Sunday, August 3, 2008


Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It's been three months since my last confession, and here are my sins ...

Since I've not been in communion, as I have fallen out of Grace due to mortal, that is deadly, sin, my cara spoza felt it was high time something was done about this. So, around 4 pm last Saturday, as I was working in the office, a shy knock on my door interrupted me.

EM, timidly: Papa, confession will be over soon...
Me: Alright, already! I groused.

Off I stomped to confession. God, I hate relinquishing my evils, because the first thing I must do is to say: "I was wrong; You weren't. I'm not God; You are. My plan for me wasn't as good as Your plan for me was."

I really hate that.

Every time I go to confession, I deal with this. And then, every time I leave the confession box ["Good confession" encouraged Father], I am amazed at how simple it was to return to a state of Grace. "That was easy," I say wonderingly.

Reconciliation is a full-on Miracle, but that's not what I'm address here. Fr. Kleinmann, the priest who married us, had to cover a last minute cancellation, so we would not be going to the 5 pm Mass with him, and then supper afterwards, but instead would go to the 10:30 am Sunday morning Mass (as we usually do).

We showed up on time. But that, miracle in and of itself (I am pater familias and am responsible for getting to the Church on time, but I also have the Auclair ὕβρις), is not the Miracle of this entry.

The Miracle was that after three months of being out of communion (hm, I wonder, are people aware that when they are in a state of mortal sin, that the are excommunicated? It's called mortal sin for a reason, ya know ... maybe I should remember that next time I've fallen from Grace so that I go to confession before crossing the street), "out of the blue", as it were, our family was selected to bring the offering. I do not recall us ever being so selected before.

Okay. Who says there isn't Divine Providence? God Himself descended from His throne and marched me (kicking and screaming) into the confessional, so that I could receive Him in the Eucharist that I, personally, had just offered in front of then entire church community. I don't have any other explanation. Because I as sure as hell (and I was working hard to assure myself of that destination) wasn't going to confession because it felt good.

Yes, right. That was all coincidence. Go ahead, I'm waiting for you to tell me that.

Let me give you the run down again: I impossibly go to confession yesterday, Fr. Kleinmann has a last minute coverage, changing our Mass attendance plans, to arrive at Mass on time, so that the Usher selects us for the offertory, so that I can receive communion.

Coincidence? Absolutely! All those events coincided with the Hand of Providence.

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