Shrive Oneself

The priest at noon Mass reminded us to shrive ourselves.

The word comes from Old English, to do penance. It comes from the word meaning to write. To be shriven means to present oneself to a priest to confess, be given a penance and to be absolved of the sin confessed.

Lent is a time to consider shriving. One ought to come clean, as it were.

The aspect of the word that connects it to "write" is fascinating. There is something about writing that does expose oneself. Black ink on white paper: it is in the open, set in black on white, saying what it says. Later it can be changed with further writing, but what is set down remains.

That is humbling. What the nothing has written in the past, while in process even of discerning the format of hermit life, was set down. Now that has changed; the thoughts have benefitted from more prayer, reading, input from others, general experience in looking about and pondering realities. So the nothing shrives itself in setting down in writing what is determined in the present moment.

St. Francis de Sales wrote out what he planned for his retirement. He was shriven. His penance was what he "deserved": he served well and zealously. He later wrote more about what one does regarding plans, and that plans get changed by needs and the will of God. Well, St. Francis de Sales is living in heaven, and that must be a gloriously, eternally, shriven retirement!

A letter came in the mail. The person teased about a recreation enjoyed--perhaps too often enjoyed and thought of. Then asked, "Do you suppose this will hinder my salvation?"

Well, I don't know. I have wondered about my own salvation and whether or not the clothing (clearance, at that) and the time spent gathering a wardrobe which allows me to be a lamp with a shade that blends with most other shades (rather than to be a lamp with a bulb exposed for what it is)--has been a hindrance to my salvation. I wonder if I have wasted time. Time wasted in the gathering, money wasted in the purchasing--and this not just recently, but in the older life, of the money spent for good reasons at the time, for purposes with good intent, but not necessary.

So I shrive myself. I plan to do this formally on Friday morning when the regular confessor is scheduled. Part of me wanted to go to bed, to rest, for the virus lingers longer than expected. But it seemed best to write some, to consider the question of what might hinder our salvation.

Time and money wasted on items not needed might, indeed. Knowing that we should live every moment for God, and not doing so--what does this say for us? We can read the lives of souls who lived successfully for God, in God, and received joy in that living, even while on earth, even amidst the shriving of self. And then we see that much of what we do, what we think, how we spend our money and time and thoughts--are not going to bring us holiness.

The aspects of deception and wastefulness are easier to see in others than in ourselves. We have many excuses. In fact, the other day someone tried an excuse: "Well, there has to be SOME fun, SOME joy, doesn't there? We should be able to laugh!" Well, yes, but does this mean the laugh must come from a TV show or a movie? Or the fun from hours in a passtime. We can begin to enjoy all matters of God as we come clean from the matters of the world.

Is there a time and place in which penance becomes rather enjoyable--if not for the fact that it bespeaks of our repentance and coming clean, for the fact that in so doing we have drawn all that closer to God? Is God Himself not enjoyable? So, can't we have SOME fun in that closeness with the Beloved?

Is it possible to be as excited over a biography of a saint as it is to watch men (through a screen in a box) running up and down a field carrying a ball, but mostly dropping it after being pummeled to the ground, and then stand around waiting until they pick it up again and run?