…And it was published by a legit source that a lot of people read and share and stuff.
The priest looked up at me.
“It’s because you’re prideful,” he said, just like that—straightforward and blunt. His demeanor was friendly, though, and loving, as we sat there in the confessional.
It wasn’t really a traditional confessional; it was a makeshift confessional, created because the church I was visiting was having a special event for the Year of Mercy. Two folding chairs were squished into a tight space that was some kind of archaic side-chapel. There was recorded chant being pumped through the speaker system.
That weekend found me volunteering with my brother at a community youth theater production, and the church’s 24 Hours for the Lord confession event worked with the theater’s very late-night scheduling. So, I showed up to the church close to midnight, crossed myself, and started listing my faults and failures. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned …”
The sin I had just confessed, in the middle of my list, was arriving late for Mass on Sundays.
That’s when the priest told me I was prideful….