A Penitent Finds the Courage for Confession
Two priests were hawking God on the streets of a Big City. With printed signs and jovial greetings they offered Sacramental Confession or blessings to the hustling harried looking passersby. They were greeted generally with empty stares, patronizing half-smiles or the “invisibility” treatment which strides by in a studied manner so as not to “see” the homeless, the demented, or zealous priests.
The overwhelming rejection of their priestly offers somehow seemed not to matter. Prior to their taking to the streets, they had prayed together and had antecedently offered their time, effort, and good will to the Holy Spirit, begging Him to accept their efforts for God’s glory, for the salvation of others and for their own personal holiness. Hence, they felt they had pastoral success before they began. They felt they were following the direction of the Master Jesus Who told them to go out “two by two”. They remembered the Master’s ire at those who live by the “outside” of the cup. Don’t go by externals. These two priests wanted to labor for him with directional interiority, not for human rah-rahs.
The measurable pastoral factor was slim. Apart from a few devout souls seeking a blessing for their rosaries or a request for a prayer for Aunt Millie in the hospital, there was little “action”. Some people stopped to read the signs and walked away apparently unaware of the vast spiritual world all around them.
Two friendly policemen came by, shook hands and wished them well. A patient from the nearby hospital stopped to speak, vacillating from uproarious laughter to deep sadness to how beautiful he finds religion…..
It was cold. The wind was blowing strongly. They had spent an hour and thirty minutes giving their all. With all their good will, it would, they said, be great to have a cup of coffee.
But just then, something happened, the like of which one reads in books of devotion or pastoral care.
“Some person” had been eyeing the two priests for some time, moved closer, with a seeming uninterested attitude. Yet “this person” was obviously eavesdropping on one of the priest’s “Pitch for God.” “This person” would look away, then rivet attention on the priest, while constantly shifting position, leaning against a bikepost. Undecided what to do? Nervous? Frightened? People came and went. “This person” stayed. Not a word was said. Not a flicker of movement towards the priests.
Suddenly without any warning, “this person” quickly advanced to the priest awaiting penitents and began a sacramental confession. A Big Fish for God. An unbelievable reconciliation. On the sidewalk!!! The Curbside Confession.
The priests had been about to leave for coffee. In human estimation, they had had moderate “success.” Yet one of them had said….”A few minutes more?”….There might be a straying sheep which lags behind the others. Who knows when the great Grace of God smashes through fear and disillusionment and anger. Who knows where? Even on the sidewalk in the midst of secularism and hedonism, noise and dirt. Who knows the Mystery of God?
Moral: Never give up. There is always hope. Maybe just around a corner!