Answering Some Common Objections to Confession

 

(Fourth Sunday of Lent (C):  This homily was given on March 30, 2025 at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I., by Fr. Raymond Suriani.  Read Luke 15:1-3, 11-32.)

[For the audio version of this homily, click here: Fourth Sunday of Lent 2025]

In the early 1990s, Professor Scott Hahn gave a series of lectures entitled, “Answering Common Objections to the Catholic Faith.”  Well, along those same lines, you might choose to entitle this homily, “Answering Some Common Objections to Confession.”  I don’t think it’s a secret to any one of us that many Catholics today avoid receiving this particular sacrament.  And they happily use any and every excuse to justify their avoidance.  Well today, with the help of the parable we just heard from Luke 15, I will do my best to address some of the more common excuses that are given.  Which means that, when I’m finished, no one here who is above the age of reason and canonically in good standing in the Church, will have any reason to stay away any longer.  So let’s begin . . .

Objection # 1 to receiving the sacrament: “I’ve been away too long.  I haven’t been to confession for so many years that I wouldn’t even know what to do or say in there.  In fact, the roof of the church would probably fall in on me.”  Well, the good news is we’re having a new roof put on the church in a few weeks so if it does cave in that won’t be a problem.  But the fact is, the roof has never fallen in on anybody—not even on the man who once came to me in the confessional and said he hadn’t received the sacrament in over 60 years.  And with regard to knowing the formula and the prayers: the priest will help you.  All you need to know when you walk through the door are your sins.  Thanks be to God, the son in this story didn’t think that he had been away for too long.  If he had, he might have died of starvation, without ever being forgiven.

Which brings us to objection #2: “I don’t know my sins.”  Here we have to make a distinction: some people don’t know what their sins are, and they don’t care to find out what their sins are.  They are quite content in their ignorance.  Good luck to them on Judgment Day!  But there are others who do sincerely want to come to terms with their sins, but they don’t know how to go about it.  To these people I would say, “Find a good examination of conscience.”  An examination of conscience will help you to reflect on your life, so that you can get in touch with your sins.  If you need an examination of conscience, see me—I have one that I give out to people all the time (one that’s based on the Ten Commandments).  There are also some good ones that you can get online.  “But, Father Ray, I’ve examined my conscience and I still don’t see my sins.”  Well, obviously you’re not examining yourself thoroughly enough—because the Bible makes it quite clear that all of us are sinners.  If this is your predicament then I would say: think of the son in this story.  When did this young man finally come to recognize his sin?  The answer is: when he was hungry and alone.  When he was doing penance and alone with God.  So I would say “Follow that example.  Fast, and spend some extra time in prayer—alone—perhaps here in church in front of the Blessed Sacrament.”  If you really want to get in touch with your sins so that you can repent of them and be free of them, that might be the key.  It certainly worked for the prodigal son.  Or if you’re married and you want to save time, just ask your husband or wife to tell you your sins!  I’m sure they’d be more than happy to do that!

Objection # 3: I don’t need a priest to have my sins forgiven.”  True.  You don’t need a priest, you need God.  He’s the only one who can forgive sins and take them away.  But the question is: How does God normally work?  How does God normally impart his forgiveness to us?  This is actually the same question we face in relation to physical healing.  The fact is that you don’t need a doctor to be healed of a terminal illness.  God can heal you totally and completely without any medical treatment whatsoever.  That can happen.  That has happened.  But, if you know you are seriously ill, you should go to a doctor and get the best medical treatment possible.  Why?  Because God normally transmits his healing to us in that way.  He doesn’t need doctors, but he uses them as his effective instruments of healing under normal circumstances.  And, under normal circumstances, this is how the Lord transmits his forgiveness to us for serious sins.  He does it through human beings. You know, every Christian who believes what the Bible teaches, believes that Baptism brings a person the forgiveness of sins.  If someone is baptized as an adult, all of the sins that person committed up until that moment are forgiven.  They’re wiped away.  But how is the person baptized?  The person is baptized with water by another human being!  So in Baptism the forgiveness comes from God, but it comes through a sinful human person.  And it’s the same in the sacrament of Confession.  The forgiveness comes from God, but through the instrumentality of the priest.  And all priests have received this power from Jesus, who said to his apostles, “Whose sins you shall forgive, they are forgiven them.”  Do we see this truth illustrated in this parable?  Yes we do!  How is the prodigal son forgiven?  Does he hear a voice from heaven that says to him, “Yes, young man, I can see that you are sorry so I forgive you”?  No!  He's forgiven through his father.

One more point needs to be added here.  Notice what the son says when he comes home.  He says, “Father, I have sinned against God and against you.”  The boy was right.  He knew something that a lot of Catholics forget.  He knew that sin is not just an issue between me and God.  It’s not a private affair.  It’s an issue between me, God and other people!  Every sin we commit in some way affects others.  Which is another reason why the sacrament of Confession is so important.  The Church teaches that when he hears a confession, the priest represents Jesus and the community.  In other words, he represents God and all those individuals that we’ve hurt by our sins.  So when we are reconciled in the sacrament, we are reconciled vertically and horizontally: we’re reconciled with the Lord and with the community. 

Quickly, now, a couple of other objections: “I believe God forgives me anyway, whether I confess my sins or not.”   Well, it is true, God continually offers us his forgiveness.  But just because a person is offered forgiveness, that does not mean the person will actually receive forgiveness.  The father in this story had forgiven his son in his heart long before his son ever came home.  That’s why he was at the window watching for him with eager anticipation.  But the son did not receive his dad’s forgiveness until he actually repented in his heart and made the journey back home.  Which is what we do in Confession, is it not?   We come back home, in repentance, to our heavenly Father.

“Father, I don’t think Confession would do me any good, my sin is too serious.”  That objection is answered in today’s second reading from 2 Corinthians 5: “For our sakes God made him who did not know sin to be sin, so that in him we might become the very holiness of God.”  That means, quite simply, that Jesus, through his blood, paid the price for every sin that ever would be committed, including our sin.  That blood washes us clean in Baptism and in Confession.  In fact, Bishop Sheen used to say that when a priest raises his hand in the confessional to absolve a penitent, the blood of Christ is dripping from his fingers.

And finally, this objection: “Why should I go to confession?  I commit the same sins over and over again.”  Do you think for one minute that the prodigal son was perfect after he returned home?  Do you think that he never offended his father again?  I’m quite sure he did.  And I’m quite sure he knew he would—because he realized that he was a weak, fallible person.  But praise God, that knowledge that he would probably hurt his dad again did not keep him from going back home in the first place.  He didn’t say to himself, “Oh what’s the use?  In a couple of months I’ll probably do something else just as stupid as this.” Now hopefully his future offenses were less serious.  But even if they weren’t, there’s no reason for us to believe that his father would not have forgiven him again.   And so it is with us.  Our intention when we go to confession should be to avoid the sins we’re confessing in the future.  But even if we don’t avoid them, we can still go back to our heavenly Father in the sacrament.

Bishop Sheen once said that there are two possible attitudes with respect to sin: we can fall down, and get up; or we can fall down, and stay there.  The prodigal son got up.  Now that these common objections to Confession have been addressed, we have no reason for not doing the very same thing.  So, I trust that I (or some other priest) will see you soon—in Confession.

Too Many Pilates, and not Enough Baudouins

 

King Baudouin

(Third Sunday of Lent (C): This homily was given on March 23, 2025 at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I., by Fr. Raymond Suriani.  Read Exodus 3:1-15; Psalm 103:1-11; 1 Cor 6:1-6, 10-12; Luke 13:1-9.)

[For the audio version of this homily, click here: Third Sunday of Lent 2025]

When it comes to secular leaders in the world today, I would say there are far too many Pilates, and far too few Baudouins. We heard a bit about Pontius Pilate in our gospel reading today from Luke, chapter 13.  There Jesus speaks about a horrid event that had recently taken place. Apparently Pilate had some Galileans murdered, and then mixed their blood with the blood of the animals they were offering in sacrifice.  Now, as grotesque as that may sound, it was actually rather typical of Pilate’s behavior as procurator.  Josephus, the Jewish historian of the time, tells us that Pilate also had some Samaritans murdered on Mt. Gerazim when they were engaged in a religious service.  On another occasion, he killed a number of Jews who voiced their disapproval when he stole money from the Temple treasury to build an aqueduct in Jerusalem.

Although the gospel writers “soften” their portrayal of him on Good Friday, it’s clear from the historical record that Pontius Pilate was a man consumed with power.  He greatly enjoyed flaunting his authority in the face of others.  He even did it with our Lord during the Passion, when he said to him, “Don’t you know that I have the power to release you and the power to crucify you?”

It’s also clear from Scripture that Pilate was a skeptic.  When Jesus said to him, “For this I was born and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth.  Everyone who belongs to the truth hears my voice,” the procurator immediately responded, “Truth, what is that?” 

Pilate was also a moral weakling.  For lack of a better term, he was a spineless wimp!  He knew Jesus was innocent, but he didn’t have the guts to acquit him and let him go.  And so he ended up becoming the poster-boy for all those men and women throughout history who have said “I am personally opposed, but . . .” In the Gospel of Matthew we read, “Pilate called for water and washed his hands in front of the crowd, declaring, ‘I am innocent of the blood of this just man.  The responsibility is yours.”  Let me now modify that line for you ever so slightly: “Pilate called for water and washed his hands in front of the crowd, declaring, ‘I am personally opposed to the death of Jesus of Nazareth, but . . . he will be crucified anyway.’”

At the beginning of my homily I said that when it comes to secular leaders in our world today, there are far too many Pilates.  They’re in every country—in every level of leadership (it’s not just those at the top!).  These are people who are consumed with power, who deny the existence of objective truth, and who refuse to do anything to combat the moral evils of our time.  Like Pilate they say, “I am personally opposed, but …”  “I am personally opposed to this or that moral evil, but I’m not going to do anything to change things for the better.”

What the world needs today—what the world needs in every country and in every generation—is a lot more “Baudouins”.

What’s a Baudouin?

A Baudouin is not a what, a Baudouin is a “Who.”

King Baudouin was the ruler of Belgium.  He ruled the Belgian people for 42 years—from 1951-1993, except for 36 hours in April of 1990 (more about that in a minute).

I must admit that I had never heard of him, until a parishioner shared an article about him with me a couple of weeks ago.  The article, from the National Catholic Register, focused on the fact that this past December the Vatican opened the beatification process for him.  That means that at some point in the future, Baudouin might become a canonized former king, like St. Louis of France and St. Stephen of Hungary.

From what I’ve read about him recently it’s become clear to me that in King Baudouin’s mind his faith was more important than his kingship was.  Far more important!  His faith influenced everything in his life.  He never said, “I am a Catholic, but …”  His faith influenced the way he treated people; his faith influenced the way he ruled; his faith influenced the things he supported as king and also the things he rejected.

In 1995, two years after his death, Pope John Paul II said, “[King Baudouin] was a great guardian of the rights of the human conscience, ready to defend the divine commandments, and especially the Fifth Commandment: ‘Thou shalt not kill,’ especially with regard to the protection of the life of unborn children.”

That last point is a reference to what happened in 1990.  At that time the Belgian Parliament passed a bill which legalized abortion up to the 12^th week of pregnancy.  It was the duty of the king to sign a bill like that into law.  But King Baudouin refused to do so. He remained true to his beliefs concerning the sanctity of human life.  About his decision not to sign he wrote: “I know by acting in this way I have not chosen an easy path and that I risk not being understood by many of my fellow citizens. To those who may be shocked by my decision, I ask them: Is it right that I am the only Belgian citizen to be forced to act against his conscience in such a crucial area? Is the freedom of conscience sacred for everyone except for the king?”

As a consequence of his refusal to sign, King Baudouin was declared unfit to reign by the government, and he was removed (willingly) from office.  Thus they were able to pass the law without his signature.

But his abdication of the kingship didn’t last very long.  Because of his incredible popularity, Baudouin was reinstated as king just 36 hours later, and in that capacity he faithfully served his people until his death from a massive heart attack in 1993.

I’ll end my homily today by repeating what I said at the beginning: When it comes to secular leaders in the world today, there are far too many Pilates, and far too few Baudouins.  And, sadly, I think that has led some people to become cynical.  Given the immoral and often scandalous behavior that some prominent politicians and civil servants have engaged in during the last several decades, some now believe that it’s impossible (or nearly impossible) for a person to be both a good leader and a good Catholic at the same time. It’s as if holiness and effective leadership are mutually exclusive realities.  But King Baudouin, St. Louis, St. Stephen of Hungary—and others like them—have shown us that living a virtuous life is possible even amidst the trappings of wealth and worldly power.  By the grace of God, it can be done. This led Pope Francis to voice his hope recently that King Baudouin’s powerful “example as a man of faith enlightens those who govern [in the world today].”

Which is definitely an “enlightenment” that people in our country—and in every other nation on earth—should pray for.

The 3 Great Fears of Human Beings, and the 3 Temptations of Jesus in the Desert

 

(First Sunday of Lent (C): This homily was given on March 9, 2025 at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I., by Fr. Raymond Suriani.  Read Luke 4: 1-13.)

[For the audio version of this homily, click here: First Sunday of Lent 2025]

The late Fr. Benedict Groeschel was not only a priest, he was also a psychologist, with a doctorate from Columbia University.  That means he understood the workings of the human mind pretty well. 

In his book, The Virtue Driven Life, Fr. Groeschel made a very interesting statement in this regard.  He said, “Human beings have three great fears—to be no one, to have no one, and to have nothing—and they cause people to be self-centered and ungenerous.”

I read that line as I was in the process of preparing for this homily, and I said to myself, “That’s amazing!  Those are precisely the 3 temptations Jesus faced after his 40-day fast in the desert!”  Fr. Groeschel doesn’t make that connection directly in his book, but it’s true nonetheless.

This means that in dealing with these 3 temptations from the devil, Jesus was actually facing the 3 greatest fears that we face in our lives.

Let’s take them in the order Fr. Groeschel mentions them (which is actually the opposite of the order that Jesus experienced them in this Gospel story).

Human beings, he says, have 3 great fears.  The first is the fear of being no one—that is to say, the fear of being a nobody; the fear of not being recognized and appreciated for who we are.  Satan mistakenly thought he could find this fear inside of Jesus and use it to lead him into sin, and so he took our Lord to the very top of the Temple in Jerusalem.  There he said to him, “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down from here, for it is written: ‘He will command his angels concerning you, to guard you, and with their hands they will support you, lest you dash your foot against a stone.’” 

Satan was saying, “Jesus, I know who you are—I know you’re one of those really important people that God the Father will protect.  But the men and women here in Jerusalem—they don’t know that.  They think you’re just an ordinary man.  So show them who you are; throw yourself down from here!  Just like it says in the 91^st psalm, God the Father will send a whole flock of angels from heaven to catch you—and everybody in the city will see it!  They’ll say, ‘Wow, this guy can fly!  He must be a special person.’  Then they’ll listen to you; then they’ll take your words seriously!”

Jesus was able to resist this temptation, because he had a PERFECT relationship with his heavenly Father.  He knew exactly who he was; he knew he was loved by God the Father with a perfect love—and he was completely secure and at peace in that knowledge.  Consequently, he wasn’t afraid of being a nobody.

But sometimes, we can be!  And it’s important for us to be aware of that, because this kind of fear can easily cause us to compromise our moral principles: “I want to be accepted by my friends—I want them to think I’m cool like they are—and so I’ll drink with them on weekends”; “I want my co-workers to like me, and so I’ll talk and act just like they do.”

The fear of being a nobody.

Andy Warhol used to talk about people wanting their 15 minutes of fame.  There’s a lot of truth in that.  Some people will do almost anything to get noticed these days.  Why do you think there are so many reality shows on TV?   Why do you think so many people with terrible voices audition for American Idol?  They don’t want to be “nobodies”.  They want to be known for something—even if that “something” brings them embarrassment and humiliation! 

The antidote to this kind of fear is a deep, personal relationship with the Lord.  (That’s not pious drivel; that’s reality!)  This is why our relationship with Jesus Christ—nourished by prayer and the sacraments—needs to be our top priority in this life!

Because the more we know and love Jesus—and even more importantly, the more we really know and understand his love for us—the less this fear of being a nobody will control us.

Put it this way—if Jesus Christ is my best friend; if I really know that he loves me just as I am; and if I know he will always be there for me, then I don’t have to be afraid of being a nobody!  Ever!  I’ll know—I’ll always know—that I’m a somebody!  I don’t have to prove anything to anyone.  As long as I’m striving to be faithful to Jesus, I have nothing to worry about.

The second fear according to Fr. Groeschel, is the fear of having no one.  Once again, Satan mistakenly thought he could find this fear within Jesus, and use it to get him to disobey his Father.  So he showed our Lord all the kingdoms of the world, and said to him, “I’ll give you all this power and glory, if you just worship me.”  In other words, “Jesus, you don’t have to worry about your future; you don’t have to be concerned that someday no one will care about you.  Just worship me, and I’ll make you the ruler of all these countries.  Then you’ll be all set!  You’ll have lots of servants—thousands of people at your beck and call at every moment of every day.  You’ll never be alone; you’ll never be neglected!”

Once again, this fear—the fear of having no one—was not in Jesus.  He knew he was never alone; he knew the Father was always with him.  And so he said to Satan, “You shall worship the Lord, your God; him alone shall you adore.”

Jesus didn’t give in to this fear, but we can.  Pretty easily.

Politicians who support immoral laws even though they are “personally opposed” give in to this fear.  They’re afraid that if they support the right laws, they’ll lose the support of those who helped to put them into office.

Priests who are afraid to teach EVERYTHING that the Church teaches in matters of faith and morals also give in to this fear.  They fear their parishioners won’t like them anymore.

Whenever a Catholic fails to speak up for what’s right and true when he knows that he should speak up—be it at work or at school or among his friends—that Catholic gives in to this type of fear.

And we’ve all been there, haven’t we?  I know I have!

The last fear Fr. Groeschel mentions, which ties in with the very first temptation of Jesus in this scene in the desert, is the fear of having nothing (or the fear of not having our needs met).  This is similar to the second fear in some respects, but the second one related more to persons; this one concerns possessions.

Satan said to Jesus, “If you are the Son of God, command this stone to turn to bread.”  His message there was, “Jesus, you’re pretty hungry right now, aren’t you?  You’ve been fasting for 40 days and 40 nights in this awful desert.  Aren’t you worried about your health?  Aren’t you afraid of starving?  You should be!  Well, then, do something about it; satisfy your urge!  Give yourself a good meal!  You deserve it!”

Jesus, of course, knew that his Father would provide for all his needs, so he rejected this temptation immediately and said to Satan, “One does not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.”

The fear of not having enough wasn’t present in Jesus Christ; but sometimes, once again, it can manifest itself in us.  Why, for example, do people steal?  Why do they cheat on their taxes?  Why do they cut corners in their businesses?  Why are they sometimes less charitable than they should be—or could be?

In many cases, it’s simply because they’re afraid!  They’re afraid that they don’t—or that they won’t—have enough!

So there they are—the 3 great fears we face during our time on this earth: the fear of being a nobody; the fear of having no one; the fear of having nothing. 

As we’ve just seen, Jesus was able to overcome every one of these fears, in and through the loving relationship he had with his heavenly Father.

But the good news is that we, too, can overcome them!  We can overcome these 3 fears by finding our strength, our security and our peace IN OUR RELATIONSHIP WITH JESUS!

So let’s resolve today to work very hard at improving our relationship with the Lord during this holy season of Lent—by prayer, by reading Scripture, perhaps by attending Mass and Eucharistic Adoration more frequently, and, of course, by going to Confession.  Let’s resolve to improve our relationship with Jesus in these very practical ways, and get rid of the fears that afflict us.

 

What will the Ashes I Wear Today be a Sign of?

(Ash Wednesday 2025: This homily was given on March 5, 2025 at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I., by Fr. Raymond Suriani.  Read Joel 2: 12-18; Psalm 51; 2 Corinthians 5: 20-6: 2; Matthew 6: 1-18.)

[Gor the audio version of this homily, click here: Ash Wednesday 2025]

A couple of years ago, Bishop Thomas Tobin, who was in charge of our diocese at the time, wrote a column in our diocesan newspaper, The Rhode Island Catholic, in which he spoke about the things we wear, and how what we wear often reflects, as he put it, “our belief or our loyalty”.  What we wear, in other words, is often a sign of something deeper.  He began by commending the Catholic school students who had been kicked out of the Smithsonian Museum a few weeks earlier for wearing hats that said, “Rosary Pro-Life.”  He commended those students for having worn something that was a sign of “their commitment to life.”

The Bishop went on to say, “How often we proudly wear a t-shirt, a sweatshirt or a hat bearing the name and logo of our favorite team, the Pittsburgh Steelers, for example.”  [Incidentally, both Fr. Mahoney and I think that was a very bad example that the Bishop used—but that’s another story!  His point was still well taken.]  The Bishop continued, “Sometimes we wear things that have religious meaning. Christians wear a cross to identify themselves as followers of Christ. Catholics wear medals or pins to share a favorite devotion. When a priest wears a purple vestment for Mass rather than a white vestment, it means something.”

Then he rightly noted that on Ash Wednesday we—and all Catholics--will leave church “wearing” something—something that we were not wearing when we entered the building before the Mass began. We will be wearing ASHES on our foreheads! Which brought him to the important point for our personal reflection this morning. He said that these ashes will be “a very visible sign.  But a sign of what?”

That’s the key issue for each of us to consider as we begin the holy season of Lent today: What will the ashes I wear today actually be a sign of?

• Will they be a sign of the fact that I intend to make my spiritual life—my relationship with Jesus Christ—my immortal soul—my top priority during the next 40 days?
• Will they be a sign of the fact that I intend to pray more, and to read Scripture more often; that I intend to come to Mass faithfully every Sunday—and maybe even during the week?  You all got to Mass this morning.  How about doing that at least one morning a week throughout the Lenten season?
• Will they be a sign of the fact that I’m going to take an honest look at my life during the next 40 days, so that I can identify those things I need to change?  And will they be a sign of the fact that I intend to bring those matters—those faults—those sins—to the sacrament of Reconciliation at some point during the season of Lent, so that they can be forgiven?  Fr. Mahoney has added some extra times for confessions each week, so there’s no excuse for not getting there.
• Will they be a sign of the fact that I intend to seek reconciliation with people I’ve offended in my life (that would be a fantastic Lenten activity!), and will they be a sign that I will seek to grow in charity during this holy season?
• Or will wearing the ashes I receive this year simply be a sign of the fact that I somehow paid my “spiritual dues” on March 5, 2025; that I went through the motions, and did what many Catholics (probably most Catholics) think they’re supposed to do on Ash Wednesday every year?

Those are extremely important questions.  They’re the questions that need to be answered by us, and by everyone else who “wears” ashes on their forehead today.  Of course, they can only be answered adequately when Lent is over, and when we reflect back on what we’ve done—and not done—during this holy season.

May that reflection back help us to see, happily, that the ashes we wore this Ash Wednesday were a positive sign: a sign of the great spiritual growth and personal improvement that we would experience—and which we did experience—during the 40 days of Lent in 2025.