Confession and Catholic Children

I’m beginning to believe that raising Catholic children, including teaching them and assisting them in participation in all the sacraments, is a very underappreciated part of parenthood. My husband and I have taken teaching the Catholic faith to our five children very seriously. We have overseen our five children being baptized, receiving the Sacraments of Reconciliation and Eucharist. Each has been confirmed and all five have had Catholic weddings. Even with all our efforts, sometimes things are still out of our control. This became obvious to me one evening at a parish communal penance service (with individual Sacrament of Reconciliation) when our three youngest children were still young enough to need our guidance. 

Before the service, we discussed whether each person wanted to go "face-to-face" or "anonymously". My husband chose the former, the rest of the family took the latter. As we got in long lines, my husband went to another part of the church. I whispered to each of the children to make sure they were familiar with “the little box” since most of their experiences had been face-to-face confession with a priest. As each took their turn, I noticed my daughter came out all too soon. The person on the other side should have exited first, and she hadn’t come out yet. After inquiry, I discovered that my daughter had thought she had been forgotten and gave up and came out when she talked and no one answered.

Eventually, with the three children finished with their confessions and kneeling in a pew, it was my turn in the confessional. While kneeling in the dark, I suddenly heard a ruckus in the pew right outside my door. I knew that was exactly the pew where my children were. As the noise got louder and louder, and I was still waiting, I wondered if I should open the door and shake my finger at the children and tell them to settle down and be quiet. Before I could go into action, the sliding door in the confessional opened and it was my turn to confess my sins. After absolution, as I went out the door I noticed that at least my children had enough sense to remove themselves from Church for whatever the reason of the noise. I set out to find them. They hadn’t gone far as they were each anxious to tell me their story. The oldest of the three, Andrew, then fifteen, had started the problem when he asked little eight-year-old brother, Matthew, if he had gotten his candy from the priest in the confessional. Andrew explained that there was a little hole that Father pushes candy through. Of course, Matthew, didn’t get his candy and had no idea that he was just being teased.

Their sister, Mary, then twelve, agreed with the tall tale. Andrew and Mary even told Matthew what kind of candy they got from Father. I now understood the ruckus was from Mathew's tears and frustration. Knowing him he was also attempting to grab the phantom candy from his sibling's hands and pockets. Now as a mother, I had to suppress a grin at the ingenuity and creative story that had been spun, but my biggest concern was whether I should I send all three back through the confession line for their behavior. After all, we weren‘t even out of Church yet. It took some talking to convince Matthew that his older siblings were just teasing and that no one received any candy in the confessional. I came home that night frustrated and maybe a lttle embarrassed knowing they provided plenty of entertainment for the people waiting in line. I wondered what’s a parent to do? Finally I decided to send an email to a priest friend. I explained to him that I thought as a priest he should know what Catholic parents go through in trying to raise a child Catholic. He wrote back in capital letters that my efforts have been duly noted in heaven’s book. What a relief to know my efforts as a Catholic parent do count. I got credit for trying.