Confession

The sliding screen of the compartment opens.

“Hello there. What would you like to talk about?” The priest greets as he makes the Sign of the Cross.  

The confessional door closes quietly behind the visiting stranger. Faced away from his host, the stranger responds in a trembling voice.

“Bless me Father for I have sinned. This is my first time at confession. What I must say weighs heavy on my conscience.”

“Welcome.  I am quite new to this as well I must admit but confessionals are always available to us to come before God and receive his forgiveness for our sins. Shall we begin?”

“I have coveted Father.”

“Ohh.  Never fear, my child, the grace of God knows no bounds”

“Please listen!” the stranger interrupts. The sternness in his voice clues the priest to be attentive.  Through the lattice the priest examines his guest. At first glance he notices his hands are fidgeting uncontrollably. While the hood of his trench coat covers his face, only a portion is visible but not enough to make a distinction of whom he could be.

“Pardon me. Please, continue.”

“I am a bastard child of a father who was happily married. I never knew him but my mother loved him, loved him until her dying day. Yet this… love, was not returned and all she had in memory of their one night stand was me. By the time I was 15 my mother had been diagnosed with Cancer. Unable to pay for treatment or hospital fees…. With the little information I was given about this man, I sought him out. I sought him out only to help us… to try helping her. Within a year, I found him. A Man For The People said a billboard sign as I made my way to his estate. I met him there for the first time. Before a word was said, he commanded me to get off his property. He knew who I was. He knew why I was there. I pleaded with him to hear me out but he was adamant he did not want anything to do with me and in turn… my dying mother. I never understood why she had loved this man, yet as I drove away and saw the image of his picture perfect family in my rear view mirror I knew I hated him. That same year my mother died.”

The rolling sound of thunder ordered a moment of silence from the stranger. The priest’s eyes scanned the stranger once more who had not moved an inch since he sat. He continued.

“My hate for this man grew and swelled into anger. For several years I watch him and his perfect family as they paraded around, waiting for a moment to have them bare my hate! To extract my vengeance! To show them how I felt for what he had done. Twenty-five years I waited. Solemnly in the darkness. Until finally…. I struck!” The stranger coughed as he tried to compose himself.

“What are you saying? The sins of one should not be a reason to punish the many my son.” The priest insisted.

“Is that so? Then why did my mother and I suffer for his?” the stranger managed to respond. “I killed them Father. I killed them!” the chilling voice of the stranger followed with another roll of thunder. The priest had found his most troubling confession yet this night as he sat back in his chair.

“I already knew where the spare key beneath the Olive pot was hidden so I crept into his house while they were all fast asleep. I tied him to his favorite arm chair… the one with the awkward squeak whenever he sat… then butchered his wife before his eyes. I had to resist the desire to slit his throat so I slowly tortured him. I removed his legs and left him tied there, in his favorite chair… and set his house on fire. He knew who I was. He knew why I was there.” There was a slight moment of silence from both booths.

“What you have told me is very disturbing my child. As written in Romans 12:19 Dearly beloved, avenge not yourselves, but rather give place unto wrath: for it is written, Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord.”

“Vengeance.” whispers the stranger “Vengeance.”

“My son, this confession is protected by the Seal of the Confessional, therefore it is absolutely forbidden for a confessor to betray in any way a penitent in words or in any manner and for any reason. However, I would like to encourage you to take this matter to the authorities”

“I am here to confess to you what I have done and that is all. In fact I actually feel better. Please forgive me Father.”

“I am just his humble servant.  It is never the priest who forgives the sin, but Christ using the priest to bestow forgiveness on the people he loves. Listen to the words of absolution that we say:  God, the Father of mercies, through the death and the resurrection of his Son has reconciled the world to himself and sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins; through the ministry of the Church may God give you pardon and peace, and I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”

“That's beautiful.” Replies the stranger as he walks out the booth.

From the opposite door the priest stands as he watches this hooded visitor walk away into the thundering rain outside the church.

“Father Allen” A nun beckons.

“Yes?” the priest responds with his eyes fixed on the church entrance where the guest had gone.

“I have some urgent news for you. There was a fire at your parent’s home.”