselves up when we know we have failed God’s expectations. But in the sacrament of reconciliation those things are just a distraction from what God desires to do in the penitent’s life.

Father Joshua Rodrigue used to share this story about a former pastor. That pastor on random days would always give the “harsh” penance of an entire rosary to everyone who came to the sacrament. Father Josh, being the prankster that he is, went to confession before the rest of the line and afterwards told those in the line, “Watch out! Father is giving out rosaries today.” One penitent replied back, “But Father! I didn’t do anything that bad!” The penitent was obviously objecting to the length of the penance.

Priests give a wide variety of penances. Whether the penance is a few Hail Marys or something much larger, I think it is important to understand the penance is supposed to help the penitent live a life of virtue. I often say the penance is like the prescription the doctor gives you after giving you a shot. The shot hopefully will do the heavy lifting but the prescription is to help the patient get over the illness. In the same way the penance is meant to help the penitent reject a particular vice and embrace a life of virtue.

When I hear confessions, I am fond of giving a penance that is based on sacred Scripture. After giving the penitent some advice, I usually pause for a second or two and ask God what he thinks can help? What normally comes in that moment of prayer is a particular story in sacred Scripture that relates to the penitent’s situation that I have the penitent meditate on as a penance.

After the penance is given, it’s my job to pray the prayer of absolution over the penitent. When I pray that prayer I feel great joy. The sacrament is ratified with that prayer. The most moving aspect about this moment is the very real shift in emotions. The penitent usually goes from anxious and sad to relieved and peaceful. For those faces that I can see, I observe a face filled with seriousness slowly shift to happiness.

As the penitent leaves the confessional, I leave you with these parting words. The priest on the other side of the screen wants to hear your confession. The priest on the other side of the screen wants to help you heal. The priest on the other side of the screen is a flawed human being, and that is a good thing because he can truly empathize and not just sympathize with our brokenness.

So, if you feel God calling you to go to confession and are concerned or hesitant, I hope I have helped to shed light on the man on the other side of the screen. Every priest may give different advice and penances, but what unites us is we are all in the person of Christ and have dedicated our lives to help you get to heaven. I hope to see you in “the box.” (Father Cody Chatagnier is the pastor of St. Ann Church parish in Bourg.) BC