The Priest, The Woman And The Confessional
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Father Chiniquy >> The Priest, The Woman And The Confessional
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The deacon Pontius wrote also the life St. Cyprien, who lived in the third
century; but he does not say a word of his ever having gone to confession,
or having heard the confession of any one. More than that, we learn from
this reliable historian that Cyprien was excommunicated by the Pope of
Rome, called Stephen, and that he died without having ever asked from any
one absolution from that excommunication; a thing which has not seemingly
prevented him from going to Heaven, since the infallible Popes of Rome, who
succeeded Stephen, have assured us that he is a saint.
Gregory of Nyssa has given us the life of St. Gregory of Neo-Caesarea, of
the 3rd century, and of St. Basil, of the 4th century. But neither speak of
their having gone to confess, or having heard the confession of any one. It
is thus evident that those two great and good men, with all the Christians
of their times, lived and died without ever knowing any thing about the
dogma of auricular confession.
We have the interesting life of St Ambrose, of the 4th century, by
Paulinus; and from that book it is as evident as two and two make four,
that St. Ambrose never went to confess.
The history of St Martin of Tours, of the 4th century by Severus Sulpicius
of the 5th century, is another monument left by antiquity to prove that
there was no dogma of auricular confession in those days; for St. Martin
has evidently lived and died without ever going to confess.
Pallas and Theodoret have left us the history of the life, sufferings and
death of St. Chrysostom, bishop of Constantinople, who died at the
beginning of the 5th century, and both are absolutely mute about that
dogma. No fact is more evident, by what they say, than that holy and
eloquent bishop lived and died also without ever thinking of going to
confess.
No man has ever more perfectly entered into the details of a Christian
life, when writing on that subject, than the learned and eloquent St
Jerome, of the 5th century. A great number of his admirable letters are
written to the priests of his day, or to some Christian ladies and virgins,
who had requested him to give them some good advices about the best way to
lead a Christian life. His letters, which form five volumes, are most
interesting monuments of the manners, habits, views, morality, practical
and dogmatical faith of the first centuries of the church; and they are a
most unanswerable evidence that auricular confession, as a dogma, had then
no existence, and is quite a modern invention. Would it be possible that
Jerome could have forgotten to give some advices or rules about auricular
confession, to the priests of his time who asked his counsel about the best
way to fulfil their ministerial duties, if it had been one of their duties
to hear the confessions of the people? But we challenge the most devoted
modern priest of Rome to find a single line in all the letters of St Jerome
in favour of auricular confession. In his admirable letter to the priest
Nepotianus, on the life of priests, vol. II, p. 203, when speaking of the
relations of priests with women, he says: "Solus cum sola, secreto et
absque arbitrio vel teste, non sedeas. Si familiarus est aliquid loquendum,
habet nutricem majorem domus, virginem, viduam, vel maritatam; non est tam
inhumana ut nullum praeter te habeat cui se audeat credere."
"Never sit in secret, alone, in a retired place, with a female who is alone
with you. If she has any particular thing to tell you, let her take the
female attendant of the house, a young girl, a widow, or a married woman.
She can not be so ignorant of the rules of human life as to expect to have
you as the only one to whom she can trust those things."
It would be easy to cite a great number of other remarkable passages where
Jerome shows himself the most determined and implacable opponent of those
secret "tete-a-tete" between a priest and a female, which, under the
plausible pretext of mutual advice and spiritual consolation, are generally
nothing but bottomless pits of infamy and perdition for both. But this is
enough.
We have also the admirable life of St. Paulina, written by St. Jerome. And
though in it he gives us every imaginable detail of her life when young,
married and widow, though he tells us even how her bed was composed of the
simplest and rudest materials, he has not a word about her ever having gone
to confess. Jerome speaks of the acquaintances of St. Paulina and gives
their names; he enters into the minutest details of her long voyages, her
charities, her foundations of monasteries for men and women, her
temptations, human frailties, heroic virtues, her macerations and her holy
death: but he has not a word to say about the frequent or rare auricular
confessions of St. Paulina; not a word about her wisdom in the choice of a
prudent and holy (?) confessor.
He tells us that after her death, her body was carried to her grave on the
shoulders of bishops and priests, as a token of their profound respect for
the saint. But he never says that any of those priests sat there in a dark
corner with her, and forced her to reveal to their ears the secret history
of all the thoughts, desires, and human frailties of her long and eventful
life. Jerome is an unimpeachable witness that his saintly and noble friend
St. Paulina lived and died without having ever thought of going to confess.
Possidius has left us the interesting life of St. Augustine, of the fifth
century; and again it is in vain that we look for the place or the time
when that celebrated bishop of Hippo went to confess, or heard the secret
confessions of his people.
More than that, St. Augustine has written a most admirable book, called:
"Confessions," in which he gives us the history of his life. With that
marvellous book in hand, we follow him, step by step, wherever he goes; we
are the witnesses of what he does and thinks; we attend with him those
celebrated schools, where his faith and morality were so sadly wrecked; he
takes us with him into the garden where, wavering between heaven and hell,
bathed in tears, he goes under the fig-tree and cries, "Oh Lord! how long
will I remain in my iniquities!" Our soul thrills with emotions, with his
soul, when we hear, with him, the sweet and mysterious voice: "Tolle!
lege!" take and read. We run with him to the places where he had left his
gospel book; with a trembling hand, we open it, and we read: "Let us walk
honestly as in the day ... put ye on the Lord Jesus Christ..." (Rom. xiii,
13, 14.)
That incomparable book of Augustine makes us weep and shout with joy with
him; it initiates us into all, his most secret actions, to all his sorrows,
anxieties and joys, it reveals and unvails his whole life. It tells us
where he goes, with whom he sins, and with whom he praises God; it makes us
pray, sing and bless the Lord with him. Is it possible that Augustine could
have been to confess without telling us when, where and to whom he made
confession? Could he have received the absolution and pardon of his sins
from his confessor, without making us partakers of his joys, and requesting
us to bless that confessor with him.
But, it is in vain that you look in that book for a single word about
auricular confession. That book is an unimpeachable witness that neither
Augustine nor his saintly mother Monica, whom it mentions so often, lived
and died without ever having been to confess. That book may be called the
most crushing evidence to prove that, "the dogma of auricular confession"
is a modern imposture.
From the beginning to the end of that book, we see that Augustine believed
and said that God alone could forgive the sins of men, and that it was to
Him alone that men had to confess in order to be pardoned. If he writes his
confession, it is only that the world might know how God had been merciful
to him, and that they might help him to praise and bless the merciful
Heavenly Father. In the tenth book of his Confessions, chapter III,
Augustine protests against the idea that men could do anything to cure the
spiritual leper, or forgive the sins of their fellow-men; here is his
eloquent protest: "Quid mihi ergo est cum hominibus ut audiant confessiones
meas, quasi ipsi sanaturi sint languores meas? Curiosum genus ad
cognoscendam vitam alienam; desidiosum ad corrigendam."
"What have I to do with men that I might be obliged to confess my sins to
them, as if they were able to heal my infirmities? Oh Lord! that human race
is very fond of knowing the sins of their neighbors; but they are very
neglectful in correcting their own lies."
Before Augustine had built up that sublime and imperishable monument
against auricular confession, St. John Chrysostom had raised his eloquent
voice against it, in his homily on the 50th Psalm, where, speaking in the
name of the Church, he said: "We do not request you to go to confess your
sins to any of your fellow-men, but only to God!"
Nestorius, of the 4th century, the predecessor of John Chrysostom, had, by
a public defense, which the best Roman Catholic historians have had to
acknowledge, solemnly forbidden the practice of auricular confession. For,
just as there has always been thieves, drunkards and malefactors in the
world, so there has always been men and women who, under the pretext of
opening their minds to each other for mutual comfort and edification, were
giving themselves to every kind of iniquity and lust. The celebrated
Chrysostom was only giving the sanction of his authority to what his
predecessor had done when, thundering against the newly born monster, he
said to the Christians of his time, "We do not ask you to go and confess
your iniquities to a sinful man for pardon--but only to God." (Homily on
50th Psalm.)
Auricular confession originated with the early heretics, especially with
Marcion. Bellarmin speaks of it as something to be practiced. But let us
hear what the contemporary writers have to say on the question:
"Certain women were in the habit of going to the heretic Marcion to confess
their sins to him. But, as he was smitten with their beauty, and they loved
him also, they abandoned themselves to sin with him."
Listen now to what St. Basil, in his commentary on Ps. xxxvii, says of
confession:
"I have not to come before the world to make a confession with my lips. But
I close my eyes, and confess my sins in the secret of my heart. Before
thee, O God, I pour out my sighs, and thou alone art the witness. My groans
are within my soul. There is no need of many words to confess: sorrow and
regret are the best confession. Yes, the lamentations of the soul, which
thou art pleased to hear, are the best confession."
Chrysostom, in his homily: De paenitentia, vol. IV., col. 901, has the
following: "You need no witnesses of your confession. Secretly acknowledge
your sins, and let God alone hear you."
In his homily V., De incomprehensibili Dei natura, vol. I, he says:
"Therefore, I beseech you, always confess your sins to God! I in no way ask
you to confess them to me. To God alone should you expose the wounds of
your souls, and from him alone expect the cure. Go to him, then; and you
shall not be cast off, but healed. For, before you utter a single word, God
knows your prayer."
In his commentary on Heb. xii., hom. xxxi., vol. xii., p. 289, he further
says: "Let us not be content with calling ourselves sinners. But let us
examine and number our sins. And then, I do not tell you to go and confess
them, according to the caprice of some; but I will say to you, with the
prophet: "Confess your sins before God, acknowledge your iniquities at the
feet of your Judge; pray in your heart and your mind, if not with your
tongue, and you shall be pardoned."
In his homily on Ps. I., vol. V., p. 589, the same Chrysostom says:
"Confess you sins every day in prayer. Why should you hesitate to do so? I
do not tell you to go and confess to a man, sinner as you are, and who
might despise you if he knew your faults. But confess them to God, who can
forgive them to you."
In his admirable homily IV., De Lazaro, vol. I., p. 757, he explains: "Why,
tell me, should you be ashamed to confess your sins? Do we compel you to
reveal them to a man, who might, one day, throw them into your face? Are
you commanded to confess them to one of your equals, who could publish them
and ruin you? What we ask of you, is simply to show the sores of your soul
to your Lord and Master, who is also your friend, your guardian and
physician."
In a small work of Chrysostom's, intitled: "Catechesis ad illuminandos,"
vol. II., p. 210, we read these remarkable words: "What we should most
admire, is not that God forgives our sins, but that he does not disclose
them to any one, nor wishes us to do so. What he demands of us, is to
confess our transgressions to him alone to obtain pardon."
St. Augustine, in his beautiful homily on the 31st Ps., says: "I shall
confess my sins to God, and he will pardon all my iniquities. And such
confession is made not with the lips, but with the heart only. I had hardly
opened my mouth to confess my sins, when they were pardoned; for God had
already heard the voice of my heart."
In the edition of the Fathers by Migne, vol. 67, p. 614, 615, we read:
"About the year 390, the office of penitentiary was abolished in the
church, in consequence of a great scandal given by a woman who publicly
accused herself of having committed a crime against chastity with a
deacon."
The office of penitentiary was this: in every large city, a priest or
minister was specially appointed to preside over the church meetings where
the members who had committed public sins were obliged to confess them
publicly before the assembly, in order to be reinstated in the privileges
of their membership; and that minister had the charge of reading or
pronouncing the sentence of pardon granted by the church to the guilty
ones, before they could be admitted again to communion. This was perfectly
in accordance with what St. Paul had done with regard to the incestuous one
of Corinth, that scandalous sinner, who had cast obloquy on the Christian
name; but who, after confessing and weeping over his sins, before the
church, obtained his pardon--not from a priest in whose ears he had
whispered all the shocking details of his incestuous intercourse, but from
the whole church assembled. St. Paul gladly approves the Church of Corinth
in thus receiving again in their midst a wandering but repenting brother.
There is as much difference between such public confessions and auricular
confessions, as there is between heaven and hell, between God and his great
enemy, Satan.
Public confession, then, dates from the time of the apostles, and is still
practised in protestant churches of our day. But auricular confession was
unknown by the disciples of Christ; as it is rejected, to-day, with horror
by all the true followers of the Son of God.
Erasmus, one of the most learned Roman Catholics which opposed the
Reformation in the 16th century, so admirably begun by Luther and Calvin,
fearlessly and honestly makes the following declaration in his treaty: De
Paenitantia, Dis 5. "This institution of penance began rather of some
tradition of the Old or New Testament. But our divines, not advisedly
considering what the old doctors do say, are deceived: that which they say
of general and open confession, they wrest by and by to this secret and
privy kind of confession.
It is a public fact, which no learned Roman Catholic has ever denied, that
auricular confession became a dogma and obligatory practice of the church
only at the council of Lateran in the year 1215, under the Pope Innocent
III. Not a single trace of auricular confession, as a dogma, can be found
before that year.
Thus, it has taken more than twelve hundred years of efforts for Satan to
bring out that master-piece of his inventions to conquer the world and
destroy the souls of men.
Little by little, that imposture had crept into the world, just as the
shadows of a stormy night creep without any one being able to note the
moment when the first rays of light give way before the dark clouds. We
know very well when the sun was shining, we know when it was very dark all
over the world, but no one can tell positively when the first ray of light
faded away. So saith the Lord:
"The Kingdom of heaven is likened unto a man which sowed good seed in his
field.
"But while men slept, his enemy came and sowed tares among the wheat and
went his way.
"But when the blade was sprung up, and brought forth fruit, there appeared
the tares also.
"So the servants of the house-holder came and said unto him: Sir, dist not
thou sow good seed in the field? From whence then hath it tares?
"He said unto them: The enemy hath done this." (Mat. xiii, 24-28.)
Yes, the Good Master tells us that the enemy sowed those tares in his field
during the night--when men were sleeping.
But he does not tell us precisely the hour of the night when the enemy cast
the tares among the wheat.
If any one likes to know how fearfully dark was the night which covered the
"Kingdom," and how cruel, implacable and savage was the enemy who sowed the
tares, let him read the testimony of the most devoted and learned cardinal
whom Rome has ever had, Baronius, Annals, Anno 900:
"It is evident that one can scarcely believe what unworthy, base, execrable
and abominable things the holy Apostolical See, which is the pivot upon
which the whole Catholic Church revolves, was forced to endure, when
princes of the age, though Christians, arrogated to themselves the election
of the Roman Pontiffs. Alas, the shame! alas, the grief! What monsters,
horrible to behold, were then intruded on the Holy See! What evils ensued!
What tragedies they perpatrated! With what pollutions was this See, though
itself without spot, then stained! With what corruptions infected! _With
what filthiness defiled! And by these things blackened with perpetual
infamy!_ (Baronius, Annals, Anno 900.)
"Est plane, ut vix aliquis credat, immo, nec vix quidem sit crediturus,
nisi suis inspiciat ipse oculis, manibusque contractat, quam indigna,
quamque turpia, atque deformia, execranda, insuper et abominanda sit coacta
pati sacrosancta apostolica sedes, in cujus cardine universa Ecclesia
catholica vertitur, cum principes saeculi hujus, quantumlibet christiani,
hac tamen ex parte dicendi tyranni saevissimi, arrogaverunt sibi tirannice
electionem Romanorum pontificum. Quot tunc ab eis, proh pudor! proh dolor!
in eandem sedem, angelis reverandam, visu horrenda intrusa sunt monstra!
Quot ex eis oborta sunt mala, consummatae tragediae! Quibus tunc ipsam sine
macula et sine ruga contigit aspergi sordibus, putoribus infici, quinati
spurcitiis, ex hisque perpetua infamia denigrari!"
* * * * *
CHAPTER X.
GOD COMPELS THE CHURCH OF ROME TO CONFESS THE ABOMINATIONS OF AURICULAR
CONFESSION.
* * * * *
Romish priests will resort to various means in order to deceive the people
on the immorality resulting from auricular confession. One of their
favorite stratagems is to quote some disconnected passages from
theologians, recommending caution on the part of the priest in questioning
his penitents on delicate subjects, should he see or apprehend any danger
for the latter of being shocked by his questions. True, there are such
prudent theologians, who seem to realize more than others the real danger
for the priest in confession. But those wise counsellors resemble very much
a father who would allow his child to put his fingers in the fire while
advising him to be cautious lest he should burn his fingers. There is just
as much wisdom in the one case as there would be in the other. Or what
would you say of a brutal parent casting a young, weak, and inexperienced
boy among wild beasts, with the foolish and cruel expectation that his
prudence might save him from all injury?
Such theologians may be perfectly honest in giving such advice, although it
is anything but wise or reasonable. But those are far from being honest or
true who contend that the Church of Rome, in commanding every one to
confess all his sins to the priests, has made an exception in favor of sins
against chastity. This is only so much dust thrown in the eyes of ignorant
people to prevent them from seeing through the frightful mysteries of
confession.
When the council of Latran decided that every adult, of either sex, should
confess all their sins to a priest, at least once a year, there was no
provision made for any special class of sins, not even for those committed
against modesty or purity. And the council of Trent, when ratifying or
renewing the previous decision, no exception was made, either, of the sins
in question. They were expected and had to be confessed, as all other sins.
The law of both councils is still unrepealed and binding for all sins,
without any exception. It is imperative, absolute; and every good Catholic,
man or woman, must submit to it by confessing _all_ his or her sins at
least once a year.
I have in my hand Butler's Catechism, approved by several bishops of
Quebec. On page 61, it reads that all penitents should examine themselves
on the capital sins, and confess them "all, without exception, under
penalty of eternal damnation."
Therefore, the young and timid girl, the chaste and modest woman must think
of shameful deeds and fill their minds with impure ideas, in order to
confess to an unmarried man whatever they may be guilty of, however
repugnant may be to them such confession, or dangerous for the priest who
is bound to hear, and even demand it. No one is exempt from the loathsome
and often polluting task. Both priest and penitent are required and
compelled to go through the fiery ordeal of contamination and shame. They
are bound, on every particular, the one to ask, and the other to answer,
under penalty of eternal damnation.
Such is the rigorous, inflexible law of the Church of Rome with regard to
confession. It is taught not only in works on theology or from the pulpit,
but in prayer-books and various other religious publications. It is so
deeply impressed in the minds of Romanists as to have become a part of
their religion. Such is the law which the priest himself has to obey, and
which puts his penitents at his own discretion.
But there are husbands with a jealous disposition, who would little fancy
the idea of bachelors confessing their wives, if they knew exactly what
questions they have to answer in confession. There are fathers and mothers
who don't like much to see their daughters alone with a man, behind a
curtain, and who would certainly tremble for their honor and virtue if they
knew all the abominable mysteries of confession. It is necessary,
therefore, to keep the people, as much as possible, in ignorance, and
prevent light from reaching that empire of darkness, the confessional. In
that view, confessors are advised to be cautious "on those matters;" to
"broach these questions in a sort of covert way, and with the greatest
reserve." For it is very desirable "not to shock modesty, neither frighten
the penitent nor grieve her." "Sins, however, _must_ be confessed."
Such is the prudent advice given to the confessor on certain occasions. In
the hands or under the command of Liguori, Father Gury, Scavani, or other
casuists, the priest is a sort of general, sent, with his army, during the
night, to storm a citadel or a strong position, having for order to operate
cautiously and before daylight. His mission is one of darkness and cunning,
violence and cruelty; for when the pope commands, the priest, as his loyal
soldier, must be ready to obey. But many a time, after the place has been
captured by dint of strategy and secrecy, the poor soldier is left, badly
wounded and completely disabled, on the battle-field. He has paid dearly
for his victory; and the conquered citadel has received an injury from
which it may never recover. But the crafty priest has gained his point: he
has succeeded in persuading his lady penitent that there was no
impropriety, that it was even necessary for them to have a parley on things
that made her blush a few moments before. She is so well convinced that she
would swear that there is nothing wrong in confession. Truly this is a
fulfilment of the words:
"Abyssus abyssum invocat."
Have the Romish theologians Gury, Scavani, Liguori, etc., ever been honest
enough, in their works on confession, to say that the Most Holy God could
never command or require woman to degrade and pollute herself and the
priest in pouring in the ear of a frail and sinful mortal, words unfit even
for an angel? No; they were very careful not to say so; for from that very
moment, their shameless lies would have been exposed; the stupendous but
weak structure of auricular confession would fall to the ground with sad
havoc and ruin to its upholders. Men and women would open their eyes, and
see its weakness and fallacy. "If God," they might say, "can forgive our
most grievous sins, against modesty, he can and will certainly do the same
with those of less gravity; therefore there is no necessity or occasion for
us to confess to a priest."
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