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At the outset of this consideration of proper and improper confession, let us briefly address the fairly common practice of confessing during the Divine Liturgy, something especially noticeable in our churches during the fasting periods, when many people come who have not attended services during the rest of the year. This phenomenon is an extreme concession and, essentially speaking, an irregularity, even a contradiction of the sacramental order of the Church. This kind of confession should be avoided at all costs and resorted to only in cases of utmost necessity, with the awareness that it is a great act of condescension of the Church towards those who are not sufficiently instructed in the meaning and process of confession, and who may be coming to it for the first time. Particularly troubling here is the phenomenon of Christians who, for years, regularly come to the Divine Liturgy and from time to time make their confession during the service itself (which means that under ordinary circumstances they are using an approach proper only to an emergency), something that is both a mistake and a sin, and that causes enormous harm to Church life. Here matters must be stated quite openly—if a liturgical Christian persists in the practice of confessing during the Divine Liturgy, then this is not only a form of spiritual schizophrenia, but also the sin of irreverence toward holy things and a deliberate disruption of the holiest service in the world. Furthermore, the priest who hears confessions during the service is also drawn into this schizophrenic state, because by the nature of things he ought at that time to be concelebrating with his brethren. Besides, let us also ask something entirely practical: what can a person possibly confess in the two or three minutes that these “liturgical confessions” last on average (and they cannot last any longer, since during the fasts dozens of people are usually waiting before the confessional stand)? Therefore, even if it exists in practice for certain reasons, confession during the Divine Liturgy is a kind of extraordinary circumstance that should be reduced to a minimum, by liturgically enlightening the faithful, and eventually abolished altogether.1
A second aspect of the improper approach to confession is a serious problem frequently present in our time, namely the superficial confession of sins. A considerable number of people who confess in this way begin their conversation with the priest with words of self-justification that sound approximately like this: “I haven’t killed anyone, I haven’t stolen anything, I haven’t committed adultery…,” after which there usually follows something like: “I have nothing particular to confess; I only have everyday sins.” Let us ask ourselves: are things really as they are presented in these familiar “formulas”?
To begin with, let us confirm that in confession one should certainly first mention mortal and obvious sins—if such sins exist—with the knowledge that there is no sin God will not forgive if a person has repented, confessed, and come to hate that sin. How many former murderers, robbers, fornicators, and libertines, after deep repentance, have undergone a thorough transformation and become people of holy life! Indeed, the first man to enter Paradise was the repentant thief (cf. Luke 23:42–43). If, however, a person has no such grave sins upon his soul, then there is no need to underline the fact that he does not have them—in confession one states what one does have, not what one does not have to confess. Yet when it comes to the well-known formula, “I haven’t killed, I haven’t stolen, I haven’t committed adultery,” the vast majority of those who utter it do not at all reflect deeply on what they are saying, because closer examination often reveals a very different reality.
Let us begin with the sin of murder, which is one of the gravest sins—so grave that an average priest, over the course of his life, has heard it confessed only a few times (not counting, of course, prison chaplains, who hear it regularly). Is not deliberate and intentional abortion also murder? How many millions of unborn babies in Serbia have been killed since the end of the Second World War until the present day, under the influence of the godless ideology that was violently imposed upon these lands? Moreover, the sin of killing an unborn child is not only the sin of the woman, but also of the husband who consents to it. How many husbands in Serbia today are even aware of that?
A similar conclusion may be reached with regard to theft, which, after murder, is often cited as one of those sins whose non-commission supposedly “absolves” a person from making a thorough confession. But is there any one of us who has never cheated on an exam at school or university? Is cheating not a theft of another’s knowledge and a dishonest means of obtaining grades? And what shall we say about the widespread cases of systemic corruption and controversial business “arrangements” in which contracts are secured by bribing officials? Is that not a dishonorable way of acquiring income? Or how should one comment on the especially destructive practice of the habitual embezzlement of the state (which in recent decades has assumed an endemic character in the Balkans), whether it be the “borrowing” of minor production materials from factories by workers or the “arranging” of major sales contracts by those in managerial structures? St. Bishop Nikolaj, in his famous homily Do Not Steal from the State, for It Was Dearly Paid For (which ought to be introduced into Serbian secondary schools as compulsory reading, and at the same time printed in a million copies and distributed throughout Serbia), eloquently explains that stealing from the state is a far graver sin than stealing from an individual. The reason is simple: when a man steals from the state, he sins not against one person, but against millions; and what is most grievous, among them he also sins against the blood of the martyrs with which the soil of the state has been soaked, and against the tears of mothers, widows, and orphans of those who perished in defense of the faith and the homeland (Serbia is in this case a particularly striking example of a state that was dearly paid for). Does anyone in a society in which the mentality has long prevailed that “state property belongs to no one,” and that everyone should “grab” from the state as much as he can, even reflect on such matters during confession?
The same applies to the sin of adultery, whose non-commission, alongside the previous two sins, is likewise usually presented as a kind of “absolution” before the priest, who is evidently not perceived as a physician, but as a criminal investigator. To be sure, a priest will from time to time hear the confession of actual adultery; yet far more often he will hear that it has not been committed (and this will be emphasized at the very beginning of the confession, so that it is clearly established). What is usually forgotten, however, is that adultery is not only a matter of an outward act, but also of what takes place in the heart—the Lord Jesus Christ clearly warns us that everyone who harbors in his heart the desire to enter into an intimate relationship with someone who does not belong to him according to the law of God is already guilty of adultery (cf. Matt. 5:28). Here the logic of this world is entirely different, for before an earthly court someone who has never in deed betrayed his spouse, but who daily and consciously fantasizes about other persons and entertains lustful thoughts towards them, would be declared innocent—yet before the Judgment of God such a spouse is unfaithful, because he commits adultery in his heart, which is the spiritual center of the human being.
Equally problematic is the second of the aforementioned “formulas,” of the type: “I have nothing in particular to confess; I only have everyday sins.” What is forgotten here is that even these “everyday sins” can be dangerous if they accumulate to such a degree that at some point they become a person’s second nature. A man, for example, tells small lies every day, make up stories, speaks half-truths, and in the end becomes a liar and a deceiver, so that this becomes a trait of his very character—or rather, lack of character. Another quarrels every day, argues, raises his voice, and at some point becomes so difficult for those around him that it is very hard to live with him, and everyone avoids him by a wide margin because he constantly causes emotional pain to others. And so on and so forth, with each of those seemingly “small” sins that are somehow taken for granted. In this sense, it makes no difference whether a man carries in his bag a single stone weighing one hundred kilograms (that is, some grave sin upon his soul), or a thousand pebbles weighing one hundred grams each (that is, a thousand accumulated “small” sins that have piled up): on his back he will be carrying the same weight.
When a fish is pulled ashore, it makes no difference whether it was caught in a great net or drawn out on a small hook that caught its fin—once it has been caught, the method by which it was pulled out of the water loses its importance. Therefore, it is important that we approach confession in such a way that we confess not only the great “nets” in which we have been ensnared, but also the little “hooks” on which we are so often caught, though we frequently pay them no attention. This means that there are no “customary” sins to which we ought to grow accustomed—every sin is filth that must be washed from the soul, and none should be neglected as a danger, however insignificant it may seem to us.
Particularly problematic is another sentence that has likewise become common (alongside the previous two), namely: “I only need the prayer of absolution in order to receive Communion,” together with its many variations, which priests also regularly have occasion to hear. Let us begin with the absurd notion that it is possible to read the prayer of absolution without the confession of specific sins. But from what, precisely, is a person to be absolved if he is bound by nothing? In any case, even a brief initial examination of conscience will show that we always have at least something to confess, since we sin in word, deed, and thought, consciously and unconsciously. If we leave aside unconscious sins and focus only on conscious ones (those of which we are aware and for which we recognize our responsibility), let us ask ourselves how many times we have sinned with our tongue alone. Who among us has never lied or spoken a half-truth at some point in life? Who has never gossiped or judged another? Who has never uttered an obscene word or cursed? Who has never quarreled or raised his voice against someone? Who has never insulted another or wounded him by a word? Is there anyone who has never engaged in idle chatter? Is there anyone who has never mocked or said something amusing yet inappropriate? Is there anyone who has not reacted improperly in traffic? Here, “at first glance,” are so many obvious sins from which almost none of us is free. For that reason, the idea of reading the prayer of absolution without naming the sins from which one seeks absolution should be freely dismissed as a harmful absurdity.
The fundamental problem with a superficial and improper approach to confession is that it keeps a person in the false conviction that he has healed his soul, whereas in reality he has only placed a filter over a festering wound and created an even greater problem, because the wound will only continue to fester. It must therefore be emphasized that proper confession presupposes the sincere, concrete, and personal confession of sins. First of all, it must be sincere, accompanied by a feeling of repentance. Confessions reduced to the mere reading of various lists without any sense of sorrow for the sins committed are certainly not such. This does not mean that one should never write one’s sins down on paper—on the contrary, this may sometimes be helpful (especially if a person has not confessed for a long time, so that such a list serves as a kind of reminder)—but confession cannot be reduced to the mere recitation of what has been written.
Second, confession must be concrete, which means neither overly general nor excessively detailed. For example, when a person says in confession only that he quarrels, that is extremely general and does not mean very much. It remains unclear with whom he quarrels, whether he himself initiates the quarrel or merely reacts, how often he falls into quarrels, whether he reconciles afterwards, and so forth. But when a person, for instance, confesses that he has a quarrelsome disposition, that he often finds himself quarreling with family members, colleagues at work, and close friends, and briefly explains the typical situations, then that is already very concrete and very well confessed, and it gives the priest room to determine an appropriate therapy proportionate to the depth of the wound, after discerning whether there is also resentment, a desire for revenge, and the like. There is, however, another extreme as well: when a person begins to recount in detail every individual situation, to deliver the entire “script,” and to quote in full everything that was said. Listening to such accounts completely consumes the priest’s attention and energy, so that the trees (the multitude of words) soon obscure the forest (the totality of the sin), and the time allotted for confession is quickly exhausted, leaving much else unconfessed.
One must be especially careful to avoid both the extreme of vagueness on the one hand and the extreme of excessive detail on the other, particularly when speaking of sins of impurity. It is not enough to confess the sin of fornication in a general manner, because a great many things may be included under that term: from a lack of continence within a lawful marriage on certain days, or the sin of self-abuse, to incomparably graver transgressions, such as entering into extramarital sexual relationships or unnatural fornication (which is publicly promoted today). Not everything can be subsumed under the single term “fornication,” nor is the gravity of every form of fornication the same; one must therefore be concrete in naming it. People usually struggle with shame when it comes to the precise naming of this sin, and for that reason it is important that they bear in mind that every true priest (especially a spiritual father) deeply respects those who sincerely and directly confess their sins, because this bears witness to the sincerity and depth of their faith. Let us repeat once more: the priest never has a problem with repentant sinners, but with proud “righteous men.” On the other hand, entering into details during confession must likewise be avoided when sins of impurity are concerned, because this rekindles the imagination of the one confessing and introduces unnecessary descriptions of a sin that ought to be loathed, while for the priest hearing the confession such content is unnecessary—he is not there to listen to the particulars of impure acts, but to heal a person of the passion of impurity.
Finally, it is very important to stress that confession must be personal, which means that a person comes to confess his own sins, not those of others. This ought, one would think, to be self-evident, although in practice it is quite common for people first to “confess” the sins of their neighbors, thereby often committing during confession a grave sin—judgment of others—without even being aware of it. Here too the same rule applies as when entering a doctor’s office: we come to speak about our own medical condition and symptoms, and about the health of others only if the doctor asks us about it.
Lastly, in confessing one should adhere to the strategy of naming first the gravest and most serious sins that afflict one. It would indeed be inappropriate, for example, first to confess idle talk, and only afterwards the psychophysical abuse of another person. It could even be said that if some particularly serious and grave sin is present, then precisely because of the depth of the wound, a separate confession ought to be arranged for that sin alone, so that full attention may be devoted to addressing the problem in question.
In the next article, we shall turn our attention to the classification of sins, their interrelation and sub-variants, as well as the difference between outward, visible sins and inward sins, which are more difficult to discern, thereby completing the themes within this brief and practical guide to confession.
To be continued…
