Obligatory Confession a Cruel Affliction of Conscience

I shall address each of these points briefly, but for now, let us set aside the discussion of the rights and insults they hurl upon the souls of the faithful, for that shall be examined in due course. As for their imposition of a law that necessitates the enumeration of all sins and their denial of forgiveness unless one possesses an unwavering intention to confess, while also proclaiming that the gates of paradise are shut tight against those who spurn the opportunity to confess—such notions are utterly intolerable. How do they expect one to compile a comprehensive list of sins? Even David, who undoubtedly pondered deeply upon the confession of his own transgressions, could not do more than exclaim, "Who can discern his errors? Declare me innocent from hidden faults!" (Psalm 19:12). In another place, he laments, "My iniquities have gone over my head; like a heavy burden, they are too heavy for me" (Psalm 38:4). Indeed, he understood the profound depths of our sins, the multitude of offenses dwelling within each person, the many heads of this monstrous entity called sin, and the lengthy tail it drags behind. David did not endeavor to provide a complete reckoning but, from the depths of his sinfulness, he cried out to God, saying, "I am submerged, buried, suffocated; the gates of hell have enclosed around me. Let your right hand rescue me from this pit of drowning, from this abyss of death into which I have fallen!" Who now, in light of David's struggle to fathom the number of his own sins, would dare to believe they can meticulously account for their own?

The torments inflicted upon the consciences of those who had a glimpse of God's presence resembled the fires of Gehenna. They embarked on an arduous task of accounting, meticulously dissecting sins into arms, branches, and leaves, following the classifications of these self-proclaimed experts of confession. They meticulously weighed the characteristics, quantities, and circumstances of each transgression. At the outset, they may have made some progress, but as they delved deeper, all they could see was an endless expanse of sky and sea, devoid of any safe harbor or resting place. The further they ventured, the more the numbers multiplied, rising before their eyes like towering mountains that obstructed their view, leaving no hope of ever escaping this labyrinthine maze. Thus, they remained trapped in this anguish, finding no resolution but sinking deeper into despair.

Then, like inhumane executioners, theologians presented a remedy for the wounds and sores they had inflicted upon these tortured souls. Their solution? Each individual should do what was within their power. Yet, new worries pierced them, and fresh torments flayed these hapless beings as thoughts haunted their minds: "I haven't devoted enough time to it. I haven't zealously pursued it as I should have. I've neglected certain aspects due to my own carelessness and inexcusable negligence." The theologians, in their attempt to soften these afflictions, added other prescriptions: "Do penance for your negligence! If it isn't too grave, you may find forgiveness."

But these measures fail to heal the wounds; they are more akin to poisons coated with honey, designed to mask their bitterness and deceive before their true nature is revealed. This dreadful voice incessantly echoes in their ears: "Confess all your sins." The horror it invokes cannot be pacified except by a certain and unwavering comfort. The fact that a significant portion of the world has fallen prey to such seductive notions, wherein a lethal poison is disguised as sweetness, does not stem from their belief that God is appeased or that they find contentment within themselves. Rather, it is akin to sailors dropping anchor in the middle of the sea, seeking respite from the toils of their voyage, or a weary pilgrim who, exhausted and stumbling, sits by the wayside to rest. They have sought this temporary reprieve, though it proves woefully insufficient for their true needs.

I will not labor extensively to prove what is evident to each individual's experience. However, let me succinctly describe the nature of this law. Firstly, it is utterly impossible, inevitably leading to ruin, damnation, confusion, and the utter destruction of those who adhere to it, plunging them into despair. Moreover, by diverting sinners from a genuine understanding of their transgressions, it transforms them into hypocrites who remain ignorant of both God and themselves. By obsessing over the enumeration of their sins, they conveniently forget the hidden abyss of vice residing deep within their hearts—their concealed iniquities and impurities. To truly apprehend such darkness, one must primarily contemplate their own wretchedness. In contrast, the proper manner of confession lies in acknowledging and confessing an abyss of evil within us, one that overwhelms our senses. We witness this form of confession in the words of the publican: "Lord, be merciful to me, a sinner," implying, "All that exists within me is but sin, so immense that neither my thoughts nor my tongue can fully grasp its magnitude. May the abyss of Your mercy swallow up the abyss of my sins!"

"But," someone might inquire, "is it not necessary to confess each sin? Does God not find satisfaction in confession unless it is expressed in these few words: 'I am a sinner'?" I respond that our utmost endeavor should be to lay bare our entire heart before God, as far as humanly possible. It is not merely a matter of confessing our status as sinners but genuinely embracing that identity, recognizing, with utmost contemplation, the vast extent and various forms of our sinful filth. We must acknowledge not only our impurity but also the specific nature of our impurity, contemplating its enormity and multiplicity. We must acknowledge not only our indebtedness but also the overwhelming burden of debts that weigh us down. We must acknowledge not only our wounds but the multitude, gravity, and mortal nature of these wounds. Nevertheless, even when a sinner has bared their soul before God with such awareness, they must sincerely believe that numerous other evils still reside within them, which they cannot fully comprehend. The depth of their wretchedness is such that minutely examining it or discovering its boundaries becomes an arduous task. Hence, let them cry out, echoing the words of David: "Who can discern their own errors? Cleanse me from hidden faults!" (Psalm 19:12).

Furthermore, these theologians have the audacity to claim that sins are not forgiven unless one possesses a specific intention to confess, and that the gates of paradise remain firmly shut to those who pass up the opportunity for confession. How absurd it is for us to concur with such notions! The forgiveness of sins has not changed; it remains consistent throughout history. We find no mention of those who obtained forgiveness of sins from Christ being required to whisper their confessions into the ear of a certain Mr. John. How could they confess when confessors did not yet exist, and the practice of confession itself was unknown for a considerable time? Yet, even during that period of ignorance, sins were forgiven without the conditions these theologians impose. Let us not dispute this matter as if it were a dubious proposition, for the eternal Word of God is unambiguous: "When the wicked person turns away from his wickedness, he shall save his life. He shall live" (Ezekiel 18:27). Those who dare to add conditions to this divine promise do not bind sins but rather restrict God's boundless mercy.