The Confessional - Lisa Davies

– Bless me Father for I have sinned. It's been three months since my last confession.
– And what were your transgressions, my son?
– Well, Father, I took home some metal from the factory.
– Go on.
– And I took the Lord's name in vain.
– I see.
– And there were times I drank more than I should have, Father.
– You are required to be worthy of the trust that is placed in you by your employer. Do not take the Lord's name in vain again. And remember that your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit. Do not abuse it with harmful substances.
– Yes Father.
– Do you have anything to add?
– No Father.
– Oh – well – there is just one other small thing. I mean it's not really, but -
– Yes?
– I might have been a bit rough. Around the house, you know.
– Rough? At home? Please explain this further.
– There was some shouting, some things got broken, and I - well, Father, I was provoked really!
– Provoked?
– Yes, she -
– Who?
– Well the wife, Father, she - just slapped her a bit really - I mean -
– Did you strike your wife, my son?
– I didn't mean for it to go on.
– Several times?
– I didn't mean to, Father, but she didn't – she wouldn't – I wanted to - she's my wife Father!
– Did you force yourself on her?
– She's my wife, Father! She should -
– Did you force yourself on her?
– It – it may have seemed that way.
– My son, the love between husband and wife is holy. Do not abuse what God has given you.
– Yes Father.
– Don't do this again to your wife. Don't strike her. Do not take what you think is your due by force. What you have done is abhorrent in the eyes of the Lord.
– I - I - Yes Father.
– Pray for God almighty to control your fists and your earthly desires. You must come together in love and never in violence. Do you wish to say anything else?
– No Father.
– Let us conclude then.
– I am sorry for these and all of my sins.
– For penance you will say two Our Fathers and six Hail Marys. And think long and hard on what you have done.
– O my God I am heartily sorry for having offended thee and I detest all my sins because of thy just punishment but most of all because they offend thee my God who art all-good and deserving of all my love and I firmly resolve with the help of thy grace to sin no more and to avoid the near occasion of sin in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit Amen.
– I absolve you in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. Go in peace and do not sin again.

* * *

– Father Michael?
– Father Daniel?
– Do you have a minute?
– Of course, of course, tell me how you are settling in – are the parishioners looking after you?
– It's not getting any easier, the confessional. I heard something today that burdens me greatly. It is hard to bear alone.
– You must. But you are not alone. God forgives the sinner. We are just God's hands and voice here on earth.
– Yes Father, but -
– You cannot speak of it.
– It was Frank McLeary who came in and -
– You know you cannot speak of it, my son!
– But Father! -
– It belongs to God now.
– I feel I simply cannot keep silent, Father.
– You can, and you must, and you will.You are bound to silence. It is part of your vocation. What you are called to do.
– Father Michael -
– I will pray for your burden to be lifted from you. I wish to hear no more about it.
– Yes, Father.

* * *

God, give me strength. Give me your strength and your endurance. What I heard today sickens me to my stomach. Please protect Eileen McLeary from the monster she has the misfortune to be married to. Help him to see how wrong his actions are. Help him to change. Please help her to - I don't know. Please give her strength to leave him? Resist him? Oh God heal the pain in my heart.

* * *

10 St Mary's Drive
21st November

Dear Father Daniel

I have thought on what you told me today when we met, and I will say just this. Something I have learnt through the last 30 years with this parish, is the need to accept things as they are, and stay apart, detached even, from the parishioners and their lives. You will not change them. You mentioned a name in our conversation. All I will say is that there are men in this parish with a particular view on married life, and they will never change. Eileen McLeary has been taking it for close on ten years. She'll never change either. It's all they know.

Save yourself the pain and accept it now. And hear their rote meaningless confessions every few months. I once thought I could make a difference, change people. Call me a coward if you will. Call me old and tired perhaps. I intend to spend my retirement as alone as I can. I wish you well, now, as you take over the reins of this parish single-handedly. I will entertain no further discussion on this or any related matter.

Yours in Christ
Michael

* * *

– Good Morning, Mrs McLeary, how are you today?
– Good morning, Father Daniel. I'm well thank you. I see you're doing a little shopping?
– How's the family? How's your daughter – Emma is it? How are things at home? How is - Frank?
– Lovely, lovely, Father, thank you. I must get on though, got to get the tea bought and made. He doesn't like it not to be ready first thing he's through the door of an evening.
– Mrs McLeary, you do know, if there's ever anything that's bothering you -
– Whatever do you mean, Father?
– Trouble with anyone, trouble at home -
– What a funny thing to say, Father! What possible trouble could there be?
– Please remember my door is always open.
– Goodness, look at the time, I must be off, a lot to do still. Enjoy your evening, Father!

* * *

– Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It's been three months since my last confession.
– Yes, my little one, and what are your sins?
– I was bad, Father.
– You are not bad, my child, and God loves you even when you sin. Tell me what happened.
– I don't quite know, Father, but I made him very cross.
– Made who cross?
– Me Dad.
– Your father? What did he say?
– He didn't say anything, but I know he was very cross.
– How, child?
– Because of what he did, Father.
– What did he do?
– I – he – it's too awful to say. Oh Father, it hurt so much, and I screamed so loud, and Daddy had to cover my mouth - Why am I so bad, Father? Why did I make him so cross?
– My child, listen carefully to me. You are God's own daughter. You have done no wrong here. Tell me, has this happened before?
– Never, Father.
– Can you tell me what happened?
– I was supposed to be at school, but we got let out early as our teacher was poorly. I came in the back door. They didn't see me. There was shouting – mum and dad were shouting. Usually he shouts but she – usually she's just quiet. This time – she was – different.
– Different?
– Sort of – stronger.
– Yes?
– And then there was more shouting, and some pushing, and then - she left, Father! She just walked out the door. He just stood there and watched her go.
– She went?
– She came back later, of course, but yes, she walked out right then. She didn't mean to leave
me. She didn't! She didn't know I was there. She wouldn't have -
– Alright, child. I know.
– And then Dad saw me, and he got so awfully angry, and then he – he -. I don't want to talk about it any more, Father.
– Listen carefully! It's very important that you tell someone else about this. Tell your mother, tell someone!
– I have told you though Father!
– My child, it pains me greatly, but what is said in the confessional can go no further than the confessional. I cannot repeat this beyond that curtain. You must speak of this to someone else. You MUST tell your mother. Go now, hurry.
– I have not said my act of contrition Father!
– Contrition! For what – Just go now, child, go home to your mother.

* * *

Why God? Why? Why Emma? Why do you burden me so greatly?

Is this your answer to my prayer? Is this your answer to my prayer for Eileen McLeary to have strength – to give her strength and courage against him? Is this your answer to my prayer? That her daughter take her place? This seems too cruel to bear. Dare I pray to you again? Dare I trust you? When I think on what he has done.

God take from me the images! I see him taking her, hitting her, covering her mouth, drowing her screams. Pulling aside her little girl's clothing. How do I stop myself from going straight there right now and beating Frank McLeary senseless against the wall. I wish him dead. Forgive me my violent thoughts. I cannot bear this.

Help me, my God! Help us all.

* * *

– Bless me Father, for I have sinned. It's been a month since my last confession.
– What are your sins, my daughter?
– I have done something terrible, Father.
– Tell me.
– I couldn't help myself.
– Yes?
– It was all I could do. What mother wouldn't have done it? Close on a decade of beatings, and worse. And now my daughter. Wouldn't you have done the same, Father? Of course, you don't know what it's like. How could you. You've never loved a child. Emma. She's my life. I'd protect her with my life without a thought. It doesn't matter what happens to me. It's too late for me. But Emma! And I'm afraid what will happen to her after what I've done. What else could I do though?
– My daughter, God cannot forgive your sins unless you confess them. You need to confess what you have done.
– Yes Father, forgive me. Ha! Forgive me! That's what we're here for, after all. I killed my husband, Father. I had to.
– You killed him?
– Yes Father. At least, he's not dead yet. But he will be. Oh, he will be.
– Tell me what you have done.
– There's the steep cliff road down from the metal works to our neighbourhood. Terribly steep and dangerous, actually. The sort of road you wouldn't want to have a – mechanical failure on. Could be distrastrous.
– Go on.
– He's on the night shift tonight. He'll be driving down it early tomorrow morning. Five am. Be dark still, really. The road should be almost deserted, that time. He'll be tired, and grimy from working the floor. He'll be planning a bath, to sleep all morning, and then hit the pubs by lunchtime. Only he won't be at the pubs at lunchtime. Or in the bath, or the bed – my bed – tomorrow morning. Or any time again ever.
– You need to tell me what you have done.
– I've paid a man.
– Paid a man?
– To fix things. Fix the brakes on his car. It'll be parked outside the factory all night. I've
been sure to describe it very carefully. Father? Aren't you going to say something?
– My daughter, great wrong has been done here in God's eyes. The matter must be put right. The wrong that has been done must be stopped. Before it is too late. Listen carefully to my words. The wrong that has been done - must - be - stopped.
– Father?
– You have heard me. Let us conclude now.
– Father?
– Please, proceed.
– O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended thee, and I detest all my sins because of
thy just punishment, but most of all because they offend thee, my God, who art all-good and deserving of all my love. I firmly resolve, with the help of thy grace, to sin no more and to avoid the near occasion of sin. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
– I absolve you in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. Go in peace and do not sin again.

* * *

Truer words I never spoke. The wrong that has been done must be stopped. Will be stopped.

And God knows I cannot speak of what has been said here in this confession. I am bound to silence, after all. It is part of my vocation. What God has called me to do. I am God's hands and God's voice.

God forgives his children for their sins. God forgives us all. In the end his children are freed in him. We are all freed in him.