That Time I Confessed My Sins in Knock, Ireland

Today, a young man from Ireland sent a kind little word about a post in my Instagram stories.  It was a quote from John Paul II:

Shout out, David, if you’re reading this!

I have to tell you, this young man’s honest words about the struggles he has had with his faith, after all the scandals in Ireland is hard to bear.

And yet, after our own “summer of scandal”, I feel like I understand a little bit about how he is feeling.

So many people disillusioned with the Church — and who could blame them?

We had an amazing experience in Ireland, but I’d be naive to think that our experience is typical.

The truth is, there has been a great falling away from the faith in Ireland.  The truth is, it has much to do with the decades of coverup and scandal.

During the recent vote to save the 8th amendment  — which treated the lives of the mother and baby on an equal plane, except when a mother’s life was at risk — the Church leadership remained almost completely silent.

Maybe they know that the scandals have almost completely destroyed their credibility — or maybe they are cowards.

And yet, we met amazing men and women living out their faith in Ireland in beautiful ways.  We met beautiful priests who were strong in their convictions.

I wonder why we were blessed to see the light in Ireland — when sadly I know many Irish churches nowadays resemble mausoleums more than the living, breathing Body of Christ.

I weep for the land of Saints and Scholars — the land that once was filled with light and love and sent its missionaries to all corners of the earth.

I weep for those children, some long since adults, who were hurt so deeply by priests and nuns in the Church.  We should all be weeping for them.

We need to acknowledge that evil was allowed to ravage the Church in Ireland.

And yet — and yet, I see a glimmer of light that is building and gaining strength, almost imperceptible to the human eye.

There is a story about St. Patrick, in which he saw a vision of Ireland before his death.

It showed the entire Island being filled with Light of Christ because of the efforts of St. Patrick and others who followed — but then, slowly the lights began to flicker out.

The faith began to be lost — until there were only small pockets of faith left on the Island.

St. Patrick could hardly bear the anguish of seeing all the light of Christ extinguished in such a dramatic way.

He would have died with the shock of it all, if it wasn’t for an angel telling him to not lose heart, because from those small pockets of light the entire Island would once again be lit on fire.

Perhaps it’s just folklore, but there is something inside of me that believes it fits completely with the poetry and power of God.

I firmly believe that Jesus is forming new saints of a new generation in Ireland.

I know that He is pouring his grace out on Ireland, and to those who say “yes” He can and will work miracles again.

I know that He wants to do that in our neck of the woods, too.

If St. Patrick proves anything, it is that a handful of good men and women are all that is necessary for a dramatic transformation to take place.

A handful of good people with the power of the Holy Spirit and a good priest or two to hear confessions and say Mass, and they could be on their way to transforming the Church.

Just a few good priests — like the priest I met in Knock, Fr. Murray.

Let me tell you about this priest.

Our meeting didn’t begin with an overwhelming sense that I should go to confession — it was more like a mediocre conviction that going to confession at a place of pilgrimage was something I should do.

I wasn’t expecting much.

As I kneeled down, I saw the hands of a priest on the other side of the curtain, fidgeting with his reading glasses — hands aged over the years — possessing a soul that remained resolute and strong.

I only wish I was bold enough to have pulled out my iPhone and recorded the words he said to me in that confessional!

To be honest, sometimes I go into confession and feel like the priest is just phoning it in — and that’s okay, because the grace of the sacrament is still there and I sometimes I am just phoning life in myself.

So I get it.

But sometimes, I walk into a confessional — and literally, guys, I am encountering Christ!

I can only explain it by saying that some priests have given their lives over to Christ to such a degree that they it is hard to tell where they end and Christ begins.

That was the experience I had during my confession in Knock.

That Fr. Murray — if you’re ever in Knock, seek him out  — he was something special!

I’m going to share a few words that he shared with me, because I hope they will encourage you they way that they encouraged me.

The second I stepped out of that confessional, I sat in a pew and typed away in my notes everything I could remember from that confession.

So shout out, Fr. Murray!  You rock!

Thank you for saying yes to Christ, because I will not soon forget that confession any time soon.

Here is the paraphrased version of Fr. Murray’s words:

God made the stars and the galaxies and the Heavens and the Earth and you are so much more precious than all of that put together.  

He loves you so much.  He is madly in love with you and wants to be close to you.

Don’t forget that.

You are made in His Image and Likeness and He cares for you and made you far more wondrous than any of the galaxies.

Spend time with Him, because He desperately wants to spend time with you.

Maintain your peace — if something is taking away your peace, then leave it alone — peace is the passport to Heaven.

This life is a school of learning.  Learning to love, be patient and kind — and we need the grace of confession to pass these tests.

Ireland is a mess right now.  The devil has grown clever — he used to kill, draw and quarter those who attended Mass — and still the people went to Mass.  

They faced death, but they still went to Mass.

But now he uses liberalism to make people avoid Mass, and it has proved far more effective than the drawing and quartering.  

He has found his way into the hearts of some priests.  It is a mess.

(And here he paused for a minute as we took on the weight of those words… The beauty and splendor and nobility of a soul united to Christ — but also the horror of those other souls, especially priests, who had turned their backs on God and led so many astray.

Then he continued….)

It is a mess, but we must share the beauty of this faith and Mass and confession with others.  We cannot dwell on the darkness.

Don’t grow proud.  Be humble — pride is the worst sin.

Remember you are a princess of God you must learn to be a princess — to carry yourself as one, through love and kindness and forgiveness.

Life is a school and school has tests.  Be prepared for the tests.

You will pass all those tests with the grace of Mass and confession.

You are good.  

Don’t worry.  God loves you and He finds you precious and lovable. 

Give thanks to God for His goodness.  

Go in Peace.

And I did go in peace,  and as I write this I feel that peace again, and I just know that God will not let all the evil and ugliness in the Church have the final word.

I just know he just needs a few people, like you and me, to say “yes”.

The world is waiting for His Love and Mercy — and He needs you and me to be willing to carry that Love and Mercy to the world.

No more hesitation. No more cowardice.  No more excuses.

Let us say “yes”.