GOING TO CONFESSION
TO FATHER
FRANCIS XAVIER SEELOS
What would it be like to go to
confession to a Saint? Would I be nervous, anxious, scared? Would a Saint see
right through me – knowing more about me than I know about myself – seeing my
embarrassing behaviors and hidden prejudices? But would I also come out confession
whispering, “Phew!” – having received a sacrament – having received a breath of
fresh air – having received the gift and
grace that God forgives me? And in time for some sins, can I forgive myself?
What would it be like if there
was a holy priest here at St. Mary’s, Annapolis,
who had a great reputation as a saint – the “go to” priest for confession? What
would people walking or driving down Duke of Gloucester Street think, if they saw a single
line of people all the way up from the bridge over Spa Creek heading into
church?
Such a priest was stationed here
at St. Mary’s way back in the 1860’s. His name was Father Francis Xavier
Seelos. In the literature about Father Seelos, writers keep saying lots of
people wanted to go to confession to him – here at St. Mary’s, as well as in
Pittsburgh, in Baltimore, Cumberland, Detroit, New Orleans, and in the many
places where he preached parish missions.
As to long confession lines at
St. Mary’s to get to Father Seelos, I was disappointed because I didn’t find
any writer saying exactly that - especially
because I did read about long
lines of people wanting to go to confession to him in several other places where
he was stationed.
Listen to what the Annals of the Baltimore Province of the
Redemptorists from 1867 say about Father Seelos when he was stationed in New Orleans, his last
assignment. “Here, as in all other places where he had been, he soon became a
universal favorite. Germans, English, French, Creoles, negroes, mulattoes, all
admired and loved F. Seelos. Though he was by no means a great proficient in
English, and still less so in French, there were hundreds of highly educated
Creoles and Americans who came miles, and stood for hours before his
confessional, in order to have the happiness to make a general confession to
him. And we all remarked that whoever went to him once, would never afterwards
go to any other director. It was a common belief among the people that he could
read the secrets of the heart.” (p. 317, Vol. 5)
It was at St. Philomena’s Parish
in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania (1845-1854), that Seelos’
reputation as a great confessor began. It was his second assignment as a
Redemptorist. Perhaps it was because he was stationed with a future Saint –
John Neumann – whom he went to confession to – that he knew what it was like to
go to confession to a saint.
Francis Xavier Seelos was a
creative preacher, but it seems to me, he loved being in the wooden confession
box more than the wooden pulpit. But he was not wooden. He was warm and
compassionate. Being a Redemptorist, he knew our motto and vision statement, “Copiosa Apud Eum Redemptio.” With
Christ there is copious or fullness of redemption.
In Father Carl Hoegerl and Alicia
Von Stamwitz’s book, A Life of Blessed
Francis Xavier Seelos, they mention a sermon by Father Seelos where he
says: “I here publicly give you permission to bring it up to me in the
confessional and to call me a liar, if you come to confession and don’t find me
receiving you in all mildness.” In other words, you might be filled with fear
and trembling, but I promise peace (p. 49) – and if you don’t experience that, yell,
“Liar!”
It was great to read that,
because being good confessors is supposed to be a key trait of Redemptorists.
Our founder, St. Alphonsus de Liguori, not only has the honorary titles of
Doctor of Prayer and Patron Saint of Moral Theologians, he also has the title
of Patron Saint of Confessors. He wrote a whole book for priests on how to be a
good confessor. He wanted Redemptorists to bring Christ’s redeeming love to
folks – and one key way was to experience God’s forgiveness in the sacrament of
reconciliation – still usually called “confession”.
So when people went to confession
to Father Francis Xavier Seelos here at St. Mary’s, they were going to
confession to a wonderful and warm saint.
Whenever I sit in a confessional
at St. Mary’s, I think about all the Redemptorist priests who heard confessions
here in Annapolis
for the past 150 years. I say to myself: Blessed Francis Xavier Seelos heard
confessions in this very church – well not in these boxes – but in this church.
I read in Robert L. Worden’s book which just came out, “St. Mary’s Church in Annapolis,
Maryland: A Sesquicentennial
History, 1853-2003” (pp. 125-126) that the present confessionals were constructed
in 1914. Henry Robert, our sacristan, took me outside the church and pointed
out how the outside walls of our church on the prayer garden side or the street
side protrude where the present confessionals are.
Sometimes when I see people lined
up to go to confession, I reflect about how going to confession has helped me
all through my life. I begin by thinking about going to confession as a kid in the
Redemptorist Parish of OLPH, Brooklyn. I’d tell the usual kid stuff – “distobeying”,
lying, stealing, fighting with my brother – and at times probably made up some
stuff to make it sound good. In time, I didn’t have to make things up –
graduating to sins of pride and laziness, etc.
I also remember what happened one
Saturday afternoon when I was a kid. It was back in the 1950’s, when Catholics
went to confession a lot more than today. Every Saturday eight confession boxes
were in operation in our big parish. That afternoon every priest had a line
except for one confession box. The light was on – meaning there was a priest in
there - but nobody was going to him. I didn’t know why, but I guess I had a
kid’s intuition: don’t go near the lion’s den. Then a man came into church –
stood in the back for a moment – measured the lines – and perhaps because he
was in a rush – headed for the confession box that had no line. Wrong move.
Suddenly, everyone in the church smiled as well as being shocked, because they
heard quite clearly the priest in the “forbidden box” yelling at the guy who
thought he was making a great move.
“Woo! Uh oh! O no!” And I must
have said to myself, “If I ever become a priest, I’ll never do that.” It was
the same thing I said about a grouch on our block. We’d be playing stickball on
the street. There weren’t that many cars back then – hey it was just after
World War II and New York City
had great public transportation – so our street was not that busy. The black
macadam street was our “Field of Dreams”. Sewer covers in the center of the
street were home plate and second base; two trees were first and third base. It
was great, until a ball went into the grouch’s front yard. That was a “No! No!”
The rule was: don’t get caught by the grouch trying to retrieve a Spalding –
that wonderful red bouncy ball every kid loved in the 1950’s. And when the
grouch grouched, I’m sure everyone said, “When I grow up, I won’t yell at kids who
hit a ball into my yard.”
Was Francis Xavier Seelos yelled
at – or did he hear the stories every priest hears about someone leaving the
Catholic Church because some priest yelled at them? I don’t know, but I do
know, he loved hearing confessions.
In fact, when he was
semi-conscious, dying of yellow fever in New
Orleans at the age of 48, he thought the Redemptorist
priests and brothers around his bed were there to go to confession, and he
would start with the confession prayers.
Confession is good for the soul. The
sacrament or reconciliation is a great gift. It’s a chance to name our sins, to
confess them, and hopefully in time to get beyond them.
Fritz Kunkel once described the
purpose of confession as: “To bring to light the unknown, the unconscious
darkness, and the underdeveloped creativity of our deeper layers.” Certainly
people who receive the sacrament of reconciliation down through the years have
had this experience. It begins with the call and need for confession – the call
to sit and pray in a church for a while, and then to stand on line with other
sinners – to articulate one’s sins – the roots of which are deep – and often
need a lifetime of weeding from the garden of our soul.
Jesus was off on helping people
discover forgiveness and healing. And he tells us to forgive seventy times
seven times. He also said, “Let him without sin cast the first stone.”
Hopefully, all of us have had
wonderful experiences in the sacrament of confession – experiencing Christ and
his forgiveness seventy times seven times – and if any of us have experienced
some rock throwing from a priest, that we can forgive him and get beyond that
horror.
Everyone knows the priests here
at St. Mary’s are not saints. Hopefully everyone who goes to confession here
will taste a bit of the joy and “Good News” people who went confession to
Father Francis Xavier Seelos experienced. He’s has not been canonized a Saint
yet, but he is half-way there, being beatified on April 9, 2000. Hopefully the priests here, keep
moving forward one step at a time – as a result of the example the long line of
great Redemptorists who have gone before them.
[From Moorings, Father Andy Costello]
