• All may, none must, some should.

    The title of this post indicates the teaching that many Anglicans/Episcopalians would give to people when asked what Anglican teaching about the sacrament of confession is. It isn’t defined anywhere I don’t think though the practise of the church and canon law back it up.

    Ash Wednesday seems to me to be an appropriate day to say something about it.

    At most of our services in St Mary’s we make a general confession, usually for us near the start of the service. In its modern form, it goes like this:

    God our Father, we confess to you
    and to our fellow members in the Body of Christ
    that we have sinned in thought, word and deed,
    and in what we have failed to do.
    We are truly sorry.
    Forgive us our sins,
    and deliver us from the power of evil,
    for the sake of your Son who died for us,
    Jesus Christ, our Lord.

    Then, whoever conducts the service says:

    God, who is both power and love,
    forgive us and free us from our sins,
    heal and strengthen us by his Spirit,
    and raise us to new life in Christ our Lord. Amen.

    This exchange is a form of corporate confession. Together we get the chance to think about all that is going on in our lives that we would like to change for the better. We get to voice the idea that sometimes we do things that are wrong. We are then reassured of God’s forgiveness. Crucially, we have to assent to that with an Amen. (Forgiveness doesn’t just have to be given, it has to be received). And then we get on with the business of being joyful, hopeful and blessed in serving the world.

    I think that a corporate confession is important as it can also be useful to bring to mind those times when we are not simply involved in doing personal wrongs but are also implicated in systems and powers beyond our own immediate control. The idea that we are aware of those and want to change them is central, I think, to what it means to bring an offering of worship to a God who is holy and true and who desires the best for us.

    I wouldn’t say that the “All may, none must, some should” admonition applies to the corporate confession of the church. No indeedy. I think that is for everyone who is part of the church and everyone who wants to find a way, through the life of the church to live in friendship with God.

    The “All may, none must, some should” thing applies to people chosing to seek out a priest to hear their confession individualy. Sometimes people are surprised that this is on offer in the Scottish Episcopal Church, thinking that it is “just something for the catholics”. It isn’t, of course. We offer all the sacraments in this church – the whole shebang, and the sacrament of reconcilliation is one of them.

    I don’t find that it is something that very many people take up. I do find that those who do sometimes find it life changing.

    This is how it works.

    Firstly, it is canon law that if someone wants to make their confession and approaches a priest, the priest needs to offer to hear that confession or point the person to another priest who can hear it. (Yes, that’s the law!)

    If someone approaches me, I usually arrange to see them in my office first. I offer the person the chance to talk about what it is that they want to bring in confession and what it is about their life tha they want to turn around. They may ask for advice. I may have something to say. Sometimes something from the Bible will pop into my mind and I’ll share that. Essentially though this is about listening.

    Then we’ll go into church and I’ll hear a formal confession in a quiet corner of a chapel. I’ll wear a purple stole and we will follow a simple liturgy together. (Something like this one: http://www.bcponline.org/PastoralOffices/reconciliation.htm). The person brings to God the things that they want to confess. God will hear them. And then the absolution assures them that they have been heard and forgiven. Then we part, usually with me asking them to pray for me, a sinner.

    Now, the deal is that you don’t talk about what is said in confession. One of the gifts that God gives me is that I tend to forget what people say anyway. (I’ve heard other priests say the same). However it is important to know that the seal of the confessional is supposed to apply to the penitant not just to the priest.

    Of course, it doesn’t always work like this. I vaguely remember someone once stopping me in a railway station and asking to make a confession there and then. I heard it and he knelt to hear forgiveness and the world was still for the two of us whilst the bustle of daily life carried on all around. You see that kind of thing in other countries more than here but it happens.

    People often have questions about confession. “What if you hear a confession of someone who is about murder someone?”, “What if they’ve done X?”, “What if …?”, “Would you ever go to the police?”, “Would you ever withold absolution?”

    Almost always these are the questions that movies are made out of, not penitence.

    So there we are. It exists. And it changes life. And all may, none must and some should, as I said at the top of this piece and as the church goes on saying as it offers the sacraments to all the world.

9 responses to “The Lament Question”

  1. kimberly Avatar

    ask it in the singular, and the answer is: because you’re a four.

    you’ll have me playing the funeral ikos next.

  2. kimberly Avatar

    the other answer is about possibility being revealed in limits.

  3. kelvin Avatar

    Its not just me though, and not just fours.

  4. Aaron Orear Avatar

    I think because sorrow touches the core of the human condition – we are mortal but can perceive immortality. “He has made everything suitable for its time; moreover he has put a sense of past and future into their minds, yet they cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to the end.” (Eccl. 3:11)

  5. Erp Avatar
    Erp

    I understand Aristotle talks about catharsis and various philosophers have followed up on that idea.

    Perhaps it arouses sadness both from the art itself but also from our own sources festering within and allows us to let go. We feel better for the letting go, the lessening of our own internal sadness, and so perceive the art as beautiful.

  6. RosemaryHannah Avatar
    RosemaryHannah

    Kimberly was there before me. However, even I, a nine, can sometimes see the beauty in sad things. For me they do two things (may be more but two are most obvious). The first is the catharsis thing. The second is to make me less lonely. Look, here am I weeping, but all around me people sit in the same sorrow. It is not just my sorrow – I am not alone.

    I have long thought there is another answer, one I do not properly understand but I have (I think – and who am I to think it). Deep in God there is a huge well of sorrow. Unless we experience sorrow we cannot understand God. When we sorrow we tap into that well, and become closer to him.

    And being a nice cheerful nine, I will now add that I live in hope that having sorrowed with him, we will share also and even more fully in the joy which swallows the sorrow. Delete this last paragraph from your mind on reading, it will only spoil the joy of the sorrow.

  7. Elizabeth Avatar
    Elizabeth

    Edgar Allan Poe said the most beautiful thing in the world is a beautiful, dead woman. Nice, eh?

  8. Ritualist Robert Avatar
    Ritualist Robert

    Surely it’s because the concept of beauty is independent from concepts such as ‘sadness’ and ‘happiness’ – just as a G major chord might be loud or soft, but that volume has no effect on its G major-ness.

  9. Steve Avatar
    Steve

    I remember Augustine saying (don’t ask me where) that for a picture to be beautiful it requires dark colours as well as bright.

    There is also a hint of an answer in this poem by Edwin Muir:

    Yet still from Eden springs the root
    As clean as on the starting day.
    Time takes the foliage and the fruit
    And burns the archetypal leaf
    To shapes of terror and of grief
    Scattered along the winter way.
    But famished field and blackened tree
    Bear flowers in Eden never known.

    Blossoms of grief and charity
    Bloom in these darkened fields alone.
    What had Eden ever to say
    Of hope and faith and pity and love
    Until was buried all its day
    And memory found its treasure trove?
    Strange blessings never in Paradise
    Fall from these beclouded skies.

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