Dominican Father Patrick Hyde (Twitter: @frpatrickop) recently tweeted:
For those desiring the Sacrament of Confession: Perfect contrition, flowing from love of God, expressed by a sincere request for forgiveness (like praying the act of contrition) & with the intention to go to sacramental confession as soon as possible, obtains forgiveness of sins.
“Upon the Sacrament being made available to you again, you should get to Confession as soon as possible and confess these sins. But, in this time of crisis and chaos, God’s mercy remains readily available.
Father Hyde meant, and did, very well here. The drama of life, however, includes human anxiety, suspiciousness, implications and inferences everywhere.
Cue the genuine concern of, or on behalf of, the scrupulous person, who questions whether his or her contrition is ever perfect.
Scrupulosity is Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder directed toward moral matters. It is fueled by anxiety, which I term “the allergies of mental illness” (along the same lines that depression is its common cold).
It’s fair enough to say that there is a truth to be known and a goodness to be done. But with scrupulosity, the feverish drive for exactness is operative. ”Did I just sin here? Did I confess this sin properly? Did I perform my penance precisely as given?”
The fear of eternal damnation registers highly, as well as the oppressive sense of quotidian sinfulness that prior generations termed “Catholic guilt” and used sometimes as a red herring to justify their abandonment of the Catholic faith.
Detractors suggest that their teachers, especially women religious, were encouraging scrupulosity—not intentionally, I’d hope. I trust they wanted their charges to be faithful Catholics and no more/less; why wouldn’t they? But be an impressionable child, be a hormonally-laden teenager, and your impression might be otherwise.
(Be a wounded and sinful adult, and the impression you give might be corrupt. I’d be foolish to exclude that likelihood in many cases; hence our current scandals.)
Faithful Catholicism, faithful discipleship, includes detesting sin and seeking virtue. Lacking the tools and relationship to cultivate the latter in many cases, it becomes easier to foster the former and hope for the best.
Somewhere in my diagnostic history I was told I had a mild OCD along with a mild to moderate depression. I think that still is the case. I have an addictive personality, by which I mean not that people easily become addicted to me, but I to whatever item, practice or person interests me. Since those earlier assessments I think I’ve qualified for ADHD. I don’t want to levy these terms indiscriminately.
To return to the original Tweetroversy (it wasn’t really an argument, thank God, it was more of a dialogue, though the original poster—wisely?—added nothing further; maybe he muted the conversation):
When someone mentioned the scrupulous person’s doubts regarding “perfection” in contrition, I returned to Father Hyde’s tweet: the act of perfect contrition “flow[s] from love of God.” The traditional Act of Contrition speaks to God as “All-Good, and deserving of all my love.”
It does not, incidentally, affirm the praying person’s love for God, only God’s worthiness of it and my offense of God by sin. Love has its own “Act” prayer, worth investigating and offering.
After reading this conversation, I entered the Divine Conversation of the Liturgy, where I heard Jesus’ scathing rebuke of those Jews opposed to Him (typically referred to as “the Jews”). It included, “...I know that you do not have the love of God in you” (Jn 5:42). If that doesn’t turn one into a pillar of salt, what would?
Elsewhere Saint John declared, “Perfect love casts out all fear” (1 Jn 4:18). That takes us back to *perfect* contrition, and for that matter, the dominical command to be “perfect as your Heavenly Father is perfect” (Mt 5:48). Here perfect is not “flawless,” but rather “as intended, following form and intention” (Gk teleios).
The scrupulous person can affirm, even if shakingly and wobblily as human lovers do, that he or she loves God. “Well, I fear God more than I love Him,” one might retort.
Pare it down: Do you love Him at all? Do you want to be His friend and not His slave (cf. Jn 15:15)? Do you love Him more than “these,” as Jesus asks Peter, where “these” usually is thought of as the apostles gathered with them both, but we can extrapolate it into earthly relationships and attachments.
Do you love Me more than the thrill of alcohol, lust, drugs, gambling, acquiring and spending, oversatiety, trying to control others, you name it (and claim it!)
—The addict, deep down, especially the “recovering” one (the one wanting to change and grow), may say, “I love You, Lord; help me love You more than *these*!”
—The scrupulous, deep down, may say, “I love You, Lord; help me love You more than I fear the effects of turning away from You, or the uncertainties I have about my distance from You or Your love for me.”
If you can say you love God, that is, as one poster acknowledged, “a concrete first step.”
Maybe the first first step is as the addicts in recovery might frame it for the scrupulous: “I am powerless over my thoughts and feelings concerning sin and perfection; my life is unmanageable.” The second step: “I came to believe that a Power greater than myself could restore me to sanity.”
Then: I made a decision to turn my will and my life [thoughts and actions] over to the care of God as I understood Him.” Trust motivates that turning-over (surrender) of will and life. Trust is a ray from the sun of love.
Then: I made a decision to turn my will and my life [thoughts and actions] over to the care of God as I understood Him.” Trust motivates that turning-over (surrender) of will and life. Trust is a ray from the sun of love.
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Another tweeter returned the conversation in the direction intended by the OP (get it? Original Poster/Ordo Praedicatorum? I’ll show myself out, but not before finishing this thought):
Viz: The reaffirmation of the forgiveness God gives in response to the Act of Perfect Contrition (sorry because I love God, Whom my sins offend), coupled with the intention to confess appropriately at the first available opportunity.
These anxious times have everyone by the tissues, not just the diagnosed. Anxious because many parishes now offer Confession even less than they had before COVID-19. Anxious because here is a life-threat that discriminates not. Faithful and seasonal Catholics won’t likely participate in Easter Mass because this virus shows no signs of abatement, neither will the in-place restrictions (at least I hope not, @RealDonald...)
“I may not get to make my Easter Duty [Communion at least once from the start of Lent to Trinity Sunday, and Confession of serious sins before Easter if possible]!” If it doesn’t happen because of the in-place restrictions and the limits of local pastoral offering, it’s not your fault that you didn’t make it unless you never intended to. And even there, if God spares, there’s still a chance to go, and at least this priest happily would facilitate that.
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Obiter dictum: I am not a mental health practitioner or theoretician. I do not possess a degree in Moral Theology. I am a parish priest working with the best available knowledge that I have accessed. I dare not give specific advice online regarding “internal forum” (confessional-worthy or confessed) matters. Please refer to your regular/local for such.
For more information and support (again, not as a substitute for one’s Confessor and Spiritual Director, as it will insist): https://scrupulousanonymous.org/
* * *
Obiter dictum: I am not a mental health practitioner or theoretician. I do not possess a degree in Moral Theology. I am a parish priest working with the best available knowledge that I have accessed. I dare not give specific advice online regarding “internal forum” (confessional-worthy or confessed) matters. Please refer to your regular/local for such.
For more information and support (again, not as a substitute for one’s Confessor and Spiritual Director, as it will insist): https://scrupulousanonymous.org/
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